These continued to be the rules for the prisons of the femmes publiques; their spirit is modern, but we shall see later on to what extent they were enforced.

In no long time, indeed, after the decrees of 1684, the conditions of life in the Salpêtrière seem to have been little if at all better than those in Saint-Martin. Six women shared a cell by night; the one bed which was supposed to hold them all accommodated four; two of whom slept at the head and two at the foot, while the two latest comers made shift on the bare floor. When one of the bed-fellows got her discharge, or went sick to Bicêtre, the elder of the floor-companions took the vacant place in the bed, resigning her share of the boards to a new fille d'amour. Complaints evoked the cut-and-dried response that the bed was intended to hold six. The cells were always damp, and "il y régnait absolument, et surtout le matin, une odeur infecte, capable de faire reculer." Despite the lack of sanitation, and the fact that the food was always of an inferior quality, the death-rate was not abnormal in the Salpêtrière.

Such was the first regular prison of the femmes publiques, and its régime. The sensible intentions of Louis XIV. were never realised, nor does the character of the monarch himself permit it to be inferred that he was very seriously concerned on the subject. The Salpêtrière continued to receive, if not to chasten, the "daughters of joy" until two days before the September massacres, when, as the beds for six were wanted for political prisoners, they were restored to liberty.

The year '91 saw the overthrow of everything, and the women of pleasure, so-called, entered upon halcyon days. Aspasia, left to her own devices, was "regarded as exercising an ordinary trade." Scandals and disorders followed, and when the public health was again in danger, there being neither control nor supervision of this traffic, a new census of the women was ordered. This was in 1796, but the work was so badly done that the opening days of the Directory found the situation more deplorable, if possible, than ever. Strange to say, the dissolute Directory (which admitted to its salons "gallant dames" who lacked nothing of the status of filles d'amour save inscription on the police registers) turned a severe eye upon the morals of the public. The police were bidden to be active in the haunts of Aspasia, but Aspasia had not forgotten the Republican doctrine of liberty, and when haled before the bench she gathered her lovers and friends about her in such numbers, that the cloud of witnesses in her favour quite overawed the magistrates, who were fain to let her go free.

The Consulate renewed the attack. It was at this era that the Central Bureau, which displaced the old office of Lieutenant of Police, was created, with a special sub-department called the Bureau des Mœurs. This department gave its attention principally to the sanitary aspects of the matter. Then was established the Préfecture de Police; and the new prefect, M. Dubois, ordered a fresh numbering of the women, which was made in 1801. The police, however, continued to ask for larger powers, which, to be brief, were conferred on them by article 484 of the Code Pénal. There were here revived at a stroke the ordonnances of 1713, 1778, and 1780, which gave to the heads of police, "une autorité absolue sur les femmes publiques."

During the period which has been thus hastily reviewed and which commenced soon after the close of the Reign of Terror, three prisons in succession served for the women of the town: La Force, Les Madelonnettes, and Saint-Lazare.

For many years—indeed, until the year after the battle of Waterloo—they were taken to prison in the keeping of soldiers, who led them through the streets in broad day; a crowd following, the women in tears or swearing, the crowd jeering or applauding. If a woman were well known in the town, there was an attempt to rescue her, and she was often snatched from the soldiers before the prison was reached. This public scandal, and bitter humiliation to all women above the most degraded class, was allowed until the year 1816, when the femmes publiques were conveyed to prison in a closed car.

They went to the Force, which has not left a kinder memory than the Salpêtrière. Prison rule was, an art as yet in its infancy, and there was scarcely an idea of cleanliness, moral control, or discipline. The Force, it is said, was "as inconvenient a place as could be found for its purpose." The infirmary, always an important department of prisons of this class, was "unwholesome and wretchedly ventilated." The women were altogether undisciplined, and as workrooms had not been opened they passed their days in idleness and gaming. In the summer months they swarmed in the yard; in winter, they slept, played cards, quarrelled, and fought in dusky and ill-smelling common-rooms. They had no keepers but men, before whom they displayed the most cynical effrontery. It is asserted that, on the days on which clean linen was distributed, the women were accustomed to present themselves before the warders in the precise state in which Phryne astonished her judges.[[25]] These things were noised, and the prefect of police had to devise afresh. In 1828, the filles d'amour were transferred from the Force to the Madelonnettes. The record of the Madelonnettes in this connection is not important, except that here it was attempted to employ the women at some strictly penal tasks. This project was more fully developed at Saint-Lazare, to which prison all classes of women of the town were relegated in 1831. At this date, the number of registered public women in Paris was 3517.

[25]. Un ancien gardien de la Force nous a dit que le samedi, jour où on leur donnait des chemises, pendant l'été, elles se mettaient entirement nues dans le préau pour les recevoir des mains des gardiens.—Les Prisons de l'Europe.

Before penetrating within the prison of Saint-Lazare, the reader will be curious to know by what means a woman desirous of doing so enrolled herself in this singular militia. She must seek the countenance and aid of a magistrate of Paris, whose task was in equal measure a delicate and a painful one. Without doubt, it was a strange spectacle; a woman presents herself before a magistrate and says that, renouncing her woman's modesty, her hope or desire of an honourable future, she wishes to be cut off from the world, that she may cast herself dans la prostitution publique. At first sight, she seems to make the magistrate her accomplice, but that this was not the case the sequel will shew.