Julian Swann - Provincial Power and Absolute Monarchy - The Estates General of Burgundy, 1661-1790 HGHGHGH

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P ROV I N C I A L P OW E R A N D
A B S O L U T E M O N A RC H Y
The Estates General of Burgundy, 1661–1790
This is the first book in English to study the history of the Estates
General of Burgundy during the classic period of absolute monarchy.
Although not a representative institution in any modern sense, the
Estates were constantly engaged in a process of bargaining with
the French crown, and this book examines that relationship under the
ancien régime. Julian Swann analyses the organisation, membership
and powers of the Estates and explores their administration, their
struggles for power with rival institutions and their relationship with
the crown and with the Burgundian people. The Estates proved
remarkably resilient when confronted by the challenges posed by the
Bourbon monarchy, and by the reign of Louis XVI they were seem-
ingly more powerful than ever. However, the desire to protect their
privileges and to extend their authority had not been accompanied by
an attempt to forge a meaningful relationship with the people they
claimed to serve.
j ul i a n s wa n n is Lecturer in Early Modern European History at

Birkbeck College, University of London. He is the author of Politics
and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754–1774 (1995).
new studies in europe an histo ry
Edited by
pe t er ba ldwin , University of California, Los Angeles
ch ri s toph er cl a rk , University of Cambridge
ja m es b. collin s , Georgetown University
m i a rod rı́ g u e z - s a lg a d o , London School of Economics and Political
Science
ly n da l roper , Royal Holloway, University of London
This is a new series in early modern and modern European history. Its aim is to
publish outstanding works of research, addressed to important themes across a wide
geographical range, from southern and central Europe, to Scandinavia and Russia,
and from the time of the Renaissance to the Second World War. As it develops
the series will comprise focused works of wide contextual range and intellectual
ambition.
Books in the series
Royalty and Diplomacy in Europe, 1890–1914

roderick r. m clea n
Catholic Revival in the Age of the Baroque
Religious Identity in Southwest Germany, 1550–1750
m a rc r. fors ter
Helmuth von Moltke and the Origins of the First World War
a n n ika m om bau er
Peter the Great
The Struggle for Power, 1671–1725
pau l bu s h kovitch
Fatherlands
State Building and Nationhood in Nineteenth-Century Germany
a biga il green
The French Second Empire
An Anatomy of Political Power
roger price
Origins of the French Welfare State
The Struggle for Social Reform in France, 1914–1947
paul v. du t ton
Ordinary Prussians
Brandenburg Junkers and Villagers, 1500–1840
willia m w. h age n
Liberty and Locality in Revolutionary France
Six Villages Compared, 1760–1820
peter jon es
P ROV I NCIAL POW ER AND
AB S OLUT E MO NARCHY
The Estates General of Burgundy, 1661–1790
JU L I A N S W A N N
Birkbeck College, University of London
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Cambridge University Press

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Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York
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© Julian Swann 2003
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without the written permission of Cambridge University Press.
First published in print format 2003
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À Manon et Margot
Contents
List of illustrations page ix

List of figures x
List of appendices xi
List of map xii
Preface xiii
List of abbreviations xv
Map: The duchy of Burgundy in the eighteenth century xvi
1 Historians, absolute monarchy and the provincial estates 1

2 Ancien régime Burgundy 26
3 The Estates General of Burgundy 41
4 Nosseigneurs les élus and the officers of the Estates 91
5 The provincial administration: authority and enforcement 126
6 ‘It’s raining taxes’. Paying for the Sun King, 1661–1715 154
7 Provincial administration in an age of iron, 1661–1715 194
8 The limits of absolutism: crown, governor and the Estates
in the eighteenth century 230
9 Provincial rivalries: the Estates and the Parlement of Dijon
in the eighteenth century 262
10 Tax, borrow and lend: crown, Estates and finance,
1715–1789 295
11 An enlightened administration? 330
vii
viii Contents
12 The coming of the French revolution in Burgundy,
1787–1789 365
Conclusion 400
Appendices 413
Bibliography 430
Index 447
Illustrations
1 The grande salle of the Estates of Burgundy (Source: Musée

des Beaux-Arts de Dijon) page 56
2 Plan of the chamber of clergy at the Estates of Burgundy
in 1697 (Source: Archives Départementales de la Côte d’Or) 60
3 Plan of the chamber of the third estate at the Estates of
Burgundy in 1697 (Source: Archives Départementales de la
Côte d’Or) 72
4 Plan of the chamber of élus of the Estates of Burgundy
(Source: Archives Départementales de la Côte d’Or) 127
ix
Figures
3.1Chamber of the clergy: attendance, 1682–1787 page 58

3.2 Chamber of the nobility: attendance, 1662–1787 65
3.3 Chamber of the third estate: attendance, 1688–1787 73
6.1 Triennial accounts of the Estates of Burgundy, 1645–1716 167
6.2 Annual cost of the military étapes, 1675–1715 170
6.3 Expenditure of the Estates of Burgundy, 1689–91 179
6.4 Revenue of the Estates of Burgundy, 1689–91 181
6.5 Taille levied in Burgundy, 1668–1715 182
6.6 Revenue of the Estates of Burgundy, 1706–8 184
10.1 Annual income and expenditure of the Estates of
Burgundy, 1715–65 297
10.2 Taille levied in Burgundy, 1715–89 301
10.3 Cost of the military étapes in Burgundy, 1715–86 312
10.4 Annual borrowing by the Estates of Burgundy on behalf
of the king, 1742–87 322
x
Appendices
1 Governors of Burgundy, 1661–1789 page 413

2 Intendants of Burgundy, 1661–1789 413
3 Élus of the clergy, 1662–1790 413
4 Élus of the nobility, 1662–1790 415
5 Élus of the third estate, 1662–1790 416
6 Vicomtes-mayeurs of Dijon, 1661–1790 417
7 Treasurer generals of the Estates of Burgundy, 1661–1790 418
8 Secrétaires des états of Burgundy, 1661–1790 418
9 Procureurs syndics of the Estates of Burgundy, 1661–1790 418
10 Conseils des états, 1661–1790 419
11 Alcades of the clergy, 1668–1790 419
12 Alcades of the nobility, 1662–1790 421
13 Alcades of the third estate, 1668–1790 423
14 Receivers of the taille in Burgundy, 1661–1789 426
xi
Map
1 The duchy of Burgundy in the eighteenth century

(Source: Archives Départmentales de la Côte d’Or C 3 860) page xvi
xii
Preface
This book has taken nearly a decade to produce and in the course of
what has often seemed an interminable struggle I have accumulated a large
number of debts. I would particularly like to thank James Collins, William
Doyle, Joël Félix, Roger Mettam, Mark Gilbert and Munro Price who have
kindly given up their time to read all, or part, of the manuscript and to
offer much help and encouragement. The three anonymous readers for
Cambridge University Press were also an invaluable source of constructive
and helpful criticism. Together they helped me to avoid many pitfalls and
errors, although all the remaining defects of this book are my own. Within
the wider circle of Burgundian enthusiasts I have enjoyed and benefited
from many discussions with Mark Bryant, Chris Corley, Simon Everett,
Jim Farr, Mack Holt, Jeff Houghtby and Charles Papon. In Dijon, professor
Hugues Richard generously shared his extensive knowledge of the Estates.
I am also grateful to my former research supervisor, Tim Blanning, for his
support at every stage of my career. I should also like to thank Richard Fisher
and Michael Watson of Cambridge University Press for their patience and
professional assistance.
Much of the research for this book was conducted in the Archives
Départementales and the Bibliothèque Municipale of Dijon and the
friendly and efficient staff made it a real pleasure. They offer another splen-
did example of how the Parisians could learn from the provinces. I should
also like to thank the British Academy for a small personal research grant
awarded in 1993 and the Scouloudi Foundation for an award that helped
to fund the initial stages of my work.
While working in Dijon and Paris, I have been helped immensely by the
friendship and hospitality of Philippe and Flore Dollo, Alain and Sophie
Meunier, Vincent and Sophie Moron and Anne Thierry. My Burgundian
family, Gil, Pierre, Emmanuelle, Dimitri and Clara have all given their
xiii
xiv Preface
constant support, as have my own family, Ron, Barbara, Jan, Paul and
Rene. However, this book would never have been started had it not been
for one very special Burgundian, my wife, Manon, to whom this book is
dedicated. Manon and my daughter, Margot, never cease to remind me of
the most important things in life.
Abbreviations
ADCO Archives Départementales de la Côte d’Or

ADSL Archives Départementales de la Saône et Loire
AN Archives Nationales
BMC AC Bibliothèque du Musée Condé, Archives Condé
BMD Bibliothèque Muncipale de Dijon
BN Bibliothèque Nationale
xv
Map 1 The duchy of Burgundy in the eighteenth century
chapter 1
Historians, absolute monarchy and

the provincial estates
t h e ‘w h i g i n t e r p re tat i o n ’ o f f re n c h h i s to ry
After witnessing the rise and often rapid fall of three monarchies, two
empires, five republics and the Vichy regime in the space of less than two
centuries, the French people can be forgiven a certain scepticism about the
durability of both their rulers and the country’s political institutions. Yet
through the ruins and debris left by kings, emperors and politicians of every
hue, the French have long been able to seek solace in the fact that the state
went on forever. The existence of a strong, centralised bureaucracy, simul-
taneously loved and loathed by the public, supplied a sense of permanence
and reliability denied to the mere mortals who flitted across the political
stage. Since at least the early nineteenth century, veneration of the state and
a belief in its centralising mission has formed an important part of French
national identity. It offered a force for unity that a divided and politically
traumatised people could cling to, and, not surprisingly, scholars looked
back beyond 1789 in search of its origins. The result was what we might
describe as the French version of the Whig school of history. Whereas the
British exponents of that school believed that the history of their country
could be written in terms of a long and triumphant march from the Magna
Carta to parliamentary democracy, the French saw a no less inexorable rise
of the state. The argument can be pushed back to the middle ages when
the monarchy gradually gained control of formerly independent provinces
such as Brittany, Burgundy, Provence or Languedoc, but it is the first half
of the seventeenth century that is usually taken to mark the birth of the
Leviathan.
Historians of the early nineteenth century, most famously Alexis de
Tocqueville, believed that it was during the reigns of Louis XIII and
Louis XIV that the monarchy first began the process of centralisation with
the ‘same patterns’ and the ‘same aims’ as in their own day.1 Throughout his
1 A. de Tocqueville, The ancien régime and the French revolution, trans. S. Gilbert (London, 1955), p. 132.
1
2 Provincial power and absolute monarchy
inspirational work, The ancien régime and the French revolution, Tocqueville
made repeated references to the alleged continuity of the French govern-
ment before and after 1789, declaring that in the eighteenth century it
‘was already highly centralised and all-powerful’.2 Indeed, ‘centralisation
fitted in so well with the programme of the new social order that the com-
mon error of believing it to have been a creation of the revolution is easily
accounted for’.3 To justify his thesis, Tocqueville identified a series of inter-
related factors including the exclusion of the nobility from an active part in
public affairs, the decline of intermediary bodies, the dominance of Paris
over the provinces and the establishment of a central authority of royal
council, ministers and intendants.4
There was nothing particularly original about these arguments.5 In 1844,
Alexandre Thomas had published a magnificent study of Burgundy dur-
ing the reign of Louis XIV in which he presented the Sun King, Richelieu,
François I and even Louis XI as servants of the ‘great national cause’ through
their contribution to ‘the forging of unity through centralisation’.6 Thomas
was engaging in a polemic with Legitimists about the merits of the an-
cient privileges and charters of the French provinces, which he represented
as a source of weakness and abuse, while Tocqueville had the regime of
Napoléon III firmly in his sights. Yet their arguments formed part of a
much broader interpretation of the ancien régime that took root in the
same period and which has become known to generations of students as
the ‘age of absolutism’. The broad contours of that thesis are reassuringly
familiar.7 From 1614 to 1789, the French monarchy ruled without recourse
to the Estates General, seemingly giving concrete expression to the theory
that the king was accountable to God alone. Representative government in
the provinces was also sharply curtailed with, among others, the provincial
estates of Dauphiné, Normandy, Guyenne and the Auvergne falling into
abeyance.
During the reign of Louis XIII the foundations of absolutism were laid.
Under the gaze of the cardinal de Richelieu, the Calvinist citadel of La
Rochelle was stormed in 1628, marking the end of the Huguenot ‘state
within a state’. Within a few years, it seemed as if the iron cardinal had
2 For this, and other examples, see ibid., pp. 25, 61, 84–5, 94, 222.
3 Ibid., p. 88. 4 Ibid., pp. 57, 62, 64–5, 99, 100–1, 222.
5 Tocqueville borrowed extensively from P. E. Lemontey, Essai sur l’établissement monarchique de Louis
XIV et sur les altérations qu’il éprouva pendant sa vie de prince (Paris, 1818).
6 A. Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV. Situation politique et administrative de la Bourgogne de 1661
à 1715, d’après les manuscrits et les documents inédits du temps (Paris, 1844), pp. xiv–xv.
7 The following is no more than an attempt to distil the most significant elements of what we might
call the absolutist thesis, and some of its tenets have been subsequently proved to be inaccurate.
Historians, monarchy and the provincial estates 3
made good his boast to ‘abase the pride of the nobles’.8 After the king’s
brother, Gaston d’Orléans, had led the latest in a long string of unsuc-
cessful aristocratic revolts, Richelieu ordered the execution of his principal
lieutenant, the duc de Montmorency, in October 1632. Such ruthless treat-
ment of a powerful grandee sent an unequivocal message that the habitual
disobedience of the high aristocracy would no longer be tolerated. Finally,
once France had officially entered the Thirty Years War in 1635, the gov-
ernment’s desperate need for funds obliged it to circumvent traditional
judicial and administrative officeholders, whose loyalty and efficiency were
questioned. They were replaced by the intendants, holding revocable com-
missions, whose broad professional remit was defined to include ‘justice,
police and finance’. It was these new state servants who were supposedly in
the vanguard of centralisation.
When Richelieu and Louis XIII died within a few months of each other
the political scene changed dramatically. In 1643, the new king, Louis XIV,
was a mere child, and the regency government of Anne of Austria and car-
dinal Mazarin was soon confronted by a backlash led by angry officeholders
and disgruntled aristocrats, with the latent support of a war weary populace.
The boy king was driven temporarily from his capital during the parlemen-
taire Fronde of 1648–9, and then saw his own relatives, headed by the
Grand Condé, raise their standards against Mazarin. Although eventually
defeated, the Fronde was a painful reminder of royal weakness, providing
a lesson that was not lost on the young monarch. After Mazarin’s death he
was determined to complete the work that Richelieu had started, breaking
the power of the grandees by obliging them to attend upon him in his mag-
nificent chateau at Versailles where, cut off from their power bases in the
provinces, they were effectively domesticated. New robe nobles, allegedly of
middle-class origins, dominated government and, after being chased from
the provinces during the Fronde, the intendants returned to their posts
with their powers and status enhanced. Finally, the parlements were pun-
ished for their earlier rebelliousness by a law of 1673, which obliged them
to register laws before making remonstrances.
Here, then, are the main ingredients of a thesis that seemingly carried all
before it, ensuring that historians long treated the monarchy of Louis XIV
and absolutism as synonymous. There was, of course, one glaring problem
with the concept of the Sun King commanding a powerful, centralised state –
the revolution. How could the monarchy have declined so rapidly and
comprehensively? In answering that question, historians were undoubtedly
8 L. André, ed., Testament politique (Paris, 1947), p. 95.

aided by the personal shortcomings of Louis XV and Louis XVI, neither
of whom could match the regal splendour of their great predecessor. Yet,
as both men had employed ministers whose commitment to reform was
unquestioned, a more weighty explanation was required. The answer was
to be found in the persistence of privilege. According to this interpretation,
the death of Louis XIV was followed almost immediately by a reaction
of powerful privileged groups led by the parlements, the Catholic Church
and the court aristocracy. Their largely selfish opposition to egalitarian
reform of the fiscal system paved the way to the royal bankruptcy that
preceded the revolution of 1789.9 The monarchy had thus been unable to
complete its centralising mission, and to return once more to Tocqueville, it
was the revolution that picked up the baton, completing ‘at one fell swoop,
without warning, without transition, and without compunction . . . what in
any case was bound to happen, if by slow degrees’.10 With this teleological
flourish, worthy of the finest Whig historians, he nailed his colours to
the mast; the rise of the modern French state was one long and inevitable
process.
t h e a d m i n i s t r at i ve m on arc h y
If few historians were tempted to put matters quite so bluntly as Tocqueville,
by the late nineteenth century the absolutist thesis was firmly established as
the orthodox interpretation. Rare were those like Pierre Ardascheff, who,
on the eve of the First World War, published an innovative study of the
intendants during the reign of Louis XVI, arguing that they worked in a mu-
tually rewarding partnership with the provinces.11 Ardascheff also rejected
Tocqueville’s claim that the intendants were part of a tightly controlled,
centralised administration, suggesting instead that they were far more in-
dependent than was usually imagined.12 The impact of his argument was
limited, and subsequent historians tended to reinforce the prevailing inter-
pretation. After examining the early decades of Louis XIV’s personal rule,
the influential Georges Pagès declared:
9 Historians of all political hues were attracted to this interpretation, see: A. Cobban, ‘The parlements
of France in the eighteenth century’, History 35 (1950), 64–80; F. L. Ford, Robe and sword. The
regrouping of the French aristocracy after Louis XIV (London, 1953); and A. Soboul, The French
revolution, 1787–1799. From the storming of the Bastille to Napoleon (London, 1989), pp. 27–8, 37,
81–2.
10 Tocqueville, Ancien régime and revolution, p. 51.
11 P. Ardascheff, Les intendants de province sous Louis XVI (Paris, 1909). 12 Ibid., pp. 95–6, 400.
. . . the former frondeurs have become the most attentive courtiers. The parlements
register edicts without saying a word. The assemblies of the [provincial] estates
no longer even discuss the don gratuit. The malcontents have disarmed or are
compelled to fall silent.13
A belief in the modernising role of the monarchical state was another fa-
miliar feature of the historical landscape. As a result, many of the great
institutional and political histories of the first half of the twentieth century
traced the seemingly permanent struggle between the crown and the par-
lements or provincial estates of the realm.14 Historians were divided about
the virtues of royal polices and the legitimacy of the provincial opposition,
but they were united in assuming that the extension of state power had
been achieved through confrontation and conflict.
There was also a general consensus that one of the consequences of the
governmental changes of the seventeenth century was the emergence of
a more impersonal bureaucratic monarchy.15 That interpretation has re-
ceived its fullest recent expression in the works of Michel Antoine, who
has examined both the maturation of the governmental structure of coun-
cils, ministers and intendants created by Louis XIV and its shortcomings.16
As Antoine makes clear, the almost exponential growth of business trans-
acted by the contrôleur général transformed his office into the real heart of
government. Yet the sheer volume and complexity of the workload han-
dled by the contrôle général meant that even the most dedicated monarch
was unable to control its operations. As a result, decisions supposedly
emanating from the king’s council were being made elsewhere by the
increasingly specialised technocrats of what he terms the ‘administrative
monarchy’. Antoine’s works are those of a passionate defender of the sys-
tem, but he is ultimately forced to concede that the monarchy died by
its own hand by creating a bureaucratic structure that was beyond the
13 G. Pagès, La monarchie d’ancien régime en France de Henri IV à Louis XIV , 3rd edn. (Paris, 1941),
p. 181.
14 A classic example was provided by the spat between Marcel Marion and Barthélemy Pocquet about
the rights and wrongs of the infamous Brittany affair, M. Marion, La Bretagne et le duc d’Aiguillon,
1753–1770 (Paris, 1898), and B. Pocquet, Le pouvoir absolu et l’esprit provincial. Le duc d’Aiguillon et
La Chalotais, 3 vols. (Paris, 1900–1).
15 For a number of influential examples, see: Pagès, Monarchie d’ancien régime, pp. 134–81; M. Bordes,
‘Les intendants éclairés de la fin de l’ancien régime’, Revue d’Histoire Économique et Sociale (1961),
57–83 and his L’administration provinciale et municipale en France au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1972);
F. Bluche, Louis XIV (Oxford, 1990), pp. 133–56, 615–26; J. Egret, Louis XV et l’opposition parlementaire
(Paris, 1970), pp. 43–5, 93–132; and J. Rule, ed., Louis XIV and the craft of kingship (Ohio, 1969),
pp. 9–10, 28–30.
16 M. Antoine, Le conseil du roi sous le règne de Louis XV (Geneva, 1970), pp. 377–431, 629–34.
control of the king and the traditional ideas and institutions that supported
him.17
According to Antoine, one of the consequences of these developments
was the emergence of modern public employees, ‘the first senior civil
servants’.18 Eighteenth-century France gave the world the term bureau-
cracy, and certain of its characteristics can be glimpsed in key institu-
tions, offering some qualified support for his hypothesis. The engineers of
the Ponts et Chaussées are amongst the most persuasive examples, as they
were appointed by competitive examination, were paid salaries and retire-
ment pensions and founded their careers upon talent rather than personal
contacts.19 Philippe Minard has observed similar patterns in his thought-
ful analysis of Colbert’s inspectors of manufacturers, and he concludes
that amongst their ranks ‘the face of the civil servant can be glimpsed
through that of the commissaire’.20 The employees of the ferme générale,
the intendants of finance and the premiers commis who served in the bu-
reaux of the secretaries of state can also be added to this list.21 In a period
when finance ministers flitted across the stage as frequently as actors in
a theatrical farce, it was their permanent officers who provided a much
needed repository of knowledge and competence. It was in these lower
tiers of the government that the backbone of the state machine was to be
found, and in terms of personnel at least the continuity between the ancien
régime and its revolutionary successors is beyond doubt.22 There were,
therefore, forces within the monarchy that were seeking to move in a more
uniform and egalitarian direction, and from an administrative perspective
there was undoubtedly a degree of continuity in the years after 1789. Yet
the degree of modernisation of the governmental structure should not be
exaggerated, and during the last twenty-five years the traditional concep-
tion of a bureaucratic, administrative monarchy has been subject to serious
challenge.
17 Ibid., p. 634. 18 Ibid., p. 390.

19 J. Petot, Histoire de l’administration des ponts et chaussées, 1599–1851 (Paris, 1958), and A. Picon,
L’invention de l’ingénieur moderne. L’école des ponts et chaussées, 1747–1851 (Paris, 1992).
20 P. Minard, La fortune du colbertisme. État et industrie dans la France des lumières (Paris, 1998),
pp. 75–114, esp. 113.
21 See: G. T. Matthews, The royal general farms in eighteenth-century France (New York, 1958),
pp. 185–227; J. Clinquart, Les services extérieurs de la ferme générale à la fin de l’ancien régime.
L’exemple de la direction des fermes du Hainaut (Paris, 1995), pp. 60, 183–208; and J. Félix, ‘Les
commis du contrôle général des finances au XVIIIe siècle’, L’administration des finances sous l’ancien
régime. Colloque tenu à Bercy les 22 et 23 février 1996 (Paris, 1997), 81–102.
22 C. H. Church, Revolution and red tape. The French ministerial bureaucracy, 1770–1850 (Oxford, 1981),
offers an impressive analysis of the development of French bureaucracy.
revi s i o n i s m a n d t h e n ew ort h o d ox y
It was with a certain amusing symmetry that Yves-Marie Bercé published
his textbook, La naissance dramatique de l’absolutisme in France at exactly
the same time as Nicholas Henshall’s, The myth of absolutism, appeared
in Britain.23 These diametrically opposed texts illustrate perfectly the gulf
separating the hostile camps in the debate. Bercé has written of the rising
power of the French state in the half century after 1630, with Mazarin’s
victory in the Fronde marking ‘the triumph of the very absolutism and
centralisation against which it had been directed’.24 It is a firm restatement
of the classic thesis, and when Bercé declares that ‘Mazarin wagered on a
cause which had a long past and a glorious future: the power of the French
state’ his stance is unequivocal. He is not alone, and François Bluche, while
more nuanced in his judgement, suggested in his acclaimed biography of
Louis XIV that the king could be considered the ‘first enlightened despot’.25
Henshall, on the other hand, rejects the term absolutism as a myth
resulting from a misreading of the political system of the ancien régime by
the historians of the nineteenth century.26 As he freely acknowledges, his
work has been inspired by the writings of, among others, Roger Mettam and
Peter Campbell, who form part of the radical wing of revisionist thinking.
They are at pains to point out that to talk of absolutism is to commit the sin
of anachronism, and to risk imposing a whole series of value judgements
about the nature of the French monarchy that would have made little
sense to contemporaries.27 When an historian as distinguished as Guy
Chaussinand-Nogaret can describe the death of Louis XIV as ushering in a
period of ‘destalinisation’,28 it is easy to share their misgivings. Louis XIV
23 Y-M. Bercé, La naissance dramatique de l’absolutisme, 1598–1661 (Paris, 1992), published in English
as The birth of absolutism. A history of France, 1598–1661 (London, 1996), and N. Henshall, The myth
of absolutism: change and continuity in early modern European monarchy (London, 1992), Sharon
Kettering, French society, 1589–1715 (London, 2001), pp. 81–95, has recently made a useful attempt to
steer between the two extremes.
24 Y-M. Bercé, Birth of absolutism, p. 177–8.
25 Bluche, Louis XIV , p. 619. A claim repeated by Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, The ancien régime. A
history of France, 1610–1774 (Oxford, 1996), p. 130.
26 Henshall, Myth of absolutism, pp. 210–12. As does J. B. Collins, The state in early modern France
(Cambridge, 1995), pp. 1–2, in another important general survey.
27 For a sample of their comments, see: Henshall, Myth of absolutism, pp. 199–212; R. Mettam, Power
and faction in Louis XIV’s France (Oxford, 1988), pp. 6–7, 34–41; and P. R. Campbell, The ancien
régime in France (Oxford, 1988), pp. 46–70, and his Louis XIV (London, 1993).
28 G. Chaussinand-Nogaret, The French nobility in the eighteenth century, trans. W. Doyle (Cambridge,
1984), p. 10. The introduction to this hugely influential work is entitled ‘le ghetto doré de la noblesse
royale’, and has as its starting point the assumption of an aristocracy reacting against the absolutism
of Louis XIV.
behaved on occasions as an autocrat, as the Huguenots and the nuns of Port-
Royal could both testify, but he should never be compared with modern
tyrants. As a result, Mettam treats the term ‘absolutist historians’ as if it
was synonymous with error, and Campbell has suggested that ‘baroque
state’ be used as an alternative.29 Revisionism is, however, about more than
just terminology, and it strikes at the heart of our understanding of the
development of the French state, with almost every aspect of the traditional
interpretation being vigorously challenged.
As we have seen, it was long argued that the political authority of the
nobility rapidly declined once the great aristocrats had been confined to
Versailles, far way from their power bases in the provinces. Rather than
seeing the palace as part of a deliberate strategy to tame the nobility, his-
torians such as Mettam and Jeroen Duindam have offered an alternative
explanation.30 They have drawn our attention to the court’s primary role
as royal household, an arena to which the grandees naturally gravitated
both to protect their own rank and status and to pursue their wider per-
sonal and family strategies. It was through attendance upon the king that
they could hope to secure the titles, offices and pensions needed to finance
their opulent lifestyles and to reaffirm their position in the social hierarchy.
Even the most cursory glance at the generals, governors, ambassadors and
senior clergy appointed between 1661 and 1789 confirms that the grandees
were fully employed. It is true that during the personal reign of Louis
XIV, the offices of secretary of state were dominated by the robe dynasties,
most famously those of Colbert, Le Tellier and Phélypeaux. Yet as Mettam
makes clear, Louis XIV constantly sought the advice of members of his
extended family and the aristocratic courtiers, none of whom would have
accepted the office of secretary of state, which they believed was beneath
them.31 It was not until the middle of the eighteenth century that these aris-
tocratic prejudices were abandoned with damaging consequences for the
monarchy.
Crucially, Louis XIV took personal responsibility for the distribution
of royal favour, successfully ‘focusing attention upon himself as the fount
of patronage, because of his evenhanded distribution of favours’.32 The
contrast with the ministries of Richelieu and Mazarin, when many aristo-
cratic revolts had been inspired by a sense of hopelessness resulting from
29 Mettam, Power and faction, passim, and P. R. Campbell, Power and politics in old regime France,
1720–1745 (London, 1996), pp. 4–5, 314.
30 Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 47–65, and J. Duindam, Myths of power. Norbert Elias and the early
modern European court (Amsterdam, 1994).
31 Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 55–65, 81–101. 32 Ibid., p. 56.
the monopoly of royal favour enjoyed by the cardinals, was striking. Such
desperate measures were no longer required, and to achieve their ends, the
courtiers formed into relatively fluid factional groupings, the infamous ca-
bals and partis that haunted the corridors and council chambers of Versailles.
It was a world that changed little in the hundred years after 1682, when
Louis XIV made the great palace the principal residence of his government
and court.33
By putting Versailles back into its proper historical perspective, the ar-
gument that the nobility was deprived of its authority loses some of its
shine. Much the same can be said of our understanding of politics in the
period. One of the dangers arising from a uniquely bureaucratic concep-
tion of the monarchy in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is that it
overlooks the persistence of more traditional features of government. The
ability of individuals or institutions to achieve their personal or corporate
goals depended, in part, upon their ability to secure access to the monarch,
or the powerful courtiers or ministers that surrounded him. Within this
context, influence was exerted through private, informal contacts, and win-
ning the ear of the king’s favourite,34 or mistress, could produce results far
more rapidly than petitioning through the official channels of ministers
and their clerks. There is nothing incompatible about a vision of gov-
ernment functioning in both a formal and informal way, and to try and
study the royal administration from just one perspective runs the risk of
distortion.
Rethinking the nature of court society is only one part of a broader
revisionist programme, and there is now a much greater awareness of the
enormous degree of continuity within almost every aspect of ancien régime
society and government. Central to that argument is a belief that it was,
in part, through the workings of patronage and clientèle that the crown
extended its authority, suggesting that the ancien régime state had as much,
if not more, in common with its medieval ancestors as with modern bu-
reaucratic regimes. A lively debate has raged about the strength of clientèle
ties, with, at it most extreme, Roland Mousnier arguing that it was possible
to talk of emotionally intense bonds of loyalty, what he termed ‘fidelités’,
33 Recent studies highlighting the role of court faction in old regime politics include: M. Bryant,
‘Françoise d’Aubigné, marquise de Maintenon: religion, power and politics – a study in circles of
influence during the later reign of Louis XIV, 1684–1715’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University
of London, 2001); Campbell, Power and politics; J. Hardman, French politics, 1774–1789. From the
accession of Louis XVI to the fall of the Bastille (London, 1995); M. Price, Preserving the monarchy. The
comte de Vergennes, 1774–1787 (Cambridge, 1995); and J. Swann, Politics and the parlement of Paris
under Louis XV, 1754–1774 (Cambridge, 1995).
34 Bryant, ‘Marquise de Maintenon’, provides an excellent example.
linking patron and client.35 Such bonds undoubtedly existed, and there is
no shortage of examples of individuals risking their lives and their fortunes
for a benefactor. However, as we might expect, many patron-client ties
were more complex, or, as Sharon Kettering describes matters, ‘the ideal
may have been a fidelity relationship of lifelong devotion to one patron,
but the political reality was messier’.36 It was, therefore, common for clients
to swap patrons, or serve multiple patrons, as part of the broader pursuit
of self-interest, and it was these personal, non-bureaucratic ties that proved
crucial not only to the expansion of royal power in the seventeenth century,
but also to the functioning of the ancien régime political system.
An examination of the principal officers and administrative servants of
the crown quickly reveals the importance of patronage. Struck by the con-
trast between the aristocratic warlords, who repeatedly plunged France into
civil war before 1661 and their courtier descendants, historians assumed that
they had been cut off from the provinces, where the intendants now reigned
supreme, with governorships being gradually transformed into sinecures.37
By the end of the eighteenth century it is likely that this was the case,38 but
the pace of change was much slower than was initially thought. Instead of
losing contact with the provinces, the absentee governors, in the words of
Robert Harding, ‘revived their renaissance roles as brokers’.39 Their social
rank brought proximity to the king and an authority that even the most
powerful minister could not ignore, and quite naturally provincial bodies,
or private individuals, looked to them for assistance and preferment.40 The
works of Katia Béguin and Beth Natcheson have provided some of the most
compelling evidence in favour of the continuing power of the governors.
They have demonstrated the immense influence wielded by the Condé in
Burgundy, and this study will reinforce that argument.41 Elsewhere the ev-
idence is more mixed. The duc de Chaulnes proved an effective governor
35 R. Mousnier, ‘Les concepts de “ordres”, d’ “états”, de “fidelité” et de “monarchie absolue” en France
de la fin du XVe, siècle à la fin du XVIIIe’, Revue Historique 502 (1972), 289–312, and his ‘Les fidélités
et clientèles en France aux XVIe, XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles’, Histoire Sociale – Social History 15 (1982),
35–46.
36 S. Kettering, Patrons, brokers and clients in seventeenth-century France (Oxford, 1986), p. 21. Kettering’s
work is an essential introduction to the subject.
37 Bordes, L’administration provinciale, pp. 26–7, 32–5.
38 A research project on the role of the provincial governors in the reign of Louis XVI might well yield
some interesting results.
39 R. R., Harding, Anatomy of a power elite: the provincial governors of early modern France (New Haven,
1978), pp. 201–3.
40 Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 47–54.
41 K. Béguin, Les princes de Condé. Rebelles, courtisans et mécènes dans la France du grand siècle (Paris,
1999), and B. Natcheson, ‘Absentee government and provincial governors in early modern France:
the princes of Condé and Burgundy, 1660–1720’, French Historical Studies 21 (1998), 265–98.
of Brittany, and successive generations of the Villeroy family proved to be
able and active governors of the Lyonnais.42 Others were less conspicuous,
Kettering has suggested that in the second half of the seventeenth century,
the governors of Provence ‘chose to focus their careers on military service
in the royal armies’,43 and William Beik’s study of Languedoc in the same
period conveys a similar impression of decline.44 That Kettering and Beik
should discount the role of the governors after 1661 is not the result of
any doubts about the importance of patronage to Louis XIV’s government.
Instead, as Beik describes matters, one of the reasons for the sun king’s
success lay in the fact that ‘for the first time under Colbert, the dominant
client network was really a royal network, centering on the king himself
and tied directly to the central administration’.45
Closer examination of other areas of government has produced further
evidence of the significance of clientèle and of the persistence of patrimo-
nial attitudes within the government structure at odds with the supposedly
more modern bureaucratic ethos of the administrative monarchy. Perhaps
nowhere is this more apparent than in the area of government finance. In
1973, Julian Dent made what, at the time, must have seemed a quite an
extraordinary claim that ‘during the years 1635–61 and 1683–1715, financiers
came to dominate the financial administration of the state, parcelling it up
into private fiefs in a fragmentation of authority and power redolent more
of a low species of bastard feudalism than of absolutist bureaucracy’.46 Yet
his suggestion that the financial system was controlled by fiscal clientèles, of
whom the most famous chiefs were those great rivals Colbert and Fouquet,
has been borne out by a series of meticulous studies.47 The army has also
provided fertile ground for re-evaluation. David Parrott has argued that
42 For details on the actions of the Villeroy, see Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 198–9, and W. G.
Monahan, Year of sorrows The great famine of 1709 in Lyon (Columbus, 1993), pp. 49–51, 59–60, 80,
168–9.
43 S. Kettering, Judicial politics and urban revolt in seventeenth-century France. The Parlement of Aix,
1629–1659 (Princeton, 1978), pp. 147–8.
44 W. Beik, Absolutism and society in seventeenth-century France. State power and provincial aristocracy
in Languedoc (Cambridge, 1985), pp. 48, 228–44.
45 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 244. Kettering, Patrons, brokers and clients, p. 223, argues that ‘the
ministers of a centralizing Bourbon monarchy created their own administrative clienteles in the
provinces’. D. Bohanan, Crown and nobility in early modern France (London, 2001), is another to
stress the importance of royal patronage in this regard.
46 J. Dent, Crisis in finance: crown, financiers and society in seventeenth-century France (New York, 1973),
p. 20.
47 Amongst the most important are: F. Bayard, Le monde des financiers au XVIIe siècle (Paris, 1988); R. J.
Bonney, The king’s debts. Finance and politics in France, 1589–1661 (Oxford, 1981); J. B. Collins, Fiscal
limits of absolutism: direct taxation in seventeenth-century France (London, 1988); and D. Dessert,
Argent, pouvoir et société au grand siècle (Paris, 1984).
for all their absolutist reputation, the ministries of Richelieu and Mazarin
left control of the French army firmly in the hands of the great aristocratic
patrons.48 As for the reinvigorated naval administration, it has been de-
fined as ‘a lobby comparable to that surrounding Colbert in the financial
domain’.49 Even the intendants can be integrated into a framework of pa-
tronage and clientèle. They were recruited from a relatively narrow section
of the robe nobility, and their advancement was frequently dependent upon
family or personal contacts.50 Many of their subdelegates were officeholders
and the premier commis, who most closely resembled modern bureaucrats,
required patronage as well as talent to secure an appointment. David Parker
has gone as far as to claim that ‘patrimonial mechanisms of rule remained
more important than bureaucratic ones’.51 Finding a generally acceptable
conclusion to this argument is never going to be easy, but it is clear that any
balanced assessment of the monarchical administration has to take both
factors into consideration.
t h e c a r rot a n d t h e s t i ck
The traditional image of provincial independence being broken by the
intendants has presented a particularly tempting target for revisionists, not
least because earlier historians had tended to exaggerate the ability of a few
dozen individuals, working alone in large and often hostile généralités, to
act as the single-minded agents of centralisation. As William Beik remarks
‘they appear more frequently in local studies as isolated, beleaguered bearers
of unpopular edicts, who are threatened with denigration, pillage, and
popular insurrection’.52 He was referring to the early seventeenth century,
and doubts if they became the ‘triumphant dictators of centralization . . .
until very late’. Indeed, the extent to which they ever became so dominant in
the pays d’états remains to be proven. Even the most powerful intendants had
to tread warily because creating a good impression at Versailles was about
48 D. Parrott, Richelieu’s army. War, government and society in France, 1624–1642 (Cambridge, 2001).
Nor did matters change all that rapidly during the reign of Louis XIV, as Guy Rowlands, ‘Louis
XIV, aristocratic power and the elite units of the French army’, French History 13 (1999), 303–31, has
shown.
49 D. Dessert, ‘La marine royale, une filiale Colbert’, in C. Giry-Deloison and R. Mettam, eds.,
Patronages et clientélismes (London, 1992), pp. 69–83, 80.
50 R. J. Bonney, Political change in France under Richelieu and Mazarin, 1624–1661 (Oxford, 1976),
pp. 29–111, and Kettering, Patrons, brokers and clients, pp. 224–8.
51 D. Parker, Class and state in ancien régime France. The road to modernity? (London, 1996),
pp. 26–7, 173–87. Church, Revolution and red tape, provides persuasive evidence of how patri-
monialism continued to stifle the bureaucratic tendencies within the ancien régime administration.
52 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 14–15.
more than blind obedience to ministerial diktat, it was also vital to achieve
results. Respect for provincial social elites and an awareness of their interests
was highly advisable, otherwise the intendant risked provoking opposition
that could wreck his career. A degree of caution is therefore advisable when
assessing their role, but, as Richard Bonney has argued, the intendants were
still a priceless asset to the crown because of the administrative flexibility
they offered.53 Their powers could be increased, or quickly amended to
take account of changing circumstances, and unlike governors, provincial
estates or other institutions, they could be dismissed without cost.
Downplaying the authoritarian nature of the intendants is part of a
broader revisionist strategy designed to recast the power of Louis XIV as
more apparent than real and great emphasis has been laid upon the suc-
cess of royal propaganda in dazzling both contemporaries and subsequent
historians.54 The coercive element in government has also been questioned,
and Albert Hamscher’s meticulous studies of the Parlement of Paris have
demonstrated that Louis XIV was prepared to protect its legitimate inter-
ests in the field of the law.55 What he did not wish to see was a repeti-
tion of the events of his minority, when the parlements had strayed into
the political arena. Mettam has gone further, claiming that Louis XIV’s
declaration of 24 February 1673, obliging the parlements to register laws
before making remonstrances, was much less restrictive than previously
thought.56 John Hurt has recently challenged this harmonious vision, ar-
guing persuasively that in 1673 the king really did strike a severe blow
against parlementaire pretensions.57 By forcing the parlements to register
edicts, declarations and letters patent immediately, Louis XIV curtailed the
often lengthy pre-registration debates, remonstrances and obstructionist
tactics that had so frequently frustrated his predecessors. Although Hurt
does not dispute Hamscher’s findings about cooperation on judicial mat-
ters, he describes this as the result of the successful application of Louis XIV’s
absolutist policies culminating in the declaration of February 1673. More-
over, Hurt has revealed the immense financial burden deliberately imposed
upon the parlementaires, who by the end of the reign were in a sorry
state ‘with their offices taxed, yielding scant income, reduced in value,
53 Bonney, Political change, pp. 442–3.
54 Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 13–14, 16, 26–7, and Campbell, Power and politics, pp. 12–13.
55 A. N. Hamscher, The Parlement of Paris after the Fronde, 1653–1673 (London, 1976), and his The
conseil privé and the parlements in the age of Louis XIV: a study in French absolutism (Philadelphia,
1987).
56 Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 266–7, argues that it applied to letters patent, not edicts and
declarations and it is true that the text is ambiguous.
57 J. J. Hurt, Louis XIV and the parlements. The assertion of royal authority (Manchester, 2002).
heavily mortgaged, exposed to creditors and with unpaid augmentations de
gages’.58
It is a telling reminder that revisionism should not be overdone, and
that Louis XIV’s government had an iron fist inside the velvet glove. The
monarchy often acted arbitrarily and its relationship with French elites
could also be conflictual.59 Yet if the government had relied too heavily on
coercion, the tactic would have soon proved counter-productive, as events
during the reign of Louis XIII had demonstrated. Louis XIV’s rule was so
successful in restoring order because he also made a conscious effort to woo
French elites, and the theme of cooperation is the leitmotif running through
the different strands of revisionist thinking. This is particularly relevant
when we turn our attention to the pays d’états, where recent research has
revealed a far more complex relationship with the crown than was hitherto
suspected.
Beik, in particular, has offered a remarkable insight into the government
of Languedoc in the seventeenth century. During the ministries of Richelieu
and Mazarin, the province was rocked by periodic revolts, suffered attacks
on some of its leading institutions, notably the Estates, and experienced a
dramatic increase in the fiscal burden. It was, as Beik tellingly describes it,
a period that demonstrated ‘how badly the system could work’.60 During
the early years of Louis XIV’s personal rule the situation was transformed
with the establishment of order and tranquillity. The king’s success was not
the result of repression, ‘but of a more successful defense of ruling class
interests, through collaboration and improved direction’.61 According to
Beik’s analysis, absolutism was nothing less than the ‘story of a restructured
feudal society’, with monarch and landed aristocracy ‘exploring ways of
defending their interests in a changing world’.
Louis XIV was deeply suspicious of any form of dissent and was deter-
mined to be obeyed, but he was also prepared to be generous towards those
willing to collaborate. Languedoc’s elites soon learned that they would be
rewarded for good behaviour. The crown tolerated their control of the
local fiscal system, the siphoning off of large sums into the pockets of
those involved in tax collection, and the distribution of generous pensions
and gifts to the powerful.62 Earlier sources of dispute, such as the costs
of provisioning the military étapes, or the winter quarters of royal armies,
were also subject to more sensitive treatment. Rather than try to impose
58 Ibid., p. 116.
59 An argument that most revisionists are happy to accept, see, for example, Collins, The state in early
modern France, pp. 1–2.
60 Beik, Absolutism and society, p. 219. 61 Ibid., p. 31. 62 Ibid., pp. 258–78.
its decisions arbitrarily, the government revealed a genuine willingness to
consult with provincial bodies and to delegate responsibility. After much
initial hesitation the Estates were persuaded to contribute towards the costs
of constructing the Canal du Midi, and they also participated enthusi-
astically in the renewed campaign of persecution against the Huguenots,
which culminated in the decision to revoke the edict of Nantes.63 Finally,
the personal rule of Louis XIV was characterised by respect for the rights
of existing institutions and for social hierarchy, something that could only
profit the privileged classes, who, according to Beik, were ‘basking in the
sun’.
Beik’s study reveals the glaring weakness at the heart of older interpre-
tations based upon the almost inevitable confrontation between the crown
and the provinces. He also reinforces one of the revisionists’ most pow-
erful arguments, namely that mutually beneficial cooperation is the key
to understanding how Louis XIV calmed the unrest that had threatened
to tear France apart during his minority. Beik does not seek to claim that
Languedoc was typical of the kingdom as a whole, but the research of
James Collins in another pays d’états, Brittany, reveals a similar pattern.64
The willingness of the king to cooperate with local elites is again one of
the defining features of the regime, and, as Collins describes matters, ‘the
compromise of Louis XIV protected the vital interests of everyone: greater
security for investors in royal debt; reduced direct taxes; a more stable tax
leasing environment; clear support for the traditional social, moral, and
political order of the localities’.65 As in Languedoc it was the tax-paying
peasantry which lost out as a result of what he describes as a ‘cozy little
relationship’ of noble landowners, the legal class and the crown.66
The model of French government that emerges from recent scholarship
is one in which the deft distribution of patronage, or careful management
of the nobility, seems more important than the centralising drive of an
absolutist bureaucracy. That clearly raises awkward questions about exactly
what type of state, or society, the ancien régime monarchy represented,
and how closely it might be related to the modern state. Scholars such as
Beik or Parker, who have been seeking to provide a reinvigorated Marxist
analysis of monarchical absolutism, have no qualms about describing the
seventeenth-century monarchy as essentially feudal. Moreover, they have
largely abandoned the classic search for evidence of class struggle in favour
63 Ibid., pp. 287–97.
64 Collins, Classes, estates, and order in early modern Brittany (Cambridge, 1995). The work of Bohanan,
Crown and nobility, pp. 126–50, should also be consulted.
65 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, p. 283. 66 Ibid., p. 175.
of an analysis which posits the existence of a single ruling class working in
harmony with the crown. Parker thus asserts that ‘the [old regime] state
does not simply serve ruling class interests but is actually an instrument in
the hands of the ruling class’.67
Without wishing to deny the important insights that the Marxist schol-
arly tradition has to offer, it is not necessary to be a disciple of Mousnier
to have certain doubts.68 There is a danger that a portrayal of Louis XIV’s
France as a feudal society, dominated by a monarchy working in tandem
with a single powerful class, is both too static and oversimplified. Perhaps the
greatest problem arises from the attempt to integrate aristocratic grandees,
sword nobles, the robe nobility and the wider world of officeholders and
financiers into a single coherent ruling class.69 Although they undoubtedly
had much in common, Beik emphasises their access ‘to that most precious
commodity, power’,70 they were also divided. Conflicts arose on account
of, amongst other things, social status, corporate affiliation, profession,
wealth and the actual extent of their political connections. It was precisely
because ancien régime society was so fragmented that the monarchy was
obliged to work with so many different social and institutional groups,
whose composition varied markedly from one province to the next. Con-
flict amongst themselves and with the crown was endemic, and to try and
conceptualise often distinct social and professional groups as a unique class
seems needlessly restrictive and potentially misleading. As a result, many
scholars, including this one, are happier to talk of elites as a more accurate
representation of a complex society. Such an approach has the advantage of
underlining the importance of balance and mutual reward in Louis XIV’s
ruling consensus, and of explaining the breakdown of that relationship in
the eighteenth century.
There is also a danger that the revisionist argument more generally exag-
gerates the extent to which the monarchy was in thrall to vested interests.
In part, this is the result of the strong emphasis on the pays d’états whose
institutional structure facilitated the defence of local rights. The history of
the pays d’élections in the same period has attracted less scholarly attention,
and further research is required before we will have a fully rounded picture
67 Parker, Class and state, pp. 26–7, 266.
68 Throughout a long and distinguished career, Mousnier sought to refute a class analysis of
seventeenth-century France, seeking instead to prove the existence of a society of orders. His The
institutions of France, 1598–1789, 2 vols. (Chicago, 1979–84), provides a full exposition of his views,
which have now largely fallen out of favour. M. Bush, ed., Social orders and social classes in Europe
since 1500. Studies in social stratification (London, 1992), and R. Mettam, ‘Two dimensional history:
Mousnier and the ancien régime’, History 66 (1981), 221–32, explain why.
69 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 42–55, 335–9. 70 Ibid., p. 55.
of Louis XIV’s government. Indeed, when confronted by a hostile European
coalition after 1689, Louis XIV was forced to mobilise fiscal and military
resources on a hitherto unimagined scale, a development with profound
political and administrative consequences. One of the most striking results
was the extension of direct taxation to the privileged classes. In his exam-
ination of the dixième tax levied by Louis XIV in 1710, Richard Bonney
has questioned whether the monarchy’s reputation for fiscal ineptitude is
deserved when ‘a wide-ranging new scheme of taxation could be “invented”
relatively fast and, moreover, be made to work’.71 Bonney is conscious that
there were social and political limits to what could be achieved, but Michael
Kwass has recently made a compelling case for the argument that in the
eighteenth century the privileged were far more heavily taxed than is often
thought.72 Yet, as Kwass illustrates so ably, any benefits accruing from this
success were more than outweighed by the resulting anger of the privileged
taxpayers. Unlike the peasants, who had long borne the brunt of the fiscal
burden, the privileged had the time, knowledge and above all the oppor-
tunity to protest, whether through simple petitions to the intendant, or by
voicing their complaints in institutions such as the parlements or provincial
estates, and in the process they made a vital contribution to an increasingly
ideologically charged political debate.73
p r i v i l e g e rev i s i t e d
A fresh approach to office-holding and privilege forms a further prong of the
revisionist assault. The initial attack was directed against the concept of a
reforming monarchy, vainly seeking to overcome the selfish obstructionism
of privileged groups, notably the parlements.74 That has been followed
by a re-evaluation of the precise relationship between the monarchy and
privilege, with historians such as David Bien, Gail Bossenga and William
Doyle emphasising the complex and mutually reinforcing fiscal relationship
71 R. Bonney, ‘ “Le secret de leurs familles”: the fiscal and social limits of Louis XIV’s dixième’, French
History 7 (1993), 383–416.
72 M. Kwass, Privilege and the politics of taxation in eighteenth-century France (Cambridge, 2000). His
work confirms a thesis first pioneered by C. B. A. Behrens, ‘Nobles, privileges and taxes in France
at the end of the ancien régime’, Economic History Review 15 (1963), 451–75, and her ‘A revision
defended: nobles, privileges and taxes in France’, French Historical Studies 9 (1976), 521–31. For a
critique of her work, see G. Cavanaugh, ‘Nobles, privileges and taxes in France: a revision reviewed’,
French Historical Studies 10 (1974), 681–92.
73 Kwass, Privilege and politics, pp. 155–222, 311–19.
74 W. Doyle, ‘The parlements of France and the breakdown of the old régime, 1771–1788’, French
Historical Studies 6 (1970), 415–58, was especially influential in this regard.
which bound them together.75 It is well known that the monarchy sold
thousands of offices in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, raising
millions of livres in the process. Venality was, however, about much more
than selling offices because their purchasers were organised into corps and
subsequently provided an irresistible target for further fundraising. The
paulette was the most famous of these devices, with officers paying an
annual fee of one-sixtieth of their official office price to guarantee the right
to pass it on to their successors, a key step in the creation of an hereditary
caste of officeholders which the crown could never afford to replace.
That did not prevent the state from continuing to draw money from
the system. Having invested large sums in an office, and frequently the
right to exercise a profession, the owners were understandably determined
to protect what was now a significant portion of their patrimony. They
were consequently extremely vulnerable to the extortionist tactics of the
crown, which ruthlessly exploited expedients including augmentation des
gages, and the threat, real or imagined, of creating new offices, or removing
privileges from existing ones, to raise funds.76 To protect its investment, the
endangered corps was usually quick to propose an alternative, principally by
offering a substantial sum to the royal treasury to buy off the threat. Once
a deal had been struck, the king would magnanimously agree to confirm
all of the corps’ existing rights and privileges, thus providing the collateral
it needed to borrow. Much the same tactics were employed against the
provincial estates, town councils and even the Catholic church, and it has
to be said that the system proved lucrative.77 As Bien has demonstrated,
the corps were using their own credit to raise money for the king at a rate
far below what the monarchy could command on the open market.78 Far
from being locked in a life and death struggle with privileged interests, the
monarchy continued to reinforce the system as it provided one of its most
dependable sources of revenue.
a p ro b l e m ?
After a generation of revisionism, our understanding of ancien régime society
and its institutions has been greatly enriched. The simple cliché of an
75 See: D. Bien, ‘Offices, corps, and a system of state credit’, in K. M. Baker, ed., The French revolution
and the creation of modern political culture, vol.1, The political culture of the old regime (Oxford, 1987),
pp. 89–114; G. Bossenga, The politics of privilege: old regime and revolution in Lille (Cambridge, 1991);
and W. Doyle, Venality. The sale of offices in eighteenth-century France (Oxford, 1996).
76 Doyle, Venality, pp. 26–57, and Bossenga, Politics of privilege, pp. 41–6, are rich in examples.
77 M. Potter, ‘Good offices: intermediation by corporate bodies in early modern French public finance’,
The Journal of Economic History 60 (2000), 599–626, examines the system in detail.
78 Bien, ‘Offices, corps’, 106–12.
absolutist monarchy crushing opposition in the seventeenth century, only
to succumb in turn to the nefarious effects of privileged opposition less
than a hundred years later is largely discredited. Instead, what revisionists
have demonstrated is that the government of Louis XIV continued to have
much in common with that of its predecessors. What distinguished it
was an ability to make old methods of rule function more effectively and
the restoration of order was the result. Patronage was clearly central to the
workings of the system, with the Sun King’s relatively balanced distribution
of royal largesse convincing the grandees that their old rebelliousness was no
longer fruitful or appropriate. In the provinces, especially the pays d’états,
rather than falling under the jackboots of the intendants, local elites were
drawn into the royal patronage network, reaping rewards of both a material
and honorific nature.
As the Bretons discovered to their cost in 1675, opposition to the king
was dangerous and unprofitable, and a willingness to wield both the carrot
and the stick meant that when Louis XIV launched France on another
cycle of wars no less costly than those of 1635–59 there was no repetition of
the unrest seen during the Fronde. Many of the most influential revisionist
texts are, therefore, happy to conclude midway through the reign of the Sun
King, having answered in their own distinctive ways the question of how
a previously disorderly kingdom was pacified.79 Yet it was after 1688 that
the monarchy faced its sternest test, and so far there has been little analysis
of how the new ‘absolutist’ consensus met the challenge,80 nor has the
development of that relationship in the eighteenth century been scrutinised
in any depth. A detailed history of the Estates General of Burgundy cannot
hope to provide a definitive answer to these questions alone, but it does offer
a valuable means of analysing the evolution of the relationship between the
centre and the provinces, opening up wider debates about the nature of
French government and society.
h i s to r i a n s a n d t h e p rov i n c i al e s tat e s
The study of representative institutions in early modern Europe has a long
and distinguished history and it continues to be the focus of stimulating
debate.81 Much ink has been spilt disputing whether or not estates were
79 This applies to the works of, among others, Beik, Bohanan, Bonney and Kettering cited above.
80 One exception is Collins, The state in early modern France, pp. 140–6, 163–72, who has argued that
‘The great period of reform and change under Louis XIV came not early in the reign, under Colbert
and Louvois, but at its end’, ibid., p. 146.
81 The academic journal Parliaments, Estates and Representation provides a good example of continuing
interest.
medieval relics, blocking the path to more modern political and administra-
tive systems, or beacons of light in the absolutist darkness pointing towards
a parliamentary future. Disputes about the role of the French provincial
estates have been no less passionate. In 1844, Thomas fulminated:
the struggle of the memories of the past against the victorious influences of the
present, the struggle of a decadent provincial administration against that of the
monarchy in all its force, that is what I have seen everywhere in Burgundy under
Louis XIV.82
The Estates were the principal target of his ire, and to his credit Thomas was
well aware that they had retained considerable power; he simply considered
that regrettable. In his study of the Estates of Languedoc published at the
end of the nineteenth century, Paul Rives declared:
when this administration so envied by the pays d’élections is examined closely, the
legend disappears leaving a sad reality. Certainly the Estates formed a safeguard for
the province, but a very weak and fragile one; powerless before the royal authority
and often an obstacle in face of the legitimate demands of public opinion.83
François Olivier-Martin later reached similar conclusions: ‘the provincial
estates, already badly suited to the conditions of the sixteenth century had
become by the eighteenth century irreparably archaic, so that come the great
crisis of the revolution, their decrepitude was immediately apparent’.84
The Estates of Burgundy have frequently provided historians with a
tempting example of supposed decadence. To be fair, despite his Whiggish
attachment to the onward march of the forces of centralisation, Tocqueville
was aware that the pays d’états could not be integrated comfortably into his
grand schema. Instead, he inserted a rather cumbersome footnote, praising
the administration of the provincial estates of Languedoc.85 Unfortunately,
he seems either to have missed or ignored the earlier work of Thomas, and
claimed that ‘true provincial self-government existed only in two provinces,
Brittany and Languedoc. Elsewhere the estates had become mere shadows
of their former selves, ineffectual and inert’.86 Tocqueville may have been
inspired by the opinion of the marquis d’Argenson, who in the 1730s had
written that ‘the Estates of Languedoc are episcopal and the best for the
public good; those of Brittany are noble, mutinous and jealous; those of
82 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. iv.

83 P. Rives, Étude sur les attributions financières des états provinciaux et en particulier des états de Languedoc
au dix-huitième siècle (Paris, 1885), p. 67.
84 F. Olivier-Martin, L’administration provinciale à la fin de l’ancien régime (Paris, 1988), p. 309.
85 Tocqueville, Ancien régime and revolution, pp. 229–39. 86 Ibid., p. 229.
Burgundy are obedient to a despotic government’.87 In the face of such
damning verdicts, the value of writing a history of the Estates of Burgundy
might appear slight. Fortunately, these sweeping generalisations can be
discounted, and throughout the period after 1661 they remained a lively
and effective institution.88
However, the argument that the provincial estates were declining is not
entirely without foundation. The early seventeenth century sounded the
death knell of the local assemblies in many provinces, which were trans-
formed into pays d’élections. As Kettering has noted, ‘provinces with Estates
were notoriously uncooperative in granting and paying the taille’,89 and
it is tempting to assume that the crown’s fiscal motives lay behind their
demise.90 Certainly in Provence it would seem that the king found it easier
to work with an alternative body, the Assembly of the Communities, and
allowed the Estates to lapse,91 while in Dauphiné the divisions amongst
the members of the assembly provided a pretext for its suppression.92 Fear
of political unrest may also have influenced the decision of the crown,
especially in rebellious Normandy, although provinces such as Burgundy,
Brittany and Languedoc were all guilty on that score and their assemblies
survived. The remaining Estates were also flawed in the sense that their as-
semblies were not representative of society as a whole, and most failed even
to represent the two privileged orders adequately. This was certainly the
case in Burgundy, and, if anything, attendance was becoming even more
restrictive after 1661.93
87 Quoted in A. Babeau, La province sous l’ancien régime, 2 vols. (Paris, 1894), i, p. 29. D’Argenson,
who disliked the duc de Bourbon, presumably meant a despotic governor, although the phrase is
ambiguous.
88 As I will be discussing the literature on the Estates of Burgundy in greater detail in subsequent
chapters, it seemed unnecessary to repeat the exercise here. However, for a sample of the more
important publications, see: F. Dumont, Une session des états de Bourgogne. La tenue de 1718 (Dijon,
1935); D. Ligou, ‘Les états de Bourgogne et les problèmes fiscaux à la fin du dix-huitième siècle’,
in Mélanges Antonio Marongiu (Palermo, 1967), pp. 97–128, and his ‘Elus et alcades des Etats de
Bourgogne aux XVIIIe siècle’, Actes du 92e Congrès des Sociétés Savantes (Strasbourg and Colmar,
1967), 19–40; L. Blin, ‘Les subsistances en Bourgogne, 1709–1710’, Annales de Bourgogne 12 (1940),
69–80 and 13 (1941), 308–17; and H. Richard, ‘Nouveaux documents sur les états de Bourgogne
(1787), à propos d’une lettre de Girard-Labrely’, Annales de Bourgogne 69 (1997), 65–88.
89 Kettering, Judicial politics, p. 86.
90 Bonney, Political change, pp. 349–51. Bonney has noted that the provincial estates survived in regions
of the taille réelle, in those where the taille was personelle they did not.
91 Ibid., pp. 64–5. The work of F-X. Emmanuelli, Un mythe de l’absolutisme bourbonien: l’intendance, du
milieu du XVIIe siècle à la fin du XVIIIe siècle (Aix-en-Provence, 1981), is essential for understanding
the administration of Provence in the subsequent period.
92 D. Hickey, The coming of French absolutism: the struggle for tax reform in the province of Dauphiné,
1540–1640 (London, 1986), and Bohanan, Crown and nobility, pp. 101–25.
93 See chapter 3.
Few have made a greater contribution to the study of representative
institutions in early modern France than Russell Major, but even he was
convinced that they were a fading force in the seventeenth century.94 Major
argued that the renaissance monarchy of the sixteenth century was consti-
tutional in the sense that there were ‘significant institutional, theoretical,
and/or practical limitations upon the authority of the king’.95 Moreover,
this was not the result of royal weakness relative to the institutional rem-
nants of an earlier age, but, rather, part of a much more positive relationship
in which the ‘growth of self-government paralleled the growth of monar-
chical government’.96 For Major, it was not until the seventeenth century,
and particularly the reign of Louis XIV, that the representative, renaissance
monarchy was transformed into an absolute monarchy, where ‘there were
no theoretical limitations on the king’s authority other than those imposed
by divine, natural, and a few fundamental laws’.97 Major’s analysis of the
reign of the sun king remained wedded to a largely traditional interpreta-
tion, with the provincial estates falling silent. As we shall see, reality was
more complicated, and despite his absolutist reputation Louis XIV was
prepared to tolerate their existence, with his government coming to realise
that they could perform a valuable service.
The Estates of Languedoc, for example, enjoyed a deserved reputation
for efficient fiscal management, a potentially attractive quality for the crown
if the two sides were prepared to cooperate. Beik has demonstrated Louis
XIV’s willingness to work with local elites, and he argues that although
not a representative body in a consultative sense, the Estates ‘may have
provided a useful compromise between the king, wanting steady funds,
and the provincial rulers wanting a hand in their management’.98 In his
study of the Estates of Brittany, Armand Rebillon also stressed the practical
advantages that the king could derive, arguing that:
it was from practical necessity that the crown found itself forced to have recourse
to their mediation, it was in the shortcomings of its administrative organisation
and the difficulty of confronting directly its subjects in Brittany, to tax and to
impose change, that the Estates found the means to oblige it to count upon
them.99
94 J. R. Major, Representative government in early modern France (London, 1980), and his From renaissance
monarchy to absolute monarchy. French kings, nobles and estates (Baltimore, 1994), are particularly
helpful.
95 Major, Representative government, p. 2. 96 Ibid., p. 177.
97 Major, Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. xxi.
98 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 117–46, esp. 146.
99 A. Rebillon, Les états de Bretagne de 1661 à 1789. Leur organisation, l’évolution de leurs pouvoirs leur
administration financière (Paris, 1932), p. 209.
If anything Collins is even more direct, commenting that the ‘Estates
of Brittany (and those of Languedoc) survived because they were useful to
the king and to the local ruling classes; the Estates that perished served no
serious function’.100 There is no doubt that the surviving estates became
increasingly important to the crown. They were amongst the most remark-
able examples of those corporate institutions able to mobilise their own
credit on the king’s behalf, and Mark Potter and Jean-Laurent Rosenthal
have revealed how in the eighteenth century they developed sophisticated
financial networks.101 Given the monarchy’s almost permanent shortage of
funds, it was unlikely to risk upsetting the apple cart by threatening their
privileges.
The portrait of the provincial estates that emerges from recent scholar-
ship of the seventeenth century reinforces the general revisionist perspective.
Although not representative in a parliamentary sense, the surviving assem-
blies provided a useful forum for bargaining between provincial elites and
the crown. The king’s ability to dispense patronage and maintain clientèles
was essential to the conduct of business, and, ultimately, a mutually benefi-
cial relationship was constructed, with the provinces receiving material in-
ducements and confirmation of existing privileges in return for obedience.
There is, however, a danger that this harmonious vision can be exaggerated,
prompting us to underestimate the extent to which conflict persisted, or
to ignore the almost constant need of the Estates to protect their prerog-
atives. One of the aims of this study is to ascertain the precise nature of
the relationship between the Estates of Burgundy and the monarchy after
1661.
Wider developments in the history of French provincial administration
must also be considered. The eighteenth century has been represented as
the golden age of the administrative monarchy and its enlightened inten-
dants, and we might expect the provincial estates to have withered on the
vine. That was not the case. As Rebillon noted, in his monumental study
of the Estates of Brittany, ‘on the eve of the revolution, the constant
conflict between the Estates of Brittany and the crown swung clearly in
favour of the former. They appeared more powerful and were in any case
richer in [terms of] functions than ever’.102 Russell Major offered a similar
100 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, p. 285.

101 M. Potter and J-L. Rosenthal, ‘Politics and public finance in France; the estates of Burgundy,
1660–1790’, Journal of Interdisciplinary History 27 (1997), 577–612, and their ‘ “The Burgundian
estates” bond market; clienteles and intermediaries, 1660–1790’, in Réseaux et culture du credit du
XVIème au XXème siècle en Europe (Louvain, 1997), 173–95.
102 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, p. 455.
hypothesis, suggesting that under Louis XV ‘the surviving provincial estates
regained their former brilliance and resumed responsibility for a large part
of provincial administration’.103
That argument has been strengthened substantially by the recent publi-
cation of a major study of the provincial estates of Artois, Cambrésis and
Flanders by Marie-Laure Legay.104 She rejects the traditional interpretation,
exemplified by Rebillon, of an ongoing struggle between the provincial es-
tates and the crown, and makes the important point that in the course of
the eighteenth century their role was redefined. Rather than resisting the
forces of centralisation, the Estates became part of the mechanism through
which the crown extended its power, gradually accumulating new powers
and jurisdiction to the detriment of an increasingly marginalised inten-
dant. For a cash-strapped monarchy, such a policy had the dual advantage
of transferring the financial burden to the province, while appearing to
respond to calls for a more decentralised government. The authority of the
Estates was clearly reinforced, but at a cost. By taking an ever more active
administrative role, they undermined their traditional claim to act as the
protectors of the province, and ultimately became the target of accusations
of despotism previously directed at the intendants.
Legay’s assumption that the crown was relentlessly pursuing the twin
goals of centralisation and modernisation through the medium of the
provincial estates is, however, questionable. What recent scholarship has
demonstrated is the strong element of pragmatism that lay behind the
policies of the crown as it sought internal peace and ready access to the
taxes and credit necessary for the pursuit of its military and diplomatic
objectives. Legay is, however, right to draw our attention to the fact that
the provincial estates were not hidebound, medieval relics, but vibrant and
dynamic institutions throughout the period after 1661. In Burgundy, the
Estates would prove themselves to be adaptable institutions, capable of
providing a valuable service to the crown, while simultaneously protecting
their own interests and those of local elites. As they did so, the Estates devel-
oped increasingly sophisticated and effective administrative machinery that
could stand comparison with that of the intendants in the pays d’élections.
Far from being in decline during the ‘age of absolutism’, the example of
the Estates of Burgundy suggests that representative institutions had lost
neither their importance nor their vigour.
103 Major, Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. 357.

104 M-L. Legay, Les états provinciaux dans la construction de l’état moderne (Geneva, 2001).
The aim of this study is, therefore, to examine the construction of a con-
sensus between the crown and the Estates of Burgundy, and to chart the
subsequent course of that relationship in the century preceding the revo-
lution of 1789. In doing so, it will break new ground by revealing both the
continuities and the changes that affected the French state and political
system during a crucial period in its history. It will also provide the first
detailed analysis of the Estates themselves, by discussing their organisa-
tion, membership and activities. Such a study enables us to pose questions
about the possession and exercise of power, the influence of patronage and
clientage, the relationships between rival corps within the province and
the attitude of public opinion. As we shall see, during the eventful period
from 1661 to 1789, the authority of the Estates waxed and waned, but there
is no doubt that they proved resilient and effective when confronted by
the challenges posed by the Bourbon monarchy. Indeed, by the reign of
Louis XVI the confidence of the Estates and its administration had never
been higher. Yet any celebrations were likely to be premature, because the
desire to protect their privileges and to extend their powers had not been
accompanied by an attempt to forge a meaningful relationship with the
people they purported to serve.
chapter 2
Ancien régime Burgundy
Today the very name Burgundy conjures up a rich tapestry of images, from
the chivalric splendour of the courts of the Valois dukes to the wines and
gastronomic delicacies that embody the bucolic charm of provincial life.
Nostalgia for a lost golden age is always best treated carefully, but a grain of
truth does lurk behind this rosy picture. At its height in the mid-fifteenth
century, the Burgundian state stretched from the foot of the Alps to the
North Sea in a broad arc encompassing the duchy and comté of Burgundy,
part of Lorraine, Luxembourg, Flanders and the Low Countries. Rich from
the taxes and subsidies provided by the prosperous towns of the north, the
Valois dukes raised courtly life to new heights, dazzling contemporaries
with the magnificence of their artistic patronage. Yet the life of this new
state was as brief as it was brilliant, coming to an end in a muddy field on a
cold January day in 1477, with the death in battle of the last duke Charles
le Téméraire. His great rival, Louis XI, struck quickly, wresting the duchy
from the fallen duke’s heir, his daughter Marie, whose subsequent marriage
to Maximilian of Austria ensured that her other possessions became part of
the bountiful patrimony of the House of Habsburg. Their grandson, the
emperor Charles V, ruled the most extensive empire that the world had yet
seen, and in 1525 his troops shattered the army of Francis I at Pavia, taking
the French king and his sons prisoner in the process. The key condition of
their release was the restitution of the duchy, and for an instant it seemed as
if that goal had been achieved. Once safely back in Paris, however, Francis
I reneged upon his agreement, leaving the emperor vainly protesting his
rights as duke of Burgundy. As late as 1630, there were reports of rioting
crowds crying ‘long live the emperor’,1 but these exceptional, possibly apoc-
ryphal, events could not disguise the fact that the province was definitively
French.
1 J. R. Major, Representative government in early modern France (New Haven, 1980), p. 538.
26
Ancien régime Burgundy 27
Despite having given its name to such an illustrious state, the Burgundy
of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was of comparatively modest
dimensions. The duchy proper consisted of the twelve bailliages of
Arnay-le-Duc, Avallon, Autun, Auxois, Beaune, Chalon-sur-Saône, Dijon,
Montagne (Châtillon-sur-Seine), Montcenis, Nuits-Saint-Georges, Saint-
Jean-de-Losne and Saulieu. They in turn formed part of a much larger
entity, the généralité of Dijon, to which was added the comtés of Auxonne,
Auxerre, Bar-Sur-Seine, Charolles and Mâcon, plus the so-called pays-
adjacents, namely Bresse, Bugey, Valromey and Gex.2 As an administrative
unit, the généralité made much sense, as it included the area under the
jurisdiction of the intendant, coincided with the boundaries of the military
gouvernement, and was used by royal officials as the basis for their calcula-
tions when apportioning the financial burden. Clear lines on a map cannot,
however, convey the far more complex reality on the ground, and for many
contemporaries Burgundy was synonymous not with the généralité, but
with the territories administered by, or under the tutelage of, the Estates
General of the province. That meant the duchy and the comtés, not the pays-
adjacents, and for reasons that should become apparent this study shares
their bias.
It was from the continued existence of the Estates that Burgundy enjoyed
its privileged status as a pays d’états, placing it alongside only a handful of
other great provinces, such as Artois, Brittany and Languedoc, which had
preserved a measure of self-government. The Estates claimed with some
justification to be at the apex of the Burgundian institutional hierarchy.
Jostling by their side was the Parlement of Dijon, which, despite being cre-
ated by Louis XI in 1476, claimed a rather more distinguished pedigree.3 If
the Parlement was prepared to challenge the pre-eminence of the Estates, it
in turn had to struggle against the pretensions of the Chambre des Comptes
of Dijon, whose attested history could be traced back to the middle of
the fourteenth century.4 The Chambre was a close contemporary of the
Estates and, as we shall see, their members shared common interests arising
from the institutional and administrative structure of the province. Like
the Estates, the jurisdiction of the Parlement did not include the whole of
the généralité and was instead limited to the duchy and the pays adjacents.
The comtés of Auxerre, Bar-sur-Seine and Mâcon escaped its cognisance
and were subject to the Parlement and the Cour des Aides of Paris. These
2 Dombes joined the list of pays-adjacents in 1781. 3 See chapter 9.
4 C. Courtépée and E. Béguillet, Description générale et particulière du duché de Bourgogne, 3rd edn.,
4 vols. (Paris, 1967–8), i, pp. 379–81.
jurisdictional quirks were a familiar feature of the period, with the
Mâconnais providing the most remarkable example. Legally it formed part
of the jurisdiction of the Parisian courts, while in administrative terms it
had its own états particuliers, making it a pays d’états, albeit one that was
simultaneously a pays d’élections due to the presence of the élection of
Mâcon.5 The états particuliers, and those of the other comtés, sent deputies
to the assemblies of the Estates General in Dijon, and, predictably enough,
friction between them was endemic. The trend over the course of the period
after 1661 was for the Estates and administration in Dijon to gain the ascen-
dancy, with the états particuliers of Bar-sur-Seine, Auxerre and Charolles
being absorbed by their larger cousin. By 1789, only the Mâconnais had
preserved its own Estates and a degree of administrative independence.6
t h e p rov i n c e
Burgundy lies some 150 kilometres south-east of Paris, and by crossing its
territory a traveller makes the transition from the north to the south of
France, leaving behind the plains of Champagne and the Ile-de-France for
Lyon and the Rhône valley, the gateway to Provence. At the beginning
of Louis XIV’s personal rule, it was very much a frontier province, and
neighbouring Franche-Comté remained under Spanish Habsburg rule as
a seemingly permanent legacy of the past. As for the pays-adjacents, they
skirted Franche-Comté and formed part of the border with the Swiss Con-
federation. To the west lay the provinces of the Orléanais, Nivernais and
Bourbonnais, which, if not inhabited by the subjects of a foreign king, were
scarcely more familiar, given the logistical difficulties of travelling contrary
to the prevailing north-south axis.
Diversity was very much the hallmark of the Burgundian landscape. To
the north of Dijon was the pays de la montagne, the popular name for the
bailliage and region around Châtillon-sur-Seine.7 Although not possessed
of any great peaks, more than two-thirds of the bailliage was situated above
400 metres of altitude, forming part of the cold, arid ‘Langres plateau’.
5 J. Roussot, Un comté adjacent à la Bourgogne aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles. Le Mâconnais pays d’état et
d’élection (Mâcon, 1937), p. 19–20, 87–110.
6 The administration of the Mâconnais is not examined directly in this study, and the work of Roussot,
Un comté adjacent, should be consulted.
7 Contemporary descriptions include that of the intendant Ferrand presented in D. Ligou, ed.,
L’intendance de Bourgogne à la fin du XVIIe siècle. Édition critique du mémoire pour l’instruction
du duc de Bourgogne (Paris, 1988), pp. 379–94, and Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale de
Bourgogne, iv, pp. 195–7. The work of Pierre de Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne du nord au
dernier siècle de l’ancien regime (Paris, 1960), pp. 9–14, is also invaluable.
Heavily wooded and with a poor stony soil ill-suited to cultivation, the
montagne was a hard taskmaster for those who sought to scrape a living from
its cultivation. As for the river Seine, whose source was to be found between
Chanceaux and Billy, while not navigable it did at least provide more fertile
soils along the valleys where it passed. By contrast, the Dijonnais presented a
far more hospitable prospect. To the east of the city lay the valley of the river
Saône, the ‘Nile of Burgundy’ which entered the province near Talmay,8
and flowed down to Mâcon before leaving it for Lyon and its junction with
the Rhône. It would be difficult to exaggerate the importance of the river
to the economic life of the province. Navigable from the town of Gray
in Franche-Comté, it provided one of the chief commercial arteries of the
kingdom permitting the rapid transport of grain, wine, iron and other
goods. Taxation of commerce on the river was also an essential element of
the fiscal relationship between Burgundy and the crown.9
Many of the more important towns nestled along the river’s banks, no-
tably Auxonne, a vital frontier town due to its proximity to Dole and
Besançon. Even after the conquest of Franche-Comté, Auxonne maintained
its military tradition, and by the mid-eighteenth century it was home to a
major military garrison and a school of artillery, whose list of alumni boasts
the name of Napoléon Bonaparte. Martial inspiration, if it was needed, was
close to hand. Just down river was the town of Saint-Jean-de-Losne, whose
citizens had, in 1636, heroically resisted the Habsburg army commanded by
Gallas, providing one of the most glorious footnotes in the annals of French
arms. Other notable communities bordering the Saône included Seurre and
Verdun-sur-le-Doubs, but the most significant were the cathedral cities of
Chalon-sur-Saône and Mâcon. Merchants whose trade contributed to local
prosperity inhabited all of these urban centres, but it was the plain that was
the real source of wealth. As the intendant, Antoine François Ferrand, ex-
plained in his memoir for the duc de Bourgogne, written at the end of
the seventeenth century, it was ‘a very fertile plain, producing a variety of
grains in abundance’.10 In most years, these fields yielded a surplus that
made Burgundy a key supplier of grain to the hungry metropolis of Lyon.11
The Dijonnais was doubly blessed in the sense that within sight of the
gates of the capital city rose the heights of the Côte de Bourgogne, running
thereafter in a gentle arc behind the towns of Nuits-Saint-Georges and
Beaune before descending through the Chalonnais past Givry and on to
8 The reference to the Nile is cited by B. Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne au XVIIIe siècle (Dijon, 1996),
p. 180.
9 See chapters 6 and 10. 10 Ligou, ed., L’intendance de Bourgogne, p. 193.
11 W. G. Monahan, Year of sorrows. The great famine of 1709 in Lyon (Columbus, 1993), pp. 6, 24.
Mâcon and beyond. The slopes of the Côte were already dotted with the
names of villages such as Gevrey, Volnay and Meursault whose famous wines
attracted an international clientèle. From their summit it was possible to
survey the plain of the Saône below, and beyond that the mountains of
the Jura, and, on a clear day, the Alps. Yet despite being able to observe
these distant peaks, the inhabitants of Beaune, and many of the villages
of the Côte, insisted that where the vines stopped the ‘montagne’ began.
This was not the result of any perverse local logic, but recognition of
the fact that the arrières côtes shared the geological characteristics of the
Châtillonnais.12 Thus from Saint-Seine in the north down to the town of
Nolay the same inhospitable combination of forests and poor soil made life
precarious for the local inhabitants.
The south-eastern corner of the province, namely the Autunois, the
Charolais and the Brionnais presented a rather different spectacle. Autun
itself was flanked to the west by the Morvan, whose rude climate, granite
hills and dense forests spawned the jibe that it was a pays from whence came
‘neither good winds, nor good people’.13 Ferrand was not much impressed
by the surrounding area, describing the land as ‘very dry and ungrateful’.14
He was, however, forced to admit that the Autunois possessed ‘excellent
pasture which fed and fattened a good head of cattle which provides the
principal wealth of the inhabitants’, and the same could be said with even
greater emphasis of the Charolais and the Brionnais.15 Finally, the bailliage
of Semur-en-Auxois and the comté of Auxerre formed the north-east of the
province. As a whole, the Auxois presented a happy prospect for the farmer,
and one local historian has claimed that it was ‘for cereals what the Côte is
for the vine’.16 The inhabitants of the Auxerrois, on the other hand, took
advantage of their own favourably positioned slopes to produce their highly
prized wines in abundance.
t h e bu rg u n d i a n pe ople
According to the last intendant of Burgundy, Amelot de Chaillou, the
généralité of Dijon boasted a population of 1,106,217 inhabitants in 1786.17
12 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 12–15.

13 As the Morvan was for fifty years the fief of that slippery political chameleon, François Mitterrand,
it is possible that the insult is of more recent vintage. Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale
de Bourgogne, iv, p. 109, wrote of ‘the wild and little known lands of the Morvan’.
14 Ligou, ed., L’intendance de Bourgogne, p. 255. 15 Ibid., p. 256.
16 Quoted in R. Robin, La société française en 1789: Semur-en-Auxois (Paris, 1970), p. 95–6. The situation
was not always so rosy as Robin makes clear, ibid., pp. 91–100.
17 C. Lamarre, ‘La population de la Bourgogne à la fin du XVIIIe siècle à travers le dénombrement
Amelot (1786)’, Annales de Bourgogne 55 (1983), 65–99.
Such a degree of precision in a notoriously difficult science immediately
raises suspicions, but recent historians have accepted his figure as a de-
cent best estimate given the documents at their disposal.18 A total of just
over one million Burgundians in 1789 undoubtedly represented an in-
crease when compared to the dark days of the previous century. Until the
definitive conquest of Franche-Comté in 1678, the province had suffered
grievously at the hands of Habsburg armies and supposedly friendly French
troops, and the scourge of war had been accompanied by its companions in
arms, famine and pestilence. As a result, the population grew only very
slowly, and actually fell temporarily after the harrowing famines of 1660–1,
1693–4 and 1709–14.
In its general outlines, Burgundy’s demographic history was consistent
with that of the kingdom as a whole, although it is possible that population
growth in the eighteenth century was slightly less vigorous than elsewhere.19
What is beyond doubt is that the province was typical of ancien régime
France in that its population was overwhelmingly rural, with four out of
five Burgundians living in the countryside. The capital Dijon was a city
of great historical and architectural importance, well endowed with royal
courts, great churches and public buildings. It was, however, a legal and
administrative, rather than a commercial, centre, and its population rose
slowly from perhaps 20,000 to 25,000 during the course of the century
preceding the revolution.20 This placed Dijon very much in the second rank
when compared with larger and more dynamic eighteenth-century cities
such as Bordeaux, Marseille or Nantes. Four of the other leading towns of
the province, Autun, Auxerre, Chalon-sur-Saône and Mâcon were seats of
bishoprics with populations estimated at between 8,000–10,000, a figure
matched by Beaune.21 Other mercantile or administrative centres such as
Avallon, Auxonne, Châtillon-sur-Seine, Saulieu and Semur-en-Auxois had
in the region of 3,500–5,000 souls, and below them came a much larger
group of small towns and bourgs whose population was often only just in
four figures. Even with what is to modern eyes a very generous definition of
urban, the overwhelming majority of the population was still best qualified
as rural.
18 Ibid., 65–8, 99.

19 At least that is the impression conveyed by local experts, see: Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 21–64;
Lamarre, ‘La population de la Bourgogne’, 65–72, 93–8; and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne,
pp. 525–7, 605.
20 Much ink has been spilt attempting to find an acceptable estimate, see: G. Bouchard, ‘Dijon au
XVIIIe siècle. Les dénombrements d’habitants’, Annales de Bourgogne 25 (1953), 30–65, and Lamarre,
‘La population de la Bourgogne’, 86–98.
21 The definitive study of the small towns of Burgundy is C. Lamarre, Petites villes et fait urbain en
France au XVIIIe siècle. Le cas bourguignon (Dijon, 1993), esp. pp. 120–42.
Attempting to provide an accurate social profile of the French population
is notoriously difficult, and the members of the nobility in Burgundy were
no exception. At their head were a number of great aristocratic families such
as the Damas, Lux, Saulx-Tavanes, Thianges and Vienne who had left, or
were in the process of leaving, the province in favour of the bright lights
of Paris and Versailles.22 They retained their lands in Burgundy and could
be expected to attend the provincial Estates, but were, in effect, absentees,
with increasingly weak ties to the region and its social and cultural life.
The extent of the exodus should not, however, be exaggerated. Nearly 250
families were able to provide proofs of their right to attend the Estates in
1679, and, as serving members of the robe were deliberately excluded, it
reveals the existence of a substantial group of noble families, many of whom
were undoubtedly of old sword stock, that was still living in Burgundy.
Dijon was home to the Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and a variety
of other legal bodies, and it has been estimated that no less than two-fifths
of its inhabitants were officeholders of one form or another.23 Some of
the most prestigious families such as the Berbisey, Bouhier, Fyot, Gagne,
Legouz, Macheco and Julien had been ennobled in the sixteenth century, or
earlier, and had intermarried both amongst themselves and with the older
sword nobility.24 A steady stream of newcomers, who had ploughed the
well-worn furrow of ancien régime social ascension, making money from
commerce, finance or other ventures before purchasing ennobling office,
had joined them. Their growing ascendancy in Dijon was mirrored in the
surrounding countryside, where they purchased their own landed estates
and built the châteaux needed to add a seigneurial lustre to their new coats
of arms. Not surprisingly, by the end of the ancien régime members of many
of the same families were represented in both the provincial Estates and the
great law courts of Dijon.25 These powerful and wealthy clans dominated
the city, providing employment both professionally, for those who worked
in or around the law courts, and domestically, by maintaining an army
of household servants. If we are relatively well informed about the noble
elites, comparatively little is known about the ordinary gentlemen of the
22 R. Forster, The house of Saulx-Tavanes. Versailles and Burgundy, 1700–1830 (Baltimore, 1971), offers a
classic example of a widely accepted thesis; see, amongst others, H. Drouot and J. Calmette, Histoire
de Bourgogne (Paris, 1941), pp. 298–300; G. Roupnel, La ville et la campagne au XVIIe siècle. Étude sur
les populations du pays dijonnais (Paris, 1922), pp. 197–8; and J. B. Collins, The state in early modern
France (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 135–40.
23 For a more comprehensive discussion of the number of privileged in Dijon, see Bouchard, ‘Dijon
au XVIIIe siècle’.
24 A. Colombet, Les parlementaires bourguignons à la fin du XVIIIe siècle (Dijon, 1937), pp. 41–112,
provides a helpful, if now rather dated, introduction to the local parlementaires.
25 See chapter 3.
countryside, who possessed neither an office, nor a fief. The second estate in
Burgundy was not as numerous as its Breton counterpart, but there is some
evidence that a substantial body of hobereaux did exist, living in genteel
obscurity and often poverty.26
As we might expect, the relatively small size of the Burgundian towns
meant that the bourgeoisie was of a very traditional nature, headed by non-
noble officeholders, lawyers and members of the liberal professions.27 To
these should be added merchants in those towns connected to the wine
trade, or to the commerce of the Saône. The absence of any substan-
tial industrial or manufacturing base limited the size of the middle class
and ensured that artisanal crafts and trades had a traditional flavour with,
amongst others, butchers, bakers, carpenters, cobblers, masons and tailors
forming a relatively prosperous social group. The work of James Farr has
brought the world of the artisans of Dijon to life, illustrating the codes of
honour and the social and professional strategies that bound them together
in the century before 1650, and there is every reason to believe that the
patterns he identified continued well into the eighteenth century.28 Much
less is known about the ordinary wage labourers who formed the majority
of the urban population, many of whom lived in poverty with the con-
stant threat that unemployment, ill health or old age would render them
destitute.
As elsewhere in early modern Europe, life for the vast majority of
Burgundians, if not always ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’,29 was
precarious. Most were constantly preoccupied with finding their daily bread
and the money needed to keep themselves clothed, housed and out of the
clutches of the tax collectors. The size of the problem can be gauged by
the fact that in Semur-en-Auxois at the end of the ancien régime at least
6 per cent of the population were classed as living in ‘indigence’, so poor that
they were not considered worth assessing for tax.30 In the provincial cap-
ital, the situation was far worse, with somewhere between a fifth and a
quarter of the population receiving official assistance of one form or
another.31 For those left without family or official aid the future was bleak,
and despite the efforts of the puritanically minded ecclesiastical and civil
authorities crime and prostitution could not be driven from the streets.32
26 See chapter 3. They are the subject of a forthcoming University of London doctoral thesis by Sue
Carr, ‘Gentilshommes simplement: the lesser nobility of Burgundy, 1688–1789’.
27 Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, and Lamarre, Petites villes, are the essential guides.
28 J. R. Farr, Hands of honor. Artisans and their world in Dijon, 1550–1650 (London, 1988).
29 T. Hobbes, Leviathan, ed. C. B. Macpherson (London, 1968), p. 186.
30 Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, p. 220. 31 Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 132–6.
32 J. R. Farr, Authority and sexuality in early modern Burgundy, 1550–1730 (Oxford, 1995), pp. 124–55.
In the countryside, the social structure had its own distinctive features.
The Burgundian nobility was increasingly urban, and while most of the
wealthier members of the second order could boast a country seat their
presence, other than at crucial moments such as the harvest, was far from
guaranteed. If examples can be found of families maintaining close contact
with the tenants on their estates out of either a spirit of noblesse oblige,
or Christian paternalism, good grounds remain for believing that the ties
of mutual respect and dependence that bound nobles to peasants were
dissolving rapidly. Burgundy, along with Brittany and Franche-Comté, was
one of the regions where the weight of seigneurialism was particularly heavy,
with serfdom (mainmorte) common in the western half of the province and
the Bresse Chalonnaise.33
It has also been suggested that the province supplies some of the most
compelling evidence for the existence of a seigneurial reaction in the second
half of the eighteenth century. There can be no doubt that many landlords
were determined to squeeze every penny out of their seigneurie, and the
proliferation of legal experts skilled in the exploitation of their terriers
helped them to achieve that end before a Parlement staffed by men who
shared the same social and economic interests.34 Whether or not there
was anything new about this process must remain open to doubt, and
Saint Jacob found similar evidence from the final years of the reign of
Louis XIV.35 What seems undeniable, however, is that the peasants increas-
ingly resented paying dues that were not only demeaning, but also offered
them next to nothing in return.
As the presence and authority of the rural seigneurs declined, there was
no bourgeoisie, in the sense of officeholders or liberal professions, to take
their place. Any bourgeois tempted to live in the countryside were as likely
to be scared off by the fiscal threat of contrainte solidaire, which made the
wealthier inhabitants liable for the unpaid taxes of the community,36 as
by the boorishness of their neighbours. In the absence of the seigneur it
33 For a discussion of the problem, see: J. Bart, La liberté ou la terre (Dijon, 1985); J. B. Collins,
Classes, estates, and order in early modern Brittany (Cambridge, 1994), p. 22; Robin, Semur-en-Auxois,
pp. 141–3; H. Root, Peasants and king in Burgundy. Agrarian foundations of French absolutism (London,
1987), pp. 155–204; and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 50–74, 405–34.
34 Forster, The house of Saulx-Tavanes, pp. 92–103, provides a very pertinent example. The attitude of
the Parlement to lawsuits brought by landlords, or their peasant antagonists is discussed by Root,
Peasants and king, pp. 156–8, 166, 169, 176–83.
35 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 205–6, 249, 434, 570. W. Doyle’s, ‘Was there an
aristocratic reaction in pre-revolutionary France?’, Past and Present 57 (1972), 97–122 is a splendid
critique of the argument that the seigneurial reaction was unique to the late eighteenth century.
36 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 531–5. We could also add other disincentives such as the
corvée, militia, billeting of troops and other charges to which the rural population was subject.
was the village curé who headed the list of notables, being usually the son
of more substantial peasant proprietors, the laboureurs and fermiers, who
formed what Saint Jacob described as a rural bourgeoisie.37 These fami-
lies had the good fortune to own, or to be able to lease, sufficient land,
livestock and agricultural equipment, above all ploughs, to farm indepen-
dently. They produced a surplus that enabled them to prosper from the
demand for Burgundian grain, and their profits made them the employers,
and often creditors, of their humbler neighbours. These coqs de village were
understandably few in number, and it was the larger group of fermiers,
whose limited landholdings forced them to rent land from nobles, ecclesi-
astical institutions or the urban bourgeoisie, who, together with the village
artisans, headed by the blacksmith, formed the middling classes of village
life. They were the ones who were expected to carry much of the fiscal
burden, and it has been argued that in the course of the eighteenth century,
a combination of taxation and demographic and inflationary pressures was
making their situation increasingly precarious.38
What the fermiers feared was falling back into the ranks of the rural poor,
who made up the overwhelming majority of the population. Most sought
to eke out a living as manouvriers or journaliers (day labourers), the crucial
distinction being that the former owned, or leased, a little land, albeit not
enough to support a family. As we might expect, work was seasonal and
often in short supply, and a man in the prime of life would be lucky to earn
an annual wage of 150 livres from his labours.39 Here were the principal
victims of the wars and economic stagnation of the seventeenth century,
and their position improved little thereafter as they were exposed to the
new scourges of land shortage and price inflation, which marked the final
decades of the ancien régime. For some, especially the young, flight to
the towns was the obvious solution, but it was not enough to prevent an
alarming increase in poverty and vagrancy which was a source of growing
concern for both royal and provincial administrators after 1750.
t h e e co n o m y
Historians are in general agreement that the second half of the seven-
teenth century was a period of economic hardship, even decline, as an over-
whelmingly agricultural economy reeled under the effects of harsh climatic
37 Ibid., pp. 531–5.
38 Ibid., pp. 530, 536–9. The artisans were less affected by these factors and their position may have
been improving.
39 It might well be less, Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 112–13.
conditions and almost constant warfare.40 Although at odds about the
precise timing, they also agree that the more clement natural and interna-
tional climate of the eighteenth century stimulated a general recovery as
the kingdom entered a prolonged period of growth that would not begin to
falter until the reign of Louis XVI. There were, however, immense regional
variations. On the Atlantic coast, Bordeaux and Nantes became great boom
towns, profiting from the rich rewards to be gained from the slave trade
and commerce in sugar, coffee and other exotic goods. Other notable suc-
cess stories included Rouen, the cotton capital of France, Marseille, which
grew rich on the Mediterranean trade, and the north-eastern provinces of
Flanders and Hainaut, where there were signs of proto-industrialisation
comparable to that across the Channel. Finally, the rapid growth of Paris
had transformed the agricultural economy of its hinterland as ever larger
and more productive farms sought to satisfy the seemingly insatiable de-
mand for grain. Yet the dynamism of certain sections of the economy
contrasted sharply with the far more lethargic state of those regions cut off
from the benefits of proximity to a large city, access to the sea or some other
means of contact to markets. Here there was no economic boom and life
continued much as before.
At first sight, landlocked Burgundy appeared to have few economic
trump cards. Dijon was a bustling provincial capital, but one where the
chatter of lawyers was more audible than the clatter of machinery, or the
humming of looms. While the work of the law courts and the provincial
administration was the source of employment, at no point did the city act
as a significant motor for the local economy. Nor was there any strong
demographic growth to provide an expanding market. There was little in
the way of manufacturing or textile production, and over the course of the
eighteenth century the woollen industry was gradually declining, and new
enterprises such as L’Isle of Dijon, which became the principal producer
of cotton, were rare. Nor were the other urban centres much different,
although Verdun-sur-le-Doubs was a major centre for the manufacture of
tiles, covering not only the buildings of Burgundy, but also those of Lyon
and the Rhône Valley.41 Yet if Dijon was no match for Bordeaux or Rouen,
it does not necessarily mean that the province was relegated to the status
of an economic backwater.
40 Amongst recent important contributions to the burgeoning literature on the French economy of
the ancien régime are P. T. Hoffman, Growth in a traditional society: the French countryside, 1450–1815
(Princeton, 1996), and L. Vardi, The land and the loom: peasants and profit in Northern France,
1680–1800 (Durham, NC, 1993).
41 Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 172–3.
In fact, Burgundy was one of France’s most important producers of iron,
and in 1772 it was estimated that, together with Champagne, the province
supplied more than half of the kingdom’s output.42 Growth continued
throughout the century, and one of the most dramatic consequences was a
vertiginous rise in the price of wood needed to fire the furnaces. For the large,
generally noble, landowners, whose estates included most of the provincial
forests, it was a welcome windfall, albeit one with dire repercussions for
the poor who depended upon cheap firewood for cooking and heating. It
is important to remember that iron production was usually carried out in
small-scale forges, not modern factories, using traditional artisanal meth-
ods. After 1750, however, there was a real interest in the new techniques
being pioneered by the British, with the great naturalist, Georges-Louis
Leclerc de Buffon, establishing his ‘great forge’ near Montbard. Even more
spectacular was the development of a new industrial complex at Le Creusot
where, aided by the legendary English engineer, Wilkinson, the power of
coal, mined locally, iron and steam were brought together with remarkable
results.
Despite these developments, the Burgundian economy remained over-
whelmingly agrarian and its commerce was tied to the marketing of the
grain, wine, livestock and other goods produced by the people of the coun-
tryside. Agriculture was slow to recover from the crisis of the early eighteenth
century, with vines destroyed by the terrible winter of 1709, and cattle per-
ishing from an epidemic in 1713–14. Saint Jacob believed that real recovery
did not begin until the late 1720s, and it proved to be far more intermittent
than the broad picture of a prosperous eighteenth century might lead us
to expect. According to his analysis, the mid-century wars led to renewed
agricultural crisis, and, if the period from 1762 to the War of American
Independence was favourable, the last decade of the ancien régime was little
short of calamitous.43 Not that the balance sheet was entirely negative.
Attempts to introduce new crops, such as maize, potatoes and turnips were
partially successful, and, after 1760, a local movement for agrarian reform
inspired, in part, by the ideas of the physiocrats became a real force in both
the Parlement of Dijon and the Estates.44 On the larger farms of the plain,
or on the estates of wealthy agronomes, it was possible to find examples of
what contemporaries deemed good practice.
However, in the final analysis, Burgundy did not experience an agricul-
tural revolution. As Arthur Young traversed the province from Auxonne to
42 Forster, The house of Saulx-Tavanes, pp. 70–1, and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, p. 222.
43 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 235–6, 292–9, 353–5, 561–5.
44 Root, Peasants and king, pp. 105–54, and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 347–434.
Autun in the summer of 1789, he peppered his journal with sharp observa-
tions such as ‘agriculture quite contemptible’ and ‘villainously cultivated’,45
declaring that ‘if I had a large tract in this country, I think I should not
be long in making a fortune’. Yet if he was correct in identifying the po-
tential fertility of the region, the solution was not quite as straightforward
as he imagined. As Arnoult, one of the Burgundian representatives in the
Constituent Assembly, declared when discussing the failure of agricultural
reform:
Oh you who complain of the intractability of the peasant when he refuses to

adopt your new ploughs, your new seed drills . . . your deep furrows, your doses
of fertiliser that are four times greater than what he can afford, before tripling his
expenses in the uncertain hope of a tripled harvest, begin by putting him in a state
of being able to buy clogs for his children.46
Not that everything in Burgundian agriculture was quite as sombre as Young

and Arnoult would have us believe. In the course of the eighteenth century,
the farmers of the Autunois, Charolais and Brionnais would become highly
specialised in the production of beef cattle, which, once fattened on the lush
local pastures, were marched off to urban markets, especially those of Paris.
Other areas of specialisation can be cited, including the crops of onions
harvested around the town of Auxonne, the prized cheeses of Époisses,
that the abbé Courtépée boasted were superior to those of Brie,47 and the
wool of the Auxois. Yet these paled into insignificance when compared to
the importance of viticulture. The province had enjoyed a reputation for
producing fine wines since at least the middle ages, and as transport im-
proved and the urban markets of France and northern Europe expanded
the demand for Burgundy soared. In response to these commercial possi-
bilities, a new class of wine merchants (négociants) sprang up in Beaune,
Chalon-sur-Saône and Dijon.48 Despite the renown of the wines produced
by the villages of the Côte, it was still common for vignerons to practise
polyculture with animals, fruit trees and vegetable plots, all to be found on
the illustrious slopes. As the eighteenth century progressed, such practices
were declining, and the abbé Courtépée could claim, without fear of em-
barrassment, that the vines ‘cultivated like gardens produce these excellent
45 A. Young, Travels in France during the years 1787, 1788 and 1789 ed. C. Maxwell (Cambridge, 1929),
pp. 200–1.
46 Quoted in Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, p. 404.
47 Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale de Bourgogne, i, p. 303.
48 T. Brennan, Burgundy and champagne. The wine trade in early modern France (London, 1997),
pp. 111–40.
wines that are so sought after by foreigners’.49 Viticulture was not, however,
restricted to the Côte, or other distinguished regions such as the Auxerrois,
and the peasants of the arrières côtes of Beaune or Nuits-Saint-Georges, as
well as those of the plain, were engaged in various forms of polyculture
with the vine playing an ever more significant part. Although we should
not forget that life for the vignerons was hard and that vines were vulnerable
to frost, hail and disease, sometimes producing too much and other times
not enough, it is still reasonable to conclude that viticulture contributed
substantially to the province’s economic well-being.
c u lt u re a n d l i fe s t y le
Whether dazzled by the mirrors of Versailles, or intimidated by the ar-
rogance of Parisians, both contemporaries and many later historians con-
vinced themselves that cultural life in the provinces was no more than a pale
imitation of the court and the capital.50 It is true that many Burgundian
luminaries, such as Louis XIV’s favourite cleric, bishop Bossuet, the com-
poser, Rameau, and the poets and playwrights, Crébillon and Piron, left
the province to seek their fortune. Even so, it is clear that like many other
provincial cities Dijon possessed a lively intellectual and cultural life of its
own. For much of the period, it was the robe nobility, headed by men such
as the presidents Jean Bouhier, Charles de Brosses and Benigne Legouz de
Gerland that set the tone. Through their patronage and active participa-
tion the robe elites were responsible for the establishment of Dijon’s public
library, its botanical gardens, several masonic lodges and the Academy, ren-
dered immortal by its presentation of a first literary prize to Jean-Jacques
Rousseau. At a less exalted level, the city and indeed the province as a
whole shared in the improvement in literacy that was such a feature of the
period. Cafés and libraries became an established part of local life, where
the public could read the local affiches, discuss the latest quarrel involving
the Parlement and the Estates and consider the affairs of the day.
Local pride expressed through the medium of the Estates and the close
patronage of successive princes of the House of Bourbon-Condé was of
immense significance. Together they embarked on an expensive and highly
impressive programme of beautification not only for the Palais des États,
but also for the city as a whole. The political influence of the Estates was
decisive in the foundation of the University of Dijon, whose legal faculty
49 Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale de Bourgogne, ii, p. 78.
50 For a comprehensive discussion of the arguments for and against, see: M. Bouchard, De l’humanisme
à l’encyclopédie. L’esprit public en Bourgogne sous l’ancien régime (Paris, 1930).
had earned a national reputation by the reign of Louis XVI, and in the
provision of public education through the agency of the Academy.51 Not
surprisingly, the city became a firm favourite with foreign tourists, and the
English in particular were captivated by its charms. After his visit in 1739,
Thomas Gray wished that he had not ‘lingered so long at Rheims’, while the
author of The Gentleman’s Guide, published in 1770, declared that Dijon’s
‘inhabitants shew [sic] an hospitality and generosity, that I met not with in
any other part of France’.52 If Dijon was to the fore in developing a thriving
civic culture, the smaller provincial towns were not far behind. Money
and effort were spent on an impressive range of activities, including the
construction of town halls, the improvement of lighting and public health,
and the provision of pavements, parks, monuments and promenades, all of
which helped to improve the quality of life for the population as a whole.53
Finally, opportunities for relaxation of a more traditional nature were not
neglected. In the towns, and especially Dijon, the local authorities organised
civic celebrations to mark great events such as the birth of a dauphin, a
military victory, or the publication of a peace with fireworks, music, food
and wine for the inhabitants. For rural dwellers, on the other hand, village
Saints’ days and the harvest celebrations were amongst the high points of
the calendar, and they were marked by festivals, processions, and, in all
but the most difficult times, a substantial meal. If these were exceptional
events, the constant lamentations of the clergy suggest that taverns and
cabarets everywhere did a brisk trade.
Such broad-brush strokes can only convey an impressionistic portrait of
Burgundian life in the last century-and-a-half of the ancien régime. As we
might expect, Burgundy shared many of the demographic, economic and
cultural patterns of the kingdom as a whole, and its institutional structure
resembles that of the other great pays d’états with which it is frequently
compared. Yet on closer inspection it becomes clear that the province had
its own unique character, an originality that was wholly consistent with
the essentially diverse nature of ancien régime society. Through a detailed
examination of the Estates General of Burgundy, this study offers further
proof of the complex and heterogeneous nature of provincial life in the age
of absolute monarchy.
51 See chapter 11.

52 B. Chevignard, ‘Thomas Jefferson et Dijon: une rencontre manquée’, in M. Baridon and
B. Chevignard, eds., Voyage et tourisme en Bourgogne à l’époque de Jefferson (Dijon, 1988), pp. 23, 38.
53 Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 497–590.
chapter 3
The Estates General of Burgundy
According to the sixteenth-century antiquarian, Pierre de Saint-Julien, the

Estates General of Burgundy had originated with the Gauls as a meeting
of druids, soldiers and plebeians.1 The three estates of his own time were
allegedly descended from these distant ancestors, but, however fanciful his
theories, it is true that the precise origins of the institution are obscure.
The first authenticated meetings of an assembly of clergy, nobility and
third estate took place during the reign of Philippe le Hardi in the mid-
fourteenth century.2 Thereafter they gradually settled into a pattern of
regular meetings called to vote the taxes required to fund the ambitious
political and cultural policies of the Valois dukes. When catastrophe struck
at the battle of Nancy on 5 January 1477, with the death of Charles le
Téméraire, the last of the line, Louis XI seized the duchy of Burgundy. In
an effort to win the affection of his reluctant new subjects, the French king
recognised their rights and privileges, including the principle that no tax
could be levied in the province without the consent of the Estates. Here was
the basis of what would become known as the Burgundian constitution,
and the Estates would remain central to the relationship between the crown
and the province until 1789.
It is true that during the troubled years of the Wars of Religion the
province followed its governor, Charles de Lorraine, duc de Mayenne, and
was a bastion of the Catholic league.3 Yet when Henri IV finally defeated
him, Burgundy’s privileges were respected and the Estates continued to
meet. A far greater threat was posed by the centralising ambitions of Louis
XIII’s government, which imposed the dreaded system of élections in 1629,
endangering the very existence of the Estates and the ‘constitution’ of 1477.4
1 Major, Representative government, pp. 185–7.

2 J. Billioud, Les états de Bourgogne aux XIV et XVe siècles (Dijon, 1922), pp. 7–14.
3 H. Drouot, Mayenne et la Bourgogne, 2 vols. (Paris, 1937), remains the classic study of the period.
4 A definitive explanation of this important episode has so far proved elusive, see: Bonney, The king’s
debts, pp. 115–58; Major, Representative government, pp. 535–85.
41
Popular riots inspired, in part, by hostility to these measures erupted in
Dijon in February 1630, bringing down the wrath of the king, who person-
ally visited the city to mete out punishment and confirm the new political
and administrative structure.5 Burgundy was saved from being permanently
reduced to a pays d’élections by a combination of factors including the dis-
grace of Marillac, after the day of dupes in November 1730, and the death
of the surintendant of finances, d’Effiat, two years later.6 Despite his au-
thoritarian reputation, the cardinal de Richelieu, who now assumed full
control of government, was prepared to strike a deal with the Estates. In
return for a substantial payment of some 1,600,000 livres, the élections were
abolished.7 The crisis of 1629–31 was the most serious ever faced by the
Estates, and if the civil wars of the Fronde brought political chaos for the
elites and great hardship for the people they did not threaten the province’s
institutional structure.8
As elsewhere in France, the personal reign of Louis XIV ushered in a
period of financially demanding, but politically conservative rule. The sun
king summoned the Estates at regular three-year intervals, only breaching
that convention in 1679 when an assembly was called a year earlier than
expected. The deputies raised a storm of protest, claiming that they enjoyed
the privilege of triennial assemblies.9 At first sight, it might seem odd that
they should want to restrict the number of their gatherings in this fashion.
However, at each Estates the deputies were expected to vote a don gratuit,
and frequently other financial subsidies as well, and by meeting less often
they presumably hoped to keep the fiscal burden down. If that was their
intention they would be disappointed, and by the eighteenth century the
long period between assemblies would become a serious obstacle to reform.
From 1679 until the French revolution the Estates were convoked every
three years, assembling thirty-six times, usually for no more than two or
three weeks. Composed of representatives of the three orders of the duchy
and the deputies from the comtés of Bar-sur-Seine, Charolles and Mâcon,
the Estates were great occasions, bringing together an important section
of the local elite to discuss the demands of the crown and to examine the
conduct of the provincial administration.
5 The causes of the riots have been analysed by W. Beik, Urban protest in seventeenth-century France.
The culture of retribution (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 126–33, and Farr, Hands of honour, pp. 201–10.
6 Bonney, The king’s debts, pp. 115–58, and Major, Representative government, pp. 535–85.
7 Drouot and Calmette, Histoire de la Bourgogne, p. 256.
8 For a discussion of the fronde in Burgundy see: H. Gronau-Chenillet, ‘Le jeu des clientèles au
parlement de Bourgogne sous la fronde: la rivalité entre les familles Bouchu et Brulart’, Annales de
Bourgogne 65 (1993), pp. 5–24.
9 ADCO C 3049, fol. 53. In Brittany, the Estates had also petitioned the king not to assemble the
Estates for two years in both 1649 and 1651, Collins, Classes, estates and order, p. 207.
The Estates General of Burgundy 43
t h e g ove r n o r
Other than in exceptional circumstances, the assemblies were held under
the direct gaze of the governor. Once the Grand Condé had made his peace
with Louis XIV in 1660, he was restored to the governorship of Burgundy,
and his family would hold the office almost as an apanage until the revo-
lution (see appendix 1). It has generally been assumed that the governors
became increasingly marginal figures during the reign of Louis XIV.10 The
works of Béguin, Natcheson and Smith have shown that in Burgundy
such a model is unconvincing, and it is impossible to provide an accu-
rate portrait of provincial life without constant reference to the role of the
governor.11 Close study of the Estates reinforces their findings for the reign of
Louis XIV, and suggests that, after suffering a severe setback following the
death of the duc de Bourbon in 1740, the Condé had succeeded in recap-
turing much lost ground by the eve of the revolution.
Although absent from Burgundy for all but a few weeks every three years,
successive governors perfected the art of ruling from a distance, and their
patronage was frequently decisive in appointing the officers of the Estates.
The Condé maintained their own agents and intendants in Burgundy, who
were charged with reporting on all aspects of provincial life, collecting
‘news, statistics, information about local issues and personalities’, while
conveying the governor’s orders to individuals and institutions.12 From
1660 to 1713, the Thésut family held the post of intendant in Burgundy
for the Condé, which subsequently passed to their relatives, the Chartraire.
The correspondence and paperwork generated by these officials was relayed
to Chantilly, where it was examined by a bureau for Burgundian affairs,
which provided the co-ordination and institutional continuity for Condéan
rule in the province. Moreover, if the governor was only rarely in Dijon,
the provincial elites were frequently in Paris, or at court to pursue their
personal or corporate business. Whenever they made such a journey, the
paying of compliments to the governor was almost obligatory, permitting
yet another channel for communication with the province.13
The Condé thus possessed a complex and effective machine for the
gathering of information and the distribution of orders that in some ways
mirrored that of the crown. Throughout the period after 1660, the gov-
ernor’s influence on the Estates was profound, and whenever a matter of
10 It is true that in other provinces governorships changed hands regularly, and few could match the
control of the Condé in Burgundy.
11 See: Béguin, Les princes de Condé; Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’; and R. E. Smith, ‘A provin-
cial administration under the Bourbon monarchy: the government of Burgundy in the eighteenth
century’, unpub. Ph.D. thesis (Ann Arbor University, 1975).
12 Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’, 277–81. 13 Ibid., 273, n. 23.
importance confronted them their first reflex was to contact the master of
Chantilly. It is not an exaggeration to state that nothing of import escaped
the governor’s attention, not only because of the vigilance of the Condéan
network, but also on account of a genuine belief that he could be counted
upon to protect the interests of the Estates.
They were wise to put their trust in ‘their prince’, and for more than a
century the Condé and the Estates of Burgundy enjoyed a mutually ben-
eficial relationship. For the province to have a prince of the blood almost
constantly available to defend its interests brought many tangible rewards
within a political system that was dependent, in part, upon access to the
king and a handful of ministers at Versailles. For the governor, on the other
hand, the benefits took a variety of forms. In the eyes of an aristocratic war-
rior and frondeur such as Louis II de Bourbon, the Grand Condé (1621–86),
Burgundy was first and foremost a power base, where his patronage could
secure the supplies of men and money needed to fuel his ambitions.14 Even
after 1660, it is unlikely that he changed an outlook forged at a time when
a prince of the blood could draw his sword against a hated first minister
with relative impunity. Changes in military technology, combined with the
political acumen of Louis XIV, were rapidly making such behaviour redun-
dant, and, in 1670, the Grand Condé arranged for the transfer of his gov-
ernorship to his son, Henri-Jules de Bourbon, duc d’Enghien (1643–1709).
Henri-Jules had a burning ambition to imitate the martial triumphs of his
father, and at the first whiff of grapeshot he immediately displayed almost
suicidal courage. Unfortunately, despite winning fame and fortune for his
technical skills as an inventor, his lack of judgement made him almost as big
a threat to his own troops as to his enemies, and his military career ended
in disappointment.15 Henri-Jules would find some consolation in his role
as governor, a calling in which he had few equals. He spent hours every
day poring over the affairs of the province,16 and built up the network of
clients inherited from his father. From the 1690s onwards, he was assisted
by his own son, Louis III de Bourbon (1668–1710), who shared his passion
for Burgundian affairs.
Father and son died within a few months of each other in 1709–10, and
it was left to Louis III’s young heir, Louis-Henri de Bourbon (1692–1740),
to carry on the family tradition. A prominent beneficiary of John Law’s
14 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 23–145, provides an important reassessment of the Condéan clientèle
during the Fronde.
15 P. de Piépape, Histoire des princes de Condé au XVIIIe siècle. Les trois premiers descendants du Grand
Condé, 2 vols. (Paris, 1911–13), i, pp. 13–14, 18.
16 Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’, 297.
infamous bank, and a short-lived first minister of Louis XV, the duc de
Bourbon attracted the scorn of contemporaries and of most subsequent
historians.17 Deprived of any hope of playing a role on the national stage,
the duke sought compensation in his gouvernement, where he matched the
conscientious attitude of Henri-Jules. Bourbon’s death in 1740 left the
Estates defenceless. His son, Louis-Joseph, the new prince de Condé
(1738–1818) was a babe-in-arms, and during his minority the governor-
ship was exercised by the duc de Saint-Aignan. Here was the very model of
an absentee governor, a figure so marginal to the life of the Estates that the
élus did no more than maintain the contacts demanded by social etiquette.18
Great was the relief in 1754 when Saint-Aignan stepped down to allow
the prince de Condé to assume his inheritance, and from then until the
revolution he served as governor. During the Seven Years War, he demon-
strated immense bravery and flashes of the military talents of his illustrious
ancestor.19 Yet despite winning his laurels as commander at the battle of
Johannisberg in 1762, there would be no Rocroi,20 and the last governor
of Burgundy never fulfilled his martial ambitions. Nor did he ever match
the close political control of the province achieved by his father, or Henri-
Jules. Nevertheless, the experience gained during some thirty-five years as
governor meant that little escaped his attention, and he was more firmly
in control of the Estates and its administration in 1787 than had been the
case in 1754.
This brief examination of the governors reveals a common theme of
frustration born of the failure to establish a national military or political
career, which undoubtedly ensured that extra time and effort was devoted
to Burgundy. Material interest was undoubtedly another important factor,
and the Condé benefited substantially from the pensions, gifts and financial
system of the Estates.21 Yet the Condé were motivated by more than just
personal gain, and time and time again they revealed a genuine commitment
to their role. Indeed, at times, the impression that they were the repository
of the memories and traditions of the Estates is inescapable. The ability
to provide patronage in the form of offices, titles and pensions reinforced
17 Campbell, Power and politics, pp. 69–109, offers by far the most objective assessment of his ministry.
18 The voluminous registers containing the correspondence of the élus makes this clear, ADCO,
C 3354, fols. 55–160, and C 3360–61.
19 Piépape, Princes de Condé, ii, pp. 38–51.
20 The great battle won by the Grand Condé over the Spanish in 1643 which established his military
reputation.
21 The work of Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 246–53, 323–8, is the essential guide, but D. Roche,
‘Aperçus sur le fortune et les revenus des princes de Condé à l’aube du 18e siècle’, Revue d’Histoire
Moderne et Contemporaine 14 (1967), pp. 217–43, should also be consulted.
the prestige of the governors, and no opportunity to exercise those rights
was spurned. Nothing of significance could be decided without reference
to Chantilly, and even the king’s ministers were obliged to tread carefully
when dealing with the head of the House of Bourbon-Condé.
t h e i n t e n d a nt
If the governor’s interest in the activities of the Estates can legitimately be
described as helpful and benign, the position of the provincial intendant was
more ambiguous. As the intendant was appointed by the crown to oversee
its interests in the généralité of Dijon, and to carry out important financial,
administrative and legal duties it is often assumed that he controlled the
provincial government. Benoı̂t Garnot has recently described the intendant
as ‘all-powerful’,22 while Hilton Root has made the remarkable claim that
‘there is also evidence that the crown’s authority was strongest in Burgundy.
At the end of the old regime, Burgundy had thirty-four subdelegates more
than any other province’.23 In reality, the intendants were severely restricted
in their scope for action, and it is not true to say that ‘the intendant of Dijon
could usually rely upon the Estates to do his bidding’.24 Instead, it was the
permanent commission of the Estates, known as the chamber of élus, that
dominated the financial and administrative life of the duchy, and only in
the pays adjacents was the intendant king. Moreover, as he was expected to
assist the governor at the meetings of the Estates and in other aspects of his
gouvernement it was necessary for him to tread warily.
Defining the precise duties of the intendant and the boundaries between
his authority and that of the élus is difficult. On many issues, such as
military affairs or public order, they worked closely together. In terms of
taxation, the élus were dominant within the duchy and comtés and only
rarely did the intendant intervene in their affairs. His own authority was
limited to Bresse and the pays adjacents. The intendant and his subdel-
egates were, however, central to the life of the towns and villages of the
province. In October 1662, the intendant was charged with the verification
of communal debts and in February 1665 he was authorised to oversee their
liquidation.25 Thereafter the intendant became established as the guardian
22 Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 67–71.

23 Root, Peasants and king, p. 13. To be fair to Root, elsewhere he is much more sceptical about the
power of the intendant.
24 As P. M. Jones, Reform and revolution in France. The politics of transition, 1774–1791 (Cambridge,
1995), p. 36, has claimed.
25 Root, Peasants and king, p. 36.
of village life, and, as one informed observer noted, ‘the administration of
communal goods and business is attributed directly to the intendant; it
is he who authorises and sanctions all acts that are collective in nature’.26
The intendant was, therefore, a powerful figure and both Saint Jacob and
Root have supplied numerous examples of his interaction with the towns
and villages of the province. Indeed, as opposition to Burgundy’s harsh
seigneurial regime mounted during the second half of the eighteenth cen-
tury, successive intendants regularly sided with the peasants.
The intendant also played an important role in all matters affecting hos-
pitals and public health as well as supervising the actions of the corporations
of arts et metiers. Needless to say, he was also expected to act as the eyes and
ears of the king in the province, supplying information about the conduct
of institutions and individuals, the state of the harvest, population levels
and much else. Yet if it is important to recognise the significance of the in-
tendant, it is still apparent that when compared with the élus of the Estates
he was a secondary power in the administrative sphere. Although over the
long period covered by this study, their relative powers waxed and waned,
with the intendant especially powerful during the 1650s and again during
the interregnum of 1740–54, it was the élus who usually predominated.
During the early years of Louis XIV’s personal rule, the intendant was
Claude Bouchu, a member of a prominent local family, whose father had
served as first president of the Parlement of Dijon thanks to the patronage
of the Condé (see appendix 2).27 Until his death in 1683, Bouchu proved
a model intendant, remaining on excellent terms with the governor, while
busying himself with his work in the Bresse, and, especially, with overseeing
the financial administration of the towns and villages of the province.28
Henri-Jules explained the nature of his relationship with the intendant in
a letter to his trusted adviser, the secrétaire des états Claude Rigoley, written
just after Bouchu’s death. He wrote that:
when I was in Dijon I signed everything together with M. Bouchu, when I was
absent he did not inform me of an endless number of minor cases that he decided
between Pierre and Jean . . . but he always informed me before issuing ordinances
on matters of importance or [those] which might affect the mayors and échevins.29
26 Ibid., pp. 42–3. As Root notes ‘most of the powers exercised by the Burgundian intendant before
the revolution can be traced to the campaign to verify debts’.
27 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, p. 404, and Kettering, Patrons and brokers, p. 114. His career is
examined in greater detail by C. Arbassier, L’absolutisme en Bourgogne. L’intendant Bouchu et son
action financière, d’après sa correspondance inédite, 1667–1671 (Paris, 1921).
28 Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, pp. 119–49, 154–73, and Root, Peasants and king, pp. 22–44.
29 BMD MS 2239, fol. 90, Henri-Jules de Bourbon to Rigoley, 16 July 1683.
Although the governor was not directly responsible for the choice of
Bouchu’s successor, Nicolas Auguste de Harlay de Bonneuil, the gover-
nor had every reason to believe that harmony would be maintained, he
added: ‘M. d’Harlay has tried hard to assure me of his desire to act in a
fashion that will give me cause to be content, and so I have reason to be
happy with this.’ The governor, therefore, ordered Rigoley to do all in his
power to assist the new intendant on his arrival in Dijon.30
D’Harlay’s brief spell in the province was a resounding success, under-
lining the benefits of co-operation. He was replaced by Florent d’Argouges,
whose disastrous period as intendant was an object lesson in how not to
approach the task in a pays d’états.31 He almost immediately antagonised the
governor’s own intendant, Charles-Bénigne Thésut de Ragy, beginning a
feud that would continue until 1694 when d’Argouges was recalled. Thésut
was a powerful enemy, but he was not the only person responsible for the in-
tendant’s disgrace. D’Argouges made the mistake of behaving as if he really
was the all-powerful figure of popular legend, crossing, amongst others, the
élus, the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon, the avocat général of the Parlement and
the bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône. Despite protesting loudly and repeatedly
to his relative the contrôleur général, Louis Phélypeaux de Pontchartrain,
about the ‘conspiracy’ against him, his fall was all but inevitable. He paid
the price of forgetting the first maxim of a successful intendant in a pays
d’états – cooperation.
The lesson was not wasted on his successors, who were generally suffi-
ciently astute to realise that good relations with Chantilly were an essential
requirement if they wished to be allowed to pursue their own affairs in
peace. From the perspective of the Estates, the relative weakness of the in-
tendant was a blessing. Although he was expected to pay close attention to
the activities of the élus and to report regularly to Versailles, the intendant
was never able to win control of the local administration. Any attempt to
do so risked raising a clamour at the next meeting of the Estates, and, pos-
sibly, of attracting the displeasure of their protector in Chantilly. It was no
coincidence that the periods during which the intendants were most pow-
erful were during the exile of the Grand Condé and later the interregnum
caused by the death of the duc de Bourbon.32
30 Ibid ., fol. 94, Henri-Jules de Bourbon to Rigoley, 27 July 1683.
31 His problems have been discussed by R. Bonney, ‘Les intendants de Louis XIII: agents de la réforme
fiscale?’, L’administration des finances sous l’ancien régime. Colloque tenu à Bercy les 22 et 23 février 1996
(Paris, 1997), 197–217, esp. 202–3, and Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’, 289–95.
32 Kettering, Patrons and brokers, pp. 91, 114, has demonstrated that while the Grand Condé was in
Spanish service, the intendant, Bouchu was able to fill the vacuum. What Kettering fails to note is
that this ascendancy was only temporary. The events following the death of the duc de Bourbon are
examined in chapter 8.
In general, however, the relationship between the Estates and the inten-
dant was harmonious, with both sides anxious to avoid trespassing on the
others prerogatives.33 When Antoine Jean Amelot de Chaillou, intendant
from 1764 to 1774, departed from Dijon he received a glowing testimonial
from the élus who declared that ‘the administration will never forget, sir,
the attachment and confidence that you have shown it at all times, the
eagerness with which you have agreed with all its projects, the harmony
that you established between your operations and its own’.34 The chamber
was under no obligation to write such a letter, and the warmth of their
affection for Amelot appears to have been exceptional.35
Even by the reign of Louis XVI, the intendant and his thirty-four sub-
delegates were in no position to overawe the Estates. In 1781, Feydeau de
Brou, who currently held the royal commission, found himself homeless
when the bishop of Dijon decided to live in the intendance. The unfortu-
nate Feydeau was obliged to pester the élus to provide him with lodgings.36
That the Estates should be asked to subsidise the construction of a new
intendance to the tune of some 200,000 livres was hardly surprising, as
they were already paying for Feydeau’s salary, bureau and staff.37 Whereas
intendants elsewhere were able to siphon off the ‘free funds’ (revenants
bons) of the capitation, or other royal taxes, to fund their schemes,38 the
intendant of Burgundy was largely dependent upon the goodwill of the
Estates. When Antoine-Léon Amelot de Chaillou, the last intendant of the
province, sought further financial assistance to meet the costs of his bureau,
the élus sent a firm letter of objection to the contrôleur général, reminding
him that the principal work of ‘the intendance resides in the province of
Bresse, Bugey, Valromey et Gex’.39 Only there was his administrative bur-
den heavy, and as that was nothing to do with the Estates of Burgundy
they saw no reason to contribute to its costs. When Amelot then attempted
to persuade the élus to pay ‘to his subdelegates and their clerks fees’ com-
mensurate to their zeal and importance he received another rebuff.40 He
was informed that the Estates had their own officers, the mayors, who were
33 Particularly good examples of this mutual respect are to be found in the correspondence of the
chamber with the intendant, Amelot, and his officials, ADCO C 3363, fols. 195–6, Amelot to the
élus, 25 November 1773, and their reply dated 4 December 1773, and C 3364, fol. 228, secrétaire des
états, Rousselot, to d’Armenault, secretary to the intendant, 6 August 1780.
34 ADCO C 3363, fol. 240, the élus to Amelot, 8 December 1774.
35 I have found no evidence of similar letters being sent to the other intendants.
36 ADCO C 3364, fol. 275, 288–9, Feydeau de Brou to the élus, 31 May 1781 and 8 August 1781.
37 Root, Peasants and king, p. 77, and ADCO C 3366, fol. 122, the élus to Calonne, 16 December 1784,
and ibid., fol. 139, Calonne to the élus, 10 January 1785.
38 Kwass, Privilege and politics, pp. 54–7.
39 ADCO C 3366, fols. 122–4, the élus to Calonne, 18 November 1784.
40 ADCO C 3367, fol. 92, Amelot to the élus, 11 September 1787.
expected to perform demanding and onerous tasks without remuneration.41
The intendant was, therefore, obliged to work alongside the Estates, and
the portrait that emerges from any close study of the Burgundian adminis-
trative structure during the period is one of collaboration, even teamwork,
between two distinct, but mutually respectful institutions. Of the legendary
‘all powerful’ intendant we have yet to catch a glimpse.
t h e m i n i s t ry
For the Estates, coping with the existence of an intendant was part of the
broader problem of dealing with the crown. The élus were continually in
contact or correspondence with the dominant figures in the ministry, es-
pecially the contrôleur général and the secretary of state for the maison du
roi, whose department traditionally included responsibility for Burgundy.
As we might expect, the enormous expansion of the contrôleur général’s
administrative remit after 1665 meant that the élus were almost constantly
bargaining about financial, economic and commercial matters. The sec-
retary of state, on the other hand, acquired additional stature after 1740,
when the crown took advantage of the duc de Bourbon’s death to trim
the power of the Condé.42 The holder of the office in 1740 was the comte
de Saint-Florentin, a man who has generally been dismissed as an author-
itarian nonentity, despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that he served
continuously from 1721 until his retirement in 1775. He certainly took a far
more active role in provincial affairs after 1740, assuming many of the duties
previously performed by the governor. Once the prince de Condé came of
age, it was not immediately apparent where authority lay. Rather than ask
too many awkward questions the élus corresponded with both the governor
and the secretary of state on all matters affecting the administration. Almost
identical letters were sent to both men, containing information, explaining
problems and asking for aid and support. If power had shifted towards the
minister, it is unlikely that he took many decisions without reference to the
prince, who was determined to make his own contribution and to assume
the traditional role of mediator between the Estates and the crown.
After Saint-Florentin’s resignation no other secretary of state remained
long in office, and the governor’s prestige and his impressive knowledge
of the local situation meant that his authority increased. He was helped
by the fact that the reign of Louis XVI was auspicious for the provincial
administration generally. From 1775 to 1783, the secretary of state for the
41 ADCO C 3358, fol. 104, the élus to Amelot, 7 October 1787. 42 See chapter 8.
maison du roi was that old friend of the chamber of élus, Amelot de Chaillou,
whose son was in turn intendant after 1784. Another former intendant of
the province, Jean-François Joly de Fleury was contrôleur général between
1781 and 1783, a post which had been held briefly in 1776 by a former
member of the Parlement of Dijon, Jean-Étienne Bernard de Clugny de
Nuits. Charles Gravier, comte de Vergennes, Louis XVI’s trusted minister
of foreign affairs, was another prominent Burgundian, while the bishop of
Autun, Yves Alexandre de Marbeuf, élu of the clergy from 1778–81, held
the powerful office of the feuille des bénéfices. Relations between the Estates
and the crown were, as ever, dominated by the king’s need for loans and
taxation, but when defending provincial interests the élus were in a strong
position.
p re pa r at i o n o f t h e e s tat e s
The decision to summon the Estates was taken by the king in consultation
with the governor, and the opening ceremony was always scheduled well in
advance, usually between the months of April and November.43 The period
leading up to the assembly was spent in detailed preparation, with the most
important part of the procedure involving the drafting of the governor’s
instructions. These were the king’s formal demands to be presented to the
Estates, and constituted the principal business of the assembly. By the late
seventeenth century many of these instructions had become permanent
features, including requests for taxes, such as the don gratuit, and demands
for the province to meet the costs of the public highways or to fund the
military étapes. In addition to these regular articles, the instructions could
also contain new demands of a financial or administrative nature.44
When drafting the instructions it was necessary for the ministry to work
closely with both the governor and the provincial intendant in order to
gain the necessary information about the state of the province and the
likely mood of the Estates. Both were continually obliged to remind the
government of earlier precedents, adopting a generally sympathetic stance
towards the privileges of the province. When the contrôleur général, Clément
Charles François de L’Averdy, wanted to include an article demanding a
contribution to the costs of billeting military officers in 1766, the inten-
dant, Amelot, persuaded him to drop the matter.45 He argued that such a
43 Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 6–7.
44 For examples, see AN H1 99, fol. 58, and H1 134, fol. 68, ‘Observations sur quelques articles de
l’instruction pour messieurs les commissaires du roi à l’assemblée des états de Bourgogne’.
45 AN H1 128, dos. 1, fol. 1, Amelot to L’Averdy, 10 June 1766.
request would almost certainly incite trouble because the Estates already
paid an annual sum of 200,000 livres to ensure exemption from quarter-
ing troops. Three years later, the prince de Condé entered into a detailed
correspondence with the duc de Choiseul, about his plans to construct
a port at Versoix on lake Geneva.46 As Versoix was in the pays of Gex it
formed part of the généralité of Dijon, and the minister was hopeful that
the Estates would contribute to the cost of his project. Condé was quick
to disabuse him. In a long memoir he explained that Gex and the other
pays adjacents were not subject to the administration of the Estates, nor
was Geneva especially important to local commerce, which was connected
instead to the river Saône. He concluded with the observation that ‘it is
hard to suggest to the assembly [that] it contribute to an untested enterprise
which does not appear to be useful to it’.47 Choiseul had the good grace
to concede the issue and looked elsewhere for his funds, but the exchange
was typical. Successive governors acted as the protectors of the Estates and
their privileges, while engaging in what was generally an amicable and pro-
ductive dialogue with the ministry. The crown could only gain from the
presence of a knowledgeable and active governor who could prevent it from
antagonising the Estates through ignorance of the local situation.
By spending so much time on the detailed preparation of the instruc-
tions, the prince de Condé, like his predecessors, ensured that he was well
equipped to cope with the demands of the assembly. Not surprisingly in
these circumstances, the king was willing to allow his representative consid-
erable latitude in his dealings with the Estates. However, he frequently took
the precaution of providing the governor with secret personal instructions
to be employed in the event of resistance to royal demands.48 In 1763 and
1778, for example, rumours of impending trouble within the assemblies of
the Estates inspired the ministry to equip the prince de Condé with metic-
ulous plans designed to curb the expected unrest.49 It was a tribute to the
skills of the governor that he was not obliged to resort to these extraordinary
measures on either occasion.
The drafting of his instructions was not the only task requiring the
governor’s attention. Orders had to be given for Dijon and the Palais des
46 AN H1 174, dos 2, fols. 47–8, ‘Copie du mémoire de M. le prince de Condé envoyé à M. le duc de
Choiseul le 28 Novembre 1769 sur les difficultés de proposer aux états de Bourgogne, de concourir
à l’établissement de Versoix’.
47 Ibid .
48 In 1763, Condé was provided with an elaborate set of secret instructions. These are discussed in a series
of letters written by the prince’s former secretary, Girard, to the premier commis of the contrôleur
général, AN H1 127, dos. 2, fols, 31, 58, Girard to Menard de Conichard, 23 October 1763 and
5 November 1763.
49 These events are discussed in chapters 8 and 9.
États to be cleaned and lit, and for the city to be adequately provisioned,
especially in periods of dearth when an influx of deputies threatened to
consume supplies and inflate prices. During the subsistence crisis of 1775,
the prince de Condé informed the contrôleur général, Anne Robert Jacques
Turgot, that ‘we would have to reproach ourselves, you and I, if for want
of the necessary precautions . . . the markets of Dijon were not sufficiently
provisioned, above all during the holding of the Estates’.50 With the opening
ceremony planned for May his concern was understandable, but he failed
to shake the laissez-faire principles of the minister. Within days of the
governor’s warning Dijon was wracked by what was arguably its most serious
riot since 1630.51
Most of the remaining organisation of the Estates was of a more mundane
character. Letters of convocation were sent to the senior clerics, religious
institutions, and nobles who were eligible to attend, or send deputies, to
the assembly. As the chamber of the third estate consisted overwhelmingly
of the mayors of those towns with the right of representation in the Estates,
it was necessary to fill any vacancies with suitably qualified candidates.
Letters were also sent to the seven alcades, who had been appointed by
the previous Estates, ordering them to assemble in order to scrutinise the
conduct of the administration and prepare their remarques.52 Finally, efforts
were made to resolve any outstanding disputes involving the Estates or its
administration that might disturb the tranquillity of the meeting. For the
particularly punctilious governor, Henri-Jules, that could extend to the
dress code of the deputies. Having taken the trouble to design the splendid
new purple robes of the third estate, he was annoyed to hear that many of
the towns had refused to meet the costs of their manufacture.53 His response
was emphatic. Any deputy who failed to fulfil the sartorial requirements
of his office would be refused entry because, as the prince made clear,
‘I believe . . . that having built a hall where the Estates can meet honourably,
those present should be clothed in a manner appropriate to the dignity of
the Estates’. His conscientious attitude was typical. When the time came
for the governor to pack his bags for the journey to Burgundy very little
had been left to chance.
50 AN K 569, fol. 30, Condé to Turgot, 14 April 1775.

51 The riots of April 1775 were caused by the high price of grain, and have been examined by G. Dumay,
Une emeute à Dijon en 1775 suivie d’une ode à monseigneur d’Apchon (Dijon, 1886), and J. Richard,
‘L’assassinat de FilsJean de Sainte-Colombe et les élections d’Avril 1790 en Côte-d‘Or’, Annales de
Bourgogne 61 (1989), 115–39. C. A. Bouton, The flour war. Gender, class, and community in late ancien
régime French society (Pennsylvania, 1993), provides a thorough discussion of the crisis of 1775 as a
whole.
52 Their role is examined in detail below.
53 ADCO C 3148, fols. 361–2, Condé to the élus, 4 June 1703.
t h e o pe n i n g c e re m on y
The voyage of the Condé to Dijon had all the dignity of a royal progress.
In 1718, for example, the duc de Bourbon was accompanied not only by
the majority of his household, but also by many of its effects including
his own ‘crockery’ and provisions.54 There is no record of his having taken
the kitchen sink, but the size and logistical complexity of his retinue was
typical. As the governor travelled south, he accepted the homage of major
towns such as Auxerre and Montbard, and sampled the hospitality of the
local bishops, or other dignitaries. Protocol dictated that as the governor
approached Dijon, he was formally welcomed at Chanceaux, just outside
the city, by the vicomte-mayeur and the échevins of the town, who were
waiting patiently under the shelter of a canopy.55 From there his carriage
formed part of a triumphal procession covering the eight kilometres to
Dijon, where his entrance was greeted by the firing of the cannons of the
château. To the sound of trumpets, he progressed through streets lined by
some 3,000 armed townsmen, who fell in behind the guards escorting his
carriage as it completed its journey to the Palais des États.
According to the official account of 1754, the prince de Condé was met
on his arrival in his apartments by ‘several persons of distinction’, and he
had no more than an hour to relax before receiving the first of a series of
customary deputations.56 At the head of the queue were the élus, who had
been summoned together with the leading officers of the Estates.57 They
were escorted into the prince’s cabinet where the bishop of Dijon, acting élu
of the clergy, offered a few words of welcome. The deputation then trooped
out and was replaced by the seven alcades of the Estates, who delivered their
own greetings before, in turn, giving way to the échevins of Dijon, whose
compliments were accompanied by a traditional gift of wine.58 Much of
the next day was taken up with the reception of further deputations from,
among others, the Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and Bureau des Finances
of Dijon. That evening the city was illuminated ‘with exquisite taste . . . and,
at intervals, there were pyramids of lanterns surrounded by garlands creating
a marvellous effect, there were also fountains of wine and at both ends of
the Place [Royal] stood amphitheatres to position the drums and oboes [so]
that the people could dance’.59
54 Dumont, Une session des états, p. 154.
55 Ibid , pp. 15–16, describes the etiquette from the Estates of 1718, and little had changed when the
prince de Condé arrived for the first time in 1754, ADCO C 3021, fols. 399–456.
56 ADCO C 3021, fol. 399. For a comparison, see Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 15–22.
57 ADCO C 3021, fols. 399–400. 58 Dumont, Une session des états, p. 16.
59 G. Dumay, ed., Le mercure Dijonnois ou journal des événements qui se sont passés de 1742 à 1789 (Dijon,
1887), p. 72.
The opening ceremony of the Estates took place on the second morning
after the governor’s arrival. At 10 a.m. the bishops of Autun and Chalon-
sur-Saône marched off side-by-side from the Palais des États with the other
clerics following in their wake to the Sainte Chapelle. The third estate,
headed by the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon followed them. Finally, the prince
left his suite, with the local commandant, intendant and first president,
preceded by the maréchaussée, his guards and pages and the members of the
chamber of nobility who attended the governor throughout his stay in the
city.60 Once inside the Sainte Chapelle, Mass was celebrated by its dean,
Grosbois, the official chaplain of the Estates. Having paid its respects to
the Almighty, the assembly was now free to march the short distance to
the great hall of the Palais des États where the king’s business could begin
(see plate 1).
Within the great hall, the governor sat in an armchair decorated with
the fleur de lys and the arms of the province, which occupied a slightly
raised position on a dais adorned with a portrait of the king. He was
flanked by the provincial commandant, the intendant, the first president
of the Parlement and two trésoriers de France. The deputies of the Estates
filled the main body of the hall, with the senior clerics and the élu of the
nobility seated in armchairs and the other deputies of the two privileged
orders facing each other on benches richly decorated with tapestries. The
members of the third estate had their own benches that were placed at
the back of the hall. As for the officers of the Estates, they sat behind
their bureaux in an area known as the parquet. The scene was completed
by the presence of members of the public who peered down from the
gallery.61
Once the assembled throng was seated, the prince signalled for the cere-
mony to begin, a ritual that was described succinctly by the abbé Courtépée
during the reign of Louis XVI:
the senior member of the Bureau des Finances opens the session with a speech
whose purpose is to present the letters of convocation. The governor speaks next
to assure, in a few words, the Estates that he will inform the king of their loyalty and
zeal. The first president’s harangue is concerned specifically with the administration
of justice; that of the intendant explains the king’s intentions and the aid that he
expects [to receive]. Finally, the bishop of Autun delivers a concluding speech
exposing the needs and interests of the people.62
60 ADCO C 3021, fols. 401–3.

61 Ibid., fol. 405.
62 Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale de Bourgogne, i, p. 329. The content of these speeches
was formal and relatively predictable as can be seen by comparing those delivered in 1754, ADCO
3021, fols. 406–8, with the earlier texts of 1677, ADCO C 2982, fols. 11–14.
Plate 1 The grand salle of the Estates of Burgundy
The governor then received yet another deputation, this time of the whole
body of the Estates, and had to endure a further speech from the bishop
before the deputies finally retired to their respective chambers.
The ceremonial described above dates from the late eighteenth century,
but it could, with minor modifications, have been drawn from any of the
meetings held between 1661 and the revolution. The opening ceremony
conveys a sense of the gravity of the occasion and of the immense signif-
icance attached to these assemblies. In a society obsessed by social rank,
precedence and hierarchy, processions and deputations were of the utmost
importance, and they were studied avidly by the different corps and by the
wider public. Moreover, for a provincial city of 20,000–25,000 inhabitants,
the influx of the prince, his retinue and hundreds of deputies, amongst
whom were bishops and great aristocrats, offered a tremendous spectacle
as well as a great opportunity for profit. But, above all, the assembly and
its attendant ritual reinforced the message that the Estates were at the apex
of the social and political life of Burgundy. It was a source of pride for the
self-styled first province of the kingdom, and with ‘our prince’ presiding
over a gathering of the provincial elite in the imposing edifice of the Palais
des États, Burgundians could dream of the halcyon days of their dukes.63
t h e c h a m b e r o f t h e c l e rg y
When the local intendant, Antoine François Ferrand, drafted his ‘Memoir’
for the instruction of the duc de Bourgogne at the end of the seventeenth
century, he provided what he believed were the essential details about the
assembly of the Estates, including lists of those eligible to sit in the various
chambers.64 In his entry for the clergy, he noted that in addition to the
bishops of Autun, Chalon-sur-Saône, Mâcon and Auxerre there were sixty-
six clerics with recognised rights of entry.65 Immediately after the bishops
came eighteen abbés of religious houses, headed by the abbé général of
Cı̂teaux, seven deans and twelve deputies of the cathedral chapters and
principal churches of the province. They were joined by three deputies
from the comtés of Mâcon, Charolles and Bar-sur-Seine, eighteen prieurs
and finally eight deputies chosen by provincial abbeys.
According to Ferrand’s estimates there were at least seventy clerics eligible
to sit in the chamber either on account of their own eminence, or that of the
institutions to which they belonged. Over the course of the eighteenth cen-
tury that number increased slightly, largely on account of the establishment
63 The reference to ‘notre prince’ comes from the correspondence of Alexis Piron, BN MS Fr 10435,
fol. 39, Piron to abbé Du May, 28 August 1754.
64 Ferrand, like the other intendants had been ordered to prepare these reports for the education of
Louis XIV’s young grandson, Ligou, L’intendance de Bourgogne.
65 Ligou, L’intendance de Bourgogne, pp. 180–3. Courtépée and Béguillet, Description générale de Bour-
gogne, i, p. 328, offered a total of 119 for the reign of Louis XVI, an increase explained by a figure
of seventy-two prieurs classed as eligible. If correct, very few clerics were taking advantage of their
rights, possibly because some of the abbeys were held in commendam.
60
50
40
30
20
10
0
82
88
94
00
06
12
18
24
30
36
42
48
54
60
66
72
78
84
16
16
16
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
Figure 3.1 Chamber of the clergy: attendance, 1682–1787
of the bishopric of Dijon in 1731. If we examine the attendance lists of the

clergy for the period 1682 to 1787 (figure 3.1), it is clear that far fewer ac-
tually took advantage of their rights.66 During the later part of the reign
of Louis XIV, from 1682 to 1715, an average of forty-three clerical deputies
attended the Estates, with a high point of fifty in 1712 and only thirty-nine
in 1694.67 An average attendance of forty-five for the reigns of Louis XV
and Louis XVI was hardly more impressive, but it is noteworthy that after
1774 the numbers present never fell below fifty. Only thirty-one deputies
made the trip to Dijon in 1721,68 thirty-nine in 1742,69 thirty-three in 1748
and forty in 1772,70 although the more substantial total of fifty-seven clergy
was present in both 1754 and 1778,71 and no less than fifty-one assembled
in 1775.
Behind these dry statistics a number of interesting patterns emerge.
The peaks and troughs of attendance were connected to the person of the
66 The figures that follow have been compiled from the registers of the décrets of the Estates, ADCO
C 3018–24, and those of the chamber of clergy, ADCO C 3030–5.
67 ADCO C 3018, fols. 120–2, 203–5, 253–5, 312–14, 356–8, and ADCO C 3019, fols. 55, 113–16, 215–17,
299–302, 409, 505, 580–9.
68 ADCO C 3019, fols. 722–4. 69 ADCO C 3021, fols. 150–1.
70 ADCO C 3021, fols. 297–8, and C 3022, fols. 394–5.
71 ADCO C 3021, fols. 451–3, and C 3023, fols. 104–6.
governor, or more accurately to the presence of a member of the House
of Bourbon-Condé. When the Condé were absent because of ill-health,
military service or political disgrace the number of deputies plummeted.72
The trend was particularly apparent during the interregnum of 1740 to
1754 when the duc de Saint-Aignan was governor. Not surprisingly, the tri-
umphal entrance of the young prince de Condé at the Estates of 1754, saw
the numbers present leap to fifty-seven, the highest total of the century. No
doubt a variety of motives account for the attraction of the Condé. Their
patronage made it advisable for all but the most saintly to attend, and the
additional prestige associated with participation in an Estates presided over
by the prince was probably difficult to resist. As we shall see, the magical
name of Condé had an even more dramatic effect on attendance amongst
the nobility, adding further proof, were it needed, of the continuing influ-
ence of the provincial governor.
Within the chamber of the clergy, great authority was invested in the
hands of the bishops, whose office, social status and control of preferment
made them formidable figures. Men such as Nicolas and André Colbert,
successively bishops of Auxerre, Antoine de Malvin de Montazet, bishop
of Autun and grand almoner of Louis XV, or his successor Marbeuf, had
access to levers of power at the very highest level. It was the bishop of Autun
who presided over the chamber, and in his absence the role was filled by one
of his colleagues. Power and hierarchy amongst the clergy were reflected
in the plan of the seating arrangements of the chamber sketched in 1697
(plate 2).73 As we can see, the three bishops present on that occasion sat
in armchairs in front of the bureau together with the two abbés, who were
only entitled to ‘straight backed chairs’. In front of them, starting from
the left, was a semi-circle of deans and deputies from the cathedrals and
collegiate churches, while to the right sat the prieurs réguliers. Finally, the
deputies from the three comtés were seated behind the bishops.
If the bishops possessed immense influence, they were not all-powerful.
The other clerics had ample opportunity to contribute to the deliberations
and votes of the chamber on both internal matters and the business of the
Estates. On assembling after the opening ceremony, their first task was to
conduct the election of a new élu and the other officers who would serve
during the forthcoming triennalité. The vital office of élu rotated from the
72 The duc de Bourbon was unable to attend in 1721 due to illness, while his son was on active military
service in both 1757 and 1760. After opposing the ‘revolution’ of chancellor Maupeou in 1771, the
prince de Condé was temporarily exiled from court and was, therefore, unable to preside at the
Estates of 1772.
73 ADCO C 3029, bis, ‘Plan of the chamber of the clergy 1697’.
Plate 2 Plan of the chamber of clergy at the Estates of Burgundy in 1697
bishops to the abbés and then to the deans, many of whom were substantial
figures in their own right destined to hold some of the highest positions in
the French church. Theoretically it was an open election, but in practice
all had been negotiated in advance because the crown clearly wanted a
reliable and competent figure in such a vital post.74 There was less need
to exercise a tight rein on the appointment of the two clerics who would
serve as alcades, and as these positions were shunned by the great prelates
they were a source of fierce competition amongst their juniors. This was
also true of the orator, chosen to compliment the other chambers on behalf
of the clergy, and the two rapporteurs, who presented information to the
chamber. For an aspiring cleric, these posts presented a golden opportunity
to shine before their ecclesiastical superiors and even the governor.
Once the election of its officers was complete, the chamber was in a
position to deliberate upon the don gratuit and the other articles contained
in the governor’s instructions. These issues would dominate the Estates, but
there were also internal matters to be considered that were specific to the
chamber. Some were permanent features, notably the reading of a report
74 See chapter 4.
by the outgoing élu on the conduct of the provincial administration during
his triennalité.75 However, the vast majority of ecclesiastical energy was
dissipated in a series of quarrels about the respective rights and privileges
of those present.
The problem began at the top, where the bishops failed to set an example
of Christian humility. Successive bishops of Autun were determined to
establish their own pre-eminence not only within the chamber, but also in
the Estates as a whole. It is true that the bishop of Autun presided over his
fellow clerics, and he enjoyed the privilege of speaking in the name of the
Estates at both the opening and closing ceremonies. What caused trouble
was the attempt to claim the rather ambiguous title of ‘president né’ of the
Estates,76 a privilege enjoyed by the archbishop of Narbonne in Languedoc.
Bishop Louis Dony d’Attichy of Autun had first raised the issue at the
Estates of 1656,77 bringing an immediate response from bishop Henri Félix
of Chalon, who employed the spoiling tactic of claiming the same title.78
Dony d’Attichy backed down, declaring that he had been misunderstood
and had only meant to refer to his right to preside over the clergy.79 Félix was
even prepared to attack that privilege in 1679, albeit unsuccessfully, on the
basis that he was the senior bishop having been consecrated first. A fragile
peace was then restored, but in 1703 the newly appointed bishop of Autun,
Bertrand Senaux, renewed the claim to be recognised as the ‘president
né’, and he had sufficient guile to petition the king for an arrêt du conseil
confirming his pretensions without first informing the Estates.80 His ruse
caused uproar at the assembly of 1703, producing an outright refusal to
recognise the arrêt, and a further arrêt du conseil of 27 May 1706 fared no
better.81 The Estates of that year repeated their earlier protest, adding that
there had never been a president of the three orders, and that ‘M. d’Autun
who presides over the clergy collects their votes alone’.82 Even the backing
of the elderly and authoritarian Louis XIV had not been enough to force
the Estates to alter their traditional practices.83
75 Examples of their reports include those presented by Henri Emanuel de Roquette in 1697 and 1715,
ADCO C 3030, fol. 329, and C 3031, fol. 16.
76 Had he won that right, he would, in theory, have presided over the three chambers.
77 ‘Remontrance faite au roy, à Paris le xv mai mdclix par messire Loys d’Attichy, eveque d’Autun,
président né et perpetuel des états de Bourgogne’.
78 BMD MS 840, fols. 71–2, ‘Mémoire concernant la tenue des états de Bourgogne et les séances des
particuliers qui composent lesdits états’, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 68–70.
79 The re-establishment of the status quo was confirmed in an arrêt du conseil of 1659, BMD MS 840,
fol. 71.
80 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 87.
81 ADCO C 3001, fols. 9–10. 82 Ibid., fol. 10.
83 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 87, reached a similar conclusion.
Precedence quarrels were not restricted to the bishops of Autun and
Chalon, and successive incumbents of the sees of Mâcon and Auxerre were
preoccupied with their own feud. As neither wished to recognise the pre-
eminence of the other, the governor, Henri-Jules, came up with an ingenious
solution at the Estates of 1682, permitting them to alternate precedence from
one day to the next.84 Any relief was short-lived. At the assembly of 1694,
the bishop of Autun noted ruefully that neither bishop had entered the
Estates for ten days because of their continuing rivalry.85 It was not until
1697 that the matter was resolved by a treaty negotiated by Henri-Jules,
which stipulated that the bishop and clerics of Auxerre would have ‘rank
and station, each according to their dignity’ after those of the duchy.86 If the
bishop of Mâcon had been defeated, he could at least console himself with
the knowledge that his dominance of the états particuliers of the Mâconnais
was undisputed. Almost inevitably, the foundation of a new bishopric of
Dijon in 1731 triggered a fresh set of precedence disputes. Despite being
a new creation Dijon was, of course, at the heart of the duchy, and thus
prevailed over the former comté, but in 1787 the unhappy Auxerrois were
still protesting at the perceived infringement of their rights.87
The bishops were not the only clerics obsessed with precedence, and the
chamber resounded to the clamour of deans, abbés and prieurs upholding
their own status or that of their corps. Amongst the most belligerent were
successive abbés généraux of Cı̂teaux, who fought a long battle for parity
with the bishops. In 1697, the abbé won a famous victory, forcing the
acceptance by the chamber of an arrêt du conseil entitling him to the same
size, make and shape of armchair as the bishops.88 It was only the beginning.
In 1730, the abbé général, Dom Andoche Pernot, demanded ‘to sit in cape,
rochet and with the [pectoral] cross’ rather than in his ‘habit’.89 Having
registered an initial protest, he attempted to enter the Estates wearing his
clerical hat (bonnet quarré), but was refused. He then turned to the royal
council, obliging the chamber to appoint a commissioner charged with
defending its privileges both at Versailles and before the General Assembly
of the French church.90 The affair rumbled on for years, producing many
comic scenes, not least that of 1748 when the abbé presented himself at
the Estates in full ecclesiastical regalia, only to find the entrance to the
chamber of the clergy blocked while his peers considered his fate.91 The
84 BMD MS 840, fol. 72.

85 AN G7 158, fol. 472, bishop of Autun to Pontchartrain, 28 October 1694.
86 ADCO C 3030, fol. 347. 87 ADCO C 3035, fol. 9. 88 ADCO C 2982, fols. 366–70.
89 ADCO C 3031, fols. 299–300. 90 ADCO C 3030, fol. 403.
91 For an account, see ADCO E 1245, Andre de La Poix to M. de Mignot, 23 May 1748.
unfortunate Pernot was obliged to wait in an antechamber, surrounded by
‘lackeys’, gradually drawing a large crowd that clambered up on to some
adjacent benches in order to catch a glimpse of this unusual martyr. His
suffering would bring its reward, but not in this life. It was his successor,
abbé Francois Trouvé, who entered the chamber in 1751, resplendent in
‘rochet, cape, clerical hat, and pectoral cross’ thanks to an arrêt du conseil
of 29 May 1751.92 Immediately abbé Dubreuil de Pontbriand of Saint Martin
d’Auxerre sprang to his feet to claim the same privilege. The resolution of
one dispute had thus given birth to another, and in 1757 all of the abbés
were granted the privilege of wearing ‘capes and rochets’.93 After more
than twenty-five years of struggle to establish their superior rank, the abbés
généraux of Cı̂teaux were back to square one.
In addition to these arguments about precedence the chamber also po-
liced its own membership, and despite seemingly precise entrance require-
ments disputes still arose. Inspired by the actions of the nobility, and by
a surprisingly large attendance of some fifty clerics, the chamber voted, in
1712, to appoint commissioners to examine the titles of those wishing to
enter, a practice confirmed in 1715.94 Throughout the period there were
attempts to establish or re-establish entrance rights. In 1745, for example,
Joseph Negret, prévot of the collegiate church of Notre Dame of Autun,
lodged a successful petition to join the chamber, and he was followed in
1748 by the dean of the collegiate church of Cuiseau.95 The dean of Cuisery,
Reboullet, on the other hand, was to be disappointed. An aspiring anti-
quarian, he had assembled what he believed were the necessary legal proofs,
but his attempt to enter the Estates in 1727 was thwarted.96 The other deans
produced a memoir disputing his claims, and in 1730 the conseils des états
were invited to consider the matter. They rejected his arguments, and al-
though he continued to supply new evidence at subsequent assemblies he
eventually abandoned his struggle in 1742.97
To modern eyes many of these squabbles might appear ridiculous, and
it does seem remarkable that a gathering of no more than fifty clerics
could generate so much conflict. Historians have frequently issued damning
verdicts on their activities, and Billioud denounced ‘these vain quarrels
of precedence, [a] sign of moral weakness and from which no historical
92 ADCO C 3032, fol. 88. 93 Ibid., fols. 210–15.
94 See: ADCO C 3019, fol. 505 and C 3031, f. 4; and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 61.
95 Negret’s case is conserved in ADCO C 3031, fol. 542, and that of the dean of Cuiseau in ADCO
C 3032, fol. 24.
96 ADCO C 3031, fol. 234, ‘Mémoire pour les doyens des églises cathedralles et collegialles de la province
ayant entré et séance dans la chambre du clergé des états, sur la prétention du doyen de Cuisery’.
97 ADCO C 3031, fols. 490–1.
instruction can be drawn’.98 Nothing could be further from the truth.
These struggles were vital to those involved precisely because the Estates
were a vibrant and important institution, offering the perfect stage upon
which to fight the battles for precedence that were central to the society
and culture of the ancien régime. Not that the chamber was paralysed by
these wrangles, or reduced to a confused heap of fractious clerics, and all
of those present were well aware that their colleagues had no choice but to
defend their respective rights and privileges. While discussion of the internal
affairs might prolong the assembly, it would not prevent the chamber from
addressing the king’s business nor the affairs of the Estates.
t h e c h a m b e r o f t h e n obi li t y
In a memorable portrait of his father, René de Châteaubriand recalled a
proud Breton gentleman so attached to his medieval fortress of Combourg
that he would never leave it, not even to attend the Estates of Brittany.99
His compatriots were more adventurous, and tales of literally hundreds
of Breton nobles flocking to these assemblies are legion,100 but were their
Burgundian counterparts equally assiduous? During the opening decades
of Louis XIV’s personal rule more than 100 nobles regularly attended the
Estates with 189 present in 1671.101 Concern about the credentials of those
present prompted the chamber to vote, in 1679, in favour of tightening
its entry regulations. Previously all members of the second estate, apart
from those holding judicial office in the sovereign courts, were eligible.102
Henceforth the simple title of gentleman would no longer suffice, and only
those possessing a fief in the province would be admitted to the chamber.
Nobles of the robe continued to be excluded, and those wishing to secure
entry needed to supply proofs for verification by a commissioner of the
chamber, who would issue a ‘certificate confirming that they are gentlemen
of the quality required and not simply noblemen’.103
Here was an interesting form of noble census because in 1682 the com-
missioners presented a list by bailliage of the 247 nobles who had satisfied
98 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, pp. 102–3.
99 M. Levaillant ed., Châteaubriand Mémoires d’outre-tombe. Édition du centenaire intégrale et critique,
2 vols. (Paris, 1949), i, pp. 106–111, 158–60, 195–98.
100 The noble attendance at the provincial estates of Brittany has been analysed by Rebillon, États de
Bretagne, pp. 80–101.
101 ADCO C 3018, fols 132–8. The figures that follow have been compiled using the registers of the
décrets of the Estates, ADCO C 3018–22, and those of the chamber of the nobility itself, ADCO
C 3041–8. The work of H. Beaune and J. d’Arbaumont, La noblesse aux États de Bourgogne de 1350
à 1789 (Dijon, 1864), has also been consulted.
200
180
160
140
120
100
80
60
40
20
0
1662 1671 1679 1688 1697 1706 1715 1724 1733 1742 1751 1760 1769 1778
Figure 3.2 Chamber of nobility: attendance, 1662–1787
these requirements.104 Well over half of those named had made the trip
to Dijon for the Estates, but thereafter numbers declined. On average,
only eighty-five nobles attended the eleven meetings of the Estates held
between 1685 and 1715.105 The almost constant warfare after 1688 may well
account for the frequent low turn out, with only sixty-nine present in 1694,
sixty-one in 1703 and seventy-four in 1712 when the two great conflicts at
the end of Louis XIV’s reign were at their height. From 1718 to 1784 an
average of seventy-five nobles attended the Estates, although that figure
disguises some remarkable fluctuations.106 More than 100 were present in
1733, 1754, 1766 and 1769,107 but only forty-eight in 1748, forty-nine in 1757
and sixty-one in 1772.108 Military factors probably played a part in both
1748 and 1757, but a clear pattern of highs and lows associated with the
presence of the governor, or to be more precise a member of the House of
Bourbon-Condé, is unmistakeable.109 As a social group, the Burgundian
104 Ibid ., fols. 132–7.
105 The figures are taken from ADCO C 3018, fols. 205–7, 253–5, 314–16, 358–61; C 3019, fols. 55–60,
116–19, 220–2, 304–6, 409, 505, 588–9.
106 An average calculated using the attendance records contained in ADCO C 3019–23.
107 ADCO C 3020, fols. 265–6, 453–4; C 3022, fols. 205–7, 300–1.
108 ADCO C 3021, fols. 298–9, 546–7; C 3022, fols. 397–8.
109 The period from 1740 to 1751 when the Estates were presided over by the duc de Saint-Aignan was
marked by a steep fall in the attendance of both nobles and clerics.
nobles were heavily represented in military service, and their ties of loyalty
to the governor were strong. Even so, the proportion of nobles present was
still small relative to the number eligible to attend. A list of those who
received ‘letters of convocation’ in 1760 contains some 247 names,110 and it
suggests that only about a third of the potential membership was bothering
to attend an assembly that only met for two or three weeks, every three
years! Moreover, a glance at the records of those present suggests that many
came just once, and having established their credentials were never seen
again.111
Explaining the high level of absenteeism is difficult. While it is clear that
the Estates had retained great power and influence over the administration
of the province, it is possible that they had become detached from the lives
of the provincial gentlemen. As we shall see, most of those chosen to serve
as élu were from rich and ancient families of the province, many of whom
were now resident at court, or drawn from the intimate circle of the Condé
household.112 The absence of the poorer local nobility may have resulted
from frustration at being denied access to positions of influence reserved for
the governor’s clientèle. Another factor that may have had some bearing was
the relative poverty of many of these provincial gentlemen,113 whose absence
might be explained by a refusal to tolerate the condescending treatment of
the courtiers. Finally, it is conceivable that the tight political control of the
assemblies exercised by the governor had caused some nobles to become
disillusioned with the institution. In 1789, the marquis de Chastenay, a
keen advocate of reform, claimed that the threat of lettres de cachet kept all
but ‘parasites and young partygoers’ from attending the Estates.114
It is difficult to know if his attitude was typical, but the political im-
pact of a relatively small attendance was considerable, especially as many
of those sitting in the chamber were clients of the Condé. Burgundy had
no equivalent to the Breton ‘bastion’ of inveterate noble opponents of the
crown, nor was there a vast gallery of provincial hobereaux to play to.115 This
was an important factor in ensuring that the Estates of Burgundy would
not acquire a reputation for intransigence, and the role of the Condé in en-
couraging harmony was crucial. Their constant interest in the functioning
110 BMD MS 1164, fols. 1–6, ‘Rolle des lettres du roi pour la convocation des états assignés au
15 Novembre 1760’, and ADCO C 3022, fols. 121–3.
111 This is certainly the impression gained from reading the registers of the chamber.
112 See chapter 4.
113 Some examples of noble poverty are cited below.
114 BMD 21537, Lettre de m. le vicomte de Chastenay, de Flavigny en Bourgogne, le 20 Février 1789.
115 The role of the bastion has been discussed by Rebillon, Les états de Bretagne, pp. 100–1, who warns
us not to exaggerate the extent of its influence.
of the local administration, together with their regular attendance at the
Estates, helped both to preserve ties of fidelity and deference, and to over-
awe potential troublemakers. Finally, the presence of the governor enabled
powerful local families to forge a bond with the Condé to their mutual
advantage. In Brittany, on the other hand, the crown made the mistake of
cutting the governor off from the Estates, which only met twice under his
stewardship during the whole of the eighteenth century.116 Responsibility
devolved on to the shoulders of the provincial commandants, who rarely
remained in office long enough to build up the networks of patronage and
loyalty needed to manage the Estates.
As befitting a social class that, whatever the social and economic realities,
preached the virtues of equality, the chamber of the nobility had none of
the elaborate quarrels about precedence and seating arrangements that so
obsessed the clerics. The plan of the chamber drawn up in 1697 reveals a
room dominated by a large central bureau at the head of which were two
armchairs, one for the outgoing élu and the other for his successor.117 The
only other distinctions were the places reserved for the élus and deputies of
the comtés of Mâcon and Charolles, and for an officer of the Estates, who
served as secretary, and his clerks. As for the nobles themselves, they were
free to sit wherever they pleased, although the convention was for elderly,
or distinguished, members to congregate at the front close to the central
bureau.118
It was the incumbent élu, or in his absence his nominated successor,
who presided over the chamber.119 He named the orator and rapporteurs
of the chamber, and introduced the various propositions for deliberation
before collecting ‘the votes in no particular order’. All of those present
could contribute to the debate, although an internal regulation adopted
in 1778 contained the requirement that a speaker be at least twenty-five
years of age.120 Given the importance of the élu, both within the chamber
and the provincial administration, it is not surprising that the office was
highly prized, and despite the theory of noble equality and the superficially
democratic flavour of their assembly, it was not a post that was open to all.
Only the most powerful, or well-connected, could entertain a realistic hope
of election.121 The alcades were politically less significant than the élus, but
116 Ibid ., p. 184. The governorship was held by the comte de Toulouse, from 1695 to 1737, and thereafter
by his son, the duc de Penthièvre. It was Penthièvre who attended the Estates in both 1746 and
1774. Rebillon argues that the Breton governors were only interested in the financial and honorific
rewards of their office.
117 ADCO C 3036, bis. 118 Ibid., and BMD MS 840, fol. 84.
119 BMD MS 840, fols. 84–7. 120 ADCO C 3023, fol. 117. 121 See chapter 4.
their appointment was still watched over closely by the governor, further
reducing the chances of the Burgundians emulating the tumultuous and
often rebellious scenes played out in the Estates of Brittany.
When they were not considering the king’s business, the clergy had time
to pursue their precedence disputes. The nobles, on the other hand, were
preoccupied with defining the qualities required to sit amongst their ranks.
The règlement of 1679 was not the first attempt to restrict entry to the cham-
ber, and it would certainly not be the last.122 As ennoblements continued
apace during the second half of Louis XIV’s reign, the nobility sought to
impose barriers against an imagined tide of parvenus. In 1688, a new de-
liberation stipulated ‘that only the grandsons of secrétaire du roi could be
received in the chamber’.123 Further concerns were voiced in 1697, and again
in 1712 when the governor sanctioned the demand that at least sixty years
should have elapsed before the grandson of an anoblis was admissible.124
Even this was not enough to end confusion, and in 1727 and 1769 new
regulations were issued.125 According to the terms of the deliberation of
1769, the chamber expected a candidate to produce proofs on a specially
printed form of at least four degrees of nobility, and of 100 years of unbro-
ken membership of the second estate.126 Finally, in a substantial règlement
of some eighteen articles adopted in 1778, the Burgundian nobility codified
its own requirements for admitting new members.127 As with the earlier
regulations, entrance to the chamber was theoretically reserved for gentle-
men practising the profession of arms. This was a polite way of excluding
those holding judicial office, but in a significant gesture of goodwill to-
wards one of the most powerful sections of the local elite it was agreed that
any judge of distinguished family who sold, or resigned from, his office
would be eligible to sit in the Estates.128 Yet despite their elaborate efforts
to distinguish themselves, the provincial gentlemen could still suffer the
ignominy of not being recognised when they sought entry to the Palais
des États. Honour was saved by a deliberation of 1775, which decreed that
henceforth members of the chamber would sport in their buttonhole ‘a
cross of gold . . . representing the ancient cross of Burgundy’.129
122 The issue had first surfaced during the reign of Henri IV, BMD MS 840, fol. 84, ‘Mémoire
concernant la tenue des états de Bourgogne . . .’.
123 ADCO C 3018, fol. 260.
124 The details from 1697 and 1712 are contained in ADCO C 3019, fols. 59, 510.
125 ADCO C 3020, fol. 135, C 3023, fols. 116–19, C 3046, fols. 69–70.
126 ADCO C 3022, fol. 402. The form itself was introduced in 1772.
127 ADCO C 3023, fols. 116–19.
128 Ibid ., fol. 116. Many of the local judges took advantage of their rights.
129 ADCO C 3022, fol. 515.
The existence, or otherwise, of an aristocratic reaction in eighteenth-
century France continues to be a source of dispute amongst historians.130
In Burgundy, at least, the evidence for a closing of noble ranks against
either commoners, or anoblis, has to be treated extremely carefully. The
members of the chamber of nobility had been suffering from periodic bouts
of existential angst since at least the first half of the seventeenth century. If
recent anoblis were the obvious targets for exclusion, with the imposition
of first a sixty-year and then a 100-year rule, they were not the only nobles
to be disappointed. The requirement for all members of the chamber to
possess a fief, or part of one, in the province was no less an obstacle to those
whose fortune did not match their distinguished pedigree. Both old and
new families were thus barred from attending the Estates, and with many
nobles sitting in the Parlement or Chambre des Comptes the chamber could
hardly claim to be representative of the second estate as a whole.
Amongst the other more important internal deliberations of the nobility
were matters pertaining to the levy of the arrière ban, which was revived
for the last time during the War of the League of Augsburg.131 Within the
généralité of Dijon some 220 nobles were mobilised in 1692, of whom 173
were drawn from the duchy and comtés.132 When we consider that many
Burgundian nobles were already serving in the royal army, or had been
included in the arrière ban of the previous year, it represented a significant
levy. At least one septuagenarian received his call to arms, but as he bravely
prepared himself for the fray others proved more reluctant.133 At the next
assembly of the Estates, the comte de Briord, élu and president of the
nobility, made representations to the governor about the excessive demands
of the arrière ban, and two deputies were appointed to compile a list of those
eligible to serve in order to substantiate their claims.134
After 1700 the arrière ban was allowed to lapse, and the official registers
reveal the nobility engaged in the more congenial task of distributing gifts
and pensions amongst themselves. The chamber had long reserved the right
to help deserving cases such as M. de Montferrand, gentilhomme de la porte
of the noblesse, who was awarded a pension of 100 livres for life in 1742 after
130 B. de Fauconpret, Les preuves de la noblesse au XVIIIe siècle: la réaction aristocratique. Avec un recueil
de tous les ordres, honneurs, fonctions, écoles, chapitres, réservés à la noblesse (Paris, 1999), provides a
stimulating recent discussion of the subject.
131 J. Lynn, The giant of the grand siècle. The French army, 1610–1715 (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 369–71.
132 ADCO C 3599, ‘Repartition pour l’arrière ban, 1692’. The remainder were raised in Bresse and the
pays adjacents.
133 ADCO C 3599, the requête of Daniel de Priézac to the intendant. The old gentleman was excused
service by the intendant. In 1691, ten nobles failed to arrive at their military rendezvous of Le Mans.
134 ADCO C 3041, fol. 77.
his château was destroyed by fire.135 Such generosity was made possible by
the quirks of the local fiscal system, which fixed the nobility’s contribution
to the province’s capitation at 31,000 livres, a sum that remained unchanged
throughout the eighteenth century.136 Collection of the noble capitation
was entrusted to a group of commissioners, appointed by the governor from
amongst the members of the chamber, and they were able to ensure a healthy
surplus. By the end of the reign of Louis XV, the chamber was able to use
that fund to provide financial assistance to large numbers of impoverished
gentlefolk. Charlotte Françoise Dumouchet, for example, was granted an
annual pension of 300 livres for life in 1772, while Jeanne Louise Denise de
Beaurepaire received 1,200 livres, to be paid in three separate instalments,
in 1775.137 Jacques Ducrest and his two aged sisters were also favoured
with a bequest of 150 livres each for life.138 More surprising was the case
of the chevalier de Ligny, if only because he was the grandson of Jean
Bart, the great sea captain of the War of the Spanish Succession.139 Rather
than seek his fortune on the high seas, the chevalier was living in genteel
obscurity in land-locked Burgundy, but his troubles merited an annual
pension of 300 livres for life. Most of the recipients of financial aid were the
impoverished spinster daughters of serving military officers, retired soldiers
eking out an existence on a meagre pension or the victims of fire or natural
disaster.140 There are, however, cases like that of M. de Maigret, the ‘son
of a gentleman reduced to beggary’,141 who was helped to establish himself
in an honourable career. His face was his fortune in the sense that he
was described as possessing ‘a likeable, honest and attractive appearance’,
inspiring the president of the chamber to propose that he receive a pension
to meet his expenses as a volunteer in one of the regiments of Monsieur,
brother of Louis XVI. Maigret senior was also granted financial aid, and
even when his claims to be a Burgundian were later revealed to be bogus
his son’s stipend continued to be paid.142
Those seeking financial aid also advanced less conventional reasons.
During the assembly of 1775, the comte de Jaucourt reported on the case
of an anonymous gentleman who wanted to borrow 3,000 livres from the
chamber in order to complete ‘a pressing affair’.143 Jaucourt’s good offices
135 ADCO C 3022, fols. 549–50.
136 This figure excludes the tax paid by office holders and privilegiés. The inequalities of the tax system
are discussed in greater detail in chapters 6 and 10.
137 ADCO C 3022, fols. 402, 508. 138 Ibid., fol. 510. 139 Ibid., fol. 402.
140 For more examples see: ADCO C 3022, fols. 401–5, 506–15; C 3023, fols. 249–51; C 3024,
fols. 254–6.
141 ADCO C 3022, fol. 515. 142 ADCO C 3023, fols. 249–51.
143 ADCO C 3022, fols. 513–14.
were sufficient to guarantee that the loan was made, but the accompanying
deliberation specifically forbade similar actions in the future. When the
comte de Briailles sought to borrow money from the nobility to assist ‘with
the legal costs of an important lawsuit from which he expected to profit
handsomely’, he met with a firm rebuff.144 The change in mood was, in part,
the result of a short-term cash flow crisis generated by earlier munificence,
which obliged the chamber to curb its generous instincts.145 According to
the terms of a deliberation of 1778, no request for financial assistance would
be considered until a report of the state of the capitation fund was avail-
able. Henceforth the total amount to be distributed was fixed at 10,000
livres per annum, with individuals limited to an annual maximum of 600
livres.146 Finally, as the purpose of the fund was to help nobles who had
fallen on hard times, only those families paying the noble capitation would
be eligible for assistance. It proved to be a shrewd decision. The sudden
threat of being cut off from a potentially vital source of outdoor relief had
a rejuvenating effect on the nobility’s capitation rolls. Whereas only 880
‘cottes’ were listed in 1782, producing some 45,000 livres, that figure had
leapt to 1,200 by 1787 and was worth no less than 70,000 livres.147 The
chamber had thus pulled off the remarkable feat of increasing the number
of noble taxpayers by nearly a third in just five years, raising some inter-
esting questions about how much tax they had been contributing over the
previous seventy years! It also sounds a note of warning to those historians
who have been tempted to use the capitation rolls of 1789 as a yardstick
for measuring the number of nobles in the French population.148 Finally,
the administration of the capitation offers an excellent example of how the
chamber of nobility, working in cooperation with the governor, was able
to supervise its own affairs.
t h e c h a m b e r o f t h e t h i rd e s tat e
Despite its all-encompassing title, the chamber of the third estate was never
intended to represent the whole of that order. Instead, full representation
was confined to just twenty-five towns, drawn overwhelmingly from within
the duchy, whose presence was justified by distant historical precedent,
rather than a contemporary assessment of their size or economic impor-
tance. A further nine towns, four from the Auxerrois and five from the
144 ADCO C 3024, fol. 284. 145 ADCO C 3046, fol. 272.
146 Ibid ., fol. 289. 147 ADCO C 3048, fol. 59.
148 As Chaussinand-Nogaret, The French nobility, pp. 28–31, has done.
Plate 3 Plan of the chamber of the third estate at the Estates of Burgundy in 1697)
Outre-Saône, were permitted to send deputies in rotation, effectively allow-

ing each to enter the Estates once every twelve or fifteen years.149 As for the
twenty-five towns with full membership, they were in turn split into two
groups known as the grande and petite roues, although it should be noted
that the towns of the grande roue were also members of the petite, which
also determined the seating arrangements in the chamber as can be seen in
plate 3.150
At the head of the thirteen towns forming the grande roue was Dijon,
whose vicomte-mayeur was the permanent president of the chamber. The
capital also enjoyed the privilege of sending three deputies to the Estates, the
other members of the grande roue being restricted to just two. These towns
149 The towns of the Auxerrois were Seignelay, Cravant, Vermanton and St Bris, while those from the
Outre-Saône were Cuiseaux, Saint-Laurent-lès-Chalon, Louhans, Cuisery and Verdun.
150 ADCO C 3048, bis. The towns of the grande roue were: Dijon, Autun, Beaune, Nuits-St-Georges,
Saint-Jean-de-Losne, Chalon-sur-Saône, Semur-en-Auxois, Montbard, Avallon, Châtillon-sur-
Seine, Auxonne, Seurre, Auxerre. They were joined by the towns of Bar-sur-Seine and Charolles
after their unions with the duchy in 1721 and 1751 respectively. The petite roue was composed of:
Arnay-le-duc, Saulieu, Flavigny, Taland, Montréal, Mirebeau, Marcigny, Bourbon-Lancy, Semur-
en-Brionnais, Viteaux. They were joined by deputies from: Outre-Saône, Auxerrois, Charolais,
Mâconnais and Bar-sur-Seine.
60
50
40
30
20
10
0
1688 1694 1700 1706 1712 1718 1724 1730 1736 1742 1748 1754 1760 1766 1772 1778 1784
Figure 3.3 Chamber of the third estate: attendance, 1688–1787
shared the honour of providing the élu of the third estate, with the office
passing from one to another in strict rotation. The system had originated
in the sixteenth century, when the order of precedence had been carved
onto a wooden wheel to prevent disputes about whose turn it was to hold
the office.151 A similar method was employed to choose the three alcades,
who were again chosen in rotation but from the towns of both the grande
and petite roues.
Whereas attendance in the chambers of both the clergy and the nobil-
ity fluctuated considerably, the deputies of the third estate were a model
of consistency (figure 3.3). Fifty-nine deputies were present in 1688, and
an average of fifty-four between 1691 and the end of the reign of Louis
XIV.152 Although numbers fell slightly during the reign of Louis XV, to an
average of fifty,153 the final years of the ancien régime (1775–84) witnessed
a steady recovery with an average of fifty-five deputies present, and at the
151 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, p. 103.

152 The figures have been compiled from the registers of the décrets of the Estates, see: ADCO C 3018,
fols. 262, 316–22, 365; C 3019, fols. 59–62, 120–3, 223–7, 307–10, 418–22, 510, 589, 656–60, 727;
C 3020, fols. 51, 135, 256–7, 270; C 3021, fols. 78–9, 151–3, 218–20, 300–3, 392–4, 456–8, 551–2;
C 3022, fols. 61–3, 127–9, 217–19, 300–1, 405, 515–17; C 3023, fols. 128–9, 251–4, 256; and those of
the chamber itself, ADCO C 3049–54.
153 The average is based upon the nineteen assemblies from 1718–1772.
last meeting of the Estates in 1787 attendance reached sixty, one more than
at the assembly of 1688. It was the mayors and the échevins of the towns
who served as the representatives of the third estate. Traditionally, they had
been elected by tumultuous assemblies of their fellow citizens, but by the
late seventeenth century it was the governor who controlled the majority
of appointments.154 When these positions were converted into venal offices
in 1692 that power was confirmed. Rather than allow the formation of an
independent oligarchy, the Estates bought the offices themselves in 1696,
and thereafter the mayors were appointed by the élus, acting in concert
with the governor.155
Within the chamber, the presidency was exercised by the vicomte-mayeur
of Dijon, whose position and claim to the title of ‘perpetual mayor’ of the
third estate was uncontested.156 In their deliberations, the deputies spoke in
turn according to a long-established system of precedence, beginning with
Dijon and the towns of the grande roue and then continuing on around
the petite roue before drawing to a close with the representatives of the
Outre-Saône and the comtés. Although most of the major towns had two
deputies only one, usually the mayor, had a ‘vote’, and his colleague was
present in a purely consultative capacity.157 In contrast to the other chambers
there was relatively little internal controversy, except for a series of protests
about precedence, which marked the opening of every Estates. This con-
sisted of little more than the mayor of Beaune claiming that he ought to be
seated and give his opinion before his colleague from Autun.158 He would
be followed by the mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône, demanding precedence
over Beaune, the mayors of Nuits-Saint-Georges and Saint-Jean-de-Losne
asserting their superiority over Chalon-sur-Saône and so on. While we
should never ignore the significance of these quarrels, the fact that the
same protests were issued at every meeting of the Estates for over a cen-
tury without any action being taken does imply that they were more of a
formality than a sign of genuine grievance.
154 For a discussion of these elections in Dijon, see M. P. Holt, ‘Popular political culture and mayoral
elections in sixteenth-century Dijon’, in M. P. Holt, ed., Society and institutions in early modern
France (London, 1991), pp. 98–116. B. Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’, 280, has argued that the
Condé controlled the appointment of mayors in the reign of Louis XIV. We should not, however,
forget that before 1692, elections were still held and the office frequently changed hands as the first
president of the Parlement of Dijon made clear when arguing against the introduction of venality,
AN G7 157, fol. 91, Brulart to Pontchartrain, 8 December 1689. Brulart’s memoir was entitled
‘Sentiment sur certaines propositions faite pour la Bourgogne’.
155 See chapter 4. After 1740, the élus had more scope for independent action relative to the mayors.
156 BMD MS 840, fol. 92. Only in his absence did disputes occur.
157 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 10, n. 1.
158 For an example of these protests, see ADCO C 3018, fol. 318, and C 3049, fol. 186.
Of more pressing concern were the attempts of towns excluded from
the Estates to gain entry, or of those from the Outre-Saône or comtés to
obtain full membership.159 Daniel Ligou has claimed that for the towns
representation in the Estates was seen as worthless by 1710,160 but before and
after that date they fought hard to secure the privilege. At the assembly of
1682, the inhabitants of Arc-en-Barois presented a requête seeking admission
to the chamber and were refused.161 Undaunted by their setback, they tried
again in 1694, and this time took the precaution of procuring a royal lettre
de cachet supporting their demand.162 It was to no avail, and they once more
found the doors of the chamber closed. If gaining access to the Estates was
difficult, it was not completely impossible. At the assembly of 1733, the
chamber agreed that in future Mailly-la-Ville would be added to the list of
towns from the Auxerrois eligible for representation.163 As there were now
five towns to share the privilege on a rotating basis, they had won the right
to send a deputy to Dijon once every fifteen years. In 1784, however, there
were signs that the chamber had begun to adopt a more welcoming stance,
allowing each of the five towns of the Outre-Saône to send deputies to every
meeting of the Estates.
There was, therefore, a very slight increase in the number of towns rep-
resented at the final assembly of the Estates held in 1787.164 Yet it is still
striking just how narrow the representation of the third estate actually
was. The former comtés of Auxerre, Auxonne and Charolles were all dis-
advantaged relative to the duchy, and unlike Mâcon they no longer had
the compensation of possessing their own états particuliers. Perhaps more
important was the complete absence of any deputies from the peasantry, a
problem exacerbated by the exclusion of ordinary curés from the chamber
of the clergy. In theory, the peasantry was represented by the great noble
or ecclesiastical landlords, who could be expected to protect their interests
against those of the towns. However, by the eighteenth century these tradi-
tional arguments were wearing very thin, and in 1789 the cahiers produced
by the inhabitants of the Burgundian countryside were filled with calls
for political representation, alongside denunciations of a harsh seigneurial
regime.
159 Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 107–8.

160 D. Ligou, ‘La communauté d’Is-sur-Tille et les états de Bourgogne, 1692–1789’, Actes du 93e CNSS.
Section d’Histoire Moderne et Contemporaine 2 (1968), 27–45. Lamarre, Petites villes, p. 108, repeats
Ligou’s argument, but without offering any further evidence.
161 ADCO C 3018, fol. 146. According to the register the inhabitants of Cuzeau [sic], near Auxonne,
presented a similar requête.
162 ADCO C 3018, fol. 364. 163 ADCO C 3020, fol. 270. 164 Lamarre, Petites villes, p. 108.
t h e e s tat e s i n s e s s i on
With the three orders firmly ensconced in their respective chambers,
communication between them depended upon an elaborate system of
deputations. When examining the orders contained in the governor’s
instructions, it was the third estate that enjoyed the right of making the first
proposition.165 If, for example, the king had requested a don gratuit of one
million livres and the chamber had voted to accord such a sum, then two
deputies would be sent to carry news of the decision to the other cham-
bers. Once the clergy had received word from the third estate, it would
deliberate before dispatching its own envoys to inform both the nobility
and the third estate. Needless to say, the nobles themselves followed the
same procedure, and with all three chambers sending emissaries to convey
news of their actions it is easy to imagine the amount of traffic generated by
all but the most straightforward issue. Each chamber had huissiers strate-
gically positioned to warn them of approaching deputations, who, in line
with a strictly observed protocol, were greeted at the door and escorted to
armchairs especially arranged for their reception.166
As the work of the Estates progressed, the three orders found time to
indulge in a round of self-congratulation, sending deputies to deliver ‘com-
pliments of honour’ to the other chambers. These were predictable affairs.
The third estate would assure the clergy of their respect, praise their char-
itable and religious zeal, and ask for protection and moral and spiritual
guidance for the people.167 The second estate was usually less verbose, and
was happy to inform the clergy of ‘the nobility’s great esteem for such
a respectable corps’.168 As for the nobility, they received praise for their
martial valour from the third estate, and expressions of respect from the
clergy. Finally, the third estate could expect to hear a brief compliment ex-
pressed in patrician tones from both of the privileged orders. The etiquette
of these exchanges was closely monitored, and little changed throughout
the period after 1661. It is, therefore, easy to imagine the shock caused
by the compliments delivered by Gueneau de Mussy, mayor of Semur-en-
Auxois, on behalf of the third estate in 1769. Rather than flatter the clergy
with further praise of their Christian virtues, he delivered ‘a discourse on
165 The procedure was explained in a letter sent by the local intendant to the contrôleur général in 1766,
AN H1 128, Dos. 1, fol. 20, Amelot to L’Averdy, 7 August 1766.
166 ADCO C 3032, fols. 287–8, for a description of the protocol from the Estates of 1760.
167 For a typical example, see the speech of 1736, ADCO C 3031, fol. 399.
168 ADCO C 3032, fol. 24. This particular quote is from the compliment of 1748.
the benefits that would accrue from enclosures’.169 His hosts listened re-
spectfully, and the bishop of Autun then suggested that he pass a copy
of his speech to the élus. Gueneau’s intervention was a classic example of
the mania for agricultural improvement that gripped the Estates in the
second half of the eighteenth century, but he did not begin a new style
of ‘compliments of honour’. His successors stuck fast to the traditional
routine and nothing as daring was heard at subsequent meetings of the
Estates.
Deputations were also the principal means of officially informing the
governor of events within the Estates, and once the chambers had elected
their new élu they each sent a six-man deputation to inform him of
their choice.170 The procedure was repeated after every important delib-
eration, and when the votes failed to match the terms of the governor’s
instructions, the tone and content of his reply would be relayed to the
chambers as they pondered their next move. During the reign of Louis XIV,
communication between the chambers was also possible through the ap-
pointment of small committees composed of representatives of the three
orders. In 1688, for example, deputies assembled to consider problems aris-
ing from the payment of the don gratuit, a procedure repeated in 1700
when reform of abuses in the collection of the taille was on the agenda.171
Working on their own, or under the orders of the governor, the com-
mittees were expected to draft proposals that could then be put to the
chambers for swift ratification. Such a system avoided the almost inevitable
delays and confusion caused by debating complicated fiscal or adminis-
trative matters in three separate assemblies simultaneously. Perhaps sur-
prisingly, given the obvious advantages of the committee system, it never
seems to have become a permanent feature of the Estates, and references
to it after 1715 are elusive.172 It was not until 1787 that there was a serious
attempt to revive the practice, and by then the earlier precedents had been
forgotten.173
If official deputations provided the main public channel for commu-
nication within the Estates, there were, of course, many other routes by
which messages could pass. As we might expect, the role of the governor
was particularly important. He was responsible for deciding the order and
169 ADCO C 3033, fol. 35. 170 For an example, see ADCO C 3000, fol. 205.
171 ADCO C 3030, fol. 181, and C 3041, fol. 229. For other examples from the Estates of 1715, see
C 3031, fols. 11–14.
172 I have found no further examples in the registers of either the Estates, or the individual chambers.
173 See chapter 12.
timing of the demands put before the chambers, and, as the intendant
ruefully observed in 1766:
I am not informed about the different matters to be put before the assemblies,
which are discussed in the private committees that are held every morning by His
Serene Highness, because I do not attend these committees.174
The exclusion of the intendant from these crucial meetings reflected his
comparatively lowly status at the Estates, where he was very much the
junior partner to be called upon, or not, as the governor saw fit. Those who
were present in the governor’s committees were the presidents of the three
chambers, together with ‘those persons most informed about the affairs
[of the Estates]’.175 With prior organisation and consultation the governor
could be reasonably confident of dealing with most eventualities. When
trouble did arise, he was expected to use all of his powers of persuasion
to overcome opposition to royal demands. The prince de Condé gave a
good indication of what was involved in 1763, when coaxing the reluctant
Estates to vote funds for the coastal militia, an expense that was particularly
resented in land-locked Burgundy. In a letter to the contrôleur général he
wrote:
I spent the whole of yesterday speaking, or listening, to one or another, I assured
myself of the third estate, I finally had grounds to hope that the clergy would
come back to its original position, but I must confess that I despaired of the
nobility, even if I must do it the justice of saying that it is full of well-intentioned
people.176
Despite his pessimistic tone, the prince’s efforts were not in vain, and the
nobility eventually gave its approval to the article.
When seeking to overcome opposition in the Estates, the governor could
call upon the professional knowledge and expertise of the intendant and
the assistance of local dignitaries such as the military commandant or the
bishops.177 From 1722 to 1761, the post of commandant was held by the
comte de Saulx-Tavanes, the head of one of Burgundy’s foremost aristo-
cratic houses, and he wielded great influence over both the local nobility
and the Estates.178 The Saulx-Tavanes, and other distinguished families,
174 AN H1 128, Dos. 1, fol. 20, Amelot to L’Averdy, 7 August 1766.
175 BMD MS 2285, fol. viii, ‘notes sur les états de Bourgogne’. This memoir written by a local cleric,
Andre Chenevet, tallies with the account of Amelot in 1766.
176 AN H1 127, plaque 1, fol. 48, Condé to Bertin, 29 November 1763.
177 A good example is provided by the long serving intendant, Bouchu. A local man, he was able to
make good use of his personal contacts, and his letter to Colbert of 24 May 1671 is particularly
revealing, Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, p. 113.
178 Forster, The house of Saulx-Tavanes, is the essential guide.
could usually be relied upon to throw their weight behind the governor
when the need arose, and much the same could be said of the bishops.
They expected to assist the governor, and in 1691 the bishop of Autun was
mystified when he failed to receive instructions prior to his departure for
Dijon. He informed the contrôleur général that ‘I arrived here yesterday, a
little before monseigneur the prince, and for the first time in the twenty-
five years that I have been bishop [of Autun], I am going to appear [at the
Estates] without having been informed of what I should say that will be of
service to His Majesty’.179
We should not, however, assume that these local dignitaries were simply
acting on the orders of the crown. While they were determined that the
Estates should proceed smoothly, they were no less committed to protecting
the interests and privileges of the province. During the Estates of 1721,
the comte de Saulx-Tavanes, who was presiding for the absent governor,
provided a classic illustration of his role as powerbroker, mediating between
the interests of the king and those of the province. In order to bolster his own
authority, he demanded permission for the Estates to pay part of their don
gratuit in the near worthless paper currency left after the collapse of John
Law’s system.180 After describing the plight of the province, he informed
his uncle, the contrôleur général Félix Le Pelletier de La Houssaye, that
the province would have ‘a very poor opinion of the contrôleur général’s
nephew’ if he could not obtain the favour. Just in case Le Pelletier was
in any doubt about how seriously Saulx-Tavanes viewed the matter, he
concluded his letter with the words ‘I count on this absolutely, or I will
renounce for ever the right to preside at the Estates of Burgundy. You will
have to reproach yourself for having deprived me of something that flatters
me immensely’. The commandant’s request was granted, and it offers a
fine example of how local powerbrokers could succeed in establishing a
mutually rewarding relationship with the crown.
The urgent tone of Saulx-Tavanes’ correspondence with Le Pelletier de-
rived, in part, from his understandable desire to make a favourable im-
pression when presiding at the Estates. With the governor absent, the
potential for unrest was greater, and it explains why Saulx-Tavanes wanted
to have some tangible concessions from the government to demonstrate the
strength of his own credit. Indeed even the Condé were sensitive on this
score, and once the king had shown favour to one governor he could not
remove it from his successor for fear of undermining his prestige. Thus on
179 AN G7 157, fol. 175, Autun to Pontchartrain, 30 May 1691. I assume this was the result of an
oversight on the part of the crown rather than deliberate policy.
180 AN H1 100, fol. 94, Saulx-Tavanes to Le Pelletier de La Houssaye, 10 May 1721.
his accession to the governorship in 1712, the duc de Bourbon successfully
demanded an additional reduction of the don gratuit on the basis that such
a grace had been accorded to his father.181
Winning concessions from the crown was not the only way to woo the
members of the Estates. The triennial gatherings in Dijon were one of
the highlights of the social calendar, and in the course of two weeks of
banquets, balls and gambling sessions there was ample time to pursue offi-
cial business in more congenial surroundings, while forging, or renewing,
personal and family ties.182 The reputation for revelry generated by these
events was sufficient to merit official censure. In 1727, the secretary of state,
Saint-Florentin, informed Saulx-Tavanes ‘that during the assemblies of the
Estates in the provinces the most sumptuous banquets are held. His Majesty
has done me the honour of informing me that he disapproves of this ex-
cessive expenditure’.183 He added, at the next meeting of the Estates ‘you
will serve at your table no more than is indispensable for an honourable
constitution’. Despite being dated 1 April, the minister’s letter was not a
joke, but such puritanical sentiments had little impact in a province blessed
with fine wines and a gastronomic tradition to accompany them. Nor did
his strictures make political sense. The ability to entertain the deputies was
a valuable weapon, and the prospect of an invitation to dine with the gov-
ernor could help to persuade wavering deputies of the benefits of loyalty.
Indeed, they were not the only ones to benefit from the prince’s hospital-
ity. During the assembly of 1754, it was reported that ‘a thousand tickets
were distributed and that the bourgeoisie was invited. There was dancing
in three halls and the ball was [one of the most] glistening’.184 Not surpris-
ingly, therefore, the Estates continued much as before, and local commen-
tators appear to have judged their success by reference to the quality of the
entertainment.
Overall the evidence from the Estates held between 1661 and the revo-
lution reveals the existence of a well-oiled political machine. If the reac-
tion of the deputies could never be taken for granted, the governor and
his lieutenants exuded an air of confidence. They were familiar with the
rituals and ceremonies of the Estates, respected the privileges and con-
cerns of the chambers and had considerable knowledge of the deputies
themselves. These were all potential trump cards when it came to the
181 ADCO C 3030, fols. 580–6.

182 Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 153–7, provides some fascinating details of these events from the
Estates of 1718. Similar scenes were enacted at the gatherings of the Estates in other provinces.
183 ADCO E 1679, Saint-Florentin to Saulx-Tavanes, 1 April 1727.
184 Dumay, Mercure Dijonnois, p. 73.
negotiations and bargaining necessary to achieve compliance with the
king’s demands.
t h e wo rk o f t h e a s s e m bly
The principal purpose of the Estates was to consider the articles contained
in the governor’s instructions, and, first and foremost, that meant the don
gratuit. Until 1674, it was common for the bargaining process to last several
weeks, with the governor obliged to engage in protracted negotiations with
the parsimonious deputies. Although the don gratuit was rarely a source
of contention after 1674, the Estates continued to question royal fiscal de-
mands, and other taxes were the target of fierce criticism. Winning approval
for taxation was, therefore, the overriding priority for the crown, and the
most important objective of the governor. He could not, however, afford
to neglect the other items in his instructions, most of which had fiscal
implications of one form or another. Persuading the Estates to provide for
the military étapes, maintain the road network or fund new manufacturing
ventures all cost money. The Estates were generally happy to accept admin-
istrative responsibilities because they increased their standing within the
province, and by the mid-eighteenth century they were actively campaign-
ing for new powers.185 Any worries about incurring extra costs could be
offset by the knowledge that the Estates themselves would be responsible
for raising the money and overseeing how it was spent. As for the crown,
it was prepared to allow the province a considerable degree of latitude in
return for an untroubled supply of taxes and loans. That the king’s busi-
ness could be transacted in the short space of two to three weeks was the
result of a generally harmonious relationship that was reinforced by the
authority of the Condé, and the skilful management of the Estates that
they represented.
When not discussing the articles contained in the governor’s instruc-
tions, the deputies were free to examine the conduct of the provincial
administration. Each chamber would listen to the reading of the cahier
de remontrances presented to the king during the voyage of honour, and
his response to their grievances.186 They would also receive deputations
from both the alcades and the conseils des états to present their remarques.
The seven alcades (two clerics, two nobles and three members of the third
estate), as elected representatives of the three chambers, were treated with
great respect. They followed immediately behind the élus when saluting
185 See chapter 11. 186 The voyage of honour and the remonstrances are examined in chapter 5.
the governor on his arrival in Dijon, and as a corps made a tour of the
principal dignitaries and institutions of the province to offer and receive
compliments.187 Their high ceremonial standing was matched by the gravity
of their office, which was to examine the work of the provincial admin-
istration, and, where appropriate, censor its conduct or suggest plans for
reform. The presentation of their remarques was one of the most important
events of the Estates, and each article was the subject of a separate delibera-
tion by the three chambers, which rarely rejected their suggestions outright.
Instead, they tended to recommend that the articles be added to the cahier
de remontrances, referred to the chamber of élus or adopted as a décret of the
Estates.
The alcades were frequently outspoken in their criticisms, and there
is no doubt that they took their oath to censor the administration very
seriously. The potential benefits of this system of scrutiny are obvious,
but unless their recommendations were backed by a formal décret they
were not binding on the élus, who often ignored them. Despite these
limits to their effectiveness, the alcades were respected, and the prospect
of their remarques becoming a focus for dissent was always a source of
concern for the governor, who feared that their publication would incite
opposition.188 After censoring several of their remarques in 1742, the gov-
ernment ordered that in future their report should be sent to the secretary
of state for approval before the alcades presented them to the Estates.189
Even that was not enough to prevent a major crisis in 1781, when the
governor was obliged to strike out several articles that he believed to be
inflammatory.
The remarques of the conseils des états were less contentious. They too
presented their report to the various chambers, which then considered the
articles in the manner described above. As we might expect of professional
legal experts, they tended to make observations on the impact of new royal
legislation, or the laws and customs of the province, suggesting innova-
tions or amendments where necessary.190 Given the complicated nature
of many of these issues, the articles were frequently accompanied by de-
tailed legal memoranda that were presumably ignored by all but the most
conscientious deputies.191 Not surprisingly the majority of their sugges-
tions were referred to the élus, and later formed the basis of the cahier de
remontrances.
187 The protocol is described in the registers of the alcades, ADCO C 3306, fol. 3.
188 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 22–3. 189 See chapter 8.
190 For examples from 1706 and 1709, see ADCO C3030, fols. 506–13, 529–66.
191 For a good example of their work, ADCO C 3032, fol. 144.
The process of scrutinising the administration also involved the exam-
ination of the carnet des ratifications. These imposing registers contained
records of the deliberations of the élus over the previous three years, and
in the overwhelming majority of cases the chambers did no more than add
their seal of approval. In particular, the Estates gave their retrospective con-
sent to the appointment of provincial officials, the loans or taxes contracted
during their absence and to the daily decisions taken by the élus acting in
their name. Much of this was a pure formality, but there are some examples
of protests arising from the reading of the carnet. In 1757, the Estates were
angry to learn that the élus had agreed to a substantial increase in their
contribution to the costs of the militia and the decision to remonstrate was
approved unanimously.192 On occasions the desire to police the activities of
the élus could be taken to extremes. In 1778, for example, it was discovered
that the published version of a decision taken by the élus failed to match the
minutes in the official register, producing a décret forbidding such laxity in
the future.193 Finally, within the chambers, the various members had the
right to raise issues of concern that could, in theory, prompt the Estates to
pass a décret regulating the procedures of the élus or the provincial officials.
Taken together, the remarques of the alcades and the practice of verifying
the carnet des ratifications meant that the élus could not take the approval
of the Estates for granted.
In addition to watching over the activities of the chamber of élus, the
Estates could also issue décrets designed to reform or improve the quality of
the provincial administration. In a décret of 1665, they declared ‘that no tax
could be levied nor payment authorised without the presence of at least two
of the representatives of the [three] orders’.194 An almost identical décret
was issued in 1682, and its scope was extended to include all ‘important
affairs’.195 From the perspective of the Estates, it was crucial for their élus
to control their own chamber rather than allow their permanent officials
to exercise power in their name. That the décrets of 1665 and 1682 repeated
in large measure those of 1554, 1557, 1584, 1611, 1614 and 1645, to name but
a few, demonstrates the vigilance of the Estates and one of their principal
weaknesses. While the élus were, when it suited them, proud to boast that
‘a décret of the Estates is a law for us’,196 there were few direct sanctions
that could be applied against them if their deeds failed to match their
fine words. During the triennalité of 1751–4, for example, the élus avoided
192 ADCO C 3006, fol. 31, and C 3051, fol. 100. The increase was from 204,817 livres to 344,726 livres
per annum.
adding an item to the cahier des remontrances, despite an explicit décret
from the Estates.197 Much grumbling ensued, but there was not much the
Estates could do other than add the missing article to their next set of
remonstrances.
Such complaints were, however, increasingly rare after 1682, and the élus
were generally assiduous in the accomplishment of their duties. Instead, new
décrets focused upon the rules governing administrative practice, although
they all suffered from the problem of enforcement. Despite the exhortations
of the Estates, and even the good intentions of the élus, the décrets formed
a massive corpus of instructions stretching back into the middle ages. Not
surprisingly, rather than spend time in the archives checking that they were
acting in accordance with earlier décrets, successive waves of élus tended
to copy the administrative practice of their immediate predecessors.198 To
overcome this institutional inertia required persistence on the part of the
Estates, pressure from the crown or the governor or the emergence of a gen-
eral consensus in favour of change. Yet even the most cursory investigation
of the décrets reveals that the Estates were far from moribund, and the élus
were never entirely free of their control.
The regulations governing the internal procedures of the Estates were
also subject to periodic revision. In 1668, a décret ordered the presidents
of the three chambers to read the results of their deliberations at the end
of every session, and then to sign the approved versions in order to pre-
vent confusion and error.199 Similar décrets were issued concerning the
rituals, ceremonies and assemblies of the Estates, and it is clear that as
a body they enjoyed real independence when it came to defining their
internal rules and procedures. The crown was generally tolerant of the
situation, and it was not until the interregnum following the death of
the duc de Bourbon in 1740 that it intervened directly. Royal règlements
issued in 1742 and 1744 tightened the king’s control over the internal af-
fairs of the chamber of élus and the appointment of the most important
offices of the Estates. The battle to overturn these règlements was one of
the principal preoccupations of the Estates in the final years of the ancien
régime.200
Time was also devoted to resolving the internal wrangles of the individual
chambers, and it was to the authority of the Estates that the chamber
of the clergy turned when trying to block the pretensions of the abbé
197 ADCO C 3005, fols. 458–9
198 As the alcades noted in their censored remarques of 1742, ADCO C 3304, fols. 81–2.
199 ADCO C 2997, fol. 102. 200 See chapter 8.
général of Cı̂teaux in 1730. The other chambers condemned the abbé,
and ordered the procureurs syndics to seek official confirmation of their
decision from the king.201 Meetings of the Estates could also be used as a
platform from which to wage war against other corporate bodies, notably
the Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and the états particuliers. Protecting
the position of the Estates within the provincial hierarchy by upholding
its privileges and jurisdiction was treated as an almost sacred duty, and the
history of the period is punctuated by often fierce disputes with these local
rivals.
In addition to examining the king’s requests and their own affairs, the
Estates were expected to consider the many requêtes submitted by the com-
munities, institutions and people of the province. As many as one hundred
of these petitions were received at every meeting, and the hospitals and reli-
gious orders such as the General Hospital and the Bon Pasteur of Dijon, or
the Aumône Général of Autun, were amongst the most frequent recipients
of financial aid. The towns and villages of the province also appealed for
help on a variety of matters, and demands for tax relief after a poor harvest
were ubiquitous. Variations on the theme included the requête of 1691 from
the inhabitants of Baigneux ‘to have their taille reduced and to be exempted
from providing a soldier for the militia because of the [losses caused by]
frost and the passage of troops’.202 Fire, pestilence, whether an affliction
of man or beast, and numerous other natural or man-made disasters were
the inspiration behind these appeals for a tax reduction. Requests for the
construction or repair of roads and public buildings were perennial features
of the petitions. To add weight to their demands, it was common for several
communities to present a joint requête as the villages of Seigny and Grignon
did in 1691 when seeking the repair of a bridge.203 Even more powerful and
exalted towns such as Auxerre, Beaune and Semur-en-Auxois thought it
worthwhile combining in 1787 to request ‘the complete construction of
the road from Beaune to Noyers’.204 Individual requests were usually for
services rendered. The various officers of the Estates, or their dependents,
sought pensions and gratifications for their labours, and even less well-
connected figures felt it worthwhile seeking financial aid. The chambers
deliberated on all of these petitions individually, and they had three main
options to choose from, namely to approve the requête, reject it, or refer it
to the élus for a final decision.
203 Ibid ., fol. 301. 204 ADCO C 3048, fol. 86.
As the number of requêtes presented at the Estates was relatively stable
during the century before 1789, and included demands from a representa-
tive sample of the province’s communities, from the towns of the grande
roue to the smallest hamlets, it seems reasonable to suggest that the Estates
continued to be recognised as an effective means of obtaining favour, assis-
tance or redress.205 While the administration of the élus would become a
target of criticism in the second half of the eighteenth century, the Estates
themselves retained a degree of respect. In 1789, there were widespread calls
for their reform, almost none for their suppression.
pe n s i o n s a n d g i f ts
If humble individuals or communities could hope for succour from the
Estates, the rich and powerful expected to receive more substantial re-
wards. At every triennial assembly the Estates voted dons et gratifications for
the favoured few. Historians of both Brittany and Languedoc have been
extremely critical of the prodigality of the provincial Estates,206 and it is
interesting to follow the evolution of the dons et gratifications in Burgundy.
At the Estates of 1662, the total spent was exactly 112,050 livres divided
amongst twenty-five individuals, with a further 24,000 livres paid to the
governor’s guards and 20,500 livres for the services of ‘people of quality’.207
Little had changed when the Estates assembled in 1688, and some 99,200
livres was shared between thirty-six individuals, with a further 24,000 livres
allocated to the governor’s guards and a miserly twelve livres for the men-
dicant orders.208 As we might expect, the governor was the main benefi-
ciary of the system. In total, he received some 56,000 livres.209 After him
came the lieutenant général of Dijon, d’Amanzé, with 9,000 livres, M. de
Châteauneuf, the secretary of state whose department included Burgundy,
who received 6,000 livres and the lieutenants généraux of Autun, Chalon,
Mâcon and Charolles who were awarded 3,000 livres each. The same sum
of 3,000 livres was paid to a number of dignitaries, including the contrôleur
général, Le Peletier, the first president of the Parlement of Dijon and the
provincial intendant. The remainder was distributed in relatively small
amounts of 200–1,000 livres each to officials of the Estates or ministers in
205 Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 396–408, argues persuasively that the Estates of Artois, in particular,
had lost the confidence of the population when it came to seeking redress.
206 See: Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 117–46; Collins, Classes, estates, and order, pp. 193–8; and
Rebillon, États de Bretagne, pp. 97–8.
209 This figure included the 6,000 livres that was attributed to the now defunct Estates of Auxonne.
Versailles as well as to members of the governor’s household. Finally, the
Estates voted a fund of 26,500 livres to be distributed ‘on the recommen-
dation of His Serene Highness’, noting that ‘it is necessary, as has been the
case since time immemorial, to express their gratitude to several persons of
quality who could serve the province’.210 By 1736, a total of 103,312 livres was
being shared by approximately thirty-two individuals.211 Little had changed
since the beginning of Louis XIV’s personal rule either in monetary terms,
or in relation to the actual beneficiaries who, after the governor, were an
almost identical mixture of the military commandants and provincial and
royal officials. Nor had the fund to be used at the discretion of the governor
been increased, and that remained fixed at 26,500 livres.
The death of the duc de Bourbon allowed the crown to intervene, and
in a règlement of 1742 the king formally identified those who were eli-
gible for dons et gratifications and the amounts they would receive.212 A
total of 151,139 livres was henceforth to be divided amongst thirty-seven
people, with most of the increase pocketed by the governor, the contrôleur
général and the secretary of state for the province. Although the cost of
the dons et gratifications had not risen dramatically, the Estates were in-
censed. The chamber of the nobility, in particular, voiced loud protests
about the new governor, the duc de Saint-Aignan, receiving 68,539 livres,
when the Condé had been content with just 56,000 livres for more than
a century.213 Nor was the royal interference in the distribution of the pa-
tronage of the Estates appreciated. Both of the privileged orders protested
that:
this règlement takes away the liberty, that the Estates have always enjoyed, to favour
those who have rendered them service, or to deprive those who have not merited
it, because it stipulates that gratifications can neither be increased nor decreased
without the express consent of His Majesty.
The fear that the Estates would lose control of the funds distributed in
their name was a real one, and such a defeat might have had costly im-
plications. Repeated remonstrances failed to overturn the règlement, but
when, in 1757, the king awarded a pension of 20,000 livres to the recently
retired governor, all three orders made vigorous protests and the charge was
dropped.214
210 ADCO C 2999, fol. 159.

211 ADCO C 3003, fol. 234. It is not possible to be precise because the registers speak of ‘plusieurs
officiers’ sharing 2,600 livres.
214 ADCO C 3045, fol. 136. The Parlement of Dijon also launched its own attack on the pension.
The Estates were, therefore, far from lax when it came to policing the gifts
dispensed in their name,215 and it was the crown that was responsible for
the modest increase in the dons et gratifications of 1742. When the prince
de Condé assumed control of his governorship in 1754, a new règlement
was drawn up which would remain in force until 1789.216 Some 262,623
livres was allocated for each triennalité (87,541 livres per annum), of which
176,723 livres went to the governor, his guards and other military and civilian
officers. The remaining 85,900 livres was divided between the traditional
recipients at Versailles and those within the province. The popularity and
credit of the young prince smoothed the progress of the new règlement, and
the issue of dons et gratifications would not attract serious attention again
until the very eve of the revolution.
t h e co n f e re n ce
To complete the business of the Estates generally required no more than
two or three weeks. When the governor was satisfied that his instructions
had been implemented, and that the useful work of the chambers was
concluded, he gave orders for the summoning of the ‘conference of the
Estates’, and sought permission from the king to leave the province.217
The conference was the official climax to the assembly. All three orders
were reassembled in the Grande Salle, where the individual deliberations of
the chambers were read out. When all three orders were in agreement, the
president, usually the bishop of Autun, pronounced simply the word ‘décret’.
If, on the other hand, the clergy and one other order opposed a third then
the phrase ‘décret to the church’ was declared. Finally, if the nobility and the
third estate were in favour and the clergy against, the president pronounced
‘décret to the nobility’. The reality behind these formulae was the binding
nature of a vote by two orders to one. However, on important matters,
especially those concerning the king’s business or significant reforms of the
administration, unanimity was preferred, not least because of the added
solemnity accorded by the verdict of the Estates as a whole. The governor
was, therefore, willing to engage in lengthy negotiations to achieve that
end, to the extent of ordering new deliberations within the chambers before
agreeing to the convocation of the final assembly.
215 An opinion shared by Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 125–7, in his discussion of the Estates of
1718.
216 ADCO C 3041, fols. 99–101, and ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 113. The pays adjacents contributed 36,000
livres and the Mâconnais 21,272 livres.
217 BMD MS 2285, fol. viii, and Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 77–127.
Once the conference had opened it was too late for changes of this sort
to be made, and the raising of new issues, or the reopening of old de-
bates, was forbidden.218 The only serious interruptions to the ceremony
were caused by the confusion resulting from so many independent de-
liberations. Since at least 1668, the three presidents had been required to
read the relevant decisions to their respective chambers at the end of every
working day, and then to sign the agreed text.219 As with many décrets, it
was not always obeyed to the letter, and in 1745 the crown intervened with
a règlement designed to enforce the practice.220 Such measures helped to
facilitate what was an already brief meeting, and after two or three hours
the conference was concluded. Finally, the new élus swore an oath before
the bishop of Autun, who then addressed a final harangue to the governor,
wishing him ‘adieu’.221 For the next three years at least, the Estates were
closed.
Historians have often been harsh in their assessment of the Estates of
Burgundy, and Bouchard spoke for many when he declared that:
an excessive and rigid ceremonial limited the scope for individual initiative; the
programme of deliberations was largely traced in advance, precedence quarrels and
social calls consumed a good part of the time and the cares that public affairs
required.222
Many of his criticisms were judicious, but talk of the decline of the Estates
after 1661 has been exaggerated. Historians have been misled by the relative
absence of political conflict into assuming that the institution had lost all
useful purpose. Yet in his splendid account of the assembly of 1718, Dumont
painted a very different portrait, arguing that:
without éclat, without quarrels between the orders, knowing when and how to
assert the rights of the province, watchful of its interests, such are, after the décrets,
the Estates of 1718; such were, perhaps, the Estates of Burgundy in the eighteenth
century.223
His intuition is borne out by a more detailed examination of the Estates,
and from the evidence provided by the attendance figures and the internal
activities of the three chambers. Under the tutelage of the Condé, the Estates
remained an effective means of contracting business with the crown, and
218 BMD MS 2285, fol. viii. 219 ADCO C 2997, fol. 102. 220 ADCO C 3004, fol. 190.
221 For examples from 1703 and 1754 respectively, see ADCO C 3000, fols. 206–8, and C 3021,
fol. 409.
222 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, p. 28. Billioud, États de Bourgogne, pp. 102–3, was, if anything, even
more scathing.
223 Dumont, Une session des états, p. 82.
of articulating the grievances of the province. There were of course many
faults; not least the extremely narrow range of social groups represented
in the Estates, something that would become increasingly resented as the
eighteenth century progressed. Nevertheless the Estates were not a rubber
stamp for the demands of the crown, nor were they simply a social gathering
dedicated to the distribution of spoils amongst local elites. Throughout the
period after 1661, the Estates were a living institution, a working body, and
not a medieval relic surviving in an ‘absolutist’ or ‘enlightened’ age.
chapter 4
Nosseigneurs les élus and the officers of the Estates
With the Estates General in session for only a few weeks every three years,
power and responsibility was devolved to its representatives and officers
in the chamber of élus. No less an authority than Chrétien Guillaume de
Lamoignon de Malesherbes, first president of the Cour des Aides of Paris and
later an enlightened minister of Louis XVI, observed in the remonstrances
he addressed to Louis XV in July 1763 ‘that as many disputes are settled
and as much business conducted in this chamber of élus as in the most
active intendance’.1 As rivals and fierce critics of the élus, Malesherbes
and his colleagues sought to denigrate the Burgundian administration by
maintaining that, despite their immense workload, ‘in reality the élus only
assemble in Dijon once each year, that this assembly lasts for about two
months and, in the intervals, there are no other meetings’.2 In their absence
the daily administration ‘is necessarily handed over to subordinates who
are permanently resident in Dijon’.
Despite the polemical tone of the remonstrances, which were written
during a particularly bitter jurisdictional quarrel with the Estates,3 many
subsequent historians have been happy to repeat these allegations as part
of a more general critique of the competence and integrity of the élus.4
In his discussion of the province’s fiscal system, Bouchard was unequiv-
ocal: ‘the élus of the clergy and the nobility played almost no role at all.
The majority of the time, they resided in a monastery, a château or in
1 Quoted in J. Egret, Louis XV et l’opposition parlementaire (Paris, 1970), p. 145. The remonstrances in
question were those of 23 July 1763.
2 Ibid .
3 The episode is discussed in chapter 10, and J. Swann, ‘Power and provincial politics in eighteenth-
century France: the Varenne affair, 1757–1763’, French Historical Studies 21 (1998), 441–74.
4 For all of its merits, this is the core argument of Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV . A similar theme
runs through the works of: T. Foisset, Le président de Brosses. Histoire des lettres et des parlements au
XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1842), pp. 204–6; E. de la Cuisine, Le parlement de Bourgogne: depuis son origine
jusqu’à sa chute 2 vols. (Dijon, 1857), ii, pp. 393–4; Olivier-Martin, L’administration provinciale,
pp. 309–10.
91
another town than the capital of the province’.5 Not surprisingly, he fol-
lowed Malesherbes in placing real power with the permanent officials. Nor
was Bouchard prepared to accord the élus much respect when they were
actually present. On examining the tax rolls of 1786, he discovered four
widows who had inexplicably escaped being assessed for the taille. For his
own calculations, he counted them as ‘common taillables, although they
enjoyed privileges that were, in all likelihood, of an erotic nature’.6 These
unsubstantiated comments reveal more about the author than they do
the élus, but they also offer a perfect illustration of the harsh judgements
they have attracted. Indeed even Pierre d’Orgeval, who wrote a highly
favourable history of the provincial tax system, concluded that it was the
permanent officials, not the élus, who were the driving force behind the
administration.7
The attack on the competence of the élus has proved so persuasive be-
cause it dovetails neatly with broader arguments stressing the antiquated
nature of the Estates relative to the supposedly more modern administra-
tion of the intendants. Yet the ferocity of the condemnation of the élus
has not been matched by a similarly rigorous investigation of their ac-
tions, competence and decision-making procedures. If the élus really were
the ignorant squires and otherworldly monks described by their critics,
then the accusations against them should be relatively easy to substantiate.
However, closer inspection of their social and professional backgrounds
soon reveals that they were men of an altogether different stamp. Drawn
from the very highest ranks of French society, they had the social capital,
knowledge and experience required to advance the interests of the Estates.
Moreover, throughout the period, many of the élus and the permanent
officers were intimately connected to the House of Bourbon-Condé, rais-
ing further questions about the nature of the provincial administration.
Historians have generally assumed that after 1661 patronage and clientèle
networks were directed from the centre with the king, or Jean-Baptiste
Colbert acting in his name, assuming a role previously left to provincial
powerbrokers.8 The Estates of Burgundy does not fit that pattern, and the
patronage of the governor remained a factor of great significance until the
end of the ancien régime.
5 G. Bouchard, ‘Comptes borgnes et fiscalité aveugle au dix-huitième siècle’, Annales de Bourgogne 26

(1954), 26.
6 Ibid . 7 P. d’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne au XVIIIe siècle (Dijon, 1938), p. 15.
8 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 244, and Kettering, Patrons and brokers, p. 223.
Nosseigneurs les élus and the officers of the Estates 93
The chamber of élus had originated as the permanent tax collecting body
of the Estates during the reigns of the Valois dukes.9 By the early sixteenth
century, it was an established convention that the three orders each chose a
deputy to sit in the chamber, alongside a representative of the crown, known
as the élu du roi, two representatives of the Chambre des Comptes of Dijon
and the vicomte-mayeur of the city. These seven individuals collectively
formed the chamber, although they could call upon the expertise of a team
of permanent officials, whose duties and specialist knowledge rendered
them indispensable. By the early eighteenth century, the right of the élus to
‘govern and administer the revenues of the province’ was firmly established,
and they had the direction of everything affecting its ‘administration and
well-being’.10
As we have seen, ever since the stinging criticisms of Malesherbes it has
been assumed that the permanent officials accomplished the work of the
chamber. It is true that the elective principle from which they derived their
name had been progressively undermined, but who were the élus and do
they deserve their supine reputation?
t h e é lu s o f t h e c l e rg y
If we examine the forty-three élus of the chamber of the clergy appointed
between 1662 and the revolution, many of the myths about their personal
qualities and competence are quickly dispelled (appendix 3). What is im-
mediately striking is the strong link between them and the Condé. In 1662,
the election fell to Louis Dony d’Attichy, bishop of Autun. He was close to
the Grand Condé and his sister, the comtesse de Maure, was an ‘habitué’
of the Hôtel de Condé and was married to Louis de Rochechouart who
had served as a general in the princely armies during the Fronde.11 His
successor in the see of Autun, Gabriel de Roquette, was chosen as élu in
1671 and again in 1697, and had worked with Rochechouart on behalf of
the princes during the Fronde. He owed his elevation to the episcopate
to the prince de Conti, but from 1662 he was one of the Grand Condé’s
intermediaries with the ministers of Louis XIV.12 Another member of the
9 The origins and development of the chamber have been examined by Billioud, États de Bourgogne,
pp. 161–2, 165–8, 169–71.
10 AN G7 166, fol. 27, ‘Mémoire concernant les états de Bourgogne’. It was written during the regency,
probably in 1720.
11 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 416, 436, and J. Bergin, The making of the French episcopate,
1589–1661 (London, 1996), pp. 610–11.
12 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, p. 436, and Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 37.
Roquette clan, Henri Emanuel, abbé de Reims, was chosen as élu in both
1694 and 1712. Other notable Condéans included Abraham de Thésut,
doyen of the collegiate church of Chalon-sur-Saône, élu in 1677. He was
the son of the Grand Condé’s ‘intendant des affaires’ in Burgundy, Jacques
de Thésut, whose influence in the province was feared and respected in
almost equal measure.13 His nephew, Jean de Thésut, sieur de Ragy, whose
daughter married Gagne de Perrigny, président à mortier in the Parlement
of Dijon, subsequently served as the governor’s intendant. It was almost
certainly not a coincidence that abbé Aimé François Gagne de Perrigny
was chosen as élu in both 1727 and 1739. Finally, it is possible to cite the
examples of Charles Andrault de Longeron, abbé de Maulevrier, élu in 1685,
a member of a clan that was solidly entrenched in the Condé household,14
and abbé Edmé Mongin, a former preceptor to the duc de Bourbon, who
was appointed élu at the Estates of 1718.15
The interregnum following the death of the duc de Bourbon in 1740
did not alter the picture substantially. Amongst later protégés of the gov-
ernor were Claude-François de Luzines, a former lecteur of the prince de
Condé, who was élu in both 1772 and 1781, and abbé Louis-Henri de La
Fare, the future bishop of Nancy, who was chosen at the Estates of 1784.16
These examples of the patronage power of the Condé are not intended to
be exhaustive, merely to illustrate the importance of the governor’s influ-
ence over the choice of the clergy’s élu. Not that the Condé were likely to act
unilaterally. As expert practitioners of the art of managing the Estates, they
took soundings from influential Burgundians before making their choice,
while those clerics with a realistic hope of securing election courted the
support of the governor as part of a mutually rewarding partnership. Thus,
in 1703, Henri-Jules chose abbé Le Goux as élu with the aim of rewarding
a powerful parlementaire clan. Thésut de Ragy subsequently informed the
governor that the Parlement of Dijon was delighted, adding that ‘the family
of M. Le Goux, which is connected to the very best in this town, will be
for ever indebted to you’.17
When it was the turn of the bishops to provide an élu, the governor’s
scope for independent action was more limited. In 1706, the bishop of
Chalon-sur-Saône had seniority on his side and was anxiously courting the
13 The role and importance of the Thésut family has been examined by Béguin, Les princes de Condé,
p. 439.
14 Ibid ., p. 396. 15 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 137.
16 Ibid ., p. 194, n. 51, and N. Aston, The end of an elite. The French bishops and the coming of the
revolution, 1786–1790 (Oxford, 1992), p. 101.
17 BMC AC GB 29, fol. 231, Henri-Jules to abbé Fyot, June 1702, and Thésut de Ragy to Henri-Jules,
20 November 1702.
governor. He had good reason to be nervous because the recently appointed
bishop of Auxerre, Charles-Gabriel Daniel Thubière de Caylus, had the
backing of madame de Maintenon and he subsequently prevailed.18 Astute
as ever, Henri-Jules was careful to ensure that Thubière de Caylus paid a
price for his victory, obliging him to ratify the treaty of union between the
comté of Auxerre and the Estates of 1668. By doing so, the bishop accepted
that, within the Estates, the clergy of his diocese would cede rank and
precedence to those of the duchy. It was an effective way of smoothing the
ruffled feathers of the bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône and any of his supporters
who had been vexed by the governor’s choice.
Madame de Maintenon was not the only powerful patron to take an
interest in Burgundian affairs, and the social and political connections
of senior clerics such as André Colbert, bishop of Auxerre, cousin of the
legendary Jean-Baptiste, and élu of the clergy in 1679, made them strong
candidates for election even if their relationship with the governor was no
more than lukewarm. Yet even such a powerful figure as Michel Le Tellier
still felt it necessary to write an effusive letter of thanks to the Grand Condé
when his son, Charles Maurice, was elected in 1665.19 Others held influen-
tial positions in their own right, notably Yves Alexandre de Marbeuf, bishop
of Autun, holder of the feuille des bénéfices, during the reign of Louis XVI.
In a letter to his counterpart in Mâcon, some three months before the
Estates of 1778, Marbeuf wrote to ask for his ‘vote for the clerical election
in the forthcoming Estates of our province. I shall be very happy to depend
upon your support for a place that His Majesty has so graciously nomi-
nated me’.20 Not surprisingly in these circumstances, he was subsequently
elected unanimously, a pattern that can be observed in elections both be-
fore and after.21 Bishops such as Colbert or Marbeuf could never be classed
as clients of the Condé, and even if many of the others owed their em-
inence to the influence of the governor, they were unlikely to risk their
credit in the province by acting as the puppets of a princely master in
Chantilly.
When subject to close scrutiny the clerical élus do not fit the stereotype
of otherworldly men of God ill-suited to the task of public administration.
What historians have overlooked is the wealth of ambition, talent and
experience amongst the ranks of the clergy. In Burgundy, as in other pays
d’états, the bishops were familiar with the task of running their diocese and
18 BMC AC GB 31, fol. 498, and ibid., fol. 507, Thésut de Ragy to Henri-Jules, 5 April 1706.
19 Béguin, Princes de Condé, pp. 307–8.
20 ADSL C 504, fol. 13, Marbeuf to the bishop of Mâcon, 12 February 1778.
21 The details of the Estates of 1778 and 1781 are recorded in ADCO C 3033, fols. 157–60, 256.
frequently the affairs of the French church itself.22 There was never any
shortage of talent in the clerical ranks. Claude Fyot de la Marche, abbé of
Saint Etienne of Dijon, who was chosen as élu in both 1674 and 1700, was a
particularly shining example. In addition to being a conseiller d’honneur in
the Parlement of Dijon, he had been named a conseiller d’état in 1669 and
was reputed to have ‘defended brilliantly his theological thesis before the
king, monsieur and the cardinal de Mazarin’.23 A passionate bibliophile,
local savant and artistic patron, he was responsible for the rebuilding and
beautification of the church of Saint Étienne. As for the abbé de La Fare,
élu from 1784 to 1787, he was the precocious nephew of cardinal de Bernis,
and had shone at the General Assemblies of the French clergy held in 1785
and 1786.24 After his successful triennalité in Burgundy, which included a
spell at the Assembly of Notables of 1787, he was appointed to the see of
Nancy. Such was his reputation that he was elected to represent his new
diocesan clergy at the Estates General of 1789, and was accorded the great
honour of delivering the sermon at the opening ceremony. He achieved the
twin triumph of visibly annoying Marie-Antoinette, while enthusing his
audience, and ‘when he inveighed against the evils caused to countryfolk
by the gabelle, applause broke out in the church’.25
La Fare was clearly a gifted prelate, and he was by no means an exception
amongst those who served the Estates of Burgundy after 1662. Drawn
from the aristocratic elites, or the highest reaches of the robe nobility,
they were men of immense authority. They understood the rules by which
government was conducted, and had ready access to the levers of power
at Versailles. Many had been nominated by the governor, and few would
have deliberately set out to oppose his interests, but they were neither his
ciphers nor those of the king. Most had family connections to the province,
and, as intelligent and often experienced administrators, they undoubtedly
brought their own ideas to bear. The argument that they were incapable
of assuming their responsibilities in the chamber of élus is both inaccurate
and misleading.
t h e n o b l e é lu s
The noble élus (appendix 4) were men of a different stamp, lacking the cor-
porate solidarity that united the clergy, and their overwhelmingly military
22 The administrative role of the bishops has been discussed by Aston, End of an elite, pp. 30–45, and
J. McManners, Church and society in eighteenth-century France Vol. I: the clerical establishment and its
social ramifications (Oxford, 1998), pp. 235–61.
23 J. Garnier and C. Muteau, Galerie Bourguignonne, 3 vols. (Dijon, 1858), i, p. 368.
24 Aston, End of an elite, p. 101. 25 Ibid., pp. 22–3.
backgrounds meant that they were more closely tied to the governor. In
1662, Hérard Bouton, comte de Chamilly, was chosen as élu and he enjoyed
the rare distinction of being elected again in 1665. It would be difficult to
find a more loyal client of the Condé. Having entered their service at the
age of thirteen, he fought at Rocroi and remained a companion in arms
of the Grand Condé throughout the Fronde, eventually following his chief
into exile in the Low Countries.26 In addition to the honour of twice being
chosen as élu, his rewards included nomination as governor of the château
of Dijon. An active military man of the old sword nobility of the province,
Chamilly was typical of the noble élus in the period after 1662.27 Other
good examples of their ilk were Gabriel de Briord, marquis de Senozan,
élu in 1679 and 1691, and Joseph de Xaintrailles, élu in 1688. Both were
members of the Condé household, and in the case of Briord his loyalty to
the prince during the Fronde had led to the confiscation of his lands in
Bugey and Bresse.28 When his patron was restored to royal favour his affairs
prospered once more, and he would later serve as Louis XIV’s ambassador
to Turin and subsequently The Hague.
Little changed in the course of the eighteenth century. Armand de
Madaillan de Lesparre, marquis de Lassay, was a first gentleman in the
princely household and married the legitimised daughter of Henri-Jules.29
He was not originally from the province and did not enter the Estates until
1697, but his intimate ties to the governor ensured that he was chosen as élu
in 1700. His son, who served in one of the Condés’ regiments, continued
the family tradition and served as élu in 1712.30 Marie Roger de Langhac,
marquis de Colligny, the prospective élu at the Estates of 1724, explained
the importance of the governor when seeking support. He wrote:
His Serene Highness . . . having done me the honour of giving his approval for the
election of this next triennalité, I have the honour of begging you, sir, to grant me
your suffrage, I dare hope that your affection for our great prince will secure me
that favour.31
The death of the duc de Bourbon is usually assumed to have led to a
sharp decline in the governor’s influence, with the king making the choice
of élu. Yet once the prince de Condé took over the reins of the family
governorship in 1754, he too asserted his influence, and the idea that the
king appointed the noble élu in the second half of the eighteenth century
refers to the theory, not the practice. As early as 1747, the commandant of
26 Aumale, Princes de Condé, pp. 245–50, and Béguin, Les princes de Condé, p. 406.
27 D. Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades des états de Bourgogne au XVIIIe siècle’, Actes du 92e Congrès Nationale
des Sociétés Savantes (Paris, 1970), 19–40, provides a useful introduction.
28 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 407, 440. 29 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 113.
30 Ibid., pp. 113–14. 31 ADCO E 754, M. de Langhac to M. Fevret, 31 January 1724.
the province, the comte de Saulx-Tavanes, had approached the secretary
of state, Saint-Florentin, seeking the nomination of the comte de Vienne
as élu.32 He was to be disappointed. As Saint-Florentin explained, ‘he has
rivals and, amongst others, the marquis d’Anlezy, governor of the prince
de Condé. The support of this prince who shall soon be in possession of
the governorship of Burgundy can only be extremely favourable to him’.33
D’Anlezy was nominated, and the comte de Vienne would have to wait
until 1760 before his ambition was fulfilled.
The noble élus were not all members of the Condé household. Distin-
guished individuals were confident enough to write directly to the gover-
nor pressing their claims, as François de Choiseul-Chevigny did in 1697,
promising to fill the role ‘with honour, éclat and [by] spending more than
any other’.34 Patrons also wrote on behalf of their relatives and clients. After
nominating the comte de Verdun in July 1695, Henri-Jules informed the
maréchal de Tallard that ‘knowing, as I do, the interest that you take in
his affairs, and that you recommended him for that [the election], I am
delighted to have been presented with this opportunity to please you’.35
As there were normally several eligible candidates, successive governors or-
dered their secretaries to prepare a dossier on prospective élus analysing their
strengths and weaknesses.36 Making the final decision was a delicate matter,
as the governor would be understandably wary of antagonising prominent
individuals.
Indeed, the list of noble élus confirms that for the great Burgundian
aristocratic clans to be chosen as élu was something of a birthright. Louis
de Pernes, comte d’Epinac, élu in 1671, was succeeded by his son, Georges-
Anne, first gentleman of the duc de Bourbon, in 1709. Amongst the other
families to share the distinction were the Thiard, élus in 1668, 1715 and
1745, the Vienne, 1721 and 1760, the Saulx-Tavanes, 1727, 1751 and 1769,
and the Bourbon-Busset, 1766 and 1787. These families were the cream of
the Burgundian aristocracy, and most could trace their origins back not only
to the glorious days of the Valois dukes, but even beyond.37 The Bourbon-
Busset could even boast of a common kinship with the royal family, having
32 ADCO E 1679, Saint-Florentin to Saulx-Tavanes, 5 May 1747.

33 Ibid ., Saint-Florentin to Saulx-Tavanes, 7 November 1747.
34 BMC AC GB 28, fol. 430, Choiseul-Chevigny to Henri-Jules, 22 November 1697. His request was
accepted.
35 Ibid ., fol. 253, Henri-Jules to Tallard, July 1694.
36 The procedure is explained in a letter from the duc de Bourbon’s secretary, Girard, to Chartraire de
Biere, BMC AC MS 1409, fol. 42, 21 August 1728.
37 Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 26–8. Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 261–3, identified a similar pattern in
the Estates of Artois.
been recognised as the descendants of the illegitimate offspring of Louis
de Bourbon.38 Many of the noble élus had substantial landholdings in
Burgundy, but it is true that they spent a large proportion of their time in
Paris or at Versailles. Aristocratic courtiers and soldiers do not appear as
natural administrators, and when considering possible élus in 1732, the gov-
ernor’s secretary, Girard, remarked that ‘in this triennalité we need someone
who is capable of serving the province usefully, and we can hardly count on
the élu of the nobility whoever it might be’.39 Few knew the Estates better
than Girard, but on this occasion he was a little harsh. To exert influence
on behalf of the Estates it was necessary to possess social status and personal
influence, and like the bishops the noble élus had that in abundance. Most
were familiar with the world of the court, and when required they could
be highly effective ambassadors for their native province.
t h e é lu s o f t h e t h i rd e s tat e
When compared to the illustrious figures who represented the two privi-
leged orders, the élus of the third estate, nearly all of whom were serving
as mayors in the towns of the grande roue, were of comparatively humble
stock (appendix 5). As the famous wheel took thirty-six years to com-
plete its journey, it was predictable that few should enjoy the honour
twice. However, the men who sat in the chamber had much in common.
The overwhelming majority possessed a legal qualification and the title of
conseiller du roi, with many practising, in one capacity or another, as avocats,
procureurs or lieutenants of the local bailliage.40
Within their own communities these were men of substance, and fami-
lies such as the Baudesson of Auxerre, élus in 1727 and 1763, La Ramisse of
Auxonne and Saint-Jean-de-Losne, 1703 and 1757, Champion of Auxerre,
1715 and 1751, Noirot of Chalon-sur-Saône, 1706 and 1784, and Jouard of
Châtillon-sur-Seine, 1715 and 1754, provided several generations of élus.
Many like Georges de Guyon of Avallon, 1679, Henri Silvestre de la Forest
of Montbard, 1712, Claude Martenne of Saint-Jean-de-Losne, 1781, and
Philibert Hugues Gueneau d’Aumont of Semur-en-Auxois, 1787, were al-
ready noble, or well on the way to becoming so.41 Overall, therefore, the
38 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 340.

39 BMC AC 1411, fol. 291, Girard to Chartraire de Montigny, 5 December 1732.
40 In his study of the élus of the third estate in the eighteenth century, Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 33,
found that nineteen out of twenty-five had a legal qualification. Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 403–20,
is the indispensable guide to the social origins and professional activities of the mayors.
41 Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 34.
chamber of the third estate was composed of a relatively narrow section
of the urban elite, and exhibited most of the defining characteristics of an
oligarchy.
The introduction of venality in 1692 ended any lingering element of
popular election, but the mayors were generally resident in their towns,
and they were familiar with the state of the province and the needs of its
people. Through the exercise of their duties they had also acquired valuable
administrative experience. Jean-François Maufoux, for example, mayor of
Beaune and élu in 1775 was simultaneously the respected subdelegate of
the intendant.42 Before the introduction of venality, the mayors were fre-
quently part of the Condéan patronage network, and it was not uncom-
mon to see individuals such as Théodore Chevignard, conseiller secrétaire of
monseigneur le prince, who, in 1679, was serving as the mayor of Beaune.43
The duc de Bourbon was particularly scrupulous in distributing his
patronage, insisting that only the most able and loyal candidates should
receive his blessing. To assist in his deliberations, he ordered his agent in the
province, Chartraire de Montigny, who was also the treasurer general of the
Estates, to compile an elaborate dossier on all of the principal inhabitants
of the towns where he held the power of appointment.44 The result was
the infamous ‘Devil’s register’, containing literally hundreds of entries on
the age, fortune and character of the local population. Antoine Guyton, for
example, a doctor from Autun was described as being thirty-six years of age,
from a good family and an ‘honourable man . . . of sound morals and good
character, [who] has never held office, refuses it, could, however, hold the
place of échevin’.45 Jean Genot, a sixty-year-old bourgeois of Autun received
a less favourable report. He was allegedly possessed of an ‘unstable, even
dangerous character, and having once served for two years as an échevin he
was ‘not fit to hold the office again’.46 Many more cases could be cited,
but what is striking is the care taken by the duc de Bourbon to inform
himself about those who might be worthy of his patronage. Needless to
say, he was equally scrupulous when choosing mayors, and it was only with
his blessing that an aspirant could hope to secure an office. As a result,
after 1696 the chamber of the third estate was more completely under the
tutelage of the governor than either of the privileged orders. Any deputy
who pushed resistance beyond permitted limits risked deposition. When
Bourbon died in 1740 control over the mayors passed to the élus, who were
42 Maufoux’s dual responsibilities eventually caused problems, see chapter 5.

43 ADCO C 3018, fol. 62. 44 BMD MS 2243. The dossier was compiled in 1736.
45 Ibid ., fol. 7. 46 Ibid., fol. 6.
content to perpetuate the existing system in which offices were dominated
by a relatively narrow group of local families.
The social and professional barriers separating the representatives of the
three orders were considerable, but they still possessed traits in common.
By birth or adoption they were Burgundians, proud of their office and the
prestige of the Estates, acting out of a variety of motives including loyalty to
the Condé, family tradition, duty and ambition. As the fierce competition
to be élu demonstrated, the position was highly prized, and it was given
additional gloss by the possibilities it opened for personal gain. According to
a detailed memorandum written during the reign of Louis XVI, probably
by Gueneau d’Aumont, who as mayor of Semur-en-Auxois served as an
alcade in 1781 and as élu in 1787, the élus of the two privileged orders
received 40,289 livres each for their labours.47 As for the representative of
the third estate, he received 26,859 livres, or two-thirds of that paid to his
social betters.48 These were substantial sums at a time when the annual
wage of a day labourer was unlikely to exceed 150 livres. Moreover, these
official payments were not the only ones to find their way into the pockets
of the élus. When abbé Henri Emanuel de Roquette, élu of the clergy in
both 1694 and 1712, prepared to meet his maker, he sought to atone for his
sins. In the codicil to his last will and testament, he wrote:
as I have twice been élu of the province of Burgundy and, following a long es-
tablished practice, I have received certain gifts and bribes that I should not in all
honesty have taken, I beg my executors to restore to the said province of Burgundy
the sum of 10,000 livres . . . [so] that I can die without having my conscience
burdened by assets that do not strictly belong to me.49
With the élus responsible for distributing public works contracts, selling
leases for the farming of indirect taxation and completing tax assessments
it is easy to imagine how Roquette was led into temptation. No doubt
most of his colleagues received similar ‘gifts’ without suffering any moral
qualms. The élus were also the grateful recipients of a ‘purse of jetons’ from
the Estates. The élus of the clergy and the nobility both received 300 jetons
in silver impressed with the arms of the province, and 1,200 in bronze,
while the élu of the third estate could count upon 200 in silver and 800
in bronze.50 Finally, by virtue of their position, they had easy access to the
47 ADCO 1 F 460, ‘Administration de la province de Bourgogne considerée comme paı̈s d’états’. On

the binding is written ‘écrit de la main de M. Gueneau d’Aumont ancien élu général de la province:
depuis sous-prefet de Semur; mort le 27 Août 1814’. That is certainly possible because the memoir
could only have been written by someone with an inside knowledge of the provincial administration.
48 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 202. 49 ADCO C 3056. 50 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 260.
prized fiscal system of the Estates in order to invest their own patrimony,
or that of their relatives, in the provincial debt.
t h e é lu d u r o i
As the representatives of the Estates, the élus of the three orders were the
most powerful and prestigious members of the chamber, but they could
not ignore the opinions of their colleagues. At first glance, the élu du roi
appears as potentially the most troublesome figure, as his role had origi-
nally been to act as the eyes and ears of the Valois dukes.51 He also had
the important advantage of being a permanent member of the chamber,
serving continuously from one triennalité to the next, thus acquiring knowl-
edge and experience denied to the other élus. According to the author of
a memorandum explaining the duties of the office, written in the early
eighteenth century, the scope of his jurisdiction was impressive.52 His key
functions were defined as participating in the deliberations of the chamber
affecting the levy and employment of taxation and ‘all the other affairs of
the province’,53 and preventing ‘anything occurring in the chamber of élus
contrary to the interests of the king and his subjects’.
Such weighty responsibilities, if carried out conscientiously, should have
made the élu du roi a powerful check on the activities of the chamber.
However, as so often under the ancien régime, a position initially intended
for a devoted royal servant had been transformed into a venal office. The
chief beneficiaries were the prominent local robe family, the Richard, who
had first held the post in 1618 and subsequently purchased the office in
1640.54 By 1748, Gilles-Germaine Richard de Ruffey was the sixth member
of his clan to serve in the chamber.55 The ideal of the élu du roi as the fearless
defender of the king’s interests and those of his subjects had, therefore, been
compromised. It is true that Richard de Ruffey did occasionally question
the decisions of his colleagues,56 but his heart was not in the task and in 1748
51 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, p. 169, discusses the origins of the office. The work of F. Dumont, ‘L’élu
du roi aux états de Bourgogne’, in Droit privé et institutions régionales. Études historiques offertes à
J. Yver (Paris, 1976), pp. 197–207, should also be consulted.
52 ADCO C 3059, ‘Mémoire touchant la charge d’élu pour le roi aux états de Bourgogne’. This was
deposited in the archives on 7 July 1789, but had been written before 1750. A second memoir AN
G7 166, fol. 27, ‘Mémoire concernant les états de Bourgogne’, is also helpful.
53 ADCO C 3059, ‘Mémoire touchant la charge’. 54 Ibid.
55 The only interruption to their reign came after the premature death of Gérard Richard in 1682. Until
his son came of age in 1694, the duties of the office were exercised by his relatives Prosper Baüyn
(1682–89) and Jean Quarré (1689–94).
56 A good example is his quarrel with the other élus in 1742–3 which earned him a rebuke from the
ministry, see BMD MS 1738, fol. 6, Saint-Florentin to the comte de Saulx-Tavanes, 19 December
1742, and ibid., fol. 10, Saint-Florentin to Richard de Ruffey, 7 February 1743.
he sold his office to Jean-Baptiste Voisenet.57 As the mayor of Semur-en-
Auxois, he was an unlikely candidate for such a prestigious post, but he was
already close to Richard de Ruffey and had the priceless advantage of being
élu of the third estate for the triennalité of 1745–8.58 His enhanced status
helped to overcome any doubts about his background at Versailles, and in
May 1748 the comte de Saint-Florentin gave permission for the sale.59
This did not mark the arrival of a new administrative dynasty, and in a
dramatic coup the intendant, Jean-François Joly de Fleury, bought the office
from Voisenet in 1754.60 He had high hopes of dominating the chamber of
élus, but within four years the Estates had broken his spirit and he agreed
to sell the office to them. They in turn sold it on to the Bureau des Finances
of Dijon, and thereafter members of that corps held it in strict rotation.
That the crown took no further interest in the choice of the élu du roi
was the perfect illustration of how the original purpose of the office had
been corrupted. As for the members of the Bureau des Finances, they could
contribute, or not, as they saw fit to the administration of the province,
and pocket their ‘fees’ (taxations) of 17,700 livres without any particular
concern for the interests of the monarch.
t h e vi co m t e - m aye u r o f d i j o n a nd t h e d e pu t i e s
o f t h e c h a m b re d e s co m pt e s
The vicomte-mayeur of Dijon was another a permanent member of the
chamber of élus. Unlike the mayors of the smaller towns, the vicomte-mayeur
was elected, although the franchise was increasingly restricted after 1692
and the incumbents subsequently served for life. Nine individuals held
the office between 1662 and 1692 and several, including François Baudot,
Bénigne Boullier and Jean Joly, were elected on more than one occasion
(see appendix 6).61 Thereafter the office changed hands less frequently,
and only thirteen mayors served between 1692 and the revolution. How-
ever, throughout the period there was a great deal of continuity in terms
of their social and professional backgrounds. François Baudot, who was
vicomte-mayeur from 1694 to 1703, had already served a term of office in
57 Thereafter Richard de Ruffey devoted his energies to literary and cultural matters, Bouchard, De
l’humanisme, p. 626.
58 It was Richard de Ruffey who had backed Voisenet’s bid for the office of mayor in 1740, BMD
MS 1738, fol. 2, Saint-Florentin to Richard de Ruffey, 26 November 1740.
59 Ibid., fol. 14, Saint-Florentin to Richard de Ruffey, 26 May 1748.
60 This important episode has been examined by Dumont, ‘L’élu du roi’, and is discussed further in
chapter 8.
61 ADCO 1 F 614, fol. 145. Ford, Robe and sword, pp. 140–1, supplies details for the period 1700–50.
the period 1691–2. His relative Philippe Baudot’s tenure as vicomte-mayeur
from 1729–31 was cut short by his premature death, but he was not the only
one to inherit the mantle of his forefathers. Étienne Baudinot, in office
from 1714 to 1728, was the descendant of Benôit-Palamades Baudinot, who
had twice presided over the affairs of the city.
Looked at as a whole, the twenty-one mayors to serve from 1662 to
1789 formed a recognisably homogeneous social and professional group,
albeit one that was gradually becoming more distinguished. Four avocats
were elected before 167862 but none thereafter, and they were replaced by
members of the great law courts. No fewer than seven were councillors in the
Parlement of Dijon, four were drawn from the benches of the Chambre des
Comptes and two were members of the Bureau des Finances. The others all
possessed the prestigious legal office of lieutenant général in the bailliage of
Dijon. Taken as a whole, the vicomte-mayeurs were all established members
of Dijon’s robe elite, albeit not from the great dynasties such as the Berbisey,
Bouhier, Fyot or Macheco.
As we might expect, the importance of the vicomte-mayeur to both the
Estates and the city meant that the governor’s influence was usually decisive
in the election. The duc de Bourbon, in particular, was careful not only
to choose well-qualified mayors, but even to change them on occasion in
order to encourage ‘competition’.63 The mayors could be in no doubt about
the need to preserve their credit with the governor, and the effects could
be dramatic if his favour was lost. Guillaume Raviot, vicomte-mayeur from
1770 to 1783, provided an excellent example of the procedure involved. He
was recommended to the governor by the provincial commandant, Phillipe-
Antoine de La Tour du Pin de Gouvernet, and his subsequent services were
so appreciated by the prince de Condé that he agreed to be named as the
‘godfather by proxy’ of Raviot’s son.64 Yet despite his powerful connections,
Raviot was dismissed in 1784 after falling foul of the intendant, Feydeau de
Brou.65 At first glance this would seem to suggest a decline in the governor’s
influence, especially as his replacement was Pierre-François Gauthier, a man
who did not enjoy the prince’s confidence. Such hasty judgements should
be avoided. After inspecting the logis du roi, the governor’s official residence
in Dijon, without first obtaining clearance from Chantilly, the new mayor
was sacked. He had spent just six months in office.66 His replacement was
62 ADCO 1 F 614, fol. 145. They were Jacques de Frasans, Pierre Guillaume, Bénigne Boullier and
Pierre Monin.
63 BMC AC 1409, fol. 47. 64 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 214.
65 Ibid ., p. 215, and L. Gueneau, ‘Maire et intendant: la révocation du vicomte-mayeur de Dijon Raviot
(1784)’, Annales de Bourgogne (1929), 133–6.
Louis Moussier, who had the explicit backing of the prince de Condé, and
he served without interruption until the revolution.
Membership of the chamber of élus was completed by the presence of two
deputies, usually a president and a master of accounts, from the Chambre
des Comptes of Dijon. They served for one triennalité only on a rotating
basis, and neither the king nor the governor had any direct influence over
their appointment. The presence of members of the Chambre des Comptes
dated back to at least the fifteenth century, and was an accepted part of the
administrative scene.67 There was, however, occasional grumbling about
the role of the court in auditing the accounts of the Estates, a task for
which it was handsomely rewarded.68 Resentment of the costs incurred
led some to argue that the participation of the two deputies in the levy of
taxation was incompatible with their primary duty as auditors.69 As one
acerbic commentator remarked, they should be excluded from the chamber
of élus because, after all, they had first been admitted in bygone days when
the other élus had trouble counting.70 The Estates thought rather more
highly of their services, and like the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon each deputy
received fees of 10,200 livres for the triennalité, plus 100 silver and 400
bronze jetons as their official recompense.71
Taken as a whole, the seven élus offered a reasonable cross-section of the
province’s elites. The nobility of robe and sword as well as the more modest
mayors of the principal towns all sat side-by-side in the chamber. While
many undoubtedly had ties of loyalty, even ‘fidélité’, to the governor, they
were assured of a degree of independence which derived from, amongst
other things, their own corporate or professional backgrounds, traditions
of family service, personal knowledge of the province, and, perhaps most
importantly, the pride of representing the Estates General of Burgundy.
The men who sat in the chamber of élus after 1662 were not the isolated
monks or provincial squires whose caricatures feature in so many accounts
of the provincial administration. Most had the social status and practical
experience needed to face both the king’s ministers and their own officials
with equanimity.
t h e pe r m a n e n t o ff i c e rs
The permanent officers of the Estates with the right of entry to the chamber
of élus were the treasurer general, two secrétaires des états, two procureurs
67 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, pp. 169–71. 68 See chapters 7 and 12.
69 BMD MS 2073, f. 2, ‘Remarques sur la chambre des élus de Bourgogne’.
70 Ibid. 71 ADCO 1 F 460, f. 202, 260.
syndics, three conseils des états and, in the eighteenth century, the provincial
engineer-in-chief. Before 1742, these officials were all appointed by the
Estates, which in practice meant ratifying the decision of either the governor
or the élus. All of this changed with the règlement of 1742, which reserved the
right of appointment to the king. Bitterly resented, it would be the target of
unremitting opposition until the revolution.72 Given the authority wielded
by these officials the concern of the Estates was understandable because
together they formed the kernel of the administration.
t h e t re a s u re r g e n e ral
As the need to raise money was almost a prerequisite for the continued
survival of the Estates, the role of the treasurer general became increasingly
important once the wars of Louis XIV began in earnest. In 1684, Antoine
Chartraire replaced his uncle, François Bazin, as treasurer general, marking
the arrival of a dynasty that would jealously guard control over the financial
affairs of the Estates until the revolution (see appendix 7).73 It was Bazin
who, in 1671, had united two offices that had previously been held by
Antoine Bossuet, brother of the celebrated bishop, and Thomas Bertier,
respectively receivers alternatif and ancien of the Estates. In 1652, Bossuet
had paid 65,729 livres for the office of receveur ancien,74 while Bertier,
who had previously been one of the two secrétaires des états, had invested
75,000 livres for that of receveur alternatif . Bazin, in turn, paid the widow
Bertier 72,310 livres in June 1671, a price that was still quoted in 1711, which
suggests that this nominal figure had been maintained as a deliberate family
strategy when Antoine Chartraire took over from his uncle in 1684. It proved
to be an excellent investment, and four generations of the Chartraire family
would reap the rewards.
When Marc-Antoine Chartraire de Montigny died prematurely in 1750,
the attendant disorder in his affairs allowed the crown to intervene with
the declaration of 30 July 1752, fixing the price and gages of the office of
treasurer general.75 The official valuation was set at 600,000 livres, and the
gages at an annual rate of denier 60 (1.633 per cent), a paltry sum even when
compared with the rentes issued by the Estates that were rarely below denier
72 An issue discussed in chapter 8.

73 For details of the transfer, see: AN H1 123, dos. 1, fol. 1, ‘Mémoire au sujet de la charge de trésorier
général de la province de Bourgogne’. The text dates from either 1750 or 1752.
74 Ibid .
75 ADCO C 3452, ‘Déclaration du roi du 30 Juillet 1752, qui confirme tous les finances ci-devant payées
par les officiers comptables dépendants des états généraux de Bourgogne’.
20 (5 per cent). Fortunately for the Chartraire, the real value of the office
lay elsewhere, in the fees and other benefits associated with almost total
control of the local fiscal system, and the handling of vast sums of money
on behalf of the Estates.
The treasurer received a percentage of the sums he advanced to the crown,
notably 1 per cent of the proceeds of the taille, four deniers per livre of the
capitation and vingtièmes, ten livres per 1,000 livres of loans raised by the
province and a variable sum, around 1.5 per cent of loans contracted for
the king using the credit of the Estates. Two separate memoranda prepared
during the reign of Louis XVI estimated that the treasurer earned between
100,000 and 150,000 livres annually from these fees, depending upon the
amount of taxation levied.76 Moreover, the crown’s increasing reliance upon
loans raised using provincial credit could lead to some spectacular windfalls.
According to one, admittedly rather hostile witness, Necker’s borrowing
spree netted Antoine Chartraire de Montigny 240,000 livres in 1778–9
alone.77 In reality, the director of finances had reduced the percentage paid
to Chartraire, who was fortunate to receive half that amount.78 Even so,
these were fabulous sums, and they were only the legitimate, official rewards
of the office. It is well known that before 1789 access to the fiscal system
offered plenty of scope for less scrupulous enrichment, and it would be
remarkable indeed if the Chartraire had not capitalised upon their position.
However, the role of the treasurer was not without risk, and it is important
to remember that he was obliged to raise millions of livres, often at very
short notice, and frequently during wars or periods of natural disaster, when
normal sources of revenue were exhausted. By the eighteenth century, the
Chartraire had developed networks of credit throughout France and even
as far afield as Italy and Geneva.79
When examined over the century as a whole, the Chartraire provided a
classic example of social ascension. Moreover, their rise, like that of earlier
treasurers, was intimately linked to service for the governor. Before acquir-
ing the office of treasurer general, François Bazin had served as a receiver
of ‘land revenues’ for the Condé in Burgundy, and he had enjoyed the title
of commensaux in their household.80 His predecessor, Thomas Bertier, on
the other hand, was one of the secrétaires ordinaires of the Grand Condé, so
76 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 250, and ADCO C 3485, ‘Des droits attribuées au trésorier général des états;
aux quinze receveurs particuliers des bailliages, et à celui qui est chargé de faire le recouvrement des
crües sur le sel’.
77 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 250. 78 Ibid.
79 Potter and Rosenthal, ‘Politics and public finance’, 594–600, and BMD MS 1945, ‘Correspondance
de Cousin de Méricourt’.
80 Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 212, 400.
it was hardly surprising that Antoine Chartraire, who was not initially the
governor’s favoured candidate, was obliged to integrate into the Condéan
clientèle as a condition of his succeeding Bazin in 1684. As Katia Béguin has
explained, Antoine’s son, François, was installed as one of the commensaux
in what at first sight appears to be a form of medieval hostage taking.81 The
reality, while less melodramatic, was nevertheless decisive for the future of
the Chartraire. Once under the Condéan wing they had the opportunity
to prove their loyalty, and reaped their reward in 1709 when François was
able to succeed his father as treasurer general.
By then the family had put down deep roots in the tight network of
families that surrounded the governor. François married the daughter of
Louis Girard, sieur du Thil, who was the nephew and heir of Jean Perrault,
the financier whose immense wealth and fanatical loyalty had funded the
Grand Condé’s armies during the Fronde.82 Her death was followed by a
second marriage, this time to Bénigne de La Michodière, whose brother,
Claude, was chef du conseil of the duc de Bourbon. Both François and his
son, Marc-Antoine, who succeeded him as treasurer general in 1728, were
the faithful servants of the duc de Bourbon, with both men acting as his
intendant in the province. Thus the most powerful officer in the fiscal
administration of the Estates helped direct the network through which an
absentee governor controlled the affairs of the province.83 Before the death
of the duc de Bourbon in 1740, it was highly unlikely that anything of
import discussed in the chamber of élus escaped the attention of Chantilly.
That grip was relaxed during the subsequent interregnum, but after 1754
the prince de Condé picked up the reins of his father and continued to rely
upon the services of the Chartraire.
As time passed, the Chartraire gradually built up an impressive portfolio
of lands, offices and marriage alliances within the province. Originally
from the region of Semur-en-Auxois, by 1789 they possessed a château with
a substantial estate as well as hôtels in Dijon and Paris.84 The office of
lieutenant of the town and fortress of Semur-en-Auxois was maintained in
the family, and the younger son of François Chartraire was a président à
mortier in the Parlement of Dijon and married into the robe dynasty of
Bouhier. Meanwhile their relative, Guy Chartraire de Saint Aignan, another
financier and a protégé of the duc de Bourbon, was a councillor in the
same court. By the mid-eighteenth century, they were securely integrated
into the local robe nobility, and the treasurer general had every reason
81 Ibid ., pp. 214–15. 82 Ibid., pp. 112–46, 188–231, 242–3, 410, 433.
83 As the work of Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’ has argued.
84 Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, p. 121.
to feel at ease in the chamber of élus. His professional knowledge and
expertise were enhanced by his credentials as a favourite of the governor
and by ties of kinship with powerful local families. Not surprisingly, the
treasurer enjoyed the confidence of the Estates, and he was frequently
asked to undertake negotiations with ministers, or take responsibility for
complicated administrative tasks, on their behalf.
t h e s e c r é ta i re s d e s é tats
Similar claims can be made on behalf of the two secrétaires des états, whose
importance to the administrative life of the province equalled that of the
treasurer general in the financial sphere. The original office of secrétaire was
as old as the Estates themselves, and it was not until 1631 that a second
office was created.85 Each officer was responsible for a bureau charged with
a number of specific tasks, including the preparation of the tax rolls and
the collation and recording of the deliberations and correspondence of
the élus. The secrétaires were also appointed as the commissioners of the
chamber, and were responsible for the drawing of lots for the provincial
militia, inspecting public works and overseeing the military étapes. Many
other duties could be added to this list, and like the treasurer they were
frequently asked to act as intermediaries shuttling between Dijon, Chantilly
and Versailles on provincial business.
The importance of the secrétaires was reflected in the price of their offices,
and as early as 1631 they had been valued at 50,000 livres for the secrétaire
ancien and 55,000 livres for the alternatif .86 By 1750, that had risen to
64,000 and 97,000 livres respectively, although it is important to note that
these were rates fixed by the Estates, with the consent of the crown, and a
free market price would almost certainly have been higher.87 When a third
office was established in 1752, it too was valued at 97,000 livres, which
was double the going rate for the office of councillor in the Parlement of
Paris.88
In return for these substantial investments, the secrétaires received a gage
at an annual rate of denier 20, plus the payment of fees for their services
and other gifts and pensions from the Estates themselves. In theory, the
incumbents served in alternate years, a result of the second office being
a financial expedient from the age of Richelieu, but in practice after 1661
85 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, p. 176. They were often referred to as greffiers.

86 AN H1 123, dos. 2, fol. 98. 87 AN H1 123, dos. 1, fol. 23.
88 F. Bluche, Les magistrats du parlement de Paris au XVIIIe siècle, 2nd edn (Paris, 1986), p. 118–23.
both men were fully occupied, even if their fees and other ‘gratifications’
continued to reflect the original imbalance. In 1752, for example, they were
fixed at 4,695 livres for the ‘year in service’ and 1,041 livres for the ‘year
out of service’,89 and by the 1780s that had risen to 6,000 and 7,900 livres
respectively.90 When we add the income received from their gages these
were by no means trifling sums, and they only represent the most obvious
rewards of the office. Nor was prosperity to be measured in livres alone.
No less important was access to the governor and to ministers in Versailles
who could assist in the search for further preferment.
In 1661, the offices were held by Guillaume Despringle, secrétaire alter-
natif , and Denis Rigoley, secrétaire ancien (see appendix 8). Despringle was
an avocat in the Parlement from a noble family who had succeeded Thomas
Bertier after his purchase of a part share of the office of treasurer general.
In 1674, Despringle sold his office to Benoı̂t Julien. Interestingly Julien had
been élu of the third estate since 1671, and he was ideally placed to win
the approval of the governor when the opportunity arose. His family had
provided élus on several previous occasions, and was not without distinc-
tion as the cadet branch of a local noble family.91 When Benoı̂t died in
1685, his son Jacques was appointed to replace him, despite the fact that
he was not old enough to assume his duties until 1689.92 Jacques Julien
served the Estates for the rest of his life, and when he died in 1725 it was his
son-in-law, Claude-Charles Bernard de Blancey who replaced him.93 He
too was a member of a local noble family, and his ancestor, Jean Bernard,
had been an infantry captain and an écuyer of Catherine de Medici.94 He
proved a stalwart servant of the province, as did his son André Jean Bernard
de Chanteau. Between them the two men occupied the office of secrétaire
des états until 1785. From then until the revolution, the office was held by
Balthazar Girard de la Brély, a gifted avocat from the Dauphiné, who had
previously served in the same capacity for the états particuliers of Mâcon.95
His experience in that role had won him admirers, notably the powerful
local bishop who had facilitated his rise.
As for Denis Rigoley, he had first acquired the office of secrétaire ancien
in 1661, and he also succeeded in passing it on to his son Claude, who was
89 ADCO C 3414, ‘Délibération qui égale et fixe les droits, revenus et emoluments des trois greffiers
et secrétaires en chef des états’.
90 ADCO C 3302, remarques of the alcades (1781), and 1 F 460, fol. 218.
91 Beaune and Arbaumont, La noblesse aux États de Bourgogne, pp. 214–15.
92 They were carried out by Rigoley during the interim.
93 ADCO C 3043, fol. 91. 94 Beaune and Arbaumont, Noblesse de Bourgogne, p. 127.
95 Roussot, Un comté adjacent, p. 215, and H. Richard, ‘Nouveaux documents sur les états de Bourgogne
(1787), à propos d’une lettre de Girard-Labrely’, Annales de Bourgogne 69 (1997), 69.
an important link in the Condéan network in Burgundy.96 Throughout
thirty-nine years of steadfast service, Claude was in constant contact with
successive governors, acting as their valued agent in the province.97 When
Henri-Jules was too ill to attend the Estates of 1697, Rigoley was expected
to send him a daily journal of events, while acting as a chaperone for his
son. As the governor described matters:
I have told my son of the confidence that I have in you, it is important that you tell
him everything affecting the business of the Estates and of how I am accustomed
to administer them either for the form or the substance.98
While ensuring the necessary continuity between father and son, Rigoley
was thus introduced as an adviser to the young duc. When the Estates
were not in session, he continued to receive orders from the governor. As
the élus sought to resolve the thorny issues raised by the introduction of the
system of venality for the office of mayor, Henri-Jules demanded to be kept
abreast of the progress of the relevant law, as well as ‘what the Parlement,
mayors and the public say of it’.99 He was worried that the mayors would
escape from the tutelage of the élus, and he informed Rigoley that ‘it is
necessary to sustain the élus and to make the mayors understand that they
should not have pretensions that I have [already] disapproved of during
the Estates’. Here is a perfect illustration of how the agents of the governor
were expected to keep their master informed and to act as conduits for his
orders.
The confidence Henri-Jules placed in Rigoley was demonstrated by his
willingness to consult him on the most sensitive matters. In 1699, no less a
figure than the marquis de Lassay, began to petition the governor in order
to be chosen as the next élu of the nobility. Henri-Jules was unsure:
he claims to possess a fief, and that his affairs are in order in this respect, but I am
unsure if being lieutenant du roi in the Bresse is not an exclusion . . . [and,] above
all, if he is capable of holding this post.100
As a precaution, the prince had scrawled ‘speak to no one of this’ at the
bottom of his letter. To a large extent the ambitions of the marquis de
Lassay depended upon the good opinion of Rigoley, who did, in fact, find
the necessary proofs to support his claim.101 At the Estates of 1700 the
96 ADCO C 2997, fol. 25, and Smith, The government of Burgundy, p. 38, n. 18.
97 Part of their correspondence is housed in the BMD MS 2239–40.
98 BMD MS 2239, fol. 426, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, July 1697.
99 Ibid ., fol. 436, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 24 July 1697.
100 BMD MS 2240, fol. 107, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 12 November 1699.
101 Ibid ., fol. 114, Rigoley to Henri-Jules, 26 November 1699.
marquis proudly took his place as the incoming élu of the nobility. The
favour would later be returned, and one of Rigoley’s sons would serve as a
captain in Lassay’s regiment.102
Rigoley helped the prince to decide on other less exalted matters of
patronage, and more than once he was able to advance the interests of
his relatives in the process.103 He also reaped a rich personal return for his
labours. In 1685, he asked Henri-Jules for permission to buy the office of
secrétaire du roi. The governor replied graciously: ‘I happily consent to your
desire to acquire the office of secrétaire in the grande chancellerie provided
that it is not incompatible with your duties in Burgundy and does not oblige
you to reside outside of the province’.104 Once his noble credentials had
been polished with a little ‘soap for scum’, he was ready for better things,
and in 1712 the governor secured for him the prestigious position of first
president in the Chambre des Comptes. His son, Denis Claude, was then
installed in his father’s berth as secrétaire des états, where he would serve for
nearly forty years.105 The Rigoley family had thus established themselves
within the robe elite, and it was no coincidence that Claude’s first wife was
none other than Anne-Madeleine Chartraire de St-Aignan, consolidating
an alliance that would serve both clans well. After her death he remarried,
this time to Odette-Thérèse Languet, whose father Guillaume had been a
councillor of the Grand Condé and one of the financiers in the circle of his
principal banker, Jean Perrault.106
What becomes clear from this tangled web of relationships is that the
key offices of treasurer general and secrétaire des états were held by closely
connected dynasties whose ascent had, in large measure, been facilitated by
their membership of the governor’s clientèle. The accumulation of power
in the hands of the Chartraire and Rigoley families almost inevitably at-
tracted jealousy and criticism. Throughout the eighteenth century there
were rumblings of discontent about the profits made by the treasurer gen-
eral in particular,107 and when tragedy struck in 1750, with the untimely
death of Marc-Antoine Chartraire de Montigny, many of these underlying
tensions were brought out into the open. His son and designated successor
was only a child, and it was necessary to concoct a strategy that would pro-
tect his inheritance from those who hoped to take advantage of the family’s
misfortune.
102 Béguin, Princes de Condé, p. 435.
103 BMD MS 2239, fols. 128, 140, Rigoley to Henri-Jules, 15 October and 23 December 1684.
104 Ibid ., fol. 164, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 24 December 1685.
105 Béguin, Princes de Condé, p. 435. 106 Ibid., p. 425.
107 In 1742, one of the censored remarques of the alcades had called for a reduction in the payments to
the treasurer, and this would be repeated by a variety of official and unofficial critics until 1789.
The task was rendered doubly difficult by the problems in the Condé
household, where the young prince was still a minor, and much de-
pended on the attitude of the contrôleur général, Jean-Baptiste Machault
d’Arnouville. Initially the Chartraire proposed that the office be transferred
to Antoine Chartraire de Montigny, with Nicolas Seguin, the long-serving
receiver of the taille of Dijon, acting as his commis under the financial
caution of Antoine’s uncles.108 The élus, the intendant and the provincial
commandant all threw their weight behind this arrangement, but Machault
was unconvinced. He rejected the suggestion, and instead ordered Denis
Rigoley de Mypon, the brother-in-law of the deceased treasurer general,
to assume the office on behalf of his nephew.109 Rigoley had been serv-
ing as secrétaire des états for nearly forty years, and his experience made
him an ideal replacement. As part of the arrangement another of Rigoley’s
nephews was given the survivance on his office of secrétaire des états, which
was in turn to be exercised by Jacques Varenne, hitherto one of the three
conseils des états.110 After much hard bargaining, the Chartraire and Rigoley
clans could congratulate themselves on having successfully traversed a crisis.
Their relief was short-lived. In May 1752 Rigoley de Mypon died.
With no obvious candidate to succeed him and the usually decisive in-
fluence of the Condé still absent, matters were now grave, and they were
made worse by the realisation that all was not well with the inheritance
of Marc-Antoine Chartraire de Montigny.111 The problem was largely one
of liquidity brought about by his extravagant building programmes, and
despite the value of his property, investments and other fixed assets it would
not have been an exaggeration to talk of bankruptcy. There was a substan-
tial sum of several hundred thousand livres owing to the province, and
the ambitious glimpsed an opportunity to topple the Chartraire-Rigoley
clan from its lucrative perch. In order to defend themselves, the incum-
bents had to come up with a viable candidate quickly, and on 24 May Jean
Rigoley de Puligny, first president of the Chambre des Comptes, wrote to
Machault proposing his nephew, Claude-Jean Rigoley d’Ogny, son of the
recently deceased Rigoley de Mypon.112 A twenty-seven-year-old councillor
108 AN H1 123, fols. 49, 51, 52, 53.

109 ADCO C 3354, fol. 145, Machault to the élus, 1 May 1750, and C 3361, fols. 101–3, the élus to
Machault, Saint-Florentin and the marquis d’Anlezy, 27 April 1750. It is worth noting that the élus
were sending details of their actions to the young prince’s governor, d’Anlezy.
110 These details were set out in a long letter from the minister, ADCO C 3361, fol. 106, Saint-Florentin
to the élus, 14 June 1750.
111 AN H1 123, dos. 1, fols. 1–23, dos 2, fols. 1–103, are a vital source for the history of the crisis, and
offer an insight into the complicated financial affairs of the treasurer general.
112 AN H1 123, dos 2, fol. 75, Rigoley de Puligny to Machault, 24 May 1752.
in the Parlement of Dijon, he had no direct knowledge of financial affairs,
although Rigoley de Puligny argued that he had been kept informed by
his father and that he would lend his own expertise, some thirty-six years
as first president of the Chambre des Comptes, where necessary. Clearly
aware that there would be no shortage of alternative candidates, Rigoley
de Puligny also sent several letters to Machault’s first commis, Clautrier,
who was charged with reporting on the qualities of the candidates to the
minister.113 He claimed that his nephew had widespread support, adding
that ‘I have written proof from all the orders of the province, and in particu-
lar the receivers [of the taille], the people of town and country are united in
seeing this favour as a comfort for them in the loss they have sustained’.114
The idea of the taxpayers of Burgundy lamenting the misfortunes of the
Chartraire clan stretches credulity to its limits, and, in reality, the united
front of royal and local officials present in 1750 had collapsed.
The intendant, Jean-François Joly de Fleury, informed the first commis
that ‘I wish fervently that he [Machault] would cast his eyes upon
M. Talon: the fear of a foreigner is based upon nothing more than the
desire to keep things hidden; confidence will not be affected because
the treasurer resides [in the province]’.115 A number of other candidates
were proposed,116 and within the province there were at least four experi-
enced figures that put themselves forward. While Rigoley de Mypon was on
his deathbed, Carrelet, receveur général of the taillon, was already outlining
his own credentials to Machault.117 Nicolas Seguin, receiver of the taille in
Dijon, offered himself as treasurer general in his own right, as did Jacques
Varenne, who had been acting as secrétaire des états since 1750.118 Another
to throw his hat into the ring was Baüyn, whose family had provided an
élu du roi during the late seventeenth century, and who possessed what
he hoped would be a trump card, namely a common grandmother with
the contrôleur général.119 Finally, other vultures were circling, hoping to take
advantage of the crisis. Claude Marlot, vicomte-mayeur of Dijon, contacted
Machault in order to offer his services as secrétaire des états in the event that
Varenne became treasurer general.120
113 AN H1 123, dos. 1, piece 11, Rigoley de Puligny to Clautrier, 25 May 1752.
114 Ibid . 115 AN H1 123, dos. 1, piece 8, Joly de Fleury to Clautrier, 20 May 1752.
116 See: AN H1 123, dos. 2, fol. 62, Charolais to Machault, 14 May 1752, and ibid., fol. 55, chevalier de
Grieu to Machault, May 1752.
117 Ibid ., fol. 64, Carrelet to Machault, 13 May 1752.
118 Ibid ., fol. 70, Marlot to Machault, 24 May 1752.
119 Ibid ., fol. 77, Baüyn to Machault, 15 May 1752.
120 Ibid ., fol. 70, Marlot to Machault, 24 May 1752.
With what appeared to be the first cracks in the ruling dynasties for nearly
a century, it is easy to imagine the excitement and bitterness generated
amongst those scrabbling for preferment. Joly de Fleury, who continued to
campaign on behalf of his relative, Talon, described the feuds amongst the
élus in withering terms.121 According to his account, the bishop of Dijon, élu
of the clergy, detested Varenne, while the comte de Saulx, his counterpart
from the chamber of the noblesse, favoured Seguin. As for his own view
of the candidates, the intendant claimed that Rigoley d’Ogny lacked the
necessary experience, while Chartraire de Bourbon, who had the skills but
not the vocation, was ‘too slavishly devoted to the House of Condé’.122
Seguin was dismissed as too humble, and if his own preference for Talon
was overlooked then Carrelet or Varenne should be chosen.
Division and discord were the order of the day, and perhaps the only thing
the feuding parties, with the exception of the intendant, could agree upon
was that the final decision should favour a suitably qualified Burgundian.123
Their wish was granted, and in June Machault approved the appointment
of Rigoley d’Ogny. He would serve as treasurer general until 1770, when
Antoine Chartraire de Montigny finally came of age. In agreement with the
élus, the minister also sanctioned a generous settlement with the Chartraire
that in effect allowed them several years to amortise their debts and re-
establish order in their financial affairs.124 The principal concern of all those
involved was to protect public confidence in the financial management of
the Estates, but the Chartraire could count themselves doubly fortunate to
have escaped bankruptcy and to have fought off their rivals for the office
of treasurer general.
The final chapter in the drama concerned the offices of secrétaire des
états. Although not chosen as treasurer, Varenne had won the respect of
the ministers in Versailles and of the intendant, and he used that credit
to persuade them to authorise the creation of a third office in November
1752 as he was currently no more than temporary replacement for yet
another young Rigoley.125 The experiment with the extra secrétaire proved
short-lived. Varenne’s over zealous defence of the interests of the Estates
121 Ibid ., fol. 47, Joly de Fleury to Machault, 30 April 1752.
122 Ibid ., fol. 66, Joly de Fleury to Machault, 18 May 1752.
123 For a good example of their thinking, see AN H1 123, dos. 1, fol. 13, comte de Saulx to Clautrier, 11
May 1752.
124 AN H1 123, dos. 2, fols. 100, 103.
125 On this occasion for Rigoley de Puligny, grandson of the first president of the Chambre de Comptes.
AN H1 123, dos. 2, fol. 48, ‘Mémoire’ (this was probably written by the intendant, Joly de Fleury),
and ADCO C 3361, fol. 152, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 18 August 1752. The letters patent were
dated 2 November 1752.
in a quarrel with the Parlement of Dijon led to his forced resignation in
1763, and the office was suppressed.126 Once the dust had settled, there was
only one more significant change before the revolution, and that was the
resignation of Rigoley de Puligny in 1769. He assumed the office of first
president of the Chambre des Comptes, marking the end of his family’s long
presence in the provincial administration.127 He was replaced by Nicolas-
Claude Rousselot, vicomte-mayeur of Dijon, a protégé of the prince de
Condé, who was still in place in 1789.128
From this discussion it becomes clear that the secrétaires des états were
a tight-knit group, owing their good fortune to the favour of the Condé,
and holding on to their offices with great tenacity. They were men of talent
and experience, and it was common for individuals to serve for decades,
simultaneously preparing the next generation through the flexible use of the
system of survivance. After 1750, for example, the élus permitted Bernard
de Chanteau to work alongside his father and to deputise for him in his
absence.129 Similarly Rousselot secured the survivance on his office for his
son-in-law, who helped to share the administrative burden after 1773. In
the course of their labours, the secrétaires accumulated an enormous range
of skills, knowledge and experience, and they were certainly qualified to
run the provincial administration if the élus allowed them to do so.
t h e l e g a l o ff i ce rs
If the treasurer general directed financial affairs and the secrétaires the
administration, the two procureurs syndics and three conseils des états pro-
vided the legal firepower. Traditionally these officers were chosen from
amongst the procureurs and avocats of Dijon, and these highly qualified
professional lawyers brought considerable expertise to the chamber.130 The
procureurs syndics swore an oath to defend the province’s privileges whether
before the king’s council, his law courts, the chamber of élus or the Estates
assembled.131 They were also responsible for pursuing legal cases, or other
like matters, resulting from the deliberations of the élus.132 A few examples
126 See chapter 9.
127 ADCO C 3363, fol. 44, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 12 October 1769. The Rigoley had been struck
by a series of untimely deaths which left them with little alternative.
128 ADCO C 3363, fol. 169, the élus to Condé, 18 May 1773, and Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’,
p. 193, n. 49.
129 ADCO C 3005, fol. 38, and C 3302.
130 The recruitment of the procureurs syndics and conseils is discussed in a memoir prepared by the
procureurs of Dijon, dated 2 January 1776, ADCO C 3417.
131 BMD MS 2285, fol. 149, ‘Notes sur les états de Bourgogne’.
132 According to the terms of the royal règlement of 1744, BMD MS 981, fol. 135.
help to provide an indication of the scope of their activities. When, in
1667, Antoine Bossuet, joint treasurer of the Estates, sought to deflect part
of his loss of some 230,000 livres, resulting from the flight of one of his
employees, on to the province, it was the procureurs syndics who defended
the interests of the Estates before the king’s council.133 Similarly they could
appeal to the royal council against the decisions of a Parlement, bailliage or
other court, as well as prepare legal requêtes and memoirs for the Estates.134
Thus, in December 1705, the procureur syndic, Nicholas Guenichot, was
sent to court with instructions to pursue a variety of lawsuits, notably one
against the farmers of the gabelle.135 Not that he would have completely free
rein because the élus were careful to stipulate that he should act ‘following
the orders that he shall receive from His Serene Highness’. Finally, it was
the procureurs syndics who liaised with both the Parlement of Dijon and the
local intendant, not only about legal matters, but also those affecting the
administration of the province.
The conseils des états, on the other hand, were experienced avocats who
assisted the governor and the members of the administration with legal
counsel. In 1713, the duc de Bourbon was working hard to reduce the
number of receivers of the taille in the bailliage of Autun, and he was
determined to have the necessary arms to stave off opposition. In a letter
to the conseil des états, Boillot, he wrote:
on your arrival in Burgundy, I order you to begin work immediately researching
the rights and privileges of the Estates, [those of] the élus and other subjects which
might be useful to the province, in the original deeds and records to be found in
the archives of the Estates.136
His orders on this occasion were typical of the activities of the conseils, whose
consultations were a vital weapon in the defence of provincial privilege. The
conseils also enjoyed the honour of presenting their remarques, drafted in
consultation with the procureurs syndics, to the triennial assemblies of the
Estates.137 These were weighty and impressive documents, primarily con-
cerned with advancing ideas for the modification of Burgundian law or
judicial procedure. The Estates were not obliged to act on their recommen-
dations, but the authority of the province’s legal experts usually guaranteed
that their advice was heeded.
133 BMD MS 1282, ‘Procès intenté par les procureurs syndics des états de Bourgogne à Antoine Bossuet’.
134 ADCO C 3363, fol. 96, Amelot to the élus, 9 March 1771.
135 ADCO C 3336, deliberation of the élus dated 9 April 1705.
136 ADCO C 3415, duc de Bourbon to Boillot, 14 July 1713.
137 The procedure is discussed in chapter 3, for examples of their remarques see ADCO C 3041, fols.
262–3 (1700), and fols. 330–8, (1703).
Both the procureurs syndics and the conseils were chosen by the governor,
usually in concert with the élus, acting in the name of the Estates. Aspiring
candidates and their patrons sent their petitions to Chantilly, where dossiers
were compiled from which the governor could make his decision.138 After
1742, that right was theoretically reserved to the crown, but ministers were
loath to use a power that might antagonise the Estates. When, in 1763, the
archbishop of Bourges approached the comte de Saint-Florentin about a
vacancy amongst the conseils des états, the minister admitted that the ‘grace’
depended on the élus and they rarely acted without first consulting the
governor.139
In return for their professional services, the procureurs syndics received
150 livres annually, 500 livres after 1752.140 Even when their fees and other
‘gratifications’ are taken into consideration these were comparatively mod-
est sums, and most of these officers were simultaneously pursuing careers at
the bar or as professors in the university of Dijon. Yet there was no doubt-
ing their commitment to the Estates, and many of the legal officers spent
decades in their service (see appendices 9–10). Pierre Durand, who resigned
as procureur syndic in 1691, had been in place since 1665, and his predecessor
Barthélemy Moreau had served for twenty-five years. Nicholas Guenichot,
who also retired in 1691, was a comparative novice, having only served for
eighteen years. During the eighteenth century similar feats of endurance
were recorded. Jean Rougeot laboured away throughout the period from
1719 to 1751, and François Joseph Jacquinot was in office from 1769 un-
til the revolution. The pattern was repeated amongst the conseils des états.
Hubert-Joseph Boillot gave legal counsel from 1697 to 1730, Guillaume
Raviot from 1712 to 1751 and Simon Ranfer, who took up his duties in
1757, was still going strong as a robust octogenarian until his death in
1789.
As in any prestigious institution, families once installed in an office
sought to preserve it as part of their patrimony. When Nicolas Guenichot
resigned in 1691 it was to the benefit of his son, and Nicolas Perchet managed
to complete an identical manoeuvre in 1747.141 Amongst the conseils des
états, Lazare Louis Thiroux succeeded his father in 1684, as did François
Boillot in 1710. These were, however, exceptional cases, and there was no
equivalent to the Chartraire or Rigoley dynasties amongst the legal experts.
138 BMC AC GB 27, fols. 255–6, Henri-Jules to the abbé général of Cı̂teaux, 29 March 1683, and
AC 1410, fols. 2, 68, for examples from 1729–30.
139 ADCO C 3362, fol. 149, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 3 September 1763.
140 ADCO C 3361, fol. 162, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 2 December 1752.
141 ADCO C 3168, fol. 392, and C 3361, fols. 192–3.
Their position was not a venal office, and that combined with the need
for a high degree of professional competence no doubt accounted for the
different pattern of recruitment. What they did have in common was the
habit of using the Estates as part of a broader strategy of social advancement.
Families such as the Guenichot, Guillaume or Raviot gradually progressed
to the benches of one of the great law courts in the provincial capital. Others
achieved distinctions elsewhere. Jean Bannelier, conseil des états from 1751
until his death in 1766, was dean of the law faculty of the university of
Dijon, while one of his successors, André Remy Arnoult, represented the
third estate of the city at the Estates General of 1789.
Finally, the chamber could call upon the expertise of the avocat au conseil,
whose services in Paris were retained by the province.142 His role was to
keep the legal officers in Dijon informed of the progress of cases affecting
the Estates before the king’s council, and to liaise with them when they
travelled to Paris on provincial business. Ten avocats would hold the position
between 1679 and 1789, and it was never monopolised by a single family.
Theoretically the élus made the appointment, but even here the influence
of the governor was discernible. In July 1780, the chamber gave its blessing
to Fenouillot de Closey who had long coveted the place, and a few days
later they received a letter from the prince de Condé confirming their right
to nominate to the position.143 However, the governor added that he would
personally be delighted to see a certain sieur Rigault chosen instead. A few
months later a heartbroken Fenouillot de Closey wrote to the élus swearing
his undying commitment to the province and begging to be informed of
the reasons for his sudden disgrace.144 The unhappy avocat had no reason to
reproach himself. His replacement by Rigault was another typical example
of the élus bowing to the wishes of the governor. No matter how minor a
post, or how stiff the competition, a candidate with the blessing of Chantilly
would almost inevitably prevail.
t h e p rov i n c i a l e n g i n e e r s
During the century preceding the revolution, the role of the Estates in the
construction and upkeep of the province’s road network saw the emergence
of the provincial engineer whose presence became a regular feature of the
chamber of élus. The original appointment was the result of a décret passed
at the reforming Estates of 1682, which had ordered the élus to choose
142 A practice followed by the other pays d’états, Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 153–4.
143 ADCO C 3416, prince de Condé to the élus, 26 July 1780.
144 ADCO C 3365, fol. 18, Fenouillot de Closey to the élus, 23 January 1782.
‘an expert and intelligent person to watch over, under their supervision,
public works’.145 The move proved to be a resounding success, and Antoine
Rouillet served with distinction until 1706. Pierre Morin, who replaced
him, was a talented, irascible figure, and he was ignominiously sacked in
1736 after being accused, probably unfairly, of a mixture of graft and shoddy
workmanship.146 This unfortunate episode proved untypical, and in 1753,
the élus appointed two ‘deputy engineers’ to work alongside Thomas
Dumorey who was an altogether more successful chief. Under his guidance,
the province built an impressive road network, which was further expanded
by his deputy and eventual successor, Emiliand-Marie Gauthey, whose skills
were responsible for the construction of the Canal du Centre. Napoléon
was one of many admirers of Gauthey, who pursued a successful career after
1789, and he was eventually named a commander of the légion d’honneur.147
the alcades
Although not members of the chamber of élus, the seven alcades were
officers of the Estates, and like the élus of the three orders they were ap-
pointed to serve for the duration of a triennalité. The post first appeared
at the end of the sixteenth century, and by the reign of Louis XIV it
was customary for the clergy and the nobility to each choose two alcades,
while the third estate nominated three. The role of the alcades was to scruti-
nise the activities of the chamber of élus, praising good practice, criticising
abuse and making suggestions for administrative reform. They more than
fulfilled their brief, although the absence of any guarantee that their re-
ports, known as remarques, would be acted upon was one of the principal
weaknesses of a potentially valuable system.
The alcades were chosen from within the three chambers, and they were
generally of a lower social status than the élus.148 Of the seventy-six clerical
alcades to serve between 1668 and the revolution (appendix 11), there were at
least fifty-one chanoines and nineteen prieurs. The bishops never deigned to
serve as alcades, nor did the heads of religious houses such as the abbé général
of Cı̂teaux, and these were clearly men from a slightly lower rung of the
ecclesiastical ladder. Nor did the clerical alcades have much hope of joining
the ranks of the élus. Only one individual, abbé Antoine de La Goutte, alcade
145 ADCO C 2999, fol. 12.

146 L. Blin, ‘Le procès de Pierre Morin, ingénieur de Bourgogne de 1710 à 1736’, Mémoires de la
Société pour l’Histoire du Droit et des Institutions des Anciens Pays Bourguignons, Comtois et Romands
32 (1973–4), 209–41.
147 Garnier and Muteau, Galerie Bourguignonne, i, pp. 386–8 148 Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 24–5.
in 1745–8 and 1754–7, achieved that distinction during the whole period
of this study, serving during what proved to be the tumultuous triennalité
of 1775 to 1778.149 Some alcades were from very distinguished families,
including the robe dynasties of Fevret, Quarré and Bretagne. Others had
strong links with the Condé, notably Louis de Thésut, a member of the
family of the governor’s intendant in the province who was chosen as alcade
in 1679, and Louis Robinet, almoner of monseigneur le duc, alcade in both
1697–1700 and 1712–15. Abbé Donnadieu (1748–51), on the other hand,
was a member of the dauphine’s household, and she clearly felt that he was
indispensable because he was excused from the meetings of his colleagues
in Dijon, while continuing to be paid his fees.150 While these were amongst
the most distinguished, the majority of clerical alcades were from noble
families.151
Amongst the nobility the great court aristocrats were largely absent from
the alcadat.152 Instead, those elected were drawn from within the elite
of those nobles permanently resident in the province, and thanks to the
workings of a ‘wheel’ the different bailliages and comtés were all represented
(see appendix 12). Again it is striking that a two-tier system was operating,
and it was comparatively rare for an alcade to subsequently be chosen
as an élu. The exceptions to this rule, such as Antoine François de La
Tournelle, alcade in 1730 and élu in 1736, were the particular favourites
of the governor.153 The existence of this relatively sharp division between
those members of the second order, who were deemed worthy of serving as
élu and the rest belies the official image of noble equality preached by the
chamber. It might also account for the often critical tone of the remarques
produced by the alcades, as these local men were presumably quick to spot
the failings of the aristocratic élus.
The alcades of the third estate were a more familiar group, being com-
posed of the mayors of the petite roue (see appendix 13). As the towns of
the grande roue, which provided the élus, were also members of the petite
roue there was a considerable degree of overlap. One of the advantages of
this system was the detailed knowledge of the administration possessed
by men like Claude Champion, mayor of Avallon, Guy Jouard, mayor of
Châtillon-sur-Seine, and Nicolas Pourcher, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges,
all of whom had been alcades before they served as élu of the third estate.
If they were tempted to turn a blind eye to any imperfections within the
149 Ibid ., and chapter 8. 150 ADCO C 3361, fol. 115.
151 Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 24–5, on the other hand, claims that only nine were noble, but without
entering into details.
152 Ibid ., 26–30. 153 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 14, n. 137.
administration, there were always two other mayors from the towns of the
petite roue to remind them of their duty. As few of the alcades could aspire
to the election, they undoubtedly derived satisfaction, pride and honour
from acting as the guardians of the interests of the Estates. Their remarques
provide an eloquent testimony to the time, thought and effort they ex-
pended in fulfilling their commission.
Competition to become an alcade was fierce, and even amongst the third
estate the existence of the roues was not enough to prevent quarrels about
which town had the right to the office.154 It was, however, the privileged
orders that were most frequently engaged in disputes about the choice of
their alcades. When Dom Pierre Thibault, deputy of the abbey of Saint
Bénigne of Dijon, secured election to the alcadat in June 1766, he was chal-
lenged a few days later by Bazin, deputy of the church of Saint Étienne.155
The quarrel was eventually referred to the other chambers, and they found
in favour of Bazin. Trouble also flared amongst the nobility in 1709, when
Claude Viard de Quemigny lodged a protest against alleged vote fixing in
the chamber, provoking a furious row in the process.156 He was angry that
Jacques de La Cousse d’Arcelot, the powerful commissioner charged with
verifying the proofs of those wishing to enter the chamber, had ‘lands or
fiefs in several baillages or comtés’ and through his credit would ‘monopolise
all of the offices of the chamber of nobility’. He maintained that rather than
have an open vote of the eighty nobles present, a clique composed of ‘M.
d’Arconey, d’Epinac, de Foudras, de Xaintrailles, de Lassey and de Tavannes
decided between themselves’.157 As all of those cited were amongst the most
powerful men in the chamber, Viard was almost certainly correct in his as-
sessment, but all he earned was a sharp reprimand from the governor. Yet
his complaints reveal the emotions generated by the struggle for office, and
if the choice of the alcades was less tightly controlled than that of the élus
the patronage of the governor was often decisive.
Once appointed by the Estates, the alcades had no direct involvement in
the functioning of the chamber of élus. Before 1682, they were not expected
to reassemble in order to prepare their remarques until two weeks before the
next meeting of the Estates. This clearly left no time to examine the activities
of the administration in any depth, and on their own recommendation the
alcades were subsequently able to meet during the month of December
preceding an assembly, with the aim of putting ‘matters in such a state
that they can complete the remainder of their remarques during the eight
154 ADCO C 3030, fol. 533 (1709), and C 3051, fol. 167 (1763). 155 ADCO C 3030, fols. 483–5.
156 ADCO C 3019, fols. 416–18, and C 3042, fol. 149. 157 ADCO C 3019, fol. 417.
or ten days that they are assembled before the opening of the Estates’.158
The Estates were keen to enforce the new system, repeating the terms of
the décret of 1682 when the alcades failed to abide by its terms, and it
quickly became part of established practice remaining in force until the
revolution.159
Despite the terms of the décret of 1682, the alcades were still permitted a
relatively short space of time to investigate the work of the administration.
Their remarques do contain occasional complaints about restricted access to
crucial documents, but the overall impression is of a committee confronted
by rather more information than could be digested in the time available.160
According to the register kept by the alcades of the triennalité of 1742–5,
they first met on 3 December 1744 and remained in session until the end
of that month. They followed a relatively busy schedule: ‘we were gathered
in the chamber every day . . . in the morning from nine until midday and in
the afternoon from three to six, Sundays and holy days excepted’.161 During
their assemblies, they were occupied:
with reading the décrets of the Estates of 1742, the cahiers presented to the king
during the voyage of honour and the replies of His Majesty, the registers and the
deliberations of the current triennalité; the state of the [fiscal] administration, in
income and expenditure, and as we completed this reading, we made observations
of a general and specific nature that we communicated to each other, contenting
ourselves to make a memorandum of the subjects of our remarques.162
The above account was written at the beginning of a series of official registers
kept by successive alcades, and was intended to serve as a model for future
reference. It does, however, represent a reasonably objective description of
the working practices of the body as a whole.
If the alcades carried out their duties conscientiously, they had an im-
pressive corpus of documents, running into thousands of pages, at their
disposal, and these would certainly provide a reliable insight into the ac-
tions of the élus. Yet it would be a view of the administration taken from
the standpoint of the chamber of élus in Dijon, with very little sense of how
its decisions were being implemented, or side-stepped, in the province at
large. To remedy that deficiency, the alcades had to call upon their own local
knowledge, and the reports and complaints sent to them individually in the
hope of influencing their remarques. As we have seen, the alcades had no
158 These were the terms of the décret of 1682, ADCO C 2999, fol. 9.
159 The offending alcades were rebuked at the Estates of 1688, ibid., fol. 181.
160 Complaints were, for example, voiced in the remarques of 1742, ADCO C 3303, fol. 168, and again
in 1766, C 3304, fols. 7, 10–11.
161 ADCO C 3306, fol. 4. 162 Ibid.
means of guaranteeing that their recommendations would be adopted, but
to conclude that ‘their role was very limited’ is misleading.163 The décrets
of the Estates and the remonstrances presented to the king are full of ideas
and measures that first saw the light of day as articles in the remarques of
the alcades. Moreover, the governor, élus and the ministry in Versailles were
all concerned about the possible impact of their criticisms upon both the
Estates and the wider public in Burgundy. It was no coincidence that by
1789 many would-be reformers of the Estates believed that strengthening
the powers of the alcades was the first step to take.164
From this discussion of the chamber of élus and the permanent officers
of the Estates, it becomes clear that many of the criticisms contained in the
remonstrances of Malesherbes or the works of subsequent historians are
excessive. Too often studies of the Estates have assumed that the chamber
was divided between an ill-informed elite and their highly qualified subor-
dinates. It is true that the treasurer general, the secrétaires des états and the
legal officers possessed great experience and familiarity with the workings
of the provincial administration, but they were not dealing with political
ingénues. Nor is the division of élus and permanent officials necessarily
helpful when it comes to understanding how the chamber actually worked.
Bishops and court aristocrats might lack specialist knowledge of financial
or administrative practice, but they could bring other assets to the chamber.
They had the social status required to approach the king or his ministers,
and a familiarity with the workings of Versailles needed to ensure that the
ideas and proposals of the permanent officers did not just gather dust on
the desk of a ministerial clerk.
When looked at from this perspective, the administration of the Estates
of Burgundy strongly resembles that of the monarchy. At Versailles, the
king’s councils and the offices of secretary of state were filled by great
aristocrats or members of the robe dynasties, ably assisted by the maı̂tres
des requêtes, intendants des finances and their first commis who provided
the specialist knowledge upon which their decisions were based. In other
words, there was a division of labour that matches almost perfectly that be-
tween the élus and their permanent officials. Rather than being in conflict,
the two arms of the provincial administration were usually pulling in the
same direction. The great majority were Burgundians, connected by ties of
kinship to other members of the chamber, or the wider circle of noble and
office-holding elites, who were fiercely proud of the Estates and conscious
of their responsibility to protect their privileges and those of the province
163 As Ligou, ‘Élus et alcades’, 40, has done. 164 See chapter 12.
as a whole. Moreover, many owed their appointment to the governor, and
formed a clientèle with ties of loyalty to the House of Bourbon-Condé.
Here the Estates of Burgundy would appear to offer an alternative model
to that identified by historians of the other pays d’états. Rather than the
personal rule of Louis XIV ushering in a period of government through a
royal patronage network,165 it witnessed the re-establishment of Condéan
rule.166 Successive governors were able to control many of the appointments
to the chamber of élus and before the death of the duc de Bourbon talk of
a division between élus and permanent officers is meaningless, as they fre-
quently shared a common bond with Chantilly. It was the complementary
nature of the élus and the permanent officials that would make them such
effective defenders of the privileges and authority of the Estates. After 1754,
the powers of the last governor of the province, the prince de Condé, were
still impressive, and only the brave, or foolhardy, would deliberately ignore
his wishes.
165 As has been argued by Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 244, and Kettering, Patrons and brokers,
p. 223.
166 Here I am in full agreement with the works of Béguin, Natcheson and Smith cited above.
chapter 5
The provincial administration: authority

and enforcement
t h e c h a m b e r o f é lu s i n s e s si o n
If the myth of ignorant élus has been laid to rest,1 their actual contribution
to the running of the provincial administration remains to be proven.
According to critics such as Malesherbes, the élus were rarely present in
Dijon, leaving their chamber closed, or in the hands of the permanent
officers.2 As we shall see, these accusations were inaccurate, and to fully
appreciate the activities of the élus it is necessary to define their competence,
examine their working practices and consider how decisions reached in
Dijon were put into effect. A simple plan (plate 4) sketched early in the
eighteenth century offers a glimpse into the chamber itself.3 It was the élu of
the clergy, or in his absence the representative of the nobility, who presided
over the work of the assembly from his armchair positioned at the head
of a large rectangular bureau around which were seated the other élus, the
deputies of the Chambre des Comptes and the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon.
The serving secrétaire des états sat facing the president from the other end
of the table, and behind him were the two procureurs syndics. A separate
desk accommodated the clerks recording the deliberations, and further
seating was reserved for any ‘persons of distinction’ who might enter the
chamber. Although their presence was not obligatory, the treasurer general,
conseils des états and the provincial engineer were regularly summoned for
consultation.
When taking decisions about provincial affairs, or issuing orders to be
carried out by their subordinates, the opinions of the seven élus were not of
equal weight. Instead, the representatives of the two privileged orders and
the élu du roi cast one vote each, while the vicomte-mayeur and the élu of the
third estate had one vote between them, as did the two deputies from the
Chambre des Comptes.4 If either of these pairings disagreed, then their
1 See chapter 4. 2 Egret, L’opposition parlementaire, p. 145.
3 ADCO C 3055, bis. 4 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 202.
126
Provincial administration: authority and enforcement 127
Plate 4 Plan of the chamber of élus at the Estates of Burgundy
opinions were cancelled out. The combination of the vicomte-mayeur and

the élu of the third estate was justified on the basis that both represented
the same order, which would otherwise be favoured relative to the clergy
and nobility, and similar motives presumably account for the treatment of
the Chambre des Comptes. Decisions within the chamber were reached by
simple majority voting, and, in the event of a tie, it was the élu of the clergy
who cast the deciding vote. The voting system thus had the advantage of
giving increased weight to the élus of the three orders, who as the direct
representatives of the Estates could be expected to protect their interests.
Once a decision had been reached all of the members of the chamber
were expected to add their signatures to the resulting text, known as a
délibération, mandement or an ordinance. Even on the most controversial
issues this convention was obeyed, and when the bishop of Dijon baulked
at the prospect of signing a deliberation increasing the number of engi-
neers employed by the province, the secretary of state, Saint-Florentin, was
quick to inform him of his error.5 The minister declared that the deliber-
ation ‘having been reached by a majority of votes it must stand, and no
member of the chamber should exempt himself from signing it even if he
5 ADCO C 3361, fol. 168, Saint-Florentin to the bishop of Dijon, 9 January 1753.
was of a different opinion’. These deliberations varied from comparatively
minor matters, such as the payment of a pension accorded by the Estates,
or the issuing of a commission for a member of the chamber to inspect
public works, to detailed ordinances laying down the regulations governing
the tax system. During each triennalité hundreds of these decisions were
taken, and each was added to the voluminous registers to be verified and
retrospectively approved at the next session of the Estates. As each of their
deliberations was technically provisional, the élus occasionally took fright
when the crown demanded additional funds, fearing that they would subse-
quently be disowned. A few reassuring words from the governor was usually
enough to calm their fears, and examples of the chamber being called to
account by the Estates are rare.
Other safeguards had been built into the procedures of the chamber of
élus with the aim of bolstering the position of the representatives of the
Estates and restraining the permanent officials. In 1662, a décret of the
Estates had stipulated that deliberations affecting taxation or the spending
of the province’s revenues would only be valid if two of their élus were
present.6 A few years later, in 1682, the Estates repeated an earlier décret
stating that no deliberation would be binding unless it was concluded in
the presence of two of its representatives.7 The need for the Estates to
issue such décrets provided later historians with the ammunition to attack
the shortcomings of the élus,8 and there is no doubt that a certain laxity
did persist into the personal reign of Louis XIV. The case of Pierre du
Ban, comte de La Feuillée, illustrates the point perfectly. Named élu of the
nobility in May 1677, he was not a man to trouble the chamber with his
presence. In July of that same year, his colleagues in Dijon received a letter
from the comte informing them that:
when paying his respects to the king, His Majesty had said that the services he
could render him in Germany would be as welcome and useful as those he could
perform in Burgundy . . . that His Majesty for this reason had ordered him to return
to the army.9
La Feuillée added that he was leaving immediately, asking the other élus
‘to count him as present in all the affairs they dealt with in his absence,
promising to ratify them on his return’. In modern parlance, the comte
might best be described as a ‘virtual élu’, physically in the Empire, but with
his signature appearing on the deliberations taken in Dijon. To complete
the picture, the chamber agreed that his ‘fees would be paid, as if he had
been present and had assisted’.10
6 ADCO C 2997, fol. 72. 7 ADCO C 2999, fols. 6–8. 8 See chapter 7.
9 ADCO C 3057, La Feuillée to the élus, 21 July 1677. 10 Ibid.
Here was an extreme example of noble absenteeism, and later critics of
the Estates have assumed that it was endemic.11 Yet we need to beware of
reading too much into the behaviour of errant élus because other cases can
be cited to demonstrate a more conscientious attitude to their work. Louis
Antoine Paul de Bourbon, vicomte de Bourbon-Busset, the last élu of the
Burgundian nobility, was exemplary in his dedication. In a letter to his
friend, the former intendant of the province, Jean-François Joly de Fleury,
written in January 1788, he explained why he would have to forsake the
attractions of Paris for the foreseeable future. He wrote:
I need to gain a detailed knowledge of the affairs and interests of the province in
order to avoid being embarrassed during the voyage of honour. The information
that I require can only be obtained through constant work, I would also like to
examine personally the canal [du centre] and see the works of art carried out in
the different cantons at the province’s expense. You can well imagine, sir, that here
are a good many reasons to delay my return.12
Clearly a vast gulf separated Bourbon-Busset from his predecessor, La
Feuillée, and common sense suggests that most noble élus fell somewhere
between the two extremes, performing the duties expected of them without
excessive zeal.
Throughout the period there are examples of the élus seeking to improve
the quality of their administration, often without the need for threats or
sanctions. Generally when the chamber was not in session, the élus scat-
tered in order to attend to their own affairs, leaving one of the secrétaires
des états to answer any urgent correspondence in their absence. However,
in April 1689, the élus passed a deliberation appointing members of the
chamber to investigate different aspects of the administration during the
vacation, including the verification of the payments made by the receivers
of the taille, the progress of lawsuits delegated to the procureurs syndics and
the state of repairs being conducted on the province’s roads.13 Even though
the élus were under no obligation to assume these extra responsibilities, pe-
riodic innovations of this type were common. What tended to undermine
their effectiveness was the absence of any guarantee that their successors
would be motivated by a comparable zeal. Unless backed by a décret of the
Estates, or orders from the governor or a minister, even the most salutary
measures might subsequently be allowed to lapse. Yet despite these institu-
tional weaknesses, it is still possible to argue that the décrets of 1662, 1679
and 1682, that have inspired critics of the administration, were not signs of
11 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, pp. 29–30.

12 B N collection Joly de Fleury, MS 608, fol. 57, Bourbon-Busset to Joly de Fleury, 15 January 1788.
13 ADCO C 3055, fol. 136.
deep and uneradicable abuse. Instead, they formed part of a long-running
campaign to improve both the conduct of the élus and the effectiveness
of their administration. In the century before 1789 many of these efforts
would be rewarded.
The décret of 1682, for example, went beyond a simple concern that at
least two of the three élus of the Estates should be present; it also sought
to regulate the life of the chamber. To achieve that end, the élus were to
reside ‘as often as possible in the city of Dijon and shall hold their sessions
at least twice per annum, the first from 1 May until the end of June, the
second from 15 November until the end of December’.14 If they failed to
complete their business in the allotted time, or were called away to court,
their sessions were to be rescheduled as closely as possible to those original
dates. If two or more of the élus of the three orders wished, they could
open the chamber to deal with emergencies, or pressing affairs, otherwise
it would remain closed.15 The décret even went as far as to stipulate the
order in which the chamber should complete its business, for example, by
preparing the next year’s tax rolls during their assemblies in May. These
regulations were part of a more general reforming wave, and the élus were
warned that they should be ready to justify their actions at the next assembly
of the Estates.16 The inability to threaten more dire sanctions was one of the
weaknesses of the Estates, and it is tempting to conclude that the décret was
ignored.17 It is true that in 1709, the alcades asked the assembly to repeat
its call for the élus to be resident in Dijon, or risk being deprived of their
fees and ‘gratifications’.18 That these familiar criticisms should be voiced
again certainly illustrates the difficulties involved in trying to force the élus
to conform, but did this new warning have any effect?
As the registers of the deliberations of the chamber have been preserved
it is possible to check. If we take the relatively short triennalité of De-
cember 1712 to June 1715, and examine both the number of times that
the élus assembled and who was actually present then some interesting
patterns emerge. On 12 December 1712, the seven élus trooped into the
chamber with abbé Henri Emanuel de Roquette, who was beginning his
second spell as élu of the clergy, at their head. He was accompanied by
Leon de Madaillan de Lesparre, comte de Lassay, representing the nobility
and Henri Silvestre de La Forest, mayor of Montbard, a nobleman serving
as the élu of the third estate. They were joined by Germain Richard, élu
du roi, Nicolas La Botte, vicomte-mayeur of Dijon, and Jean-Barthélemy
14 ADCO C 2999, fol. 7. 15 Ibid., fols. 7–8. 16 See chapter 7.
17 As Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 17–19, 21, has argued.
18 ADCO C 3042, fol. 162.
Joly and Guillaume Grillot de Predelys, deputies of the Chambre des
Comptes.19
Between the opening session and 24 March 1713, they held seventy-nine
meetings, an impressive total in a period of just 103 days.20 Individual
attendance rates were equally striking. Abbé de Roquette attended every
assembly, La Forest was missing on just one occasion, while La Botte,
Richard, Joly and Grillot de Predelys were absent twice. The only truant
was the comte de Lassay. He appeared in the chamber sixteen times before
9 January, and was not seen thereafter. During these assemblies, the élus had
worked on a variety of tasks, notably preparing the tax rolls, reimbursing
communities for the costs of the military étapes and auctioning public works
contracts.
Once the chamber closed its doors at the end of March 1713, the élus had
a month to organise their affairs before the voyage of honour to present
Louis XIV with the remonstrances agreed at the recent meeting of the
Estates. Lassay rejoined his colleagues at Versailles, and from the end of
April until mid-July, he assisted Roquette and La Forest with the heady
round of formal presentations, negotiations and social events at court.21
It was not until 2 November 1713 that they reassembled in Dijon, but we
should note that the chamber had frequently convened in Paris to deal with
provincial matters during the voyage.
According to the terms of the décret of 1682, the chamber was supposed
to be open from 15 November until the end of December, and then close
again until May. In reality, it was far more active. Starting on 2 November,
the élus assembled forty-four times before the end of 1713,22 and the New
Year was not the signal for a bout of recreation. From 2 January until 1
May 1714, when in theory they should not have been sitting,23 they held
seventy-eight assemblies, and a further thirty-six were completed by the
end of June, the closing date of their second official period of service. Even
that was not enough to permit the closure of the chamber, which had
opened another forty-one times by the end of September.24 This assiduous
approach to their duties was not repeated during the winter of 1714–15,
and the chamber was closed.25 Once more other matters had intervened,
and the secrétaire des états, Julien, was obliged to keep the élus informed of
events in Dijon because Roquette and Lassay were in Paris ‘to confer with
the ministry’.
19 ADCO C 3158, fol. 823. 20 ADCO C 3158, fols. 823–910, and C 3159, fols. 1–324.
21 The details of the voyage of honour are to be found in ADCO C 3310.
22 ADCO C 3159, fols. 343–504. 23 ADCO C 3160, fols. 38–252, 252–343.
24 Ibid., fols. 343–468. 25 ADCO C 3161, fol. 37.
There could be few complaints about the amount of time that the cham-
ber was opened, but who was actually present? Roquette was at the head of
the roll of honour, having presided over all of the 199 sessions held between
2 November 1713 and 24 September 1714. La Forest was not far behind
having attended 173, but the comte de Lassay had graced the chamber with
his presence on just three occasions. Were a similar analysis of the actions
of the élus to be undertaken for the whole of the period, it is likely that the
noble élu would be the most frequent absentee, even if not always matching
the truancy rates of the comte de Lassay. The need to attend to affairs at
court, or to serve in the army, offered some mitigating circumstances, but
an aristocratic distaste for a ‘desk job’ probably played a substantial part.
Lassay’s absenteeism meant that the burden fell heavily on to the shoulders
of the other two representatives of the Estates because, in theory, no busi-
ness could be contracted without their presence. In fact, Roquette presided
over twenty-six meetings when La Forest was missing, thus contradicting
the décret of 1682. It was a relatively minor transgression, and there is no
evidence that serious decisions affecting taxation or other financial matters
were taken.
Of the other members of the chamber, Richard, élu du roi, attended
103 times, La Botte, eighty-nine out of a possible 168 (he died in July
1714),26 while Joly and Grillot de Predelys appeared at 175 and 198 meetings
respectively. Attendance records were impressive, and on their own they
underestimate the contribution of the élus to the work of the chamber. The
practice of giving commissions to individuals was central to the workings of
the administration, and most of those present could expect to spend time
making ‘visits’ to, for example, draw up a new tax roll or oversee the levy of
the militia. Most of La Forest’s absences were due to his role as commissioner
for the chamber, liaising with the officers of the cavalry regiments quartered
in the pastures of the Saône.27 His colleagues undertook similar tasks,
and it is not an exaggeration to talk of a group of dedicated and active
administrators. It is true that the comte de Lassay was a glaring exception,
but even he contributed to the administration during the voyage of honour
and the later negotiations at court in the winter of 1714–15.
The triennalité of 1712–15 was not exceptional, and for the purposes
of comparison two other years have been chosen at random to illustrate
the fact. During 1750, the chamber was assembled on seventy-five separate
occasions, and in 1786 it met no fewer than 117 times.28 The attendance
26 ADCO C 3160, fol. 376. 27 Ibid., fol. 361.
28 The figures have been compiled from the registers of the chamber of élus, ADCO C 3198 and
C 3241.
figures for 1750 have a familiar ring, with abbé Grosbois, élu of the clergy,
present throughout, and Edme Doublot, élu of the third estate, missing
just one assembly, that called in extremis after the sudden death of the
treasurer general.29 As for Louis François de Damas, marquis d’Anlezy,
élu of the nobility, he had deigned to appear in the chamber just three
times.30 His other colleagues were more assiduous, and all were present at
the majority of the assemblies held that year. In 1786, on the other hand, of
the 115 occasions for which we have attendance figures, abbé de La Fare was
ever present.31 The comte de Chastellux, élu of the nobility, attended no
fewer than eighty-one times, while François Noirot of the third estate made
seventy appearances. There were no recorded assemblies without at least
two élus of the orders present, and the chamber was never closed for long
periods. Only in the months of September and October, when it met on just
nine occasions, was there any real hiatus. That break, coinciding with the
harvest, was typical of comparable institutions throughout Europe. There
is no evidence to support Malesherbes’ allegations that the élus assembled
for just two months and that in the intervening period their chamber was
closed.
It would, therefore, appear that the sins of the élus have been exaggerated,
and the eighteenth century witnessed a gradual improvement in their work-
ing practices, with even a modest degree of professionalisation. Whereas the
alcades had felt it necessary to rebuke the élus periodically throughout the
seventeenth century, references to their shortcomings are difficult to find
after 1750. Indeed, effusive praise was not uncommon. In their remarques
of 1778, the alcades declared that there was:
no abuse that they have not tried to expose, to reform; no public good that they
have not endeavoured to perform; what wisdom, what equity have we admired in
the distribution of taxation. Above all, how tender was their compassion for the
misery of the people! How sincere their desire to relieve them!32
Such fulsome praise immediately arouses suspicions, but even those re-
marques that were censored by an angry prince de Condé in 1781 contained
criticisms of the permanent officials, not the élus.33 It was not a coincidence.
By the final decades of the ancien régime, the chamber was displaying a real
enthusiasm for reform, a sentiment that can also be detected in the assem-
blies of the Estates. Moreover, the élus were contributing to its development
29 ADCO C 3198, fol. 200–1. 30 Ibid., fols. 651, 670, 679. 31 ADCO C 3239.
32 ADCO C 3306, fol. 189. In 1784, they wrote that to ‘faire le rapport de l’administration de MM. les
élus de la triennalité qui vient de finir c’est tracer le plan d’une administration également active et
éclairée, toujours juste, toujours sage et aussi heureuse’, ibid., fol. 218.
33 See chapters 8 and 12.
themselves, and they were not simply responding to the orders of the crown,
or the décrets of the Estates. By 1789, there was no shortage of criticisms to
direct at the Burgundian administration, but a lack of either commitment
or good intentions were not amongst them.
t h e wo rk o f t h e c h am ber
At the beginning of every triennalité one of the most urgent tasks con-
fronting the new élus was the preparation of the remonstrances to be deliv-
ered to the king during the voyage of honour. The remonstrances themselves
were generally composed of a series of articles, typically between fifteen and
thirty, in the form of pleas for aid, or requests for specific legislation from
the king.34 It was customary to begin the cahier by outlining the willing
sacrifices made by the province, the suffering of its people and the need for
a reduction in taxation. During the reign of Louis XIV, the disorder and
expense occasioned by the movement of troops through the province was
another common grievance, as was the proliferation of new offices which
were responsible for increasing the burden of the taille.35 The response to
these protests was usually brief and unprofitable, mostly consisting of no
more than a promise that the king would consider their request when cir-
cumstances permitted. The other articles tended to be of a more technical
nature, demanding new laws or amendments to existing legislation.36 As
any request of this type affected the interests of the Parlement of Dijon, it
was natural for the élus, or the procureurs syndics, to consult with the judges
before drafting their remonstrances.37 Indeed, when referring an issue to
the élus for inclusion in the cahiers, the Estates occasionally added a pro-
viso stating ‘that the élus shall confer with the first president and procureur
général of the Parlement and in the light of their advice shall make any
remonstrances to His Majesty that they deem appropriate’.38 By taking
these precautions, the élus could reduce the risk of being disowned by the
34 The complete collection of remonstrances presented between 1661 and 1785 has been preserved,
ADCO C 3328–35.
35 The remonstrances of 1689, ADCO C 3329, fols. 100–5, and of 1692, ibid., fols. 113–21, provide good
examples.
36 The remonstrances presented in 1782, for example, contained a whole series of these requests,
including calls for the tightening of legislation affecting crimes ‘commis dans les bois’, which sounds
more exciting that it actually was, ADCO C 3334, fols. 1–47.
37 The meetings between the procureurs syndics and leading parlementaires in 1770 about whether or
not the legal maxim ‘aux cede aut solve’ should be applied in Burgundy was typical, BMD MS 912,
fol. 275.
38 ADCO C 3000, fol. 254.
notoriously prickly judges, and secure the advantage of a united provincial
front when negotiating with the crown.
The actual timing of the voyage of honour was determined by the king
in consultation with the governor, and when the élus were informed they
usually had a few weeks to organise themselves before departing for the
court.39 As with so many other aspects of the ceremonial life of the Estates,
the protocol for the voyage was finely calibrated.40 Those entitled to partic-
ipate were the élus of the three orders, the treasurer general, one of the two
secrétaires des états and a procureur syndic.41 Before leaving Dijon, the élus
solemnly issued a deliberation ordering the treasurer general to borrow the
generous sum of 90,000 livres to pay for their expenses,42 allowing them
to climb into their carriages for the journey to Paris in good heart.
Once in the capital, the élus faced a busy and, one assumes, quite a
pleasurable round of ceremonial duties, interspersed with the more serious
business of bargaining with the ministry about the contents of their remon-
strances. Although the chamber in Dijon was closed during the voyage, the
élus assembled regularly in Paris to deal with provincial affairs, and they
continued to issue ordinances as they saw fit. On the voyage of honour of
1682, the élus arrived in Paris at the end of September, and they immedi-
ately had an audience with the governor, Henri-Jules.43 At that meeting, the
secrétaire des états, Julien, read out a draft of the remonstrances that he had
prepared, which was amended and finalised by the élus and the governor.44
Over the next few days, Henri-Jules held several private meetings with the
élu of the clergy, abbé Armand de Quincé, and his trusted adviser Claude
Rigoley, the other secrétaire des états, at which they agreed the distribu-
tion of 26,500 livres of ‘gratifications’ to those likely to be of service to the
Estates.45 After a formal presentation to Colbert, the élus, assisted by the
governor, prepared for the crucial official ‘conference’ with the minister
by identifying all of the articles of remonstrance that fell within his vast
39 Studies of the voyage include Dumont, Une session des états, pp. 128–52, and C. Dugas de La
Boissonny, ‘Les voyages d’honneur des états de Bourgogne de 1682 à 1785’, Annales de l’Est (1986),
251–308.
40 As the registers of the voyages compiled between 1682 and 1785 make clear, ADCO C 3309–27.
41 Both of the procureurs syndics had made the trip before 1721, ADCO C 3002, fol. 107. Thereafter they
followed the same system as the secrétaires, with the honour alternating between the two officers.
42 The amount remained unchanged throughout the period.
43 The voyage of 1682 has been chosen as an example because it was the first for which a precise record
has been preserved, ADCO C 3309.
44 Ibid., fol. 1.
45 This fund was voted at the triennial meetings of the Estates, and was then distributed by the governor,
see chapter 3 and Dumont, Une session des états, p. 132.
administrative domain.46 At that meeting, the relevant articles were read
out and Colbert offered his observations which were duly noted. Other
informal meetings followed, with Quincé and Rigoley visiting Colbert’s
first commis to distribute financial ‘gifts’ and to ask for ‘the continuation of
their good offices’.
Once the deputation had digested the implications of Colbert’s response
to their draft cahiers, they met again with the governor to finalise their text.
They also agreed to try and capitalise upon their privileged access to the
minister by presenting ‘several memoirs and projects of requêtes’ to him
during their stay. Although Colbert was undoubtedly the minister whose
administration had the most direct bearing on the interests of the Estates
in 1682, deputations were also made to the other secretaries of state.47 It
was not until 12 November, nearly two months after their arrival in Paris,
that the remonstrances were finally delivered to Louis XIV. After the official
presentation to the king, the Burgundian party made a tour to offer their
compliments to the dauphin, the queen, the young duc de Bourgogne and
other members of the royal family as well as to the king’s ministers.
Thus before presenting the province’s grievances, the élus had been en-
gaged in a lengthy process of official and unofficial consultations that re-
veals much about the functioning of both the Estates and the government
of Louis XIV. Although it was the secrétaire des états, Julien, who had written
the original articles of remonstrance, his ideas had been subject to scrutiny
and modification by the governor, the élus and even Colbert himself be-
fore actually being presented to Louis XIV. Meanwhile, the governor, aided
by Quincé and Rigoley, had used the funds at their disposal to prepare a
smooth passage for their demands. An astute combination of consultation
and financial inducement, while not guaranteed to bring success, at least
promised that the province’s grievances would receive a fair hearing.
Having accepted their remonstrances, the king passed them to the chan-
cellor, who appointed a group of five rapporteurs ‘to assist the council in
responding to the cahiers’.48 In the weeks that followed it was essential for
the élus and their officers to maintain their presence in order to ensure
a favourable reply. Once again, the multifaceted nature of ancien régime
society and government is striking, and the Burgundian deputation acted
as a kind of mirror image of the royal administration. If it was the procureur
syndic or the secrétaire des états who prepared the legal briefs and unearthed
the precedents needed to convince the maı̂tres des requêtes who acted as
rapporteurs, it was the governor and the élus who pressurised the ministers,
46 ADCO C 3309, fol. 2. 47 Ibid., fol. 3. 48 Ibid., fol. 5.

influential courtiers and even the king on behalf of the Estates. This was
especially important when they were involved in conflict with other insti-
tutions, such as the Parlement of Dijon or the municipal council of the
city of Lyon. These rivals would be simultaneously mobilising their own
supporters, and the élus needed to respond.
It was not until mid-December that the chancellor informed the abbé
de Quincé that all was ready for the reading of the official response to the
cahiers, a ceremony that took place before the grande direction.49 The work
of the voyage was now complete, and after another round of ceremonial
‘adieux’ the deputation could begin to make its way back to Dijon. The élus
had spent three months defending the interests of the province in Paris, but
they had not neglected their own affairs. Quincé and the élu of the nobility,
the marquis de Thianges, had also won an historic victory, keeping their
hats firmly on their heads ‘when receiving the response to the cahiers from
the mouth of the chancellor in council’, restoring parity with the deputies
of the Estates of Brittany and Languedoc, who had already secured that
privilege.50
The voyage of honour of 1682 was the first for which a detailed register
was compiled, and subsequent records make it clear that the same general
pattern was followed thereafter. Had a deputy from 1682 found himself
suddenly transported to the reign of Louis XVI, he would have had lit-
tle difficulty recognising the procedure. The voyage of 1785, for example,
involved the same meetings with the governor, formal presentation and
work behind the scenes designed to produce a favourable response to the
remonstrances.51 Much of the etiquette was identical to that of 1682, al-
though new details had been added, notably the jealously guarded right of
the élus to have the fountains of Versailles played in their honour.52
Once the voyage was concluded, the élus were supposed to spend the
rest of the triennalité in Dijon, unless summoned to court for specific ne-
gotiations, or sent there to defend the interests of the Estates. When in
session, there was never a shortage of business to keep them occupied.53 In
December 1785, the élus issued a deliberation which attempted to ‘establish
a fixed order and method in the activities that must occupy the chamber
49 The grande direction was a surviving subcommittee of the conseil d’état et des finances. It was composed
of ‘the chancellor, the members of the conseil royal des finances (except for the king), the intendants
des finances, the masters of requests, and the councillors of state who sat on the financial bureaux
of the councils’, Hamscher, Conseil privé and the parlements, p. 10, n. 10.
50 ADCO C 3309, fol. 7. 51 The details are contained in ADCO C 3327.
52 When the Gazette de France forgot to include a reference to the fountains being played for the élus
in 1725, they protested to Louis XV, ADCO C 3311, fol. 18.
53 ADCO C 3055.
in the course of its winter sitting’, setting out a list of priorities that were
intended to serve as a model for their successors. Firstly, they noted that
‘above all we concern ourselves with everything affecting the finances of the
province’.54 Their second item of responsibilities was classified as ‘military’,
which effectively meant the raising of recruits for the provincial militia
and the provision of étapes for troops passing through the province. The
third category, ‘public works’, would in the course of the century after
1688 become one of the most important areas of activity, with the chamber
overseeing a major programme of road building and canal construction as
well as the more mundane tasks of maintaining public buildings. Finally,
the deliberation of 1785 identified ‘useful institutions’ as the fourth sphere
of administrative competence. Under this heading, they grouped the var-
ious projects for the encouragement of agriculture, industry and the arts.
Taken as a whole the deliberation encompassed the vast majority of duties
performed by the chamber, although others could usefully be added to the
list. These included the need to deal with emergencies caused by famine or
natural disaster, providing information for the government and disciplining
the officers working for the Estates. The need to defend the privileges of the
Estates and the broader interests of the province was another permanent
preoccupation.
Finally, the élus played a prominent part in the ceremonial life of Dijon.
When the dauphin was born in 1729, they organised a huge celebration in
the city, the focus of which was the roasting of an oxen for distribution to
the poor who gathered to watch an elaborate fireworks display in front of an
illuminated Palais des États.55 Similar festivities greeted the birth of the duc
de Bourgogne in 1751, and the élus provided 15,000 livres to fund dowries for
poor ‘daughters of the province’.56 No military victory or national event was
complete without the performance of a Te Deum in the Sainte Chapelle in
the presence of ‘our lords the élus’, resplendent in their finery, representing
what they firmly believed was the principal institution of the first province
in the kingdom.
t h e p rov i n c i a l bu re au crac y
The élus and the permanent officials acted as the executive for the Bur-
gundian administration, but for their will to extend beyond the confines
of their bureau in Dijon it was necessary to have both a network of junior
54 Ibid., deliberation of 14 December 1785. 55 ADCO C 3055.

56 ADCO C 3361, fol. 142, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 9 December 1751.
officials and representatives in the towns and villages of the province. After
1661, the Estates gradually developed an administrative structure that by
1789 had begun to exhibit certain of the basic characteristics of a mod-
ern bureaucracy.57 Yet if the Burgundian administration, like that of the
crown, was more professional than it had ever been, it was simultaneously
characterised by the continuing presence of more traditional patterns of
patrimonialism, patronage and clientèle that were amongst the defining
features of ancien régime society. There was also great diversity in terms
of the way in which different branches of the provincial administration
functioned. While the bureaux of the secrétaires des états, or that of the
provincial engineer, were expanding and developing ever more sophisti-
cated working methods, other important posts such as those of receiver of
the taille or mayor altered only marginally. The lower tiers of the admin-
istration were, therefore, something of a hybrid as closer inspection makes
clear.
The secrétaires des états had traditionally formed the hub of the admin-
istration, and each officer had a bureau with a commis working under his
supervision, who, in turn, directed the clerks employed to draft the reg-
isters and minutes of the chamber of élus. In 1688, Claude Thierry and
Jean Gelyot had both worked as commis for over a decade, and in a requête
presented to the élus seeking an increase in their gages they claimed that it
was their only employment and that ‘they are forced to employ clerks to
expedite business’.58 Their appeal bore fruit, and the salary for their year of
service was increased from 300 to 500 livres,59 a decent if not exactly princely
sum in a period when the demands on the provincial administration were
increasing dramatically.
By the second half of the eighteenth century the number and size of
the different bureaux had expanded appreciably. The two original bureaux
continued to alternate, but the reference to the year ‘out of service’ bore
little relation to reality. In a memoir of 1786, drafted, it has to be said, in
defence of a system that appeared to be ripe for cost-cutting, their work
was explained in detail.60 The author, who almost certainly worked for the
Estates, argued that the bureau ‘out of service’ was charged with laying the
57 D. Ligou, ‘Le personnel de l’intendance et des états de Bourgogne: aux origines du fonctionnarisme
moderne’, 111 e Congrès National des Sociétés Savantes (Poitiers, 1986), 65–77, and P. Bodineau, ‘Aux
origines des fonctionnaires régionaux: la politique du personnel administratif des Etats de Bour-
gogne’, Mémoires de la Société pour l’Histoire du Droit et des Institutions des Anciens Pays Bourguignons,
Comtois et Romands (1990), 147–61.
58 ADCO C 3454, ‘Requête du 13 Mai 1688’.
59 It should be noted that they received payment in alternate years.
60 ADCO C 3453. The anonymous document was simply entitled ‘Mémoire’.
groundwork for its counterpart ‘in service’. It began with the preparation
of:
the registers of the taille and capitation, the rolls and registers of the capitation
of the privileged, the individual orders sent to the receivers for the collection of
the taille . . . to register all the requêtes that are classed by bailliage to be sent to the
receivers for their opinion.61
In addition, each bureau had responsibilities unique to itself that did not
alternate. The first handled the paperwork connected with military étapes
and convoys as well as the provincial stud, while the second performed a
similar role for all matters relating to the militia.
With the bureau ‘out of service’ laying the foundations, the work of
the bureau ‘in service’ was much facilitated, especially when it came to
completing the various tax rolls. These had to be finalised, then recorded
and distributed to, amongst others, the receivers of the taille, the états
particuliers and privileged corps such as the Parlement of Dijon. In addition,
the bureau ‘in service’ was expected to produce the copies of the ordinances
and correspondence of the élus, maintain the minutes of their deliberations
and attend to other clerical duties. As with most administrative bodies,
there was a suspicion that the work available expanded in relation to the
numbers employed, and after 1785 the élus launched a concerted, if largely
unsuccessful, attempt to trim the size of the bureaux.62
If the activities of the bureaux of the secrétaires des états were relatively
eclectic, they were joined in the course of the eighteenth century by a
number of new creations to handle specific tasks. In 1756, the negotiation of
an abonnement made it necessary to establish a separate bureau des vingtièmes
that was occupied almost exclusively by the affairs of that tax. A bureau of
ponts et chaussées was formed in 1782,63 reflecting both the growing stature
of the provincial engineer, who presided over it, and the scale of the public
works under his supervision. Finally, in 1774, a bureau des archives, to which
historians will for ever owe a debt, was created with the aim of bringing
order to the ever more voluminous quantity of paper generated by the
Estates.
The archivists were able to build on solid ground. The need for such a
service had been recognised since at least 1677, when the élus discovered
that their ‘registers, especially the most ancient, were in a wretched state’.64
61 Ibid.
62 ADCO C 3454, deliberations of 3, 4, 10 February 1786, and P. Bodineau, ‘Fonctionnaires régionaux’,
147–61.
63 Bodineau, ‘Fonctionnaires régionaux’, 148. 64 ADCO C 3458.
Their solution had been to appoint the commis, Jean Gelyot, to make copies
of those papers most in danger of perishing. As rats and mice were con-
suming vast quantities of the provincial heritage, they also instructed the
secrétaire des états, Julien, to order the manufacture of several stout chests
where the precious documents could be kept under lock and key. These
wise precautions had the double advantage of frustrating unwanted ver-
min, while simultaneously thwarting their two-legged counterparts who
had been borrowing provincial papers and not returning them.65 It was
not until the reign of Louis XV that further advances in the conservation
of the provincial archival record were achieved. After prompting from the
alcades, backed by several décrets of the Estates, the élus ordered the com-
pilation of a general ‘inventory’ of the archives.66 Calls were also made at
the Estates for the establishment of ‘an alphabetic table of all the décrets
and deliberations contained in the province’s registers as well as the subjects
on which they were formed’.67 Work was begun in 1764, but it was not
until 1774 that Simon Bernard Masson was named as the official archivist,
working under the orders of the secrétaires des états. Henceforth he was to
act as the guardian of the documentary patrimony, no papers could leave
the archives without his accord, and he was to supervise the progress of the
‘inventory’.
If these were the principal responsibilities of the five bureaux in existence
by the reign of Louis XVI, whom did they employ? In 1778, the élus fixed
the numbers of personnel and the pay of their employees in four of the
five bureaux. Each had a first commis, paid gages of 3,000 livres annually,
and a second commis, who received between 1,400 and 2,000 livres for his
services, and there were a further thirty-four clerks.68 To this it is necessary
to add the bureau of ponts et chaussées, with a first and second commis and
six juniors.69 A policy of rationalisation and cost-cutting during the 1780s
did temporarily reduce the costs of the bureaux from a high of 81,900 livres
in 1784 to just 72,000 livres in 1789. The effects of this purge were likely to
be short-lived because the imposition of a salary scale and a pension scheme
meant that costs would have risen automatically after 1790.70
By the reign of Louis XVI, it was certainly permissible to talk of a
salaried bureaucracy, and the élus had come to accept the need to treat
their employees in a consistent fashion. Before 1750, the gages paid to the
first commis were expected to be used, in part, to cover the costs of the
65 Ibid., deliberation of 31 March 1676. 66 ADCO C 3004, fol. 356, and C 3005, fol. 85.
67 ADCO C 3458, deliberation of 10 January 1764.
68 ADCO C 3453, deliberation of 16 December 1778.
69 Bodineau, ‘Fonctionnaires régionaux’, 156. 70 ADCO C 3455.
junior clerks they employed on an ad hoc basis.71 The élus recognised
the shortcomings of this system in a deliberation of 1752, noting in their
preamble that:
affairs having increased [in number] and become more significant than ever be-
fore, it is just that the principal clerks and their subordinates, who have rendered
themselves worthy by their constancy and diligence, are assured of a secure and
stable lot.
Thereafter they were paid an annual sum in six monthly instalments, and
the system was gradually extended to all the clerks working in the bureau.72
As salaries became regularised, the élus took a greater interest in the
activities of the bureaux. Concerned about rumours of idle clerks, they
issued the deliberation of 31 December 1767 stipulating that its employees:
shall be required to enter the bureau at 8 o’clock and to remain until midday, to
return at 2 o’clock until 7 o’clock . . . and to spend their time usefully, on pain of
loss [of salary] not only of days or half-days, but even of the hours for which they
were absent.73
A desire to police the activities of the clerks also inspired the deliberation
of July 1784, stating ‘that no person employed by the province shall fill any
office or serve in any other administration’.74 Here was a clear example
of how far the provincial administration had moved in the direction of
establishing a permanent and stable personnel, and it went further by
recognising its obligations towards its employees by introducing a system
of retirement pensions in a deliberation of February 1786.75 In 1789, a total
of eleven retired clerks were sharing 9,800 livres annually with pensions
varying from 330 to 2,400 livres.76
Had the revolution not interrupted these reforms, it is likely that they
would have reinforced the already pronounced loyalty of the clerks to the
institution of the Estates. On the eve of the revolution, four first commis
could point to a combined total of seventy-eight years service, with Si-
mon Bernard Masson and François Herbert accounting for thirty-two and
twenty-nine years respectively. They were typical of the period as a whole,
and they highlight the contradictions common to many late eighteenth-
century institutions. While new working practices, regular salaries and
pensions seem to point towards modern bureaucratic norms, they should
not be allowed to disguise the persistence of patrimonialism.77 Of the first
72 ADCO C 3456–7, deliberations of 26 November 1756 and 2 January 1760.
73 ADCO C 3456, deliberation of 31 December 1767. 74 Ibid., deliberation of 16 July 1784.
75 ADCO C 3456. 76 ADCO C 3455. 77 Church, Revolution and red tape, pp. 1–68, 307–16.
and second commis in 1780s, Clement, Jacob, Herbert and Guillemin, to
name just a few, had their sons serving as ordinary clerks in one or other
of the bureaux, but a hint of change was in the air.78 When contemplating
a reduction in the number of clerks, the élus were advised that there were
only two points to consider: ‘Firstly, that the élus only take years of service
into consideration when all else is equal, and that as a consequence they
choose the most intelligent, conscientious and honest clerks with the finest
handwriting.’79 For the unfortunate Gouveau, cursed with a particularly
illegible hand, twenty-eight years of service as a clerk was about to come to
an end.80
His compulsory early retirement offered a poignant example of the
changes taking place within the administration after 1750. In terms of
recruitment, the bureaux were still staffed by men who owed their position
to the presence of another family member and/or the patronage of the
governor, an élu or another influential powerbroker.81 Respect for tradition
was strong, and when the comte de Saint-Florentin attempted to secure
the position of first commis for one of his protégés the élus replied that they
had already appointed a candidate, who had the advantage of ‘forefathers’
who had distinguished themselves in their service.82 Yet despite the im-
portance of these traditional attitudes, there was a growing emphasis upon
the personal qualities of the clerks, who, in return for regular pay and re-
tirement pensions, were expected to display the virtues of punctuality and
competence and commit themselves to the Estates as their sole employer,
forsaking the temptations of moonlighting that had been the only way of
making ends meet for their predecessors.
There were also less tangible changes, with the work of the bureaux
acquiring greater respect. A particularly striking example was provided by
the career of Philippe Joseph Jarrin. After being appointed procureur syndic
of the Estates in 1776, he made the remarkable decision to switch to the post
of first commis in the bureau des vingtièmes in 1783.83 Although an isolated
example, the willingness of Jarrin to change career in this fashion underlines
the growing stature of the first commis. When the revolution swept the
provincial administration away, most would have no trouble finding work in
78 ADCO 1 F 460, fols. 221–2, and C 3468, contain lists of those employed in the bureaux.
79 ADCO C 3453, ‘Mémoire pour servir de suite au mémoire rélatif au travail des bureaux’.
80 Ibid.
81 For examples of individuals securing places within the bureaux for their protégés see: ADCO C
3361, fol. 254, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 2 December 1756, and C 3362, fol. 106, Saint-Florentin to
the élus, 14 July 1761.
82 ADCO C 3363, fols. 114–15, secrétaire des états Rousselot to Saint-Florentin, July 1771.
83 ADCO C 3454, and C 3365, fol. 140, the élus to Amelot, 3 July 1783.
the new departments created in its wake.84 The more ambitious would even
make careers on the national stage, and former commis Claude Basire was
briefly a member of the Committee of General Security before becoming
a victim of the guillotine in April 1794.85 Not that all of those employed by
the province were clerks, and a variety of specialists were also at the disposal
of the élus including an architect, a doctor, a gardener, two notaries, four
huissiers and several veterinary surgeons and, after 1766, the inspector of
the provincial stud. Others could be added to the list, but here were the
most prominent servants of the Estates.
mayo r s a n d re c e i ve r s – t h e p rov i n ce ’s s u b d e le g at e s
The élus could thus call upon the services of the permanent officers and their
clerks in Dijon, but for their policies to become a reality in the province at
large it was necessary to have agents in the towns and countryside. In the pays
d’élections, the intendants had by the end of the seventeenth century adopted
the practice of employing subdelegates to provide them with information
and enforce their instructions. Burgundy had more than its fair share of
subdelegates,86 but for the élus to rely upon the intendant’s right-hand men
risked setting a potentially dangerous precedent. Instead, they developed
their own parallel administrative network based upon the fifteen receivers
of the taille and the mayors of the principal towns. Appointments to these
positions were closely monitored by the governor, or by the élus, acting in
the name of the Estates. The receivers held revocable commissions, while
the province had owned the mayors’ offices since 1696. The élus could,
therefore, count on their loyalty, and both groups had been integrated
into the clientèle and kinship networks that we have already identified
when examining the membership of the chamber of élus.
The receivers were naturally implicated in nearly all matters affecting
taxation, and they also assisted with just about every other aspect of the
provincial administration, including raising the militia, pursuing deserters,
reimbursing the military étapes and collecting information about commu-
nities or individuals.87 Indeed no task was considered beyond the receivers,
and Perrin of Charolles was ordered to conduct a survey of the river Arroux
to see if it could be rendered navigable.88 Within the towns the mayors were
84 Bodineau, ‘Fonctionnaires régionaux’, 154.

85 Garnier and Muteau, Galerie Bourguignonne, i, p. 39. 86 Root, Peasants and king, p. 13.
87 The registers of the chamber are full of deliberations of this type, for example, ADCO C 3166, fol.
327, C 3165, fol. 39, and C 3174, fol. 248.
88 C 3360, fol. 85, Bernard de Blancey to Perrin, 21 March 1731.
expected to provide a similar range of services, even to the extent of acting
as informants on the conduct of the receivers!89 To a certain extent, the élus
treated the mayors as the equivalent of subdelegates, and they were wary
of those individuals who sought to combine both positions.90 The case of
Jean-François Maufoux, mayor of Beaune, and a highly valued subdelegate
of intendant Amelot, proved this very clearly. Having annoyed the élus for
allegedly failing to cooperate in the composition of a nouveau pied de taille,
he was sacked in December 1768.91 The intervention of Amelot, and an
apology from Maufoux, was sufficient to secure his reinstatement a few
weeks later, but it was not the end of the story. Maufoux again fell foul of
the élus in February 1781, this time for intervening in the administration
of the corvée in his capacity as subdelegate, without first obtaining autho-
risation from the chamber in Dijon. Suspecting that he was deliberately
seeking to undermine their authority, Marbeuf, bishop of Autun and élu
of the clergy, informed the other élus that ‘this trap set for the administra-
tion by an agent of its authority is a crime for which you must punish the
author’.92 The mayor was promptly dismissed, and not even the continued
support of Amelot, now a prominent minister of Louis XVI, was enough
to save him.
As assistants to the administration and potential élus or alcades, the may-
ors were important men whose appointment had always been a significant
matter. The governor had traditionally kept a very close eye on those cho-
sen, and when, in 1700, it proved difficult to find a suitable buyer for
the office in Autun, Henri-Jules ordered the élus to provide part of the
finance needed to ensure that his preferred candidate could make the nec-
essary transaction.93 The duc de Bourbon followed a similar strategy in
1715, when he discovered that the prohibitive cost of acquiring the offices
was keeping out ‘deserving subjects’, ordering the élus ‘to reimburse part
of the finance of their office’.94 After the duc’s death in 1740, the élus were
allowed more independence, appointing and dismissing the mayors with
comparatively little interference from either the governor or the crown.
Not that a great deal changed, and in most towns the mayors continued to
be drawn from the same family, with a relative of the previous incumbent
being smoothly accepted by élus and ministers alike.
89 ADCO C 3167, deliberation of 22 March 1720.
90 ADCO C 3046, fols. 288–9. At the Estates of 1778, the chamber of the nobility had declared that
the two roles were ‘entièrement incompatibles’, and urged the élus to stamp out the practice.
91 ADCO C 3363, fol. 24, the élus to Condé, 5 January 1769.
92 ADCO C 3364, fols. 248–9, bishop of Autun to the élus, 30 December 1780.
93 ADCO C 3145, fols. 165–6, Henri-Jules to the élus, 24 March 1700.
94 ADCO C 3161, fols. 176–7, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 5 June 1715.
When new blood was required, or a competitor with good connections
arrived on the scene matters could become more complicated. Thus despite
nearly twenty years of blameless service, mayor Baudinot of Charolles was
deposed because Mlle de Sens, princesse de Condé, wanted the position for
one of her protégés.95 When one of les grands, especially one belonging to
the House of Bourbon-Condé, intervened the élus were unlikely to resist.
In general, however, they were allowed to act with a degree of freedom, and,
where possible, they defended the interests of a local man against outside
interference. When the secretary of state, Saint-Florentin, ordered that
Didier, mayor of Saint-Seine, be sacked for allegedly being illiterate and too
poor to merit such a distinguished position, the élus first ignored his demand
and then subsequently ensured that the office passed to Didier’s son-in-
law.96 Many other examples of the élus protecting the mayors could be
cited, but what motivated them above all was respect for those individuals,
or families, that had proved themselves by loyal service.
Only in the case of those towns within the grand roue, where the may-
ors were likely to become élus, was that rule broken. When Jean-Baptiste
Ligeret, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges and élu of the third estate died only
months into the triennalité of 1778 to 1781, his colleagues were faced with
precisely this predicament. As secrétaire des états, Rousselot, observed in
a letter to the bishop of Autun, sentiment pointed towards his younger
brother, but this must be ‘subordinated to the ability and intelligence re-
quired of the mayor of a town’.97 Unfortunately, the brother was still very
young, and more tellingly ‘he has little aptitude for affairs and even less
experience and without discussing his intelligence, we can at least be cer-
tain that it has not yet developed’. With such a damning reference Ligeret
was unlikely to go far, and Rousselot, writing on behalf of the chamber,
instead praised the virtues of a second candidate, Étienne Gilles. Although
not much older, he was described in glowing terms as a young man, mature
beyond his years, with ‘the gift of conciliation’ essential for the office to
which he aspired. Not surprisingly, Gilles was chosen, yet, as Rousselot
confirmed, what helped to sway opinions in his favour was his ‘unselfish
conduct as he offered to give his fees for the triennalité to Ligeret’s children,
only reserving for himself sufficient to pay for the voyage of honour and his
residence in Dijon’.98 Through this generous arrangement, the province
acquired a talented and apparently benevolent élu, and the Ligeret were
compensated for their loss.
95 ADCO C 3360, f. 208, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 19 July 1741.
96 Ibid., fols. 88–9, Didier to Bernard de Blancey, 13 November 1760.
97 ADCO C 3364, fols. 124–5, Rousselot to the bishop of Autun, 10 November 1778. 98 Ibid.
We are well informed about the social backgrounds and professional
lives of the province’s mayors.99 Far less is known about the receivers, and
in the light of their importance to the administration it is instructive to
investigate them in some detail. The receivers were not officeholders in the
same way as magistrates in the Parlement or Chambre des Comptes. Instead,
they held a commission from the Estates, for which they advanced the
finance, usually in the region of 50,000 livres, together with a substantial
deposit of some 20,000–30,000 livres. The Estates had the right to revoke
the commission and to reimburse the holder whenever they saw fit, and
unlike the crown they had the means and often the will to do so.100 In
general, however, they condoned the practice of receivers passing on their
commission to a close relative, and even allowed the sale of the commission
if the correct procedures were followed. What that meant in reality was
securing the prior agreement of the governor, or, at the very least, that of
the élus, for the proposed transaction. After 1740, the procedure altered
to the extent that it became necessary to consult the secretary of state in
Versailles, something which was bitterly contested by the Estates.101
It has been possible to identify a total of 109 individuals who held the
commission of receiver in the fifteen bailliages that were under the direct
orders of the élus in Dijon between 1661 and 1789 (see appendix 14).102
They were a tight-knit group, representing sixty separate families, which
were, as one might expect, united by professional solidarity and strong
ties of kinship. Once established as a receiver, there was a tendency to put
down deep roots. The commission of the bailliage of Avallon was held
continuously by the Deschamps family from 1684 to 1789, and they si-
multaneously exercised the charge in Auxerre from 1684 until 1784, when
Joseph-Guillaume-Augustin Deschamps de Charmelieu fled after getting
into financial difficulties.103 Stability was a feature of several other bail-
liages, notably Beaune, where four generations of the David family acted as
receivers between 1695 and the revolution, Chalon-sur-Saône, which was
controlled by the Petit and Burgat clans from 1660 to 1786, and Auxonne,
where the Suremain family reigned supreme from 1639 to 1763. If these
were amongst the longest-serving families, almost all of those to hold a
commission attempted to transform it into part of their patrimony. Many
of the receivers held the position throughout their careers, and men such
99 Thanks principally to the scholarship of Lamarre, Petites villes.

100 In the period after 1661, the number of receivers was gradually reduced to one for each bailliage.
101 See chapter 8.
102 The list is not exhaustive and the record of the earlier period is rather sketchy.
103 ADCO C 3434, deliberation of 16 November 1784.
as Charles Languet, receiver of Arnay-le-Duc from 1701 to 1742, Nicolas
Seguin, his counterpart in Dijon from 1702 to 1752, and Claude Petit,
receiver of Saint-Laurent-lès-Chalon from 1728 to 1773, were notable ex-
amples of a more general pattern.
Any individual lucky enough to be involved with the ancien régime’s tax
collecting system was liable to become rich in the process. The receivers
of the Estates of Burgundy were no exception, and one or two generations
of service was enough to amass the fortune required to buy an office in
one of Dijon’s great law courts. Thus the Suremain, Rémond, Perrin and
David clans all produced councillors in the Parlement of Dijon. Nicolas
Seguin provided a shining example of what could be achieved by a successful
receiver. He was appointed to one of the three commissions of the bailliage
of Dijon in 1702, but his good fortune was in no way accidental. The
vacancy was created by the decision of the holder, Jean-Baptiste Jannon,
whose family had been in office since 1679, to sell to Bonnard, a member
of another clan of receivers from Arnay-le-Duc. They made the terrible
mistake of concocting the deal without reference to either Chantilly, or the
élus. The consequences were grim. Having been informed of their plans,
the governor vetoed the sale, ordering the chamber to reimburse Jannon
and award his commission to Seguin.104
Seguin was already acting as the commis of Jannon, and he was clearly well
placed to profit from the misfortunes of his superior. There was, however,
much more to the story. Although a member of a relatively undistinguished
bourgeois family from Chalon-sur-Saône, Seguin’s mother was Thomasse
Lamy, and she provided the key to his future career. By 1702, Seguin’s rela-
tive, Edme Lamy, was one of the great success stories of Burgundian finance.
Having started as the procureur and receveur des épices of the Chambre des
Comptes in 1678, he had progressed to the office of receiver general of the
taillon in Burgundy by 1689.105 He expanded his empire rapidly thereafter,
becoming receiver for the bailliage of Nuits-Saint-Georges in 1692, and re-
ceiver general of the province’s salt tax (crues) in 1702.106 Three years later,
he added the farm of the octrois on the river Saône to an already impressive
portfolio.107 The purchase of an office of secrétaire du roi meant that worldly
success was crowned by the acquisition of noble status.108 After a brief scare
during the Regency, when the Chamber of Justice threatened Lamy, his
brilliant rise was crowned in 1725 with a sign of royal favour when his estate
of La Perrière was granted the title of ‘marquisat’.
104 ADCO C 3147, fols. 514–15, 554–5, deliberation of 24 October 1702, and the letter of Henri-Jules
to the élus, 12 December 1702.
105 D’Arbaumont, Chambre des comptes, p. 263. 106 ADCO C 3429.
107 ADCO C 3149, fols. 754–7. 108 D’Arbaumont, Chambre des comptes, p. 263.
It was to Lamy that Seguin owed his own elevation. Once the élus had
awarded him the receivership of Dijon, the two men were quick to visit
a notary where Seguin described the real nature of the transaction. He
acknowledged that:
he has absolutely nothing in the said office of receiver and he has only lent his name
to Edme Lamy . . . the said commission belongs to the said Lamy who is the real
proprietor and that he [Seguin] holds it only as a precarious holding, recognising
that the said Lamy has provided from his own fortune the sum of 51,188 livres
which he has paid to our lords the élus.109
Seguin could have added that his benefactor had also provided the deposit
of 30,000 livres required by the Estates.110 In return, he had agreed to act
as a loyal commis of Lamy, to make over to his patron whatever portion of
his gages requested of him and to resign if asked to do so.111
There could be no doubt about who was the master in the relationship,
but Seguin proved to be a gifted apprentice. As Lamy gradually relinquished
his hold on his various offices, presumably to enjoy the fruits of life as
the marquis de La Perrière he made his young relative his beneficiary.112
Seguin thus became receiver of the taillon in the province, while his younger
brother, who was revealingly called Edme, secured the blessing of the duc
de Bourbon to succeed his uncle as receiver of Nuits-Saint-Georges and as
receveur des épices of the Chambre des Comptes.113 Both brothers subsequently
bought offices of secrétaire du roi, and ended their lives as members of the
second estate. The rise of the Lamy and Seguin families was typical, with
rapid social ascension made possible by access to the tax system. Moreover,
the way in which Lamy ensured that his nephews benefited from his own
success was part of a more general pattern. When Edme Seguin parted from
the receivership of Nuits-Saint-Georges in 1753, he had already secured the
survivance on the office for his nephew, Edme Fabry.114 The Fabry family
themselves were following the well-beaten track of social improvement,
serving as the farmers of the octrois on the river Saône. When they in turn
passed the receivership to Bernard Mollerat in 1780, there was yet another
family connection with Bernard’s nephew having married the daughter
of Edme Fabry two years earlier.115 Finally, in 1785, young Bernard Fabry,
109 ADCO C 3448. The notarial deed is dated 5 November 1702.
110 ADCO C 3432. 111 ADCO C 3448.
112 Lamy’s own sons were destined for higher things with one serving as a president in the Chambre des
Comptes and another as a judge in the Parlement of Besançon, D’Arbaumont, Chambre des comptes,
p. 263.
113 ADCO C 3433, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 20 December 1730.
114 Ibid., deliberation of 3 December 1749.
115 A. Bourée, La chancellerie près le Parlement de Bourgogne de 1476 à 1790 avec les noms généalogies et
armoiries de ses officiers (Dijon, 1927), pp. 206–7.
procureur général of the Table de Marbre of Dijon, proposed marriage to
the daughter of the recently deceased Étienne de Charolles, receiver of
Châtillon-sur-Seine, on condition that the family secure the commission for
him.116 While hardly the most romantic of gestures, his offer was accepted.
Closer examination of the other receivers would reveal many more exam-
ples of the family strategies and kinship ties that bound them together, or
linked them to the entourage of the governor, the members of the sovereign
courts or the administration of the Estates. As families such as the Lamy,
Fabry and Seguin bought their way into these bodies, they found them-
selves sitting on benches alongside the scions of the Rémond or Suremain
clans who had blazed the trail before them. Becoming part of the provincial
robe nobility was not, however, incompatible with the continued exercise
of a receivership, and fear of dérogeance or of being tainted by connection to
the world of finance did not cause these families to sever their connections
with their old profession. As a result, there were very few opportunities for
newcomers to take advantage of the system.
Whenever a vacancy occurred, those within the provincial administra-
tion, and especially the chamber of élus, were best placed to win the prize.
Just such a case arose in the bailliage of Châtillon-sur-Seine after the death
of Joseph François Rémond in 1755.117 Perhaps unduly complacent after
holding the commission for nearly a century, the Rémond had not taken
the precaution of arranging the survivance, and they suddenly found them-
selves in a desperate fight to retrieve the situation. Alexandre de Mairetet,
councillor in the Parlement of Dijon and the uncle of the late receiver, tried
hard to win the commission for his own son.118 Despite his eminence and
the otherwise impeccable credentials of the Rémond, the commission was
given to Étienne Thomas Marlot, son of the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon.
As he was too young to assume the office, François Jouard, mayor of
Châtillon-sur-Seine and currently the élu of the third estate, was named as
his commis.119 That the vicomte-mayeur and Jouard were able to stage this
coup was due to a fortuitous combination of circumstances, but their case
was not unique. In 1786, François Noirot, mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône and
élu of the third estate, managed to secure the commission of that bailliage
when the long reign of the Burgat family came to an end.120
116 ADCO C 3449.
117 For details of the struggle for the commission, see: ADCO C 3433, E 1245 and E 1585.
118 ADCO E 1245, Rigoley d’Ogny to Mairetet, 14 March 1755.
119 He in turn appointed Pierre d’Autecloche as his deputy for the remainder of the triennalité, and it
was not until 1761 that Marlot finally took up his post.
120 ADCO C 3434, deliberation of 4 April 1786. Jean Burgat de Taisé had recently died without a direct
male heir.
Choosing receivers from within the local elite was perfectly natural in
the political and social context of the times, and it had the added advantage
of keeping a veil drawn over the affairs of the Estates. The receivers were
thus of a similar stamp to the other servants of the Estates, they were almost
exclusively local men, profiting from their involvement in the fiscal system
to amass the wealth and contacts needed to join the robe elite. Their success
depended upon the goodwill of the Estates, and with the ever-present
threat of removal they could be expected to serve the élus loyally, while
simultaneously feathering their own nests. That the provincial government
should rely so heavily upon the service of the receivers was a real weakness,
equating other mundane administrative tasks with the hated ‘fisc’. All that
can be said in their defence is that they possessed the means to carry out
these duties cheaply because, like the mayors, they received no additional
payments for their services.
a d m i n i s t r at i ve p r i d e
Within the administration there was a strong sense of corporate solidarity,
and the Estates took pride in the achievements of their officers. The élus thus
petitioned the king to bestow the cordon de Saint Michel on the provincial
engineers, Thomas Dumorey and Emiliand Gauthey.121 When informed
that the honour was reserved for those possessing ‘hereditary nobility’,
something neither Dumorey nor Gauthey could boast, the élus began a
campaign on their behalf.122 They called upon the assistance of the governor,
secretary of state and other influential figures and eventually both men
received lettres de noblesse. It is true that Dumorey had fought and been
wounded at the siege of Fribourg, but it was his service to the Estates
of Burgundy, not his valour, which had raised him into the ranks of the
second estate.123 That the élus should have been concerned about the dignity
of their engineers, to the extent of designing a special uniform for them
to wear at the assemblies of the Estates in 1786, was indicative of their
growing stature within the administration. They were not, however, the
only recipients of such favour. In the same year, the élus wrote to the garde
des sçeaux, Miromesnil, supporting mayor Baudesson of Auxerre who was
seeking the title of conseiller d’état. They noted that ‘this reward would be
121 ADCO C 3356, fols. 10, 201, Vergennes to the élus, 22 November 1775, and Amelot to the élus, 22
June 1783.
122 ADCO C 3363, fols. 225, 234, the élus to Saint-Florentin and the prince de Condé, 26 November
1774.
123 ADCO C 3362, fol. 218, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 10 January 1765.
the prize for the long and distinguished service that he and his forefathers
have rendered to the city of Auxerre and it will serve as a model for the
other mayors of the province’.124
Recognition for individuals was accompanied by more general attempts
to raise the prestige of the mayors. Although Necker turned down a request
from the Estates that they be granted exemption from the franc fief in
1779,125 other honours were granted. In 1758, for example, the chamber
persuaded the crown that mayors who had served for twenty years ‘to
the satisfaction of their superiors and the public’, should enjoy exemption
from both the taille and the obligation to billet troops, ‘in order that this
privilege should act as an incentive’.126 The élus were clearly delighted to
secure these privileges for those in their service, but they wanted them to be
earned. When François Jouard, mayor of Châtillon-sur-Seine, succeeded in
persuading the comte de Saint-Florentin to support his request to retire with
full privileges after just fifteen years in office, the élus were unimpressed.127
While happy to praise his conduct as both a mayor and a former élu, they
still felt it necessary to inform the minister that ‘we cannot fail to remind
you, sir, that it sets a bad precedent to bestow this privilege before the
twenty years of service are complete’. To serve the Estates was honourable
and rewarding, but it was not a sinecure and Jouard was obliged to remain
at his post until 1768.
‘Our lords the élus’ were permanently on guard against any slight to their
authority, and a peasant who dared to oppose the muster for the militia,
evade the corvée or insult a member of the administration could expect
punishment. Those of a higher social station also needed to be wary of
offending the élus, as their response to an insult addressed to the secrétaire
des états, Bernard de Blancey, when levying the militia makes clear. The
quarrel arose when a local noblewoman, Mlle de Chastenay, attempted to
exempt her servant from drawing lots.128 This was contrary to the royal
ordinances on the matter, and Bernard turned down her request. The lady
was outraged, and sent the secrétaire a scornful letter in which she claimed
to have ‘powerful means of humiliating’ those who dared to challenge
her authority. In his reply, Bernard explained why he had been obliged
to act against her wishes, adding good-naturedly that he had originally
124 ADCO C 3357, fol. 186, the élus to Miromesnil, 16 November 1786.
125 ADCO C 3364, fols. 181–2, Necker to the élus, 12 September 1779.
126 ADCO C 3362, fols. 34–5, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 26 June 1758.
127 ADCO C 3363, fols. 104–5, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 26 July 1761.
128 ADCO C 3362, fols. 52–3, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 23 November 1758, and ibid., fol. 54, ‘Extrait
de la réponse faitte par M. de Blancey à Mlle de Chastenay, 20 Octobre 1758’.
believed her letter to be for his ‘lackey’. Matters might have rested there
had not Mlle de Chastenay’s brother, an infantry captain, intervened with
a further letter, containing ‘everything contemptible and insulting that it is
possible to address to an honourable man’.129 An angry Bernard demanded
satisfaction from the élus, who wrote immediately to both Saint-Florentin
and the prince de Condé, asking rhetorically who would accept his duties
‘if it was necessary to be the butt of the scorn and insults of the first who,
rightly or wrongly, claims to be dissatisfied with his work’.130 The reply
from Versailles was swift. On the orders of the governor, Chastenay was
arrested and imprisoned in the château of Dijon.131 Within days the élus
were writing to ask for his liberation, which was quickly accorded. From
the perspective of the élus the point had been made. No individual, not
even one of the highest social station, could challenge their authority with
impunity.
Malesherbes was perfectly correct in his assessment that the chamber
of élus was as busy as any intendance, and it was responsible for the vast
majority of fiscal and administrative tasks in the duchy and comtés. He was,
however, either mistaken or disingenuous to imply that the élus neglected
pressing affairs by allowing their doors to remain closed. Instead, they ig-
nored the official timetable, and assembled regularly throughout the year to
attend to a wide range of fiscal and administrative tasks. In doing so, they
called upon the expertise of their permanent officials and of an increasingly
professional and numerous bureaucracy. By the reign of Louis XVI, the com-
mis and clerks toiling away in Dijon were displaying certain characteristics
of modern officialdom, with regular working patterns, salaries, pensions
and other benefits. Yet we should avoid exaggerating the degree of admin-
istrative modernity. These same officials continued to function within a
system shaped by patrimonialism and the exercise of patronage, something
that was even more marked in the case of the mayors and the receivers of
the taille. The administration of the Estates had much in common with
other ancien régime institutions, and it was certainly not as archaic as some
of its more extravagant critics have maintained. Instead, it had proved itself
to be flexible and adaptable, coping effectively with a heavier and more
complex workload. We now need to examine to what ends its power and
authority was directed.
129 Ibid., fols. 52–3. 130 Ibid., fol. 53.

131 ADCO C 3362, fol. 58, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 16 December 1758, and ibid., fols. 59–60, the
prince de Condé to the élus, 16 December 1758.
chapter 6
‘It’s raining taxes’. Paying for the Sun King,

1661–1715
In the course of his long literary correspondence with his friend Soyrot, the
Burgundian savant, Bernard de La Monnoye, paused to reflect upon the
inclement state of natural and human affairs. He wrote:
to the devil with the war which brings us so many taxes, the year, as you know, has
been extremely wet, the rain has finally ceased, it is only the taxes that never end
and keep falling still.1
His letter was written in 1689, and although he could not have foreseen it
the fiscal precipitations of the first half of Louis XIV’s reign had been no
more than an unpleasant shower, the second half would bring a deluge.
In the autumn of 1688, the aggressive policies of the Sun King plunged
France into the ruinous War of the League of Augsburg (1688–97), against
what would prove to be a powerful coalition of European states.2 After
nine years of fighting, for little apparent gain, the peace of Ryswick offered
an exhausted kingdom the much-needed prospect of peace. The death of
the childless Charles II of Spain in 1700, and the dying monarch’s decision
to bequeath his throne to Louis XIV’s grandson, dashed those hopes. By
accepting the will, the French king committed his people to the no less
costly War of the Spanish Succession (1701–13), which by 1709 had brought
France close to collapse and foreign invasion.
In their desperate attempts to pay for these conflicts, successive fi-
nance ministers introduced two new direct taxes, the capitation and the
dixième, while simultaneously exploiting almost every other conceivable
fiscal expedient.3 In a period marked by harsh climatic conditions and
economic stagnation, the results were catastrophic. Millions died from
starvation, or from the diseases that preyed upon a weak and malnourished
1 BN MS Fr 10435, fols. 16–17, La Monnoye to Soyrot, undated 1689.

2 J. Lynn, The wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714 (London, 1999), pp. 191–360, provides the essential guide.
3 Collins, The state in early modern France, pp. 140–6, 163–72, and Kwass, Privilege and politics,
pp. 23–61.
154
Paying for the Sun King, 1661–1715 155
population.4 Here was the grim reality of life for those who lived in the
shadow of the Sun King, and Burgundy was not spared its share of the
hardship. As the crown looked around for the funds needed to keep its
armies in the field, it was the Estates that had to face the fiscal onslaught5
and the system established between 1689 and 1715 would endure in most of
its principal characteristics until the revolution.
Detailed investigation of the Burgundian fiscal system is important be-
cause it provides a means of testing different scholarly interpretations of
‘absolutism’, and the monarchy’s precise relationship with the provincial
estates. Russell Major suggested that during the 1660s and 1670s their tra-
ditional independence was eroded as they gradually abandoned the practice
of haggling with the king’s representatives about the size of the don gratuit,
or other royal taxation.6 In Burgundy, the effects of this more authoritar-
ian mode of government were striking, and according to Major ‘the will
of the Estates had been broken’ by 1674.7 Recent revisionist historiogra-
phy has downplayed the coercive nature of Louis XIV’s rule, preferring to
highlight the degree of cooperation between the provincial estates and the
government of Louis XIV.8 It is, therefore, helpful to examine whether the
Estates of Burgundy were cowed into submission as was once thought, or if
they too were charmed by the prospect of collaboration with the king. No
less important is the need to examine whether or not the relationship con-
structed during the first two decades of the reign was maintained during the
troubled years after 1689. Much revisionist historiography of ‘absolutism’,
is firmly anchored in the earlier period,9 but it was the War of the League
of Augsburg that marked the beginning of the real trial of the monarchical
state. It was a period that would reveal the flexibility of the Estates, and the
ability of representative institutions to protect their own interests, while
providing a vital service to the state.
t h e rewa rd s o f o b e d i e n c e
The beginning of Louis XIV’s personal rule coincided with a severe subsis-
tence crisis which encouraged the already truculent Estates to do all in their
4 Two impressive recent studies of these events are M. Lachiver, Les années de misère: la famine au temps
du grand roi (Paris, 1991), and W. G. Monahan, Year of sorrows. The great famine of 1709 in Lyon
(Colombus, 1993).
5 For a more detailed analysis of the fiscal consequences, see J. Swann, ‘War and finance in Louis
XIV’s Burgundy, 1661–1715’, in M. Ormrod, M. Bonney and R. Bonney, eds., Crises, revolutions and
self-sustained growth. Essays in European fiscal history, 1130–1830 (Stamford, 1999), pp. 293–322.
7 Ibid ., p. 640, and his more recent work Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. 344.
8 See: Beik, Absolutism and society; Bohanan, Crown and nobility; and Collins, Classes, estates and order.
9 See chapter 2.
power to evade his fiscal demands. Using a strategy that combined resis-
tance and procrastination in almost equal measure, they pushed legitimate
opposition to its limits. At the Estates of 1658, the chambers effectively
ignored the presence of Louis XIV and cardinal Mazarin in Dijon, and
offered the derisory sum of 300,000 livres in don gratuit, when asked for
the considerably more imposing contribution of 1.8 million livres.10 No
amount of threats or entreaties could persuade the deputies to meet the
king’s demands, not even when it was made clear that he would accept
a lower figure than that initially requested. For their temerity, the Estates
were dismissed and then reconvened at Noyers, where the effects of disgrace
persuaded them to promise the 1,053,000 livres requested by the king. To
the annoyance of the ministry, the élus then took up the baton, employing
a policy of passive resistance by refusing to levy the necessary taxation for
as long as possible.
It was in these inauspicious circumstances that Louis XIV began his
personal rule, but he was quick to assert his authority. Within a month
of Mazarin’s death, the Grand Condé, who had recently been restored
to the king’s good graces after his treachery during the Fronde, wrote to
the élus, who were refusing to levy part of the taille. He informed them
that:
the king has strongly disapproved of your delay in imposing taxation . . . His Majesty
has done me the honour of speaking about it, and he has informed me that he was
not satisfied by the manner in which you have acted. You will see from his letter
that he does not approve of your plan to send a deputation and that he orders you
to levy the necessary taxation forthwith. I have included with my own letter that
of His Majesty to warn you that you risk incurring his displeasure if you do not
act promptly in accordance with his wishes.11
To ensure that the élus were under no illusions about what was expected of
them, the governor added ‘as for myself, I urge you to give His Majesty the
satisfaction that he desires of you’.
By intervening in this decisive fashion, Louis XIV gave his Burgundian
subjects the first hint of what his personal rule would mean, but the élus
continued their policy of obstruction regardless. Despite the ever more
pressing orders of the governor they refused to comply, citing ‘the absence
of one élu or another’,12 and they persisted in their earlier resolution of
10 Major, Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. 300. The assembly was presided over by the
governor, the duc d’Épernon, but with regular communication with the king and the cardinal,
J. Garnier, Inventaire sommaire: fonds des états de Bourgogne (Dijon, 1959), pp. 25–7.
11 ADCO C 3352, fol. 116, Condé to the élus, 13 April 1661.
12 The phrase is the governor’s, ibid., fol. 119, Condé to the élus, 3 May 1661.
sending a deputation to court with the aim of presenting their woes.13
By the end of June 1661, Condé was thoroughly exasperated, and he sent
the élus a quite remarkable letter washing his hands of their enterprise
altogether, declaring:
since you have resolved to send a deputation here I cannot stop it, all I would say
to you is that I am confident you will not receive satisfaction . . . I am aggrieved to
see you always so opposed to what is asked of you and, in truth, it will be for your
deputies to extricate themselves as best they can because . . . I shall not be able to
offer them any service.14
The élus had proved willing to stand firm against the combined might of
Louis XIV and the Grand Condé, and by the end of the year they were
busily thwarting Colbert. He was anxious to begin negotiations about the
province’s tax contribution for 1662, and he ordered the élus to send a
deputation to Paris.15 In a novel twist to their earlier strategy, they showed
no inclination to make the journey and the governor was again obliged
to intervene.16 Yet, despite the king threatening to send troops into the
province, in April 1662 the élus still owed the royal treasury 360,000 livres
in tax arrears from the previous year, forcing Colbert to accord them a
further delay in making the payment.17
This episode was typical of the relationship between the Estates of
Burgundy and the crown in the third quarter of the seventeenth century,
and the pattern was repeated in the other pays d’états.18 Consent to taxa-
tion was grudging at best, and the élus revealed themselves to be masters
of the art of procrastination. The terrible suffering of the province after
the harvest failure of 1661 undoubtedly stiffened their resolve, and, with
Condé only recently reinstalled as governor and the true meaning of the
king’s personal rule not fully apparent, these were exceptional times. Yet
the willingness of the élus to risk the wrath of the imposing triumvirate of
Louis XIV, the Grand Condé and Colbert, provides ample testimony to
their spirit of independence. When the Estates reassembled in June 1662,
there was every reason to believe that further opposition to royal taxation
would be forthcoming.
In Burgundy, the taille was composed of five separate levies, but the
most substantial were the don gratuit extraordinaire and the subsistance et
13 Ibid., fol. 120, Condé to the élus, 25 May 1661.

14 Ibid., fol. 123, Condé to the élus, 29 June 1661.
15 Ibid., fol. 126, Colbert to the élus, 3 December 1661.
16 Ibid., fol. 127, Condé to the élus, 27 December 1661.
17 Ibid., fol. 147, Colbert to the élus, 29 June 1662.
exemption des gens de guerre.19 The don gratuit was accorded by the Estates
at their triennial assembly, while the subsistance et exemption were subject to
royal commissions, agreed by the élus and approved retrospectively by the
Estates.20 As their names suggest, the subsistance was, in theory, levied to
support royal troops during their winter quarters, while the exemption was
paid to ensure that they were not billeted in Burgundy. The unwillingness
of the Estates to continue paying these commissions at a wartime rate after
the Peace of the Pyrenees in 1659 had been a significant cause of the conflict
with Colbert in 1661–2. It was, however, the don gratuit which remained
the touchstone of local attitudes towards taxation because of its symbolic
importance at the assemblies of the Estates.
In June 1662, Condé was sent to Dijon with orders to obtain a don
gratuit of 1.5 million livres, but, in anticipation of the hard bargaining to
come, he had secret instructions to accept 1.2 million livres.21 Four days
of haggling followed with the Estates making no fewer than six separate
offers, starting at a miserly 500,000 livres and rising slowly to a final total
of 1,050,000 livres.22 They also attempted unsuccessfully to include the
subsistance et exemption as part of the package, and stubbornly refused to do
anything about existing tax arrears, totalling some 220,000 livres, before the
next harvest.23 Having obtained the offer of 1,050,000 livres, the governor
revealed his own bartering skills, informing the deputies that he would
accept 1.2 million livres rather than the 1.5 million livres initially demanded.
He also announced his refusal ‘to make any other proposition to the king’,
adding ‘that they could do nothing better for their own interests than to obey
the king blindly’.24 Even this advice was not enough to inspire obedience,
and Louis XIV eventually received 150,000 livres less than requested in the
governor’s secret instructions. In his analysis of these events, Condé was
generally sympathetic to the Burgundians, noting their good intentions and
the miserable state of the province. It was the chamber of the third estate
that had fought the hardest against the don gratuit, but, as the governor
admitted, ‘that is pardonable because they are the ones who pay nearly all
the taxes’.25
19 They were known as the octroi ordinaire, the don gratuit extraordinaire, the taillon, garnisons and
the subsistance et exemption des gens de guerre. For a useful discussion of the taille in Burgundy, see
d’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne.
20 C. Arbassier, L’absolutisme en Bourgogne. L’intendant Bouchu et son action financière, d’après sa corre-
spondance inédite, 1667–1671 (Paris, 1921), p. 109.
21 See: G. B. Depping, ed., Correspondance administrative sous le règne de Louis XIV , 4 vols. (Paris,
1850–5), i, pp. 424–35; Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 32–7; and Major, Representative
government, p. 639.
22 Depping, Correspondance, i, pp. 428–9. 23 Ibid., p. 432
24 Ibid ., pp. 426–31, Condé to Colbert, 18 June 1662. 25 Ibid.
In these circumstances the government could consider the assembly to
have been a success. Patient bargaining had coaxed forth a don gratuit
equal to that of 1658, and there had been no repeat of the acrimonious
scenes preceding the ‘exile’ to Noyers. As the subsistence crisis eased and
the governor and ministry settled into their respective roles the relationship
between the crown and the Estates improved further. In November 1662,
Condé informed the élus that the king required a contribution of 100,000
livres towards the costs of the Treaty of Dunkirk.26 He informed them that
they should do all in their power to comply, as ‘His Majesty has done me
the honour of speaking about it with great warmth and I am certain that
he will be touched if you make this effort through affection for him’. There
was no repeat of the earlier obstructionism, and to Condé’s delight the
sum was voted without hesitation.27 To draw maximum advantage from
the decision of the élus, he summoned the comte de Chamilly to court
where he made a presentation of the ‘gift’ to a grateful Louis XIV.28 Not
that everything was sweetness and light because in February 1663 Colbert
was still hectoring the élus about the late payment of the subsistance and
exemption.29 Nor was there any appreciable change at the Estates of 1665.
Instead, the pattern of lengthy bargaining was repeated until the crown
secured a don gratuit of 1,050,000 livres.
The outbreak of the War of Devolution in May 1667 determined the
king to summon the Estates of 1668 in January of that year, rather than
in the Spring or early Summer as was traditionally the case. By reducing
the time between meetings of the Estates, the crown could increase its tax
yield if it raised an identical or larger don gratuit. The governor did, in fact,
have similar instructions to those of the previous two meetings, an official
demand of 1.5 million livres, but secret orders stating that 1.2 million would
suffice.30 Neither the war nor the experiences of 1662 or 1665 seemed to
make any impression on the Estates. After their initial deliberations, the
third estate sent deputies to the two privileged chambers in order to deliver
a suitably pathetic discourse, lamenting the misery of the people and their
inability to find the funds needed to match their zeal for the king’s service.31
They proposed a don gratuit of 500,000 livres, a sum increased to 600,000
by the members of the privileged orders. Not surprisingly, the governor was
unimpressed, and a further round of bargaining produced an improved bid
of 700,000 livres.
26 ADCO C 3352, fol. 149, Condé to the élus, 7 November 1662.
29 Ibid., fol. 156, Colbert to the élus, 2 February 1663.
30 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 37. 31 ADCO C 3039, fols. 21–2.
It was hardly a generous offer, and it was further compromised by the
decision of the Estates to attach conditions. When approaching the gov-
ernor, they asked that the king be ‘implored to recognise the innovations
introduced during the last triennalité and [begged] that none will be made
during the present’.32 This was an oblique reference to the early summon-
ing of the Estates and to unpopular increases in the commissions for the
subsistance et exemption, and it illustrates the determination of the assembly
to question almost every royal demand. Condé simply replied ‘that it was
astonishing that less was offered in wartime than during the peace, and
that for all his goodwill for the province he could not accept it because it
is impossible to maintain great armies without money’. Previous experi-
ence suggested that the Estates would have to match the dons gratuits of
1658, 1662 and 1665, but the third estate was in no mood to capitulate.33
Throughout it fought tenaciously to limit the size of the don gratuit, and
when it finally agreed to propose one million livres it was with a string
of conditions attached, including the prior agreement that the king pro-
vide some assistance in paying the sum.34 The governor remained steadfast,
demanding that the conditions be dropped and the offer increased.
These negotiations had now dragged on for more than a week without
producing an acceptable compromise. The Estates, therefore, decided to
change tack, suggesting that the bishop of Autun, Gabriel Roquette, be in-
vited to confer privately with the governor ‘and attempt to discern what His
Majesty desired of the Estates’.35 Once these discussions were completed,
the governor sanctioned an extraordinary general assembly of the three
chambers to hear the bishop’s report. Roquette informed the deputies that
the governor’s instructions were to obtain 1.2 million livres, adding that the
prince had nevertheless agreed to write on their behalf if they refused to offer
more. In response, the clergy and third estate united in favour of an offer
of 1,050,000 livres, albeit with the understanding that 1.2 million would be
forthcoming in the event of a royal refusal. As promised, the governor sent
word to the king, but when his courier returned from court the news was
sombre. His Majesty was prepared to accept their offer on condition that
the Estates assume liability for the military étapes.36 For a frontier province
such as Burgundy this was a nasty threat, and the assembly quickly made
clear its intention to pay the 1.2 million livres in full.37 The Estates had
finally yielded, but they were far from happy. The remonstrances delivered
during the subsequent voyage of honour were particularly angry in tone,
32 Ibid ., fol. 22. 33 Ibid., fol. 23. 34 Ibid., fol. 29.

35 Ibid ., fol. 32. 36 Ibid., fols. 46. 37 Ibid., fols. 46–7.
stressing the desperate plight of the province, and protesting against both
the cost of the don gratuit and the subsistance et exemption.38 Significantly,
Louis XIV proved receptive to their pleas, and the don gratuit was reduced
by 50,000 livres.
The assembly of 1668 provided a classic example of the traditional rela-
tionship between the monarchy and the provincial estates. Despite being
engaged in a major European war, the crown had been obliged to partici-
pate in nearly two weeks of public bargaining, and to employ all manner of
threats and entreaties in order to secure the desired don gratuit. Within the
Estates, the representatives of the third estate had proved to be the most
obdurate, but the opposition of the privileged orders should not be dis-
counted. Had they been the pliant creatures of the governor, or cowed by
the ‘absolutism’ of their king, then a simple vote of two to one would have
sufficed to extinguish the resistance of the third estate. That did not occur,
and both the clergy and the nobility had participated wholeheartedly in a
bargaining process that seemed to have become a permanent feature of the
Estates.
The Estates of 1671 certainly began as if they were to follow a preordained
pattern, with four days packed full of the usual ingredients of pleas of
poverty from the third estate, gradually increasing offers – with or without
conditions – deputations and polite refusals from the governor.39 Eventually
the Estates fell back on the model of 1668, sending deputies to ask the
governor what was expected of them. In the course of a long meeting, he
explained that their current offer was insufficient, but held out a carrot
by announcing that ‘His Majesty’s intention was to relieve the province by
paying its debts and that for this purpose he had designated the 2 crues of 40
sols’.40 All that was needed was satisfaction on the issue of the don gratuit.
Yet even this seemingly generous gesture did not sway the deputies. The
third estate sullenly refused to offer more than 800,000 livres, and the two
privileged orders would not meet the governor’s request for one million
livres, proposing 950,000 instead.41
The return of peace after the brief War of Devolution may account, in
part, for the obstinacy of the Estates, but the example of 1668, when similar
resistance had been countered by the threat to transfer responsibility for
the military étapes, was hardly propitious. Condé nevertheless agreed to

40 Ibid., fol. 57. The crues were an additional charge levied on salt sold in the province, which the
crown had been in the habit of alienating to the Estates to assist the payment of their charges. Their
importance to the fiscal system is discussed below.
41 ADCO C 3039, fol. 58.
write on behalf of the province, and further assistance was forthcoming
from the intendant, Claude Bouchu. He wrote to Colbert independently,
informing him that Burgundy was in desperate need of aid, adding that ‘the
shortage of money is so great that it is scarcely ever seen’.42 These appeals
coincided with a change of mood at court. When the governor’s courier
returned with the royal response not only had the king deigned to accept
the 950,000 livres offered by the Estates, but he had even decided to reduce
that sum by 150,000 livres. According to Bouchu, the Estates heard this
news:
with such expressions of delight . . . that it would be difficult to describe it to you,
and it was not necessary to be eloquent to persuade them that they could never do
anything more beneficial to themselves than to submit to the orders of the king,
and that His Majesty, in his goodness, takes greater care of their fortunes than they
do themselves.43
As the intendant was writing to Colbert, he was presumably a little over
effusive in his description of events, and it had not escaped the attention
of the Burgundians that similar reductions had recently been accorded to
the provincial estates of Artois, Brittany and Languedoc. Yet even if this is
taken into account they still had much to celebrate. The original offer of
950,000 livres had been lower than those paid over the previous decade,
and to see that sum reduced to just 800,000 livres was as welcome as it was
dramatic.
The assembly marked a watershed in the relationship between the crown
and the Estates, and at the next meeting, held in 1674, traditional practice
was abandoned. Rather than engage in the usual round of bargaining, the
Estates were careful to establish what the king expected of them before
voting ‘unanimously’ to offer an unconditional one million livres in don
gratuit.44 When the official deputation informed the governor, Henri-Jules
duc d’Enghien, of their decision, he accepted their offer and then, like a
conjuror pulling a rabbit from his hat, announced that His Majesty would
be content with 900,000 livres.45 Henri-Jules also informed the startled
deputies that they would receive various other financial concessions, no-
tably a discharge of debts accruing from Colbert’s manufacturing and canal
building schemes. Finally he added that the king would look favourably
on any request for a continuation of the right to raise the crues to help
meet the cost of the don gratuit. Such generosity was even more remarkable
42 Quoted in Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, p. 114, Bouchu to Colbert, May 1671.
43 Ibid ., pp. 114–15, Bouchu to Colbert, 29 May 1671.
44 ADCO C 2998, fol. 1. They also offered an extra 53,000 livres for the octroi ordinaire. The outbreak
of the Dutch War in 1672 was almost certainly a major influence on their actions.
45 Ibid . The news was rendered even more popular by the fact that this included the octroi ordinaire.
given that France had been at war with the Dutch since 1672. The official
registers of the Estates claimed that after ‘such a surprising response from
His Majesty’, the Estates were ‘beside themselves with joy’. It is easy to
understand why, and here was firm proof that prompt obedience would
bring its reward.
From 1674 until the revolution, the voting of the don gratuit was trans-
formed into a carefully stage-managed ritual of ‘spontaneous’ and ‘joyful’
obedience to the king, which Thomas witheringly described as an act of
‘blind deference’.46 It gradually became a convention that the province
offered one million livres, and after praising their zeal the governor sub-
sequently informed them that His Majesty would be satisfied with just
900,000 livres. The granting of the right to levy the crues for a further
three years was also an established part of the bargain. Clearly the change
between the Estates of 1668 and those of 1674 had been both sudden and
dramatic, but what was responsible for this remarkable transformation?
There had been no sign of dispiritedness, nor a collapse in the confidence
of the Estates in either 1668 or 1671, and Major’s argument that the ‘will
of the Estates had been broken by 1674’ is unconvincing.47 Nor had Louis
XIV resorted to a law comparable to that of 1673, which had forced the
parlements to register new laws before making remonstrances. The po-
tential for opposition was, therefore, undiminished, and although the don
gratuit ceased to be the central focus of subsequent assemblies both the
Estates and their élus proved to be tenacious defenders of provincial priv-
ilege. To find a satisfactory explanation for the ending of the bargaining
process it is necessary to investigate Louis XIV’s attitude towards the provin-
cial estates more closely. In his memoirs written for the instruction of the
dauphin, the king looked back to the early days of his personal rule, noting
that:
it had been the custom not merely to ask them [the provincial estates] for large sums
in order to obtain meagre ones . . . but also to tolerate their putting conditions on
everything, to promise them everything, to circumvent everything they had been
promised soon thereafter under various pretexts, even to issue a great number of
edicts with no other intention than to grant, or rather to sell, their revocation soon
thereafter. I found this method undignified for the sovereign and unsatisfactory
for the subject. I chose an entirely different one that I have always followed since,
which was to ask them for precisely what I intended to obtain, to promise little, to
keep my promises faithfully, hardly ever to accept conditions, but to surpass their
expectations when they appealed to my justice and to my kindness.48

47 Major, Representative government, p. 640, and his Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. 344.
48 Quoted in Major, Representative government, pp. 631–2
Louis XIV put considerable time and effort into preparing his memoirs,
and his analysis of how to manage the provincial estates is revealing.
Despite his claims to the contrary, the king had engaged in the same
bargaining process as his predecessors throughout the first decade of his
personal rule, and the habit of producing unpleasant edicts with the aim
of persuading the provincial estates to pay for their suppression would be
exploited ruthlessly after 1672. However, the king was undoubtedly sincere
when he expressed a desire to replace what he considered to be unseemly
public bartering with a more orderly system of clear royal demands, obe-
dience and rewards. Indeed, throughout the 1660s, there had been signs
that Louis XIV was seeking to redefine his relationship with the provincial
estates, but it was probably not until 1671 that the plan of conduct described
in the memoirs reached fruition.49 In Burgundy, it was the meeting of 1674
that had finally broken the mould, and the correspondence of Henri-Jules
confirms that he was following instructions very close to those in the royal
memoirs. In a letter to Colbert, he revealed that ‘I contented myself with
revealing in private the true nature of my orders to some of the most im-
portant [deputies, informing them that], . . . it was not in their interest to
bargain with His Majesty’.50 Instead they were expected to display com-
plete confidence in their royal master, whose ‘favours this obedience would
unfailingly attract’. The governor was obliged to work hard in the forty-
eight hours preceding the opening of the Estates, but his mission was even-
tually crowned with success. The policy was not confined to Burgundy, and
the other pays d’états, with the notable exception of the rebellious Bretons,
were simultaneously learning that obedience would bring rewards.
There is, therefore, some truth in the argument that Louis XIV con-
quered the Estates by kindness and after the opening of the Estates of 1679
the intendant could crow that ‘the day passed in rejoicing and expressions
of gratitude for the king’s favours’.51 Certainly the Estates quickly warmed
to their new role, and it has to be said that they had done well out of the
deal. Before 1674, the don gratuit had regularly been in excess of one mil-
lion livres, despite all of the haggling that preceded it. Thereafter it rarely
exceeded that sum, and the king always reduced the final amount by at
least 100,000 livres, and offered the rights on the crues at the same time.
49 Condé’s speech to the Estates in 1662 in which he informed them that ‘Je croyois qu’ils ne pouvoient
rien faire de mieux pour leurs intérêts que d’obéys aveuglement au roy’, might be interpreted as
an early sign that the strategy employed in 1671 and 1674 had already been considered. Major,
Representative government, pp. 646–7, suggests that the king’s experience at the Estates of Brittany
in 1661 inspired him in this regard.
50 Depping, Correspondance, I, pp. 448–9, Henri-Jules to Colbert, 12 April 1674.
51 Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, p. 115.
As the Estates admitted in their remonstrances presented to Louis XIV in
1689, they had voted the don gratuit ‘knowing full well that their obedience
would produce more favours from Your Majesty and [bring] more aid in
the burden that they carry than all the remonstrances they might make’.52
The impact of these concessions on the don gratuit should not, however,
be exaggerated, and once war broke out in 1672 provincial expenditure and
taxation rose sharply.53 Indeed, even during the years immediately after
the assembly of 1674, the deputies displayed a truculence that was at odds
with the grateful congregation portrayed in the official accounts. In their
remonstrances, drafted after the assembly of 1677, the king was confronted
with a long litany of grievances about the high cost of taxation and the other
fiscal burdens resulting from the Dutch War (1672–9).54 Nor did the return
of peace bring an end to recriminations. When the governor arrived in Dijon
for the Estates of 1685, he was approached by the deputies of the third estate
who had prepared a ‘Memorandum to present to His Serene Highness and
to beg him to represent to the king how much the province’s burden has
increased’.55 Although they no longer protested publicly, the members of the
third estate had not abandoned their traditional defence of the province’s
taillables, it was the form of the protest that had changed. There were other
results of Louis XIV’s policy that were perhaps not quite what the monarch
had intended. The transformation of the voting of the don gratuit into a
piece of political theatre effectively blocked off the tax as a means of raising
additional revenue, and new financial resources had to be found elsewhere.
Finally, if the king’s orderly mind abhorred public opposition to his wishes,
he was generally willing to tolerate protests addressed to him personally,
through the medium of unpublished remonstrances, or the private petitions
of the governor or aristocratic élus. As a result the years after 1674 would
lack some of the drama and excitement of the struggles against the don
gratuit, but when faced with the fiscal onslaught of Louis XIV’s later years
the Estates demonstrated that they were far from broken.
t h e p rov i n c i a l bu d g e t
As Louis XIV’s armies ran amok in the Palatinate during the spring of
1689, bringing desolation to their victims and shame on their sovereign,
they began a period of warfare that would continue almost uninterrupted
until 1714.56 The fiscal screw would be tightened more firmly than ever
52 ADCO C 3329, fol. 100. 53 As is explained in greater detail below.
56 Lynn, The wars of Louis XIV , pp. 193–9.
before, and the king’s much vaunted ability to manage the Estates was
put to the sternest of tests. To understand the costs of those wars, it is
helpful to look at the accounts prepared by the provincial administration
and especially those of the alcades. At the end of every triennalité, it was
common practice for one of the secrétaires des états to prepare a register
entitled ‘State of the administration’, which outlined details of the taxes,
loans and other fiscal operations of the élus. These were scrutinised by the
alcades, who also had access to the papers of the élus, the tax rolls compiled
by the chamber and the registers of the treasurer general.57
The reports produced by the alcades from this mass of documentation
are of mixed quality. Overall the figures for the spending of the Estates
are the most reliable,58 but the estimates of income need treating with
particular caution. As the alcades drafted their remarques at the end of the
third year of any given triennalité, they could never be sure that tax or
other receipts would match the expected returns. After 1694, it became
an accepted convention that they would invite their successors to ‘watch
out’ relative to the incomplete accounts of the third year, an instruction
that was not always heeded.59 A further problem resulted from their habit
of basing estimates of revenues on the sums levied in the tax rolls, which
inevitably represented what ought to be collected, not what had actually
been paid to the treasurer general. Finally, it is important to remember that
the massive loans floated during nearly every triennalité were included as
part of the province’s revenues, not its liabilities. Despite these drawbacks,
the accounts do provide a valuable insight into the fiscal pressure exerted
on the province.
Figure 6.1 contains a representative sample of the triennial accounts for
the period 1645 to 1716 and the dramatic escalation of both the income
and the expenditure of the Estates is immediately apparent.60 During the
troubled final years of the reign of Louis XIII, when the Thirty Years War
was at its height, the triennial ‘budget’ was hovering around the figure of
four million livres. From then until 1670 the situation remained relatively
stable with spending reaching a peak of 4,858,120 livres just prior to the
Fronde (1645–7). The Dutch War brought a sharp increase, with expen-
diture close to six million livres in the final triennalité of the conflict. Yet,
as we have suggested, it was the War of the League of Augsburg which
57 The procedure was explained in ADCO C 3303, fol. 158.

58 Bouchard, ‘Comptes borgnes’, 14, has gone further, arguing that the ‘états au vrai’ of the treasurer
general are precise for expenditure, but that the ‘recettes’ were chaotic.
59 ADCO C 3041, fol. 248.
60 These figures were taken from the surviving remarques of the alcades, ADCO C 3039–42, 3049, 3303.
16,000,000
14,000,000
12,000,000
10,000,000
8,000,000
6,000,000
4,000,000
2,000,000
0
1645-7 1650-2 1662-4 1665-7 1668-70 1677-9 1688-911691-3 1694-6 1696-8 1700-2 1703-5 1706-8 1714-16
Income Expenditure
Figure 6.1 Triennial accounts of the Estates of Burgundy, 1645–1716
marked the real watershed. The first triennalité of the war saw spending
reach 7.3 million livres, and from then until the Peace of Ryswick it never
fell below nine million livres.61 The brief respite before the outbreak of
the War of the Spanish Succession was not enough to alter the picture sig-
nificantly, and rose further reaching 12.96 million livres between 1709 and
1712. When peace was restored, it brought no immediate relief and during
the triennalité of 1714–16 expenditure topped fifteen million livres. It was
altogether fitting that the year of the king’s death saw the highest level of
spending of his entire reign with some 7,049,751 livres accounted for by the
alcades.62 The seventeenth century was a period of economic stagnation,
and, even allowing for the sharp depreciation in the value of the livre due
to the monarchy’s habit of revaluing the currency, the increase in the fiscal
burden was still impressive.
p rov i n c i a l e x pe n d i t u re
Thanks to the remarques of the alcades and the other fiscal data generated
by the provincial administration it is possible to be relatively precise about
the causes of the Estates’ increased expenditure. Despite the enormous
61 ADCO C 3041, fols. 110–11, 162, 172. 62 ADCO C 3049, fols. 346–50.
cost of warfare after 1688, the crown made no attempt to augment the
five impositions that together formed the taille. As we have seen, the don
gratuit never exceeded 900,000 livres, and the taillon and garnisons were
fixed annual sums of 71,550 livres and 86,000 livres respectively, and they
remained unchanged throughout the reign. The subsistance et exemption,
on the other hand, fluctuated considerably before 1685, with the exemption
rising from 112,000 livres in 1662 to 200,000 livres by 1680. The cost of
the subsistance also rose to 345,000 livres by 1679 before falling to 300,000
livres in 1685.63 There was no further change in the amounts of these charges
until the revolution. With the proceeds from the taille stable, the crown was
forced to look for funds elsewhere, and Louis XIV’s boasts about the rules
of honesty and integrity that guided his conduct towards the provincial
estates soon began to ring hollow.
On 31 May 1689, the governor, Henri-Jules, summoned the bishop of
Chalon-sur-Saône and a large deputation of élus and permanent officials
to Paris for negotiations.64 Once they had arrived, he informed them that
the king had requested a secours extraordinaire of 800,000 livres towards
the war effort. As the Estates had separated only a few months earlier,
having voted a don gratuit of 900,000 livres for the whole triennalité, this
represented a substantial sum, as the deputies lost no time in reminding
him.65 Predictably they stressed the difficulties of raising additional revenue,
highlighting the misery of the province and its inhabitants. However, their
trump card was their claim that ‘the Estates had given them no authority
to grant sums beyond those of the don gratuit and that the practice on like
occasions was to assemble the Estates, or at least their principal members’.
It was a defining moment. Had the crown heeded their advice and
reassembled the Estates it might have created the precedent for more deter-
mined resistance to its policies in the future. Instead, the ministry decided
to avoid the political risks of an extraordinary assembly by treating directly
with the élus. The governor had already prepared the ground for such an
arrangement before the arrival of the Burgundian deputation. He had in-
formed the contrôleur général, Claude Le Peletier, that he would need to
grant the Estates some form of revenue to cover the borrowing needed to pay
the secours extraordinaire. Initially Henri-Jules and the élus were thinking in
terms of an extension of the right to levy the crues. When they petitioned
Le Peletier, however, he announced that the king would be willing to grant
the Estates the right to half of the octrois levied on goods transported on

the river Saône.66 Over the previous twenty years, these revenues had been
used by Colbert to extinguish the debts of the towns and the villages of
the province,67 and by passing them to the Estates the monarchy made it
possible for the élus to borrow the 800,000 livres.
To forestall any opposition or delay, the contrôleur général demanded an
immediate response, and the deputies took the final decision in concert
with the governor. They accepted the offer, justifying their action on the
basis that:
His Majesty could establish the said octrois in their entirety and award them to
individuals who would impose them rigorously, that, if on the contrary, they were
raised by the province it would be in a gentler manner, more suitable to the
public good, and it would be easier to obtain their suppression if this was judged
appropriate in the future.
Any hopes of suppressing the octrois would prove illusory, and they remained
a fundamental feature of the fiscal policy of the Estates until the revolution.
By alienating the octrois, the king had supplied the income against which the
Estates could borrow. It was a technique that would be repeated regularly
thereafter. Louis XIV demanded a further secours of 450,000 livres from the
Estates in 1691, and identical sums were requested every three years until
the end of the war.68 The secours was not, therefore, as onerous for the
province as it might at first appear, as it was only the interest that was a
direct burden to the taillables.
A more disturbing development was the use of another royal expedient
designed to tap the wealth of the Burgundians, the military étapes. When
confronted by the particularly obstinate Estates of 1668, Louis XIV had
threatened to make the province pay for the costs of the étapes if his demand
for a substantial don gratuit was not met. Thereafter the matter was dropped,
but any celebrations were premature. Once the Dutch War was in full swing,
Colbert returned to the idea and this time he could not be deflected.69 After
1675, he stopped advancing the funds to cover the cost of the étapes, leaving
the Estates to foot the bill. As figure 6.2 demonstrates, the seemingly
interminable stream of troops marching into Franche-Comté, the Empire
and the Italian states meant that the effects were dramatic.70 In 1675, some
66 Ibid. 67 Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, pp. 122–71, and Root, Peasants and king, pp. 36–44, 49.
68 ADCO C 3030, fols. 232–3, and C 3000, fol. 88.
69 A letter from Colbert to Bouchu of 1 January 1668 cited by Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, pp. 109–11,
makes it clear that the minister had been planning to do this for some time.
70 AN H1 99, fols. 120–1, ‘État des sommes dont la province de Bourgogne a fait les fonds annuellement
pour le remboursement des étapes . . . depuis l’année 1676’.
700,000
600,000
500,000
400,000
300,000
200,000
100,000
0
1675
1677
1679
1681
1683
1685
1687
1689
1691
1693
1695
1697
1699
1701
1703
1705
1707
1709
1711
1713
1715
Figure 6.2 Annual cost of the military étapes, 1675–1715
286,476 livres were needed to meet the cost,71 and similar amounts were
consumed every year until the end of the war. It is, however, unlikely that
anything could have prepared the Estates for the shock of the War of the
League of Augsburg. In the brief period from 1690 to 1692, the étapes con-
sumed no less than 1,633,865 livres, with a massive 675,388 livres required
in 1692 alone.72 In terms of cost, that proved to be the most expensive
year of the reign, but between 1676 and 1718 the province spent on aver-
age 284,250 livres per annum and totals of more than 400,000 livres were
common.
To put these figures in context, it is worth remembering that the province
paid 300,000 livres annually for the don gratuit. By transferring responsibil-
ity for the étapes, Colbert had found a neat way of milking the resources of
the province, without having to employ the politically more controversial
route of direct taxation. It is true that, from the perspective of the Estates,
this form of alternative taxation had the advantage of keeping the funds
raised in Burgundy, but they were not easily convinced of the virtues of
the new arrangement. Complaints were voiced in the Estates of 1677 and,
as a result, the very first article in their subsequent remonstrances was a
71 ADCO C 2982, fols. 59–60, and C 3675.

72 AN H1 99, fols. 120–1, ‘États des sommes’, and ADCO C 3676.
demand for full payment of the étapes.73 The conclusion of the Dutch War
in 1679 offered the Estates an ideal opportunity to renew their appeals, but
they were again unsuccessful. Undaunted, the Estates tried again in 1686,
informing the monarch with great precision that since 1674, they had paid
2,397,030 livres 17 sols, ‘more than 250,000 livres annually’, which would
soon reduce the province to penury if he did not grant some assistance.74
Their appeals fell on deaf ears and the étapes were gradually accepted as part
of the burden supported by the province, appearing as a perennial article of
the governor’s instructions until 1789.75 The crown also resorted to other
expedients to draw funds from the province, occasionally demanding that
the élus supply grain to the royal armies, or quarter cavalry regiments on
the pastures of the Saône at the province’s expense.76 These were minor
irritations when compared to the cost of the military étapes, but that did not
prevent the élus from protesting about the infringement of their privileges.
In his memoirs, the king had commented unfavourably upon the expe-
dient of issuing edicts with the deliberate aim of persuading the provincial
estates to pay for their suppression. After 1672, he could no longer allow
himself the luxury of such scruples, and successive finance ministers settled
into a pattern of creating unwanted offices such as commissioners of wines,
spirits, cider and other liquors, knowing full well that the Estates would
seek to protect Burgundy’s precious wine trade.77 Once an edict creating
such offices had been issued, or simply proposed, the élus were quick to
contact the contrôleur général with the offer of a cash advance (rachat) for
their withdrawal. The government was totally ruthless in its exploitation of
this expedient, and the same offices were re-established on several occasions,
forcing the Estates to pay repeatedly for their suppression. For the king,
the system was a lucrative source of funds and 300,000 livres were raised in
1693, 200,000 livres in 1696, 922,000 livres in 1700, 491,000 livres in 1703,
620,000 livres in 1706, 804,000 livres in 1708 and, finally, one million livres
in 1710.78 These examples are by no means exhaustive, but they do reveal
both the regularity and the value of the rachat system for Louis XIV.
Given the king’s all too evident need for money, and the more authoritar-
ian nature of his rule after 1688, opportunities for outright opposition were
limited, but the Estates were not powerless. In the early months of 1706,
the contrôleur général, Michel Chamillart, unveiled plans to create a series
of offices, including the ubiquitous commissioners of wines, to the tune
75 The articles of 1691 are contained in AN G7 157, fol. 170, ‘Projet d’instruction’.
76 See chapter 7. 77 ADCO C 2982, fols. 261, 331–2.
78 For details of the ‘buy outs’ contracted between 1688 and 1715, see ADCO C 3495–500.
of over one million livres.79 The governor summoned the procureur syndic,
Guenichot, to Versailles, and together with his loyal aide, the secrétaire des
états, Rigoley, they set about negotiating with the minister. With his typical
concern for the province’s interest, Henri-Jules informed Chamillart that
his plans would be ‘ruinous’ for Burgundy. Nor was he simply making a
token protest. According to Guenichot:
His Serene Highness then promised to ask M. de Chamillart to release to the
province the sums that the king is accustomed to hand over to the traitants and
to take note that the majority of these traités have already been bought out on
previous occasions.
These efforts bore fruit, and the eventual cost of the rachat was 620,000
livres, considerably less than Chamillart had originally envisaged. Henri-
Jules and his advisers were also careful to ensure that the contrôleur général
promised the Estates a further extension of their right to farm the octrois
on the river Saône.80 By doing so, the minister supplied the élus with the
revenue needed to borrow, a technique that was employed for all of the
rachats contracted during the period.
The willingness of the king to assist in the payment of the extra sums he
demanded from the Estates oiled the wheels of the system. The role of the
governor was decisive in mediating between the province and the crown, a
service for which he was handsomely rewarded by both.81 Finally, although
conducted in private, it is clear that the élus and their representatives were
still able to bargain effectively on behalf of the Estates. Thus in November
1707 the élus, who were in Paris during their voyage of honour, found
themselves confronted by a demand from Chamillart that they ‘buy out’
offices that the minister claimed were worth a total of 1,468,400 livres.82 As
before, Henri-Jules coordinated the provincial response, ordering the élus
to prepare memoranda about each of the edicts in turn, together with an
assessment of ‘those which must be bought out and those that one might
reject’.83 He was also anxious to be informed of how the province expected
to pay. The élus did as they were told, presenting the governor with the
necessary details prior to the final negotiations with the minister. The result
79 ADCO C 3151, fols. 69–70, procureur syndic, Guenichot, to the élus, (received 21 February 1706).
His letter contains a report of the events discussed below.
80 ADCO C 3049, fols. 227–8.
81 The work of Béguin, Les princes de Condé, pp. 246–53, 323–8, is the essential guide, but Roche,
‘Fortune des princes de Condé’, 217–43, should also be consulted.
82 ADCO C 3310, fols. 10–11. The offices were an eclectic mix, including inspectors of boucheries and
of batiments and the offices of ‘maires alternatifs’.
83 Ibid , fol. 13.
was a ‘buy out’ totalling 950,000 livres and an extension of the rights to
both the octrois and the crues.
By the close of the War of the Spanish Succession, the ‘buy out’ system
had been pushed to its limits with approximately 2,000,000 livres raised
from this source between 1708 and 1712 alone.84 Perhaps not surprisingly
some ominous warning signs began to appear. In September 1710, the
furious élus wrote to the duc de Bourbon protesting that an edict doubling
the municipal octrois that they had supposedly bought out was still being
enforced.85 They claimed that ‘this was, monseigneur, the principal reason
why we agreed to pay such a significant sum’, and they implored the duc
to intervene on their behalf. A further indication of the seriousness of the
affair was provided by the decision of the Parlement of Dijon to draft
remonstrances on the subject.86 Further criticisms surfaced at the Estates
of 1712 about another example of government bad faith, this time an edict
creating various officers of weights and measures who were still in existence
despite the payment of substantial sums.87 All three orders voiced protests,
and they also refused to contemplate any additional ‘buy outs’, ordering
the élus to pursue the matter further. While the effect on the increasingly
autocratic Louis XIV was likely to be limited, the Estates were still capable
of protest and the sight of the Parlement of Dijon threatening to make
common cause was a potentially significant development.88
Yet from the perspective of the crown, these murmurs of dissent were a
small price to pay for a lucrative source of revenue that had raised several
millions in the critical years between 1688 and 1715. Assessing the motives
of the Estates in the ‘buy out’ system is more complicated. As we have
seen, they did all in their power to reduce the sums paid, but who were
the winners and losers from the deals they contracted? This question is of
particular relevance because of the strong emphasis within recent scholar-
ship on the role of the provincial estates in advancing the ‘class’ interests
of the privileged elites.89 There is no doubt that in Burgundy, the Estates
regularly ‘bought out’ edicts and offices harmful to their authority, or to
the wallets of their members. As early as May 1660, the first president of the
Parlement of Dijon, Brulart, had denounced the self-interested conduct of
84 We should also note that a further 2.6 million livres was paid for a partial ‘buy out’ of the capitation
in 1710, a transaction that is analysed below.
85 ADCO C 3155, fols. 504–6, the élus to the duc de Bourbon, 27 September 1710.
86 Ibid, fol. 504. 87 ADCO C 3030, fols. 603–4.
88 The parlementaires also attacked the increase in direct taxation and the late payment of their gages,
matters that directly affected their own material interests, AN U 1062, remonstrances of 24 May
1707, 9 June 1711, 5 June 1714 and 19 August 1715.
89 The works of Beik, Absolutism and society, and Collins, Classes, estates and order, are good examples.
the élus.90 He informed Fouquet that their opposition to the ‘commission-
ers of the francs-fiefs’ arose from ‘the damage to the personal interests of
several amongst them that this investigation might cause’. The élus were
also keen to protect their administrative competence and jurisdiction by
paying for the suppression of edicts creating minor offices, whose privileges,
or rights, threatened to interfere in the fiscal system.91
As we shall see, once a ‘buy out’ had been signed, the Estates were
forced to borrow, presenting their members with a lucrative opportunity
for investment. The losers were the taillables who were obliged to support
the resulting interest payments.92 Here, then, is another example of the
mutually rewarding cooperation between Louis XIV and provincial elites
based upon the creditworthiness of the Estates and the tax payments of the
peasantry. Yet while not denying the inequalities of the fiscal system, it is
important to recognise that the Estates had very little room for manoeuvre.
Louis XIV did not tolerate public opposition, and a refusal to treat with his
finance ministers would certainly have had grave consequences. Indeed, if
they had allowed the creation of the many offices proposed by the crown,
the wine and other trades would have been damaged and the already large
number of privileged would have been swollen further. Neither of these
outcomes would have brought much joy to the hard-pressed taillables in
the Burgundian countryside. Ultimately it seems fair to assume that the
crown knew the Estates well enough to apply pressure where it threatened
to hurt most, and by collaborating time and time again in the various ‘buy
outs’ the Estates made the best of a bad job.
Much of the increase in the financial burden after 1688 was the result of
fiscal expedients, or costs being deflected on to the Estates. These rather
crude traditional methods of extorting revenue were accompanied by some
more innovative measures. After the harrowing famine of 1693–4, Louis
XIV was forced to introduce the capitation, or poll tax, in January 1695, a
measure revolutionary in the sense that all of his subjects, from the princes
of the blood to humble peasants, were expected to pay. When examined
from a long-term perspective, the king had crossed a fiscal Rubicon, po-
tentially opening the way to a more equitable distribution of taxation.93
In the short-term, however, the tax arose from the crown’s desperate need
to find new sources of revenue. Protests from the church, accompanied
by the promise of a substantial don gratuit, were enough to preserve the
clergy’s cherished immunity from direct taxation, and the contrôleur général,
90 La Cuisine, Brulart, i, pp. 166–7, Brulart to Fouquet, 26 May 1660.
91 A conclusion also reached by Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 206–7.
92 The procedure is explained below. 93 Kwass, Politics and privilege, pp. 23–61.
Louis Phélypeaux de Pontchartrain, clearly expected the provincial estates
to follow suit.
During the winter of 1695–6, he proposed that the élus contract an abon-
nement to replace the capitation of the taillables.94 This was a tempting
offer. The administration of the capitation had been confided to the inten-
dant, a particularly worrying development for the Estates. Pontchartrain
was expecting to receive 400,000–500,000 livres for the abonnement, in
return for which the élus would receive the right to levy the tax themselves.
Though no doubt tempted by the prospect of bolstering their own author-
ity, the élus informed the minister that they could not accept responsibility
for ‘the levy of these monies at a rate that it is impossible to implement’.95
Instead they made a bid of 300,000 livres, much to the annoyance of the
minister who replied ‘I believe that I would do the Estates a very real dis-
service if I informed His Majesty of the offer you have made’.96 Behind the
scenes, the governor ordered the secrétaire des états, Rigoley, to investigate
the responses of the provincial estates of Brittany and Languedoc, and he
was especially concerned that any contract of abonnement should transfer
full administrative responsibility to the élus.97 Precise details of what fol-
lowed have proved elusive, but no abonnement was signed, suggesting that
the élus refused to meet the contrôleur général’s demands.
The tax continued to be levied by the intendant until its suppression at
the end of the war in 1697. When the capitation was revived in 1701, the
Estates did finally agree to an abonnement at the annual rate of one million
livres, of which 180,000 livres was to be paid by the pays adjacent.98 Signif-
icantly the amount actually levied on the taillables was never higher than
362,934 livres and was generally in the region of 300,000 livres, considerably
less than the amount demanded by Pontchartrain in 1696.99 The crown al-
lowed the élus to raise a further 400,000 livres by borrowing against the
future proceeds of the octrois on the river Saône, with the interest payments
being added to the taille.100 It would appear, therefore, that the élus had
negotiated a better deal in 1701 than the one they had rejected in 1696, but
any benefit to the taillables was marginal at best. As we shall see, the real
beneficiaries were the members of the privileged elites.
A series of crushing defeats by the armies of Marlborough and Eugène
de Savoie combined with the effects of the arctic winter of 1709 forced
the contrôleur général, Nicolas Desmarets, to introduce a new direct tax on
94 ADCO C 3141, fols. 46–7, the élus to Pontchartrain, 7 January 1696. 95 Ibid., fol. 47.
96 Ibid., fol. 79, Pontchartrain to the élus, 14 January 1696.
97 BMD MS 2239, fol. 307, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 26 January 1696.
98 ADCO C 5573. 99 ADCO C 5688–702. 100 ADCO C 5573.
income, the dixième, in 1710.101 A reforming breeze was blowing through
the corridors of power in the early eighteenth century, and the new tax
was inspired, in part, by the ideas of Vauban and Boisguilbert. This offered
scant consolation to the Estates, whose failure to contract a satisfactory
abonnement allowed the intendant to draw up the rolls.102 In theory, at
least, he was likely to be less sympathetic to the interests of the privileged,
and this unwanted intrusion into what the élus believed to be their own
administrative domain compounded the misery of a tax that would cost the
province’s taxpayers another 700,000 livres per annum until its suppression
in 1717.103
To make matters worse, Desmarets was soon pressuring the élus to accept
a ‘buy out’ of part of the capitation, while simultaneously demanding
one million livres for the suppression of various unwanted edicts.104 The
governor had opposed the measure, but his death in 1709 was followed
closely by that of his son, creating an opportunity that Desmarets was quick
to seize.105 He requested that the Estates pay 2.4 million livres to reduce
the annual abonnement of the capitation to 600,000 livres in perpetuity.106
In the militarily critical year of 1710, the crown was prepared to go to
almost any lengths to secure desperately needed funds. As with so many
other such arrangements, it facilitated the exchange by extending the rights
to the octrois for another twelve years. There was, however, one crucial
difference about this particular ‘buy out’. Rather than allow the interest
to be added to the taille, Desmarets agreed that 120,000 livres could be
deducted from the 600,000 livres of the abonnement.107 In other words,
the king was now alienating the future revenues of one of his principal taxes
in return for a cash advance. The total bill to the royal treasury would be
some 3.5 million livres because the capital would not be fully reimbursed
until the end of 1748.
Once he had started down this path, Desmarets found it impossible to
resist going further. In October 1714, he informed the élus that the king
‘requested a loan of 2,000,000 livres’.108 There was no pretence that offices
or edicts needed to be bought off, simply that the credit of the Estates be
used to the benefit of the crown. As with the ‘buy out’ of the capitation the
terms were generous. The minister announced that:
101 Bonney ‘Louis XIV’s dixième’. 102 ADCO C 3030, fol. 615.
103 ADCO C 5808, and AN G7 164, fol. 1.
104 ADCO C 3155, fols. 273–4, Desmarets to the élus, 20 August 1710.
105 AN G7 162, fol. 258, Richard (élu du roi) to Desmarets, 5 June 1709. 106 ADCO C 5573.
107 The province borrowed the 2.4 million livres at denier 18 and received the octrois for the period
from 1737 to 1748.
108 ADCO C 3352, fol. 195, Desmarets to the élus, 23 October 1714.
100,000 livres of rente at denier 20 will be alienated to the élus to be drawn on the
sums that the province pays annually to the royal treasury, the treasurer general of
the Estates will retain in his hands, every year until the entire redemption of the
total, the sum of 200,000 livres, a part of which will be used to pay the interest
and the remainder to reimburse the capital.
The arrangement was advantageous to the province, and it was this loan
that helped to push the Estates spending for the triennalité of 1714–16 to
its highest ever level, and it would have risen even further if Desmarets had
succeeded with a plan to replace the capitation and dixième with a joint
abonnement of 1.4 million livres.109
The minister was aware that his latest proposal was likely to encounter
opposition. The Estates of 1712 had refused an abonnement of 800,000 livres
for the dixième, and the assembly of May 1715 proved no more amenable.
When the duc de Bourbon informed the chambers of the king’s demand
that they contract an annual abonnement of 1.4 million livres for the two
taxes their opposition was unanimous.110 Rather than accept, the Estates
voted to send deputies to present their remonstrances to the minister.111
The governor had secret instructions to drop the matter if he encountered
serious resistance, but before he abandoned his efforts he asked the three
presidents to prepare a memorandum outlining what they thought the as-
sembly would accept.112 In their response, the presidents admitted that cur-
rently 1,456,000 livres was paid for the capitation and dixième combined.113
However, they stressed the fact that the province had borrowed a total of
fourteen million livres to assist the crown, and it was exhausted by the
effects of war and natural disaster. They concluded that ‘the Estates will
offer with pleasure an annual sum of 800,000 livres’ for the forthcoming
triennalité. To accomplish the task, they requested that the élus receive ‘the
same power and authority as the intendant has for the dixième’. This was
not quite a return to the pre-1674 system of bargaining with conditions,
but it was very close and it helps to explain why Desmarets abandoned his
scheme.
On 1 September 1715 Louis XIV died, bringing the curtain down on
a reign that had been more costly than glorious. To pay for his mili-
tary adventures, the king had exploited just about every conceivable fiscal
109 AN G7 165, fols. 215–16, the duc de Bourbon to Desmarets, May 1715.
110 Ibid ., see the letters of the duc de Bourbon and the bishop of Autun to Desmarets, May 1715.
111 ADCO C 3001, fol. 281, and C 3042, fol. 278.
112 AN G7 165, fol. 220, the duc de Bourbon to Desmarets, 20 May 1715.
113 Ibid ., fol. 300, ‘Mémoire sur la proposition du traité pour la suppression du 10e et de la capitation de
la Bourgogne, et les pays de Bresse, Bugey et Gex’. Their figures of 600,000 livres for the capitation
and 865,000 livres for the dixième also included the contribution of the pays adjacent.
expedient, and Burgundy had felt the resulting pressure in a variety of ways.
New direct taxes had been accompanied by constant demands for the ‘buy
out’ of unwanted edicts, the payment of secours extraordinaire, loans and
the provision of the military étapes. Yet for all the dramatic increase in the
fiscal burden, there was no public resistance comparable to that of 1658.
There are a number of important and mutually reinforcing factors behind
the relatively quiescent attitude of the Estates. Perhaps most importantly,
the character and governing style of Louis XIV would have loomed large
in the minds of those inclined to oppose his demands. Current histori-
ography stresses the Sun King’s ability to manage the interests and flatter
the egos of provincial elites. We should not forget that he could also be
ruthless. The harsh punishment meted out to the Estates and Parlement
of Brittany after the revolt of 1675 offered a salutary lesson for anyone
dreaming of a return to the days of the Fronde.114 It is also likely that the
temper of the Estates was moderated by the conversion of the previously
elective post of mayor into a venal office in 1692. The subsequent purchase
of those offices by the Estates meant that the deputies of the third estate,
who were traditionally the most vigorous opponents of increased taxation,
were now more closely controlled than ever before. As the fiscal demands
rained down on the province, any mayor brave enough to raise his head
above the parapet risked being quickly brought to heel by either the élus
or the governor. The immense prestige and influence of the Condé was
another factor ensuring compliance, as any opposition to their wishes was
almost as great a sin as challenging the king. Finally, what guaranteed that
the relationship between Louis XIV and the Estates would survive all of the
stresses and strains of a tumultuous reign were the benefits that Burgundian
elites derived from the financial system, something that becomes very clear
when we turn to the question of how the Estates paid for the taxes, ‘buy
outs’ and other fiscal demands of the crown.
w h e re t h e m o n ey we n t
If we can be reasonably precise about the causes of the increased expenditure
of the Estates during the reign of Louis XIV, it is important to remember
that not all the money raised actually left the province. When the alcades
produced their remarques for the Estates of 1691, they took care to con-
sider the problem in detail.115 They divided expenditure into three distinct
114 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, pp. 249–70.
115 ADCO C 3041, fols. 36–42. The remarques themselves are examined in greater depth in Swann,
‘War and finance’, pp. 303–12.
32%
52%
16%
Crown Province and people individuals
Figure 6.3 Expenditure of the Estates of Burgundy, 1689–91
categories: payments to the royal treasury, spending to the ‘advantage of the

people and the embellishment of the province’ and charges ‘to the profit of
individuals’ (see figure 6.3).116 According to their calculations, overall spend-
ing for the triennalité of 1689–91 amounted to 7,455,715 livres of which some
3,867,251 livres, or 51.87 per cent, was consumed by payments to the royal
treasury.117 A variety of smaller sums were also included, notably the 99,144
livres paid in gages to the maréchaussée and the coureurs de poste and 20,928
livres contributed towards the cost of repairing the châteaux of Chalon-sur-
Saône and Auxonne. The alcades were rarely so precise in their remarques,
but it is possible to compare the figures from 1689–91 with those for 1706–8
presented at the Estates of 1709.118 Total spending for 1706–8 was estimated
at 12,504,439 livres, with 6,871,650 livres, or 55 per cent, passing into ‘the
coffers of the king’.119 Although the sums involved had increased, the actual
proportion paid to the crown had only risen slightly, and there is no reason
to believe that the figures of 1691 and 1709 were exceptional.
The second account identified by the alcades of 1691, that described as
spending to the ‘advantage of the people and the embellishment of the
116 ADCO C 3041, fol. 36–42.

117 This figure includes those sums passed to, or collected by, the receveurs des finances, receveur général
du taillon and the trésorier extraordinaire des guerres.
118 ADCO C 3042, fols. 154–5. For once the alcades had the good sense to prepare their remarques using
the final year of the previous triennalité together with the first two years of that for which they were
responsible. By acting in this fashion, they could supply more accurate information than would
normally be the case.
119 ADCO C 3042, fol. 156.
province’120 amounted to 1,181,774 livres, or 15.85 per cent, of expenditure
as a whole, most of which went directly to reimburse the military étapes.
During the triennalité of 1689–91, no less than 892,570 livres (12 per cent)
of total spending was consumed in this fashion, a figure comparable to
the 1,172,511 livres (9 per cent) recorded between 1706 and 1708.121 With
the étapes proving so costly, only modest funds were left over between
1689–91 for other projects such as the repair and upkeep of roads and
public buildings (208,551 livres), the commissioning of an equestrian statue
of Louis XIV (50,000 livres) and the maintenance of the royal stud in the
province (23,000 livres).122
As for the third category of spending, that ‘to the profit of individuals’, it
amounted to an impressive 2,406,690 livres (32.28 per cent of overall spend-
ing) for the triennalité of 1689–91, a pattern repeated between 1706–8 when
4,460,278 livres (36 per cent of overall spending) fell into this category.123
The final destination of these huge sums says much about the Burgundian
fiscal system under Louis XIV. In 1691, nearly half of the money described
as ‘to the profit of individuals’ was required to cover interest payments on
the provincial debt,124 and although precise figures are missing for 1706 to
1708 there is every reason to believe that they would have been substantially
higher. Of the remainder, some 233,045 livres was allocated to the pensions,
gifts and salaries paid by the Estates, 154,673 livres was needed to pay the fees
of the élus, 78,060 livres for those of the treasurer general and the provin-
cial receivers and 122,079 livres was paid to the officers of the Chambre des
Comptes of Dijon. An additional 97,670 livres was needed to meet the costs
incurred in the collection of the crues de sel and the levy of the militia.125
Finally, the alcades acknowledged the existence of approximately 150,000
livres of spending of a miscellaneous nature.
The remarques prepared by the alcades are far from perfect, but whatever
their shortcomings, they do supply a valuable insight into the nature of
provincial expenditure, demonstrating that a high proportion of the money
raised was spent within the province. As in Languedoc, a substantial slice
of provincial revenue passed directly into the pockets of members of the
Estates and local officeholders.126 Moreover, as Louis XIV’s wars drove
spending ever higher there had been ample opportunity for those within
122 ADCO C 3041, fols. 38–9. 123 Ibid., fols. 39–40, and C 3042, fol. 157.
124 As these were payments on loans raised to meet the financial demands of the king, they might
legitimately be added to the first category of payments to the royal treasury. The alcades were clearly
influenced by the fact that the money was paid to individual investors, most of whom belonged to
local elites.
125 ADCO C 3041, fols. 39–40. 126 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 245–78.
1% 3%
24%
61%
11%
Taxation Crues Borrowing Octrois Miscellaneous
Figure 6.4 Revenue of the Estates of Burgundy, 1689–91
the charmed circle of the Estates to take financial advantage by investing

in the expanding provincial debt. For these elites, war, whatever its other
inconveniences, was profitable and to understand why it is necessary to
examine how the Estates raised money.
p rov i n c i a l reve n u e s
As figure 6.1 demonstrates, the seemingly inexorable rise of provincial
expenditure was matched by a simultaneous increase in revenue. In their
remarques of 1691, the alcades identified five main sources of income and
these are represented in figure 6.4.127 By far the most important source of
revenue was direct taxation, and as the élus were responsible for levying
the taille and, after 1701, the capitation there was, in theory, no rea-
son why they could not just increase the burden on ordinary taxpayers.
During the triennalité of 1688–91, the élus levied some 4,387,351 livres in
taille, which represented 61 per cent of total income. To calculate this figure,
the alcades had almost certainly consulted the taille rolls drawn up by the
élus, which match very closely and this raises a very awkward problem.128
The rolls drawn up in the comfort of the chamber of élus were a poor
reflection of what was actually collected in the towns and villages of the
127 ADCO C 3041, fols. 40–1. 128 ADCO C 3041, fol. 41, and C 4879–81.
2,500,000
2,000,000
1,500,000
1,000,000
500,000
0
68
70
72
74
76
78
80
82
84
86
88
90
92
94
96
98
00
02
04
06
08
10
12
14
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
Figure 6.5 Taille levied in Burgundy, 1668–1715
province. The figures provided by the alcades were, therefore, estimates of

what the revenue of the Estates should have been, and for the accounts to
tally it was necessary to await the final receipts from the receivers.
If the taille rolls need to be treated with caution, they nevertheless offer
an insight into the fiscal policies of the élus and how they sought to meet
the costs of Louis XIV’s wars. Figure 6.5 reveals the amount of taille levied
for the period 1677 to 1715.129 Towards the end of the Dutch War, in 1677,
the élus set the taille at 1,610,988 livres, a burden that fell slightly with
an annual average of 1.45 million livres imposed in the relatively peaceful
decade between 1678 and 1688.130 These sums are similar to those levied in
1668 and 1671 (1.4 and 1.44 million livres respectively), and, as we might
expect, the two great wars at the end of the reign did see the burden increase.
After 1689, it never fell below 1.4 million livres, and during the Nine Years
War it averaged 1,708,044 livres. When the Peace of Ryswick brought a
temporary respite, the élus were quick to reduce the taille, which had fallen
to the comparatively modest rate of 1,423,821 livres by 1700. The War of
the Spanish Succession saw the resumption of the upward curve, and more
than two million livres were levied in the ill-fated year of 1709 and the taille
peaked at 2,361,274 livres in 1712.
129 ADCO C 4854–905. 130 ADCO C 4867–78.

Nor was the taille the only threat to the purses of Burgundian taxpayers.
After 1695, they were obliged to pay the capitation, and the weight of the
new tax fell heavily on the taillables. The duchy and comtés were liable for
820,000 livres of the abonnement of one million livres paid by the généralité
of Dijon as a whole. According to the terms of the letters patent of 1701,
400,000 livres was raised in loans using the rights to the octrois on the
river Saône.131 The government also stipulated that the élu of the order and
four gentlemen chosen by the governor would impose 52,500 livres on the
province’s nobility. The officers of the Parlement of Dijon were assessed
at 43,404 livres and an additional 64,202 livres was to be collected from
the other courts and officeholders in the province. The remaining sum of
273,934 livres fell on to the taillables, and thereafter it gradually increased
reaching a peak of 362,934 livres in 1714.132 When combined with the taille
(for which it was effectively a surtax) the increase is even more striking, and
in the peak year of 1712 they sought to raise a combined sum of 2,660,741
livres. Fortunately for the taillables, the sharp depreciation of the livre after
1688 reduced the impact by perhaps as much as one third. Yet even if the
net increase was less dramatic than the data might at first suggest, its effects
should not be dismissed in the light of the more unfavourable economic
climate of the period. Finally, the province’s taxpayers found themselves
pursued on another front after 1710, with the introduction of the dixième
whose combined rolls were estimated at 691,554 livres in 1717.133
It was the taillables who bore the brunt of taxation, and the privileged
had been assessed for a combined sum of just 160,106 livres in the original
abonnement of the capitation 1701. They were quick to complain, and the
Parlement of Dijon was pleading poverty in 1707 in order to explain arrears
of 6,302 livres on its capitation payments.134 Help was soon at hand for the
province’s wealthiest taxpayers. When Desmarets persuaded the Estates to
pay 2.4 million livres in order to ‘buy out’ of part of the abonnement to the
capitation of 1710, the subsequent fiscal reorganisation was totally to their
advantage. The abonnement of the duchy and comtés fell to 420,000 livres,
and the portion allotted to the nobility was reduced from 52,500 livres
to just 31,000 livres in 1714.135 The magistrates of the Parlement of Dijon
had already seen their assessment cut by a sixth since 1703, and the other
provincial officeholders also benefited from the new arrangement. The
taillables were less fortunate. Despite the reduction in the overall cost
131 ADCO C 5573. 132 ADCO C 5701. 133 ADCO C 5808.
134 ADCO C 5573. To be fair to the parlementaires, Hurt, Louis XIV and the parlements, pp. 67–124,
has shown that they were subject to a financial squeeze.
5% 3%
5%
31% 56%
Taxation Borrowing Crues Octrois Miscellaneous
Figure 6.6 Revenue of the Estates of Burgundy, 1706–8
of the abonnement they saw their tax assessment increase! Between 1701
and 1710 approximately 300,000 livres had been levied in capitation on
this group, but by 1715 it had increased to 358,286 livres.136 The conclusion
seems inescapable. The reduction in the abonnement of the capitation had
been of no benefit at all to the taillables.
When confronted by the unprecedented fiscal demands of Louis XIV,
the Estates had continued to draw a substantial proportion of their revenues
from direct taxation, something which contrasts sharply with the situation
in Brittany.137 There the Estates relied heavily upon the indirect taxation
of wine, and it will come as no surprise to learn that the Burgundians
preferred to look for their funds elsewhere. However, direct taxation on its
own was not enough to meet the Estates financial engagements. During the
three years from 1706–8, the élus levied 7,048,499 livres in taille and cap-
itation, but overall expenditure was colossal, reaching 12,504,439 livres.138
As we can see in figure 6.6, taxation was only covering 56 per cent of
expenditure, and it had fallen slightly as a proportion of revenue from
1689–91, when 4,387,351 livres (60 per cent) had been raised from that
source.139
136 ADCO C 5688–702. 137 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, pp. 229–48.
To make up the shortfall, the Estates had other sources of income.
Amongst the most important of these were the crues levied on salt sold
in the province. Although the members of the Parlement of Dijon and
other important privileged groups, notably the major religious houses, were
exempt, the tax base of the crues was far wider than that of the taille.140
Moreover, indirect taxation on a staple commodity guaranteed a steady
income. Throughout the period after 1688, the Estates were granted crues
of forty sols and fifty sols, which produced nine livres per minot sold.141 In
1694, the king created a further crue of ten sols which was given to the
Estates in perpetuity in 1697 in return for a payment of 352,000 livres.142
The crues provided a substantial income during the triennalité of 1689–91,
producing an estimated 833,321 livres, and the comparable figure for 1706–8
was 605,082 livres.143 Predictably returns were declining slightly during the
difficult years of the early eighteenth century, but the crues still produced
in the region of 250,000–300,000 livres annually between 1689 and 1715.
The octrois levied on the river Saône represented a third significant source
of revenue. First granted to the Estates in 1689, these rights had been
increased in 1691 and were subsequently prolonged at various intervals
throughout the remainder of the reign.144 Once in possession of the octrois,
the Estates auctioned the lease to syndicates of tax farmers, receiving a
guaranteed income in the process. The annual lease was worth 175,000 livres
in 1691, rose to 212,000 livres between 1697 and 1703 and then remained
at 205,000 livres until 1716. However, recouping the money was not always
trouble free. The king’s habit of issuing passports providing free passage
for those supplying his armies via the river was a frequent cause of legal
wrangling between the élus and the tax farmers about the question of
compensation.
These were the principal sources of revenue, but the alcades occasion-
ally referred to other sums that had found their way into the coffers of
the Estates. In 1691, for example, they cited a total of 247,134 livres to be
recovered from ‘individuals and free funds’,145 while in their remarques of
1709 the alcades referred to 96,647 livres of ‘free funds’, and a ‘remittance of
His Majesty’.146 These were unpredictable windfalls and, while welcome,
they did not have much bearing on the financial activities of the provincial
140 ADCO C 2982, fol. 15, and Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, pp. 149–50.
141 A minot was the equivalent to seventy-two litres or 100 livres in weight.
142 ADCO C 2982, fol. 388.
143 ADCO C 3041, fol. 41, and C 3042, fols. 155–6. The figure for 1706–8 includes an advance of
100,000 livres from the new tax farmers.
144 ADCO C 3136, deliberation of 23 June 1691.
145 ADCO C 3041, fols. 41–2 146 ADCO C 3042, fols. 155–6.
administration. Instead it was the crues and the octrois that together pro-
vided the key to the Burgundian response to Louis XIV’s fiscal demands.
While the annual income of approximately 500,000 livres generated by
indirect taxation would not make up the shortfall between revenues from
direct taxation and total spending, what it could do was supply the credit
needed to borrow.
According to the alcades of 1691, the Estates had raised 879,000 livres
during the triennalité, and they also referred to an existing capital from
loans of 902,600 livres which, when combined, meant that 1,785,600 livres
(24.22 per cent) of provincial income came from borrowing.147 There was
nothing exceptional about these figures. The alcades of 1694 calculated
that in 1693 borrowing produced 1,341,200 livres, an impressive 32 per cent
of income for that year, while the remarques of 1697 recorded loans of
1,757,460 livres in 1696, representing some 42 per cent of income. In 1709,
the alcades identified a total of 3,863,511 livres (31 per cent) of borrowing in
their estimate of 12,494,670 livres of revenue for the years 1706–8.148 The
validity of treating borrowing as a principal source of revenue could be
disputed, but there is no doubt that the system was effective.
In the period before 1688, the Estates had little trouble keeping a sense
of balance in their financial affairs. The alcades of 1679 noted that the debt
stood at 1,124,550 livres, and they were optimistic about the prospects of
reducing that burden. They noted that the:
two crues of salt of 50 sols produce an estimated 123,750 livres which, after deducting
the interest payments of 56,227 livres, leaves only the sum of 67,522 livres to subtract
from the principal, leaving 1,047,027 livres.149
They continued the exercise for 1681 and 1682, when the current rights
to the crues were due to expire, anticipating a reduction in the debt to
just over 800,000 livres. Any unexpected royal demands for a ‘buy out’ or
other contribution would have quickly invalidated their calculations, but
in 1679, the crues of fifty sols were sufficient in themselves to pay the interest
on the debt, and to reimburse a portion of the outstanding capital. That
allowed the Estates to use the crues of forty sols to pay towards the cost of
the don gratuit, thus reducing the weight of the taille in the process.150 It
was for this reason that the voting of the don gratuit at the assemblies of
the Estates was followed almost immediately by pleas for the governor to
147 ADCO C 3041, fol. 41. The phrase ‘plusieurs principaux que la province devoit auparavant’ is
admittedly odd, but the alcades did treat the sum of 902,600 livres as if it was the proceeds of an
earlier loan.
150 ADCO C 2997, fols. 93–5. This was not an isolated instance, a similar calculation was made in
1668, ADCO C 2997, fols. 93–5.
use his good offices to secure an extension of their rights to the crues. A
convention gradually became established that the king would accord these
rights for three years, although it could occasionally be longer.
Ideally the revenue from the crues should have marched in step with the
don gratuit, with both covering the same triennalité. Such a happy equilib-
rium seemed to be in sight in February 1685, and Henri-Jules was hopeful
that all four would expire in 1688 and that balance would be achieved.151
That was the last occasion when such hopes could be entertained. Despite
the additional resources provided by the octrois, the subsequent fiscal pres-
sure saw the proceeds of both rights pledged for years in advance. Thus
at the Estates of 1688, the crues of forty and fifty sols were extended until
the end of 1692, and by 1700 both had been consumed until the end of
1707. Thereafter, the pace accelerated. By the Estates of 1709, the revenues
had been pledged until the end of 1719, and at the final assembly of the
reign in 1715 all four crues were granted until the end of 1732. In the case of
the octrois, the situation was even more dramatic. They had initially been
granted for five years in 1691, and by 1700 they had been prolonged until
the end of 1707. During the War of the Spanish Succession their money
raising potential was exploited to its limits, and by 1710 the prospective
proceeds from 1748 had been pledged to cover borrowing!
Thus by the end of the Sun King’s reign future revenues had, in effect,
been spent for decades in advance. Every time the crown had demanded a
new ‘buy out’, or some other form of financial contribution, the élus had
raised new loans using either the crues or the octrois as collateral. In the vast
majority of cases, the interest charged on these loans was then added to the
taille. Not surprisingly, the provincial debt had grown almost exponentially.
At the end of the Dutch War in 1679, the alcades had estimated that the
Estates owed 1.12 million livres.152 At the Estates of 1715, the presidents of the
three chambers informed the governor that the debt now exceeded fourteen
million livres.153 With both the crues and the octrois already assigned to repay
creditors until 1732 and 1748 respectively, the enormous cost of Louis XIV’s
wars becomes clear.
Massive borrowing was the key to the finance of the Estates, and their
ability to raise so much money at comparatively low rates of interest in
a period of war and natural disaster requires further explanation.154 Most
of their loans were floated at 5 per cent, and if wartime pressures caused
151 BMD MS 2239, fols. 146–7, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 22 February 1685.

152 ADCO C 3041, fols. 45–9.
153 AN G7 165, fol. 300, ‘Mémoire sur la proposition du traité pour la suppression du 10e et de la
capitation de la Bourgogne, et les pays de Bresse, Bugey et Gex’.
154 Potter, ‘Good offices’, should also be consulted.
this to rise to 6 per cent, the return of peace was enough to allow their
prompt reimbursement in favour of new contracts at the lower rate.155
Confidence was the essential ingredient in the success of the Estates. Despite
the almost continual borrowing, the provincial administration never failed
to make prompt and complete payments of the interest on the rentes of
their creditors. Moreover, every year the élus ordered the reimbursement of
part of the debt using the income from the crues and the octrois. Those who
lent to the Estates could be confident that if they subscribed to a loan the
eventual repayment of their capital was assured and that in the intervening
period they would receive their interest payments. There was no need to
fear that the necessary revenues would be diverted elsewhere, as was so often
the case with the crown.
By raising loans quickly and cheaply, the Estates had provided a valu-
able service for Louis XIV, and as the debt expanded and the fiscal system
became progressively more complex, they proved to be tenacious defend-
ers of their reputation for fiscal integrity. Any attempt by the crown to
meddle with their credit structure provoked strong protests. Thus in 1700,
a royal declaration confiscating half of the profits of the crue of twenty
sols, bought in perpetuity only a few years earlier, forced the élus to make
furious protests to the contrôleur général.156 With some justification they
argued that the loss of these revenues, which had been assigned to the re-
payment of the 352,000 livres borrowed to finance the original purchase,
risked undermining confidence. The battle was lost on this occasion, but it
was very much the exception and the Estates had realised that they needed
to defend their credit at almost any price. When famine threatened after
the terrible winter of 1709, Louis XIV suspended the octrois on the river
Saône in order to allow the free passage of grain and other essentials. A
measure designed to alleviate suffering and keep the king’s armies sup-
plied had threatened to undermine the Estates’ credit at a crucial mo-
ment. The reaction of the Estates and the governor was instructive; they
united to demand the re-establishment of the octrois to restore investor
confidence.157 Louis III de Bourbon, who was in Dijon for the assembly
of 1709, captured the general mood in a letter to Desmarets, arguing that
the octrois ‘assure all [of ] the credit of this province, without which it
will collapse completely and once there is mistrust it will be impossible to
borrow.158
155 ADCO C 3145, fols. 451, 497–8, deliberations of 28 August and 18 November 1700.
156 ADCO C 3144, fol. 58, the élus to Rigoley, 4 January 1700.
157 AN G7 162, fol. 281, Louis III de Bourbon to Desmarets, 19 July 1709, and ibid., fols. 289, 312–13.
158 Ibid ., fol. 289, Louis III de Bourbon to Desmarets, 29 July 1709.
These protests eventually bore fruit, and the octrois were restored and the
crisis passed, leaving only legal squabbles about compensation with the tax
farmers in its wake. It is true that at the very end of Louis XIV’s reign the
system began to show signs of strain. With some 5.8 million livres borrowed
between 1710 and 1715 alone, the élus were increasingly tempted to tolerate
the expedient of raising loans without assigning revenues for their future
reimbursement. At the Estates of 1712, this practice was denounced by
the alcades, and similar concerns were voiced at the meeting of 1715.159 To
resolve the problem, they suggested increasing the taille by 100,000 livres
annually in order to repay ‘unassigned rentes’.160 As with many of their
remarques, the alcades were obliged to repeat their demands before action
was taken, but the mere presence of these criticisms of financial malpractice
was a further source of reassurance for investors. As many of the principal
lenders sat in the chamber of élus, or the Estates, there was every reason
to believe that the long-term solvency of the financial system would be
protected.
t h e p rov i n c i a l i n ve s tor s
For those with funds to spare the Estates represented a sound investment.
During the difficult years after 1688, there were few opportunities to make a
guaranteed, risk free annual return of five or six per cent. Investors literally
flocked to the Estates in the hope of placing their money, forcing the élus
to try and end the practice. In a deliberation of August 1700, they declared
that:
having been informed that several individuals, foreseeing the loans that we are
obliged to raise on behalf of the province, have transported substantial sums to
the Hôtel of sieur Chartraire, treasurer general of the Estates, in the expectation
that their deposit will force [him] to employ these sums in the said loans, have
deliberated that the sieur Chartraire shall neither receive nor take responsibility
for any monies to be employed for loans . . . [before] they have been authorised,
and the deliberation[s] of the sums, and the individuals from whom they are to be
taken, have been signed by the said élus.161
The Estates were thus in the remarkable position of being able to turn away
eager investors, and those lucky enough to profit from the system were the
élus themselves, the permanent officers and members of the Estates and local
elites. In 1700, the élus were busily contracting loans for a series of ‘buy outs’
and were simultaneously replacing wartime loans with new borrowing at a
159 ADCO C 3042, fols. 231, 304. 160 Ibid., fol. 304. 161 ADCO C 3145, fol. 460.
lower rate of interest. As they did so, they received a letter from the secrétaire
des états, Rigoley, who was anxious to remind them of certain obligations.162
He warned them to watch out for the interests of the marquise de Croissy,
who the governor himself had promised to assist.163 Rigoley added that ‘M.
de Xaintrailles [a former élu and first gentlemen of the governor] has asked
me if you would be so kind as to leave his reimbursement to another time,
I will not speak of my own affairs, nor those of my relatives, because I am
sure that you will have the goodness to do everything you can’.
Preferential treatment for those intimately connected with the Estates,
or for the friends and favourites of the governor was a pronounced feature
of the system. In addition to helping the marquise de Croissy, the governor
was simultaneously pressing the bishop of Autun to accept investments of
60,000 livres from both the comte d’Estrées and Mlle de Noailles.164 The
élus could not refuse the governor’s request, but the results were not always
as rewarding as his cronies had expected. In a letter to his trusted lieutenant,
Rigoley, Henri-Jules grumbled that his efforts to help place the funds of the
comtesse de Grammont had not been well received by the élus.165 At first
they had protested, and ‘when they resolved to accept it they invested it as
badly as they possibly could’. The élus were unhappy that the governor had
tried to arrange preferential terms for the comtesse, but their reluctance to
accept her money was part of a more general prejudice against courtiers.166
Whenever possible, loans were contracted locally and from amongst a
narrow circle of lenders, as we can see if we examine the system in depth.167
The registers of the élus record details of 829,697 livres that were borrowed in
twelve separate instalments during 1700. Of that sum, 248,675 (30 per cent)
was lent by the élus, permanent officers and other employees of the Estates,
while 371,000 livres (45 per cent) was provided by members of either the
Parlement or the Chambre des Comptes of Dijon. In these lists, the names
of élus, such as Roquette, Xaintrailles and Choiseul, feature alongside those
of the Estates’ permanent officers, notably Chartraire, Rigoley and Lamy,
and members of the illustrious robe dynasties of Bouchu, Bouhier and
Macheco. As for the outstanding 210,014 livres, much of that came from
162 Ibid ., fols. 153–5, Rigoley to the élus, 3 February 1700.
163 Ibid ., and BMD MS 2240, fol. 73. Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 24 March 1699.
164 ADCO C 3143, fols. 161–2, Henri-Jules to the élus, January 1698.
165 BMD MS 2239, fol. 292, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 10 August 1690.
166 For a good example of their attitude, see ADCO C 3161, fols. 256–7, the élus to Voysin, 12 August
1715.
167 The following is based upon an examination of the loans contracted in 1700 and on the interest
paid, or capital reimbursed, on existing rentes during that year, ADCO C 3145. For a more thorough
examination of the debt over the period as a whole see Potter and Rosenthal, ‘Politics and public
finance’, and their ‘The Burgundian estates’ bond market’ as well as Potter, ‘Good offices’.
familiar sources, including various scions of the Chartraire and Thésut clans
and the religious houses and hospitals of the province.
These figures were representative of a more general pattern, as an exam-
ination of the interest paid on a portion of the province’s debt at the end of
December 1700 makes clear. The élus issued instructions for payment of in-
terest on some 2,997,600 livres of debt, of which 597,000 livres (20 per cent)
was owed to the élus, permanent officers and their immediate families. An-
other 1,205,200 livres (40 per cent) had been borrowed from the members
of the Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and Bureau des Finances of Dijon,
and 238,301 livres (8 per cent) from the religious houses and hospitals of
Burgundy. These figures underestimate the lending by the first two groups,
as only those creditors whose affiliation was clearly stated have been in-
cluded. That left 957,099 livres (32 per cent) which had been provided by
members of the extended families of the above, and by a wider cross section
of the public. Amongst these were intimates of the governor, notably Jean
Thésut de Ragy who alone had 76,500 livres invested, and courtiers such
as Claude Charlotte de Grandmont, the duc de Lauzun and the comte
d’Estrées whose combined investment totalled 170,000 livres.
Yet, despite the presence of these aristocrats, it is striking that all but
the tiniest fraction of the lenders recorded in 1700 were Burgundians, and
the presence of the élus, permanent officers and leading members of the
Estates and sovereign courts of Dijon was overwhelming.168 They were able
to profit from the great expansion of the debt at the end of the seventeenth
century, and while it would not prevent the Estates from driving a hard
bargain in their negotiations with the crown, the benefits of the fiscal system
almost certainly contributed to the lack of serious opposition after 1688.
The continued expansion of the debt in the eighteenth century widened the
circle of those lending to the Estates, and, in their impressive studies of the
subject, Potter and Rosenthal have demonstrated that the credit network
spread well beyond the province itself. However, at the end of Louis XIV’s
reign the idea that lending to the Estates should be a local prerogative was
widespread, which speaks volumes for the creditworthiness of the Estates.
During the long and phenomenally expensive reign of Louis XIV, the
Estates of Burgundy had developed a fiscal structure whose principal fea-
tures would remain intact until 1789. At the beginning of his personal rule,
the king had confronted an institution long accustomed to resisting his fis-
cal demands by haggling over the size of the don gratuit, or by deliberately
168 Presumably offering some compensation to the parlementaires who were suffering financially on
other fronts, Hurt, Louis XIV and the parlements, pp. 67–124.
delaying payments to the royal treasury. Only gradually did the pattern
change as Louis XIV and Colbert took advantage of the relatively peaceful
and prosperous decade after 1661 to establish a more harmonious relation-
ship with the Estates. The king’s memoirs provide an enduring testament
to the ideal of a beneficent monarch ruling his obedient Estates through
the exercise of paternal generosity and good faith. There was some truth in
this rosy picture, and the Sun King’s initial success in ending the haggling
and procrastination of earlier times owed much to his conscious policy of
rewarding obedience.
Once war returned to darken the horizon after 1672, there was no revival
of public resistance to the king’s fiscal policies, even when he broke the
good intentions contained in his memoirs. Yet, this should not be taken
as evidence that the Estates had been silenced, or that they were simply
content to bask in the rays of the Sun King. As he grew older, Louis
XIV was increasingly intolerant of dissent, and to oppose his wishes in
wartime was to court disaster. Instead, the élus and the Estates, ably assisted
by the governor, learnt new techniques of bargaining with the ministry.
Usually abonnements, or ‘buy outs’, could be negotiated with at least the
compensation of some form of aid, such as the rights to the crues or octrois.
Nor were the Estates frightened of refusing the crown’s terms if it proved
reluctant to reduce its demands. In the context of the times it is doubtful if
much more was possible, especially once the effects of venality had reduced
the scope for opposition within the traditionally belligerent third estate.
Another major cause of the relative calm of the Estates in the face of the
fiscal onslaught after 1688 was the growth of the provincial debt and the
development of its credit structure. After 1688, the Estates demonstrated
that representative institutions could be of immense value to the absolute
monarchy. Rather than impose unacceptable levels of taxation and risk a
return to the fiscal revolts of the Thirty Years War, the crown obliged the
Estates to borrow on its behalf. Crucially by alienating the revenues from
the crues, octrois and, after 1710, direct taxation, it provided the means to
underwrite those loans. The Estates were happy to accept the bargain, as
their influence and prestige was reinforced while their members and other
provincial elites were the principal beneficiaries of a sound investment op-
portunity. As many of those investors controlled the fiscal administration of
the province, there were good grounds for public confidence. As the inten-
dant, Harlay, explained in a letter to the contrôleur général, Pontchartrain,
in a letter of May 1687, they:169
169 AN G7 157, fol. 55, Harlay to Pontchartrain, 19 May 1687.

keep such a strict account of all the expenditure of the province, from the largest
to the most insignificant, never authorizing any [payment] without [an] ordinance
registered by the élus, [that] there is nothing of this type of which the king could
not be informed in an instant if it so pleased you.
Burgundian elites could thus relax content in the knowledge that they
would receive regular interest payments and the eventual reimbursement
of their capital. The War of the Spanish Succession would begin the process
of widening and deepening the province’s credit networks, something that
itself would be possible because of earlier success. Amidst the financial
ruins of 1715, the Estates could reflect on the fact that they had proved their
continuing utility and, unlike the crown, they had survived the reign of
Louis XIV with their reputation for financial integrity intact.
chapter 7
Provincial administration in an age of iron,

1661–1715
In the face of the relentless fiscal pressure exerted by the government of

Louis XIV, the Estates of Burgundy had proved effective in protecting their
own privileges and the interests of local elites. Bargaining over taxation,
contracting loans and securing concessions from the crown were, however,
only part of the story. Once these matters had been settled, it was the
responsibility of the chamber of élus to supervise the collection of tax
revenues and to cope with any problems arising from, for example, the
provision of military étapes, or the raising of the militia. They were also
expected to meet the challenge posed by a series of emergencies, notably
the subsistence crises caused by the harsh climatic conditions of the late
seventeenth century. It was a demanding brief, and the only historian to
have examined the provincial administration in detail during this period
was damning in his assessment of its actions.
Citing the criticisms contained in the various remarques of the alcades
and conseils des états, Thomas wrote scathingly of the incompetence of the
élus.1 He claimed that the provincial administration was a lethargic and
hidebound institution, arguing that ‘all the great administrative projects,
the stud, manufacturing, the forests, the canals, the bridges and highways,
would have remained in neglect if the central government had not pushed
and prodded the sloth and ignorance of the provincial government’.2 As
for the fiscal administration, it was, if anything, worse, and he fulminated
against what he termed the ‘brutal and blind methods of the fisc’,3 adding
that ‘in no other province, and perhaps at no other time, has the levy of
taxation cost what it cost then in Burgundy’.4 The local administration
certainly contained abuses, and it was frequently guilty of acting unwisely,
but such a sweeping condemnation needs taking with a pinch of salt.
Writing in the political context of the 1840s, Thomas was determined to
1 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 133–4, 141–3.

2 Ibid., pp. 133–4. 3 Ibid., p. 143. 4 Ibid., p. 141.
194
Provincial administration in an age of iron 195
prove the virtues of a strong centralised state. From such an ideological
standpoint, the provincial estates were a troublesome anachronism whose
shortcomings he was anxious to highlight. Many of his conclusions are open
to challenge, and Pierre de Saint Jacob, although not primarily concerned
with the Estates, did hint in his classic study of the Burgundian peasantry
that the picture was less black and white.5 This study shares that conviction,
and after an interval of more than 150 years the conduct of the provincial
administration is ripe for re-evaluation.
t h e ta i l l e
Before the introduction of the capitation in 1695, direct taxation in France
was synonymous with the taille, which, in Burgundy, included the monies
raised for local purposes as well as those paid to the crown. The élus were
responsible for tax collection, and once they had agreed the total to be levied
they divided it amongst the communities of the province. According to the
terms of the ‘treaties’ signed between the Estates and the états particuliers
of the comtés, the Mâconnais contributed one-twelfth of the overall total,
the Charolais one-twenty-fourth and Bar-sur-Seine a sixtieth.6 The élus in
Dijon sent commissions to the local administrations, which were respon-
sible for their own portion of the taille. The size of the contribution paid
by the comtés was a source of frequent squabbles, with the états particuliers
arguing consistently that the élus in Dijon overtaxed them.7 Not surpris-
ingly, the élus rejected the charge, and to establish conclusively one way or
another would require a study in its own right. However, when the comté
of Bar-sur-Seine was absorbed into the administration of the duchy in 1721
there was no dramatic change in the scale of its fiscal contribution.8
The demise of the états particuliers of the Charolais in 1751, on the
other hand, was followed by a significant increase in taxation. During the
period from 1740 to 1751, a period dominated by the War of the Austrian
Succession, the Charolais had seen its contribution to the taille vary from
a low of 54,103 livres in 1741 to a high of 69,597 livres in 1748.9 In the
decade after 1751, it never paid less than 81,000 livres, and in 1758 a tax of
97,761 livres was imposed.10 This was an impressive increase, even allowing
5 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 173–209.

7 Ibid., pp. 216–17. A good example is provided by the complaints of the deputies from the Charolais
in 1697, ADCO C 2982, fols. 353–4.
8 As the taille rolls of 1710–30 make clear, ADCO C 4900–20.
9 ADCO C 4930–41. 10 ADCO C 4942–51.
for the effects of the Seven Years War which began in 1756. It, therefore,
seems reasonable to suggest that the complaints of the comtés in the period
before their union with the duchy formed part of a relatively successful
strategy designed to minimise their share of the tax burden. It would also
help to explain why the états particuliers of the Mâconnais fought so hard
to preserve their independence throughout the eighteenth century.
Within the duchy, however, it was the chamber of élus that held sway,
and it divided the taille amongst the different bailliages. Each community
was, in turn, assessed on the basis of a system of feu, or hearth, and in
the early seventeenth century the élus had regularly conducted ‘general
visits’ of the province to ensure that they were properly informed about
the property and income of the taillables. Once the rolls were complete,
the élus issued the commissions for tax collection to the receivers in the
various bailliages.11 Their ‘treaties’ stipulated that the taille was to be paid
in twelve equal portions commencing on 1 February, for which they were
paid fees for their services. While the receivers oversaw tax collection they
relied heavily upon the cooperation of the local population, and in July
of every year the élus sent a mandement to the different communities of
the province whose assemblies elected both the assessors (asséeurs) and the
collectors (collecteurs) of the taille.12
The assessors were expected to use a combination of local knowledge and
the record of the existing tax rolls to divide up the burden. Once they had
completed their task, the rolls were signed by the échevins and/or, two of the
most respected taillables chosen from those present at the original election.13
A copy was then taken to the relevant receiver who in turn signified his
approval before forwarding a copy to the élus. Once a given community’s
taille had been set, the collectors were left with the unenviable task of
knocking on doors in order to persuade their neighbours to part with their
hard-earned cash.14 Not surprisingly, the office was viewed as ‘abject and
contemptible’, and many of the wealthier taillables sought exemption.15
The only compensation for the collectors was the opportunity to retain a
tiny fraction, usually a few deniers per livre, of the revenues that passed
through their hands on route to the provincial receivers.
The first half of the seventeenth century had seen France convulsed
by almost constant tax revolts, and the lowly status of the collectors would
probably have rendered their task impossible without the threat of coercion.
11 For further details, see: d’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 51–71; Lamarre, Petites villes,
pp. 142–63, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 134–41.
12 D’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 100–2, and Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 103.
13 D’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, p. 111. 14 Ibid., pp. 207–13. 15 Ibid., p. 211.
Louis XIV’s restoration of order at a national level after 1661 undoubtedly
helped, but for the Burgundian peasantry the application of the law of
contrainte solidaire was a more immediate threat. The Parlement of Dijon
had upheld the principle that an entire community was responsible for the
taille in 1650,16 a decision that was regularly contested by the wealthiest
taillables. As a result, in their remonstrances of 1665, the Estates requested
a law confirming that the whole community, including those assessed for
cotes d’office, should be subject to contrainte solidaire.17 The crown issued
the necessary legislation on 24 November 1666, and a later declaration of
1710 upheld its principles.18 In effect, those who defaulted on their share of
the tax risked the sale of their goods, or even prison, and it was this threat
which helped to open doors to the collectors.
Needless to say, it was the receivers themselves who benefited most from
the business of tax collection. Provincial tax revenues flowed from their
coffers into those of the treasurer general in Dijon, or in the case of the taillon
and octroi ordinaire to the receveurs généraux des finances, who were royal
officeholders independent of the Estates.19 The élus were expected to police
the activities of both the treasurer general and the receivers in the bailliages
by scrutinising their annual accounts (états au vrai). Finally, as elsewhere
in the kingdom, it was the local Chambre des Comptes that was charged
with verifying and approving the final accounts of the treasurer general and
the receivers. Here, in essence, are the broad outlines of the Burgundian
tax system, which has been accused of, amongst other things, arbitrariness,
inequality, corruption and negligence.20 There is some substance to these
claims, but there is also evidence that the degree of criticism has been
excessive.
s upe rv i s i o n o f ta x co l l e ct i o n
Despite occasional disputes amongst legal experts, the taille in Burgundy
was generally recognised to be personnelle, that is to say dependent upon
the legal status of an individual, and was levied primarily on income from
land, although other revenues could be taken into consideration. To work
effectively, the system required accurate information about the wealth of
taxpayers, and to gather that knowledge the élus were expected to undertake
regular ‘general visits’ of the various towns and communities of the duchy.
16 Root, Peasants and king, pp. 40–2. 17 ADCO C 3328, fol. 136.
18 ADCO C 4730. 19 D’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 224–5.
20 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 136–45, 216–17. Bouchard, ‘Comptes borgnes’, was equally
scathing.
The virtues of such a procedure are obvious, and yet it has been claimed
that during the reign of Louis XIV they were carried out irregularly, if at
all.21 General visits were, however, carried out in 1679, 1686 and 1689–90
and something very similar was enacted in 1700, and the élus were never
completely inactive.22 Instead, they tended to replace the general survey
with visits to individual communities, usually after receiving a request from
the municipality or the local inhabitants.23
The town of Saulieu, for example, petitioned the Estates of 1688 for
a visit on the basis that the town’s economic circumstances had much
deteriorated since its last inspection.24 The request was approved along
with several others of a similar nature, and within a few weeks the élus had
acted, sending the élu du roi, Baüyn, to Saulieu where he oversaw the visit. In
effect, what they had ordered was the preparation of a nouveau pied de taille,
namely a reassessment of the fiscal burden within a given community.25 This
procedure had been authorised by an arrêt du conseil of November 1666
(confirmed on 6 June 1667), which stipulated that prudhommes, or assessors
be appointed to draft a new taille roll in the presence of a representative
of the chamber of élus. After 1690, it appears that the chamber sought to
substitute regular nouveaux pieds de taille for the more expensive general
visits. While ultimately less effective, the procedure did improve the quality
of the information at the disposal of the élus and helped to reduce the scope
for fraud on the part of the wealthier taxpayers.
Similar motives had led to the élus being granted the right to impose
cotes d’office in 1641. If an individual was suspected of evading his fair
share of the tax burden, for example by bribing or threatening the assessors,
the élus had the right to fix his tax assessment by administrative fiat. Thus,
in 1697, Jacques Goussard, a fermier from Arc-sur-Thil, was assessed by cote
d’office on the basis that:
Goussard had over several years made a large number of substantial purchases
and that he was responsible for all of the commerce of the said community, and
although they [the assessors] were permitted to increase his contribution to take
account of his acquisitions they did not dare to act for fear that he would start a
lawsuit against them.26
21 Arbassier, L’intendant Bouchu, p. 101, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 136–45.
22 The visit of 1700 is discussed below.
23 Examples include: Beaune (1668), ADCO C 2997, fol. 124; Avallon (1688), C 3133, fol. 398; Montbard
(1692), C 3137, fol 389; Chalon-sur-Saône (1690), C 3135, fols. 48–9.
24 ADCO C 2999, fols. 133–4.
25 A useful history of the procedure in Burgundy is contained in a draft règlement prepared during
the reign of Louis XVI, ADCO C 3452, ‘Règlement du 1er février sur l’administration et régie des
finances renouvellé dans plusiers de ses dispositions par délibération du 19 février 1777’.
26 ADCO C4957, bis, fol. 1.
These details were contained in a requête signed by more than twenty local
inhabitants and was accompanied by a report from Baudot, mayor of Dijon.
Here was the classic justification of the cote d’office, namely that it offered a
means of preventing wealthy taxpayers from using their influence to avoid
paying their fair share of the taille. The potential benefits of the procedure
persuaded the conseils des états, in their remarques of 1700, to demand that
the élus use cotes d’office when conducting visits in the duchy.27 Yet despite
its apparent usefulness, it was not always a very accurate weapon. Most
of the decisions to impose a cote were the result of denunciations from
neighbours, and the veracity of their complaints is questionable to say the
least. Moreover, taxpayers who wished to appeal had few options, as they
were required to lodge their protest before the élus themselves, and if that
was unsuccessful to seek justice before the king’s council. The evidence
that survives suggests that the cote d’office was employed sparingly during
the reign of Louis XIV, but that, as the eighteenth century progressed, it
became a regular practice. One of the consequences was a series of angry
confrontations with the Parlement of Dijon, which claimed the right to
hear appeals itself, and increasingly complaints from those subject to what
appeared to be the arbitrary authority of the élus.28
Whatever its practical deficiencies the cote d’office was intended to protect
the ordinary taillables from the machinations of their wealthy neighbours.
Similar motives lay behind the Estates’ repeated demands for a law restrict-
ing the opportunity for appeals against increases in taille assessments. The
problem was stated succinctly in the remonstrances presented to Louis XIV
in 1689. They declared that:
as the frequent lawsuits, that the wealthiest inhabitants start almost daily in op-
position to the surtax of the taille, ruin the best part of the communities of this
province, which usually collapse under the expense, Your Majesty is very humbly
beseeched to issue a declaration, stating that, in future, no inhabitant shall be heard
in opposition to his taille, if he cannot justify by reference to the last roll that it
has been increased by [at least] an eighth without good cause.29
Reducing the scope for opposition to their decisions was undoubtedly a
tempting prospect for the élus, and in a litigious age their desire to cut the
number of petty court cases was understandable. The call for a new law
was repeated regularly thereafter without success, and it was not until 1719
that the crown finally issued the necessary arrêt du conseil. The Parlement
of Dijon promptly refused to register the necessary letters patent,30 and
it was not until 1735 that a law was finally enforced which restricted
27 ADCO C 3000, fol. 154. 28 These themes are examined in chapters 9 and 12.
29 ADCO C 3329, fol. 105. 30 Presumably because they wished to hear any subsequent appeals.
appeals against a ‘surtax’ to those whose liability had been increased by
at least one-twelfth.31 The Estates were delighted with the arrêt, and they
petitioned successfully for its renewal at the beginning of every subsequent
triennalité.
Another important source of information available to the chamber of élus
came from the requêtes submitted by individuals and communities either
directly, or via the assemblies of the Estates. Most were appeals for aid after
frost, hail or some other natural calamity had destroyed property, crops or
livestock. If the requête was accompanied by a procès verbal signed by the
local seigneur, priest or municipal officer then it was likely to be approved.
Thus in May 1688, the élus considered the plight of the villages of Saint-
Martin-de-Vaulx and Mercurey in the Chalonnais, whose vines had been
stripped by hail. As the necessary paperwork was in order, the chamber
instructed the local receiver ‘to treat the inhabitants and communities as
quit of the sums discharged on their taxes for the current year 1688’.32
The registers of the élus are full of similar deliberations and even the most
humble individual could hope for a favourable hearing.
If the élus were better informed and more active than some of their
critics have imagined, their actions were not always disinterested. When
it came to distributing the tax burden there was an obvious temptation
to favour their own towns, or the villages on their estates, with a light
assessment. In a letter to the secrétaire des états, Rigoley, written in May
1699, the governor, Henri-Jules, referred to rumours ‘that several estates
of the leading inhabitants are treated far too lightly’.33 The practice was
denounced by the alcades in 1715, who claimed that ‘each one of them
[the élus] has assumed the right to secure for their favoured town a consid-
erable reduction [in the taille]’.34 While such behaviour is hardly surprising,
the fact that the alcades could persuade the assembly to forbid it in the fu-
ture is a good example of their continuing efforts to police the activities of
the provincial administration.
Yet even when enshrined in the format of a décret these pious hopes were
unlikely to restrain the élus for long. Notions of bureaucratic impartiality
were alien to the mental world of Louis XIV’s France, and it was assumed
that those in authority would use their influence to their own advantage.
The bad example was set at the highest level. In June 1703, for example,
the prince de Conti informed the élus of ‘the extreme poverty’ of Mailly-
le-Château, a parish on one of his estates, and asked for its taille to be
31 ADCO C 3331, fols. 12, 17, 68.
32 ADCO C 3173, fols. 306–7. The shortfall was made up by increasing the burden elsewhere.
33 BMD MS 2240, fol. 79, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 8 May 1699. 34 ADCO C 3042, fol. 303.
reduced.35 The chamber was quick to comply. Nor were great aristocrats
the only ones to take advantage of their position. The secretary of state, La
Vrillière, wrote to the élus in May 1702, informing them that the inhabitants
of Tanlay were overtaxed and needed relief, adding that ‘I know that, on like
occasion, you have been so kind as to relieve them on the recommendation
of my father’.36 Such requests were difficult to refuse, and the élus clearly
knew what was expected of them. When the son of the contrôleur général,
Nicolas Desmarets, was appointed abbé of the church of Saint Bénigne in
Dijon, the élus informed his father that ‘our first care in distributing the taille
was to reduce the burden on the parishes and communities depending upon
the abbey of Saint Bénigne’.37 To expect the élus to behave any differently
when assessing their own towns and villages requires an extremely optimistic
view of human nature. Those historians who have berated the corruption of
the Burgundian tax system have solid evidence to support their arguments,
but we should be aware that any attempt to apply modern standards of
equity to seventeenth-century institutions runs the risk of anachronism.
The ethics of the élus are not the only things to have been called into
question, and it was frequently alleged that they failed to control the activ-
ities of the receivers of the taille.38 Probably the most important example
of this supposed laxity was the perennial problem of tax arrears. The taille
was paid in cash, an extremely rare commodity in the reign of Louis XIV,
and access to it opened up many lucrative investment possibilities for the
receivers. The longer the gap between tax collection and the transfer of
those funds to Dijon, the greater their profits were liable to be. Clearly it
was in the interest of the receivers to devise every possible excuse for delay,
and their accumulation of substantial fortunes suggests that they were ex-
pert procrastinators.39 They were helped by an inbuilt delay within the tax
system, confirmed by a décret of 1662, which ordered them to present their
accounts to the chamber of élus within eighteen months of the completion
of any given tax year.40
However, in 1697, the alcades alleged that several receivers were more
than eighteen months behind schedule and suggested a reglèment ordering
the élus to verify their payments before authorising further borrowing.41
These good intentions do not appear to have improved matters. In 1706,
35 ADCO C 3148, fols. 413–14, Conti to the élus, 15 June 1703, and ibid., fol. 414, 18 June 1703, for their
reply. Such favouritism was widespread and firmly entrenched, see Collins, Fiscal limits of absolutism,
pp. 169–73.
36 ADCO C 3147, fol. 377, La Vrillière to the élus, 19 May 1702.
37 AN G7 163, fol. 141, the élus to Desmarets, 22 December 1710.
38 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 137–41. 39 See chapter 5.
the alcades again denounced the conduct of the receivers, arguing that ‘the
province pays them 5 deniers per livre on condition that they advance the
fund of their receipts from month to month . . . yet there is not one of them
who fulfils the said treaty, it is unjust that they profit from this remittance’.42
Periodic threats to withhold their fees did produce a short-term effect, but
similar complaints were still being voiced in the reign of Louis XVI.43 The
attitude of the élus was almost certainly tempered by the essential role played
by the receivers in the provincial administration, but even if they had been
stricter, forcing the receivers to meet the terms of their ‘treaties’, it was
not necessarily going to improve the lot of the taillables. Any pressure on
the tax collectors would have been quickly passed on to the peasantry, and
by allowing a bit of slack the tax system functioned relatively effectively,
and Burgundy did not experience fiscal revolts like those that affected the
Boulonnais or Brittany.44
Late payments to the treasurer general did, however, force the élus to
borrow in order to cover the shortfall, thus increasing the fiscal pressure
on the taillables on whom the interest charges were levied. If those arrears
became too excessive they might even endanger the credit of the Estates,
which meant that the élus could not afford to be too negligent in their
treatment of the receivers. They also possessed the means to bring the
receivers to heel because the Estates had the right to withhold their fees,
or in extreme cases strip them of their commissions. Thus, in 1710, the
activities of Perrin, receiver of the Charolais, caused the officers of the
états particuliers to appeal for help. The élus responded with a terse letter,
informing Perrin that:
the élus of the Charolais have informed us that you make your collections in a
fashion that distresses [the people] of this comté and that for trifling sums that
are owed to you, seize a large quantity of livestock causing serious complaint, it
is important that you make the collections of which you are authorised, but the
people must be treated carefully . . . we recommend that you take heed for otherwise
we shall be obliged to act.45
Thereafter Perrin needed to tread warily, as it would not be difficult to
replace him in the coveted place that he occupied. The receivers also needed
to beware of exhausting the patience of the chamber. Tired of hearing
Daniel Rémond, receiver of Châtillon-sur-Seine, blame his arrears on the
42 ADCO C 3042, fol. 84. 43 See chapters 8 and 11.

44 For details of the revolt in the Boulonnais, see Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 31, 36, 311–12. The
Breton revolt has been examined by Collins, Classes, estates, and order, pp. 249–88.
45 ADCO C 3155, fols. 517–18, the élus to Perrin, November 1710.
rebelliousness of a group of villages within his jurisdiction, the élus decided
to check for themselves.46 The vicomte-maire of Dijon, La Botte, was sent to
Châtillon-sur-Seine with instructions to examine Rémond’s conduct and
to decide if his claims were justified. Regular checks of this type would
undoubtedly have had a salutary effect, but the élus tended to react to
events rather than initiate good practice.
However, nothing was more certain to set alarm bells ringing in Dijon
than rumours of a receiver in financial difficulty. When, in November
1667, Antoine de La Croix, receiver of Saint-Laurent was discovered to owe
the Estates a substantial sum from the taille of the previous year he was
given just two weeks to set his house in order.47 He failed to re-establish
confidence, and he was forced to sell his office a few months later.48 A
similar disaster struck Charles Bailly, receiver of Bar-sur-Seine, in 1707.49
When informed of his problems, the élus ordered the treasurer general to
prepare a precise account of his debt, gave instructions for his accounts to
be checked – if necessary by force – and made preparations to replace him.
He was found to owe some 43,978 livres, almost the entire revenue from
the taille of Bar-sur-Seine for 1706 and 1707, as well as a significant sum to
the governor. Bankruptcies such as those suffered by La Croix and Bailly
were comparatively rare, and the threat they posed was sufficient to rouse
even the most lethargic of élus.
If the alcades were frequently critical of the receivers, they were more cir-
cumspect when it came to the activities of the treasurer general, presumably
because of the extremely close ties between the Chartraire family and suc-
cessive governors.50 The Chambre des Comptes presented a more vulnerable
target. There were periodic attacks on the épices charged by the court during
the first two decades of Louis XIV’s personal rule,51 and it required the gov-
ernor’s mediation to produce a mutually acceptable settlement in 1679.52
According to the terms of that agreement, the Chambre des Comptes would
process ‘all types of monies destined for the use of the province, whether
they have been raised, borrowed or levied on salt, or otherwise, in whatever
manner it might be’.53 It was also agreed that épices would be fixed at a rate
46 ADCO C 3159, fol. 244. 47 ADCO C 3447, and C 2997, fol. 109.
48 The receivers were not venal officers in the conventional sense. Instead, they held commissions from
the Estates which they could sell, or pass on to their descendants, under certain conditions, see
chapter 5.
49 ADCO C 3432, and C 3152, fols. 356–7, 361, 365.
50 See chapter 4. 51 ADCO C 2997, fol. 45.
52 ADCO C 3485, ‘Mémoire des observations faites sur les épices que la chambre des comptes perçoit
sur les comptes des impositions de la province’. This memoir was written during the reign of Louis
XVI, and supplies a history of the quarrels between the Estates and the Chambre des Comptes.
53 Ibid.
of one percent of the sums processed. Despite these seemingly precise terms
there were still occasional outbursts against the Chambre in the assemblies
of the Estates, and in 1706 the alcades launched a full-scale denunciation.
They declared that:
the épices paid to the Chambre des Comptes are one of the greatest expenses of
this province, the rights attributed to it are exorbitant, they should only charge on
monies raised by taxation, but they go much further, they charge indistinctly on the
total of the general receipts and often three or four times on the same sum, on
the arrears of old accounts, on the receipts of the receivers [of the taille], on the
remittances that the king grants on the transport of monies to the royal treasury,
on loans, the crues of salt, francs-fiefs, capitation and the militia, finally, on all forms
of monies under whatever title they might be presented before them.54
The Chambre des Comptes was certainly well rewarded, although its critics
tended to forget that the multiplicity of fiscal officers meant that a whole
series of separate accounts required auditing. As a result, when the duc de
Bourbon negotiated a new ‘treaty’ between the Chambre and the Estates in
1715, it did no more than clarify the épices paid for the different financial
transactions.55 All matters pertaining to the taille, crues and the octrois levied
on the river Saône were classed as ‘ordinary affairs’, with 1 per cent to be
charged in épices as before. The other financial transactions, notably loans
and abonnements, were treated as ‘extraordinary affairs’, with épices fixed at
the ‘four hundreths’, or 250 per 100,000 livres. A long period of comparative
harmony followed, and it was not until the reign of Louis XVI that the fees
of the Chambre des Comptes again became a target of reformers.
As the issue of the épices demonstrates, the Estates continued to take a
close interest in the fiscal system, scrutinising its administration and making
suggestions for its improvement. The 1680s, in particular, witnessed a series
of reforming Estates, and one of their most notable décrets was that of 1688,
forbidding the treasurer general ‘to make payments of mandements and
ordinances other than those signed by at least two of the élus of the [three]
orders’.56 Amongst the more Byzantine practices of the chamber of élus was
its habit of treating each of the five taxes forming the taille in isolation,57
with each community being assessed for its contribution to the taillon,
garnisons or don gratuit separately. This allowed them to claim fees for each
tax, and not just once for the taille as a whole. The abuse was denounced
with vehemence by the alcades at the Estates of 1709, and the chambers
agreed to its reform.58
54 ADCO C 3042, fols. 84–5. 55 ADCO C 3485, ‘Mémoire des observations’.
56 ADCO C 2999, fols. 8–9. 57 For the composition of the taille, see chapter 6.
58 ADCO C 3042, fols. 157–8. Albeit not unanimously as the nobility opposed the measure.
The second half of the seventeenth century also witnessed a gradual
streamlining of the administration with a reduction in the number of fi-
nancial offices. In 1671, François Bazin succeeded in acquiring both the
office of treasurer ancien and alternatif and thereafter the Estates had a
single officer at the head of their finances.59 In the bailliages, the number of
receivers was also gradually reduced, and, by 1715, only Dijon and Autun
had more than one. Indeed, only the refusal of two out of the three receivers
at Autun to be reimbursed had preserved their precarious hold over their
offices after 1712. The case raised important questions because the Estates
had always maintained that the receivers were simple commissioners, who
could be appointed and dismissed at will. The duc de Bourbon threw him-
self into the fray on behalf of the Estates and after a lengthy legal battle they
emerged triumphant, and by 1730 the principle of one receiver per bailliage
was established.60 The policy of reducing the number of financial officers
had been consciously pursued over several decades, and, as the Estates of
1712 had made clear, the aim was to prevent confusion and ‘to avoid the
multiplication of expenses’.61 If reform had taken time to implement, it
had been achieved nevertheless.
Other useful measures can be cited, and, in a deliberation of 24 August
1686, the élus ordered the collectors to take the original taille roll to ‘the
receiver of their bailliage when making their first payment’.62 An exact copy
was then to be prepared and signed by the receiver who would forward it to
Dijon. The aim of the élus was to verify that the amounts levied tallied with
their orders. When the receivers proved reluctant to comply, the élus issued
a further deliberation in June 1687 threatening to withhold the gages of the
recalcitrant.63 At the Estates of 1700, further reforms were pursued after
the assembly had appointed a committee of the three orders to examine
the causes of abuse in the tax collection system and to propose means of
eradicating them.64 The result was a décret ordering the élus to undertake
a series of visits to each of the fifteen bailliages within the duchy. The
élus obeyed these instructions within weeks, and on 31 August issued a
series of deliberations sending commissioners to the principal towns of the
province. They were to liaise with the receivers and collect information on,
for example, the total number of inhabitants, the names of those suspected
of manipulating the assessors or collectors and details of any privileged
individuals known to engage in trade or commerce.65 It was a general
visit in all but name and it provides further proof that the Estates were
59 See chapter 4. 60 ADCO C 3157, fol. 650, and C 3433. 61 ADCO C 3001, fol. 194.
62 ADCO C 4730. 63 Ibid., deliberation of 11 June 1687.
64 ADCO C 3041, fols. 229, 235. 65 ADCO C 3145, fols. 471–4.
not indifferent to complaints about the provincial tax system. Indeed the
remarques of the alcades, and the remonstrances presented to the king,
were full of complaints about the nefarious effects of the excessive sale of
privileged offices after 1688.66 Finally, while the taille remained the main
focus of attention, that began to change after 1701 when the élus established
control over the levy of the capitation.67 They immediately set to work,
ordering the mayors and receivers to provide ‘an exact account of all the
privileged and [those] exempt from the taille and other taxes in your town,
and an estimate of the property and income that they possess . . . in order
that nobody is overlooked or has cause for complaint’.68
From this discussion, it is clear that the Burgundian fiscal system had its
fair share of inequalities, corruption and abuse, but there were also chinks
of light. Neither the Estates nor the élus were content to wallow in a sea of
iniquity, and if many of their proposed reforms fell short of their objectives
through want of resources, or the sustained political will to carry them out,
the same could be said of most seventeenth-century institutions.
ta x fa r m i n g
Tax collection was not the only preoccupation of the élus, and they were
also responsible for leasing the rights to the crues on the sale of salt and
the octrois levied on goods transported on the river Saône. Rather than
create the necessary administrative apparatus themselves, the Estates were
content to lease those rights to syndicates of tax farmers. In theory, this
should have meant auctioning the rights to the highest bidder, but the
leases were monopolised by the powerful local financial clans. Thus from
1695 to 1701, the receiver general of the crues was none other than François
Chartraire de Mypon, who was, in turn, succeeded by Edme Lamy whose
fingers were in nearly every Burgundian financial pie.69 He held the lease
until 1729 when it was taken over by his relative and protégé, Edme Seguin.
As for the farm of the octrois, that too was exercised by Lamy between 1704
and 1716, and it then passed to another of his relatives, Nicolas Fabry, who
was eventually succeeded by Edme Séguin in 1740.70
Perhaps not surprisingly, the concentration of so much power in so few
hands aroused suspicions of corruption in the bidding process. In a letter
66 For examples of the attacks on offices, see ADCO C 3329, fols. 113–14; C 3041, fol. 335; and Thomas,
Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 118–22.
67 See chapter 6.
68 ADCO C 3146, fols. 15–16, the élus to the mayors and receivers of Burgundy, 16 January 1701.
69 See chapter 5.
70 See: ADCO C 3044, fol. 47; C 3390, fol. 91; and C 5367.
to the contrôleur général, Pontchartrain, the ill-fated intendant, Florent
d’Argouges, accused the bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône of plotting against
him, adding that he had committed ‘this falsehood’ because ‘it pleased the
farmers of the octrois from whom this prelate has taken a good deal while
he was élu’.71 The paranoid intendant saw plots and cabals at every turn,72
but the bishop had been an élu in 1691 when the lease had been accorded
to a syndicate headed by Claude Girard, the former lieutenant criminel in
the bailliage of Chalon.73 From the perspective of the crown a more serious
worry than the existence of a few bribes was the fear that the élus allowed
the leases to be sold below their market value, either through negligence or
as part of a more sinister plot to share in the subsequent profits.74
There is some evidence that this was the case. In 1689, when Louis XIV
had first granted the octrois to the Estates, the governor fought hard to
win control over the auctioning process for the élus.75 He was nevertheless
careful to point out that they needed to act responsibly by allowing the
time and opportunity for as many syndicates as possible to present their
bids. That lease, and the revised one of 1691 criticised by d’Argouges, es-
caped official censure, but in 1696 fresh doubts were raised. The élu du
roi, Richard, informed Pontchartrain that the lease was being sold cheaply,
largely because of collusion amongst the rival syndicates.76 The governor
was also concerned that the élus had acted hastily, by not allowing sufficient
time for a number of Parisian entrepreneurs to enter the race.77 Henri-Jules
correctly predicted that a second auction would be ordered, and the annual
value of the lease eventually rose from the 191,000 livres initially accepted
from a syndicate based in Chalon, to 212,000 livres offered by its Parisian
rivals.78 It was, therefore, the contrôleur général, ably assisted by the gov-
ernor, who had, on this occasion, prevented the élus from underselling a
precious financial resource.
In addition to overseeing the renewal of the leases, the élus were expected
to deal with occasional crises. In 1703, the Parisian syndicate fronted by a
local man, Jean Cabrol, another Chalonnais, ran into financial difficul-
ties. At one point the Estates were owed 260,000 livres, a cause of grave
71 AN G7 158, fol. 306, D’Argouges to Pontchartrain, 1 November 1693.

72 He was eventually recalled in 1694 after antagonising a string of local worthies.
73 ADCO C 3384, fol. 27, and C 5366.
74 The élu du roi, Richard, claimed that the lease of 1696 was initially sold too cheaply, AN G7 159,
fol. 136, Richard to Pontchartrain, 20 August 1696.
75 ADCO C 3134, fols. 233–4, Henri-Jules to the élus, August 1689.
76 AN G7 159, fol. 136, Richard to Pontchartrain, 20 August 1696.
77 BMD MS 2239, fols. 366–7, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 29 August 1696, and ibid , 4 September 1696.
78 ADCO C 3141, fols. 363–4, 441, 501–2.
concern for the wider credit structure which depended so heavily upon
the income from the octrois. When the treasurer general reported in April
1704 that ‘he could not find a sol’ and that the province’s credit was on
the verge of collapse,79 the élus and the governor were obliged to launch
a rescue operation.80 Cabrol was imprisoned and had his property seized
before Henri-Jules and his secretary, Thésut de Ragy, worked out a com-
promise acceptable to both sides. The lease was broken and a new one
auctioned, and after such a nasty shock the élus were happy to transfer the
farm to the familiar and solvent hands of Edme Lamy. As far as the élus
were concerned it was an ideal solution. Whenever possible they preferred
to entrust their financial affairs to local men, and when, in 1728, they were
challenged about their actions, the example of Cabrol was cited in their
defence. They claimed that:
one of the principal concerns of this administration has been the care the élus
have always taken to confide the collection of provincial taxation to those whose
conduct, commitments and creditworthiness, by their property and reputation in
the province, is well known to them.81
Their policy had the additional advantage of protecting their administration
from the prying eyes of the crown.
stuck in the mud

As part of his propaganda offensive, Louis XIV was keen to have eques-
trian statues of himself, in suitably military pose, erected in towns and
cities throughout France.82 Dijon was not to be spared its own part in this
celebration, and in 1686 the governor obliged the élus to commission a
statue. The Estates of 1688 meekly ratified the decision, and the substantial
sum of 50,000 livres was advanced, although the deputies were far from
enthusiastic about the prospective site of the monument. Over the previous
decade they had been busy embellishing the Palais des États which had been
partially assigned to them by the king who was anxious to beautify Dijon
once the conquest of Franche-Comté had reduced its military importance.
When the governor informed them that the equestrian statue was to stand
at its centre, looming down on their Palais, the Estates were thoroughly
79 ADCO C 3149, fol. 378. 80 ADCO C 3148, fols. 233, 240–1, and C 3149, fols. 754–7.
81 ADCO C 5367, ‘Mémoire pour les élus généraux des états de Bourgogne contre les sieurs Le Normant
et compagnie’.
82 P. Burke, The fabrication of Louis XIV (London, 1992), pp. 3, 93–7, 156, and R. Mettam, ‘Power,
status and precedence: rivalries among the provincial elites of Louis XIV’s France’, Transactions of
the Royal Historical Society 38 (1988), 43–62.
dismayed. For the Estates, the building work had been intended to glorify
the province, and their pre-eminent place within it, not to reflect the ‘gloire’
of their sovereign. Yet, whatever their misgivings, they had no choice but
to comply. By 1692, the statue was complete and it began its journey from
Paris to Dijon, entering the province close to Auxerre. When all seemed lost,
relief arrived from an unexpected quarter, the province’s roads. A mixture of
bad weather and the appalling state of the highways made further progress
impossible.83 Repairs were needed before the statue could be moved and the
élus seized their opportunity, informing the governor that in time of war
it would be unpatriotic to divert funds to projects of beautification when
there were so many other pressing matters requiring their attention. Rather
than grace the Place Royal in Dijon, Louis XIV’s equestrian monument
was parked in a barn in the village of La Brosse where it would remain for
the next thirty years.
This amusing tale says much about the ability of provincial elites to
sidestep the demands of the king, but were Burgundy’s roads really in such
a pitiful state?84 The question is an important one because the Estates were
responsible for their upkeep, and during the decade after 1680 there had
been a serious attempt to improve the quality of their administration. At
the Estates of 1682, the three orders had identified a series of problems,
notably persistent errors in the estimates for public works and a failure to
carry out proper checks once the digging had begun.85 The solution was to
appoint a qualified engineer to assist the élus. In addition to the above, he
was ordered to identify ‘those roads that it was suitable to build, or repair,
[and] to prepare projects and estimates for presentation to the élus during
their assemblies’. The engineer was also responsible for checking the quality
of materials and workmanship, and for his efforts he received gages paid by
the Estates.
The décret of 1682 inaugurated an office that in the eighteenth century
would provide one of the jewels in the province’s administrative crown.
Antoine Rouillet, who was the first man to hold the post, quickly impressed
his new employers. At the Estates of 1685 he reported that the ‘highways’
were in a ‘very poor state’, prompting the assembly to vote an annual sum
of 30,000 livres for their repair.86 Three years later that fund was increased
to 36,000 livres as part of a wide-ranging décret setting out the duties of the
engineer and the regulations to be followed by the chamber of élus when
83 Mettam, ‘Power, status and precedence’, 57–8.
84 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 162–3, was convinced that this was the case, commenting
that ‘la médiocrité du reseau routier ne fait pas de doute’.
85 ADCO C 2999, fol. 12. 86 Ibid., fols. 78–9.
distributing public works contracts.87 The décret supplied the foundations,
or perhaps more accurately the ideal, for the organisation of public works in
the province until well into the reign of Louis XV. A reforming breeze was
blowing through the Estates during the 1680s, and the élus themselves were
affected. In a deliberation of 1 April 1689, the chamber ordered Butard, élu
of the third estate, to investigate the:
repairs of the highways and to examine all the contracts authorised by the élus over
the previous ten years, [to] establish what the entrepreneurs were paid and what
remains due on the price of their tenders, the examinations that have been made
of their works, those that have not been verified . . . and if the entrepreneurs meet
the clauses and conditions of their contracts.88
In theory, therefore, the provincial administration had a well-regulated
system for the maintenance of its roads. Aided by an expert engineer, the élus
were expected to identify where new routes were needed or repairs required
before opening public works contracts for bids by entrepreneurs, whose
estimates, use of materials, workmanship and final product were subject
to verification. In seventeenth-century France, the fine words contained in
the official decrees of the Estates of Burgundy should no more be taken at
face value than the similarly impressive sounding legislation of the king.
There remained an immense gulf separating the good intentions of the
administrators in Dijon from the reality in the province at large, and the
statue of Louis XIV was not the only traveller to get stuck in the mud.
For the décrets to be put into practical effect required diligence and hard
work on the part of the élus. When this was forthcoming, as in April 1689,
much could be achieved, but with the membership of the chamber chang-
ing every three years there could be no guarantee that such zeal would be
maintained. Instead, negligence and abuse could creep into the administra-
tion. In August 1693, the intendant, d’Argouges, sent a damning report to
the contrôleur général denouncing the conduct of the élus.89 He claimed that
despite the décret ordering them to spend 30,000 livres on the highways,
‘they do not even spend 4,000 livres, and they use the surplus as they see fit’.
According to the intendant, they also authorised payment to their preferred
contractors confident ‘that no one would dare question their conduct, and
the Chambre de Comptes always plays their game because it provides two élus
at each triennalité’. D’Argouges had almost certainly blackened the picture
because his letter was part of a request to be allowed to verify the actions of
the chamber. Yet even less biased observers found much to criticise. One
87 Ibid., fols. 126–30. 88 ADCO C 3055, deliberation of 1 April 1689.
89 AN G7 158, fol. 284, d’Argouges to Pontchartrain, 20 August 1693.
of the most common complaints concerned the diversion of funds away
from the main roads to the benefit of the élus themselves. As d’Argouges’
more tactful successor, Ferrand, observed, too often money was spent on
‘repairs that the élus in place have made during their triennalité on the roads
leading to their estates and chateaux’.90 The intendant claimed that no less
than two-thirds of the budget put aside by the Estates for the repair of the
highways was being siphoned off in this fashion, and he was not alone in
his opinion.
The fermiers de la diligence running between Paris and Lyon presented
a series of allegations to the contrôleur général in 1699.91 After noting that
Rouillet had prepared the necessary reports on repairs to be undertaken,
they declared that:
for the last two years, the fund has been distributed at the discretion of the élus and
to their entire satisfaction on tracks and roads that serve no other purpose than to
go to their estates.
Thus 10,000 livres had been spent on the orders of the bishop of Autun,
élu of the clergy, a further 7,000 livres to improve a minor road linking
the château of the comte de Chevigny, élu of the nobility, with Semur-
en-Auxois and Montbard and 5,000 livres to repair a bridge connecting
the estates of Bonaventure Rémond, deputy of the Chambre des Comptes,
with the road to Châtillon-sur-Seine. Other examples were cited, and an
examination of the deliberations of the élus confirms the veracity of these
allegations.92 The efforts of the Estates to improve Burgundy’s roads were
thus being undermined from within, and it has to be said that the élus
were not the only ones abusing the system. The king’s ministers set an
equally poor example. When the secretary of state, La Vrillière, heard that
the bridge at Tanlay was on the verge of collapse, he informed the élus that
‘I have also been informed that it will ruin my best meadows and one of
my mills, so I kindly request that, as this is a public work, which will cause
severe prejudice to commerce, you give the necessary orders’.93
Not surprisingly in these circumstances contemporary reports are unan-
imous in declaring Burgundy’s roads to be a threat to life and limb and
accidents were common.94 Even the governor himself had a narrow escape
90 AN G7 159, fol. 346, Ferrand to Pontchartrain, 7 April 1699.

91 Ibid., fol. 347, ‘Mémoire de ce qui est à observer de la consommation mal employé du fond fait
pour la réparation des grands chemins de la province de Bourgogne pendant la triennalité qui a
commencé l’année 1697’.
92 ADCO C 3145, fols. 357, 588, deliberations of 27 July and 19 November 1700.
93 ADCO C 3146, fol. 120, La Vrillière to the élus, 1 February 1701.
94 AN G7 159, fol. 345, Ferrand to Pontchartrain, 7 April 1699.
when travelling to the Estates along the road from Auxerre to Dijon.95
When looked at from a short term perspective, the reforms of the 1680s
had failed in their objective. Yet we should be wary of expecting rapid re-
sults because administrative change in the seventeenth century proceeded
at an almost glacial pace. Progress required a change of mentalities as well
as constant surveillance from the Estates, governor or the crown before
effective results could be achieved.
After the complaints from the fermiers of the diligence, the Estates were
persuaded at their meeting of 1700 to increase spending on the highways to
120,000 livres.96 More importantly, the governor gave explicit instructions
for the roads from Auxerre to Dijon and from Dijon to Chalon-sur-Saône to
be repaired.97 Henri-Jules made it clear that he was working in consultation
with the new contrôleur général, Chamillart, and it was more difficult for the
élus to evade their instructions. The danger with such a personal approach
lay in the fact that abuse was likely to creep back in once the spotlight had
shifted. As a result, in 1709, the alcades suggested defining exactly what
the Estates meant by ‘highways’ in order to prevent confusion, whether
accidental or otherwise. Their suggestion was eventually acted upon, and
the Estates of 1715 adopted a new décret encompassing many of the reformist
ideas voiced at their assemblies over the previous two decades.98
Henceforth the highways were clearly defined on a map of the province
specifically drawn for that purpose. To prevent the élus straying from their
chosen path, the Estates stipulated that they would be expected ‘to conform
entirely to the map, without adding new roads or investing in others than
those indicated’. In future, they would be accountable for their actions
and, crucially their spending, before the assembled chambers. As the Estates
again felt the need to order the full implementation of their décret of 1688 at
their next meeting in 1718, it is clear that the provincial administration was
not transformed overnight. Yet the slow pace of change should not lead us
to conclude that the Burgundian administration was completely inert. The
appointment of the chief engineer, the promulgation of the regulations
governing public works in the décret of 1688, and the designation of a
highway network in 1715 were positive achievements that would be built
upon in the years to come. Indeed, when the Estates were reminded in
1718 that the barn housing the equestrian statue of Louis XIV was in need
of repair, there was a renewed attempt to transport it to Dijon. Under the
97 Ibid., fols. 434–5. The text contains a report from the secrétaire des états, Rigoley, on his voyage to
court, dated 19 August 1700.
98 ADCO C 3001, fol. 278.
auspices of the provincial engineer, Pierre Morin, the late king’s monument
finally completed its journey to the provincial capital.99
m i l i ta ry m at t e r s
Nothing was more certain to send shivers down the spines of early modern
Europeans than the sight of approaching troops. Whether hostile or not,
they almost invariably brought disease, pillage and rape in their wake, and
it was not for nothing that the Estates paid the king an annual sum for
the privilege of exemption from billeting troops during the winter months.
Burgundy had nevertheless suffered grievously during the Thirty Years
War, most famously at the hands of the marauding Habsburg army of
Gallas, and the ostensibly friendly forces of Condé had scarcely behaved
more civilly during the Fronde. The threat of invasion receded after the
definitive conquest of Franche-Comté in 1678, but Louis XIV’s wars would
ensure that the province had to cope with the constant passage of troops
marching to the battlefields of Italy and Germany.
Traditionally the king had paid the cost of their food and lodgings, an
expense that Colbert was determined to pass on to the Estates, especially
after the outbreak of war in 1672.100 His aim was to persuade the élus to
appoint an étapier général, as in neighbouring Champagne, who would
‘furnish the étape in cash, while the province supplied everything necessary
above the king’s pay’. When the governor relayed these instructions to the
chamber, he warned them that ‘His Majesty will remove the fund of the
étapes from the province if it fails to do what he asks on this occasion’.
The élus would have been wise to accept the minister’s offer. Instead, they
succeeded in delaying a decision until the Estates of 1674, and continued to
drag their heels until Colbert eventually carried out his threat to suspend
payments of the étapes altogether.101 Repeated protests failed to reverse his
decision, and the Estates were reluctantly obliged to take up what would
prove to be a massive financial burden.102
Despite pressure from Colbert and a series of negotiations involving both
the governor and the intendant, the élus eventually chose not to appoint
an étapier général. Instead they established a system of their own, whereby
communities or individuals who were obliged to billet troops furnished
the necessary food and lodgings before claiming reimbursement from the
99 Blin, ‘Le procès de Pierre Morin’, 215–16, and Mettam, ‘Power, status and precedence’, 58.
100 ADCO C 3352, fols. 204, 207, Henri-Jules to the élus, 4 March 1672 and 28 October 1672.
101 ADCO C 3675, and C 3352, fol. 236, Henri-Jules to the élus, 1 November 1675.
102 See chapter 6.
Estates.103 To receive payment they were expected to provide a ‘billet’,
signed by the relevant municipal and military authorities, which could be
checked against the marching orders issued by the secretary of state for war.
Predictably Thomas was outraged, declaring that:
the entire system was founded upon an erroneous principle: the advances were
made by the community, or the inhabitant himself, the reimbursements by the
province. The repayments were neither prompt nor sure; the advances were always
obligatory and urgent.104
Gaston Roupnel was equally scathing, declaring that the ruinous effects
of the étapes in Dijon meant that by 1693 ‘the majority of innkeepers had
closed and left the city’.105
If the payments made by the élus were late, insufficient, or both, then
these arguments would be difficult to refute, and there is some evidence to
support their claims. The élus first began to reimburse the étapes in 1675 and
they quickly fell into arrears. In a deliberation of 4 April 1678, they ordered
the payment of the étapes for 1676 – a two-year delay with undoubtedly
unpleasant consequences for those affected.106 Part of the explanation for
their tardiness may well lie in the fact that in 1677 the Estates had issued a
règlement for the étapes, and it had taken time for the chamber to settle into
a regular working pattern. If that was the case, matters improved rapidly.
The élus divided the year into two parts, the first of five months and the
second of seven, to coincide with the official assemblies of the chamber, and
the repayment of the étapes was completed within six months of the end of
any given period.107 When, in the spring of 1687, anonymous complaints
reached the ears of the contrôleur général about supposed delays in the
refunding of the étapes, he asked the intendant, Harlay, for his opinion.108
Although he was under no obligation to support the élus, Harlay wrote
back in May confirming that the étapes for 1686 had already been paid in
full,109 and the registers of the chamber make it clear that such promptness
was common.
103 ADCO C 3675, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 153–65.
104 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 158–9.
105 Roupnel, La ville et la campagne, p. 35.
106 ADCO C 3675, deliberation of 4 April 1678.
107 Payments were made regularly and usually on time, see: ibid., deliberation of 6 February 1685,
paying the étapes for the last seven months of 1684; ibid, deliberation of 29 March 1689, paying
the last months of 1688; deliberation of July 1690 for the end of 1688; and C 3133, fols. 414–16,
deliberation of July 1688, paying the first five months of that year.
108 AN G7 157, fol. 55, Harlay to Pontchartrain, 19 May 1687.
109 Ibid. According to his account the complaints had arisen because of an earlier dispute between the
élus and the town of Montbard.
Thomas and Roupnel were arguably on firmer ground when they chal-
lenged the equity of a system that placed the initial expense on the popula-
tion rather than the province. Alternatives were, however, in short supply.
The actual number of troops passing through the province in any given
year fluctuated wildly, and if large sums of money had been advanced to
the towns and villages on the main military arteries the scope for fraud
and theft would have been immense. Moreover, trying to recoup unspent
funds after the event was certain to be time-consuming and probably fruit-
less, thus from an administrative perspective it made sense to verify claims
for expense actually incurred, and for the élus themselves to oversee final
payments. Harlay described the advantages of the Burgundian system in a
letter to the contrôleur général, noting that:
the officers of the chamber of élus can visit the towns that must be reimbursed, to
oversee the distribution which is carried out in their presence, following a method
they have practised over recent years very usefully to prevent the abuses and errors
that the mayors and échevins of the towns might commit if no one enlightened
their conduct in this regard.110
Again the information provided by the intendant tallied with that con-
tained in the registers of the élus, and by 1688 the system was working
sufficiently smoothly to win the approbation of the assembled Estates.111
As a result, a décret was passed removing the obligation for the élus to make
reimbursements in person, and permitting the mayors and échevins to act
in their stead. Thereafter the élus increasingly delegated responsibility, and
by the early eighteenth century the alcades were beginning to have second
thoughts about the wisdom of that decision. In their remarques of 1706, 1712
and 1715 they pressed the élus to resume full responsibility for overseeing
the reimbursements – a call that was only partially heeded.112
During the period from 1675 to 1715, both the élus and the Estates made
sporadic attempts to improve the efficiency of the étapes. As early as 1677,
the élus had realised that tampering with billets was a common form of
fraud, and refused to accept those that had been defaced.113 A further at-
tempt to tighten the procedure was introduced in a deliberation of May
1711.114 It stipulated that a register was to be kept in each of the province’s
town halls recording ‘the number of officers, cavalry, dragoons and soldiers’
lodged, together with their official route number issued by the secretary
110 Ibid. 111 ADCO C 2999, fol. 144. 112 ADCO C 3147, fols. 161–2, and C 3160, fol. 365.
113 ADCO C 3675, deliberation of 29 December 1677. Its terms were repeated in a second deliberation
of 3 June 1687.
114 Ibid., deliberation of 16 May 1711.
of state. The élus were clearly attempting to reduce fraud, and there are
examples of individuals being arrested after investigation by the procureurs
syndics.115
Occasional exemplary punishments were probably not enough to prevent
collusion between unscrupulous military officers and municipal officials,
who could inflate the size and cost of a particular étape. To try and curb
abuse, the Estates of 1694 had the bright idea of trying to count the num-
bers of officers and men as they left the province at Tournus, Auxonne,
Bar-sur-Seine and other frontier points, but even in the unlikely event that
an accurate count was possible it would not have told the chamber much
about where they had been lodged.116 Ultimately the Estates lacked the
manpower to police the étapes in anything more than a cursory fashion
because they relied upon the mayors and échevins to organise them and
provide the information needed for their repayment. They were asking
poachers to act as gamekeepers.
As we might expect, it was the third estate that was obliged to billet the
soldiery and the unpleasant nature of the task made exemption a highly
prized and useful privilege.117 The crown was quick to realise that it was
one of the most marketable commodities at its disposal when selling offices
during the war-torn years after 1688. The Estates frequently protested about
the nefarious effects of these exemptions in their remonstrances to Louis
XIV, albeit to no avail.118 They did, however, attempt to improve the lot of
those providing hospitality to the troops by cutting their taille assessments.
A décret of 1682, for example, ordered the élus to take billeting into con-
sideration when drawing up the tax rolls.119 What prevented these efforts
from having a significant impact was the sheer volume of troop movements
after 1688, which left almost no scope for such altruism. That pressure did,
however, force the élus to amend their procedures.
Prior to the outbreak of the War of the League of Augsburg, they had
levied an additional 80,000 livres on the taille to cover the costs of the
étapes, half of which was advanced to the main towns on the military thor-
oughfares to stockpile essential food and fodder.120 War transformed the
situation, and by March 1690 the élus were already expecting the étapes to
cost 300,000 livres (they, in fact, totalled 440,598 livres).121 To make up
115 Ibid., deliberations of 16 July 1696 and 4 February 1700. 116 Ibid.
117 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 183–4, cites a number of examples of the problems
posed by unruly troops during the 1690s.
118 Examples include: ADCO C 2980, fol. 313 (1654) and C 2982, fols. 255–6 (1691).
119 ADCO C 2999, fol. 18.
120 ADCO C 3675, deliberation of 9 March 1690, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 160.
121 ADCO C 3135, fol. 430, and AN H1 99, fol. 106.
the shortfall they borrowed 220,000 livres and agreed that the capital and
interest would be levied on the taille over the next four years. In 1692,
they made provision for a fund of 300,000 livres, but the amount required
to pay the étapes was a staggering 675,388 livres, forcing them to repeat
the exercise. Here was a perfect illustration of the problem they faced,
with the sheer unpredictability of the numbers involved upsetting even the
best-laid plans. In these difficult circumstances, the élus sought to borrow
the necessary funds, spreading the repayments over ever longer periods,
while simultaneously attempting to speed up the process of reimburse-
ment. In November 1694, for example, they began distributing money to
those most badly affected without waiting for the official starting date of
31 December.122
The annual payment of the subsistance et exemption meant that Burgundy
generally escaped the scourge of quartering royal armies during the winter
months. Whenever the crown feigned to ignore this principle, the élus were
quick to defend an important privilege, and they could usually count upon
the assistance of the governor. As the duc de Bourbon observed in August
1713, it was vital ‘to pay attention to the privileges and immunities that this
province has so long enjoyed on the faith of a treaty. It would be extremely
distressing for me if, at my accession, they were breached after having been
so religiously observed under my forefathers’.123 Plans to send as many as
fifty cavalry squadrons into the province in the winter of 1714 produced a
suitably robust response from abbé de Roquette and the marquis de Lassay,
respectively the élus of the clergy and nobility.124 They took advantage of
their presence at court to persuade the ministry to reverse its decision, and
thanked the secretary of state for war with a present of wine, a reward he
abstemiously declined.
The only significant breach of the province’s defences occurred during
the 1680s when the crown began to send cavalry regiments to quarter on
the pastures bordering the Saône near Auxonne.125 News that this was to
be repeated in 1687 prompted the élus to send one of their number, Pierre
Barbier, who was coincidentally the mayor of Auxonne, to prepare lodgings
for the officers and supplies for their mounts.126 As contact between civilian
and military officials was frequently tense, they asked the governor to send
a local nobleman, the comte de Foudras, to liaise with the cavalry officers.

123 AN G7 164, fol. 236, duc de Bourbon to Desmarets, 24 August 1713.
124 ADCO C 3160, fol. 57.
125 BMD MS 2239, fol. 206, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 24 May 1687, and C 2982, fol. 205.
126 ADCO C 3133, fols. 350–1.
Finally, the governor informed the commanding officer, the maréchal de
Boufflers, of the preparations made by the élus.127 With these elaborate
precautions, the élus had every reason to believe that the quartering would
pass off without serious incident. Indeed, when the government repeated
the exercise in 1714, the chamber followed the precedent from 1687 to the
letter.128
Through the experience gained in managing the étapes and the camps
on the Saône, the chamber progressively acquired knowledge and expertise
that was valuable to the crown. Their abilities would be tested even further
after 1688 when the king introduced the militia (milice), effectively a form
of conscription that remained in force until 1789.129 Each généralité was
expected to raise its share of troops, initially for garrison duty, but as Louis
XIV’s wars dragged on they increasingly filled the ranks of the regular army.
Within the duchy, the élus had responsibility for raising the militia and for
its prompt and peaceful mustering at the designated assembly points. It
would be difficult to exaggerate the unpopularity of the militia, which
was loathed by the peasant communities on whom the greatest burden
fell.130 The problems of evasion and desertion were rife, and any attempt
to force unwilling young men to participate in the drawing of lots brought
a potential threat to public order, and for this reason the élus were expected
to work in close collaboration with the governor and the intendant.
To levy the militia, the élus first divided up the number of men required
amongst the various communities of the province using the taille rolls as
the basis for their calculations.131 Orders were then sent to the provincial
receivers, mayors, retired military officers and, after 1701, to the intendant’s
subdelegates, who presided over the drawing of lots. The new recruits
were then gathered together and marched off to Dijon for inspection by
the intendant before being transferred to the tender care of their officers.
Desertion between the drawing of lots and arrival at Dijon was a con-
stant problem, and the élus regularly issued orders for the imprisonment or
punishment of those that were subsequently recaptured.132 Nor were angry
mothers exempt from the wrath of the élus. A woman known only as ‘the
wife of Pierre Caloux’ was arrested and imprisoned in Chalon-sur-Saône
127 BMD MS 2239, fol. 206, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, May 1687.
128 ADCO C 3160, fols. 310–14.
129 A. Martin, Les milices provinciales en Bourgogne, 1688–1791 (Dijon, 1929), is the essential introduction
to the militia in Burgundy.
130 See chapter 12 and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 183–4.
131 ADCO C 3134, fols. 3–20, contains the details of the levy carried out in 1689.
132 ADCO C 3353, fol. 83, Barbezieux to the élus, 14 April 1695; C 3141, fols. 99–100, 122–3, the élus to
Barbezieux, 6 and 23 February 1696.
for rebellion, after refusing to let her son leave once he had drawn a short
straw.133
In an effort to appease the aggrieved peasantry, the élus attempted, in
1690, to make service in the militia more palatable by paying four sols per
day rather than two as laid down in the royal ordinances.134 The marquis
de Louvois vetoed their initiative. The élus then changed tack and began to
condone the no less illegal practice of buying a militiaman. Communities
or groups of young men were given the option of paying for a volunteer
who would serve on their behalf. At the outbreak of the War of the Spanish
Succession, the secretary of state for war, Michel Chamillart, tried to stamp
out the practice.135 The élus ignored him completely, and they actually
encouraged their commissioners to employ the method when raising the
militia in the province.136 As the war dragged on, the need for fresh troops
ensured that the minister was constantly nagging the élus about delays in
conscripting the troops.137 They predictably excused their conduct by refer-
ring to the exhausted state of the province, as part of a persistent campaign
to reduce its contribution to the levy. An increase in the numbers raised
in 1703 provoked the Estates of that year to remonstrate that Burgundy
was providing twice the number of recruits of neighbouring provinces, and
both the élus and the governor repeated the charge.138 Their pleas fell on
deaf ears, but in 1708 the ministry suddenly changed its tactics. In a letter to
the élus, the duc de Bourbon announced that the province had been given
‘the option of supplying men for the militia, or of paying 100 livres for
each one that they must raise’, and that he thought it was better to pay the
money.139 The élus were as quick to strike a bargain as they were reluctant
to fund it, and in November 1709 the new minister of war, Daniel François
Voysin, was complaining about the late payment of this rather curious ‘buy
out’.140
It is difficult to offer a balanced assessment of the organisation of the
militia in Burgundy. Most of the complaints directed at the provincial
administration from above were about delays in mustering sufficient num-
bers of adequate men. Such grumbling should not, however, be allowed to
135 ADCO C 3353, fol. 136, Chamillart to the élus, March 1701.
136 ADCO C 3603, ‘Mémoire pour messieurs les commissaires’.
137 ADCO C 3148, fol. 34, Chamillart to the élus, 27 December 1702, and C 3353, fol. 137, the élus to
the états particulier of Charolles, 5 March 1707.
138 See: ADCO C 3330, fol. 104; and C 3149, fol. 290, the élus to Chamillart, 8 March 1704; ibid.,
fols. 261–3, Henri-Jules to the élus, 24 February 1704.
139 ADCO C 3153, fol. 832, Louis III de Bourbon to the élus, November 1708.
140 ADCO C 3353, fol. 153, Voysin to the élus, 26 November 1709.
disguise the existence of a more general pattern of cooperation with the
crown. The correspondence of the élus with the war minister, governor or
intendant was dominated by the practical issues associated with conscrip-
tion. Was a particular profession exempt? Should married men be included?
Was a village with a serving militiaman, or one who had been killed in ac-
tion, exempt from the next round of recruitment?141 These, and many other,
questions occupied the élus in the late autumn and early spring when the
militia was assembled, or disbanded, and the registers of the chamber con-
vey an impression of orderly routine. Events on the ground were usually
more chaotic. The sheer unpopularity of the militia made it hard to find
suitable recruits. As a result, the élus ignored explicit warnings from the
secretary of state for war, and continued to allow communities to pay for
a volunteer. If this was an abuse, it was at least one that worked to the
advantage of the local population.
e co n o m i c d eve lo p m e n t
Not for nothing has the seventeenth century been described as the age
of iron, and for much of the period the provincial administration was
preoccupied by the need to find men and money. Yet the Estates were
also charged with promoting the economic well-being of the province.
In his study of Languedoc, Beik has placed great emphasis upon the role
of the construction of the Canal du Midi in creating a reciprocal bond
between local elites and the crown.142 After initial hesitation, the Estates
of Languedoc were gradually won over to the scheme, and, if few shared
the commercial motives that inspired Colbert and Paul-Pierre Riquet who
devised and built it, most could enjoy the ‘prestige of using public monies
for monuments to their joint glory’.143
Burgundy appeared to present fertile ground for a similar venture, and
since the time of the cardinal de Richelieu there had been talk of con-
structing a canal to link the rivers Saône and Loire. At the Estates of 1665,
Colbert revived the project, proposing a canal that would connect the two
waterways via the Dheune and Bourbince.144 The plan was perfectly feasible
and over a century later something very similar would be realised, but the
Estates proved wary, possibly because it was not connected to traditional
trade routes.145 They were anxious that the king contribute towards the
141 For these, and other, examples, see: ADCO C 3137, fols. 93–4; C 3148, fols. 605–6.
142 Beik, Absolutism and society, pp. 291–7. 143 Ibid., p. 297.
144 ADCO C 2997, fols. 59–60, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 185–7.
145 Depping, Correspondance, I, pp. 441, Bouchu to Colbert, 24 May 1665.
cost, and seemed more interested in the issue of compensation for those
affected by the construction work than the project itself. The governor
nevertheless succeeded in prising the huge sum of 600,000 livres from the
assembly. Work was begun, albeit to no great effect and within a few years
the project collapsed, largely as a result of the absence of local leadership
or initiative.146 The idea for the canal had come from Colbert, and he had
no one with the genius of Riquet to direct operations in Burgundy. It was
a classic example of the limitations on the power of even the most able
minister.
Much the same could be said of Colbert’s efforts to stimulate inter-
est in manufacturing. At the assembly of 1668, the governor’s instructions
asked for an annual sum of 40,000–50,000 livres to be set aside for that
purpose.147 The parsimonious Estates refused to offer more than 30,000
livres, but Colbert was not easily disheartened. He summoned the élus,
together with the governor, in October 1671, to discuss where the money
was to be spent.148 A substantial sum of 20,000 livres was directed towards
an existing factory at Seignelay, on Colbert’s own estates, which was pro-
ducing ‘woollens’, while other grants were distributed to assist individual
entrepreneurs to start production. Finally, it was agreed that a bounty would
be paid to skilled workers who settled in the province and married a local
girl, with the happy couple receiving a bonus on the birth of their first
child.
Such measures were typical of a mercantilist age, and with its illustrious
patron the factory at Seignelay initially prospered.149 Elsewhere the returns
on the Estates’ investment were less reassuring. When the bishop of Autun
and the comte d’Espinac decided to make a tour of the enterprises subsidised
by the Estates in September 1673 they received a nasty shock.150 On arriving
at one site near Auxerre, where they expected to find a ‘textile factory’ that
had already received 8,000 livres of an intended 16,000 livres of subsidy, ‘we
discovered neither buildings nor artisans, only two men who claimed to be
from Picardy’. It is unlikely that the money was returned. To their credit,
the élus did at least try to keep a check on where the province’s money
was spent, and d’Espinac, in particular, visited several other sites where
economic activity was in progress.151 However, the overall value of these

147 ADCO C 2997, fol. 99. 148 ADCO C 3718.
149 A. Leroux, ‘Les industries textiles dans la Bourgogne d’ancien régime’, Annales de Bourgogne
43 (1971), 5–33, 10.
150 ADCO C 3718, deliberation of 29 September 1673.
151 Ibid., deliberations of 22 June 1672 (Arnay-le-Duc), and 7 July 1672 (Autun).
schemes was limited. As Colbert would discover elsewhere, new commercial
ventures would best take root in regions where a mercantile community
already existed. Attempting to graft them on to regions such as Burgundy,
which generally lacked those human resources, was liable to be expensive
and ultimately disappointing. Even projects of a narrower scope ran into
these same hurdles. In 1682, the crown obliged the Estates to vote 6,000
livres to pay for the establishment of a royal stud (haras) in the province.152
By 1688, the cost had risen to 20,000 livres for the triennalité, which the
Estates dutifully paid throughout the remainder of the reign. Yet there is
no evidence that the stud achieved its objective of improving the quality of
provincial bloodstock, or of stimulating interest amongst the population.
What really engaged the attention of the Estates were matters pertaining
to existing economic interests. Needless to say, the wine trade loomed par-
ticularly large in this respect, as did issues affecting the transport of grain or
other goods via the Saône. Probably the greatest threat to wine production
came from the kingdom’s burdensome system of indirect taxation. The
Estates stoutly defended the provincial privilege of exemption from the
aides, but all wine exported elsewhere in France, or to international desti-
nations, was subject to duties incurred on its route. The remonstrances of
the Estates were thus peppered with demands for reductions or exemptions
from the octrois in Champagne (on the road to Paris or the Low Countries),
or at Lyon (the gateway to the Midi and Italy).153
As quality was already one of the hallmarks of Burgundian viticulture,
the Estates also petitioned for royal edicts permitting the ‘uprooting’ of
vines planted in areas where they had not previously been cultivated.154
Such measures had the dual advantage of protecting quality, while reducing
the volume available for sale, which in turn kept prices high. While wine
was emblematic of Burgundy’s economy, grain was no less important for
the plains of the Saône and the Auxois. As a net exporter of grain, the
province relied upon the river to act as the highway taking its surplus south.
However, as the barges passed down the Saône they frequently fell foul of
the municipal authorities in Lyon, who forced Burgundian merchants to
wait in the city for three days to await local buyers.155 The aim was to oblige
them to sell cheaply, and even if the merchants held firm they could still be
obliged to sell if the city’s magistrates used the pretext of an emergency. The
152 ADCO C 2999, fol. 24, and Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. 195.
153 ADCO C 2982, fols., 19–21, 22, 259.
154 Ibid., fol. 66. In 1680, they requested that this edict apply to all vines planted in the course of the
previous eighteen years.
155 Monahan, Year of sorrows, pp. 25–6, Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 212–13.
Estates regularly protested, persuading the crown to issue arrêts du conseil
forbidding the practice, unfortunately they cut little ice in Lyon.156
Within the limits of the possible, the Estates attempted to protect the
traditional economic interests of the province, and some of their campaigns
were of genuine utility. Despite their historic importance neither Autun nor
Dijon possessed a university, and it was not until the definitive conquest of
Franche-Comté in 1678 that Dole became a trouble-free alternative. The
Estates called immediately for its university to be raised to the standard of
those elsewhere in the kingdom.157 A favourable reply inspired the conseils
des états to move a step further in their remarques of 1688, when they
called for a university to be established in Dijon.158 Their demand struck
a chord with the deputies and the request was repeated regularly until
the end of the reign. Persistence eventually brought its reward, and in
1718 Dijon was endowed with a faculty of law, marking the birth of the
city’s university. With the Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and numerous
other legal institutions within the province it soon proved to be a valuable
acquisition.
fa m i n e
If war was the great scourge of the seventeenth century, famine and plague
were never far behind. The beginnings of the personal reign of Louis XIV
had coincided with the terrible famine of 1661, and during the decade after
1688 the province endured a series of subsistence crises. Burgundy did not
experience a complete harvest failure, but the shortfall was sufficient in
1691, 1693 and 1698 to remove the surplus that in normal years made it
an exporter of grain.159 The pressure on the poorest members of the pop-
ulation was intense. After travelling to the Estates of 1691, the prince de
Condé informed Pontchartrain that ‘I am forced to tell you that I have
found more misery here than I believed’, adding that in ‘the villages on
the road that I took, I did not see a single inhabitant who did not ask me
for alms’.160 Other contemporary witnesses corroborate his story,161 and in
December 1693 the desperate élus claimed that starvation stalked the towns
of the province. They alleged that in Beaune a number of unfortunates had
already died, and when autopsies had been performed they were discovered

159 Monahan, Year of sorrows, pp. 6, 24, and Saint-Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 176–9.
160 AN G7 157, fols 180–1, Condé to Pontchartrain, 4 June 1691.
161 Ibid., fols. 210–13, Combes to Pontchartrain, 19 July 1691.
to be ‘full of grass’.162 Many similar reports could be cited, and even if
the élus had exaggerated the degree of misery to win concessions from the
government there is no doubt that the crisis of the 1690s was real.
The Estates, or in their absence the élus, were not the only institution
concerned by the threat of famine, and the governor, the intendant and
the Parlement and the municipal authorities of Dijon were all expected
to play their part. In a society attuned to every vagary of the agricultural
year, it did not take much to set alarm bells ringing. Thus, on 7 October
1698, the comte de Choiseul-Chevigny, élu of the nobility, informed the
chamber that the harvest had produced less than half of that recorded the
previous year.163 He suggested writing immediately to the governor and
to the bishop of Autun, both of whom were at court, to press them to
intervene with the contrôleur général. In the meantime, the secrétaire des
états, Claude Rigoley, prepared a memoir for the intendant, Ferrand, who
was touring his administrative fief in Bresse, calling for grain exports from
the province to be banned. By 14 October, Choiseul-Chevigny could report
that he had seen the intendant and that the procureur syndic of the Estates
had presented him with the necessary requête demanding the export ban.
The next day, Ferrand issued an ordinance ‘on the requête’ and the doors
for the export of Burgundian grain were closed.164
If the administrative protocol for dealing with a grain shortage was clear,
it was impossible for Burgundy to batten down the hatches completely.
Armies could not be left unfed, and if Lyon was simultaneously stricken by
dearth the crown could not risk leaving a city of 100,000 souls to its fate. In
these circumstances, the élus and the Parlement of Dijon (which was respon-
sible for public order in the city) could find themselves defending local in-
terests against those of Lyon, army quartermasters and even the crown. The
famine of 1693–4, which was one of the worst of the century, illustrated this
point perfectly. During the late autumn of 1692, the élus pleaded with the
governor and the contrôleur général to stop further purchases of grain
that were driving prices skywards.165 The comte de Briord, élu of the nobil-
ity, was sent to Versailles armed with memoranda to distribute in defence
of their cause. According to the élus, Burgundy was threatened by mer-
chants from Lyon who were fraudulently collaborating with the military
162 ADCO C 3138, fols. 458–9, 23 December 1693. The élus wrote a very similar letter to the governor,
Condé, ibid., fol. 458.
163 ADCO C 3143, fols. 227, 298.
164 Ibid., fol. 320. On the protocol involved, see AN G7 158, fol. 359, Ferrand to the contrôleur général,
24 October 1699.
165 ADCO C 3138, fol. 423.
quartermasters, who had permission to draw more grain from the province
to support the army defending the fortress of Pinerolo in Savoy.166
While trying to remain sympathetic, Pontchartrain replied that Lyon
could not be left without supplies, and the poor harvest of 1693 made mat-
ters worse.167 When in December 1693, the minister gave orders for the élus
to provide 90,000 sacks of grain for the royal armies, they replied angrily
that ‘the total exhaustion of this province makes it absolutely impossible’.168
It was in this letter that the élus referred to starvation in Beaune, and their
protests did produce results with the minister agreeing to reduce his de-
mand to 50,000 sacks.169 Faced with a hungry population the response of
the élus was procrastination. First they argued that the province had already
been emptied of grain, and when this failed they contradicted themselves
somewhat by proposing to buy the grain. Pontchartrain eventually allowed
them to purchase one-third of the total, with the remainder being col-
lected by ‘imposition’ on the Burgundian population as a whole. It was
the insistence of the élus which ensured that this extraordinary levy fell on
ecclesiastics, nobles and other members of the privileged elites and not just
the taillables.170
Not that the élus showed any real enthusiasm for collecting the grain.
By March 1694 they had only succeeded in buying 12,800 sacks, while a
further 7,000 had been requisitioned.171 To parry the expected blows from
Versailles, the élus wrote to Pontchartrain describing the allegedly apoca-
lyptical state of the population, especially in the Charolais and Autunois
where:
for at least two months they [the people] live mostly on bracken roots [and] are
gathered in the forests where they steal anything they can find, they [have] set fire
at night to several farms in order that the animals are trapped in the flames and
they can devour their remains.172
As the intendant had requested troops to deal with disturbances around
Charolles in March 1694, there was some truth in these allegations, and dur-
ing the spring of 1694 the crisis reached its height.173 However, Ferrand sub-
sequently accused the élus of negligence in collecting the remaining grain,
earning them a sharp rebuke from both the governor and Pontchartrain.174
166 Ibid., fols. 213–14, the élus to Pontchartrain, 8 August 1693.
167 Ibid., fols. 256–7, Pontchartrain to the élus, 17 August 1693.
168 Ibid., fols. 458–9, the élus to Pontchartrain, 23 December 1693.
169 ADCO C 3139, fols. 97, 117–18, 119, 123–6. This was eventually reduced further to 30,000 sacks.
170 Ibid., fol. 150, Pontchartrain to the élus, 16 February 1694.
171 Ibid., fols. 202–3, the élus to Pontchartrain, 27 March 1694. 172 Ibid.
173 AN G7 158, fols. 354, 357, Ferrand to Pontchartrain, 11 March 1694, and ibid, 28 March 1694.
174 ADCO C 3139, fols 243–4, Henri-Jules to the élus, 15 June 1694.
The élus defended their conduct stoutly, and the quarrel was derived,
as much as anything, from the conflicting roles of those involved. When
presented with explicit orders to assist the army or the authorities in Lyon,
the intendant could not forget that he was a royal nominee whose future
depended, in part, on the goodwill of the ministry. The élus had no such
constraints and they could, and did, put what they believed were the inter-
ests of the province first. As for the governor, he was generally sympathetic
to the élus. When the threat of famine returned in 1698, he was quick to
act. The city authorities in Lyon once again sought to draw grain from the
province, despite the export ban imposed in October of that year.175 As
before, the intendant went along with their demands, providing passports
for grain to be sent down the Saône. Henri-Jules was suspicious, ordering
Rigoley to send agents to compile details of prices in Lyon as well as in the
major markets of Burgundy. He called for haste and had the good sense to
order this to be accomplished in secret, remarking on more than one occa-
sion that ‘it was not fair to die of hunger in Burgundy to ensure abundance
in the city of Lyon’.176
Between them the governor and the élus provided a doughty, if not
impregnable shield against outside interference in time of dearth. When
the last great crisis of the reign arrived in the form of the terrible winter
of 1709 they once again swung into action.177 From 5 January until early
March the kingdom was paralysed by arctic temperatures that saw the
river Saône freeze almost overnight, while the bitter frost killed vines and
an entire crop of winter wheat.178 As the harvest of 1708 had been poor,
panic quickly set in as the prospect of hunger once more appeared on the
horizon. In his study of the crisis, Monahan has revealed how the authorities
in Lyon, aided by the local governor, Villeroy, acted decisively. In addition
to purchasing grain in Provence, the Franche-Comté and even Italy, the
authorities in Lyon turned their attention to Burgundy. Ignoring the angry
protests of the local population, Villeroy at one point in May 1709 sent
troops to move grain down the Saône from Auxonne,179 and only serious
riots in Chalon-sur-Saône in August prevented further shipments.
In the light of the problems experienced during the 1690s, a clash with
Lyon was almost inevitable. However, Monahan suggests that Burgundy
175 BMD MS 2240, fol. 53, Henri-Jules to Rigoley, 13 December 1698.

176 Ibid., 27 November 1698, and C 3144, fol. 298.
177 The works of Lachiver, Les années de misère, pp. 268–369, and Monahan, Year of sorrows, provide
the essential guides to the crisis. Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 193–202, supplies an
introduction to the situation in Burgundy.
178 Monahan, Year of sorrows, pp. 71–8. 179 Ibid., pp. 104–5.
was at a disadvantage for want of adequate protectors.180 It is true that the
venerable governor, Henri-Jules, died in April 1709, and his son, Louis III,
also succumbed in 1710, but the province was not quite as helpless as it might
at first appear. As rumours that troops were to be used to move grain began
to circulate, the élus received alarming reports that the local population
was arming itself to resist.181 After warning the governor, they ordered Jean-
Baptiste Suremain, receiver for the bailliage of Auxonne, to travel down the
river informing the population of their actions in a largely successful bid to
calm the situation. A few weeks later, in early July, the arrival of Louis III
in Dijon to open the Estates provided the opportunity for the adoption of
further measures designed to alleviate the crisis. Agents were despatched to
buy grain and seed corn from provinces less badly affected by the terrible
winter.182 The abbé de Saint-Maurice, who was on a mission to Marseille,
proved particularly enterprising. He discovered that there were abundant
supplies of grain in both North Africa and Italy, but that enemy shipping
made importation hazardous.183 His proposed solution was to ‘arm two
ships to go and fetch grain’. The intrepid abbé’s attempt to add another
footnote to the history of the War of the Spanish Succession was vetoed by
the more pusillanimous élus, who told him to buy rice instead.184
While seeking to import rice and grain, the administration adopted more
novel tactics to redistribute scarce resources, namely by imposing a levy in
kind upon those parts of the province least affected by the crisis.185 Grain
and vegetables were requisitioned from those communities with a surplus
in place of the taille, while the Chalonnais, the Brionnais, the Charolais and
the Morvan received free seed corn, which was distributed by the receivers
of the taille. As for the vegetables, they were sent to the hard-pressed towns
of Autun, Semur-en-Brionnais, Montcenis and Couches ‘to be sold cheaply
in order to help the local inhabitants . . . to survive more comfortably’.186
The money raised from these sales was to be delivered to the treasurer
general, thus helping to make up the shortfall in the taille. As tax collection
had all but collapsed in three of the fifteen bailliages,187 the scheme appears
enlightened, and given the harsh criticism of the provincial administration
by subsequent historians a degree of revisionism seems essential.
Alas, there was a sting in the tail. In May 1710, when the crisis had begun
to abate, the élus received a letter from André Cheval de Fontenay, receiver
180 Ibid., pp. 27, 48–50, 116. 181 ADCO C 3154, fol. 180, d’Arconey to the élus, 18 April 1709.
182 AN G7 162, fol. 281, Louis III to Desmarets, 19 July 1709, and ADCO C 3030, fols. 531–3.
183 ADCO C 3154, fols. 423–5, 516–17. 184 Ibid., fols. 516–17, the élus to Louis III, 25 August 1709.
185 ADCO C 3688, deliberation of 25 September 1709.
186 Ibid., deliberation of 9 December 1709.
187 Saint Jacob Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 195–6.
at Autun, asking what he should do with the stockpiles of unsold vegetables
in the four towns where they had been sent. Only at Autun had they been
purchased in any significant quantities because ‘the same vegetables were
available more cheaply than the price the élus had fixed for those they
had sent’.188 As for the rice, that too had found few takers amongst local
peasants. Of the ‘2,592 pounds of rice that he had received, nearly 2,000
remained and he awaited the orders of the élus’. Not for the last time a
well-intentioned bureaucracy had discovered the power of market forces,
and the vegetables and rice were sold at a loss. Happily for the province,
Burgundian peasants were more experienced in these matters. During the
spring of 1709 they had planted barley to replace their perished wheat and
had reaped a bumper crop. By the autumn of 1709, barley bread was selling
in Lyon like the proverbial hot cakes, undercutting that baked in the city
using expensive Italian flour.189
Previous accounts of the Burgundian administration during the reign
of Louis XIV have been damning in their assessment of an institution
that was allegedly rotten to the core. Real problems undoubtedly existed.
Corruption within the chamber of élus, whether in drawing up tax rolls,
auctioning leases for the octrois or distributing public works contracts was
an almost daily occurrence. The procedures followed by the chamber were
frequently lax, and by drawing upon the criticisms of the alcades and the
correspondence of frustrated ministers it would be relatively easy to produce
more evidence reinforcing this unfavourable verdict. While acknowledging
the many weaknesses of the provincial administration we should, however,
remember that there was another side to the story. Throughout the reign
of Louis XIV, the Estates continued to police the activities of their officers
and useful reforms were implemented.
Yet if the debate is simply reduced to the level of an argument about
whether the Estates and their administration was corrupt and inefficient,
or dedicated and reforming, our understanding of the institution will not
advance very far. One of the principal obstacles to attaining a balanced
judgement is provided by the nature of the documentary record available.
When examined over a long period, the remarques of the alcades or the décrets
of the Estates seem to suggest that little was achieved. Despite reforms, such
as the décret of 1682, regulating the conduct of the chamber of élus, or that
of 1688, policing the administration of public works, the alcades were still
obliged to criticise the élus many years later. For Thomas, this was a sign
of their failure. The problem with such an interpretation derives from the
188 ADCO C 3688, Cheval to the élus, 23 May 1710. 189 Monahan, Year of sorrows, p. 154.
assumption that institutions evolve in a smooth and linear fashion, with
the adoption of new practices and reforms taking the administration on to
a higher plane. In reality, evolution, if that is the right term, was a more
complicated process. Given the structure of the chamber of élus, and the
strategic importance of the representatives of the three orders who changed
with every triennalité, it was necessary to repeat décrets on a regular basis
to ensure that their contents became an established part of administrative
practice. If this did not occur, even the most salutary measure could fall by
the wayside. The remarques of the alcades, or the décrets of the Estates should
not, therefore, be cited as evidence of total failure, but rather a part of the
slow and piecemeal process by which an imperfect, yet vibrant institution
developed. A rounded assessment of the administration of Burgundy in
the harsh climate of the late seventeenth century suggests that something
positive had been achieved, even if an awful lot remained to be done.
chapter 8
The limits of absolutism: crown, governor and

the Estates in the eighteenth century
Historians are in agreement that Louis XIV’s government was more effec-
tive than its predecessors in controlling the French provinces, even if they
continue to quarrel about the means by which it was achieved. In Burgundy,
the crown had been largely content to rely upon the services of the governor
to manage the Estates, and the financial and other demands of the crown
were worked out in consultation with Chantilly. The role of the intendant,
while important, had never been all powerful, and successive incumbents
were obliged to work with the governor or risk dismissal.1 During the early
years of the new reign, the duc de Bourbon continued the family tradition
by jealously guarding his authority in the province, his determination un-
doubtedly redoubled after the failure of his brief spell as Louis XV’s first
minister.2 The premature death of Bourbon in January 1740 threw his
family and the province into consternation. His son, Louis-Joseph, the new
prince de Condé, was a child of four, and the resulting interregnum offered
the crown a golden opportunity to tighten its control over the Estates.
The interim governor, the duc de Saint Aignan, was no more than a
figurehead, who did little beyond presiding at the triennial meetings of the
Estates. The crown was forced to fill the resulting power vacuum, issuing
a string of règlements designed to limit the powers and police the activities
of both the Estates and the élus. No less disturbing for the provincial
authorities was the king’s decision to assume responsibility for appointing
the key officials in the local administration. Finally, in 1754, the intendant,
Joly de Fleury, struck what appeared to be a decisive blow against provincial
independence by purchasing the office of élu du roi.3 He thus acquired a
permanent position within the chamber of élus, and had every reason to
hope that the administration would now do his bidding.
1 The classic example being d’Argouges in 1694, see chapter 3.

2 Campbell, Power and politics, pp. 69–109.
3 Dumont, ‘Élus du roi’, is the essential introduction to this episode.
230
Crown, governor and the Estates in the eighteenth century 231
The death of the duc de Bourbon has, therefore, been seen as a turning
point in the history of the province, marking a sharp decline in the influence
of the Condé, who could no longer treat it as if it were their own personal
fiefdom.4 Burgundy had apparently joined the rest of the kingdom in
bowing beneath the power of the administrative monarchy and its principal
agents, the intendants. Yet when examined in detail, the events of 1740 to
1754 proved to be a swing of a pendulum, rather than a definitive change of
direction. Once the prince de Condé assumed charge of his governorship
in 1754 many of the old practices were reinstated. While never establishing
the complete control over the administration exercised by his father, he
remained one of the principal figures through whom the king controlled
the Estates. If the governor acted as a brake on the centralising ambitions of
the crown, he was ably seconded by the actions of the Estates themselves.
They never accepted the reduction in their powers of appointment and self-
regulation, and in the course of the second half of the eighteenth century
they would fight hard to reverse the decisions taken during the interregnum.
the duc de bourbon

As Burgundy began to recover from the damage inflicted by the wars of
Louis XIV, its inhabitants at least had the satisfaction of knowing that the
new reign promised a bright future for their governor. With Louis XV no
more than a child, power passed to the regency government of the duc
d’Orléans, who was always careful to seek the support of the other princes
and the court grandees. The duc de Bourbon was made a member of the
regency council, and became a firm supporter of the Scottish financier,
John Law. With his insider knowledge of Law’s system he was able to make
millions, neatly avoiding the crash when it came in 1720. Bourbon was
sufficiently grateful to provide the horses and his mistress the carriage,
when the Scotsman fled the kingdom in December of that year.5 When
the regent finally succumbed to his rakish lifestyle and collapsed and died
in December 1723, Bourbon replaced him as the king’s first minister.6
Historians have been almost unanimous in their harsh condemnation of
his rule. ‘Talentless’,7 of ‘very limited capacity’, ‘ugly, blind in one eye,
4 The argument is common to the works of Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 165–75; Bordes,
L’administration provinciale, pp. 32–3; and Natcheson, ‘Absentee government’.
5 J. H. Shennan, Philippe duke of Orléans, regent of France, 1715–1723 (London, 1979), pp. 115–16.
6 The following is drawn from Campbell, Power and politics, pp. 69–92.
7 Shennan, Orléans, pp. 37, 145.
bandy-legged, and stupid’8 are some examples of the scorn heaped upon the
duc, who was allegedly dependent on the advice of his equally unpopular
mistress, Mme de Prie. Many of these critics have underestimated the
difficulties facing Bourbon, who had a relatively weak position at court
and little time to acquire the experience needed to govern.9 Ultimately he
was worsted by a far more wily political operator, the cardinal de Fleury,
who was able to use his immense credit with the king to bring about the
duc’s disgrace in December 1725.
If Bourbon’s ambitions to play a role on the national political stage
were over, he could at least seek consolation in his family’s Burgundian
powerbase. Until his death he would prove to be a conscientious and able
governor, revealing an attention to detail worthy of his grandfather, Henri-
Jules. It was Bourbon who used his political credit to facilitate the merger
of the comté of Bar-sur-Seine, bringing it under the administrative control
of the chamber of élus, a project that had been under consideration since at
least 1677.10 He was also prepared to defend the privileges of the Estates,11
and to fulfil the traditional role of intermediary with the crown, especially
on matters of taxation.12 Finally, he was determined to maintain his own
authority, and the rights of appointment that went with it. As we have
seen, he ordered his trusted adviser, the treasurer general, Chartraire de
Montigny, to prepare the famous ‘Devil’s register’ containing information
about potential candidates for preferment.13 He was no less meticulous
in examining the conduct of the administration. The élu du roi, Richard,
discovered this to his cost in January 1717 when he acted without consulting
the other members of the chamber. The duc informed him sternly that:
you should know that all of the affairs of the province must pass by the canal of
the élus of the three orders, who alone are the guardians of the authority of the
Estates, and I can only strongly disapprove of the conduct of those who do not
respect this right and practice.14
If Bourbon was determined to uphold the rights of the Estates and their élus,
he was, if anything, even more jealous of his own authority. In November
1732, he was mortified to hear that the élus had failed to make a payment
8 The verdicts of A. M. Wilson and Alfred Cobban respectively cited in Campbell, Power and politics,
p. 70.
9 Campbell offers by far the most sympathetic and convincing study of his ministry, Power and politics,
pp. 69–109.
10 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 129–30.
11 A good example is provided by the quarrel over the right of the Estates to appoint and dismiss the
receivers of the taille, ADCO C 3432–3, and C 3415.
12 See chapter 10. 13 See chapter 4.
14 BMC AC GB 31, fol. 1, duc de Bourbon to Richard, 3 January 1717.
he had explicitly authorised. A firm letter was quickly despatched to the
élu of the clergy, Moreau, in which the governor declared:
when I make my intentions known to you as clearly and as positively as I have on
this occasion, it is for me to answer to the king for my actions and for you others
to execute my orders without fearing to be disavowed by the Estates who, by the
affection that they have for me and the care they know I have for their interests,
will always find pleasure and honour to follow where I shall lead.15
His letter reveals much about the relationship between the governor and
the Estates, and with the mayors and other Burgundian officials over whom
he held sway.
t h e ‘ag e o f a b s o lu t i s m ’
Having lived under the unbroken rule of the Condé since the beginning
of Louis XIV’s personal rule, it is easy to imagine the shock caused by the
news of the duc de Bourbon’s death on 27 January 1740.16 There were ru-
mours that the family would lose control of the province, but Louis XV
was quick to announce that Bourbon’s young son, Louis-Joseph, would in-
herit his father’s position once he came of age. If the governorship had
been passed to his uncle, the comte de Charolais, during the interim
as the family demanded, then their influence in Burgundy would have
been undiminished.17 Unfortunately, the comte was a mentally unstable,
violent character who was not thought fit to be left in charge of a pays
d’états.18 Instead, Paul-Hippolyte de Beauvilliers, duc de Saint-Aignan, the
French ambassador in Rome, was named governor. According to the mar-
quis d’Argenson, he received the office in order to restore the lamentable
state of his personal finances.19 It is also likely that Fleury had used the
governorship as a way of sweetening the bitter pill of recall from Rome,
as the two events overlapped in a way that suggests more than just coinci-
dence. Surprisingly, Saint-Aignan was offered the chance to install himself
in Dijon, where the role of resident governor would undoubtedly have been
a significant one.20 He rejected the idea, and throughout the fourteen years
of his tenure he treated his office as nothing more than a lucrative sinecure.
15 BMC AC GB 33, fols. 252–3, Bourbon to abbé Moreau, 26 November 1732.

16 The best account of the crisis of 1740 is Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 165–72.
17 Charolais tried to exchange the government of Burgundy for that of Touraine which he held in his
own right, ibid., p. 168.
18 Smith claims that he was ‘a violent man who could not be entrusted with the supervision of a pays
d’états’.
19 D’Argenson, Journal, ii, pp. 399–404. 20 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 167–8.
The Estates were thus robbed of their greatest protector, and their rel-
ative weakness when confronted by a determined ministry would soon be
brought home in earnest. Within days of Bourbon’s death the élus received
a letter from the secretary of state, the comte de Saint-Florentin summon-
ing them to Paris.21 The élus, unaccustomed to such peremptory treatment
from the minister, delayed their departure on the pretext of urgent busi-
ness in Dijon. However, they could not resist the new wind blowing from
Versailles for long. From 1740 until his retirement in 1775, Saint-Florentin
became a key figure in the relationship between the Estates. His remarkable
political longevity was a key factor in the strengthening of central control,
and henceforth the élus were obliged to correspond directly with him on
nearly all matters pertaining to the local administration.
More worrying from the point of view of the Estates was the government’s
determination to interfere in their internal affairs. As the members gathered
for the assembly of June 1742, Saint-Florentin became convinced that a
conspiracy was afoot. In a stern letter to the alcades he warned that:
the king has been surprised to learn that you have altered the practice of your
predecessors by admitting a clerk of the Estates into the chamber where you work,
this innovation, while unimportant in itself, implies nevertheless an element of
mystery which gives His Majesty cause to suspect that you wish to innovate in
your remarques in ways that are unrelated to your mission, or are perhaps even
contrary to the interests of His Majesty and to the tranquillity of the Estates.22
The minister went on to name Claude Sauvage, one of the alcades of the
third estate, as the ringleader, concluding menacingly that:
truth should dictate your observations, [but] it is no less reasonable that there
should be neither malignancy not bitterness [in your remarques], if they cause the
least trouble, His Majesty proposes to examine them himself and they could serve
against those of you who are the authors.
The ministry was clearly nervous that the death of the duc de Bourbon
would weaken its control over the assembly, and the remarques of the alcades
were one obvious channel through which opposition could be directed.
Rather than take any risks, the new governor and the intendant took the
decision to intervene, persuading the alcades to ‘modify part of the preamble
as well as article[s] 1, 13 and the last [one] and to suppress entirely articles
3.5.6.7.8.9.10.14.16.17.18.19.20.21.23.25.26.30.31 et 33’.23
21 ADCO C 3360, fol. 179, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 9 February 1740.

22 ADCO C 3304, fols. 3–4, ‘copie de la lettre de M. le comte de Saint-Florentin à messieurs les alcades,
26 May 1742’.
23 ADCO C 3304, fol. 2.
Such draconian measures indicate the government’s determination to
avoid trouble at the Estates, and how serious it perceived the threat to
be. The remarques themselves were certainly outspoken.24 The alcades had
been incensed by the refusal of the permanent officials to provide them with
the ‘crucial evidence of the administration of the last triennalité’.25 It was
their subsequent decision to prepare a protest that caused Saint-Florentin
to panic, and it presumably accounts for the hypersensitive reaction of
Saint-Aignan and the intendant. They were worried that the complaints of
the alcades would inspire the Estates to take a closer look at the provincial
administration, and it is true that a number of the censored articles could
be interpreted in that sense. Amongst their principal targets were the ‘grati-
fications’ and pensions awarded by the Estates at a time when the ‘province
is overburdened with taxes’.26 They also called for a tighter control of the
province’s officials, especially in relation to the awarding of public works
contracts and the leases for the collection of the salt tax (crues). Finally,
they proposed a number of potentially controversial reforms, notably that
‘it would be appropriate to issue a décret granting the treasurer general a
fixed annual sum in place of so many gages, salaries, costs and rights of
receipt and remittance’.27
These were long and detailed remarques, and they certainly had the po-
tential to stir the Estates. Yet, when looked at from a long-term perspective,
they were hardly unique, and the alcades had a distinguished record of crit-
icising the administration. In the particularly sensitive context of 1742, the
minister and the king’s representatives in Dijon decided to take no chances,
and the assembly passed off without serious incident.28 Saint-Florentin had
learnt from the experience, and before the next meeting of the Estates he
acted to reinforce his own authority. In a letter sent to the alcades in January
1745, he ordered them to keep proper records and a formal register of their
proceedings, adding that they were also to send their remarques to him in
order that ‘I can, after taking his orders [the king’s], send them back to you
before your final meetings prior to the Estates, and [the king] expects that
the same procedure shall be followed in the future by all those who succeed
you in the functions of alcades’.29
24 Ibid., fols. 7–82. In the register, ibid., fol. 2, is written ‘ce mémoire a été donné par le comte de
Brancion qui était un des alcades de la noblesse’.
25 Ibid., fols. 10–11. 26 Ibid., fols. 61–2. 27 Ibid., fol. 79–90.
28 ADCO C 3004, fol. 16, and C 3044, fols. 104–5. The only real crisis resulted from the increase in
the amount paid in ‘dons et gratifications’, which in itself helps to explain why some of the alcades
remarques were unwelcome The incident is examined in greater detail in chapter 3.
29 ADCO C 3302, Saint Florentin to the alcades, 6 January 1745.
Not content with attempting to muzzle the alcades, Saint-Florentin was
busily interfering in the organisation of the Estates, removing the arms
of Condé from the great hall and regulating the ceremonial for the new
governor.30 More importantly, the ministry was also planning an assault
on the prerogatives of the Estates and the authority of the élus. In Septem-
ber 1742, the new élus received some very unwelcome news from Saint-
Florentin, who informed them that in future not only their own positions,
but also those of the treasurer general, secrétaires des états, procureur syndics
and receivers would be filled by the king.31 Only the mayors, the provin-
cial engineer, the architect and the avocat au conseil would continue to be
chosen by the Estates.
These changes were incorporated in a règlement of 14 May 1742 which
dealt a severe blow to both the Condé, who had previously been almost
solely responsible for filling these offices, and the Estates which had ratified
their choice. Such a decision would have been inconceivable during the
lifetime of the duc de Bourbon, and without their protector the élus were
almost helpless. The Estates were not due to meet again until 1745, and the
crown was in no mood to tolerate opposition. When the élus decided to
await the formal opening of their chamber in November 1742 before making
an official response, Saint-Florentin was quick to issue a reprimand. In an
uncompromising missive he declared that:
His Majesty has been surprised to learn that you intend to deliberate at your next
assembly on the precise orders contained in these letters, and he has ordered me
to explain once again his intentions about which he does not expect to hear any
remonstrances.32
In the age of Fontenoy and of Louis le Bien-Aimé resistance seemed point-
less, and the élus meekly complied.33
It was a peaceful revolution, and one that seemed to mark a fundamental
change in the relationship between the crown and the Estates. Since 1660,
successive governors had controlled key appointments to both the chamber
of élus and the provincial administration and that power had, in theory, now
been lost. It is true that after 1754, the prince de Condé would regain de facto,
if not de jure, control of many of these offices,34 but his patronage was no
longer as all encompassing as before. The provincial receivers, in particular,
continued to be nominated by the crown, and it became a burning ambition
of the Estates to recover complete authority over these vital officers.
31 ADCO C 3360, fol. 225, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 22 September 1742.
32 Ibid ., fol. 225, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 5 November 1742.
33 Ibid ., fol. 227, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 15 November 1742. 34 See chapters 4 and 5.
The next stage in the royal assault upon provincial independence was
to regulate the composition and organisation of the administration. Before
1740, it was the Estates themselves who policed the chamber of the élus
by issuing décrets, but in the course of 1743 Saint-Florentin announced
the king’s intention to legislate on these matters himself.35 After consult-
ing with the chamber, Louis XV issued an arrêt du conseil, dated 9 April
1744, in the form of a règlement for the chamber of élus.36 It set out the
rights and powers of the respective officers, and, although it was little
more than a formal statement of existing practice, the fact that it was the
king, rather than the Estates, who was calling the tune was highly signif-
icant. While not challenging the right of the Estates to issue décrets, the
règlement created a precedent that in future might prove difficult to resist.
As a body, the chamber of élus was content to register the règlement with-
out comment or protest, and the only opposition came from the Chambre
des Comptes of Dijon.37 Its officers were angered by article two, which had
stated that only the élu of the clergy, or in his absence the élu of the no-
bility, could preside in the chamber. Despite mobilising a series of ancient
precedents to support their claim to share the honour, their protest was
rejected.38
By issuing the règlements of 1742 and 1744, the king had seemingly broken
with the traditional practice of using the Condé as his intermediaries for
controlling the Estates, sharply reducing their patronage power.39 With
Saint Aignan little more than a figurehead, the crown was clearly obliged
to take responsibility for decisions previously taken by the governor. The
crucial question for the Estates was whether or not the king would enforce
the règlements to the letter. The initial signs were not encouraging, and, to
make matters worse, they were simultaneously confronted by an ambitious
intendant, Jean-François Joly de Fleury. He revived an idea first mooted by
Colbert and Bouchu of acquiring the office of élu du roi, and convinced the
contrôleur général, Machault, of the virtues of his scheme, arguing that it
would make ‘the intendance of Burgundy one of the most attractive in the
35 ADCO C 3360, fols. 242–3, Saint-Florentin to the bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône, 6 September 1743.
In this letter, the minister makes it clear that the Estates had already provided memoirs and that the
king wanted to check if further information was likely to be forthcoming.
36 BMD MS 981, fols. 135–7, ‘Arrêt du conseil du roy portant reglement pour la chambre des élus
généraux de Bourgogne du 9 avril 1744’.
37 ADCO C 3055, ‘Observations sur le mémoire de la chambre des comptes de Dijon concernant le
règlement fait pour la chambre des élus en 1744’.
38 ADCO C 3360, fol. 298, Saint-Florentin to the abbé de Cı̂teaux, élu of the clergy, 17 July 1746. It has
to be said that this decision was in accordance with the sentiment of the Estates themselves, which
had long insisted on the need for the presence of their own élus.
39 As we have seen, in chapter 4, the extent of their decline was less extensive than usually thought.
kingdom’.40 When Colbert had proposed the idea in 1668, the Estates were
incensed, quite reasonably suspecting that it was part of a plan to reduce
their powers.41 The Grand Condé had rallied to their side, and, according to
one reliable account, had exchanged sharp words with Colbert, threatening
that:
if this union was accomplished he would very humbly beg His Majesty to agree
that he should never return to Burgundy. M. Colbert responded warmly and [it]
became a serious matter that was discussed before the king.
According to the author of this report, Condé’s recent role in the conquest
of Franche-Comté had reinforced his credit with Louis XIV and the idea
was dropped. Joly de Fleury was sufficiently astute to realise that his revival
of that plan would provoke the hostility of the Estates, and he was obliged
to move stealthily. Rather than reveal his design, he arranged for the local
receveur général des finances, Antoine Carrelet, to buy the office on his behalf
for the imposing sum of 110,000 livres.42 The negotiations dragged on, and
it was not until June 1754 that the transaction was complete, just in time
for the Estates of that year which were due to open in August.
The intendant was delighted, and clearly believed that he was now in a
position to control the chamber of élus and through them the provincial
administration. At first all appeared to go well, and after his entry into the
chamber he wrote ‘everything passed off quietly, they sense that they have
no means to complain. The first flames were hot, but no more will be said
and they will become accustomed to it in the end’.43 Much of the initial
opposition came from the deputies of the Chambre des Comptes, who were
horrified to discover that Joly de Fleury had procured a royal arrêt giving
him precedence over themselves. His intention to take an active role in
the administration was all too clear, and his enhanced status was expressed
at the Estates where he cast off the traditional black robe of a maı̂tre de
requêtes in favour of ‘coloured clothing’ like the governor.44 His confidence
was misplaced, and his hopes of dominating the chamber of élus were soon
dashed.
Through no fault of his own, the timing of the intendant’s coup could
not have been worse. On 28 July 1754, Machault resigned as contrôleur
40 The essential guide to this affair is Dumont, ‘Élu du roi’, pp. 199–200.
41 BMC AC GB 27, fols. 665–7, bishop of Autun to Henri-Jules, 8 February 1689, and attached
‘Mémoire de ce qui se passa en 1668 et de ce qui peut avoir donné occasion à ce qui s’est dit que feu
M. Colbert avoit eu quelque dessein de réunir à l’intendance la charge d’élu du roi en la province
de Bourgogne’.
42 The details of the sale are contained in ADCO C 3059.
43 Cited in Dumont, ‘Élu du roi’, p. 202. 44 Ibid.
général, moving to the politically less sensitive berth of secretary of state for
the marine. A genuine reformer, he was no friend of the provincial estates,
whose privileges and administrative independence clashed with his plans
for a more uniform fiscal administration. His successors were less rigorous,
and Joly de Fleury could not count upon their wholehearted support. A
second, probably decisive blow, was the arrival of the new governor, the
prince de Condé, who made it clear that he was determined to exercise
his family’s traditional role as defender of the Estates. When the new élus
made plans for the voyage of honour at the beginning of 1755, the intendant
demanded the right to accompany them in his capacity as élu du roi.45 The
governor backed the other élus in their protests to the ministry, informing
the new contrôleur général that:
this claim is not only against custom, but it is also contrary to the king’s règlement
of 1744. You tell me, sir, that you have not heard word of this matter. As it might
escape your attention amidst the many affairs of which you are charged, I ask you
to recall it in the event that M. de Fleury makes an approach to you.46
No more was heard of the matter, and the intendant was obliged to remain
in Dijon, while the élus re-established their old links with the governor and
presented their remontrances to the king.
The setback of March 1755 was part of a more general pattern. Without
resorting to drastic measures, the élus, backed by the governor, made it clear
that, within the chamber, Joly de Fleury would be treated as the élu du roi,
and that he could not confuse that position with his authority as intendant.
His hopes of directing the administration were thwarted, and after sapping
his morale the Estates resorted to their tried and tested formula of buying
their way out of difficulty. In a deal negotiated with the ministry, Joly de
Fleury and the local Bureau des Finances, the Estates bought the office of
élu du roi for themselves at the inflated price of 210,000 livres.47 Of that
sum 110,000 livres was to conclude the arrangement between Carrelet and
Joly de Fleury, while the remainder was employed to sweeten the bitter pill
of defeat for the intendant. As a later commentator noted:
the province had first bought this office for just 110,000 livres, but to rid themselves
of M. de Fleury . . . who was suspected of having bought it with the aim of knowing
the resources of the province and of informing the ministry, five contracts of rentes
of 20,000 livres each were created for him.48
45 Ibid., p. 203.
46 Condé to Moreau de Séchelles, March 1755, cited in Dumont, ‘Élu du roi’, p. 203.
47 Ibid., and ADCO C 3059. 48 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 55.
A generous golden handshake was a small price to pay to be rid of unwanted
interference. The Estates were now free to sell the office to the Bureau des
Finances of Dijon for 110,000 livres, and thereafter the office of élu du roi
was held in strict rotation by members of that corps.
The events of the period 1740 to 1754 had demonstrated that, in the
absence of a powerful and sympathetic governor, the Estates were vulnerable
to a determined ministry. Joly de Fleury’s acquisition of the office of élu
du roi represented the high-water mark of royal interference in the internal
affairs of the Estates, coming as it did after the règlements of 1742 and
1744 affecting the appointment of its officers and the procedures of the
administration. Thereafter the prince de Condé and the Estates would
reassert their influence, and a more traditional balance of power would
be restored. Indeed, the second half of the eighteenth century would see
an increasingly confident provincial administration take advantage of the
growing weakness of the crown.
g ove r n o r a n d t h e e s tat e s af te r 1754

Challenges to the interests of the Estates usually resulted from the fiscal
policies of the crown, but during 1763 and 1764 the reforming measures
of the contrôleur général, L’Averdy, brought a new threat. After the defeats
of the Seven Years War, the desire for change was in the air, and the pub-
lication of a variety of reformist texts arguing for wider participation in
government undoubtedly inspired the minister. In a bold move, he sought
to reinvigorate French municipal life by abolishing venal offices and restor-
ing elections.49 His measures were a precursor of later attempts to reform
local government through the establishment of provincial assemblies, and
they were a potentially effective way of restoring the popularity of a monar-
chy vulnerable to accusations of despotic behaviour. Reaction in the towns
was favourable, and when the experiment was later abandoned, largely on
account of L’Averdy’s fall and a change of political direction at Versailles,
the reintroduction of venality proved unpopular.50
49 The most thorough treatment of the subject is M. Bordes, La réforme municipale du contrôleur
général Laverdy et son application 1764–1771 (Toulouse, 1968), although J. Félix, Finances et politique
au siècle des lumières. Le Ministère L’Averdy, 1763–1768 (Paris, 1999), pp. 227–62, and J. Horn, ‘The
limits of centralization: municipal politics in Troyes during the L’Averdy reforms’, French History 9
(1995), 153–79, should also be consulted.
50 Terray, the minister responsible for reversing policy, was a long-standing critic of L’Averdy’s scheme.
Popular reaction is discussed by: Bordes, Réforme municipale, pp. 113, 270; Félix, L’Averdy, pp. 260–1,
and Horn, ‘Troyes’, 178–9.
In Burgundy the situation was very different. When L’Averdy introduced
his measures in the spring of 1764, he ran into fierce opposition from the
local political establishment. Encouraged by the governor and his adviser,
the abbé Terray, the élus prepared a series of memoranda seeking to jus-
tify their claim that the province should be excluded from the reform.51
They argued that the Estates had already paid over five million livres for
the municipal offices in the province, and, presumably aware that such a
defence would not impress the minister, added that it would ‘overturn the
constitution of the Estates’.52 The prince de Condé wrote to L’Averdy in
support of the élus, and the intendant, Amelot, added his weight to the
cause, incurring the wrath of the minister who tried in vain to secure his
removal.53 Only the Parlement of Dijon, which had just spent a year in dis-
grace as a consequence of a quarrel with the élus, was enthusiastic. It called
upon the minister to send the necessary edicts for its approval, presumably
with the aim of embarrassing the élus.54
The origins of Burgundian hostility to the municipal reforms are not hard
to find. Millions had been spent purchasing the offices of mayors because
of their importance to the assemblies of the Estates, and it was the élus,
acting in harmony with the governor, who controlled appointments. The
danger of opposition within the Estates was, therefore, much reduced, and
venality had the additional advantage of providing the élus with a legitimate
excuse for interfering in the administration of the towns.55 If elections
were introduced into Burgundy that control would be lost, and L’Averdy
grew ever more frustrated at the resistance he encountered, particularly
as he was personally willing to make amendments to his legislation to
allay local anxieties.56 His efforts were in vain, and the Estates of 1766
proved impervious to change. During the subsequent voyage of honour
the élus made fresh remonstrances, declaring that the existing system had
provided stability, ‘peace and union’ which elections could never provide.57
Increasingly burdened by a series of political and financial crises, L’Averdy
had the good sense to realise that his reforms had run into the sands of
51 ADCO C 3354, fol. 268, Condé to the élus, 11 December 1764. In his letter, the governor acknowledged
receipt of these memoirs, and expressed his full agreement with them.
52 ADCO C 3362, fols. 188–9, the élus to L’Averdy, 27 November 1764.
53 Félix, L’Averdy, pp. 259–60.
54 The dispute with the élus is examined in chapter 9. The Parlement’s attitude towards the municipal
reforms is discussed by Bordes, Réforme municipale, pp. 147–60.
55 Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 9, 103–14.
56 AN H1 128, dos. 1, fol. 19, Menard de Conichard to Amelot, 30 July 1766. L’Averdy’s first commis
makes it clear that the minister was extremely angry after the Estates of 1766, and that the intendant
was the principal target of his wrath.
57 ADCO C 3332, fols. 81–6, ‘Cahier de remontrances’ of the Estates of 1766.
provincial privilege, and he let them drop. It was not a particularly edifying
tale, but the Estates and their governor had once again demonstrated their
ability to block measures which threatened their interests.
Fighting off external interference in their affairs was not the only concern
of the Estates, and quarrels with the états particuliers were another regular
feature of provincial life. These were usually caused by arguments about the
distribution of the tax burden, and the prospect of ending these disputes by
merging the smaller administrations with those of the Estates of Burgundy
was always tempting. In 1751, the crown sanctioned the absorption of the
comté of Charolles into the duchy, suppressing the local estates on the basis
of their excessive cost and alleged incompetence.58 As the états particuliers
of Bar-sur-Seine had suffered a similar fate in 1721, that left those of the
Mâconnais, the last surviving example of parochial self-government, ex-
tremely vulnerable to the aggrandising ambitions of the élus in Dijon. The
élus were seconded by the intendant, Joly de Fleury, who, in 1756, recom-
mended that the two administrations be merged on the death of the bishop
of Mâcon.59 The willingness of successive bishops to protect the états par-
ticuliers, over which they exercised great influence, proved crucial to their
survival. When the incumbent, Henri-Constance de Lort de Sérignan de
Valras, died in 1763, his successor Gabriel François Moreau moved quickly,
using his credit at court, to block plans for the absorption of the Mâconnais
submitted by their élus in Dijon.60
Both bishops proved to be wily defenders of the local cause, and per-
haps realising that the best means of preserving the états particuliers lay
in strengthening their powers, they launched a number of initiatives that
brought them into conflict with the duchy. In 1756, for example, after the
élus had concluded an abonnement for the two vingtièmes, the états parti-
culiers sent their own deputation to Versailles with the aim of negotiating
a separate deal.61 If the Mâconnais could establish its own right to bargain
about taxation, then its dependence upon the administration of the duchy
would have been much reduced. Moreover, experience taught that an in-
stitution tied into a direct fiscal relationship with the crown need not fear
suppression. To the dismay of the élus in Dijon, a cash-hungry government
58 The états particuliers of the Charolais and the circumstances surrounding their suppression have been
discussed by L. Laroche, ‘Les états particuliers du Charolais’, Mémoires de la Societé pour l’Histoire
du Droit et des Institutions des Anciens Pays Bourguignons, Comtois et Romands 6 (1939), 145–94.
59 AN H1 124, dos. 2, fols. 41–3, Joly de Fleury to Peyrenc de Moras, 13 September 1756.
60 Roussot, Un comté adjacent, pp. 195–6, and Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 204–5.
61 ADCO C 3361, fols. 247–8, Joly de Fleury to the élus, 18 November 1756. As Joly de Fleury was
simultaneously intendant and élu du roi in 1756, he kept the chamber informed of the negotiations.
was happy to take advantage of the offer to contract a second, more lucra-
tive abonnement. With the états particuliers seemingly poised to escape the
tutelage of the duchy, the prince de Condé intervened with the contrôleur
général.62 He brokered a compromise whereby the taxation needed to pay
the abonnement, signed by the representatives of the Mâconnais, could
only be levied ‘on a commission’ issued by the élus of the Estates of
Burgundy.
Here was a good example of the beneficial intervention of the gover-
nor, who had defused a crisis without wounding the prerogatives of either
side. He would have ample opportunity to perfect those skills in the years
to come, as the two administrations bickered about who had the right to
oversee road building in the Mâconnais, the size of their respective contri-
butions to the general tax burden and whether or not the inhabitants of
the comté should contribute to the costs of embellishing the Palais des États
in Dijon.63 By the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI relations between
the two institutions were at an all time low, and the abbé de La Goutte,
élu of the clergy, presented a memoir to the Estates of 1778 entitled Sur la
nécessité de supprimer l’administration particulière du Mâconnais.64 As the
abbé had just presided over what was arguably the most stormy triennalité
of the century, neither the governor, nor the ministry was prepared to lis-
ten to his proposals.65 It was not until 1781 that tempers cooled sufficiently
for negotiations, aimed at resolving outstanding differences, to begin. The
secrétaire des états, Rousselot, met with his counterpart, Girard de Labrély
from the Mâconnais to draft memoranda explaining their respective posi-
tions. These texts served as the basis for a series of conferences held between
representatives of the disputing administrations under the presidency of the
governor in June and July of 1782.66 The resulting treaty, signed by Condé
and rapidly confirmed by an arrêt du conseil of 27 July, put the relations
between the two institutions on a much sounder footing, recognising the
rights of the états particuliers to administer the comté under the overall
direction of the élus of Burgundy.67
62 As can be seen from his correspondence with the élus, ADCO C 3361, fol. 264, Condé to the élus,
8 January 1757, and the letter sent to the governor by Peyrenc de Moras dated 31 December 1756,
ibid., fols. 264–5.
63 For details of these quarrels see: ADCO C 3355, fol. 47, the élus to the intendant, Amelot, 7 September
1767; C 3363, fol. 32, Amelot to the élus, 25 March 1769; C 3363, fols. 153, 158, the élus of Macon to
the élus [of Dijon], 30 December 1772, and the élus [of Dijon] to Condé, 5 January 1773.
64 Roussot, Un comté adjacent, pp. 201–2.
65 La Goutte’s period in office is examined in greater detail below.
66 Roussot, Un comté adjacent, pp. 202–3, and Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, pp. 205–7.
67 Roussot, Un comté adjacent, p. 203.
d ef e n d i n g t h e p re ro g at i ve s of th e e s tat e s
The struggles against L’Averdy’s municipal reforms, or the pretensions of
the états particuliers, were typical of the tenacity with which the Estates
sought to defend their right to police their internal affairs. As we have
seen, the crown had challenged that independence in the early 1740s, but
the reign of Louis XVI would witness a strong counterattack, especially in
regard to the appointment of the province’s financial officers. Before 1740,
the élus, acting in concert with the governor, had appointed the fifteen
receivers of the taille, and they had stoutly defended the principle that they
were commissioners of the Estates and not royal, or venal, officeholders.
When in 1716, the regency government established a Chamber of Justice to
punish those financial officers and tax farmers accused of malpractice dur-
ing the previous reign, it demanded that the Burgundian receivers justify
their conduct.68 The duc de Bourbon led the opposition to the measure,
declaring that the treasurer general and his subordinates ‘do not handle
the taxes of the king only those of the province’.69 On his orders a depu-
tation of élus and permanent officials trekked to Paris, where they argued
successfully that their financial officers were ‘simple commissioners’, sub-
ject to the verification of the alcades of the Estates, not the Chamber of
Justice.70
Keeping the prying eyes of the crown away from details of the local fiscal
system was essential if the Estates were to bargain effectively, and once they
had recovered from the shock of the royal offensive triggered by the death
of the duc de Bourbon they attempted to regain control of their financial
officers. For most of the remainder of the reign of Louis XV, the élus and
the comte de Saint-Florentin worked in comparative harmony. When a
receiver wished to transfer his office, or arrange for the survivance of a son
or close relative, he petitioned the élus, who in turn recommended his case
to the minister.71 Disagreements were comparatively rare, although Saint-
Florentin was not above advancing the interests of his own protégés such
as Daniel Louis Fidel Amand Bocquillon, a newcomer to the province,
whose appointment as receiver of Auxonne in 1763 was entirely due to
68 ADCO C 3163, fol. 132. 69 ADCO C 3162, fol. 194, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 10 June 1716.
70 The details of these and other arguments employed by the deputation are contained in ibid.,
fols. 384–5, 388.
71 Thus in November 1746 the minister agreed that Pierre Seguin de la Motte should be granted the
survivance on the office of his father, the receiver of Dijon, and act for him during his current illness,
ADCO C 3354, fols. 110–11, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 21 November 1746. He also agreed that
Claude Burgat de Taisey should have the survivance on the office of receiver of Chalon which was
held by his father-in-law.
the patronage of the minister.72 Bocquillon proved to be an unfortunate
choice. He used tax receipts to fund his business ventures, notably a scheme
to establish himself as a wine merchant, and by 1778 he was bankrupt.73
His troubles came at a highly opportune moment for the élus who had
just launched a campaign to restore full control over their financial affairs.
The initial catalyst for the affair was provided by the Gouvillier family,
receivers of the taille in the bailliage of Charolles, who had petitioned the
new minister, the former intendant of Burgundy, Amelot, for the survivance
on their office directly, rather than first seeking the approval of the élus.74
When the élus received a letter from the minister in January 1777 informing
them that he had granted the family’s request, they were outraged.75 Instead
of complying, they sent Amelot a copy of a royal declaration of 1752,
which they claimed had overridden the earlier règlement of 1742, giving
‘to the Estates, the nomination and choice of the financial officers of the
province’.76 To underline the seriousness of their intent, they subsequently
sent a second letter presenting the younger Gouvillier for the survivance on
his father’s office, thus emphasising their refusal to recognise the minister’s
original decision.77
As the élus, headed by the abbé de La Goutte, were already engaged in
a series of other quarrels with the ministry, matters rested there. However,
aware that the alcades would probably raise the issue at the Estates, due
in May 1778, the government prepared a series of secret instructions for
the governor, arguing that the declaration of 1752 had given the Estates
rights over the ‘property’ of their receivers, not their appointment.78 Close
examination of the text suggests that matters were not quite as clear cut as the
government maintained, and, at the very least, the precise legal situation was
ambiguous.79 The ministry was nevertheless convinced that the pretensions
of the élus were unfounded, and the governor’s instructions stated clearly
that ‘the intention of His Majesty is that his right of nomination is upheld,
72 The minister had first persuaded the élus to employ Bocquillon in the bureau des vingtièmes, ADCO
C 3361, fol. 254, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 2 December 1756, and he continued to advance his
career thereafter, ADCO C 3362, fols. 135–6, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 31 July 1763, and, especially,
ADCO C 3363, fol. 207, Saint-Florentin to the élus, 28 December 1773.
73 ADCO C 3333, fol. 12, and AN H1 133, dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur les cahiers de Bourgogne’.
74 AN H1 132, dos. 2, fol. 34, ‘Coppie de l’article 4e de l’instruction particulière’. These were part of
the secret instructions drafted for the Estates of 1778.
75 ADCO C 3364, fol. 37, the élus to Amelot, 16 January 1777. 76 Ibid.
77 AN H1 133, dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur les cahiers de Bourgogne’, and ADCO C 3364, fol. 41,
the élus to Amelot, 13 February 1777.
78 AN H1 132, dos. 2, fol. 34, ‘Coppie de l’article 4e de l’instruction particulière’.
79 For two conflicting contemporary assessments, see ADCO 1 F 460, fols. 227–31, and AN H1 133,
dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur les cahiers de Bourgogne’.
it is based upon ancient rights and usage that are anterior to the règlement
of May 1742’. The Estates were unimpressed, and the incoming élus were
instructed to protest during the voyage of honour. Before setting out for
Versailles, they were presented with an ideal opportunity to press their
case when Bocquillon’s business ventures collapsed. The bankruptcy of a
receiver was a rare event, and in the eyes of the élus nothing could better
illustrate the dangers of allowing a ‘foreigner’ to meddle in their financial
affairs.80
They were quick to take advantage. As the survivance on the office was
held by Bocquillon’s son, who was still a minor, they installed his uncle,
Collenot, to act in his stead. The élus then wrote a letter to Amelot informing
him of the fait accompli, reminding him that the Estates had ordered them
to make a protest in due course.81 The stage was now set for the voyage of
honour, and in the remonstrances delivered to Louis XVI the élus described
the right to appoint their financial officers as nothing less than ‘an inherent
right of the provincial constitution’.82 According to their analysis:
the province forms a political body in the state and this corps having the right to
administer itself, under the protection and authority of Your Majesty, its right to
choose its officials, that is essential to any administration, cannot be contested.
The élus backed these general arguments with copious references to the
declaration of 1752 and earlier royal legislation, before concluding with a
reference to Bocquillon, ‘a foreigner who was not, and never would have
been, chosen by the province’.83 These strongly worded remonstrances are
in some ways reminiscent of the language of the parlements which had
spent much of the eighteenth century arguing about their rights in this
way. The provincial estates were generally more reticent, and, in Burgundy
at least, they had rarely felt the need to make extravagant claims on their
own behalf. In the short-term it had little effect, and after consulting with
the intendant the ministry announced that the règlement of 1742 would
stand, and that the king would nominate the province’s fiscal officers as
before.84
When the next vacancy occurred, the élus renewed their campaign.
Ordered by Amelot to install Bernard Mollerat as the new receiver of
Nuits-Saint-Georges they procrastinated for months, eventually attract-
ing the wrath of the minister.85 The élus had no objection to Mollerat, who
80 ADCO C 3333, fol. 12, and AN H1 133, dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur les cahiers de Bourgogne’.
81 ADCO C 3364, fol. 138, the élus to Amelot, 16 December 1778.
82 ADCO C 3333, fol. 7. 83 Ibid., fol. 12. 84 Ibid.
85 ADCO C 3356, fol. 114, Amelot to the élus, 23 April 1780, ibid., fol. 122, 4 September 1780, and
C 3364, fol. 234, Amelot to Rousselot, 12 October 1780.
was an ideal candidate, having married the daughter of his predecessor and
was closely related to Louis Moussier, a future vicomte-mayeur of Dijon.
Instead, their actions were part of the continuing campaign to regain con-
trol of appointments, and when the powerful bishop of Autun, Marbeuf,
finally gave his consent he ordered the secrétaire des états, Rousselot, to add
a clause to the registers stating that they had acted ‘by the express command
of the king’, noting that ‘this formula is in no sense disobedient, [and] will
justify our action in the eyes of the province’.86
The Estates of 1781 matched the defiant mood of the élus, and further
remonstrances were ordered. As before, the protest was boldly written,
and the élus argued that the constitution of the province, recognised by
French kings since the time of Louis XI, was in danger.87 Having raised the
rhetorical stakes, they then offered a telling critique of the règlement of 1742,
arguing that the king had used the term ‘designation’ not ‘nomination’ when
referring to the province’s fiscal officers.88 Having established this seemingly
academic point, they declared that ‘it is clear that in the spirit of this
règlement, designation and accord are purely synonymous’, in other words
that Louis XV had only intended that the élus seek his approval for decisions
affecting the choice of their officers. The truth of these disputes about the
finer points of jurisprudence was frequently in the eyes of the beholder,
but it is true that Saint-Florentin had left the élus considerable leeway
in these matters. The ministry was in no mood for further dispute, and
promptly conceded the point. Henceforth the receivers would be chosen
by the Estates on condition that the élus asked ‘His Majesty for his accord’
before the appointee fulfilled any official functions.89
Although the king made no concessions relative to the office of treasurer
general, the seemingly untouchable status of the Chartraire family meant
that the Estates could celebrate an important victory. When a receivership
next fell vacant, the élus proudly despatched letters to both the minister and
the governor informing them of their choice.90 There could be no better
illustration of the new situation than the sight of the baron de Breteuil,
the new minister of the maison du roi, writing to the élus in February 1784
asking them to consider one of his protégés for a receivership.91 In their
reply, they made it clear that they already had their eyes on a local man,
and that if he refused ‘the prince de Condé has made it known to us that
86 ADCO C 3364, fol. 236, the bishop of Autun to Rousselot, 10 November 1780.
87 ADCO C 3334, fols. 7–8. 88 Ibid., fols. 8–9.
89 Ibid., fol. 15. 90 ADCO C 3365, fol. 83.
91 The élus refer to his request in their reply ADCO C 3366, fol. 36, the élus to Breteuil, 18 February
1784.
it would please him if we named a person for whom His Serene Highness
wishes to obtain it’. The old hierarchy was firmly back in place. Indeed,
when the alcades considered the events of the triennalité in their remarques
presented in 1784, they rejoiced not only at the success with the receivers,
but also in the fact that the king had approved the candidates suggested by
the élus for other positions within the administration.92 At the Estates of
1787, the alcades took the logical next step declaring that:
it would be desirable for the good of the administration that the motives of justice
and equity that have determined His Majesty during the last triennalité to restore
to the Estates the right to nominate their fiscal officers could engage him to return
as well [the right to nominate] their other officers that he reserved by his règlement
of 1742.93
Had the revolution not intervened, it seems likely that the Estates would
have continued to chip away at the increasingly threadbare règlement of
1742, eventually regaining complete control over the appointment of their
officers.
The Estates had thus proved to be remarkably adept, both at resisting
innovations such as L’Averdy’s municipal reforms and unwanted intrusions
into their affairs like the règlement of 1742. They achieved their aims through
dogged persistence, with the remarques of the alcades, the décrets of the
Estates and the remonstrances and other protests drafted by the élus all
contributing. After 1754, they had the further advantage of being able to
count upon a governor, who maintained the family tradition of protecting
the privileges of the Estates. Finally, they were able to capitalise upon the
changing political climate as the government became more sympathetic to
the idea of ceding powers and responsibilities back to the provinces.
th e a b b é de l a g o u t t e a n d t h e l i m i ts o f prov in c ia l
i n d e pe n d e n c e
That transformation was achieved in a generally peaceful manner, with
crown, governor and the Estates working in apparent harmony, but the
reign of Louis XVI produced the first signs of strain. In May 1775, the
abbé Antoine de La Goutte was chosen as élu of the clergy. A member
of a local family of the robe nobility, he was a man of some charisma
determined to implement what he believed were necessary reforms.94 He

94 His opponents acknowledged his drive and commitment, even if they rejected his methods, see, for
example, ADCO C 3350, ‘Motifs des protestations du 26 Février 1777’.
was seconded by Jacques François Damas, marquis d’Antigny, élu of the
nobility, and the mayor of Beaune, Jean-François Maufoux, élu of the third
estate. La Goutte’s leadership subsequently became the focus of controversy,
and his critics alleged that he had overawed his fellow representatives of the
Estates.95 It undoubtedly suited the interests of those opposed to reform
to depict the abbé as a quixotic figure who had succeeded in manipulating
the chamber. It is true that little is known about d’Antigny, beyond the fact
that he was a member of a distinguished Burgundian noble house and a
serving military officer. He may, therefore, have been ill-informed about the
provincial administration. No such claims could be made about Maufoux.
He was a highly respected mayor of Beaune, and a long-serving subdelegate
of the intendant. Both d’Antigny and Maufoux proved to be sympathetic
to the ideas of La Goutte, and it was their votes within the chamber of élus
that enabled him to implement his projects.
The plans of La Goutte and his allies fell into three broad categories.
Firstly, they intended to root out abuse in the tax system by ending the
inequalities that so favoured the privileged classes. Secondly, they were
determined to reduce the power of the treasurer general and to force the
provincial receivers to obey the letter of their commissions. Finally, they
planned a campaign of spending cuts which they hoped would reduce the
burden of the taille. The campaign began in earnest in the winter of 1775–6
during the first official working session of the new triennalité. Within
days, Mairetet de Thorey, who was following events in Dijon closely, wrote
that ‘the current Estates [read élus] are doing everything for themselves,
the treasurer general and the secrétaires [des états] who were previously
everything, dare not open their mouths and are in their place’.96 Chartraire
de Montigny bore the brunt of the assault, and it was rumoured that he left
the chamber in tears after one particularly stormy session. The tense state
of relations between the élus and their permanent officials was revealed by
their quarrel over the choice of a new receiver of the vingtièmes for the city
of Dijon. On 19 November 1775, the prince de Condé wrote to the élus in
support of a request from Chartraire de Montigny to be permitted to make
the appointment.97 The governor was aware that there had been a dispute
about the post, and his letter was intended to calm tempers in Dijon. He
concluded: ‘I believe that you have sufficient confidence in M. de Montigny
95 ADCO C 3350, ‘Motifs des protestations’.

96 ADCO E 1245, undated. Mairetet de Thorey was in regular correspondence with his mother. This
letter refers to the quarrel with the governor over the appointment of the controllers of the vingtièmes
and was almost certainly written in November 1775.
97 ADCO C 3434, Condé to the élus, 19 November 1775.
not to doubt his respect for you at anytime, and I am also persuaded that
your intention is not to deprive him of rights that are legitimately attributed
to his place’.
The élus replied on 25 November with a strongly worded letter of their
own, rejecting Chartraire de Montigny’s claims and arguing that they pos-
sessed the right of appointment.98 In an effort to resolve the disagreement,
the prince devised a seemingly ingenious solution of leaving the disputed
place vacant, while transferring the relevant duties to the collector of the
taille, which, he believed, was the practice elsewhere.99 It is easy to imagine
his surprise when a few days later he received a message from the élus inform-
ing him that ‘we see with regret, monseigneur, that in these facts [behind
his decision] Your Serene Highness has been deceived’.100 Not content with
criticising the basis on which the prince had made his decision, they con-
tinued by casting doubt on its motives describing them as ‘neither more
sincere nor more well founded than the means and the facts first employed
by M. de Montigny’. The élus clearly believed that the governor was being
manipulated by the treasurer general, adding that because he had no right
to participate in the choice of receiver of the vingtièmes, his aim was ‘to
mortify the administration, [and] to stop the chamber from exercising the
rights belonging to it’. Their letter offers a glimpse of the anger and tensions
in Dijon, but in assuming that the governor was a puppet of the treasurer
general the élus had committed a grave error.
In his reply, an outraged Condé revealed that the project of abolishing
the post of collector of the vingtièmes was his own, and in aggrieved tones
he declared:
I am completely astonished that you imagine me capable of other motives than
the good of the province; you are the first élus who have so suspected me. No,
sirs, I have not been deceived; Burgundy is too dear to me not to examine its
affairs myself; personal interests are nothing to me, and it is to be wished that
everyone thought as I do; if I could, I would willingly multiply the rights of the
administration at the expense of my own; it is a justice that the Estates will render
me, if their representatives refuse it.101
The horror of the élus when they discovered their error is easy to imagine,
and a cringing apology was soon heading for Chantilly.102 It was too late, the
damage had been done, and when the élus subsequently found themselves
in trouble with the ministry they could not count on the usually steadfast
support of the governor.
98 Ibid ., the élus to Condé, 25 November 1775.
99 Ibid ., Condé to the élus, 6 December 1775. 100 Ibid., the élus to Condé, 12 December 1775.
101 Ibid ., Condé to the élus, 15 December 1775. 102 Ibid., the élus to Condé, 20 December 1775.
The faux pas with the prince did not deflect La Goutte and his friends
from their reforming course, and they next turned their attention to the
receivers of the taille. In a deliberation of 23 December 1775, they issued
a series of instructions designed to improve the quality of the information
upon which the levy of the taille was based.103 Complaints about the in-
equalities in collecting the tax were legion, and throughout the eighteenth
century the alcades had called for the chamber to conduct a ‘general visit’.104
Rather than act themselves, La Goutte and his colleagues decided that they
would transfer responsibility for conducting the visit to the receivers of the
taille.105 According to the terms of the deliberation, the receivers were ap-
pointed as the commissioners of the chamber to visit annually and without
charge a number of the towns and communities of their bailliage.106 The
élus further stipulated that for the larger bailliages such as Dijon, Autun
and Chalon-sur-Saône a minimum of fifty communities should be visited
annually, whereas those of Bar-sur-Seine, or Auxerre, which were much
smaller, could be toured every year. By forcing the receivers to familiarise
themselves with the state of their bailliages, they would be better able to
fulfil their legal duty of informing the élus prior to the annual composi-
tion of the taille rolls. It would also reduce the need for costly visits by its
members to oversee the procedure of a nouveau pied de taille.
The reform of December 1775 was predictably unpopular with the re-
ceivers, whose time and money would be spent carrying out the inspections.
Some of their objections are to be found in an anonymous document writ-
ten some months later attacking La Goutte’s policies as a whole. Its author
argued that the purpose of a general visit was to decide the ‘contribution
of each community relative to the other communities of the province by a
comparison of their respective strengths’.107 Only the élus could undertake
this task which, he added, should not be confused with the quite separate
procedures of a nouveau pied de taille. If the élus could be accused of offering
half measures, rather than a thorough reform based upon a general visit and
a cadastre such as that implemented by Bertier de Sauvigny in the généralité
of Paris,108 there was nothing especially controversial about their measure.
103 ADCO C 3228, fols. 364–6. The élus later wrote a justification of the principles behind their reform,
ADCO C 3350, Requête des élus au roi.
104 See chapter 11.
105 The élus defended their decision in the Requête des élus au roi presented in the summer of 1776,
ADCO C 3350.
106 ADCO C 3350, ‘Observation sur la requête presentée au roy par les élus généraux des états . . .
tendante à révocation de l’arrêt du conseil du 28 juillet 1776 qui annulle trois de leurs délibérations
des 23 décembre 1775, 10 janvier et 1 février 1776’.
107 ADCO C 3350,‘Observation sur la requête’.
108 M. Touzery, L’invention de l’impôt sur le revenu. La taille tarifée, 1715–1789 (Paris, 1994).
During the previous triennalité, the chamber had ordered the mayors and
the receivers to send complete lists of every inhabitant claiming exemption
from the taille on the basis of their noble status or office.109 That the de-
liberation of 23 December was subsequently quashed by the crown owed
more to the reforms that followed.
The most radical of these was the deliberation of 10 January 1776,
which sought to establish the collection of the vingtièmes on an equitable
footing.110 When the tax had first been imposed in 1749, it was the in-
tendant who had been responsible for the verification of tax assessments
submitted by the province’s inhabitants. That process was still incomplete
when, in 1757, the Estates had first contracted an abonnement and began
to collect the vingtièmes.111 As a result, inequality was rife, and the prin-
cipal beneficiaries were the privileged elites who proved adept at evading
their fair share of the tax.112 Realising that earlier efforts at verification had
failed,113 La Goutte and his allies adopted an alternative approach. They
argued that the system of abonnement meant that the tax was transformed,
and ‘that it was not really the vingtième, but a sum representing it, that was
raised in the province’.114 As it was paid by all, the élus argued that:
to be just, all taxation must be equitable, it must be proportional; and to be
proportional, it is necessary to be relative not only to the means of the taxpayer,
but also to the total sum imposed.115
To achieve equality, La Goutte intended dividing the tax between the com-
munities of the province, without distinction of order or estate, which were
then to assemble and elect their assessors. The local seigneur would have
the automatic right to choose one assessor, while the forains, those non-
residents with land or property in the community, and the local inhabitants
could each choose up to three, albeit on condition that they would cast
one vote each. In the event of conflict, appeals were to be heard by the
élus themselves, but for La Goutte and his supporters the merits of the
reform were clear as ‘it tends to establish a proportional equality between
all taxpayers’.116
Equality was not one of the defining features of the Burgundian fis-
cal system, and the deliberation of 10 January, when combined with the
109 ADCO C 4730, ‘Délibération du 2 Janvier 1775’.

110 ADCO C 3329, fols. 124–9. 111 See chapter 10.
112 Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 122, and Bordes, L’administration provinciale, p. 107
113 As recently as 1772, the Estates had ordered the verifications to be resumed, but without effect.
114 ADCO C 3350, ‘Requête des élus au roi’. This was almost certainly written by La Goutte in the
summer of 1776, and its arguments are consistent with the deliberation of 10 January.
115 Ibid . 116 Ibid.
other actions being taken simultaneously by the chamber, was bound to
cause controversy. According to the critics of the reform, the details were
‘scarcely printed before they spread alarm and consternation throughout the
province’, and there is no doubt that the larger landowners, in particular,
were quickly roused.117 Mairetet de Thorey noted that:
this new form of imposing the vingtièmes has alarmed a good many people, and
notably the seigneurs and forains, I am sure that it will be essential to agree in the
communities something that is difficult enough, besides there is the fear of the
cadastre and the plans of the élus seem to point there indirectly.118
Critics argued that it was for the élus to levy the vingtième, not the assessors,
and they added the more weighty objection that the projected reform was, in
reality, nothing more than a revised version of the method used to collect the
taille, which the reformers themselves had admitted was prone to abuse.119
Moreover, if the communities were now to be assessed as a body, rather than
the tax being levied individually, there was the serious question of what to do
about those who defaulted. With the taille, the administration could resort
to the threat of contrainte solidaire, but such powers were not available in the
case of the vingtièmes. These solid, if not insurmountable, arguments were
accompanied by remonstrances from the Parlement of Dijon. However, the
most effective opposition came from the members of the privileged orders
themselves, who either delayed holding the necessary assemblies to appoint
the assessors,120 or supplied ‘their leases and made their declarations without
distinguishing between their properties by individual community’.121 With
the collection of the vingtième in danger of collapse, the élus voted to
suspend their reform on 12 July 1776 and returned to the old system for
what they hoped would be a temporary period.122
The third element of La Goutte’s strategy was encapsulated in a delib-
eration of 1 February 1776 and was directed at the financial officers of the
Estates, who allegedly lived a pampered life at the province’s expense. In
any given year, they were supposed to begin making the monthly payments
of the taille to the treasurer general on 1 March and to have processed their
117 ADCO C 3350, ‘Motifs des protestations du 26 Février [1777]’, and AN H1 132, dos. 2, fol. 5, ‘Projet
d’instructions particulières’.
118 ADCO E 1245, Mairetet de Thorey to his mother, 1776. There is no precise date on this letter, but
it was clearly written soon after the issuing of the deliberation of 10 January 1776.
119 ADCO C 3350,‘Observation sur la requête’. 120 Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 122.
121 ADCO C 3350, Requête des élus au roi.
122 Ibid . Their critics maintained that the suspension was simply a failed attempt to prevent the ministry
from acting against them.
accounts for the fiscal year within six months of its completion.123 In reality,
the receivers were many months in arrears, and the chamber had long fol-
lowed the practice of borrowing to cover payments to the royal treasury.
The deliberation of 1 February was intended to force the receivers to meet
the conditions of their annual ‘treaties’ with the Estates, and was justified
on the basis that it would prevent unnecessary borrowing, thus lightening
the burden of the taille.124
Not surprisingly, the treasurer general and the receivers opposed the new
policy vigorously, and they appealed directly to the royal council.125 They
argued that their belated payments resulted from an inbuilt delay within the
tax system, rather than laxity on their part. The taille rolls were drawn up in
November, and it was not until March at the earliest that collection could
begin, a situation that had been tolerated by the Estates for over a century.126
As one critic made clear, if the receivers were obliged to accelerate payments,
they would inevitably increase pressure on the taillables. This argument was
subsequently repeated in February 1777 by several of the élus, when they
attempted to distance themselves from the policies of the abbé.127 They
argued that the ‘treaties’ signed by the receivers were ‘old stylistic clauses
that are copied from year to year without consequence because they can no
longer be enforced’. If they were imposed, ‘every taxpayer would be at the
mercy of the receivers’, many of whom would rather abandon their posts
than become ‘oppressors’.128
Within a few months, the abbé de La Goutte and his colleagues had
succeeded in shaking up the traditionally tranquil world of the Burgundian
administration. Preaching the virtues of fiscal equality, while simultaneously
attacking the vested interests of the province’s pampered fiscal officers, was
a bold and potentially popular strategy. It also had the advantage of being
in tune with the reformist intentions of the contrôleur général, Turgot, who
made no move to stop La Goutte’s campaign despite the howls of protest
from the province’s privileged taxpayers and fiscal officers.129 However, on
123 ADCO C 3198, fols. 4–7, contains the traité of receiver Séguin of Dijon for 1750. These traités were
included in the registers of the élus for the whole period of this study.
124 ADCO C 3229, fols. 205–9. Similar motives lay behind a related decision to cease borrowing in
order to pay the annual sum of 300,000 livres of don gratuit extraordinaire. Instead, that sum was
to be taken directly from the proceeds of the crues levied on the sale of salt.
125 Although unsigned, it seems likely that the following memoirs criticising La Goutte were written by
the fiscal officers themselves, ADCO C 3350, ‘Observation sur la requête’, and C 3452, ‘Règlement
du 1février 1776 sur l’administration et régie des finances renouvellé dans plusieurs de ses dispositions
par deliberation du 19 février 1777’.
126 ADCO C 3452, ‘Règlement du 1 février 1776’.
127 ADCO C 3350, ‘Motifs des protestations du 26 Février [1777]’. 128 Ibid.
129 According to Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 122, Turgot was favourable to the reforms, although he
does not offer any evidence to support that assertion.
12 May 1776, Louis XVI dismissed his talented minister, and, in a foretaste
of what would prove an unhappy reign, replaced him with a comparative
nonentity, Clugny de Nuits. The new man was a Burgundian, a former
councillor in the Parlement of Dijon, and he proved sympathetic to the
critics of the reform. La Goutte and his allies ploughed on regardless. On
8 July, an infuriated Amelot discovered that the élus had dismissed one of
his protégés, Jolivet, the official architect of the Estates, without informing
him.130 When the minister complained, he was informed that the office
was ‘useless and onerous’, and had been suppressed as part of an attempt
to reduce the burden on the taillables.131 Clearly oblivious to any danger
the élus continued their cost-cutting programme, but they were skating on
very thin ice.
The change in government policy, when it came, was sudden and de-
cisive. On 28 July 1776, the royal council took the almost unprecedented
decision to issue an arrêt which quashed the deliberations of the chamber
of élus dated 23 December 1775, 10 January and 1 February 1776. As La
Goutte and his colleagues were in Paris for the voyage of honour it was a
real humiliation, and their discomfiture was increased by the immediate
publication of the arrêt not only in Burgundy, but throughout France.132
Clugny de Nuits explained the reasons behind the change of policy in a
letter to the élus, declaring that:
His Majesty, having been informed of the alarm spread throughout the orders
of the province and of the reaction of the Parlement of Burgundy regarding your
deliberations on these matters, . . . has judged that he could not stop their execution
too promptly [in order] to calm the fears and [prevent] actions whose consequences
could become extremely unfortunate and capable of troubling [public] tranquillity
and good order.133
To prevent any further quibbling about the disputed deliberations, the
crown referred the matter to the Estates ‘for consideration at their next
assembly, if they see fit’.
After such a rebuff, the élus fell back on the tried and trusted formula
of appealing to the prince de Condé. It was now that they would have
cause to regret their earlier indiscretion. Rather than fulfil his habitual role
as protector of the Estates, the governor remained aloof. On 23 August,
the élus were reduced to writing a desperate note pleading that ‘we have
sent several times to the Palais Bourbon and we have not been informed
of the times when Your Serene Highness would be present. We have in
130 ADCO C 3364, fol. 20, Amelot to the élus, 8 July 1776.
131 Ibid ., fol. 21, the élus to Amelot, 26 July 1776. 132 ADCO C 3350, ‘Requête des élus au roi’.
133 ADCO C 3356, fol. 22, Clugny de Nuits to the élus, 29 July 1776.
consequence, monseigneur, to write to you to beg you to accord us an
audience’.134 Nor was the secretary of state, Amelot, likely to be more
helpful after the recent incident involving the provincial architect. The élus
were totally isolated, and they faced an almost hopeless task in trying to
overturn the arrêt of 28 July.
It was to defend their reforms that the élus drafted their Requête au roi in
the autumn of 1776, which sought to justify their actions and demonstrate
that the arrêt quashing their judgements was irregular, constituting nothing
less than ‘un coup d’autorité’ against their rights and those of the Estates.135
They argued that as élus, they were not simply expected to implement the
decisions of the Estates, ‘they represent them, they stand in for them, they
are the stewards and administrators of the province in the name of the
Estates’. While not denying that the king was in turn the superior of the
Estates, they claimed that as élus they were:
subject to the Estates, and the authority of Your Majesty must not bear on the
content of their règlements before the Estates have used their right to confirm them
or wipe them away; such is the ancient and immemorial institution of the duchy of
Burgundy, and this ancient right, confirmed from reign to reign, has been observed
inviolably until this day.136
The élus finished their constitutional lesson with the observation that by
quashing their deliberations, the ministry had placed ‘the authority of the
[king’s] council between the Estates and the élus’, overturning their privi-
leges, rights and liberties in the process.
The Requête au roi was a bold statement of provincial independence,
and if accepted would have rendered the élus the absolute masters of the
provincial administration. Realistically they had little chance of winning
the argument because the king had to reserve the right to quash their
deliberations in much the same way as he did the arrêts of the parlements.
Only if the Estates subsequently backed their élus, or issued comparable
décrets, was the decision of 28 July 1776 likely to be reversed. La Goutte
was unwilling to accept that verdict, and on 19 February 1777 he proposed
a new reform to the élus which strongly resembled that of 1 February 1776.
His measure split the chamber, with the marquis d’Antigny and Maufoux
supporting his proposal and the other élus opposing it. As the vicomte
mayeur of Dijon and the élu of the third estate were on opposing sides, the
result was a tie and the matter was decided by La Goutte’s casting vote as élu
of the clergy. Normally the dissenting élus would have been expected to sign
134 ADCO C 3364, fol. 25, the élus to the prince de Condé, 23 August 1776.
135 ADCO C 3350, ‘Requête des élus au roi’. 136 Ibid.
the deliberation and to support it as an expression of corporate will. Instead,
they drafted a strongly worded protest criticising La Goutte and his policies
and sent it to Versailles.137 With the intendant also voicing his concerns,
the ministry did not require much prompting to take further action, and
on 5 May 1777 the offending deliberation was quashed.138 Any lingering
hopes of reviving the reform were dashed in January 1778, when Necker
rejected the proposal that the principles contained in the deliberations of
1 February 1776 and 19 February 1777 should be included in a new calendar
of payments for the province’s taxes.139
La Goutte and his supporters were left to await the Estates, and to hope
that the assembly would share their concerns about the alleged threat to the
provincial constitution posed by the arrêts du conseil of 28 July 1776 and
5 May 1777. The government was well aware of the danger, and the inten-
dant Dupleix de Baquencourt, informed Necker that if the Estates sided
with La Goutte ‘this would be the signal for a war between the ministry
and the province’.140 The crown was determined to prevent such a conflict,
and armed the prince de Condé with a series of secret instructions designed
to head off trouble.141 The ministry was fortunate to be able to count upon
the experience of the governor, who was requested to ‘employ the means of
persuasion’ with the presidents and leading members of the three orders.
Sensibly his instructions stopped short of forbidding discussion of the dis-
puted arrêts, and even permitted the matter to be raised in the cahier des
remontrances. It was nevertheless vital to avoid any proposition question-
ing ‘the incontestable right[s] of His Majesty, as father and guardian of his
subjects and as sovereign legislator’.142 If the ministry was prepared to allow
discussion, even protest, it did not intend to tolerate constitutional debate.
The Estates opened in May 1778 and the intendant was soon informing
Necker that there was no cause for alarm, as the ‘party’ of the élus was
‘very small’.143 In an effort to stir the assembly, supporters of La Goutte se-
cretly placed a bundle of documents relating to the disputed deliberations,
137 ADCO C 3350, ‘Motifs des protestations du 26 Février [1777]’.

138 The government’s action was explained in a letter sent to the chamber by the contrôleur général,
Taboureau, ADCO C 3364, fol. 62, Taboureau to the élus, 8 May 1777.
139 Necker raised the idea of a ‘terme fixe’ for the payment of the taxation to the royal treasury in
December 1777, and the élus tried unsuccessfully to persuade him that this could only be achieved
in conjunction with their own reforms, ADCO C 3364, fols. 95, 96, 102, Necker to the élus, 28
December 1776; the élus to Necker, 3 January 1778; and Necker to the élus, 31 January 1778.
140 AN H1 132, dos. 2., fol. 9 bis, Dupleix to Necker, 2 March 1778.
141 Ibid ., fol. 5, ‘Projet d’instructions particulières’, and ibid., fols. 28, 31, 32, Necker to Amelot, 21
April 1778, and the two letters from Necker to Condé, 24 April 1778.
142 Ibid ., fol. 5, ‘Projet d’instructions particulières’.
143 AN H1 132, fol. 44, Dupleix to Necker, 4 May 1778, and ibid., fol. 38, 25 April 1778.
and a printed defence of the outgoing administration, in each of the three
chambers.144 Even that failed to rouse their members, who decided unani-
mously to exclude the deliberations ‘as null and void, as they contain several
measures that might produce an effect contrary to that which the zeal of
the élus had promised’.145 All that stood between La Goutte and complete
defeat were the alcades, whose remarques provided another occasion to raise
the matter. As his brother was one of the seven alcades, he had firm grounds
for optimism and their report was indeed glowing.
Throughout their remarques, there were references to the ‘patriotism’ of
the élus, and when the alcades turned their attention to the disputed re-
forms they were full of admiration.146 They urged the Estates to adopt the
measures as their own, offering at the same time a number of recommenda-
tions for improving the particularly controversial deliberation of 10 January
1776.147 The most important proposal was for the individual bailliages to
be divided into departments, with a commissioner appointed by the élus
to oversee the meetings of the assessors of the vingtièmes in the different
communities. The aim was to prevent abuse and to reduce the possibility
of the seigneurs and forains using their wealth and authority to their own
advantage. The alcades concluded by approving the Requête des élus au roi,
and they urged the Estates to petition the king for the revocation of the
arrêt du conseil of 28 July 1776. Despite the eloquence of their appeal, the
chambers refused to reverse their earlier decision to treat the deliberations
as ‘null and void’,148 and in the official registers it states simply that ‘the
Estates decreed that there was no need to deliberate on this remarque’.149
The assembly of 1778 had passed off without serious incident and the
ministry could congratulate itself upon a highly satisfactory outcome. Yet
the pusillanimity of the Estates had left many deputies disappointed. In
a memoir written between 1778 and 1781, one member of the assembly
expressed his anger and frustration, arguing that:
the Estates have not charged the current élus to request the revocation of the arrêt
du conseil, they have approved it by their silence, and as a consequence they give
their consent to the destruction of their privileges, privileges that our forefathers
have acquired at the price of their blood, privileges that we have even more right
to demand be preserved because the absorption of this province under Louis XI
was by the free and good will of the Estates, and under the express condition that
their [privileges] would be preserved without any innovation.150
144 Ibid ., fol. 48, Dupleix to Necker, 9 May 1778.
147 The observations of the alcades were contained in article seven of the remarques, a copy of which is
conserved in ADCO C 4730, ‘Decret des états, reglemens annullés’.
148 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 158. 149 ADCO 4730 , ‘Decret des états, reglemens annullés’.
150 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 243.
Here were precisely the kind of sentiments that the government feared,
and the failure of serious protests to surface during the Estates of 1778
demonstrates how carefully they had been managed.
The issue of reform would not, however, go away. When the Estates
next assembled in May 1781, the alcades were even more determined to
press for change, taking up many of the policies of La Goutte and adding
many more of their own.151 Never before had such radical criticisms of the
administration been drafted, and they included attacks on the financial
officers, the inequalities of the tax system and the excessive fees charged by
the Chambre des Comptes. Nor were the élus spared, and the need for the
Estates to assume responsibility for the administration featured amongst
a broader programme of reforms.152 Yet before this potentially incendiary
document could be presented, the prince de Condé summoned the alcades
to his cabinet, where ‘he forbade them, in the name of the king, to submit
their remarques to the chambers’.153
The stunned commissioners retreated to their bureau to ponder their
next move, but the next day they received orders from the governor not to
present themselves before the Estates. Such a decision was unprecedented,
and the anger and bewilderment of the alcades can be gauged from reading
the comments scrawled on a copy of the remarques, almost certainly by one
of their number.154 He wrote:
suffice it to observe that this coup d’autorité completely ruins and destroys the
rights, privileges and liberties of the province, if the Estates are jealous to conserve
them, the general assembly must neglect nothing to ensure its remonstrances reach
the feet of the throne and to recover the rights that have been taken away otherwise
they can say that the [province’s] ability to govern itself has gone and is lost for
ever. If there are no more Estates it is useless to assemble the province at great
expense for a meeting which no longer has a useful aim or purpose.
Yet despite the éclat caused by the censoring of the remarques, the Estates
remained calm, and there was no sign of a challenge to the authority of the
governor.
The events of May 1781, coming so soon after the furore caused by
attempted reforms of La Goutte, were a clear sign that managing the Estates
was becoming more difficult. There was a genuine desire for reform, and
the projects presented in the decade after 1774 presaged those that would
be voiced with ever greater urgency in the increasingly febrile political
151 ADCO C 3302, ‘Copie de la minute des remarques des commissaires alcades . . . pour l’assemblée
des états ouvert le 6 May 1781’.
152 These are examined in chapter 12. 153 ADCO C 3302, ‘Copie de la minute’.
154 Ibid . The fact that these comments were written on one of the rare copies of the original remarques
makes it highly likely that one of the alcades was responsible.
atmosphere after 1787. At the last meeting of the Estates of Burgundy, held
in November of that year, these ideas finally broke into the open with a
genuine debate about the conduct and composition of the Estates.155 As
ever, the prince de Condé maintained a firm grip on events, displaying an
impressive degree of political acumen in difficult circumstances. However,
the hold of ‘our prince’ over the hearts and minds of Burgundians was
slipping, and in 1789 the governor’s hopes of being elected to represent the
province at the Estates General were dashed. He was one of the first to
emigrate after the events of 14 July 1789, and when the English traveller,
Arthur Young, arrived in Dijon a few days later he was informed by the
local people that if the governor presented himself in the city he would be
lynched.156
The relationship between the Estates and the crown during the eigh-
teenth century has usually been depicted in terms of growing centralisation
as the secretary of state and the intendant progressively superseded the gov-
ernor. It is certainly true that the death of the duc de Bourbon was followed
by much closer royal scrutiny of both the Estates and the provincial admin-
istration, and for a brief period the success of the intendant in purchasing
the office of élu du roi threatened to increase his influence substantially.
Once the prince de Condé came of age, however, matters immediately
became more complicated, and as he grew in stature and experience he
recaptured some of the ground lost in 1740. Working in harmony with the
Estates, he fulfilled his family’s traditional role of protecting their interests,
most notably in repelling L’Averdy’s municipal reforms, and he continued
to act as the mediator of their disputes, successfully resolving the long-
running feud with the états particuliers of the Mâconnais. Although the
relationship between the Estates and the crown was relatively harmonious,
it was still necessary for the assembly and the élus to defend their rights, as
the battle to overturn the règlement of 1742 illustrates perfectly.
There are, therefore, good grounds for challenging the Whiggish assump-
tions that lie behind historical interpretations stressing the centralising mis-
sion of the monarchical state. Indeed, if anything, the second half of the
eighteenth century witnessed a movement in the opposite direction with
the Estates recovering old powers and establishing new ones to good effect.
There were nevertheless limits to provincial independence, and as demands
for reform grew louder the government reacted nervously, preferring to side
with the privileged interests of financial officers and wealthy landowners.
The Estates were an important source of credit, and a reluctance to rock the
155 See chapter 12. 156 Young, Travels in France, p. 192

boat was understandable. Ultimately, the reformers proved relatively easy
to control, especially once the fall of Turgot had robbed them of ministe-
rial support. No less significant was the conservative temperament of the
prince de Condé, who was unsympathetic to the arguments of the abbé de
La Goutte, or those of the alcades in 1781. The king continued to rely on the
governor’s authority, and far from negligible political skills. He remained
the central focus of the crown’s management of the Estates, and a compar-
ison with events in contemporary Brittany suggests that he fully deserved
that confidence. As the political mood began to change after 1774, not even
the prince de Condé could be sure of presiding serenely over the Estates.
Yet if his popularity had begun to fade during the twilight of the ancien
régime, it is still difficult to escape the conclusion that he had preserved his
family’s influence almost to the last.
chapter 9
Provincial rivalries: the Estates and the Parlement

of Dijon in the eighteenth century
Institutional life in ancien régime France was characterised by almost con-

stant conflict as rival corps fought to maintain their status, power and
privileges. For the king, who was the source and the guarantor of corporate
rights, these quarrels were frequently more of a nuisance than a threat, and
they helped to ensure that combined challenges to his authority, such as
that experienced during the Fronde, were extremely rare.1 Within individ-
ual provinces, especially the pays d’états, it might be expected that local
privileges would provide a rallying point for these fiercely independent
corps. In practice, the amount of collaboration was limited. In his study of
seventeenth-century Languedoc, Beik has demonstrated that the province’s
rulers ‘shared common aspirations, but the modes of operation of their in-
stitutions set them against one another in a perpetual equilibrium of adver-
sarial relationships which only the king could arbitrate’.2 James Collins has
also identified areas of conflict in Brittany, but he adds that ‘in general, the
Estates, the Parlement and chamber [Chambre des Comptes] would work
together’ to protect their own interests and those of the province.3 There is
no doubt that in the right circumstances cooperation between institutions
was possible, and this was illustrated most dramatically during the reign of
Louis XV, when a combination of growing hostility to taxation and bitter
1 In 1648, the Parlement of Paris, Grand Conseil, Cour des Aides and Chambre des Comptes had tem-
porarily forgotten their traditional hostility and had formed the Chambre Saint-Louis to press their
demands upon the regency government, see: A. L. Moote, The revolt of the judges. The Parlement of
Paris and the Fronde, 1643–1652 (Princeton, 1971), pp. 91–222. The gradual resolution of the crisis is
examined by Hamscher, Parlement of Paris after the Fronde, pp. 82–154. During the reign of Louis
XV, the parlements developed the theory of a union des classes, but despite frightening the crown
on several occasions the theory was never put into practice, J. Swann, ‘Robe, sword and aristocratic
reaction revisited. The French nobility and political crisis, 1748–1789’ in R. G. Asch, Der europäische
adel im ancien régime. Von der krise der ständischen monarchien bis zur revolution, 1600–1789 (Cologne,
2001), pp. 151–78.
2 Beik, Absolutism and society, p. 177, and pp. 165, 187–9, 198–219.
3 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, pp. 210–11.
262
The Estates and the Parlement of Dijon 263
personal rivalries provoked the infamous Brittany affair.4 The Estates and
Parlement formed a united front, eventually forcing the imperious local
commandant, the duc d’Aiguillon, from the province. Yet according to the
most authoritative historian of the eighteenth-century Breton Estates, such
behaviour was exceptional and ‘the Parlement only backed the action of
the Estates when its own political interests required it’.5
Overall it is probably fair to say that periods of outright conflict or
enthusiastic cooperation were the exception, and that for much of the
time different corps existed in a state of mutual respect and suspicion. In
Burgundy, the Estates considered themselves, with some justification, to
be the province’s most prestigious institution. To preserve that status they
were obliged to keep a close eye on the activities of the états particuliers,
especially those of the Mâconnais, whose administration was frequently
suspected of harbouring hopes of independence, and to resist any attempts
by the crown to bolster the authority of the intendant.6 The Chambre des
Comptes, which provided two of the seven élus and profited handsomely
from its involvement in the fiscal system of the Estates, was less obviously
a threat. Yet despite sharing common interests, the two sides were often at
odds during the reign of Louis XIV about the value of épices or issues of
fiscal jurisdiction.7
It was, however, the Parlement of Dijon that provided the closest com-
petitor to the Estates both in terms of prestige and the honour of claiming
to defend the privileges of Burgundy. Relations between the two great
corps were not always conflictual and many of the same families were
represented in both institutions. Moreover, most benefited in one way or
another from the fiscal system overseen by the Estates, whether directly
in terms of pensions, or through the credit and tax structure.8 There was
also a desire to avoid unnecessary antagonism, and there are numerous ex-
amples of the Estates’ legal officers working with senior parlementaires on
issues of joint concern.9 While not averse to sniping behind each other’s
backs, relations between the Parlement and the Estates were reasonably
4 For classic and conflicting accounts see: Marion, La Bretagne et le duc d’Aiguillon, and Pocquet,
D’Aiguillon et La Chalotais.
5 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, p. 211, and pp. 209–10, 216. 6 See chapters 8 and 11.
7 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 207–9. 8 See chapters 6 and 10.
9 In their remarques of 1700, the conseils des états suggested ‘que pour empescher les vexations qui se
font souvent dans le cours des décrets et saisies réelles par les créanciers . . . les états ont décrété qu’il
en sera conféré par messieurs les élus avec m. le premier président et m. le procureur général du
parlement pour après les éclaircissements puis faire telles remontrances à Sa Majesté qu’ils jugeront
à propos’. ADCO C 3000, fol. 154.
harmonious throughout the reign of Louis XIV,10 but in the course of the
eighteenth century that calm was shattered. As Christopher Corley has
recently demonstrated, the legal officers of the Estates clashed with the
Parlement over the issue of paternal rights and inheritance law in the 1720s,
engaging in a highly public quarrel with both sides publishing pamphlets
in an effort to sway the public.11 It was a pattern that would be repeated
with increasing regularity thereafter.
The second half of the reign of Louis XV witnessed a national resurgence
of parlementaire opposition, notably against the religious and fiscal policies
of the crown. The Burgundian magistrates were largely untouched by the
great quarrels arising from the persecution of the Jansenists, but they were
far more active when it came to resisting new taxation. That role, when
combined with a desire to scrutinise the increasingly powerful adminis-
tration of the élus, would provoke a series of fierce conflicts after 1750.12
An analysis of these disputes reveals much about the relative strengths and
weaknesses of both institutions, and helps to explain why there was little
sign of provincial solidarity before 1789.
t h e s to r m c lo u d s gat h e r
Arguably the most important, and certainly the most amusing, Burgun-
dian corporate quarrel of the early eighteenth century was the legendary
‘armchair affair’.13 At stake was the claim of the military commandant, the
comte de Saulx-Tavanes, to enjoy the same privileges as the governor during
the interregnum following the death of the duc de Bourbon. Saulx-Tavanes
demanded a variety of ceremonial honours, including the right to be seated
in an imposing armchair, decorated with blue velvet and gold fleur-de-
lys, when fulfilling his official duties in the Parlement. The commandant’s
rather tenuous claims were those of a haughty man, who, as a Burgundian,
perhaps ought to have known better, but despite the seemingly trivial nature
of the dispute the Parlement was outraged. Remonstrances and complaints
10 The correspondence of first president Brulart contains a number of sharp attacks on the motives of
the élus, La Cuisine, Choix de lettres par Nicolas Brulart, i, pp. 159–60, 166–71, 179–82.
11 C. Corley, ‘Parental authority, legal practice, and state building in early modern France’ unpublished
Ph.D. thesis (Purdue University, 2001), 156–224.
12 For an introduction to the quarrels between the Parlement and the Estates, see: Colombet, Les
parlementaires bourguignons, pp. 4–30; E. F. de La Cuisine, Parlement de Bourgogne, ii, pp. 393–408;
J. Richard, ‘Le parlement de Bourgogne et la monarchie aux deux derniers siècles de l’ancien régime’,
Annales de Bourgogne 49 (1977), 107–19; and J. Swann, ‘The Varenne affair’.
13 The following is based upon J. Ormancey, ‘L’affaire de fauteuil, 1744’, Annales de Bourgogne 38
(1966), 81–99.
poured forth and the quarrel was judged sufficiently serious for the king to
exile six leading magistrates. Saulx-Tavanes eventually prevailed, prompt-
ing one local wag to declare that just as the local proverb foretold that much
could pass between the wine glass and the nose so too could it between the
‘arse and the armchair’.14
This curious affair did have a serious side. It underlined the lengths to
which the Parlement of Dijon was prepared to go in order to defend its
own prestige and honour, and after 1750 the increasingly assertive court had
the élus firmly in its sights. The first hint of friction was provided by the
king’s decision of June 1755 to award an annual pension of 20,000 livres,
payable by the Estates, to the recently retired governor, the duc de Saint-
Aignan.15 The élus dutifully levied the sum on the province’s capitation
rolls and informed the Parlement, but when the Estates met in August 1757
the three chambers voted unanimously to demand the suppression of the
pension in their remonstrances.16 Matters might have rested there if Saint-
Aignan had not presented letters patent, confirming the establishment of
his pension, to the Parlement in January 1758. His pension was in existence
de facto since the autumn of 1755, but the letters patent allowed the judges
to criticise both the crown and the élus. On 2 March 1758, they issued an
arrêt forbidding the levy of any taxes not registered in the form of letters
patent, voting simultaneously to prepare remonstrances. The arrêt was a
bold assertion that the Parlement, not the Estates, had the right to approve
taxation, but the élus chose to turn a blind eye because ‘it [the arrêt]
had neither been printed nor published’.17 If the arrêt remained secret
the subsequent remonstrances did not, and when the king subsequently
relieved the province of the burden of paying for Saint-Aignan’s pension
in August 1758 both sides were in a position to claim the credit.18 It was
an early sign of the growing competition between the two institutions for
public approval and support.
The spat over the issue of the governor’s pension was rapidly eclipsed
by the revival of an ancient quarrel arising from the vexed question of
administrative and judicial competence in cases of cotes d’office and nouveaux
pieds de taille. As the élus were responsible for preparing the taille rolls, they
also had the right to impose cotes d’office. Put simply, this allowed them
14 BN MS Fr 10435, fol. 34.

15 ADCO C 3349, ‘Extrait du mémoire contenant un précis des faits relatifs aux déméles d’entre le
parlement cour des aydes de Dijon et les états et élus généraux du duché de Bourgogne’
16 ADCO C 3045, fol. 136. 17 ADCO C 3349, ‘Extrait du mémoire contenant un précis’.
18 See: J. Varenne’s, Mémoire pour les élus géneraux de états de Bourgogne (Lyon, 1762), p. 74; ADCO
C 3349; and the Parlement’s remonstrances of 16 March 1762.
to fix the taille assessments of wealthy individuals, who might otherwise
use their influence to escape their obligations. Problems only arose when
the taxpayers concerned wished to appeal. According to the élus, and all
the legal evidence, such cases were to be heard by themselves, and, if the
appellant was still dissatisfied, by the royal council.19 The judges, on the
other hand, maintained that their own court should hear appeals, sitting
as Cour des Aides, a claim they justified by reference to the pays d’élections.
The dispute had a long history. The élus had first been authorised to
impose cotes d’office in March 1641, but in 1660 first president Brulart was
still protesting that ‘this enterprise is a pure revolt of the élus against the
authority of their sovereign magistrates’.20 The personal reign of Louis XIV
restored calm, and it was not until a declaration of August 1715, that clarified
procedure in the pays d’élections, that battle was rejoined.21 The Parlement
requested the application of the new law in Burgundy, a move that the élus
quickly contested. The matter was referred to the king’s council in May
1716, where it was still ‘pending’ more than forty years later. Rather than
antagonise either party, the crown had simply allowed the matter to drop
and the élus had continued to levy cotes d’office unmolested.
It was not until the spring of 1759 that this truce broke down.22 On 17
April, the king issued a declaration suspending the fiscal privileges of certain
minor officeholders, ordering the élus to assess them for the taille by cotes
d’office. When the Parlement of Dijon registered the law it added the proviso
that any appeals be heard by itself sitting as the Cour des Aides. The royal
council quashed its arrêt in September 1759, but the judges demonstrated
their increasing combativeness by opening up an attack on another front.
While their pretensions relative to cotes d’office rested on shaky ground, they
had a better case on the issue of nouveaux pieds de taille. In Burgundy, the
different towns and communities of the province had the right to request
the composition of a new taille roll to take account of changing population
19 When the Dijonnais sent a letter to the Parlement of Rennes, asking for information about the
procedure affecting cotes d’office in Brittany, they received a very unwelcome reply. According to the
Bretons, the commission intermediaire of the Estates was responsible for such matters and heard all
complaints which went on appeal to the royal council. They added ‘jamais le Parlement n’en prend
connoissance, ny comme Parlement, ny comme Cour des Aides’, ADCO C 3349. For all their efforts
to disguise the fact, the same was legally true in Burgundy.
20 La Cuisine, Brulart, i, pp. 167–71, Brulart to Condé, 2 June 1660, and ibid., pp. 171–3, Brulart to
Fouquet, 2 June 1660.
21 D’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 57–8, 189–92.
22 The following is based upon: ADCO C 3349, ‘Extrait du mémoire contenant un précis’, and AN K
709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis des faits relatifs aux démelés d’entre le Parlement Cour
des Aydes de Dijon, et les Etats et élus généraux du duché de Bourgogne’. The second mémoire,
from which the first was largely drawn, was written by the secrétaire des états, Jacques Varenne.
or ownership patterns. What was in doubt was whom they should ask, the
chamber of élus or the Parlement. As with much ancien régime jurisdiction,
the precise legal position had never been clarified and both bodies ordered
nouveaux pieds de taille when they saw fit. In February 1760, the judges
broke that tacit agreement by opening investigations into a nouveau pied
de taille overseen in the town of Charolles by Jacques Varenne, secrétaire des
états, acting on the orders of the élus. In response, the chamber successfully
petitioned for an arrêt du conseil d’état, dated 28 June 1760, confirming its
right to order both cotes d’office and nouveaux pieds de taille. For Varenne,
who had prepared the statement of their case, it would prove to be a Pyrrhic
victory because the language and arguments he employed in defence of the
Estates would bring down the wrath of the Parlement upon him.
The deteriorating relationship between the Parlement and the chamber
of élus was transformed into a full-scale public conflict because of the king’s
need to increase direct taxation. With France facing defeat in the Seven
Years War, the contrôleur général, Henri Léonard Bertin, was obliged to
levy a third vingtième and to double the capitation. The relevant edicts
were sent to the Parlement of Dijon in March 1760, and the local judges
were quick to add their voice to the wider chorus of parlementaire protest.23
The judges issued remonstrances and ignored three sets of lettres de jussion
before finally registering the new taxes on 22 September. Such obstinacy was
typical of the period and would have been thoroughly unremarkable had
it not been for the earlier action of the élus. Without waiting for the judges
in Dijon, a deputation from the chamber of élus, including Varenne, had
already bowed to pressure from Bertin and signed what they believed to be
an advantageous abonnement for the third vingtième on 26 August. In other
words, they had agreed to pay a tax, which, in theory, might not be levied
if the king heeded the Parlement’s remonstrances. Varenne subsequently
claimed that the deputation had received private reassurances from senior
judges that the abonnement would be acceptable.24 If so, he had been misled
because the court feared that it would set a precedent, undermining both
their rights of registration and remonstrance.25
23 Events in Dijon are examined by G. Dumay, ‘Une session des états généraux de Bourgogne à Autun
en 1763’, Mémoires de la Société Éduenne 8 (1879), 4–6, and Foisset, Président de Brosses, pp. 202–3,
206–10. For the reaction of the other parlements, see Egret, L’opposition parlementaire, pp. 93–112,
140–8, and Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 182–91.
24 AN K709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
25 The magistrates continually stressed this point in their remonstrances, pamphlets and private cor-
respondence, see: BMD MS 778, fol. 30, ‘Le parlement outragé’, by Joly de Bévy; BMD MS 912,
fol. 172, Fontette to Drouin de Vaudeuil, 25 January 1763; and ADCO C 3349, ‘Mémoire au sujet
de la datte des lettres d’abonnement’.
Rumours about the abonnement were already circulating in Dijon when
the Parlement assembled on 22 September, and it was almost certainly in
response that the court decided to add a clause to its arrêt d’enregistrement
stipulating that the third vingtième was to be imposed for 1761 and 1762
only, thus contradicting the terms of the abonnement, which had also in-
cluded the last quarter of 1760. When the letters patent authorising the
abonnement were formally delivered to the Parlement, the government
missed an opportunity to calm the situation by refusing to change the date
it contained.26 Thus in their arrêts d’enregistrement of 10 February 1761, for
the vingtième, and 7 March 1761, for the doubled capitation, the judges
added further modifications. On 10 February, they stated their position
in unequivocal terms declaring that ‘no new tax can be established, dis-
tributed, nor levied in the jurisdiction of the court, other than by virtue of
edicts, declarations or letters patent duly verified in the said court’.27 In the
remonstrances of the Parlement of Paris, this statement would have been
unremarkable. In Burgundy, the same doctrine was controversial because
the Estates voted the five taxes composing the taille,28 and, if the Parlement’s
arrêt was interpreted literally, only the capitation and vingtièmes were legally
valid. Claiming an insult to their privileges, the élus sent a strongly worded
requête for cassation, drafted by Varenne, to the conseil des finances which
quashed the Parlement’s arrêts of 22 September 1760, 10 February and
7 March 1761, on 27 October 1761.
There were a number of reasons why the government, and especially
Bertin, was prepared to side with the Estates and enter into conflict with
the Parlement. In the summer of 1760, the crown was just emerging from
a long struggle with the parlements to increase taxation that had begun in
August of the previous year, and it could ill-afford further delays.29 Another
important factor in the government’s calculations was the role played by
the Estates in raising taxation and loans, which meant that it had a vested
interest in supporting the prerogatives of the élus. In a conversation with
the prince de Condé’s secretary, Girard, Bertin lauded the ‘administration
of Burgundy’s zeal for the king’s service’, declaring ‘that if all the généralités
could behave in the same fashion he would be pleased to see them all
made into pays d’états’.30 The Parlement had adopted the role of attacking
26 The Parlement did protest about the date and tried without success to get it changed, although
Bertin did promise that the events of August 1760 would not be repeated. Dumay, ‘Une session des
états’, 5, and Foisset, Président de Brosses, p. 202.
27 ADCO C 3349, ‘Mémoire au sujet de la date des lettres d’abonnement’.
28 See chapter 6. 29 Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 182–92.
30 BMC AC MS 1416, fol. 24, Girard to Rigoley, 17 November 1760.
the same administration in the name of the taxpayer, and Bertin was un-
sympathetic to their complaints in wartime.31
As one magistrate noted bitterly in a later pamphlet, the élus were de-
lighted by their victory and printed:
an infinite number of examples that they distributed in Paris and throughout the
province, and in order to make the insult to the Parlement more public and more
outrageous, if it were possible, they posted it everywhere after having signified it
to the procureur général.32
In addition to its natural resentment at seeing the crown side with the élus,
the Parlement was incensed by this public humiliation and in particular
by a phrase used by Varenne when preparing his requête for the Conseil
des Finances, which appeared in the printed version of the arrêt.33 He had
written that:
at a time when His Majesty had accorded the said abonnements, he was perfectly
well informed of the Parlement of Dijon’s resistance to the registration of the edict
of February 1760, from which it is necessary to conclude that the changes dictated
by this court have been motivated by personal interest completely unconnected to
the public good.
The horrified magistrates approved remonstrances on 9 January 1762,
declaring that it was the first time that a court had been ‘insulted un-
der the very eyes of the sovereign, and had found its honour exposed to
attack’.34 The court threatened a judicial strike if it did not receive a pos-
itive reply to its remonstrances within a month. Nothing was heard from
Versailles, and the judges made good their threat on 1 February, voting at
the same time to draft yet more remonstrances. The crisis intensified on
2 April when the government forcibly registered letters patent forbidding
future attacks on the legitimacy of abonnements contracted by the élus.
Almost inevitably further protests followed, and the ministry reacted with
a novel version of an old tactic by ‘exiling’ the judges to their hometown of
Dijon, where they remained for nearly a year. The government presumably
believed that this would inconvenience the judges, who could not visit or
31 Bertin’s attitude can be gauged from reading his extensive correspondence with Miromesnil, P. Le
Verdier, ed., Correspondance politique et administrative de Miromesnil, premier président du parlement
de Normandie, 5 vols. (Paris, 1899–1903), i, ii.
32 ADCO C 3349, ‘Lettre de M. de . . . à M. de . . . sur les démélés actuels du Parlement de Dijon avec
les élus généraux de la province de Bourgogne’.
33 BMD MS 2326, fol. 241. The text was quoted in the Parlement’s remonstrances of 7 July 1762, with
the offending phrase d’INTERET PERSONNEL capitalised, ADCO C 3349.
34 Ibid. They added that the insult ‘a été porté à son comble par l’impression, la publication et l’affiche’.
attend to their country estates, without causing the stir of sending them
into exile elsewhere.
Through this rather tangled web of events it is possible to identify a
series of overlapping disputes that had, by the end of 1761, produced a
bitter conflict between the élus and the Parlement, resulting in the disgrace
of the latter. In 1759, the Parlement of Dijon had launched one of its periodic
campaigns against the provincial administration on the disputed grounds
of cotes d’office and nouveaux pieds de taille. Behind these superficially dry
and complicated jurisdictional issues real power was at stake. Victory for
the Parlement would have placed it in a position to scrutinise the province’s
fiscal administration and have given it the means to censure the conduct
of the élus. It was for this reason that the two sides fought so fiercely
about cotes d’office throughout much of the eighteenth century.35 An already
tense situation was transformed into a crisis because of the government’s
pressing need for increased taxation. Rather than wait for the Parlement
to register the necessary edicts, Bertin encouraged the élus to contract an
early abonnement, and then did nothing to soothe the hurt feelings of
the parlementaires. Finally, the élus, championed by Varenne, had shown
themselves willing not only to stand up to the challenge of the Parlement,
but even to question its integrity and its claims to be the guardian of the
public interest.
t h e b at t l e fo r p u b l i c opi n i o n
As we have seen, during these angry exchanges one name came regularly
to the fore, that of the secrétaire des états, Jacques Varenne. Such was his
importance that as the crisis developed he became its principal focus, and
ever since it has been known as ‘the Varenne affair’.36 By 1760, Varenne
was seemingly at the summit of a long and distinguished career. He was
born in 1710 into one of Dijon’s most talented legal families, which was
gradually making the transition into the local robe nobility. His uncle,
Claude, was a celebrated avocat, nicknamed the ‘grand Varenne’, whose
praises had been sung by leading magistrates such as president Bouhier.37
His father was also a lawyer, albeit one who had made his fortune as the
receiver of the taille in Bourg-en-Bresse, where he had also served as the
subdelegate of the intendant.38 As for Jacques Varenne himself, there is no
35 President Bouhier wrote a detailed Mémoire on the problem of cotes d’office in 1715–16, ADCO
C 3349. The quarrel was renewed during the reign of Louis XVI and will be discussed below.
36 For a more detailed discussion see Swann, ‘The Varenne affair’.
37 La Cuisine, Parlement de Bourgogne, ii, p. 395, n. 1. 38 Bourée, Chancellerie, pp. 76–8.
doubt that he possessed one of the sharpest legal minds in the kingdom.
Even historians who have denounced his methods have described him as ‘a
man of rare talents’,39 ‘capable, audacious’40 and possessing ‘a wonderfully
sharp mind’.41 So formidable were his skills as a polemicist that he could
easily hold his own with parlementaires such as Malesherbes and Charles
de Brosses, and the latter was so impressed that he even sought to enlist
the aid of Jean-Jacques Rousseau to write the remonstrances defending the
Parlement against his attacks.42
With such potential, it is hardly surprising that the young Varenne had
attracted the attention of local dignitaries. Following in the footsteps of
his father, Jacques acquired administrative knowledge while serving as the
subdelegate of the intendant in the Bresse.43 He was also taken under the
wing of the first president of the Parlement of Dijon, and it was with his
encouragement that the duc de Bourbon, governor of the province, wrote
in glowing terms to the élus in January 1730:
sirs, I have received such advantageous reports of sieur Jacques Varenne, avocat in
the Parlement of Dijon, that I believe I do not know of a better choice to fill the
vacant charge of conseil des états.44
Thus began a sparkling career in the service of the province, and the duc
was sufficiently satisfied to write again in May 1736 requesting the payment
of a pension worth 1,000 livres to Varenne.45 Further promotion followed
in November 1752 with his appointment to the office of secrétaire des états,
again with the backing of the governor, by now the duc’s son, the prince de
Condé.46 The esteem in which Varenne was held can be gauged by the will-
ingness of the Estates to create a third office of secrétaire des états for his son,
Antoine Varenne de Béost,47 a noted agronome and promoter of physio-
cratic doctrines,48 and to grant him the survivance on the office of his father.
The two men, together with Jacques’ other son, Varenne de Fénilles, who, in
addition to being a correspondant of the Académie des Sciences was a member
of the agricultural societies of Dijon, Lyon and Paris, formed a formidable
team that was well qualified to challenge the pretensions of the Parlement.49
39 La Cuisine, Parlement de Bourgogne, ii, p. 395. 40 Egret, L’opposition parlementaire, p. 145.

41 Foisset, Président de Brosses, p. 211. 42 Egret, L’opposition parlementaire, p. 147.
43 AN H1 123, dos. 2, fol. 98, ‘Mémoire contre l’établissement d’une troisième place de greffier secrétaire
des états de Bourgogne’.
44 ADCO C 3415, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 24 January 1730.
45 Ibid ., duc de Bourbon to the élus, 31 May 1736.
46 Ibid ., prince de Condé to the élus, 25 November 1752. 47 See chapter 4.
48 Bouchard, De l’Humanisme, pp. 847–52, discusses some of his plans for agricultural improvement.
49 See: P. Grosclaude, Malesherbes: témoin et interprète de son temps (Paris, 1961), pp. 480, 482–4; Foisset,
Président de Brosses, p. 216; and Egret, L’opposition parlementaire, p. 145.
By the mid-eighteenth century the great institutions of the king-
dom almost invariably contrived to publish their legal memoirs or
remonstrances,50 and with such an able champion at their disposal, it was
not surprising that the élus turned to Varenne’s legal and literary skills to
refute the arguments of the Parlement. The secrétaire des états drafted a
vigorous defence of the rights and privileges of the Estates that was ap-
proved unanimously when it was read to the chamber of élus on 23 January
1761.51 The memoir was subsequently published, sparking what proved to
be a lively and sophisticated debate about the history and constitution of
the province.52 Using his considerable knowledge to good effect, Varenne
challenged the prestige, authority and jurisdiction of the magistrates. On
the disputed question of consent to taxation, he argued that the dukes of
Burgundy had regularly assembled the three orders of the province in order
to demand a don gratuit, which once voted was collected by the élus.53 Rather
cuttingly he added that the Parlement had nothing to do with this proce-
dure: it did not exist. When the line of the dukes was extinguished, Louis
XI had confirmed the constitution, rights and privileges of the province,
and fiscal matters continued to be guided by the principle that ‘the king has
requested, the Estates have consented’, and he cited the don gratuit to prove
his point. This had always been agreed without any consultation with the
Parlement, and as a coup de grâce Varenne pointed out that the Estates had
petitioned Louis XI to establish the Parlement of Dijon in 1476.
By emphasising the historical importance of the Estates and the com-
paratively recent vintage of the Parlement, Varenne sought to reinforce the
pre-eminence of the élus over the judges. If they accepted his version of
provincial history, the parlementaires would have been at a distinct disad-
vantage. Instead they offered an alternative historical scenario drawn, in
part, from the fertile constitutional imagination of the Jansenist antiquar-
ian, Louis-Adrien Le Paige.54 In their published remonstrances of 16 March
50 In theory, remonstrances were for the king’s eyes only, but despite occasional grumbling the gov-
ernment seems to have realised that there was little it could do to prevent publication.
52 Varenne wrote a number of judicial requêtes and mémoires during the crisis. The most important,
which are analysed here, were the Mémoire pour les élus généraux des Etats du duché de Bourgogne
which was also signed by the comte de Vienne and dealt primarily with the issue of consent to
taxation, and his Mémoire pour les élus généraux des Etats du duché de Bourgogne contre le parlement
cour des aides de Dijon (Lyon, 1762), which was a revised version of his original memoir on cotes
d’office and nouveaux pieds de taille. It was published with a new preface in response to the Parlement’s
remonstrances of 16 March 1762.
53 ADCO C 3349, ‘Mémoire pour les élus généraux’, fols. 26–33.
54 Aspects of his career and writings are examined by: D. Van Kley, The Jansenists and the expulsion of
the Jesuits From France, 1757–1765 (New Haven, 1975); K. M. Baker, Inventing the French revolution.
Essays on French political culture in the eighteenth century (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 31–58, and, especially,
C. Maire, De la cause de dieu à la cause de la nation. Le jansénisme au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1998).
1762, they argued that the Parlement had been in existence for thirteen cen-
turies, and that long before the reign of its dukes Burgundy had been part
of the kingdom of France.55 Nor had Louis XI created the Parlement of
Dijon in the manner described by Varenne. The edict establishing the
court had been registered in the Parlement of Paris, which had transferred
its rights ‘to the new tribunal which was affiliated to it and was allotted
a part of its ancient territory’.56 In an important pamphlet, entitled Le
Parlement Outragé, which was published anonymously by a young council-
lor, Louis-Philibert-Joseph Joly de Bévy, this argument was pushed even fur-
ther. Joly invoked the theory of a union des classes to defend the Parlement of
Dijon with ideas that were little more than a paraphrase of Le Paige’s Lettres
Historiques.57
These arguments are significant for a number of reasons. The magistrates
had enthusiastically seized upon the theory of a union des classes, according
to which the different parlements formed part of a symbolic whole.58 By
pretending that there was only one Parlement with a thirteen-hundred-year
history, they were able to claim precedence over the Estates, whilst side-
stepping the awkward fact that their own institution dated from 1476. The
theory of a union des classes, developed by the Jansenists in Paris during their
struggle against Unigenitus, was thus adapted to defend the Parlement of
Dijon’s authority in the Burgundian context. As Louis XV had vehemently
and publicly reprimanded the Parlement of Paris for using similar language
in 1759, the Burgundian magistrates were presumably not thinking of influ-
encing their sovereign with these arguments.59 Instead, the remonstrances
were for public consumption both within the province, where they could
counteract the arguments of Varenne, and outside it where they could hope
to attract the support of other magistrates.
55 The remonstrances were printed and widely distributed in Burgundy, Paris and elsewhere in the
kingdom, ADCO C 3349, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon, 16 Mars 1762’.
56 ADCO C 3349, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon, 16 Mars 1762’.
57 BMD MS 778, ‘Le Parlement Outragé’, fols. 16–17, 20–3. The pamphlet is examined in detail
below. Joly wrote that the Parlement of Dijon ‘n’est ainsy que les autres parlements établis dans
les provinces, qu’un démembrement de celui de Paris, qui étoit autrefois unique et universel’, and
added ‘que les parlements, quoique dispersés en différentes classes, ne composent cependant qu’un
seul et même parlement. For a comparison with the text of Le Paige, see his Lettres historiques sur les
fonctions essentielles du parlement sur le droit des pairs et sur les loix fondamentales du royaume (2 vols.,
Amsterdam, 1753–4), i, pp. 153, 274, 313–14.
58 The theory of a union des classes has been examined by: R. Bickart, Les parlements et la notion de
souveraineté nationale au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1932), pp. 276–9; J. Egret, Le parlement de Dauphiné et
les affaires publiques dans la deuxième moitié du XVIIIe siècle, 2 vols. (Paris, 1942), i, pp. 91–2, 110–11,
252–5; and Swann, ‘Robe, sword and aristocratic reaction revisited’, pp. 153–7, 165–70.
59 The clash had occurred as a result of the Besançon affair which is discussed in J. Swann, ‘Parlements
and political crisis in France under Louis XV: the Besançon affair, 1757–1761’, Historical Journal 37
(1994), 803–28, esp. 815–16.
Not that the judges relied solely upon the fashionable theories of the
parlementaire opposition because in the same remonstrances they adopted
a stance that could be described as ‘more royalist than the king’. They argued
that with the death of the last duke, ‘the particular laws of the province
were extinguished’.60 The élus were, therefore, guilty of transforming the:
reunion of Burgundy to France in 1477 in to a kind of voluntary and free accession
on the part of the Estates of this province . . . they announce Burgundy as a country
under foreign rule reunited by Louis XI to the kingdom under certain conditions.
They continued by arguing that the events of 1477 were not in themselves
important: ‘Louis XI was not the author of this union’ because Burgundy
had been part of France since the time of the Frankish kings. They were,
therefore, vaunting the authority of the crown and the Parlement’s historic
role in upholding it, not defending the privileges or constitution of Bur-
gundy. The judges were not ill-disposed to the notion of provincial rights
and liberties, it simply suited their strategy to downplay their significance.
As Jean Richard has noted, they reversed their position in May 1788 and
used the ‘contract’ of 1477, that supposedly did not exist in 1762, to combat
Lamoignon’s reforms.61 It is a good example of the flexibility of the argu-
ments employed by the parlementaires, which were intended to reinforce
their position in a corporate struggle.
Varenne was unimpressed, declaring that if the parlementaires were cor-
rect the Parlement of Paris should have registered the fiscal and other laws
issued by the Valois dukes.62 Nor was he worried about publicly ridiculing
the pretensions of the magistrates. While admitting that it was not his place
to comment on the theory of a Parlement originating in the gothic mists,
he pointed out that most historians dated its establishment to the end of
the thirteenth century. Varenne was no less cutting in his analysis of the
constitutional claims of the judges. Quoting La Rocheflavin, he wrote that
legislative power ‘and all the other powers which form a government belong
uniquely and essentially to the king’, adding ‘si veut le roi, si veut la loi’.63
That phrase was one of the principal rallying cries of those authors who
defended the judicial reforms of chancellor Maupeou after 1771, and it is
not surprising that he tried to persuade Varenne to join their number.64

61 Richard, ‘Le parlement de Bourgogne’, 118.
62 ADCO C 3349, Mémoire pour les élus généraux, pp. 21–6. 63 Ibid. p. 23.
64 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, pp. 877. After being forced to resign from his office in Burgundy, Varenne
wrote his Histoire de la ligue en Bourgogne which attracted the approbation of the chancellor who
wanted to publish it in 1771.
The sarcastic, almost mocking tone of some of Varenne’s prose certainly
suggests that he was intellectually hostile to the constitutional claims of the
parlements. His colleague, the secrétaire des états, Bernard de Blancy, later
expressed similar sentiments in private. In a letter to Varenne, he poured
scorn on Joly de Bévy and other local parlementaires, and denounced the
ideas of the parlements generally, declaring that:
when, a few years ago, the Parlement of Rouen imagined the classes, it was necessary
to re-establish good order right away, for it revealed a dangerous association against
the state that will only be destroyed today with great difficulty, if it can be achieved
at all.65
It is not an exaggeration to talk of an ideological split between these per-
manent officers of the Estates and the parlementaires, and personal factors
may also have played a part. When pleading a lawsuit for the présidente
de La Marche in 1744, Varenne had attracted the ire of president Gagne de
Perrigny, a member of one of the principal robe dynasties in Dijon. In his
published reply, Gagne wrote:
an angry woman can say anything, an impudent hack can write anything; we laugh
at one and despise the other: neither are of any consequence.66
The opportunity to settle a few scores with Gagne and his colleagues prob-
ably added a dash of bile to Varenne’s quill, but, if so, his revenge was to
be bought at a very high price.
To an impartial observer, Varenne clearly held the upper hand when
it came to describing the historical origins of the Parlement of Dijon,
but we should not forget that the theory of a union des classes was taken
very seriously prior to the Maupeou reforms of 1771. The judges were,
however, able to muster some more telling arguments by emphasising the
discrepancy between Varenne’s theories and local administrative practice.
When disputing the need for registration in the Parlement, he had cited the
superior authority of the Estates. Yet, as we have seen, that body was only
in session for two or three weeks every three years, and when the secrétaire
des états wrote of the Estates in practical terms he meant the élus. It was
they who contracted the abonnements for taxes such as the capitation or
vingtièmes, which were always approved retrospectively. Rightly or wrongly,
they were accused of corruption, or, more tellingly, of despotism, and the
judges informed Louis XV that the élus were acting ‘as the sovereign arbiters
of the most important matters of which the Estates have neither expressed
65 AN H1 127, dos. 2, fol. 24, Bernard de Blancey to Varenne, 28 September 1763.

66 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, p. 812.
an opinion, nor ceded any power’.67 It was the élus who ‘leave Your Majesty
only the right to propose taxation; they dare to reserve to the votes of the
élus, or if one prefers the consent of the Estates, the force of sanction’.68
The authority of the élus more than matched that of intendants in the
pays d’élections, and they were vulnerable to similar criticisms. Yet attacking
the élus carried social and political risks that could not be treated lightly.
The chamber was staffed by members of the local noble and office-holding
elites, and if the magistrates launched a full-scale assault on their conduct
they risked provoking an angry reaction at the next meeting of the Estates,
scheduled for May 1763. Moreover, the judges were not hostile to the Estates
as such, and Varenne found himself cast as an ideal scapegoat. In their
remonstrances of July 1762, they claimed that ‘a rigorous inquisition’ left
the ordinary citizen at the mercy of ‘coups d’autorité, that an enemy of
the state would like to substitute for the lawful authority’ of king and
Parlement. Varenne was that ‘enemy’, and the élus were guilty of nothing
more serious than gullibility and inexperience. By attacking the secrétaire
en chef personally, and by accusing him of being the éminence grise behind
the quarrels about abonnements and cotes d’office, the Parlement could seek
to minimise its disagreement with the élus.
Here was the basis of what would become the classic criticism of the
élus, to be repeated regularly by would-be reformers before 1789 and by
subsequent historians ever since.69 According to the parlementaires, the élus
were well-intentioned, but ill-informed and thus prey to manipulation by
their permanent officials of whom Varenne was a perfect example. Varenne
had, in part, conjured the storm through his own actions, not least by
his willingness to question the sincerity of the Parlement’s motives in his
requête to the royal council that had secured the arrêt of 27 October 1761.70
He was scarcely more tactful in his published memoirs, writing that it
was the élus who deserved the gratitude of the province for negotiating
an advantageous abonnement in August 1760. He declared: ‘such is the
crime of which the élus have been found guilty, and for which they are
reproached with such bitterness [by] the Parlement which profits from
their labours and reaps the fruit of the favour they have obtained from the
goodness of the sovereign’.71 Varenne’s vaunting of the role played by the
élus in reducing the fiscal demands of the crown offers another illustration
of how Parlement and the Estates competed for public acclaim, but even
68 Ibid . 69 See chapters 4 and 12.
70 ADCO C 3349, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 7 Juillet 1762’.
71 Ibid ., ‘Mémoire pour les élus généraux’, p. 74.
if he had a good point he would have been wiser to leave these words
unsaid.
The magistrates were genuinely incensed by Varenne’s arguments and
this accounts, in large measure, for the quarrel transforming itself into a
vendetta. In January 1761, the anger of the parlementaires poured forth
in Joly de Bévy’s tract, the Le Parlement Outragé.72 When his printer was
arrested, Joly came forward and, after making a brief, noble speech to his
assembled colleagues, he resigned.73 The government was not mollified,
and a few days later he was arrested and imprisoned for eight months in the
Bastille. The offending pamphlet consisted of some thirty pages of character
assassination, directed at Varenne, plus a panegyric of the Parlement, which
he described as ‘a corps composed of all that is most grand’.74 As the title
suggests, Joly accused Varenne of insulting the court, but, more importantly,
of betraying its trust. It was alleged, not unreasonably, that it was the
patronage of the first president, which had allowed Varenne to transfer
from his original profession of avocat au parlement to ‘an employment
that is, in truth, lucrative but subaltern’75 in the Estates. By attacking
the Parlement, Varenne had turned upon his benefactors, or as Joly put
matters:
he ought, this boastful author, to be more imbued than anyone with respect and
veneration for the Parlement. Raised, so to speak, under its eyes, it is to the kindness
with which the Parlement admitted him into its sanctuary, to hear there his first
words, and to form them, that he is indebted for his rhetorical talent that it would
have been better for him and the good of the people to have suffocated at birth, if
it could have been foreseen that one day he would abuse it with such insolence.
Varenne had allegedly hoodwinked the élus, who, Joly claimed, had ‘no
part in this pretension, destructive of all good, of all liberty’, and their only
fault was in failing to stop him from causing further damage.76
It is true that Varenne was the author of the line that had so infuriated
the magistrates, but his offending requête had been signed by the élu of the
noblesse, the comte de Vienne. Moreover, it was Vienne, assisted by Varenne,
who had headed the deputations to Versailles on behalf of the Estates in
both the summer of 1760 and throughout much of 1762. Yet the judges
made no attempt to accuse him of collusion, and in their remonstrances of
72 BMD MS 778, ‘Le Parlement Outragé’. Similar, if less vehement criticisms of Varenne were published
in the ‘Mémoire sur les démélés actuelles du Parlement de Dijon avec les élus généraux de la province
de Bourgogne’ which appeared a few months later, ADCO C 3349. It was written by Guenichot de
Nogent, a local magistrate.
73 Foisset, Président de Brosses, pp. 212–13. 74 BMD MS 778, ‘Le Parlement Outragé’, fols. 4–5.
75 Ibid., fol. 1. 76 Ibid., fols. 7–9.
7 July 1762 they made a direct appeal to Vienne and the nobility, declaring
that they should be indignant to see:
an author [Varenne], so little suited to be its voice claim that title. If it [the nobility]
is distressed, it is with us, Sire, when it reads the name of a subaltern alongside
that of a gentleman of high birth, whose qualities and those of his forefathers, are
equally respected in the chamber of the nobility and in the Parlement.77
Varenne was, therefore, a social upstart, a ‘clerk’ who had tried to rise above
his station and break the natural harmony between the Parlement and the
Burgundian noblesse.
In their published remonstrances and pamphlets, the magistrates re-
vealed their contempt for the humble secrétaire des états and lauded their
own aristocratic pretensions as part of a strategy designed to persuade the
nobility to abandon their dangerous protégé and place themselves under
the protection of the Parlement. In Brittany after 1750, there were signs
of an alliance between the nobility in the Estates and the local parlemen-
taires.78 The potential for such cooperation certainly existed in Burgundy.
The second estate of the province was a tight knit group, and the comte
de Vienne’s father had been a conseiller d’honneur in the Parlement, while
some magistrates went directly into the Estates after resigning their office.
During the crisis, at least one attempt was made by the magistrates to influ-
ence the forthcoming assembly of the Estates. In December 1762, informal
contacts were established with the alcades, who were supplied with material
about the affair in the hope that they would censure Varenne.79 The alcades
refused, but if the Varenne affair failed to produce an alliance between the
Estates and the Parlement to match that in Brittany, it nevertheless acted
as a catalyst on the thinking of the local elite. The senior magistrate, Févret
de Fontette, who represented the Parlement in the negotiations with the
ministry to end the crisis during 1762, wrote at length about the attitude
of his colleagues towards the Estates.80 He argued that since the time of
Louis XIV, the Estates had failed to assert their privileges and whenever an
77 ADCO C 3349, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 7 Juillet 1762’. No less than 1,500 copies
of these remonstrances were printed by the Parlement and they were sent to Louis XV, the dauphin,
the king’s ministers, magistrates and lawyers in Paris and Dijon and crucially to the members of the
chamber of the noblesse in the Estates of Burgundy, BMD MS 1621, fol. 95.
78 For the situation in Brittany, see Marion, La Bretagne et le duc d’Aiguillon; Pocquet, D’Aiguillon et
La Chalotais; and Rebillon, États de Bretagne, pp. 338, 369.
79 AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’. This claim was made by Varenne, but the reaction
of the government prior to the Estates of 1763 suggests that he was correct.
80 ADCO C 3349, ‘Second projet de réponse de m. le chancelier au nom du roy au remontrances du
Parlement de Dijon’. Throughout Fontette laments the failure of the Estates to reclaim their ancient
rights.
attempt had been made to do so they had been silenced. It was the
Parlement, which was permanently in session, that had assumed responsi-
bility for protecting the interests of the province and its inhabitants. As long
as the Estates remained quiescent, only the Parlement could fulfil this role
because the élus were administrators or ‘economes’ with no other authority
than that invested in them by the Estates.
re ac t i o n i n d i j o n
The desire to avoid a serious split with the actual membership of the Estates
ensured that Varenne would be the chief target of the Parlement of Dijon.81
In their unremitting campaign against him, the judges were anxious to claim
the support of the wider public. Within the province there is no doubt that
they held the upper hand. Joly de Bévy’s Le Parlement Outragé first appeared
in manuscript form during the Christmas celebrations of December 1761.82
Distribution was primitive, but effective: ‘at night it was thrown furtively in
to the courtyards and drives of houses. It is even said that fourteen copies
were thrown in to the courtyard of Varenne’. There was soon a healthy
demand, and according to one observer the pamphlets were exchanging
hands at one louis per copy.83
If Joly de Bévy was hoping to arouse popular support for the Parlement
he seems to have succeeded. Varenne was widely denounced as ‘the Catilina
of Burgundy’,84 and in his own version of events, he admitted that:
the sieur Varenne was menaced with stoning, with burning, he and his family
in their house, his servants were insulted in the streets, and he had cause to fear
becoming the victim of the blind rage of an unthinking populace.85
Similar angry scenes followed the public burning of his revised memoir on
7 June 1762, which the Parlement turned into a piece of political theatre.
Large crowds gathered, filling the squares and even roofs of the town,86 in
order to watch the ceremony, almost certainly with the encouragement of
the parlementaires, who were sufficiently proud of their supporters to refer
to them in their remonstrances. They crowed about ‘the crowds of people’
81 The judges were careful to flatter the Estates and the nobility for being penetrated by ‘l’esprit d’équité
et de patriotisme’, ADCO C 3349, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 7 Juillet 1762’.
82 BMD MS 912, fols. 123–32. 83 Ibid., fol. 132.
84 G. Dumay, ed., Mercure Dijonnois, p. 174.
85 ADCO C 3349, ‘Premières personalités contre le Sr Varenne’, and AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire
contenant un précis’.
86 Even Varenne, who can have drawn no pleasure from the fact, noted the presence of large crowds
on 7 June, AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
that had attended the spectacle and referred to the popular ‘joy’ at seeing
the downfall of their enemy.87
As in other provincial crises, such as the Besançon or Brittany affairs,88 the
magistrates ostracised their opponents. All social contact with the members
of the chamber of élus was forbidden and ‘the proscription . . . was extended
to their wives, children and even their servants’.89 When the Parlement re-
sumed its service in March 1763, the emotional hold of the magistrates over
the local population was strikingly reaffirmed. During three weeks of cele-
brations ‘the boutiques remained closed all day, and at night the Dijonnais
manifested their joy by illuminating their houses, lighting bonfires and by
throwing firecrackers. On 5 March the theatre played for free . . .’.90 Dif-
ferent quarters of the town competed to build elaborate loges, decorated
with the arms of Burgundy and the House of Bourbon-Condé, and embla-
zoned with ‘Long Live the King, Long Live the Parlement’.91 At night, the
wealthy dined on the upper floor of the loge Saint Nicolas, while an orches-
tra played music for their entertainment and for that of the people who
danced and drank in the streets below. On 10 March, a triumphal chariot,
pulled by six horses and filled by 24 ‘nymphs’, made a tour of Dijon, throw-
ing sugared almonds to the crowd and stopping to distribute laurels to the
parlementaires. In the course of these festivities, odes, songs and ditties were
composed, some in local patois, to praise the Parlement.92 When Clément
Perrier, a clumsy partygoer, accidentally shot his hand off while saluting
the magistrates, his misfortune was put to good effect. Within hours, the
city was being entertained by an impromptu verse about the tragic hand of
Perrier lost as it ‘took part in the hour of the patrie’.93
Not surprisingly, Varenne told a very different story, alleging that at
least one magistrate informed his family that he would not be secure in
Dijon, even with a ‘safe conduct’ signed by the king.94 In these circum-
stances Varenne and his son were obliged to flee the province and shelter
at Versailles. In lurid terms he recorded their plight:95
87 ADCO C 3349, remonstrances of 7 July 1762. They also noted their satisfaction at seeing ‘la voix
du peuple si généralement, si ouvertement déclarée’.
88 Swann, ‘The Besançon affair’. 89 ADCO C 3349, ‘Premières personalités’.
90 Dumay, ‘Une session des états’, 11. These festivities were typical of the displays of local solidarity
with the provincial parlementaires before 1771. Other examples include the celebrations after similar
crises in Besançon and Rennes, Swann, ‘The Besançon affair’, 824–5.
91 BMD MS 1620, fols. 168–171.
92 For a sample, BMD MS 912, fols. 193–9, and MS 2326, fols. 211–31.
93 Ibid ., fol. 199, ‘Impromptu. Sur la main de Clément Perrier, emportée par un coup de pistolet le
1er mars 1763 à l’occasion des rejouissances pour la rentrée du parlement’.
94 AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’. 95 Ibid.
they never ceased to accuse them, slanderously, of facts, words, speeches that they
had never even thought of. The very serenity of their faces was a crime, the modest
confidence born of a clear conscience was attributed to arrogance and bravado.
Even if Varenne exaggerated somewhat, it is clear that Dijon was ex-
tremely agitated on several occasions during the crisis. Moreover, it was
the parlementaires who were able to count upon public support, not the
élus, nor even the Estates. The judicial strike which continued uninter-
rupted from February 1762 until March 1763 was clearly a significant cause
of local solidarity with the magistrates.96 Dijon was socially and economi-
cally beholden to the Parlement, whose members were some of the largest
employers, directly or indirectly, and who counted amongst the most sub-
stantial landowners in the surrounding countryside.97
There was, however, more than just noblesse oblige and material interest
behind support for the Parlement, and we should beware of the assump-
tion that local people followed the magistrates blindly in their campaigns.
Micault, author of the Mercure dijonnais and agrégé in law, believed that
the arguments of Varenne were superior to those of the Parlement, and sug-
gested that it was to win back public support that Joly de Bévy launched
such a personal attack on his opponent in Le Parlement Outragé.98 In an-
other subtle analysis of the Varenne affair, Jean-Edmé Durande, avocat in
the Parlement of Dijon and mayor of the city under Napoléon, wrote that:99
I do not accept the theory of the Parlement entirely, and I feel that the élus, levying
the taille and [exercising] the functions of the intendants, have the same power and
the same authority, that they have the right to issue cotes d’office, that opposition to
these taxes is of their cognisance, and that appeals in this matter must be sent to the
Parlement Cour des Aides. That is my opinion, I doubt that it will be heeded; the
credit of the élus will prevail and the poor Burgundians, fearing to plead in a distant
tribunal at great expense, will prefer to carry the yoke that it has pleased the élus
to impose rather than to complain.
Durande was an informed member of the public, who was respectful of
the authority of the two contestants, and he favoured the Parlement’s po-
sition in the dispute on cotes d’office on the perfectly reasonable grounds
that Burgundians would otherwise be obliged to plead their appeals in
96 The Parlement contributed 10,000 livres to the hardship fund for those members of the legal
profession most affected by the strike, BMD MS 1621, fol. 95.
97 The classic studies are: Roupnel, La ville et la campagne; and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne.
98 According to Bouchard, De l’humanisme, p. 533, n. 3, pp. 871–2, he wrote: ‘nous avoue que si
le Parlement, comme il fallait s’y attendre, conservait dans son parti un grand nombre de gens
distingués, les raisons de ses adversaires semblaient meilleure que les siennes’.
99 Quoted in d’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 29–30. Durande discussed the Varenne affair as
part of his broader examination of the taille in the province.
Paris. He also inadvertently highlighted one of the principal causes of the
unpopularity of the Estates. By the middle of the eighteenth century, the
élus were viewed as the agents of the government, performing in Burgundy
the tasks allotted to the intendants in the pays d’élections.100 This, when
combined with the infrequent assemblies of the Estates, left the Parlement
alone as the only permanent institution willing and able to criticise royal
fiscal policy, and for all their undoubted faults the judges were appreciated
for performing a worthwhile role. Thus despite the vivacity and pertinence
of the arguments employed by Varenne and the élus, they had lost the battle
for public opinion in the province.
t h e i n t e rve n t i o n o f t h e par is ia ns
While the battle raged in Burgundy, a campaign of another sort was being
fought in Paris and at Versailles. After the publication of the Parlement’s
remonstrances of 16 March 1762, Bertin and Saint-Florentin urged Varenne
and the comte de Vienne to reply.101 Varenne was happy to oblige. He revised
his earlier judicial memoir on cotes d’office and added a forthright new
preface defending the élus against the charges of the magistrates, which was
published in Lyon in April 1762. Despite the presence of his distinguished
patrons, Varenne would have been wise to decline their invitation. The
original judicial brief was legally untouchable; but once published it fell
into the public domain.102 Worst still for Varenne, Lyon was part of the
jurisdiction of both the Parlement and the Cour des Aides of Paris. He had
unwittingly presented his enemies with a golden opportunity, and they
were quick to pounce.
On 5 May 1762, the Cour des Aides of Paris condemned Varenne’s revised
Mémoire on cotes d’office to be lacerated and burnt by the public execu-
tioner. The court pursued its attack on 26 May by summoning Varenne
and ordering the arrest of Desventes and of Louis Buisson, who had respec-
tively printed and sold the offending manuscript in Lyon. In a concerted
attack, the Parlement of Dijon sentenced the same text to a similar fate on
7 June.103 The intervention of the Cour des Aides was the result of lobbying
from Dijon and its own jurisdictional interest. Varenne’s memoir had been
published in its ressort and affected cotes d’office in the comtés of Mâcon,
Auxerre and Bar-sur-Seine. If pushed to its logical limits, his argument
100 Legay, Les états provinciaux, has identified a similar pattern elsewhere.
101 AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
102 This important point was emphasised by Foisset, Président de Brosses, p. 211.
103 The government evoked all cases arising from the memoir to the Requêtes de l’Hôtel.
would have meant that the élus rather than the Cour des Aides heard appeals
against cotes d’office there too.104
In a period when the parlements were increasingly assertive, the action
of the Cour des Aides appeared to herald the start of a concerted campaign
on behalf of the Parlement of Dijon. Rather than leave their fate to chance,
however, the Burgundians thought it wise to send signals of their distress. In
June 1762, the abbé Boullemier, director of the public library of Dijon105 and
a protégé of president Févret de Fontette, was sent on a clandestine mission
to Paris. Travelling under the alias of ‘l’abbé de la Magdelaine’, he was to
enter into contact with ‘the painter’ [procureur général of the Cour des Aides],
‘the wheelwright’ [avocat général of the Cour des Aides], ‘M. Capperonnier’
[Drouin de Vaudeuil] and other unlikely characters.106 They were then to
organise the denunciation and prosecution of the ‘berline’ [mémoire on
cotes d’office] and of its author ‘the jeweller’ [Varenne] by both the ‘gilder’
[Cour des Aides] and the ‘king’s library’ [Parlement of Paris].107 With Joly de
Bévy languishing in the Bastille and the Parlement confined within the city
walls of Dijon, these elaborate precautions were not quite as ridiculous as
they seem. What they confirm is the complicity of the Parlement of Dijon
and the Cour des Aides and their joint desire to enlist the support of the
Parlement of Paris.108
In order for that court to become engaged in the affair, it was necessary
to find a Parisian magistrate willing to ‘denounce’ government policy in
Burgundy.109 Drouin de Vaudeuil was, on the surface, a good choice.110
He was a rather pompous individual, on the fringes of the Parlement’s
parti janséniste, who was only too pleased to show his ‘love for the pub-
lic good’.111 In addition to approaching Drouin, the Burgundians revealed
an astute awareness of how the Parlement of Paris functioned by sending
Boullemier for an audience with Louis-Adrien Le Paige, who was already
informed about the ‘berline’.112 One could be forgiven for assuming that
104 There was no financial interest because these cases were heard without épices, see the memoir of
president Bouhier on this aspect, ADCO C 3349.
105 Bouchard, De l’Humanisme, p. 579.
106 BMD MS 912, fol. 142. There are a number of bulletins from Boullemier sent from Paris to the
‘marchand’ [Fontette] during the summer of 1762. Thankfully one of them subsequently had the
good grace to provide details of the code.
107 Ibid .
108 Malesherbes stated this explicitly in a letter to Fontette written during July 1762, ibid., fols. 152–3.
109 The procedure is explained in Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 62–6.
110 For details of Drouin’s career, ibid., pp. 100, 137, 139, 293–4, 297–8.
111 Drouin explained his motives in a letter to the Parlement of Dijon, ADCO C 3349, 17 October
1762.
112 BMD MS 912, fol. 148, anon to l’abbé de la Magdelaine [Boullemier], 13 June 1762.
a denunciation was inevitable, and Boullemier informed the ‘merchant’
[Fontette] on 14 June that Capperonnier [Drouin] had prepared ‘his cat-
alogue [denunciation] . . . of which he hopes for great success’ and that he
had approached the ‘head librarian’ [first président Molé] as a final courtesy
before addressing the ‘library’ [Parlement of Paris].113
Despite all of their efforts, the magistrates in Dijon would be disap-
pointed and no denunciation of their treatment would ever be heard in the
Parlement of Paris. According to Boullemier:114
the librarian’s reply was not quite what M. Capperonnier had hoped. He seems
fearful of the catalogue because of the many affairs that the library is already
involved with, and he has asked for a delay of at least two months.
Molé was under pressure from Bertin to keep his colleagues out of the
affair, and Drouin was, to a certain extent, the dupe of the minister. Bertin
had the good sense to invite Drouin to prepare projects for the resolution
of the crisis, which he diligently produced. When these were subsequently
rejected by the Parlement of Dijon, Drouin was sufficiently honourable to
inform the Burgundians that ‘it would not be decent if I denounced with
éclat the very ideas I have, you might say, dictated’.115
Yet if Drouin was in this predicament his colleagues were not, and anyone
of them could have delivered the speech needed to set the Parlement of Paris
in motion. They chose not to do so, in part, because they had bigger fish to
fry. Many of the most influential, and often troublesome, members of the
Parlement were busily dislodging the remaining foundations of the Society
of Jesus.116 They were doing so with the compliance of a ministry that had
effectively coopted them into government.117 Bertin was not only using
Drouin to tackle the Varenne affair because during the autumn of 1762 he
had also established a committee, headed by an extremely reluctant Daniel
Charles Trudaine, to resolve the crisis.118 Amongst those taking part in these
negotiations were Bertin, the prince de Condé, the chancellor, Malesherbes,
the gens du roi of the Cour des Aides, Molé, Drouin and those stalwarts of
the Parisian parti janséniste, Clément de Feillet, Murard and L’Averdy.119
To the immense disappointment of their colleagues in Dijon, the
Parisians remained unimpressed by many of their arguments, and when the
Burgundians threatened to reject a proposed settlement in January 1763 an
113 Ibid ., fol. 143, bulletins of 14 and 16 June 1762. 114 Ibid ., fol. 144, bulletin of 18 June 1762.
115 ADCO C 3349, Drouin de Vaudeuil to the Parlement of Dijon, 17 October 1762.
116 Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits. 117 Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 206–17.
118 BMD MS 912, fols. 169–70, Trudaine to Fontette, 20 November 1762. Trudaine informed Fontette
that ‘quant à moi, vous sçavez, que c’est malgré moi que je suis entré dans la discussion de cette
affaire’.
119 Ibid ., fol. 204, Chevignard to Fontette, 26 April 1763, and BMD MS 1620, fol. 167.
open split seemed likely. It would be difficult to exaggerate the aggrieved
and angry tones in which Drouin tore into his Burgundian colleagues for
trying to ‘treat with the king as equals’, and for their ‘inflexibility’ over the
issue of abonnements.120 He claimed that they were quibbling unnecessarily
and came close to accusing the Parlement of wanting to usurp the rights
and prerogatives of the Estates. In a bid to force the judges back to the line
of duty, he wrote:121
what . . . will the public think when they realise that you have refused to resume
your duties, that you only ceased because you claim that your honour and dignity
were attacked (for that was the real motive behind your cessation), that you refuse,
I repeat, to resume [your service] when the king has satisfied you in this respect?
Drouin was not alone in reminding the Burgundians of these home
truths,122 and it gradually dawned upon them that they would not win
any major concessions on either the abonnements or cotes d’office. What
they were offered instead was the head of their enemy. As Drouin described
matters, they should not allow other considerations to prevent them from
avenging the province and their corps for the ‘wrong that Varenne had done
them’.123
c r i s i s re s o lu t i o n
None of the Parisian magistrates in either the Cour des Aides or Parlement
had any qualms about using a sacrificial offering to save the Parlement
of Dijon’s face, and Molé, Malesherbes, Clément de Feillet and Drouin
joined in pursuit of what president Charles de Brosses sportingly termed
the ‘game’.124 It was in the course of this offensive that de Brosses wrote
to Rousseau imploring him to write remonstrances for the Parlement: ‘this
task, glorious in itself, worthy of your noble liberty and of the eloquence
that you employ only for the good of humanity’.125 His appeal failed and
a reluctant de Brosses had to take up the burden himself. In a letter to his
cousin he lamented that ‘I have become a victim of the public good, that
one gains nothing by serving’.126 With tongue presumably firmly in cheek,
he described his task:
120 BMD MS 912, fols. 175–7, Drouin to Fontette, 2 February 1763. 121 Ibid., fol. 177.
122 Ibid ., fols. 177–8, Fontette to Trudaine, 6 February 1763. Fontette admitted that the Parisians ‘nous
grondent très serieusement’.
123 Ibid ., fol. 177, Drouin to Fontette, 2 February 1763.
124 Ibid ., fol. 178, de Brosses to Courtois, 25 April 1763.
125 Quoted in Bouchard, De l’humanisme, pp. 861–3.
126 Y. Bézard, Lettres du président de Brosses à Ch. C. Loppin de Gemeaux (Paris, 1929), p. 297, de Brosses
to Gemeaux, 3 January 1763.
the rights of the Estates, the privileges of the province, the usurpations of the élus,
the wrongs of the ministry. What a vast field! I locked myself away. I have written
a little quarto that is a real masterpiece: demonstrative, anti-Bertin, anti-Vienne,
anti-Varenne. It has worn me out and bored me to death. Thankfully it will not
bore the others, for I am the dupe of my kind heart.
Such worldly irony was characteristic of de Brosses and we need to avoid
putting too much emphasis on his professed boredom because he was no
less committed than his colleagues to pursue Varenne.
Negotiations to end the Parlement’s judicial strike finally came to fruition
in March 1763. On the issue of abonnements, there was scope for com-
promise. The élus conserved their traditional right to negotiate financial
commissions and contract abonnements, although the government agreed
that, in future, they would not precede registration in the Parlement. What
this meant, in fact, was a return to the status quo that had existed prior to
the dispute of August and September 1760. Nor did the Parlement make
any headway on either cotes d’office or nouveaux pieds de taille. The ministry
was content to wait until tempers had cooled, and then issued an arrêt du
conseil confirming the right of the élus to order cotes d’office in 1765, while
leaving the door theoretically open by allowing the Parlement to prepare
memoirs outlining possible reforms of the practice. This was scant reward
for all the effort invested by the Parlement since the autumn of 1761, and
for the judges to emerge from the crisis with honour they needed to be able
to display Varenne’s scalp.
After their initial attempts to prosecute the secrétaire en chef for publish-
ing his memoir on cotes d’office in May and June of 1762 both the Parlement
of Dijon and the Cour des Aides had been quietened by a combination of
government attempts at evocation and negotiations for a wider settlement.
The Parlement’s resumption of ordinary judicial service in March 1763 was
followed by letters patent annulling all procedures connected to the dis-
puted memoir, but they had little effect. Encouraged by the Burgundians,
the Cour des Aides ordered Varenne’s arrest on 13 May,127 and began a new
investigation into charges of suborning witnesses against Varenne de Béost.
On 24 May, it ordered a search of Varenne’s property in Dijon, and, on
19 June, it summoned him for interrogation at Versailles, where he was
sheltering under orders from the king.
127 For reasons that remain obscure the court simultaneously issued a ‘décret d’assigné pour être
ouı̈’ against his publisher Buisson and a ‘décret de prise de corps’ in the case of Desventes. Such
inconsistent treatment of the three accused provided Varenne with one of his most telling arguments
against what he perceived as the biased, even vindicative, conduct of the Cour des Aides, AN K 709,
dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
When subjected to the sustained and coordinated attack of the Parlement
of Dijon and its allies in the magistrature, the élus were at a disadvantage.
They did, however, maintain an almost permanent deputation, headed
by the comte de Vienne, at Versailles, where they hoped that ministerial
support would counterbalance the pyrotechnics of their opponents. They
were also aided by the unwavering support of the prince de Condé, who
made an unequivocal statement of his own position by securing the Order
of Saint-Michel for his protégé, Varenne, in March 1762. In October, the
prince sent a letter to the secrétaire des états,128 praising his efforts on behalf
of the Estates and expressly forbidding him to resign. The prince made
no secret of his position, and he sharply criticised the magistrates when
they solicited his support in April 1762.129 Unbeknown to Varenne, he had
an even more illustrious protector because in June 1762 Louis XV had in-
formed the chancellor that he did not wish to see Varenne interrogated
by the Cour des Aides. The king added in his own enigmatic style: ‘I have
reasons for that which are close to my heart’.130 Unfortunately for Varenne,
in the summer of 1763 the personal backing of Louis XV was almost
worthless.131
With the government struggling to overcome the hostility of the par-
lements to post-war taxation,132 the king soon proved incapable of making
good his earlier promise to protect Varenne. He did summon Malesherbes
for a reprimand on 9 June 1763, and letters patent were issued confirming
the evocation of the affair to the Requêtes de l’Hôtel, but to no avail.133
The Cour des Aides simply ignored the measure and Varenne turned in
desperation to the Conseil des Dépêches, which promulgated further letters
annulling all procedures against him. Thinking that he was finally free
from the clutches of his enemies, Varenne, his son and Desventes agreed to
attend the Cour des Aides on 29 August.134 Such were the passions aroused
by the affair that Malesherbes and his colleagues deliberately twisted the
nature of the ceremony. Rather than simply registering lettres d’abolition de
procedures criminelles of the accusations against the three men, they acted as
if the king had issued lettres de grâce pardoning them for a serious criminal
128 AN K 709, dos. 5, Condé to Varenne, 9 October 1762.

129 BMD MS 912, fol. 136, Condé to the Parlement of Dijon, 11 April 1762.
130 Grosclaude, Malesherbes, p. 218, n. 20.
131 Antoine, Louis XV , passim has attempted to rehabilitate the reputation of the king. Despite his
efforts, the impression of a fundamentally weak and indecisive ruler persists.
132 Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 218–49, and D. Hudson, ‘The parlementary crisis of 1763 in
France and its consequences’, Canadian Journal of History 7 (1972), 97–117.
133 ADCO C 3349, ‘Premières personalités’, and AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
134 The letters patent were dated 25 August 1763, AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’.
offence.135 As a result, Varenne was obliged to remove his hat and kneel in
the centre of the court. Once the formalities were completed Malesherbes,
turned towards him and declared:
Varenne, the king has granted you letters of pardon, the court ratifies them: go
away, your penalty is remitted, but your crime is not.136
With such a humiliating and public rebuke, the Cour des Aides avenged
the judges in Dijon for the perceived insult by Varenne, and helped to
compensate them for the fact that they had lost the battle over cotes d’office.
As for Varenne, his position was now perilous, and with the crown desperate
to end the quarrel his only hope lay with the Estates that were due to
assemble in November.137
Throughout the crisis the prince de Condé had shown his partiality for
both Varenne and the élus, and his anger was underlined by the remarkable
decision to convoke the Estates of 1763 in Autun.138 For the first time since
1658, when the Estates had fallen foul of Louis XIV, the meeting was held
outside of Dijon. Contemporaries were under no illusions about the cause
of the move, which was a thinly veiled rebuke for both the Parlement and
the public of the city.139 According to the secrétaire des états, Bernard de
Blancey, ‘the city of Dijon deserves to be deprived of the prince’s presence
and of the profits that he would have brought: the wild joy that it expressed
for an imaginary triumph of the Parlement merits a real misfortune, for
which its gullibility has not yet been sufficiently punished’.140 In their
correspondence, Bernard and Varenne vented their anger against Joly de
Bévy, Fontette and the parlements generally, but even the news of the move
to Autun brought them little comfort. There was no sign of support within
the Estates for the beleaguered secrétaire. Instead, the autumnal air was thick
with rumours about plots and conspiracies designed to rouse the Estates
on behalf of the Parlement.
The government took the threat extremely seriously, and much of the
preparation for the assembly involved drafting secret instructions for the
135 ADCO C 3349, ‘Lettres patentes du 25 Août 1763’, and the ‘Arrêt de la Cour des Aides du 29 Août
1763’.
136 La Cuisine, Parlement de Bourgogne, ii, p. 408, n. 1.
137 ADCO C 3349, Saint-Florentin to Varenne, 15 September 1763. He informed Varenne that the
judges had admitted his innocence and that he should not worry about the judicial forms as they
were following the ordinance of 1670. A letter from Saint-Florentin to the comte de Vienne, dated
October 1763, confirms that the government wanted a speedy conclusion to the affair, BMD MS
1621, fol. 96.
138 Dumay, ‘Une session des états’, 1–88, provides a colourful description of the assembly.
139 Ibid ., 3.
140 AN H1 127, dos. 2, fol. 24, Bernard de Blancey to Varenne, 28 September 1763. See also ibid .,
fol. 22, ‘Extrait d’une lettre ecritte de Dijon à M. Varenne secrétaire des états, le 8 7bre 1763’.
governor to be used in the event of trouble. Amongst these papers were
a number of memoirs and anonymous letters accusing a group headed
by Bouhier de Versalieux of seeking to ‘excite trouble in the order of the
noblesse’.141 Bouhier and his ‘party’ had allegedly been travelling around the
province trying to drum up support for a full-scale attack on the provincial
administration that would involve a series of reforms based on the model
of the provincial estates of Brittany, with a commission intérmediaire to
replace the chamber of élus and the establishment of an office of procureur
général syndic. In Brittany, the Estates, and especially the nobility, had
maintained much closer control over those acting in their name, something
that had presumably struck a chord in Burgundy.142 It is also clear that the
remonstrances written by Malesherbes for the Cour des Aides in July 1762,
which had been widely disseminated in the province, had led some to
question the conduct of the local administration.143 To counter the threat,
the prince de Condé was sent to Autun with a sheaf of blank lettres de cachet
and orders to prevent innovations of any kind. Indeed so nervous was the
ministry that it further stipulated that ‘if, despite the interdictions, they [the
chambers] persist in wanting to deliberate on these matters, then in these
circumstances the prince de Condé will dissolve the assembly immediately
and will inform His Majesty by a courier that he will dispatch to this
effect’.144
In November 1763, the fortunes of Louis XV’s government were at their
lowest ebb, and these precautions were understandable, if rather excessive.
Not for the last time, the governor would show his political skills, defusing
the tensions in Autun without needing to resort to any of the draconian
measures referred to above. According to the treasurer general, Rigoley
d’Ogny, the prince had succeeded in preventing trouble ‘without appearing
to compromise the liberty of the Estates’.145 Varenne was unable to share in
the general sense of relief, and both he and his son were obliged to resign in
December 1763, while their chief antagonist, Joly de Bévy, returned to his
office in the Parlement during April 1764.146 To add insult to injury, the new
élus, appointed at the Estates of November 1763, distanced themselves from
Varenne, and even refused to pay his expenses incurred whilst at Versailles
141 AN H1 127, dos. 2, fol. 15, ‘Observations pour monseigneur [Condé]’, and ibid., fol. 11, 14–15,
‘Projet d’instruction’, and ‘Projet d’instruction sécrette pour m. le prince de Condé’.
142 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, pp. 290–1, 460–3, 471–6.
143 AN H1 127, dos. 2, fol. 15, ‘Observations pour monseigneur [Condé]’.
144 Ibid ., fol. 12, ‘Projet d’instruction’.
145 Ibid ., fol. 55, Rigoley d’Ogny to Bertin, 4 December 1763.
146 The Parlement also forced Rigoley d’Ogny to choose between his position as treasurer general and
his office of councillor in the Parlement, in effect forcing him to quit, BMD MS 912, fol. 216, arrêté
of 2 August 1763.
on provincial business.147 Only the prince de Condé showed any loyalty
to his disgraced protégé, securing for him an ‘extraordinary payment’ of
10,000 livres and the office of receveur général of the Estates of Brittany
in 1766.148 Years later, in 1785, the prince revealed his continuing affection
for the family by sending his portrait to the Varenne.149 It was a small
consolation prize for a man who had played for high stakes and lost.
t h e co l d wa r
As the smoke of battle cleared, the chamber of élus and the Parlement
of Dijon found themselves occupying much the same ground as before.
The crown had upheld the administrative and jurisdictional competence
of the élus, but the fall of Varenne offered a warning that power needed to
be exercised with restraint relative to the interests of the Parlement. As for
the judges, they were able to draw comfort from the public support they
had mustered in Dijon which was, in part, the result of their ability to pose
as the defenders of the taxpayer against those charged with overseeing the
fiscal administration. As for the assembly of the Estates, it had been carefully
managed by the governor, and there was never any serious danger of an al-
liance with the Parlement, or of a strong campaign for internal reforms. The
continuing division of Parlement and the Estates was revealed in 1771, when
chancellor de Maupeou implemented his notorious revolution.150 The Par-
lement of Dijon, along with the other sovereign courts, was remodelled and
a small number of its members exiled, and the prince de Condé himself
suffered temporary disgrace for opposing the chancellor. It is true that
Maupeou’s reforms in Dijon caused less conflict than elsewhere,151 but both
the élus and the Estates of 1772 remained silent, presumably because of their
lack of sympathy for the magistrates.152
The legacy of the Varenne affair was a form of cold war between the
two corps, and the reign of Louis XVI would bring further clashes. On
1 December 1783, the élus published a long deliberation reforming the
147 ADCO C 3354, fol. 267, élus to L’Averdy, 6 December 1764.

148 148 AN K 709, dos. 5, ‘Mémoire contenant un précis’. It was in order to justify his conduct to the
Estates of Brittany that Varenne wrote his own version of the troubles in Burgundy.
149 Dumay, ‘Une session des états’, 12–13, n. 2.
150 For details of the events of 1771, see: W. Doyle, ‘The parlements of France’; D. Echeverria, The
Maupeou revolution. A study in the history of libertarianism (Baton Rouge, 1985); Egret, L’opposition
parlementaire, pp. 182–228; and Swann, Politics and the parlement, pp. 314–68.
151 The threat of being replaced by the Chambre des Comptes persuaded the majority of magistrates to
remain at their posts, rather than resign, La Cuisine, Parlement de Bourgogne, iii, pp. 285–321.
152 Neither the chambers of the Estates, nor the alcades stirred in 1772, ADCO C 3009, and C 3302.
administration of the taille in the province.153 The Parlement reacted angrily,
claiming that the élus had based their ordinance upon laws that had not
been registered in Dijon.154 With both sides making explicit connections to
the Varenne affair, the crown acted decisively by issuing an arrêt du conseil,
dated 14 June 1784, confirming the rights of the élus. The Parlement picked
up the gauntlet, composing a series of remonstrances, declaring that:
in 1762, the Parlement pleaded the cause of the peoples of its jurisdiction, it de-
fended the constitutional right of the French nation, only to recognise edicts, decla-
rations and letters patent that have first been verified and registered in Parlement.155
To support their claims, the judges once again sought to establish their
own superiority over the Estates through historical argument. Rather than
rehearse the now largely discredited doctrine of the union des classes,156 they
turned to the work of president Hénault, arguing that just as the Parlement
of Paris was superior to the Estates General, so too was the Parlement of
Dijon to the Estates of Burgundy.157
The conflict was exacerbated by a second dispute arising from the crown’s
decision of December 1776 to grant the élus full jurisdiction over disputes
arising from public works on minor roads (chemins finerot). The Parlement
certainly coveted that authority for itself,158 and jealousy turned to rage
when the élus issued an ordinance in December 1778 based upon royal
letters patent that had not been registered by the court.159 Clearly the
quarrel about the ordinances of December 1778 and December 1783 hinged
on the interpretation of the right of registration relative to the administrative
activities of the élus. However, these arguments were given a further twist
on 27 November 1786, when the élus effectively sidestepped the Parlement
altogether by ‘registering’ letters patent confirming their jurisdiction over
the chemins finerots ‘in the registers of the Estates of Burgundy’.160 The
Parlement predictably launched another tirade, accusing the élus of arbitrary
behaviour and of threatening the very constitution of the kingdom.161
153 ADCO C 4730, deliberation of 1 December 1783, and chapter 11.
154 ADCO C 4731, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 22 Juillet 1784’.
155 ADCO C 3350, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 12 Mars 1785’.
156 The failure of the parlements to act in unison when confronted with the policies of Maupeou
undoubtedly reduced the popularity of the idea.
157 ADCO C 3350, ‘Remontrances du Parlement de Dijon du 12 Mars 1785’.
158 See the comments of the local intendant, AN H1 133, dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur le cahier de
Bourgogne [1779]’.
159 Ibid .
160 ADCO C 3350, ‘Mémoire sur deux questions controversées entre les élus généraux du duché de
Bourgogne, comtés et pays adjacents d’une part et le Parlement cour des aides de Dijon d’autre’.
161 For a good example of their arguments, see ibid., ‘Arrêt du Parlement qui annulle et supprime . . .
du 28 Décembre 1786’, and the remonstrances of 27 February 1787.
With the Parlement seeking the historical and constitutional high
ground, it is not surprising that the élus dusted off their yellowing copies
of Varenne’s works and fought back. As before, the memoirs written on
behalf of the chamber stressed the superior pedigree of the Estates, arguing
that:
it is sufficient to recall that the élus demonstrated that the practice followed in
Burgundy for several centuries and long before the creation of the Parlement Cour
des Aides of Dijon, had as its basis the national law, the inaugural and fundamental
law of Estates.162
As a result, the ‘registers of the Estates’ predated those of the Parlement,
and, as the repository of the charters and privileges of the province, were
their superior. For good measure, they claimed that the Estates were the
guardian of the Burgundian constitution, and accused the parlementaires
of employing ‘a seditious discourse’ and of attempting to usurp the king’s
authority. Despite the efforts of the élus, public opinion remained firmly
behind the Parlement, and they were reduced to arguing that ‘the people
do not reason, they do not suspect a revered tribunal of wishing to inspire
[them] with false terrors’.163
By the eve of revolution, the two great corps remained locked in a famil-
iar cycle of conflict, with the crown increasingly favouring the élus, while
the public was generally sympathetic to the Parlement. Nor was this the
only quarrel engaging the attention of the élus. They were simultaneously
battling their old enemies in the Cour des Aides of Paris about the familiar
issue of cotes d’office within the comté of Bar-sur-Seine, which was admin-
istered by the Estates, but was outside the jurisdiction of the Parlement
of Dijon. The familiar clash of judicial memoirs and remonstrances was
followed, in 1784,164 by the remarkable decision of the Estates to try and
buy the comté out of the jurisdiction of the Parisian court altogether.165
The history of the Estates and the Parlement in the eighteenth century
can perhaps best be summed up by the fact that in January 1788 the two
162 ADCO C 3350, ‘Mémoire sur deux questions controversées’. Similar arguments were made in ibid.,
‘Mémoire des élus généraux des États de Bourgogne . . . au sujet de deux arrêts du Parlement Cour
des Aides de Dijon, du même jour 28 Décembre 1786’.
163 Ibid ., ‘Mémoire des élus généraux des États de Bourgogne’, and ibid., fol. 50, the élus to the garde
des sçeaux, 29 April 1787.
164 For a sample, see: ibid., ‘Réflexions pour les élus généraux des États du duché de Bourgogne . . .
sur l’écrit intitulé Réponse de la Cour des Aides de Paris, à l’article 12e des cahiers des États de
Bourgogne’, and ‘Mémoire pour les élus généraux des États du duché de Bourgogne, comtés et
pays adjacents en reponse aux remontrances présentés à Sa Majesté par la Cour des Aides de
Paris . . .’.
165 See chapter 10.
sides were once again preparing for war over cotes d’office.166 This time,
however, the problem would be rapidly eclipsed by national events, not
least by Lamoignon’s attempts to break the power of the parlements in
May 1788. As the kingdom divided over the rights and wrongs of this latest
royal coup d’autorité, one of the noble alcades, the marquis de Digoine,
took it upon himself to protest in the name of provincial privilege.167 He
declared that the reforms imposed by force in Dijon on 10 May were nothing
less than an attempt to destroy ‘the ancient French constitution’, and he
demanded the re-establishment of the old judicial system and its officers in
their entirety. His outburst could not be justified by his office as alcade, and
the élus reprimanded Digoine and distanced themselves from his protest by
ordering the secrétaires des états ‘to put it to sleep in the registers under lock
and key, without power to withdraw it, unless it is with the permission of
the king, or by our command’.168 Instead, they drafted their own humble
and respectful ‘grievances’ against Lamoignon’s reforms, which did nothing
to endear them to the public. From Semur-en-Auxois, the lawyer, Braine,
asked his colleague Cortot:
do you know the grievances of the élus of Burgundy, personally I have only heard
of them via a good citizen who is familiar with them and he assured me yesterday
that they were execrable, and that the moderation which, it is claimed, meant that
they have been kept secret, was nothing more than weakness and bad faith.169
By the time the dust had settled after the disgrace of Lamoignon and
the recall of the Parlement in September 1788 the situation had changed
irrevocably. With the national Estates General scheduled for May 1789,
debate shifted to the broader issues of constitutional reform and political
representation. The long struggle between the Parlement and the Estates
for the right to speak in the name of Burgundy and its privileges was over.
Despite their professed attachment to the privileges and constitution of
Burgundy, the élus and the Parlement of Dijon had never united to defend
a common platform. Instead, they had spent much of the eighteenth cen-
tury eyeing each other suspiciously, and on several occasions they had been
involved in protracted and acrimonious conflict. Amongst the principal
causes of dispute were matters of jurisdictional or administrative com-
petence, and, in a period when the powers of the chamber of élus were
expanding, the Parlement was defensive of its own rights on issues such as
cotes d’office or nouveaux pieds de taille. It is also clear that the judges had
166 ADCO C 3350, fol. 145, the élus to the prince de Condé, Lomenie de Brienne, Lambert and
Lamoignon, 12 January 1788.
167 ADCO C 3302. 168 Ibid. 169 ADCO E 642 bis, Braine, fils, to Cortot, 14 June 1788.
hopes of exerting some kind of scrutiny over the activities of the chamber,
and many of their arguments mirrored those employed against the inten-
dants in the pays d’élections. The provincial administration was therefore
accused of acting in an arbitrary, even despotic fashion and these charges
were subsequently repeated in the other pays d’états, especially during the
course of the pre-revolutionary crisis of 1787–9.170
In the course of their quarrels, both sides resorted to the traditional
strategies of writing remonstrances, sending deputations to Versailles and
appealing to the governor, but they also attempted to win the support of
public opinion. Through the memoirs of Varenne, the chamber of élus
proved unusually combative, employing historical and constitutional argu-
ments designed to emphasise the superiority of the Estates. The parlemen-
taires replied with the remonstrances written by, amongst others, Charles
de Brosses and Malesherbes, and pamphlets, such as the Parlement Outragé
of Joly de Bévy. The attempt by de Brosses to recruit Rousseau to aid their
cause is in itself a sign of the sophistication of the debate, and the impor-
tance attached to it by the protagonists. In their attempts to woo public
support, the combatants aimed their arguments at specific targets, includ-
ing the members of the Estates, the legal and literate classes within the
province, the officers of the royal administration and the other parlements.
Nor was the literate public the only opinion that counted. The Parlement
in particular was determined to mobilise the wider population of Dijon,
and it encouraged, with great success, displays of popular support that
gave substance to its claims to be defending the ordinary citizen against
the arbitrariness of the provincial administration. Within a predominantly
parlementaire city, the élus were at a distinct disadvantage, and their prob-
lems were exacerbated by their respective roles. With their responsibility for
tax collection, the élus were never likely to be popular, and the infrequent
meetings of the Estates meant that it was the judges who spoke out against
increased taxation. If the Parlement consistently won the battle for public
opinion, its efforts to police the activities of the élus largely foundered.
When forced to make a choice, the crown invariably supported the cham-
ber because of the importance of the Estates to royal credit. The result was
a simmering hostility between Burgundy’s two most important institutions
that would endure until 1789.
170 Legay, Les états provinciaux, provides some excellent examples.
chapter 10
Tax, borrow and lend: crown, Estates and finance,

1715–1789
By the close of Louis XIV’s long and expensive reign the Estates of Burgundy
had been pushed to their fiscal limits. The provincial debt stood at record
levels, and future revenues from indirect taxation had been pledged for
decades in advance.1 Although the credit of the Estates still inspired con-
fidence amongst investors, concern was undoubtedly growing about their
ability to raise further loans against the sombre background of subsistence
crises, economic depression and tax arrears.2 The return of peace in 1714
prevented the crisis from spiralling out of control, and the death of the Sun
King coincided with the start of a largely peaceful generation. The Estates
were able to take advantage of this more favourable climate to restore their
financial affairs, and when a new cycle of conflict began in 1740, with the
outbreak of the War of the Austrian Succession (1740–8), they were ready
to meet the predictable fiscal onslaught.
The three great wars of the mid-eighteenth century were largely fought
on foreign soil, and they never threatened the kingdom with disaster on the
scale of the War of the Spanish Succession, but they were all phenomenally
expensive.3 Moreover, the Seven Years War (1756–63) witnessed a series
of humiliating military reverses that would shake the very foundations of
the monarchy. The governments of Louis XV and Louis XVI were more
absolute in theory than in practice, and as they sought to raise the funds
needed to wage war they encountered a level of opposition unmatched
since the time of the Fronde. The Catholic Church, the parlements and
the provincial estates of Brittany and Languedoc, to name just a few, all
protested about increased taxation, and the failure of the crown to overcome
these privileged opponents has long been interpreted as one of the principal
1 See chapter 6. 2 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 199–202.

3 Recent studies of the financial costs of the wars include: J. C. Riley, The Seven Years War and the old
regime in France: the economic and financial toll (Princeton, 1986), pp. 132–91, and Félix, L’Averdy,
pp. 135–80.
295
causes of the French revolution.4 Even those historians who have been more
sympathetic to that opposition have accepted that resistance to taxation
was one of the defining features of the political history of the eighteenth
century.
Not surprisingly, the Estates of Burgundy were expected to give their
consent to new taxation, and to a litany of other financial measures, from
the ritualised extortion of buying out royal edicts to a massive borrowing
programme on behalf of the king. Yet despite the weight of these demands,
the Estates did not become a focus of resistance. The close control over
their assemblies exercised by the governor was undoubtedly a contributory
factor, but the nature of the local fiscal system was equally significant. No
less important was the right of the Estates to bargain with the crown about
taxation and to oversee its collection. The ability to manage their own affairs
ensured that, whereas the monarchy and many of the other corps of the
ancien régime were crippled by debts on the eve of revolution,5 the Estates
of Burgundy were in rude financial health. This chapter will attempt to
explain why.
recovery
Nothing can better illustrate the peace dividend enjoyed by the province
than the simple statistics of the annual income and expenditure of the
Estates for the first half of the eighteenth century (see figure 10.1). In 1715,
the alcades estimated that the province spent some 7,049,751 livres, the
highest total of Louis XIV’s entire reign.6 Thereafter the figures for both
income and expenditure fell sharply, although the chaos engendered by
John Law’s system makes the data from 1718 to 1724 of limited value. A
more accurate picture is provided by the data running from 1726, when the
value of the livre tournois was stabilised, until the outbreak of war in 1740.7
During a largely peaceful period, that was only interrupted by the brief War
of the Polish Succession (1734–6), average annual income was 3.7 million
4 The debate about privileged opposition to the crown has been examined by: Swann, Politics and the
parlement, pp. 27–34; W. Doyle, Origins of the French revolution (3rd edn., Oxford, 1999), pp. 45–53;
and Kwass, Privilege and politics.
5 The near bankruptcy of the crown was one of the principal causes of the collapse of royal power
after 1787, and has been well documented. The no less parlous state of the corps of the kingdom has
been emphasised by Bossenga, Politics of privilege, pp. 35–41, 126–30; Doyle, Venality, pp. 71–2; and
McManners, Church and society, i, pp. 141–5.
6 ADCO C 3049, fols. 348–50.
7 For details, see: ADCO C 3049, fols. 348–50, 426–8, 503–5; C 3050, fols. 60–2, 134–5, 286–8, 349–50;
and C 3304, fols. 12–13.
Crown, Estates and finance, 1715–1789 297
9,000,000
8,000,000
7,000,000
6,000,000
5,000,000
4,000,000
3,000,000
2,000,000
1,000,000
0
1715
1717
1719
1721
1723
1725
1727
1729
1731
1733
1735
1737
1739
1741
1743
1745
1747
1749
1751
1753
1755
1757
1759
1761
1763
1765
Income Expenditure
Figure 10.1 Annual income and expenditure of the Estates of Burgundy, 1715–65
livres and spending 3.4 million livres.8 Nor were there any great fluctuations
in these figures, and spending predictably peaked at 4.68 million livres in
1735 at the height of the war.
As the data in figure 10.1 are derived from the remarques of the alcades,
they contain many imperfections, not least that the spending figures for
the final year of every triennalité were nearly always incomplete.9 Their
estimates nevertheless provide a good indication of the financial pressure
on the province, and it was clearly less intense than during the traumatic
years from 1688 to 1715. The Estates were able to capitalise upon this financial
respite to put their affairs in order. As we have seen, their credit structure
relied upon the king granting them the rights to levy crues on salt sold
within the province, and to farm the octrois paid on goods travelling along
the river Saône. By 1715, future revenues from these indirect taxes had been
assigned to repay the provincial debt until 1732 and 1748 respectively.
The improvement in the situation is quickly apparent when we look at the
consumption of the octrois. During the final years of Louis XIV’s reign, they
8 The total income for the fifteen years from 1726 to 1740 was estimated at 55,957,940 livres, an average
of 3,730,529 livres, spending in the same period was 52,048,366 livres, giving an average of 3,469,891
livres. This is a slight underestimate as the figures provided by the alcades for 1729 in particular were
incomplete.
9 The potential pitfalls contained in the remarques are discussed in greater detail in chapter 6.
had proved to be a remarkably efficient means of underpinning the credit of
the Estates, and there is no better indication of the changed financial climate
than the fact that they were rarely called upon before 1741. Only once, in
1727, did the crown oblige the Estates to borrow against the future revenues
from the tax in order to pay for the suppression of unwanted offices.10 As
a result, when France entered the War of the Austrian Succession, in 1741,
the octrois had been granted until the end of 1750, an advance of nine years
compared to a staggering thirty-three years in 1715. The octrois generated
in the region of 200,000 livres annually, and by 1741 that represented a
reduction in the province’s debt of approximately 4.8 million livres.11 More
importantly for the province’s taxpayers some 240,000 livres in interest
payments was no longer being added to the taille.
Given the sharp decline in the advanced consumption of the octrois, it is
somewhat surprising to see that there had been no comparable reduction
in the debt assigned to the crues. In 1739, the crues had been granted until
the end of 1761, a period of twenty-two years, representing a slight increase
on the situation in 1715. This should not be allowed to disguise the fact
that the financial position had stabilised. From 1724 until 1787, the élus
maintained the exact ratio of twenty-two years between the actual year and
that for which the crues were pledged. At every assembly of the Estates,
the deputies voted a don gratuit of one million livres, which the king then
reduced to 900,000 livres, and then successfully petitioned for a further
three-year extension of their rights to the crues. The élus then borrowed the
sum required at 5 per cent, which over the nineteen years prior to the crues
actually becoming available produced interest charges of 855,000 livres that
were added to the taille. Once the crues had finally been collected, they easily
provided the 300,000 livres annually needed to reimburse the outstanding
capital, and to cover the final interest payments of 30,000 and 15,000 livres
respectively, producing the grand total of 900,000 livres that the Estates
had paid in don gratuit some twenty-two years earlier.
This rather dry arithmetical exercise demonstrates that after 1724 the
Estates maintained a deliberate policy of borrowing to pay the don gratuit,
preferring to levy the interest charges over nearly two decades and making
no attempt to reduce the debt. In a sense, their position was justifiable. If
the debt had been liquidated, the crown would have almost certainly seized
the opportunity to increase its demands. The taillables thus contributed the
10 ADCO C 5366. According to the terms of the edict of January 1727 the Estates were paying for the
suppression of unwanted offices of receivers of the octrois.
11 These figures have been calculated on the basis of an annual income from the octrois of 200,000
livres over a period of twenty-four years, and are intended to offer an indication rather than a precise
estimate.
same sum in interest as they would have paid if the don gratuit had been
levied immediately, and if they had not lost out others had the pleasure of
gain. For those blessed with the means, and the opportunity, to invest in
the provincial debt, principally the officers and members of the Estates and
the local Burgundian elites, there was the happy prospect of a nineteen-
year investment, with a guaranteed annual return of 5 per cent, and the
comforting knowledge that their capital was secure.
Not surprisingly, the credit of the Estates remained extremely buoyant.
During the early years of the reign of Louis XV, there was a serious attempt
to make lending to the Estates a provincial privilege. At the assembly of
1718, the alcades complained that the élus had been favouring courtiers, and
a décret was passed giving preference to Burgundians.12 The governor, the
duc de Bourbon, later wrote to the élus demanding that they implement
it, adding that ‘it is just that local people benefit’.13 In their remarques of
1742, the alcades repeated that argument, claiming that ‘it appears just that
Burgundians have preference as the interest on their capital will not leave
[the province] which will be a considerable advantage’.14 As the provincial
debt expanded after 1740 such arguments would become increasingly re-
dundant, and there would be enough borrowing to keep almost everyone
happy.
The tendency of the members of the Estates to treat the debt as if it were
part of their own patrimony could only reinforce the confidence of in-
vestors. When John Law embarked upon his remarkable fiscal experiment,
establishing a state bank and flooding the kingdom with paper money, one
of the intended effects was a fall in interest rates. The élus were forced to
reduce the rate offered on provincial rentes to 3 per cent in 1719, and to only
2 per cent for a brief period in late 1720 before Law’s bubble burst.15 As the
crown sought to re-establish some kind of fiscal stability in the aftermath,
interest rates were fixed at denier 50 (2 per cent). The members of the Estates
were horrified. At their meeting of 1721, they demanded exemption, and
in their subsequent remonstrances declared that rentes were ‘the principal
commerce of Burgundy’.16 Their appeal was partially successful and the
loan to pay for the don gratuit was floated at 5 per cent as in the past, but
other borrowing was unaffected.
The struggle to maintain higher than average interest rates was not the
result of any difficulties in raising loans. As we have seen, if anything the
12 ADCO C 3049, fol. 362.
13 ADCO C 3166, fol. 146, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 26 March 1719.
14 ADCO C 3304, fols. 16–17.
15 ADCO C 3166, fols. 201, 211; C 3354, fol. 8, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 29 November 1719; and
C 3168, fol. 51, deliberation of the élus dated 5 November 1720.
16 ADCO C 3330, fols. 74–5.
reverse was true and they were oversubscribed. Instead, the Estates argued
that ‘the province has no commerce, agriculture being insufficient for the
subsistence of the whole, rentes are its only resource’.17 In other words,
the Estates were seeking to protect a system that guaranteed a good return
for them, regardless of the fact that they could almost certainly find the
necessary funds at a lower interest rate. The losers in this arrangement
were the taillables, who supported an unnecessarily heavy burden. That, in
turn, reinforces an already strong suspicion that before 1740 the debt had
been kept at an artificially inflated level, and that the ordinary taillables
were being denied the relief that the crues and the healthier fiscal situation
should have afforded them.18 In effect, they were paying to perpetuate the
cushioned rentier existence of the province’s elites.
t h e bu rd e n o f ta x at i on
Once war returned to darken the fiscal horizon, the expenses of the Estates
soared. Old taxes such as the dixième were revived between 1734 and 1736
and especially from 1741 to 1748, and new ones were introduced, notably
the vingtième in 1749. These taxes were accompanied by a variety of fiscal
expedients in the classic form of ‘buy outs’ (rachats) of unwanted offices,
and a new version of that old tactic, namely ‘patriotic’ contributions. Finally
the Estates were obliged to develop a new role as a source of direct credit
for the crown, borrowing millions of livres in the process. Unfortunately,
after 1750 the alcades ceased providing regular annual breakdowns of esti-
mated income and expenditure. However, those figures that are available
do make it clear that both experienced sharp increases. During the War
of the Austrian Succession, income and expenditure averaged 5.9 million
and 5.3 million livres respectively.19 As figure 10.1 demonstrates, these
averages disguise some pronounced fluctuations, with the years 1742, 1745
and 1748 standing out as those of greatest spending. The cause was not
new taxation, but the loans that the Estates were obliged to raise on be-
half of the king.20 Once the peace was signed these high rates were not
maintained, and income and expenditure fell back quickly to their pre-war
levels. Unfortunately, the evidence available after 1753 is sparse, although
17 ADCO C 3049, fol. 511. These were the terms employed by the alcades in 1724.
18 In 1739, the alcades argued that the élus should use their ample surplus funds to cut taxation, rather
than reimburse the debt, ADCO C 3050, fols. 372–3.
19 ADCO C 3304, fols. 12–13, and C 3306, fols. 8, 23, 36. Total income for the period 1741 to 1748 was
estimated at 47,685,948 livres, an annual average of 5,960,743 livres, total expenditure was recorded
as 42,712,191 livres, or an annual average of 5,339,023 livres.
20 A procedure discussed in detail below.
3,000,000
2,500,000
2,000,000
1,500,000
1,000,000
500,000
0
15
18
21
24
27
30
33
36
39
42
45
48
51
54
57
60
63
66
69
72
75
78
81
84
87
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
17
Figure 10.2 Taille levied in Burgundy, 1715–89
the figures from the years 1763–5, immediately after the Seven Years War,
do suggest that the burden had increased substantially.21 Given the changed
political climate after 1750, with the growing opposition of the parlements
to the crown’s fiscal policies, it is important to examine why the Estates of
Burgundy did not follow suit.
Part of the explanation is to be found in their continuing success in
bargaining with the ministry and in defending their own, and, to a certain
extent, provincial interests without recourse to obstructionist tactics. By
1787, the duchy of Burgundy was, in theory, paying some 5,677,477 livres
in taxation to the crown.22 Very little entered the royal treasury directly,
and it was instead part of a more complex financial system that was ulti-
mately connected to the broader credit structure of the Estates. From the
perspective of the province’s taxpayer, however, that was largely immaterial,
and the rates of taxation do tell us much about how effectively the Estates
were able to defend their interests.
During the reign of Louis XIV the taille had risen sharply, increasing by
almost one third between 1688 and 1715.23 The eighteenth century would
see no comparable rise, and as figure 10.2 demonstrates it was not until the
21 ADCO C 3306, fols. 125–6.
22 See: ADCO C 4730, ‘Tableau des impositions et revenues de la province de Bourgogne en 1787’,
and Bordes, L’administration Provinciale, p. 107.
23 See chapter 6.
1760s that the taille levied by the élus regularly exceeded two million livres,
a ceiling that had first been breached as early as 1709.24 As ever, we need to
remember that these were the taxes set by the élus from the comfort of their
office in Dijon, and not the sums actually collected – although it is true
that late payment rather than non-payment was the common pattern. One
of the principal reasons for the comparative stability of the taille was the
crown’s decision to leave the five taxes that composed it largely unchanged
after 1715.25 Much of the movement in the amount of tax levied was the
result of the fluctuation in the size of the provincial debt, or because of the
cost of the public works or other projects of the élus. Thus, in 1788 and
1789, the taille rose dramatically as a result of the replacement of the corvée
by direct taxation.
If the king was prepared to leave the taille unchanged, there were plenty
of other taxes for him to turn to. The capitation was levied continuously
from 1701 until the revolution, and in Burgundy it revealed in microcosm
the fiscal shortcomings of the ancien régime. In 1710, the king had forced the
Estates to ‘buy off’ part of its contribution and the annual abonnement of the
tax had been fixed at 600,000 livres in perpetuity, of which 420,000 livres
was to be paid by the Estates.26 Despite the crown’s deserved reputation
for bad faith that was still the case during the reign of Louis XVI,27 and
there can be little doubt that the province as a whole had benefited from
the original sacrifice of 1710. The second half of the eighteenth century,
in particular, was a period of modest inflationary pressure, reducing the
burden of a fixed sum like the abonnement. The growth of the population
and the recovery of the economy from the extremely low base of 1710 would
have accentuated these positive effects.
Yet if Burgundian taxpayers were all blessed in some way, certain amongst
them were doubly so. By the eve of revolution, the nobility was being as-
sessed for the capitation at the far from princely rate of 31,000 livres, exactly
the same amount as in 1710, and there are good grounds for believing not
only that many nobles were undertaxed, but even that a sizeable number
had never been taxed at all. When, in 1784, the chamber of nobility threat-
ened to refuse ‘gifts and pensions’ to those who did not pay the capitation,
the number of taxpayers increased by a third almost overnight.28 A further
24 ADCO C 3307, fols. 97–8, and C 4902. It was not until 1759 that the élus assessed the taille at
2,423,593 livres, thus breaking the previous highest total set in 1712.
25 The only variations occurred when the king reduced the don gratuit to 800,000 livres because of
harvest failure as in 1718, or to honour the arrival of a new governor as occurred in 1754.
26 See chapter 6. The pays adjacents were liable for 180,000 livres.
27 ADCO 1 F 460, fols. 125–6. 28 ADCO C 3046, fols. 272, 289, and chapter 3.
sum of 77,090 livres was collected from officeholders, including members
of the sovereign courts, which was a relatively modest amount given the
presence of the Parlement and the Chambre des Comptes.29 The remainder
was imposed on the taillables.
The frequently parlous state of its finances meant that the monarchy
was frequently tempted to break the promise made in 1710, or at least to
circumvent it.30 The death of the duc de Bourbon in 1740 left the Estates
in an exceptionally vulnerable position, and until 1754 the ministry took
a far closer interest in the fiscal affairs of the province.31 Pressed for funds
to pay for the War of the Austrian Succession, the contrôleur général, Orry,
increased the abonnement of the duchy and comtés to a total of 676,924 livres
in 1742.32 The élus responded to the challenge with aplomb. They negotiated
a deal with the contrôleur général, who agreed that the increase would be
funded by borrowing, using the proceeds of the octrois for 1753 as collateral.
It was further stipulated that all taxpayers, including the taillables, would
continue to pay ‘in the form and the manner stipulated by the arrêt du
conseil of 5 June 1717’, which had confirmed the original contract of 1710.33
The exercise was repeated annually until October 1745, when Orry suddenly
announced that in future the additional capitation should be funded by
taxation.34 All of the province’s taxpayers, especially the privileged, were
threatened by the new policy, and the élus replied with a detailed memoir
citing the various contracts between the Estates and the crown since 1710.
They concluded with an offer to pay 1.2 million livres ‘on condition that
it please His Majesty to renew the terms of the arrêt of 5 June 1717’. The
minister accepted, and the Estates received the rights to the octrois for the
years 1757–61.35 This was not simply a victory for the privileged. As part
of the terms negotiated by the élus, the king agreed to alienate the sum
of 60,000 livres to cover interest payments during the intervening period,
thus sparing the taillables an additional burden. It is a good example of how
the élus could, on occasions, make the fiscal system work to the advantage
of all.
29 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 125.

30 In 1717, the duc de Noailles had considered raising the abonnement to 800,000 livres, ADCO C
3164, fol. 53.
31 See chapter 8.
32 ADCO C 3360, fol. 272, the élus to Orry, 9 January 1745; C 3354, fol. 102; and C 5574, Arrêt du
conseil d’état du roi, 24 November 1741.
33 That arrêt had confirmed the details of the buy-out of part of the capitation in 1710.
34 ADCO C 3354, fol. 102, Orry to the élus, 4 November 1745, and C 5574, Arrêt du conseil d’état du
roi of 26 October 1745.
35 ADCO C 5574, Arrêt du conseil d’état du roi of 13 May 1746.
Similar tactics were employed when the province was confronted by a
new tax, the four sols per livre of the capitation, which was effectively a sur-
charge on the original tax – a much used device that would subsequently be
applied to the vingtième.36 The élus were quick to respond, sending a dep-
utation, headed by the secrétaire des états, Rigoley de Mypon, to Versailles.
Memoirs citing historical precedents were produced, and they were fol-
lowed, predictably enough, by an offer of 1,200,000 livres to buy out of
the tax for a period of ten years. The Estates were granted the rights to the
octrois for 1762–7 and to a crue of 20 sols per minot until 1766, which was
supplemented by an annual payment of nearly 25,000 livres towards the
resulting interest payments from the pays adjacents. What this complicated
package meant in reality was the reimbursement of the capital and of all
interest charges by the end of 1767. The privileged paid nothing towards the
cost of the four sols per livre, and the taillables contributed only a fraction
of the real cost. It was an abonnement in all but name, and an almost iden-
tical arrangement was reached every ten years thereafter.37 The crown was,
therefore, able to draw more from the province – although the relationship
between the four sols per livre and the original capitation was tenuous to
say the least.
During the two war-torn decades after 1740, the capitation payments of
the privileged remained stable. The members of the Parlement and Chambre
des Comptes of Dijon together paid 47,601 livres in 1743 and 45,178 livres
a decade later in 1753.38 The Seven Years War forced the crown to double
the capitation in 1760 and the élus had no choice but to raise a further
282,693 livres in taxation.39 For once the privileged received a nasty shock.
The contribution of the Parlement and Chambre des Comptes was set at
54,307 livres in 1761, and remained at the higher level for much of the next
decade.40 Here we catch a glimpse of the pattern identified by Michael
Kwass in Brittany and Normandy, with a pronounced rise in tax paid by the
privileged.41 Fortunately for the Burgundian elites, as far as the capitation
36 See: ADCO C 5574, Arrêt du conseil d’état du roi et les lettres patentes sur icelui of 17 March 1748;
C 3354, fols. 128–9, Machault to the élus, 4 February 1748; C 3361, fols. 42–5; and ibid., the marquis
de Bissy to the élus, 11 February 1748. The two sols per livre of the capitation had been levied in the
pays d’élections since 1705, and the new contrôleur général, Machault, was determined to increase the
tax and apply it consistently throughout the kingdom.
37 These abonnements were preceded by the traditional haggling with the minister, see, for example,
ADCO C 3354, fol. 200, Boullogne to the élus, 25 April 1758, and C 3358, fol. 225, Necker to the
élus, 7 September 1788. The province paid 1.5 million livres in 1758, and 1.2 million livres in 1768 and
1778.
38 ADCO C 5575. 39 Ibid. The total was 320,000 livres for the généralité as a whole.
40 ADCO C 5576. The tax remained at this level for several years because the sovereign courts had
taken the decision to spread the cost of the increase over a longer period.
41 Kwass, Privilege and politics, pp. 62–116.
was concerned, the increase was short-lived. By the reign of Louis XVI, the
noblesse was once again paying 31,000 livres and the Parlement and Chambre
des Comptes were assessed at 46,538 livres in 1785 and 42,895 livres in 1788,
much the same as in 1710.42
t h e v i n g t i è m e s
If Burgundian taxpayers were sheltered from the worst effects of the capi-
tation, they faced a more serious threat to their wallets in the form of the
dixième and, especially, its successor, the vingtième. After its suppression
in 1717, the dixième had been resurrected in March 1734 at the start of
the War of the Polish Succession. When confronted by the original tax,
the Estates had refused to contract an abonnement and responsibility for
its collection had passed to the intendant.43 In 1734, they overcame their
reticence and the élus negotiated an annual abonnement of 700,000 livres.44
That sum had been agreed on the basis of the rolls of 1717, and they could
legitimately claim to have struck a good bargain, not least because it was
the élus, not the intendant, who oversaw its collection. Abolished in 1737,
the dixième experienced a further renaissance with the outbreak of the War
of the Austrian Succession. Orry demanded an increase in the abonnement
to 900,000 livres, but the élus secured his agreement to provide assistance
if tax revenues failed to cover the cost.45
As promised, the king abolished the dixième at the end of the war in
1748. Any relief for taxpayers was short-lived because the recently appointed
contrôleur général, Machault d’Arnouville, had ambitious plans for financial
reform, the centrepiece of which was a new levy, the vingtième.46 His tax
broke new ground in a number of important respects. It was the first time
that the crown had introduced a novel direct tax in peacetime, and it was
to be levied on all of the king’s subjects, including the clergy, regardless
of their privileges or social station. Moreover, Machault was determined
to confront the pays d’états, which he suspected of paying less in taxation
than the pays d’élections.47 His bold attack on privileged interests produced
howls of protests from those affected. The French church fought a highly
42 ADCO C 5576. 43 See chapter 6. 44 ADCO C 5808.
45 ADCO C 3360, fols. 208–9, the élus to Orry, 20 November 1741.
46 M. Marion, Machault d’Arnouville. Étude sur l’histoire du contrôle général des finances de 1749 à 1754
(Paris, 1891), is still a very useful introduction. The works of Félix, L’Averdy, pp. 59–68, and T. J. A.
Le Goff, ‘How to finance an eighteenth-century war’, in M. Ormrod, M. Bonney and R. Bonney,
eds., Crises revolutions and self-sustained growth, Essays in European fiscal history, 1130–1830 (Stamford,
1999), pp. 377–413, are essential reading.
47 Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 230–8, has argued convincingly that the privileged fiscal position of
the pays d’états was something of a myth.
emotional and ultimately victorious campaign to keep its fiscal privileges,
and the provincial estates of Brittany and Languedoc were to the fore in
the struggle against the new tax.48
As the edict creating the vingtième was issued in May 1749, there was no
immediate opportunity for the Estates of Burgundy to join the fray. Its next
meeting was not due until 1751, and the government took advantage of the
fact to treat directly with the élus. Predictably they responded by seeking to
negotiate an abonnement, and the crown’s traditional partiality to the quick
fix of a cash advance encouraged them to ignore Machault’s initial rejection
of the idea.49 The élus attempts at persuasion fell on stony ground, and
in September 1749 they were informed that an abonnement ran contrary
to the king’s desire for equality and uniformity in the administration of
the vingtième. Worse still, Machault declared that the tax would be levied
by the intendant, who was to be supplied with copies of the rolls used
to collect the dixième without delay.50 The élus meekly complied, and by
the time the Estates convened in 1751 the new tax was an established fact.
There was no reference to the vingtième in the governor’s instructions, and
no indication in the registers of the assembly of any belated opposition to
its levy.51
In Burgundy, at least, Machault had triumphed and the crown had won
a valuable opportunity to increase the fiscal burden, while reducing the
inequalities that had arisen through the abonnement system. The contrôleur
général had certainly been aided by the absence of a strong governor during
the minority of the young prince de Condé, but even so the Estates had
proved a flimsy barrier against a determined minister. The intendant was
thus able to impose the vingtième as he saw fit, and between 1751 and 1755
the tax produced, on average, 716,901 livres from the duchy and comtés, not
much less than the theoretically more onerous dixième.52 By the time war
broke out again in 1756, Machault was no longer in control of the royal
finances and his successors were less rigorous in the pursuit of fiscal unifor-
mity. After introducing a second vingtième in August 1756, François-Marie
Peyrenc de Moras proved amenable to the idea of negotiating abonnements
with the pays d’états and the élus seized the opportunity with alacrity.
48 The assembly in Languedoc was dismissed for the first time since 1629, Antoine, Louis XV (Paris,
1989), pp. 617–23.
49 ADCO C 3361, fol. 71, the élus to Saint-Florentin, 6 June 1749, and ibid., fol. 73, the élus to Machault,
15 June 1749.
50 ADCO C 3361, fols. 76–7, Machault to the élus, 9 September 1749, and C 3354, fol. 142.
51 AN H1 120, dos. 1, fols. 9–13.
52 ADCO C 3361, fols 248–52, Joly de Fleury to the élus, 18 November 1756.
A deputation of permanent officials was sent to court with instructions
to present the case for an abonnement of both vingtièmes. The deputies were
equipped with precise details of the amounts raised by the tax since 1751.53
According to their estimates, the average yield was 716,901 livres, which
included some 60,000 livres in fees paid to the treasurer general and the
controllers of the vingtième, reducing the actual value of the tax to 657,000
livres, and it was on this basis that they proposed to bid. Realising that
the contrôleur général would be expecting a better offer, the deputies drew
upon a variety of arguments. Predictably they cited the familiar sorry tale of
terrible storms and hail that had destroyed crops and ruined the peasantry,
but they also produced some more specific arguments. They claimed that
assessments of the vingtième on vineyards were excessive, having been based
upon the number of vines and their estimated production in a good year,
when, in reality, harvests were frequently mediocre or worse. The deputies
also attacked the vingtième on industry, which, despite its modest overall
annual assessment of just 21,000 livres, undermined the already weak local
economy and the efforts of the Estates to subsidise new enterprises. Finally,
they argued that an abonnement, by transferring the administration of the
vingtième to the chamber of élus, would result in a fairer tax distribution
by encouraging peasants to appeal against the allegedly excessive original
assessments of the intendant. With this confident restatement of their own
administrative prowess, they concluded with an offer of 1.2 million livres
for the two vingtièmes.
The deputies in Paris received support from the prince de Condé, who
wrote to Moras urging him to accept the province’s offer.54 Before deciding
the côntrôleur général consulted the intendant, Joly de Fleury, who admitted
that the verification of the original declarations made by taxpayers in 1750
and 1751 was incomplete.55 The Estates would certainly not pursue this
task, and so there were no grounds for believing that a substantial increase
in revenue could be achieved. Joly de Fleury’s estimate of the net worth of
the first vingtième was 660–680,000 livres, only slightly more than that of
the élus, and he admitted that ‘if the Estates do not find a small profit they
will prefer not to subscribe [to an abonnement]’. He added, ‘I know that
the deputies have decided to offer you 600,000 livres . . . if you conclude at
this price the Estates will be comfortable and the province will applaud’.
Should Moras chose to reject their offer, the intendant warned him that the
53 AN H1 124, dos. 1, fol. 3, ‘Mémoire pour les états de Bourgogne sur l’abonnement des deux
vingtièmes’.
54 Ibid., dos. 1, fol. 22, Condé to Moras, 28 November 1756.
55 Ibid., dos 2, fol. 41, Joly de Fleury to Moras, 13 September 1756.
deputies might raise their bid to 620,000 or 630,000 livres, but would go
no higher. Undeterred, Moras stood firm successfully demanding 640,000
livres for each vingtième, which, together with the two sols per livre of the
first, totalled 1,408,000 livres.56
It was a reasonable compromise, and the Estates had every reason to
be pleased with the outcome, not least because the élus were once again
firmly in control of tax collection, ceasing the enquiries and verifications
that the privileged found so irksome. A series of military defeats obliged
the crown to impose a third vingtième in 1760, and the élus lost no time
in following the precedent of 1756. Deputies were despatched to Versailles,
where they speedily contracted an abonnement of 1,800,500 livres for the
three vingtièmes and the two sols per livre.57 These negotiations were con-
cluded before the Parlement of Dijon had registered the relevant edicts,
and a lengthy and bitter quarrel between the élus and the parlementaires
was the unfortunate result.58
That political crisis may well have influenced government thinking when
it next tried to increase the cost of the province’s abonnement. Whereas pre-
vious finance ministers had negotiated directly with the élus, the abbé Terray
sought the approbation of the Estates, and in the governor’s instructions
of 1772 the iron man of royal finance demanded an increase of a fifth in
the value of the two vingtièmes.59 The provincial commandant, La Tour du
Pin, who presided at the assembly in the enforced absence of the prince
de Condé,60 was understandably nervous about the possible reaction of
the Estates, and he kept the relevant article in reserve until the assembly
had completed the majority of its business. La Tour du Pin’s fears proved
groundless, and the chambers voted unanimously to approve the increase.
Once their deputies had informed him of their decision, the commandant
declared that:
in the light of the unanimous obedience of the Estates to the orders of the king, he
was authorised by His Majesty to grant a simple increase of 165,000 livres in place
of a fifth above the abonnement requested, which will produce a very advantageous
final abonnement for the province.61
It was a vintage piece of political theatre, reminiscent of Louis XIV’s treat-
ment of the Estates a century before, and, with France shaken by Maupeou’s
56 Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 104–5. The total included the two sols per livre of the first vingtième.
57 ADCO C 3349, and D. Ligou, ‘Un impôt en Bourgogne sous l’ancien régime: les vingtièmes’, Actes
du 91e Congrès des Sociétés Savantes (Rennes, 1966), 105.
58 See chapter 9. 59 AN H1 129, dos 2., fol. 20, Amelot to Terray, 21 May 1772.
60 He was in disgrace due to his opposition to Maupeou’s judicial reorganisation of 1771.
61 ADCO C 3046, fol. 156. This produced a total of 1,474,000 livres, Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 105.
judicial revolution of 1771, it was an astute way of winning back much
needed support for the crown. When Necker revisited the question of the
abonnement in November 1780, he avoided direct recourse to the Estates
and simply increased the amount required to 1,556,500 livres annually.62
His successor, Joly de Fleury, had once been the intendant of Burgundy,
and the élus were able to agree an advantageous abonnement for the third
vingtième when it was revived in 1782. The new tax pushed the overall
annual total for the three vingtièmes and the four sols per livre to 2,024,000
livres, and after the suppression of the third vingtième it stood at 1,556,510
livres in 1787.63
The final assembly of the Estates in November 1787 witnessed scenes of
public bargaining about taxation reminiscent of the first decade of Louis
XIV’s personal rule. In the governor’s instructions, the king requested an
annual abonnement of three million livres for the two vingtièmes and the
four sols per livre, of which 292,500 livres would be paid by the Mâconnais
and a further 459,152 livres by the local clergy.64 It was further stipulated
that work should begin on the verification of the relevant tax rolls. An
accompanying letter from the contrôleur général, Lambert, explained that
he expected a more equitable levy to raise revenues sufficient to offset
the increase in the abonnement.65 To discourage opposition, the minister
added menacingly that if the proposed arrangement was rejected the king
would give orders ‘to ensure the collection in conformity with his edict
of September last and with previous edicts and declarations’. This was a
thinly veiled threat to transfer responsibility back to the intendant, and
Lambert was presumably hoping to frighten the Estates into compliance.
He would be disappointed. The third estate welcomed the idea of verifying
the tax rolls, and then declared itself to be incapable of approving such a
substantial tax increase.66 Instead, it proposed making remonstrances to
the king, informing him of the impoverished state of the province, while
urging the prince de Condé to mediate with the crown on its behalf. The
clergy, on the other hand, accepted the abonnement with the proviso that
the governor be asked to employ his good offices to obtain a reduction.
Finally, the nobility voted to offer the king one million livres to ‘buy out’ of
the increase altogether, suggesting that the interest and capital repayments
should be added to the existing vingtième rolls.
62 This was the total for the two vingtièmes and the four sols pour livre, ADCO C 3356, fol. 123, Necker
to the élus, 19 November 1780.
63 Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 105, and ADCO C 3365, fol. 103, Joly de Fleury to the élus, 9 January
1783.
64 ADCO C 3048, fol. 41.
65 Ibid., fol. 43, Lambert to Condé, 27 October 1787. 66 ADCO C 3054, fol. 29.
It is difficult to interpret the nobility’s stance as anything other than a
rather desperate attempt to preserve its privileged position, and it failed.67
Obliged to change tack, it voted to offer an annual sum of 2.4 million livres,
considerably less than that requested by Lambert. To their credit, the nobles
finally accepted the need to begin ‘a precise evaluation of the property of
the three orders . . . to establish a new base and a just proportion in the
distribution [of taxation] and it will be carried out conforming to the said
article without delay or interruption’.68 The deputies of the third estate
seconded the offer of 2.4 million livres, warmly endorsing the principle
of a general verification of the tax rolls. Only the clergy proved obdurate,
invoking the authority of the General Assembly of the French Church, due
to meet in May 1788, as the defender of their privileges and property.
In November 1787, the Estates had rediscovered their old enthusiasm
for bartering publicly with the crown, which, as it tottered towards its
final collapse, was in no mood to resist. On receiving news of the province’s
offer, Lambert wrote back to the prince de Condé announcing that the king
would settle for 2.5 million livres.69 The three chambers reassembled and
voted unanimously to accept the request ‘purely and simply’. In the twilight
of the ancien régime, the Estates had proved capable of publicly negotiating
an advantageous abonnement, and if the proposed verification had gone
ahead then all of the province’s taxpayers would have finally benefited from
their privileged membership of a pays d’états. The revolution would render
these reforms redundant, and it is clear that throughout the eighteenth
century the Estates had helped to ensure that the province’s fiscal privileges
worked primarily to the advantage of local elites. The verification of the
vingtième rolls begun by the intendant in 1751 had never been completed,
and by the reign of Louis XVI the subsequent inequalities were so glaring
that many within the provincial administration were arguing in favour of
reform.
Faced by a government perennially desperate for funds and theoretically
sympathetic to notions of uniformity and equality, the Estates were under-
standably anxious to preserve the right of abonnement. At the Assembly
of Notables of 1787, the abbé de La Fare, élu of the clergy, delivered an
impassioned defence of the privilege. He claimed that it was the existence
of abonnements that had given the province the confidence to undertake
‘the celebrated enterprises’, which had astonished the people of France and
attracted the admiring gaze of foreign monarchs.70 La Fare was referring to
67 ADCO C 3048, fols. 44–6. 68 Ibid., fol. 46. 69 Ibid., fols. 66–7.
70 ADCO C 3035, fols. 74–7, ‘Rapport fait à la chambre du clergé par m. l’abbé de La Fare’.
the canals, roads and other public works constructed by the provincial ad-
ministration which were, it is true, impressive. According to his argument,
tax privilege could be justified in terms of public utility, but he also took the
wise precaution of stressing the allegedly deleterious effects of indirect tax-
ation on wine exports for the local economy. While not stating it explicitly,
the abbé had hit the nail on the head. The power to contract abonnements
and to determine the form of taxation was one of the foundation stones of
provincial independence, allowing the élus to oversee a crucial part of the
fiscal system, thus preserving the political and financial independence of
the Estates.
e xt r ao rd i n a ry d e m a n d s a n d e x pe d i e n ts
The Estates had proved themselves to be adept at reducing the impact of
direct taxation after 1715, but the French monarchy was never short of fis-
cal expedients. One of Colbert’s more astute moves had been to transfer
responsibility for funding the military étapes to the Estates, and between
1676 and 1714 an annual average of 284,250 livres had been spent billeting
troops.71 In 1718, the Regency government sought to profit from the situa-
tion by proposing an annual abonnement of 150,000 livres in peacetime and
200,000 livres in the event of war.72 As the bishop of Autun noted, when
recommending the plan to the assembled clergy, this seemed an excellent
offer because at their peak the étapes had cost more than 600,000 livres.73
Once the governor had persuaded the chambers to permit the élus to con-
tract an abonnement agreement seemed certain. Yet the élus subsequently
proved wary, and over a decade later the governor’s instructions of 1730 still
contained an article charging the Estates with responsibility for the étapes
unless they accepted the terms and conditions offered in 1718.74
There was no abonnement at this, or any subsequent Estates, and ini-
tially it seems odd that an apparently generous offer should be rejected.
The reluctance of the Estates almost certainly stemmed from an instinc-
tive suspicion of permanent financial commitments. As for the élus, they
presumably rejected an abonnement for fear of losing control of the admin-
istration of the étapes, almost certainly to the advantage of the intendant,
something they were determined to avoid. Had the eighteenth century
71 See chapter 6.
72 AN H1 99, fol. 116, ‘Projet d’instruction pour la prochaine tenue des états de Bourgogne’.
73 ADCO C 3031, fols. 71–2, and AN H1 99, fol. 103, duc de Bourbon to the contrôleur général, 22
May 1718.
74 AN H1 107, dos. 2, fol. 5, ‘Instructions de Mgr le duc, 7 May 1730’.
400,000
350,000
300,000
250,000
200,000
150,000
100,000
50,000
0
1715
1718
1721
1724
1727
1730
1733
1736
1739
1742
1745
1748
1751
1754
1757
1760
1763
1766
1769
1772
1775
1778
1781
1784
Figure 10.3 Cost of the military étapes in Burgundy, 1715–86
seen a repetition of the events between 1688 and 1715, with almost con-
stant troop movements, they might have been forced to alter their stance.
Fortunately for the province that was not the case, and the cost of the
étapes regularly fell well below the levels of the proposed abonnement.
As figure 10.3 demonstrates, it was only during the War of the Austrian
Succession that the province regularly paid more than 200,000 livres, and
the peace of 1748 ended the long cycle of wars in Italy that had required
French armies to march south through Burgundy. Thereafter conflict was
concentrated in the Empire or overseas, causing little disruption to the
province. During peacetime, troop movements were even less of a problem
and never cost more than the 150,000 livres offered by the crown in 1718.
Whether by luck or judgement, the decision to reject the abonnement had
by 1789 proved to be a sound one.
Amongst the other military costs that the crown deflected on to the
Estates was the payment of the ‘upkeep, clothing and other expenses’ of
the militia.75 In 1726, that charge had been fixed at 52,000 livres in peacetime
and some 200,000 livres in the event of war.76 In 1757, the Estates were
dismayed to discover that the élus had agreed to an increase in the imposition
75 ADCO C 3045, fol. 140.

76 ADCO C 3306, fols. 136–7. The remarques of the alcades of 1772 provide details of the amounts paid
during the reign of Louis XV.
to 344,726 livres. War had recently been declared against both Great Britain
and Prussia, but the chambers of the nobility and the third estate were quick
to point out that no such increase had been granted during the previous
conflict of 1741–8. A unanimous vote in favour of remonstrances resulted,
and these were presented to Louis XV during the voyage of honour of
1758.77 The government stood firm, citing the pressing needs of the state,
and its success may well have emboldened it to seek a contribution towards
the costs of the coastal militia that was sorely pressed by frequent British
raids.
The contrôleur général, Bertin, first broached the subject in his corre-
spondence with the intendant, Joly de Fleury, as he prepared the governor’s
instructions for the assembly of 1760. Joly de Fleury was particularly well
informed about the workings of the Estates, having served as the élu du
roi from 1754 to 1758, and in a long and prescient letter to the minister he
predicted trouble.78 He wrote:
I must not hide from you, sir, that the proposition we shall be obliged to make
in this respect will meet many objections . . . it is less the sum itself that will cause
alarm, than to see the province subject for the first time to a new tax which appears
completely foreign [to it].
Realising that an appeal for exemption on these grounds would cut little
ice with Bertin, Joly de Fleury added that the Estates were convinced that
they already contributed to the coastal militia as part of the existing levy of
344,745 livres. If the minister was determined to press ahead, the intendant
felt obliged to inform him that modifications were required. In his draft
edict, Bertin had indicated that the new tax would be levied on the capita-
tion of ‘all his [the king’s] subjects, exempts et non-exempts, privileged et
non-privileged’. The intendant urged him to reconsider otherwise ‘we will
face insurmountable difficulties in the chamber of the nobility’ and subse-
quently the Parlement of Dijon. The danger of conflict could be reduced
by simply granting the Estates the right ‘to impose this sum as they see fit’.
Although Joly de Fleury did not spell it out, this would almost certainly
result in the élus adding the necessary sum to the taille.
In his reply, Bertin waved aside any claims of exemption from the tax,
but significantly he was prepared to heed the intendant’s recommendation
about its collection.79 Yet it was still with trepidation that Joly de Fleury
and the comte de Saulx-Tavanes, who was presiding in the absence of the
77 ADCO C 3331, fols. 127–8.

78 AN H1 126, dos. 1, fol. 8, Joly de Fleury to Bertin, 10 November 1760.
79 Ibid., fol. 9 bis, Bertin to Joly de Fleury, 18 November 1760.
prince de Condé,80 approached the Estates. Knowing that the new tax
would provoke opposition, they deliberately refrained from presenting the
article to the chambers until other royal business was complete.81 Delay
had the additional advantage of reducing the size of the assembly, as many
of the deputies began to drift away towards the end. The two men also
took the precaution of speaking informally with the presidents and leading
members of the three chambers, but even this was not enough. As the
intendant noted in a letter to Bertin:
I can not hide from you, sir, that we have run into many counter-arguments. All
of the objections that I had anticipated were made, and many more besides, that
we responded to as best we could.82
The deputies wanted information about the other pays d’états, whether they
were contributing, and if so how much. To further complicate matters,
several military officers, who were present in the assembly, reported that
they had recently commanded the coastal militia and had discovered that
the ‘new ordinances had not produced all of the benefits that were expected
and that the costs incurred did not improve the quality of this militia’.
In such an atmosphere, it was hardly surprising that Saulx-Tavanes and
Joly de Fleury struggled to persuade the Estates to submit, and when the
chambers finally relented they decided:
to limit their consent to the imposition of the sum of 45,000 livres for this time only
and they had not even wanted to grant this sum under the title of coastal militia, but
as secours extraordinaire: it would have been impossible to overcome the resistance
of the three chambers on these two conditions that they have unanimously added
to their consent and I must not conceal [the fact] that they intended by this restriction
to tie the hands of the élus for the years 1762 and 1763.
The Estates had thus voted the sum required, while making it very clear
that it was for wartime purposes only. When we consider the comparatively
trifling amount of money involved, the reaction of the deputies is particu-
larly revealing. Neither the clergy, nor the nobility was likely to contribute
much towards the cost, but the privileged orders had made common cause
with the third estate against what they believed to be a novel and irregular
imposition.
The fears of the Estates about the crown’s intentions were seem-
ingly borne out in 1762 when, despite the protests of the élus, the pro-
vince’s contribution to the upkeep of the regular militia was increased to
80 The prince was with the army in the Empire.

81 AN H1 126, dos. 1, fol. 24 bis, Joly de Fleury to Bertin, 2 December 1760. 82 Ibid.
440,562 livres.83 Worse still, at the next assembly of the Estates, in Novem-
ber 1763, the crown demanded further annual payments of 45,000 livres
for the coastal militia. As the war had ended in February 1763 the decision
was highly contentious, and the chamber of the nobility was to the fore in
leading the resistance. In its initial deliberation, the chamber declared that:
it was impossible to grant anything towards the coastal militia, given that the
province of Burgundy is, in virtue of its privileges, recognised as exempt from
contributing; nevertheless the chamber of nobility, despite the terrible exhaustion
of the people and their misery which is beyond all expression . . . has been unan-
imously of the opinion to grant the sum of 80,000 livres in the form of secours
extraordinaire.84
In other words, they were offering 10,000 livres less than the king had
requested and were refusing to recognise the legitimacy of an imposition
for the coastal militia.
Fortunately for the ministry, the prince de Condé was now presiding,
and he used all of his charms to coax the nobility and the other chambers
into softening their stance.85 After a second deliberation, the article was
accepted unanimously and further protests were confined to the pages of the
cahier de remontrances. When in 1766 the new contrôleur général, L’Averdy,
contemplated asking for a similar contribution, the intendant replied that
in the light of previous experience it would be better if the matter was
dropped.86 The minister was made of sterner stuff, and the demand for an
annual payment of 45,000 livres was enforced without serious difficulty.87
Complaints continued to be voiced about the costs of the ordinary militia,
albeit with less dramatic results. After repeated remonstrances the annual
levy was reduced to 172,000 livres in peacetime, and was subsequently set
at 349,937 livres during the War of American Independence.88
Without ever threatening to imitate the turbulent scenes enacted in
Brittany, the Estates of Burgundy had proved themselves to be tenacious
and reasonably effective defenders of provincial interests. New or increased
taxation was never accepted without question, and it often proved possible
to persuade the king to reduce his demands. Given the emotive nature
of taxation, successive finance ministers preferred to employ the tried and
trusted expedient of creating, or recreating, offices in order to persuade
the Estates to pay for their suppression. During the reign of Louis XIV,
83 ADCO C 3362, fols. 131–2, the élus to Bertin, 11 December 1762.
84 ADCO C 3045, fols. 106–7.
85 AN H1 127, dos. 1, fol. 48, Condé to Bertin, 29 November 1763.
86 AN H1 128, dos. 1, fol. 2, Amelot to L’Averdy, 10 June 1766. 87 ADCO C 3007, fols. 37–8.
88 See: ADCO C 3306, fol. 136; C 3364, fols. 240, 292; C 3365, fol. 73; and C 3366, fols. 49, 99.
this method had been ruthlessly exploited, raising millions of livres in the
process. After 1715, the picture changed slightly and the number and nature
of these ‘buy outs’ gradually diminished as the crown developed the habit
of asking the Estates to borrow on its behalf. Even so, in 1723, 1735 and
1772, the Estates were obliged to purchase a variety of municipal offices,
including those of the mayors, first bought in 1696, for the respective sums
of 600,000, 820,000 and one million livres.89 The king used similar tactics
to raise funds with a variety of indirect levies, such as those on ‘oils and
soaps’ that were, in effect, subject to a form of abonnement.90
The procedure followed in the course of these ‘buy outs’ was a familiar
one of behind the scenes negotiations and hard bargaining. In 1735, for
example, the outbreak of the War of the Polish Succession tempted Orry
to use the familiar ruse of creating new municipal offices. The contrôleur
général demanded one million livres, and the élus, in a series of conferences
held with the duc de Bourbon and his secretary, Girard, during the voyage
of honour, planned their strategy,91 eventually offering just 600,000 livres.
During an interview with the intendant des finances, Baudrye, the élus were
informed that Orry had subsequently reported to the cardinal de Fleury
who ‘had found their offers insufficient’. Invoking the authority of the
king’s venerable principal minister was clearly designed to intimidate the
élus. They withdrew to confer anew with the governor and, on 4 April,
‘His Serene Highness wrote to the contrôleur général informing him that
he had persuaded the Estates to increase their offer to 750,000 livres, and
that he believed that it was sufficient, albeit on the terms proposed by the
Estates’.92 Orry replied that the king would be satisfied with 800,000 livres,
and the deal was done with the Estates receiving their ‘conditions’ in the
form of the rights to the octrois on the Saône for 1751 and 1752.
The above example was a classic of its type. The crown had employed a
familiar fiscal expedient, and the élus, aided by the governor, had negotiated
a reasonably advantageous settlement. As neither the Estates, nor the élus,
had the right to refuse the king the monies he demanded it was as much as
could legitimately be expected. During the second half of the eighteenth
century, however, the crown did alter its tactics slightly. After the crushing
naval defeats of Lagos and Quiberon Bay, the duc de Choiseul came up
89 In 1723, the Estates paid 600,000 livres to buy these offices, and a further 800,000 livres was raised
in 1735. The Estates were, in effect, paying to buy something they had already purchased on several
previous occasions, see: ADCO C 3049, fols. 509–10; C 3311, fols. 47–62; C 3009, fol. 65; and
1 F 460, fol. 70.
90 In the sense that they were ‘bought out’ at regular intervals throughout the period, ADCO C 3003,
fol. 10, and 1 F 460, fols. 24, 42.
91 ADCO C 3311, fols. 47–8, 61. 92 Ibid., fol. 62.
with an ingenious method of rebuilding the fleet. In November 1761, he
persuaded the Estates of Languedoc to offer the gift of a warship to the king,
and then used their example of ‘spontaneous’ patriotic zeal to persuade the
other great corps of the realm to follow suit.93 Choiseul had deliberately
kept his own involvement in these carefully choreographed events secret,
and his agent in Languedoc, the archbishop of Narbonne, played his part to
perfection. According to Edmond Dziembowski, his stratagem was a great
success: ‘from the beginning of December, the first free gifts commenced’
and prominent amongst them were the Estates of Burgundy.94
The official account would certainly appear to corroborate the idea of the
Estates being swept along on a tide of patriotic euphoria. On 16 December,
the bishop of Dijon wrote to the ministry on behalf of the élus offering
an identical warship to the Estates of Languedoc and, more remarkably,
proposing to use their own fees to pay the interest on the necessary loan.95
There was nothing spontaneous about such a superficially generous patri-
otic gesture. Instead, the bishop was responding to an earlier letter from
the prince de Condé.96 Having been informed of events in Languedoc, the
governor decided that:
although Burgundy has not got a sea port . . . this argument must not prevent it
from serving as an example to the other provinces; it is for that reason that I believe
that, with the assembly of the Estates too distant, you can, sirs, issue a deliberation
offering the king a warship of the same quality and armament as that supplied by
Languedoc.
As the cost was some 700,000 livres this was a sizeable commitment, but
in his concluding comments Condé sought to allay any fears: ‘the credit
that Burgundy has always preserved by a wise administration, puts it in a
position to raise the loan needed for this expenditure and I believe that I
can assure you that it will be approved at the next Estates’.
It is not clear whether Condé was acting on his own initiative, or after
prompting from Choiseul. In his letter, the prince did note that the other
pays d’états would almost certainly follow Languedoc, and by acting swiftly
the province would create a favourable impression on the king. It was for
this reason that the élus were obliged to pledge their own fees as collateral
for the loan because their ‘gift’ would look rather tawdry if accompanied
93 The events have recently been examined by E. Dziembowski, Un nouveau patriotisme français,
1750–1770. La France face à la puissance anglaise à l’époque de la guerre de sept ans (Oxford, 1998),
pp. 458–72.
94 Ibid., pp. 467–8.
95 AN H1 127, dos. 1, fols. 1–9, and ADCO C 3354, fol. 225, Choiseul to the élus, 5 January 1762.
96 ADCO C 3362, fols. 115–16, Condé to the élus, 4 December 1761.
by conditions. Fortunately for the élus they were not expected to make
a personal sacrifice, and the contrôleur général quickly assured them that
financial aid would be forthcoming.97 The élus were thus permitted to
borrow the money needed to build the warship, and the Estates were granted
the rights to the octrois for the period 1775–9 in order to cover the interest
charges and capital repayments.98 From the perspective of the Estates of
Burgundy, the patriotic gift of 1761 had much in common with the old
expedients of advancing the crown funds to ‘buy off’ unwanted edicts
and it was financed in exactly the same way. As for the crown, once it
had discovered a new source of funds, the temptation to exploit it further
proved irresistible. After the crushing naval defeat of the Saints in 1782, this
piece of patriotic theatre was repeated with precision. Condé pressed the
élus into making a ‘spontaneous’ offer to finance a warship for the slightly
higher price of one million livres.99 Following precedent, they pledged their
own fees and were no doubt relieved to receive a further right to exploit
the octrois and an additional crue on the sale of salt to cover the costs.100
Unlike the crown, the province was in rude fiscal health and it was not even
necessary to add the interest charges to the taille, as they were paid by the
‘free funds’ of the Estates.
French public opinion may have been enthused by a new patriotic
élan after 1760,101 but the Burgundian élus had remained thoroughly busi-
nesslike. If they shared the new public mood, their patriotism had a dis-
tinctly parochial edge. The warship constructed in 1762 was named ‘La
Bourgogne’, and that of 1782 ‘Des États de Bourgogne’.102 No sooner had
Choiseul been informed of their gift in 1762, than the élus petitioned him
to appoint a Burgundian as its captain.103 The relatively underdeveloped
seafaring tradition of a landlocked province meant that their project sank
for want of an officer of the required grade. The Estates did, however,
follow the fortunes of their warship with interest. When ‘La Bourgogne’
was involved in a naval engagement in April 1782, they noted with pride
that it had been singled out for praise by the English admirals Rodney and
Hood.104 If the episode was not quite the spontaneous display of patriotic
fervour that some have assumed, it had at least engaged the attention of
the Estates in a way that ordinary fiscal expedients could not.
97 Ibid., fol. 120, Bertin to the élus, 21 December 1762. 98 AN H1 127, dos. 1, fols. 1–9.
99 ADCO C 3306, fol. 156, and BMD MS 21537, ‘Observations sur une brochure intitulée: le manuel
du bourguignon, ou recueil abrégé des titres qui servent à prouver les privilèges de la province’.
100 They received the octrois for the period 1795–9 and a crüe of twenty sols per minot for 1789–92.
101 As Dziembowski, Un nouveau patriotisme, has so eloquently argued.
102 Ibid., p. 467. 103 ADCO C 3354, fol. 225, the élus to Choiseul, 5 January 1762.
104 ADCO C 3053, fols. 43–4.
Finally, the accounts of the Estates prepared during the last decade of the
ancien régime reveal the existence of a substantial ‘buy out’ that says much
about the self confidence of the provincial administration. In November
1786, the Estates paid the colossal sum of six million livres to the royal trea-
sury to sanction the purchase of the ‘rights of brokers, measurers and in-
spectors of beverages and butcheries’ as well as the tax on ‘oils and soaps’.105
Quite remarkably they had also attempted to buy the comtés of Bar-sur-
Seine and Auxerre out of the jurisdiction of the Cour des Aides of Paris.106
The crown rejected this proposal, but the élus were permitted to buy the
‘rights of aides’ in the two comtés. The élus justified their massive expendi-
ture on the basis that:
it was just to seize an opportunity to discharge the third estate of a tax that it bears
alone for the payment of the abonnement. This abonnement being the equivalent
to a tax on consumption, [it] seems by its very nature, that it must be paid by the
three orders who are all in the order of consumers.107
The emphasis on fiscal equality was a further sign of a reforming current
within the administration, although any celebrations amongst the members
of the third estate were likely to be muted. As with the rights of aides
suppressed in the comtés these indirect taxes were to be re-established to
the benefit of the Estates, thus providing the means to pay the interest and
eventually to reimburse the capital. The debt was not expected to be repaid
until the beginning of the next century, and until then the taxes would be
paid as before.
b o r row i n g a n d t h e p rov i n ci a l d e bt
In 1778, the year in which France entered the War of American Inde-
pendence, the debt of the Estates of Burgundy was estimated to stand at
6,397,489 livres.108 By 1784, a year after the conclusion of hostilities, the
total had risen to 9,852,312 livres, and in November 1787, the last year for
which meaningful figures are available, the debt amounted to 8,162,462
livres, to which should be added a further six million livres recently raised
for the three ‘buy outs’ discussed above.109 A grand total of 14,162,462 livres
was impressive, but was it a cause for alarm. The fact that the Estates
had borrowed these sums at either denier 20 or 25 (4–5 per cent) is
105 Previously the Estates had paid a form of abonnement, ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 24.
106 See: ADCO C 3241, fol. 429; C 3350; and C 3307, fols. 14–15.
107 This was how the alcades interpreted their action in 1787, ADCO C 3307, fol. 15.
108 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 86. 109 ADCO C 3307, fols. 12–15, 18.
a strong sign that it was not. The crues and octrois supplied other useful in-
dicators of financial health. In 1787, the crues of forty and fifty sols per minot
were pledged until the end of 1809, exactly twenty-two years in advance, a
pattern that had remained unchanged since 1726. As for the octrois, they had
been allocated until the end of 1799, thus consuming revenues for a period
of twelve years. While hardly ideal, the situation still compared favourably
with that of 1715, and as the credit structure had been functioning on these
lines for a century there appeared to be little cause for concern. There was,
however, a slight ambiguity about the status of 1.9 million livres borrowed
to buy the ‘rights of aides’ in 1786. Rather than assign the interest payments
and the reimbursement of the capital to the crues or octrois, this capital
sum and the associated interest payments were to be repaid by halving the
fees of the taille collectors, while still imposing the full ‘twelve deniers per
livre for their collection fees’.110 It was estimated that if the taille was set at
2,280,000 livres or above, the 1.9 million livres borrowed would be repaid
by the end of 1822.
Even when the six million livres borrowed in 1786 are included, the debt
at the end of the 1780s was not especially onerous. It had been accumulated
over the years in order to fund the various ‘buy outs’, warships and other
fiscal expedients described above. More importantly, there was widespread
confidence in the probity of the provincial administration. By the 1780s, the
octrois were producing an annual income of 270,000 livres, and the crues of
forty and fifty sols per minot over 500,000 livres, which was supplemented
by a further 60,000 livres for the additional crue of twenty sols.111 As before,
that income was used to cover the debt, and it was supplemented by other
sources of revenue. At the Estates of 1787, the chamber of the nobility
appointed a committee to investigate the financial affairs of the province in
detail. Its report was full of praise, noting that, in addition to the income
from the octrois and crues, the province possessed considerable ‘free funds’
from the receipts of direct taxation levied in the province,112 amounting to
approximately 300,000 livres for the triennalité of 1784–7.113
These revenues, together with their control of the tax system, ensured
that every three years the alcades reported faithfully on the substantial reim-
bursements that the élus had affected. Thus in 1778, they announced that
during the current triennalité (1775–8) 2,335,134 livres had been repaid. The
110 ADCO C 4730, ‘Observations sur les impositions de la Bourgogne’.

111 ADCO C 3306, fol. 220, and C 3452, ‘État de la situation de la recette générale des états, au
12 Novembre 1787’.
112 BMD MS 1189, fol. 146–7. This is confirmed by ADCO C 3452, ‘Etat de la situation’.
113 Ibid.
outbreak of war made the task of their successors more difficult, and they
were only able to repay 959,516 livres between 1781 and 1784.114 Finally, in the
period from 1785 to November 1787, they repaid a further 1,689,850 livres.115
These were by no means untypical figures, and throughout the century the
Estates had preserved their reputation for sound financial management. It
is far easier to find examples of creditors complaining that they had been
reimbursed too quickly than not at all.
If the Estates’ debts had had been restricted to those monies identified
by the alcades as being for the affairs of the province, then it would be
reasonable to assume that the finances were in good health. There were,
however, other debts that need to be taken into consideration. In 1778, the
Estates, urged on by the government, had finally committed themselves
wholeheartedly to the construction of a network of canals.116 The Estates
were permitted to borrow in order to finance these huge capital ventures,
and by 1787 the alcades estimated that 6,890,000 livres had been raised,
predicting that the total cost would exceed the original estimate of twelve
million livres by at least 1.3 million.117 Any great engineering enterprise
carries a risk of the costs spiralling out of control, and the means by which
the venture had been financed was a further cause for concern. In December
1783, the king had issued letters patent allowing the Estates to borrow
the sums required, but he had not provided an extension of the crues or
octrois to ensure repayment. Instead, it was assumed that once opened the
tolls on the canals would supply the revenue needed to repay the loans.
During the intervening period, the élus decided that rather than increase
the burden of the taillables interest payments ‘would be made on the loan
itself’, that is to say they would borrow to pay the interest on their earlier
borrowing.118 By the ordinary standards of the provincial administration,
this was a remarkably carefree approach, and unforeseen expenses or delays
would have wreaked havoc with their calculations. It would also have been
interesting to know just how much revenue the Estates hoped to recoup
from the tolls. Had the revolution not intervened it is probable that they
would have faced some difficult financial choices.
Any institution capable of borrowing millions of livres at interest rates
of only 4–5 per cent was bound to attract the attention of the king’s hard-
pressed finance ministers. Under Louis XIV, the exploitation of financial
114 ADCO C 3306, fol. 220.
115 These figures were calculated by a committee of the chamber of the noblesse, BMD MS 1189,
fol. 143.
116 See chapter 11. 117 ADCO C 3307, fols. 17, 42–5.
118 ADCO C 3306, fol. 22. It is difficult to be sure if this was simply a result of over confidence, or a
fear of the consequences of raising further taxation.
16,000,000
14,000,000
12,000,000
10,000,000
8,000,000
6,000,000
4,000,000
2,000,000
0
1742 1744 1746 1748 1750 1752 1754 1756 1758 1760 1762 1764 1766 1768 1770 1772 1774 1776 1778 1780 1782
Figure 10.4 Annual borrowing by the Estates of Burgundy on behalf of the

king, 1742–87
expedients was almost an art form, and in the final months of the Sun King’s
reign his contrôleur général, Desmarets, had stumbled across a new strategy
for obtaining money by forcing the Estates to borrow two million livres
directly for the king, allowing them to retain part of the proceeds of direct
taxation to cover interest and repayment charges.119 The long period of
peace that followed the king’s death meant that the practice was temporarily
abandoned, but his successors had not forgotten the lesson. Once a new
cycle of warfare began in 1740, the crown regularly obliged the Estates to
borrow on its behalf. As figure 10.4 demonstrates, the number and size of
these loans accelerated after 1756, and continued into the peaceful decade
after 1763. It will not come as a surprise to learn that Necker pushed the
system to its limits, and by 1784 the alcades estimated that the outstanding
total of loans raised for the king stood at 29,519,378 livres.120 To cover the
interest charges and repayment of this borrowing, the crown had alienated
part of its revenues from the vingtièmes, capitation and other taxes with the
result that very little left the province to swell the royal coffers directly. The
Estates of Burgundy were thus raising taxes to cover the cost of lending to

the crown, a pattern that was repeated in the other pays d’états and amongst
many of the other corps of the realm.121
As nearly all the tax revenue raised in the province was to finance bor-
rowing of one form or another it is clear that the Estates were burdened
with debt. When looking at other institutions in a similar position, his-
torians have talked of the crippling nature of the burden.122 Yet such an
interpretation would have made little sense to members of the Estates, or to
those who invested their patrimony into its rentes. When the alcades con-
templated the issue of borrowing for the king in their remarques presented
to the Estates of 1778 they declined to enter into details ‘because it does not
interest fundamentally the province’. Their confidence derived from the
king’s willingness to alienate sufficient funds from direct taxation to cover
interest payments and the reimbursement of the capital.123 The intendant,
Dupleix de Bacquencourt, shared their optimism and he informed Necker
that:
the situation of Burgundy is a happy one; reimbursements are made with exactitude
and faithfulness, something that offers resources in the event that new loans are
required, a total liquidation would soon be achieved if, as a result of a long peace,
the state did not have need of secours extraordinaire nor the credit of the Estates.
The War of American Independence soon tempted Necker to put Dupleix’s
theory to the test, with a series of massive loans totalling some sixteen
million livres by the end of that year.124
Similar, if slightly less dramatic, demands were made throughout the
war, and when the Estates convened again in 1784 the alcades decided to
take a closer look at the effects of such ruthless exploitation of provincial
credit.125 Firstly, they noted that, when ordered to raise loans for the king,
the duty of the élus was to ‘see if the surety offered to the province by the
king is free and sufficient and to ensure thereafter that the sums are used as
intended’. In the circumstances, the élus could do no more, and as long as
the king was prepared to continue alienating the proceeds of taxation the
Estates had little to fear. Indeed, as the alcades remarked, the system could
be presented in an even more positive light because:
these types of loans . . . can not be prejudicial to the province and are even ad-
vantageous in certain respects, notably in that the interest is paid from the king’s
121 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, pp. 730–5, and Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 220–4, provide other
examples of a general practice.
122 Bossenga, Politics of privilege, pp. 35–41, and Doyle, Venality, pp. 71–2.
123 ADCO C 3306, fol. 204. 124 ADCO C 4565. 125 ADCO C 3306, fols. 218–19.
share of taxation, and Burgundians having considerable sums [invested] in loans
of this nature, it results that a part of the monies imposed for the king’s account
remain in the province and circulate there: at present, Burgundians have more
than 5,000,000 livres in these loans, which causes 250,000 livres to be paid and to
circulate in the province that would otherwise be sent to the royal treasury.126
Looked at from the perspective of the Estates there was no cause for alarm,
and by lending their credit to the king they provided a service that rendered
them close to indispensable.
As no one could have been expected to foresee a revolution, the only dan-
ger was from an unscrupulous, or desperate, contrôleur général, prepared to
demand loans without making provision for their eventual repayment. That
would not occur before 1789, and when the contrôleur général, Lambert,
suggested reducing the sums alienated to the Estates in December 1787 he
retreated after stiff opposition from the élus.127 It was a typical example of
how they sought to protect the creditworthiness of the Estates, and many
other cases can be cited. In a royal declaration of February 1770, for example,
the abbé Terray decided to suspend interest payments on the provincial debt
as part of his attempts to stave off government bankruptcy.128 Predictably,
the élus protested, claiming that ‘until now the Estates of Burgundy has
been equally jealous to fulfil its engagements vis-à-vis the public as to give
proof of its zeal for the king’s service’, acting ‘in a certain fashion as secu-
rity for the king in these loans’. According to the élus, Terray threatened
to destroy their credit, and they offered as proof their current struggle to
find a sufficient number of subscribers for a new royal loan. Their protests
were successful in the sense that the abbé agreed to exempt the Estates
from the terms of his declaration of 25 February, albeit ‘on condition that
the resulting shortfall would be filled by the credit of the Estates’.129 The
élus were thus obliged to contract further loans to prevent the crown from
destroying their credit.
Fending off the sharp practices of the contrôleurs généraux was not the
only preoccupation of the élus. They were no less scrupulous when it
came to preventing the rich and powerful from using the provincial fis-
cal system to their own benefit. The military commandant, the marquis de
Gouvernet, discovered this to his cost in February 1786, when interceding
on behalf of a relative who wanted an early reimbursement.130 Despite the
126 Ibid., fol. 219.
127 ADCO C 3358, fol. 132, the élus to Lambert, 18 December 1787, and C 3307, fol. 86.
128 ADCO C 3355, fol. 85, the élus to Terray, 4 April 1770.
129 ADCO C 3363, fols. 55–6, Terray to the élus, 9 April 1770.
130 ADCO C 3366, fol. 238, Gouvernet to the élus, 6 February 1786, and ibid., fol. 240, the élus to
Gouvernet, 11 February 1786, for their reply.
commandant’s eminence, his request was politely rejected. The Estates
were also vigilant on matters affecting the provincial debt, and décrets were
frequently issued with the aim of ensuring good practice. During the re-
gency and the early years of the reign of Louis XV, the Estates regularly
ordered that 50,000 livres be added annually to the taille to cover the costs
of rentes that had been contracted without funds being assigned for their
reimbursement.131
As many of those attending the Estates had funds invested in the provin-
cial debt, support for fiscal rectitude was hardly surprising. However, the
massive expansion of provincial borrowing meant that the matter was of
interest well beyond the frontiers of Burgundy. As the impressive scholar-
ship of Rosenthal and Potter has shown, in the course of the eighteenth
century Paris gradually replaced Dijon as the hub of the Estates’ financial
system, and the Estates had become part of a national, even international
credit network.132 After 1740, in particular, the scale of borrowing increased
dramatically, reaching an annual average of 2.8 million livres during the
1770s.133 With their reputation for sound finance, the Estates had no diffi-
culty finding investors from across the social spectrum, and great aristocrats
as well as domestic servants are to be found in possession of their rentes.134
After 1740 Burgundians were no longer in the majority amongst lenders,
although a relative decline was almost inevitable given the growth in the
size of the sums involved. What Rosenthal and Potter have not revealed
is whether the Burgundians preferred to place their money in the provin-
cial debt, rather than that issued on behalf of the king. According to the
alcades of 1784, locals accounted for only five million (17 per cent) of the
29.5 million livres raised for the crown.135 Yet Rosenthal and Potter have
established that after 1740 Burgundians ‘never lent more than 30 per cent
of the money borrowed by the Estates’.136 This suggests that they formed
a higher proportion of those investing in the provincial debt, a hypoth-
esis that is certainly supported by a glance at those listed as creditors in
1750.137
The officers and members of the Estates and the local robe nobility
may, therefore, have preferred to place their money in the provincial debt,
which was covered by the proceeds of the octrois and the crues. It was
131 See: ADCO C 3043, fol. 86; C 3049, fol. 352; and C 3050, fols. 19–20.
132 Potter and Rosenthal, ‘Politics and public finance’, and their ‘The Burgundian estates’ bond market’.
133 Potter and Rosenthal, ‘The Burgundian estates’ bond market’, 175.
134 Rosenthal and Potter, ‘Politics and public finance’, 594–603. 135 ADCO C 3306, fol. 219
136 Rosenthal and Potter, ‘The Burgundian estates’ bond market’, 177.
137 ADCO C 3198, fols. 683–803.
not a purely academic distinction. These revenues had been part of the
province’s relationship with the crown for generations, and the chances
of the king changing matters were relatively slight. The debt contracted
on behalf of the king, on the other hand, was a new development, only
becoming permanent after 1742. It was guaranteed by the revenues from
direct taxation, and, as we have seen, the temptation for the crown to renege
on its agreement by suspending payments, or converting fixed term debt
into rentes perpétuelles, was stronger. It is, therefore, probable that the élus
and the treasurer general connived in a system whereby Burgundian money
was placed in the provincial debt. It was not a coincidence that the alcades
always made a clear distinction between the debt of the Estates and that
contracted on behalf of the king.
Favourable treatment for Burgundians was also possible on account of
the ability of the Estates to repay the debt. Any prolonged periods of peace,
such as that between 1714 and 1736 or 1764 and 1778, allowed for substantial
repayments, and in 1739 the alcades actually requested that, rather than use
incoming funds entirely for that purpose, part of it be used to relieve the
burden on the taillables.138 Repaying loans was never a serious problem
and the élus had the choice of whom to reimburse first, and it was not
a decision that was taken at random.139 Thus, in 1752, the élus received
furious complaints from Chapeaurouge, conseiller d’état of the Genevan
republic, about the proposed reimbursement of loans he, his family and
associates had contracted with the Estates.140 They had no desire to see
their capital refunded, and, more significantly, Chapeaurouge had letters
signed by the recently deceased treasurer general, Chartraire de Montigny,
‘promising me that the Genevans who wished to contribute to this loan [of
1742] would be the last reimbursed. I showed them this at the same time
as the draft contracts carrying this explicit clause that the principal could
not be reimbursed for ten years’. The Swiss were not alone in wanting to
leave their money invested for as long as possible, and the élus were careful
to manipulate the system to their own advantage. In a deliberation of
1 February 1776, they noted that:
138 ADCO C 3050, fol. 373. They argued that the taillables should be helped ‘soit par la diminution
des imposts ordinaires, soit en les employant à la construction des chemins ou les communautés
trop éloignées ne peuvent travailler’.
139 Rosenthal and Potter, ‘Politics and public finance’, 591, have argued that as tax or other revenues
accrued ‘the treasurer of the Estates paid off the bonds by randomly selecting contracts’, this does
not always appear to have been the case.
140 ADCO C 4565, Chapeaurouge to secrétaire des états, Rigoley, 12 February 1752.
in the reimbursements . . . we do not follow the order of the most ancient contracts;
we allow certain creditors to benefit from a favourable interest rate for forty or fifty
years, while we deprive others who scarcely have time to enjoy the [benefits], that
this arbitrary choice suits, it is true, some of the inhabitants of this province, but
it is prejudicial to the arrangements of many others, and it gives them cause for
complaint.141
If all creditors of the Estates were equal in the sense of sharing a limited
risk of default, some were more equal than others.
By 1789, the Estates were far from crippled by debt, and they had pro-
tected their interests throughout the eighteenth century by continuing to
provide a valuable service to the crown. As for the monarchy, despite its
desperate financial situation, it had never seriously threatened to alter the
fiscal relationship with the province, not least because it worked. Even
the abbé Terray, who fully deserved his reputation as the most draconian
finance minister of the period, had drawn back from a plan to suspend
interest repayments that risked shattering public confidence in the provin-
cial credit structure. It would take the revolution of July 1789 to destroy
the fiscal system. With the ashes of the Bastille still smouldering the élus
were approached with plans for a ‘buy out’ of the four sols per livre of the
capitation. Aware that the very existence of the Estates was menaced, the
élus informed Necker on 24 July that:
we are representatives of the Estates, we have their powers, but now that the repre-
sentation of the three orders is attacked would it be prudent to claim a right of con-
sent that only the continuation of the [present] constitution renders legitimate? . . .
it is with much regret that we are unable to guarantee a loan that might be even
more important to the government, in the present circumstances, than at any other
time; it is with sorrow, that we refuse. No one can better appreciate than you [can]
how much this costs us.142
By refusing to contract a new loan for a ‘buy out’ of the four sols per livre, the
élus sounded the death knell of the old financial system and, a few days later,
the night of 4 August, would do the same for the Estates themselves. The
élus continued to oversee the administration for another year; thereafter
the fiscal system and the debt would become the responsibility of the new
départements and above all of the state.
The eighteenth century was a period of fluctuating fortunes for the
finances of the Estates. A period of recovery after 1715 had supplied the
foundations needed to weather the three great conflicts of the mid-century,
141 ADCO C 3229, fol. 206. 142 ADCO C 3359, fol. 45, the élus to Necker, 24 July 1789.
and there was considerable continuity in the fiscal relationship with the
crown. Both the Estates and the élus had sought to use their influence to
reduce taxes, contract favourable abonnements and obtain some assistance,
through the crues and octrois, for their payment. They undoubtedly achieved
some notable successes, and if the principal beneficiaries were the members
of the privileged orders, the élus were not always working in the interests
of the privileged alone. Only during the period from 1740 to 1754 had the
authority of the élus been seriously challenged. Profiting from the death
of the duc de Bourbon, the crown had not only refused to sanction an
abonnement for the new vingtième, but also passed responsibility for its
collection to the intendant. It was a serious threat to the authority of the
élus and to the coffers of the privileged, and the Estates proved incapable of
mounting serious opposition. It was a sign of what a determined ministry
was capable of achieving. Fortunately for the Estates, the crown was in a
state of atrophy for much of the period after 1756. As the monarchy slipped
ever deeper into its financial quagmire, they were able to reassert their
authority and were arguably more confident and powerful during the reign
of Louis XVI than ever before.
Change had nevertheless occurred. Whereas Louis XIV had supple-
mented tax revenues with expedients, even extortion, his successors were
obliged to employ less authoritarian tactics. Instead they followed a trail
first blazed by Desmarets that involved obliging the Estates to borrow ever
larger sums, while simultaneously alienating the proceeds from direct taxa-
tion to bolster their credit. Once Necker was let loose on the royal treasury,
he rapidly pushed the system to its logical limits by allowing almost all of
the revenues from direct taxation to be used to cover the costs of borrow-
ing for the king. As the government never reneged on these agreements
it worked to the advantage of the Estates, and the strength of their credit
was demonstrated by their ability to raise ever-larger loans at rates of only
4–5 per cent. To talk of crippling debts is clearly not appropriate, and
ultimately it would take a revolution to break the system.
Clearly financial factors were important to the survival of the Estates,
and historians are correct to stress that they continued to prosper in the sev-
enteenth and eighteenth centuries because they were useful to the crown.143
Yet we should beware of assuming that it was purely a relationship of de-
pendence. The nature of the ancien régime was such that neither French
monarchs nor their ministers were prepared to attack the constitution of
143 As Collins, Classes, estates, and order, p. 285, has done.

Burgundy, or the other pays d’états. Moreover, as the eighteenth century
progressed, reformist ideas were increasingly sympathetic to the provincial
estates and to the idea of reviving them elsewhere in the kingdom. The tide
was flowing in the favour of provincial representation, and the Estates of
Burgundy had little to fear. It would take a political upheaval of hitherto
unimagined dimensions to bring about their fall.
chapter 11
An enlightened administration?
The eighteenth century has been depicted as the golden age of the inten-
dants. By the reign of Louis XV the Fronde was just a distant memory,1 and,
while conflicts with the parlements or other corporate bodies were not un-
known, the intendants were an accepted part of the provincial scene. Firmly
established in their généralités and supported by a numerous body of sub-
delegates the intendants were able to turn their attention to the welfare of
the population. Ardascheff, in his classic study published at the beginning
of the twentieth century, painted a glowing portrait of the enlightened
intendant, who ‘by his culture, birth and education formed part of this
“enlightened public” which was the true mouthpiece of public opinion’.2
Inspired by the ideas of the Enlightenment and by the contemporary con-
cept of ‘bienfaisance’,3 the intendants promoted agricultural and economic
development, attempted to tackle the problems of rural poverty, encour-
aged education and the arts and sought to diffuse the benefits of advances
in medical knowledge.4
With administrators of the calibre of Turgot, Auget de Monthyon and
Sénac de Meilhan, it is not difficult to see why their reforming efforts
have attracted praise, and Maurice Bordes repeated many of the same ar-
guments in his studies of the intendants during the reign of Louis XV.5
Whereas Ardascheff had claimed that they increasingly saw themselves as
the representatives of the provinces in which they served, Bordes stressed
their continuing fidelity ‘to their administrative traditions and to their
1 The recall of the intendants had been the one of the most prominent of the twenty-seven articles
drafted by the Chambre Saint Louis, Moote, Revolt of the judges, pp. 148–9, 151, 158–67.
2 Ardascheff, Les intendants, p. 179.
3 The term could be translated as a concern for public welfare, or the common good.
4 One of Ardascheff’s chapters was entitled ‘Les intendants et la “bienfaisance éclairée”’, Ardascheff,
Les intendants, pp. 211–325.
5 M. Bordes, ‘Les intendants éclairés de la fin de l’ancien régime’, Revue d’Histoire Économique et Sociale
(1961), 57–83.
330
An enlightened administration? 331
centralising vocation’.6 Vivien Gruder reached similar conclusions, arguing
that the intendants ‘initiated reforms to improve the quality of government
and the conditions of life of the French people’.7 There has been no serious
challenge to the reputation of the intendants within the pays d’élections, and
more recent works have continued to emphasise their reforming spirit.8
In Burgundy, and the other pays d’états, much of the local administration
was in the hands of the provincial Estates, but did they follow the trail blazed
by the intendants? The available evidence is mixed. Rebillon’s impressive
study of the Estates of Brittany demonstrated that in the course of the eigh-
teenth century their powers and jurisdiction expanded considerably.9 The
results of this increased authority were disappointing, and after examining
their efforts in the fields of, for example, agricultural improvement, the
encouragement of industry and public works Rebillon concluded that they
had produced only ‘modest results’.10 Marie-Laure Legay’s recent study of
the Estates of Artois, Cambrésis and Flanders confirms that the provincial
estates were accumulating important new powers after 1750.11 She also notes
the limited extent of their practical achievements, but argues that during
the eighteenth century they were gradually transformed into administra-
tive agents of the crown. To support her thesis, she highlights the similarity
of the tasks performed by the Estates and the intendants, suggesting that
by devolving authority in the pays d’états the crown was able to achieve
its objectives, while deflecting much of the cost on to the provinces. For
Legay, the Burgundian Estates appear as a good example of this process, and
she describes them as ‘docile’, adding that they ‘appear to us rather para-
doxically as an organ of the royal administration’.12 It is an argument that
risks underestimating the degree of independence enjoyed by the Estates,
especially through their control of the local fiscal system. They were also
extremely active in the administrative sphere, and the following will exam-
ine if they succeeded in developing an alternative vision of an enlightened
provincial government.
re fo r m o f t h e ta i l l e
For the majority of Burgundians, the fiscal system and above all the taille
represented their most important point of contact with the administration
6 Ibid., 82–3.
7 V. R. Gruder, The royal provincial intendants. A governing elite in eighteenth-century France (New
York, 1968), p. 215.
8 Touzery, La taille tarifée, 1715–1789.
9 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, especially, pp. 756–7 10 Ibid., p. 763.
11 Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 288–324 12 Ibid., p. 352.
of the Estates.13 By the second quarter of the eighteenth century very serious
allegations of abuse were being directed at the administration of the taille
by the conseils des états and, above all, by the alcades.14 In their censored
remarques of 174215 the alcades declared that:
it is certain that there is great inequality in taxation and as a consequence com-
munities overburdened because the rolls of the inhabitants are false, in some
[communities] several inhabitants are taxed under a single name, in others they do
not include in the rolls of the taille those who should be assessed for modest sums
of 5 or 6 livres or less.16
These complaints were typical of the period, and in a study of several
villages in the bailliage of Châtillon-sur-Seine, Jean Richard found evidence
to corroborate the claim that the taille rolls were being falsified.17
If the problems associated with the collection of the taille were widely
recognised, the most commonly proposed solution also had a familiar ring.
Time and time again, the alcades informed the Estates that:
it would be easy to remedy abuse . . . by undertaking a general visit of all the
communities in which note will be taken of the quality of the land (pays), the
commerce practised [and] the number of inhabitants and their means.18
As the last recorded surveys of this type had been undertaken in 1690 and
1700,19 the need for an update was pressing, not least because the élus were
still using the ‘procès verbal’ drafted some forty years before!20 Yet the
repeated appeals of the alcades fell on deaf ears. Rather than order a general
visit, all three chambers of the Estates rejected the idea, usually on the basis
that it would be too costly,21 preferring instead to refer the problems of the
taille to the élus ‘to give all their attention’.22
Having encountered yet another rejection on the grounds of cost, the
alcades changed tack in 1733, and proposed that the Estates petition the
king for permission to undertake nouveaux pieds de taille throughout
13 A more detailed examination of the tax system is provided in chapter 7.

14 For a selection of their remarques, see; ADCO C 3049, fols. 357–60 (1718); ibid., fols. 451–2 (1721);
C 3050, fol. 140 (1730); and ibid., fols. 360–1 (1739).
17 J. Richard, ‘A propos d’une source documentaire: de “faux rôles” des tailles en Châtillonais (1741)’,
Annales de Bourgogne 55 (1983), 34–8.
18 The quote is from the remarques of the alcades written in 1730, ADCO C 3050, fols. 140–1, for
similar examples see: C 3003, fol. 330 (1739), and C 3004, fol. 260 (1745).
19 The general visit of 1690 is usually taken to have been the last, although something very similar was
undertaken in 1700, see chapter 7.
20 ADCO C 3050, fol. 140.
21 ADCO C 3050, fols. 217–18 (1733); C 3050, fol. 361 (1739); and C 3004, fol. 260 (1745).
22 This was their reaction in 1739, ADCO C 3003, fol. 330.
the province.23 To conduct the operation, each town would choose ‘twelve
assessors of each estate, and in the villages six, to execute this plan’.24
Perhaps seduced by the relatively inexpensive nature of the scheme, the
Estates adopted the proposal and it was included in the remonstrances ad-
dressed to the king.25 In his official reply, Louis XV praised the ‘zeal and
good intentions of the élus’, but rejected their demand on the basis that it
threatened to cause more problems than it would solve. It is true that the
principal aim of a nouveau pied de taille was to guarantee a fair distribution
of the tax burden amongst the inhabitants of a given community, and it
did not affect the actual amount of the tax for which that community was
assessed.26 That would have been a laudable reform in its own right, albeit
an imperfect one. Ensuring an equitable division of the overall tax burden
could only be achieved by comparing the relative wealth of the towns and
communities of the province as a whole, and to do that it was necessary
to conduct a general visit. These objections may have been sufficient to
provoke the royal veto, although it is likely that the crown was conscious
that a positive response would annoy the Parlement of Dijon, which had
long disputed the right to order a nouveau pied de taille with the élus. Rather
than risk provoking a jurisdictional quarrel, the king preferred to protect the
status quo.
Thus, despite being well informed about the abuses within the adminis-
tration of the taille, little progress was made in reforming them in the first
half of the eighteenth century. Indeed, the fact that general visits had still
been conducted as late as 1700 suggests that the situation may well have
deteriorated since the reign of Louis XIV. Fortunately for Burgundian tax-
payers, the period after 1750 would bring a slow improvement in the fiscal
system. In January 1751, the élus issued a deliberation forbidding alterations
to the tax rolls, an abuse that had crept in either as a means of raising funds
for local purposes, or of lining the pockets of the assessors.27 To ensure that
their orders were heeded, the élus forced the receivers of the taille to check
the amounts submitted by the tax collectors against the original rolls and
to report any anomalies to Dijon. The élus also attempted to tighten their
control over the receivers by appointing a commis in each bailliage (usually
23 ADCO C 3050, fols. 217–18. 24 Ibid. 25 ADCO C 3331, fols. 16–17.

26 These definitions were discussed in a memorandum written during the triennalité of 1775–8 when a
similar scheme was considered, ADCO C 3350, ‘Observation sur la requête présentée au roy par les
élus généraux des états . . . tendante à revocation de l’arrêt du conseil du 28 juillet 1776 qui annulle
trois de leurs déliberations des 23 décembre 1775, 10 janvier et 1 février 1776’.
27 ADCO C 4730, deliberation of 21 January 1751. This was, in fact, a repeat of a measure first adopted
during the reign of Louis XIV, see chapter 7.
the local mayor) to oversee their use of contrainte solidaire.28 The aim was
to end an apparently arbitrary practice whereby tax collectors, or the prin-
cipal inhabitants of a community, could find themselves pursued by the
receiver’s bailiffs without the authorisation of a judge or other competent
authority.
However, systematic reform would have to await the reign of Louis XVI.
As we have seen, during the triennalité of 1775–8 the élus tried unsuccess-
fully to impose a whole series of measures designed to improve the fiscal
system.29 Arguably their failure had as much to do with their aggressive and
confrontational political style as the actual content of their policies, and
once the dust had settled real progress was made. On 12 November 1781,
the chamber issued a wide-ranging deliberation reorganising the adminis-
tration of the taille. In their preamble, the élus acknowledged the very grave
problems in the existing procedure based upon a system of ‘feux’ which,
due to the failure to conduct general visits, no longer bore any relation to
its original meaning of ‘hearth’. Instead, the number of feux varied every
year and was nothing more than ‘a fraction of the total sum levied on the
province’.30 In other words, the élus accorded each community a certain
number of feux, varying from less than ten for a small hamlet to several
hundred for a major town. Only when they had finished did they know
the total number of feux, which they then used to divide the total of the
taille, thus giving the monetary value of a single feu.
Two main disadvantages flowed from this procedure. Firstly, when the tax
of a particular community increased or decreased it was impossible to tell
if the aim was to establish a more equitable division of the burden between
communities, or to provide temporary relief because of losses incurred.31
The second serious problem stemmed from the fact that the actual value
of the individual feu could not be established until the end of the process,
which meant that:
when intending to increase or reduce [the tax] of a particular community, it is
never known if, in lowering or augmenting the number of its feux, we reduce or
increase the total sum of its imposition, or, at least, it is not known if it is increased
or reduced in the proportion that was intended.
28 Ibid ., deliberations of 23 November 1754, 3 January 1760 and 3 May 1766. The regulations were
confirmed and slightly extended in a deliberation of 7 January 1765. The new commis were ordered
to compile exact reports of the number and nature of the ‘contraintes’ employed by the receivers.
29 See chapter 8.
30 ADCO C 4730, deliberation of 12 November 1781. Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 147–63, offers a helpful
analysis of how the system functioned and of the attempts to improve it.
31 ADCO C 4730, deliberation of 12 November 1781, and C 3234, fols. 546–50.
The system was a perfect recipe for confusion, and it certainly helps to
explain why the administration of the taille was so frequently denounced.
To remedy the abuse it was necessary to know the value of a single feu
at the outset, and the élus, therefore, decreed that henceforth the total
number of feux would be fixed at 100,000, and then sub-divided amongst
the fifteen bailliages under their administration.32 Once informed of the
value of the feu, the élus could make sound judgements about the effects
of their decisions on individual communities. They also proposed making
two tax rolls, the first setting the proportion of the overall burden to be
supported by the communities in terms of feux and the second, in monetary
terms, detailing any tax reductions accorded as the result of crop failures,
or other natural disasters. Given the perennial nature of these problems
in an overwhelmingly agricultural society, the chamber further stipulated
that in future it would levy an extra hundredth of the total provincial taille
assessment to cover the cost of these rebates. The advantage of such an
approach lay in the fact that the whole province would now support the
extra burden, rather than it being passed on to a few neighbouring parishes,
as had previously been the case.33 Finally, to guard against the effects of
inexperienced élus tampering with the fiscal system, the deliberation of 12
November 1781 contained a clause specifying that for the first two years of
a triennalité the chamber would be bound by the taille roll (the first one
setting the proportion of feux) of their predecessors.34 Any changes were to
be implemented in the third year, when the élus would be able to act ‘in
the light of the experience gained in the course of their administration’.
The deliberation represented a considerable advance, and it has been
described without exaggeration as ‘a successful reform, very modern in
spirit’.35 Moreover, the Estates subsequently applauded the new system,
and it formed part of a broader strategy of fiscal reform. On the same
day, 12 November 1781, the élus issued a second deliberation ordering the
compilation of an alphabetical list of all the towns and communities of
the province.36 In the preamble, they again frankly admitted the shortcom-
ings of existing practice, noting that the taille, capitation, vingtième and
militia rolls were all drawn up according to different criteria. As a result,
it was almost impossible to form a precise opinion about the burden sup-
ported by a particular village. The solution was to order that all of these
32 For example Dijon was assessed at 12,260 feux, Chalon-sur-Saône 10,635 and Avallon 5,452.
33 This is the explanation of the alcades of 1784, they were vague about how the reduction of the tax
on one community had affected the others before 1781, ADCO C 3306, fols. 223–4.
35 Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 113–14 36 ADCO C 4730, deliberation of 12 November 1781.
different levies, plus the corvée, would be apportioned on rolls drafted ‘on
uniform districts consisting of exactly the same places’.37 If the delibera-
tions of November 1781 were primarily intended to improve the working
practices of the chamber of élus, that of 1 December 1783 was focused on
the collection of the taille itself. The text was composed of over one hun-
dred articles, and set out in precise detail the rules to be followed for the
appointment of the assessors and the collectors of the taille, their duties,
rights and obligations.38 While many of these points were not new, the
deliberation was clearly intended to codify existing practice, and to reduce
the scope for fraud by providing a fixed method and timetable for tax
collection.
One final example of how the provincial administration sought to im-
prove the collection of taille is provided by the growing interest in the
taille tarifée pioneered by, amongst others, the intendant of Paris, Bertier
de Sauvigny, and the contrôleur général, L’Averdy.39 The aim of the reform
was to encourage fiscal equality by basing taille assessments on a more ac-
curate survey of individual property and wealth. According to d’Orgeval,
the first recorded use of a ‘tariff ’ in Burgundy was for the nouveau pied de
taille conducted in Beaune in 1768, and the practice does appear to have
become widespread during the reign of Louis XVI.40 By 1789, the élus were
planning to introduce a ‘tariff-type’ to be employed in a province-wide
programme of nouveaux pieds de taille that might well be described as a
general visit by another name.41 They were also petitioning the crown for
the application of an arrêt du conseil of July 1766, with the aim of closing
the legal loophole whereby wealthy taillables could only be assessed for the
tax in their place of residence, despite the fact that they owned property
elsewhere in Burgundy.42
As the élus were shocked to discover in February 1786, abuse, on this
occasion in the form of false taille rolls,43 was never completely eradicated,
but the reign of Louis XVI had produced improvements. Considerably less
had been achieved in relation to the other direct taxes levied by the élus.
As we have seen, the capitation was effectively a surtax on the taille, and
the province’s privileged, especially the nobility, had benefited hugely from
37 The wording here is taken from the remarques of the alcades of 1784, but it encapsulates the spirit
of the reform, ADCO C 3306, fol. 222.
39 Touzery, La taille tarifée, and Félix, L’Averdy, pp. 291–304.
40 D’Orgeval, La taille en Bourgogne, pp. 10–12, 71–3.
41 ADCO C 3843, and Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 116.
42 ADCO C 3366, fol. 332–3, the élus to Calonne, 9 December 1786.
43 ADCO C 3366, fol. 246, procureur syndic, Jarrin, to the receiver of Arnay-le-Duc, 16 February 1786.
the system of abonnement.44 The alcades did raise the issue at the Estates
of 1775, attacking the fact that the privileged paid less than a sixth of the
total cost of the capitation, something that they described as an offence
to ‘reason and equity’.45 These fine words would be repeated on several
subsequent occasions without noticeable effect. Inequality was also one of
the defining characteristics of the vingtièmes, and when the élus, led by abbé
de La Goutte, attempted to introduce reforms they were rapidly halted by
opposition from the privileged.
The defeated élus at least had the satisfaction of seeing reform of the
vingtièmes return quickly to the political agenda. The governor’s instruc-
tions presented to the Estates of 1781 contained a specific request that the
élus be ordered to use ‘the means that they consider appropriate to achieve
the most equitable distribution of the abonnement of the vingtièmes’.46 The
chambers of the clergy and the third estate responded enthusiastically, but
the nobility made clear its objections to a ‘general verification’ behind which
it saw the dreaded cadastre.47 As a result, the élus issued a deliberation on
28 January 1782, ordering the receivers to undertake a ‘a general census of
vingtième rolls of the province, that is to say a record of all the changes in
property ownership’.48 With the latent opposition of the privileged, backed
by the Parlement of Dijon, progress was painfully slow.49 Frustrated by the
non-cooperation of local tax assessors and municipal officers, the élus is-
sued a further deliberation, on 11 February 1786, admitting that their census
had produced ‘greater confusion than that it was supposed to remedy’ and
appointing ‘commissioners’ from their chamber to oversee the work.50 By
the next assembly of the Estates, in November 1787, the alcades were able
to report that the work was advancing, and to make the remarkable obser-
vation that the province contained ‘property that is not taxed’.51 Although
the beneficiaries of that oversight were not identified, it seems highly likely
that they were from amongst the wealthier taxpayers. At the Estates of 1787,
the winds of change finally proved irresistible and noble opposition to the
principle of fiscal equality collapsed.52 This was more a sign of the changing
political climate than any conversion on the part of the second estate, which
44 See chapters 3, 6 and 10. 45 ADCO C 3306, fols. 177–8, remarques of 1775.
46 AN H1 134, dos. 4, fol. 63, ‘Project d’instruction (1781)’, and ibid., fol. 68, ‘Observations sur quelques
articles de l’instruction pour mm. les commissaires du roi à l’assemblée des états de Bourgogne’.
47 ADCO C 3012, fols. 16–17.
48 ADCO C 3365, fol. 26, the élus to the receivers of the taille, 13 February 1782.
49 The Parlement had issued an arrêt in 1768 blocking these verifications, and the crown was effectively
encouraging the élus to ignore its opposition, AN H1 134, dos. 4, fol. 68, ‘Observations sur quelques
articles de l’instruction’.
50 ADCO C 3241, fols. 245–51. 51 ADCO C 3307, fol. 28. 52 See chapter 10.
had defended its own pecuniary interests to the last. However, the presence
of a reformist movement within the Estates should not be forgotten, and if
it had made slow progress in breaking down the barriers of fiscal privilege
its efforts had not been in vain.
The final plank in the reform programme concerned the receivers of
the taille, whose annual ‘treaties’ abbé de La Goutte had unsuccessfully
attempted to enforce to the letter. Any respite for the tax collectors was
short-lived, and, in July 1779, the new élus sent a circular letter informing
the receivers that their intention was to enforce ‘the ancient regulations con-
cerning the collection of taxation’.53 They further requested that a monthly
account of monies received for each of the different impositions be sent to
Dijon for examination. The unwritten message for the receivers was clear,
any arrears would have to be accounted for. It was, however, the deliber-
ation of 18 December 1781 that really tightened the administrative screw.
In their preamble, the élus referred to 1.4 million livres in tax arrears, at-
tributing that backlog not to the plight of the poorer taxpayers, but to the
delaying tactics of the better off.54 As for the receivers they had no excuse
for not making their payments on time because their fees were intended
to compensate them for the ‘advances that the difficulty of collection can
force them to make’.
The text repeated much of what the élus of 1775–8 had claimed in their
suppressed deliberations of 1 February 1776 and 19 February 1777, and it
laid down a series of strict guidelines for future tax payments. All taxes
levied prior to 1784 were to be received before 1 November of that year,
and those receivers who failed to comply risked losing their fees.55 As for
taxes raised during 1784, they were to be paid in equal instalments, with
a deadline of June 1786 for the final accounts to be presented to the trea-
surer general. He was, in turn, to present his accounts for the tax year
1784 in October 1786, and any unauthorised delays would result in the
loss of fees. The pressure on the receivers was further increased on 1 May
1786 when the élus ordered them to maintain a daily register of the funds
entering their caisse.56 As a result of these measures the usually critical
alcades felt able to assure the assembled Estates, in November 1787, that
payments were now being made on time.57 Some corroborating evidence
53 ADCO C 3364, fol. 175, the élus to the receivers of the taille, 14 July 1779.
54 ADCO C 3452, ‘Déliberation de mm. les élus généraux . . . qui règle les termes, où, à l’avenir, les
deniers de chacune des impositions de la province, seront versés à la caisse generalle, par les receveurs
particuliers’, 18 December 1783.
56 ADCO C 3446, deliberation of 1 May 1786. The receivers were also obliged to send their regular
monthly accounts to Dijon within seven days of the end of a given month.
57 ADCO C 3307, fols. 32–3.
can be found amongst the correspondence of the receivers themselves. In
August 1785, Hubert Charles Languet de Livry, whose family had served
at Arnay-le-Duc for over a century, sent a desperate requête to the élus ex-
plaining his failure to meet their deadlines.58 He claimed to have exhausted
‘all the legitimate means available to him’, and, as he was not the only
receiver in distress,59 it suggests that the new regulations were beginning to
bite.
When examining the Burgundian fiscal administration in the eighteenth
century it is not difficult to find fault. Despite the repeated efforts of the
alcades, both the Estates and the élus proved unwilling to approve the general
visit needed to root out some of the more glaring abuses in the adminis-
tration of the taille. While it is true that the élus continued to sanction
nouveaux pieds de taille, and could also call upon their own local knowledge
and that of the receivers, it is possible that by mid-century tax collection
was less equitable than during the reign of Louis XIV. The very real in-
equalities present in the distribution of the capitation and the vingtièmes
were equally disturbing, with the privileged classes enjoying the fruits of
the abonnement system and using their influence at Versailles and in the
Parlement of Dijon to keep it that way. However, the Estates were not just
concerned with defending privileged interests,60 and a reform movement
was also present. Advances were made in the administration of the taille and
in controlling the actions of the receivers, and by the reign of Louis XVI
the issue of fiscal equality was gradually superseding that of administrative
efficiency.
p u b l i c wo rk s
Travelling on the roads in Burgundy during the reign of Louis XIV was a
hazardous business, and potholes, mud and highwaymen were all potential
death traps for the unwary. The Estates were conscious of the problem,
and the appointment of a qualified engineer in 1682 and the adoption of
a series of reforming décrets, especially that of 1688, promised to improve
matters.61 The long and costly wars of 1688–97 and 1701–13 put paid to such
hopes, but in 1715 the Estates reaffirmed the décret of 1688 and authorised
the drafting of a map outlining the principal routes for construction and
repair. At the assembly of 1721, the Estates issued a new décret codifying
existing procedures, specifying the amounts to be spent on the various
58 ADCO C 3449, ‘Requête de Languet de Livry’, 5 August 1785.

59 ADCO C 3366, fols. 174–6, abbé de La Fare to Avirey, receiver of Semur-en-Auxois, 28 April, 1785,
and the attached ‘Requête du sieur Champeaux d’Avirey aux élus’.
60 The conclusion reached by Ligou, ‘Problèmes fiscaux’, 124–7. 61 See chapter 7.
highways and the rules for the awarding and verification of public works
contracts.
These worthy efforts were slow to take effect, and travellers during the
first third of the eighteenth century soon discovered that Burgundy’s roads
were paved with little more than good intentions. The élus regularly re-
ceived angry letters from ministers at Versailles protesting about the state
of the provincial highways, and no less a figure than the cardinal de Fleury
described them as a ‘disgrace’ in October 1735.62 The governor also com-
plained, in May 1731, that he was tired of hearing adverse reports about the
state of the roads, and urged them to use whatever methods were necessary
to improve them.63 Within the assemblies of the Estates the alcades added
their voice to the chorus, arguing that the failure to enforce the décrets of
the Estates was the root cause of the problem.64 In their censored remarques
of 1742 they went further, suggesting that lax administration allowed many
works contracts to be issued without any formal public process of bidding.65
According to their calculations the provincial engineer had distributed con-
tracts worth at least 100,000 livres in the period 1740–2, without inviting
rival entrepreneurs to compete. The stench of corruption was in the air,
and these suspicions seemed doubly justified by the fact that the provincial
engineer, Morin, had recently been sacked amidst allegations of shoddy
workmanship and graft.66
Under pressure from all sides, the élus had little choice but to try and
improve matters. At an administrative level, they took the decision to divide
the responsibilities of the engineer and his deputy, making each accountable
for a section of the road network.67 More importantly, in May 1731, the élus
decided to appoint commissioners from within the chamber, namely the
treasurer general and the two secrétaires des états, to make regular inspec-
tions of the roads and to verify that public works had been satisfactorily
completed before authorising final payments.68 The new system quickly
took hold, becoming part of the already impressive administrative port-
folios of the permanent officers, although we should also note that the
62 ADCO C 3360, fol. 126, Fleury to the élus, 15 October 1735. He was not alone in his complaints, see:
ADCO C 3354, fol. 10, Dodun to the élus, 26 April 1723, and ADCO C 3360, fol. 35, Dodun to the
intendant, La Briffe, 25 March 1726.
63 ADCO C 3360, fol. 89, duc de Bourbon to the élus, 2 May 1731.
64 ADCO C 3049, fols. 429–30, remarques of 1721, and ibid., fols. 501–2, for those of 1724.
65 ADCO C 3304, fols. 49–51.
66 For a full account of the engineer’s disgrace, see Blin, ‘Le procès de Pierre Morin’.
67 ADCO C 3177, fol. 73.
68 The plan was drawn up after the chamber had received further complaints from the governor,
ADCO C 3360, fol. 89, the élus to the duc de Bourbon, 6 May 1731, and ibid., Bourbon to the élus,
7 May 1731.
élus continued to visit sites themselves.69 These measures coincided with a
more rigorous use of the corvée on the highways and a progressive increase
in the sums spent on public works. At their meeting of 1715, the Estates had
pledged an annual sum of 60,000 livres for the construction and upkeep
of the province’s roads,70 in 1757 that rose to 100,000 livres,71 and in 1781 it
was increased again to the impressive total of 200,000 livres.72 Moreover,
these were only the official guidelines, and there is some evidence that the
élus spent more.73
One of the great achievements of the reign of Louis XV was the devel-
opment of a national road network, and the pressure for improvement in
Burgundy was undoubtedly coming from the government in Versailles.74
Yet it would be misleading to suggest that the Estates were only reacting to
the demands of the crown, and from the 1730s onwards a real enthusiasm
was detectable. At the Estates of 1736, the traditionally critical alcades de-
clared that ‘we can not praise the zeal and attention of the élus too highly . . .
travellers no longer need fear, as in the past, setting out in the country even
in the worst seasons’.75 Thereafter the remarques were effusive in their praise.
In 1751, the alcades declared: ‘it is with genuine satisfaction that we see the
roads of the province in a state of perfection that we owe to the care and
attention of the élus’.76 Nor was this mere flattery. In May 1761, the new
intendant, Jean-François Dufour de Villeneuve, informed the contrôleur
général that ‘in truth, the élus have until now made excellent use of their
jurisdiction’, and even the legendary Daniel Trudaine, chief architect of the
expansion of the kingdom’s road network under Louis XV, was impressed.77
The contrast with the earlier period could not be clearer, and the change
of tone in the correspondence with the ministry is striking. Gone are the an-
nual complaints about the disgraceful state of the roads in Burgundy, instead
it was the élus who now wrote to Versailles bemoaning the poor condition
of the highways in neighbouring provinces. As they informed Calonne, in
February 1786, they observed ‘with displeasure that the généralités to which
these roads lead offer neither commerce, nor travellers, the same facilities
as our own’.78 More positively, the élus established regular contacts with
69 For a number of examples from 1750, see ADCO C 3198, fols. 45–6, 216, 467.
70 ADCO C 3001, fol. 278. 71 ADCO C 3006, fol. 81. This was at the request of the crown.
72 ADCO C 3047, fol. 99, and C 3048, fols. 82–3 73 ADCO 1 F 460, fols. 61–2.
74 Demands for increases in spending were usually part of the instructions of the governor that were
presented to the Estates.
77 AN H1 126, dos. 3, fol. 57, Dufour de Villeneuve to Bertin, 23 May 1761, and ADCO C 3362, fol.
127, Trudaine to the élus, 13 October 1762.
78 ADCO C 3357, the élus to Calonne, 11 February 1786. The remonstrances of the Estates are full of
similar complaints after 1737, C 3331, fols. 47, 68, 79.
the intendants of Champagne, Franche-Comté and Paris with the aim of
coordinating their construction programmes and thus helping to overcome
some of these problems.79 According to Saint Jacob, the results were im-
pressive, producing ‘a network that was just about definitive, to which the
nineteenth century added no more than minor junctions’.80
Success brought pride and confidence, and in 1754 the Estates began a
campaign to have their jurisdiction over the highways, which had been re-
newed every three years since 1708, made permanent.81 The crown initially
refused on the basis that such a privilege might lead to complacency,82
but the Estates continued to petition and their persistence was eventu-
ally rewarded in December 1785 when the king awarded the jurisdiction
for ‘an indefinite period conforming to the wish so often expressed by the
Estates’.83 If the main highways had predictably attracted the greatest atten-
tion, calls for the improvement of the minor roads (chemins finerots) were
also voiced at the Estates from the mid-century.84 From the perspective of
the élus, it was vital to have the same jurisdiction over the minor roads
as the highways, but it took repeated remonstrances before the king was
finally persuaded in December 1776.85 The crown’s reluctance to transfer
the jurisdiction to the Estates resulted from a wholly justified fear of the
likely reaction of the Parlement of Dijon.86 When the king’s decision was
made public remonstrances flew back and forth, but it was the Estates that
emerged triumphant and by 1789 their control over the administration of
the province’s roads was complete.
t h e c o rv é e a n d i ts v i ct i m s
If the Estates could take pride in their achievement, the human cost was
heavy. The great advances in road building were made possible, in part, by
a more rigorous use of the corvée, with the ordinary people of the coun-
tryside performing forced labour on the main highways after 1727.87 It was
79 See: ADCO C 3363, fol. 215, Trudaine to the élus, 12 March 1774; C 3364, fols. 144–5, the élus to the
intendants of Champagne and Paris, 31 December 1778; and C 3357, fols. 1–14.
80 P. de Saint Jacob, ‘Le réseau routier bourguignon au XVIIIe siècle’, Annales de Bourgogne 28 (1956),
253–63, esp. 259.
81 The alcades first suggested the idea, ADCO C 3306, fol. 43, but it soon became a feature of the
cahier des remontrances.
82 AN H1 126, dos. 3, fol. 57, Dufour de Villeneuve to Bertin, 23 May 1761.
83 The terms employed by the alcades, ADCO C 3307, fol. 39.
84 See, for example, the décret of 1751, ADCO C 3005, fol. 73. 85 ADCO C 3334, fols. 41–3.
86 The intendant, Dupleix de Bacquencourt, predicted trouble in his observations on the remonstrances
presented by the élus in 1779, AN H1 133, dos. 1, fol. 20, ‘Observations sur les cahiers de Bourgogne
(1779)’.
87 For the details of the décret regulating the corvée in Burgundy, see ADCO C 3003, fols. 4–6.
unpaid, hard manual work and also extremely dangerous. In January 1750,
Joseph Larmes of Tournus lost his sight when a mine exploded unexpect-
edly, and Marie Arbilly of Nuits-Saint-Georges lost her leg in an accident a
few months later, the élus paying them seventy-two and sixty livres in com-
pensation respectively.88 In the same year, Anne Nicolle, a young woman
of twenty-three was crushed to death near Thorey, as were Jean Ternant
and a mason named Ferrey.89 Both men left pregnant widows, one with
six young children, the other with two, and they were offered compen-
sation of eighty and one hundred livres, far from princely sums in their
tragic circumstances. These examples were typical of the period,90 and not
surprisingly the corvée was hated.
Many within the Estates were understandably uneasy about the use of the
corvée. In 1739, the alcades proposed a series of reforms designed to ‘lighten
a yoke that the peoples . . . find extremely difficult to support’.91 Amongst
their suggestions were limits on the number of days worked, exemption
during times of sowing or harvest, payment for those obliged to labour
more than two leagues from their homes and a reduction of the community’s
taille. Criticism of the corvée surfaced intermittently thereafter, and, in 1769,
the alcades went further. After attacking the system as unjust and ‘a real
evil in itself’, they proposed that the Estates adopt a practice pioneered
elsewhere in the kingdom, where the corvée had been replaced by a cash
payment.92 The reaction was at best lukewarm, and the matter lapsed until
the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI when the political situation was
transformed.
The new contrôleur général, Turgot, had been one of the first to experi-
ment with commuting the corvée into a cash payment when serving as the
intendant of Limoges, and he intended to apply his measures to the whole
of the kingdom.93 As a result, the governor’s instructions for the Estates
of 1775 contained an article abolishing the corvée, and it was approved
unanimously without great difficulty.94 Unfortunately for both Turgot and
Burgundy’s corvéables, Louis XVI dismissed his enlightened minister in
May 1776 and the reform was put on hold. The élus did, however, make
88 ADCO C 3198, fols. 126–8, 275. 89 Ibid., fols. 171, 175–6, 235–6.
90 In their remarques of 1739, the alcades referred to the frequency of similar accidents, ADCO C 3050,
fols. 356.
91 ADCO C 3050, fols. 354–7.
92 ADCO C 3306, fols. 141–2. For a discussion of some of the problems involved, see W. Doyle, The
parlement of Bordeaux and the end of the old regime, 1771–1790 (London, 1974), pp. 231–48.
93 D. Dakin, Turgot and the ancien regime in France (London, 1939), pp. 63–78.
94 AN H1 131, dos. 2, fol. 6, ‘Projet d’instruction’, and ibid., fol. 38, Condé to Turgot, 18 May 1775,
and ADCO C 3046, fol. 229.
one decisive step, abolishing the use of the corvée on the military convoys
passing through the province.95 They also invited members of the public
to submit their own projects for a more general reform of the corvée in
1777, and the alcades kept up the pressure at the Estates of 1778, arguing
that ‘everyone is convinced by experience that the method used for the last
forty years to build the roads is vicious and must be changed’.96 In an age
when drafting programmes of administrative reform was almost a national
sport, the new élus received a predictably large quantity of contradictory
advice.97 Unsure of how best to act, they compromised by doing nothing.
It was not until February 1784 that a new set of élus took up the baton
of reform, producing a long deliberation that was designed to lighten the
burden of the corvée.98 Inspired by a spirit of rationalisation apparent in
their other reforms, they divided up the various communities obliged to
work on the highways into four sub-departments and thirty two ‘direc-
tions’ with the aim of giving them a fair share of the burden. Calonne
replied encouragingly, suggesting that free bread rations be distributed to
the corvéables,99 and he soon unveiled more ambitious plans to abolish the
corvée altogether.100 The élus persuaded him to refer the necessary orders
to the next meeting of the Estates, which agreed to suppress the corvée
from 1 July 1788 and thereafter to use private entrepreneurs appointed after
a process of public bidding. The former corvéables would now pay with
their hard-earned cash rather than the sweat of their brows, and the élus
would ‘tax, both for the maintenance of existing roads and for the con-
struction of any new ones . . . a sixth of the taille and capitation of the
taillables combined’.101 The privileged classes, which benefited most from
the province’s handsome road network, clearly felt no obligation to pay for
its upkeep. Worse still, the élus added insult to injury by enforcing the corvée
in certain bailliages until the 1 July deadline, while simultaneously taxing
the population for the costs of its replacement for the whole of 1788!102
The Estates of Burgundy had, therefore, proved capable of constructing
a road network that could match anything achieved by the intendants. Yet
96 ADCO C 3306, fol. 200. 97 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 62.
98 ADCO C 3366, fol. 33, the élus to the ministry and the prince de Condé, 16 February 1784.
99 Ibid ., fol. 42, Calonne to the élus, 1 March 1784.
100 ADCO C 3357, fol. 124, Calonne to the élus, 25 April 1786, and ibid ., fol. 155, 9 July 1786, for their
reply.
101 ADCO C 3048, fols. 76–7.
102 This was one of the most common complaints of the rural population of Bar-sur-Seine in their
cahiers de doléances of 1789, J. J. Vernier, ed., Cahiers de doléances du bailliage de Troyes et du bailliage
de Bar-sur-Seine pour les États Généraux de 1789, 3 vols. (Troyes, 1909–11), i, pp. 493, ii, pp. 239–40,
252, 323.
the dependence upon extensive use of the corvée, and the reluctance to
replace it with an alternative system of cash payment before 1788, tarnished
that achievement. As the élus controlled the tax system, there was nothing
to prevent them from implementing the kinds of reforms pioneered by
Turgot and advocated by the alcades. Their reluctance to do so led to the
continuation of a harsh and unpopular institution that was a major cause
of dissatisfaction with the Estates in 1789.
c a n a l s a n d wat e rway s
One of the crowning achievements of the ministry of the great Colbert
was the construction of the Canal du Midi, but his efforts to build a
Canal de Bourgogne had foundered. The dream lived on, however, and
throughout the reign of Louis XV ministers and ambitious engineers sought
unsuccessfully to revive the project.103 In 1775, the crown made a further
effort at persuading the Estates to approve spending of up to 40,000 livres,
but little was achieved.104 As one informed observer wrote a few years later,
‘His Majesty asked for nothing, and we paid nothing’,105 which implies
that the Estates were no more enthusiastic in 1775 than they had been a
century earlier. Three years later, however, the mood had changed, and in
a décret voted during the assembly of 1778 the Estates ordered the élus to
petition the crown for the work to be accelerated.106
This time real progress was made, and the Estates used their reputation
for sound credit to raise substantial sums to finance the project.107 Urged
on by an enthusiastic governor,108 the Estates committed themselves to
building the Canal de Bourgogne, connecting the Saône and Rhône with
the Yonne and Seine between Saint-Jean-de-Losne and La Roche via Dijon,
and two other waterways. Of these, the Canal du Centre was by far the
most expensive and quickly advanced of the three,109 and was to run from
Chalon-sur-Saône to Digoin in order to make ‘the junction of the two
seas’ by the rivers Saône and Rhône with the Loire. The second, the canal
of Franche-Comté, was to be built between Saint-Symphorien and Dole,
103 For a far from exhaustive sample of these projects, see: ADCO C 3176, fols. 202–3, 208–9; ADCO
C 3362, fol. 187, Bertin to the élus, 5 October 1764; AN H1 129, dos. 1, fol. 3, ‘Projet d’instruction,
1772’; and AN H1 129, dos. 2, fol. 18, abbé Terray to the élus, 13 May 1772.
104 AN H1 131, dos. 2, fol. 6, ‘Projet d’instruction’ (1775). 105 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 107.
106 ADCO C 3011, fol. 33. 107 Well over twelve million livres by 1789, see chapter 10.
108 Condé was a keen backer of the plan to build the canal du Charolais, ADCO C 3364, fol. 197,
Condé to the élus, 4 December 1779, and he urged the élus to begin work in 1779. They preferred
to await the next meeting of the Estates, held in 1781, which gave the necessary authorisation.
109 It was initially known as the Canal du Charolais.
which would then continue to Strasbourg in order to link the Saône and
the Rhine.110 Overseen by the impressive engineers of the Estates, Gauthey
and Dumorey, and aided by the hard labour of royal troops, work advanced
relatively rapidly. As the canals began to attract the attention of the wider
French public and foreign dignitaries, provincial pride swelled correspond-
ingly, and the Estates struck medals celebrating their achievement. Had the
revolution not intervened, these projects would almost certainly have been
completed, and the Canal du Centre was in fact opened in 1791, although
the Canal de Bourgogne took much longer and was not inaugurated until
the reign of Louis-Philippe.
The Estates themselves would not live to tell the tale, but their achieve-
ment in sponsoring the construction of three canals during the reign of
Louis XVI should not be underestimated. After showing considerable re-
luctance, the Estates had eventually been won over showing what they
were capable of when sufficiently motivated. The contrast with events be-
fore 1775 was clear, and we should also note that the Estates of Brittany,
which had similar powers, achieved nothing comparable before 1789.111 The
management of the province’s rivers was another preoccupation of the élus
after 1780. Pressure for action had again come from the centre, and the
secrétaire d’état, Bertin, initially asked the intendant to gather information
on the state of the rivers.112 Once informed, the minister turned to the élus
who launched the provincial engineer, Thomas Dumorey, on a voyage of
discovery down the Saône from Gray to Lyon in August 1779. All sides
agreed that the riverbed was in a lamentable state, with sandbanks, sunken
trees and other obstacles a constant threat to boatmen, and the élus were
keen to improve matters.
However, before committing themselves to act, they demanded the same
jurisdiction over the waterways as that they already enjoyed relative to the
province’s roads. Both the ministry and the intendant were reluctant to
cede these rights, but the élus stood firm citing ‘the most precious privilege
that the province of Burgundy enjoys, that of implementing freely the
enterprises conducted at its expense’.113 The importance of this point to
the Estates cannot be exaggerated and the acquisition of new powers was
intimately linked to their control of the fiscal system. The government
eventually conceded the point and by letters patent of 25 January 1781 the
110 ADCO C 3306, fol. 234. 111 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, pp. 436–9, 763.
112 A helpful introduction is provided by L. Blin, ‘La juridiction des eaux et forêts sur la Saône transférée
aux élus de Bourgogne (1781)’, Mémoires de la Société pour l’Histoire du Droit et des Institutions des
anciens pays bourguignons, comtois et romands 31 (1972), 167–85.
113 Ibid., 182.
élus were granted full administrative and jurisdictional competence over
the Saône. Thereafter they were quick to act with the engineers dredging
the river and repairing its banks and quays as well as investing over 200,000
livres in a bid to make the rivers Seille and Arroux navigable.114 If the interest
of the Estates in the province’s waterways was rather belated they had at
least produced some positive results.
m i l i ta ry m at t e r s
During the long wars of Louis XIV, the need to provision and pay for the
military étapes had been a constant heavy burden. The eighteenth century
brought something of a respite, and the élus continued to preside over the
administration in much the same way as before with communities billeting
troops and then receiving reimbursements from provincial funds.115 It was
only during the War of the Austrian Succession that the numbers of men
passing through the province threatened to reach the levels of the earlier
period. In response, the élus decided to establish an étapier général who
would provide the food and lodgings required for a fixed fee, his profit
being derived from his ability to supply these commodities more cheaply
than the price of his lease.116 The secretary of state for war, d’Argenson,
applauded their decision and a local entrepreneur, Jean Benoı̂t, was soon
appointed.117
Many years before, Colbert had tried to persuade the Estates to adopt this
method, and their failure to do so has been sharply criticised by subsequent
historians.118 The results of the experiment were, however, disappointing.
Benoı̂t began his nine-year lease in April 1747, and within months the élus
were receiving complaints from the mayor of Bourbon-Lancy about the
failure of the étapier to fulfil his obligations.119 Matters quickly deteriorated
with similar reports reaching Dijon from the angry mayors of Auxonne,
Mâcon and Seurre in the Spring of 1750.120 According to Benoı̂t, the cause of
the problem was the low value of his fee in a period when poor harvests had
114 ADCO C 3307, fols. 47–8.
115 The Estates continued to argue about whether the élus or their local officials should oversee this
process. In 1718, the élus were ordered to act themselves, ADCO C 3002, fol. 34, but in a décret of
1724 responsibility was passed back to the receivers of the taille.
116 ADCO C 3360, fol. 309, the élus to the comte d’Argenson, 20 December 1746.
117 ADCO C 3354, fol. 116, d’Argenson to the élus, 31 December 1746.
118 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , pp. 153–63, was especially critical.
119 ADCO C 3678, the mayor and echevins of Bourbon-Lancy to the élus, 22 May 1748. They claimed
that neither Benoı̂t, nor his clerks had been seen since July 1747 and that the town was having to
pay their bills.
120 ADCO C 3198, fols. 197–8, 223–4, 270.
led to soaring prices of basic foodstuffs, and he demanded compensation
of no less than 312,526 livres.121 The matter was eventually settled before the
royal council, which dissolved the lease between the Estates and Benoı̂t and
awarded the latter an indemnity of 51,816 livres. This sorry tale concluded
with the crown reaffirming that the élus would remain responsible for the
administration of the étapes.122
It was against this background that the élus issued their deliberation
of 30 December 1751 re-establishing the old system of étapes, albeit with
an important modification. Henceforth the municipal authorities would
have the choice of sending in their monthly claims for reimbursement as
before, or of appointing a local étapier who would be responsible for the
étape.123 Many towns did prefer to appoint a local étapier, whose potential
for profit lay in providing the billet for less than the Estates were willing
to pay per soldier, and the system appears to have worked relatively ef-
ficiently. A second deliberation of 28 December 1752 appointed the two
secrétaires des états to act as special commissioners to oversee the function-
ing of the system. The voluminous correspondence of the élus contains
only occasional grumbling from the local intendant about their actions.124
All of his complaints concerned the alleged insufficiency of the fees paid
to the étapiers, a crime that in some eyes might have seemed more like a
virtue.
To billet the troops effectively, the Burgundian administration required
accurate information about the numbers involved and the routes they were
expected to follow. The government was frequently lax in this department
and in both September 1785 and August 1788 hundreds of soldiers marched
into Dijon unannounced.125 What made their arrival doubly vexing was
the fact that the secretary of state for war, or one of his clerks, had sent the
relevant instructions to the intendant, who, as the élus remarked, was often
based in Bourg-en-Bresse. The crown had little excuse for these errors be-
cause throughout the period the Burgundian administration had attempted
to regularise the system of étapes. In 1718, the Estates had remonstrated about
121 For the full details of this dispute see: ADCO C 3361, fols. 108–9, 111, the élus to Machault
d’Arnouville, 13 August 1750; ibid., fol. 117, the élus to the intendant, Joly de Fleury, 7 December
1750; and C 3678, ‘Extrait des registres du conseil d’état’ of 14 December 1751.
122 ADCO C 3678, ‘Extrait des registres du conseil d’état’ of 14 December 1751.
123 Ibid ., deliberations of 30 December 1751 and 28 December 1752.
124 I have found two examples of this, the first affecting the town of Seurre, ADCO C 3356, fol. 38,
Dupleix de Bacquencourt to the élus, 23 January 1777, and Feydeau de Brou to the élus, 4 September
1781, and ibid., Rousselot to Feydeau de Brou, 8 September 1781, for the response of the secrétaire
des états responsible. The second case concerns the parish of Laysbillot, near the frontier with
Champagne, ADCO C 3357, fol. 61, Amelot de Chaillou to the élus, 19 March 1785.
125 ADCO C 3366, fols. 200–1, the élus to Ségur, 17 September 1785, and C 3358, fol. 201, the élus to
the comte de Brienne, 28 August 1788.
the fact that three separate regiments had marched down the same route all
stopping at different points, making provisioning extremely difficult.126 By
1766, the improvements in the provincial road network meant that the élus
were in a position to propose a remedy, sending a memoir to the duc de
Choiseul containing ideas for new military routes that would be faster and,
therefore, cheaper.127 The imperious minister was not a man to suffer fools
gladly, and it is instructive to note that he approved their suggestions a few
weeks later.128 The exercise was repeated regularly thereafter, and in 1787
the chamber produced an impressive map illustrating the routes through
the province and the sites of the various étapes.129
Finally, if the élus could claim to have dealt reasonably effectively with
the traditional problems of the étapes, they were also confronted by peri-
odic crises. During the War of the Austrian Succession, in particular, large
numbers of Dutch prisoners of war were sent to Burgundy, and had to be
securely lodged and fed by the administration.130 In 1783, a problem of a
different sort presented itself, when French soldiers were employed to dig
the Canal du Centre.131 The inhabitants of the region were none too pleased
at the prospect of housing the troops, and the old lady in Paray-le-Monial
who threatened to empty her chamber pot on the head of the first soldier to
enter ‘chez elle’ presumably spoke for many.132 Local humour cannot have
been improved by the activities of the military men when not engaged in
their excavations, and the Estates were soon obliged to pay for a hospital to
treat the effects of venereal disease. It was to counter these problems that
the chamber agreed to pay for the construction of barracks in September
1783.133
In its response to the administrative problems posed by the presence or
movement of the military, the chamber of élus had continued its traditional
practice of reimbursing the individuals and communities affected by the
passage of troops, and had experimented, not always successfully, with
different methods of improving the system. More importantly, they had
acted in much the same way as the intendants in the pays d’élections by
providing the government with information and even perceptive plans for
the improvement of the system.
126 The complaint came from the alcades and was presented in the cahier de remontrances, ADCO C
3049, fol. 368.
127 ADCO C 3362, fol. 236, the élus to Choiseul, 12 April 1766.
128 Ibid., fol. 241, Choiseul to the élus, 4 May 1766.
129 The secretary of state for war, Ségur, thanked the élus for their assistance in March 1784, ADCO C
3357, fol. 18. The map is reproduced in Lamarre, Petites villes, p. 307.
130 ADCO C 3677, d’Argenson to the élus, 25 July 1746. 131 ADCO C 3365, fols. 200–1, 221.
132 Ibid ., fols. 200–1, Durand, mayor of Paray, to Bernard de Chanteau, 14 August 1783.
133 Ibid ., fol. 221, Bernard de Chanteau to the commandant of Burgundy, Gouvernet, 27 September
1783.
Much the same could be said of their raising of the provincial militia
which was another legacy from the wars of Louis XIV.134 Each year the
élus received orders to assemble a body of recruits who were to be handed
over to the intendant at agreed muster points. The actual drawing of lots
was presided over by the receivers of the taille or the mayors, although the
secrétaires des états and even the élus participated in the process.135 The élus
were always anxious to preserve their right to raise the militia, and this
could often bring them into conflict with the ministry. From the perspec-
tive of the secretary of state for war, orders to assemble a certain number
of men were not open to dispute. The élus, on the other hand, were less
likely to be intimidated than the intendants, and they regularly protested
that the numbers required were too high on account of the miserable state
of the province or some earlier precedent.136 Suspicion, possibly justified,
that the élus were engaging in obstructionism produced a number of min-
isterial broadsides against their administration. One of the most common
charges levelled against them was of carrying out orders to the letter by, for
example, providing exactly the number of recruits demanded by the crown.
Once illness and desertion had taken their toll Burgundy quickly dropped
below its quota, to the obvious annoyance of the minister of war.137
Not that conflict was endemic, and the provincial administration fre-
quently assisted the government in its task. The secrétaire des états, Bernard
de Blancey, served for nearly fifty years as commissioner for the militia, ac-
quiring immense experience and knowledge in the process. The chamber
allowed him to act in its name, and he wrote regularly to the secretary of
state for war offering advice.138 There is no doubt that the militia was de-
tested, but it was the institution itself, rather than the means by which it had
been raised, that attracted the ire of the ordinary people of the Burgundian
countryside.139
ag r i c u lt u r a l i m p rove m e n t
If French agriculture did not experience a revolution comparable to that in
England, the need to improve the productivity of the land was still a burning
issue throughout the eighteenth century, and it was given a fashionable gloss
134 Martin, Milice en Bourgogne, provides a helpful introduction.
135 In 1730, the receivers protested in vain to the Estates about the financial and other costs involved,
ADCO C 3604. In 1750, for example, the commissioners for the militia included the secrétaire des
états, Bernard de Blancey, and the élu of the third estate, Edme Doublot, mayor of Montbard.
136 For examples of their protests see: ADCO C 3173, fol. 139, the élus to the duc de Bourbon, 30 March
1726, and C 3360, fols. 236–8, fols. 236–8, the élus to d’Argenson, 3 August 1743.
137 ADCO C 3362, fols. 79–80, maréchal de Belle-Isle to the élus, 22 April 1760.
138 ADCO C 3363, fols. 199–201, and ibid., fols. 259–60, Bernard de Blancey to de Muy, 19 April 1775.
139 See chapter 12.
by the economic theories of the Physiocrats. The intendants in many parts
of France did their best to disseminate ideas and promote new methods, and
they were frequently assisted by the presence of local agricultural societies.140
In October 1767, the élus received a letter from the procureurs of Provence
asking whether these societies were required in the pays d’états.141 Although
not opposed to the idea in principle, the élus replied that the Estates had
not seen:
such an institution as necessary in this province . . . given that the persons to whom
they confide the administration of their affairs during their separation are always
assembled, that any projects tending to the improved cultivation of the lands of
the province are addressed to them, and besides they are authorised to spend funds
allocated by the Estates for the encouragement of commerce and agriculture.
They concluded confidently that ‘we would ourselves ask for [an agricultural
society in] Burgundy if by our constitution we did not find ourselves already
in a position to enjoy the benefits that must naturally be the result’.
The élus thus saw themselves as fulfilling the functions of a society of
agriculture, and while their smug reaction smacks of complacency it is
true that after 1750 there was real enthusiasm both within the Estates and
the provincial administration for agricultural improvement. One of the
greatest influences on the Estates was Varenne de Béost, who served as
secrétaire des états from 1752 until 1763.142 In 1760, he presented the Estates
with a long memoir advocating the establishment of an agricultural bureau
composed of ‘persons chosen in the different districts of the province to
correspond directly with the chamber of élus’.143 He was given his way, and
many of the ideas subsequently adopted by the Estates originated within
their administration. As the overwhelming majority of those who attended
the Estates were landowners, Varenne de Béost and his collaborators had a
receptive audience, and over the next decade the remonstrances presented
to Louis XV were crammed with requests for legislation.144
In their petitions to the king, the Estates bemoaned the allegedly
lamentable state of local agriculture and proposed a coherent programme
of reform that might be described as a combination of consolidation and
140 Both Ardascheff, Les intendants, pp. 327–40, and Bordes, ‘Les intendants éclairés’, 63–4, made much
of their efforts in this domain.
141 ADCO C 3356, fol. 51, the élus to the procureurs of Provence, 5 October 1767.
142 His career was cut short because of the Varenne affair, but he continued to advise the Estates in an
unofficial capacity until the revolution, see chapter 10, and Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne,
pp. 339–43.
143 ADCO C 3695, deliberation of 6 February 1761. His memoir has been discussed by Bouchard, De
l’humanisme, pp. 845–52.
144 The remonstrances in question are housed in ADCO C 3332, fols. 42–5, 73–5, 76–80, 132–4, and
have been analysed by Root, Peasants and king, pp. 105–54, to which the following is indebted.
enclosure. In their remonstrances delivered in 1764, 1767 and 1769, they
argued that throughout the province land was divided into a ‘multitude of
tiny plots’, which prevented successful cultivation.145 To combat the prob-
lem the Estates requested that the king suspend the fees collected when
property was exchanged between consenting parties for a period of three
years, and that he issue an edict permitting enclosures.146 Finally, they peti-
tioned for the introduction into Burgundy of the law of August 1761 which
provided a period of tax exemption for those enterprising souls who drained
marshes or cleared land that had been left uncultivated for at least twenty
years.147 As enclosures would affect the rights of parcours, the passage of
flocks to water or meadows, and of common pasture, they too attracted
the attention of reformers, who wanted the practices abolished. Once that
had been achieved, innovative farmers would no longer be subject to the
tyranny of the three-field system and they would become the true masters
of their own property. Finally, the Estates wanted to attack what they rather
poetically described as ‘a vast abandoned continent’,148 namely the village
common lands that they claimed were exhausted and ill tended due to
overgrazing. Their solution was to divide these lands up into small plots
and then distribute them equally amongst the inhabitants on the basis that
possession encouraged good husbandry and investment.
Taken together these demands formed an impressive list, and, after initial
hesitation and consultation with both the intendant and the Parlement of
Dijon, the crown issued most of the necessary legislation. A three-year
moratorium on the taxes levied on property exchanges was granted in 1770
together with an edict permitting enclosures, and in 1774 provision was
made for the division of common lands.149 Hilton Root’s authoritative re-
cent account suggests that the results of all this legislative activity were
disappointing, and a combination of practical difficulties and inertia on
the part of the Burgundian peasantry left the traditional agricultural struc-
ture intact.150 Yet even if this was the case, we should not overlook the fact
that the Estates had played an active part in the attempt to change local
farming practices, and that they were acting broadly in accordance with
contemporary economic and agricultural theory.
If the Estates were generally concerned with the larger questions of agri-
cultural development, the chamber of élus had the opportunity to put some
145 ADCO C 3332, fols. 42–3. 146 Root, Peasants and king, pp. 144–50.
147 The demand was made in 1764, ADCO C 3332, fol. 45, and referred to the arrêt du conseil of 16
August 1761. The request was granted.
148 Quoted in Root, Peasants and king, p. 123 149 Ibid., pp. 124–5, 149–50.
150 Ibid ., pp. 150–4. Saint Jacob, Paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 347–404, was, if anything, even more
pessimistic in his appraisal.
of the theory into practice. In 1724, the crown had persuaded the Estates
to fund the establishment of nurseries (pepinières) intended to produce
saplings, especially of fruit trees, for free distribution to the peasantry.151
The élus were slow to act, and it was not until 1733 that the first nurseries
were established in Dijon, Auxonne and Chalon. It would require renewed
pressure from the alcades and above all from the contrôleur général, Orry, be-
fore the experiment was extended to the other bailliages of the province.152
The enterprising Orry also persuaded the élus to sponsor the cultivation
of mulberry trees, whose leaves were the required nourishment of the silk
worm.153 His aim was to make the kingdom self-sufficient in the production
of raw silk, thus cutting out the need for costly imports, and despite being
more familiar with the cultivation of the vine the élus complied. Teaming
up with the legendary Burgundian naturalist, Buffon, they planted over
4,000 saplings in Dijon and Montbard.154
Once they had overcome their initial reluctance the élus warmed to the
task of encouraging the nurseries and by 1750 a wide variety of fruit trees
and mulberries were being delivered to all sections of the population.155
The Estates were generally supportive, passing a décret in 1757 that ‘the
trees be delivered free of charge and by preference to the people of the
countryside’.156 Yet the results failed to match expectations, and by 1774
the élus were blaming the ‘sluggishness and torpor’ of their fellow citi-
zens for their failure.157 The government clearly shared their pessimism,
and a year later the Estates were asked to suppress the nurseries and to
use the resulting economies to encourage other agricultural endeavours.158
Only the plantations of mulberries escaped the purge, and during the
reign of Louis XVI the élus made serious efforts to promote their cultiva-
tion. An expert was hired from Languedoc to teach local pupils how to
breed silkworms, publicity was disseminated through the local press and
prizes were distributed to successful cultivators.159 Aware that the public was
sceptical about the suitability of the mulberry to the cooler local climate,
151 ADCO C 3043, fol. 66. The province’s attitude to the experiment has been examined by Bouchard,
De l’humanisme, pp. 841–3.
152 ADCO C 3003, fol. 232. The Estates of 1736 tried to limit the extension of the nurseries on the
grounds of expense.
153 ADCO C 3362, fol. 201, Orry to the élus, February 1741.
154 ADCO C 3360, fol. 223, the élus to Orry, 7 August 1742. The choice of Montbard was not accidental,
it was part of Buffon’s own estate.
155 ADCO C 3198, fols. 559–61. Bouchard’s claim, De l’humanisme, pp. 842, that only grands seigneurs
benefited is incorrect.
156 ADCO C 3006, fol. 31.
157 ADCO C 3363, fol. 239, the élus to the intendant, Dupleix de Bacquencourt, 8 December 1774.
158 ADCO C 3010, fol. 16. 159 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, pp. 842–3.
the élus made a genuine, if not altogether successful, attempt to lead by
example.160
If the crown had provided the initial impetus behind the creation of the
nurseries, it had also been responsible for obliging the Estates to pay for
the establishment of a royal stud (haras) in the province early in the reign
of Louis XIV.161 That institution was still in existence, and being paid for,
in the first half of the eighteenth century, and it attracted fierce criticism at
almost every meeting of the Estates. In the remonstrances of 1722 the stud
was described as ‘more onerous than useful’, and in the years that followed
the invective was accompanied by a series of more specific allegations of
abuse.162 What really annoyed the Estates was their obligation to pay for
something that was beyond their direct control, and from mid-century they
launched a campaign to be given full responsibility for the stud. Repeated
remonstrances proved ineffective, but when they used their power over the
purse strings, by refusing to pay the salary of the royal inspector,163 the
crown relented.164
With effect from June 1766 the Estates became the proud owners of the
stud, and they promptly revealed their intentions by tripling the amount
spent over the next three years.165 When the opportunity arose to replace
the royal inspector in April 1775, they were quick to underline their new
authority by appointing a local candidate to replace him. Bertin initially
rejected their choice on the grounds that he was insufficiently qualified.166
The élus successfully defended their right of appointment, refusing to ac-
cept that a ‘foreigner’, however well qualified, could hold a post paid for
by the Estates.167 As with the roads and waterways, the various disputes
over the stud demonstrated that control of provincial spending was cru-
cial to the administrative independence of the Estates and only in extreme
circumstances was the ministry likely to challenge the decisions of the élus.
Yet despite their enthusiasm, miracles could not be performed overnight,
and the stud proved more difficult to manage than the élus had anticipated.
160 The deliberation of 12 February 1785 cited by the alcades of 1787 makes clear that this was the
intention, C 3307, fols. 52–3.
161 See chapter 7.
162 For a selection, see: ADCO C 3050, fols. 85–8, (1727); C 3330, fol. 75 (1729); C 3050, fol. 362 (1739);
and C 3331, fols. 107–8, 125 (1749 and 1751).
163 ADCO C 3332, fols. 23–5. The idea was first suggested by the alcades.
164 See: AN H1 126, fol. 24, Joly de Fleury to Bertin, 2 December 1760; ADCO C 3006, fols. 329;
C 3696, fol. 45, Condé to the élus, 28 February 1766; and AN H1 128, fols. 2, 15, Amelot to L’Averdy,
10 June 1766, and 22 July 1766.
165 AN H1 128, fol. 15, Amelot to L’Averdy, 22 July 1766.
166 ADCO C 3363, fols. 263–4, Bertin to the élus, 11 April 1775.
167 Ibid ., fols. 265–6, the élus to Bertin, 27 April 1775.
In February 1777, they sent Bertin a new plan designed to rescue the stud
from its present state of ‘decay’.168 Their timing was particularly bad. The
abbé de La Goutte had already succeeded in alienating most of the min-
istry, and Bertin had not been spared his own share of vexation. In the
spring of 1776, the élus had abolished the office of gardes étalons as part of
their cost cutting drive, an action that the angry minister had quashed on
2 August.169 By admitting, in February 1777, that the stud was in crisis, the
élus confirmed all of Bertin’s suspicions about their incompetence and that
of their chosen inspector. As a result, he informed the chamber that he was
sending ‘somebody intelligent to the scene to verify the facts reported to
you’.170
It was a resounding vote of no confidence, and the mood within the
Estates was also changing. In 1778, the alcades, who were generally effusive in
their praise of La Goutte’s administration, produced a withering critique of
the stud.171 In an effort to improve the quality of local bloodstock, the élus
had bought stallions from Holstein, but when coupled with local mares
they had produced miserable results. After investing nearly 400,000 livres
in just twelve years it was a very poor return and the alcades proposed that
no more horses be bought. Rather than heed this advice, the next intake of
élus set about improving the system. In 1780, they established a new stud at
Diénay near Dijon, where they could supervise operations independently
of the gardes étalons.172 Mares were imported, and prizes were established
throughout the province for the best foals and fillies. Aware that the royal
studs were experimenting with arab bloodstock, they began, in December
1779, what would prove to be a long campaign to borrow one of these
stallions for Diénay.173 Great was the excitement when the élus received
word, in March 1784, that the Arab stallion, Le Bédouin, was on his way to
Dijon.174 It is easy to imagine their disappointment when the beast actually
arrived. According to secrétaire des états, Rousselot, he was ‘terribly thin,
resulting from the tick’ and a variety of other ailments.175 As if this was not
bad enough, the unfortunate Le Bédouin was ‘a bit short’ for the sturdy
local mares, and if restored to health he would presumably have needed
168 ADCO C 3364, fol. 41, the élus to Bertin, 1 February 1777.
169 AN H1 132, dos. 2, fol. 7, ‘Projet d’instruction’ of 1778. The arrêt du conseil in question ‘émané du
département des haras’.
170 ADCO C 3364, Bertin to the élus, 23 February 1777. 171 ADCO C 3306, fols. 201–2.
172 A long explanation of their policy is provided in the remonstrances of 1782, ADCO C 3334,
fols. 24–9.
173 ADCO C 3364, fols. 205–6, the élus to the bishop of Autun, 21 December 1779.
174 ADCO C 3357, fol. 15, Polignac to the élus, 9 March 1784.
175 ADCO C 3366, fols. 48–9, Rousselot to Polignac, 3 April 1784. He was restored to health and was
eventually auctioned along with the rest of the livestock at Diénay in 1791.
stilts to be of any practical use. The Le Bédouin’s shortcomings were a
fine example of the practical problems involved in running the stud, but
during the last decade of the ancien régime the élus continued to pursue their
ambition to create ‘a new race of bloodstock in Burgundy’ and complaints
about their administration were rare.176
The ambitions of the élus were not limited to the stud, and the estab-
lishment at Diénay gradually began to assume the dimensions of a model
farm. In 1786, they decided to order the importation of over 1,000 sheep
from the Roussillon with the aim of keeping some for breeding at Diénay
while selling the rest at subsidised prices to local farmers.177 Contact was
established with intendants known to be interested in such schemes, and
with the comte d’Angiviller who provided some of the king’s prize Spanish
flock for the provincial farm. To ensure that proper care was taken of their
investment, the élus hired a shepherd from the Roussillon on a one-year
contract to instruct local men in what was intended to be a free school of
shepherding. Through these ventures the élus hoped to improve the volume
and quality of wool production, stimulating agriculture and providing the
raw materials for local industry. They were sufficiently pleased with the
results to organise a second convoy of sheep in the autumn of 1787, and to
extend their breeding programme by buying cattle for Diénay at the same
time.178
With such a keen interest in livestock, it is hardly surprising that the
élus took advantage of developments in veterinary science. In August 1767,
the provincial intendant, Amelot, wrote to inform them that the king had
established a free training school near Charenton, suggesting that they
send some students.179 The élus thanked him politely, noting that they
had already done so, and by November 1770 the province employed five
veterinarians.180 In addition to caring for the animals bought by the élus,
they were regularly sent to the four-corners of the province to deal with out-
breaks of disease. The system worked effectively with constant co-operation
between the élus and the intendant, whose subdelegates were frequently the
first to raise the alarm.181
176 The élus remained upbeat about their efforts, ADCO C 3365, fols. 98–9, the élus to Polignac, 4
January 1783, and I have not found examples of criticism from either the crown or the alcades after
1780.
177 For details of this policy, see: ADCO C 3307, fols. 53–4, 131–2, and ADCO C 3367, fol. 31, the élus
to Caze de La Bove, intendant of Grenoble, 6 March 1787.
178 ADCO C 3357, fol. 162.
179 ADCO C 3362, fols. 282–3, Amelot the the élus, 5 August 1767, and ibid ., fols. 283–4, 3 September
1767, for their reply.
180 ADCO C 3363, fol. 67, Amelot to the élus, 16 November 1770.
181 ADCO C 3357, fol. 46, Amelot to Chaillou to the élus, 4 December 1784, and ibid., fol. 209, the
élus to Amelot de Chaillou, 27 December 1786.
Forming a balanced judgement on the agricultural efforts of the Bur-
gundian administration is difficult, not least because the relatively brief
existence of the ‘model farm’ at Diénay would make any extravagant claims
on its behalf misleading. Local peasants were particularly hard to convince,
and to the disgust of the élus the inhabitants of Diénay and neighbouring
parishes ‘damage, break and destroy the enclosures constructed at great ex-
pense, steal the wood from the fences and commit abuses that it is essential
to suppress’.182 Despite these setbacks the Burgundian administration had
demonstrated a capacity to encourage the kinds of agricultural improve-
ments sponsored by the intendants in the pays d’élections, and its activities
looked considerably more professional in 1789 than at the beginning of the
reign of Louis XVI.
t r a d e a n d co m m e rc e
Colbert had tried without much lasting success to establish thriving manu-
facturing ventures in Burgundy, and during the first half of the eighteenth
century the Estates showed no inclination to repeat the experiment.183 To
try and stimulate local enterprise, the crown added an article to the gov-
ernor’s instructions in 1754 requesting that funds be voted for the encour-
agement of commerce and industry.184 Some 30,000 livres were voted for
this purpose, and at every subsequent assembly the process was repeated.
Once again pressure for action had come from the centre, and according to
Lamarre the Estates never developed any great interest in the matter with
the élus regularly leaving the money available unspent.185 Between 1754 and
1787, she estimates expenditure on genuinely industrial or manufacturing
ventures at only 258,064 livres,186 a relatively small sum when compared with
the amounts spent on, for example, the provincial stud. Yet these figures
need treating with caution because the élus were simultaneously spending
vast sums perfecting the provincial road network, clearing riverbeds and
building canals, thus creating an economic infrastructure that could only
benefit private entrepreneurs.
Most of the investments made by the élus after 1754 were in the form
of bounties, subsidies or loans to individuals and companies establishing
new manufacturing ventures in the province. In 1756, for example, Simon
182 ADCO C 3334, fol. 27.
183 The crown made the odd desultory effort to revive production at Seignelay using provincial funds,
but the Estates showed no desire to act independently, see, for example, ADCO C 3170, fol. 53, the
duc de Bourbon to the élus, 31 January 1723.
184 AN H1 129, dos. 1, fol. 3, ‘Projet d’instruction’ of 1772. The comments of the intendant, Amelot,
on this document provide a summary of events since 1754.
185 Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 217–18. 186 Ibid., p. 217.
Parigot and his partners proposed setting up a ‘manufacture of woollens’,
which obliged them to borrow 63,618 livres, and they appealed to the élus
for help.187 Having verified their accounts, the chamber agreed to pay 3,000
livres annually to cover the interest payments. Others benefited in a similar
way, and the élus regularly provided interest-free loans to encourage invest-
ment after 1784.188 The factory established by Desfossés in Dijon during the
early 1760s to produce cotton textiles received the most substantial aid.189
The city, the Estates and the crown all provided financial assistance, and by
1776 Desfossés claimed to employ more than 1,700 workers either directly
or as spinners of cotton in towns as distant as Louhans or Nolay.190 The
élus had taken a keen interest in the enterprise and had frequently peti-
tioned the ministry on its behalf by demanding protection against cheaper
cottons from Switzerland, or illegal imports that were threatening to under-
mine local production.191 Even when Desfossés and his partners stopped
receiving subsidies after 1775 they could still count upon the support of
the Estates, and in July 1786 the élus were protesting to Calonne about the
unwanted interference of an inspector of manufactures in the affairs of the
company.192
In addition to providing financial aid or petitioning ministers on behalf
of local industry, the élus helped industrial development in other ways.
After the discovery of what were believed to be rich deposits of coal near
Montcenis in 1769, the élus received letters from the intendant and the
secretaries of state, Bertin and Saint-Florentin, urging them to improve
the roads connecting the site with the ports of the Saône.193 The provin-
cial engineer was dispatched to investigate the likely costs, and the élus
promised prompt action if the seams were as rich as had been claimed. In
December 1771, they were confronted with a transport problem of another
sort. Having invested in a factory producing bottles and glass near Roulle,
the élus had decided to improve the surrounding road network, part of
which ran through neighbouring Champagne. As a result, they tried, with-
out success, to get the intendant of that province to lend his assistance.194
188 An idea that won praise from the alcades, ADCO C 3306, fol. 241.
189 For further details see, Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 218–20, and A. Le Roux, ‘Les industries textiles’,
5–33, especially 20–1.
190 Leroux, ‘Les industries textiles’, 21.
191 ADCO C 3363, fol. 272, the élus to the intendant des finances, Trudaine de Montigny, 14 May 1767,
and ibid., fols. 284–5, 3 September 1767.
192 ADCO C 3357, fol. 156, the élus to Calonne, 24 July 1786.
193 ADCO C 3355, fols. 68–9, Amelot to the élus, 10 March 1769.
194 ADCO C 3363, fols. 115–18, the élus to the intendant of Champagne, Rouillé, 11 December 1771,
and C 3356, fol. 2, 26 January 1772, for his reply.
Finally, as with their agricultural projects, the élus established prizes to en-
courage competition, and hired specialists to teach new techniques.195 The
employment of Marie La Ville to teach silk spinning was one example of
a well-intentioned, if not altogether effective, effort to draw some benefit
from the policy of covering large swathes of the countryside with mulberry
trees.
The élus were on more familiar ground when it came to defending the
interests of the province’s crucial wine trade. Throughout the century, there
were calls at the Estates for the enforcement of existing legislation prevent-
ing the local population from grazing their animals or planting vegetables
and other crops in the vineyards.196 The uncontrolled planting of new vines
was another perennial bugbear, and in 1754 the alcades suggested joining
forces with the Parlement of Dijon to protect the quality of Burgundian
wine. Here the interests of the local landowning elites were clearly en-
gaged, and attempts to protect both the production and the marketing of
wine were unsurprising. At the Estates of 1766, for example, a décret was
adopted ordering the towns to prepare memoirs listing the obstacles to the
commerce of wine, so that the élus could seek the appropriate remedies
from the crown during the voyage of honour.197 Similarly, throughout the
period after 1772, the Estates revived their campaign for Burgundy, which
was exempt from the aides, to be relieved of the burden of the droit de gros
levied on wine travelling through regions subject to the aides.198 Internal
customs duties were not the only target of their ire. The duties charged on
Burgundian wines entering Great Britain and a number of German states
were another concern of the élus, who petitioned the powerful secretary
of state for foreign affairs, the comte de Vergennes, a Burgundian, to use
his good offices on their behalf.199 Nor was fine wine the only local bev-
erage to merit their protection. When the crown issued a law banning the
production of the local spirit, the ancestor of the fiery marc de Bourgogne,
the Estates successfully sued for its repeal on the grounds that it served
medicinal purposes.200 Many have had cause to rue the decision.
195 Leroux, ‘Les industries textiles’, 11–12 196 ADCO C 3304, fol. 20, C 3306, fol. 45–6.
197 The élus made sure that the memoirs were forthcoming, ADCO C 3362, fol. 258, the secrétaire
des états, Rigoley de Puligny to the municipal officers of Burgundy, 28 November 1766, and ibid .,
fol. 263, 18 December 1766.
198 For examples of their efforts, see; ADCO C 3302, remarques of the alcades of 1772; C 3364,
fol. 200, Necker to the élus, 17 December 1779; and C 3358, fol. 81, the élus to the contrôleur
général, 20 August 1787. They had been protesting about this intermittently since the reign of
Louis XIV, C 2982, fols. 19–21.
199 ADCO C 3356, fol. 193, Vergennes to the élus, 24 January 1783, and ibid , fol. 218, 30 November
1783. The alcades also provided details of these events, ADCO C 3306, fol. 241.
200 ADCO C 3050, fols. 89–91.
Overall the results of the Estates’ investment in industrial enterprises was
limited, but the argument that they should have been a source of capital
employing provincial tax revenues to subsidise manufacturing industry is
not particularly compelling. Making judgements about the likely success of
a company, or a new industrial technique, was hardly the natural terrain of
either the élus or the Estates. Yet despite lacking detailed specialist knowl-
edge, the élus generally worked in harmony with the local intendant, using
the funds at their disposal in a flexible way for subsidies and training. More-
over, it could be argued that the development of the means of transport
and persistent lobbying for the local wine trade or new industrial ventures,
were more substantial achievements than has usually been recognised.
work s o f i n s t ru c t i o n a n d pu bli c u t il it y
One of the most pressing problems facing the French government in the
eighteenth century was how to deal with the growing number of the poor
and destitute.201 The issue was regularly raised at meetings of the Estates of
Burgundy, and many of the projects for industrial and agricultural innova-
tion discussed above were intended to create employment and alleviate rural
poverty.202 In 1764, however, the reformist ministry of L’Averdy adopted
a more interventionist stance, deciding to establish dépôts de mendicité in
every généralité in the kingdom.203 Beggars were the main targets of the
new legislation, a group that was generally defined to include vagrants, and
the dépôts rapidly ‘became the cornerstone’ of royal policy. The Estates had
already pledged funds to establish houses of correction for unruly beggars
in 1763, and although L’Averdy accused them of dragging their feet the élus
had succeeded in establishing several dépôts by the end of 1766.204
The Estates dutifully voted a further 50,000 livres to support the scheme
in both 1766 and 1769, but the severe economic crisis of 1770–1 raised
problems of another sort. The dépôts were designed to deal with what was
perceived as a criminal class, but it was widely accepted that many had
fallen on hard times for want of work. As a result, in November 1770, the
élus were ordered to establish workshops (ateliers de charité) to employ the
201 O. Hufton, The poor of eighteenth-century France, 1750–1789 (Oxford, 1974), provides the classic
introduction.
202 The attempt to teach silk and cotton spinning to rural women is a good example, Lamarre, Petites
villes, pp. 218–19, and Leroux, ‘Les industries textiles’, 32.
203 Hufton, The poor, pp. 226–7. The essential guide to L’Averdy’s ministry is Félix, L’Averdy.
204 For further details, see: ADCO C 3362, fol. 168, Bernard de Blancey to the mayors of the province,
28 July 1764; ibid, fol. 211, the élus to L’Averdy, 29 December 1764; and ibid ., fols. 237–8, 252,
L’Averdy to the élus, 3 May 1766, and their replies of 11 May and 31 July 1766.
able-bodied poor.205 The local administration revived the plan in 1774,206
pre-empting the measures of Turgot who ordered the élus to extend their
scope in November of that year.207 By May of 1775 public work schemes
had been organised at Dijon and in nine other towns of the province,208 but
they proved incapable of coping with soaring grain prices caused, in part,
by Turgot’s policy of free trade. On 18–19 May, Dijon was wracked by some
of the most violent riots in its history, as angry crowds protested at the high
price of bread. Despite this setback, the Estates remained attracted to the
idea of public works projects, which dovetailed neatly with their attempts
to stimulate economic activity in the countryside.
They were less impressed by the results of the dépôts de mendicité, and
called for their suppression in 1781.209 This was not simply a cost-cutting
exercise, and in their remonstrances they requested that the 50,000 livres be
used to fund the establishment of ‘public workhouses for the employment
of the able bodied poor’ to be supervised by the élus.210 The crown wanted
more information about the project before giving its approval and the
élus decided to let the matter drop, and at both the Estates of 1784 and
1787 a further 50,000 livres was voted for the dépôts de mendicité.211 Recent
experience suggested that little would be achieved, but the Estates were not
alone in being unable to solve the problem of poverty.
The Estates had played an honourable part in the campaign to secure
the establishment of a university in Dijon, and thereafter they were charged
with the costs of its upkeep.212 It had soon become a highly reputable insti-
tution of evident benefit to the province, and the Estates seemed content to
rest on their laurels. When they were asked to subsidise the establishment
of a school of mathematics and science in 1760 they refused.213 In 1767,
however, they did agree to fund the École de dessein and with the backing
of the governor the élus offered prizes for the best painter and sculptor.214
A generous four-year grant was also provided to send the two best pupils
to study in Rome. Urged on by the prince de Condé, the Estates paid for
the provision of public lectures in chemistry after 1775, and the list of these
205 ADCO C 3355, fol. 107, Amelot to the élus, 17 November 1770.
206 AN K 569, fol. 16, Tour du Pin to the prince de Condé, 19 April 1775.
207 ADCO C 3355, fol. 231, Turgot to the élus, 28 September 1774.
208 ADCO C 3363, fol. 267, the élus to Turgot, 6 May 1775. 209 ADCO C 3047, fol. 25.
210 ADCO C 3334, fols. 3–6. Hufton, The poor, p. 231, has noted that the pays d’états, especially
Brittany and Hainaut, were reluctant to advance funds for these purposes, and this was clearly less
of a problem in Burgundy.
211 ADCO C 3048, fols. 26–7.
212 ADCO C 2169, fol. 183, and C 3330, fol. 69. 213 ADCO C 3045, fol. 188.
214 For further details, see: ADCO C 3306, fol. 247; C 3307, fol. 56, and C 3363, fol. 50, the élus to the
prince de Condé, 11 January 1770.
courses was rapidly expanded to include, amongst other things, anatomy,
botany, natural history and mineralogy. If it is sad to report that courses
in history were not amongst their number, individual scholars, notably
the abbé Courtépée, did receive generous financial assistance to aid their
research.215 Inspired by their own success, the élus agreed to pay for lectures
in astronomy in November 1783 and to create an observatory in the tower
of the governor’s residence in the logis du roi.216 Their new interest in the
heavens was accompanied by the wise precaution of installing a lightning
conductor in the Palais des États.
Despite some ill-founded complaints that these courses were ruining the
local Academy of Sciences, they proved very popular and 24,800 livres was
invested between 1776 and 1784.217 Nor was the funding confined to purely
academic subjects. In April 1774, the élus asked local mayors and village
curés to choose intelligent young women to participate in a month-long
course of free instruction in midwifery.218 The women were paid twenty-
four livres each to cover their expenses, and they were given a certificate of
competence once they had completed their training. The midwifery course
became an annual event, attracting women from across the province, and
many were recalled for further instruction in later years.219 The scheme
was not unique to Burgundy, as many of the intendants were sponsoring
similar measures elsewhere, but it was a successful project of undoubted
public utility.
A concern for public well-being inspired some of the other projects
of the élus. In 1751, the intendant, Joly de Fleury, had reported glumly
that the Estates had preserved an ancient prejudice against maps because
they believed ‘that it was wrong to reveal details about the interior of the
province’.220 Such fears had been banished by the reign of Louis XVI and
they were happily paying the fees of the cartographers.221 The élus were
also keen to inform the public. In July 1784, for example, they printed and
distributed pamphlets with the latest advice about how to treat bites by rabid
animals or venomous snakes.222 As wolves were frequently a source of disease
as well as a threat to peasants and their livestock, the élus continued their
215 ADCO C 3363, fol. 252, the prince de Condé to the élus, 23 December 1774, and C 3694.
216 ADCO C 3365, fol. 221, the élus to the prince de Condé, 28 and 29 November 1783.
217 ADCO C 3366, fols. 290–2. D. Roche, Le siècle des lumières en province. Académies et académiciens
provinciaux, 1680–1789, 2 vols. (Paris, 1978), i, p. 121, noted that ‘Le rôle des États provinciaux a
été très important . . . à Dijon où l’assemblée assume tous les frais de l’enseignement organisé par
l’académie’.
218 ADCO C 3363, fols. 218–19, circular letter to mayors and curés, 21 April 1774.
219 ADCO C 3364, fol. 55, and C 3367, fols. 32, 98.
220 AN H1 120, dos. 1, fol. 1, Joly de Fleury to Trudaine, 3 March 1751.
221 Lamarre, Petites villes, p. 112–13. 222 ADCO C 3694, deliberation of 9 July 1784.
traditional practice of offering a bounty for every animal killed. The fee was
sufficiently generous to tempt hunters to import the heads of dead wolves
from neighbouring provinces in an unusual fraud that was denounced at the
Estates of 1769.223 It prompted the alcades to propose the drastic solution
of leaving a poisoned carcass outside every village at the height of winter.
The Estates politely declined their suggestion.
Finally, when dearth or economic crisis threatened, as it did in 1747,
1770–1 and 1775, the provincial administration was quick to act, usually
in concert with the intendant and the Parlement of Dijon. In 1747, for
example, a combination of bad harvests and the war in Provence prompted
the élus to purchase grain.224 Their action earned a harsh rebuke from
the contrôleur général, who accused them of acting hastily and spreading
panic in the process.225 To be fair to the élus their priorities were not
the same as those of the minister, whose eyes were on the needs of the
army, but quarrels of this type were rare. The crisis of 1770–1 saw the
élus buying rice and then selling it at subsidised prices to every village in
the province.226 Given the reluctance of the local population to eat this
exotic dish, they also took the precaution of distributing recipes explaining
how to cook it, suggesting that it be added to soup. As the storm clouds
gathered in the spring of 1789, the élus were busily buying up grain in case of
dearth.
After 1750, the government was prepared to devolve a greater degree of
administrative responsibility to the provincial estates. Rebillon interpreted
this as a sign that they were winning a long-running battle against the
centralising ambitions of the crown, while Legay’s recent study has sug-
gested that they were being employed as part of that centralising process.227
There are a number of problems with these arguments. As we have seen,
conflict was by no means a permanent, or even a common, feature of the
relationship between the Estates of Burgundy and the monarchy, and they
worked together amicably on a wide variety of issues. However, to persuade
the Estates to act on, for example, the roads, waterways or provincial stud
the king had to cede authority and jurisdiction. Once this had been ac-
quired, much could be achieved because the élus controlled the fiscal system
and had a far more developed tradition of administrative independence
than their equivalents in either Artois or Brittany. Yet this very strength
meant that they cannot simply be classified as agents of monarchical
223 ADCO C 3306, fol. 144. 224 ADCO C 3688.
225 ADCO C 3354, fols. 119–21, Machault d’Arnouville to the élus, 24 August 1747.
226 ADCO C 3688, deliberation of 23 February 1771.
227 The arguments of Rebillon, États de Bretagne, and Legay, Les états provinciaux, discussed above.
centralisation. The Estates had their own interests and priorities and they
were never going to match those of the crown exactly.
Rebillon and Legay are, however, in agreement that during the eigh-
teenth century the administrative efforts of the provincial estates produced
only modest results. When examining the activities of the Burgundian ad-
ministration in the same period it is undeniable that the list of failures is
long. The refusal to act decisively on the issue of reforming the taille, to
tackle the problem of fiscal inequality or to abolish the corvée stands out.
It is also true that many of the projects sponsored by the Estates had only
been taken up after the intervention of the crown. Yet if the shortcomings
of the administration should not be overlooked, it would be misleading to
ignore the existence of a reforming movement after 1750. During the reign
of Louis XVI, fiscal reform moved to the top of the political agenda, and
there were practical improvements in the functioning of the tax system to
set against the obstinate defence of privileged interests that was also present.
Unlike their counterparts in Brittany, the élus also proved capable of over-
seeing the construction of an impressive road network and of launching a
programme of canal building that would probably have been brought to
fruition had not the revolution intervened.
Like the intendants in the pays d’élections, the élus were attracted to
the idea of promoting agricultural and even industrial development. After
a slow start, they became enthused with plans to develop the provincial
stud and to inspire the local peasantry with the example of the farm at
Diénay. Industrial ventures were less close to their hearts, but their efforts
to develop means of communication and to lobby for local commercial
interests, such as the wine trade, meant that the potential for economic
development was greater in 1789 than ever before. Moreover, the willingness
to support courses of public instruction in subjects as diverse as chemistry
and midwifery was a sign that they perceived their role in ways that were
comparable with the intendants and their projects of ‘bienfaisance’ which
opened this chapter. We should not, however, become too carried away
with the theme of an enlightened administration. Nearly all of the projects
discussed above were paid for by the taillables alone, either directly through
taxation or from the sweat of their brows. There is no doubt that the Estates
and ‘our lords the élus’ had a high opinion of their own achievements; it is
now time to consider the verdict of the Burgundian people themselves.
chapter 12
The coming of the French revolution in Burgundy,

1787–1789
Louis XVI’s decision to call an Assembly of Notables in February 1787

marked the beginning of a protracted political crisis that would lead to
the summoning of the Estates General in May 1789 and a few weeks
later to revolution.1 During the course of what has become known as the
‘pre-revolution’, government censorship collapsed and the kingdom was ex-
posed to an unprecedented degree of political debate. The most contentious
issue concerned the composition of the forthcoming Estates General, with
a ferocious quarrel about whether it should meet in the same form as at its
last assembly of 1614. On that occasion, voting had been by order, and it
was easy to imagine that, if repeated, the clergy and nobility would vote
together to protect their privileged interests, prevailing by a majority of
two to one. The fear of such an outcome led the third estate to embrace an
alternative formula, of doubled representation for themselves and voting
by head, devised in the autumn of 1788 during an assembly of deputies to
the revived provincial Estates of Dauphiné. For an increasingly assertive
third estate, the justice of its demands seemed incontrovertible, and it was
incensed by the opposition of the nobility. In Burgundy, the issue had an
additional resonance because of the obvious parallel with their provincial
Estates. The question of how to reform them became a matter of great
urgency, and for a few days in December 1788, it seemed possible that a
common programme would be adopted. These hopes were dashed by the
failure to resolve what one observer called ‘the unhappy question of whether
we should vote by order or by head’.2 It left the Estates of Burgundy bereft
of popular support in the hour of its greatest need.
If voting procedures in the Estates General were a matter of national con-
cern, there were other dimensions to the political debates surrounding the
1 The classic works are J. Egret, La pré-révolution française, 1787–1788 (Paris, 1962); W. Doyle, Origins
of the French revolution pp. 91–108; and B. Stone, The French parlements and the crisis of the old regime
(Chapel Hill, 1986).
2 E 642 bis, Lambert to Cortot, 30 January 1789.
365
provincial estates. Since at least 1750, there had been growing public interest
in reformed local government, with such luminaries as Montesquieu and
the marquis de Mirabeau calling for the re-establishment of the provincial
estates in the pays d’élections.3 Not everyone was convinced by the virtues
of the provincial estates, and the Physiocrats, in particular, proposed the
creation of provincial assemblies. Many different models were suggested,
but what they had in common was a desire to break away from the old
medieval formula of the three estates and to recognise wealth and property,
not simply social station.
During the reign of Louis XVI a number of attempts were made to put
these theories into practice. Necker established provincial administrations
in Berry and Haute-Guyenne that he hoped would serve as a prototype for
a broader programme of reform. Although the administrations survived
his fall, they failed to arouse great enthusiasm. They did, however, pro-
vide proof that innovation was possible. Necker’s initiative was followed in
1787–8 by a far more ambitious scheme sponsored first by Calonne and sub-
sequently Loménie de Brienne. Provincial assemblies were established in the
majority of the pays d’élections where they produced creditable if ultimately
disappointing results.4 Their failure was, in large measure, attributable to
the political crisis provoked by Lamoignon’s attempt to emasculate the
parlements in May 1788.5 The provincial assemblies were found guilty by
association with an increasingly discredited ministry, and there was a sud-
den resurgence of support for the re-establishment of provincial estates.
Part of their popularity stemmed from the belief that they constituted a
more effective barrier against the dreaded curse of ‘ministerial despotism’,
and in Dauphiné in particular their revival seemingly offered a new model
for representative government.6
As ministerial and public opinion became increasingly favourable
towards provincial self-government, the Estates of Burgundy had taken
advantage of the changing climate to reinforce their own authority and
administration. But how were the Estates and the chamber of élus viewed
by Burgundians? Having enjoyed the privileged status so coveted by their
3 For an introduction to the history of the provincial assemblies see: Egret, La pré-révolution française;
P. Renouvin, Les assemblées provinciales de 1787. Origines, développement, résultats (Paris, 1921); Jones,
Reform and revolution, pp. 12–49, 139–66; Kwass, Privilege and politics, pp. 255–310; and C. Soule,
‘Une tentative démocratique en France à la fin de l’ancien régime: les assemblées provinciales au
XVIIIe siècle; origines et création’, Parliaments, Estates and Representation 15 (1995), 97–119.
4 Jones, Reform and revolution, pp. 146–7, 155–6, and Renouvin, Les assemblées provinciales, pp. 214–32,
318–19, 385–99.
5 Egret, La pré-révolution française, and Doyle, Origins of the French revolution, pp. 91–108.
6 Jones, Reform and revolution, pp. 142–56, and Renouvin, Les assemblées provinciales, pp. 326–49.
The coming of the French revolution in Burgundy 367
compatriots throughout the eighteenth century, they were particularly well
placed to comment upon the strengths and weaknesses of the Estates.
Moreover, thanks to the excitement generated by the pre-revolutionary cri-
sis, there is a rich collection of source materials, varying from the official
deliberations of the Estates to the cahiers de doléances of the humble vil-
lagers of the province. Taken together they allow us to take a broad sample
of public opinion, and to assess both the verdict of Burgundians on the
Estates in 1789 and their hopes for the future.
t h e t h è s e pa r l e m e n ta i re
In the course of the bitter Varenne affair, which so divided the Parlement
of Dijon and the élus, the magistrates developed a powerful critique of
the Estates and their administration.7 In a series of pamphlets and re-
monstrances, the parlementaires argued that the vast expansion of the in-
stitutional remit of the chamber of élus had far surpassed the capacity of
its members.8 Well-intentioned clerics or nobles lacked the professional
knowledge to run a demanding administration, forcing them to depend
upon the advice of the permanent officers, headed by the treasurer general
and secrétaires des états. According to the influential Burgundian magistrate,
Févret de Fontette, it was these allegedly unaccountable subordinates who
alone controlled the provincial administration.9 As we have seen, the élus
were considerably more active than the parlementaires liked to pretend, and
the attempt to downplay their role was almost certainly part of a deliberate
strategy. Attacks directed at the permanent officials were far less likely to
antagonise the members of the Estates than those aimed at the élus, and
when they did come in for criticism it was generally on the basis that they
had exceeded the powers vested in them by the assembly.10
Had the opportunity arisen, the Parlement would have liked nothing
better than to scrutinise the conduct of the provincial administration, and
quarrels over their respective rights were a feature of the whole eighteenth
7 See chapter 9.
8 Classic examples of this critique include: Joly de Bévy’s, ‘Le Parlement outragé’ of January 1761, BMD
MS 778; Guenichot de Nogent, ‘Mémoire sur les démélés actuelles du Parlement de Dijon avec les
élus généraux de la province de Bourgogne’; ADCO C 3349; the remonstrances of the Parlement of
Dijon of 16 March and 7 July 1762; and, finally, the remonstrances written for the Cour des Aides of
Paris by Lamoignon de Malesherbes, dated July 1763.
9 ADCO C 3349, handwritten memoir entitled ‘Observations par m. de Fontette . . . réponse de m.
le chancelier au nom du roy aux remontrances du Parlement de Dijon’.
10 A good example is provided by the remonstrances of the Parlement of Dijon of 16 March 1762, ibid.
The issue is examined in chapter 9.
century. However, parlementaire attitudes to the Estates themselves were
more complex. The recurring theme in their analysis of the institution
was that it had lost its ancient powers and freedom, partly through the
effects of ‘ministerial despotism’, but also because of its own mistakes. In
his fiery pamphlet, Le Parlement Outragé, Joly de Bévy had declared that
‘the assembled Estates are no longer free in their suffrage, it seems that one
demands of them far more than one consults’.11 To reinforce his argument
he cited the case of a nobleman who had been expelled from a recent
assembly and forbidden to reappear for having ‘said frankly his opinion on
the abuses that he had observed in the administration’.
Fontette shared similar sentiments about the loss of liberty, arguing that
the Estates had once possessed the right to choose their élus freely: ‘today it
is the governor and the ministry who nominates them, and the choice that
the Estates appear to make is a pure formality’.12 He was, however, conscious
that the Estates had contributed to their own eclipse, in part because of the
infrequency of their meetings. In the course of his correspondence during
the Varenne affair, he wrote:
the Parlement has already said, and I repeat it. Why do the Estates only assemble
every three years? Why are they not assembled each time that a new tax is to be
levied? or rather why not wait until they are assembled before asking for their
consent to taxation? It is for the Estates to reclaim their privilege[s], but while they
do not, it will always be true to say that three people alone can not give a consent
that belongs to the assembled nation.13
It was a cogent critique and not one designed simply to reinforce the
authority of the Parlement because Fontette regularly repeated his wish
that the Estates reclaim their rights, arguing that:
the Parlement can only hope that the Estates of Burgundy will attempt in due
course to regain the exercise of a privilege that they have so long neglected to make
use of. The right of consent is one of the most important that this province has,
and it is not prejudicial to the right of registration.14
Fontette was clearly hoping that the Estates would become more politically
active, and by reasserting their rights curb the powers of the chamber
of élus. The model of the Estates of Brittany, which was very much in
vogue in the early 1760s, may have inspired his thinking, and there was
11 BMD MS 778, ‘Le parlement outragé’, fol. 11.

12 ADCO C 3349, ‘Observations par m. de Fontette’.
13 Ibid., and BMD MS 912, fols. 180–1, Fontette to Clément de Feillet, 4 February 1763. The ‘nation’
he had in mind was the Burgundian one.
14 ADCO C 3349, ‘Observations par m. de Fontette’.
an abortive attempt to press for change at the Estates of 1763.15 Although
interest in reform waned during the final years of Louis XV’s reign, the
arguments advanced by the parlementaires were not forgotten and they
would be revived with ever-greater insistence after 1774.
internal critics
It was the stormy triennalité of the abbé de La Goutte that set the tone
for the first decade of Louis XVI’s reign,16 with a series of controversial
reforms dividing the chamber of élus. Although defeated, La Goutte’s ideas
were a reflection of a wider current of opinion, and in 1781 the alcades
produced a series of highly critical remarques that were in turn suppressed
by the government. The central themes of the reforming campaign were the
alleged shortcomings of the fiscal system. Inspired by La Goutte, the alcades
produced a detailed plan for the reorganisation of tax collection based upon
the principles of equality and uniformity. Predictably, they also directed
their fire at the province’s fiscal officers, repeating the arguments that they
were overpaid and were constantly in arrears. Nor did the Chambre des
Comptes emerge unscathed. The épices charged by the court were denounced
as excessive, and the old allegation that they were effectively paid twice for
the same task when examining the accounts of the treasurer general and the
receivers was repeated.17 These familiar gripes were accompanied by others,
notably accusations of corruption in the administration of public works.
Alongside these traditional complaints were others that reflected the
political mood of the period. Perhaps inspired by the example of Necker,
the alcades demanded the immediate publication of:
exact and detailed accounts of the ordinary expenses of the province, and every year
[the Estates] should put before the eyes of the province the picture of its expenses
and its resources, its debts, its borrowing, its reimbursements, its receipts, and its
expenditure, in this table the citizen will study his duties and obligations. He will
see what the administration has done for him, [and] what he must do for it, the
sacrifices imposed upon him will be accepted without demur.18
The alcades did not stop there because they were simultaneously pursuing an
even more radical agenda. In their censored remarques, they drew attention
to the large amount of expenditure of benefit to all that was paid for by
15 See chapter 9. 16 See chapter 8.

17 ADCO C 3302, ‘Copie de la minute des remarques des commissaires alcades . . . pour l’assemblée
des états ouvert le 6 mai 1781’, and 1 F 460, fol. 254.
18 ADCO C 3302, ‘Copie de la minute des remarques’.
the third estate alone. Amongst the items cited were the provincial stud,
the abonnement contracted with the directeurs des postes and the costs of a
variety of ‘buy outs’ negotiated with the crown.19 They added that ‘it is
no less astonishing that the nobility and clergy grant alms and the third
estate pays for them, it is a don gratuit to which all three orders must
contribute’. Silenced in 1781, the campaign for fiscal equality would return
with a vengeance after 1787.
If issues of fiscal equality and control of the tax system tended to
preoccupy the minds of would-be reformers, there were still echoes of
the parlementaire critique of the Estates. In their remarques of 1781, the
alcades admitted that there were limits to what the élus could achieve given
the complexity of the tasks they faced and the limited amount of time at
their disposal.20 Like the Parlement, they believed that the solution was to
strengthen the power of the assembly, declaring that:
the assembled Estates and not the administration must decide everything. It belongs
to the Estates alone to increase expenditure which burdens the taxpayers whose
interests are too often neglected, above all [those of ] the taillables, by working thus
for the good of each class of citizens they will procure that of the province.
The author of an important unpublished memoir, the Administration de
la province de Bourgogne considerée comme pays d’états, written just prior to
the Estates of 1781, identified the alcades themselves as the key to reform.
He cited the royal règlement of 1742 that had obliged them to secure the
permission of the secretary of state before presenting their remarques to the
assembly, and described it as ‘destructive of the province’s privileges and
contrary to the natural liberty that censors must possess’.21 He believed that
the alcades should be allowed to denounce malpractice without restriction,
but the assembly of 1781 would reveal just how reluctant the crown was to
hear their criticisms.
Given the degree of interest in the reform of provincial government after
1774, it is surprising that the Estates were not given more scope to experi-
ment with internal reforms. The explanation for that inertia undoubtedly
resides in a combination of factors, including a certain institutional con-
servatism, the power of vested interests and the attitude of the governor.
It is also possible that the prevailing intellectual climate, which tended to
favour projects for provincial assemblies over those of estates, prevented
ministers from seeing the potential for reform that undoubtedly existed.
19 Ibid., and ADCO 1 F 460, fols., 70–1, 127, 155–6. The author was insistent that all of the province’s
taxpayers should benefit from the advantages of abonnements.
20 ADCO C 3302, ‘Copie de la minute des remarques’. 21 ADCO 1 F 460, fol. 205.
t h e e s tat e s o f 1 78 7
The presence of the élus and the governor at the Assembly of Notables of
1787 meant that the Estates of Burgundy did not meet until November
of that year. Subsequent events would reveal that the public debate about
reform and the establishment of provincial assemblies in the pays d’élections
had acted as a catalyst upon the thinking of the deputies who gathered in
Dijon. In what would prove to be one of the most eventful assemblies for
more than a century, the chambers engaged in a lively debate about the
constitution of the Estates and the administration of the province.
The chamber of nobility was determined to reassert its right to choose
its élu in a free election,22 arguing that this prerogative had passed to the
governor on a distant occasion when a split vote had required his inter-
vention. The most serious obstacle to its ambitions was posed by the royal
règlement of 1742, which reserved the appointment of the élus to the crown.
To justify a rather belated attack on its contents, the nobles declared that it
had never received the formal sanction of a deliberation in their chamber,
adding that it would be impossible for them to alienate powers granted by
the Burgundian dukes. The reaction of the other chambers was lukewarm
to say the least. With a command of casuistry worthy of their calling, the
clergy announced ‘that there was no reason at present to deliberate on this
subject’, and then added a clause stating that by this they did not mean to
prejudice their ‘own rights and privileges, nor those that are common to the
other orders of the province’.23 More bluntly, the third estate replied that
‘its constitution and its particular regime did not permit it to participate
in the petition of the chamber of nobility’.
Such a disappointing response did not come as a complete shock to the
nobility.24 The workings of the grande roue in the chamber of the third
estate and the rotation amongst bishops, abbés and doyens when choosing
a clerical élu meant that the issue was less pressing for the other orders.
Yet without their backing the chances of the nobles succeeding in their
campaign were slight. Rather than abandon its campaign, the second order
approached the governor directly, informing him that the offending article
of the règlement of 1742 undermined the ‘basic rights of the provincial
constitution’.25 Displaying his customary tact, Condé replied that he could
not receive their deputation in his capacity as the king’s commissioner,
but ‘as a prince of the blood, he was always disposed to converse with the
24 They had anticipated difficulties in persuading the other chambers, ibid., fol. 31.
25 Ibid., fols. 37–40.
gentlemen of the province about the affairs and interests of Burgundy’. He
also had the good sense to warn the deputation that an appeal from their
chamber alone stood little chance of succeeding, but the nobles insisted on
petitioning the king. Louis XVI replied sternly, declaring that without the
backing of the other orders such a request was ‘completely irregular and the
nobility should not accustom itself to think that a deliberation of its own
could carry weight in an affair affecting the entire body of the Estates’.26
Thrown back on to the mercy of the other chambers, the nobles sent them
a copy of the king’s letter for consideration and a request that their demand
be added to the cahier des remonstrances.27 This time the suggestion was
approved, but any celebrations were likely to be premature – the Breton
nobility had been petitioning the king unsuccessfully for the same privilege
since 1772.28
Undaunted by the cool reception they had received over the issue of
the élus, the nobility pressed forward on another front. Having noted that
proposed reforms of the corvée and the vingtième were of a technical na-
ture, ill-suited for discussion within the three chambers, they called for the
establishment of:
bureaux, composed of several members of each order, to discuss the different
points [at issue], to summarise them, offer an opinion on the most effective means
of attaining the object of the Estates and then to present it to the chambers.29
A seemingly laudable measure was rejected by the clergy and third estate
on the basis that it was contrary to the ‘ancient constitution’. The nobles
had made the mistake of presenting their reform as an innovation; had
they searched in the registers of the Estates they would almost certainly
have discovered the precedents needed to win their case.30 Suspicion of
the motives behind the call for these bureaux perhaps accounted for the
reticence of the clergy and third estate, and the nobles had made something
of a faux pas by implying that they might examine the work of the alcades
before it was presented to the chambers.31 Even so, the episode revealed
how hard it was to persuade the members of the Estates to revise their
traditional practices.
Those changes that were implemented were on a comparatively modest
scale. A call to double the time available to the alcades when preparing their
remarques received unanimous approval.32 Support was also forthcoming
26 Ibid., fol. 55. 27 ADCO C 3014, fol. 15. 28 Rebillon, États de Bretagne, p. 75.
29 For details see: ADCO C 3048, fols. 50–1; C 3014, fols. 9, 14; and C 3054, fols. 23, 36.
30 There is no doubt that precedents did exist, ADCO C 3031, fol. 11–14, and chapter 3.
31 ADCO C 3054, fol. 23. 32 ADCO C 3014, fol. 37, and C 3048, fol. 99.
for a proposal to make details of the financial administration available
for consultation before any deliberations on fiscal matters.33 Other décrets
revealed a strong element of continuity with previous assemblies. Calls for
the Estates to be given complete authority over the appointment of their
officers were repeated, and the receivers and other financial officials came
in for predictable criticism.34 The nobility was again to the fore, presenting
a series of proposed reforms, including the standardisation of the fees paid
to their fiscal officers and the suppression of the receivers of Dijon and
of the crues, whose duties were to be transferred to the treasurer general.
Both the third estate and the clergy gave their cautious consent, urging
the élus to act prudently and in such a way as to protect the interests of
taxpayers and the honour of the province.
If the nobility was particularly active in pressing for change, the deputies
of the third estate were not far behind, and they had a very different agenda.
Reviving the arguments of La Goutte and the alcades of 1781 they fought for
fiscal equality not only relative to the administration of the capitation and
vingtièmes, but also when it came to expenditure on items of general public
utility.35 The deputies identified eighteen separate examples of charges paid
solely by the third estate, including the costs of the voyage of honour, the
upkeep of the provincial stud, provision for the poor, the gages of the staff
of the Palais des États and even the ‘fees’ of the captain of the porte de
la noblesse’ . Having listed their grievances, they demanded that they be
supported by the three orders and not the third estate alone.36 Christian
charity proved no match for the charms of fiscal privilege, and the clergy
voted against change. As for the nobles, they had the good grace to ac-
cept liability for paying their captain and the commissioners charged with
verifying the proofs needed for entrance to their chamber, who were also
funded by the third estate. However, they remained steadfast in their refusal
to contribute towards the other items. Such stubborn defence of privileged
interests would soon be seized upon by the new spokesmen of the third
estate as evidence of the abusive nature of the provincial constitution and
the unpatriotic sentiments of the nobility and clergy.
Disagreement over the issue of fiscal equality offered an early indication
of the nature of future conflict, but the efforts of the third estate were not
in vain. There was unanimous support for further reform of the taille and
the nobility was forced to agree to a verification of the vingtième rolls, the
essential precondition of a more equitable distribution of the tax burden.37
33 ADCO C 3014, fol. 92, and C 3048, fol. 33. 34 ADCO C 3048, fols. 91, 109–10.
35 Ibid., fols. 26–9, 105–6, 110. 36 Ibid., fol. 105. 37 See chapter 10.
The third estate also persuaded the nobility to back reform of the system
of pensions paid by the Estates, the crucial article of which stated that ‘in
future the unanimous consent of the three chambers would be required’.38
In keeping with the general clamour for more information, it was further
stipulated that the three chambers would henceforth be provided with a
complete list of the pensions paid in their name at the beginning of every
assembly.
As the prince de Condé presided over the closing ceremonies on
1 December 1787, he had good reason to be pleased with the outcome.
The principal royal demands contained in his instructions had been met,
and the potentially disruptive issues raised during the assembly handled
without causing serious conflict or resentment. Viewed with the benefit of
hindsight, the last meeting of the Estates General of Burgundy had revealed
signs of the crisis to come, with the nobility anxious to revive the exist-
ing provincial constitution and the third estate far more preoccupied with
the campaign for fiscal equality. In November 1787, these questions had
been debated within the traditional confines of the Estates, and without
a great sense of urgency. The nobility dutifully added the demand for the
free election of its élu to the cahier des remontrances, and the third estate
had been happy to refer many of its recommendations on fiscal reform to
the élus. The radical young avocat, Braine, writing from Semur-en-Auxois,
was surely not alone in his opinion that the ‘Estates are therefore finished,
without, it seems to me, having come close to fulfilling the hopes that
their opening had raised’.39 Yet as the deputies dispersed, the monarchy
was lurching into a crisis that would culminate, in May 1788, in another
ill-fated attempt to break the power of the parlements.40 By August, the
opposition to that policy had forced an increasingly discredited govern-
ment to order the convocation of the Estates General of France. In doing
so, Louis XVI permitted a public debate on the composition of the forth-
coming national assembly, and created an opportunity for the critics of the
provincial estates to come out into the open.
l a p r é r é vo lu t i o n b o u rgu i g n o nn e
During September 1788 Lamoignon’s judicial reforms were abandoned and
their author disgraced, permitting the triumphant return of the parlements.
The provinces of Dauphiné and Brittany had been to the fore in thwarting
38 ADCO C 3048, fol. 69–71. 39 ADCO E 642, bis, Braine, fils, to Cortot, 6 December 1787.
40 Egret, Pré-révolution française, pp. 103–314.
the government, with the citizens of Grenoble and Rennes taking violent
action against the troops charged with upholding royal policy. Yet the
resemblance between the political situation in the two provinces was only
skin deep. In Dauphiné, the campaign to re-establish the provincial Estates
produced a powerful alliance of nobles and leading members of the third
estate, with a programme based upon free elections, consent to taxation
and, crucially, double representation for the third estate and voting by
head.41 For the Bretons, a comparable expression of provincial solidarity
proved impossible. By the end of the year the nobility was at war with
the bourgeoisie about the composition of the Estates, and all attempts at
reconciliation failed. In May and June of 1789, the deputies of the third
estate of Brittany were in the vanguard of revolution, forming the kernel of
the legendary Jacobin club. Their noble compatriots, on the other hand,
were so infuriated by the failure to elect the provincial deputies from within
the local Estates that they refused to attend the Estates General altogether.
Similar divisions surfaced in the Franche-Comté and the princes of the
blood, who only a few months previously had been leading the chorus
of opposition to Lamoignon’s reforms, issued a manifesto, in December
1788, denouncing the pretensions of the third estate. Their fears were well
founded. News of the programme adopted in Dauphiné had spread like a
brushfire amongst the members of the third estate of the kingdom, provid-
ing an inspiration and a unifying ideology that cut across the traditionally
parochial and corporatist lines of ancien régime France. When the Parlement
of Paris issued its famous arrêt in September 1788, insisting that the Estates
General assemble in accordance with the most recent precedent of 1614, it
lost much of its public credit almost overnight.
Burgundy was not immune from the increasingly feverish political
atmosphere. On 11 December 1788, Trullard, the procureur syndic of Dijon,
addressed the town council on the virtues of the third estate:
it is the third estate that supplies the soldiers and their pay; it is the [third estate] that
makes the fields bring forth their harvest, commerce, the arts and manufactures
flower, it adds value to property, even to that of the two other orders; in a word, it
invigorates everything.42
He concluded with a resounding endorsement of events in Dauphiné that
was seconded by those present and by a stream of deputations representing
41 See: Doyle, Origins of the revolution, pp. 131–47, esp. 134–5; Egret, Pré-révolution française, pp. 315–66;
and Jones, Reform and revolution, pp. 152–6.
42 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait des registres des délibérations de la chambre du conseil de la ville et
commune de Dijon, Jeudi 11 Décembre 1788’.
the different corps in the city, who unanimously pledged their allegiance
to the programme of doubled representation and voting by head.43 It was
further agreed to address a ‘Lettre au roi’, arguing that ‘if we consult the
essential law of men, reason, what would be the point of subjecting the
representatives of twenty-two million souls to the representatives of three or
four hundred thousand privileged ?’. While professing their admiration for
the ancient nobility, the corps of Dijon asked rhetorically ‘but if the nobility
no longer existed, would the state perish with it ? Would it lack defenders,
would its power be extinguished?’.44 The response was clear, if unspoken,
and even if the city’s third estate did not anticipate the abbé Sièyes by
threatening to send the nobility back to their fabled Franconian forests,
their growing self-confidence was unmistakable. A glowing reference to
events in the United States was enough to complete the picture of a third
estate no longer prepared to ‘count for nothing in public affairs’.
As the first signs of an emerging political consciousness amongst the third
estate of Dijon became public, a section of the local nobility intervened
with the aim of leading reform of the provincial Estates prior to the election
of deputies for the Estates General.45 The nobles formally assembled on
20 December, and subsequently claimed that their intention was to extend
that invitation to all gentlemen and to representatives of the clergy and
third estate.46 The comte de Vienne, the last representative of one of the
most prestigious families in the province and a former élu, was elected
president. That evening, Vienne proposed summoning the other orders,
and, rather than twiddle their thumbs while they waited, the assembled
gentlemen began to examine a memoir, drafted by the mayor of Flavigny,
Gautherin, on behalf of the third estate, containing a list of their grievances
on matters of taxation.47
Gautherin had identified no less than twenty-three charges that, while
of benefit to all, were borne by the third estate alone. Most of these items
had been identified by the third estate at the assembly of the Estates in
November 1787, or had been present in the suppressed remarques of the
alcades in 1781. Only a year earlier the nobility had treated these demands
43 A. Cochin, ‘La campagne électorale de 1789 en Bourgogne’, in his Les sociétés de pensée et la démocratie.
Études d’histoire révolutionnaire (Paris, 1921), pp. 235–82. Cochin presents these events in terms of a
preconceived plan by a small group of avocats, who effectively seized control of the third estate.
44 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait des registres’.
45 The nobles published their version of events in the ‘Extrait du procès-verbal de la noblesse de
Bourgogne assemblée à Dijon du 20 Décembre au 7 Janvier 1789’, in BMD MS 21537 (1). Cochin,
‘La campagne électorale’, pp. 252–3, 274–6, interprets these events as part of a failed counter coup
against the avocats by a relatively small section of the noblesse.
46 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait du procès-verbal de la noblesse’, fols. 6–11.
47 Gautherin had been appointed to compile this memoir after the Estates of 1787.
with disdain, but in the new political climate of December 1788 it made
a determined effort to win the support of the third estate. Embracing the
principle of fiscal equality, the nobles agreed to all bar one of Gautherin’s
twenty-three points, including a promise to pay an equitable share of the
interest charges on the provincial debt, only refusing to pay for the gifts of
wine traditionally dispensed to ministers and other powerful figures which
they described as ‘an incredible abuse’ requiring suppression.48
Having renounced fiscal privilege, the nobles clearly expected to be wel-
comed as the natural champions of a movement of provincial regeneration,
and over the next few days they set about compiling a more general pro-
gramme. Moderate reform of the Estates was central to their strategy and
it was quickly agreed that the intendant was superfluous to requirements,
his commission was to be revoked and his remaining powers transferred to
the élus. Predictably enough, demands for the right to elect their élu, which
had dominated the debates of the chamber in 1787, were repeated.49 More
controversially, the nobility called for the deputies of the third estate to be
freely elected and not restricted to the venal office of mayor, as had been
the case since the late seventeenth century. Finally, the independence of
the Estates themselves was to be strengthened. Future meetings were to be
of indeterminate length, depending upon the amount of business and its
importance, and provincial matters would be dealt with first before con-
sideration of taxes or dons gratuits. Costs were to be cut by suppressing the
additional ‘gratifications’ paid to the élus, and by abolishing the sumptuous
banquets that they were in the habit of providing. Once these reforms had
been adopted, the Estates were to be convoked and deputies for the Estates
General of the kingdom elected.
This programme won the overwhelming support of those present and
fifty-eight gentlemen signed their names alongside that of their president.50
Had the chamber presented these proposals to the Estates of November 1787
they would have appeared both bold and generous, but by December 1788
the third estate’s reserves of deference were rapidly running out. Enthused
with the mantra of doubled representation and voting by head, the bour-
geois elites of Dijon, headed by an influential group of avocats,51 were aiming
for a much more radical transformation of the Estates. Conflict became fo-
cused around the issue of the provincial constitution. When presenting the
48 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait du procès-verbal de la noblesse’, fols. 11–17, 26.
49 Ibid., fols. 28–41.
50 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Discours prononcé par l’un de mm. Les secrétaires de la noblesse, au nom de
son ordre, à l’assemblée des députés du clergé de la Sainte-Chapelle de Dijon, et de ceux des corps
et communautés du tiers état de cette ville, qu’elle y avoit invités, le 27 Décembre 1788’. fol. 8.
51 Cochin, ‘La campagne électorale’.
noble programme to the representatives of the clergy and the third estate of
Dijon on 27 December, Vienne declared that the nobility had assembled to
preserve Burgundy from the ‘misfortunes threatening France’.52 Referring
to the ancient constitution of the province, he added that ‘these ancient
forms, consecrated by time, must remain as our forefathers have transmit-
ted them, it is only necessary to reform the abuses that have crept in’. As
the members of the third estate presumably felt their hearts sink at the
prospect of Breton style rejection of voting by head, Vienne unveiled the
Burgundian nobility’s solution to the problem.
since time immemorial it has been customary in Burgundy to count votes by order
and that two form a décret and bind the third: the first part of this law is sound and
is all the more so because taxes being distributed equally upon all the orders the
interest becomes common: the second part appears to the assembled gentlemen to
merit change.53
Their solution was to grant each of the chambers the right of veto, on the
basis that a law that was bad for one order was bad for them all. On matters
of great import they suggested appointing commissioners to work out a
compromise that could be resubmitted to the chambers. Having unveiled
the programme of the noblesse, Vienne concluded with an appeal for unity.
While open to ideas of reform, the assembled nobles had stopped short
of seeking to apply the Dauphiné model in Burgundy. They nevertheless
succeeded in rallying a section of the third estate to their side, splitting
the corps of avocats in the process,54 and before finalising their position
the deputies of the third estate requested further clarifications from the
nobility on 28 December.55 As they deliberated, news of an inflammatory
speech by the abbé Dillon, doyen of the Sainte Chapelle, was spreading
through the city. Dillon had warned the third estate not to overestimate the
consequences of a renunciation of fiscal privilege by the clergy and nobility.
He argued instead that ‘the members of the third estate are individually
worth as much as them; united they are stronger; they are only obliged to
join with the privileged orders [if ] their prerogatives founded upon natural
law are restored to them; otherwise, not’.56 Printed versions of the text
were accompanied by praise for a cleric who alone had dared to plead the
52 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Discours prononcé par l’un de mm. Les secrétaires de la noblesse’, fols. 1–2.
53 Ibid., fols. 6–7.
54 Several pamphlets, written by local avocats, were published supporting their position, and are ex-
amined in greater detail below.
55 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait du procès-verbal de la noblesse’, fols. 41–2.
56 The noblesse was sufficiently disturbed by his discourse to include it in its self-justificatory procès-
verbal, ibid., fols. 74–81.
cause of the third estate. However, in a dramatic twist entirely redolent of
ancien régime politics, the abbé subsequently informed the nobility that if
his confrères displayed ‘a way of thinking diametrically opposed to mine,
I would defend it with as much zeal as I would my own’.57
The age of revolutionary ideology would soon sweep the corporate men-
tality away, and despite his own magnanimity Dillon had given expression
to the fears of many within the third estate. The issue of the veto be-
came the principal obstacle to agreement, but there was no real enthusiasm
for the idea, or for that of a commission to resolve future deadlock. Several
corps expressed doubts about the planned reforms, and the avocats soon
emerged as the chief tormentors of the nobility.58 They demanded doubled
representation for the third estate, and, if the veto was exercised, a general
assembly to vote by head with a two-thirds majority required to pass a
disputed décret. For the nobility of Burgundy it was a Rubicon, and one
that it was ultimately not prepared to cross. Instead, it fell back on the
argument that such a change would destroy ‘the ancient constitution of the
province . . . since this modification renders illusory the vote by order and
would limit the chamber of nobility to a fixed number of representatives;
something that is contrary to the institution of the Estates that the nobility
is determined to uphold’. A further row over terminology provided confir-
mation of the breakdown in relations between the nobility and the avocats.
The lawyers had called for a plan to ‘reform the abuses of the constitution’,
something that the nobles indignantly protested did not exist.
Imperceptibly battle lines were being drawn, with the avocats winning at
least the tacit support of the other bourgeois corps of Dijon, while the no-
bility’s stance was endorsed by the Parlement and Chambre des Comptes.59
Reconciliation proved impossible, and, on 6 January, the nobility published
a strongly worded Protestation, blaming the pretensions of the avocats, a self-
styled ‘fourth order’, for the failure to achieve a united provincial front.60
According to the sixty-one nobles who signed the document, if they had ac-
cepted voting by head ‘there would only really be a single order in the state’.
All they would have achieved through such a spurious unity would have
been to ‘plunge their patrie into the chaos of the most dreadful democracy’.
The nobility dispersed the next day with its dreams of leading a
Burgundian political renaissance in tatters. Unlike its counterpart in
57 Ibid., fols. 79–81, abbé Dillon to the nobility of Burgundy, 29/30 December 1788.
58 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait du procès-verbal de la noblesse’, fols. 48–74, 101–4.
59 Ibid., fols. 66–71, 85, and BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Extrait des registres du Parlement de Dijon
(30 Décembre 1788)’.
60 BMD MS 21537 (1), ‘Protestation de la noblesse de Bourgogne (6 Janvier 1789)’, fol. 3.
Brittany, the Burgundian noblesse had proved willing to engage in a con-
structive debate with the third estate about reform of the Estates. Fiscal priv-
ilege had been renounced in unequivocal terms, and some progress had been
made towards defining the composition of a more representative Estates.
More importantly, the plan to keep voting by order, tempered by the use of
a veto, offered a potential solution to the divisive conflict that so poisoned
the political atmosphere in the spring of 1789. Despite the popularity of the
Dauphiné model, the third estate did not reject the proposal out of hand,
and it was only on the issue of how to break the deadlock of a veto that an
impasse had been reached. The noblesse refused to countenance the idea of
voting by head, even in these more restricted circumstances and with the
extra safeguard of requiring a two-thirds majority to pass a décret. Mutual
suspicion had played a significant part in the breakdown of negotiations.
The nobles castigated the avocats for wishing to become a fourth estate
of the realm, while many within the third estate shared the abbé Dillon’s
doubts about the practical effects of the renunciation of privilege. These
obstacles were not necessarily insurmountable, but with the Estates General
due to meet in May hopes of reaching a compromise were fading fast.
t h e pa m ph l e t c a m pai g n
After the effective collapse of government censorship in the autumn of 1788,
Burgundian authors were quick to reach for their quills, and the resulting
pamphlets added another dimension to the political discussions in Dijon
at the end of December 1788. Many of these publications were inspired by
those events and by the vexed question of voting procedure, but they also
contained a wider critique of the Estates and their administration. Foremost
amongst the early censors of the administration were the marquis de Créqui,
a member of the Estates of Artois and a descendant of an ancient aristocratic
family that had once served the Valois dukes, and the local nobleman, the
vicomte de Chastenay.
Créqui was an impassioned crusader on behalf of the provincial estates.61
He published a variety of tracts in the months preceding the revolution,
including a pamphlet entitled De la Bourgogne. De ce qu’elle a été, de ce
qu’elle est et de ce qu’elle sera. The pamphlet began with a classic exposi-
tion of the thèse parlementaire, and came complete with suitably deferential
references to Malesherbes’ remonstrances of July 1763 and the traditional
characterisation of the élus as inexperienced and dependent upon their
61 Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 273–4, 379.

permanent officials.62 Somewhat contradictorily, the pamphlet also con-
tained allegations of abuse of power by these same élus, which suggests
that it was composed with local assistance. Créqui claimed that the élus
had offered ‘the king a warship of the first class, without being in any
way authorised by the Estates, probably with the unique aim of making
themselves pleasing to the government’.63 He was referring to the warship
offered to the king in 1782,64 and it allowed him to argue that the élus had
taken advantage of the infrequency of assemblies of the Estates. In theory,
everything in the chamber of élus was decided provisionally, but:
there is never an appeal, either because it is useless to protest against a tax that is
already raised, or the form and short duration of assemblies of the Estates means
that there is no time to investigate the administration of the élus.
For Créqui the summoning of the Estates General promised a bright new
future for the provinces, ‘yes, their constitutions are going to be restored,
that of Burgundy in particular will breathe new life; its Estates will be freed
from the chains that the despotism of the ministers and their commis have
imposed’.65
The main target of his ire was the règlement of 1742, which, he believed,
had extinguished Burgundian liberty by removing the right of the nobility
to elect its élu. Free elections were a key theme in his argument, and like
other would-be reformers Créqui was anxious to extend that principle to the
third estate. With what sounds like physiocratic zeal, he warmly welcomed
the suggestion that merchants, farmers and other property holders should
be enfranchised, declaring that ‘the whole body politic rests on this sacred
title of property holder’.66 Finally, one of the more original suggestions of
Créqui concerned the functions of the alcades. They too were characterised
as the victims of ministerial despotism having been forced, since 1742, to
present their remarques for official approval before their presentation to
the Estates. Once the liberty to speak freely had been recovered the alcades
would become:
the rampart . . . of our constitution. One cannot help but admire an institution
which brings us close to the great days of the Roman republic, where an esteemed
citizen was freely chosen by the people to watch over the senators, contain the
nobles, protect the plebeians . . . to form, if it is possible to express it thus, a living
barrier against corruption and vice.
62 References are from a manuscript copy, BMD MS 2073, fols. 17–29. The authorship was attributed
to Créqui by the lawyer Lambert, ADCO E 642 bis, Lambert to Cortot, January 1789. If this was
the case, he had almost certainly been given assistance by some well informed Burgundians.
63 Ibid., fol. 25. 64 See chapter 10. 65 BMD MS 2073, fol. 27. 66 Ibid., fol. 29.
The optimistic tone of Crequi’s pamphlet was in many ways typical of
a broad strand of opinion that was not just confined to the ranks of the
nobility. For many reformers the key issue in 1788–9 was to re-establish
the Estates in their ancient glory, free of ministerial interference, within
the old framework of orders, élus and alcades. The success of the pamphlet
can be gauged by the fact that a colleague of the influential Burgundian
avocat, Cortot, seriously considered the possibility that a shortage of copies
was caused by the direct intervention of the prince de Condé. He informed
Cortot that it was astounding that in Dijon they were ignorant of such
an important work, claiming that ‘it is an exact revelation of the dis-
graceful abuses and odious acts which reign in the administration of our
province’.67
A desire to expose the alleged corruption of the provincial administration
also inspired the vicomte de Chastenay. He was a former soldier, who had
spent his retirement knocking the dust off ancient parchments as part of
his self-appointed role as the ‘intrepid defender of the privileges of the
province’, and ‘the scourge of the Condé’.68 In September 1788, Chastenay
published a substantial pamphlet, the Manuel du Bourguignon, attacking
the familiar targets of the règlement of 1742, the censoring of the alcades
and the épices charged by the Chambre des Comptes. He also accused the
élus of abusing their position to build roads for their own convenience and
of presiding over an administration that spent eight times more on their
construction than the provincial administration of Berry.69
Between them, Créqui and Chastenay had impugned the honour of the
élus, provoking at least two former members of the administration into
publishing detailed replies. In the anonymous, Emploi des impôts perçus par
la province de Bourgogne, the author declared his intention to correct the
errors he had found in Créqui’s pamphlet. He then proceeded to provide
exhaustive details of the expenditure of the Estates in 1782, the year in which
the élus had presented the king with the warship that had so annoyed the
marquis.70 It would be difficult to exaggerate the degree of precision in
the Emploi des impôts, and spending was itemised down to the last denier,
from the 33,846 livres 3 sols 4 deniers received by the prince de Condé to the
67 ADCO E 642, bis, Lambert to Cortot, 30 January 1789.
68 The work of H. Richard, ‘Le vicomte François de Chastenay, défenseur de la noblesse, 1788–1789’,
Mémoires de l’Académie des Sciences, Arts et Belles-Lettres de Dijon 130 (1989–90), 321–41, is an essential
introduction to the vicomte and his ideas in the period.
69 The full title was Manuel du Bourguignon ou Recueil abrégé des titres qui servent à prouver les privileges
de la province, BMD I–6145, and Richard, ‘Chastenay’, 328.
70 BMD 21537 (1), Emploi des impôts perçus par la province de Bourgogne. The author referred to ‘la
place que j’occupois encore en 1783 dans l’administration de la province’.
16 livres paid to the gondoliers in the park at Versailles!71 After presenting
his accounts, the author concluded: ‘you can . . . make what use you wish
of my manuscript, of which I attest the exactitude. If changes have been
made in the administration of Burgundy since I left it, I know not; I only
state what I know well, very well’.
The same tone of measured rebuttal of the accusations against the ad-
ministration was present in the second pamphlet, entitled Observations sur
une brochure intitulée: le Manuel du bourguignon, written by the marquis
d’Argenteuil, élu of the nobility between 1778 and 1781.72 While sympa-
thetic to calls for the strengthening of the powers of the Estates, he refused
to believe that the administration was riddled with abuse. To prove his
point, he devoted several pages to correcting what he maintained were er-
rors or ambiguities in the work of Chastenay, particularly relative to the
cost of pensions and other financial gifts paid by the Estates. D’Argenteuil
also made a spirited defence of fiscal policy more generally, especially the
‘buy-out’ of the four sols per livre of the capitation in 1779 which Chastenay
had attacked.73 As the 1.2 million livres paid to the crown was to be repaid
using the proceeds of the octrois and the crue of twenty sols per minot,
d’Argenteuil was able to prove that the interests of province had been well
served. He also defended the élus for offering the warship in 1782, again
making it clear that the king’s willingness to grant the octrois to cover the
necessary borrowing had rendered the gesture comparatively painless. As
we have seen, the Estates had been bound up in a complicated and ulti-
mately far from disadvantageous financial relationship with the crown,
and the defence mounted by d’Argenteuil had the ring of truth. The
real scandal in the fiscal system of the Estates lay in its inequality, but
neither Chastenay nor Créqui spilt much ink denouncing that particular
abuse.
Events in Dijon during late December 1788 came as a rude shock to the
noble advocates of the revitalised Estates and to some traditionally minded
members of the third estate. A small group of avocats, who had distinguished
themselves in the battles against the judicial reforms of Maupeou and
Lamoignon, shied away from the prospect of breaking their alliance with
71 One of the privileges of the élus when at court was to have the fountains of Versailles played in their
honour, the fontainiers received 24 livres.
72 Its full title was Observations sur une brochure intitulée: le Manuel du bourguignon, ou recueil abrégé
des titres qui servent à prouver les privilèges de la province, BMD 21537 (1). Richard, ‘Chastenay’, 325,
n. 29, has established that d’Argenteuil was the author.
73 BMD 21537 (1), Observations sur une brochure intitulée: le Manuel du bourguignon, fols. 18–23. Both
authors refer to it as a ‘rachat’, although it more closely resembles an abonnement as it was repeated
every ten years.
the parlementaires and remained convinced of the virtues of the Burgundian
constitution.74 Dijon was thus treated to a series of pamphlets designed to
rally support for a revised form of voting by order. In a work entitled Une
membre du tiers état à ses pairs, dated 26 December 1788, possibly written
by the avocat, Xavier, it was argued that voting by head would be detri-
mental to the third estate.75 He justified this argument on the basis that,
if the two privileged orders were united in their determination to pass a
décret contrary to the interests of the third estate, they would only need to
‘corrupt’ one member of that order to prevail. If, on the other hand, voting
was by order, with unanimity required to pass that décret, it would need
more than half of the third estate to side with the privileged.
Another to intervene in the debate was the vicomte de Chastenay who
penned the Réflexions d’un Franc-bourguignon du tiers état in which he
adopted the guise of a commoner alarmed by the political discord in
Dijon.76 While prepared to admit that all were ‘citizens and French’, he
nevertheless launched an impassioned defence of social inequality using
arguments drawn overwhelmingly from the works of Montesquieu.77 For
Chastenay, voting by head threatened the very existence of the nobility, and
without the bulwark provided by the second order the monarchy would
quickly degenerate into despotism. The same argument punctuated his
later pamphlets,78 and, like many of his peers, a willingness to contemplate
reform of the Estates was matched by a no less determined opposition to the
formula of doubled representation for the third estate and voting by head.
Instead, he too added his voice to the campaign in favour of a veto, calling
upon his credentials as an antiquarian to claim that it was the basis of the
ancient constitution which would be easy to prove if the relevant archives
had not been lost in a fire.79 A number of other authors ventured into print
74 Cortot was the quintessential example of this attitude and his correspondence charts his progressive
disillusion with what he believed was the dangerously radical stance of his younger colleagues,
ADCO E 642. The wider movement is discussed by D. A. Bell, Lawyers and citizens. The making of
a political elite in old regime France (Oxford, 1994), pp. 182–9.
75 BMD 21537 (1), Un membre du tiers état à ses pairs. On this particular printed copy somebody has
written ‘par m. Xavier avocat’. This is hardly compelling evidence, but Xavier was one of those to
protest against voting by head in April 1789.
76 The complete title was Réflexions d’un Franc-bourguignon du tiers état, sur ce qui s’est passée à Dijon
entre la noblesse de Bourgogne, qui étoit assemblée, et l’ordre du tiers de la même ville, BMD 21537 (1).
On this particular copy, the chevalier de Berbisey had written ‘par M. Frochot avocat, who was
another of the group concerned by the radicalism of his colleagues. However, Richard, ‘Chastenay’,
333, has argued persuasively that Chastenay was the author.
77 BMD 21537 (1), Réflexions d’un Franc-bouguignon, fols. 2–6.
78 BMD 21537 (1), Replique du franc-bourguignon, and Lettre de M. Chastenay, de Flavigny en Bourgogne,
le 20 Février 1789, à l’auteur du journal général de France.
79 BMD 21537 (1), Réflexions d’un Franc-bourguignon, fols. 38–40.
both to challenge Chastenay and to ponder the issue of the veto.80 Most
were critical of the idea, in one instance even going so far as to equate it
with the notorious liberum veto that many held responsible for the political
anarchy in Poland!81
Ultimately Chastenay and his fellow nobles failed to persuade the third
estate of Dijon to rally to their side, and their vision of a provincial consti-
tution restored to its former glory could not match the alluring prospect of
the Dauphiné model. The Burgundian nobility’s failure left it perplexed,
even frightened, and as he considered the potential implications of voting
by head Chastenay asked rhetorically:
what demon enemy of France has blown this destructive poison into [our] spirits?
Unhappy third estate open your eyes and reflect, do not allow yourselves to be
carried away by a false hope of happiness and liberty . . . think of the common
good, and do not attempt to crush the nobility, if you do not wish to be crushed
in your turn.82
Unfortunately for the vicomte and those of his ilk, in 1789 the members
of the third estate had their eyes collectively fixed on the perceived threat
from the privileged orders, not the hoary old menace of ministerial despo-
tism. The origins of the incredible success of the abbé Sièyes’ legendary
Qu’est-ce que le tiers état, published in January of that year, lay in the fact that
he had given forceful expression to sentiments that had been agitating the
third estate since the autumn of 1788. The nobility’s hopes of reforming
the Estates of Burgundy had been swept away by this tide, and if change
was to be implemented it would require a national solution to the simple,
yet heavily loaded, question of whether voting was to be by order or by
head.
d i v i s i o n s h a rd e n
Following the collapse of negotiations with the nobility, the representatives
of the major corporations of Dijon assembled on 11 January 1789 to con-
sider their response.83 All were agreed on the need to seek redress for the
‘injustices’ suffered by the third estate within the existing organisation of
the provincial Estates, and the next few days were filled with meetings and
80 These included: La réponse au Franc Bourguignon, Réponse aux réflexions d’un Franc Bourguignon
par M. T. D. B. C. D. C. and L’anti-veto ou réflexions d’un citoyen, en opposition avec celles d’un
Franc Bourguignon, partisan du veto, des pouvoirs intermédiaires et rapportant tout à ce grand mot de
constitution.
81 Richard, ‘Chastenay’, 334.
82 BMD 21537 (1), Réflexions d’un Franc-bourguignon, fols. 40–1. 83 ADCO C 3475.
consultations as a committee sought to draft a full list of grievances. The
result was the Requête au roi adopted by the various corps of the city at
an assembly held in the university on 18 January.84 The text contained a
ringing endorsement of voting by head for both the forthcoming Estates
General and a reformed Estates of Burgundy. Yet alongside these pre-
dictable demands were a whole series of damning criticisms of the provincial
Estates that shed light on why compromise with the nobility had proved
impossible.
Louis XVI was informed that the ‘regime of our Estates, Sire, is alarm-
ing by the countless vices that it is infected, by the oppressive abuses that
result’.85 According to the authors of the Requête, the root cause of the
problem lay in the absence of genuine representation. Absent from the
ranks of the chamber of the clergy were the humble curés, whose contacts
with ordinary people provided them with a particularly detailed knowledge
of the state of the province.86 Nor was the nobility properly represented,
as only those possessing a fief in the province and a pedigree of at least
one hundred years standing could attend. Such restrictions meant that
‘this numerous, wealthy and enlightened class has no representation in
the provincial assembly’. As the nobility had been continually tightening
its requirements for entry to the Estates throughout the previous century,
these were telling criticisms. Not surprisingly, the third estate was especially
concerned by its own limited representation. Attention was drawn to the
nefarious consequences of venality, which had ended any pretence of free
election. If the principal towns had lost the right to choose their deputies to
the Estates, the majority of the smaller towns and the people of the coun-
tryside had been completely excluded. There was an unwritten assumption
running through the Requête au roi that such inequality was no longer
justifiable.
In their unreformed state, the Estates were depicted as a passive and
largely ineffectual body, which spent more time upon ‘ruinously expen-
sive festivities than useful works’.87 The third estate also drew the king’s
attention to the règlement of 1742, which, they claimed, shackled the pa-
triotic sentiments of the alcades. Similar arguments had long punctuated
the writings of noble reformers, but where the two sides parted company
was over the nature of the constitution. After reminding the king that in
Burgundy the vote of two orders could bind the third, the third estate of
Dijon declared:
84 ADCO C 3475, Requête au roi et délibération du tiers-état de la ville de Dijon du 18 Janvier 1789.
85 Ibid., fol. 4. 86 Ibid., fols. 5–7. 87 Ibid., fols. 10–11.
it is unhappily too true that the privileged orders have always regarded as their first
prerogative, the right to exempt themselves from all [financial] burdens, calculate,
if it is possible, how such a weapon in their hands has wounded the third estate.
Such is this tyrannical regime which seems to have been conceived in hatred of
the most numerous and the most useful portion of the nation; worthy image of
the feudal aristocracy where it was born.88
Despite the undercurrent of hostility towards the nobility running through
the Requête au roi, its authors did acknowledge the belated conversion of
the privileged to fiscal equality. The offer of a veto was, however, dismissed
as a self-serving attempt to block ‘any deliberations that it [the noblesse]
considers contrary to its interests’.89
The composition and the conduct of the provincial administration was
denounced in no less scathing terms. Rather than add another coat of
varnish to the classic portrait of well-meaning élus hoodwinked by their
permanent officials, the third estate attacked the representatives of the
privileged orders. According to the authors of the Requête au roi, the fact
that the élus of the clergy and the nobility had one vote each in the chamber
meant that they could easily dictate its decisions. Taken on its own terms
the argument was correct. As president of the chamber, the élu of the clergy
had the deciding vote, which meant that in order to prevail it was only
necessary for the privileged orders to coax one of the representatives of
either the third estate or the Chambre des Comptes to join their number.90
Having established the theoretical dominance of the privileged, the authors
of the Requête au roi concluded that the élus of the privileged orders were
almost inevitably ‘the absolute arbiters of the administration. The order
of the third [estate] only appears there via representatives, that it has not
chosen, to receive [for] a second time the law’.91
Once published, the Requête au roi received a rapturous reception
throughout the province.92 No less than sixty-two separate corporations
pledged their allegiance to the Requête, and the third estate of several of
the larger towns, including Avallon, Auxonne, Charolles, Montbard and
Saulieu, adhered to it. Others preferred to address their own petition to the
crown. On 9 February 1789, an assembly of the inhabitants of Aignay-le-
Duc listened to a stinging attack on the abuses which ‘flow from the vicious
88 Ibid., fol. 7. 89 Ibid., fol. 13.
90 Within the chamber, the élu of the third estate and the vicomte-mayeur of Dijon together had one
vote as did the two deputies of the Chambre des Comptes. However, for their voice to count they had
to be of the same opinion, otherwise they cancelled each other out, see chapter 5.
91 ADCO C 3475, Requête au roi, fol. 9.
92 The Requête was widely circulated to the towns and parishes of Burgundy, which were asked to send
their own letters to the king.
organisation of the Estates of this province’.93 After hearing the angry or-
ator denounce the allegedly prodigious cost of the Estates, the inequality
of the tax system and the abusive actions of the chamber of élus, the local
citizens voted to add their voice to calls for reform on the basis of voting
by head. Individual corps also joined in the chorus, and the Requête au
roi composed by the avocats of Semur-en-Auxois was typical of the genre,
declaring that in ‘the Estates of Burgundy, all is abuse upon abuse, excess
upon excess, in the right and the fact’.94
The various letters and requêtes sent to the king in the first weeks of 1789
were clearly part of the national campaign for voting by head, and they pro-
vide further evidence, were it needed, of how misguided the government’s
reaction to that demand was. Within the pays d’états, there was an addi-
tional dimension to the battle, because it was expected that the provincial
estates would meet in order to elect deputies and prepare lists of grievances
for the Estates General. Now that they had discovered their political voice,
the leaders of the third estate of Burgundy dreaded the prospect of the local
Estates meeting in their unreformed state and promptly disenfranchising
them. Consequently many of the petitions sent to the crown contained
demands that any meeting of the Estates of Burgundy be held according
to the model agreed in Dauphiné. With the noblesse having already stated
its opposition to such a programme, the early months of 1789 were filled
with speculation about whether or not the provincial Estates would meet
and, if so, in what form.
Louis XVI did promise a noble deputation that a meeting would be held
before the opening of the Estates General, but on 17 April that decision was
reversed. The king informed the commandant of the province, Gouvernet,
that ‘my attention is fixed primarily upon the troubles that would result
from holding the Estates of Burgundy, in the midst of the spirit of division
that I see, with pain, reign in this province’.95 The king, or more realistically
his ministers, had interpreted the situation accurately enough. While never
threatening to match the bitter and angry scenes enacted in Brittany, the
nobility and third estate of Burgundy had been unable to follow the exam-
ple of their compatriots in Dauphiné. Through their inability to resolve
the dispute arising from the question of whether voting should be by order
93 ADCO C 3475, ‘Délibération des habitants du bourg d’Aignay-le-Duc (9 Février 1789)’. Similar
scenes were repeated elsewhere, see: ibid., ‘Extrait des délibérations de la chambre de la police . . .
de Châtillon-sur-Seine’, and Fontaine-lès-Dijon, BMD 21537 (1), ‘Délibération des habitans de
Fontaine-lès-Dijon, au sujet des abus de l’administration de la province, envoyée à M. Necker,
directeur général des finances, le mardi 13 Janvier 1789’.
94 Quoted in Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, pp. 507–13.
95 ADCO C 3367, fol. 223, Louis XVI to Gouvernet, 17 April 1789.
or by head, they also gave a warning of the seriousness of the crisis awaiting
the forthcoming Estates General.
t h e c a h i e r s d e d o l é a n c e s
The failure to agree upon the future composition of their Estates meant
that Burgundians were obliged to wait upon the verdict of the Estates
General. That prospect was in itself divisive, and the corps of avocats in
Dijon was split between those who believed that the national assembly
could legislate on provincial matters and their opponents, who argued that
the Burgundian constitution was paramount. Put simply, the latter group
argued that:
it is not for the Estates General of the realm to pronounce on the reform of abuse[s]
that have slipped into the those of the duchy of Burgundy; it is for the people of the
three estates of this province to decide in the general assembly of the Burgundian
nation, that is to say the three orders which compose the nation.96
In effect, the third estate in Dijon was already debating the legitimacy of
a renunciation of privilege comparable to that enacted on the night of
4 August 1789, and a minority was fearful of its likely consequences. How-
ever, the vast majority of Burgundians were unaware of these thorny con-
stitutional issues, and with the wind apparently blowing strongly in favour
of decentralised government they assumed that a reinvigorated provincial
Estates would be part of the new political order. As a result, the population
treated the preparation of their lists of grievances in the spring of 1789 as an
opportunity to censor their existing administration and to propose means
of reforming it.
One of the most dramatic events of 1789 was the revolt of the curés,
with the lower clergy gradually discarding their traditional deference for
their ecclesiastical superiors in favour of solidarity with the third estate.97
The clergy of the diocese of Dijon assembled in late March, and signs of
conflict within the order were quickly apparent.98 When asked by the third
estate to accept the principle of voting by head in future sessions of both
the national and provincial estates, the clerics initially agreed. However, the
96 ‘Protestation des avocats au Parlement de Dijon’, quoted in Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, pp. 501–5. The
protest was signed by at least twenty-four avocats, including Vireley and Morisot who were both
conseils des états.
97 Recent discussions of this important development include: Aston, End of an elite, pp. 134–56, and
McManners, Church and society, ii, pp. 703–44.
98 BMD MS 1415 (mic. 59), ‘Proces verbal de l’assemblée du clergé du bailliage principal de Dijon
(Beaune, Auxonne, Nuits, Saint-Jean-de-Losne) 30 Mars 1789’.
aggrieved intervention of the local nobility forced first the suspension and
subsequently the overturning of that decision in favour of vote by order.
It was the first hint that the clergy had been listening to the constitutional
debate, and, on 7 April, the curés struck a more decisive blow. According to
the outraged former élu, the abbé de Luzines, they passed a motion stating
that the ‘cahier would be charged with a demand that henceforth the curés
of the province be represented in the Estates of Burgundy in proportion
to their number’.99 When Luzines and a group of senior clerics sought to
block the motion their words were stifled by ‘constant jeers and catcalls’.100
Nor was the abbé any more successful when it came to controlling the
election of deputies to the Estates General, and, together with thirty-four
others, he stormed out of the assembly before the votes were cast. It is likely
that, as a former élu and a protégé of the prince de Condé, Luzines was
expecting to be elected himself. If so, his hopes were dashed and Claude
Merceret, curé of Fontaine-lès-Dijon, was selected to make the journey to
Versailles together with the bishop of Dijon.
Luzines was left to lament the collapse of good order in his correspon-
dence with the governor, and both men bemoaned the nefarious effects
of allowing ordinary curés to gather in such numbers.101 Yet the disap-
pointment of Luzines should not be allowed to disguise the fact that the
bishop of Dijon had been elected without difficulty, unlike his counter-
part in nearby Mâcon who, when confronted by a phalanx of country
curés, had withdrawn from the proceedings in disgust.102 Nor was the final
cahier especially radical. On the issue of the provincial constitution, the
diocese of Dijon favoured a largely conservative position; change was only
to be affected by the local Estates legitimately assembled, and they favoured
voting by order.103 At Auxerre, where the bishop was elected by the nar-
rowest of margins, the clergy had little to say on local self-government
beyond a general call for provincial estates to be established in the pays
d’élections.104
At Autun, on the other hand, the local clergy were treated to a vir-
tuoso performance from their recently installed bishop, Talleyrand. An
99 ADCO C 3475, ‘Protestation, 7 Avril 1789’.
100 Ibid. It should be noted that this was how Luzines interpreted events.
101 For an insight into this correspondence see ADCO C 3475, Condé to abbé de Luzines, 16 April
1789.
102 McManners, Church and society, ii, p. 737.
103 ADCO C 3475, ‘Cahier de l’ordre du clergé du bailliage principal de Dijon, et des bailliages
secondaires de Beaune, Nuits, Auxonne et Saint Jean de Losne, contenant les instructions et les
pouvoirs, que donne le dit ordre à ses députés aux États Généraux convoqués pour le 27 Avril 1789’.
104 BN Joly de Fleury 1044, fol. 304, ‘Cahiers des petitions de l’ordre du clergé du bailliage d’Auxerre’.
aristocratic prelate with neither faith nor vocation, he spent the early
months of 1789 in his episcopal city where he won admiration for his dis-
plays of piety.105 When the local clerics gathered to elect their deputies and
draft their cahier, the bishop delivered a stirring speech outlining the short-
comings of the provincial administration, which he blamed firmly on the
effects of ministerial despotism.106 Talleyrand’s praise of the alcades, attacks
on the épices paid to the Chambre des Comptes and criticism of the lack of
genuine representation, revealed that he had been following the Burgundian
political debate as well as reading his breviary, and it was enough to seal
his election. Overall, however, the impression from the surviving cahiers
of the Burgundian clergy is one of relative indifference to the conduct
of the provincial administration, and they happily limited themselves to
general expressions of support for a more representative version of the old
Estates.
As we have seen, those nobles who had assembled in Dijon, or committed
their thoughts to print, were enthusiastic supporters of revitalised Estates,
but they had stopped short of accepting voting by head. More liberal sen-
timents are hard to find, and the only strong movement in favour of the
position of the third estate came at the meeting of the nobles of Châtillon-
sur-Seine.107 There a real debate took place, and it was only by ‘a thin
majority’ that support for voting by order was maintained. Elsewhere the
situation was very different and the nobles of Dijon ordered their deputies
to withdraw or abstain rather than vote by head in the Estates General.108 As
the members of the second order in the provincial capital had already made
their attitude towards reform of the provincial Estates clear, it is interesting
to scan the cahiers of the other bailliages on the subject. The noblesse of
Autun, Semur-en-Brionnais, Montcenis and Bourbon-Lancy also rejected
voting by head, and ordered their deputies to the Estates General to reject
any measures contrary to ‘the constitution of the province, as well as its
rights, liberties and privileges; the Estates of Burgundy alone having the
right to decide the changes which could appear necessary to them’.109 They
105 McManners, Church and society, ii, p. 740.

106 A. de Charmasse and P. Montarlot eds., Cahiers des communautés du bailliage d’Autun pour les états
généraux de 1789 (Autun, 1895), pp. 353–83, esp. 360–3.
107 Richard, ‘Nouveaux documents’, 69. These events were referred to in the correspondence of Cortot,
ADCO E 642, bis, Lambert to Cortot, 3 March 1789. In his letter, Lambert claimed that eighteen
or nineteen gentlemen had adhered to the position of the third estate.
108 ADCO C 3475, ‘Cahier des pouvoirs et instructions remis à messieurs Lemulier de Bressey et comte
de Levis, élus députés aux prochains États-Généraux, par l’ordre de la noblesse du bailliage de
Dijon, le 8 Avril 1789’.
109 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 345, 350.
had nothing to say about the provincial administration other than to de-
mand the abolition of the intendancy and the transfer of its powers to the
élus.
The cahier drafted by the nobles of the Auxois was scarcely more forth-
coming. They too defended Burgundy’s constitutional independence rel-
ative to the Estates General, even on matters of taxation, and wanted to
dismiss the intendant.110 It was left to the nobles of Bar-sur-Seine to ad-
vance some more original ideas.111 They accepted the right of the national
assembly to interfere in the internal affairs of the provinces, and suggested
that ‘it would be worthy of the wisdom of the Estates General to forbid
sumptuous feasts and gambling’.112 The nobles were also impressed by the
midwifery courses subsidised by the élus and wanted the programme ex-
panded. This rather curious choice of emphasis was the sum total of the
commentary on provincial affairs by the admittedly small number of no-
bles resident in Bar-sur-Seine. However, the general absence of references
to the Burgundian Estates in the cahiers of the province’s nobility was not
altogether surprising. Many refused to accept that the Estates General had
the right to interfere in their affairs, and a wide-ranging reform programme
had been advanced during the meetings in Dijon only a few months be-
fore. Their failure on that occasion presumably contributed to their relative
silence thereafter.
Unlike those of their privileged counterparts, the cahiers of the third
estate were brimming with comments, criticisms and ideas for reforming
the Estates.113 It has long been known that many of the documents drafted
in the small towns and villages of France were based upon those of the
cities, or had been penned by the ubiquitous lawyers who provided much
of the political leadership in 1789. Burgundy was no exception to this rule.
The cahier of the third estate of Dijon has been described as a ‘model
framework’,114 and numerous communities were content to list their local
grievances and then ‘adhere’ to that of the provincial capital, or to those of
other towns such as Autun or Semur-en-Auxois, on weightier issues.115 As
110 ADCO C 3475, ‘Noblesse du bailliage d’Auxois’.
111 Vernier, ed., Cahiers de Bar-sur-Seine, iii, pp. 460–70. 112 Ibid. pp 467–8.
113 The following is not based upon an exhaustive study of the vast corpus of cahiers produced by the
third estate of Burgundy. Instead, it is an attempt to sample the concerns of the order relative to
the Estates of the province using, in particular, the published documents for the bailliages of Dijon,
Autun, Bar-sur-Seine and Semur-en-Auxois. It is likely that further investigation would confirm
the predominance of the themes discussed below.
115 For a number of examples, see: Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 12–13, 83, 93,
109, 152, 223, 230; Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, pp. 368, 380, 384, 425–7; and Vernier, ed., Cahiers de
Bar-sur-Seine, ii, p. 496, iii, 346, 407, 417.
we might expect, on matters pertaining to the provincial Estates the central
thrust of these cahiers was for the adoption of the Dauphiné model in
Burgundy.116 It is also clear that the Requête au roi of 18 January, which had
circulated widely within the province, provided the ammunition for many
of the cahiers. Yet, without denying the extent to which the Requête and the
cahier of Dijon served as templates for others, it is clear that the inhabitants
of the small towns and the countryside had their own distinctive voice to
add. Their grievances were more closely focused upon the actual practice
of the provincial administration than the constitutional issues which so
animated the bourgeoisie of Dijon. These rural cahiers are, therefore, an
invaluable record of how ordinary Burgundians viewed the performance of
their rulers.
One of the most striking features of the cahiers is the relative absence
of outright hostility towards the institution of the Estates. Rare are those
like the community of Mesvre in the Autunois which called for their sup-
pression, although in the comté of Bar-sur-Seine a number of villages on
the administrative frontier did ask to be reincorporated into the province
of Champagne.117 An absence of any reference to the Estates was also com-
paratively rare, and, of sixty-five cahiers produced by the third estate of the
bailliage of Autun, only four kept totally silent on the issue. In the comté
of Bar-sur-Seine only the village of Balnot-le-Chatel ignored the Estates
entirely.118 There was, therefore, a general assumption, even desire, that
the provincial Estates would play a central part in the new administrative
structure, and communities were determined to secure their own partici-
pation. Countless villages called for the countryside to be represented in
the Estates, as did the smaller towns such as Couches, which declared that
‘the parish contains at least 500 hearths and it pays heavy taxes, [it] will
deputise directly to the provincial Estates’.119
Specific projects for reform of the chamber of élus were rare, and most
were content to make a general request for better representation of the
third estate. One notable exception was the cahier of Bourbon-Lancy.120 It
116 The cahier of Dijon is cited by Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, pp. 249–50.
117 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, p. 136, and Vernier, ed., Cahiers de Bar-sur-Seine, iii,
pp. 310, 349–67, 411–18. They had been joined to Burgundy during the reign of Louis XV.
118 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 159, 173, 200, 209, and Vernier, ed., Cahiers de
Bar-sur-Seine, iii, pp. 270–8. As R. H. Blackman, ‘Representation without revolution: political
representation as defined in the general cahiers de doléances of 1789’, French History 15 (2001),
159–85, esp. 176, has noted, over 80 per cent of the general cahiers of both the nobility and third
estate demanded provincial assemblies of some kind.
119 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, p. 57. Most villages were content to make a general
demand for representation, for example, ibid., pp. 25, 32, 43, 49, 127, 169, 193.
120 Ibid., pp. 295–328.
proposed dividing each bailliage into districts, which would elect councils
to oversee the administration in their locality, and then send deputies to the
assemblies of the Estates. The aim was to create a new tier of government
with a better understanding of the needs of the people, whose knowledge
would subsequently be put to good effect by choosing the élus from amongst
those who had served at district level.
Other cahiers were less constructive in their criticisms. That composed by
the villagers of Dracy-les-Viteaux in the Auxois was scathing in its condem-
nation of the élus, informing Louis XVI that ‘our province is administered
by men who are called élus, but who assuredly will never be élus in the
kingdom of heaven: only those who love justice will enter there, and it
seems that the élus of Burgundy are élus precisely to commit iniquity’.121
The authors of the cahier cited the fire fund established by the chamber as
an example of its uncharitable conduct because the sums distributed were
raised directly from the taille. In angry tones they thundered:
destroy therefore, Sire, destroy our élus, and put them in this world amongst the
ranks of the condemned; forgive us these strong expressions, they are born of the
just indignation which animates us, us and all the communities of poor Burgundy,
unhappy victim of their tyranny.
Yet, even this seemingly damning verdict was followed by a more familiar
appeal for reformed Estates with freely elected élus to replace them. Indeed
the overall impression from the cahiers is that direct criticism of the élus
was comparatively muted,122 and their personal qualities, or integrity, were
rarely called into question. At most they were accused of not responding to
the requêtes submitted to them, especially those dealing with fiscal matters,
and even these failings were often attributed to the incompetence or ill-will
of their subordinates.
What really incensed the third estate was the fiscal system, over which
the élus presided, and protests against fiscal inequality appeared in one
form or another in the vast majority of cahiers. Many repeated the earlier
arguments about the third estate alone paying for works of public utility,
which the villagers of Champrenault and Saint-Helier believed to have
reduced a class born ‘poor and free’ to ‘about the same level as negroes’.123
The selfish motives of the privileged offered the most obvious explanation
for fiscal inequality, and some went further, linking the abuse to a lack of

122 For other examples, see: Vernier, ed., Cahiers de Bar-sur-Seine, iii, pp. 353, 384–6, 493.
proper representation.124 Nor was it simply a case of complaining about
the burden supported by the third estate alone. Attention was also focused
upon the inequalities resulting from the collection of universal taxes, and,
after providing a detailed breakdown of its vingtième payments, the village
of Landreville asked:
how could the administration of the élus of Burgundy have burdened a commu-
nity with such a heavy load ? For years we have trembled to be the prey of an
administration as vicious, arbitrary and tyrannical as that of the province to which
we are joined.125
Landreville was part of the comté of Bar-sur-Seine where hostility to the
élus was particularly pronounced, largely on account of what the local
inhabitants believed was their disproportionately high share of the common
tax burden, and elsewhere criticism was generally less strident. Even so, there
was clearly frustration and anger that the benefits of the abonnement system
were not more evenly distributed.126
The actual administration of the fiscal system provided another source
of discontent. It was widely believed that the élus had no knowledge of the
communities they taxed and, more tellingly, that it was difficult to obtain a
fair hearing for appeals against individual assessments. At its most extreme
this resulted in the claim contained in the cahier of Pouillenay ‘that sev-
eral individuals have not been discharged from the vingtième, even though
they no longer possess the property on which it is levied’.127 Nor could
they obtain redress because the requêtes they sent to the élus were ignored.
While grumbling of this type was quite common, it paled into insignifi-
cance when set against the outpouring of anger against the system of cotes
d’office, whereby the élus were empowered to fix individual tax assessments
by administrative fiat.128 Intended to protect communities from the tax
evasion by the rich and powerful, the procedure had caused bitter conflict
between the élus and the Parlement of Dijon throughout the eighteenth
century. A closer look at why it attracted so much hostile commentary in
1789 is therefore helpful.
124 The village of Celles in the comté of Bar-sur-Seine was a particularly good example, Vernier, ed.,
Cahiers de Bar-sur-Seine, i, pp. 488–500.
125 Ibid., iii, pp. 297–8.
126 The villagers of Verley-sous-Dree in the Auxois expressed the matter succinctly, protesting that ‘nos
vingtièmes sont abonnés dans cette province, et que le peuple ne profite pas du bénéfice qu’elle y
fait’, Robin, Semur-en-Auxois, p. 384.
127 Ibid., p. 401.
128 See: Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 12, 20, 26, 72, 120, 153, 181, 199, 240; Robin,
Semur-en-Auxois, p. 419; and Vernier, ed., Cahiers de Bar-sur-Seine, i, pp. 491–3, iii, pp. 253, 299,
322, 336, 346, 407.
According to the authors of the cahiers, cotes d’office were ‘worthy of
public execration’, ‘humiliating’ and decided by the élus ‘on the [basis] of
reports that are made without examination and without knowing if they
are true or false’.129 As the cotes were, in theory, more likely to be employed
against the wealthiest in a community, it is possible that the volume of
complaint reflects the prominence of these same figures in drafting the
cahiers. However, the sheer volume of protest does imply that they were
genuinely unpopular, and part of the explanation may lie in the manner in
which the élus used their powers. When four inhabitants of Givry refused
to present themselves for the corvée in 1729 they were taxed ‘by office’
as a punishment.130 François Vielard, on the other hand, received a cote
d’office ‘of 20 livres for having shown disrespect to one of messieurs when he
spoke to him about repairs of the roads’. A similar retributive element was
present in more conventional cases. In May 1773, the élus had informed
the intendant that the tax of a certain sieur Lantissier had been doubled ‘as
punishment’ for having interfered in the preparation of the rolls.131 Finally,
as the élus later admitted in a letter to the contrôleur général of October
1788, ‘they believed it fair to force a little the first year, a cote [d’office], both
to indemnify the community for the loss it had sustained during the period
that the tax was too light, and to oblige individuals to declare their true
means’.132 Attitudes and practices such as these presumably account for the
numerous references to cotes d’office as ‘cotes of punishment’ in the cahiers,
and they also suggest that the Parlement of Dijon was justified in claiming
that it should hear appeals, not the chamber of élus.
No assessment of the provincial administration was complete without
an almost obligatory attack upon the receivers, and the cahiers of the third
estate were no exception. The people of Uncey [le-Franc], were convinced
that the ‘receivers of the taille grow fat on their sweat and they all become
very rich by the revenues that they make from their place’.133 Similar senti-
ments were to be found in the cahier of Marchéseuil which called for a cut
in the fees paid to the treasurer general, and the abolition of the receivers,
‘these public leeches, fattened on the blood of the people’.134 The fact that
129 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 111 (Issy-l’Éveque), 181 (Saint-Jean-le-Grand), 224
(Sully-en-Duché).
130 For these and other examples, see ADCO C 4957, bis, fols. 3–34.
131 ADCO C 3363, fols. 166–8, Amelot to the élus, 18 May 1773, and their reply of the same date. This
was merely one incident in a long-running saga, and Lantissier was still contesting the matter in
1777, ADCO C 3364, fol. 95, the élus to Dupleix de Bacquencourt, 30 December 1777.
132 ADCO C 3367, fols. 167–9, the élus to the contrôleur général, 28 October 1788.
134 Charmasse and Montarlot, Cahiers d’Autun, pp. 127–30.
the same cahier contained a torrent of abuse against cotes d’office and the
whole provincial administration, and was signed by J. Lantissier, does look
suspicious. Yet even if the tone of these attacks was especially violent, it
remains true that the abolition of the receivers, or at least a sharp cut in
their fees, was one of the most common demands of the third estate.
Amongst the achievements of the élus, constructing an efficient road
network took pride of place, and there were few complaints about the
quality of the provincial highways. Any critical references were reserved
for the minor roads, which had only recently come under the jurisdiction
of the élus, with demands that they receive a similar degree of care and
attention. Instead, almost every cahier contained a denunciation of the
corvée, regardless of the fact that it had recently been abolished. Ordinary
Burgundians clearly dreaded the prospect of its re-establishment, and still
felt it necessary to cram their cahiers with demands for its suppression,
or commutation into a cash payment to be paid by all three orders. As
we might expect, accusations of favouritism in the choice of priorities for
public works or corruption in the distribution of contracts did occasionally
surface. However, complaints were few in number and there was no great
wave of denunciation against the conduct of the administration.
Much the same could be said of the other tasks overseen by the élus.
Nothing caused the inhabitants of the countryside more grief than the
militia, ‘the tax dreaded most by the peasantry’, and the call for its sup-
pression was almost universal.135 Yet the administration of the élus, who
had always been responsible for the drawing of lots and the mustering and
payment of the conscripts, escaped almost without comment. The gen-
eral cahier of Autun, Montcenis, Semur-en-Brionnais and Bourbon-Lancy
also contained an article calling for the suppression of the provincial stud
which it claimed was of no public utility. The inclusion of this demand was
rather curious given that only one of nearly one hundred known cahiers had
advocated such a step, and that was the particularly venomous one from
Marchéseuil.
Taken as a whole the cahiers of the smaller towns and villages of Burgundy
were not charged with an overwhelming number of specific allegations of
misconduct. The tax system, especially its inequalities, and the fiscal officers
of the Estates had attracted the fiercest and most widespread criticism, and
the need for reform was undeniable. Yet these understandable grievances
135 Ibid., p. 119. The phrase is taken from the cahier of Laisy in the Autunois and it was repeated in
many others, suggesting it was chosen from a ‘model’ cahier. The hatred of the militia was, however,
real enough and the Burgundian peasantry reacted in much the same way as their compatriots
elsewhere.
were not accompanied by calls for the suppression of the Estates, and the
majority clearly believed that they could be reformed. Although there are
examples of the administration being denounced as ‘vicious’ or ‘tyrannical’,
they remain a minority, albeit not quite as small a one as the list of cahiers
praising the élus! The general impression is of an institution which, while
not much loved, was respected, and for all its faults was expected to play
a part in the eagerly anticipated reform of the kingdom.
In the twilight of the ancien régime, the Estates of Burgundy had been
subject to an unprecedented degree of scrutiny by the inhabitants of the
province. Projects for reform had surfaced within the Estates before August
1788 and in the wider province thereafter. What they had in common was
a desire to strengthen the powers of the Estates by making them more rep-
resentative and by increasing the authority of their assemblies and alcades.
One of the principal objectives of this campaign was to impose a greater
degree of control over the conduct of the chamber of élus, whose actions
were increasingly felt to be arbitrary and unaccountable. In a sense, these
arguments reflected a popular mood in which all existing authority was
treated with suspicion and actual examples of misconduct were rare. As a
result, even the fiercest critics of the provincial administration were quite
happy to keep the existing institutional structure once it had been made
more representative. It was the intendant, not the Estates or élus, who was
seen as surplus to local requirements.
On these grounds at least, it is possible to see how the privileged orders
and the third estate might have united behind a programme of institutional
regeneration because, if the provincial administration was far from pop-
ular, it was still seen as essential to local governance. What stopped such
an alliance from forming was the vexed issue of voting in any revitalised
provincial Estates. The Burgundian noblesse, while not as hidebound as its
compatriots in Brittany, was determined to maintain voting by order, partly
because it believed that this was a necessary barrier to despotism and royal
interference, but also to preserve its own privileges and distinctions. The
nobles were backward looking in the sense that they sought the restoration
of an allegedly golden age before a perfect provincial constitution had been
corrupted by the poison of ministerial despotism. The third estate, on the
other hand, had initially been preoccupied with the issue of fiscal inequal-
ity, and the rejection of most of its demands by the privileged orders had
undoubtedly created doubts about their motives. By the time the nobil-
ity finally embraced the principle, in the autumn of 1788, it was too late
because the third estate was already emboldened by the winds of change
blowing in from Dauphiné. The proposal to introduce a veto offered hope
that a Burgundian voting model might be created, but the nobility would
not make one final gesture by agreeing to vote by head if the three orders
were deadlocked. That failure stemmed from the political consequences of
the social divisions embodied in the vexed question of voting procedure.
It had paralysed the attempt to reinvigorate the Estates of Burgundy, and
within a few months it would destroy the absolute monarchy.
Conclusion
t h e f i n a l ac t
Once the Estates General opened in May 1789 provincial affairs faded from
view as all eyes were fixed on the drama being played out at Versailles.
The lethargy of Louis XVI soon ensured that the issue of voting poisoned
the political atmosphere of the Estates General in much the same way as
it had already done in Burgundy. Revolution was the result, and by the
end of July the Estates General had been transformed into the Constituent
Assembly, the self-appointed representative of the sovereign nation, charged
with endowing France with a constitution. In the new political climate
nothing was sacred, and on the night of 4 August the Assembly struck
a decisive blow against what was already being described as the ancien
régime. Intoxicated by patriotism, fear of the violence in the countryside,
or too much wine, depending on personal interpretation, deputies flocked
to the rostrum to renounce the rights of the corps and provinces of the
kingdom in a veritable bonfire of the privileges. At a stroke, the constitution,
rights and liberties of Burgundy were swept away, and with them went the
justification for the existence of the provincial estates. Even at this late stage,
it was not impossible that they could be preserved as part of a reformed
local government structure based upon the old provinces. The wind was,
however, blowing strongly in the direction of a new division of the kingdom
founded upon the enlightened ideals of rationality and uniformity rather
than ancient charters and tradition. The decisive debates took place in
the early autumn, and, on 26 October, assemblies of the provincial estates
were forbidden. A new system of departments, districts and cantons was
officially approved in December 1789, and elections were held in July 1790
inaugurating the active life of a local government structure that was one of
the most enduring legacies of the revolution.
As the administrative edifice of the ancien régime came tumbling down,
the prince de Condé was quick to join the émigrés, while the intendant of
400
Conclusion 401
Dijon, Amelot, left Burgundy for Paris on 22 July 1789 and never returned.
If the élus had been the dilettantes so frequently denounced by historians,
they might have been expected to melt away. That they preferred to remain
stoically at their posts until August 1790, grappling manfully with the
immensely difficult task of governing in uncertain times when their own
institution had been condemned, says far more about their real character
both then and over the period of this study as a whole. The archives are
brimming with the documents generated by the élus concerning taxation,
including the new patriotic contribution, roads, canals and military étapes.1
Not for nothing did Daniel Ligou remark that from reading the registers
of the Estates, one could be forgiven for believing that there had not been a
revolution in France.2 A similar pride and determination to fulfil their duty
animated the alcades, who assembled regularly during the spring of 1790 to
produce a thorough collection of remarques for the triennalité of 1787–90.3
The result was a remarkably smooth transition from the old administrative
world to the new, even if the élus were determined to hold on to power for as
long as was legally permissible, much to the frustration of the commissariat
charged with winding up the financial and other affairs of the Estates. The
final bell tolled on 14 August 1790 when the vicomte de Bourbon-Busset,
élu of the nobility, replied to a letter sent by the contrôleur général, Lambert.
He wrote:
I have received the letter that you have done the honour of writing to the élus
généraux on the 10th of this month, to which was joined the king’s proclamation of
8 August 1790, issued on the decree of the National Assembly of 10 July, ordering
the revocation of the administration previously confided to the élus généraux of
the duchy of Burgundy, comtés and pays adjacents. I am with respect, sir, your very
humble and obedient servant.4
As he laid down his quill after writing this simple letter of acknowledgement,
Bourbon-Busset completed the final act in the long history of the Estates
General of Burgundy.
the es tat e s a n d a b s o lu t e m o n a rc h y : s o m e re f l e c t i o n s
When, in 1842, the historian Théodore Foisset asked himself the rhetorical
question: ‘what had the Estates of Burgundy become under Louis XV?’ he
1 D. Ligou, ‘La fin de la province de Bourgogne et le commissariat des départements bourguignons,

1789–1791’, Annales de Bourgogne 49 (1977), 121–56, provides a more detailed study of the final months
of the Estates. Further details can be gleaned from the remarques of the alcades prepared in 1790,
ADCO C 3307, fols. 81–136.
2 Ligou, ‘La fin de la province de Bourgogne’, 125–6. 3 ADCO C 3307, fols. 81–136.
4 ADCO C 3367, fol. 419, Bourbon-Busset to Lambert, 14 August 1790.
replied ‘a name’.5 It was an opinion shared by many subsequent scholars,
and one of the principal aims of this study was to examine the legitimacy of
such a damning verdict. As we have seen, the Estates of Burgundy, like those
elsewhere, had no shortage of weaknesses. For all their prestige and glitter,
the Estates were not a representative institution in any modern sense, and
only a fraction of their respective social groups sat in the chambers of the
three orders. While undoubtedly a disadvantage, it was hardly surprising
in the context of the times, and it did not invalidate the role that the
Estates performed. Far from being a medieval relic, the Estates remained
a lively and active institution throughout the period after 1661. Without
ever imitating the fiery scenes enacted in Brittany, the triennial assemblies
were working sessions, and the crown and its representatives were regularly
forced to use all of the arts of persuasion to ensure that financial and other
measures were approved.
Historians have often discounted the positive achievements of the
Estates, citing the reiteration of their décrets, or the remarques of the alcades,
as evidence of chronic abuse within the administration. Grave problems
undoubtedly existed, and the Estates were seriously handicapped by the
rarity and brevity of their meetings. This made it difficult to maintain
pressure on the élus, and it accounts, in part, for the need to repeat décrets
continually before their contents were absorbed into the routine of admin-
istrative practice. The willingness of the chambers to maintain that pressure
was crucial, and by issuing and reissuing décrets they were able to ensure
that change did eventually occur. They were assisted in this process by the
conscientious attitude of both the alcades and the province’s legal officers,
whose remarques, while too often ignored, bear witness to the existence of
a critical and reforming spirit within the Estates.
During the early part of the reign of Louis XIV, the Estates had de-
fended the privilege of holding triennial assemblies, presumably because
they believed that it would limit the crown’s ability to increase taxation. If
so, they were sadly mistaken. Rather than summon the Estates to approve
its fiscal demands, the crown chose to negotiate directly with the élus, and
the majority of taxation had been levied long before the Estates had an
opportunity to raise their voice. Here lies part of the explanation for why
Burgundy did not experience battles over new taxation comparable to those
which occurred in both Brittany and Languedoc, notably when Machault
d’Arnouville introduced his famous vingtième in 1749–50. To be fair to the
élus, they were never subservient to the demands of the contrôleur général,
and plenty of hard bargaining preceded the agreement to buy out royal
5 Foisset, Président de Brosses, p. 204.
Conclusion 403
edicts, or to sign a new abonnement. Indeed, on occasion, they refused to
contract abonnements altogether if they believed that the terms offered by
the king were unattractive.
By accident or design, the fact that the Estates were reduced to giving
retrospective approval to many financial demands was a prime cause of their
relative tranquillity once the crown began to introduce new forms of direct
taxation after 1695. There were, however, a series of interrelated factors
that account for the establishment of a relatively harmonious relationship.
Perhaps the most distinctive feature of the Burgundian political landscape
was the continuing status of the governor. The political rehabilitation of
the Grand Condé in 1660 permitted the re-establishment of his rule in
the province, and thereafter he and his descendants exercised a profound
influence upon the affairs of the Estates. Patronage in the form of the right
of appointment to key offices such as the treasurer general and secrétaires
des états and even some of the élus meant that throughout the period it is
possible to talk of the existence of a Condéan clientele.
With powerful allies in key positions, the governor dominated the meet-
ings of the Estates, and in his absence there was a network of loyal subordi-
nates to keep him informed of events in the chamber of élus. For the Condé,
the governorship brought substantial material rewards and also reinforced
respect for their position in the social hierarchy. Yet they never treated it as
a sinecure, and a real sense of dedication to their role, as well as affection
for the rights and traditions of the Estates, was maintained by successive
generations of the family. Only after 1740 was their influence challenged,
and the position inherited by the prince de Condé in 1754 was, in theory
at least, considerably weaker than that enjoyed by his father. In practice,
the crown proved reluctant to enforce many of its own règlements, and the
prince re-established much of his family’s old authority. If the Condé and
the Estates both benefited from the relationship, the crown had no reason
to complain. Successive governors proved to be effective managers of the
Estates, and they contributed enormously to the quiescence of the province
after 1661.
The power of the governor in Burgundy was probably unique, and if
this was the case the crown had overlooked a potentially valuable resource,
especially in troublesome provinces such as Brittany. It is, however, beyond
doubt that traditional interpretations, suggesting that the Estates were ei-
ther broken by the absolutism of the Sun King or swept away by the new
bureaucratic broom of the intendant, are mistaken. Instead, after 1661,
Louis XIV and Colbert succeeded in ending the customary practice of
haggling over the don gratuit and in reducing the tendency of the élus to
procrastinate over its payment. That transformation was achieved because
the monarch was prepared to offer tangible rewards for obedience, not least
by reducing his demands if they were first met in full. Much the same policy
was being pursued simultaneously in the other pays d’états, and by 1674 the
king had obtained the public signs of conformity that he so craved. Yet, as
we have suggested, it was the second half of his reign that brought the real
challenge to his ability to manage the Estates, as new taxation, buyouts and
other fiscal expedients rained down on the province.
In the face of Louis XIV’s fiscal onslaught, there was no repeat of the
truculence that had seen the Estates transferred to Noyers in 1658 nor
was there a revolt such as that which shook Brittany in 1675. The harsh
treatment inflicted upon the Bretons may well have had a sobering effect
on potential dissidents, and the king’s increasingly autocratic behaviour,
especially in time of war, reduced the scope for disruption still further.
Another factor that should not be overlooked was the impact of venality.
Although the governor had closely monitored elections, the deputies of the
third estate could still claim a form of mandate, and they were generally
to the fore in resisting increases to the don gratuit. After 1696, the mayors
of the towns, who composed the chamber of the third estate, were nomi-
nees of the Estates, completely dependent upon the goodwill of either the
governor or the élus. Their scope for opposition within the chamber was
thus sharply reduced.
With the third estate unlikely to pose a serious obstacle to royal demands
much depended on the attitude of the nobility and clergy, and they had
every reason to be satisfied with their lot. In Artois, Brittany and Languedoc,
the Estates had played an important role in establishing Louis XIV’s ruling
consensus, serving as the arena for the distribution of pensions and honours
as well as the wealth extracted from the peasantry through the tax system. As
we might expect, a similar pattern was detectable in Burgundy, and perhaps
as much as one third of the Estates’ revenues found its way into the pockets
of local elites. Most of the dons et gratifications accorded by the Estates went
to a narrow group composed of the governor and his household, the élus
and officers of the Estates, local dignitaries, notable military officers, the
intendant and the first president of the Parlement, and ministers and their
commis in Versailles. However, the circle of beneficiaries was widened by
the tax system, and the officers of the Chambre des Comptes reaped a rich
reward from their auditing of the provincial accounts. Finally, the provincial
debt offered a coveted investment opportunity, and as Louis XIV’s wars
required massive borrowing the governing elites profited handsomely. With
the economy reeling from the effects of natural and man-made disasters,
Conclusion 405
it was possible to lend to the Estates and receive an annual return of 5 per
cent with almost no risk of default. Not surprisingly, the chance to lend
to the Estates was highly prized, to the extent that some could seriously
consider making it a Burgundian privilege.
The Estates had proved themselves to be flexible and effective in their
response to Louis XIV’s financial demands, proving that representative
institutions could be a valuable partner for the absolute monarchy. The
system of loans covered by the proceeds of the rights to the crues or the
octrois on the river Saône, established between 1688 and 1715, endured largely
unchanged until the revolution. The monarchy was happy to endorse the
system because the credit of the Estates offered a precious resource that
could be counted upon in even the most trying circumstances. As the
debt expanded in the second half of the eighteenth century the practice
of borrowing for the king became entrenched, and the credit network
became increasingly cosmopolitan in nature. Yet the élus were still able to
manipulate the system to favour local interests, not least by placing local
money more advantageously, or by ensuring that Burgundians were the last
to be reimbursed. The introduction of universal direct taxation after 1695
saw the Estates protecting the interests of the privileged in other ways. By
contracting abonnements with the crown, the Estates helped the wealthiest
inhabitants to avoid paying their fair share of the burden. The abuse was
most glaring in the case of the capitation. Thanks to the deal struck in 1710,
the contribution of the privileged remained static throughout most of the
eighteenth century. More importantly, by allowing the chamber of nobility
to administer its own affairs, the abonnement allowed some to avoid paying
the tax altogether. The vingtième did briefly pose a more potent threat
to privileged interests before it too became subject to an abonnement and
a similar pattern of favouritism and inequality. No less striking was the
practice of increasing the taille to pay for public works and other projects
of general utility as well as to cover the costs of interest payments on the
provincial debt.
With such evident shortcomings, it is tempting to present the Estates
as little more than a mechanism for the defence of privilege and the dis-
tribution of its spoils. In some ways, such a harsh conclusion appears to
be merited, but it was not the whole story. Throughout the period, both
the Estates and their élus sought to limit the fiscal burden supported by the
province, and if the privileged were the principal beneficiaries they were
not uniquely so. Moreover, during the reign of Louis XVI a genuine reform
movement emerged that was committed to the principle of fiscal equality,
and to curbing some of the perceived abuses of the administration. The
ill-fated reforms of the abbé de La Goutte were the most striking example
of this phenomenon, and for a brief period during 1775–6 the province was
treated to the spectacle of the élus attacking privileged interests, much to
the horror of the Parlement of Dijon, the fiscal officers of the Estates and
wealthy landowners. The fall of Turgot and the politically confrontational
style of La Goutte and his allies meant that they were quickly defeated, and
the alcades fared no better when they sought to revive his schemes in 1781.
Yet their failure should not cause us to ignore the existence of a reformist
movement that refused to remain silent about the inequalities perpetuated
by the Estates. In November 1787, those campaigning for a fairer distribu-
tion of the tax burden, especially of the vingtièmes, finally triumphed, but
by then the monarchy was already lurching into its terminal political crisis.
Neither the Estates, nor the province’s taxpayers, would have time to reap
the rewards.
For much of the period under discussion, the degree of cooperation
between the crown and the Estates is striking, and it is tempting to dis-
count earlier interpretations such as that of Rebillon, whose study of the
Estates of Brittany was based upon a seemingly constant struggle between
the centre and the provinces.6 Overemphasising the degree of conflict risks
distortion, but it would be misleading to remove it from the picture al-
together. Louis XIV’s huge fiscal demands had by the end of the War of
the Spanish Succession pushed the Estates of Burgundy to refuse a num-
ber of his demands. After the death of the duc de Bourbon in 1740, the
crown issued a series of règlements that curbed the right of the Estates to
appoint their officers as well as their ability to regulate their own admin-
istration and internal procedures. The challenge to provincial autonomy
was underlined when the intendant, Joly de Fleury, bought the office of
élu du roi. Without resorting to extreme measures, the Estates maintained
a determined and largely successful campaign to reverse many of these de-
cisions, and to expel the intendant. They could not, however, escape the
tutelage of the crown entirely, and the triennalité of the abbé de La Goutte
(1775–8) revealed the limits of provincial independence. In the battle to
overturn the arrêt du conseil of 28 July 1776, that had quashed three de-
liberations of the chamber of élus, La Goutte and his supporters employed
language reminiscent of that used by the parlements. Rhetorical appeals
to the superior authority of the provincial constitution and to the historic
rights of the Estates were an indication that the potential for a more se-
rious clash existed. That threat was largely avoided, although it is clear
6 Rebillon, Etats de Bretagne, p. 455.

Conclusion 407
that managing the Estates was becoming more difficult during the reign
of Louis XVI.
If the assembled Estates were more active than is usually thought, it re-
mains true that their brief triennial gatherings meant that enormous power
was concentrated in the chamber of élus. Traditionally historians have been
scathing about the personal qualities of its members, assuming that the
permanent officers were the real arbiters of provincial affairs.7 Such an ar-
gument is flawed for a number of reasons. In reality, many of the élus were
distinguished individuals in their own right, often with considerable expe-
rience of administration. Moreover, like the permanent officers, they were
frequently part of the governor’s clientèle or had deliberately cultivated his
favour. Perhaps more importantly, attempts to divide the chamber into
groups of incompetent amateurs and wily professionals result from a mis-
understanding of the nature of ancien régime government and society. The
senior clerics and aristocrats who served as the élus of the privileged or-
ders were not expected to be masters of every administrative brief, and
understandably they looked to the full-time officers for specialist advice.
They also possessed attributes of another type, namely the ability to move
comfortably at the very highest levels of the state and to gain access to the
king, influential courtiers and ministers. Taken together the élus and their
permanent officials formed an impressive team that in many ways mirrored
the organisation of the government in Versailles, and it was well equipped
to defend the interests of the Estates. When petitioning the ministry, the
governor and the élus were indispensable and they were not easily ignored,
while the permanent officers marshalled the evidence required to convince
the premiers commis or maı̂tres des requêtes to whom the king’s ministers
turned for advice. As an extra precaution, the Estates continued to pay
annual sums to ministers and commis alike, and to shower them with wine
and other gifts to encourage their good offices. Finally, the growth of the
provincial bureaucracy in Dijon and the modest professionalisation of its
activities had much in common with comparable institutions such as the
ferme générale providing further evidence of the continuing vitality of the
Estates.
The chamber of élus thus possessed immense authority, and although
historians continue to repeat the old cliché about the ‘all-powerful’ inten-
dant in Burgundy such an assertion is unfounded. The élus were respon-
sible for the overwhelming majority of fiscal and administrative tasks, and
it was their powers, not those of the intendant, that were expanding as
7 Bouchard, ‘Comptes borgnes’, 26, was particularly damning.

the period progressed. In his examination of the Estates during the reign of
Louis XIV, Thomas was scathing in his condemnation of the élus, criticising
just about every aspect of their administration.8 Examples of misconduct
are not hard to find. Roads were built for the benefit of individual élus,
there was favouritism in the distribution of the tax burden and the smell
of corruption hung around the auctioning of the rights to farm the octrois
or crues. While abuses were undoubtedly present, it is important to bear in
mind that the behaviour of the élus was consistent with that of most public
officials in the seventeenth century, including Louis XIV’s ministers. More-
over, there was some light in the gloom, and, urged on by the alcades and
the décrets of the Estates, general visits for reapportioning the taille were
conducted in 1690 and 1700, and through the appointment of an engineer
a start was made in systematising the administration of public works. To
their credit, the élus also joined the more general campaigns, involving the
governor, intendant and Parlement, to protect the province from the worst
effects of the terrible famines of the 1690s and 1709–10.
To provide a really rounded assessment of the Burgundian administra-
tion, it is, however, necessary to consider its activities after 1715, when a
more propitious combination of climatic, economic and political circum-
stances offered an opportunity for reform. Once again, the results were
mixed. Throughout the reign of Louis XV, the élus ignored the calls of the
alcades to conduct a general visit of the taille, and change, when it came,
was of a piecemeal nature. After 1774, the pace of reform accelerated and
some impressive measures were implemented, notably the decision of 1781
to assess the taille on the basis of a fixed number of feux. Unfortunately,
despite the efforts of both La Goutte and the alcades, nothing comparable
was achieved relative to either the capitation or the vingtièmes, and they
remained as glaring examples of inequality. The élus could, however, point
to some positive achievements. The road network constructed after 1730
was second to none, although that success was tarnished by the failure to
heed persistent calls for the reform of the corvée. When the Estates finally
became convinced of the need for canals they threw themselves into their
construction with all the fervour of converts. After numerous costly set-
backs, some progress was made in promoting agricultural improvement,
and the farm at Diénay seemed to have a bright future. The Estates had
also played a constructive role in the founding of the university of Dijon,
and during the reign of Louis XVI they had began to encourage a wide
variety of educational causes. Other examples could be added to this list,
8 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , passim.

Conclusion 409
but it is clear that the élus had acted in more dynamic and effective man-
ner than their counterparts in Artois or Brittany, and their administration
bears comparison with that of the more enlightened intendants in the pays
d’élections.
Indeed, once the difficult years of the interregnum of 1740–54 had been
negotiated, the intendant of Burgundy became an increasingly marginal
figure, and the administration of the élus flourished. By the reign of Louis
XVI, the provincial administration was richer in terms of power and au-
thority than at any time in its history, and it was rapidly accumulating
new responsibilities, such as the jurisdiction over the stud or the province’s
waterways. A similar process was occurring in the other pays d’états, and
Legay has argued that in the course of the eighteenth century the provincial
estates had been transformed into an arm of central government, replacing
the intendants in the process. As she describes matters, one of the advan-
tages for the crown lay in the fact that ‘the right of the Estates to administer
the people being better established than that of the intendants, the state
could more easily delegate to them unpopular missions peculiar to all cen-
tralisation’. No less important was the opportunity for the government to
transfer ‘heavy, but necessary expenses for the modernisation of the state’
to the provinces.9
Legay is certainly correct to insist upon the general compatibility of royal
and provincial interests, and, as we have seen, in terms of their aims and
objectives the work of the Burgundian élus did mirror that of the intendants
elsewhere. Her argument that the crown employed the provincial estates
to achieve its centralising objectives is more problematical. To argue that
the monarchy was single-mindedly pursuing a strategy of modernisation
and centralisation risks imposing the same kind of assumptions upon the
history of the eighteenth century that have already been found wanting
for the reign of Louis XIV. While greater central control was undoubtedly
an aspiration of many royal officials, they were also driven by more im-
mediate concerns. The monarchy was motivated by the need for money,
without which it would be impossible to pursue the military and diplo-
matic ambitions that were ultimately paramount. To gather those funds
it was necessary to be pragmatic, and the pays d’états had something that
the monarchy lacked, good credit. Moreover, in the case of Burgundy
especially, the fiscal and administrative system worked, and the crown
had no reason to meddle unduly in the affairs of the Estates. As a result,
the province preserved a real degree of autonomy, and, as the eighteenth
9 Legay, Les états provinciaux, pp. 516–17.

century progressed, that position was strengthened by the growing interest
in plans for revived provincial estates or new provincial assemblies.
Nor were the Estates of Burgundy simply a substitute for the intendants,
who were by their very nature tied to the world of Versailles, where most
hoped for promotion to the coveted office of conseillers d’état or even the
ministry. Several former intendants of Burgundy followed this path, and,
after Bouchu, few had strong family ties to the province, or remained in
the post for more than a decade. The élus and especially their permanent
officials were under no such constraints, and, as many were close to the
governor or expected to pursue long careers in the service of the Estates,
they were unlikely to share the perspective of the intendants. The relative
independence of the provincial administration meant that as new powers
were acquired the élus were able to act upon them as they saw fit, and
not necessarily as the crown intended. Nor should we forget that in most
instances the Estates were anxious to augment their own authority, and
actively campaigned for control of, for example, the royal stud, and the ju-
risdiction over the province’s waterways and road network. Once that had
been achieved they had considerable autonomy, not least because of their
control over how much was spent, and it was the élus or the Estates that
decided what roads should be built, rivers dredged or entrepreneurs sub-
sidised. If the crown’s decision to transfer more power to the provinces was
part of a centralising agenda, it could be far from certain that the results
would match its expectations.
Whatever the truth of the matter, it is clear that as the administra-
tive responsibilities of the élus increased, so too did their vulnerability to
the accusations of arbitrariness, even despotism, aimed at the intendants
in the pays d’élections.10 Their subsequent unpopularity was revealed in
stark terms by the quarrels with the Parlement of Dijon, especially the
infamous Varenne affair. Despite their own defence of fiscal privilege, the
parlementaires were not directly implicated in the collection of taxation. In-
stead, they exercised the painless right to protest in the name of the taxpayer
against the abonnements and other fiscal deals signed by the élus. The moral
high ground was a convenient vantage point from which to pursue the
Parlement’s unremitting campaign for the right to scrutinise the activities
of the chamber and to increase its own jurisdiction, notably over the long
disputed terrain of cotes d’office. These quarrels were an almost permanent
feature of the eighteenth century, and there was never any real likelihood
that the government would be confronted by a united provincial front
10 Here I am in full agreement with Legay.

Conclusion 411
against its fiscal demands. Instead, the rival corps battled amongst them-
selves about their respective rights and jurisdiction. In the course of these
disputes, both sides resorted to a variety of strategies, sending deputations
to Versailles, writing remonstrances and pamphlets and seeking to mobilise
popular support in Dijon. With brilliant avocats such as Varenne lining up
against magistrates of the calibre of Charles de Brosses, the quality of the
debate was high. Yet when it came to influencing the public there was only
one victor, and before 1788 the Parlement could bask content in the knowl-
edge that it had popular support. As for the élus, they could seek solace
in the fact that the crown would generally throw its weight behind their
cause, such was their importance to the provincial tax and credit structure.
By the 1780s, ‘our lords the élus’ were busily carrying out their ever
more extensive duties in a diligent and increasingly sophisticated way, and
no doubt many amongst them believed that they were acting according
to the finest contemporary principles of rationality and ‘bienfaisance’. Yet
they were giants with feet of clay because they lacked popular support or
a mandate, and as the issues of representation and equality came to the
fore after 1787 the Estates were suddenly vulnerable. At their last meeting
of November 1787, change was in the air and progress on reform of the
vingtièmes in particular was made. However, the third estate’s demands that
the privileged contribute towards the cost of projects of general utility was
rejected, a decision that a year later would make the nobility’s renunciation
of fiscal privilege seem deeply suspicious.
Once Louis XVI announced his intention to summon an Estates General,
Burgundy was swept up in the resulting political turmoil. The government’s
ill-judged request for assistance in determining how that body should meet
acted as a catalyst on thinking not only about representation at a national
level, but also about the future composition of the provincial estates. As
elsewhere, the principles advanced in Dauphiné, of doubled representation
for the third estate and voting by head, struck a chord with an influential
section of the bourgeoisie, which was soon campaigning for their adoption
in Burgundy. The noble opposition to these proposals was considerably less
intransigent than that experienced in either the Franche-Comté or Brittany,
and a series of reforms were proposed for future Estates, including the right
of veto to allay the fears of the third estate. Had the nobles who assembled
in Dijon in December 1788 and January 1789 been prepared to accept the
principle of voting by head in the event of deadlock, then it is possible
that a Burgundian voting model might have emerged to challenge that of
Dauphiné. It was not to be, and, amidst much recrimination, the nobles
and the third estate of Dijon divided in early January.
Despite their failure, the meetings held in Dijon revealed much about
the attitudes of the nobility and the bourgeoisie of the province towards
the provincial Estates, and their respective positions were reflected in the
elections for the Estates General and in the cahiers des doléances. For the
nobility, the aim was to restore the ancient constitution of the province
to its former glory by throwing off the shackles of ministerial despotism,
symbolised by the règlement of 1742, and by allowing free elections within
a reinvigorated Estates. As for the third estate, it rejected the myth of an
‘ancient constitution’ of Burgundy, preferring instead to borrow the new
voting model from Dauphiné. It was, of course, the inability to resolve
this issue that took precedence, but if we peruse the other demands of
the three orders relative to the provincial Estates there was much common
ground. There was almost unanimous agreement that the Estates should
be preserved and strengthened, with emphasis placed upon more regular
assemblies, free elections, increased scrutiny of the élus and their officers
and reform of the tax system. Even when we turn to the cahiers drafted
by the people of the countryside there is evidence of support for reformed
Estates. As for the élus and their administration, they were subject to fierce
criticism. Yet much of that hostility was of a rhetorical nature, and specific
examples of misconduct were less prevalent than an invitation to prepare
a list of grievances might lead us to expect. Ultimately, the majority of
Burgundians believed that the Estates and their élus whatever their faults
could be reformed. The revolution made these plans redundant, and once
the Constituent Assembly had unveiled its new local government structure
few tears were shed for the Estates which died unmourned, joining the
Parlement, Chambre des Comptes and so many other corps in the institu-
tional graveyard of the ancien régime.
Appendices
Appendix 1 Governors of Burgundy, 1661–1789

Louis II de Bourbon, prince de Condé (1660–70)
Henri-Jules de Bourbon, duc d’Enghien (prince de Condé, 1686–1709)
(1670–1709)
Louis III de Bourbon, prince de Condé (1709–10)
Louis-Henri de Bourbon (1710–40)
Paul-Hippolyte de Beauvilliers, duc de Saint-Aignan (1740–54)
Louis-Joseph de Bourbon, prince de Condé (1754–89)
Appendix 2 Intendants of Burgundy, 1661–1789

Claude Bouchu (1656–83)
Nicolas Auguste de Harlay de Bonneuil (1683–8)
Florent d’Argouges (1688–94)
Antoine François Ferrand (1694–1705)
Anne Pinon de Quincy (1705–10)
Charles Trudaine (1710–11)
Pierre Arnaud de La Briffe (1711–40)
François Dominique de Barberie de Saint-Contest (1740–9)
Jean-François Joly de Fleury (1749–60)
Jean-François Dufour de Villeneuve (1760–4)
Antoine Jean Amelot de Chaillou (1764–74)
Guillaume Joseph Dupleix de Baquencourt (1774–81)
Feydeau de Brou (1781–4)
Antoine-Léon Amelot de Chaillou (1784–9)
Appendix 3 Élus of the clergy, 1662–1790

1662 Louis Dony d’Attichy, bishop of Autun
Jean de Maupeou, bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône
(Appointed after the death of Dony d’Attichy)
1665 Charles Maurice Le Tellier, abbé of Saint Bénigne of Dijon
413
414 Appendices
1668 Jean Morelet, doyen of the collegiate church of Notre Dame of Beaune and
chanoine of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1671 Gabriel de Roquette, bishop of Autun
1674 Claude Fyot de La Marche, abbé of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1677 Abraham de Thésut, doyen of the collegiate church of Saint Georges of
Chalon-sur-Saône
1679 André Colbert, bishop of Auxerre
1682 Armand de Quincé, abbé of Notre Dame of La Bussière
1685 Charles Andrault de Langeron, abbé de Maulevrier, doyen of the collegiate
church of Saint Georges of Chalon-sur-Saône
1688 Henri Félix, bishop of Chalon-Sur-Saône
1691 Annet de Constin Dumanadan, abbé of Notre Dame of Fontenay
1694 Henry Emanuel de Roquette, doyen of the collegiate church of Saint
Lazare of Avallon, abbé of Reims
1697 Gabriel de Roquette, bishop of Autun
1700 Claude Fyot de la Marche, comte de Beaujean, abbé of Saint Étienne
of Dijon
1703 Jean-Baptiste LeGoux, doyen of the cathedral church of Chalon-sur-
Saône
1706 Charles Gabriel Daniel Thubière de Caylus, bishop of Auxerre
1709 Annet de Constin Dumanadan, abbé of Notre Dame of Fontenay
Claude Louis de Marion de Druy, abbé of Notre Dame of Rigny
(After the death of Constin Dumanadan in October 1709)
1712 Henri Emanuel de Roquette, doyen of the collegiate church of Saint Lazare
of Avallon, abbé of Reims
1715 Charles François Hallancourt de Dromenil, bishop of Autun
1718 Edme Mongin, abbé of Saint Martin of Autun
1721 Jean Bouhier, doyen of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1724 François de Madot, bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône
1727 Aimé François Gagne de Perrigny, abbé of Notre Dame of
Châtillon-sur-Seine
1730 Gaspard Moreau, doyen of the cathedral church of Auxerre
1733 Gaspard de Thomas de La Vallette, bishop of Autun
1736 Aimé François Gagne de Perrigny, abbé of Notre Dame of
Châtillon-sur-Seine
1739 Guillaume Perreney de Grosbois, doyen of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1742 François de Madot, bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône
1745 Dom Andoche Pernot, abbé général of Cı̂teaux
1748 Henri François de La Briffe, doyen of the Chapelle aux Riches of Dijon
Guillaume Perreney de Grosbois, doyen of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
(Succeeded on the death of La Briffe)
1751 Claude Bouhier, bishop of Dijon
1754 François Trouvé, abbé général of Cı̂teaux
1757 Guillaume Mathurin Dusert, doyen of the Chapelle aux Riches of Dijon
1760 Claude-Marc-Antoine d’Apchon, bishop of Dijon
Appendices 415
1763 Jean Marie DuChatel, abbé of Notre Dame of Rigny
1766 Philibert de La Mare, doyen of Notre Dame of Beaune
1769 Louis Henri de Rochefort d’Ailly, bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône
1772 Claude-François de Luzines, abbé of Saint-Seine
1775 Antoine de La Goutte, doyen of the cathedral church of Autun, vicar
general of Lyon
1778 Yves Alexandre de Marbeuf, bishop of Autun
1781 Claude-François de Luzines, abbé of Saint-Seine
1784 Louis-Henri, abbé de la Fare, doyen of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1787 Jean-Baptiste Duchilleau, bishop of Chalon-sur-Saône
Appendix 4 Élus of the nobility, 1662–1790

1662 Hérard Bouton, comte de Chamilly
1665 Hérard Bouton, comte de Chamilly
1668 Claude de Thyard, comte de Bissy
1671 Louis de Pernes, comte d’Epinac
1674 Philippe Andrault, comte de Langeron, baron de Vaux
1677 Pierre Du Ban, chevalier comte de La Feuillée
1679 Gabriel de Briord, marquis de Senozan, baron de la Salle
1682 Claude-Eléonor Damas, duc de Pont-de-Vaux, marquis de Thianges
1685 Charles de La Tournelle
1688 Joseph de Xaintrailles
1691 Gabriel de Briord, marquis de Senozan
1694 Gilbert de Gadagne d’Hostun, comte de Verdun
1697 François de Choiseul, comte de Chevigny
1700 Armand de Madaillan de Lesparre, marquis de Lassay
1703 Louis de Foudras, comte de Demigny
1706 Antoine-Roland de Sercey, seigneur d’Arconcey
1709 Georges-Anne-Louis de Pernes, comte d’Epinac
1712 Léon de Madaillan de Lesparre, comte de Lassay
1715 Claude de Thyard, comte de Bissy
1718 René-Constant, comte de Pons
1721 Louis de Vienne, baron de Châteauneuf
1724 Marie-Roger de Langheac, marquis de Coligny, seigneur de Chaseul
1727 Charles Henry de Saulx-Tavanes, marquis de Saulx
1730 Louis-Athanaze de Pescheperroux de Comminges, chevalier comte de
Guitaut
1733 Charles-Louis de Montsaulnin, comte du Montal
1736 Antoine-François de La Tournelle, seigneur de Cussy
Charles-Louis de Montsaulnin, comte du Montal (recalled after the death
of La Tournelle)
1739 Nicolas de Chaugy, comte de Roussillon
1742 Claude-Elizabeth, marquis de la Guiche
1745 Anne-Claude de Thyard, Marquis de Bissy
416 Appendices
1748 Louis-François de Damas, marquis D’Anlezy
1751 Charles-Marie-Gaspard de Saulx-Tavanes, comte de Saulx
1754 Étienne-Marie de Scorrailles
1757 Henri-Jules de Clermont, comte de Tonnerre
1760 Louis-Henri, comte de Vienne
1763 Philippe-Louis, marquis de Chastellux
1766 François-Louis-Antoine de Bourbon, comte de Busset
1769 Charles-François-Casimir de Saulx, comte de Tavanes
1772 Louis-Pierre de Jaucourt
1775 Jacques-François de Damas, marquis d’Antigny
1778 Edme Le Bascle, marquis d’Argenteuil
1781 Nicolas-Alexandre, vicomte de Virieu
1784 Georges-César, comte de Chastellux
1787 Louis-Antoine-Paul de Bourbon, vicomte de Bourbon-Busset
Appendix 5 Élus of the third estate, 1662–1790

1662 Jacques Grozelier, mayor of Beaune
1665 Pierre Bourguignet, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges
1668 Jacques Jannel, mayor of St-Jean de-Losne
1671 Benoı̂t Julien, mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône
1674 François Bretagne, mayor of Semur-en-Auxois
1677 Claude Lemulier, mayor of Montbard
1679 Georges de Guyon, lieutenant criminel of Avallon
1682 Nicolas Rielle, mayor of Châtillon-sur-Seine
1685 Pierre Barbier, mayor of Auxonne
1688 Buttard, mayor of Seurre
1691 Claude Billard, mayor of Auxerre
1694 Pierre Rabiot, mayor of Autun
1697 Simon Tribolet, mayor of Beaune
1700 Felix Sonnoys, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges
1703 Jacques de la Ramisse, mayor of Saint-Jean-de-Losne
1706 Antoine Noyrot, mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône
1709 Claude Lemulier, mayor of Semur-en-Auxois
1712 Henri Silvestre de la Forest, mayor of Montbard
1715 Claude Champion, mayor of Avallon
1718 Guy Jouard, mayor of Châtillon-sur-Seine
1721 Joseph de l’Estang, mayor of Auxonne
1724 Pierre Bretagne, mayor of Seurre
1727 Jean Baudesson, mayor of Auxerre
1730 Nicolas-Jean Barrault, mayor of Autun
1733 Pierre Gillet, mayor of Beaune
1736 Nicolas Pourcher, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges
1739 Pierre Martenne, mayor of Saint-Jean-de-Losne
1742 Louis-François Gauthier de Chamirey, mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône
1745 Jean-Baptiste Voisenet, mayor of Semur-en-Auxois
Appendices 417
1748 Edme Doublot, mayor of Montbard
1751 Antoine Champion, mayor of Avallon
1754 François Jouard, mayor of Châtillon-sur-Seine
1757 Jean-François de La Ramisse, mayor of Auxonne
1760 Claude Gouget Duval, mayor of Seurre
1763 Jean-Claude Baudesson, mayor of Auxerre
1766 Rouget, mayor of Bar-sur-Seine
1769 Benôit Jean de Gouvernain, mayor of Charolles
1772 Toussaint Roux, mayor of Autun
1775 Jean-François Maufoux, mayor of Beaune
1778 Jean-Baptiste Ligeret, mayor of Nuits-Saint-Georges
Étienne Gilles (after death of predecessor)
1781 Claude Martenne, mayor of Saint-Jean-de-Losne
1784 François Noirot, mayor of Chalon-sur-Saône
1787 Philibert-Hugues Gueneau d’Aumont, mayor of Semur-en-Auxois
Appendix 6 Vicomtes-mayeurs of Dijon, 1661–1790

1661–3 Jacques de Frasans
1662 Bénigne Boullier (after death of Frasans)
1663–4 Pierre Guillaume
1665–6 Bénigne Boullier
1666–9 Jean Joly
1670–1 Jean Cattin
1672–3 Bénigne Boullier
Pierre Monin (after death of Boullier)
1674–6 Benôit-Palamades Baudinot
1677–8 Pierre Monin
1679–80 Benôit-Palamades Baudinot
1681–3 Jean Joly
1684–6 Mathieu de Badier
1687–8 Jean Joly
1690–1 François Baudot
1692–3 Philibert Jeannon
De la Loge (after death of Jeannon)
1694–1703 François Baudot
1703–11 Julien Clopin
1711–14 Nicolas La Botte
1714–28 Étienne Baudinet
1729–31 Philippe Baudot
1731–49 Jean-Pierre Burteur
1750–62 Claude Marlot
1763–9 Nicolas-Claude Rousselot
1770–83 Guillaume Raviot
1784 Pierre François Gauthier
1784–9 Louis Moussier
418 Appendices
Appendix 7 Treasurer generals of the Estates of Burgundy, 1661–1790
Ancien Alternatif
Antoine Bossuet (1652–71) Thomas Berthier (1654–71)
Treasurer generals
François Bazin (1671–84)
Antoine Chartraire (1684–1709)
François Chartraire de Biere (1709–28)
Marc Antoine Chartraire de Montigny (1728–50)
Denis Claude Rigoley de Mypon (1750–2)
Claude-Jean Rigoley d’Ogny (1752–71)
Antoine Chartraire de Montigny (1771–90)
Appendix 8 Secrétaires des états of Burgundy, 1661–1790

Ancien Alternatif
Denis Rigoley (1661–72) Guillaume Despringle (1661–74)
Claude Rigoley (1672–1711) Benoı̂t Julien (1674–84)
Denis Claude Rigoley de Mypon Jacques Julien (1684–1725)
(1712–50)
Jacques Varenne (1750–61) Claude-Charles Bernard de Blancey
(1725–75)
Claude-Denis Rigoley de Puligny André Jean Bernard de Chanteau
(1761–9) (1775–85)
Nicolas-Claude Rousselot (1785–90) Balthazar Girard de la Brély
(1785–90)
Third office (1752–63)

Antoine Varenne de Béost and André Jean Bernard de Chanteau (1752–61)
Jacques Varenne (1761–3)
Office suppressed (December 1763)
Appendix 9 Procureurs syndics of the Estates of Burgundy,

1661–1790
Barthélemy Moreau (1640–65) Philippe de Requelyne ( –1673)
Pierre Durand (1665–91) Nicolas Guenichot (1673–91)
Étienne Baudinet (1691– ) Nicolas Guenichot fils, (1691–1706)
Appendices 419
Gabriel Danot (1698–1712) Jean Derey (1706–10)
Joseph Falanier (1712–21) Claude Mielle (1710–19)
Nicolas Perchet (1721–47) Jean Rouget (1719–50)
Jean-Bernard Perchet (1747–59) Pierre André de La Poix (1750–69)
Virot (1759–76) François Joseph Jacquinot (1769–90)
Phillipe Joseph Jarrin (1776–83)
Guillemot (1783–90)
Appendix 10 Conseils des états, 1661–1790

Claude Thiroux Philibert de La Marre Gabriel Guillaume
(1661–84) (–1675) (1660–1710)
Lazare Louis Thiroux Bernard Grusot (1675–83)
(1684–97)
Hubert Joseph Boillot Pierre Petit (1683–1712)
(1697–1730)
Guillaume Raviot François Boillot (1710– )
(1712–51)
Jacques Varenne Jean Bannelier Simon Ranfer (1757–89)
(1730–52) (1751–66)
Toussaint Ballier Jean-Marie Arnoult Nicolas Morisot (1789–90)
(1752–70) (1766–82)
Simon Virely André Remy Arnoult
(1770–90) (1782–90)
Appendix 11 Alcades of the clergy, 1668–1790

1668 Barthélemy Thiroux, chanoine of Saint Lazare of Autun
Antoine Sabatier, chanoine of the collegiate church of Avallon
1679 Louis de Thésut, chanoine of Saint Lazare of Autun
Louis François Bretagne, prieur of Notre Dame of Valcroissant
1682 Petit, chanoine of Saint Georges of Chalon-sur-Sâone
Jacques Boutault, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1685 Denis Danchement, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Cluesque, of Notre Dame of Autun
1688 Girard, chanoine of Saint Georges of Chalon-sur-Sâone
Buisson, chanoine of the Chapelle aux Riches of Dijon
1691 Ballard, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Rémond, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1694 Desplaces, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Corneau, prieur of Saint Jacques of Arnay-le-Duc
1697 André Loppin, chanoine of the collegiate church of Beaune
Louis Robinet, chanoine of the cathedral church of Auxerre
420 Appendices
1700 Denis Danchement, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
François de Tollede de Boissy, chanoine of the cathedral church of
Auxerre
1703 Bergerot, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
Louis François Bretagne, prieur of Notre Dame of Valcroissant
1706 Pierre Thibault, prieur of Saint Bénigne of Dijon
Bazin, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1709 Guillaume Feu, cathedral church of Auxerre
Philibert de la Souche, prieur of Anzy-le-Duc
1712 D’Allencourt de Boullainvilliers, chanoine of Notre Dame of Beaune
Robinet, chanoine of the Chapelle aux Riches of Dijon
1715 Blanchard, chanoine of Saint Georges of Chalon-sur-Saône
Tavault, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Auxerre
1718 Hay, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Auxerre
Jehannon, chanoine of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1721 Pasquier, chanoine of the cathedral church of Autun
Baudenet, prieur of Salmaise
1724 Boucher, chanoine of the cathedral church of Auxerre
Joly Valot, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1727 Guinot, chanoine of the collegiate church of Beaune
Carnot, of the collegiate church of Nuits-Saint-Georges
1730 M. de Maizières, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Carrelet, chanoine of Saint Étienne of Dijon
1733 M. de Chavanac, chanoine of the cathedral church of Auxerre
Baillyat, chanoine of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1736 Antoine Philippe de Chanrenault, chanoine of the Sainte Chapelle of
Dijon
Gilbert Edme de Simony, prieur of Latrecey[-Ormoy-sur-Aube]
1739 Germain Cazotte, chanoine of the collegiate church of Avallon
Claude Emonin, prieur of Saint Symphorien of Autun
1742 Abbé Prouvais, chanoine of the cathedral church of Chalon-sur-Saône
Abbé Barbuot, chanoine
1745 Abbé de la Goutte, chanoine of the cathedral church of Autun
Beuverand de la Loyere, chanoine of the cathedral of Chalon-sur-
Saône
1748 Abbé Fevret, chanoine of the cathedral church of Dijon
Abbé Donnadieu, prieur of Moutiers
1751 Abbé Espiard de La Cour, chanoine of the cathedral church of Dijon
Abbé Genreau, prieur of Notre Dame of Bonvaux
1754 Abbé de la Goutte, chanoine of the cathedral church of Autun
Dunoyer, chanoine of the cathedral church of Chalon-sur-Saône
1757 Develle, vicar general of the diocese of Autun
M. de Simony, chanoine of the Sainte Chapelle of Dijon
1760 Deplan [sic], chanoine, vicar general of the diocese of Autun
Desplasses, prieur de Perrigny
Appendices 421
1763 Abbé de la Goutte, prieur of Sainte Mognance
Tisserand, chanoine of the cathedral of Chalon-sur-Saône
1766 M. du Fourneau de Fremont, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Violet, prieur of Vassy
1769 M. de Bonnal, vicar general of the cathedral of Chalon-sur-Saône
Develle, prieur of Saint Laurent d’Hauteville
1772 Hemey, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Vautier, chanoine of Auxerre
1775 Develle, prieur of Saint Laurent d’Hauteville
M. de la Goutte, prieur of Perrigny-sur-Loire
1778 Quarré de Monay, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Frappier, chanoine of the cathedral of Auxerre
1781 Pinot, prevot of the collegiate church of Autun
Perretton, prieur of Saint-Laurent-lès-Chalons
1784 Le Maistre, prieur of Perrigny-sur-Loire
Joly, chanoine of the cathedral church of Dijon
1787 Abbé de Grandchamp, chanoine of the cathedral of Autun
Abbé Clergier, prieur of Duesme
Appendix 12 Alcades of the nobility, 1662–1790

1662 Jacques de Thyard
Antoine de Chaugy
1665 Daniel de Chatenay
Antoine Damas
1668 Charles de Naturel
Charles de La Riviere
1671 M. de Longueville
Georges-Bénigne, comte de Trestondan
1674 Jacques de Chaugy
Michel Bataille
1677 Lazare de Croisier
Charles de Clugny
1679 Claude de Carbonnet
Louis de Foudras
1682 Hector-François d’Aullenay, seigneur d’Arcy
Antoine de Cléron-Saffres
1685 Louis de Clugny, comte de Grignon
Pierre de Chargère du Breuil
1688 Gabriel du Montet
Philibert de Croisier, fils
1691 Hugues de Mathieu
Philippe Berbis
1694 Henri de Masset
Louis de Clugny
422 Appendices
1697 Prudent Tabourot (substitute for Jean de Thésut de Ragy)
Éleonor de Choiseul-Traves
1700 Guy Bernard de Montessus, comte de Rully
Elie de Jaucourt, sgnr de Chazelle
1703 Charles de Clugny
Claude-Marc de Fautrières
1706 René de Drée
Gabriel-Hector de Cullon
1709 Louis de Vienne
François de Clugny
1712 Phillipe de Cronambourg
Claude de Fautrières
1715 Comte de Bissy
Jacques de la Cousse d’Arcelot
1718 Hugues Dubois, seigneur de Rochette et de Masoncle
Hyacinthe de Berthet
1721 Louis-Victor Marlout
Louis de Vienne
1724 Jean-Bernard de la Marre
Jacques Comeau
1727 Antoine Morisot de Jancigny
Charles Févret
1730 M. de Massol, seigneur de Montmoyen
Antoine-François de La Tournelle
1733 Antoine Dubois de la Rochette, fils
Philibert-Joseph de La Fage de Péronne, fils
1736 Claude-Joseph de Frasans
Jean-François Petit
1739 Nicolas de Ganay
Jacques, comte de Brancion
1742 Jean de Fromagère
Pierre-François de Frasans
1745 Joseph-André de Bretagne
Paul-Charles du Crest
1748 Claude-Joseph de Frasans
Jean-Claude de La Salle
1751 Jean-Baptiste Fleutelot de Chazan
Alexandre Humbelot de Villiers
1754 Antoine-Palatin de Beugre
Étienne-Marie Champion, seigneur de Nant-sous-Thil
1757 Jean-Baptiste Catin de Richemont
Gabriel-Hector de Cullon, comte d’Arcy
1760 Claude-François de Maritain
Pierre-Marie de Naturel
1763 Claude-Joseph de Frasans d’Avirey
Félix de Simony
Appendices 423
1766 Melchior Comeau de Pont-de-Veaux
Raymond de Thésut
1769 Gaspard-Pontus de Thyard
Pierre-François-Hubert de Chastenay
1772 Louis de Cullon, comte d’Arcy
Charles-Antoine Raguet de Brancion
1775 Claude-Philibert Bernard de la Vernette
Guy-Louis Guenichon de Quemigny
1778 Jean-Baptiste-Théodore de Folin
Pierre-Marie-Thérèse Dormy de Vesvre
1781 Marie-François-Jérome du Raquet de Montjay
Antoine-François-Henri de Damas-Crux
1784 François de Fresne
François-Louis de Cullon, chevalier d’Arcy
1787 Ferdinand-Alphonse-Honoré, marquis de Digoine
Marquis de La Garde-Chambonas
Appendix 13 Alcades of the third estate 1668–1790

Town/Comté
1668 Claude Le Mulier Semur-en-Auxois
Étienne Mignot Noyers
Claude Billard Auxerre
1679 Claude de la Ramisse Auxonne
Claude Galochet Taland
Antoine de Montranbault Toulon
1682 Benoı̂t Noirot Seurre
Jacques Boudye Mirebeau
François Sauvageot Tournus
1685 Claude Billaud Auxerre
Jean Jacquet Marcigny
Pierre Mallevoix Bar-sur-Seine
1688 Lazare Rabyot Autun
Jean Jacquet Paray-le-Monial
Jacques Genalois Bourbon-Lancy
1691 Philibert de la Maure Beaune
Jean de la Motte Semur-en-Brionnais
Antoine Magnien Mâconnais
1694 Félix Sonnoys Nuit-Saint-Georges
Alexandre de Repas Viteaux
Richard le Breton Bar-sur-Seine
1697 Christophe Pirée échevin Saint-Jean-de-Losne
(substitute for deceased mayor Charpy)
Gilbert Bonncaut Montcenis
Thomas Saulnier Charolais
424 Appendices
1700 Antoine Noyrot Chalon-sur-Saône
Antoine Duerot Verdun
Marcel Chaillot Mâconnais
1703 Michel Potet Semur-en-Auxois
Jean-Baptiste Nicolle Arnay-le-Duc
Richard Breton Bar-sur-Seine
1706 Jean Nadault Montbard
Pierre de Selle Noyers
Philibert Seurre Charolais
1709 Claude Champion Avallon
Michel Deuville Saulieu
Eustache Chanorier Mâconnais
1712 Guy Jouard Châtillon-sur-Seine
Jean Clerc Flavigny
François Boudey Bar-sur-Seine
1715 Joseph de l’Éstang Auxonne
Étienne Lazare de Reigny Montréal
Jean-Baptiste Geoffroy Charolais
1718 Pierre Bretagne Seurre
Pierre Gilbert Talant
Claude Compagnot Mâconnais
1721 Jean Baudesson Auxerre
Guillaume Giraley Mirebeau
François Boudey Bar-sur-Seine
1724 Nicolas Jean Baraut Autun
Marcigny
François Pernet Charolais
1727 Pierre Gillet Beaune
Antoine Gay Bourbon-Lancy
Hugues Foillard Mâconnais
1730 Nicolas Pourcher Nuits-Saints-Georges
Jean-Baptiste Cudel Semur-en-Brionnais
Thourant Charolais
1733 Pierre Martenne Saint-Jean-de-Losne
Philibert Chailloux Mâconnais
1736 Louis François Gauthier Chalon-sur-Saône
Léonard Giraud Montcenis
Thomas Saulnier Charolais
1739 François Nicolas Voisenet Semur-en-Auxois
Claude Sauvage Saint Laurent-lès-Chalon
Claude Rhéty Mâconnais
1742 Doublot Montbard
Moret Arnay-le-Duc
Fevre Charolais
Appendices 425
1745 Claude Antoine Champion Avallon
André Boyer Noyers
Guy Compagnot Mâconnais
1748 Joseph François Jouard Châtillon-sur-Seine
Jacques Dareau Saulieu
Pierre François Saulnier de la Noue Charolais
1751 Jean de la Ramisse Auxonne
Le Clerc Flavigny
Philibert Vaillon Mâconnais
1754 Gouges Duval Seurre
Pierre Bethey Montréal
Antoine Gueneau Talant
1757 Jean-Claude Baudesson Auxerre
Jean Dumay Mirebeau
Jean-Baptiste Rhéty Mâconnais
1760 Le Texier Bar-sur-Seine
Gay Bourbon-Lancy
Baudesset Viteau
1763 Saulnier de la Noue Charolais
Venot Montcenis
Louis Baudot Mâconnais
1766 Toussaint Roux Autun
Ressort Arnay-le-Duc
Debrange Louhans
1769 Jean-François Maufoux Beaune
Ressort Arnay-le-Duc
1772 Jean-Baptiste Ligeret Nuits-Saint-Georges
Boyer Noyers
Daugy Mâconnais
1775 Claude Martenne Saint-Jean-de-Losne
Feuchot Saulieu
Gautherin Flavigny
1778 François Noirot Chalon-sur-Saône
Villebichot Talant
Philippot Montréal
1781 Gueneau Semur-en-Auxois
Du May Mirebeau
M. de Laval Tournus Mâconnais
1784 Daubenton Montbard
Montillet Marcigny
Gay Bourbon-Lancy
1787 Champion Avallon
Cudel Semur-en-Brionnais
Siringuet Viteau
426 Appendices
Appendix 14 Receivers of the taille in Burgundy, 1661–1789
Dijon
Ancien Alternatif Triennial
Pierre Mille ( –1668) Pierre Mille (1662–8)
Philippe Loyson Claude Jannon (1679–91) Philippe Loyson
(1668–96) (1668–96)
Antoine Midan Jean-Baptiste Jannon
(1696–1730) (1691–1702)
Nicolas Seguin∗ (1702–52)
Pierre Seguin de La Motte
(1752–82)
Jean Édouard Cousin, père
(1782–9)
∗
From 1730, the commission of receiver was held by a single individual.
Nuits-Saint-George
Jean Belin (1653–79)
François Bays (1679–94)
Edme Lamy (1694–1731)
Edme Seguin (1731–53)
Edme Fabry (1753–80)
Bernard Mollerat (1780–8)
Mathieu Mollerat (1788–9)
Beaune
Hugues Guyard (1659–72)
Marc Bourée (1672–95)
Lazare David de Beaufort (1695–1727)
Joseph David de Beaufort (1727–40)
Antide David de Beaufort (1740–53)
Étienne David de Beaufort (1753– )
Chalon-sur-Saône
Ancien Alternatif
Nicolas Petit (1660– ) Jacques Burgat ( –1690)
Single receivership (1679–1789)
Jacques Burgat (1679–90)
Appendices 427
Jean Burgat (1690–1712)
Jean Burgat, fils (1712–49)
Claude Burgat de Taisé (1749–51)
Claude Petit (1751–64)
Jean Burgat de Taisé (1764–86)
François Noirot (1786–9)
Autun
Pierre Blanchet ( –1690) Jacques Ballard ( –1686) Simon Bussot ( –1679)
Charles Blanchet Pierre Ballard (1686–1707) Georges Bussot
(1690–1712) (1679–1702)
Jean Pernot (1707–1712) Gabriel Bussot (1703–9)
Andre Cheval de Fontenay
(1709–12)
Single receivership (1712–89)∗
Andre Cheval de Fontenay (1712–39)
Lazare de Fontenay (1739–62)
Anne Paul de Fontenay (1762–70)
Marc Antoine Charles de Fontenay (1770– )
Semur-en-Brionnais
Antoine LaMotte (1639–88)
Philibert Dupuis (1688–1704) and Jean Courtin∗ (1688–1701)
François Descombes (1701–14)
Philibert Dupuis des Falcons (1714–15)
Jean Perrin (1715–41)
François Perrin de Precy (1741–8)
Claude Perrin d’Arroux (1748–53)
Jean Perrin de Precy (1753– )
∗
Held jointly
Semur-en-Auxois
Ancien Alternatif
Le Boeuf ( –1666) Jean Minard (1631–1662)
Claude Minard (1662–6)
428 Appendices
Claude Forestier (1666– )
Jacques Manin (1691–1715) and Guy Salier ( –1702)
Pierre Simon (commis) (1702– )
Denis Champeaux (1716– )
Denis Champeaux de Saucy (1758–71)
Dennis Augustin Champeaux d’Avirey (1771– )
Arnay-le-Duc
Claude Grillot Philibert Thibert Philibert Thibert
(1661– ) (1661–1701) (1661–1701)
Charles Languet (1701–42)
Claude-Charles Languet de Livry (1742–77)
Hubert Charles Philippe Languet (1777– )
Avallon
Charles Couchet ( –1684)
Prix Deschamps (1684–1708)
Joseph Deschamps (1708–52)
Joseph-Guillaume-Augustin Deschamps de Charmelieu (1752–84)
Joseph Deschamps de Saint-Brix (1784–9)
Châtillon-sur-Seine (la Montagne)

Henry Rémond (1667– )
Daniel Rémond d’Etrochey (1680–1719)
Claude Henry Rémond de Couchy (1719–24)
Daniel Rémond d’Etrochey (1724–9)
Joseph François Rémond (1729–55)
Étienne Thomas Marlot (1755–66)
Commis Pierre D’Autecloche (1755–60)
Jean de Charolles (1766–73)
Étienne de Charolles (1773–84)
Bernard Fabry (1784– )
Auxonne
François Suremain (1639– )
Jean-Baptiste Suremain (1686–1723)
Appendices 429
Hugues Suremain de Flamerans (1723–63)
Hugues Claude Suremain de Flamerans (1763–5)
Daniel Louis Fidel Amand Bocquillon (1765–78)
Collenot (1778–88)
Louis-René-Fidel-Armand Bocquillon (1789)
St Laurent-lès-Chalon
Antoine and Guillaume de La Croix (1644–68)
Guillaume Petit (1668–79)
Claude Petit (1679–1727)
Claude Petit, fils (1728–73)
Louis Marie Poncet (1773–89)
Auxerre
Jean Deschamps (1684–1708)
Joseph Deschamps (1713–52)
Joseph-Guillaume-Augustin Deschamps de Charmelieu (1752–84)
Guillaume Gaspard Sapey (1784–9)
Bar-sur-Seine
Nicolas Baudot (1641–74)
François Bailly (1674–1706)
Charles Bailly (1706–8)
Nicolas Seguin (1708–14)
Jean Moreau (1714–26)
Belin (1726–7)
Antoine Vautier (1727–51)
Gabriel Vautier (1751–78)
Claude Bernard Vautier (1778–89)
Charolais (1751–89)
Adrien Claude Perrin de Gregaine (1745–52)
Antoine Gouvillier (1752–82)
Jean-François-Claude Gouvillier (1782–9)
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Index
abonnement(s) 140, 175–7, 183–4, 192, 204, Antoine, Michel 5–6

242–3, 252, 267–70, 275–6, 285–6, 302–11, Arbilly, Marie 343
316, 328, 337, 339, 370, 395, 403, 405, 410–11 Arcelot, Jacques de La Cousse d’ 122
absolutism 2–3, 7–19 Arc-en-Barois 75
classic model of 2–4 Arc-sur-Thil 198
revisionist historiography of 7–19, 23, 155, Ardascheff, Pierre 4, 330
173–4 Argenson, Pierre-Marc de Voyer de Paulmy,
Marxist historiography of 15–16 comte d’ 347
Academy of Dijon 39, 40, 362 Argenson, René de Voyer de Paulmy,
agricultural societies 271, 351 marquis d’ 20, 233
Aignay-le-Duc 387 Argenteuil, Edme Le Bascle, marquis d’ 383
Aiguillon, Emanuel Armand de Vignerod du Argouges, Florent d’ 48, 207, 210–11
Plessis de Richelieu, duc d’ 263 Arnay-le-Duc 27, 148, 339
alcades 53, 54, 67, 73, 81–2, 101, 130, 141, 167, 200, Arnoult, André Remy 38, 119
228, 244, 278, 293, 320–2, 325–6, 337–9, arrière ban 69
372, 373, 381–2, 386, 391, 398 Arroux, river 144, 347
and reform 201–2, 204, 212, 215, 235, 245, 251, artisans 33
326, 332–3, 337, 338, 343–5, 353, 359, 363, village artisans 35
406, 408 Artois 27, 162, 363, 409
censored remarques 234–6, 259, 261, 332, 340, Assembly of Communities (Provence) 21
369–70, 376, 382 Assembly of Notables (of 1787) 96, 310, 365, 371
election of 122 ateliers de charité 360–1
of the clergy 60 Atlantic 36
role of 120, 122–4 Auget de Monthyon, Antoine Jean-Baptiste
social status of 120–2 Robert 330
their remarques 53, 81–3, 120–4, 133, 166–7, augmentation des gages 18
178–82, 187, 194, 206, 228–9, 248, 258, Autun 27, 30, 31, 38, 55, 57, 61–3, 74, 86, 100,
296–7, 299, 323–4, 341, 355, 372, 401–2 117, 145, 205, 223, 227–8, 251, 288–9,
Alps, the 26, 30 391–3, 397
Amanzé, Louis comte d’ 86 Autunois 30, 38, 225, 393
Amelot de Chaillou, Antoine Jean 49, 51, 145, Auvergne 2
241, 245–6, 255, 256, 356 Auxerre 27, 28, 30, 31, 54, 57, 62, 75, 85, 95, 99,
Amelot de Chaillou, Antoine-Léon 30, 49–50, 147, 152, 209, 212, 221, 251, 282, 319
401 Auxerrois 30, 39, 62, 71, 75
Andrault de Longeron, Charles 94 Auxois (see also Semur-en-Auxois) 27, 30, 38,
Angivillier, Charles-Claude de la Billarderie, 222, 392, 394
comte d’ 356 Auxonne 27, 29, 31, 37, 38, 75, 99, 147, 179,
Anlezy, Louis-François de Damas, marquis d’ 133 216–17, 226–7, 244, 347, 353, 387
Anne of Austria 3 Avallon 27, 31, 99, 121, 147, 387
Antigny, Jacques François Damas, avocat au conseil (of the Estates of Burgundy)
marquis d’ 249, 256 119, 236
447
448 Index
avocat général (of the Parlement of Dijon) 48 Bordeaux 31, 36
avocats 99, 104, 110, 116, 117, 119, 277, 377–80, Bordes, Maurice 330
383–4, 388, 389, 411 Bossenga, Gail 17
Bossuet, Antoine 106, 117
Baigneux 85 Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, bishop 39, 106
Bailly, Charles 203 Bouchard, G. 91–2
Balnot-le-Chatel 393 Bouchard, M. 89
Bannelier, Jean 119 Bouchu, family 190
Barbier, Pierre 217 Bouchu, Claude 47–8, 162, 237, 410
Bar-sur-Seine 27, 28, 42, 57, 195–6, 203, Boufflers, maréchal de 218
216, 232, 242, 251, 282, 292, 319, 392–3, Bouhier, family 32, 104, 108, 190
395 Bouhier, Jean 39, 270
Bart, Jean 70 Bouhier de Versalieux 289
Basire, Claude 144 Boullemier, abbé 283–4
Bastille, the 277, 283, 327 Boullier, Bénigne 103
Baudesson, family 99, 151 Boulonnais 202
Baudinot, Bénigne-Palamades 104 Bourbince, river 220
Baudinot, Étienne 104, 146 Bourbon, Louis de 99
Baudot, François 103–4, 199 Bourbon, duc de, Louis-Henri de
Baudot, Phillipe 104 Bourbon-Condé 43, 48, 50, 54, 84, 87, 94,
Baüyn, family 114 97, 98, 108, 231, 234, 236, 260, 264, 303,
Baüyn, Prosper 198 328, 406
Bazin, François 106–8, 205 as governor of Burgundy 44–5, 80, 117, 173,
Beaune 27, 29–31, 38, 39, 74, 85, 100, 145, 147, 177, 204, 205, 217, 219, 230, 232–3, 244,
223, 225, 249, 336 299, 316, 340
Beaurepaire, Jeanne Louise Denise de 70 character of 231–2
Béguin, Katia 10, 43, 108 distribution of patronage 100–1, 104, 108, 145,
Beik, William 11, 15, 16 149, 271
and government of Languedoc 12, 14–15, 22, Bourbon-Busset, family 98
220, 262 Bourbon-Busset, Louis Antoine Paul de
Benoı̂t, Jean 347–8 Bourbon, vicomte de 129, 401
Berbisey, family 32, 104 Bourbon-Lancy 347, 391, 397
Bercé, Yves-Marie 7 Bourbonnais 28
Bernard, Jean 110 Bourg-en-Bresse 270, 348
Bernard de Blancey, Claude-Charles 110, 152–3, bourgeoisie 33–5, 375, 377, 379, 393, 411–12
275, 288, 350 rural bourgeoisie 35
Bernard de Chanteau, André Jean 110, 116 Bourgogne, Louis duc de, dauphin 29, 136
Bernis, François-Joachim de Pierre, cardinal de Braine, avocat 293, 374
96 Bresse 27, 46, 47, 49, 97, 111, 224
Berry 366, 382 Bretagne, family 121
Bertier, Thomas 106–7, 110 Breteuil, Louis-Auguste Le Tonnelier,
Bertier de Sauvigny, Louis Jean 251, 336 baron de 247
Bertin, Henri Léonard 267, 270, 282, 284, Briailles, comte de 71
313–14, 346, 354–5 Brie 38
Besançon 29, 280 Brionnais 30, 38, 227
Bien, David 17, 18 Briord, Gabriel de 69, 97, 224
Billioud, Joseph 63 Brittany 1, 11, 15, 20–2, 27, 34, 67, 162, 202,
Billy 29 261–3, 278, 304, 315, 363–4, 374–5, 380, 388,
Bluche, François 7 398, 402–4, 409, 411
Bocquillon, Daniel Louis Fidel Amand Brittany affair, the 263, 280
244–6 Brosses, Charles de 39, 271, 285–6, 294, 411
Boillot, François 118 Brulart, Nicolas 173, 266
Boillot, Hubert-Joseph 117, 118 Buffon, Georges-Louis Leclerc de 37, 353
Boisguilbert, Pierre le Pesant de 176 Bugey 27, 49, 97
Bonney, Richard 13, 17 Buisson, Louis 282
Index 449
Bureau des Finances (of Dijon) 54, 55, 103–4, Chambre des Comptes of Dijon 27, 32, 54, 69, 85,
191, 239–40 93, 104, 105, 112, 113, 116, 127, 147–9, 180,
Burgat, family 147, 150 190–1, 197, 211, 223, 237, 238, 263, 303–5,
Burgundy 1, 2, 10, 20, 21, 24, 26–30, 40, 379, 387, 404, 412
53, 69, 70, 78, 95–6, 107, 114, 155, critics of 203, 210, 259, 369, 382, 391
162, 164, 170, 178, 202, 219, 231, Chamillart, Michel 171–3, 212, 219
246, 255, 280, 282, 302, 306, 312, Chamilly, Bouton, Hérard comte de 97, 159
331, 336, 341, 346, 349, 352, 375, 400, Champagne 28, 37, 213, 222, 342, 358, 393
404, 411–12 Champion, family 99
administrative structure of 27, 43, 50–1, 57, Champion, Claude 121
144, 230, 263 Champrenault 394
agriculture 29–30, 37–8, 222–3 Chanceaux 29, 54
cattle and livestock 30, 37, 38 Chantilly 43, 44, 48, 95, 104, 108, 109, 118, 119,
cultural life 39–40 125, 148, 230, 250
economic development 35–9, 221 Chapeaurouge, conseiller d’état of Geneva 326
geography 28–30, 220 Charenton 356
population of 30–1 Charles II (of Spain) 154
trade and commerce 29, 37, 357–60 Charles V 26
viticulture 29–30, 33, 37–9, 171, 222, Charles le Téméraire, duke of Burgundy 26, 41
357–60 Charolais 30, 38, 195, 202, 225, 227
Butard, élu and mayor of Seurre 210 Charolais, Charles de Bourbon-Condé, comte
de 233
Cabrol, Jean 207–8 Charolles 27, 28, 42, 57, 67, 75, 86, 144, 146, 160,
cahiers de doléances 75, 367, 412 225, 245, 267, 387
of Bourbon-Lancy 393 Charolles, Étienne de 150
of Dijon 392–3 Chartraire, family 43, 106–9, 112–15, 118, 190–1,
of the clergy of Burgundy 390–1 203, 247
of the nobility of Burgundy 391–2 Chartraire, Antoine 106, 108
of the third estate of Burgundy 392–8 Chartraire, François 108
rural cahiers 393–5 Chartraire de Montigny, Antoine 107, 113, 249
Calonne, Charles-Alexandre de 341, 344, 358, Chartraire de Montigny, Marc Antoine 100, 106,
366 108, 112, 113, 232, 326
Caloux, Pierre 218 Chartraire de Mypon, François 206
Campbell, Peter 7, 8 Chartraire de Saint-Aignan, Anne-Madeleine
canal building 138, 220–1, 345–7 112
Canal de Bourgogne 345, 346 Chartraire de Saint-Aignan, Guy 108
Canal de Franche-Comté 345 Chastenay, marquis de 66, 153
Canal du Centre 120, 345–6, 349 Chastenay, Mlle de 152–3
Canal du Midi 15, 220, 345 Chastenay, vicomte de 380, 382–5
capitation 49, 70–1, 107, 140, 154, 174–5, Chastellux, Georges-César comte de 133
177, 181–4, 195, 204, 206, 267–8, 275, Châteaubriand, René de 64
302–5, 313, 322–3, 335–7, 339, 344, 373, Châteauneuf, marquis de 86, 201, 211
405, 408 Châtillon-sur-Seine 27, 28, 31, 99, 121, 150, 152,
carnet des ratifications 83 202–3, 211, 332, 391
Carrelet, Antoine 114, 238, 239 Châtillonnais 30
Catherine de Medici 110 Chaulnes, Charles d’Albert d’Ailly, duc de 10
Catholic Church 4, 18, 174, 295, 305 Chaussinand-Nogaret, Guy 7
General Assembly of the French church 62, Cheval de Fontenay, André 227–8
96, 310 Chevignard, Théodore 100
Catholic league 41 Choiseul, Étienne François duc de 52, 316–18,
Chalon-sur-Saône 27, 29, 31, 38, 48, 55, 57, 62, 349
74, 86, 94, 99, 148, 150, 179, 207, 212, 218, Choiseul-Chevigny, François comte de 98, 108,
226, 251, 345, 353 190, 211, 224
Chalonnais 29, 200, 207, 227 Clautrier, Gilbert 114
Chamber of Justice 148, 244 Clément de Feillet, Ambroise-Julien 284, 285
450 Index
clergy (see also Catholic Church) 35, 40, 53, 55, Condé, Louis-Joseph, prince de 45, 52, 94, 97–8,
57–9, 67, 68, 96, 305, 365, 370, 371, 376, 116, 133, 153, 230, 233, 268, 290, 306, 308,
404, 407 314, 382, 400
abbés 57, 59, 60, 62, 63, 201, 371 as governor 45, 50, 52–3, 59, 88, 104–5, 108,
abbés généraux of Cı̂teaux 62–3, 84, 120 119, 125, 231, 239–43, 249–50, 255, 260, 284,
bishops 48, 49, 51, 54, 55, 57, 59–64, 77–9, 88, 287, 307, 317–18, 361–2, 390, 403
89, 93–6, 99, 110, 115, 118, 120, 124, 127, 146, entry in Dijon 54
168, 190, 207, 211, 221, 224, 242, 311, 317, management of the Estates 52, 78, 257,
371, 390–1 259–61, 288–90, 309–10, 315, 371–2, 374
revolt of the curés 389–91 patronage of 236, 247–8, 271
village curés 35, 75, 362, 386 conseillers d’état 410
clientèle 9–12, 15, 23, 25 conseils des états (of the Estates of Burgundy) 63,
Clugny de Nuits, Jean-Étienne Bernard de 51, 255 81, 106, 113, 116–19, 126, 332
coastal militia 78, 313–15 their remarques 81–2, 117, 194, 199, 223
Colbert, family 8 Constituent Assembly 38, 400, 412
Colbert André 59, 95 Conti, Armand prince de 93, 200
Colbert, Jean-Baptiste 6, 11, 12, 92, 95, 135–6, contrainte solidaire 34
157–9, 162, 164, 169, 192, 213, 220–2, 237–8, contrôleur général, office of 5, 48–51, 78, 79, 87,
311, 345, 347, 403 114, 171, 188, 210, 214–15, 224, 239, 243, 318,
Colbert, Nicolas 59 324, 341, 363, 396
Collenot, receiver of the taille 246 Corley, Christopher 264
Collins, James 15, 23, 262 corporations 47, 385–7
Combourg 64 Cortot 293, 382
commandants 55, 67, 78, 87, 113 corvée 145, 152, 336, 341–5, 364, 372, 396, 397, 408
Committee of General Security 144 cotes d’office 197–9, 265–7, 270, 276, 281–3,
Condé, Bourbon-Condé family 10, 39, 50, 285–6, 288, 292–3, 410
65, 66, 79, 87, 92, 107, 113, 115, 146, 280, popular criticisms of 395–7
382 Couches 227, 393
agents in Burgundy 43–4, 94 councils, royal 2, 5, 116–17, 124, 136–7, 199,
and voyage of honour 135–7 254–6, 266, 287
as governors of Burgundy 43–6, 231, 233 Cour des Aides of Paris 27, 91, 289, 319
attitude to intendant 47–8 disputes with Estates 282–8, 292
authority over Estates 59, 66–7, 81, 89, 148, Courtépée, abbé 38, 55, 362
178, 236 Crébillon, Prosper 39
household of 87, 94, 97–8, 107, 113, 404 Créqui, marquis de 380–2
opening of Estates 55–7 crime 33
patronage and clientèle of 43, 47, 66, 92–5, Croissy, marquise de 190
97–8, 100, 104–5, 108, 112, 116, 118, 121–2, crues (salt tax) 148, 161, 163, 164, 168, 180, 185–8,
125, 143, 236, 237, 403, 407 192, 204, 206–8, 235, 297–8, 300, 304, 318,
voyage to Burgundy 54 320–1, 325, 328, 373, 383, 405, 408
Condé, Henri-Jules de Bourbon, prince de 44–5, Cuiseau 63
145, 227, 232 Cuisery 63
and assemblies of the estates 53, 62, 162, 164
and voyage of honour 135–6 Damas, family 32
as governor of Burgundy 44–5, 111–12, 168–9, Dauphiné 21, 110, 366, 374–5, 378, 380, 388, 393,
172–3, 175, 187, 200, 207–9, 211–12, 217–19, 398, 411–12
223, 225–6 David, family 147–8
character of 44 day labourers 35
patronage of 94–5, 97, 98, 190 Dent, Julian 11
relations with intendant 47–8 dépots de mendicité 360–1
Condé, Louis II, prince de (Grand Condé) 3, 48, Deschamps, family 147
93–4, 97, 112, 213, 403 Deschamps de Charmelieu,
and assemblies of the Estates 158–62, 221 Joseph-Guillaume-Augustin 147
as governor 44, 107–8, 156–7, 238 Desmarets, Nicolas 175–7, 183, 188, 201, 322, 328
Condé, Louis III, prince de 44, 121, 188, 227 Despringle, Guillaume 110
Index 451
Dheune, river 220 edict of Nantes 15
Didier, mayor of Saint-Seine 146 Éffiat, marquis d’ 42
Diénay 355–6, 364, 408–9 élu du roi 93, 102–3, 114, 126–7, 230, 232, 237–40,
Digoin 345 260, 406
Digoine, marquis de 293 élus (of the Estates of Burgundy) 45, 46, 48, 49,
Dijon 27, 28, 32, 33, 42, 43, 49, 54, 58, 65, 72, 74, 54, 67, 77, 81–2, 85–6, 89, 102–3, 105,
75, 79, 82, 86, 91, 96, 97, 104, 108, 109, 113, 108–10, 113, 115, 120, 163, 166, 209, 255, 260,
116, 119, 121, 123, 126, 128, 130–1, 135, 137, 263, 283, 371, 377, 392, 398, 404
138, 145–9, 153, 158, 165, 188, 195, 197, 201, administration of the corvée 343–5
203, 205, 210, 212, 218, 223, 233–5, 242, 249, administration of military étapes 213–18, 347–9
251, 260, 268–70, 302, 325, 333, 338, 345, alleged corruption of 200–1, 207, 210–11, 228,
347, 348, 355 408
and assemblies of the Estates 52–4, 80, 156, and agricultural reform 351–7
227, 288, 371 and canals and waterways 345–7
and Parlement of 275, 279–82, 290 and economic development 356–60
and the pre-revolution 375–80, 384–9, 391–3, and institutional rivalries 242–3
411–12 and mayors 100, 111, 144–6, 178, 241–2, 404
economy of 36, 38, 214, 353, 358 and patronage of the Condé 92–5, 97–8, 105,
establishment of bishopric 58, 62 118
city council of 224 and permanent officers of the Estates 93,
cultural life 39–40, 138, 208–9, 212–13, 223, 105–6, 116–17, 119–20, 124–6, 139–44, 151–3,
361–2 249–50, 381, 407
généralité of 27, 30, 46, 52, 69, 183, 218 and provincial stud 354–7, 408–9
population of 31 and public instruction 361–2
public opinion in 279–82, 290, 294, 411 and public opinion 366
riots 42, 53, 361 and receivers of the taille 144, 147–51, 201–3,
Dijonnais 29–30 244–8, 251–2, 333–4, 337–9
Dillon, abbé 378–80 and revolution 401
dixième 17, 154, 176–7, 183, 300, 305–6 and tax farming 206–8
Dole 29, 223, 345 and the poor 360–1
don gratuit 80 and voyage of honour 135–7
Donnadieu, abbé 121 and wolves 362
Dony d’Attichy, Louis 61, 93 bargaining with the crown 168–9, 172–3,
Doublot, Edme 133 175–7, 303–9, 316, 324, 402–3
Doyle, William 17 clerical elections 59–60, 371
Dracy-les-Viteaux 394 control of the fiscal system 181–5, 188–93,
Drouin de Vaudeuil, Pierre-Louis-Anne 283–5 195–206, 265–7, 298–9, 302, 307–8, 313,
Dubreuil de Pontbriand, abbé 63 320–1, 324–8, 395–6, 405–6
Ducrest, Jacques 70 corporate pride 152–3
Dufour de Villeneuve, Jean-François 341 critics of 91–2, 128–34, 173–4, 194–5, 199, 219,
Duindam, Jeroen 8 275–7, 279, 281–2, 294, 367–9, 375, 380–2,
Dumont, François 89 388, 410–12
Dumorey, Thomas 120, 151, 346 defence of provincial privilege 217, 256–7
Dumouchet, Charlotte Françoise 70 deputies of the Chambre des Comptes 93, 105,
Dunkirk, Treaty of 159 126–7, 131–2
Dupleix de Baquencourt, Guillaume Joseph 257, élu of the clergy 51, 54, 61, 91, 93–6, 115, 126–7,
323 130, 237, 256
Durand, Pierre 118 élu of the nobility 55, 67, 69, 91, 96–9, 111–12,
Durande, Jean-Edmé 281–2 115, 128, 237
Dutch War 165, 166, 171, 182, 187 élu of the third estate 73, 99–103, 110, 121, 126,
Dziembowski, Edmond 317 130, 256
growing influence of 264, 409–10
échevins 47, 54, 74, 100, 215–16 levy of the militia 218–20, 350, 397
école de dessein 361 noble elections 67, 371–2, 377, 381
economy 35–9 origins of 93
452 Index
élus (of the Estates of Burgundy) (cont.) and military étapes 347–9
patriotic contributions of 317–18 and public instruction 361–2
petitions and requêtes to 394, 395 and public opinion 279–82, 366–7
power and authority of 91, 93, 101, 126, 137–8, and rachats 171–4, 298, 300, 302, 315–16, 319
153, 194, 232, 236–7, 363–4, 407–9 and reforms of abbé La Goutte 249–55
preparation of remonstrances 134–7 and royal stud (haras) 354–7, 408–10
quarrels with the Parlement 265–70, 272–7, and the corvée 342–5
282–3, 286–93, 308, 367, 395–6, 410–11 and the poor 360–1
reform of the tax system 291, 319, 332–9 and vingtièmes 306–11, 337–8
reform of their internal administration and wine trade 171, 174, 222, 307, 311, 359
129–34, 230 archives of 140–1
relations with the ministry 50–1, 217–18, 234, attendance of third estate 73–4
244, 252–7 authority of bishops 59
relationship with the governor 145, 159, 213, bargaining over taxation 157–65, 296, 301,
218, 232–3, 244, 250, 255–6, 271, 403 303–4, 310–12, 315–16
relationship with the intendant 46–50, 176, borrowing, credit and debt of 180–1, 186–93,
218, 238–9, 311, 360 202, 295, 298–302, 319–28, 377, 405
resistance to taxation 156–7, 171, 403 chamber of the clergy 59–64, 76–7, 84, 88,
response to famine 223–8, 363 337, 371–3, 386
road building 209–12, 291, 340–2, 397, 408 chamber of the nobility 64–71, 76, 88, 278,
scrutiny of 83–4, 123–4, 128–34, 312, 323, 402 302, 313, 315, 320, 371–4
their fees and emoluments 101–3, 105, 180 chamber of the third estate 53, 55, 71–6, 88,
working practices 83–4, 126–8, 130–4, 229, 387 100, 158, 165, 313, 337, 371–4
engineer-in-chief (of the Estates of Burgundy) clerical attendance of 58–9, 63, 73
106, 119–20, 126, 139, 151, 346, 347, 408 clerical membership of 57–9, 63
appointment and duties 209–10, 236, 339–40, clerks of 141–4, 153
358 closure of the Estates 88–9
England 350 convocation and timing of assemblies 42, 51,
Époisses 38 159, 402
Espinac, Louis de Pernes comte d’ 221–2 critics of 257–60, 380–3, 385–9, 391, 394–8,
Estates of Artois 24, 331, 380, 404 410–11
Estates of Brittany 20, 22–3, 64, 67, 68, 86, 137, décrets of 82–4, 88–9
175, 178, 184, 262–3, 278, 289, 290, 295, 306, defence of rights and privileges 61, 199–200,
346, 368, 404, 406 222–3, 244–8, 259
increased authority 23, 331 deputations of 277, 287, 294, 304, 306–8, 411
Estates of Cambrésis 24, 331 disputes amongst clergy 61–4
Estates of Dauphiné 365, 375 expenditure of 165, 167–81, 212, 213, 296,
Estates of Flanders 24, 331 300–1, 382–3
Estates General of Burgundy 19, 21, 23, 25, 27–8, fiscal system of 155, 168–9, 191–3, 207, 263,
32, 39, 40, 42, 50, 51, 89–91, 104, 105, 268, 297, 327–9, 383, 403–5
115–16, 128, 194, 195, 203, 214, 223, 224, 235, governor’s instructions 51–2, 60, 76, 77, 81, 88,
255, 260, 295, 311–12, 331, 363, 388–9, 401, 159, 160, 171, 221, 245–6, 257, 288, 306, 308,
406, 412 309, 311, 313, 337, 343, 357
accounts of 105, 166–7, 296, 300–1 increasing authority 24–5, 260, 363–4, 409–10
and agricultural improvement 37, 77, 222, institutional rivalries 27–8, 85, 242–3, 263–4,
351–7 286–93, 333
and canals and waterways 321, 345–7, 408–10 management of 257–9, 261, 290
and coastal militia 313–15 membership of 32
and don gratuit 42, 51, 60, 76, 77, 79, 81, noble attendance of 64
158–63, 168–70, 186–7, 191–2, 272, 298–9, noble membership of 68–9, 386
403–4 opening ceremony 51, 53–7, 59
and economic development 220–2, 307, origins of 41
357–60 ‘patriotic’ contributions of 300, 317–18
and fiscal reform 77, 331–9, 405–6 pensions and gifts of 85–8, 135–6, 180, 235,
and foundation of university 39, 223, 361, 408 265, 374, 383, 404
Index 453
permanent officers of the Estates 54, 55, 83, 85, Fabry, family 150
86, 105–20, 124, 126, 128, 138–44, 147, 151–2, Fabry, Bernard 149–50
168, 190–1, 202, 234–5, 244, 271, 275, 340, Fabry, Edme 149
367, 404 Fabry, Nicolas 206
plans for reform of 368–74, 376–80, 383–5, famine 31, 53, 138, 154, 155, 174, 188, 194, 223–8,
391–4, 398–9, 412 363, 408
preparations for 51–3 winter of 1709 226–8
privileges and Burgundian constitution 41–2, Félix, Henri 61
52, 138, 222, 241, 247, 256–7, 272, 274, Fenouillot de Closey, avocat 119
292–3, 371–4, 377–9, 384–7, 389, 391, 398, ferme générale 6, 407
400, 406, 412 fermiers 35
procedures and protocol 76–81, 84, 88–9 Ferrand, Antoine François 29, 30, 57, 211, 224–6
règlements of 1742 and 1744 84, 87, 106, 230, Févret, family 121
236–7, 245–8, 260, 370, 371, 381, 382, 386, Févret de Fontette, president 278–9, 283–4, 288,
406, 412 367–9
relationship with the governor 43–6, 52–3, Feydeau de Brou 49, 104
59, 77–8, 80–2, 88–9, 92, 128, 163, 165, first president (of Parlement of Dijon) 55, 86,
192, 208–9, 230, 232–3, 241–2, 296, 370, 134, 271, 277, 404
403 First World War 4
relationship with the intendant 46–50, 78, Flanders 26, 36
103, 403 Flavigny 376
remonstrances of 81, 82, 84, 123, 131, 134–7, Fleury, André-Hercule, cardinal de 232, 233, 316,
165, 197, 206, 216, 219, 241, 246, 257, 316, 340
333, 351–2, 354, 361, 372, 374 Foisset, Théodore 401
requêtes and petitions to 85–6, 198, 200 Fontaine-lès-Dijon 390
resistance to taxation 155–7, 177, 213, 305, Fontenoy, battle of 236
314–15 Forest, Henri Silvestre de la 99, 130–2
response to famine 223–8, 363 Foudras, comte de 217
revenues of 181–2, 189, 296, 404 Fouquet, Nicolas 11, 174
road building 209–13, 339–45, 357, 410 Franche-Comté 28, 29, 34, 169, 226, 342, 375, 411
scrutiny of provincial administration 83–4, conquest of 29, 31, 208, 213, 223, 238
204–6, 215–16, 228–9 François I 2, 26
supposed decadence of 20, 89, 92, 402 French revolution 3, 4, 23, 25, 57, 110, 118, 123,
threats to 41–2, 230–1, 233–42 142–3, 155, 248, 296, 302, 310, 364, 400–1,
unrepresentative nature 21, 75, 386 405, 412
voyage of honour 81, 123, 129, 131–2, Fribourg 151
134–7, 160, 239, 241, 246, 255, 313, Fronde 3, 7, 19, 42, 93, 97, 108, 156, 166, 178, 213,
316, 359, 373 262, 295, 330
work of the assembly 81–6, 402–3 fundamental laws 22
Estates General (of France) 2, 96, 260, 291, 293, Fyot, family 32, 104
365–6, 374–7, 380, 381, 386, 388–92, 400, Fyot de la Marche, Claude 96
411–12
Estates of Languedoc 14, 15, 20, 23, 86, 137, 175, gabelle 117
220, 295, 306, 317, 404 Gagne, family 32, 94
fiscal management of 22 Gagne de Perrigny, president 275
Estrées, comte d’ 190, 191 Gagne de Perrigny, Aimé François 94
étapes 14, 51, 81, 109, 131, 138, 140, 144, 160, 161, Gallas, Matthias 29, 213
178, 194, 347–9, 401 Garnot, Benoı̂t 46
and étapier général 213, 347–8 Gautherin, mayor of Flavigny 376–7
cost of 169–71, 180, 216–17, 311–12 Gauthey, Emiliand-Marie 120, 151, 346
workings of 213–17 Gauthier, Pierre-François 104
états particuliers (see also Mâconnais, Charolais Gelyot, Jean 139, 141
and Bar-sur-Seine) 28, 75, 85, 140, 195–6, Geneva 52, 107, 326
202, 242–4, 260, 263 Genot, Jean 100
Eugène de Savoie, prince 175 Gevrey 30
454 Index
Gex 27, 49, 52 intendant of Burgundy 46–51, 55, 78, 86, 113, 115,
Gilles, Étienne 146 117, 164, 213, 218, 220, 224, 257, 307, 309,
Girard 99, 268, 316 311, 315, 346, 348, 350, 352, 358, 360, 363,
Girard, Claude 207 377, 392, 398, 403, 404, 410
Girard, Louis 108 power and authority 46–50, 175, 230, 252,
Girard de la Brély, Balthazar 110, 243 260, 305–6, 328, 407–9
Givry 29, 396 and communities 46–7
Goussard, Jacques 198 relationship with the governor 47–8, 78, 230,
Gouveau, clerk of the Estates 143 234–5
Gouvillier, family 245 intendants 2–4, 10, 12–13, 17, 19, 24, 92, 144, 231,
governors (see also Condé family) 10–11, 13, 43, 276, 281, 294, 330–1, 342–4, 349–50, 357,
51–3, 55–7, 59–60, 65–6, 68, 69, 74, 79, 81, 410
82, 84, 86–7, 105, 106, 110, 124, 144, 147, 151, alleged despotism of 24
203, 220, 224, 238, 244 and assemblies of the Estates 51–2
Grammont, comtesse de 190 enlightened administration 23, 330–1, 336, 351,
Grand Condé, see Condé, Louis II, prince de 356, 362, 364, 409
grande roue 72–4, 86, 99, 121–2, 146, 371 limits of authority 12–13
Grandmont, Claude Charlotte de 191 their commissions 3
Gray 29, 346 intendants of finance 6, 124
Gray, Thomas 40 Italy 107, 213, 222, 226, 227, 312
Great Britain 313, 359
Grenoble 375 Jacobin club 375
Grignon 85 Jacquinot, François Joseph 118
Grillot de Predelys, Guillaume 131–2 Jannon, Jean-Baptiste 148
Grosbois, abbé 55, 133 Jarrin, Philippe Joseph 143
Gruder, Vivien 331 Jaucourt, Louis Pierre comte de 70–1
Gueneau d’Aumont, Philibert Hugues 99, 101 Jesuits 284
Gueneau de Mussy, mayor of Semur-en-Auxois Johannisberg, battle of 45
76–7 Joly, Jean 103
Guenichot, family 119 Joly, Jean-Barthélemy 130–2
Guenichot, Nicolas 117, 118, 172 Joly de Bévy, Louis-Philibert-Joseph 273, 275,
Guillaume, family 119 277, 279, 281, 283, 288, 289, 294, 368
Guyenne 2 Joly de Fleury, Jean-François 51, 103, 114–15, 129,
Guyon, Georges de 99 230, 242, 307–9, 313–14, 362
Guyton, Antoine 100 as élu du roi 237–40, 313, 406
Jouard, family 99
Habsburg, House of 26, 28 Jouard, François 150, 152
Hague, the 97 Jouard, Guy 121
Hainaut 36 Julien, family 32
Hamscher, Albert 13 Julien, Benoı̂t 110, 135–6, 141
Harding, Robert 10 Julien, Jacques 110, 131
Harlay de Bonneuil, Nicolas Auguste de 48, 192, Jura, the 30
214–15
Haute-Guyenne 366 Kettering, Sharon 10, 11, 21
Hénault, Charles-Jean-François 291 Kwass, Michael 17, 304
Henri IV 41
Henshall, Nicholas 7 La Botte, Nicolas 130–2, 203
Herbert, François 142–3 laboureurs 35
Holstein 355 La Brosse 209–13
Holy Roman Empire 128–34, 169, 213, 312 La Croix, Antoine de 203
hospitals and public health 47, 85, 191, 349 La Fare, abbé Louis-Henri de 94, 96, 133,
Huguenots 2, 8, 15 310–11
Hurt, John 13–14 La Feuillée, Pierre du Ban, comte de 128, 129
Lagos, battle of 316
Ile-de-France 28 La Goutte, abbé Antoine de 120, 243, 245,
inspectors of manufactures 6, 358 248–59, 261, 337–8, 355, 369, 373, 406–8
Index 455
La Marche, présidente de 275 Ligny, chevalier de 70
Lamarre, Christine 357 Ligou, Daniel 75, 401
Lambert, Claude Guillaume 309–10, 324, Limoges 343
401 Loire, river 220, 345
La Michodière, Bénigne 108 Loménie de Brienne, Étienne-Charles de 366
La Michodière, Claude 108 Lorraine 26
Lamoignon, Chrétien-François de 274, 293, 366, Lorraine, Charles de, duc de Mayenne 41
374–5, 383 Lort de Sérignan de Valras, Henri-Constance de
Lamoignon de Malesherbes, Chrétien 242
Guillaume de 91, 93, 124, 126, 133, 153, 271, Louhans 358
284, 285, 287–9, 294, 380 Louis XI 2, 26, 27, 41, 247, 258, 272–4
La Monnoye, Bernard de 154 Louis XIII 1–3, 14, 41, 166
Lamy, family 150, 190 Louis XIV 1–4, 7–8, 14, 16, 17, 19–20, 22, 28,
Lamy, Edme 148–9, 206, 208 34, 39, 43, 47, 58, 61, 64, 65, 68, 73, 77,
Lamy, Thomasse 148 93, 97, 106, 120, 128, 131, 134, 174, 178,
Landreville 395 180, 184, 186, 199–201, 203, 223, 228, 233,
Langhac, Marie Roger de, marquis de Colligny 238, 263–4, 266, 278, 288, 295–7, 301, 309,
97 315, 321, 328, 333, 339, 347, 354, 402, 406,
Languedoc 11, 14, 15, 20, 21, 27, 61, 162, 180, 220, 408–9
262, 317, 353, 402 and provincial estates 155–65, 168–9, 171,
Languet, Charles 148 177–8, 187–9, 191–4, 207, 216, 308,
Languet, Guillaume 112 403–5
Languet, Odette-Thérèse 112 and secretaries of state 8
Languet de Livry, Hubert Charles 339 and the parlements 13–14
Lantissier, sieur 396, 397 and Versailles 8–9
La Ramisse, family 99 collaboration with provincial elites 14–15, 19,
Larmes, Joseph 343 22, 155, 174, 230
La Roche 345 distribution of patronage 8–9, 11, 19
La Rocheflavin, Bernard de 274 governing style 7–8, 44, 136–7, 173
La Rochelle 2 opposition to 19
Lassay, Armand de Madaillan de Lesparre, personal rule 42, 87, 125, 197
marquis de 97, 111–12, 122, 217 use of propaganda 13, 208–10, 212–13
Lassay, Leon de Madaillan de Lesparre, comte de war and diplomacy 154, 165, 180, 182, 187–9,
130–2 213, 218, 231, 350
La Tour du Pin de Gouvernet, Philippe-Antoine Louis XV 4, 24, 25, 45, 58, 59, 70, 73, 91, 141, 210,
de 104, 308, 324, 388 230, 231, 233, 236, 244, 262, 289, 295, 299,
La Tournelle, Antoine François de 121 325, 330, 341, 345, 351, 369, 401, 408
Lauzun, duc de 191 and the Estates 237, 247, 313, 333
L’Averdy, Clément Charles François de 51, and the parlements 273, 275
240–2, 244, 248, 260, 284, 315, 336, weakness of 287
360 Louis XVI 4, 36, 40, 49–51, 55, 58, 70, 91, 95, 101,
La Ville, Marie 359 107, 137, 141, 145, 153, 201–2, 204, 243, 244,
Law, John 44, 79, 231, 296, 299 248, 255, 290, 295, 302, 305, 310, 328, 334,
Le Creusot 37 336, 339, 343, 346, 353, 357, 362, 364, 366,
Legay, Marie-Laure 24, 331, 363–4, 409 369, 394, 405, 407–9
Legitimists 2 and pre-revolutionary crisis 365, 374, 388, 400,
Le Goux, abbé 94 411
Legouz, family 32 and the Estates 372
Legouz de Gerland, Benigne 39 Louis-Philippe 346
Le Paige, Louis-Adrien 272, 283 Louvois, Michel marquis de 219
Le Peletier, Claude 86, 168–9 Low Countries 26, 97, 222
Le Pelletier de La Houssaye, Félix 79 Lux, family 32
Le Tellier, family 8 Luxembourg 26
Le Tellier, Charles Maurice 95 Luzines, abbé Claude-François de 94, 390
Le Tellier, Michel 95 Lyon 28, 29, 36, 137, 211, 222–8, 282, 346
Ligeret, Jean-Baptiste 146 Lyonnais 11
456 Index
Machault d’Arnouville, Jean-Baptiste 113–15, 237, Mirabeau, Victor de Riquetti, marquis de 366
238, 305–6, 402 Miromesnil, Hue de 151
Macheco, family 32, 104, 190 Molé, Mathieu-François 284–5
Mâcon 27–31, 42, 57, 62, 67, 75, 86, 95, 282, 347, Mollerat, Bernard 149, 246–7
390 Monahan, Gregory 226–7
Mâconnais 28, 162, 309 Mongin, Edmé 94
administrative structure 28 Montagne (see Châtillon-sur-Seine)
états particuliers 28, 62, 110, 195–6, 242–3, 260, Montbard 37, 54, 99, 130–2, 211, 353, 387
263 Montcenis 27, 227, 358, 391, 397
Magna Carta 1 Montesquieu, Charles-Louis Secondat de 366,
Maigret, pensioner of the Estates 70 384
Mailly-la-Ville 75 Montferrand, gentilhomme de la porte 69
Mailly-le-Château 200 Montmorency, Henri II, duc de 3
mainmorte (see serfdom) Moreau, Barthélemy 118
Maintenon, madame de 95 Moreau, Gabriel François 242
Mairetet, Alexandre de 150, 249, 253 Moreau, Gaspard 233
maitres des requêtes 124, 136, 407 Morin, Pierre 120, 213, 340
Major, J. Russell 22–3, 155, 163 Morvan, the 30, 227
Malvin de Montazet, Antoine de 59 Mousnier, Roland 9, 16
Marbeuf, Yves-Alexandre de 51, 59, 95, 145, 247 Moussier, Louis 105, 247
Marchéseuil 396, 397 Murard, Alexandre-François de 284
maréchaussée 55, 179
Marie-Antoinette 96 Nancy 41, 94, 96
Marie de Bourgogne 26 Nantes 31, 36
Marillac, Michel de 42 Napoléon I 29, 120, 281
Marlot, Claude 114 Napoléon III 2
Marlot, Étienne Thomas 150 Narbonne 61
Marseille 31, 36, 227 Narbonne, archbishop of 317
Martenne, Claude 99 Natcheson, Beth 10, 43
Masson, Simon Bernard 141, 142 national identity 1
Maufoux, Jean-François 100, 145, 249, 256 Necker, Jacques 107, 152, 257, 309, 322–3, 327,
Maupeou, René-Nicolas-Charles-Augustin de 328, 366, 369
274, 275, 290, 308, 383 Negret, Joseph 63
Maure, comtesse de 93 Nicolle, Anne 343
Maximilian of Austria 26 Nivernais 28
mayors 47, 49, 53, 74, 103, 105, 139, 151–3, 233, Noailles, Mlle de 190
347, 404 nobility 2, 15, 34, 105, 365, 370, 375–6
and venality 100, 111, 178, 192, 240–2, 316, 377, court aristocracy 4, 8–10, 16, 57, 124, 174,
386, 404 407
appointment of 100–1, 144–7, 236 of the robe 3, 12, 16, 124, 150–1, 248, 270, 325
duties of 100, 144–5, 206, 215–16, 218, 252, of the sword 16
350, 362 nobility of Burgundy 32–4, 66–7, 98–9, 121, 183,
Mazarin, Guilio, cardinal de 3, 7–8, 12, 14, 96, 278, 302–3, 336–7, 404
156 and pre-revolutionary crisis 376–80, 383–5,
Mediterranean 36 388, 390–2, 398–9, 411–12
Merceret, Claude 390 Noirot, family 99
Mercurey 200 Noirot, François 133, 150
Mesvre 393 Nolay 30, 358
Mettam, Roger 7, 8, 13 Normandy 2, 304
Meursault 30 North Africa 227
Micault, Jean-Baptiste 281 North Sea 26
midwifery 362, 364, 392 Noyers 85, 156, 159, 404
militia 83, 109, 138, 140, 144, 152, 180, 194, 204, Nuits-Saint-Georges 27, 29, 39, 74, 121, 146,
218–20, 312–15, 335, 350, 397 148–9, 246, 343
Minard, Philippe 6 nurseries ( pepinières) 353–4
Index 457
octrois (on the river Saône) 148, 176, 192, 204, Pavia 26
228, 316, 321, 325, 328, 383, 405, 408 pays-adjacents 27, 28, 46, 52, 175, 304
administration of 206 pays d’élections 16, 20, 21, 24, 28, 42, 144, 266,
and fiscal system of the Estates 168–9, 276, 282, 294, 305, 331, 349, 357, 364, 366,
172–3, 175, 183, 185–9, 297–8, 303–4, 371, 390, 409, 410
318, 320 pays d’états 12, 14–16, 19, 20, 27–8, 40, 48, 95,
octrois, municipal 173 125, 157, 164, 262, 268, 294, 305, 306, 310,
Olivier-Martin, François 20 314, 317, 322–3, 329, 331, 351, 388, 404,
orators (of the Estates) 60, 67 409
Orgeval, Pierre d’ 92, 336 peasants 17, 34, 38, 39, 47, 174, 195, 197, 202, 218,
Orléans, Gaston d’ 3 219, 228, 307, 352–3, 357, 404
Orléans, Philippe duc d’ 231 celebrations 40
Orléanais 28 demands for representation 75
Orry, Philibert 303, 305, 316, 353 social divisions of 35
Outre-Saône 72, 74, 75 Perchet, Nicolas 118
Pernes, Georges-Anne de, comte d’Epinac 98
Pagès, Georges 4 Pernes, Louis de, comte d’Epinac 98
Palais des États (of Burgundy) 39, 52, 54, 55, 57, Pernot, Dom Andoche 62–3
68, 138, 208–9, 243, 362, 373 Perrault, Jean 108, 112
Palatinate 165 Perrier, Clément 280
Paray-le-Monial 349 Perrin, family 148
Parigot, Simon 357 Perrin, Claude 144, 202
Paris 2, 26, 28, 32, 36, 38, 43, 99, 108, 119, 129, petite roue 72–4, 121–2
131, 135–7, 157, 168, 209, 211, 222, 234, 244, Petit, family 147
251, 255, 273, 282, 325, 342 Petit, Claude 148
Parker, David 12, 15, 16 Peyrenc de Moras, François-Marie 306–8
Parlement of Dijon 27, 32, 34, 37, 39, 47, 51, 54, Phélypeaux, family 8
55, 69, 85, 86, 94, 96, 104, 108, 110, 111, 117, Philippe le Hardi, duke of Burgundy 41
140, 147, 183, 185, 190–1, 197, 223, 253, 255, physiocrats 37, 351, 366
271, 277, 303–5, 337, 339, 352, 359, 379, 406, Picardy 221
412 Pinerolo 225
and armchair affair 264–5 Piron 39
and Maupeou reforms 290 Poland 385
and physiocracy 37 Pontchartrain, Louis Phélypeaux de 48, 175, 192,
and provincial constitution 274 207, 223, 225
and union des classes 273, 275, 291 ponts et chaussées 6
cooperation with Estates 134–5, 173, 224, 363, bureau of 140, 141
408 Port-Royal 8
criticism of Estates 275–7, 367–70 Potter, Mark 23, 191, 325
disputes with Estates 116, 137, 199, 241, 255, Pouillenay 395
263–70, 272–93, 308, 333, 342, 367–9, Pourcher, Nicolas 121
395–6, 410–11 poverty 33, 35, 360–1, 373
jurisdiction of 27 premiers commis 6, 12, 124, 136, 407
pretensions of 27, 271, 278–9 Prie, Jeanne Agnès Berthelot de Pléneuf
resistance to taxation 173, 267–9, 313 marquise de 232
Parlement of Paris 13, 27, 109, 268, 273–4, 282–5, princes of the blood 375
291, 375 procureur général (of the Parlement of Dijon)
Parlement of Rennes 178 134
Parlement of Rouen 275 procureurs 99
parlements 3–5, 17, 246, 268, 273, 283, 288, 293, procureurs syndics (of the Estates of Burgundy)
295, 301, 330, 366, 374–5, 406 85, 105, 116–18, 126, 129, 134–6, 143, 216,
right of remonstrance 3, 13, 163 224, 236
Parrott, David 11 Provence 1, 11, 21, 28, 226, 351, 363
patronage, see clientèle provincial administrations 366, 382
paulette 18 provincial assemblies 240, 366, 410
458 Index
provincial estates 2, 5, 13, 17–19, 23, 24, 161, 171, Rigoley de Puligny, Claude-Denis 116
175, 246, 374, 388, 400 Rigoley de Puligny, Jean 113–14
as medieval relics 19, 20 Riquet, Paul-Pierre 220–1
debates about future of 366, 411 Rives, Paul 20
emergence of 22 roads and highways 51, 81, 85, 119, 129, 138,
growing authority 24, 331, 363–4, 409–10 209–13, 339–45
in decline 21–2 Robinet, Louis 121
unrepresentative nature 21 Rochechouart, Louis de 93
why they survived 23, 163–4, 239, 328–9 Rocroi, battle of 45, 97
Prussia 313 Rome 233, 361
public opinion 20, 25, 124, 292, 294, 330, 366 Root, Hilton 46, 47, 352
Pyrenees, peace of 158 Roquette, family 94
Roquette, Gabriel de 93, 160, 190
Quarré, family 121 Roquette, abbé Henri Emanuel de 94, 101,
Quiberon bay, battle of 316 130–2, 217
Quincé, abbé Armand de 135–7 Rosenthal, Jean-Laurent 23, 191, 325
Rouen 36
Rameau, Jean-Philippe 39 Rougeot, Jean 118
Ranfer, Simon 118 Rouillet, Antoine 120, 209, 211
rapporteurs (of the Estates) 60, 67 Roulle 358
Raviot, family 119 Roupnel, Gaston 214–15
Raviot, Guillaume 104, 118 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques 39, 271, 285, 294
regency government 3 Rousselot, Nicolas-Claude 116, 146, 243, 247, 355
Rebillon, Armand 22–4, 331, 363–4, 406 Roussillon 356
Reboullet, dean of Cuisery 63 Ryswick, Peace of 154, 167, 182
receivers of the taille 113, 114, 117, 129, 139, 144,
180–2, 189, 197, 204, 236, 270, 369, 373 Saint-Aignan, Paul-Hippolyte de Beauvilliers,
commissions of 147, 249, 254 duc de 45, 59, 87, 230, 233–5, 237, 265
critics of 396–7 Saint-Florentin, Louis Phélypeaux comte de 50,
duties of 140, 144–5, 196, 206, 218, 227, 251–2, 80, 103, 118, 152, 153, 282
350 and Burgundian administration 50, 127–8,
right of appointment 236, 244–8 146, 234–7, 244, 247
social background and kinship ties 147–51, 153 patronage of 143, 244
supervision of 201–3, 333–4, 337–9 Saint-Helier 394
Reims 40 Saint Jacob, Pierre de 34, 35, 37, 47, 195, 342
Rémond, family 148, 150 Saint-Jean-de-Losne 27, 29, 74, 99, 345
Rémond, Bonaventure 211 Saint-Julien, Pierre de 41
Rémond, Daniel 202–3 Saint-Laurent-lès-Chalon 148, 203
Rémond, Joseph François 150 Saint-Martin-de-Vaulx 200
Rennes 375 Saint Martin of Auxerre 63
Rhine, river 346 Saint-Maurice, abbé de 227
Rhône, river 29, 36, 345 Saint-Seine 30, 146
Richard, family 102 Saint-Symphorien 345
Richard, Germain 130–2, 207 Saints, battle of 318
Richard de Ruffey, Gilles-Germaine 102–3 Saône, river (see also octrois) 29–30, 132, 171,
Richard, Jean 274, 332 217–18, 220, 226, 297, 345–7, 358
Richelieu, Armand-Jean du Plessis, cardinal de and commerce 29, 33, 52, 222, 226
2–3, 8, 12, 14, 42, 109, 220 Saulieu 27, 31, 198, 387
Rigault, avocat 119 Saulx-Tavanes, family 32, 78, 98, 122
Rigoley, family 112–16, 118, 190 Saulx-Tavanes, Charles-Marie-Gaspard de,
Rigoley, Claude 47, 48, 110–12, 135–6, 172, 175, comte de Saulx 115
190, 200, 224, 226 Saulx-Tavanes, comte de 78–80, 98, 264–5,
Rigoley, Denis 110 313–14
Rigoley de Mypon, Denis Claude 112–14, 304 Sauvage, Claude 234
Rigoley d’Ogny, Claude-Jean 113, 115, 289 Savoy 225
Index 459
secours extraordinaire 168–9, 178 reform of 251–4, 291, 331–6, 364, 373
secrétaires des états (of Estates of Burgundy) 47, system of feux (hearths) 334–5, 408
105, 109–16, 124, 126, 139, 236, 249, 271, Tallard, maréchal de 98
293, 351, 367, 403 Talleyrand-Périgord, Charles Maurice de 390–1
bureaux of 139–40 Talmay 29
duties of 129, 131, 135–6, 141, 152–3, 166, 340, Talon, M. 114–15
348, 350 Tanlay 201, 211
fees and emoluments 109–10 taxation
price of office 109 inequalities of 70–1, 249, 302–5, 336–7, 364
secretaries of state 50–67, 82, 87, 124, 136, 147, Ternant, Jean 343
151, 215, 348, 350, 370 Terray, abbé Joseph-Marie 241, 308, 324, 327
Seguin, family 150 Thésut, family 43, 191
Seguin, Edme 149, 206 Thésut, Abraham de 94
Seguin, Nicolas 113–15, 148–9 Thésut, Jean de 94, 191
Seignelay 221 Thésut, Jacques de 94
seigneurialism 34 Thésut, Louis de 108
seigneurial reaction 34, 47 Thésut de Ragy, Charles-Bénigne 48, 208
Seigny 85 Thianges, family 32
Seille, river 347 Thianges, Claude-Eléonor Damas, duc de
Seine, river 29, 345 Pont-de-Vaux, marquis de 137
Semur-en-Auxois 30, 31, 33, 76, 85, 101, 103, 108, Thiard, family 98
211, 293, 374, 388, 392 Thibault, Dom Pierre 122
Semur-en-Brionnais 227, 391, 397 Thierry, Claude 139
Sénac de Meilhan, Gabriel 330 third estate 55, 216, 319, 365, 370, 375
Senaux, Bertrand 61 and pre-revolution in Dijon 375–80, 384–9,
Sens, Mlle de, princesse de Condé 146 391, 398, 411–12
serfdom 34 Thiroux, Lazare Louis 118
Seurre 29, 347 Thirty Years War 3, 166, 192, 213
Seven Years War 45, 196, 240, 267, 295, 301, 304 Thomas, Alexandre 2, 20, 163, 194–5, 214–15,
Sièyes, abbé Emmanuel-Joseph 376, 385 228, 408
Smith, Roger 43 Thorey 343
state 1, 3–8, 25, 155, 327 Thubière de Caylus, Charles-Gabriel Daniel 95
Strasbourg 346 Tocqueville, Alexis de 1–2, 4
stud (see also Diénay) 144, 222, 354–6, 370, 373, and centralisation 1–2, 4
397 and provincial estates 20–1
subdelegates, of the intendants 12, 46, 49, 100, Tournus 216, 343
144, 145, 218, 270–1, 330, 356 treasurer general (of the Estates of Burgundy)
subsistance et exemption des gens de guerre 157–61, 100, 105–9, 112–16, 124, 126, 133, 135, 166,
168, 217 197, 202–5, 208, 227, 236, 244, 247, 253–4,
Suremain, family 147–8, 150 326, 338, 340, 369, 373, 403
Suremain, Jean-Baptiste 227 critics of 235, 249–50, 367
survivance 116, 150, 244–6, 271 fees and profits of 106–7, 180, 307, 396
Swiss Confederation 28, 358 trésoriers de France 55
Trouvé, abbé François 63
taille 21, 77, 85, 92, 107, 134, 140, 152, 156, 157, Trudaine, Daniel 341
168, 175, 176, 181–5, 189, 195–206, 216–18, Trudaine, Daniel Charles 284
227, 249, 253, 266, 281, 298, 301–2, 313, 320, Trullard, procureur syndic of Dijon 375
325, 336, 343, 344, 394, 405 Turgot, Anne Robert Jacques 53, 254, 261, 330,
and contrainte solidaire 197, 253, 334 343, 345, 361, 406
and general visits 196–8, 205–6, 251, 332–4, Turin 97
336, 339, 408
and nouveau pied de taille 145, 198, 251, 265–7, Uncey-le-Franc 396
270, 286, 293, 332–3, 336, 339 Unigenitus, papal Bull 273
assessors of 196, 198, 205, 333, 336 United States 376
collectors of 196–7, 205, 250, 320, 334, 336 University of Dijon 39, 118, 119, 223, 361, 386, 408
460 Index
Valois, dukes of Burgundy 26, 41, 57, 93, 98, 102, Villeroy, family 11
272–4, 380 Villeroy, maréchal de 226
state of 26 vingtième(s) 107, 242, 249–50, 267–8, 275, 300,
Valromey 27, 49 304–10, 322, 328, 335, 339, 373, 395, 402,
Varenne, Jacques 113–16, 267–70, 291, 292, 294, 405, 408
367, 368, 410 bureau of 140, 143
disgrace of 280–1, 286–90 reform of collection 252–3, 258, 337–8, 372,
early career of 270–1 406, 411
quarrel with the Parlement 272–86 Voisenet, Jean-Baptiste 103
Varenne de Béost, Antoine 271, 286, 351 Volnay 30
Varenne de Fénilles 271 Voysin, Daniel François 219
Vauban, Sébastien le Prestre de 176
venality (see also mayors) 18, 216, 240, 404 War of American Independence 37, 315, 319,
Verdun, Gilbert de Gadagne d’Hostun, 323
comte de 98 War of Devolution 159, 161
Verdun-sur-le-Doubs 29, 36 Wars of Religion 41
Vergennes, Charles Gravier comte de 51, 359 War of the Austrian Succession 195, 295, 298,
Versailles 3, 8–9, 12, 32, 39, 44, 48, 62, 87, 88, 96, 303, 305, 312, 347, 349
99, 103, 109, 110, 115, 124, 131, 137, 147, 153, War of the League of Augsburg 69, 154, 155, 166,
172, 224, 225, 234, 240, 242, 246, 257, 269, 170, 216
280, 282, 286–7, 289, 308, 339, 341, 383, 390, War of the Spanish Succession 70, 154, 167, 173,
400, 404, 407, 410 182, 187, 193, 219, 295, 406
Versoix 52 War of the Polish Succession 296, 305, 316
Viard de Quemigny, Claude 122 Whig school of history 1, 4, 20, 260
Vielard, François 396 Wilkinson 37
Vienne, family 32, 98
Vienne, Louis-Henri comte de 98, 277–8, 282, Xaintrailles, Joseph de 97, 122, 190
287, 376, 378
vicomte-mayeur of Dijon 48, 54, 55, 72, 74, 93, Yonne, river 345
103–5, 114, 126–7, 130–2, 150, 247, 256 Young, Arthur 37, 38, 260

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j ul i a n s wa n n is Lecturer in Early Modern European History at

Books in the series

Royalty and Diplomacy in Europe, 1890–1914

Cambridge University Press

© Julian Swann 2003

This book is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provision of

Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of

List of illustrations page ix

1 Historians, absolute monarchy and the provincial estates 1

1 The grande salle of the Estates of Burgundy (Source: Musée

3.1Chamber of the clergy: attendance, 1682–1787 page 58

1 Governors of Burgundy, 1661–1789 page 413

1 The duchy of Burgundy in the eighteenth century

ADCO Archives Départementales de la Côte d’Or

Historians, absolute monarchy and

8 L. André, ed., Testament politique (Paris, 1947), p. 95.

17 Ibid., p. 634. 18 Ibid., p. 390.

82 Thomas, Une province sous Louis XIV , p. iv.

100 Collins, Classes, estates, and order, p. 285.

103 Major, Renaissance monarchy to absolute monarchy, p. 357.

Ancien régime Burgundy

12 Saint Jacob, Les paysans de la Bourgogne, pp. 12–15.

18 Ibid., 65–8, 99.

Oh you who complain of the intractability of the peasant when he refuses to

Not that everything in Burgundian agriculture was quite as sombre as Young

51 See chapter 11.

The Estates General of Burgundy

According to the sixteenth-century antiquarian, Pierre de Saint-Julien, the

1 Major, Representative government, pp. 185–7.

22 Garnot, Vivre en Bourgogne, pp. 67–71.

50 AN K 569, fol. 30, Condé to Turgot, 14 April 1775.

60 ADCO C 3021, fols. 401–3.

Plate 1 The grand salle of the Estates of Burgundy

of the bishopric of Dijon in 1731. If we examine the attendance lists of the

Plate 2 Plan of the chamber of clergy at the Estates of Burgundy in 1697

84 BMD MS 840, fol. 72.

Figure 3.2 Chamber of nobility: attendance, 1662–1787

Outre-Saône, were permitted to send deputies in rotation, effectively allow-

Figure 3.3 Chamber of the third estate: attendance, 1688–1787

151 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, p. 103.

159 Lamarre, Petites villes, pp. 107–8.

181 ADCO C 3030, fols. 580–6.

210 ADCO C 2999, fol. 159.

Nosseigneurs les élus and the officers of the Estates

5 G. Bouchard, ‘Comptes borgnes et fiscalité aveugle au dix-huitième siècle’, Annales de Bourgogne 26

32 ADCO E 1679, Saint-Florentin to Saulx-Tavanes, 5 May 1747.

38 Smith, ‘The government of Burgundy’, p. 340.

42 Maufoux’s dual responsibilities eventually caused problems, see chapter 5.

47 ADCO 1 F 460, ‘Administration de la province de Bourgogne considerée comme paı̈s d’états’. On

72 An issue discussed in chapter 8.

85 Billioud, États de Bourgogne, p. 176. They were often referred to as greffiers.

108 AN H1 123, fols. 49, 51, 52, 53.

145 ADCO C 2999, fol. 12.

The provincial administration: authority

Plate 4 Plan of the chamber of élus at the Estates of Burgundy

opinions were cancelled out. The combination of the vicomte-mayeur and

11 Bouchard, De l’humanisme, pp. 29–30.

46 ADCO C 3309, fol. 2. 47 Ibid., fol. 3. 48 Ibid., fol. 5.

54 Ibid., deliberation of 14 December 1785. 55 ADCO C 3055.

84 Bodineau, ‘Fonctionnaires régionaux’, 154.

99 Thanks principally to the scholarship of Lamarre, Petites villes.

129 Ibid., fols. 52–3. 130 Ibid., fol. 53.