TY - JOUR
AU - Girard,, Renée
AB - Abstract— This article examines the Bordeaux bookseller and printer Arnaud-Antoine Pallandre’s two censorship trials in 1775 and 1790 to compare state–media relations during the late Bourbon monarchy and the French Revolution. An entourage of protectors kept Pallandre in business even though he flouted pre-revolutionary book trade legislation. After 1789, his printing and bookselling shop became a centre of pamphlet sales and counter-revolutionary gatherings that came under intense scrutiny by patriots in the clubs, the National Guard and the crowds, who pressured the municipal governments to end Pallandre’s trade in counter-revolutionary pamphlets. He eventually went to the guillotine in 1794. This article suggests that members of formerly privileged groups continued to wield considerable influence over printers and booksellers in France after 1789, making them objects of both government and popular censorship. In the struggle to achieve limits on a free press, printers and booksellers came to be regarded as individuals with public (potentially dangerous) political affiliations in a new way, a development that may help explain the high levels of media repression in the French Revolution. It is again Pallandre whom the municipality put in prison for distributing [political] libels. That in itself would be enough to condemn him. Trial Verdict, 1794 On 3 October 1775, a customs official received a tip that a large crate of seditious books was entering Bordeaux on the boat from Agen to be forwarded on to Blaye, a small town up the Gironde estuary.1 The tip was valid. A detachment of customs officials found Raymond Roche, a journeyman printer, at an inn on the rue des Herbes distributing copies of a forbidden work, L’Ombre de Louis XV au Tribunal de Minos, a short play that judged Louis XV for neglecting his duties, indulging in luxury and obeying the will of his mistresses. The commandant of the province, Maréchal Duc de Mouchy, ordered the shipment to be confiscated and Roche imprisoned. Guild officers opened the huge crate and counted 1,256 copies of L’Ombre de Louis printed in ‘Tartarus black by the invisible printer of the Spirits’ (‘au noir de tartare chez l’invisible imprimeur des Esprits’) (1775). On Mouchy’s orders, Jean Laurent Buhan, the attorney responsible for defending the public interest in Bordeaux, examined the work and expressed horror at the way the pamphlet attacked the throne, the memory of Louis and the consoling truths of religion. The work was a libel (‘libelle’), one of the personal attacks on powerful people that historians have studied extensively to try to understand political culture in France on the eve of the French Revolution.2 Roche was in trouble, but it took him time to realize the seriousness of his position. On the boat trip, he had been surprisingly carefree, happily informing his fellow passengers that he was Voltaire’s printer and claiming that he often came to Bordeaux and provided brochures to several printers and booksellers. He told the customs officials that he had two printing houses, one in Versoix (near Geneva), and the other in Châtellerault in Poitou, and that he had ‘in press’, in Geneva, another work entitled La Vie de Louis XV that was not yet finished. As he began to feel the pressure, he attempted to explain how it was that he was accompanying a large shipment of illegal books along the Garonne river from Toulouse and made stops in Agen, Tonneins, La Réole, Marmande, Saint Macaire and Langon to sell copies. Over the next few days he provided three versions of his story. At first, he tried to say that he was in Geneva where an English bookseller gave him the shipment of L’Ombre to take to Nantes and London. Seemingly, he thought this version of events would be the least incriminating: the pamphlet printed outside the realm and destined for re-export. But his story broke down when he had no explanation of how he had transported such a large bundle into France. In a second version of the story, Roche claimed he was a journeyman printer employed by François Richard in Cahors who printed the pamphlets.3 Finally, Roche admitted some entrepreneurship of his own: in October 1774, he bought a copy of L’Ombre from a hawker at the Bordeaux Stock Exchange and took it to Richard, who printed it. In all these versions, the Bordeaux recipient of the pamphlets was Arnaud-Antoine Pallandre (1750–1794) who was arrested along with his father and others and put on trial for distributing seditious pamphlets. Pallandre’s arrest for clandestine book trading in 1775 was just the first of several encounters with the forces of censorship in a career that stretched from 1775 to 1794.4 These encounters are the subject of this article. In 1790, fifteen years after the L’Ombre affair, Pallandre—who was by then an established bookseller on Bordeaux’s Place St Projet—was before the judges again, denying charges that he distributed a counter-revolutionary work, L’Ami des campagnes et des faubourgs, which criticized the National Assembly for going beyond its mandate. In the following pages we will compare Pallandre’s censorship trials of 1775 and 1790 to explore both the ideas about printer-bookseller liability they reveal and the increased vulnerability of printers and booksellers after 1789. Later, during the Terror, Pallandre was put on trial a third time, for selling counter-revolutionary pamphlets but mainly because his shop was a meeting place of counter-revolutionaries and he was associated in the minds of patriots with counter-revolution. Over the course of the eighteenth century, a notion of a ‘loyal’ media achieved some currency as the royal policy of licensing all printers in the realm accustomed printers and booksellers to expressing loyalty to the king and to the law.5 But this evolution was incomplete and the accompanying repressive measures that might have frightened printers and booksellers into obedience lagged well behind because printers and booksellers enjoyed extensive patronage, usually in noble, parlementaire and church circles. In 1775, Pallandre, for example, was acquitted despite strong evidence against him.6 During the Revolution, however, the authorities held Pallandre liable for his business in an unprecedented way. Pallandre’s fate demonstrates the higher profile and greater vulnerability of printers and booksellers in the French Revolution as revealed by the execution of at least eleven provincial printers and the jailing of many others during the Terror.7 Why printers and booksellers became targets in a new way is a question worth asking because the early Revolution is well known for bringing in the Declaration of the Rights of Man and introducing a deregulated free market in print.8 One explanation is offered by Charles Walton’s recent analysis of print culture in the Revolution, Policing Public Opinion in the French Revolution, where he argues that the persistence of old regime attitudes about honour after 1789 fuelled demands to repress speech, insults, libels and any form of calumny. These attitudes (which are evident in several cultural practices) formed a culture of repression that stymied efforts to establish freedom of the press. Even worse, they contributed to violence and to the onset of the Terror.9 In a remarkable cultural analysis, Walton bundles together speech, insults, libels, duels, oaths and exclusions from elected assemblies to show, in a rather wholesale way, why freedom of the press could not be implemented. This article offers an additional explanation by suggesting that there is merit in unbundling print production and sale from Walton’s mix of cultural phenomena and exploring it separately to capture the power dynamics involved. A generation of book historians has shown that print production was a collaborative enterprise. To print a pamphlet required money, supplies, equipment and skill. In the calculations about what pamphlets to print and how to fund and distribute them, the printers and their politics played a role. So too did their collaborators and clients. How did printers respond to the demand for pamphlets and newspapers between 1788 and 1791, an era that saw the press explode in a ‘pamphlet moment’ of unprecedented proportions?10 By looking closely at printers and their collaborators we gain some insight into the roles and fates of the men and women who dealt first hand with competing notions about freedom of the press and its limits, and faced the challenges of regime change and of political turmoil. While much research remains to be done on these questions it is very clear, from what we know to date, that freedom of the press brought both deregulation of the printing and bookselling industries and unprecedented levels of printer persecution. Certainly, issues of honour and repressive instincts played a role in inhibiting freedom of the press, but a more fine-grained exploration shows that it is important as well to recognize the grip that networks of clients had on the media, a social and political story that is part of the explanation for the high levels of repression. Walton’s focus on a culture of repression and government inability to clearly define the limits on freedom of expression is undoubtedly important, but it camouflages the reality that many printers were integrated into networks of men and women whose motives were varied and often profoundly counter-revolutionary . Pallandre was one of these printers. The boundary between illegal and legal had little meaning for him, either before 1789 or after. He was a clandestine trader who, in 1775, was in the habit of bringing in shipments of illegal pamphlets to sell at the Bordeaux fair, a free trade zone during October. He was not the sort of participant in the clandestine book trade that Robert Darnton has made so well known, because he quite publicly flaunted the censorship and book trade rules of the Bourbon monarchy and ran a large business straddling both the legal and illegal trade in Bordeaux where he had many patrons with whom he came to be publicly identified. The freedoms offered by the Revolution brought opportunities, but also great dangers, and he saw the patronage networks he relied on in the old regime evolve and eventually collapse. Pallandre’s fate after 1789 reveals the limits on freedom of the press, the role of popular censorship in Bordeaux in the French Revolution: his entourage is key to understanding his career. To explain why printers and booksellers were persecuted in an unprecedented manner after 1789 we need to recognize that many were deeply integrated into groups of disillusioned men and women. The crowds and many revolutionary governments knew this and had good reason to be very wary of a free media. I The elder Pallandre is eloquent proof that one can obtain protections [as a printer] without ever having completed an apprenticeship. A Juger en la cour consulaire…pour Paul-Anne Pallandre11 The first important point to make about the Pallandre family is that the Bordeaux Printing and Bookselling Guild opposed it with all its force. Angry protests began as soon as the elder Antoine Pallandre, a printing worker and the son of a cobbler in Lyon, set up as a bookseller on the rue du Poisson Salé posting his sign ‘Au Grand Montesquieu’, having purchased one of eight bookseller offices created by a royal edict of 1767.12 The Guild seized every opportunity in their correspondence with the intendant, with the Office of the Book Trade and with the Chancellor to close down the activities of the Pallandre family. This hostility informed the surveys they were asked to conduct, the discussions of potential printer candidates, and the very way they represented the book trade in their town to royal officials: Bordeaux was, they said, a commercial town untouched by literature and the government should reduce the number of booksellers and printers to prevent them being forced into the clandestine book trade for financial survival.13 Here, the Bordeaux Guild was participating in the classic fear tactics employed by the media lobby in the reigns of Louis XV and XVI to continually highlight a dangerous clandestine trade that threatened religion, the state and morals. Only if royal officials further privileged the state’s licensed printers could this threat be contained. Not surprisingly, while the Guild reluctantly accepted Pallandre and his brother as booksellers, it rejected out of hand Pallandre’s petition to become a printer. He put himself at the Guild’s mercy in three different competitions: one to replace the Widow Séjourné (1777–83), one to replace the Widow Calamy (1783) and one to replace Jean Chappuis (1784). Not only did the Guild officers refuse to recognize Pallandre’s talents, they gloried in publicizing his illiteracy.14 The notion that Pallandre was stunningly ignorant and illiterate is a regularly occurring trope whenever the Guild mentioned him. Pallandre, nevertheless, became a printer by cultivating patrons in Bordeaux and Versailles who helped him override Guild opposition. In the first of his failed efforts to obtain a printer licence he invoked the patronage of Madame Jehan Duroy, the wife of Jean Duroy, a judge in the Parlement of Bordeaux.15 Pallandre wrote to her to explain that his initial request to Maupeou for a printer position in Bordeaux had been well received, but that the Guild officers were alarmed and lobbying Duchesne, the secretary of the intendant, to block him. Playing on Duchesne’s well-known piety, the Guild was painting a shocking portrait of print culture in Bordeaux as rife with immorality and irreligion: libelles, evil books and pamphlets that ‘should never see the light of day’, attacking royal ministers. They blamed this dangerous state of affairs on a surplus of printers in Bordeaux who lacked authorized work. Pallandre asked Madame Duroy to make sure that Duchesne knew that these were completely disingenuous claims, belied by the speed with which Guild officers awarded printer positions to their friends or relatives. Madame Duroy followed up on Pallandre’s request and wrote to her cousin Madame Letellier on 10 May 1772, asking her to use her influence to support the young printer Pallandre. She wanted it understood in the intendant’s offices that she had heard only good things about Pallandre’s abilities. Duroy was part of a contingent in Bordeaux made up of jurats (the municipal government in Bordeaux) and a number of notables who wanted a new printer and the cheaper more available print that would come with him. The jurats—who argued that Bordeaux did not have enough printers and that prices were too high—tried to authorize a new newspaper that Pallandre was to print entitled L’Iris de Guienne. In November 1773, Antoine printed the first issue but it was soon closed down by the intendant.16 Backers of L’Iris included the De Seze brothers, who would have marshalled the support of many Bordeaux intellectuals as the family included several brilliant lawyers who were to become politically active in the Revolution.17 Their salon on rue de La Devise was attended by, among others, Charles Dupaty, then an advocate-general of the Parlement of Bordeaux, the Garat brothers (Basques, lawyers, writers and future deputies to the Estates General), the writer and future member of the Convention, Alexandre Deleyre, and Jacques Duranthon (a barrister in the Parlement of Bordeaux and future minister of justice in the Legislative Assembly). The milieu was heavily influenced by enlightened ideas and deeply engaged with issues of legal reform, a cause that brought Dupaty great celebrity later in the 1780s. They were avid readers of books and had many protectors in high places. In the 1770s, they were patriots opposed to the Maupeou coup.18 Alas, there are no documents to explore the ways they supported Pallandre’s newspaper, L’Iris. The local chronicler Pierre Bernadau said that L’Iris was a revival of an organ of patriot propaganda of the same name that was published ten years earlier. It was a work that provided a regional perspective of the arts, culture and science, and where the writer Sébastien Mercier cut his teeth as an opposition journalist. Another of Pallandre’s protectors was François Pelusset, a royal official in charge of property seized from religious fugitives (Directeur de la Régie des biens des religionnaires fugitifs à Bordeaux), a municipal attorney, and a commissioner of police. Pelusset took a serious interest in the printing house on the rue St James run by the Calamy family and married the daughter in 1758. Against the law, the widow Calamy subcontracted the business to Pallandre and his brother Paul for 1200 livres a year.19 When the widow Calamy died in November 1777, Guild officers tried to close down the printing house but found themselves up against Pelusset who was able to intimidate them.20 Using his extensive connections, Pelusset got the intendant to make the Guild back off and, as the appointment of a successor to the Calamy printing house was delayed until 1783, Pallandre was able to settle in as an illegal printer in Bordeaux.21 During the Maupeou years, as we have seen, Pallandre could count on the support of Madame Duroy but there was a second woman whose patronage he enjoyed - his aunt Louise Pallandre - who lived in Bordeaux, and then later in Paris with Jean-Louis Soliva, a military administrator (commissaire de guerre). Louise’s modest origins as the daughter of an illiterate cobbler in Lyon were ancient history by the 1760s when she was living in Bordeaux on the Allées de Tourny.22 Later she is described as a Bourgeoise de Paris and living on the rue de Cléry with Soliva in a close personal relationship.23 Louise had important connections with major Bordeaux families: in 1773, she lent 12,000 livres to De Gasq, président du Parlement de Bordeaux, and one of her sources of income when she died in 1780 was the 1,200 livres a year she received from this loan.24 In 1780, she sent a gift of porcelain to Journu in Bordeaux: the Journu family was a prominent commercial family in Bordeaux that had made a fortune in the West Indian sugar grade achieving noble status.25 Pallandre acknowledged his aunt’s patronage on her death.26 While Louise had Bordeaux connections, Soliva, the possessor of a lucrative venal office, had connections in Versailles. In January 1777, when Pallandre was in Paris lobbying Camus de Neville, Director of the Book Trade, for a printing position, he was being advised by Soliva on how to block the Guild from having the Calamy licence revoked. Soliva informed him that the decision would take time and that there were twenty-one vacancies in France.27 Soliva was in contact with many ministers in Louis XVI’s government and involved in proposals for all sorts of projects: for insurance, for demolishing the Chateau Trompette in Bordeaux, for settling Dutch emigrés in the Landes, and for a coach service in Marseille. He wrote to Antoine, counselling him.28 On Louise’s death, Antoine and Paul both wrote letters of condolence to Soliva, acknowledging his patronage.29 Antoine implored Soliva to continue his ‘kindnesses’ (‘bontés’) and referred to him as his ‘protecteur’. Paul quite elegantly converted his condolences into a request that Soliva continue the ‘favours’ (‘bonnes grâces’) that had already been so helpful. There is no doubt that Soliva protected both Pallandre brothers. The above are just a few of Pallandre’s patrons whose names have come to us by the luck of archival preservation. Pallandre also was a Freemason, a member of La Française d’Aquitaine from its inception in 1781 and their printer. Bordeaux had an important number of Freemasonry lodges throughout the eighteenth century, which attracted many of the town’s elite. Pallandre may have had access to the friendship, support and protection of his Freemason brothers.30 Whatever his difficulties, signs of Pallandre’s success are everywhere. In March 1781, he made a rather impressive marriage to the daughter of a lottery administrator, a grand event with more than twenty-five guests at the country estate of the bride on the chemin de Pessac.31 The bride’s dowry was 6,600 livres (a sum that was kept low for an unspecified reason known to both parties and was increased by 3,000 five years later) and Pallandre’s was 24,000 livres. In 1780, Pallandre had established a successful cabinet littéraire where the Bordelais came to read books, newspapers and pamphlets. Bernadau wrote that the reading room was a great service for the Bordelais and for visitors, saying Pallandre kept it current, adding books daily. In his advertising, Pallandre vaunted the completeness of his collection of recent books, newspapers and legal briefs from France and abroad. He also committed to subscribing to all the major newspapers and to providing all the plays that were current.32 An inventory of Pallandre’s stock shows that he carried a wide selection of literature, many of the works of the major philosophes, and the popular writers of the late Enlightenment, drawing them from booksellers, mainly from France but some from abroad.33 His success is described by Bernadau in September 1788: By dint of selling pamphlets, the corsair Pallandre, the elder, has earned enough to buy a property worth 36,000 livres for which he paid cash. Such a rapid fortune is not surprising as he is the only bookseller with the latest titles.34 He went on to have a major business and had the titles of official bookseller of the University of Bordeaux and of Monsieur, the king’s brother, and official librarian of Mgr le maréchal de Noailles, duc de Mouchy. 35 Thus, despite failing miserably in the concours for three separate printer vacancies in Bordeaux, there was sufficient support from Versailles and in Bordeaux for Pallandre to run a successful printing house and bookselling business until the French Revolution, and he was a major provider of pamphlets in the pre-revolutionary period. During this time, Pallandre carried on much as he had in the past, providing pamphlets and dodging the police. Parlementaire resistance in Bordeaux to ‘royal despotism’ led to their exile to Libourne in August 1787, a crisis that spawned hundreds of pamphlets which the police could not contain. In 1787 and 1788, the Parlement of Bordeaux, along with other parlements in France, was engulfed in the last of many major conflicts that pitted the law courts in the realm against the king’s ministers who, pushed by financial pressures, introduced reforms that undermined the courts’ prerogatives. The printers were careful not to put their names on controversial items but often reprinted items that arrived in town from Paris. Bernadau, who sided with the Parlement, chastised the local commander, the comte de Fumel, for acting like an inquisitor of the book trade in Bordeaux.36 On 13 January 1788 Bernadau wrote that political discussions were spawning a myriad of pamphlets of all political stripes and he was overwhelmed.37 Pallandre was right in the thick of the fray, courting clients, searching for profit and trying to avoid the police. Bernadau noted in his diary in February 1788 that the police raided Pallandre’s shop but were unable to catch him selling satirical brochures.38 Later, on 9 August, he wrote that Pallandre was selling copies of royal decrees at high prices along with recent fiction ‘either political or lewd’.39 And two weeks later, on 22 August, Bernadau again complained of Pallandre’s high prices, noting that the Bordeaux printers were pirating and undercutting each other in their efforts to sell the wildly popular Mémoire that M. Bergasse launched against Beaumarchais.40 Two days later the government printer, Michel Racle, protested that Pallandre was pirating royal decrees.41 The collapse of the ministry of Loménie de Brienne, who spearheaded the government’s efforts to curtail the power of the parlements, and Louis’ promise to summon the Estate General did not dampen the demand either for pamphlets or hinder Pallandre’s activity. In September 1788, as we have noted, Bernadau claimed that Pallandre was making a fortune.42 With the Parlement’s return from exile to Bordeaux in October 1788, the pamphlet frenzy continued.43 In October, Pallandre was commissioning verses from the poet and future Girondin journalist Bruno-Gabriel Marandon in favour of the Parlement. Throughout the autumn, political debate was intense. On 19 December 1788, Pallandre was selling a pamphlet entitled Coupe gorge sans exemple, which was denounced to the Parlement. II New censorship forces formed in Bordeaux after the fall of the Bastille. The remainder of this article will show how these affected Pallandre’s career by comparing his 1775 censorship trial with a similar trial in 1790 and exploring his execution in the Terror. On 17 July 1789, the news of events in Paris reached Bordeaux in a letter written by the merchant Paul Nairac, one of the city’s deputies to the Estates General; but Pallandre and the other printers in Bordeaux were afraid to print it. Nairac described the violence in Paris, the fall of the Invalides, the Bastille and other prisons. In the tumult, Louis XVI had been forced to surrender to the National Assembly, a welcome development for Nairac. The Nation, he wrote, owed its liberty to the deputies. Bordeaux’s printers refused Nairac’s request to print his letter because this account of disorder in the capital might cause social unrest and incur the wrath of the Bordeaux Parlement. Nevertheless, public pressure was great and, in the end, the comte de Fumel, authorized the printing of an edition of the letter which appeared the following day. Instead of fixing his name to the page in accordance with printing practice, the printer was careful to print ‘Forcé par le peuple’.44 State-media relations were entering uncharted territory. The National Guard was formed in Bordeaux in late July to re-establish stability after the fall of the Bastille and, before long, it took on a censorship role.45 Pallandre made a smooth and enthusiastic move into the ranks of Bordeaux’s patriots in the summer of 1789 by getting elected captain of his parish’s company of the National Guard. But, on 12 October, the newly elected commander of the National Guard, the duc de Duras, showed up at Pallandre’s door on the Place St Projet to seize a pamphlet entitled Quand Aurons-Nous Du Pain, Vous dormez Parisiens & vous manquez de pain! Aurons-nous du pain? which criticized the Parisians for betraying the king, only to fall into the hands of the ‘vampire’ Lafayette who controlled the bread supply and let the people starve.46 Bernadau raised an important question about whether the National Guard should be raiding bookshops, an unacceptable move at a time when everyone was crying out against arbitrary acts. The citys Ninety Electors took on the role of censors. In the summer of 1789, the Ninety Electors—the body which had elected Bordeaux’s representatives to the Estates General—were ruling Bordeaux, having managed to establish themselves as the legitimate authority.47 It fell to the Electors to worry about reconciling ideas about liberty and order, and this meant dealing with seditious printing. They immediately issued orders forbidding seditious speech and asked the National Guard companies to arrest offenders.48 But it was unclear whether or not they were to supervise the town’s printers. In January 1790, the Electors tried to diffuse the zeal of the Bordeaux crowd who demanded that Pallandre be punished for selling a deeply conservative pamphlet entitled Lettre de L’Abbé Raynal, written under the name of the celebrated philosophe and author of Histoire des deux Indes—a major compendium of knowledge on France’s colonial empire—by a fan who presumably sought to capitalize on Raynal’s popularity.49 The pamphlet, published in December 1789, argued that the revolutionaries needed to pause, take stock, move slowly and recognize the necessity of a strong executive and the dangers of promoting the idea of equality. It was a serious contribution to ongoing debates but included provocative passages referring to French men and women being ‘surrounded by ruins, blood and tears’ and to the Declaration of the Rights of Man as ‘a dangerous work that promoted discord and war’. Members of the crowd seized copies from the hawkers and demanded punishment. Pierre Vechère Brive, a 34-year-old naval office clerk, was in the radical Café National on the cours de Chapeau Rouge and heard the Lettre read aloud there.50 Some 150 signed a petition attesting to Pallandre selling it. The wine merchant François Desfieux, founder of the Club du Café National and later an active Jacobin in Paris during the Terror, described how he and three others went to Pallandre’s National Guard company to report him selling the Lettre, something Pallandre protested was not the regiment’s business.51 They then took their complaint to the Electors who summoned Pallandre; in turn, Pallandre explained that he had not read the pamphlet before distributing it to the hawkers and, as soon as he was informed of the rumours in the Café, he stopped the sale as it was a principle of his to contribute to public order. The Electors told him to be careful but refused to proceed against him. On 14 January 1790, seemingly in connection with the Lettre affair, the patriot Francaud challenged Pallandre to a duel.52 The ‘Raynal’ pamphlet was not forgotten and would come up at his trial during the Terror. The Electors tried to assert their jurisdiction over printing: they, not the crowds or the National Guard, were the body that should censor, and consequently moved to support Pallandre by giving him a contract to print the pamphlet Suite de réflexion sur la nouvelle division du royaume by Rabaut Saint-Etienne, a member of the National Assembly and of its Committee on the Constitution. Impressed with this pamphlet, they commissioned its printing and gave the job to Pallandre because of his actions and the ‘hassle’ (‘tracasseries’) that the Raynal pamphlet had caused him.53 This did not, however, stop his National Guard company from taking up the affair of the Raynal pamphlet on 31 January, 1790, when Pallandre was obliged to read out loud a memorandum justifying his conduct. We do not have a copy of the memorandum, but he was an old hand at self-justification and he knew to infuse his arguments with the discourse of a good patriot. He later asked how he could be in trouble for selling a work that the Ninety Electors had approved? Here was the heart of the issue. Who decided? He also included in his defence evidence that he, as a good patriot, took on a censorship role himself: when asked to print a pamphlet that defended privilege, La Déclaration de l’ordre de la noblesse de la Sénéchaussée de Toulouse, he had not only refused, but had denounced it to his National Guard company. Never a stickler for consistency, Pallandre seems to have had no trouble denying the role of the National Guard in censorship matters and at the same time acknowledging its authority by going to them to denounce a pamphlet.54 Later in the spring of 1790, after the Bordelais held elections for the new municipal government, Pallandre was finding life rocky. On a daily basis he had to weigh the consequences of opting for any of the printing and pamphlet selling options available to him and consider the reactions of his friends, the constituted authorities and the unofficial censorship forces of the Club National and National Guard. These kinds of calculations were not new to him as he had, after all, been making such calls for almost twenty years, but the power shifts of the Revolution were not making things easier. The Bordeaux guilds discussed political pamphlets at their meetings and wondered to whom to turn to demand the suppression of those they considered counter-revolutionary. In June 1790, to the dismay of the municipality, the locksmiths went to the Club National with their complaint. However, in the same month, the wigmakers and bakers denounced the pamphlets they regarded as counter-revolutionary to the municipality, eliciting the latter’s praise for recognizing its authority in the matter.55 On 5 May 1790, Pallandre’s company ousted him from his captain’s position. Although we do not have much information about this incident, Pallandre blamed it on ‘vague rumours and calumnious assertions’, and, only with the strong support of the colonel of the regiment, who attended a meeting and used his influence, was he able to get his company to reintegrate him.56 True to form, Pallandre was in trouble, and sought protectors to extricate him, but his days of being able to rely on protectors were numbered. In May 1790, Pallandre was again in the dock defending himself for selling the incendiary pamphlet L’Ami des campagnes et des faubourgs and, because the trial dossier survives, we can compare proceedings in this case with those in 1775 over the pamphlet L’Ombre de Louis XV. The narrative of the events is as follows. On 1 May 1790, the policeman Jean-Baptiste Lagarde was working in the City Hall when a large number of people appeared dragging along a man and two women hawkers whom they had discovered selling an inflammatory pamphlet criticizing the decisions of the National Assembly.57 On interrogation, the stammering women at first resisted providing Pallandre’s name as the supplier but, when threatened with arrest, did so. The police report and subsequent testimony reveal that a printing worker named Dupont had been denouncing L’Ami des campagnes at the Café National and, prompted by those assembled in the club, he sought out the hawker who, by her own account, was sitting on the rocks outside the Stock Exchange when a man (Dupont) approached her requesting the pamphlet and, after she pulled it out of her apron, gave a signal to a waiting crowd to surround her. Gabriel Lejeune, a 58-year-old master writer testified that when walking down the cours du Chapeau Rouge he saw the crowd surrounding the hawker. Lejeune agreed that the pamphlet was seditious but feared for the frightened woman and put her in a carriage to be conducted to the City Hall. A large crowd of patriots surrounded the carriage in what must have been a loud disruptive procession all the way across town to the City Hall where, in a tumultuous scene, they demanded justice. On route, they passed Pallandre’s shop on the Place St Projet and the woman yelled out from the window that ‘tout était perdu’, blaming him for her arrest, a detail that was confirmed by more than one witness. Witness testimony points to Pallandre’s high profile and controversial status in Bordeaux. His ongoing struggles with some more radical political leaders are evident. In the Café that day was Desfieux, who knew Pallandre well for having been among those who had denounced him to his regiment for selling Lettre d’Abbé Raynal. Unsurprisingly, Desfieux deemed L’Ami des campagnes seditious. The Raynal pamphlet was also on the mind of another witness, Pierre Vechère Brive. For both men, Pallandre’s selling of what they deemed counter-revolutionary pamphlets was a continuing and unresolved issue. The printing worker Dupont was proud to testify that he was the first to denounce the pamphlet, but, at the same time, expressed concern that he had started something that had got out of control. He was at pains to clarify that he did not want Pallandre and the hawkers to suffer a ‘rigorous’ punishment from the assembled crowd. The idea that the crowd would decide the punishment was immediately and flatly rejected by the policeman in charge who informed Dupont, in no uncertain terms, that it was not the assembled crowd that would decide the matter but rather the municipality. The municipality—the solidly middle-class government that ruled Bordeaux for the next year—took the case seriously.58 The lead figure was the city attorney Raymond Barennes, a liberal-minded man who had been the censor of Bordeaux’s daily paper, the Journal de Guienne, before 1789. He had the help of several other elected members, including Pierre Desmirail and Martignac, no strangers to book trade and censorship issues, the first, the son-in-law of the Bordeaux printer Simon Lacourt, and the second, the former book trade inspector in Bordeaux. It fell to these men to deal with the complicated issue of reconciling freedom of the press and continued censorship in Bordeaux, in a period described by Forrest as ‘the high point of action by town councils, the last period of municipal initiative independent of a higher authority’.59 Barennes, a disciple of Rousseau, who believed in the inherent goodness of men, seems to have tried valiantly to break with the old regime and to introduce a new liberal era into Bordeaux political life. But on 8 May 1790, he made the decision to prosecute Pallandre and others for distributing L’Ami des campagnes, and outlined his position to his colleagues in the municipality.60 He began by reporting on the large crowd that greeted him at City Hall, then described the pamphlet’s contents as a series of unfounded and outrageous criticisms of the National Assembly by an author who believed that the representatives of the nation had gone way beyond their mandate. At the end of his critique he noted that the National Assembly did not need to fear such absurd and contradictory texts and commended it for taking the high road and simply disdaining them. But Barennes did not follow up this line of argument by saying the same should be done in Bordeaux. Rather, he veered off in a different direction and claimed that the respect the municipality owed to public opinion did not allow it to keep silent. Here in Bordeaux they needed to act. Both he and his fellow municipal officers thought that Bordeaux had its own path to forge and they were not taking their cues from Paris. Barennes directly addressed the ideal of freedom of the press saying that the ‘henchmen of despotism’ will raise an objection to the prosecution because of the decree on freedom of the press, but they must not confuse la licence with la liberté. Liberty, he insisted, is a friend of the laws and it honours and maintains them, while licence is liberty’s enemy and degrades and destroys laws. Probably because of the threatening crowds, the argument Barennes made to censor was a democratic one: the people demanded it. Pallandre was interrogated on 11 June and denied selling the brochure despite being told of the hawkers’ testimony against him. The hawker, he said, could have been addressing any number of people when she yelled out to him in front of his shop which was full of people at that time on a mail day. Asked if he did not know better than to break the laws that forbid selling works that could excite people’s minds and trouble public order, he replied that he was full of zeal for the new constitution and consequently made it a rule to sell only works that supported the Revolution. Interrogators pressured him to admit that he was lying, citing previous instances where he had been in trouble for selling counter-revolutionary pamphlets. In the end, the Electors did not pursue the case and the outcome was similar to that of 1775: there was much evidence against him, but an entourage of protectors kept conviction at bay. Following typical eighteenth-century practice, the judges in 1775 and 1790 began by determining if the text in question was subversive and, in both these cases, they decided in the affirmative: Buhan concluding that L’Ombre de Louis XV violated the majesty of the throne and undermined respect for the king and religion, and Barennes that L’Ami des campagnes disrespected the National Assembly and provoked dangerous disorder. In both these cases, once these pamphlets were deemed dangerous, the judges conducted trials to determine who was guilty of writing, printing or distributing them. The text was first on trial so to speak, and the printers and booksellers were treated as accomplices in its distribution. In both trials the witnesses expressed indignation at Pallandre’s crimes but there were important differences: those riding on the boat from Agen in 1775 clearly knew what they were supposed to say to the police about a pamphlet criticizing the king and were mainly concerned to protect themselves. The men in the Café National in 1790 were proudly vaunting their patriotism by denouncing Pallandre.61 Behind the rhetoric one can detect something about power: the L’Ombre case in 1775 reveals a reluctance in government circles to punish major media figures for spreading scandalous pamphlets about the king in the years just following the disruptions of the Maupeou coup which had accustomed the reading public in the south-west and elsewhere to anti-ministerial pamphlet literature. In the early Revolution, the members of the newly elected municipality tried to respect freedom of the press but were forced to respond to crowd pressure. In both cases the decisive forces were located outside the constituted authorities, in the wider public. Pallandre remained a target. His National Guard unit was uneasy about him.62 On 1 August 1790, his company met again to discuss his behaviour and, this time, his fellow guardsmen argued amongst themselves over Pallandre’s comments. Once again, Pallandre was exonerated and the company gave him a vote of confidence. However, his shop remained a target of criticism. On 26 May 1791, Bernadau denounced him to the local Jacobin Club claiming that Pallandre’s shop was the centre of aristocratic reaction in Bordeaux where ‘conciliabules aristocratiques’ gathered and mocked patriots, where all the pamphlets of the ci-devants (former nobles and refractory clergy) were sold. For Bernadau, men should have the freedom to express their opinions, but they must also love their country and obey the law.63 Men who were publicly disdainful of the Revolution gathered in Pallandre’s shop and reading room. Sometime later, the Club sent a deputation of armed men to Pallandre’s shop to declare that the meetings in his shop shocked patriots and to ask him to put an end to them.64 In December 1791, while advocating the arrest of another printer for working for aristocrats, Bernadau said it would be desirable if the Pallandre brothers were arrested too, because they were ‘utter rogues harbored by the aristocrats’ (‘fieffés coquins que recèle le Bagne aristocratique’).65 III It is not just one witness that accuses you, it is all Bordeaux. All the residents of this city declare that you are an aristocrat. Trial Verdict, 1794 If Pallandre was vulnerable in the first years of the Revolution, he was utterly defenceless during the Terror when the judges focused on his shop being a counter-revolutionary space that was frequented by ‘aristocrats’.66 The Terror began in Bordeaux in October 1793; it claimed the lives of 301 men and women and 5000 more were jailed.67 Pallandre was arrested and called before the Commission Militaire, the body that ran the Terror in Bordeaux, and asked to defend himself. In his interrogation, on 12 May 1794 (23 floréal Year II), the questions flowed quickly and Pallandre’s responses did not seem at all adequate. Did he have a certificate of good conduct (carte de civisme) from his Section? No, he said: the newly renamed Section Révolutionnaire had not completed its investigation of him. Why had he taken so long to appear before the committee? He had been unaware of the warrant launched against him because he had been sick for three months. What were his political opinions since the beginning of the Revolution? In reply to this question, Pallandre put his talents to good use and described his full-fledged support for the Revolution: he had viewed the Revolution with the greatest pleasure, having desired the happy changes it brought for a long time. He had desired it even the more ardently because he was a follower of the principles of the philosophes, having been under their [influence] and been their printer since the age of 20 and a victim of despotism in the old régime.68 Pallandre knew, of course, that these were the views that the men of the Terror wanted printers to hold: followers of the philosophes who were hostile to the values of the old regime and had been its victims. The interrogators expressed surprise that someone with these principles could allow men known publicly to be bad citizens to gather in his shop. Pallandre denied that such groups met there: all sorts of citizens were subscribers to the cabinet that he had been running for years. Dismissing his denial, the interrogators pressed harder. Was his shop not a place where enemies of the Revolution gathered? Could he really deny that it was a refuge for bad citizens or that members of the Jacobin Club had to break up an assembly in his shop? Pallandre replied that he never considered his clients to be enemies of the Revolution: they were simply subscribers to his cabinet, there to read the newspapers, and did not make their political opinions known. It was true that ‘armed citizens’ came one day saying that they were deputies from the Club to inform him that the meetings that took place in his shop shocked patriots. He had co-operated with them and told subscribers to go away and never come back. Pallandre denied being a federalist, a member of a monarchial club, or of signing the Pétition des Cordeliers (which would have indicated his support for refractory priests).69 When queried about the newspapers he provided in his shop and about selling the pamphlet entitled L’Ami des campagnes, Pallandre’s responses were inadequate. Most damningly, when asked the names of citizens who regularly frequented his shop, he had to confess that his memory was not up to this task. Three men testified against Pallandre and two of these can be identified. One was Bernard Latreille, a man who appeared in Le Livre Rouge, a later listing of ‘terrorists’ in Bordeaux, as an ‘atrocious bloodthirsty man’ who signed 100 denunciations.70 Latreille testified that Pallandre’s shop was the gathering place for aristocrats who met there daily and, when he passed by there, he was insulted in the presence of Pallandre because he was a Club National member and patriot. Also denouncing Pallandre was Guillaume Vinatier, another frequent denunciator in the Terror. He testified indignantly to Pallandre’s support for aristocrats and that Pallandre had fought a duel with a true patriot who objected to Pallandre’s position. Secondly, Vinatier informed the judges about Pallandre’s earlier arrest for selling L’Amis des campagnes. Thirdly, he testified that Pallandre had joined with vocal opponents of the Civil Constitution of the Clergy.71 Finally, as if that were not enough, Vinatier described how patriots from the Jacobin Club descended on Pallandre’s shop to chase out aristocrats and met with insults from Pallandre and a refusal of his clients to disperse until violence was employed. Latreille and Vinatier were well-known denunciators in Bordeaux who knew Pallandre well and were formidable opponents in June 1794. Pallandre refused to provide the names of those who frequented his shop, but we can identify five of them, presumably Pallandre’s friends, all of whom were vocal opponents of the Revolution. Jean Groc was a former president of the Cour des Aides who had apparently rashly claimed within earshot of a witness that he would not be in hiding long because in fifteen days the English would be there. Further accusations against him were that he encouraged his son to emigrate and that he mocked the hungry by saying they need not worry about starving because they had their liberty. He was condemned to death on 30 June 1794. Jean Serre was a professor of law accused of having relations with ‘suspected enemies’. Detained since 9 January 1794, he was sentenced to death on 27 June 1794 for having shown himself to be ‘a fervent aristocrat and at the head of the ‘gatherings attacking liberty’ (‘conciliabules liberticides’) that were held at Pallandre’s and for having fought good patriots.72 Arrouch was yet another regular at Pallandre’s and a well-known émigré who mocked patriots. As early as October 1793, the Committee of Surveillance discussed arresting the whole Arrouch family because a son had emigrated.73 Another regular in this shop was Dom Carrière, a Benedictine monk and local historian who had published with Pallandre and who was accused of associating with ‘those suspected on account of their opinions’(‘gens suspects à cause de leurs opinions’).74 Finally, Jean Gauvry the secretary of Dudon, the former attorney-general of the Parlement of Bordeaux who had lost his job with the abolition of the Parlement. He was convicted of being an aristocrat, an enemy of the Revolution, and of being overheard at Pallandre’s wishing for counter-revolution. Apparently, he could not hide his hatred for liberty and had the audacity to say publicly he would not be happy until all National Guard uniforms were burned in a public place.75 Pallandre belonged to a group that had actively opposed the direction of the Revolution for a long time. The acts described here were not recent. After September 1793, sane men were not yelling out that they wanted to see National Guard uniforms burned, predicting that the English would invade, mocking patriots who had discovered that liberty did not bring food, refusing to be disband until physically beaten and so on. What is described here are the actions and comments of men who were early supporters of the Revolution but who rapidly became disillusioned. These men had joined the National Guard, contributed money, or participated in their sections, but only for a while, and then became vigorous opponents. They clearly believed they could speak their minds, articulate these counter-revolutionary views and did not imagine that this behaviour would come back to haunt them. Unfortunately for Pallandre, June 1794 was a bad time to be in Bordeaux’s crowded jails as this was when Marc-Antoine Jullien, Robespierre’s young, ideologically driven envoy, intensified the Terror there, believing that Bordeaux was rife with egoism. On 16 June, the Commission militaire convicted Pallandre, noting that seemingly the whole of Bordeaux accused him. The judges were convinced that he was an aristocrat, that he sold libelles, that aristocrats gathered in his boutique and in his cabinet, and that Pallandre had done all that was in his power to cause harm to the Revolution. The tribunal, they said, ‘did not pardon aristocrats’. Pallandre had nothing to say. Later that day he was loaded onto a cart that made its way to the guillotine at place de la Révolution (today’s place Gambetta). Over his life, Pallandre had found defenders to help him in many battles: against the Guild, the police and in the courts. With ‘all of Bordeaux’ against him in the Year II he was in a tough spot: his supporters themselves were under attack and no longer able to help him. IV Pallandre was just one of hundreds of ancien régime printers and booksellers whose careers were disrupted by the Revolution, many of whom found themselves in prison. Further research is needed into the political and social factors influencing the decisions of printers and booksellers, all of whom were deeply integrated into the political landscapes of their towns and experienced increased vulnerability because of the power shifts of the French Revolution. In Bordeaux, two of Pallandre’s colleagues were guillotined, Simon Lacourt for printing for the Federalists and Jean-Baptiste Cavazza for counter-revolutionary views, and another five were arrested.76 In many other towns printers and booksellers found themselves jailed, or worse: Arras, Chartres, Dijon, Montpellier, Lyon, Nîmes, Avignon, Rennes and Metz, just to name a few. Two conclusions can be drawn from our case study of the career of Antoine-Arnaud Pallandre. First, the critical role his entourage played at every turn: both before and after 1789 his patrons helped him overcome numerous encounters with the judicial authorities. Pallandre’s story reinforces two important conclusions in Walton’s work: first, the widely held view among eighteenth-century men and women that there should be limits placed on freedom of the press and second, that there were high levels of repression of speech long before the Terror. But this case study also shows that while notions of calumny and honour played a role, so too did the very real political views of Pallandre’s entourage which forced a censorship role on municipal leaders. After the promulgation of the Declaration of the Rights of Man, municipal leaders entertained the idea of treating erroneous ideas with simple disdain and praised the National Assembly for showing such disdain. However, they also knew that Bordeaux’s print culture, if left to its own devices, would be heavily impregnated with some very conservative views, in part, because of the close ties between the city’s printers and booksellers and the former judicial and clerical elites. They faced the reality that the clubs, the National Guards and the crowds believed these dissenting ideas were incompatible with the respect due to the Revolution. Barennes, whose admiration for Rousseau might be relevant here, recognized prevailing democratic notions of censorship when he claimed that the people of Bordeaux expected the municipality to act to protect them and advocated arresting Pallandre and banning L’Ami des campagnes early in 1790. Exploring Pallandre’s entourage also advances our understanding of the Revolution in Bordeaux. Historians of Bordeaux downplay the significance of monarchist, aristocratic and royalist opposition in Bordeaux in the early years of the Revolution and note the success with which the commercial elite in the town seized power and provided stable revolutionary government until the Federalist Revolt in the summer of 1793.77 This foray into the print culture of the Revolution in Bordeaux and into Pallandre’s entourage complicates that picture somewhat.78 Pallandre and his clients were a readily identifiable group of monarchists whose activities were closely monitored by patriots from early in the Revolution. We know there were sites of monarchist gatherings in the town: at the theatre where they cried out ‘Vive le roi’ at a performance, at the club, the Amis de la Paix; at the botanical garden near the cemetery where Jacobins performed ‘chasses républicaines’ from time to time to break them up; and later, in August 1793, when a huge number of younger opponents of the Convention participated in the meetings of the Société de la Jeunesse Bordelaise at the edge of town at Belleville.79 This article has shown that Pallandre’s shop on the Place St Projet was another of these sites. Those who frequented the world of the parlements and the other courts continued to express their opposition as did another group with close ties to the town’s printers, the clergy, many of whom in Bordeaux refused to swear an oath to the Revolution’s new religious policy, the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Many of these ‘aristocrats’ made up the entourage that had supported Pallandre for almost two decades. Men who believed that the Revolution had gone too far by January 1790 found sanctuary and comradeship in Pallandre’s shop, and their ideas were represented in the pamphlets he sold. These were confident men who were used to influencing the print culture of Bordeaux and they constituted a vocal and tenacious part of its political landscape. Their grip on some members of the media endured well into the Revolution. Bordeaux republicans were aware of their influence and fought back. It was not radical texts that scared the Bordeaux municipal government away from implementing freedom of the press, but rather the fear that counter-revolutionary pamphlets would undermine their work and provoke the crowd. Secondly, this case study shows that during the Revolution, both for the government and in the public mind, printers and booksellers became prominent players—highly influential and potentially dangerous people—whose views mattered. In the Terror, Pallandre’s personal views were put on trial. Did he allow aristocrats to congregate in his shop and criticize the Revolution? Was he or was he not an aristocrat? Did he sell libelles? Texts were just part of the evidence of his crime. He himself posed a danger to the Revolution. Despite the theatre in all his trials, only in the Terror did the government seriously punish him. In 1794, he was on trial for selling libelles but also for what he believed, a radical break from ancien régime censorship trials when printers were not put on trial for their ideological views. Once the evidence was against him, the sort of indulgence shown him in 1775 and 1790 was not permissible. Footnotes * Jane McLeod is Associate Professor of History at Brock University, Montreal, and may be contacted at jmcleod@brocku.ca. Renée Girard received her PhD in History from McGill University, St. Catharines, Ontario and may be contacted at renee.girard@mail.mcgill.ca. The authors would like to acknowledge the funding provided by Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada for this article and the assistance of Jennifer Walski and Anne de Mathan. 1 A[rchives] d[épartementales de la] G[ironde], 12 B 352; C 3313, 3315. 2 See the works of R. Darnton, S. Burrows and S. Maza. 3 François Richard (1724–1799), king’s and bishop’s printer and a member of a long-serving dynasty in Cahors. B[ibliothèque] n[ationale], FF 21832; Roche sold the pamphlets in Toulouse and Agen (ADG, 12B 352). 4 L. Desgraves, Dictionnaire des imprimeurs, libraires et relieurs de Bordeaux et de la Gironde (Baden-Baden, 1995), 234–6. A[rchives] d[épartementales de la] H[aute] G[aronne], 1B 1760, 24 July 1776. 5 J. McLeod, Licensing Loyalty: Printers, Patrons and the State in Early Modern France (University Park, 2011). 6 ADHG, 1B 1755; 1B 1759–60, 1765. 7 H. Gough, The Newspaper Press and the French Revolution (Chicago, 1988), 83–117; Mellot, Queval and Sarrazin. ‘La liberté et la mort? Vues sur les métiers du livre parisiens à l’époque révolutionnaire’, Revue de la Bibliothèque Nationale, (1993), 76–85; C. Hesse, Publishing and Cultural Politics in Revolutionary Paris, 1789–1810 (Berkeley, 1991), and ‘The Dilemmas of Republican Publishing, 1793–1799’, in Publishing and Readership in Revolutionary France and America, ed. C. Armbruster (Westport, CT, 1993), 61–7; J. Popkin, Revolutionary News: The Press in France, 1789–1799 (Durham, NC, 1990), 74–6; F. Barbier, ‘Livre et Révolution: théorie et pratiques de la législation (1789–1811)’, Revue du Nord, (1989), 209–25; P. Sorel, La Révolution du livre et de la presse en Bretagne (1780–1830) (Rennes, 2004), 56–68; G. Feyel, L’Imprimerie à Chartres (Chartres, 2007), 255–61; J. McLeod, ‘Evolving Loyalties: A Provincial Printer in Revolutionary Bordeaux’, Mémoires du Livre/Studies in Book Culture, 2 (2010); J. McLeod and R. Girard, ‘Religious books, the French Revolution and the printer Jean-Baptiste Collignon in Metz’, Mémoires du Livre/ Studies in Book Culture, 6 (2015) https://www.erudit.org. 8 Hesse, Publishing and Cultural Politics. 9 C. Walton, Policing Public Opinion in the French Revolution (New York, 2009). 10 A. Pettegree, Reformation and the Culture of Persuasion (Cambridge, 2005), 163. 11 A Juger en la cour consulaire de cette ville pour Paul-Anne Pallandre, Libraire de Bordeaux contre Antoine Pallandre son frère aîné, aussi Libraire de ladite Ville (Bordeaux: Séjourné, 1780). B[ibliothèque] m[unicipale de] B[ordeau]x 12 AMBx, GG 187, 31 May 1750; contrat de mariage, ADG Notary Dubos, 23 May 1750. AMBx BB 130. 13 ADG C 3771. 14 ADG C 3309, 3310, 3313, 3314 and C 296; AMBx BB 177, 17 Jan, 1778; A Juger en la cour consulaire. 15 ADG C 3309; Archives historiques,1: 279–80. Our thanks to Phillippe Savignac for sending Jehan Duroy’s contrat de marriage, ADG Notary Bouan, 21 Sept. 1752; W. Doyle, The Parlement of Bordeaux at the End of the Old Regime, 1771–1790 (London, 1974), 17, 47–8, 86, 118, 162, 172. 16 R. Granderoute, Dictionnaire des journaux, 1600–1789. http://dictionnaire-journaux.gazettes18e.fr/journal/0621-liris-de-guyenne; ADG C 3313, C 61; L. Desgraves, La Presse à Bordeaux: XVIe-XVIIIesiècles (Bordeaux, 1996), 100–101, N. Rattner Gelbart, Feminine and Opposition Journalism in Old Regime France: Le Journal des Dames (Berkeley, 1987), 27–8, 208–9. 17 A. Sevin, Le Défenseur du Roi: Raymond de Seze (1748–1828) (Paris, 1936), 19–59. 18 Doyle, The Parlement, 144–58. 19 Contrat de mariage ADG notary Séjourné 20 Apr. 1758. ADG 2B 78. AMBx BB 137; ADG C 301, 3451; Mémoire pour Sieur Arnaud-Antoine Pallandre ainé, Libraire juré . . . Contre Sieur François Pelusset, ancien Procureur, à l’Hôtel de Ville, 1783 (BMBx, D 71957). 20 Pelusset sold plays and printing equipment to Pallandre for 20,000 livres. Vente SSP, 12 June 1779 registered 29 November 1783, ADG QB 206, 50. 21 BN FF 21937, Travail de Mgr. le Garde des Sceaux. 22 ADG 12B 331, 25 Jan. 1767. 23 Testament, A[rchives] N[ationales] notary Arnoult, 7 July 1780 and with the same notary Inventaire après décès, 4 Aug. 1780; Quittance, 19 Aug. 1780 (All MC/ET/LXII/585); Constitution de rente, 18 Feb. 1766 MC/ET/CXIII/428–429; [A]rchives [D]épartementales des [Y]velines, E3204. 24 Doyle, The Parlement, 144–76. 25 P. Butel, Les Dynasties bordelaises de Colbert à Chaban (Paris, 1991), 145–57. 26 ADY, E 3204. 27 ADY, E 2254, 3201–3216; A Juger en la Cour consulaire. 28 Dépôt de pièces, ADG, Notary Verdelet, 2 Jan.1779. 29 ADY, E 3240. 30 K. Loiselle, Brotherly Love, Freemasonry and Male Friendship in Enlightenment France (Ithaca, 2014), 5–7; Bernadau, ‘Tablettes contemporaines historiques’, BMBx, Ms. 713. 31 Contrat de marriage, ADG Notary Faugas, 16 March 1781; Dépôt, ADG Notary Dufaut, 29 Nov. 1786; AMBx GG 424, 25 Mar. 1781. 32 L. Desgraves, ‘Le Livre et la lecture à la veille de la Révolution’, L’Aquitaine aux XVI-XVIIIesiècles: institutions et culture (Bordeaux, 1992), 471. 33 Inventaire, ADG 1Q 1011. 34 Bernadau, 17 September 1788. ‘A force de vendre des pamphlets, le corsaire Pallandre ainé a gagné de quoi acheter un bien de 36,000 livres qu’il a payé comptant. Une fortune aussi rapide n’a rien d’étonnant, si l’on songe que ce libraire est le seul en vogue pour les nouveautés…’ 35 Obligation, ADG Notary Baron, 27 Apr. 1789. E. Labadie, Notices biographiques sur les imprimeurs et libraires bordelaise des XVI, XVII et XVIII siècles (Bordeaux, 1900). 36 Bernadau, 13 Jan.1788. 37 Bernadau, 13 Jan. 1788; 16 Jan. 1788; 23 June 1788. 38 Bernadau, 12 Feb. 1788. It is not clear which Pallandre brother this was. 39 Bernadau, 9 Aug.1788. 40 Bernadau, 20 Aug.1788; Maza, Private Lives, 295–311. 41 Bernadau, 22 Aug. 1788. 42 Bernadau, 17 Sept. 1788. Bought a country estate (Vente, ADG 2E 1203, 28 Apr. 1790). 43 Bernadau, 20 Oct. 1788. 44 Bernadau, 17–18 July 1789; AMBx, Période Révolutionnaire, D 227. 45 A. Forrest, Society and Politics in Revolutionary Bordeaux (Oxford, 1975), 40–4 and R. Brace, Bordeaux and the Gironde, 1789–1794 (Ithaca, 1947). 46 Bernadau, 12 October1789 ; Quand aurons-nous du pain: vous dormez, Parisiens, & vous manquez de pain!; Brace, Bordeaux and the Gironde, 40. 47 M. L’Héritier, Liberté, 1789–1790: les Girondins, Bordeaux, et la Révolution Française (Paris, 1947). 48 L’Héritier, Liberté, 32; Walton, Policing Public Opinion. 49 ADG 5L bis 30. AMBx D 219. 50 Seat of the Club National, earlier the Café des Étrangers, then Club du Café National and then Club National (Forrest, Society and Politics, 63). 51 A. De Mathan, Mémoires de la Terreur (Bordeaux, 2004), 64–5. 52 Bernadau, 14 Jan. 1790. 53 AM D 219 Procés-verbaux de l’Assemblée des 90 Electeurs, 26 Jan. 1790. 54 ADG 5Lbis 30. 55 AMBx, Registre de Déliberations 86, 22 and 23 June 1790; L’Héritier, Liberté, 218–9. 56 ADG 5Lbis 30. 57 ADG 12B 388, AMBx I 38. 58 L’Héritier, Liberté, 186–22; J. Barennes, ‘Le Girondin Barennes (1739–1800)’, Annales historiques de la Révolution française (1935), 205–17, 325–39, 416–59. 59 Forrest, Society and Politics, 46. 60 ADG 12B 388; Walton, Policing Public Opinion, 97–136. 61 T. Tackett, ‘Dénoncer au début de la Révolution. Le cas de Bordeaux, 1791–1793’, Annales historiques de la Révolution française, 392 (2018), 3–29. 62 ADG 5Lbis 30. 63 AMBx I 89, 26 May 1791. 64 ADG 5Lbis 30. 65 Bernadau, Tablettes, 2 Dec. 1791. After the collapse of the monarchy, Pallandre’s business seems to have floundered but it is difficult to say. Testament, ADG Notary, Brun, 10 Sept. 1792, opened Floréal 13, Year III; AMBx, Roger Brouillard Notes. He wrote a feisty letter on 28 June 1793 to explain why he could not pay his contribution patriotique. His own and his wife’s illness had been long and ruinous and it was public knowledge that his commerce was ‘completely wrecked’ and that he could no longer pay the rent, let alone pay the tax. 66 ADG 5Lbis 30. A. De Mathan, Mémoires de la Terreur; M. Figeac and A. De Mathan, ‘Révolution et Révolutionnaires.’ Histoire des Bordelais, 1 (2002). 67 ADG 13L 14, Registre de dénonciations. He may have been arrested then as there is reference to Pallandre and his wife in the Prison de la Commune on 9 October 1793, but it is not clear if this was Antoine or his brother Paul. ADG 13L 32, Listes collectives de détenus dans les Prisons de Bordeaux. 68 ADG 5Lbis 30. ‘Qu’il a vu la révolution avec le plus grand plaisir désirant depuis longtemps, l’heureux changement qui s’est opéré et qu’il la désirait d’autant plus ardemment qu’il était dans les principes des vrais philosophes, ayant été sous leurs auspices? et étant leur imprimeur depuis l’âge de 20 ans, en outre, ayant été victime de (crossed out: son dévouement à la philosophie) du despotisme de l’ancien régime.’ 69 ADG 13L 31; M. Figeac, Destins de la noblesse bordelaise (1770–1830) (Paris, 2016), 354–5. 70 On the Livres Rouges: www.academie-montesquieu.fr/le-livre-rouge-de-la-terreur-par- michel-colle-seance-du-7-avril-2014/. 71 ADG 5Lbis 30. 72 ADG 13L 20 and 5Lbis 34. 73 ADG 5Lbis 4. 74 ADG 13L 19. 75 ADG 5Lbis 19. L’Héritier, Liberté, 168–72. 76 J. McLeod, ‘Evolving Loyalties’; ADG 5Lbis 10 (Cavazza); ADG 13L14, 13L28 (Pierre Phillippot); ADG 13L 32 (Pierre Albespy and Guillaume Bergeret); ADG 13L 31(Paul Pallandre); Bernadau, Tablettes, 2 Dec. 1791(Pierre Beaume). 77 P. Hanson, The Jacobin Republic Under Fire: The Federalist Revolt in the French Revolution (University Park, 2013), 125–31. 78 As does S. Auerbach from a different angle in ‘Politics, protest, and violence in revolutionary Bordeaux, 1789–1794’, Proceedings of the Western Society for French History, 37 (2009), 149–61. 79 De Mathan, Mémoires, 133–70; Forrest, Society and Politics, 215–25; P. Bécamps, ‘La Société de la jeunesse bordelaise, août-septembre 1793’, Revue historique de Bordeaux (1982), 47–55. © The Author(s) 2019. Published by Oxford University Press on behalf of the Society for the Study of French History. All rights reserved. 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TI - Policing Printers and Booksellers before and after 1789: A Case Study in Bordeaux
JF - French History
DO - 10.1093/fh/crz070
DA - 2020-05-27
UR - https://www.deepdyve.com/lp/oxford-university-press/policing-printers-and-booksellers-before-and-after-1789-a-case-study-fCW0YxbWrZ
SP - 1
VL - Advance Article
IS - 
DP - DeepDyve
ER -