Gallery of the Contemporary Insanities

GALLERY OF THE CONTEMPORARY

INSANITIES

A Historical Analysis of Political Caricatures in the French Satirical Journal La Charge (1832–1834)

Sarah Camille Hervé

University of Oslo

Faculty of Humanities

Department of Philosophy, Classics, History of Art and Ideas

Ph.D. Thesis, 2020

© Sarah Camille Hervé, 2020

Gallery of the Contemporary Insanities. A Historical Analysis of Political Caricatures in the French Satirical Journal La Charge (1832–1834)

Acknowledgements

There are many I would like to thank for helping me through the stimulating, interesting, sometimes difficult and exhausting, process of writing this thesis. First and foremost, I would like to thank my supervisor, Professor Ellen Krefting, for her guidance, patience and encouragement, and for always showing genuine dedication and interest in my work. I want to thank my co-supervisor, Professor Ségolène Le Men, for expert advice and support. As an extension to that, I would like to thank the Centre d’Étude de l’Écriture et de l’Image (CEEI). This project would have been impossible without the support of the Faculty of Humanities and the Department of Philosophy, Classics, History of Art and Ideas at the University of Oslo. I would like to extend my thanks to my colleagues at History of Ideas for their inspiration and support. Especially my fellow Ph.D. candidates in History of Ideas, Emil Nicklas Johnsen, Thomas Brodahl, Joel Johansson, Haakon Bekeng-Flemmen and Francesca Canepuccia, as well as my colleague from Philosophy Hilde Vilje, deserve thanks for their wonderful collaboration and for all the helpful conversations we have had. I also want to thank Professor Espen Schaanning for leading the PhD seminars, which were especially helpful to me. I wish to thank Fabrice Erre for sending me his thesis and for very kindly providing me with precious advices and recommendations on working with satirical journals. I would also like to thank Jean-Didier Wagneur from the Bibliothèque nationale de France for helping me with information on La Charge. Thank you to Paul Ireland and to my friend Miriam Aurora Hammeren Pedersen for proofreading the thesis. I want to thank my wonderful parents and sister Lina for their unconditional support and love. I would also like to thank my grandmother and Toche for making it possible for me to stay in Paris whenever I needed it. Thank you to Rosine for being one of my most important inspiration in life. Last, but certainly not least, Isak, for being my biggest supporter and motivator during these three years. Thank you for always being more than willing to help me, to encourage me and to comfort me.

Oslo, 1 September 2020 Sarah Camille Hervé

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. Introduction and Presentation of Subject Thesis ...... 1 1.1 The July Monarchy and the Press. A Chronology of the Early 1830s: the July Revolution, the Press, the Satirical Press, 1832: the Republican Threat ...... 3 1.2 La Charge ...... 34 1.3 Thesis Question ...... 47 1.4 Thesis Structure ...... 48 2. Theory and Methodology ...... 50 2.1 Form: What is a Caricature? ...... 51 2.2 A New Genre ...... 52 2.3 Caricatures and text ...... 54 2.4 Carnivalesque ...... 56 2.5 Content: Symbols ...... 59 2.6 Conceptual History and Symbols ...... 62 2.7 Political Caricatures ...... 66 2.8 Function: Speech Act Theory, Caricature and its Contexts ...... 69 3. The Field of Ridicule: a Battle of Symbols ...... 75 3.1 Caricatures and Symbols ...... 76 3.2 Louis-Philippe’s Emblems ...... 78 3.3 The Eagle and the Coq Gaulois ...... 82 3.4 The Coq Gaulois in the Caricature Debate ...... 88 3.5 The “Tricolore” ...... 94 3.6 The Female Allegory ...... 96 3.7 Coat of Arms ...... 106 3.8 The Pear and the Brioche ...... 115 3.9 Conclusion ...... 123 4. History of Extravagances: Representations of the Revolutions ...... 126 4.1 The symbols of the Revolution ...... 127 4.2 The Two Revolutions: 1789 and 1830 ...... 128 4.3 La Caricature and “Liberté” ...... 131 4.4 “Quatre-vingt-treizomanie” ...... 138 4.5 The Old Republic ...... 144

4.6 Conclusion ...... 150 5. “Pour l’Émeute, S’il Vous Plaît”: Representations of “Le Peuple” ...... 153 5.1 Le Roi-Citoyen...... 155 5.2 Michelet’s Le Peuple ...... 159 5.3 “Le Peuple” ...... 162 5.4 “Le Peuple” in La Caricature ...... 165 5.5 “Le Peuple” in La Charge...... 171 5.6 The Physiology of the Savage Working-Class Man ...... 177 5.7 The Bousingot ...... 181 5.8 Conclusion ...... 183 6. A Virtuous Indignation: Caricatures and the Parisian Public Spaces ...... 186 6.1 The Public Sphere ...... 187 6.2 Caricature and the Streets of Paris ...... 189 6.3 Charles Philipon and the Public Sphere ...... 191 6.4 The Street Images ...... 193 6.5 The “gamin de Paris” ...... 200 6.6 La Charge and the Press ...... 206 6.7 A Devilish Occupation ...... 214 6.8 La Charge’s Censorship Strategy ...... 217 6.9 Conclusion ...... 224 7. “Les Folies Contemporaines”: From Politics to Culture ...... 226 7.1 The Romantic Theatre ...... 229 7.2 Anti-Romanticism ...... 235 7.3 The Grotesque and the Immoral ...... 241 7.4 Saint-Simonians and the “Contemporary Insane” ...... 244 7.5 Museum de 1933 ...... 249 7.6 Conclusion ...... 253 8. Conclusion ...... 255 Bibliography ...... 260

1. INTRODUCTION AND PRESENTATION OF

SUBJECT THESIS

It has been common to define political caricature and satire, in the early 19th-century French context, as a republican tradition that criticised the state of power, by satirising kings and politicians.1 The first part of the July Monarchy (1830–1848) was marked by what some historians describe as a “campagne de l’irrespect” (campaign of disrespect).2 The “campaign” was primarily led by the “self-made man”,3 Charles Philipon (1800–1861), and his newspapers La Caricature and Le Charivari.4 The focus of the existing research into this period has essentially been on these journals’ use of caricatures, which opposed the constitutional monarchy. The caricature has thus, in this context, often been described as a “weapon” against the government.5 It is not surprising that research on the caricatures of this period has focused on these two journals, since they featured highly influential and popularised lithographic caricatures that challenged the monarchy and the figure of the king.6 Compared to the opposition, pro-government satirical journals were late in using caricatures, and are said to have been less effective. Yet, some of them did begin (or at least tried) to use this “weapon” against the opposition. The formerly republican newspaper Le Figaro was “purchased” by the government in 1832 and began to publish pro-government

1 Yannick Dehée, “Avant-propos”, La Caricature…Et si c’était sérieux ? Décryptage de la violence satirique, (Nouveau Monde éditions, 2015), 11. 2 Fabrice Erre, Le règne de la Poire, (Paris: Champ Vallon, 2011), 12. 3 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 19. 4 Many scholars have devoted publications to Charles Philipon and his newspapers, such as James Cuno’s Charles Philipon and La Maison Aubert (1983), David Kerr’s Caricature and Political Culture (2000), Sandy Petrey’s In the Court of the Pear King (2005), Fabrice Erre’s Le règne de la Poire (2011) and Amy W. Forbes’ The Satiric Decade (2010), to name a few. However, many others have contributed with articles and anthologies that feature Philipon’s journals. Philipon’s journals are also often present in publications on caricaturists, especially on Honoré Daumier. 5 For example, in Michelle Dixmier, Annie Duprat, Bruno Guignart, Bertrand Tillier, Quand le crayon attaque (Paris: Éditions Autrement, 2007). 6 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 11.

1 caricatures.7 Shortly afterwards, the pro-government La Charge was established. La Charge was even more eager to use caricatures than La Figaro, presenting the journal’s goal and its caricatures clearly as an “opposition to the opposition”. The journal made use of the opposition’s tool, the caricature, to fight its own battle against the opposition. What were the results of this battle by the self-proclaimed “opposition to the opposition”? Few scholars have dedicated much research to La Charge or to the pro- government use of caricatures during the July Monarchy.8 The journal has usually been dismissed as a “weird” and unpopular satirical newspaper. It is understandable that, compared to Philipon’s two journals, La Charge seems irrelevant and insignificant as a satirical paper. However, I will argue that focusing on a pro-government newspaper that promoted caricatures can give us a wider perspective on how the visual language of caricatures functioned during this crucial establishing period for the French caricature tradition. Besides focusing my research in this thesis on La Charge, I also want to examine the place of the journal in the political, mediatical and satirical context of that time. How did La Charge position itself, how did it intervene, in the polemical and political public sphere in France at the beginning of the 1830s? I will compare La Charge’s visual language to Philipon’s two journals and to La Caricature especially, not only as a battle between political opinions, but as a battle between visual symbols though the use of caricatures. La Charge’s pro- government stance is what distinguishes it from the other caricature journals of the period and what, I will argue, can contribute to the historiography of the French caricature tradition. Does the caricature only function properly when criticising a state of power? This perspective has been the leading voice in the historiography of the caricatures of this period. Yet, what can journals that do not fit this “narrative” tell us? Before I come back to these questions, I will contextualise the period in which La Charge was established.

7 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 12. 8 Howard P. Vincent is one of the earliest to write about La Charge in Daumier and his World (1968). Others who have analysed La Charge, beyond just mentioning it, are Fabrice Erre, especially in his thesis L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848 from 2007, David S. Kerr in Caricature and Political Culture, and Amy Forbes in The Satiric Decade. Robert Justin Goldstein also has some analysis of La Charge in Out of Sight: Political Censorship of the Visual Arts in Nineteenth-Century France (2012). Yet, although some of them analyse a few of La Charge’s caricatures and the journal’s intentions, I have not come across any thourough, in depth analysis of La Charge. 2

1.1 THE JULY MONARCHY AND THE PRESS: A CHRONOLOGY OF THE

EARLY 1830S

In 1833, 53 per cent of the French population was illiterate.9 Many could not access the press, either because of illiteracy or because of the cost of printed material. Yet, the beginning of the 1830s, France experienced a modernisation of the press and a great expansion in the distribution of newspapers and journals. A combination of technological improvements and more liberal press laws contributed to making it easier for new publications to flourish and to the development of the mass press during the first years of the 1830s.10 The 1789 Revolution and the subsequent revolutions in the 19th century all began with a liberation of the public sphere, which consequently led to an explosion of the printed press. 11 This was particularly the case during the July Revolution and the establishment of the July Monarchy. According to Christophe Charle, this is the first time that we can talk about a mass medium having a power that was socially measurable and politically decisive. The political decisiveness and power of the press in this period will be a central part of my thesis. What did the technological improvements consist in? An important improvement was the mechanical press that had replaced the hand press, which had been in use until the end of the 1820s in France. This technological advance made it possible to print up to 15,000 copies of four pages, significantly more than just a few years prior. During the July Monarchy, the industrial production of paper and ink meant that the cost of printing materials dropped considerably.12 The use of illustrations came to be even more popular in this period than it had been before, due to technological improvements in lithographic printing. The illustrated periodicals

9 This statistic is based on records from the year 1832. Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), (Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 2004), 24. 10 Dean de la Motte and Jeanne M. Przyblyski, Making the News. Modernity & the Mass Press in Nineteenth- Century France (University of Massachusetts Press, 1999), 2. 11 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 20. 12 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 29.

3 thus became more accessible and reached a different, more “petit-bourgeois” and even popular public than formerly.13 Studies of the press industry in France during the July Monarchy have emphasised how it gained great importance in this period.14 Although the press industry was already established before the July Monarchy, and many newspapers already existed, the 1830s were a crucial time for the development and expansion of the printing press. Christophe Charle’s Le siècle de la presse (2004) covers French press history over the 19th century as a whole. He depicts both the different periods and also the different newspapers, their circulation and their contribution to the press’s history. Charle demonstrates how most of the satirical press, and much of the press in general, was centred in Paris. However, the provincial press also started to expand in the 19th century.15 Making the News. Modernity & the Mass Press in Nineteenth-Century France (1999), edited by Dean de la Motte and Jeannene M. Przyblyski, also focuses on 19th-century French press history. It draws attention to the mass culture, the consumers of the mass press, and the ideological contexts of this period. Similar to Charle’s influential Le siècle de la presse, the essays published in Making the News cover the whole of the 19th century, and thus focus on different topics from different periods of the same century. The chapter on “Press and ‘Counter-Discourse’ in the Early July Monarchy” gives, in my opinion, a good presentation of the role of the oppositional press and caricatures in the early 1830s. The political tension after the July Revolution affected how the press functioned; it influenced the content and the debates. To understand exactly how the 1830-revolution affected the press and the public debates, I will start by giving a short overview of the political debates about how the July Monarchy came to be and which values were stressed when the government of Louis-Philippe was established.

13 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 67: “Un public bien différent, plus familial, petit-bourgeois, voire populaire, lit les nouveaux périodiques illustrés.” 14 See Histoire générale de la presse française. De 1815 à 1871, Volume 2, edited by Claude Bellanger, Jacques Godechot, Pierre Guiral and Fernand Terrour, (Paris: Presse Universitaire de France, 1969). 15 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 24-25. 4

The July Revolution

The period in which the caricature started to “flourish”, is the transition period of the July Monarchy. It began after the July Revolution, which took place over three days between 27 and 29 July 1830. These three days are also called the “Trois Glorieuses”. Several groups led the revolution, such as republicans, constitutional monarchists, Saint-Simonians16 and others. The revolution marked the transition from the period named the Restoration (1815–1830) to the July Monarchy, and resulted in the abdication of King Charles X of the House of Bourbon on 2 August 1830.17 Charles X’s unpopularity can be explained, to put it simply, by the fact that his reign was modelled on the Ancien Régime, despite being a constitutional monarchy. In July 1830, Charles X (and his prime minister) set forth several decrees, called the July Ordinances (or the Four Ordinances of Saint-Cloud), which among other things suspended the liberty of the press.18 The ordinances were delivered in secret to the newspaper Le Moniteur between the 25 and 26 July 1830. When the ordinances were made public, the people mobilised and started to protest the ordinances. These protests amplified over the course of the next days, and 27 July marked the first collisions between the military forces and the protesters. 27 July also marked the first day that claimed victims of the revolution. The next day, on 28 July, the revolts continued. This is also the first time major-general of the royal guard Auguste Frédéric Louis Viesse de Marmont (1774–1852) expressed to the king that this was a “revolution”.19 The city was then declared as in a state of emergency. The 28 of July was the bloodiest of the three revolutionary days, claiming many lives. In the night between the 28 and 29, the streets were barricaded. In the meantime, the government still believed that the revolts could be suppressed through military forces, but the uprising was intensified, and the military forces were losing.

16 Saint-Simonianism was a movement inspired by the life and works of Henri de Saint-Simon (1760–1825). Following his death, his followers continued his religious thinking. The movement also had a political aspect, inspired by Saint-Simon’s pre-socialist philosophy. Barthélemy Prosper Enfantin (1796–1864) led the movement in the 1830s. I will discuss the movement more thoroughly in other chapters. 17 For research on Louis-Philippe and the July Monarchy, Guy Antonetti’s work Louis-Philippe is, I believe, a very thorough and documented source. 18 The ordoncances also restricted the right to vote. 19 Christophe Charle, “Julirevolusjonen i 1830 som historisk utgangspunkt”, Arr idéhistorisk tidsskrift (1-2 2008), translated by Christine Amadou, 28. 5

The king, who was in Saint-Cloud, just outside of Paris, met with his government and finally decided to retract the ordinances and to appoint a new government. However, the message came too late. The opposition had already placed a temporary rule, led by Jacques Laffitte (1767 – 1844) and Gilbert du Motier, known as Marquis de La Fayette (1757–1834). La Fayette’s strategy was to place Louis-Philippe in power. On 31 July 1830, a few days before Charles X’s abdication, Louis-Philippe I of the House of Orléans, which was a branch of the House of Bourbon, was named lieutenant général du royaume, as a proposition formulated by Benjamin Constant (1767–1830) stated: “prie S.A.R. Mgr le duc d’Orléans de se rendre dans la capitale pour y exercer les fonctions de lieutenant général du royaume.”20 Louis-Philippe held this title until 9 August 1830. There were many discussions in the press about which form of governance France would have after this revolution, and many were not pleased of the idea of having Louis-Philippe as a ruler. However, prominent figures such as Adolphe Thiers (1797–1877) and La Fayette argued in favour of a constitutional monarchy, to “save France from anarchy”.21 On July 31 1830, Louis- Philippe wrote a proclamation where he deliberately excluded any mention of the word “king”:

Habitants de Paris ! […] Je n’ai pas balancé à venir partager vos dangers, à me placer au milieu de votre héroïque population, et à faire tous mes efforts pour vous préserver de la guerre civile et de l’anarchie. En rentrant dans la ville de Paris, je portais avec orgueil ces couleurs glorieuses que vous avez reprises, et que j’avais moi-même longtemps portées. Les chambres vont se réunir ; elles aviseront aux moyens d’assurer le régime des lois et le maintien des droits de la nation. La Charte sera désormais une vérité.22

As Guy Antonetti points out, Louis-Philippe showed that he had taken a stance against the regime of his predecessor by referring to the revolution as a heroic act, by replacing the white cocarde with a tricolored one and by implicitly accusing the king of having violated the Charter of 1815.23 On August 1 and 2, the focus was placed on consolidating Louis-Philippe’s power as lieutenant général and neutralizing his opponents, primarily the republicans and the Legitimists.24 Louis-Philippe began to choose the men he wanted to have in his government, placing people such as Guizot, Casimir Perier, Dupin, Laffitte and Sébastini as his government

20 Guy Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, (Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard, 1994), 580. 21 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 581. 22 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 587. 23 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 588. 24 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 593.

6 advisors.25 The republican leaders were beginning to display their disapproval right after the revolution, stating that Louis-Philippe had “confiscated” the revolution and that there had been a lack of demands and guarantees from the lieutenant général.26 On August 2 1830, Louis- Philippe had arranged for Charles X and his family’s exile, which resulted in Charles X’s and his son’s abdication in favour of the duc de Bordeau, Henri V.27 However, Henri V did not access the throne, as Louis-Philippe dismissed Charles X’s proposal after his abdication, knowing that this would increase his chance of succession. Louis-Philippe was finally declared king by the Chamber of Deputies, and took the title “Roi des Français”, rather than the traditional title “Roi de France”, on 9 August 1830. The July Monarchy was proclaimed on 7 August 1830 through the Charter of 1830, which instigated the new French monarchy. The new Charter of 1830 was consequently a revision of Charles X’s Charter of 1815, in which everything that was too reminiscent of the Ancien Régime was erased. Christophe Charle states that the 1830s are considered as the “starting point” of the press “explosion” in France and that the July Revolution must be regarded as even more significant for the development of the press than the 1789 Revolution, since the July Revolution was sparked by a reaction to censorship.28 Censorship was at the core of the revolt against King Charles X. Now that I have shortly presented the July Revolution and the establishment of the July Monarchy, I will introduce some of the existing newspapers in the 1830s. The revolution was triggered, for one, as a reaction to the restrictions on the press through the July ordinances. It is therefore important to discuss exactly what the situation of the press was after the 1830 revolution. As I will show in my presentation of the thesis questions and the structrue at the end of this chapter, the composition of the thesis is thematically structured, meaning that the different chapters cover different themes that are not necessarily chronologically ordered. Here, however, I will give a chronological framework over some of the press and how the different newspapers reacted to the political context in the time that La Charge existed, from 1832 to

25 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 593. 26 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 594. 27 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 596. 28 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 10. 7

1834. This will help the reader to understand the historical context in which La Charge and other satirical papers operated and will show to what extent the political situation was strained at that time. I will begin with a short presentation of some of the daily press, and afterwards I will discuss the satirical press.

The Press

In this thesis, I will focus mainly on the satirical press in France during the 1830s, but I will start by giving a small overview of some important parts of the daily press. Louis-Philippe proclaimed a rather liberal censorship law in Article 7 of the new Charter of 1830, which resulted in the creation of many new newspers. The article stated that Frenchmen had the right to express their opinion in accordance with the laws, and that censorship could never be re- established:

Les Français ont le droit de publier et de faire imprimer leurs opinions en se conformant aux lois. La censure ne pourra jamais être rétablie.

In the beginning of the 1830s, there already existed several important newspapers. Some of the most read were Le Constitutionnel and Le Journal des débats, which represented the parti de la Résistance,29 the more conservative part of the government.30 The Réstistance press represented over 40 % of the circulation of newspapers in Paris in 1832.31 Le Moniteur universel, which used to be the official organ of the French Empire, was also one of the most read newspapers in the 1830s. Le National and La Tribune were republican newspapers and represented around 9 % of the press circulation. They were two of the newly founded daily news publications after the Charter of 1830. The Legitimist press consisted mainly of La Gazette de France and La Quotidienne, which represented around 26 % of the press in Paris.

29 The parti de la Résistance sat on the centre-right of the Chamber of Deputies. It was primarily lead by the president du Conseil Casimir Perier and the minister of the department of public instruction François Guizot. On the other side was the parti du Mouvement that sat on the centre-left of the Chamber of Deputies, founded by Jacques Laffitte. Adolphe Thiers later became the party leader. 30 Although Le Constitutionnel was considered a liberal newspaper in 1830, when it was in opposition to Charles X. Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 598. 31 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 49

8

In the following, I will give a short overview of the newspapers that will be discussed in this thesis. As I briefly mentioned, the primary press organs for the July monarchy government were Le Journal des débats and Le Constitutionnel. The Constitutionnel was established already in 1815 and was the most-read newspaper in 1825, under Charles X. Among its contributors were Adolphe Thiers32 and Alexandre de Lameth (1760–1829). Thiers later established the republican newspaper Le National, also mentioned earlier, together with Armand Carrel (1800–1836) and François-Auguste Mignet (1796–1884). According to historian Guy Antonetti, the Journal des débats and Le Constitutionnel were too important as newspapers to be involved in what Antonetti qualifies as “une campagne de presse aventureuse” in early 1830 against the king Charles X, which explains why the much more political National was established in January 1830. The National could more clearly front a more aggressive political tone towards Charles X. On July 30, 1830, the day after the three revolutionary days, there were some concerns from the opposition that the Legitimists would try to proclaim Henri V, Charles X’s grandson, as king.33 Jacques Laffitte, a liberal deputy and supporter of freedom of the press, therefore met with the National’s three journalists Thiers, Mignet and Carrel to share his concerns. He also argued that the duc d’Orléans should be proclaimed king before the Legitimists made their move. Thiers and Mignet consequently wrote a text that was printed at the offices of the National and spread throughout Paris. The text reads as follows:

Charles X ne peut plus rentrer dans Paris : il a fait couler le sang du peuple. La république nous exposerait à d’affreuses divisions ; elle nous brouillerait avec l’Europe. Le duc d’Orléans est un prince dévoué à la cause de la Révolution. Le duc d’Orléans ne s’est jamais battu contre nous. Le duc d’Orléans a porté au feu les couleurs tricolores. Le duc d’Orléans peut seul les porter encore ; nous n’en voulons pas d’autres. Le duc d’Orléans s’est prononcé ; il accepte la Charte comme nous l’avons toujours voulue et entendue. C’est du peuple français qu’il tiendra sa couronne.34

32 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 547. 33 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 576. 34 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 576.

9

As commented by Antonetti, the repetition of the name Duc d’Orléans made this piece a “chef- d’œuvre de propagande subliminale.”35 This shows the importance of journalists and the press to the July Revolution and their significance in placing Louis-Philippe in command after the revolution. The press played an important part in the political strategies of the opposition. The newspaper Le Globe also criticised Charles X and what was perceived as his abuse of the Charter of 1814.36 Le Globe was established by Pierre Leroux and Alexandre Lachevardière in 1824. Its creation was supported by the organization Aide-toi, le ciel t'aidera, which opposed the Bourbon Restoration. The organization also helped establish Le National. The Saint-Simonians bought Le Globe in 1830, and the newspaper became the movement’s leading organ. Some of its prominent contributors were François Guizot, Michel Chevalier and one of the founders of Saint-Simonianism, Barthélemy Prosper Enfantin (1796–1864), who will be discussed later in this thesis. The Legitimist La Gazette de France was one of the oldest newspapers in France. It was established in 1631, but the newspaper had less than 3000 subscribers and was on decline in the 1830s. This was also the case for the rest of the Legitimist press.37 How accessible were the newspapers in the early 1830s? Historian David S. Kerr stresses the fact that subscription numbers and circulation figures did not necessarily give a representative picture of how many actually read the newspapers, because a large number of people could read a single newspaper: “the press was available in cafés and cabinets de lecture – lending libraries-cum-reading rooms – in Paris and the larger provincial towns.”38 These establishments catered for a more accessible press, to be enjoyed by a large number of people, even outside of Paris. “An extremely modest number of copies delivered to a town could still have a significant audience when they were sent to such public establishments.”39 This implies that the readers did not necessarily originate exclusively from the middle class – meaning the ones who could afford the subscription to the journals – but also from the lower classes.

35 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 577. 36 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 548. 37 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 53. 38 David S. Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830 – 1848. Charles Philipon and the illustrated press. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 130. 39 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 131. 10

The journals that existed during the early 1830s were mainly “presse d’opinion”, meaning that the newspapers were not in fact communicating actual news, but rather their interpretation of a happening, of political statements and such like. The reason for this was that it could take some time between a news happening and the newspapers’ distribution of their publications. Instead of communicating the news day by day, therefore, the journals were giving their interpretation of what had happened. However, as I have already stated, my focus in this thesis is on the satirical press, which I will discuss in the following subchapter.

The Satirical Press

As I have already mentioned, this period establishes the beginning of the caricature journal’s “golden age”. The lithographic technique had been improved, which made it easier and cheaper to produce and publish caricatures in the press. Article 7 of the new Charter of 1830 is important in the history of French caricature and satire because it not only made it easier to establish newspapers, but because it especially made it easier to establish satirical newspapers (that had often been censored to a greater degree than others) without the fear of retribution from the state. Article 7 showed willingness from the king to meet the people’s desire to express themselves freely. To give a full summary of the satirical press and the history of caricatures before 1830 in France would however be too extensive to cover in this introduction and I will therefore focus on certain areas and newspapers. Caricatures existed in France well before 1830, as Yannick Dehée stresses: “l’art de la caricature remonte aussi loin que l’histoire de l’Art.”40 Yet, Antoine de Baecque states in La caricature révolutionnaire that there was a growth in caricatures and satirical pamphlets and newspapers from 1788 onwards.41 Baecque mentions a collection of around 600 caricatures from the 1789 Revolution that is archived at the Cabinet des Estampes in the Bibliothèque nationale de France and at the Carnavalet Museum in Paris,42 along with more than 10,000

40 Dehée, “Avant-propos”, La Caricature…Et si c’était sérieux ? Décryptage de la violence satirique, 11. 41 Antoine de Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, preface by Michel Vovelle, (Paris: Presses du C.N.R.S, 1988), 18. 42 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 14.

11 satirical pamphlets.43 “La verve satirique est un genre à la mode,” he concludes about the period.44 Thus, the satirical press and the caricature were beginning to be established in France during the Revolution. Some even claim that the satirical press in France was born during the Revolution.45 However, this claim is debatable. Since it would be difficult to retrace the history of the satirical press in France, I will initially focus on the newspapers Le Corsaire, founded in 1823, and Le Figaro, founded in 1826. Historian Fabrice Erre credits Le Corsaire and Le Figaro for their influence on the satirical press in France in the 1820s, stating that the newspapers had revived the political approach in the satirical press and “inaugurated a new form of satirical press”.46 Le Corsaire originally avoided expressing political ideas or commenting on political matters. Its subtitle was “journal des spectacles, de la literature, des arts, des mœurs et des modes”, and it primarily focused on cultural topics during the first three years of its existence. The newspaper thus rejected the idea of commenting on political matters.47 However, this changed in 1826. The same year, the satirical weekly Le Figaro was created. Le Figaro immediately started to comment on political matters and current affairs, like Le Corsaire had begun to do. Erre argues that Le Figaro and Le Corsaire’s satirical discourses were related and synchronous in 1826, in part due to the Jesuit polemic,48 which both newspapers “exploited” to launch their periodic satire.49 The two journals thus began to push the boundaries more: “Ils posent ainsi les bases d’un discours périodique satirique et politique plus dynamique et plus percutant que celui créé lors de la Révolution.”50 Le Figaro, for instance, began to criticise the government’s censorship.51 As I will demonstrate, Le Figaro is linked to the establishment of La Charge.

43 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 23. 44 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 23. 45 Fabrice Erre, “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’‘attentat horrible’ du 19 Novembre 1832”, Revue d’histoire du XIXe siècle, 29 (2004), 1. https://www.cairn.info/revue-d-histoire-du-dix-neuvieme-siecle-2004-2-page-3.htm (accessed 30 September 2016). 46 Fabrice Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, (PhD thesis, Université Panthéon- Sorbonne, 2007), part I, 158. 47 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 148. 48 As Erre points out, anticlericalism became an important theme for the politics of the opposition during the Restoration. The attacks targeted the Jesuits especially. Le Figaro and Le Corsaire accused the king of being in league with the Jesuits: “’Jésuitique’ et ‘ministériel’ deviennent synonymes.” Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, 153. 49 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 151. 50 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 152. 51 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 157. 12

But before I explore this more, I will discuss a satirical newspaper that is said to be “the starting point” for Philipon’s La Caricature: namely, La Silhouette (1829–1831). The weekly newspaper La Silhouette, whose subtitle was “album lithographique: Beaux-arts, dessins, moeurs, théâtres, caricatures”, was founded by the lithographic printers Charles Ratier and Sylvestre-Nicolas Durier on 24 December 1829, less than one year before the July Revolution. Ratier and Durier formed a partnership with Benjamin-Louis Bellet and Charles Philipon. The journal published two lithographs per issue, which was considerable at that time. La Silhouette was initially founded as a more culturally focused journal but turned more political and became a journal of opposition. It became progressively more hostile towards King Charles X, and It gained a considerable amount of attention after publishing a caricature by Charles Philipon portraying the king as a Jesuit, only a couple of months before the July Revolution.52 Erre credits Le Figaro, Le Corsaire and La Silhouette for leading the movement for the satirical press’s establishment during the Restoration, a movement which was fundamental to the growth of the satirical press during the July Monarchy. Yet, as he points out, these journals were surpassed by Charles Philipon and his publisher Maison Aubert with the creation of La Caricature and Le Charivari.53 Philipon stated on 2 February 1832 that La Silhouette, which he claims to have founded, was none other than his journal La Caricature, merely with a different title.54 When Charles Philipon founded La Caricature in 1830, he had already witnessed the importance of caricatures as an oppositional force against the state and the king, a theme which he addressed in the prospectus of La Caricature: “En France, comme en Angleterre, la caricature est devenue un pouvoir.”55 Philipon argued that the caricature had become a “driving force.” His contribution to the satirical journal La Silhouette had given him experience of working with caricatures, although on a much smaller scale than in his later journals. Although La Silhouette found some popularity after the caricature of the Jesuit king, the journal was abandoned in January 1831, undoubtedly due to Philipon’s departure and the

52 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 67. 53 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 11. 54 La Caricature, 2 February 1832: “[…] le journal la Silhouette, que j’avais également fondé, et qui n’était autre chose que mon journal la Caricature, sous un autre titre.” 55 La Caricature, “prospectus”, 1830. 13 creation of La Caricature. The abolition of censorship through the Charter of 1830 was a blessing for satirical journals such as La Silhouette. It also made it possible for Philipon to create La Caricature, which in hindsight proved to be particularly damaging for La Silhouette. According to Kerr, La Silhouette was “sabotaged” by Philipon, as he had stolen the journal’s most prominent contributors to work for La Caricature. La Silhouette was consequently forced to cease publication on 2 January 1831, due to the difficulties it had encountered following Philipon’s departure and La Caricature’s launch.56 As I will discuss later, there is also a connection between La Silhouette and La Charge. Erre comments on the new censorship laws by stating that “le recours massif à la satire constitue un des traits caractéristiques de cette parole liberée.”57 Several satirical journals were established immediately after this declaration, most famously Charles Philipon’s two “oppositional” satirical newspapers Le Charivari and La Caricature, to which France’s most famous caricaturists such as Honoré Daumier (1808–1879) frequently contributed. These journals were so influential that even Legitimist newspapers such as Les Cancans, Le Revenant and Le Brid’Oison found inspiration from them (especially La Caricature).58 Many historians, art historians and press historians have dedicated books, anthologies, essays and articles to the caricatures published in La Caricature and Le Charivari. The research on Philipon and his two journals is extensive. As Kerr points out, Charles Philipon had not initially intended to have political caricatures as the main focus of La Caricature: “the lithographs were to introduce a provincial audience to the ‘opposition des artistes’ and the wit of the Parisian studios, political caricature was to play a secondary role”.59 However, the caricature turned out to be La Caricature’s most significant and popular contribution, and the caricatures thus gradually became more political and were more closely connected to the articles. Although the proclamation of the July Monarchy made it easier to run a satirical journal, the fear of caricatures yet again became a reality as satirical journals proved to be increasingly accessible and popular, much due to Philipon’s contribution with La Caricature

56 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 20. 57 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 11. 58 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 12. 59 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 20. 14 and Le Charivari. Even though caricatures were becoming more accessible than before, satirical journals were still restricted to a small number of readers. Kerr has explored the French caricature’s function with the public in the 1830s in his work Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, where he claims that subscriptions to newspapers, and especially satirical journals that contained lithographs, was “a luxury few middle-class families could afford”.60 Furthermore, he states that subscribers to La Caricature and Le Charivari probably subscribed to other newspapers as well as Philipon’s, because satirical journals relied on their readers being up-to-date with current events so that they could understand the references. Kerr’s conclusion is that Philipon’s journals were not as accessible to the working class as has sometimes been claimed in works on French caricatures. The same conclusion can be found in Forbes and Erre.61 What the research on Philipon’s journals and the period in general has shown, is that the new censorship article in the Charter made it possible, in theory, to criticise the king – including through the use of caricatures. The most famous caricature from this period was the portrayal of the king gradually becoming a pear, first published in La Caricature in 1831. This started what could be called a trend and many caricatures copied the symbol of the “pear king”. As art historian Ségolène Le Men argues, the visual metaphor of the king as a pear “metamorphosed” into a sign: “Il suffit qu'il dise ‘c'est une poire’, et tout le monde comprend, après sa démonstration de ‘ressemblance progressive’, que ‘c'est le roi’.”62 In Paris, the king was being called “the first fruit of France” and people were asking each other if they had seen the latest “pear”.63 This demonstrates to the growing importance of caricatures, even among the broader public.

1832: The Republican Threat

60 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 123. 61 Forbes, The Satiric Decade and Erre, Le règne de la poire. 62 Ségolène Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, Genesis (Manuscrits-Recherche-Invention), Volume 24 (2004): 66. https://doi.org/10.3406/item.2004.1314 (accessed 19 June 2017). 63 Robert Justin Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989), 93. 15

The king and his ministers now realised the political impact the caricature could have on society and started to perceive it as a threat. During the two years in which La Charge existed, several important events marked the public opinion. Prior to La Charge’s establishment in 1832, the government had reinforced its stance against the oppositional press, which is illustrated by Daumier’s imprisonment on 27 August 1832. Daumier was sentenced to six months of imprisonment at the Sainte-Pélagie prison for having caricatured the king in his famous caricature called Gargantua from 1831, which I will come back to in later chapters. There was also the trial against the Saint-Simonians Enfantin and Chevalier, which resulted in the imprisonment of both on 15 December the same year. The liberals perceived these trials, seizing and attacks on the press as a contradiction of, or rather as an attack on article 7 of the Charter. The country’s instability was not only due to political struggles, but also because of the cholera pandemic that had reached Paris in 1832.64 The cholera pandemic contributed to economic struggle, as well as uncertainties and fear amongst the French population. Casimir Perier’s death on 15 May 1832 from cholera proved that the disease could affect anybody. The pandemic caused a large number of deaths, especially in Paris.65 Urbanisation and industrialisation made the situation even worse, and there was a great need for sanitary improvements in the city.66 Since knowledge about the disease was minimal, there was a collective panic surrounding the source of the disease, which created terror and suspicion. There were rumours surfacing that there were public poisoners lurking in Paris, making people sick.67 The epidemic also created fear of uprising from the “classes dangereuses”.68 The cholera pandemic was thus used politically as a way to point the finger at what was perceived as a threatening force against the government, especially from the republicans that sided with the “classes dangereuses”.

64 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 688. 65 In Paris, the total number of death due to cholera was 18 000. Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 688. 66 Guillaume Duval, Les grandes dates de l’histoire économique et sociale de la France, Alternatives Economiques Poche, 69 (2004), 66. 67 67 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 688. 68 68 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 688. 16

The political threats were, however, not only coming from the republican side, as I have already implied. The Legitimists created many difficulties for the government, which became particularly obvious in the wake of the insurrection in the Vendée in 1832, led by Marie- Caroline de Bourbon-Siciles (1798 – 1870), the Duchess of Berry. She was married to Charles Ferdinand d’Artois, the duc de Berry, who was the son of Charles X. They were both parents of Henri V. When Charles X was overthrown, both he and his brother abdicated. However, the supporters of the Bourbon regime still hoped that Henri would be proclaimed king. Yet, Louis- Philippe, who was Charles’ cousin, did not proclaim Henri as king and instead gave the National Assembly permission to declare himself as king. Thus, the Duchess of Berry and her son went into exile with Charles and his family. But the Duchess did not accept the fact that Louis-Philippe had become “King of the French”, and she began to conspire to have her son, who she claimed was the legitimate king, “regain” the throne. She instigated an insurrection on June 1832 at the Vendée and was ultimately defeated. She went into hiding but was later imprisoned in December the same year. Although the Legitimists threatened the July Monarchy, the republican movement and their threats of insurrections were still at the centre of attention for the government and for the journalists of La Charge. The blame for most of the insurrections and turmoil was placed on the republican movement, but also on the press, and especially on the caricatures. The government thus started to censor more than before. The oppositional and republican press had already started to criticise the government’s censorship extensively, which can be exemplified through this article from Le National in 1832, in which the author defends the press:

la presse a fait une révolution, jeté bas une dynastie, balayé un ordre de choses soutenu par l’Europe des rois ; la presse a couru tous les risques d’une lutte illégale, pour se voir, quinze mois après, sous un gouvernement né de la presse, et par la main de six ou sept ministres auxquels elle a procuré une fortune plus haute que leurs mérites ou leurs services, étouffée à petit bruit par la justice préventive des parquets !69

Why was the republican movement deemed so dangerous? I will now focus on the republicans and how the government reacted to them. The most influential republican association during La Charge’s existence was La Société des Droits de l’Homme. However, there was another

69 Le National, 13 January 1832. 17 republican association that had been created in the wake of the 1830 revolution, called the Société des Amis du Peuple. This association was mostly liberal/republican and was created in Paris. In the early 1830s, its members were often arrested, trialed or suspected of illegal activities, such as conspiring against the king. As I will demonstrate, the association’s encounter with the justice reached a peak in 1832. The association was created in 1830, after the 1830 revolution. As Jean-Claude Caron states, there was no republican party as such in 1830, but there existed several “secret societies” before July 1830 which became public after the revolution.70 These societies were self- proclaimed supporters of the Republic, like the one from 1792. Yet, they also appealed to Saint-Simonians, to Freemasons, bonapartists, liberals etc.: “Numériquement très faibles, elles sont poussées à des alliances souvent contre-nature, qui ne résisteront pas à la révolution de 1830.”71 Caron further argues that the idea of a republic was still far from being popular in Paris, since the memories of the Terror were still fresh in the minds of the population.72 This sentiment was shared by Victor Hugo who expressed that: “Après juillet 1830, il nous faut la chose républicaine et le mot monarchie.”73 The Société des Amis du Peuple was thus an attempt at organising a republican movement. The association was established on July 30, 1830, the day that the “proclamation du duc d’Orléans”, written by Adolphe Thiers, was published. In this proclamation, Thiers argued against a republican regime, since it would generate discord with the rest of Europe.74 This publication provoked the republicans (J.-L. Hubert, U. Trelat, C. Teste, A. Guinard, Béranger, Cabet, Cauchois-Lemaire and Chevalier, to name a few), who organized a reunion at the restaurateur Lointier. Bérager, Cabet, Cauchois-Lemaire and Chevalier supported Louis- Philippe and agreed with Thiers’ reasoning; however, they were in the minority on this issue. A text written by the members, which Caron describes as “un véritable programme républicain”, was read aloud and later published in La Tribune, a republican newspaper directed by Armand Marrast (1801 – 1852), a member of the Société des Amis du Peuple.75

70 Jean-Claude Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, Romantisme, 28-29 (1980): 169-179. https://www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5349 (accessed May 12, 2020), 169. 71 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 169. 72 This will be discussed more thoroughly in chapter 4. 73 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 170. 74 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 170. 75 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 171. 18

According to Antonetti, the newspaper later became: “l'organe quasi-officiel de la Société des Droits de l'Homme.” I will come back to the Société des Droits de l’Homme and how it is connected to the Société des Amis du Peuple. La Charge often refers to Marrast in its publications, and he is likely portrayed in at least one caricature from 1833. The caricature in question depicts the Tribune’s locations, where we can see a man sitting at his desk and a woman standing in front of the desk. I believe that the man is supposed to represent Marrast, although this is not explicitly written in neither the text in the caricature nor in the article linked to the image. However, behind the man one can see a poster with the text: “Monsieur … Tribun de la république, une et invisible dérange les affaires publiques et particulières, défait les gouvernements, fait les émeutes. Le tout à juste prix.” There are two drawings after the word “Monsieur” that function as a rebus: a drawing of a mast and a drawing of a rat, which in French becomes “mât rat”, and is pronounced the same way as Marrast. This makes it quite clear, I believe, that the man is supposed to represent Marrast. In the article linked to the caricature, several newspapers are mentioned, such as La Gazette and La Quotidienne, which are described as promoting “absolutisms”, “carlism”, “au detriment et renversement de la revolution de juillet de la Charte de 1830.” The newspaper Le National is also mentioned as promoting “the American republic” and “false democracy”, while La Tribune is said to promote demagogy, republicanism, “sanculotisme” and “du 93”. These definitions of the newspaper show how La Charge had categorized them politically and according to which ideologies they represented. The office depicted in the image is filled with symbols and references to 1793. The woman portrayed in the drawing is described as having a “blood coloured” Phrygian cap on her head. She also has a “couperet”,76 with the inscription “1793” written on it, hanging from her waist. There is also a bust of Robespierre on a filing cabinet, reminding the reader of Robespierre’s terror regime of 1793-94. A poster with the text “propagande républicaine” is hanging on the wall, insinuating that Le National was spreading republican propaganda to the public – hence representing danger. As I will discuss later in the thesis, La Charge was highly critical of the press, both the republicans and the Legitimist press, and of the way journalists

76 The blade of the guillotine. 19 criticised the government. Although La Charge does not mention the Société des Amis du Peuple much, there are at least some references to its members, such as Marrast.

1. La Charge 17 November 1833

The Société grew from 120 members to 300 quite quickly, and by the end of August 1830 their meetings could attract up to 1500, either sympathisers or just curious. Though the Société had some prominent members, it still lacked a leader. La Fayette, whom they had counted upon, had accepted to be in command of the Garde Nationale, a position which was offered to him by the Commission municipale. Thus, La Fayette would not be the association’s leader. The members of the association were for the most part republicans, usually artists, writers, students and doctors, and more rarely advocates, prosecutors, judges or attorney generals.77 The Société organized several demonstrations against Louis-Philippe’s

77 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 172.

20 inauguration, but they never attracted more than 4000–5000 people.78 The government grew more worried about the republicans and the Société specifically. The minister of the Interior, Guizot, accused the Société of creating disorder and of hurting the country’s economics. Actions were taken against them, but the association only grew stronger because of the government’s stance. In 1831, 19 people, the majority being members of the Société, were accused of “republican conspiracy” and of having a major role in several agitations. However, the men were ultimately acquitted. François-Vincent Raspail (1794 – 1878) was the president of the association from 1831 to January 1832. Several projects were attempted during this time, and some were carried through. Some of the projects included the establishment of newspapers: Le Tribun du Peuple, Le Mouvement and Le Véritable Mayeux. After the celebrations of 14 July 1831, several members of the Société des Amis du Peuple were arrested and trialed. They also published many pamphlets that were often seized and, ultimately, the Société was trialed in court in January 1832. Le National published the reports from the trial on 11 and 12 January. In the reports, the Société is described as being created after the July revolution and of having “pour but de combattre le gouvernement que cette revolution a établi.”79 The article further explains that the government had its eyes on the Société after the commotions in May, June and July 1831. This resulted in several search warrants at the members of the association, who were accused of conspiring against the state security and of planning the assassination of the king. Under the trial, several of the members expressed their radical political views; Blanqui, for example, declares himself a “proletarian”, to which the president of the jury responds by saying that “ce n’est pas un état”. Blanqui then answers that “C’est l’état de 25 millions de Français qui n’ont pas de moyens de travail.”80 During the second day of the trial, the accusations of conspiracy were dismissed, which upset the republicans because they had been asked about the conspiracy during the whole trial: “Le mot de conspiration suppose une machination secrète, et la Société

78 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 173. 79 Le National, 11 January 1832. 80 Le National, 11 January 1832.

21 des Amis du Peuple a toujours agi au grand jour et à la face de ses concitoyens”, Cavaignac declared.81 The seizures continued and were especially prevalent under the government of Casimir- Périer. After the insurrection of 5 and 6 of June 1832, which I will come back to shortly, the Société was targeted more than ever before. This resulted in the disintegration of the association. The police prefect Guisquet declared that: “Les républicains ne forment plus un parti, ce sont des hommes isolés qui […] n'osent pas réunir les membres épars de leurs bandes découragés.”82 New associations were created after the disintegration of the Société des Amis du Peuple, and some took over the role of the Société des Amis du Peuple, above all the Société des Droits de l’Homme.83 The reason why the associations’ background is relevant here is that it contributes to La Charge’s narrative against the republican movement. Many of their members were criticised in La Charge, and the articles and caricatures focused especially on the republican movement and the fear of new insurrections, like the one that had happened earlier the same year La Charge was established. This insurrection happened on 5 and 6, thus also called the June Rebellion, and was triggered by General Lamarque’s funeral.84 The uprising was led by anti-monarchical republicans who attempted to overthrow the July Monarchy. Before I discuss the insurrection, I will present two so-called “conspiracies” against Louis-Philippe that set the tone for the June Rebellion. Several “conspiracies” against Louis-Philippe occurred before La Charge’s foundation, notably one on 4 January 1832 and a second one on 1 February 1832. The first one, known as “le complot des Tours de Notre-Dame” was an attempt to set fire to the towers of Notre-Dame as a way to signalise revolt against Louis-Philippe’s rule. Several men were arrested while they were setting fire on the roof of Notre-Dame. The pro-government Le Journal des Débats wrote about the incident, stating that eight men had trespassed the church and gone up to one of the towers to ring the “tocsin”, while firing a gun at the same time. The notice also states that seven of them were arrested rapidly as they were setting fire on the roof but that the last one managed

81 Le Nationai, 12 January 1832. 82 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 178. 83 Caron, La Société des Amis du Peuple, 178. 84 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, Part I, 206.

22 to escape.85 The newspaper alludes to a conspiracy between the Carlists and the republicans: “La plupart des malheureux embrigadés ignoraient même à quell parti ils se dévouaient; et, payés par Holy-Rood86, croyaient fermement server ceux qui rêvent le retour de la république.”87 The government blamed the republican movement for this incident, although there was no clear evidence that they were behind it. On the contrary, contemporary historians have argued that it was more probable that the Legitimists were behind this conspiracy rather than the republicans.88 The second incident occurred on 1 February the same year. This time it was a clearly Carlist conspiracy, which was leaked by the police who had infiltrated the network.89 The Carlists’ plan was to capture, and perhaps kill, the royal family and some ministers during a ball at the Tuileries to proclaim Henri V as king. However, the conspirators were arrested before they could set the plan in motion. Historian Antonetti argues that these events surrounding the republican movement (although, as I have pointed out, the Carlist/Legitimist movement was just as active) made Louis-Philippe more hostile towards them. He, who until now had been quite progressive and sympathetic toward the republicans, had had enough. The orléanist journalist Alfred-Auguste Cuvillier-Fleury (1802 – 1887) wrote in his diary that Louis-Philippe was very annoyed by the “insolence des ennemis de son père” and that “il fait profession d’aimer le mouvement, mais il est dégoûté des choses par les hommes.”90 Although these conspiracies were important, they seemed much less serious compared to the events in June 1832. As I briefly mentioned, the June Rebellion was triggered by the death and funeral of the General Jean Maximilien Lamarque (1770 – 1832), who had died of cholera on 1 June 1832. Lamarque was a former Army commander during the Napoleonic Wars and a strong opponent of Charles X and the return to the Ancien Régime. He had been a prominent participant in the July Revolution, but had become increasingly critical of the July Monarchy. He had therefore become a popular figure for the opposition. During his funeral on 5 June, anti-monarchic republicans used the funeral to conspire against the government. The republican societies, such as Société des Amis

85 Le Journal des Débats, 6 January 1832. 86 Holyrood was Charles X’s family’s resident at that time. 87 Le Journal des Débats, 6 January 1832. 88 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 679. 89 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 679. 90 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 679. 23 du Peuple and Société des Droits de l’Homme, took part in the funeral. Some of the organisers directed the cortege to Place de la Bastille, where several speeches were made. It escalated quickly when someone began to wave a red flag with the words “La Liberté ou la Mort” written on it. The events from that day were described in different manners in the daily press. The republican Le National, sided, not surprisingly, with the republicans. The article published on 6 June compared the insurrection to the July Revolution, but also emphasised the differences between them and described the situation as a “civil war”:

[…] nous avons vu se reproduire presque les mêmes symptômes insurrectionnels qui signalèrent la journée du 27 juillet 1830. Seulement ce que nous n’avions pas vu dans les combats avant-coureurs de la grande lutte des 28 et 29 juillet, c’était des gardes nationaux faisant feu l’un sur l’autre, et Paris a offert aujourd’hui ce triste spectacle. Ce n’est plus l’émeute aux prises avec la force régulière, mais les opinions en guerre avec les opinions. C’est de la guerre civile.91

Journalist Armand Carrel described how the “sergents de ville” had kept their hats on their heads when the cortege had passed them, while the rest of the crowd had taken them off. Carrel wrote: “Nous supplions donc les patriotes, dont nous partageons la trop juste indignation, et qui partagent nos sentimens d’ordre et d’humanité, de considérer comme des concitoyens les militaires qu’on leur oppose, et de se garder de toute provocation envers eux.”92 The next day, the newspaper reported that several newspapers had been seized (such as Le Courrier Français and Le Corsaire) or had been prevented from publishing (such as La Tribune, La Quotidienne and Brid’Oison).93 The Legitimist Gazette de France, on the other hand, took the opportunity to underline the difference between them and the “far left”: “Ceux-ci proclament la souveraineté du peuple, afin de se rendre maîtres du peuple. Nous en appelons sans cesse à la nation, afin que la nation se rende maîtresse de tous les partis et qu’elles les force de travailler pour elle, tandis que chaque parti, comme on peut le voir, veut que la France travaille pour lui.”94 Le Journal des Débats however, showed much more sympathy with the government, emphasising the violence against the sergents de ville and accusing the rioters of brutality. The

91 Le National, 6 June 1832. 92 Le National, 6 June 1832. 93 Le National, 7 June 1832. 94 La Gazette de France, 6 June 1832. 24 journalist also noted that several republican groups were present during the funeral, such as Société des droits de l’Homme and Société des Amis du Peuple. The funeral did not only attract French republicans, but also immigrants from Poland, Germany, Italy, Portugal and Spain, according to Journal des Débats.95 La Fayette spoke up to the crowd, asking them to retreat and to stay calm, but as the journalist from Journal des Débats concluded: “la voix de M. de La Fayette n’a pas été entendue.”96 It also accused the opposition, meaning both the republicans and the Carlists, of conspiring together:

des hommes, qui se sont vantés d’appeler l’anarchie au secours de la contre-révolution, ont tendu la main aux ennemis de la monarchie constitutionnelle. Le carlisme et la république se sont levés à la fois aujourd’hui contre le trône de juillet ; l’un espérant se servir de l’autre pour préparer son triomphe.97

The attack (or what was at least perceived as an attempted attack) on Louis-Philippe in November 1832 was a major event during La Charge’s existence, resulting in several caricatures and articles on the topic. Next, I will give a week-by-week summary of what this event was, how La Charge reacted to it, and how the general press wrote about it. La Charge’s journalist(s) wrote several articles referring to a fictional place called Barataria to criticise the opposition, and especially the republican movement. As Erre notes, the invention of fictive places was common in satire, since it could construct an environment for establishing and discussing political discourses.98 In La Charge’s case, the Barataria island is an imagined and distant place, a sort of parallel to France in 1832. The articles appeared a few weeks before the attempted assassination of the king on 19 November 1832. The king was on his way to the Palais Bourbon when a gunshot was fired as he was walking on the Pont-Royal. No-one was actually hit by the bullet from the attacker’s gun, but the shot started a commotion which resulted in the attacker escaping. A republican student was later arrested for the attempted attack. He was section chief of the association Société des droits de l’homme. The student denied the allegations against him and was acquitted in 1833.

95 Le Journal des débats, 6 June 1832. 96 Le Journal des débats, 6 June 1832. 97 Le Journal des débats, 6 June 1832. 98 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part II, 151. 25

The daily press covered the incident in different manners. The pro-governmental Journal des Débats portrayed the king as almost stoically calm:

Quant au Roi, il a conservé cette présence d’esprit et ce courage personnel dont il a donné tant de preuves et dans tant d’occasions périlleuses. Au moment où il entendit le coup, il se retourna, et saluant cette foule épouvantée : Il n’y a pas de mal, dit-il, et continua sa route sans qu’on remarquât la moindre altération dans ses traits.99

The pro-governmental Le Constitutionnel gave a similar recapitulation as Journal des Débats, but emphasised more on the fact that the king had actually seen the gun. According to Le Constitutionnel, an aide-de-camp100 told Louis-Philippe that the shot was caused by a rifle, to which the king answered: “Non […], c’est un coup de pistolet, je l’ai vu.”101 The left-leaning Le National, however, gave a different account of the event. It voiced skepticism over the fact that the king proclaimed that he had seen the man shooting and that he could recognize him if he saw him again, but that the guards had not seen nor been able to arrest the man: “l’assassin, disons-nous, si bien vu et de si près, se serait échappé! Tout cela est au moins singulier”.102 This is something that the oppositional Le Courrier also commented on: “la non-arrestation de cet homme, quand tout semblait sa fuite impossible, achèverait de donner à cette aventure un caractère tout à fait hors de ligne.”103 Historian Fabrice Erre writes that the republican papers such as La Caricature used this incident as a source for satire104: they contested the fact that Louis-Philippe had been the target of an assassination and threw suspicion on the fact that no bullet had been found on the scene. Le Courrier wrote about the bullet on 21 November: “C’est déjà un concours de circonstances bien extraordinaire que ce coup de pistolet à balle tire dans une foule; sans qu’on ait de nouvelles de la balle”.105 In a fictional article about the investigation, La Caricature takes the point-of-view of a police investigator on the case who is portrayed as incompetent and

99 Le Journal des Débats, 20 November 1832. 100 A military rank. 101 Le Constitutionnel, 20 November 1832. 102 Le National, 21 November 1832. 103 The article from Le Courrier was published in Le National on 21 November 1832. 104 Erre, “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’‘attentat horrible’ du 19 novembre 1832”, 4. 105 Le Courrier, as cited in Le National 21 November 1832.

26 exceedingly biased. The investigator is certain that there is a conspiracy between the republicans and the Legitimists:

Là, là, quand je disais que c’était une nouvelle alliance carlo-républicaine! Vous verrez que, par la suite, nous découvrirons que le pistolet a été chargé par un légitimiste et tiré par un républicain. Vous pouvez même l’écrire d’avance, car c’est certain; et si cela n’est pas, cela devrait être: donc c’est absolument comme si cela était.106

This portrayal of the inspector is similar to how Armand Carrel from Le National criticised the police and the investigation and their lack of transparency, and their possible political motivations:

On n’accuse pas la police, mais on veut qu’elle saisisse l’assassin et ses complices. L’opinion est impatiente de ces contradictions, de ces louches incertitudes qui l’arrêtent au moment où elle voudrait pouvoir manifester énergiquement toute son horreur pour l’assassinat politique. […] nous voulons savoir de quel crime il faut s’indigner, si c’est d’un assassinat politique ou d’une manœuvre de police. Les deux crimes nous paraîtraient dignes d’exécration.107

La Caricature also saw a connection between what it viewed as a conspiracy surrounding the alleged attempted assassination of the king in November 1832 and how some had talked about the 1789 Revolution: “On sait qu’au sortir de la première révolution, les mystifications étaient devenues fort à la mode; bien des gens, en apprenant l’histoire du coup de pistolet du Pont- Royal, se sont cru rajeunis de 30 ans.”108 La Charge however, used this event to warn about the republicans’ use of violence. This event proved once more that the republicans were a threat to French society and that the king had to react firmly. La Charge’s publicist saw this as a proof that La Caricature, and especially the pear caricatures mocking the king that were flourishing, were dangerous, as in his opinion they incited an assassination of the king – this is why La Charge started to refer to this event as a “poiricide”: a play on the word “parricide” or “regicide” and “poire”. The image of the “The Pear King” was reproduced many times in the caricatures of La Caricature and Le Charivari in the early 1830s, and the king was thus associated with the image of the pear.

106 La Caricature, 29 November 1832. 107 Le National, 21 November 1832. 108 La Caricature, 29 November 1832. 27

This fear of regicide is illustrated in La Charge’s texts on Barataria, and its interpretation of the event as a symbol of where society was potentially heading. The island of Barataria comes from Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote (1605–1615), where Don Quixote’s squire, Sancho Panza, is promised governance over an island called Barataria, which is given to him by a couple of nobles. It turns out that the “gift” was intended to mock him for his lack of knowledge. The first time La Charge mentions the island of Barataria is on 28 October 1832, before the attempted attack on the king, in an article named “Ce qu’est devenue l’ile de Barataria”. It starts by asking the question of what has become of the island governed by “the good” Sancho Panza. The article states that navigators have not heard of it and have not encountered it on their travels “for several years”, similar to the famous Atlantis that was supposed to be at the bottom of the sea: “Peut-être l’île de Barataria avait-elle eu le même sort; du moins, c’était la crainte des historiens et géographes, quand tout à coup, un des compagnons de Lapeyrouse nous en a apporté de fraîches nouvelles.”109 The article continues by recounting the various events that the island had lived through, such as several forms of government. Like France, the island had also experienced revolutions, barricades, shootings and “guillotinades”. “Now it seems calmer, but appearances can be deceitful”, the article states. At this point, it becomes clear that the description of Barataria is also meant to be a description of the events that had happened in France. The article goes on to state that the man governing the island now is “a wise man, humane, pacific” but that he cannot prevent people from “going for the throat”. The author of the article is thus comparing the new governor of Barataria to Louis-Philippe, who was in the same situation when the article was written. The article in the next issue, on 11 November 1832, is entitled “Le poiricide et le [ ], ou échantillon de la manière dont on raisonne dans l’île de Barataria ou bien comme on va de fil en aiguille”. The article contains a more profound description of the governance in Barataria, and also functions as a description of the caricature called “Le Poiricide” (illustration 2). The caricature, depicts Louis-Philippe looking at the Colonne de Juillet in Paris. The man behind

109 La Charge, 28 October 1832. Léonard Rochon de Lapeyrouse was at that time an enseigne de vaisseau, the first officer rank in the French navy. He later became a navy lieutenant and wrote several books on the history of the French navy, which is probably the reason why his name is mentioned here.

28 him is the character Mayeux110 who is about to stab the king. The king is depicted from behind and indicates that he is not aware of Mayeux behind him. We can see a hat next to Mayeux, which suggests that it belongs to him. We can see a piece of paper with the symbol of the Phrygian cap as a signature in the hat. This suggests that the republicans commissioned the murder.111 On the left side, we can see a poster depicting a man stabbing a pear. The image originates from La Caricature, published on 12 April 1832. The caricature, published a few months before La Charge’s, was made by Traviés and was also called “Le Poiricide”. Thus, La Charge’s “poiricide” was a direct answer to La Caricature’s “poiricide”. Furthermore, the caricature attacked La Caricature by depicting a dog urinating on the poster. The attempted murder in La Charge’s image reflects the “murder” of the pear in La Caricature and implies that La Caricature’s “poiricide” could incite to actual muder of the king. The article that accompanies the caricature describes the island of Barataria having a constitution, but the reader is warned not to “be too hasty to conclude” herewith that the island is actually constitutional. Barataria’s constitution contains an article which claims that “the person of the king is inviolable and sacred” (like Louis-Philippe’s Charter of 1830); however, this is how the Baratarians have reasoned: “1. I mock the king, 2. I insult the king, 3. I say, I write, I print that the king has to be killed, 4. One of these days, if someone lets me, I will kill the king…of Barataria.” Just as in the previous issue, the article says that the legislative authority of the island lacks any power to stop this “anomaly”, because although there are laws, tribunals and judges, the Baratarians will simply start again with “renewed vigour”. The governor or the king is not worried since he believes that his righteousness and composure will disarm his enemies and that reason will keep the society in order. This is not correct, according to the article; hence, there is a need for a “different remedy”. This “remedy” implies that the

110 Written Mayheux, Maiheux or Mayeux, was a satirical character popularised by the caricaturist Traviès. Mayeux, the “bossu”, incarnates all the flaws of the bourgeoisie under the July Monarchy. See Elizabeth K. Menon, The Complete Mayeux. Use and Abuse of a French Icon, (Berne, Peter Lang A.G., 1998) and Ségolène Le Men, “Les images sociales du corps”, Histoire du corps, De la Révolution à la Grande Guerre, dir. Alain Corbin, (Paris, Seuil, 2005): 119-143 (on the characters Mayeux, Prudhomme and Macaire). 111 This analysis of the caricature is part of an article titled “Bataille de symbole” that will be published in Textimage. Revue d’étude du dialogue texte-image in 2020, edited by Hélène Campaignolle-Catel, Marianne Simon-Oikawa and Ségolène Le Men. 29 governor should apply more severe methods when dealing with Baratarians who don’t follow the law and that “reason should be followed by force”. Yet another article about the island of Barataria was printed on 25 November the same year. This article is titled “Chapitre complet du poiricide et du régicide ou nouvel échantillon de la manière dont on raisonne et dont on agit dans l’île de Barataria”. It was written two weeks after the attempted attack on the king on 19 November, which, as I mentioned earlier, the authorities concluded was carried out by a young republican student. The article therefore starts by saying: “It is a sad satisfaction when a misfortune arrives and to say: I told you so.” Eight days before the attempted assassination, La Charge had predicted an attack on the king, as described earlier in the article from 11 November. On the day of the assassination attempt, the author writes, they had accused writers from “parties” (meaning the republicans) of encouraging an assassination of the king and announcing a big revolution “for the benefit of the French nation”. As historian Fabrice Erre points out, La Charge appeared to fear that their readers would think they were involved in the attempted assassination and therefore explained why they wrote the article: “We were not in the confidence”, La Charge says. The article’s tone is considerably more aggressive than in previous articles. The author explains that

[l]e gouvernement de l’île de Barataria, par respect pour la légalité, ou pour n’être pas forcé de vous faire pendre, prend des mitaines pour vous dire ces choses-là; moi, je n’en prends pas, parce que je puis, sans danger pour vous, faire éclater mon indignation, et que vous n’en serez pas plus pendus pour cela.112

In the first article called “Le Poiricide et ou ____” the word “régicide” is absent. The reader is supposed to guess the word from the blank space. After the attempted assassination of the king, the next article consequently filled in the blanks: “Chapitre complet du poiricide et du régicide”. The empty space where the reader was supposed to imagine the word “régicide” is, in the article of 25 November, transformed into the actual word, and the word “ou” (or) is removed. The author is noticeably upset about the attempted assassination of the king, but he appears even more outraged about the fact that the comrades of the “brave baratien” (the republican man in real life), the offender behind of the assassination, claimed that it was made

112 La Charge, 25 November 1832. 30 up by the government, which the republicans accused the government of doing. Le National wrote on November 25 that “On pleurera, on trépignera, on criera mort aux républicains, on jurera d’exterminer tous les factieux jusqu’au dernier, et peut-être on ne songera pas à se demander s’il y a eu réellement attentat, et si les partis ne sont pas ici calomniés odieusement par une manœuvre du pouvoir.” La Charge’s comment on this kind of take was to direct the suspicion back on them: “Ils soutiennent qu’un tel attentat n’est pas possible; que c’est une comédie jouée par le gouverneur et par le gouvernement, ce qui est tout un; enfin, qu’ils désavouent le crime, si ce n’est pas une plaisanterie, et que pas un d’entre eux n’a conseillé pareille chose…”113 The articles about Barataria focus first and foremost on the people of the island. They are the subject of criticism, not the government. The author does in fact criticise the governor for being naïve in thinking that “his righteousness and composure will disarm his enemies”, but he states that the governor has not behaved in an unlawful manner, contrary to the Baratarians. The description of the island of Barataria and its inhabitants entails that the reader understands the parallel between Barataria and their own society in which they live. The governor of the island is meant to be Louis-Philippe, and the Baratarians are meant to represent the French population, the ones that are influenced by the opposition. The opposition, according to La Charge, wants to dispose of the king and actually kill him. Philipon’s journals, especially the caricatures published in them, were interpreted by La Charge as an incitement to hurt or kill the king: the “poiricide”, as they called it.

113 La Charge, 25 November 1832. 31

2. La Charge 11 November 1832

In July 1835 a new attempt to assassinate the king was made. A man named Giuseppe Fieschi (1790 – 1836) attempted to assassinate the king at the commemoration of the July revolution. He and his neighbour, a republican man named Pierre Morey, conspired to kill the king with an “infernal machine”. The machine contained 25 gun barrels that could be fired simultaneously. It was Fieschi who built the machine, with the financial help from Morey and Théodore Pépin. The machine was placed in a window in an apartment on 50 boulevard du Temple that Fieschi was renting. As Fieschi fired the machine, Louis-Philippe’s forehead was merely grazed by a bullet, while 13 people were killed on the spot. The number later increased, as 6 more people died in the following days, including officers of the 8th Legion as well as Lieutenant Colonel Rieussec, Marechal Mortier and others. Fieschi was quickly captured and imprisoned and was ultimately executed on 19 February 1836, which was also the case for

32

Moray and Pépin.114 The government rapidly connected the attack to the June insurrection, which Le National noted on 29 July: “L’attentat d’hier n’a rien de commun avec les journées de juin, et la presse ministérielle est forcé de reconnaître que ces faits n’ont entre eux aucune similitude.”115 The news that Le National’s editor, Armand Carrel, was arrested and transferred to the Sainte-Pélagie was also published in the same issue. The journalist commented that: “Nous ne savons de quel prétexte on cherchera à colorer cette arrestation”, suggesting that Carrel had been arrested in connection to the attacks. The government-friendly Journal des Débats reacted with horror to the attack: “Plus on réfléchit à l’attentat, plus il indigne et il révolte. Quel excès de fanatisme ! Quelle depravation morale ! Dans quell temps vivons-nous, grand Dieu !”116 The attack resulted in a proposal for new censorship laws in 1835. The repressive “September Laws” were thus put into action. Article 7 of the Charter of 1830 was amended so that images were no longer protected. This was justified by the argument that the image “encouraged to action” and “brought shame on our order and values” as the Minister of Justice, Jean-Charles Persil, described it.117 The amendment established a distinction between text and image, as it claimed that the image was now considered a bigger threat than text, and that the caricature was to be viewed as “a call for action” rather than just as an expression of opinion. The July Monarchy’s politics are known as the politics of the juste milieu, a constitutional balance between the power of the king and the chambers. Louis-Philippe’s politics of the juste milieu were constantly criticised by the opposition, especially in the press. The republican pressure was becoming more and more apparent, however, and the July Monarchy ended in 1848 with a new revolution, this time conceived entirely by the republicans, which marked the birth of the Second Republic. Amy Wiese Forbes addresses the influence of satire, and especially caricatures, on the rise of republicanism in the 1830s in The Satiric Decade. Satire and the Rise of Republicanism in France, 1830–1840, where she also mentions La Charge and its relation to La Caricature.118 As I will furthermore argue, it

114 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 685. 115 Le National, 29-30 July, 1835. 116 Journal des Débats, 30 July, 1835. 117 Lois, décret, ordonnaces, réglements, et avis du conseil d’état, 35 (Paris: Imprimeurs de l’ordre des avocats, 1836), 269. 118 Amy Wiese Forbes, The Satiric Decade. Satire and Rise of Republicanism in France 1830–1840 (Plymouth: Lexington Books, 2010), 5–6. 33 becomes clear that La Charge’s narrative against the republican movement was fuelled by a fear of what the movement could achieve and was achieving in this troubled period. To understand the journal’s position and its understanding of the political climate in the beginning of the 1830s, I will now present La Charge more thoroughly and explain how the newspaper came to be.

1.2 LA CHARGE

The satirical newspaper, whose full title was La Charge ou les Folies contemporaines, recueil de dessins satiriques et philosophiques pour servir à l'histoire de nos extravagances 119 was created as a medium through which to defend the king and the government, as a direct answer to La Caricature and, later on, to Le Charivari. The title La Charge is a clear reference to the title La Caricature, since “charge” was also used in reference to caricatures. I will also argue that the title indicates that La Charge’s creator wanted to place the journal in the satirical newspaper landscape, as a “charge” against the other satirical journals and against the republican movement. La Charge consisted of four pages comprising articles, a description of the caricature belonging to the issue and a final page containing cultural recommendations, for example literature and theatre reviews, small notes120 and advertisements. A caricature was published separately in each issue. Le Charivari was first published in December 1832, nearly two months after La Charge. La Charge lasted only slightly over a year, from 7 October 1832 to 9 February 1834.121 Every issue contained four pages of text, in the format in-8. La Charge published one caricature for every issue, except for two issues where two caricatures were published (number 13 and 30 in 1833). In the “prospectus” (4 pages, in-8), the promotional leaflet for the first issue, the editor of La Charge, who signs “Bellair” at the end of every issue, writes: “le crayon historique de nos artistes,122 s’il ne s’attaque, politiquement parlant, qu’au roi et aux ministres, ne remplit

119 Bibliothèque nationale de France, Department of Philosophy, History, and Human Sciences, FOL-LC2-1326. 120 Usually satirical jokes. 121 La Charge published 71 issues and 73 lithographs in total. 122 By “our artists”, Bellair means other newspapers such as La Caricature.

34 qu’une partie de sa mission. […] Il y a donc, dans la série de nos caricatures, une lacune à remplir, et c’est cette tâche que La Charge va s’imposer.”123 Bellair affirms that there was a void in the satirical landscape in 1832, a period in which artists had until then only attacked the king and his government. The void would thus be La Charge’s mission to fill. The editor also asserts in the first issue that the paper’s ambition is to “attack the state when it is necessary”124. Bellair repeats several times in the course of the first few issues that the journal is “independent”: “Qu’on se garde de conclure que la CHARGE veuille se faire le servile champion du pouvoir. A l’instant même nous jetterions cette page au feu. La CHARGE NE SERA JAMAIS A LA SOLDE DU MINISTÈRE.”125 But is this declaration in accordance with how the paper actually operated? I will argue that La Charge targeted first and foremost the opposition, and that the journal functioned as a protector of the king and his government. Others have also supported this claim, such as Fabrice Erre in his thesis L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848 from 2007.126 In this thesis, I will demonstrate how this claim can be defended. La Charge’s editor explains the reason behind the creation of the satirical journal and emphasises the role of the caricature: “Obligés par l’usage ou, mieux encore, par un sentiment de convenance, de rendre compte au public du motif qui nous fait entreprendre une publication satirique, où le crayon se charger de traduire une partie de notre pensée.”127 This suggests that the editor felt a need to explain his motif, and was perhaps conscious that the journal was a strange contribution to the satirical press since it differed from the oppositional satirical press. I will come back to La Charge’s intentions and how the editor explained the project of the journal in subsequent chapters. The year La Charge was established, 1832, as I mentioned earlier, marked the year of the insurrection, the republican uprising in Paris on 5 and 6 June. La Charge’s creation is probably related to the increasing fear of the republicans during 1832, since the journal did not

123 La Charge, “prospectus”. 124 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 125 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 126 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, Part I, 211. 127 La Charge, 7 October 1832.

35 merely attack the opposition, but the republican movement as well, which in La Charge’s rhetoric becomes the same thing. As Erre points out, many satirical journals stopped publishing in 1832 because of the government’s actions against them.128 La Charge published its first issue in October, only four months after the insurrection. Many of its articles and caricatures warn against the republicans, focusing on why they are a danger to society. I therefore argue that La Charge mirrors the government’s change in politics in general, but especially in regards to how it perceived the republican movement – starting with a sympathetic attitude towards the republicans in 1830, to fearing them after the events in 1832. The once republican paper Le Figaro is said also to have been “bought” by the government in the same year,129 which reinforces the theory that the government developed a new strategy in reaction to La Caricature: the use of the same methods in hope of gaining the same popularity. This did not have the result that the government had hoped for, as I will discuss later. It is not quite clear how La Charge was established: some historians and bibliographers argue that the government created it, or at least sponsored it, while others merely argue that it was created to defend the state without claiming that the state was directly involved in its creation. One of the first scholars to assert that La Charge was sponsored by the government, at least according to my research, is Howard P. Vincent, in Daumier and His World (1968). Vincent writes that La Charge was “created in 1833 and sponsored by the government”.130 There are a few problems with this statement. Firstly, the date 1833 is wrong, since La Charge’s first publication was in October 1832. Secondly, the footnote where Vincent refers to the claim that La Charge was sponsored says “File in the Bibliothèque Nationale” without any more information.131 After contacting the BnF I have not been able to trace this mysterious

128 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, Part I, 207. 129 Erre, “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’‘attentat horrible’ du 19 Novembre 1832”, 2, Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, 200. 130 Howard P. Vincent, Daumier and His World, (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968), 52. 131 Vincent also refers to an interview with Philipon and presents Philipon’s answer as a reaction to La Charge. However, the interview that Vincent refers to does not mention La Charge and I was not able to find the part that Vincent refers to (and translated, it would seem): “The moment one of the ministry’s organs announced the publication of caricatures sketched in a spirit opposed to ours, [it] proclaimed loudly that the grease crayon was henceforth a powerful instrument.” Vincent, Daumier and His World, 52.

36

“file” or any files that can prove that La Charge was sponsored by the government. Later references to the theory that La Charge was state-sponsored refer back to Vincent,132 which I believe explains the reason why the statement that La Charge was sponsored by the government has been replicated in other works that mention the paper.133 David S. Kerr states in Caricature and Political Culture that “the government managed to launch La Charge.” The source of this claim is not given, however. Nevertheless, Kerr refers to an interesting source, from the La Tribune newspaper of 6 October 1832, the day before La Charge’s publication. Kerr quotes from the paper:

Le Juste-Milieu, cruellement flagellé par La Caricature, a résolu de faire publier aussi un journal de caricatures : mais il voudrait un peu plus d’esprit que dans les plates lithographies du Figaro. La police a ce qu’il lui faut pour le texte, auquel plusieurs grands personnages ne dédaigneront pas, d’ailleurs, de travailler. Mais, malgré les offres de ses courtiers à plusieurs jeunes artistes de principaux ateliers de Paris, elle n’avait pu, dimanche dernier, en décider encore aucun à lui prostituer ses crayons.134

The quote is interesting, as it suggests that La Tribune was aware of the upcoming publication of La Charge. The newspaper also creates a connection between Le Figaro and La Charge, as if the latter was created because of the failure of the first. The text suggests, with irony, that the police were writing La Charge’s text and that they were looking for young Parisian artists, but that no-one wanted to “prostitute his pen” to the journal. La Caricature also suggests this in a text highlighting their caricatures’ quality compared to the ones that the police had ordered: “La Caricature se doit à elle-même de rester en tout point bien au-dessus des ignobles images que la police commande à ce qu’elle appelle ses artistes.”135 The text was published only a few weeks after La Charge started publishing, so it is likely that it refers to the journal. Other scholars such as Robert Justin Golstein are more cautious in referring to La Charge as, for example, “founded under government inspiration.”136 Fabrice Erre writes: “Le

132 For example, Richard Terdiman’s Discourse/Counter-Discourse. The Theory and Practice of Symbolic Resistance in Nineteenth-Century France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985). 133 Amy Wiese Forbes writes that La Charge was “a government-sponsored satirical paper”. Forbes, The Satiric Decade, 133. 134 From La Tribune, 6 October 1832, as cited in Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830 – 1848, 172. 135 La Caricature, 25 October 1832. 136 Robert Justin Goldstein, Censorship of Political Caricature in Nineteenth Century France (Ohio: The Kent State University Press, 1989), 148.

37

‘Juste-milieu’ ne s’arrête pas en si bon chemin. Le 7 octobre 1832, il soutient la publication d’un nouvel hebdomadaire satirique intitulé La Charge.”137 Some factors suggest that the state played a role in its creation, especially since Le Figaro, which I mentioned earlier, is said to have been “bought” by the government the same year.138 Yet, the question to ask is what role the government played in the process of La Charge’s foundation. There are also some uncertainties about how and when the journal stopped. Some historians write that the journal “disappeared”139 because there is no proof that it stopped its distribution, and there are no mentions in La Charge itself to suggest that the journal had any plan to suspend or cancel its publications, but equally there is no proof that it continued to exist.140 However, there are some factors that would suggest that the journal “disappeared” because it was unpopular. This would also support the claim that the caricature works and is at its best when it is in opposition to power in this period. Journals that were struck by censorship laws had a tendency to increase their circulation afterwards because they gained the people’s attention.141 As stated in the introduction, historians have generally stated that La Charge was an unpopular journal. A bibliographer called Georges Vicaire (1853–1921) wrote about La Charge in Manuel de l’amateur de livres du XIXe siècle, published in 1894, stating:

Ce journal gouvernemental, fondé pour combattre l’effet produit par la Caricature de Philipon, est, au point de vue littéraire et artistique, des plus médiocres ; aucun article n’est signé ; quant aux lithographies qu’il a publiées, elles semblent émaner d’un unique dessinateur qui signait MDP ou DMP ou MD. ; son principal mérite est d’être excessivement rare et l’on trouve difficilement une collection complète.142

137 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 211. 138 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 12. 139 Goldstein, Censorship of Political Caricature in Nineteenth Century France, 148. 140 Georges Vicaire, Manuel de l'amateur de livres du XIXe siècle, preface by Maurice Tourneux, 1801–1893, Volume 1, (Paris: Librairie A. Rouquette, 1894), 259. 141 Luce-Marie Albiès, “Caricatures et pamphlets politiques (1830–1835)” in Histoire par l’image, http://www.histoire-image.org/etudes/caricatures-pamphlets-politiques-1830-1835 (accessed 13 September 2016). 142 Vicaire, Manuel de l'amateur de livres du XIXe siècle, 252–253. “This governmental paper, which was founded to combat the effect produced by Philipon’s La Caricature, is from a literary and artistic point of view truly mediocre. No articles are signed, and the lithographs seem to have been produced by the same unique artist who signed MDP or DMP or MD. It’s [the journal’s] principal merit is that it is extremely rare and that one finds a complete collection of it with difficulty.”

38

Vicaire’s analysis of the journal is that its artistic and literary qualities are mediocre. As he points out, the articles in the paper are not signed. This makes it difficult to find out how many people contributed to the journal and how many were part of the journal’s editorial staff. La Charge’s caricaturist signs the caricatures with what seems to be initials that change for almost every image, as Vicaire also notes. The acronym varies between MDP, DMP or sometimes just MD. However, there are some indications as to who this artist was. Some lithographs that come from La Charge but were probably printed on separate sheets are archived in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France in the collection of Baron Carl de Vinck.143 Here, some of the caricatures are filed under the name of Michel Delaporte (1806–1872).144 This does not necessarily mean that he was the actual illustrator, but that they were copyrighted under his name. Interestingly, some caricatures from La Caricature are also filed under the same Michel Delaporte. In one example, a caricature published in La Caricature on 2 February 1832 and called “Naissance du juste milieu” bears the inscription “lith. De Delaporte”. The image is however signed by Grandville and Eugène Forest. The lithographic printing is thus attributed to Delaporte. Yet, in La Charge, the lithographs are usually signed as “lith. S. Durier”. In the records of the Bibliothèque Nationale, Michel Delaporte’s full name is written as Michel Pierre Delaporte. The acronyms mentioned earlier – MDP, DMP and MD – would thus support the theory that Michel Pierre Delaporte was the artist behind some of La Charge’s caricatures – if not all of them. The bottom of every lithographic caricature from La Charge is signed as “lith. S. Durier, passage Dauphine 7”. This suggests that La Charge’s lithographic printer, who was not the same as the printer for the journal, was Sylvestre-Nicolas Durier (1792–18?145),146 one of

143 The Bibliothèque nationale de France describes the collection’s utility: “Pour qui s’intéresse à l’histoire de France, deux collections conservées au département des Estampes et de la photographie de la Bibliothèque nationale de France se révèlent essentielles. Elles sont constituées d’estampes, de dessins, de photographies, d’affiches, de défets de presse et permettent d’éclairer et de relater une histoire de France par l’image.” 144 There are a total of five lithographs from La Charge that are filed under Michel Delaporte in the catalogue of the BnF. https://catalogue.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/cb134862091 Fabrice Erre also attributes a caricature published in La Charge to Delaporte. Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 213. 145 The date of his death is unknown. 146 Dictionnaire des imprimeurs-lithographes du XIXe siècle, “DURIER *Silvestre, Nicolas”, elec.enc.sorbonne.fr, /http://elec.enc.sorbonne.fr/imprimeurs/node/22274 (accessed 30 October, 2019).

39 the founders of La Silhouette.147 This is an interesting connection, since Durier worked with Charles Philipon before he created La Caricature, as I mentioned earlier. On 30 June 1833, La Charge’s editor admitted that the journal had not succeeded so far, “le succès de la Charge, difficilement obtenu”,148 but that they would improve it by working with new caricaturists who would make the publication “plus piquante et plus variée”. The editor declared that they would procure popular artists who would give them bigger and more colourful drawings. Every issue of La Charge incorporated a note asking the readers to “save” La Charge, which they themselves describe as “une veritable conspiration pour la tranquilité et le bonheur de chacun”. The note furthermore asked the “amis de la raison, du bon ordre et d’une sage liberté” to publicise the journal and to recruit subscribers among their acquaintance.149 These notes do prove to some extent that the journal did not gain as much attention as the editor wished. The changes that were made apparently did not help the journal’s popularity. I cannot find any “popular artists” that started to contribute, for instance. In 1835, a year after La Charge had stopped publishing, the government hardened its suppression of the press, and especially the caricature. This resulted in a revision of Article 20 on the freedom of the press, called the “September Laws” that I mentioned earlier, which introduced pre-publication censorship on visual expression in print:

Aucun dessin, aucune gravures, lithographies, médailles et estampes, aucun emblème de quelque nature et espèce qu’ils soient, ne pourront être publiés, exposés ou mis en vente sans autorisation préalable du Ministre de l’Interieur à Paris et des préfets dans les départements.

147 Fabrice Erre notes this connection as well: “Seul le lithographe signe les planches : il s’agit de Durier, un des fondateurs autrefois de La Silhouette.” L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 211. 148 La Charge, 30 June 1833. The note was published outside of the journal, Georges Vicaire observes: “Ce numéro est accompagné de l’avis suivant imprimé sur un petit carré de papier blanc: ‘Avis. – Le succès de la Charge, difficilement obtenu, a mis les éditeurs en position de faire, à cette publication, les améliorations dont elle était susceptible. A compter de ce mois, une nouvelle collaboration la rendra plus piquante et plus variée sous le rapport de la rédaction et des dessins. Des artistes, d’une réputation populaire, nous prêteront le secours de leur talent, et les abonnés recevront, aussi souvent que les sujets le demanderont, des lithographies plus grandes et coloriées avec soin.’” Vicaire, Manuel de l'amateur de livres du XIXe siècle, 252–253. 149 This note was featured at the end of every issue, after the “Conditions d’abonnement”. Eugène Hatin, Bibliographie historique et critique de la presse périodique française ou Catalogue systématique et raisonné de tous les écrits périodiques de quelque valeur publiés ou ayant circulé en France depuis l'origine du journal jusqu'à nos jours (Paris: Firmin-Didot frères, fils, 1866), 382.

40

As stated earlier, not much research has been done on La Charge, with the exceptions of Vincent, Kerr, Erre, Goldstein and Forbes who include the journal in their works, some more than the others, on caricatures during the July Monarchy. La Charge is also sometimes mentioned briefly in other works or articles on caricatures, yet this is insignificant compared to the research on Philipon’s newspapers. In his publication from 1968, Vincent describes La Charge rather harshly, stating that

La Charge floundered along for a year, attracting little attention, its text dull beside the verbal fireworks of Philipon and its lithographs pedestrian in contrast to Daumier’s precise and powerful cartoons. La Charge may have been founded from conviction, but it failed to carry any. Only because it was intended to stop the Philipon-Daumier assault does it receive notice today.150

As I have already mentioned, during the July Monarchy, printing became easier and cheaper. “By the 1830s […] journalism itself was being “revolutionised” – transformed by the improvements in papermaking and print technology that signaled the end of the age of the wooden handpress,” Elizabeth L. Eisenstein explains.151 In one of La Charge’s first issues, the journal’s editor commented on the lithographic improvements and how these improvements had changed the way artists were able to work. This shows a consciousness of how La Charge would be contributing to this rather new mass medium: “L’invention de la lithographie a changé tout cela. Le dessinateur s’est trouvé tout à coup graveur ou lithographe, ce qui est la même chose pour le résultat, savoir : de donner des épreuves identiques du dessin primitif de l’artiste.”152 Philipon also comments on this in La Caricature’s “prospectus”, the promotional leaflet of the first issue, which was also called “numéro-modèle”, by stating that the method of engraving153 was too costly to make illustrations accessible but that the recent lithographic improvements had made it easier to produce illustrated periodicals.154

150 Vincent, Daumier and His World, 52. 151 Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, Divine Art, Infernal Machine. The Reception of Printing in the West from First Impressions to the Sense of an Ending (Pennsylvania: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011), 204. 152 La Charge, 21 October 1832. 153 The difference between the method of engraving and the lithographic method is, to put it simply, that the former is the procedure of engraving an image onto wood or a metal plate, while lithography is the method of drawing an image on a piece of limestone which is then pressed and transferred on a sheet of paper. 154 La Caricature, prospectus or “numéro-modèle”, 1830.

41

However, although the lithographic method had improved in the 19th century compared to the 18th, the production and printing of a lithograph still required a considerable amount of time. The time between an event happening and the creation and publication of a caricature in a newspaper could be as much as two weeks. Le Men also notes that the lithographic process required great technical and crafting skills, since any retouch would leave a mark on the image.155 The word “lithography” comes from the Greek words “líthos”, meaning “stone”, and “gráphein”, which can be translated as “to write”: to write on a stone. The drawings were hand- drawn, backwards, on a lithographic limestone with a pencil, a quill or a brush containing lithographic ink.156 The drawing on the stone would then be transferred and printed onto separate sheets of paper, which used the same stone for each print. Ségolène Le Men stresses that this procedure required the art of the “premier jet” (first attempt), and that there was no place for mistakes. There were ways of correcting mistakes, but the modified element would frequently be evident in the final product.157 If the caricature included colourisation, the process would take even longer than for a regular lithograph. Caricatures were therefore seldom coloured in the early 1830s. La Charge published only five caricatures that included colour, and three of these had merely a tiny bit of red colouring.158 The rather complicated method of lithographic printing demonstrates why caricatures in La Caricature and La Charge were placed on separate sheets to the rest of the journal and not incorporated with the text, since it was very difficult to print a caricature between articles. In La Charivari, however, the caricatures were incorporated into the article, which explains why its caricatures were not as technically good as those in La Caricature. La Caricature and La Charge thus used different printers for the caricatures and for the rest of the journal. As I discussed earlier, La Charge’s caricatures were printed by Sylvestre Nicholas Durier and his printing store was situated in Paris at Passage Dauphine 7. The rest of the journal was printed at the Imprimerie de Ducessois, and the address was Quai des Augustins 55, where

155 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 49. 156 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 49. 157 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 50. 158 One of the lithographic caricatures, number 26 from 30 June 1833, was published separately and was coloured entirely.

42

La Charge’s office was also located. The two addresses were only a couple of hundred metres apart from each other. On one occasion, La Charge commented on the lithographic stone which the printer, Durier, used. The stone had broken during the printing process, which would have been rather unsettling because lithographic stones were quite expensive, being imported.159 Due to this incident, La Charge had to postpone the publication of one of its caricatures the following week: “La pierre portant notre dessin n°4, ayant cassé sous la presse au commencement du tirage, cet accident nous force à paraître sans ce dessin. Il sera donné avec le dessin n°5, la semaine prochaine.”160 However, the article commenting on the caricature had been printed without the lithograph, which they specifically addressed in the issue the week after. Philipon’s journals, La Caricature and Le Charivari, were sold either by subscription or at the publisher’s location, and were therefore rarely sold on the streets.161 La Charge was also first and foremost sold through subscription, and the editor specified that the caricatures would not be sold separately, which meant that the only way to procure a caricature was by buying the journal. On the last page of the first issue of La Charge, the editor Bellair explained how readers could subscribe to La Charge:

La Charge donne, par an, cinquante-deux lithographies exécutées avec talent. Chaque numéro, compose d’une feuille de texte et d’une lithographie, paraît exactement le dimanche. Aucune lithographie de la Charge n’étant mise dans le commerce, les souscripteurs seuls en auront la collection. Les marchands ne pourront se la procurer qu’en s’abonnant. […] On souscrit à Paris, au bureau de la Charge, quai des Augustins, n°55, en envoyant, franc de port, une lettre ou un bulletin d’abonnement signé.162

This meant that the caricatures could only be procured by subscribing to La Charge. Bellair also included a “most important note” to these subscription instructions:

La publication de la Charge étant une véritable conspiration pour la tranquillité et le bonheur de chacun, et son prix étant excessivement minime, le grand nombre de souscripteurs pourra seul nous faire atteindre le but que nous nous proposons. Nous prions donc les amis de la raison, du bon ordre et d’une sage liberté, de recruter pour la Charge parmi leurs connaissances. Nous

159 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 50. 160 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 161 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 135. 162 La Charge, 7 October 1832.

43

empruntons cette forme nouvelle de recrutement à un journal très-répandu, nous espérons qu’il nous pardonnera cette liberté.163

This note at the end of La Charge was present in all of its issues, until the last one published on 9 February 1834. It did not change at all during that time. The journal asked their readers to recruit among their acquaintances, as I have already mentioned. The fact that the journal did not change this note during the almost two years it existed could imply that it suffered from a lack of subscriptions until the end. The note also explains that, in order to reach its goal of maintaining a low subscription price while still being a “conspiracy for tranquillity and for everybody’s happiness”, the journal needed to have a large number of subscriptions, something it probably lacked. Writing about economic difficulties and asking for new subscribers was not uncommon. La Caricature also did something similar – Philipon often wrote about how many fines the journal had received and what their costs were to the readers. La Charge’s editor also mentions in the final sentence that “Nous empruntons cette forme nouvelle de recrutement à un journal très-répandu, nous espérons qu’il nous pardonnera cette liberté.” The “well-known journal” is La Caricature, from whom they are borrowing the method. La Caricature’s note was: “Le grand nombre de souscriptions pouvant seul nous faire atteindre le but que nous nous proposons, nous prions les amis de La Caricature de recruter pour elle parmi leurs connaissances.” La Charge’s reference to La Caricature here is perhaps intended to be a mockery of the journal, to mock the way it wanted to recruit new subscribers. However, the fact that the note remained intact throughout La Charge’s existence indicates that the journal was also serious about recruiting more subscribers. On 21 October 1832, La Charge published a message in which the editor claimed they had received a letter from a reader, signed “R. de St.-A…”, which he states “nous donnent l’espérance très-fondée de voir notre publication goûtée par la saine partie du public”. The message from the reader says that “se rendant à l’invitation faite par la Charge, de contribuer à augmenter le nombre des CONSPIRATEURS164 pour la tranquillité et le bonheur de

163 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 164 The emphasis of the word “conspirator” probably plays on the fact that La Charge often called the republicans and Legitimists “conspirators”, suggesting that they were conspiring together against the government, and that La Charge was a “conspiracy” against the conspiracy of the opposition.

44 chacun.”165 By attending to La Charge’s invitation to help augment the number of “conspirators,” he had thus managed to recruit two new subscribers. To which La Charge’s editor commented that they wished to expand the “conspiracy”: “Nous désirons que la CONSPIRATION s’étende, et nous ferons de notre mieux pour l’alimenter.”166 The reader’s message referred to the “most important note”, in which La Charge asked its readers to recruit new subscribers among their friends and relatives. La Charge often repeated the line about its role as “conspirators for tranquillity and happiness”, which is the way it defended its role as an “opposition to the opposition”. Although newspapers in the early 19th century often published letters from subscribers in their publications does not mean that they were always from from real readers, since it was common to publish fictional letters.167 Erre argues that it was important to incorporate the readers in the publications: “Un lien étroit existe entre le journal et ses lecteurs, le premier s’efforçant d’intégrer le second en le rendant complice ou collaborateur, notamment par l’attention portée à son courrier, qu’il soit réel ou imaginaire.”168 As David S. Kerr argues, La Charge, like Le Figaro, was apprehensive about the medium of the caricature: “La Charge had profound reservations about the weapon that it had chosen to wield in the king’s defence. […] Caricature was only morally justifiable if the caricaturist acted from true conviction.”169 This argument makes La Charge’s project all the more contradictory, since the journal criticised the use of caricature through the use of caricatures. What was a morally justifiable caricature? In an article entitled “La caricature graphique et la caricature sculptée”, La Charge argues that a good caricature is like a good comedy, and that for a caricature to be good it has to have quality, and: “Il faut, d’abord, qu’elle ne soit pas mauvaise….c’est-à-dire, qu’il y ait de l’esprit, du talent, de la justesse, mais aussi de la justice. […] Moralement parlant, la bonne foi, la conviction justifient tout.”170 But what is this “spirit, talent, accuracy and justice”? By explaining what a caricature should be, what a good caricature is, La Charge criticises the oppositional caricatures for not being those things, implying that they lack spirit, talent, accuracy and justice. I will come back to how La Charge

165 La Charge, 21 October 1832. 166 La Charge, 21 October 1832. 167 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 48. 168 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 44. 169 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 174. 170 La Charge, 21 October 1832. 45 portrayed the oppositional press. Who were the readers of La Charge? We have to assume that the readers were first and foremost from Paris, or at least from urban centres, as was the case for most journals in this period, since illiteracy was even higher in non-urban areas than in the cities. Furthermore, economically, non-urban areas were often very poor and the people who lived in them could not afford to buy or subscribe to many publications. Even in more wealthy rural centres, people could still not afford to buy journals.171 The rural parts of France were excluded from the press’s public, which meant that around 80% of the population did not have access to newspapers. Christophe Charle writes:

Pour définir ou évaluer le public d’un journal spécifique […] force est de se rabattre sur des indices indirects : le prix au numéro, la part des abonnés, la répartition de la diffusion entre marché national, régional ou local, les types de rédacteurs qui interviennent dans le journal, le degré de personnalisation des signatures, le contenu et le styles des publicités, la part de la politique, des nouvelles générales, du sport, des photos, etc.172

The actual public of a journal such as La Charge is difficult to trace.173 But who was La Charge’s proclaimed and intended, or ideal, public?174 Can we attempt to guess who the readers were based on the people La Charge seemed to address the articles and caricatures to? Based on the political affiliation La Charge had, its public was probably a pro-government and bourgeois one. However, it did seek out a public that had an interest in caricatures. Since La Charge was using Philipon’s model and his references, by referring to caricatures published in La Caricature, it seems that the journal sought to speak to the same public that read Philipon’s journal. Based on the letters from readers that were published in La Charge, it appears that some of the readers were quite surprised by La Charge’s critique of the opposition.175 I will discuss La Charge’s and La Caricature’s relation to the public sphere in Chapter 6.

171 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 24. 172 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 17. 173 Christophe Charle describes the difficulty in finding the right public for the newspapers and journals in the early 19th century France: “Évaluer ce public à partir des tirages des journaux est difficile.” Charles, Le siècle de la presse, 24. 174 All journals had an intended public, but it is arguably almost impossible to retrieve. Yet, the fact that the journals had an intended public is interesting to study because it can reflect upon the journal’s intentions. As Fabrice Erre notes: “Ainsi le lecteur est-il considéré selon un modèle théorique, une projection des préoccupations et de l’esprit du journal. On considère comme acquis qu’il existe une identification exacte entre les deux. Cela implique une complicité et un apport réciproque : le journal se bat pour son public, qui, en riant, adhère à son discours.” Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 48. 175 La Charge, 11 November 1832.

46

There were only four journals that included caricatures in their publications at that time: La Caricature, Le Figaro, La Charge and Le Charivari.176 My contribution to the field of research will be to place La Charge as the central focus of the thesis and to attempt to analyse and use La Charge more independently, trying to understand its message and function within the context of the caricature press at the time, with particular reference to its opponent, La Caricature. I will also argue that to analyse the journal from its own point of view can give us a different perspective on its role as an intervention in the satirical public sphere.

1.3 THESIS QUESTION

My objective in this thesis is to analyse the journal La Charge as an independent newspaper and analyse the period from its point of view. I will analyse La Charge’s position in the public sphere in France at the beginning of the 1830s. I will look at how it positioned itself individually and in relation to other satirical journals, especially La Caricature, its counterpart. The question of intentions is therefore relevant to examine. Consequently, I will explore the methods La Charge used to achieve its goals, such as how it used caricatures. What other means did La Charge make use of? How did it counter the opposition’s caricatures? What was the purpose of the journal and what was its intended effect? I have already presented some of the intentions expressed by the editor of La Charge whereby he criticises the oppositional press. It is safe to say that La Charge was created as a reaction to the opposition, and especially to La Caricature. A comparison between La Charge and La Caricature is therefore arguably inevitable. How was La Charge affected by its role as an “opposition to the opposition”? I want to contrast first and foremost the two journal’s use of caricatures, and how they attacked their opponents. But what does this tell us about the use of caricatures in a political, polemical situation more generally? Furthermore, what can the anti-oppositional satire tell us about the period? By placing La Charge in its political rhetorical context and in relation to La Caricature, I will attempt to explore how the caricature functions when it positions itself as a “reaction” to

176 Erre, “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’‘attentat horrible’ du 19 Novembre 1832”, 2. 47 other caricatures. I will analyse La Charge not only as a reaction to La Caricature and to the political situation in France at that time, but also as a performative intervention in a debate with and about caricatures. What kind of intervention was La Charge and in what kind of debate?

1.4 THESIS STRUCTURE

In order to answer these questions, I have chosen to arrange the thesis and its different chapters as follows: In chapter 2, following immediately after this introduction, I will present the theory and methodology that are relevant to the thesis. I discuss how I define caricatures and which theories I will apply in my analysis of La Charge. Chapter 3 will focus on the contestation of symbols and emblems in the caricatures of La Charge and La Caricature by comparing the two journal’s use of symbols. In chapter 4, I will trace the concept of revolution in France in the early 1830s. I will explore how La Charge commented on and represented both the 1789 Revolution and the one in 1830, often through the use of the symbols presented in the previous chapter. Chapters 3 and 4 explore the use of caricatures in a political context. I will argue that the use of symbols and other representations is crucial to understanding how La Charge presented certain arguments on political matters and how it intervened in the public debate. Chapters 3, 4 and 5 will thus analyse La Charge’s caricatures deeply and explore which symbols and references the journal used. Chapter 5 will explore representations of “the people” in the images in La Charge and other journals. I will attempt to explore different notions of who “the people” were and how to place La Charge’s portrayal of them in both its caricatures and in its text. In chapter 6, I will demonstrate how the printing press and the caricature functioned in French public spaces in the 1830s. I will explore how La Charge operated in the public sphere and how it commented on the printing press and lithographic caricatures. Chapter 7 will explore La Charge’s opinion on the Saint-Simonian Movement and the Romantic Movement and why it is important for the understanding of the journal’s project. Thus, in chapters 6 and 7, I will explore the broader

48 context of the caricature, including how the caricature intervened in public spaces, and I will analyse La Charge’s diagnosis of the public sphere and society.

49

2. THEORY AND METHODOLOGY

How did the caricatures in La Charge function as polemical intervention during the early 1830s in France? To answer this question, I will make use of my main source material for this thesis, La Charge itself. The caricatures always contain a title and/or a subtitle (sometimes written as a dialogue).177 Most of the caricatures also contain text in the lithography, for example as labels explaining the different objects and/or people illustrated. Although I will work with the totality of the journal, including the articles and notes, I consider the caricatures to be the core material of the thesis. La Charge’s originality distinguishes itself the most in its caricatures, especially in relation to other satirical journals from the same period. The political utterances and commentaries are also expressed in their most simplified and explicit manner when they take the form of caricatures. The thesis will therefore highlight the caricatures published in La Charge more than the texts, although I will use and analyse the articles and notes featured in the issues. The caricature as a historical object can be problematic and raises questions about the methodological approach. By analysing the caricature’s polemical context, we can understand the image’s content and meaning better. This works both ways, since by analysing a caricature we can also understand the period’s political and rhetorical context better. Caricatures can tell us something about the historical context and political thinking of a specific period and, conversely, we need to understand the context to analyse the caricatures. Yet, how can we interpret their meaning? How can we analyse caricatures? Furthermore, what differentiates a caricature from a written text as a historical source? To answer these questions, I will look at three different aspects that constitute a caricature. The first one is its form: the characteristics of caricatures as visual expressions. Another is its content: what kind of content we can find in caricatures. Here, I will discuss the use of symbols and signs in caricatures. Furthermore, I wish to analyse the images as political utterances. The third aspect I will describe is therefore the caricature’s performative function, where I will argue that the caricatures published in La Charge can be analysed as an

177 Except for one caricature published on 9 June 1833 that does not contain any title or subtitle in the lithograph. 50 intervention in a polemical situation. First, however, I will attempt to define what caricature images are.

2.1 FORM: WHAT IS A CARICATURE?

La caricature peut être comprise comme un phénomène culturel qui utilise le rire comme une arme politique et satirique, comme une attitude commune au moment où la presse et le journal illustré créent une connivence entre rieurs, et enfin comme un art qui manie l’ironie, le grotesque, la déformation et l’humour.178

This is how art historian Ségolène Le Men defines caricatures as a cultural phenomenon. She highlights laughter as both a satirical and political weapon for the caricaturist and suggests that the images often use irony, the grotesque, deformation and humour to generate laughter. However, it is rather difficult to find, and perhaps give, an authoritative definition of the caricature as a specific genre, especially since the genre evolved and changed in parallel to the printing press industry during the 19th and 20th centuries. Historically, there have been many descriptions that sometimes differ from each other. Nevertheless, I will attempt to provide elements of a definition which I believe is adequate for the genre’s status in 1830s France, and particularly for caricatures published in newspapers. A caricature is an image that is painted, engraved or drawn on a surface. At the beginning of the 19th century, caricatures were usually printed in black and white, but some could also be coloured afterwards, if they were lithographs. The caricatures I will study were mostly lithographs, which were printed in journals on a separate sheet, and were intended for mass production. Art historian Bertrand Tillier defines caricatures as “media objects”179 that derive from the “culture of the immediately visible.”180 The immediacy lies in the caricature’s production, which has to be relatively fast if it is commenting on a current event, but also in its need to be visible and understandable to the reader at a glance.

178 Ségolène Le Men, “La recherche sur la caricature du xixe siècle : état des lieux”, Perspective, 3 (2009): 426– 460. http://journals.openedition.org/perspective/1332 (accessed 21 August 2019). 179 Tillier, À la Charge !, 107. 180 Tillier, À la Charge !, 121.

51

As a visual medium, caricatures convey imitations or exaggerated characterisations of something or someone, generally with the intention of creating a comical, satirical and/or provoking effect.181 Caricaturists often exaggerate a person’s physical trait, either to mock the person or to insinuate something about a person’s morals through his or her look. It is not necessarily the person depicted who is exaggerated; sometimes it can be the situation, or the overall subject. As images, caricatures can be defined by their artistic form; yet, I will analyse them as political utterances and therefore will not focus specifically on their artistic features. This does not mean that I will completely overlook their artistic expressions or fail to recognise that the caricatures have a specific artistic style, but my focus will be on the understanding of their political meaning and in what can be identified or defined as their own historical context. The polemical context of the caricatures, and how to retrieve this context, is important for the understanding of the journals’ intentions and political stance. As I have previously explained, I will interpret the caricatures as political interventions. Yet, it is important to discuss briefly the caricature as a genre. I will attempt to clarify how the caricature differs from other genres of visual arts, since caricaturists were often, especially in the 19th century, also classically trained artists.182

2.2 A NEW GENRE

The art of caricature was, at the beginning of the 19th century in France, starting to be commercialised through the expansion of the printing press, and especially through the satirical press. As Erre points out, the satirical journals, including the ones that did not contain caricatures, helped to develop the genre of the satirical press, and by extension, the caricature as a genre.183 The establishment of the caricature as a medium evolved in relation to the

181 The definition of the caricature in Grand Larousse Encyclopédique is as follows: “Représentation grotesque, en dessin, en peinture, etc., obtenue par l'exagération et la déformation des traits caractéristiques du visage ou des proportions du corps, dans une intention satirique.” https://www.larousse.fr/encyclopedie/peinture/caricature/151454 182 Such as Charlet, Pigal, Bellangé and Daumier, to name a few. 183 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 174. 52 classical visual arts and the printing press. The caricaturists from this period were therefore, in a way, establishing the genre of caricatures, although the caricaturists of the 19th century played on codes and the genre of caricatures from previous periods. What defines the genre of the caricature and how does it relate to other art forms? According to art historian Michel Melot, the caricaturist’s art form differs from fine art through the expectations of the genre. The fine artist, he states, “must respect the space, the volumes and the proportions of his subject”, while the caricaturist “submits his subject to his own space” because he has gained power over the forms that he has learned to master.184 The medium did not need to be aesthetically pleasing, unlike classical art at the beginning of the 19th century; the caricaturist could therefore break with conventional artistic norms. The caricaturist, as Melot notes, was freer in a sense, and did not necessarily follow the same strict rules as the classical artist did. The genre in itself frees the artist from fixed rules and tradition. Erre argues that La Silhouette played a part in describing the relationship between art and the caricature: “La Silhouette construit peu à peu une sorte de manifeste où elle définit le statut de l’art, celui de l’artiste et pour finir celui de la caricature et du caricaturiste.”185 Furthermore, “la caricature serait une forme d’expression d’avant-garde, capable de se faire entendre et de peser sur le monde”,186 Erre states about La Silhouette. I will argue that, despite the “freedom” that the art of caricature gave to the caricaturist, the image’s codes and references in 19th-century France became increasingly well established. As the caricature came to be part of the mass media and popular culture, it became more standardised. Popular caricaturists, such as Daumier, Traviès and Grandville, developed certain codes and references, which they had learned from previous caricaturists, and which other caricaturists followed in the initial phase when caricatures were becoming a part of the printing press expansion. The caricature as an individual genre thus created its own codes and common features, which were different from those used in the classical visual arts. As Fabrice Erre notes, “une partie essentielle du travail de la satire consiste à fabriquer ses propres outils”, which he says is even more important with the periodical press since “elle doit construire une

184 Michel Melot, Rire avec les monstres. Caricature, étrangeté et fantasmagorie (Nancy: Édition Amis du MBA de Nancy. Association Emmanuel Héré, 2010), 112. 185 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, Part I, 164. 186 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, Part I, 168.

53 connivence avec ses lecteurs sur la durée, en leur proposant des points de repère expressifs et clairs”.187

2.3 CARICATURES AND TEXT

The satirical journals like La Charge and La Caricature contain both satirical and non-satirical text and visual caricatures that also contain textual elements. The text thus plays an important part in the totality of the journal, as well as aiding the understanding of the caricatures. Reading the whole of each journal, including the small notes on the last page, is therefore crucial to understanding the caricature. Satirical journals from this period often repeated the same jokes and commentaries several times throughout an issue, which would probably have helped the reader to understand something they might have overlooked in the caricature. When it comes to caricatures, it is essential for the historian to be familiar with all the images and text produced in a newspaper in order to understand the caricatures’ intended messages. The journal itself is the first important context for interpreting individual caricatures. The title of a satirical newspaper can, according to Erre, tell us something about its intentions: “Le titre d’un journal reflète sa personnalité.”188 La Charge’s title is, as I have discussed earlier, a direct reference to La Caricature. I will also argue that La Charge’s title indicates how it wants to be perceived, not only in relation to La Caricature, but as a force in its own right; as a “charge”, in all the meanings of the word, against the oppositional press. Erre further argues that the journal’s subtitle is just as important to understanding the programme of the journal, because it can tell us more about the content: “alors que le titre est a priori immuable, le sous-titre peut s’adapter aux circonstances.”189 I will discuss La Charge’s subtitle, “ou les Folies contemporaines, recueil de dessins satiriques et philosophiques pour servir à l'histoire de nos extravagances”, more in depth in the last chapter of the thesis, but it is interesting to note that it uses the word “folies”, which resembles the Legitimist newspaper

187 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 130. 188 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, 5. 189 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, 7.

54

Brid’Oison’s subtitle190: “Journal des folies du siècle”. This could have been intentional on the part of La Charge, since it also attacked the Legitimist satirical press. La Charge’s “motto”, published under the titles on the right side was a quote from Beaumarchais’ Mémoires: “C’est mon opinion; voilà pourquoi je la publie.” This also says something about how La Charge wanted to be perceived, that is was “its opinion”, which differed from the others. In caricatures, even though much of the content is non-verbal, text is often included in the form of titles, descriptions or dialogues. When analysing a caricature historically, we must focus on both the image itself – who or what it portrays and refers to – but also on the text in the caricature. Sometimes the punchline lies in the text, which makes it clearer what the caricaturist intended by the illustration. The text may provide some explanation or clarification. It was for example common to write what an object was on the object itself, so that the reader would immediately understand what was being depicted. La Charge seemed to fear that its readers would misinterpret its message, since the articles connected to the caricatures explicitly described the lithograph and what the caricaturist wanted to express. However, the text could also enhance the irony and the absurdity, as Suzy Lévy observes:

le non-sens, le calembour, l’absurde, le proverb et le language particulier de l’ironie en images avec ses doubles significations ; forme d’ironie qui fait appel à la propre créativité du lecteur, à sa capacité d’établir des associations, et à son pouvoir d’en prolonger les combinaisons à travers un language des signes qui rend les mots parfaitement superflus.191

Thus the caricature must be examined both as an image and as text; they cannot be understood separately. W.J.T. Mitchell states in Picture Theory (1994) that we cannot ask what a picture is “without extended reflection on texts, particularly on the ways in which texts act like pictures or incorporate pictorial practices and vice versa.”192 Although I will not analyse in much depth the relationship between text and image in caricatures, I will argue that it is important to understand that there is a more or less complicated relationship between the image and the text nevertheless, since they can point in different directions and add various layers to the meaning.

190 Brid’Oison changed its subtitle from “Journal des gobemouches” to “Journal des folies du siècle” on 22 February 1832. 191 Suzy Lévy, “Les mots dans la caricature”, Communication et languages, Volume 102, (1994): 59. https://doi.org/10.3406/colan.1994.2546 (accessed 15 October 2015) 192 W.J.T. Mitchell, Picture Theory: Essays on Verbal and Visual Representation, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994), 4.

55

Both the satirical written language and the visual one play a part in La Charge, as they did in Philipon’s newspapers. According to Le Men, La Caricature and Le Charivari represent what she calls “visual intersemiotic languages”, that used the “rencontre du texte (normalement digital) et de l’image (normalement analogique) de manière à les oppose, à les comparer ou à les réunir synthétiquement.” 193 This is noticeable in the way the satirical journals incorporated illustrations, emblems, blazons, rebuses, calligraphy and calligrammes, which employ both images and the texts. Le Men discusses the famous “typographic pear”, which was published on the front page of Le Charivari in 1834 and featured text in the form of the pear caricature, presenting it as a well-known example of the imaginative use of text to counteract censorship in the satirical press. The visual typographical form signalled a different meaning to the one that was actually written in the text. Text can thus have an important role in a caricature image and can not be separated from the image itself. The text is a part of the image and becomes linked to the visual language. La Charge often uses abbreviations of names when addressing a person, which can make it challenging to understand who the person is supposed to be, for example “M. de Cab…” for Étienne Cabet (1788–1856). The names are also regularly transformed, for example with François-René de Chateaubriand (1768–1848), who is often referred to in La Charge as Chateauterne, a play on the words “brillant” (briand) and “terne”, meaning bleak. The modification of a name is usually written in cursive, as I have also done with Chateauterne. This makes it easier to understand which part of the name has been altered. The images often play on these modifications of a person’s name, which can be seen in the way the person and their physical features are depicted and modified.

2.4 CARNIVALESQUE

A caricature’s asset is that it can deconstruct, mainly by visual means, the reality, the common social and natural environment that we take for granted. Fabrice Erre states that the caricature

193 Ségolène Le Men, “Calligraphie, calligrame, caricature”, Langages, Lettres et Icônes, Volume 19, (75/1984): 83-102. https://doi.org/10.3406/lgge.1984.1184 (accessed June 19, 2017)

56 constructs a parallel, satirical reality.194 Bertrand Tillier has pointed out that caricatures can be described as having a carnivalesque element, since they turn the world, as we know it, upside down. How does the caricature achieve this? The deconstruction can be achieved by for instance drawing a man as an animal, such as a monkey, but making the monkey behave like a human being. Turning people into animals or non-living things was (and still is) a popular tool for caricaturists to create a contrast to human beings. Caricatures can consequently alienate humans from their own bodies, making their bodies seem foreign.195 Antoine de Baecque says that the French caricature during the Revolution used the grotesque as a style to depict the political enemy and as a procedure to desacralise individuals, for example the king.196 He calls this procedure “grotesque désacralisateur.”197 Furthermore, Baecque points out that the best way to define the “grotesque caricatural” is through the practise of “donner un corps aux ennemis politiques.”198 This way, society’s hierarchy could be turned upside down, for instance by making the king behave like a “normal man”, wearing outfits he would not usually wear and doing things he would not normally do as a king. The deconstruction may also be a helpful way for the caricaturist to call attention to whatever he wants to comment on, by pointing out some aspects of society that suddenly appear absurd. On the other hand, it can also reinforce the existing order, by criticising the imagination of another reality. However, caricaturists do not use animals/living things and non-living things merely to alienate the human body, but also to represent a person’s moral traits. A caricature often comments on a person’s moral qualities through his or her characteristic features by creating a link between them, a practice which can be dated back to at least the Middle Ages.199 During the Revolution, it became important to create certain “types”, for example the category of the “aristocrat”.200 This procedure became even more popular during the 19th century with the

194 Fabrice Erre, “La caricature dans la mécanique de la presse satirique”, caricaturesetcaricature.com. http://www.caricaturesetcaricature.com/article-35763942.html (accessed 14 August 2019). 195 Tillier, À la charge !, 177. 196 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 45. 197 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 41. 198 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 41. 199 Florent Gabaude, “Les animaux ailés dans les feuilles volantes”, Ridiculosa. Les animaux pour le dire. (10/2003): 103. 200 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 40.

57 caricature’s expansion. With the growth of the printing press and the caricature, the production of images of humans represented as animals also expanded. The early 1800s was also the peak period of the “science” of physiognomy, which is often linked to the golden age of caricatures. The Swiss writer and philosopher Johann Kaspar Lavater (1741–1801), who can be described as physiognomy’s most prominent figure, became especially popular in France at the beginning of the 19th century.201 With the translation of his works on physiognomy, such as Physiognomische Fragmente zur Beförderung der Menschenkenntnis und Menschenliebe (1775–1778), many French scientists, but also caricaturists, began to show an interest in physiognomy science.202 Physiognomy is the study of the systematic correspondence of psychological characteristics to facial features or body structure. Physiognomy reinforced the notion that a person’s moral quality or properties could mirror that person’s physical traits with a scientific explanation, not a religious one. Caricaturists were inspired by this “pseudoscience”, since it implied that you could categorise people into groups, making them recognisable by their appearance, both in their physiology but also in the way they were dressed and the way they acted. When a caricaturist insisted on certain physical features, the point was to suggest that a certain face or physical feature would correspond to a certain individual rather than another.

In this thesis, I will focus on the political function of caricatures. Caricatures can also be simply comical drawings meant for entertainment without any political intentions, but I will draw attention to the political aspect of La Charge’s caricatures as political caricatures. As I

201 The first French translation of Physiognomische Fragmente seems to have been published in the 1780s in Holland (Michael Shortland, “The Power of a Thousand Eyes: Johann Caspar Lavater's Science of Physiognomical Perception”, Criticism, 28/4 (1986), 379–408). However, the translation was apparently not very good and was both expensive and difficult to obtain, according to the later French translation of Physiognomische Fragmente from 1806, L'art de connaître les hommes par la physionomie by Jacques-Louis Mareau. According to Mareau, even though Lavater’s work was well-known, it was not widespread in France, which he claims was a result of the poor translation of the work and its unavailability: “Les défauts et la forme incommode de la traduction française, en 4 volumes petit in-folio, imprimée en Hollande, ont pu contribuer à mettre cet ouvrage hors de la portée du plus grand nombre des lecteurs. Le prix de cette traduction est d’ailleurs excessif, et la concentre nécessairement dans les grandes bibliothèques, ou dans les cabinets des curieux et des riches amateurs. Ajoutons que l’auteur de cette traduction n’est pas français ; qu’il manque en général d’enthousiasme, de chaleur, de mouvement, même de correction.” 202 Le Charivari referred to Lavater in an article in 1835, stating that: “Lavater was able to calculate instinctively, when he showed how few transitions are necessary to transform the profile of a frog into the magnificent profile of the Apollo Belvedere, which is, they say, the ideal of beauty.”

58 will explain later on in the thesis, La Charge was arguably a politically motivated journal, whose intention was to oppose the opposition satirical press’s attacks on the government. Hence, even though not all caricatures produced in the 1830s are considered as political, my analysis will be on caricatures as political rhetorical utterances.

2.5 CONTENT: SYMBOLS

The content, or the message, of a political caricature, is conveyed by symbolic language. Historian Annie Duprat explains that the “research, the analysis and the decryption of images of an event situates itself in the field of ‘representation’.”203 The caricaturist’s job is to represent specific individuals, ideas, groups, and so on. When analysing and decrypting images, it is therefore important to identify what the images represent. As I have touched upon earlier, when creating a caricature, including political caricature, the caricaturist must resort to well-known references and associations so that the reader can decipher its (political) meaning.

Symbols, signs and emblems are therefore useful tools for a satiric artist. Perhaps one of the most influential works on French emblems and symbols is the three- volume collection called Les Lieux de mémoire, edited by Pierre Nora and published between 1984 and 1992. Here, Nora explores the concept of “collective memory”, which he and other scholars argue can be found in cultural objects such as monuments, events, people, symbols, colours and emblems.204 I will argue that the symbols referring to the 1789 Revolution in La Charge and La Caricature can be understood as what Nora calls a “collective memory”. Antoine de Baecque has also influenced the research on the use of symbols in caricatures, through his work La caricature révolutionnaire, in which he argues that one of the caricaturist’s techniques was to create certain “types”, for example the “aristocrat” during the Revolution. He stresses the importance of detecting the classifying (or declassifying)

203 Duprat, “Le Roi, la chasse et le parapluie ou comment l’historien fait parler les images”, Genèses, 27 (1997): 110, edited by Florence Weber, https://doi.org/10.3406/genes.1997.1451 (accessed May 14, 2018). 204 Pierre Nora, “L’ère de la commémoration”, Les lieux de mémoire. III Les France. 3. De l’archive à l’emblème, Edited by Pierre Nora (Paris: Gallimard, 1992), 977.

59 procedure, the “typification” of symbols (which symbols were used for which type of person) and the mechanics of identification of political groups in caricatures from the Revolution.205 French historian Bernard Richard has traced the origins of the French Republic’s emblems in Les emblèmes de la République (2012), where he describes how the emblems came to be, how they were used and what their status is today (i.e. in 2012). In his introduction, Richard states, as do Baecque and others, that many of the republican emblems appeared during the Revolution, some as a legacy of antique iconography and others not, and were imposed more widely in France during the first decade of the Third Republic.206 The July Monarchy period was therefore significant in the establishment of these symbols and their association with republican ideas in the 19th century. The emblems that Richard presents in his work were, as he points out, “unstable” emblems, since they were depoliticised, contested or dismissed by the various political parties and movements.207 An emblem often varies in accordance with its historical context. How the emblem has been used in the past does not necessarily correspond to how it is used in the future. Republican ideas are and were not limited to the notion of a state without a monarch; the Republic was first and foremost a set of values such as virtue and freedom.208 This aspect of republican ideas can be seen in its symbolism, where symbols for concepts such as freedom, for instance, became especially important. Richard further explores the difference between the concepts of “symbols” and “emblems”, since, as he points out, they contain similarities and are often confused. To support this distinction, Richard relies on the definition of political emblems (first and foremost, “state emblems”) provided by historian Maurice Agulhon209, an authority on research into French emblems. Firstly, an emblem ought to, according to Agulhon, identify the political power it is representing, by distinguishing it from foreign and internal oppositional emblems, so that the

205 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 40. 206 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, preface by Alain Corbin, (Paris: CNRS Éditions, 2012), 11. 207 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 12. 208 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 13. 209 Maurice Agulhon has written several works on the French revolution and on symbols, such as Marianne au combat. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaines de 1789 à 1880 (1979), Marianne au pouvoir. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaines de 1880 à 1914 (1989) and Les Métamorphoses de Marianne. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaines de 1914 à nos jours (2001).

60 emblem can convey an immediate understanding of the power that reigns. Secondly, it should depict the power’s principles and values in an understandable manner. Thirdly, an emblem must inspire sympathy or aesthetic pleasure and engage the population to support it and what it stands for. Lastly, even to an illiterate person, the emblem should nevertheless be easily understandable and clear.210 An emblem is a sort of symbol; but more specifically, an emblem usually has more political and “official” aspects than a symbol. An emblem’s representational form is usually well known to the public: “Lorsqu’un symbole est largement fixé et reconnu, il divient un emblème.”211 Historian Michel Pastoureau’s212 explanation of the distinction between an emblem and a symbol is as follows: “l’emblème est un signe qui dit l’identité d’une personne ou d’un groupe de personne ; le symbole est un signe qui exprime une idée, un concept, une notion.”213 As he points out, however, the distinction between the two is not clear since emblems can also be symbols and symbols can become emblems: the tricoloured flag, for example, was initially a symbol, and became an emblem when it became defined and official through the French Constitution. The term “allegory” also complicates the matter. For instance, the Marianne figure, which is the female representation of the French Republic, is often called an allegory. The Phrygian cap that she wears is a symbol, and if the representation of Marianne is in a form of a bust or on an official document, she becomes an emblem.214 The distinction between the three terms is, however, not always clear. An allegory is an idea that is presented through a metaphor, often in the form of images and pictures. In rhetoric, the allegory is usually an idea that is personified. Jean-Michel Renault defines an allegory as “a figure of thoughts that consist in giving a human form to abstractions

210 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 20. 211 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 20. 212 Michel Pastoureau has written extensively on symbols, emblems and heraldry: Traité d'héraldique (1979), L'hermine et le sinople, études d'héraldique médiévale (1982), Figures de l'héraldique (1996), Les emblèmes de la France (1998), Bleu: Histoire d'une couleur (2000), Une histoire symbolique du Moyen Âge occidental (2004), L'ours. Histoire d'un roi déchu (2007), Vert. Histoire d'une couleur (2013), Rouge: Histoire d'une couleur (2016) and Les couleurs de la France (2016), to name a few. 213 Pastoureau, Michel, Les emblèmes de la France (Paris: Bonneton, 1998), 8. 214 Maurice Agulhon, Marianne au combat. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaine de 1789 à 1880 (Paris: Flammarion, 1979), 8.

61 and values such as youth, death, justice, truth, honour, science, agriculture, commerce, arts etc., and naturally liberty”.215 Maurice Agulhon acknowledges that the distinction between symbols, emblems and allegories is confusing: “Nous ne procéderons pour notre part à aucune réflexion sémantique ou philosophique originale sur ces trois termes, et peut-être nous arrivera- t-il, au fil de la plume, de les employer l’un pour l’autre.”216 Since the female allegory did not represent the French Republic in the 1830s, I will not label her as an emblem, which is the reason why I believe the distinctions between allegories, symbols and emblems, although not clear-cut, can be helpful. The female representations of France, the Republic and certain values (such as “liberty”), as portrayed in caricatures from the 1830s, are depicted through dynamic representations. The allegory is thus not portrayed as a still and lifeless figure, in contrast to symbols such as the fleur-de-lis. Furthermore, she is a human metaphor, not an animal, which arguably places her in a different category to, for example, the coq gaulois, which I will come back to in the next chapter (Chapter 3). These are the reasons why I want to distinguish between still symbols and what I will call allegories. The caricaturists themselves also used the word “allegory” for the female representations, which strengthens my argument that the word “allegory” is the right term to use in this context. Although there are different definitions of what emblems, symbols and allegories are, I will refer to Agulhon, Pastoureau, Richard and Renault’s definitions, since they have dedicated much of their research to French symbolism, especially French republican imagery, which is relevant to my exploration of 19th-century symbolism and emblems in caricatures.

2.6 CONCEPTUAL HISTORY AND SYMBOLS

What can the use of symbols tell us, other than they were and still are a useful tool for the caricaturist? I will argue that symbols have some of the same functions as concepts, and that symbols can in fact visually represent certain concepts. Caricaturists must sometimes present complex concepts, political ideas and/or people in a concise and easily recognisable manner for the reader. The caricaturist must pick an aspect of an idea, a concept or a person, and use it

215 Jean-Michel Renault, Les fées de la République, (Paris: Les Créations du Pélican, 2003), 21. 216 Agulhon, Marianne au combat, 8. 62 as a way to represent the idea, concept or person, which the reader thus can understand immediately. Caricaturists have to represent something that already exists, but can introduce something new by the way they represent it and by using symbols. Symbols, as I have already mentioned, are therefore highly valuable for a caricaturist. Symbols that are familiar to the reader can make the caricaturist’s task easier. However, symbols do not always have one meaning or one origin. Sometimes a symbol can change its meaning over time. Most symbols symbolise different things at the same time. Many symbols are also contested, meaning that some people may claim authority over a symbol, in contradiction with other groups’ use of the same symbol. I will therefore argue that conceptual history as presented by Reinhart Koselleck can be a helpful tool in tracing a symbol’s history and meaning, in the same way that we might explore a concept. Symbols have some of the same functionality as concepts: they need to be interpreted because they can often mean different things and often change over time. Consequently, when analysing La Charge’s use of the symbol of the Phrygian cap, for example, I must firstly research how the symbol was used in the 1830s, which political group(s) used the symbol, and whether it had changed meaning over time. My analysis of the use of symbols in the caricatures of La Charge is inspired by the theory of conceptual history. In an article about the representation of the concept of death in Daumier’s caricatures, Koselleck claims that caricaturists are sometimes forced to create or use allegories or symbols to represent concepts, such as the concept of death.217 Before I discuss the relevance of conceptual history for my research, I will discuss how Koselleck understands concepts and how to study them. According to Koselleck, a concept “must remain ambiguous in order to be a concept”218 because it can be interpreted in various ways and because it can change over time. Furthermore, he states that concepts are more than just words, although they are connected to specific words: “each concept is associated with a word, but not every word is a social and political concept.”219 A concept can only be interpreted while a word can be described and defined. Besides, “a word

217 Reinhart Koselleck, The Practice of Conceptual History. Timing History, Spacing Concepts, translated by Todd Samuel Presner and others (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2002), 265. 218 Reinhart Koselleck, Futures Past. On the Semantics of Historical Time, translated by Keith Tribe, (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004), 85. 219 Koselleck, Futures Past, 84.

63 becomes a concept only when the entirety of meaning and experience within a sociopolitical context within which and for which a word is used can be condensed into one word”.220 Koselleck also argues that “without a common concept there is no society, and above all, no political field of action”.221 Concepts are thus both indicators of and factors in historical changes: “a concept is not simply indicative of the relations which it covers; it is also a factor within them. Each concept establishes a particular horizon for potential experience and conceivable theory, and in this way sets a limit.”222 Concepts as indicators of change can give us an understanding of how the language can express these changes. As factors, the concepts can in themselves also contribute to the changes. Koselleck argues that, after time, political concepts cease to merely indicate social phenomena but also start influencing the society in itself. The structural “power” in doing so means that concepts are not only concerned with the past experiences, but also with the future, and expectations of societal development. The use of symbols in political caricature is often not only synchronous, but also anchored in a diachronic historical process, as they use the experience of the past into the present; for example, when symbols referring to the Revolution were used during the 1830s. Thus, as cultural historian Carl E. Schorske defines the historian’s task:

Confined to no single domain of human experience, historians move into any terrain in search of the materials that they will organize into a temporal pattern with the help of the concepts borrowed from those fields of learning that generate them. They reconstruct the past by relativizing the particulars to the concepts and the concepts to the particulars, doing full justice to neither, yet binding and bonding them into an integrated life as an account under the ordinance of time. In the tapestry the historian waves, diachronic dynamic are the warp, synchronic relations are the woof.223

Schorske’s definition of the historian’s task emphasises the importance of reconstructing an event by looking at it from a diachronic as well as a synchronic perspective. This is something that I will explore more in depth in the third and fourth chapters, where I will present how La Charge, and the oppositional satire, used symbols that referred both to their own time and to

220 Koselleck, Futures Past, 85. 221 Koselleck, Futures Past, 76. 222 Koselleck, Futures Past, 86. 223 Carl E. Schorske, Thinking with History. Explorations in the Passage to Modernism, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), 221

64 the past. The theory of concepts, as presented by Koselleck, is thus relevant for the understanding of the use of symbols and references in this context. As Koselleck argues, “Concepts not only teach us the uniqueness of past meanings, but also contain structural possibilities, treating the concatenations of differences invisible in the historical flow of events.”224 I will thus argue that the caricature’s use of symbols somehow also affects expectations, and hence, future societal development. Thus, symbols as well as concepts are a crucial part of society and politics. “The struggle over the ‘correct’ concepts becomes socially and politically explosive.”225 Like concepts, the use of symbols can reflect the different participants in a debate and their expectations, as well as the political conflicts and the struggle of definition. This understanding of what a concept is and how its meaning can change, I will argue in Chapter 4, can clarify how the concept of “revolution” changed according to the time and the various political groups who were active during the July Monarchy, and how this is visible through the conflicting use of revolutionary symbols in La Charge and La Caricature. Koselleck argues that in a time of crisis there occurs a “semantic struggle for the definition of political or social position.”226 This is true of the period of the July Monarchy, and not only in the struggle for definition of the concept of revolution, but in relation to all the different groups that existed during this period which were difficult to define. Thus, symbols functioned as a tool for the caricaturist to express and illustrate certain convictions. The symbols were a part of the political rhetorical language of the caricaturist; the symbols were what the caricaturists were battling with, but also what they were battling over. Next, I will discuss what political caricatures are and how they differ from other types of caricatures.

224 Koselleck, Futures Past, 91. 225 Koselleck, Futures Past, 79. 226 Koselleck, Futures Past, 80.

65

2.7 POLITICAL CARICATURES

Antoine de Baecque stresses the fact that the caricature during the Ancien Régime played less on political motives than it did at the end of the 18th century.227 During the Revolution, politics became a central motive for the caricature, and during the 1830s the journals containing caricatures became progressively more affiliated to certain political sides or parties. “Caricature then became politically caricatural, acutely conscious of its novel role in journalism,” Howard Vincent states.228 La Caricature was, for example, explicitly on the side of the opposition, and later on displayed more affinity with the republican movement.229 The images in La Caricature were therefore for the most part political commentaries that argued from a certain political point of view, and especially against certain political views. The caricaturists’ goal was to persuade the readers to their and the journal’s general beliefs. La Charge functioned in the same way, as I will demonstrate in later chapters. Even though the journal’s contributors may have had slightly different political opinions internally, they were arguably on the same side and tried to communicate a coherent message. The caricatures published in La Charge were therefore attempting to persuade the readers to adhere to the journal’s cause, to the staff’s beliefs. I will not elaborate too much on this subject here, since I will discuss it more later. Robert Justin Goldstein defines political caricatures as “politically oriented drawings with an intended mass circulation; such drawings sometimes, but not always, use exaggeration and usually, but not always, are critical.”230 I agree with this definition to some extent, but will supplement it with what I believe characterises political caricatures. The term “political caricature” requires more explanation and a clearer definition, which I will argue concerns both the caricaturist’s intention and message. First, I will concentrate on caricatures as communication objects. A political caricature, contrary to other types of art forms, must contain a message that the caricaturist wants to communicate to his public. If not, the image would merely be an ornament, a piece of art that

227 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 39. 228 Vincent, Daumier and His World, 16. 229 Erre, “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’‘attentat horrible’ du 19 Novembre 1832”, 2. 230 Goldstein, Censorship of Political Caricature in Nineteenth-Century France, x. 66 does not require analysis. A caricature’s message needs to be understood by its intended receivers; otherwise, it would not be a caricature. This is especially important for caricatures published in newspapers because it implies that they have an intended public. The caricatures are thus meant to be seen and understood by those who buy or pick up the newspaper. The message(s) can be ambiguous, since a caricature can mean several things at once. Yet, the receiver has to be able to recognise at least some things. The message the caricaturist wants to communicate can be anything from a comment to a political statement, or simply an observation. The message is then translated into an image in a comprehensible way so that its receivers will understand its content. In a political journal, the caricatures are often more politically driven, and therefore more persuasive. Numerous caricature researchers have focused on how the caricature manipulates its public and how it can be an instrument of propaganda.231 Thus, one way to define political caricatures is by the powerful and immediate nature of the image, and furthermore, by its “propaganda effect”. Ségolène Le Men describes the circulation of the pear caricature as close to the “technique of propaganda”.232 The caricaturist’s goal is to persuade the readers: “La caricature mène un combat. Il faut convaincre les lecteurs.”233 Erre emphasises the satirical journal’s intention on influencing the public: “en construisant un discours et en impliquant des pratiques, le journal tend à modifier les comportements et la façon de penser de ceux qui s’y intéressent.”234 The caricaturist often comments on a specific event and/or a particular person – which in political caricatures is usually the state, the king or those in power – and seeks to influence the reader’s opinion of the event or person. When describing caricatures from the Revolution, Baecque says that the deformations that are produced either by text or by images incite people to act.235 In Mots. Caricatures Politiques (1996), the caricature is described as “equally inseparable to what is designated as the sphere of propaganda and political confrontations”.236 The influential aspect of caricatures

231 Marc Bonhomme, “La caricature politique”, Mots. Les langages du politique, 94 (2010), 40. https://www.cairn.info/revue-mots-2010-3-page-39.htm (accessed 19 April 2019). 232 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”. 233 Laurent Baridon and Martial Guédron, L’art et l’histoire de la caricature (Paris: Éditions Citadelles & Mazenod, 2006), 203. 234 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 56. 235 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 39. 236 Delporte, Christian, Vincent Milliot, Érik Neveu. “Présentation”, Mots. Caricatures politiques, 48 (1996), 9. https://www.persee.fr/doc/mots_0243-6450_1996_num_48_1_2096 (accessed 30 June 2017) 67 is perhaps one of the distinctive features that make them political, and this is why I will analyse them as political utterances and interventions, as speech acts in their own right. A similar distinctive feature associated with the caricature is its combative nature. However, the caricature’s power has often been exaggerated and the “propaganda label” has often been used as an argument by governments and figures of power. This quality of caricatures became especially relevant after the 1789 Revolution. Caricatures have, in the French historical context, often been considered as and associated with weapons.237 Fabrice Erre emphasises the aggressiveness of satire, which he cites as a characteristic that distinguishes satire from other forms of laughter: “le rire satirique, marqué depuis l’origine par son caractère agressif, occupe une place particulière: il est considéré comme une arme capable d’infliger le ridicule et, par là, de jouer un rôle social ou politique plus efficace que d’autres formes de rire.”238 Another word for caricature in French is the word “charge”, which explains La Charge’s own name. The word “caricature” originates with the Italian word “caricare”, which translates to “charge”. The verb “charger” also means to charge in French, but can have many different meanings, in French as in English. The etymology of the word “caricature” is connected to exaggeration but also to the act of charging a weapon or attacking. In the Dictionnaire critique de la langue française from 1787, the word “caricature” is described as a term in painting, and the words “charge” and “caricatûre [sic]” are presented as synonyms. In the Dictionnaire de l’Académie francaise from 1835, the word “caricature” is furthermore described as a satirical image in which the artist represents in a grotesque, buffoonish manner the people or events that he or she wants to mock.239

237 Michel Melot defines the caricature as a “political weapon” (“une arme politique”) in “Le laid idéal”, Les cahiers de médiologie. Volume 15 (1/2003), 151. https://www.cairn.info/revue-les-cahiers-de-mediologie-2003- 1-page-149.htm (accessed 16 February 2019). Ségolène Le Men also qualifies the lithographic caricatures as arms: “la lithographie, qui devient une ‘arme redoutable’ dans la presse satirique du début des années 1830” in “La recherche sur la caricature du xixe siècle: état des lieux”. Antoine de Baecque also uses the word “arm” about revolutionary caricatures: “une arme essentielle pour déconstruire la mythologie royale” Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 45. 238 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 3. 239 Le Dictionnaire de l’Académie française, 6th edition, Volume 1 (1835): “Image satirique dans laquelle l’artiste représente d’une manière grotesque, boufonne, les personnes ou les événements qu’il veut tourner en dérision.”

68

The caricature was perceived as a dangerous medium because it could be seen and understood by that part of the population that was illiterate, which was over half of the population of France in 1832.240 When the French government discussed the censoring laws of 1835, one of the claims was that the image was more dangerous than words because: “[…] when opinions are converted into actions by the circulation of drawings, it is a question of speaking to the eyes. That is something more than the expression of an opinion; it is an incitement to action […]”241 Thus, the caricature is fundamentally connected with strong political rhetoric, sometimes described as being “violent”, especially during this period.

2.8 FUNCTION: SPEECH ACT THEORY, CARICATURE AND ITS

CONTEXTS

The caricaturist meant something and also did something when drawing a specific image in a political situation and using political rhetoric. The meaning and function of the caricature in what can be defined as its political context is what I wish to uncover, and a way to understand it is by interpreting caricatures through the speech act theory in the form elaborated by intellectual historian Quentin Skinner. The speech act theory can be helpful in understanding the meaning of a caricature and uncovering the caricaturist’s intentions, and helps us understand how it intervened in the political debate at the time.

To understand a serious utterance, we need to grasp not merely the meaning of what is said, but at the same time the intended force with which the utterance is issued. We need, that is, to grasp not merely what people are saying but also what they are doing in saying it.242

The citation comes from Skinner’s Visions of Politics (2002), which include several essays on the theoretical and methodological difficulties historians experience when working with and interpreting texts. Skinner is concerned with understanding texts and utterances as speech acts,

240 Charle, Le siècle de la presse (1830–1939), 24. 241 Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, 73. 242 Quentin Skinner, Visions of Politics. Volume 1: Regarding Method, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 82. 69 which he builds on and extends J. L. Austin’s theory of the performativity of language. As the citation above illustrates, Skinner emphasises that in order to understand an utterance, we need to look at the intended force – what the writer or speaker was doing in issuing the utterance – and be aware that “all serious utterances are characteristically intended as acts of communication.”243 Thus, what a person was doing in saying something has to be examined as an act of communication in a specific polemical situation. Skinner refers primarily to written texts that have a certain authority, but if we agree with the assertion that political caricatures can communicate serious ideas and meaning, then it should not be problematic to consider them as speech acts, according to Skinner’s definition. That is, in the case of caricatures, we have to not only understand what the caricatures were saying and meaning, but also what they were doing. The caricaturist’s intention, the “intended force”, matters for the understanding and analysis of the caricature. Skinner’s definition of “intention” is not to retrieve the author’s thought process, which is impossible to do, but rather the author’s “project” or intervention in a certain field. However, to understand a caricature’s message, especially with caricatures from a different time, contextualisation is crucial. Erre comments on contextualisation in relation to the analysis of caricatures:

Il ne suffit pas de décrire ce que nous montrent les caricatures, qui est nécessairement outré et bizarre, mais de saisir la logique qui amène le lecteur à rire du dessin au lieu de le trouver simplement outré et bizarre. Un processus qui l’amène ensuite à comprendre les caricatures suivantes, et à suivre, peut-être à accepter, la logique argumentative qu’elles développent. Or, ce projet semble irréalisable à grande échelle (on peut toujours reconstituer le parcours d’un dessin précis, mais c’est se condamner au particulier) si les caricatures ne sont pas restituées dans leur contexte.244

Thus, Erre emphasises the necessity of contextualisation of caricatures, otherwise a caricature might just seem “eccentric and weird”. Here, I will also make use of Skinner’s theory on contextualisation, of speech acts “intervening in a context.”245 According to Skinner, we have to pay close attention to the context in which an utterance was uttered in order to, hopefully,

243 Skinner, Visions of Politics. Volume 1: Regarding Method, 115. 244 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 7. 245 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 116.

70 understand it historically,246 since “the aim is to return the specific texts we study to the precise cultural context in which they were originally formed”.247 I believe that this also applies to caricature and that it is the only way to understand their political aspect – to understand the political statements or commentaries that can be retrieved from the images. The context, and thus contextualisation, is especially important when it comes to caricatures, which I will now elaborate. I want to clarify what I mean when I state that the political part of a caricature can be perceived by understanding its context. Since, as I have already established, a caricature is often a commentary on a specific event from a specific time, it is important and necessary to contextualise the drawing: when it was made, what happened that particular day, what the drawing is commenting on, who or what are being portrayed. I have to ask myself these questions when I analyse a caricature, since these are important factors when trying to understand a caricature’s intention and possible intended effect in a specific context. Using other newspapers from that time is useful for retrieving this context. Annie Duprat problematises the usage of images in historical research. She stresses the importance of familiarising oneself with the images in order to learn their visual language. Critique of power, for example, will often only be visible through understanding the political context, meaning the political landscape and rhetorical language of the caricature. When retrieving the context of an image, it becomes clearer what the caricature’s commentary was and what the caricaturist could have intended. I will differentiate between the relevant contexts that we will need to establish in order to understand what a caricature was doing. I will argue that there is what I will call an internal, or immediate, context and an external context. The immediate context is the journal in itself: all the issues that form La Charge as a publication. The immediate context is important for understanding the journal’s language – its codes, symbols and references – everything that creates the internal context. I will divide the external context into synchronous and diachronous. The synchronous context consists of the political debates and events of the time, but also the other newspapers and what they were publishing. The diachronous context consists

246 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 117. 247 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 125. 71 of what happened in the past, for example references to events, people and symbols from the Revolution of 1789. Erre also uses the term “première sphère” to describe the dialogue between the different satirical journals: “le dialogue entre organes d’un champ journalistique est permanent, souvent intense, et leurs rapports réciproques entraînent des comportements spécifiques dont certains sont engendrés par les journaux satiriques.”248 A specific event or person can be caricatured in radically different manners, depending on who the caricaturist is and on his or her political opinions. How a caricature depicts an event, or a person, can therefore say a lot about the artist or the journal in which the caricature has been published. On the other hand, a caricature may be interpreted differently, depending on one’s familiarity with the immediate as well as the external context. I will use an example from La Charge to illustrate my point. The caricature “Le Poiricide”, which I introduced in the first chapter, depicts Louis-Philippe looking at the Colonne de Juillet in Paris. Behind his back, one can see a man attempting to assassinate him. If the reader is not acquainted with La Charge’s political ideas, he or she might think that the caricature could originate from an oppositional journal such as La Caricature, especially since La Charge is, in this context, conveying such a different point of view to the opposition. However, if the reader has followed La Charge since the beginning and become familiar with what I will call the internal and external contexts, by both reading articles where the journal is critical of the opposition and being acquainted with the political situation at that time, he or she will understand that the caricature was criticising the opposition. I will argue that La Charge was an intervention in a specific context. Since my work consists of analysing caricatures as historical communication objects, I inevitably try to understand and decipher products from another period, and it follows that there is a chance that I will not understand much of the product. Skinner also raises this problematic, and further problematises it by raising another issue related to working to understand the past, which is that we as historians have expectations and prejudgements. Our anticipations can influence our analysis and understanding of a historical text. As Skinner states, it “will never be possible simply to study what any writer has said (especially in an alien

248 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 56.

72 culture), without bringing to bear our own expectations and pre-judgements about what they must be saying”.249 The references are usually lost over time and retrieving them can be particularly difficult. “The caricature is an ephemeral art form”, according to Annie Duprat. She argues that caricaturists often used an event, a speech or an instant which could be somewhat insignificant, and turned it into something more, with a significance that became part of a bigger political commentary.250 The caricaturists could actualise and even form the debates. That way, the caricaturist could create something new out of an insignificant event, which contrasted with the almost forgotten event that was the starting point. The more insignificant the event was, the more difficult it is to retrieve it now. Caricatures rely much more on the unsaid than most texts do. As a historian, I have to analyse caricatures thoroughly and meticulously. I have to look at every detail and analyse each part. As time goes by, and by retrieving the caricature’s context, a caricature will thus lose its immediacy. It is difficult to be certain about the meaning of a text, and it is the same with caricatures. As Skinner points out, it is even more problematic when the utterance is satirical or ironic.251 I examine the caricatures discussed in this thesis as political utterances, as political commentaries. The speech act theory is therefore beneficial to understanding the political meanings and the intended force behind the caricatures that I examine. Arguably, it is impossible to retrieve a caricaturist’s intention completely, but a historian should nevertheless do his or her best to understand what the artist could have meant. As Skinner states, “to know what a writer meant by a particular work is to know what his or her primary intentions were in writing it”.252 I believe this applies with caricatures: to know what a caricaturist could have meant or intended by a particular caricature is crucial to understanding what the caricaturist did when creating the caricature: “we need, that is, to grasp not merely what people are saying but also what they are doing in saying it.”253 Analysing what sort of speech act a caricature was performing is essential to the understanding of the caricature’s intervention in the political debate of the time.

249 Skinner, 58. 250 Annie Duprat, “Iconologie historique de la caricature politique en France (du XVIe au XXe siècle)”, Hermès, La Revue, 29 (2001/1), 23–32. https://www.cairn.info/revue-hermes-la-revue-2001-1-page-23.htm (accessed 6 March 2018). 251 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 111. 252 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 101. 253 Skinner, Visions of Politics, 82. 73

I therefore argue that the caricatures published in La Charge can be considered as speech acts; the caricaturist meant something and did something when drawing a specific image. The various caricatures intervened in a specific political landscape; they were visual reactions and comments on events and debates. I am not arguing that this phenomenon was new or original in La Charge, but that political caricatures in general can be described in this way. The meaning and function of the caricatures is what I wish to uncover, and a way to understand this is to look at the caricature as a speech act that did something or at least wished to do something. In Skinner’s definition of speech acts, the utterances are discursive, but in La Charge, they are both textual and visual. Therefore, as I have discussed, caricaturists used different methods or “tools” to express or perform their speech acts. One of the main tools was the use of symbols. In this context, the symbols have a political function – they intervene in a debate where symbols reflect political ideas and meaning. To show how caricatures fight for the power to define symbols, is also to show how they engage in a struggle to define society and the future, I will argue. In the next chapter, I will therefore examine La Charge’s use of symbols as an intervention in what I will call a symbolic “battle” against La Caricature.

74

3. THE FIELD OF RIDICULE: A BATTLE OF

SYMBOLS

La Charge characterised the practice of caricatures in the first issue of the paper as the “champ du ridicule”.254 The journal’s mission was to place itself in this “field of ridicule” to claim its position.255 The word “champ” can also be used in the context of a battle, as in a “champ de bataille”, a battleground. The combative aspect could potentially have been La Charge’s intention, but that is only speculations, yet it does describe what the caricature’s role was. As stated in the introduction, caricatures have often been compared to weapons, since the caricature often “attacks” the objects it is portraying. Yet, if caricatures can be perceived as weapons, what were they fighting over and with what kind of “tools”? As discussed in Chapter 2, caricaturists were dependent on the use of symbols to communicate their message and to act upon a subject – i.e. perform a speech act, which means to intervene in a polemical situation. The symbols were used to represent politically contested concepts and ideas. What sort of symbols did they resort to, and what were the origins of the symbols that they used? More crucial questions to ask are, what was their function and what did they do? What were the intended effects of the symbols? In this chapter, I will present a selection of symbols that were much used and were important in the beginning of the July Monarchy. I will explore the source of the different symbols used in both La Charge and La Caricature, and attempt to identify their origin and references. In subsequent chapters, I will make use of the symbols that I will present here, since they recur in many caricatures, and more importantly, I will show how they functioned in the political situation in which they were operating. I will start with a presentation of the symbols King Louis-Philippe chose to represent his reign in 1830, which are the focus of the “battle of symbols” that I will go on to discuss.

254 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 255 “Le champ du ridicule s’ouvre donc devant nous”, La Charge, 7 October 1832. 75

Furthermore, this chapter will explore the use of these symbols in the caricatures featured in La Charge and La Caricature – how the symbols were used and for what purpose. Symbols in caricatures usually come up in research on caricatures, since they are such an important part of the caricature’s “language”. As mentioned in Chapter 2, Antoine de Baecque stresses the “attachement aux symbols” in caricatures dating from the Revolution.256 I will argue that it was the same with the 1830s and that the caricatures show that there was what I will call a “battle of symbols”, a battle which consisted of a discord about who the symbols “belonged” to, and to which political party. Finally, I will demonstrate how La Charge made use of the pear caricatures from the opposition, which I discussed in the introduction, and how they appropriated257 a symbol to counter the symbol of the pear. Ségolène Le Men and Fabrice Erre emphasise the use of symbols and especially the history and reception of the symbol of the pear caricature.258 My position will be to focus both on the oppositional and the “anti-oppositional” use of symbols by comparing La Charge and La Caricature.

3.1 CARICATURES AND SYMBOLS

How did the official and non-official symbols from 1830s France influence the satirical press and caricatures specifically? In this chapter, I will argue that the way the satirical press used certain symbols in their caricatures can be related to the July Monarchy’s appropriation of emblems, which partially aimed at embracing the legacy of the French Revolution. The legacy of the French Revolution can be found in Louis-Philippe’s selection of official emblems for his monarchy, which I will explore subsequently. These emblems are present in the caricatures of this period, which I want to investigate further through La Charge and La Caricature, principally by comparing them. I want to demonstrate how by comparing these papers it becomes apparent that they are commenting on the official symbols for the July Monarchy and

256 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 39. 257 I use the word “appropriate” since the symbols that the papers used were usually pre-existing symbols. 258 Ségolène Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire” (2004), Fabrice Erre, Le règne de la Poire (2011). 76 on symbols and emblems in general. How did their use of symbols and emblems differ? How could their use of symbols demonstrate their different political opinions? I want to investigate how some symbols and metaphors from the 1789 Revolution were adopted during the July Monarchy, whether they changed meaning and signification, and ultimately what function the symbol had in the political debates of the time. I will therefore trace the history of the different symbols and their importance from the first revolution to the 1830s, to clarify what the use of symbols can tell us about the political motivations of those using them. Maurice Agulhon notes “l’attention constante que portait aux signes et symboles la polémique politique de ce temps” during the July Monarchy and after.259 La Charge’s editor commented on the use of emblems in 1832 by stating that “the emblems, the representative signs or the allegories have become à la mode. It is a way to talk both to the eyes and the mind.”260 This demonstrates an understanding and awareness about the emblems’ significance and status, and an acknowledgment that symbols have a power that speaks both to the eyes and the mind. He also emphasises the fact that the emblems were, at least seemingly, becoming increasingly popular. Why are symbols and emblems so important? Why was it important to the government and the satirical journals to express their identity, values and politics through symbols? I want to analyse, categorise and define the different symbols and emblems that are portrayed in La Charge and La Caricature as a sort of presentation of the journals’ “languages”. How they used symbols and emblems says something about what they were trying to communicate to the public and what they wanted to achieve. I argue that the symbols of the 1830s, with the caricature becoming an important medium, created a particular kind of language and communication between the different papers. This chapter is essential for exploring the topics that La Charge treated and where the paper positioned itself politically.

259 Agulhon, Marianne au combat, 87. 260 La Charge, 10 November 1833. 77

3.2 LOUIS-PHILIPPE’S EMBLEMS

When proclaimed head of state in August 1830, Louis-Philippe chose the title of “King of the French” (Roi des francais) in exchange for the traditional title “King of France” (Roi de France). In my introduction I briefly discussed the Charter of 1830, which was established in the days following the Revolution, and explained how the charter was, partially, the cause of the printing press’s sudden development in this period. Three days prior to being declared king, on 9 August 1830, Louis-Philippe imposed the coq gaulois as the National Guard’s new crest.261 Which emblems would represent his reign was an important question even before his gain of power: “Après son installation, le nouveau regime a dû régler les questions d’emblèmes et de titre.”262 In the days following 9 August, the traditional monarchic symbol, the fleur-de- lis, was replaced by three other symbols that Louis Philippe had chosen to represent the July Monarchy. The fleur-de-lis was discarded from all of his personal coats of arms as well as from the official state seal. Louis-Philippe’s three symbols were a book, which was supposed to represent the Charter (La Charte de 1830), a rooster (le coq gaulois) and the tricoloured flag (le tricolore). The rooster and the tricolore were already well-known and well-established symbols that referenced the Revolution of 1789.263 In the course of this revolution, the rooster had become a symbol for the “guardian” of Liberté and the Republic of 1792. However, the coq gaulois only became a major official emblem with the July Monarchy.264 Louis-Philippe had been a supporter of the French Revolution, even fighting with the Revolutionary Army in the Battle of Valmy in 1792, and had been a member of the Jacobin Club. He wished to demonstrate that he still represented the heritage of revolutionary ideas, even though he was a king. Yet, as Guy Antonetti notes, this must be seen as propaganda and manipulation rather than a genuine devotion to the 1789 Revolution.265 But I will argue here that Louis-Philippe’s eagerness to

261 Michel Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, Les lieux de mémoire. III Les France. 3. De l’archive à l’emblème, 525. 262 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 627. 263 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 310–11. 264 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 311. 265 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 577. 78 affiliate himself with the revolution through the use of symbols is interesting because it can tell us something about the function of symbols. Shortly after Louis-Philippe becoming king of the French, a decision was made to build a monument to commemorate those who had perished during the July Revolution. What would the monument represent and where should it be placed? Louis-Philippe purposely placed the monument in the centre of Place de la Bastille, which was famous for its connection to the 1789 Revolution and the storming of the Bastille prison. This decision was also motivated by the king’s affiliation with the first revolution. A column at the Place de la Bastille had already been considered during the first revolution, but was never executed. The Colonne de Juillet, as the monument was called, was finally built between 1835 and 1840, and was placed on a pedestal, which Napoleon had originally started to construct for his project to place a giant elephant-shaped fountain on top of the pedestal. A plaster model of the elephant was placed there in 1814. On 1 March 1833, a minister proposed that the elephant, which was still at the Place de la Bastille, could be transformed as an allegory of the constitutional Charte de 1830.266 This idea was however abandoned, and the Colonne de Juillet was placed in the middle of the Place de la Bastille. The government was not only concerned with choosing appropriate emblems for the July Monarchy, the monuments also mirrored the motivations behind the choice of official emblems. Louis-Philippe strategically placed himself as the heir of both the monarchy and the Revolution. The government also decided to celebrate the July Revolution, in a decision made at the end of July 1830. The reason for this hasty decision was that the new power wanted to credit the men who had participated in the July Revolution, not only to the popular classes, but also to the liberal bourgeois and republicans. The Commission thus decided to create a new, regular celebration, called the “Fête des journées de Juillet”. As Rémi Dalisson states, the power tried to synthesise the memories from 1789, from the Federation and from the “Trois Glorieuses”.267

266 Explication des ouvrages de peinture et dessins, sculpture, architecture et gravure des artistes vivans, 1 March 1833, (Paris, Vichon) 199. 267 Rémi Dalisson, Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur. Fêtes libérales et politiques symboliques en France 1815–1870, preface by Maurice Agulhon, (Paris: La Boutique de l’Histoire, 2004), 67. 79

The revolutionaries from the first revolution were opposed to the use of coats of arms, since they were convinced that coats of arms in general symbolised feudalism and nobility. The fleur-de-lis, which was a major symbol in coats of arms, thus became a symbol that had to be eradicated. Michel Pastoureau explains this “war against royalist symbols” as being instigated by the fall of the French monarchy on 21 September 1792. This event symbolised a turn for the Revolution and initiated a battle against all traditional royal signs, such as the fleur- de-lis and crowns. The royalists, as a reaction to the revolutionaries’ attack on the fleur-de-lis, thus began to use the fleur-de-lis as a militant symbol and a symbol of martyrdom.268 During the July Monarchy the fleur-de-lis thus turned into a symbol for the Carlist/Legitimist opposition, one which they had already presented as their representative symbol. The symbol was appropriated by the Carlist/Legitimist movement. Subsequently the fleur-de-lis became primarily associated with the Legitimist monarchists – the monarchists who were supporting the Bourbon house as the rightful heirs to the throne (sometimes also called “Ultras”, as in “ultra-royalist”, a label that was regularly used during the Bourbon Restoration period). Louis-Philippe’s replacement of the symbol was critised by the republicans, a criticism which is illustrated by Auguste Blanqui’s declaration during the trial against the Société des Amis du Peuple: “Le 29 juillet 1830, je suis entrée ici à la tête du peuple en arme […] de la pointe de nos baïonnettes nous avons déchiré les fleurs de lys que vos yeux chercheront désormais inutilement dans cette enceinte. […] croyez-vous que c’était à de vains insignes que s’adressent nos baïonnettes ? Non ! […] En cela, comme en tout, on a fait mentir la révolution de juillet.”269 With this Blanqui, insinuated that it was because of the republicans that the symbol was replaced, not because of Louis-Philippe’s genuine concern with it. In many of La Charge’s caricatures, the Legitimists are recognised mainly by the fleur- de-lis drawn on their clothes or on objects belonging to them. The republicans and the Legitimists represented the main opposition, the enemies of the July Monarchy, for La Charge, which is exemplified by how they portrayed them in their caricatures. They are often depicted together, suggesting a conspiracy between the two groups, even though they probably stood farther apart politically than the Orléanists did from both the republicans and the Legitimists.

268 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 134. 269 Le National, 12 January 1832. 80

A caricature called “La complainte de la Légitimité” (illustration 3) portrays two Legitimists singing and playing a song called a “complainte”. A “complainte” was a popular type of song that told a story about the misery of a character. This “complainte” is about the misery of the Legitimist movement. The Legitimist newspapers La Quotidienne and La Gazette de France can be seen on the table behind them. La Charge often used these newspapers to show that a person was affiliated with the Legitimist movement.270 The man and the woman are dressed in 18th-century clothes. The woman is wearing a rococo-styled frock, with ruffles and a revealing neckline. Her hair is arranged as a “fontange”, involving a cap decorated with feathers. Both the man and the woman are wearing typical white wigs, which were often powdered to make them white. The popular hairstyle for men was the so-called “ailes de pigeon”, which involved the hair being curled up into tight rolls. The man’s hair is tied back and decorated with a black ribbon. He is also wearing typical 18th- century clothes, such as his coat made of brocade fabric; a style which was usually decorated with flowers and gold and silver thread, but which in this caricature is decorated with fleurs- de-lis. The furniture is also typically rococo-styled – for example, the desk behind the couple. The wall in the background is decorated with fleurs-de-lis. I emphasise the clothing style and the decoration because they are not arbitrary. What these details tell us is that they are supposed to convey associations with the Ancien Régime and with the Legitimists living in the past.

270 The newspaper La Tribune is also barely visible, which is probably placed there to emphasise on the conspiracy between the Legitimists and the republicans. 81

3. La Charge 19 May 1833

The caricatures from the 1830s, in La Caricature and La Charge, used both monarchic symbols (the rooster, the tricoloured flag, the Charter becoming associated with the July Monarchy, but also the traditional fleur-de-lis) and revolutionary/republican symbols (the Phrygian cap, the red flag, “Liberté”). On both sides, meaning both in La Charge as representing the monarchy and in La Caricature representing the opposition, the use of symbols had direct references to the Revolution. I will therefore use caricatures from the pro-government paper La Charge and the oppositional La Caricature to demonstrate how this came to be and what it can tell us about the use of caricatures.

3.3 THE EAGLE AND THE COQ GAULOIS

Why did Louis-Philippe choose the coq gaulois as one of his official emblems? This was not an obvious choice for a king. Another bird, the eagle, was the official French emblem during 82 the First Empire. The eagle is one of the most prominent emblems in Europe, and almost all European countries have used the symbol of the eagle as an official emblem. In France the eagle emblem was not as widespread before Napoleon Bonaparte made it his official symbol in 1804. It became the official emblem of the French Empire, but was abandoned in 1815, during the Bourbon Monarchy, before being brought back in 1852.271 Selecting a new emblem proved to be difficult for Napoleon, especially since he was encouraged to adopt his emblem before the end of the year 1804. Napoleon had some ambitious plans for his symbolic representation, since he wanted to replace the old emblems with new ones, without renouncing the past. With his new symbols he wanted to demonstrate a new era, declaring that this was the beginning of a new age. Pastoureau explains that under the Consulat (1799–1804) the usage of emblems diminished, but one emblem gained an important status: the coq gaulois. On 12 June 1804, the State Consul thus voted in favour of the coq gaulois to become the official symbol of the French Empire.272 Napoleon was not pleased with this decision as he dismissed the rooster as “weak, dirty and ridiculous”.273 The lion was in his opinion too banal, so he opted, under the influence of the writer and artist Vivant Denon (1747– 1825), for the eagle. Napoleon preferred the emblem of the eagle, since it was a more traditional symbol of power and strength, and because of its associations with Roman legions.274 The eagle had also previously been an important symbol for Charlemagne, whom Napoleon admired. These factors reinforced Napoleon’s decision to select the eagle as his official emblem.275 Between 1815 and 1848 the eagle was primarily associated with Napoleon and became a symbol of support for the Bonapartists during the July Monarchy. The fact that Napoleon was so meticulous when choosing the emblem for his empire shows that the use of symbols had great importance, especially since the Bonapartists continued using the emblem after the fall of the First Empire. Yet, the eagle emblem disappeared as an official emblem after the First Empire. It was not until 1852, when Napoleon III became emperor of France, that the eagle as official emblem was re-established. When

271 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 20. 272 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 524. 273 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 24. 274 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 20. In Roman antiquity the eagle was associated with the god Jupiter and became the common insignia for all the legions, so that each legion bore the symbol of the eagle together with their own emblem. 275 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 25. 83 becoming emperor of France, Napoleon III naturally chose the emblem of the eagle, since it was so strongly connected with the name Napoleon. The symbol of the eagle was still linked with the Bonapartist movement, even after the First Empire. The eagle is therefore present in La Charge’s caricatures, generally accompanied by Napoleon’s characteristic hat, to make the reader understand that the person is a Bonapartist. In a caricature called “Nous sommes français, not’ pays avant tout” (illustration 4) from 14 October 1832, a woman representing “La France” is shown as being attacked by three men representing respectively, a republican, a Legitimist/Carlist and a Bonapartist. The Bonapartist is shown brandishing a lance with an eagle decoration on top (which I have marked in the image). Marking a person with a symbol such as an eagle was an easy way for the caricaturist to ensure that the reader would understand who he was trying to portray – otherwise it would demand a longer explanation which could risk undermining the caricature.

4. La Charge 14 October 1832

84

While the eagle was discarded as an official emblem, the coq gaulois, the symbol linked to the Revolution and the people, resurfaced after the revolution in 1830. Louis-Philippe thus chose the “weak and ridiculous” symbol that Napoleon had rejected, the coq gaulois, as his official emblem. The coq gaulois was already used as a symbol for France and the French population prior to the French Revolution, but its origins are still disputed. According to Pastoureau, the origin of the coq gaulois comes from the Romans, notably from the Latin word for rooster, “gallus”, which designated both the rooster and the inhabitants of Gaule.276 The rooster was in this context often associated with the divine in Roman tradition. It was also associated with gods like Apollo, Minerva, Mars, and particularly Mercury. The rooster was characterised as being a solar bird because it represented the start of the day. It thus functioned as part of the rhythm between night and day, and was consequently an important part of Roman mythology and religion. Since rooster fights were a popular entertainment for the Greeks and Romans, the rooster was also portrayed as a warrior, and in this context became a symbol for victory, vigilance and courage.277 During the Middle Ages, the rooster came to be an important part of the Christian faith as it symbolised the call for prayer, because of its recognisable crowing. The rooster also symbolised the clergy’s vigilance and the saints’ vigil over their community.278 However, in medieval profane literature the rooster symbol was mocked and was used to ridicule the people associated with it.279 Enemies of France began to use the symbol to make fun of the French. Louis XIV, “Le Roi Soleil”, however, was particularly fond of the rooster. The rooster was a “solar bird”, which was the perfect symbol for the “Sun King”. Hence, the king hired the painter Charles Le Brun (1619–1690) to create what came to be known as the “French order”, a classical style of architecture, characterised by the rooster symbol and the face of Apollo, that decorated the columns in the Galerie des glaces at the Chateau de Versailles.280 The rooster symbol thus came to be associated with the solar king, and consequently with the monarchy. However, his successor, King Louis XV, discarded the “ordre Français”, and the rooster symbol was provisionally “forgotten”.

276 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 508. 277 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 304. 278 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 305. 279 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 306. 280 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 307. 85

Hence, it was rather uncommon to use the rooster as an official emblem for the king and for the French before the Revolution. The rooster was therefore not a well-known symbol for the majority of French people. The Revolution, however, resulted in the rooster becoming a popular emblem once more, an emblem representing the farmer and the peasant – i.e. the people.281 According to Pastoureau, the revolutionaries and the men of the Enlightenment considered the rooster to represent the Gauls, and not the Francs. The Francs were associated with nobility, and were said to have invaded Gaul.282 “La Révolution a donc rendu aux premiers, soumis et opprimés par les seconds, leur ancienne liberté, et le coq, en même temps que l’aube des temps nouveaux, chante haut et fort cette victoire du peuple.”283 The rooster’s popularity during the Revolution can be illustrated by an anonymous print from 1789, representing the day before the Revolution (illustration 5). The image depicts a farmer who has a rooster on top of his hat. The title of the illustration is “Né pour la peine” and “L’homme de village” and the text under the image says that the “poor farmer” goes to his field every day, even in harsh weather conditions, and that he works hard all year round to collect the fruits of his toil to pay the collector.284 Above the rooster is also written “Réveille matin de Campagne”. The rooster, in this printing, thus symbolises the waking up, the starting point of the Revolution. The coq gaulois consequently transforms into the vigilant rooster whose task is to wake up the French population and prepare them for what is about to come. The rooster became an emblem for “the birth of the new days”, “the birth of a new world” and “the dawn of a new era”.285 After the Revolution the coq gaulois continued to be used as a symbol for the people, and its function was still to represent the majority of the French population. The rooster thus became a symbol for the tiers état: “un coq rural”, as the rooster was called. The coq gaulois was at that time often used as the main opposition to the monarchic symbol, the fleur-de-lis.286

281 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 307. 282 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 521. 283 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 521. 284 “Tous les jours au milieu d'un Champ // Par la Chaleur par la froidure // L'on voit le Pauvre Paysan // Travailler tant que l'année dure // Pour amasser par son labeur // De quoi payer le Collecteur”. This image was part of a series of allegorical and satirical illustrations of different characters published during the reign of Louis XIV. 285 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 304. 286 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 520. 86

5. "Né pour la peine" 1789

The Revolutionary Army’s banners were decorated with the coq gaulois, and sometimes the coq was painted on the tricoloured flag. The official currency engraver during the Revolution, Augustin Dupré (1748–1833), used the emblem of the rooster and the Phrygian/liberty cap in his design. This helped to make the symbol more popular and reach more people.287 The rooster was not as popular as the symbol of the Phrygian cap, but nonetheless became important during the Revolution, especially because it represented, as already mentioned, the people. The rooster

287 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 520. 87 was a more down-to-earth and apolitical symbol, in contrast to the Phrygian cap, which was associated with politics to a greater extent. The coq gaulois was, however, often also used in combination with the personification of “Liberté”, the woman figure incarnating liberty and later the Republic through the representation of “Marianne”. The symbol of the coq gaulois thus became the guardian of “Liberté”. The rooster was a symbol for France and the French, especially abroad in the neighbouring countries. It also became an important part of the lithographs of this period, both on the revolutionary and the anti-revolutionary sides.288 During the Restoration period, the symbol of the fleur-de-lis was reinstated and the coq gaulois was discarded and forgotten. It was not until the July Monarchy that the coq gaulois symbol was resurrected and became, for the first time, an official symbol of France.

3.4 THE COQ GAULOIS IN THE CARICATURE DEBATE

As Michel Pastoureau argues, the symbol of the rooster was different from the cocarde or even the tricoloured flag, because it was an open emblem – “un emblème libre”,289 free from strong connotations – and could therefore represent various things. It could represent the country and the nation, but also the people in arms, ready to defend themselves, and the vigilant state.290 This is probably the reason why Louis-Philippe wished to appropriate the symbol of the coq gaulois to represent the July Monarchy, as it was easy to transform its prior associations with republican revolutionaries to his own government. Since it was important for Louis-Philippe to be known as the Civilian King, one who was close to the people, the rooster symbol was deemed the perfect representation for his rule.

How did the opposition respond to Louis-Philippe’s appropriation of the coq gaulois? It appears as if La Caricature steered away from using the rooster as a revolutionary or

288 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 310. 289 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 521. 290 Pastoureau, “Le coq gaulois”, 521.

88 republican symbol, and instead started to use the symbol to mock the government. A caricature by Benjamin Roubaud (1811–1847) published in La Caricature, dating from January 1834, displays a naked Louis-Philippe, here called “the system”, riding a giant “sort of”291 coq gaulois, as if the rooster was a horse (illustration 6). The intention behind this caricature was presumably to ridicule the coq gaulois, to demonstrate how stupid it appeared when associated with Louis-Philippe. The rooster in this caricature reveals that it is no longer a guardian or a warrior; rather, it is reduced to the animal that it originally was in the enemies’ eyes.

6. Roubaud, La Caricature 1834

291 La Caricature, 30 January 1834: “une façon de coq gaulois.”

89

Another depiction of the rooster from 25 October 1832 shows a coloured caricature292 of a rooster, whose tail resembles the colours of a parrot (illustration 7). The rooster’s wing is tricoloured. In front of the rooster lies a medal which is supposed to be the Légion d’honneur.293 The text under the caricature is a quote from one of La Fontaine’s fables called “Le coq et la perle”. It reads: “Elle est belle, dit-il | Mais le moindre grain de mil | Ferait bien mieux mon affaire.” The medal does not mean anything to the rooster, who would much prefer grains. In the description of the caricature it says: “C’est le people [meaning the rooster] et la croix avilie: tout le monde le voit et une explication serait inutile”.294 La Caricature thus referred to the coq gaulois in this caricature as the symbol of the people, not the government. Louis-Philippe and the government have humiliated both the Légion d’honneur (they have taken the honour from the title) and the coq gaulois and what the symbol represents, according to the caricaturist.

292 The colourisation is specifically commented upon in the text: “[…] aussi ne parlerons nous de ce dessin que pour faire observer à nos abonnés le soin particulier avec lequel il a été colorié.” La Caricature, 25 October 1832. 293 The medal in this image could arguably also be the Ordre de la croix de Juillet, which was a medal given by Louis-Philippe to the men who had fought during the July Revolution. However, I believe it is more likely that the medal in this caricature is the Légion d’Honneur, as it was more famous and arguably more significant than the Ordre de Juillet. 294 La Caricature, 25 October 1832. 90

7. La Caricature 25 October 1832

The rooster is, however, first and foremost portrayed as a victim of the July Revolution in La Caricature: the rooster is trapped, menaced and sometimes killed295 by Louis-Philippe himself or by his government. The caricature from 9 February 1832, by Grandville, Forest and Delaporte (illustration 8), shows Louis-Philippe threatening “Madame” (La République/La France). On the table next to “Madame” a rooster is chained to his perch: “a certain chained bird”, as they suggestively call him without actually calling him the coq gaulois.296 The woman

295 La Caricature, 7 May 1835: a take on a fable from Lafontaine where Louis-Philippe is a cat chasing Jean Lapin (Jean being a nickname for le peuple) after killing the coq gaulois. 296 La Caricature, 9 February 1832: “certain oiseau enchainé.” 91 and the rooster in this caricature are not free, despite the fact that Louis-Philippe affirms to the woman that she is “perfectly free” to divorce from him. The rooster in this caricature is shown as a prisoner of Louis-Philippe and the July Monarchy, and the rooster’s original role as the guardian of “Liberté” is not possible, as he is physically chained and therefore cannot defend the woman. The commentator on the caricature points out that the set of furniture is “parfumé de popularisme et de patrioterie” (“perfumed by populism and patriotism”).

8. La Caricature 9 February 1832

La Charge also often portrays the coq gaulois in its caricatures, although in a different way to La Caricature. In the caricature from La Charge mentioned earlier, which depicts a woman being attacked by three men (illustration 4), we can see that there is a rooster who is defending the woman (France). The rooster stands in front of “France” trying to scare the men away from

92 her. The caricature plays on the rooster’s role as a guardian, as he becomes France and the July Monarchy’s defender. The previous revolutionary and republican connotations of the coq gaulois are in this caricature turned upside down: from being a symbol appropriated by Louis- Philippe to show his sympathy towards the revolutionary movement, the rooster is in this caricature turning against the republicans. The republicans thus become the rooster’s enemies. Louis-Philippe is also present in the caricature, trying to wake “France” up as she has seemingly fainted from the sight of her enemies trying to attack her. This imagery gives a good synopsis of what La Charge’s ambitions were for the paper: to defend the king and the July Monarchy by criticising the opposition. The rooster, by representing the people, is consequently used as a link between the government and the citizens of France.

9. Detail from La Charge 14 October 1832

As already mentioned, the rooster was not the only revolutionary symbol Louis-Philippe appropriated for himself. The tricoloured flag, which was created during the Revolution, became the French national flag during the July Monarchy.

93

3.5 THE “TRICOLORE”

The tricoloured flag bears some similarities to the symbol of the coq gaulois in that it also came to be an official symbol for the July Monarchy, as well as having strong connections to the Revolution. The tricoloured flag represented both the monarchy and republicanism: the colour white was traditionally associated with monarchy, while the red and the blue were associated with republicanism, and were also the colours of the city of Paris.297 Article 67 of the Charter of 1830 stated that France had “regained” its colours and that no other cockades were allowed to be worn than the tricoloured one.298 A cockade is a round- shaped object and symbol that is often worn on hats and in the republican tradition is often depicted on a Phrygian cap. Its name derives from the word “coq”, meaning rooster, because it originally resembled a cock’s comb.299 The use of cockade prior to the Revolution was therefore very common, but was later mainly associated with the revolutionaries. At the beginning of the Revolution in 1789, the cockade could express both adherence and hostility to certain ideas, to the king, the queen or the prince; and cockades could express alliance with certain groups and movements. The colour(s) of the cockade were not fixed and could therefore differ according to which group a person belonged to. It was not until the storming of the Bastille that the question of which colour the cockade ought to be was voiced: should it for example be green? Camille Desmoulins (1760–1794) argued for the use of cockades as a sign of identification and suggested that they should have the colour green, but this was declined when it was discovered that the colour green was associated with the Comte d’Artois, who later became King Charles X, but who at that time was essentially known to be a much-detested prince. The origins of the tricoloured cockade are still contested. La Fayette affirmed in his memoirs that he came up with the idea of the tricolour on 17 July 1789: the idea that the colours representing the king (white) and the National Guard (blue and red) should be merged into one symbol. However, others have also claimed its origin; some have even suggested that it was

297 Alain Boureau, “Le Roi”, Les lieux de mémoire. III Les France. 3. De l’archive à l’emblème, 792. 298 I already mentioned this briefly in the introduction. 299 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 170.

94 the king himself who had proposed those colours. Whoever came up with the tricoloured cockade, it nonetheless became a significant symbol. On 10 June 1790 the Constituting Assembly declared the tricoloured cockade as “national”, the three colours becoming the “three colours of the Nation”.300 The colour blue became especially important at the end of the 18th century: “La fin du XVIIIe siècle ne voit pas seulement, dans toute l’Europe, la naissance du bleu romantique, mélancolique ou onirique; elle voit aussi celle du bleu national, militaire et politique.”301 The colour blue became more political. Thus, the cockade gradually turned more political also; the counter-revolutionaries therefore symbolically opposed the revolutionaries with their own white cockade. On 8 July 1792 it was declared that the tricoloured cockade was mandatory for all men. On 21 September 1793 it was determined that all women also should wear the cockade. The mandatory use of the cockade was abandoned after Robespierre’s fall in 1794. When declaring that all the cockades worn in France were to be tricoloured, Louis- Philippe thus strongly referenced the Revolution. Louis-Philippe supposedly received a tricoloured flag from La Fayette a few days after the July Revolution and commanded that France ought to recover “its national colours”.302 A nation’s official flag is one of the most important emblems a country can have; it is the most striking emblem, particularly in relation to other countries because it is through this symbol that a country is represented. As historian Bernard Richard puts it: it is the emblem “par excellence”, a flag that we raise and that we venerate.303 It is therefore highly symbolic to change the official flag, especially for a monarchy. The reason behind taking the tricoloured flag as an official flag was that it could symbolically unite the republican movement and the monarchists. Since Louis-Philippe had supported the first revolution, there were no contradictions in him taking the tricoloured flag to be his own. However, this was probably rather problematic for the republicans, since the flag had become associated with the revolutionary movement. The republicans thus began to use mainly the red flag. The tricoloured flag is present in several caricatures in La Caricature; however, it is always associated with the July Monarchy. The flag entailed some of the same problems for

300 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 60. 301 Pastoureau, Bleu. Histoire d’une couleur (Éditions du Seuil, 2000), 141. 302 Pastoureau, Bleu. Histoire d’une couleur, 151. 303 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 169. 95 the opposition as the coq gaulois. Because it had become an official state symbol it would inevitably be associated with the monarchy. In a caricature from Le Charivari published on 5 December 1833, Louis-Philippe is depicted wearing a top hat with a cockade on it and he is also carrying an umbrella, which had become a sign of the bourgeoisie at that time.

3.6 THE FEMALE ALLEGORY

Nations have traditionally often been represented by their leaders, and usually by kings.304 This changed with the July Monarchy, since Louis-Philippe no longer used the same symbols as his predecessors. He came to be known as the “Citizen King”. The representation of France through the image of the king, it seems, was no longer relevant or meaningful. La Charge constantly portrays the king as a man wearing “ordinary clothes”, never in regal clothing. I interpret this as a way of expressing that although the staff supported the king, they did not necessarily think that he embodied France. This could explain why La Charge preferred to use the female personification of France and the symbols representing the July Monarchy in their images. It could also be a way of portraying the “Roi-citoyen” as he wanted to be recognised, which was in ordinary clothes because he saw himself as not only the king, but as a part of the people too. In several of La Caricature’s images one can find a female character that is supposed to represent France, the Republic, freedom (Liberté), justice or freedom of the press. La Charge also uses female personifications for the state, freedom (Liberté) and France, but in a different way to La Caricature. The republican personification is known as “Marianne”. She is the female metaphor for the Republic, and is still an important symbol in France today. A bust of “Marianne” can be found in every town hall in France. However, although the first documented use of Marianne was in a revolutionary song from the south of France, it was not until later in the 19th century that the name Marianne came to be the famous personification of the French Republic that it is today.305 Before 1848, it was uncommon to use the figure of Marianne to portray the Republic. Therefore, there is no mention of Marianne in La Caricature, and the

304 Boureau, “Le Roi”, 786. 305 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 82. 96 female allegory was merely a symbol for republican values that can now be interpreted as a form of predecessor of the Marianne figure. After the Revolution in 1789 it was common to portray the Republic’s values in the form of the symbol, or allegory, of “Liberté”. “Liberté” was often personified as a woman and embodied the Republic but was also frequently a symbol for the freedom of the press. It was also common to use symbols such as the Phrygian cap to represent specific republican values. The Convention decided in September 1792, on the proposition of l’abbé Grégoire, to have the woman allegory of “Liberté” on the official seal. The argument was that “finally our emblems will circulate on the earth presenting to all the people the beloved images of freedom and Republican pride”.306 In Article 6 of the decree of 15 August 1792, it was decided that: “Le sceau de l’Etat sera changé; il portera la figure de la Liberté, armée d’une pique surmontée du bonnet de la Liberté, et pour légende: Au nom de la nation française.” A caricature published in La Caricature on 27 September 1832 shows a scene that depicts people playing the game called “Collin-Maillard” (illustration 10). The game involves a player being blindfolded and let loose in a room. The player must then grab a person and try to identify that person by touching his or her face. In this caricature, La Fayette has grabbed Louis-Philippe’s head, which bears a red Phrygian cap.307 La Fayette therefore believes he has grabbed “Liberté”, and says: “I have her!”, which prompts a question from one of the other men: “who do you hold?” La Fayette’s answer is “Eh! Parbleu! La liberté!” Liberté is shown in the background as being restrained and unable to speak because a man has his hand in front of her mouth. In the description of the caricature it says that La Fayette believes he has his hand on “Liberté”, but that he is mistaken, which proves that he has not cheated and that he really is blindfolded. He does not see what is going on in the background, that “Liberté” is being forced back by a man. This, I believe, is meant to be a comment on the current situation in 1832, where La Fayette, one of the heroes from the first revolution, is blind to what is really going on in France. La Fayette believes he is doing the right thing and that the July Monarchy is following the promises made during the July Revolution, but the caricature suggests that he

306 Cited from Jean-Michel Renault, Les fées de la République, 18. 307 The only colour in this image is the red Phrygian cap, as if the caricaturist wanted to accentuate it.

97 has been duped. Louis-Philippe is holding on the Phrygian cap so as not to let La Fayette take it off his head and expose him. Under the king’s left leg, one can see that he has stepped on the coq gaulois, called a “parrot” in the description of the caricature.308 The coq gaulois is often described as a parrot in La Caricature, which I interpret as meaning that the coq gaulois, now being the official symbol of the July Monarchy, has become a bird that is mimicking the real coq gaulois.

10. La Caricature 27 September 1832

The combination of the woman “Liberté” wearing a Phrygian cap, as seen in La Caricature, has strong resemblances to the Marianne figure that would later become the most important symbol of the French Republic, even to this day. In the caricatures of La Caricature, “Liberté”

308 “Je ne vous parlerais ni du bâton du perroquet renversé.” 98 is also given a proper name, but instead of being named Marianne, she is called Françoise, or Françoise-Désirée. As already mentioned, the female allegory for the Republic, or republican values, became widespread with the 1789 Revolution. Many of the caricatures from the Revolution show the woman wearing a Phrygian cap. As Joan B. Landes points out, this figure was supposed to mark a transition from how the monarchy had traditionally been represented to a new representation. Yet, while marking a rupture with their own past, the monarchic rule also drew inspiration from the past: specifically, from Roman and Greek culture, by portraying the woman as a goddess dressed in antique clothes.309 The female metaphor for France was not a novelty at that time, and it circulated long before the Revolution.310 The woman was then often shown with a crown made of stone, as a way of showing that she was guarding the city walls. This is often how France is portrayed in La Charge. La Caricature also sometimes uses a female personification of France with a crown on her head, as shown in the caricature called “La France, livrée aux corbaux de toute espèce” from 13 October 1831 (illustration 11). This caricature shows France dead, being picked on by crows. The crows are wearing clothes that resemble lawyers’ gowns. Lawyers were often called “crows” in France at that time. France is shown with draped clothes, a crown on her head and a broken chain on her right foot, which probably means that she has tried to escape from imprisonment. The reason why La Caricature drew France in this way was probably due to the fact that the caricature was published during the journal’s second year – the republican personification, portrayed with a Phrygian cap, was more prominent in its later years.

309 Joan B. Landes, Visualizing the nation. Gender, Representation, and Revolution in Eighteenth-Century France (Cornell University Press, 2001), 76. 310 Landes, Visualizing the nation, 76. 99

11. La Caricature 13 October 1831

Why use a woman to represent a country, a political system, a concept or a value? Women in caricatures – and this is the case on every side of the political spectrum – are often portrayed in a negative way: they are weak and impressionable, they are often shown seducing and corrupting men, and if they are not seductive they are portrayed as bitter and ugly. However, when representing the country or the Republic, the woman becomes strong and independent. Historian Lynn Hunt explains this by stating that “the proliferation of the female allegory was made possible, in fact, by the exclusion of women from public affairs. Women could be representative of abstract qualities and collective dreams because women were not about to vote or govern.”311 Historian Joan B. Landes further states that “Liberty seems to satisfy the

311 Cited from Landes, Visualizing the nation, 74.

100 foremost requirement of the new symbolic system: to achieve an abstract, impersonal representation that carried none of the connotations of monarchical rule.”312 Although Hunt and Landes are commenting on the female representation “Liberté” during the Revolution in 1789, this also applies to the July Monarchy’s representation of France and Liberté in La Caricature. Even in La Charge, a paper that did not mind the connotations of monarchic rule, this “impersonal” France could extend Louis-Philippe’s desire to break with the traditional monarchical symbols. The female France in La Charge, is, as already mentioned, portrayed with a crown, just like the monarchic anti-revolutionary caricatures during the Revolution. However, in the anti-revolutionary caricatures her crown was often decorated with a fleur-de-lis on top. La Charge’s France functions as an opposition to “Liberté”/”République” and is an easy way of showing who the enemies of France are. This is especially obvious in the caricature published in early 1832 called “La France n’en veut pas” (illustration 12). The caricature depicts a republican and a Legitimist climbing towards a woman, who represents France, pushing a big Phrygian hat on which is written “1789” and “183x”313. France has a shield with a rooster on it and she is putting her foot on the Phrygian hat to prevent the men from climbing up to her. This caricature resembles the one mentioned earlier, where France is attacked by three men, but in this one France is not unconscious or weak: she looks strong and determined. She pushes away a republican and a Legitimist who are trying to shove a giant Phrygian cap towards her.314 The coq gaulois on her shield is placed beside her as a warning sign for her enemies: the Legitimists and the republicans.

312 Landes, Visualizing the nation, 74. 313 The number is intentionally hidden, probably to suggest that the number it is meant to be is “1832”, since that was the year of the June Rebellion. However, it could also suggest that another revolution might be possible in the near future. 314 This plays on La Charge’s argument that there was a conspiracy between the Legitimists and the republicans, that they were “working together” to bring down the July Monarchy. The chapter titled “Conspiracy” in Amy Wiese Forbe’s The Satiric Decade discusses the use of conspiracy thinking from the oppositional satire and the anti-oppositional satire in the July Monarchy, in which she also discusses La Charge’s conspiracy “theme”. 101

12. La Charge 4 November 1832

France is here portrayed with the coq gaulois, again supporting the claim that La Charge was deliberately using the July Monarchy’s symbols. The personification of France resembles La Caricature’s “Liberté”, even though they represent different opinions. My interpretation of the personification of France in La Charge is that she is a republicanised form of the traditional way of portraying France, in the same way that the July Monarchy appropriated some of the “republican” emblems. She has a crown on her head, perhaps to show that France is a monarchy, but she also wears some of the republican emblems that Louis-Philippe had

102 appropriated to his reign, and her crown is not decorated with fleurs-de-lis. She is often portrayed in La Charge holding a book representing the Charter of 1830, which is arguably a way of saying that France incarnates the values that led to the July Revolution and consequently the July Monarchy. The Charter of 1830 made the French population equal to the law and committed the king to upholding the promises made during the Revolution. The Charter represented not only the July Monarchy but also the king’s obligation to the people. La Charge’s caricaturist occasionally also named the female allegory “Liberté”, similarly to its female representation of “France”. A caricature from 7 July 1833 called “La belle et la bête” shows two statues of women side by side (illustration 13). The one on the left is called “Liberté”, according to La Charge, while the other statue is supposed to represent “La République”. The caricaturist describes the caricature in a caption, where he compares the two women. The first woman, “Liberté”, looks pretty to “everyone”, he claims. He explains that the two women behave according to their given attributes, and furthermore, that their different appearances also mirror their different personalities and their morality: one is brave, and one is a coward. Some are pretty and have a “bel-esprit” while others are ugly and stupid, the caricaturist says, hinting that the first description suits “Liberté” while the other suits “La République”. “Liberté” looks poised and strong, sitting on a lion which “is the emblem for strength”, but also traditionally a symbol of the people.315 The text explains that she is pretty because of her “noble origin”, and because of “all the blessings that follow her, by her wise liberty that is grounded in the laws and by using her force only for the common good at the same time as she works for the individual good”. I interpret these last sentences as a way to distinguish La Charge’s take on “Liberté” from the republican “Liberté”. Since both La Caricature and La Charge used the female allegory for “Liberté”, it appears as if La Charge wanted to point out what the differences implied. The republican “Liberté” signified chaos and egoism, and a lack of respect for the authorities, according to La Charge. La Charge’s “Liberté” however, follows the rules and has respect for the authorities.

315 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 18. 103

13. La Charge 7 July 1833

“Liberté” is not only sitting on a lion, she is also sitting on a base where the “Charte de 1830” is written and where the values of “freedom of conscience”, “freedom of the press”, “individual freedom”, “equality before the law”, “respect for ownership” and “protection of the industries” are engraved. These are the values that the “Liberté” in La Charge stands for according to the caricaturist, in contrast to the republican “Liberté”. The caricature from 3 March 1831 in La Caricature shows a little girl, called “Liberté” and “Françoise Désirée”, and described as “the people’s daughter” (illustration 14). It says that she was born in Paris on 27 July 1830, and she is portrayed with a Phrygian hat. The girl wears straps that are being pulled by Louis-Philippe and his ministers. Instead of being free and grown up like the “Liberté” in Delacroix’s painting, the girl in La Caricature is a little girl being treated as a stubborn child by the ministers. The ministers are struggling to manage her, even though she is very small. They are saying that they don’t have the strength (to manage her) and that they are “submerged”. Louis-Philippe is asking “But… why?” which can be interpreted as “why are we doing this?” The men portrayed in the caricature are ministers from 104 the parti de la Résistance, a group of ministers in the government that were opposed to the liberal group parti du Mouvement, which was favourable to liberal reforms and wanted to give more freedom to the French population, including freedom of expression. The parti du Mouvement saw the Charter of 1830, the liberal charter that established the July Monarchy, as a way towards more democracy. The little girl, who is the one pulling the men forward, I interpret as incarnating the Mouvement. The men, embodying the Résistance, are struggling to “resist” and are trying to pull her backwards.

14. La Caricature 3 March 1831

Louis-Philippe was sympathetic towards the liberals but also had to compromise with the parti de la Résistance and that is perhaps why he, in this caricature, is presented as helping them. In 1831 Louis-Philippe had broken entirely with the Mouvement and was only collaborating with 105 the Résistance. Nevertheless, he is presented as a powerless king who must follow his ministers’ demands.

3.7 COAT OF ARMS

Emblems and symbols are especially significant and apparent in coats of arms since the function of coats of arms is to represent something or someone through selected representative symbols. A coat of arms traditionally contains heraldic components such as a shield (escutcheon), supporters, a crest, a helmet, coronet or crown, mantling and a motto. They were and are still used to represent various things, such as a family, an organisation, an order, a state or even an individual person. A coat of arms constitutes an emblem, but is composed of different symbols.316 France has had several official coats of arms since 1211, when the coat of arms containing a blazon decorated with several fleurs-de-lis and a crown on top was first systematised. The official coats of arms changed after 1211, but prior to Napoleon came to power in 1804 they all included fleurs-de-lis. Napoleon replaced the fleur-de-lis with an eagle in the centre of the blazon, which is something I will come back to later in this chapter. The fleurs-de-lis were added again in 1814, but were finally discarded in 1831 with Louis-Philippe. The July Monarchy’s first coat of arms, from 1830, contained a blazon with three fleurs-de-lis. The coat of arms also contained two crowns, tricoloured flags and several roosters, to name just some of the elements. However, this coat of arms was replaced in 1831 and the fleurs-de-lis on the blazon were exchanged with a representation of the “Charte de 1830” (illustrations 15 and 16). Historian Michel Pastoureau claims that there was a prevailing prejudice against coats of arms and crests at that time in France that consisted of branding them as “signs of nobility”. He writes that the association between crests and the nobility can be dated back to the French Revolution, when on 19 June 1790 the Constituting Assembly suppressed crests, stating that they were “signs of feudality”.317 Yet, as Pastoureau points out,

316 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 9. 317 Pastoureau, “Héraldique” in Encyclopædia Universalis [online], consulted 18 June 2018, http://www.universalis-edu.com/encyclopedie/heraldique/, 1. 106 the Constituents omitted the fact that corporations, institutions, administrations, merchants and artisans also often used crests, not only the nobility. Perhaps this dispute concerning what coats of arms represented is the reason why La Caricature created a series of fictional coats of arms. They published caricatures that represented different fictive coats of arms they had made up for the different political movements, for the government and for the ministers. These coats of arms contain many symbols, and they play on the political emblems and symbols that were used at the time. A caricature called “Armes du peuple, arme du juste milieu” was published on 26 May 1831 with two coats of arms, one representing “the people” and one representing the “juste milieu” (illustration 17). This caricature, I argue, is a good example of how La Caricature, as the opposition, used symbols and emblems to criticise the government by commenting on the July Monarchy’s own emblems and on the tradition of emblems in France. Historian Annie Duprat has written an article about this caricature in the magazine Ridiculosa, which is dedicated to (primarily but not exclusively French) research on caricature. Her interpretation of the caricature is that it represents a “confrontation of ideologies and a confrontation of symbols”.318 She further writes that these two blazons “play the role of talking arms to express the permanent political combat between the people and the power”.

318 Annie Duprat, “Confrontation des idéologies, confrontation des symboles. Charles Philipon, premier blasonnier de la meilleure des Républiques”, Ridiculosa. Les prodédés de déconstruction de l’adversaire, (2001/8): 230. 107

15. France's coat of arms before 1830 16. France's coat of arms during the July Monarchy

17. La Caricature 26 May 1831

108

18. La Caricature 10 May 1832

The original description of the caricature, probably written by the caricaturist himself, says: “Il appartient à La Caricature, dans un moment où l’on recherche les dignités, de créer un nouveau blason.”319 Since Louis-Philippe had taken on three emblems to represent his reign, this could explain why La Caricature declares with this caricature that it “should create a new coat of arms”. It sought to restore France’s “dignity”, with something that could represent the people of France. The people’s coat of arms, on the left, shows a red shield with three bricks drawn on it, as an intended reference to the 1830 Revolution’s three days called “les Trois Glorieuses”. A Phrygian cap is placed on top of the shield and is decorated with a “cocarde”. The tricoloured cockade was made the official cockade in the Charter of 1830: “Article 67. – La France reprend ses couleurs. A l'avenir, il ne sera plus porté d'autre cocarde que la cocarde tricolore.”

319 La Caricature, 26 May 1831. 109

Some of the objects behind the shield are supposed to symbolise the peasants, the working class and students, all of whom had participated in the revolutions in both 1789 and 1830. Next to the people’s coat of arms is the coat of arms for the juste milieu. On the shield, which is tricoloured (probably a reference to the tricoloured flag being the official flag of the July Monarchy) are drawn three symbols representing past political regimes: a bee (symbol of the Bonapartists), a fleur-de-lis (symbol of the Bourbon house) and what appears to be an emaciated rooster (the coq gaulois being the July Monarchy’s official emblem) eating a worm. On the banner under the people’s coat of arms is written “Misery, always misery”, while on the juste milieu’s coat of arms it says “Mieux vaut la honte que la guerre”.320 Pastoureau writes that an emblem will always responds to another emblem to which it is either opposed or associated:321 “Un emblème n’est jamais isolé ; il ne vient jamais seul sur le devant de la scène politique ou idéologique, mais au contraire ne prend tout son sens, ne “fonctionne” pleinement que pour autant qu’il est associé ou opposé à un ou plusieurs autres emblèmes.”322 The Phrygian cap from the people’s coat of arms is, in the juste milieu’s version, turned into a nightcap in the shape of a funnel (funnels having been a symbol for insanity since the Middle Ages323). This caricature is a distinct example of how the opposition responded to Louis- Philippe’s appropriation of certain symbols, which were associated with the 1789 and 1830 Revolutions. Another similar caricature was published on 17 May 1832, and contains the king’s and the people’s coats of arms (illustration 18). This caricature plays on Louis- Philippe’s unofficial title as the “Citizen King”, which is why his coat of arms is decorated with a top hat. The top hat and the umbrella also comment on the opposition’s accusation that the king represented the bourgeoisie, not the French population. La Charge also incorporated coats of arms in its caricature, and I interpret these as a reaction to La Caricature’s coats of arms since La Charge often drew inspiration from La Caricature’s content. The use of the coats of arms in La Charge seems to almost respond to La Caricature. The difference between them is that the ones in La Charge are meant to ridicule

320 La Caricature, 26 May 1831. 321 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 7. 322 Pastoureau, Les emblèmes de la France, 13. 323 Hélène Duccini, “L’entonnoir”, Ridiculosa. Les prodédés de déconstruction de l’adversaire, (2001/8): 119. 110 the opposition, not the government. One caricature portrays the jurist and political pamphleteer Louis Marie de Lahaye de Cormenin (1788–1868), here called Marquis de la Boudinière (illustration 19). There is a coat of arms hanging behind him in the background, which is supposed to represent him. The caricature makes fun of the fact that Cormenin had been titled baron in 1818 and later vicomte in 1826, as well being descended from a family that belonged to the “noblesse de robe”. Cormenin became a far-left politician after the July Revolution and increasingly took the part of the opposition. The caricature emphasises the hypocrisy of being titled a baron and a vicomte while simultaneously expressing adherence to Sansculottism:

Plaisanterie à part, c’est une calamité pour l’honorable république de voir parmi ses coryphées des gens qui, non contents d’être nés barons, passent leur vie à se faire vicomtes ou marquis ; des gens qui sous la dynastie déchue, donuaient dans toutes les bassesses de la grandeur et de l’aristocratie, et qui le lendemain sont devenus les effrontés prôneurs de la démocratie et du sans-culotisme. Si j’avais le malheur de m’être fait sans-culotte, après m’être fait vicomte de Cormen.s, j’irai me cacher de honte.324

324 La Charge, 27 October 1833. 111

19. La Charge 27 October 1833

This caricature can also be interpreted as being a comment on the conspiracy between the republicans and the Legitimists, which is frequently “exposed” in La Charge. Another coat of arms from La Charge is depicted in a caricature from 13 October 1833 and plays on the Legitimist coat of arms (illustration 20).325 I will primarily focus on the coat

325 The caricature, as the previous one, also plays on the conspiracy between the republicans and the Legitimists, illustrated by the two men draped in the newspapers La Tribune and La Quotidienne.

112 of arms at the bottom of the image which incorporates a coat of arms that is said to be “Henriquint” (as in Henri V): “Vous y verrez le bourrelet d’Henriquint, son mirliton, son petit drapeau, et les béquilles de M. Châteauterne.”326 The “Henriquinquistes” were the ones supporting Henri V, Charles X’s grandson and son of the Duchess of Berry, as the rightful heir to the crown, and were also called Légitimistes or Carlists.327 The canes are said to belong to Chateaubrilland, here called Châteauterne, a play on the word “brillant” meaning “bright” and the word “terne” meaning “bleak”. These canes are perhaps an answer to La Caricature’s series, “Gallery of celebrities”, where there is a depiction of a minister called Charles-Malo- François de Lameth (1757–1832) whose fictive blazon also contained canes, a comment on his poor health as he died later that year.328

326 La Charge, 13 October 1833. 327 The “Legitimists” could designate both those that supported Charles X (also called the Carlistes) and those that supported Henry V (Henriquinquistes). 328 La Caricature, 26 April 1832. 113

20. La Charge 13 October 1833

A coat of arms’ representative function is to highlight the best features of the object, in this case the monarchy. When creating their own coat of arms by imitating the official coats of arms, La Caricature mocked the seriousness of its representative function. The fictive coats of arms’ function would then reveal the silliness of the July Monarchy’s representation and how it wanted to be perceived by the public.

114

By extension, this resembles the way La Caricature created the coat of arms representing the king and the ministers. La Charge, in the same way that they did with the pear symbol, reacted to the coat of arms by creating a counter-symbol.

3.8 THE PEAR AND THE BRIOCHE

Since I have now covered the importance of symbols and emblems in 1830s France, I will now concentrate on how La Caricature and La Charge created their own symbols. As I mentioned in the introductory chapter, Charles Philipon famously portrayed Louis-Philippe’s head gradually becoming a pear in a courtroom where he was defending himself after government officials accused La Caricature of “injury to the person of the king” for a caricature of Louis- Philippe as a mason. Philipon argued that they had merely symbolised the power of the government through the figure that resembled Louis-Philippe. He then drew the different stages of the face of Louis-Philippe metamorphosing into a pear, and emphasised for each step that the figure merely resembled the king, but that the king was not actually depicted in the drawing (illustration 21). The caricature was then drawn by Honoré Daumier after Philipon’s sketch and published in La Caricature in 1831. This image of the king as a pear was multiplied and recreated throughout the first years of the July Monarchy, and the king came to be known as “The Pear King” (Le Roi-Poire), a play on royal titles such as “The Sun King” for Louis XIV, and on Louis-Philippe’s wish to be known as “The Citizen King” (Le Roi-Citoyen). It was a way to desacralize the king’s otherwise almost divine position. Antoine de Baecque argues that this was a well-known method during the revolution of 1789: “La force de la representation symbolique, autrefois si utile au pouvoir royal pour affirmer son pouvoir et son prestige (images du roi-guérisseur, du roi-saint, du roi-père, du roi- État) s’est brusquement retourné.”329 Many historians and art historians have devoted articles and books to the pear

329 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 45.

115 caricature and how popular it became.330 Ségolène Le Men asserts that the piriform existed before Philipon’s pear-caricature in visual and verbal caricatures but Philipon claimed to have invented the symbol.331

330 Such as Fabrice Erre, Le règne de la poire (2011); Sandy Petrey, In the Court of the Pear King (2005); Ségolène Le Men, “Calligraphie, calligrame, caricature” (1984) and “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, Genesis (2004); Jean Paul Clément and Philippe Régnier, Caricature politiques (1829–1848): De l’éteignoir à la poire (Conseil Général des Hauts de Seine, Maison de Chateaubriand, 1994); James Cuno, “Charles Philipon and ‘La Poire’: Politics and Pornography in Emblematic Satire, 1830–1835”, Consortium on Revolutionary Europe, 1750-1850: Proceedings 1984, edited by Harold T. Parker, (Athens, Georgia: Consortium on Revolutionary Europe, 1984). 331 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 60. 116

21. Charles Philipon 1831

The pear caricature became so popular that even Legitimist papers such as Brid’Oison began to refer to the king as “pear”, which demonstrates that the paper’s contributors expected their pro-monarchic readers to understand the reference. La Caricature started incorporating the

117 pear everywhere, even in the backgrounds of their caricatures, for example as graffiti on walls,332 which I will come back to in a later chapter on caricatures and the public sphere. The pear became a symbol of Louis-Philippe, of the July Monarchy and of the juste milieu, a symbol “everybody” could recognise. People could now ask “have you seen the latest pear?” understood as “have you seen the latest caricature of Louis-Philippe?” The symbol of the pear was now associated with Louis-Philippe. The government tried to fight back against the caricatures, by giving fines and sentencing the caricaturists, such as Daumier for example. Philipon commented on this himself:

Ce que j'avais prévu arriva. Le peuple saisi par une image moqueuse, une image simple de conception et très simple de forme, se mit à imiter cette image partout où il trouva le moyen de charbonner, barbouiller, de gratter une poire. Les poires couvrirent bientôt toutes les murailles de Paris et se répandirent sur tous les pans de murs de France.333

When creating his own paper, the editor of La Charge positioned it as a counter to La Caricature, which he ultimately copied excessively.334 Therefore, in 1832, La Charge created, as a counterpart to the pear, their own “pear”. La Charge’s symbol was a brioche, as I mentioned in the introduction. According to the caricaturist who created the brioche caricature, and who is anonymous, the revolutionary cap, or Phrygian cap, resembles a brioche: “La silhouette de la brioche représente exactement celle du bonnet phrygien, autrement dit, du bonnet de la République.”335 The symbol of the brioche was not La Charge’s creation however, as it was regularly used in oppositional caricatures before 1832. Fabrice Erre notes in Le règne de la poire that the symbol of the brioche was a popular companion to the pear symbol and that the pear and the brioche were often associated symbols. According to him, “la brioche, pâtisserie de forme bouffie, peut prétendre au titre d’emblème satirique”.336 How did La Charge use the symbol? The first glimpse of the “brioche” can be found in a caricature

332 Ségolène Le Men describes the use of the pear caricature also as a graffiti, in the article “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”. 333 Letters from 7 July 1846 to Roslje, Léopold Carteret, Le Trésor du bibliophile romantique et moderne, III, (Paris: L. Carteret, 1924), 124. 334 Sarah Hervé, “Le Poiricide – Pæremordet. Karikaturstriden under Julimonarkiet i Frankrike”, Arr. Idéhistorisk tidsskrift, 2 (2018): 71-83. 335 La Charge, 14 April 1833. 336 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 132.

118 published on 9 December 1832 called “L’opposition rendant son compte” where we can see a man “of the opposition” throwing up small brioches.337 To understand the meaning of the symbol of the brioche in La Charge, we must first turn to another image. A caricature, published on 14 April 1833 and called “Est-ce un bonnet… Est-ce une brioche…?”, depicts an assembly in which a republican man has a head of a hyena (illustration 22). The republican hyena presents a giant brioche to the assembly. The text that explains the caricature states: “Par l’effet d’une singulière ressemblance, les membres de l’honorable assemblée, de près comme de loin, prennent cette monstrueuse brioche pour le bonnet de la République.”338 It is also revealed in the text that this “republican hyena” is trying to seduce the assembly with a brioche that he promises “contains a lot of butter” (which indicates that it is a good brioche). The text discloses that the hyena is lying to the assembly, and that the brioche is in reality burnt. The men on the right side of the hyena are supposed to be werewolves, and are representing the republican part of the assembly. They are eager to grab and eat the brioche. One of them is saying “we would eat it”. The men on the far left, on the other hand, are supposed to personify the Orléanists. The one who is portrayed as a sheep is supposed to represent a Legitimist, who is saying rather nervously “I could eat some of it”. His body language tells us that he is not as confident as the republican werewolves, and he looks more timid. The purpose of this caricature is, in my opinion, to illustrate what the republicans were offering to the society. They were promising change, to create a new society. Yet, their promises were worth no more than a burnt brioche, according to La Charge’s caricaturist. Those who believed that the brioche was good had been fooled by its appearance. The majority of the assembly, the ones sitting behind the republicans and the Legitimist, however, are shouting loud and clear “we will not eat it”. Interestingly, a man on the same side as the Legitimist sheep resembles Louis-Philippe, since he has the same hair and sideburns as the king (at least, according to how he was often depicted in images at that time). This is perhaps

337 La Charge, 9 December 1832. 338 La Charge, 14 April 1833. 119 a small critique of the government’s passivity towards the republicans, which Louis-Philippe was often criticised for, even by his supporters.

22. La Charge 14 April 1833

The brioche symbol would go on to be used in several caricatures, sometimes with a small caption under the symbol saying, for example, “nouveau chapeau de la République” or something along those lines. La Charge’s editor even claimed, perhaps not seriously, that a baker in Paris had decorated his sign with the brioche and the text “Au nouveau Bonnet de la République”.339 Although La Charge does not explicitly say that the pear was the source of inspiration for the brioche, this extract from the journal nevertheless compares the brioche to the pear:

339 La Charge, 5 May 1833.

120

Ceux qui ont fait de la poire un emblème si ingénieux, à les croire, qu’ils l’ont mis et le mettent encore à toute sauce, viennent de faire de la brioche un emblème non moins ingénieux. La silhouette de la brioche représente exactement celle du bonnet phrygien, autrement dit, du bonnet de la République. Seulement, les inventeurs ne se chargeront pas d’exploiter cette ressemblance.”340

It is also interesting to note that both the pear and the brioche are described as emblems, which demonstrates La Charge’s understanding of the symbols’ power and meaning. La Charge had, as I have already mentioned, stated that emblems had become “à la mode”, and perhaps they were likewise commenting on the pear symbol becoming a sort of emblem “à la mode” for the opposition. Furthermore, the quote implicitly states that the brioche was a copy of the pear. However, La Charge also states in this text that the “inventors” of the brioche would not “exploit” the resemblance to the Phrygian cap like the inventors of the pear had done. This is not surprising, since La Charge often claimed that the paper was more “moral” and “righteous” than other satirical papers.341 The symbol of brioche was supposed to represent the republicans and their values, which La Charge wished to criticise and ridicule. The “uneatable” brioche thus symbolised what La Charge wanted the people to understand about republicanism: that it might sound like a good idea, but that it in reality does not work. That republicanism is an illusion, which the republicans try to sell to the public. The brioche looks good, but it is actually burnt and leaves a bitter aftertaste. Ultimately, this became what I will call a “battle of symbols” in which La Caricature and Le Charivari managed to dominate the satirical press during the first years of the July Monarchy, especially through the pear symbol. La Charge, representing the “opposition to the opposition”, had to respond to this symbol by creating its own. Yet, the symbol of the brioche was already being used by the opposition, so it is perhaps more precise to say that La Charge appropriated the symbol of the brioche. Additionally, the struggle for La Charge was that the brioche only functioned because it opposed the pear, not as an independent symbol. The brioche thus represents symbolically La Charge’s whole mission: to counter the opposition’s impact by mirroring their tactics.

340 La Charge, 7 April 1833. 341 I will come back to this discussion of morality and righteousness in Chapter 6, on La Charge and its relation to the public sphere.

121

As Fabrice Erre notes in Le règne de la poire, the pear caricature has been interpreted as a sexual, obscene object and as “anatomically suggestive” by historians such as James Cuno and Nicola Cotton.342 Erre remarks that there is no mentioning of implied obscenity in the critique of the pear that would suggest any sexual characteristic, although the pear would sometimes be defined as “obscene”. The brioche on the other hand, is arguably more sexually suggestive than the pear. As illustrated underneath (illustration 23), in the lithography called “Premiers Pâtissiers de la République”343, the form of the brioche does contain some “anatomically suggestive” features, which I would argue were drawn intentionally by La Charge’s caricaturist. La Charge does not comment explicitly on the shape of the brioche in this lithography, yet it does seem unlikely that the similarity between the brioche and a penis was accidental. In my opinion, the sexual implication of a flaccid penis is also not an uncommon or strange way to criticise an opponent. I will not argue that the shape of the brioche was meant to mirror any sexual suggestions that one could find in the pear symbol, but merely that the brioche does have some more obvious sexual properties.

342 Erre, Le règne de la poire, 133–134. 343 La Charge, 5 May 1833. 122

23. La Charge 5 May 1833

3.9 CONCLUSION

The caricatures published in La Charge and La Caricature, I argue, demonstrate that the journalists and caricaturists were highly aware of the symbols that Louis-Philippe had chosen for his reign, since they used and referred to them actively in their drawings. Furthermore, Louis-Philippe’s symbols were already established in French society, which explains why the caricaturists integrated them in their drawings. Baecque argues that the use of symbols in revolutionary caricatures was widespread. The caricatures from the 1830s thus played on codes and symbols that caricaturists had already been using 40 years earlier, albeit in a different context. I argue that symbols and emblems were important for the caricaturists in La Charge and La Caricature because they were associated with specific traditions, and with political and social movements and institutions. The symbols were therefore useful, I argue, to the

123 caricaturists’ speech acts. Symbols and emblems were an easy way for caricaturists on both sides to designate and make the readers understand who they were portraying and what they were representing. This was an effective strategy for the caricaturists to represent a political party, for example, by using a symbol associated with its politics. By placing a fleur-de-lis on a man, the reader would immediately understand that the caricaturist had depicted a Legitimist, not an Orléanist, because the reader would also be aware that Louis-Philippe had discarded this symbol. When La Caricature depicted a chained rooster next to “Liberté”, the caricaturist must have been confident that the reader would understand that the symbol of the coq had been “taken” by the government as an official symbol, but he also must have assumed that the readers of La Caricature knew what the symbol of the coq actually stood for, or what it was meant to stand for, which was the guardian of “Liberté”. If the symbol had not been associated with the Revolution prior to the July Monarchy, the portrayal of the coq gaulois would probably not have been presented in this manner. Louis-Philippe was torn between wanting to be portrayed as a king, in the monarchic tradition, and as empathic towards the revolutionary movement. This ambiguity reflected his politics of juste milieu. The July Monarchy’s emblems arguably amplified the opposition’s accusations against the politics of the juste milieu, with the king adopting symbols that represented a political middle ground. The 1789 Revolution and its symbols were still of great importance in the 1830s. The republican symbols were well established in society after the first revolution and could therefore be understood and recognised by a larger public than before. The symbolism from the republican movement became even more accentuated in the 1830s, and much of it referred to the first revolution. Since the caricaturists could reach out to the French population more easily and on a larger scale than before, the expansion of these symbols was even greater than during the first revolution. As a consequence of, among other things, Louis-Philippe’s appropriation of these symbols to represent his reign, some argued that republicanism had almost become “mainstream”. French politician and philosopher Pierre Joseph Proudhon (1809–1865) was certainly aware of this and even professed that calling oneself a republican did not mean anything anymore, as he wrote in his famous work Qu’est-ce que la propriété

124

(1840): “Now whoever is concerned with public affairs, under whatever form of government, may call himself a republican. Even kings are republicans.”344 As Bernard Richard, who I mentioned in the second chapter on symbols and emblems, notes, the republican emblems have never had a consensus, they have always been objects of conflict because they refer to a conflicted subject: the first revolution.345 The symbols presented in this chapter were, I maintain, contested symbols, meaning they essentially did not belong to a specific political side, but nonetheless became associated with political movements. Richard argues that the “richesses des images, des symboles, tient au fait qu’un même signe peut représenter des réalités ou des notions qui varient selon le lieu, le temps, le contexte, le public. Cette plasticité des images peut cependant dérouter et nuire à leur lisibilité.”346 I adhere to this view, and will come back to contested concepts and symbols in La Charge and La Caricature in later chapters. I have exemplified this plasticity and the contextual aspect of symbols through the caricatures that I have referred to in this chapter. It became simultaneously a battle for and with symbols that took place in the caricatures of La Charge and La Caricature. By analysing the use of political symbols in these two journals, I have aimed at uncovering a certain political visual language that can be found in the caricatures: how they criticised and branded their opponents, and at the same time aimed at representing certain political values through symbols. By the way the caricatures used and branded symbols, they sought not only to depict a reality, but also to interfere in and change this reality. In the next chapter, I will discuss the use and representation of the concept of revolution in the caricatures of the 1830s.

344 Cited in Forbes, The Satiric Decade, 228. 345 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 13. 346 Richard, Les emblèmes de la République, 18. 125

4. HISTORY OF EXTRAVAGANCES:

REPRESENTATIONS OF THE REVOLUTIONS

La Charge’s subtitle declares that the journal’s goal is serving the “histoire de nos extravagances”.347 The Revolution of 1789 was one of the “extravagances” that the journal often commented on, especially regarding how the republicans used the Revolution to justify their cause and violence, both physical violence and in the press. As I explained in the previous chapter, the 1830 Revolution played on the symbols and discussion of the 1789 Revolution. But how did La Charge perceive the revolutions of 1789 and 1830? Erre argues that the satirical journal “produit et observateur de la culture souscitée par les révolutions, est un symptôme d’une société en transition.”348 I will argue that La Charge is precisely a reaction to this culture promted by the revolutions. In this chapter I will explore La Charge and La Caricature’s perceptions of the two revolutions. The previous chapter presented important symbols and emblems that were used in caricatures in the 1830s. Many of them were linked to the Revolution, but what do they tell us about the two journal’s analysis of the revolutions? How did they symbolically represent the revolution, in order to appropriate its historical significance for the French society and future? As I demonstrated in the previous chapter, the July Revolution’s symbolism drew inspiration from the previous revolution in 1789, but the journal’s judgment of its outcomes were arguably very different. As Kerr puts it, “the Revolution of 1830 fundamentally altered the relationship between the government and the people of France.”349 The constitutional monarchy which ruled from 1830 saw the constitutional years during the first revolution as a potentially unifying example. In this chapter I will argue that these sentiments are reflected in the caricatures produced after the July Revolution. I will explore how the concept of revolution was understood in the 1830s through its representations in La Charge and La Caricature. I will compare the two papers’ understanding

347 La Charge ou Les Folies Contemporaines. Recueil de Dessins satiriques et philosophiques pour servir à l’histoire de nos extravagances. 348 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part III, 111. 349 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 146. 126 of the legacy of the 1789 Revolution and show how they portrayed the revolutions (both 1789 and 1830) in their caricatures. I will illustrate this through La Charge and La Caricature’s interpretations of the 1789 Revolution in their own time, and how they wrote about and represented the Revolution in general.

4.1 THE SYMBOLS OF THE REVOLUTION

As elaborated in the third chapter where I discuss symbols, Louis-Philippe appropriated some of the symbols associated with the Revolution when he became king of the French, and therefore they were understood by some as being republican symbols. The symbols of the coq gaulois and the tricoloured flag referred particularly to 1789. Article 67 from the new “Charter of 1830” stated: “La France reprend ses couleurs. A l’avenir, il ne sera plus porté d’autre cocarde que la cocarde tricolore.”350 By stating that France “regains” its colours, Article 67 indicates that France is regaining the colours that were used during the first revolution. Rémi Dalisson points out that “cette nouvelle date [1830] devait s’imposer par un langage original bâtit empiriquement autour des images et de son hérités de la Révolution française.”351 Dalisson also problematises the government’s role in choosing its symbols when planning the celebrations for the July Monarchy, which were called the “Fête des journées de Juillet”. The government wanted to reintroduce the principles of the 1789 Revolution without repelling the monarchists, while at the same time not scaring or promising too much to the republicans, and finally also satisfying the liberal Orléanists.352 References to the 1789 Revolution could both attract and repulse the liberals and the monarchists. In other words, there were many elements to consider. Maurice Agulhon also argues that:

Il est superflu d’insister sur le côté retour à 89, tant il est évidant. Le remplacement d’une dynastie hostile à la Révolution par un monarque qui avait accepté de bon cœur 1789 et même 1792 […] le rétablissement du drapeau tricolore, l’érection d’un monument commémoratif place

350 Constitutional Charter of 14 August 1830, Article 67. 351 Dalisson, Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur, 67. 352 Dalisson, Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur, 65.

127

de la Bastille, comme pour honorer les vainqueurs du 14 Juillet en même temps que ceux des Trois Glorieuses – ce sont des symboles assez clairs.353

I agree with Agulhon’s statement and I will further show how this “retour à 89” is visible in the caricatures from the 1830s. The caricatures from La Caricature and La Charge, although at opposite ends of the political spectrum, used the same revolutionary “language” of symbols and images to create a connection between 1789 and 1830.

4.2 THE TWO REVOLUTIONS: 1789 AND 1830

Several politicians from the July Monarchy were, even before the July Revolution, concerned with writing about 1789. Adolphe Thiers, is perhaps the most prominent example of this, as between 1823 and 1824 he published four volumes on the Revolution called Histoire de la Révolution française. Thiers was appointed Minister of Internal Affairs in 1832 and President of the Council of Ministers in 1836. The historian and journalist François-Auguste-Marie Mignet, who was Director of the Archives at the Foreign Office under the July Monarchy and, I must remind, one of the founders of the newspaper Le National together with Thiers, also published a book on the Revolution, also called Histoire de la Révolution française (1824). Thiers and Mignet, who were both historians and had political power, therefore had influential roles in how the 1789 Revolution was understood in their time – but also in how the 1830 Revolution should be understood. They also expressed a need, and a determination, for a coming revolution – a new and better revolution, especially according to Mignet.354 Thiers and Mignet represented the 19th century historiography of the Revolution that is called the “école fatalise”.355 This “école fataliste” believed that that the revolutions arose as “une conclusion logique d’une evolution parfaitement intelligible.” This “école” is said to have

353 Maurice Agulhon, “1830 dans l’histoire du XIXè siècle français”, Romantisme, Volume 28-29 (1980): 18. www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5340 (accessed 26 May 2016) 354 Yvonne Knibiehler, “Une révolution ‘nécessaire’: Thiers, Mignet et l'école fataliste”, Romantisme, Mille huit cent trente, 28–29 (1980), 279–288 www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5355 355 Knibiehler, “Une révolution ‘nécessaire’”, 279.

128 been a major influence on ideas about revolution in the 19th century and therefore on the ideas that contributed to the 1830 Revolution.356 There are several references to historical writings on the Revolution of 1830, but also the 1789 Revolution, in the advertisements of both La Charge and La Caricature. The advertisements were published at the end of the paper, and often took the form of small recommendations to the reader about the different works that had been published. In La Charge, these were usually published under the title “Annonces. Ouvrages de haute littérature.” I believe that this illustrates the journals’ awareness of what was being written about the past and the present, albeit in conflicting ways. One of these recommendations found in La Charge was a book titled Dangers de la situation actuelle de la France. Aux hommes sincères de tous les partis by A. Maurize.357 The book expresses first and foremost anti- republican ideas and criticises the republican movement for having, since 1789, “accéléré rapidement le mouvement de la décadence sociale.”358 Thus, there were also historians who expressed concern with how the republicans used the 1789 revolution in the early 1830s and that argued that the Revolution had gone “too far”. Thus the concept of revolution became especially significant after 1789. I will argue that, by using the past and especially the Revolution, the caricaturists I am analysing were also saying something about how they interpreted the representation of the concept of revolution. Both the Orléanists and the opposition had an idea about what the 1789 Revolution meant to them, and what it represented in relation to their specific political point of view. What I want to demonstrate in this chapter is how the concept of revolution was understood by caricaturists during the July Monarchy, which is particularly important since the journals I am discussing were created shortly after the 1830 Revolution (La Caricature the same year and La Charge only two years after that). This is the reason why I believe it is interesting to use both La Caricature, as an oppositional and more republican-friendly journal, and La Charge as a constitutional monarchical journal, to illustrate the difference in interpretations of the Revolution – and to an extent, interpretations of republicanism.

356 Knibiehler, “Une révolution ‘nécessaire’”, 283. 357 The recommendation was published in La Charge on 13 January 1833. 358 A. Maurize, Dangers de la situation actuelle de la France. Aux hommes sincères de tous les partis, (Paris: d’Everat, 1832), 59.

129

Historians began to write about the 1789 Revolution as a historical object even during the Revolution itself, yet this became especially popular from the July Monarchy onwards.359 Many historical works were written on the Revolution during the 1830s, mirroring the caricaturists’ usage and interest in it. This tendency shows that there was a general need among people at the time to understand their own revolution, which many – even Louis-Philippe – saw as an extension of the first revolution. Kerr comments on this belief that the Revolution of 1830 was a continuation of 1789:

In the euphoria which followed, the people of Paris believed that they were reliving the glorious days of 1789; the July Revolution revivified the concept of the sovereignty of the people and widened the political world by encouraging classes previously excluded from the political process to reassert a claim to political influence.360

Since the second revolution was so close to the first, even some of the actors of 1789, like La Fayette, played an important part in the 1830 Revolution. 1789 was their immediate reference point. It is not an overstatement to claim that this was a period where the notion of revolution was on everybody’s mind. The third revolution in 1848 occurred, after all, only 18 years after the July Revolution and less than 60 years after the first revolution. The concept of revolution was present both as a distant souvenir and as a description of people’s present state and future. Koselleck argues that what “was novel about Marx […] was his conception of the repetition represented by the actual revolutions of 1830 and 1848 as merely a caricature of the great French Revolution.”361 Yet, the importance of the 1789 Revolution during the July Revolution and the July Monarchy also shows an awareness of the first revolution’s symbolic meaning, and La Caricature’s play on Louis-Philippe’s symbols suggests that they were critical of the July Monarchy’s use of the Revolution.

359 John Burrow, A History of Histories. Epics, Chronicles, Romances and Inquiries from Herodotus and Thucydides to the Twentieth Century, (London: Penguin Books, 2009), 388. 360 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 146. 361 Koselleck, Futures past, 54. 130

4.3 LA CARICATURE AND “LIBERTÉ”

As mentioned in the chapter on emblems, the Republic and the press were frequently depicted as women in La Caricature, and they were usually called “Liberté”. Maurice Aghulon argues that “Liberté” was one of the most important ideas for the liberals of 1830 and was linked to the revolution of 1789: “la Liberté est l’élément essential de la Révolution de 1789, elle en fut très tôt le symbole, voire la déesse, et, bien sûr, le maître-mot. Être liberal et reprendre la voie de 1789, c’est tout un.”362 Baecque also argues that the caricaturists in during the 19th century were influenced by the revolutionary caricatures: “de Daumier à Gill, les esquisses révolutionaires ne seront jamais oubliées.”363 “Liberté” became part of the journal’s imagery narrative to express the July Monarchy’s failures. Eugène Delacroix’s famous painting from 1831, called Le 28 juillet or La liberté guidant le people, was created as a comment on the July Revolution, as a depiction of the Revolution (illustration 24). The painting shows a woman who is supposed to represent “Liberté” and three male figures: a little Parisian street boy364, a labourer and a student or bourgeois, among other people. The portrayal of “Liberté” resembles the later portrayal of the Republic as a woman: the figure called Marianne, which, as I have explained earlier, is to this day one of the most important republican symbols in France. Although Marianne was created later in the 19th century, the portrayal of the Republic and the republican symbol “Liberté” as a woman have some clear similarities to the Marianne figure. As we can see in this painting, “Liberté” in Delacroix’s painting is similar to the portrayal of “Liberté” in the caricatures published in La Caricature and Le Charivari.

362 Agulhon, “1830 dans l’histoire du XIXè siècle français”, 18. 363 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 45. 364 Which some interpret as an early version of the famous character “Gavroche” in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, who became a synonym for the street children of Paris. The portrayal of the “gamin de Paris” will be explored in the next chapter. 131

24. Delacroix 1831

Representing France or the Republic in a certain way can arguably be seen as a way of saying that this is what the people want as the ideal state. This, I will argue, can be seen in the representations of France and the Republic as a woman in caricatures and paintings during the July Monarchy. Whether she is supposed to represent the monarchic France or the republican France, the woman incarnates the ideal state and its virtues. The most popular way of representing France and the Republic has been through a woman. The woman’s utility is often as an abstract symbol for the country and the state. La Caricature thus often referred to the woman called “Liberté”. The journal mentions, for instance, Louis-Philippe as having “divorced” from “Liberté”: “[…] Une femme brune, que tu as épousée en juillet et avec la qu’elle tu veux divorcer te causera bien du désagrément.”365

365 La Caricature, 19 January 1832. 132

This is a comment on Louis-Philippe’s promises after the July Revolution, since Philipon and his staff criticised the king for having betrayed the supporters of the Revolution. It also suggests that his divorce from “Liberté” is likely to cause him some problems – perhaps a premonition of the many struggles Louis-Philippe would face during his reign? Philipon’s disappointment with the July Monarchy is expressed even more clearly on 26 May 1831: “Les doctrinaires ont fait avorter notre belle révolution. Les journées de juillet ne sont plus qu’une farce dont le peuple a fait les frais. Le peuple est joué. Les promesses de juillet ont été une cruelle mystification.”366 This sentiment was shared by many republicans, as this quote from a young man named M. Gallois from the trial of La Société des Amis du Peuple in 1832, mentioned in the introduction, demonstrates: “elle [the Société] voulait que cette révolution se fît, non comme l’année précédente, pour quelques personnes, mais pour le peuple ; car une révolution pour le peuple, c’est ce qu’il fallait, c’est ce qu’il faut encore.” The young republican man thus argues that there is a need for a new revolution, a revolution for the people. In some instances, La Caricature’s articles and caricatures compare the 1830 Revolution to the one in 1789. A caricature from 27 January 1831 by Decamps called “Jugement de Françoise Liberté” depicts “Françoise Liberté” being publicly punished (illustration 25). The text explaining the caricature describes the woman as having an “éclatante beauté”. She is standing, apparently attached to a pole, surrounded by men, some who are cheering and others who are looking away. The title of the caricature suggests that this is her judgment, and that she is about to be punished for her crimes. A man next to “Françoise Liberté” is holding a metal object, which he is sticking into a little oven to heat it up. This suggests that the object is going to be used to torture the woman. The scene resembles a place of execution, but her punishment is not death. Her sentence is to be punished with “flétrissure”, or human branding, which consists of marking a person with a symbol or pattern by burning their skin with a hot iron. This practice inflicted pain, but also a permanent scar on the victim and therefore resulted in a lasting public humiliation. In French this practice has sometimes also been called “fleurdelysage”367 because

366 La Caricature, 26 May 1831. 367 Prostitutes and galley slaves (“galériens”) were punished with the infamy mark under the Ancien Régime.

133 the victim would often be marked with the royal symbol of the fleur-de-lis on their body. However, this was probably not the case during the July Monarchy, and the caricature says that “Liberté” is about to be marked with the letters “T. R.”, which stands for “timbre royal”. This punishment was in use until 1832, when it was abolished.368 The sign above her head tells us that she was born in 1790 and that she is being punished, or condemned, for the crimes she committed during the days of 27, 28 and 29 July 1830, referring to the July Revolution. The caricature thus references both the revolution in 1789 and the one in 1830. It suggests that the first revolution had birthed “Françoise Liberté” so that she could execute, or lead, the one in 1830. The text describes a dialogue between “Françoise Liberté” and the men next to her, in which she states that she was born in Paris in 1790, and that she usually resides at Sainte-Pélagie.369 The article, written by Philipon, is rather long, taking up more than a page of La Caricature. The king’s prosecutor, “M. de Lam…”, which stands for Charles-Malo de Lameth, is explaining “Françoise Liberté’s” crimes. He describes her as involving herself in the most infamous prostitution. The woman is accused of treason, of regicide, of parricide, infanticide and “deputicide”. The prosecutor describes her as so hideous that the public is shocked when he finishes his speech by proclaiming his adoration for the woman, and that he has always loved her. Lameth was a revolutionary in 1789, but became increasingly conservative around the beginning of the 19th century. As Kerr argues, “the speech which Philipon attributes to Lameth is a deft satire on the ambivalent attitude of parliamentary liberals to the boisterous liberty which had emerged during the Revolution.”370 “Liberté’s” defender is the liberal writer Benjamin Constant, the text explains. The context of the caricature was that the Chamber of Deputies had in December 1830 decided to impose a 30,000 franc “cautionnement” on political newspapers and “to maintain

Jeanine Chamond, Virginia Moreira, Frédérique Decocq, “Dénaturation carcérale. Pour une psychologie et une phénoménologie du corps en prison”, L'information psychiatrique, 90 (2014/8), 680. https://www.cairn.info/revue-l-information-psychiatrique-2014-8-page-673.htm 368 Michel Porret, “La cicatrice pénale. Doctrine, pratiques et critique de la marque d’infamie”, Edition de l’Association Paroles. ‘Sens-Dessous’, 10 (2012/1), 54. https://www.cairn.inforevue-sens-dessous-2012-1- page-47.htm (accessed 12 September 2019) 369 Sainte-Pélagie was a prison renowned for having incarcerated many prisoners from the first revolution, and was still active during the July Monarchy. 370 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 71. Kerr writes that the man in the caricature is Alexandre de Lameth, Charles-Malo de Lameth’s brother. However, Alexandre de Lameth died in 1829, so I believe that Kerr must have confused the two brothers.

134 the stamp duty on the periodical press”.371 The “stamp duty” is therefore symbolised through the branding of “Liberté”. Although the caricature’s message was to denounce this decision made by the deputies, it is interesting to note how “Liberté” is portrayed and what the caricature’s references are. It shows how badly “Liberté” is treated, under a government that promised so much during the Revolution.

25. La Caricature 27 January 1831

371 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 71. 135

La Caricature became increasingly interested in proving how the July Revolution had failed and turned its back on the people who had initiated it. Philipon was, as I have stated before, a supporter of the 1830 Revolution and was therefore hopeful of its outcome. It represented something that would, he believed, lead to a change in society: “After the July Revolution when the Charter was said to have become reality [verité] I was led to believe that the press would be free.”372 La Caricature’s imagery alludes to the Revolution and to republican references. The freedom of the press became the journal’s symbol for what the Revolution(s) should have accomplished, especially after the government started to censor caricatures. La Caricature’s critique of the government was therefore based on the disappointment that many of the supporters of the July Revolution felt after Louis-Philippe’s first year in power. La Caricature promoted a “Society for the freedom of the press” (“Association pour la liberté de la presse”) in 1832 through several of its issues. The Association was established to help finance the expenses for all the lawsuits against La Caricature, but also had as an objective to “defend the freedom of the press”. The journal referred to Article 11 of the Déclaration française des droits de l'homme et du citoyen from 1789 which said:

La libre communication des pensées et des opinions est un des droits les plus précieux de l'Homme: tout Citoyen peut donc parler, écrire, imprimer librement, sauf à répondre à l'abus de cette liberté dans les cas déterminés par la Loi.373

Like many others that were in opposition to the July Monarchy, this dream was crushed early on in the 1830s. La Caricature would then play a part in denouncing not only the politics of the July Monarchy, but also how Louis-Philippe’s supporters, through the July Revolution, had led the people into believing that society would change for the better. The outcome of the Revolution was not what the liberals or the republicans had fought for. La Caricature commented on this by stating that: “On dit que la revolution n’a pas porté de fruits. Et la poire?”374, which can be translated as “People say that the Revolution has not

372 La Caricature, 2 February 1832: “Après la révolution de juillet, quand la Charte fut devenue une vérité, j’eus le tort de croire que la presse allait être une liberté.” 373 Élysée, “Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme et du Citoyen de 1789”, elysee.fr, https://www.elysee.fr/la- presidence/la-declaration-des-droits-de-l-homme-et-du-citoyen (accessed 18 September 2019) 374 La Caricature, 19 January 1832. 136 produced any outcome. What about the pear?” It is the play on the expression “porté de fruit” (like the English expression “to bear fruit”), as in a result or outcome. The quote expresses bitterness and irony: the only somewhat positive outcome Philipon can see from the July Revolution is La Caricature’s critique of the king and the monarchy. The “porté de fruit” that the Revolution has caused is only a small consolation for the fact that Philipon and his associates had been led to believe that society would change for the better. However, La Caricature’s contributors also reproached those responsible for the first revolution’s turn of events in 1793, and they also made fun of the Terror and Robespierre. But it’s difficult to say clearly what La Caricature’s stance was on the first revolution, since the contributors had different points of view: some were radical republicans, others were more moderate – some were even supporters of a constitutional monarchy. Republicanism was of course diverse, and the distinction between the “liberals” and the republicans was not always clear during this period. La Fayette, who was a role model for many republicans and liberals, was a firm believer in a constitutional monarchy where “le roi règne, mais ne gouverne pas” – but this did not hinder him from criticising the king when he thought that the king’s politics had moved too far away from the July Revolution’s values and promises. Rémi Dalisson argues that the men who fought for the July Revolution did not agree on the significance of the “glorious days” (Les Trois Glorieuses). For some, like Dupont de l’Eure, Laffitte and Carrel, the Revolution marked

[l]e début d’un processus qui devait s’achever avec la République populaire, voire sociale, sur le modèle de 1792 et même de 1793–1794. Pour d’autres, comme Guizot ou Casimir Perrier, les Trois Glorieuses et le nouveau régime étaient au contraire l’ultime rempart contre la Révolution, rempart qui ne pouvait qu’être libéral et censitaire, dans la lignée des seuls principes de 1789 et des Droits de l’Homme qui excluaient la République.375

The liberal “family” was divided in its understanding of the revolutionary heritage, but, as Dalisson point out, the outcome of the July Revolution demonstrated that “everybody” agreed on reintegrating 1789 and its principles into the national memory, even though the question of a new Republic could re-emerge at any moment.376

375 Dalisson, Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur, 63. 376 Dalisson, Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur, 63. 137

For others however, the Revolution was the manifestation of anarchy, of chaos and violence. This is La Charge’s general interpretation of the first revolution, and especially of how events unfolded after 1793. La Charge’s analysis was that society was being corrupted by republican ideas.

4.4 “QUATRE-VINGT-TREIZOMANIE”

Although Louis-Philippe expressed support for the 1789 Revolution and the July Revolution, the regime’s affinity with the idea of revolution changed after 1832, which I discussed in the introductory chapter. This year marked the insurrection, the June Rebellion on 5 and 6 of June. As I pointed out in the introduction, the insurrection was led primarily by anti-monarchist republicans who were attempting to overthrow the July Monarchy. This was also the year La Charge was established, which, as I have argued earlier, was probably related to the increasing fear of republicans during 1832.377 La Charge published its first issue in October, only four months after the insurrection. I therefore argue that La Charge mirrors the government’s change in politics in general, but particularly in regard to how the government reacted to the republican movement – starting with a sympathetic, or at least somewhat inclusive, attitude towards the republicans in 1830, to fearing them after the events of 1832. The caricature of the “Poiricide”, which I wrote about in the introductory chapter, was a clear reaction to the turn of events in 1832, and the attempted assassination of the king on November 19, only reinforced what La Charge’s editor Bellair had already witnessed with the insurrection. The violence of the two days of the insurrection was quickly compared to the turn of events during the first revolution – namely, the Terror that started in 1793. The pro- governmental Journal des Débats also compared the June Rebellion to the Terror: “Quelques hommes ont opposé le drapeau du pillage au drapeau de la royauté nouvelle, le bonnet rouge à

377 Amy Wiese Forbes’s The Satiric Decade and David S. Kerr’s Caricature and Political Culture both study thoroughly the political situation surrounding the use of satire and caricature and its relation to the republican movement during the July Monarchy.

138 l’étendard tricolore ; ils ont évoqué contre un pouvoir constitutionnel et modéré, strictement renfermé dans les limites des lois, les souvenirs sanglans et les exemples d’une journée de la Terreur.”378 1832 is therefore often compared to the year 1793 and the revolutionary Terror, both in the articles and the caricatures in La Charge. The date of 21 January 1793, when the king was executed, is often emphasised in the journal as the day the Revolution showed its true colors. Philippe-Égalité, Louis-Philippe’s father, had supported the decision to execute the king, and La Charge wrote about Louis-Philippe’s involvement in the revolutionary wars, which I will come back to in the next chapter. The articles emphasise that he was “fighting for France and for freedom”, as “opposed to the other branch [Bourbon]”. The reasons why Louis-Philippe fought in those wars are not clear from La Charge’s articles, which don’t elaborate much on the reasons why he was a supporter of the Revolution, other than saying that he was a patriot fighting for France and freedom, thus reinforcing his position as the opposite of King Charles X. However, La Charge’s journalists still condemned the events of 1793 in their caricatures and articles. For the publicist, these events demonstrated what republicans were capable of doing and reinforced his belief that they could never be trusted, as they would always turn to violence, no matter what. There are several examples of how La Charge’s caricaturist(s) perceived the republican movement. One of them can be found in a caricature from 21 October 1832, which I have referred to earlier in the chapter on emblems (illustration 12). It shows a man that is supposed to represent a Legitimist, who is carrying a republican man. The republican is in turn carrying a giant Phrygian cap towards a woman personifying France. To understand that the men are supposed to represent respectively a Legitimist and a republican, one has to be familiar with how La Charge’s caricaturist had chosen to portray the political groups through the use of symbols. The Legitimist is shown with typical Ancien Régime clothes. On his sword and on his cap are drawn three fleurs-de-lis, the symbol of the Ancien Régime, which, I must reiterate, Louis-Philippe had discarded as an official monarchic symbol. The republican is wearing “popular” clothes, and he is the one holding the Phrygian cap – the most recognisable symbol of the republicans.

378 Journal des débats, 7 June 1832. 139

On the front of the cap, the dates 1793 and 183X (which could be interpreted as denoting 1832, although the “X” could also imply a future unknown date when 1793 could happen once more) are inscribed. La Charge had already established in its previous caricatures and articles a theory it had about a conspiracy between the Legitimists and the republicans: according to La Charge, they were conspiring to bring down the king by joining forces and imitating the events of the Terror of 1793. In the description of the caricature of the Legitimist and the republican, the caricaturist states that there exist different forms of juste milieu, and that this is an example on one of them. What he means by this is that Louis-Philippe’s government was accused of being a juste milieu (a term which was used pejoratively), but here the caricaturist of La Charge claims that there are more dangerous forms of juste milieu: namely the one between the republicans and the Legitimists. The caricaturist is trying to appropriate the term juste milieu to give it another, conflicting meaning. One person was used by La Charge as the front figure of the Terror, and that was Robespierre. The articles in La Charge display an obsession with Robespierre, who in them becomes the personification of what went wrong with the first revolution. By the mere mention of the name Robespierre, La Charge seemed to anticipate an immediate reaction from its readers. La Charge’s readers would know immediately what was meant by naming him. Robespierre was the incarnation of the typical radical republican: the republican who lacks morals and restraint. In a description of a caricature called “A tant par tête” from 25 November 1832 (illustration 26), La Charge’s journalist writes about a fictional restaurant where the restaurateur (a play on the Restoration period) talks about having seen many “different restorations”: from the Consulat (of 1799, that overthrew the Directoire) who restored public order (ordre public) “on the debris of anarchism”, to “Liberté, dont on ne parlait guère dans tout ce chaos, se restaurer enfin aux dépens de l’Absolutisme”379 (meaning that the July Monarchy restored freedom from the absolute regime). Yet, he goes on to say that “ce que vous n’avez pas vu depuis quarante ans, et ce que je prétends vous faire voir tout à l’heure, c’est l’Anarchie se restaurant encore aux dépens de la Liberté.”

379 La Charge, 25 November 1832. 140

In the image we can see two men in front of the restaurant. The one on the left is the voice of the article. He claims that his waiter (the man on the right) and his cook have “appris le métier sous M. de Robespierre, le plus fin cuisinier que j’ai jamais connu.” His waiter is holding a guillotine, which tells us that this is what they have learned from Robespierre. The article ends with the “restaurateur” saying: “Profitez de l’instant; nous savons par experience que cela ne dure guère; le bon temps de 93 l’a bien prouvé, mais peut-être serons-nous plus heureux aujourd’hui.” The heads hanging next to the sign above the door suggests that they were guillotined upon entering the restaurant. The restaurateur is dressed as a Legitimist, judging by his hairstyle (a white wig) and pants. The guillotine, however, suggests that the restaurant has also been inspired by the republican movement. Inside, we can see two men sitting in the restaurant. The one on the left looks like a Legitimist and the one on the right wears a Phrygian cap. Perhaps this suggests that the Legitimist and republican are conspiring?

16. La Charge 25 November 1832

141

The anti-republican and anti-revolutionary arguments are already present in the first issue of La Charge from 7 October 1832, where Bellair argues in an article that:

Nous savons tous ce que c’est qu’un républicain. On a pu l’observer en liberté, depuis le 21 janvier d’une des plus belle année républicaines, jusqu’au 1er vendémiaire an XIV, commencement d’une des plus belles tyrannies du monde, et depuis la canicule de 1830, jusqu’à l’équinoxe nébuleux de 1832.380

The article concludes with this phrase: “[…] le républicain gobe-mouche [a popular term in the 1830s] attend la république, comme les Juifs attendent leur Messie qui ne viendra pas.”381 When the author of the article writes “21 January” he presumes that the reader understands that he means the execution of the king in 1793, and from “the caricature of 1830” one would likewise understand that he means the pear caricature of Louis-Philippe. In an article titled “La quatre-vingt-treizomanie”,382 La Charge’s journalist describes a “disease” that has infected many men: “Pour ceux qui en sont atteints, quatre-vingt-treize est le seul chiffre, la seule année du monde; c’est l’époque modèle.” The title of the article is named after this “disease”, a disease that, for the ones who are infected by it, causes them to understand the world only through the number 93: “Rayez quatre-vingt-treize de l’histoire, et l’histoire sera vide.” It is further stated that the language of “93” is not usually French, and that they have learned their language through the Père Duchesne. Jacques-René Hébert’s (1757– 1794) Père Duchesne was a politically radical newspaper during the Revolution of 1789. The fictive character Père Duchesne was used to call for the execution of the enemies of the Republic, which explains La Charge’s reference to the newspaper in this text. The article goes on to explain that the “93s” dreamed of sharing the goods, and that “on les partageait même assez lestement, à l’aide d’une machine qui fonctionnait régulièrement sur la place de la Révolution.”383 The definition of the disease of “ninety-three” resembles the way La Charge referred to the group of men they called “bousingot”,384 or the “rioters” as they were also called,385

380 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 381 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 382 La Charge, 15 December 1833. 383 La Charge, 15 December 1833. 384 Although, and as I will discuss in the next chapter, the term “bousingot” was first used by Le Figaro. 385 “Émeutiers”.

142 which I will come back to in the next chapter. La Charge published a song and a caricature on the “bousingot” (illustration 27).386 The caricature and song were published on the same page. The description of the song tells us that its melody is from 1793. The text that accompanies the image informs us that all political parties have, during the last 40 years, had special songs that characterise and represent them. The article lists the Marseillaise, the Réveil du Peuple,387 the Varsovienne388 and the Parisienne.389 Why is there no Bousingote, the article asks. Because, the article states, the Bousingote song has been missed by the rioters. The song is addressed to the Republic, which the article explains is the song’s sacred object. Thus, its composer uses the melody of a song which the article dates from 1793, called Femme voulez-vous éprouver, si vous êtes encore sensible.390 One of the verses is: “‘La mort ou la fraternité’, | Ornera de nouveau ton temple; | Déesse de la Liberté.” The bust in the caricature is supposed to portray “Liberté”, with her Phrygian cap on her head. The date 1793 is written underneath the bust, which links the “bousingots” to the Terror, as if they were a continuation of the republicans who had led the reign of terror in 93.

386 La Charge, 22 September 1833. 387 Reveil du Peuple was written by Souriguières and composed by Pierre Gaveaux in 1795. The song denounced the acts of violence during the Revolution. The song was opposed to the Marseillaise. 388 Varsovienne, which was also called “Warszawianka 1831 roku” in Polish and “The Song of Warsaw 1831” in English, was written by Casimir François Delavigne. Delavigne was inspired by the November Uprising of 1830–1831, which is also called the Polish-Russian War. 389 Parisienne was composed in 1830, right after the July Revolution, by Casimir Delavigne (who also wrote the Varsovienne). It became the national hymn during Louis-Philippe’s reign. The first verse begins with a tribute to the people: “Peuple Francais, peuple de braves, | La Liberté rouvre ses bras; | On nous disait: soyez esclaves! | Nous avons dit: soyons soldats! | Soudain Paris, dans sa mémoire | A retrouvé son cri de gloire: | En avant, marchons | Contre les canons; | À travers le fer, le feu des bataillons, | Courons à la victoire.” It also pays tribute to the “soldat du drapeau tricolore” and emphasises that “les trois couleurs sont revenus”. 390 Femme voulez-vous eprouver was a popular song, composed by Jean-Pierre Solié in 1796. 143

27. La Charge 22 September 1833

4.5 THE OLD REPUBLIC

La Charge’s journalists and caricaturists often make a point about the Republic being old, or the idea of a republic being old: it’s “passé” – it belongs to the past and should be forgotten. The caricature that I presented in the chapter on symbols and emblems, called “La Belle et la Bête” compared two statues of women (illustration 13). One was a statue representing

144

“Liberté” while the other represented the Republic. The goal with this caricature was to show the difference between them, and to show why the personification of the Republic was ugly and stupid, not only physically but also on the inside. This depiction of a woman as the Republic continued through several articles and images. In a caricature from 17 March 1833 called “La vieille république”391, the Republic is personified as an old woman who is putting on some make-up, perhaps to pretend to be as young and alluring as she was during the first revolution (illustration 28). The text describing the image recalls:

Qu’elle était belle, alors qu’elle était jeune et fraiche, alors qu’elle avait la tête dans les rues et les pieds dans le sang […] C’était le temps des illusions. Mais, quand on la vit se prostituer à tout venant, au plus hardi ou au plus féroce; quand on la vit se repaître de chair humaine, et à défauts de cadavres étrangers, se jeter sur sa propre famille, ou se déchirer elle-même, afin de boire son propre sang, on la trouva bien horrible. Elle fut chassée, honnie, et l’on fut long-temps sans en entendre parler. Pourtant, elle n’était pas morte ; elle est sortie de son galetas, et a essayé de reparaître dans le monde.

To hide what she really looks like she puts on make-up: “elle se farde, elle se couvre les joues de sanguines, c’est un rouge animal”. Yet, the make-up does not help, as she is still ugly and old: “elle n’en deviant que plus horrible”. She tries to convince herself that her ugliness is not due to how she looks, but to “today’s mirrors” which “make her uglier than she really is”. She is looking at herself in the mirror, which shows her the ugly reflection of her face. The comment of this caricature was probably to tell us that if the republicans could see themselves in the mirror, they would also see how ugly their ideas and morals were. Yet, the message implied in the caricature is that the Republic is in denial about how she really looks, just as republicans are in denial about how they really are. The republicans don’t acknowledge their “ugliness”. The gun on the table is, I believe, a reference to the weapon that was used during the attempted assassination of the king. The conclusion of the article states that the Republic is scared of her own reflection.

391 La Charge, 17 March 1833. 145

28. La Charge 17 March 1833

The week before this caricature was published, an article in La Charge stated that the Republic was “fat”.392 It says that republicans claim that the future is “gros de révolutions”393, which the author of the article comments “ce qui ne laisse pas que d’être fort rassurant.” What I find interesting is that La Charge repeats in several articles and caricatures that the Republic is dead, that another revolution will never come and that republican ideas are finished, but at the same time the message from the journalists to their readers is that they should fear the republicans and what they might accomplish in the future. This contradiction is perhaps not so

392 La Charge, 10 March 1833: “La république est grosse; ceci est une hyperbole. C’est ainsi que des écrivains habiles ont dit et répété que l’avenir était gros de révolutions, ce qui ne laisse pas que d’être fort rassurant.” 393 The French expression “être gros de” means “to want something” or to “desire something”. This was a popular expression from the 16th and 17th centuries. 146 strange, since the journal’s goal was to oppose the opposition. Any arguments would thus be used to criticise their “opponents”. La Charge also used the personification of a woman to portray concepts. The caricature “Belle et la Bête” portrays La Charge’s own take on “Liberté”. In a caricature called “Souhaits du Républico-Carliste” from 6 January 1833, a woman who represents an allegory of France is depicted (illustration 29). The image shows a man named the “Républico-Carliste”, which plays on the conspiracy theory that the republicans and the Carlists/Legitimists were working together to overthrow the July Monarchy. The scene is a parody of the Epiphany, which is celebrated on 6 January, when the three kings visit the new-born Jesus bearing gifts. The man is trying to bribe France, who does not seem to accept the present. France is holding a book entitled “Charte 1830”, and is turning her head away from the man, as if she was avoiding him. The present is labelled “Bonbon arsenisé”394, meaning a poisoned candy. In the background we can see a clock decorated with Louis-Philippe’s coq gaulois, which suggests that France is in favour of the July Monarchy.

394 This is a play on the words “bonbon anisé”, which mean “anise tasting candy”, and which here become “arsenic candy”. 147

29. La Charge 6 January 1833

I will now compare this caricature with another one published in La Charge the same year. Titled “La Galope Républicaine”, it commented on the allegory of the Republic as a woman (illustration 30). The text that accompanies the image warns the readers, ironically, not to confuse the “G” for an “S”, as this would create the word “salope” (whore): “this is not our intention”, the text specifies. The Republic is shown dancing in the arms of a Legitimist. This was a way of making fun of the symbol of the Republic, as well as a critique of the republicans’ politics and their alleged conspiracy with the Legitimists, thus continuing the theme of the previous caricature. Yet, by comparing these two caricatures, we can see more clearly the message of each image. The woman in the first caricature is portraying France, who supports the July Monarchy. She turns her head away from the republican-Legitimist, insinuating that she has integrity. Her posture and her clothes indicate to the reader that this woman can be trusted. The “republican whore”, however, dances openly in the arms of a Legitimist, devoid of any shame.

148

30. La Charge 31 March 1833

The Republic is depicted in other caricatures as well. One caricature, called “Le virus républicain” or “La république nous appelle”, from 10 February 1833, shows the Republic greeting some men in her room (illustration 31). She is wearing a dress that has some details reminiscent of a court jester, such as small bells attached to the fabric. The dates 1793, 1833 and 18** are written on the fabric. The last date, 18**, suggests another 1793 or 1833 in the future. The article related to the caricature tells us that the men are not supposed to be any specific men, but “everybody”, from generals and lawyers to grocers, students, and more. They are all attracted to her, but what they don’t see are the men piled up behind her: “Elle assassin ses amans[sic] successivement […] aux uns la guillotine, aux autres le poignard, à ceux-ci la fusillade ou la mitraillade: c’est toujours la même chose pour changer.”395 The conclusion of the text is that the men have died from the republican virus, which is a phrase that often comes up in articles and notes in La Charge. The rhetoric that was used in diagnosing society, in

395 La Charge, 10 February 1833. 149 suggesting what diseases were infecting society, is something I will come back to in a later chapter.

31. La Charge 10 February 1833

4.6 CONCLUSION

Associtating the first revolution and the one in 1830 is understandable: only 40 years had passed between the start of the first and the start of the second. Many of the leaders from the first revolution also played a part in the second, and the ones that were born during or after the Revolution were still close to the event – it was not something that had happened in a distant time. The whole of French society was still marked by the events of the 1790s. The republicans felt unsatisfied in a constitutional monarchy such as the July Monarchy. This unsatisfaction can be illustrated by an article written in Le National on December 3, 1832, in which Armand Carrel writes: “Qu’est-ce qu’une monarchie constitutionnelle? Est-ce un trône entouré 150 d’institutions républicaines, ou d’institutions populaires, ou seulement d’institutions constitutionnelles? Ces trois définitions sont à peu près aussi fausses l’une que l’autre; il serait ridicule de vouloir disputer entre elles.” Yet the republicans were still proving to be a force to be reckoned with, which the government seemed to fear. This fear is also reflected in La Charge. The outcome of the insurrection and the attempted assassination of the king in 1832 seem to have affected La Charge’s notion of the Revolution, and it became almost impossible to separate the ideas of the Revolution from the violence that evoked the Terror in 1793. La Charge’s mission was to express another voice in this period when the press was heavily dominated by the opposition. La Charge appealed to morality and integrity by portraying its enemies as unethical, and even as dangerous – especially the satirical press. In hindsight, given the Revolution of 1848, La Charge’s simultaneous fear and dismissal of a new revolution could be understood as the journal’s analysis of the period, when an anticipated (and feared) new, republican and radical revolution was approaching. The caricature “La République nous appelle” mentioned earlier does suggest a “new 93 or 1833” in the future. The disappointment that the republicans felt during the July Monarchy was unavoidable, which is perhaps something La Charge’s editor also understood. The use of physical violence is, from La Charge’s point of view, one of the main objections against the republican movement and against the concept of revolution that they attribute to the republicans. La Charge’s editor and caricaturist condemned the violence used during the first revolution, and the Terror in particular. They also criticised the republicans in the 1830s of mirroring that violence – especially after the insurrection in 1832. For them, republicanism was synonymous with violence and chaos. This physical violence was, according to La Charge, mirrored in the opposition’s caricatures and could therefore be almost as dangerous. La Caricature on the other hand used imagery from the Revolution to denounce the politics of the July Monarchy, especially how the government treated the press. Thus, the allegory of “Liberté” was used in La Caricature as a symbolic victim of the constitutional monarchy. She is the personification of the treason and disappointment that the supporters of the July Revolution experienced.

151

What I have demonstrated in this chapter is how the Revolution, both in 1789 and 1830, was represented in La Charge and La Caricature. My analysis is that the journals’ portrayal and comments on the two revolutions reflect their ideologies. La Charge, as a supporter of the constitutional monarchy, preferred to use imagery that referenced the constitutional year of 1792 and reflect their virtues and ideals. La Caricature however, had placed itself as the opposition to the government, and therefore to Louis-Philippe’s take on a constitutional monarchy. The symbols and references both journals used mirrored these ideas on the Revolution. This also tells us how the Revolution was perceived on the different political spectrums. Louis-Philippe’s embrace of imagery and symbolism from the Revolution proved to be problematic for both journals. For instance, how could one attack the republicans without attacking the idea of the first revolution? Louis-Philippe and his government were responsible for creating a connection between the July Monarchy and republicanism by using what was understood by many as republican symbols and references. As La Charge was created as a way of defending the king, it could therefore not distance itself totally from the revolutionary heritage, as I will furthermore show in the next chapter. The republicans were the problem, not the legacy of 1789, according to La Charge. La Charge thus focused on the Terror to build its critique of the opposition and the republicans. The constitutional years between 1789 and 1792 were at the centre of La Charge’s and the government’s rhetoric against the republicans and for the constitutional monarchy. The republicans were rioters; they were the “bousingots” who created disruptions. This battle over the legacy of the Revolution, however, also implied a battle over “the people” of France. Next, then, I will discuss how “the people” were represented in the caricatures of the time.

152

5. “POUR L’ÉMEUTE, S’IL VOUS PLAIT”:

REPRESENTATIONS OF “LE PEUPLE”

Following the two revolutions, it became important to re-establish who had led the revolutions, who the newly crowned king was going to reign over and who was going to benefit from the new monarchy. In the previous chapter I discussed briefly how the caricatures from La Caricature and La Charge linked the concept of revolution and the concept of republicanism to “the people”. Since before the Revolution, it had been important to define who “the people” were and how they could be defined, including in caricatures, which Antoine de Baecque discusses in Caricature révolutionnaire. Baecque argues that the peasant became an important symbol as the “paysan révolté” during the 1789 Revolution.396 In other words, portraying “the people” has been a central theme in the French caricature tradition. The representation of who “the people” are varies, as I will discuss in this chapter. In the previous chapter I demonstrated how the concept of revolution was discussed and fought over in the caricatures of La Charge and La Caricature. The Revolution was often justified through the use of “the people” to claim authority over the definition of the word. When the 1830 Revolution occurred, it was very much argued that the participants acted for the “will of the people”, and that the Revolution was wanted by “the people”. French historian Jules Michelet (1798–1874) described the Revolution as the people’s manifestation of a desire for freedom, and a will to change society. “It dismayed Michelet that in 1789, France’s revolutionary potential could not be fulfilled, a mission whose mantle was subsequently taken up by the generations of 1830 and 1848.”397 In this chapter, I will explore how La Charge and La Caricature represented “the people”, both in articles and in caricatures. I will argue that republican pressure on the government can help to explain this urge to define who “the people” were. Therefore, there

396 Baecque, Caricatures révolutionnaires, 71. 397 Monika Baár, “Heretics into National Heroes: Jules Michelet’s Joan of Arc and František Palacký’s John Hus”, Nationalizing the Past. Historians as Nation Builders in Modern Europe, edited by Stefan Berger and Chris Lorenz, (London: Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2010), 133. 153 was a difference in how “the people” were defined and portrayed, depending on political motivations. Everybody could claim to be talking to the people’s interests, to be the people or to know what the people wanted, even the king. This can be seen clearly in the caricatures and satire from the early 1830s, as Nathalie Jakobowicz demonstrates in 1830. Le Peuple de Paris, on the representation of “the people” in Paris during the July Revolution.398 Jakobowicz focuses primarily on the oppositional representation of “the people” in the period. I will therefore demonstrate how La Charge presents another point of view than the opposition, which I will argue can tell us something different about the notion of “the people”. “The people” could either mean the whole population of France or only a part of it, depending on who you asked. This chapter will approach the contrasting and conflicting notions of “the people” in the caricatures in La Charge and La Caricature. The struggle to represent “the people” and to talk on their behalf is a sort of speech act, I will argue. As Pierre Rosanvallon’s Le peuple introuvable’s title indicates, the notion of “the people” is perhaps impossible to find, because it cannot be defined. I will also connect this notion of “the people” to the so-called science of physiognomy, which I introduced in Chapter 2. As I established, physiognomy in France became especially popular at the beginning of the 19th century and was linked to the popularisation of caricatures. First, however, I will show how even the king wished to be perceived as a monarch who was “close to the people”, as “the Citizen King”. I will demonstrate that this was also the “strategy” La Charge chose as a way to defend Louis-Philippe’s honour against La Caricature’s attack on him. I will then explore how the definition of “the people” was fought over and used by the two journals. Finally, I will demonstrate how both La Charge and La Caricature represented what they perceived as being “the people” and what this can tell us about their political intentions.

398 Nathalie Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris. Révolution et représentations sociales, (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2009).

154

5.1 LE ROI-CITOYEN

Louis-Philippe was a popular man before becoming France’s king, even among republicans, because his father had been a strong supporter of the Revolution and because he himself had joined the Jacobin Club.399 Louis-Philippe was also well read, especially in the philosophy of Enlightenment. From 1782 he had a governess, called Mme de Genlis, who is said to have been inspired by the pedagogy of Rousseau’s Émile, ou De l'éducation (1762), which was claimed to have influenced the way she educated the king.400 However, de Genlis was criticised for having too much influence on Louis-Philippe and was later blamed for his membership of the Jacobin Club. During the Restoration period, there were rumours of Louis-Philippe socialising in the underprivileged parts of Paris where he was helping the sick,401 which the ruling king did not appreciate. Louis-Philippe had also openly sided with the opposition during the Bourbon Restoration and this resulted in him being regarded as a threat to King Charles X. After the July Revolution, Louis-Philippe proclaimed himself as “King of the French” in 1830. As mentioned before, the title “King of the French” was the same title that Louis XVI was forced to take during the Revolution. This displayed Louis-Philippe’s willingness to meet some of the republicans’ demands and to present his more “liberal” side. The appropriation of the title was probably due in part to his own liberal convictions, but it can also be regarded as a strategy to gain the liberals’ (the “united left’s”) support. According to Antonetti, although Louis-Philippe had indeed fought six months in the Republican army, it did not go further than presenting himself as “dévoué à la cause”, suggesting that is was more a way to display his affiliation rather than a personal conviction.402 By embodying a liberal politics and showing that he was close to the people, he would avoid too much political opposition from the republicans. This is particularly noticeable in a biography of Louis-Philippe published in 1830. This book of 22 pages, called Le Roi citoyen, ou Le choix national, was published when Louis- Philippe was declared King of the French. The title in itself tells us immediately what the

399 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 166. 400 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 105. 401 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 169. 402 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 577. 155 author wanted to highlight in this text: that Louis-Philippe was the Citizen-King and that he had been chosen by the nation; he was the national choice. The biography is a recounting of Louis-Philippe’s life and how “people-oriented” he has always been. The book emphasises his credentials as “the Citizen King”, as he was known. The biography’s writer is not named, and the text is written like a panegyric, praising Louis-Philippe’s background and dedication to his country. However, the text can also be interpreted as a way of binding the king to his promises. By underlining just how much the king was concerned with France’s citizens before becoming king, it also forced him to maintain this attitude after he was in power. The biography explains how the king had come to power and claims that the “nation had given itself” Louis-Philippe as king (by popular sovereignty), in a “spontaneous and unanimous movement” (meaning the July Revolution).403 It also states that the king had been a subject of public admiration for a long time because of his constant devotion to the people’s right to freedom.404 Louis-Philippe’s only wish was the “people’s happiness”, as the biography states several times. Antonetti comments on this aspect of Louis-Philippe, suggesting that the king was not actually as “people-friendly” as he wished to be perceived: “Certes, il affiche extérieurement des manières simples, mais est-il vraiment disposé à “tenir sa couronne du people”, lui le prince entiché de sa naissance jusqu’à la morgue et qui, dépris de ses exaltations juvéniles, a toujours traité le people de “bête féroce” dans sa correspondance intime?”405 Thus, the seemingly people-oriented duc d’Orléans may have been more of a facade. The biography also emphasises Louis-Philippe’s admiration of the revolutionaries and the fact that he had applauded the Revolution in 1789 with “great enthusiasm”. The emphasis on his awareness of human rights and of freedom of the press is an important part of the biography. For instance, it recounts the story of how Louis-Philippe once helped a journalist to get out of jail.406 The fact that Louis-Philippe spoke to the people, to show that he was close to them and that he was a part of them, created a clear break between himself and his predecessor Charles X.

403 Le Roi citoyen, ou Le choix national. Biographie populaire de Louis-Philippe, 3. 404 Le Roi citoyen, ou Le choix national. Biographie populaire de Louis-Philippe, 3. 405 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 577. 406 Le Roi citoyen, ou Le choix national. Biographie populaire de Louis-Philippe, 6. 156

There is a similar account in La Charge, in the issues of 6 and 13 January 1833, that follows some of the same narrative as the biography. On 6 January, the author of the articles writes that Louis-Philippe is on his way to Valenciennes with the French army. This event, he explains, is the reason why he wants to write about the three previous times Louis-Philippe had been in Valenciennes, where the revolutionary wars were taking place. This was where Louis- Philippe “had always found himself for the cause of the patrie”, he writes. The article further explains that Louis-Philippe, when he was only 19 years old, participated in the wars in 1792 and 1793 and that he for the most part stayed in Valenciennes. The article underlines the fact that the king (then prince) lived “modestly” and had a hard and active life to prepare himself for the wars that were coming.407 The author describes Louis- Philippe as eager to fight for France and for freedom, and states that he “montra un courage et une presence d’esprit au-dessus de son âge.” The article furthermore emphasises the fact that Louis-Philippe had a close relationship to his troops and that he was nicknamed “prince français”, in opposition to the princes “from other branches” (meaning Bourbon) who were “already in the pay of the foreigners”. The article also includes what the author claims is a letter written by one of the soldiers in Louis-Philippe’s armé, in which the soldier describes the French prince’s patriotism as refined. Lastly, the article states that Louis-Philippe was ranked lieutenant-général and that he was offered another posting in Strasbourg, but declined the offer because he wanted to stay in the “active army”. The article published in the following issue, on 13 January, is a continuation of the first one. It is explained at the beginning of the article that the author has chosen not to cover the years between 1792 and 1795, claiming that Louis-Philippe’s noble military conduct was “trop connu et trop apprécié pour que nous le suivions dans les details de sa noble et belle conduite miliaire.” Therefore, the article jumps to the year 1814, when Louis-Philippe came back to France after having been abroad for several years. “On sait avec quelle satisfaction il fut accueilli, et combine ses vertus privées lui firent d’admirateurs et d’amis.”408 The prince received information of Napoléon’s arrival, and later that Napoléon had entered Paris. He thus went back to Valenciennes, where he “relived with joy” his previous time there when he was

407 La Charge, 6 January 1833. 408 La Charge, 13 January 1833. 157 only 19 years old. The author emphasises the fact that Louis-Philippe’s visit to Valenciennes would not have been in his family’s interest, but that he wished to make himself useful for his patrie, presenting this choice as a sort of sacrifice for the French nation. Louis-Philippe then allegedly instructed everyone to “de se rallier autour de la Charte constitutionnelle, et surtout de n’admettre sous aucun prétexte dans nos places les troupes étrangères.” 409 Louis-Philippe was once again forced to live abroad, but came back for the third time to Valenciennes in 1825. The article ends with some thoughts about Louis-Philippe’s return to Valenciennes in 1833: “Un quatrième séjour de Louis-Philippe, à Valenciennes, destine à le voir toujours dans des occasions glorieuses, laissera vives impressions dans le cœur des habitans [sic] qui revoient avec enthousiasme le duc d’Orléans, devenu leur roi-citoyen.”410 What this retelling of Louis-Philippe’s military past in La Charge tells us is that the author of the article wanted to defend the king’s honour, which had been attacked through La Caricature’s continuous and damaging crusade against him. As I see it, these articles can be considered as a response to La Caricature’s disrespect of the king. The article is consistent with La Charge’s overall wish to portray Louis-Philippe as an honourable head of state who cared for his citizens. The opposition, on the contrary, wanted to point out how the July Monarchy treated the French population. Many of the caricatures in La Caricature were a critique of how distant the July Monarchy government was from the people, its citizens, and criticised the way the government restricted the freedom of the French population. Hence, La Caricature’s critiques of Louis-Philippe and his government consisted of making fun of his physique, which the pear caricatures are merely one example of. The journal’s popularity increased during the July Monarchy, especially when it was reprimanded by the government. It clearly marked itself as a forceful opposition, which La Caricature itself commented on in 1831, stating that “Nos coups ont frappé fort et juste.”411 But the government’s reaction also proved how tough the government could be with its citizens, and how Louis-Philippe did not show tolerance for the freedom of the press.

409 La Charge, 13 January 1833. 410 La Charge, 13 January 1833: “Louis-Philippe’s fourth visit to Valenciennes, destined as he is to always see it on glorious occasions, will leave some lively impressions in the hearts of the inhabitants who will see the Duke of Orléans again, this time as the Citizen-King.” 411 La Caricature, 28 April 1831: “our blows have hit hard and just.” 158

La Caricature wanted to show its readers how Louis-Philippe did not incarnate the Citizen-King and argued that his politics were hostile to the citizens of France. La Charge, on the other hand, demonstrated both in its caricatures, but also in articles, how Louis-Philippe rightfully should be called the Citizen-King. Before I progress to the presence of “the people” in caricatures, I want to show how they were represented in literature and in the press at the beginning of the 19th century and how the rise of the new working class influenced the idea of “the people”. This has been done before by other historians, for example Nathalie Jakobowicz, who argues in 1830: Le Peuple de Paris that the 1830 Revolution has often been overlooked by historians because it has been perceived as more bourgeois and less popular than 1848 or the Commune.412 Jakobowicz offers a perspective on how the popular classes represented themselves and how this can be interpreted, a perspective which for a long time had been ignored by historians of 19th-century France.413

5.2 MICHELET’S LE PEUPLE

In 1846 Jules Michelet published a book titled Le Peuple, which in his own words was “plus qu’un livre; c’est moi-même”, since he claimed that he identified himself with “the people”414, “car, moi aussi, mon ami, j’ai travaillé de mes mains.”415 In the book’s introduction, written to his friend Edgar Quinet (1803–1875), he provides a description of “the people” as the “le vrai nom de l’homme modern, celui de travailleur”.416 He states that he comes from an industrial background and that Quinet comes from a military background, thus representing “les deux faces modernes du Peuple.” The people, Michelet states, know to sacrifice things in life because they are virtuous.417 He then presents two types of people: the peasant and the city

412 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 10. 413 Jakobowicz mentions that the first ones to show an interest in the people during the 1830 Revolution were British and American historians, such as Edward Thompson and David H. Pinkney. Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 11. 414 Jules Michelet, Le Peuple, 5th edition, (Paris: Calmann Lévy, 1877), I. 415 Michelet, Le Peuple, II. 416 Michelet, Le Peuple, II. 417 Michelet, Le Peuple, III.

159 labourer. The first two chapters in the first part of Le Peuple are called “Servitudes du paysan” and “Servitudes de l’ouvrier dépendant des machines”. The peasant is in servitude to everyone, even the labourer: “Le dernier ouvrier mange du pain blanc; mais celui qui fait venir le blé, ne le mange que noir”, he writes.418 Michelet claims that the peasant hates and envies the city workers because he sees them as “bourgeois”.419 However, for Michelet, the peasant is one of the ideal representative of France’s population: “La terre de France appartient à quinze ou vingt millions de paysans qui la cultivent”, because the peasant loves only his soil420; the peasant is married to the soil, Michelet asserts.421 As Arthur Mitzman notes, “for Michelet, as for many other mid- nineteenth-century radical thinkers, the peasantry was the backbone of the nation.”422 Michelet also states in Le Peuple that to be able to understand the people, “Il faut s’en aller dans les champs et causer avec un paysan.”423 The word he uses is “causer”, which is a slang word for talking, meaning that you have to go to the field and chat with the peasants in order to understand the people. This is a way of showing that he knows how to talk to the people, that he is familiar with their lingo, and consequently that he is close to them. This is a strategy that La Caricature, but also La Charge, often chose when portraying “the people” – showing them as not only physically different, but also distinctive in the way they talked, as I will demonstrate later. The peasant is a different type of “people” from the city labourer in Michelet’s Le Peuple. He is more idealised and represents in a way the “original” and “natural” worker. He is disconnected from the reality of city life, but embodies the person who is France outside of the capital. In the republican caricatures, however, the city worker is much more present than the peasant, which is probably because La Caricature’s audience was mainly Parisian. How could Parisians relate to the peasants and their way of life? Furthermore, the peasant was

418 Michelet, Le Peuple, 23. 419 Michelet, Le Peuple, 26. 420 Michelet, Le Peuple, 3. 421 Michelet, Le Peuple, 22. 422 Arthur Mitzman, Michelet, Historian. Rebirth and Romanticism in Nineteenth-Century France, (Chelsea, Michigan: Yale University Press, 1990), 78. 423 Michelet, Le Peuple, IV.

160 associated with being a landowner, which was not altogether compatible with the republican’s view of the working man. Mitzman states about Michelet’s Le Peuple that “Michelet presents us in the compass of sixty-eight pages [the first part of Le Peuple] with an excellent analysis of the class and economic structure of the July Monarchy.”424 I agree with this statement, and I believe that it can furthermore give us insight in class consciousness which is present also in the caricatures from the period. “During the years immediately following the July Revolution of 1830, French workers emerged as an important social force and manifested the first real signs of collective consciousness”, historian Bernard H. Moss argues.425 Even though industrialisation was at an early stage, the consequences of mechanisation had already made an impact on the work situation, especially in Paris. Unemployment was due, partially, to the use of technical innovations.426 According to Moss, this made the working class, and the artisans in the cities, more conscious of their condition and created a movement of union. Several workers’ newspapers were established in 1830, such as L’Artisan, journal de la classe ouvrière, Journal des ouvriers and Le Peuple, journal général des ouvriers to name a few.427 They were specialised newspapers, covering matters that concerned the working class, and fighting for their cause. The republicans were also increasingly aware of the growing consciousness of the working class, according to Moss: “Thus, without abandoning their traditional proprietary analysis, Republicans, eager to appeal to these workers, began to shift the focus of their program from ‘the people’ to the workers and from proprietary to capitalist exploitation.”428 The Saint-Simonian thinker Jean Reynaud published in 1832 a manifest called “De la nécessité d’une représenation spéciale des prolétaires”, in which he argued that French society was heavily divided by class between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie, and that there was an

424 Mitzman, Michelet, Historian. Rebirth and Romanticism in Nineteenth-Century France, 77. 425 Bernard H. Moss, “Parisian Workers and the Origins of Republican Socialism, 1830–1833”, 1830 in France, edited by John M. Merriman (New York: New Viewpoints, 1975), 203. 426 Moss, “Parisian Workers and the Origins of Republican Socialism, 1830–1833”, 205. 427 Moss, “Parisian Workers and the Origins of Republican Socialism, 1830–1833”, 205. 428 Moss, “Parisian Workers and the Origins of Republican Socialism, 1830–1833”, 208.

161 urgent need for the workers to be able to nominate their own deputies. The working class ought to be represented, Reynaud claimed.429 The French politician and philosopher Pierre-Joseph Proudhon (1809–1865) held some of the same points of view, stating that the people needed to find a “voice”. In Solution du problème social (1849) he states that the people had shown themselves “in all their glory” during the revolutions of 1789 and 1830, but that “la révolution faite, le Peuple se tait”.430 The ones who displayed disappointment after the July Revolution believed that there were still many causes to rally over, especially for the lower classes of French society. The working class’s engagement showed a consciousness of their own situation as a group, and especially as representing what politicians called “le peuple”. Newspapers such as Le Peuple demonstrated a need for the people to have their own voice and not have politicians talk on their behalf. This self-consciousness about their own role as “the people” gave a new dimension and pressure to the definition of the word.

5.3 “LE PEUPLE”

Paintings of the storming of the Bastille also showed people as a mass; as what historian Pierre Rosanvallon calls a “forest of people”.431 This is, according to Rosanvallon, a typical representation of “the people” in republican paintings during and after the Revolution. Yet, I will argue that there is a difference when it comes to the portrayal of “the people” in satirical images. In the caricatures of La Caricature, “the people” are represented through a specific man, called Jean-Peuple, whom I will come back to. Thus, although Rosanvallon is right in claiming that “the people” were often depicted as an indistinct mass, the caricaturists created a type of man that could represent “the people” as a singular person. As I mentioned in the introduction, Baecque notes that the revolutionary caricatures also created “types”, such as the

429 Rosanvallon, Le peuple introuvable, 87. 430 Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, Solution du problème social (Paris: Éditeur Pilhes, 1848), 52. 431 Rosanvallon, Le peuple introuvable, 35.

162

“aristocrat”,432 similar to the way in which the caricaturists during the July Monarchy created types. Since 1789, the notion of a people-unity – the idea of the people as a whole – had been reinforced in the republican movement. 433 “The people” became the emblem and the name for the collectivity that caused the Revolution. Article 7 of the 1793 Constitution proclaimed that the “sovereign people was the universality of the French citizen”. The same belief was also claimed in connection with the 1830 Revolution: that the July Revolution was a result of the French citizen’s desire for change; the nation’s choice, as Louis-Philippe’s biography stated. Yet, who were these French citizens? Who represented “the people”? In Diderot and d’Alembert’s Encyclopédie, ou Dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers, “the people” is described as a “nom collectif difficile à définir, parce qu'on s'en forme des idées différentes dans les divers lieux, dans les divers temps, et selon la nature des gouvernements.”434 Words like “citizen”, “nation”, “population” and even “Frenchmen” are synonymous with “people”, and it can be difficult to differentiate these terms from each other. In this chapter, I will therefore sometimes use terms other than “people”. In the newspaper called Le Peuple, mentioned earlier, in the issue of 30 September 1830, the editor gives a definition of “the people”:

Catineau, dans son Dictionnaire de la langue française, définit ainsi le mot Peuple pris dans l’acception que nous lui donnons: la partie la plus laborieuse, la moins riche et la plus utile d’une nation; nous ne pouvons donc, ce nous semble, choisir un titre qui convînt davantage à l’objet de notre entreprise, à un Journal général des Ouvriers. Catineau aurait pu ajouter que cette classe utile et laborieuse est aussi la plus nombreuse, la plus forte; nous tâcherons de prouver qu’elle n’est pas la moins raisonnable.435

To him, the working class represents the essence of the people, which was why the title Le Peuple included the subtitle “journal général des ouvriers, rédigé par eux-mêmes”.436 The working class is, according to the editor, not only the most laborious, the most useful and the poorest, as stated in the dictionary; it is also the largest and strongest class in France. Moreover, the editor declares, men have claimed to fight for the people, but have instead used them as

432 Baecque, La caricature révolutionnaire, 40. 433 Rosanvallon, Le peuple introuvable, 39. 434 Louis de Jaucourt, “Peuple”, L’Encyclopédie, Volume 12, (Paris: André le Breton, Michel-Antoine David, Laurent Durand and Antoine-Claude Briasson, 1751), 475-477. 435 Le Peuple, 30 September 1830. 436 “The labourers’ general newspaper, written by themselves.” 163 instruments for “their ambitious views”. The time had therefore come for the people to show that they could think and reason and speak for themselves, which was Le Peuple’s goal: “Pour s’entendre, pour discuter ses idées, ses opinions, il faut un moyen de communication. Nous croyons avoir trouvé ce moyen dans la publication d’un journal entièrement consacré aux ouvriers.”437 But Le Peuple’s definition of “the people” would not have been accepted by the majority. The working class defined “the people” as themselves, as the class that worked. Who had the right definition of “the people”? The word “people”, although it can be used to designate humans in general, arguably turns into a sort of contested concept when it is used in a political context. A word like “people” does not in itself explain who it refers to, or how you can recognise “the people”, where they come from or what they represent. The word’s description and meaning varies depending on who is talking. The ones using the word “people,” especially in a political context, tend to claim that they have the correct definition of it, as in the examples I gave earlier. In the period before 1830 and the years following, “the people” was defined in different manners in dictionaries. One definition included “everybody”, from the bourgeoisie to the peasants and the workers, while another definition only included the working class (peasants, craftsmen, artisans and labourers) as the true definition of the people.438 This demonstrates what Koselleck calls essentially contested concepts, since the definitions varied according to which political party the person using the concept belonged to, or what kind of social background they had. The problematic of “who represents the people” is also mirrored in the caricatures of this period, and I will argue that there is a difference between how the people are represented in the oppositional caricatures (La Caricature) and the Orléanist ones (La Charge). Jakobowicz argues that there was an absence of iconographic representations of the popular classes after July 1830,439 which according to her is due to the difficulty that contemporaries had in

437 Le Peuple, 30 September 1830. 438 Nicos Hadjinicolaou, “‘La liberté guidant le peuple’ de Delacroix devant son premier public”, Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 28 (1979), 12. https://www.persee.fr/doc/arss_0335- 5322_1979_num_28_1_2637 439 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 243.

164 identifying themselves with the people. Yet, she argues, the “Le seul domaine où se retrouvent des figures populaires est celui de la caricature.”440 She focuses mainly on oppositional caricaturists who contributed to La Caricature and Le Charivari, such as Daumier, Traviès and Grandville. As she indicates, both Grandville and Daumier had actively taken part in the 1830 Revolution, which is reflected in their images.441 I will argue that using La Charge as a contrasting voice can help to nuance the narrative on the representation of the people in caricatures.

5.4 “LE PEUPLE” IN LA CARICATURE

The growing working-class consciousness, especially in the Parisian context, is present in the caricatures, mainly in a positive manner in La Caricature and often in a negative way in La Charge. Jakobowicz argues that before the 1830 Revolution, especially during the Restoration, the popular classes were often portrayed in an unflattering manner in caricatures, such as Traviès’ La Tableaux de Paris from 1825 and La Galerie des Épicuriens from 1828: “La figure qui domine est […] celle d’un être ivre, incapable de se contrôler.”442 The caricaturists wanted to show the misery that existed in the streets of Paris. So although they portrayed the people in an unflattering manner, they also showed some empathy with them. Jakobowicz states that there were two ways of portraying “the people”: either as drunk, violent and as bad husbands, or as righteous, proud, courageous, suffering and hard-working.443 I will argue that this distinction can be found in the portrayal of the people in La Charge and La Caricature. I will first start with Philipon’s journal.

In an issue from November 1831, Charles Philipon talks directly to the workers, as if they were La Caricature’s audience: “Vous tous, ouvriers sans travail, maçons, charpentiers, forgerons, bijoutier, ferblantiers, serruriers etc.”444 The “ouvrier” (labourer) then becomes synonymous

440 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 244. 441 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 250. 442 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 53–54. 443 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 60. 444 La Caricature, 10 November 1831. 165 with “the people”. In October 1831 La Caricature published a caricature which is not named, but which bears the subtext: “Peuple affranchi, dont le bonheur commence”. The caricature shows the people’s misery being caused by (as explained further in the text) the economic inequalities in society triggered by the politics of the July Monarchy. Philipon often claimed in La Caricature that he was on the people’s side and that the journal fought for their rights. The labourer is far more present in the oppositional caricatures than in the monarchical ones, and often represents “the people”, who according to La Caricature were the losers in the July Revolution. La Caricature frequently depicts the workers as poor and dirty, and as the opposition to the “bourgeoisie”. The worker is even given a name in some of the caricatures, as I mentioned earlier: Jean-Peuple.445

445 La Caricature, 12 January 1832. 166

32. La Caricature 12 January 1832

This caricature (illustration 32), printed on 12 January 1832, depicts the worker “Jean-Peuple”. It shows Louis-Philippe and his ministers forcing Jean-Peuple to carry bags containing, among other things, taxes and other governmental papers, while shouting at him: “Carry, you animal!” It is a clear criticism of the government’s treatment of the people, who must carry all of society’s burden on their backs. What this caricature also tells us is that “the people”, represented through “Jean-Peuple”, is not the whole population of France, but only a part of it. “The people” is consequently the underprivileged part of France in La Caricature. The concept of the people became more important and more contested after the July Revolution, and the question was: who was behind the Revolution? For many, it was the people, and by that they meant the working class. La Caricature often accused the government

167 of appropriating the Revolution and not crediting the “real players” in it. According to those who held this view, the Revolution’s “real players” were the working class, but only the bourgeoisie actually benefitted from it.446 La Caricature depicted the bourgeoisie’s “hatred” of the working class in their caricatures by opposing them to the people, as is clear in two caricatures from their 6th issue, on 9 December 1830: “Soirée du peuple” and “Soirée du grand Monde” (illustrations 33 and 34). The bourgeois (or “grand Monde”, as they are called here) are presented as the “anti- people”, and are in total opposition to the “peuple”: they are dressed differently, they talk differently, and they behave differently. As depicted in the two caricatures, even their social gatherings are in distinct opposition, because they come from two different worlds.

446 Hadjinicolaou, “‘La liberté guidant le peuple’ de Delacroix devant son premier public”, 14. 168

33. La Caricature 9 December 1830

169

34. La Caricature 9 December 1830

A note, published on 7 July 1831, commenting on the seizing of La Caricature, because of a caricature portraying Louis-Philippe as a mason, was published in 1831. The note comments on how absurd it is that the government could take offence of what the journalist calls a “lèze- étiquette”:447 “[…] qu’en 1831, le vêtement d’une classe laborieuse, utile, honorable, soit une injure à celui qu’on en affuble, c’est, il faut en covenir, une étrange application de la consideration populaire, de légalité devant la loi!”448 The comment on the worker’s clothes being perceived as an insult is interesting, but I will come back to this later in the chapter. I

447 A play on the word “lèse-majesté”, which the government used as a reason to seize caricatures that were deemed to be attacks against the king. 448 La Caricature, 7 July 1831. 170 will now demonstrate how La Charge chose to portray France’s citizens and how it differed from the oppositional press.

5.5 “LE PEUPLE” IN LA CHARGE

A letter from a reader (who signs himself “Un patriote,449 qui ne se nomme pas, crainte d’accident”) was published in La Charge on 11 November 1832. The reader writes that he had read in one of La Charge’s previous issues an article in which La Charge’s journalist listed what he considered to be “toutes les classes de vrais Français”. The reader notes that the list could include basically all the citizens of France. Hence, he asks the editor of La Charge to be more precise and to explain who he considers to be “les vrais amis de la France, les vrais patriotes.” La Charge’s editor starts his response by insinuating that the reader is a republican, suggesting that he should have added the titles “franc républicain” (a play on the words franc- maçon (freemason) and republican) or “admirateur de Marat” to his signature. He then lists the characteristics of those whom he considers to be “real Frenchmen”:

Selon moi, et, heureusement selon d’autres, le vrai Français, est précisément le contraire de tous ceux que nous avons passés en revue dans l’article dont il s’agit. […] Le vrai Français serait : Celui qui sait sacrifier son opinion particulière à la tranquillité et à la prospérité publiques ; Celui qui ne tue pas ses compatriotes derrière les buissons de la Vendée, pour le compte de Charles X ; Celui qui ne tue pas ses compatriotes dans les rues de Paris, pour le compte de la république.450

These were all characteristics of how La Charge described the republican movement, but also to some degree the Legitimists. The editor continues by stating that “Le vrai Français” are the ones who, during governmental crises, are fighting for the country’s wellbeing and not for a party’s advantage. The constitutional government, he states, was created to satisfy the “free men”, who are enlightened and wise. In conclusion, he states that the “real Frenchman” would

449 “Patriot” was a denomination that the republicans used about themselves. 450 La Charge, 11 November 1832. 171

“sacrifice himself for the patrie and would sooner, and with more courage and enthusiasm, fight against foreigners than against his fellow citizens”. This does not give us a clearer definition of the concept of the people; however, it does indicate who La Charge’s editor considered to be good citizens, and perhaps who he thought were La Charge’s readers (or at least, the ideal reader). To deepen my analysis of La Charge’s understanding and representation of the concept of “the people”, I will make use of some examples from some of the journal’s caricatures depicting the people. The caricature titled “Les Vers blancs à tête rouge”, published in La Charge in 1833, depicts a gardener working (illustration 35). The text explaining the caricature describes the man as both a gardener and a peasant. He is shown stamping on some big worms and is saying “Ah! Rascal, you want my fruits”. The fact that the worms are described as white with red heads indicates that they are a metaphor for the red republicans and the white Legitimists (Carlists). As I have already established in Chapter 3, the colour white was traditionally associated with the Ancien Régime, and in this context with the Legitimist movement. The colour red on the other hand was associated with the republicans, and especially with the red Phrygian cap, which had become even more important as a republican symbol during the insurrection of 1832.

172

35. La Charge 15 September 1833

The gardener in this caricature, I argue, represents what La Charge saw as “the people”, because he does not represent a person of power or of any political party. He is just a working man, working in the garden. The man is protecting his fruits from worms that are a combination of Legitimists and republicans. This can possibly be understood as a metaphor for defending the “Pear King” (“you want my fruits”) from the opposition’s attacks.

173

36. La Charge 28 July 1833

This caricature depicts a republican man, holding the newspaper Le National in his left hand, taking advantage of a farmer (illustration 36). The republican man is trying to persuade the farmer to support the “loi agraire”, a land reform. The republican says to the farmer: “La loi agraire, vois-tu, citoyen, c’est le partage des propriétés de ceux qu’en a, avec ceux qu’en a pas. Un supposé, t’as un champ, j’en ai pas, t’as un mouchoir, j’en ai pas non plus. Eh ben! nous partageons….. J’prends tout, et le reste est pour toi.” The caricature plays on the republicans’ dislike of landowners, which I explained earlier in the section on Michelet’s Le Peuple. La Charge portrays the farmer as the honourable citizen, who owns land, and the republican man as someone who is trying to corrupt and take advantage of him. This scene is rather similar to a passage in Alphonse Pépin’s pro-governmental work called Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832, published in 1833. The book defends the politics of the juste milieu and Louis-Philippe. Pépin was accused in 1841, after publishing a new book, of being affiliated with the government, and it was even suggested that some parts of the work

174 could have been written by a “plume auguste”, meaning the king himself.451 Pépin responded to the accusations a few days later stating that he was not collaborating with anyone, and that “when I sign a book, I am the only one who has written it and it must not be suggested that anyone but me has written the book”.452 A passage in Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832 describes a scene where “un ami du peuple” mingles with some workers, telling them that if they are miserable because “c’est que vous n’avez pas de droits politiques; il vous faut des droits politiques” and that they should react.453 Pépin then explains that the “philanthropes” create riots that keep the workers from working and that they try to recruit the workers to their riots. Since the workers are repressed, Pépin continues, the “ami du peuple” exclaims that “la société est bien malade”. Pépin concludes that “Voilà par quel moyen on essaie de pervertir des âmes naïves et dépourvues des idées premières pour comprendre des notions qu’on pretend leur improviser.”454 Furthermore, he claims that the republicans are trying to convince the working class to overthrow the bourgeoisie, as the “tiers-état” did with the nobility during the first revolution. But, he asks, should not those who are considered “bourgeois” – the merchants, bankers, store owners and other small landowners – also be considered as workers in the same way that the proletarians are? He concludes by stating that the citizens of France should not be considered as equal, since “il y a dans la nature des êtres forts, faibles, bien faits, mal faits, spirituels, idiots, c’est-à-dire des inégalités.”455 The landowners, he asserts, assure maintenance of social order and of society, while the ones who own nothing and have nothing to lose, do not.456 The argument that the republicans are trying to influence the working class is also present in another caricature from La Charge called “Le brave paysan”, from 17 February 1833 (illustration 37). It depicts a peasant at home with his maid. A poster containing the lyrics of a republican song is hanging on the fireplace, and the man is wearing a Phrygian cap. This indicates that he supports the republicans. The article says that the man dreams of all the good

451 L'Ami de la religion et du Roi: journal ecclésiastique, politique et littéraire, 9 September 1841 (Paris: Imprimerie Bailly, Divry et Cie, 1841), 481. 452 L'Ami de la religion et du Roi, 14 September 1841, 518–520. 453 Alphonse Pépin, Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832, (Paris: Éditeur A. Mesnier, 1833), 261. 454 Pépin, Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832, 265. 455 Pépin, Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832, 267. 456 Pépin, Deux ans de règne, 1830–1832, 268.

175 things that will happen to him when the Republic is “placed on the throne”, such as eating “soupe à la graisse” and having “alouettes” falling all roasted from his fireplace. Yet, he does not see that instead of all these good things, he will have wars, barricades and despotism, and that “le pauvre paysan continuerait de labourer la terre d’autrui, de manger du pain noir tous les jours, et du lard aux fêtes carillonnées.”457 As I demonstrated earlier, Michelet also refers to ‘black bread’ when addressing the peasant’s situation, and to how it is different from the city worker who eats white bread.

37. La Charge 17 February 1833

These caricatures portray the working man as (somewhat) honourable, and as used, as taken advantage of by the republicans. In the text called “La Quatre-vingt-treizomanie”, mentioned

457 La Charge, 17 February 1833. 176 in the previous chapter, La Charge’s journalist accuses the “quatre-vingt-treizomanes”, meaning the republicans, of speaking on behalf of the people without having their support.

Le mot du peuple était alors dans toutes les bouches républicaines, on n’agissait que pour le peuple et par le peuple, les intérêts du peuple étaient la parole sacramentelle. Le quatre-vingt- treizomane d’aujourd’hui ne parle que peuple, que gouvernement du peuple, et par le peuple. Il y a même un journal qui s’intitule le Populaire. Il est inutile de dire que le véritable peuple songe fort peu au Populaire et à ceux qui s’occupent de lui.458

Notice how La Charge emphasises that the “véritable peuple” do not care about the republicans. This insinuates that the republicans do not speak for “the real people”, but rather for what they assume is the people. However, La Charge did not always use this rather harmless argument to criticise the republican movement. In many other caricatures and articles, the working class itself is depicted as the enemy.

5.6 THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE SAVAGE WORKING-CLASS MAN

In a caricature titled “Nous sommes Français, not’ pays avant tout”, which I have discussed earlier in chapter 3 (illustration 4), the republican man is portrayed as a working class man, or a man from the lower class. In the caricature, the man is on his way to kill “France” (portrayed as a woman) with a club in the shape of a Phrygian cap. The republican is dressed like a man from the working class and the way he talks is similar to how a person from a lower class would talk. He uses the abbreviation “not’ pays” instead of “notre pays”, which means that he does not speak French “correctly”.

458 La Charge, 15 December 1833. 177

38. Detail from La Charge 14 October 1832

The republican man is portrayed as an angry and dangerous person, as a dangerous proletarian, which was a common conception for many middle-class Parisians.459 For the bourgeoisie during the July Monarchy, the workers were perceived as an uncontrollable and dangerous crowd that “acted like savages camping in the Faubourgs in Paris”.460 The republican man is recognisable by his clothes, similar to how the working class was portrayed. He is seemingly the “manliest” of the men in the caricature; he is more muscular than the other men are. However, the caricaturist highlights the republican’s lack of restraint, his aggressiveness and violence. Portraying the working class the way La Charge did was not uncommon. At the beginning of the 19th century, it became important to classify the population, to find the sources of criminality and of deviant behaviours. Physiognomy was then used to identify deviant citizens by identifying certain physical attributes. This so-called science classified the population into groups and determined who were regarded as deviant citizens. The caricaturists

459 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 26. 460 Rosanvallon, Le peuple introuvable, 42. 178 were exposed to physiognomy, which combined well with the art of caricaturing men’s flaws and vices. Martial Guédron states that, “because of its inherent interaction between image and discourse, physiognomy allowed for a fusion, or rather confusion, between scientific and aesthetic judgment.”461 When the caricaturist insisted on certain physical traits, the goal was to suggest that a particular look, mannerism or attitude corresponded to a specific individual.462 Guédron argues that the period’s urban growth, whereby the big cities were populated by many “rootless” people, facilitated a sentiment of defiance and fear of the “Other” which are visible in the caricatures of the time.463 Consequently, the proletarian class, the working class, was often portrayed as savages. They were the deviant citizens who had to be classified, in order to identify who was a threat to the government, the king and society. Guédron states that the construction of the representation of the degenerate social class borrowed its criteria from racial anthropology, where the notion of the savage was well established. According to Guédron, it was believed that the social body functioned in a way like the human body, and that curing society’s problems could only be achieved through curing society’s individuals and vice versa.464 The bourgeois type would then be contrasted to the proletarian class, which was described and presented as helpless, uncivilised and, in some instances, savage: “individuals who had a rough manner of speaking and acting”.465 As La Charge’s caricature exemplifies, the republican man is not only recognisable by his physical traits, but also (and mainly) by the clothes he wears. This brings me back to the caricature of Louis-Philippe as a mason in La Caricature, which the government reacted to. Philipon’s answer to the government’s action was that they should not have reacted to the way Louis-Philippe was dressed, because the worker’s clothes should have been seen as honourable, and not as an insult to the king. The government’s argument was that they wanted to impose social order, and that entailed reprimanding dangerous behaviours. La Charge’s argument was similar, as the editor often expressed that the government’s reaction to and

461 Martial Guédron, “Physiognomonie de l’Autre: des caricatures de la nature à la ségrégation sociale”, Études françaises, 49 (2013/3), 15–31. https://id.erudit.org/iderudit/1021200ar 462 Guédron, “Physiognomonie de l’Autre”, 26. 463 Guédron, “Physiognomonie de l’Autre”, 20. 464 Guédron, “Physiognomonie de l’Autre”, 21. 465 Guédron, “Physiognomonie de l’Autre”, 26. 179 punishment of the republican movement was justified to maintain order. This explains why the lower classes are portrayed in an unflattering manner in La Charge.

39. La Charge 24 November 1833

On 24 November 1833, La Charge published a caricature showing two working-class men fighting each other (illustration 39). The descriptive text explains that “coalitions” of workers gathered together “instinctively” to perorate and drink wine in Paris, insinuating both their aggressiveness and their drunkenness (and thus laziness). The workers noticed that they were all missing something: the cobblers did not have hats, and the hatters did not have shoes. Likewise, the bakers did not have any culottes and the tailors had no bread. It became clear to “everybody” that if they lacked food and clothes, it was due to the fact that “chaque classe ouvrière faisait comme lui, discourait au lieu de travailler, et ne produisait rien.”466 And, as was natural for them, the article states, they blamed others instead of blaming themselves. The

466 La Charge, 24 November 1833.

180 article then describes the scene depicted in the caricature. A tailor attacked a baker, shouting “Ah! Ru n’veux plus m’faire du pain!” to which the baker answered: “Ah! Tu n’veux plus m’faire de culotte!”467 This started a fight among the workers. The wiser workers, however, left the scene because they understood that “qu’il valait mieux travailler que déraisonner sur l’égalité ou l’inégalité des conditions.” The morality of the caricature suggests that the workers are lazy, yet they expect wealth. Instead of working, they are busy talking about the conditions of equality and inequality, which the article seems to insinuate is the cause of their misery.

5.7 THE BOUSINGOT

40. La Charge 9 June 1833

467 La Charge, 24 November 1833.

181

A man lying in the street sleeping is depicted in a caricature from 1833 in La Charge (illustration 40).468 It quite clearly shows one of the poorer parts of Paris. On the wall behind the man, one can see the inscriptions “June 1832”469 and “Vive la République!” He is the lazy rioter, who, after having rioted all night long and vandalised the walls, sleeps instead of doing some honest and decent work. An article published on 31 March 1833, called “Pour l’émeute, s’il vous plaît”, explains that the rioters were often the “incurables” from 1793: “de ces braves gens qui vivraient plutôt sans pain que sans émeute.”470 They live only for the riots. As I mentioned in the previous chapter, La Charge used a term to describe the groups of men that they perceived as both dangerous and lazy: the word “bousingot”.471 La Charge was not the first journal to refer to the “bousingots”; Le Figaro had used the term before them. Originally, the word designated a sort of waxed hat, but became a nickname for a certain kind of man during the July Monarchy. In Le Figaro of 22 February 1832, several months before La Charge was created, a definition of the word is given: “Type né de l’émeute et de l’indépendance des coiffures, homme politique par la barbe, par la chemise et surtout par le chapeau; physionomie de cuir verni qui se promenait dans la capitale.”472 On 9 February 1832, Le Figaro explains who they considered to be “bousingots”: “Le bousingot ou chapeau ciré, existe ordinairement de dix-huit à vingt-trois ans; il a encore un an de droit à finir pour retourner dans son pays et changer d’opinion. Il reporte ordinairement le luxe absent de son costume et de ses manières, dans l’excroissance de la barbe et des favoris; il est tout cuir, poil, loutre et républicain.”473 In another article, Le Figaro’s journalist states that the “bousingots” claim to be “the people”, but insinuates that they are wrong.474 Fabrice Erre states that Le Figaro wanted to create an alternative to the pear caricature, like La Charge did with the “brioche”, and thus created a group that could represent the enemies of the government: the bousingots.475 Thus, Erre argues that Le Figaro invented the term “bousingot”.

468 La Charge, 9 June 1833. 469 A reference to the June Rebellion in 1832. 470 La Charge, 31 March 1833. 471 Also sometimes written “bouzingot”. 472 Le Figaro, 22 February 1832. 473 Le Figaro, 9 February 1832. 474 Le Figaro, 29 July 1832. 475 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789-1848, part II, 208.

182

Le Figaro, I must remind the reader, was originally an oppositional newspaper which changed editor and started to support the government in 1832, the same year as La Charge started to publish. It is therefore not unlikely that La Charge drew inspiration from Le Figaro, which could explain why the word “bousingot” is present in many issues of La Charge. The “bousingot” incarnates all the flaws that the opposition possessed: they were violent, radical, lazy and hostile. In a way, the “bousingot” is similar to the bourgeois figures in the oppositional press, Mayeux and Prudhomme.476 These figures were supposed to portray the bourgeoisie’s flaws and were popular in caricatures, in the theatre, in the press and in literature.477 The definition of the “bousingot” is as vague as the definition of “the people”, but La Charge’s definition of “bousingot” is almost identical to the one in Le Figaro:

[…] le bousingot, type né de l’émeute de l’indépendance des coiffures; homme politique par la barbe et par le chapeau; physionomie de cuir verni qui se promenait dans la capitale, comme un principe à deux pieds; opinion toujours hostile à la police et au savon.478

The “bousingot” is the equivalent of La Caricature’s “Jean-Peuple”, since both represent the same social class, though with opposite characteristics. “Jean-Peuple” in La Caricature represents the repressed but honest working man who is taken advantage of by the government. Although he has rough clothes, he has his pride and integrity. The “bousingot”, however, is the lazy, good-for-nothing and aggressive man. He is at the service of the republicans because he is easily persuaded, especially when it comes to violence.

5.8 CONCLUSION

As I and others have argued, the word “people” is imprecise and can be interpreted in many ways. Historically, it has often been used as a way to legitimise politics by saying that one could know what the core of society, “the people”, wanted and needed – as did both the

476 See Elizabeth K. Menon, The Complete Mayeux. Use and Abuse of a French Icon, (Berne: Peter Lang A.G., 1998) and Ségolène Le Men, “Les images sociales du corps”, Histoire du corps. De la Révolution à la Grande Guerre, dir. Alain Corbin (Paris: éditions du Seuil, 2005), 119–143 (on Mayeux, Prudhomme and Macaire). 477 Jakobowicz, 1830: Le Peuple de Paris, 53. 478 La Charge, 3 March 1833. 183 republicans and the monarchists during the July Monarchy. Rosanvallon argues that “the people” is, in a sense, “introuvable”, which he problematises especially in the context of the notion of democracy for the representative people and the “real” people: “Si la démocratie présuppose qu’il y a un sujet et que l’on peut appeler ‘peuple’ et que ce peuple est susceptible d’exprimer sa volonté, comment, alors, le définir et comment le reconnaître?”479 As I discussed earlier in this chapter, both La Caricature and La Charge defined, or tried to define, who “the people” were and how they could be represented. I have demonstrated how conflicted the notion of “the people” was at that time and how this became visible in the caricatures. Although scholars such as Jakobowicz have discussed the representation of “the people” in oppositional caricatures, I will argue that including the anti-oppositional caricatures from La Charge can demonstrate more clearly the conflict and the effects of the different understandings of “the people”. This conflict was not new during the 1830s, but it was arguably reinforced because of the rise of republicanism in this period and the growing working-class consciousness, which not only put pressure on Louis-Philippe’s reign but also on the political discourse. Additionally, the printing press helped to express voices that had not been heard before, such as the working class, although this was still quite limited in the 1830s. These journals claimed to be a mouthpiece for “the people”, although journals such as Le Peuple were directed towards the working class and not the whole population of France. The characteristic of the July Monarchy is that Louis-Philippe had to balance between the republican and Legitimist pressure and the constitutional monarchy. He did not want to turn his back on the 1789 Revolution, which he wanted to show that he admired, but he wasn’t a republican either. This is why the critique of the juste milieu became so important in this period, especially in the caricatures of the time. The opposition criticised the king for not taking a stand on his regime and what it entailed, and for turning his back on the Revolution of 1830. The Legitimists, on the other hand, criticised him for being a republican and a traitor to the monarchy. The republicans criticised the oppression of the press and of free speech, which had been a crucial motivation for the Revolution of 1830 that the republicans had participated in.

479 Rosanvallon, Le Peuple introuvable, 15. 184

Louis-Philippe was the self-proclaimed “Frenchmen’s king”: le roi des français, the king that was chosen by the people “for the people’s happiness”. His use of republican symbols and republican ideas was a new way of interpreting monarchic power and marked a rupture with the Ancien Régime, showing that monarchy could be compatible with republicanism to some extent. For the revolutionaries, the “masses” of people that were voicing their opinion had been understood as a show of strength, and as a “movement” (mouvement) that could change society. These masses were feared by the government and would become even more clearly defined with the Revolution of 1848, which was urged by the republicans but carried out by “the people” (i.e. the Parisian workers). As Pierre-Joseph Proudhon writes in Solution du problème social on the 1848 Revolution: “Et d’abord, qui a fait la Révolution? Quel en est le véritable auteur? Tout le monde l’a dit: C’est le Peuple.”480 As this chapter demonstrates, La Charge had some reservations and conflicting ideas about “the people”. La Charge claimed both that the people had chosen Louis-Philippe as a king and wanted the July Monarchy, but at the same time that they could be dangerous and taken advantage of by the republicans. The “rioters” were a threat to the king, which the attempted assassinations on Louis-Philippe proved. However, La Charge also accused journalists and caricaturists, not just republicans, of inciting this violence and disturbing the social order. Next, therefore, I will discuss how and why La Charge attacked the journalists and what this can tell us about how they perceived the public sphere during the early July Monarchy. How La Charge defined and represented “the people”, I will argue, can help us to understand who they thought should take part in the public sphere and who should not.

480 Proudhon, Solution du problème social, 6. 185

6. A VIRTUOUS INDIGNATION: CARICATURES

AND THE PARISIAN PUBLIC SPACES

La Charge’s editor Bellair described the journal’s battle against the opposition as “une vertueuse indignation”.481 This tells us that the editor argued that La Charge was on the “virtuous” side, and that it felt indignation towards the republicans and the opposition. He further explained that it was fighting against the opposition’s influence on the Parisian population, an influence that incited the people to act, to riot, against the government. As the previous chapter demonstrated, La Charge accused the oppositional press of provoking and having a bad effect on French society. In this chapter, I will explore what this can tell us about La Charge’s intervention in a debate about the public sphere and censorship. I will argue that caricatures were used in a battle over the definition of the press and the public sphere. What can this tell us about La Charge’s analysis of the medium of caricature itself, the press and the role of the public sphere in society more generally? This chapter will first focus on the caricature’s position in what we can call, with a broad and analytical term, the French public sphere in the early 1830s: how the caricature was perceived as a medium, how it was distributed and how it operated. As I will demonstrate, the caricature as a medium did not only communicate between the different journals and a reading public, but also with and within different public spaces.482 I intend to place La Charge in this context of print and visual communication in the public space. I will also analyse how the journal expressed its understanding and judgement of not only caricatures but also the role of journals, the press, and the public sphere as a whole. What did the journal want to communicate and achieve with its symbolic representations of the press, and who was its intended public? Furthermore, I will examine censorship of caricatures and the press, since a reform of the censorship laws was the approach the government took to counter the caricature in this

481 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 482 By “public sphere” I mean the political role that the satirical newspapers played in France at that time. I will in this chapter focus both on what I will call “public spaces” when I refer to Parisian city life, for example, and the “public sphere” when I refer to the printed press. I will use the term in a similar manner to how Daniel Bellingradt uses the term “urban space” in “The Early Modern City as a Resonating Box: Media, Public Opinion, and the Urban Space of the Holy Roman Empire, Cologne, and Hamburg ca. 1700”. 186 period. The reformed censorship laws took effect in 1835, but the laws did not emerge out of nowhere. The government became gradually more hostile towards the press, and especially towards satirical journals, from the beginning of the July Monarchy onwards. La Caricature and La Charivari had to conduct themselves accordingly and at the same time respond to the increasing hostility from the government. La Charge, being a satirical journal, also had to acknowledge the censorship from the state and at the same time justify it. How did the journal respond to censorship and the opposition’s critique of Louis-Philippe and his government?

6.1 THE PUBLIC SPHERE

As mentioned in the introductory chapter, illiteracy in the French population was high in the 1830s. Yet the printed press experienced growth and modernisation in the same period. As I have already expressed, La Charge is an example of this prosperity in the press industry in France, especially for the lithographic printing. However, the public sphere was more than just the printed press and lithographs. In his extremely influential work on the public sphere, The structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. An Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Soceity, translated into English in 1989, Jürgen Habermas famously described the emergence of the bourgeois public sphere in the eighteenth century. According to him,

The bourgeois public sphere may be conceived above all as the sphere of private people come together as a public; they soon claimed the public sphere regulated from above against the public authorities themselves, to engage them in a debate over the general rules governing relations in the basically privatized but publicly relevant sphere of commodity exchange and social labor. The medium of this political confrontation was peculiar and without historical precedent: people's public use of their reason.483

When using the term “public sphere” I am not only referring to the Harbermasian term in a narrow sence of the ideal type of a sphere of rational, deliberative public debate between private citizens with common interests in achieving the general good. As Habermas himself worded it, his understanding of the bourgeois public sphere was something that was

483 Jürgen Habermas, The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. An Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Society, translated by Thomas Burger, (Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1989), 27. 187

“transcending the confines of private domestic authority and becoming a subject of public interest, that zone of continuous administrative contact became “critical” also in the sense that it provoked the critical judgement of a public making use of its reason.”484 According to Habermas, the bourgeois public sphere institutionalised a practice of rational-critical discourse, especially on political matters. My use of public sphere will however refer to the diversity of the public spaces that were created, for example through the streets of Paris, as something more than a rational-critical debate. Images and visual communication were not necessarily argumentative but expressive, polemical and sometimes even of a rather violent order. Moreover, images and visual communication not only appeared in the printed press, but also dominated the physical public space as well, reaching larger parts of the probably illiterate urban population. In an article about Honoré Daumier’s depiction of the city life of Paris in his caricatures, Raphaella Serfaty states: “The proliferation of images in and of the city cultivated a new way of moving within the urban space that involved being distracted by images and continuously aspiring to decipher them.”485 Images and illustrations were part of the daily life of Parisians, since they were visible in the streets. Daumier drew inspiration from the images’ visibility in the urban space, which is present in his illustrations and caricatures. In this chapter, I will discuss the exchanges between the physical space and the printed press in the Parisian public sphere during the July Monarchy’s first years. The level of illiteracy being as high as it was in France during this period, access to the printed press was limited to a certain section of the population. However, the public sphere also developed from the expressions that manifested themselves in the streets, in physical spaces. Here, the images and political expressions were in the hands of those members of the population who did not have access to the printed press. I will now discuss the caricature’s relation to the public space.

484 Habermas, The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere, 24 485 Raphaella Serfaty, “The concept of urban spectatorship in Honoré Daumier’s caricatures”, Ridiculosa. Satire visuelle et espace public, (24/2017): 95. 188

6.2 CARICATURES AND THE STREETS OF PARIS

Although caricatures were rarely sold on the streets, as I discussed more in depth in the introductory chapter, one caricature produced by Philipon was offered exclusively for street sale.486 The caricature, drawn by Daumier, was called “Aux Prolétaires!” and was specifically intended for the working class, which explains why it was sold on the streets. Philipon had set the price of the caricature at 2 sous, a price he himself stated was based on their expenses for the production of the caricature, so as not to make profit from it. As Kerr points out, the fact that Philipon felt the need to explain the price and the manner in which the caricature was being distributed (i.e. on the streets of Paris) implied that this was not customary for him.487 Yet, it is clear from the prospectus of the first issue of La Caricature that Philipon’s intentions were that caricatures would be more accessible to all classes:

Aujourd’hui les procédés de la lithographie ont permis de rendre presque vulgaire cette jouissance exquise que les Parisiens seuls pouvaient renouveler tous les jours dans les rues, ou çà et là sur les boulevards. […] Qui n’a pas souvent envié ce privilége (sic), en apparence réservé aux gens riches, de combattre l’ennui chez certaines personnes en leur apportant un album fécond en dessin.488

Furthermore, as Kerr emphasises: “if caricatures were only exceptionally sold on the streets, they could always be seen there. In the months immediately following the July Revolution caricatures were posted up in the streets, where they attracted considerable attention and formed the nuclei of seditious gatherings.489” This is exemplified by the caricature, drawn by Traviès and published in La Caricature, depicting the front shop window of Maison Aubert, where La Caricature was edited (illustration 41). It shows a group of people gathered in front of the editing house of Maison Aubert, trying to get a glimpse of the new caricatures exhibited in the window. The crowd that is depicted in front of the shop does not perhaps give an exact portrayal of the reality; it may be exaggerated. Yet, it does show that caricatures were in fact

486 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 135. 487 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 135. 488 La Caricature, “prospectus” and “numéro-modèle” 1830. 489 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 135.

189 exhibited that way at Maison Aubert and that anybody could stop in front of the shop and have a look at the latest images: “Philipon tried to stimulate this curiosity by exhibiting a new caricature every day.”490 Fabrice Erre also notes that the caricatures were in contact with the Parisian population through the exhibition of images in the front shop window of Maison Aubert, and remarks that the pear caricature held an essential place in the window where it experienced its most visible success.491 Philipon expressed, with the caricatures exhibited at his editing house, a desire to present La Caricature’s lithographic caricatures as both popular and accessible. By publishing a caricature that pictures a crowd in front of one of its drawings, La Caricature implied that the caricature as a medium had become an important part of the public sphere in Paris. Contemporary Auguste Challamel (1818–1894) reminisces in his Souvenirs d’un hugolâtre: la génération de 1830 from 1885 that:

Il fallait se bousculer, presque s’étouffer devant la boutique du marchand de gravures Aubert, située au coin de la rue du Bouloi et du passage Véro-Dodat. Petits et grands, hommes ou femmes, personne ne manquait de s’y arrêter, pour regarder en riant la satire dessinée, nouvellement éclose du cerveau d’un artiste habile.492

Like La Caricature, La Charge also commented on how people in the streets reacted to a caricature published in the journal: “Il nous a plû de voir des enthousiastes déchirer notre lithographie des Démons de la presse, au milieu d’un groupe qui l’examinait tranquillement, le sourire sur les lèvres. C’est un bon signe; nous serions fâchés qu’ils eussent passé sans rien dire.”493 Whether the reactions were as intense the people “teared up” the lithography, as La Charge claimed they were, or whether the incident occurred at all, is difficult to determine with certainty, yet it is interesting that the journal wished to be as “controversial” as La Caricature, that it pleased them to see that, and to thus have the public react physically to one of its caricatures. It would have vexed them otherwise, as the text says. It also displays an awareness that caricatures not only functioned within the journals, alongside articles and text, but as something that could be exhibited separately in public spaces.

490 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 136. 491 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 181. 492 As cited in Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 181. 493 La Charge, 15 October 1832. 190

41. La Caricature, 22 December 1831

6.3 CHARLES PHILIPON AND THE PUBLIC SPHERE

The working class, although an underrepresented group as an audience of the newspapers of the period, was starting to express itself using the press. As expressed by Kerr: “Although only a fraction of the working class had either the resources or the leisure to read, the early 1830s did see a rapid growth in the number of newspapers and publishing ventures aimed at the working class, and the first tentative attempts by workers to find their own voice.”494 This can be exemplified by newspapers such as Le Peuple which had the subtitle “Journal general des ouvriers, rédigé par eux-mêmes” (see previous chapter). The newspaper published its first issue on 30 September 1830, when the editor claimed that the idea behind the establishment of the Le Peuple was “[…] pour s’entendre, pour discuter ses idées, ses opinions, il faut un moyen de

494 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 134. 191 communication. Nous croyons avoir trouvé ce moyen dans la publication d’un journal entièrement consacré aux ouvriers.”495 The press was not accessible to the majority of the French population, yet it is clear that the lower classes showed an interest in not only having more access to newspapers, but also in creating their own journals which could express their concerns and interests. Both Erre and Kerr emphasise the commercialising strategy that Philipon used to popularise the famous pear caricature. By incorporating the pear in the backgrounds of lithographs, Philipon effectively made the sign into a symbol that his readers could recognise and that would not be forgotten. Since La Caricature’s lithographs were, as mentioned earlier, exposed in the shop window of Maison Aubert, the pear caricature was thus accessible to the part of Paris that did not have access to the journal. Charles Philipon’s pear caricature of Louis-Philippe became so popular at the beginning of the July Monarchy, that people began drawing the pear in the streets of Paris, especially in the Latin quarter of Paris where students were especially opposed to the king.496 The “pear graffiti” is mentioned in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, where it is explained that Louis-Philippe was walking in the streets of Paris one day and came upon a little boy drawing a giant pear on a pillar.497 However, another caricature before the pear found its way in the streets of Paris. As already mentioned, Philipon’s earlier satirical journal La Silhouette had published a caricature of King Charles X as a Jesuit. This caricature also became widely popular. In his article on the pear and Jesuit caricatures, Fabrice Erre argues that the influence they had in public spaces was not one-sided. Both caricatures were somewhat inspired by the streets themselves: the pear motif was introduced in caricatures before Philipon’s caricature; he had merely popularised a pre-existing symbol.498 The same can be said about the Jesuit caricature. The figure of the Jesuit existed before the caricature. In 1826, the sovereign was already connected with Jesuits. Satirical coins were made portraying Charles X as a Jesuit, which Erre argues probably inspired Philipon’s caricature of the Jesuit king. What this

495 Le Peuple, 30 September 1830. 496 Fabrice Erre, “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’: la prolifération d’‘espiègleries’ séditieuses contre Charles X et Louis-Philippe (1826–1835)”, Romantisme, volume 150 (4/2010): 109-127. https://www.cairn.info/revue- romantisme-2010-4-page-109.htm (accessed August 7, 2017) 497 Victor Hugo, Les Misérables, Volume III, (Paris : Albert Lacroix et Cie, 1862), chapter 8. 498 Erre, “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’”, 114. 192 demonstrates is that the press was not the only medium for visual communication and caricatures. In fact, images and visual symbols were circulating and resonating between different media in the urban space. Next, I will discuss the caricatures in urban media flows, and more specifically, the relationship between street images and printed images.

6.4 THE STREET IMAGES

Both the 1789 and the 1830 Revolution took place in the streets. During the first revolution, the caricature had played an important part in propagating political messages in the form of pamphlets and flyers. This tradition of street protests and political expressions was still important during the July Monarchy. Thus, images were not only present in the illustrated press, but also in the streets through posters, shop windows and some lithographs sold on the street. The image became “a common object of consummation”, according to Jakobowicz.499 She also states that “les murs parisiens sont couverts d’affiches, de caricatures” and illustrates this statement with a caricature by Daumier from 1830 which depicts two men standing in front of a wall covered with satirical prints (illustration 42). The men are looking at a print that was made by the famous caricaturist Charlet in 1827. The “légende” of the caricature is the dialogue between the two men: “Il a raison l’moutard. – Eh oui, c’est nous qu’à fait la révolution et c’est eux qui la mangent (la galette).” The men insinuate that it is they, “the people”, who were the real participants in the 1830 Revolution, and thus criticise the bourgeois opportunism and appropriation of the Revolution.500 As Jakobowicz notes, this caricature demonstrates a form of reception of caricatures, since it shows how people reacted to caricatures “published” on walls in the streets of Paris.501 I will here make use of Daniel Bellingradt’s definition of the city as a “resonating box”.502 In his case study of early modern Cologne and Hamburg,

499 Nathalie Jakobowicz, “Les pratiques d’affichage dans l’espace public à Paris en 1830”, Revue d’histoire du XIXe siècle, 39 (2009), 17–36. http://journals.openedition.org/rh19/3912 (accessed 18 February 2019) 500 Jakobowicz, “Les pratiques d’affichage dans l’espace public à Paris en 1830”, 32. 501 Jakobowicz, “Les pratiques d’affichage dans l’espace public à Paris en 1830”, 32. 502 Daniel Bellingradt, “The Early Modern City as a Resonating Box: Media, Public Opinion, and the Urban Space of the Holy Roman Empire, Cologne, and Hamburg ca. 1700”, Journal of Early Modern History, 12 (2012).

193

Bellingradt analyses the different forms of communication – oral, written and printed – and interprets them as “echoes” that formed a resonating box.503 In his own words, his “line of argumentation includes the inhabitants’ awareness and perception of the echoes resonating inside the urban box”.504 I will argue that the way the media operated in Paris in the 1830s can also be described as a resonating box, where the inhabitants’ perception of and communication with the printed media is reflected back upon the press.

42. Daumier, 1830, Bibliothèque Nationale, Dc 180, t. I.

503 Bellingradt, “The Early Modern City as a Resonating Box”, 205. 504 Bellingradt, “The Early Modern City as a Resonating Box”, 205. 194

What I will argue is that this exchange between the printed press and the street images is also present in the caricatures of La Charge. When portraying an event in the street, there are often depictions of posters hanging on walls. In a caricature from 1833, for example, a republican beggar is shown sitting in front of a wall covered with republican posters.505 This illustrates how political expression functioned not only in the printed press, but also in the physical urban space, where the entire urban population could participate in symbolic exchange and political communication. Political messages and commentaries also invaded the streets where far more people could consume them. Images, often lithographs, on posters visualised the political commentaries that the illiterate population could not read. Images were, in addition to the lithographs, present in the public spaces of Paris in the form of graffiti. As I argued earlier, the pear caricatures of King Louis-Philippe began to appear on walls in Paris after the image’s popularisation in 1831. A year later, La Caricature wrote an entire article based on a fictional letter written by a street cleaner who explained how difficult it was to erase all the pears in Paris: “Il n’y a qu’à se promener dans Paris et lever le nez en l’air: si on y trouve encore quelques traces de la revolution.” He explains the cleaners’s daily routine as “courant la ville le jour, pour inspecter chaque façade, examiner chaque borne, explorer chaque muraille, et prendre nos notes en consequence; et la reparcourant la nuit, pour les gratter, bouchonner, et laver de toutes les poires dont nous les avions vues salies.”506 The work proved to be impossible because “la poire est devenue immense, colossale, incommensurable.” Furthermore, “La poire commençait alors à remplacer, sur tous les murs, les traces effacées de la révolution, […] effacer des poires, c’était continuer, pour ainsi dire, à faire disparaître les fruits de la révolution.” This article places the caricature as physically belonging to the public sphere and to city life. The article of course exaggerates the propagation of the caricature. Yet, the article is nevertheless inspired by real events. Testimonies from newspapers of this period testify that the pear caricature did indeed appear in the public spaces of Paris, and of other big cities in France.507

505 La Charge, 31 March 1833. 506 La Caricature, 20 September 1832. 507 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 187–190.

195

Several caricatures in La Caricature and Le Charivari show the pear drawn on walls. However, although La Caricature depicted the pear caricature’s popularity in Paris, the journal probably drew inspiration from other cases of graffiti and inscriptions appearing on walls around Paris as well.508 The most famous examples were the “Crédeville” inscription and the “nose” caricature from the 1820s. To explain these occurrences, we can turn to an article entitled “Promenade pittoresque le long des murailles de Paris”, featured in La Charge in 1833.509 The author of La Charge here writes about the “weird drawings” that had emerged on walls throughout Paris. The author characterises these drawings as “dirty” and “abominable”. He lists different examples of drawings appearing in Paris, and his judgement of them. The article mentions the case of “Crédeville”: “there is not a wall where we cannot read the name of Crédeville”. The article explains that the man called Crédeville was an escaped convict who had developed an “active imagination” through his love of freedom. Crédeville started to write his name on walls next to every sentinel in Paris, a way of mocking the police who had a very difficult time arresting him. Historian Fabrice Erre also writes about the case of “Crédeville”, which he notes is confirmed by police records from this period describing the case in the 1820s.510 There are also several examples of the inscription “Crédeville” written on walls in caricatures from La Caricature, often combined with pears and other symbols. In a caricature published on 30 June 1831, Louis-Philippe is famously portrayed as a mason covering up a wall full of inscriptions, where the inscription “Crédeville est un voleur” is prominently visible.511 As Erre points out: “Les dessinateurs de La Caricature connaissent bien ces graffitis, qu’ils font parfois figurer sur leur propres productions.”512 This shows that the printed press appropriated street graphics

508 For a more in-depth study of the pear graffiti, see Aaron Sheon, “The Discovery of Graffiti”, Art Journal. Volume 36 (1976): 16-22. https://www.jstor.org/stable/776110 (accessed October 15, 2019); Ségolène Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”; Fabrice Erre, Le règne de la Poire and Fabrice Erre, “Provocations satiriques éphémères anonymes”, fabula.org, http://www.fabula.org/colloques/document2930.php (accessed 4 March 2019). 509 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 510 Erre, “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’: la prolifération d'’espiègleries’ séditieuses contre Charles X et Louis-Philippe (1826-1835)”, 119. 511 La Caricature, 30 June 1831. 512 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 184.

196 into their own works. I have not found the inscription in any of La Charge’s caricatures, only the mention of it in the article. La Charge’s article also refers to the case of the “nose caricature”. Presumably, an artist had quarrelled with his colleagues one day, which had angered them. They started to mock him by caricaturing him in the ateliers, especially exaggerating his big nose. This escalated, and his colleagues started to draw the big nose everywhere: “But the joke had not yet gone beyond the ateliers and it had to become public so as to satisfy these gentlemen’s demanding animosity.”513 From then on, the article states, the graffiti started to surface on walls near the painters’ homes, and “[…] petit à petit, elle se montra dans d’autre quartiers, et, en moins de six mois, Paris et la banlieue en furent inondés.”514 La Charge focuses on the caricature’s escalation from a few innocent drawings in the ateliers, to its propagation throughout the whole city and even to the suburbs. Like the Crédeville inscription, the nose caricature is based on a real event.515 According to Erre, the nose caricature presumably did appear on walls in Paris.516 However, the legitimacy of the story about the mocked artist is debatable. La Caricature incorporated the “nose caricature” into their own caricatures, as they had done with the Crédeville inscriptions. Again, this proves that the caricaturists drew inspiration from what was happening in the city space. Erre writes in his article “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’” about two caricatures from satirical journals and their connections to the city spaces. One of them is the pear caricature, which, as I have already mentioned, became a popular motif as graffiti. However, the Jesuit caricature of Charles X years prior to the pear was, according to Erre, even more popular among the working-class population. This caricature was also created by Charles Philipon, while he was working for the satirical journal La Silhouette, as discussed earlier. Erre explains the two caricatures’ propagation and influence by using Habermas’s distinction between the “bourgeois public sphere” and the “plebeian public sphere”. According to Erre, the Jesuit caricature originated in the “plebeian sphere”, while the pear caricature originated primarily in

513 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 514 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 515 The first article mentioning the nose caricature was published in Le Figaro in 1828, and was entitled “Crédeville et M. B***, ou la signature et le grotesque”. 516 Fabrice Erre, “Provocations satiriques éphémères anonymes”.

197 the “bourgeois sphere”, but the two caricatures eventually invaded both spheres. The Jesuit caricature was created in the “plebeian sphere”, since pamphlets depicting the Jesuit king appeared in Paris, and coins featuring the Jesuit caricature began to circulate in Marseilles in the 1820s.517 The coins depicted King Charles X’s portrait, and people started to engrave a hat and a big nose to make him look like a Jesuit. When Philipon drew a caricature of Charles X as a Jesuit in the journal La Silhouette in 1830, he apparently drew inspiration from the coins that were circulating.518 The pear caricature also gained popularity in the plebeian sphere, as I have exemplified with the graffiti. However, the pear caricature did not reach the streets exclusively due to Philipon’s caricature in his journals. Philipon’s caricatures were too expensive to acquire and therefore belonged to the “bourgeois sphere”. Erre explains that the pear caricature reached the “plebeian sphere” because the pear was a pre-existing symbol that Philipon had exploited in his caricature, though it did not refer to the king prior to Philipon’s pear. Contrary to the Jesuit caricature, the pear caricature symbolising Louis-Philippe was created in the printed press and began to surface in the cities. Interestingly, in the article previously mentioned, La Charge also uses the word “plebeian” to characterise the act of drawing or writing on walls, but with a considerably more pejorative tone. In the article about street caricatures, La Charge’s author expresses a disgruntlement with this practice. The journal’s objection to the graffiti is that people who are drawing phrases and images on the walls are merely mimicking others: “[…] c’est ce qu’on prend pour l’opinion du peuple n’est que le reflet ou l’imitation machinale, à la manière des singes, de ce que font trois ou quatre mains, qui sont loin de se croire plébéiennes. […] Cela passe ensuite par les mains des dessinateurs des rues ; mais ce n’est ni leur création, ni par conséquent leur opinion. Ils ne sont que singes dans cette affaire.”519 The article’s author thus maintains that not everybody should draw or write on walls, because “Certes, si le peuple savait manier un crayon, on y verrait d’excellentes charges ou caricatures, au lieu d’expression écrite, souvent grossière et sans sel, de ses opinions et de ses vœux.”520 If a person wants to write or

517 Erre, “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’”, 113. 518 Erre, “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’”, 119-120. 519 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 520 La Charge, 27 January 1833. 198 draw on a wall, he should at least have the talent and the right motivations to do so, the article argues. This shows, I will maintain, that the imagery of a particular “plebeian” public sphere, or at least a “plebeian” communication practice connected to the physical urban space, was prevalent during the July Monarchy itself. When inscriptions or drawings on walls are depicted in La Charge, they usually refer to republicans. In a caricature from 1833, a man is sleeping near a wall that has some republican slogans inscribed on it. The slogan “Vive la République”521 is written on walls in numerous caricatures in La Charge. Another caricature, from 25 August 1833, shows a wall decorated with the inscription “Vive la Républic [sic]” and a drawing of a guillotine (illustration 43). The article explaining the caricature focuses on the figure of the “République”, depicted as a woman in the image.522 In the article, République (referred to as she in the article) is described as being a “public matter” (chose publique523) because of her origins in the “scientific name”, res publica. The article states that “A Athène, à Sparte, à Rome (pardon de mon érudition) elle n’était pas publique”. The republic then existed only for a few wealthy and powerful men, the ones called citizens. However, the article continues, in 93 (meaning 1793) they saw “la chose publique appartenir exclusivement à la canaille, tandis que les gens comme il faut ont payé de leur tête le petit plaisir d’en tâter”. Commenting on the guillotine on the wall, the article explains: “on voit à la porte une lanterne, et charbonnée sur la muraille, une petite guillotine, joujoux de la chose publique”. This caricature can be understood, I will argue, as a comment on the dangers that those little drawings on walls, for example of small guillotines, represented. They may have seemed harmless, but they expressed dangerous political and visual propaganda. La Charge’s analysis of the public sphere, and especially the plebeian sphere, is that it was flooded with republican propaganda. La Charge argues that the right of expression should not belong to everybody and that there is a need to set a standard for what can and cannot be expressed in the public sphere. This is particularly evident in the way La Charge mentions that the public “chose” only

521 Sometimes written “Vive la Républic”. 522 There is also another woman portraying a Legitimist woman who has the name of the newspaper La Quotidienne written on her dress. 523 The French word “chose” translates to “thing”. Louis-Philippe was often referred to as “Monsieur chose” in the oppositional press because of his “unmanly” figure. The use of the word “chose” here is probably a reference to that. 199 belonged to the “canailles” in 1793, who are opposing what they describe as the “gens comme il faut”. The caricature was published on 27 January, which is close to the date 21 January, the date that Louis XVI was executed on in 1793. 21 January 1833 was the 40th anniversary of the execution. The image thus shows the commemorative and violent intention La Charge associated with the Republic – that it always leads to the Terror.

43. La Charge, 27 January 1833

6.5 THE “GAMIN DE PARIS”

The brioche symbol that La Charge “created” to counter the pear caricature, I have argued, copied the latter completely, including in the manner the caricature was used. This meant that the brioche symbol began to appear in the background of other caricatures, just like the pear caricature in La Caricature and Le Charivari. Although La Charge’s editor claimed that they

200 would not “exploit” the brioche like the opposition “exploited” the pear,524 the journal nevertheless followed the same approach as Philipon’s journals. La Charge’s editor even claimed, perhaps not seriously, that a baker in Paris had decorated his sign with the brioche and the text “Au nouveau Bonnet de la République”.525 Although this claim could have been meant in a humorous manner, I will argue that it demonstrates La Charge’s use of the symbol, which, as in La Caricature, was connected with the streets, with the urban space. A caricature called “La toilette du Républicain” from 5 May 1833 portrays a republican man being shaved, getting his toenails trimmed and having his hair dressed up by three men (illustration 45). In the background, we can see two small brioches drawn on the wall. Under the bigger brioche is written “Nouveau Bonnet de la République”. The article connected to the caricature tells the reader at the end that

je vous recommande aussi à votre attention le gamin qui traîne l’ancien bonnet de notre homme, et qui a l’air d’être prêt à un en faire un usage fort indiscret. C’est sans doute lui qui a tracé sur les murs le nouveau bonnet de la république, tandis qu’une respectable brioche qui coiffait le héros de la scène, repose paisiblement sur la tête à perruque.526

The articles explains that the little boy in the image not only drew the brioches on the wall, but that he is preparing to “make use” of the brioche behind him (meaning that he will use the Phrygian cap behind him as a toilet). Since La Charge used the word “brioche” to designate the republican Phrygian cap, there are actually four brioches depicted in the image: the two drawings of brioches on the wall, one “brioche” behind the child, and one “brioche” on the hat holder. La Charge’s caricature is, I will argue, an imitation of or a reaction to Auguste Bouquet’s (1810–1848) image in La Caricature from 17 January the same year, which portrays children drawing the pear caricature (in addition to the “nose caricature” and the Crédeville inscription) on a wall (illustration 46). I believe that it was intentional of La Charge’s

524 La Charge, 7 April 1833: “Ceux qui ont fait de la poire un emblème si ingénieux, à les croire, qu’ils l’ont mis et le mettent encore à toute sauce, viennent de faire de la brioche un emblème non moins ingénieux. La silhouette de la brioche représente exactement celle du bonnet phrygien, autrement dit, du bonnet de la République. Seulement, les inventeurs ne se chargeront pas d’exploiter cette ressemblance.” 525 La Charge, 5 May 1833. 526 La Charge, 5 May 1833.

201 caricaturist to use a child to draw the brioche-symbol, just as Bouquet’s children are the ones who draw the pear symbols. I will argue that both caricatures refer to the figure of the “gamin de Paris”. As other scholars have noticed, the figure of the Parisian “gamin” became important after the July Revolution.527 Erre argues that the pear graffiti was first produced by the “jeunesse parisienne”.528 By young Parisians, Erre means the young artists and students, who were familiar with La Caricature. According to Erre, the “gamins de Paris” were exposed to the pear through the graffiti drawn by the students: “la Poire est ensuite prise en charge par les gamins de Paris”.529 Erre states that Bouquet “honoured” the “gamins de Paris” in his lithograph, thus suggesting that the caricaturists had witnessed the pear graffiti drawn by children in the streets of Paris. The Parisian gamin was linked to the revolutions, as an active participant in the revolutions. As Marilyn Brown notes, “the nineteenth-century deployment of a boy as a revolutionary agent and emblem traces its roots back to the Great Revolution of 1789”.530 She further argues that the “Parisian gamin” was linked to visual culture, as part of the “repeated, recycled imagery of revolution”.531 Delacroix’s La Liberté Guidant le Peuple thus depicts a child right next to Liberté, and he becomes an important part of the painting (illustration 44). The child is said to have inspired the character Gavroche in Hugo’s Les Misérables, as I mentioned in the chapter on Revolution.532 It is also important to note that, as I have mentioned earlier, when Hugo writes about the pear caricature being drawn in the streets of Paris, it is

527 For more research on the figure of the Parisian “gamin”, see Anthony Esler, “Youth in Revolt: The French Generation of 1830”, Modern European Social History, edited by Robert J. Bezucha (Lexinton, MA, Toronto and London: D.C. Heath and Company, 1972); Luce Abélès, Le Gamin de Paris (Paris: Musée d’Art et d’Essai, 1985); Ségolène Le Men, Les Francais peints par eux-mêmes: Panorama du XIXe siècle (Réunion des Musées Nationaux, 1993); Frédéric Chauvaud, “Gavroche et ses pairs: aspects de la violence politique du groupe enfantin en France au XIXe siècle”, Culture & Conflicts, 18 (1995), 21–33; Jean-Jacques Yvorel, “De Delacroix à Poulbot, l’image du gamin de Paris”, Revue d’histoire de l’enfance “irrégilière”, 4 (2002), 39–72; Anna Green, French Paintings of Childhood and Adolescence 1848–1886 (Aldershot, UK and Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Sébastien Pajolec and Jean-Jacques Yvorel, “Du ‘gamin de Paris’ aux ‘jeunes de banlieu’: evolution d’un stereotype”, Imaginaires urbains du Paris romantique à nos jours, edited by Myriam Tsikounas (Paris: Le Manuscrit, 2011); Marilyn Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture: Delacroix, Hugo, and the French Social Imaginary (Abingdon-on-Thames: Taylor and Francis, 2017). 528 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 185. 529 Erre, Le règne de la Poire, 187. 530 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 8. 531 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 2. 532 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 3. 202 also a child, a “gamin de Paris”, who is responsible, just like in the lithograph of La Caricature, but also in La Charge’s caricature.

44. The "gamin de Paris" (detail from Delacroix)

Brown emphasises how the portrayal of the child was connected to the understanding of “the people”, but also later on to the notions of “fraternity” and “nation”.533 She explains “the invention and development of the gamin de Paris archetype” with what she calls “a larger romantic cult of childhood”.534 In the course of the 19th century, children began to be more protected by the state than before and educational reforms introduced mandatory nationalised education; yet, the children from lower classes were differentiated from the bourgeois children. They were still “feared and suspected of revolutionary tendencies”.535 Brown argues that in the period between 1830 and the Third Republic, the gamin de Paris as a political agent in the

533 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 9. 534 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 12. 535 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 13. As Brown notes, the education of working-class children also had the purpose of moralising the working classes. She also remarks that historians have criticised the politics of education as “counteracting recurrent threats of revolution with collective cultural inculcation and ideological indoctrination of all citizens, including enfants du peuple, into a supposedly cohesive (bourgeois) social order of the “nation” through pedagogical authority and discipline”.

203 social imaginary “became an unstable emblem of the fraternity of ‘the people’ even as he was an orphaned child of the nation”.536 There are several recollections and descriptions of children taking part in the three revolutionary days during the July Revolution. Some have argued that the 1830 Revolution was a “generational rebellion” by the so-called Jeunes-Frances, the children of the bourgeoisie.537 However, as Brown argues, “the boys were definitely from ‘the people’, not the bourgeoisie” since reports from the time mention delinquents and artisans, but not “bourgeois”.538 Portrayals of children at that time varied between depicting them as violent rioters and as young heroes. In Delacroix’s painting, the boy is portrayed as almost leading “Liberté” across the barricade, since he crosses the barricade before her.539 The “gamins” in both La Caricature and La Charge are portrayed as children having fun, and not as violent rioters in any way. They are somewhat “naïve” since they do not seem to care about authority. The child in La Charge is even defecating in the Phrygian cap. He is making fun of the republicans by drawing the “republican symbol” on the wall, just as the children in La Caricature are drawing the symbol of the king on the wall. Erre suggests that the portrayal of children as the “artists” behind the pear graffiti was due to the caricaturists having witnessed children doing so in Paris. However, perhaps the use of children can also tell us something about how the caricaturists perceived the medium of the caricature, as one that could be understood by “everybody”, even children. Furthermore, the use of children in visual media, as Brown points out, can also symbolically represent the future. The use of children in caricatures, as discussed here, could indicate a more symbolic meaning than merely the depiction of the “reality”. As Brown describes the gamin de Paris, “the figure raises the potential for both hope and violence, for naïve, romantic freedom and for destruction in equal measures”.540 Delacroix’s depiction of the gamin de Paris had a major influence on the reception of the visual representation of the July Revolution, which the caricaturists were also familiar with.

536 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 17. 537 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 24. 538 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 24. 539 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 24. 540 Brown, The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture, 1. 204

45. La Charge, 6 May 1833

205

46. La Caricature, 17 January 1833

Next, I will discuss how La Charge pursues the argument that “not everyone should be able to express their opinions” in relation to the printed press and the profession of journalism.

6.6 LA CHARGE AND THE PRESS

La Charge painted a rather dark picture of the conditions under which journalism and the press found themselves in France in the early 1830s. As I discussed in the introduction, La Charge described newspapers such as Le National, La Tribune, La Gazette and La Quotidienne in very negative terms. The journal accused other journalists (essentially the ones criticising the July Monarchy) of creating unnecessary problems and conflicts. The journalists’ written attacks had also, according to La Charge and the government, escalated to physical attacks on the king,

206 which I discussed in the introductory chapter. This was a reference to the attempted assassination of Louis-Philippe in November 1832, which the government and the governmental press claimed the oppositional press had encouraged, as discussed in earlier chapters. The oppositional journalists were accused of destabilising society’s order just for the sake of being in “opposition”, no matter what it was against. The violent attacks on the government and the king were not justified, according to La Charge. I will now explain how La Charge described the work of journalists and the press and the impact they had, using examples from some of their caricatures and articles. I wish to emphasise La Charge’s ideals regarding the public sphere by addressing the journal’s critique of the press. Through criticising the oppositional press, La Charge simultaneously expressed certain principles that they believed were important for the public order (l’ordre public). The mention of the “ordre public” is a reference to Louis-Philippe’s politics, which the king explained in the speech he gave in January 1831, in Gaillac: “Sans doute la révolution doit porter ses fruits, mais cette expression n’est que trop souvent employée dans un sens qui ne répond ni à l’esprit national, ni aux besoins du siècle, ni au maintien de l’ordre public.”541

541 Antonetti, Louis-Philippe, 645. It is the same speech in which he famously mentioned the politics of the “juste mileu”, a term that was extensively ridiculed and became very popular among the opposition: “Nous chercherons à nous tenir dans un juste milieu, également éloigné des excès du pouvoir populaire et des abus du pouvoir royal.” 207

47. La Charge, 7 October 1832

The first caricature I will examine is called “Les Démons de la Presse”, and was printed in La Charge’s first issue on 7 October 1832 (illustration 47). Thus, the first caricature published in La Charge was a comment on the press, which I think emphasises the importance the journal placed on the role played by the press at that time. La Charge wished to express a critique of the oppositional press’s (bad) influence on society. The image depicts a printing press and three devils playing with it. A man is standing next to the press, with his arms crossed, watching the devils at work. Under the press, we can see several objects that the devils are deliberately crushing to pieces. The article following the caricature explains that the objects are “signs of power that maintain order and balance in societies”.542 We can also see two small angel-like figures trying to hold the press up, seemingly to prevent it from destroying the objects underneath it. The printer is clearly sceptical of the devils, and is trying to talk some sense into them: “j’ai vu à peu près leur

542 The signs are listed in the text as being “the cross, the sceptre, the sword, the hand of justice”.

208

équivalent, en 93, sans que cela ait été bien utile à moi et à mes compatriots. Ce n’était pas la peine de recommencer.”543 As I discussed in the previous chapter, La Charge feared that republicans and the oppositional press were trying to reproduce the Terror from 1793, the ultimate example of a state of anarchy and chaos, according to the journal. This view on the republicans was shared by Louis-Philippe, as illustrated by a speech he gave about the insurrection of June 5 and 6 1832: “Les journées des 5 et 6 juin ont fait éclater la perversité et l’impuissance des fauteurs de l’anarchie.”544 La Charge’s article states, rather ironically, that the printer perhaps “did not perceive all the dignity and the admirableness in today’s usage of the absolute freedom of the press”. The article lists different ways in which the oppositional press is trying to generate changes, such as to “shake off the yoke of all religion”, to destroy royalty, and to “even out all of society’s classes, so that the last ones will come first”. The article ends by proclaiming:

O sainte liberté de la presse, poursuis ta carrière; brûle au lieu d’éclairer; vas, bouleverse, abîmes, réduis en poudre tout ce qui obtint jusqu’ici le respect des hommes; et quand tu auras écrasé, pour dernière victoire, la tête des rois, présidents ou consuls, ce qui est tout un, il ne te restera plus qu’à t’écraser la tête à toi-même.545

The concluding sentence of the article is La Charge’s suggestion that the freedom of the press, after having shackled religion, the monarchy and society’s classes, should “smash its own head”. I interpret this caricature as a commentary on the professions of printing and of journalism, which in La Charge’s opinion had got out of hand, symbolised by the devils ravaging the printing press and creating chaos. The fact that this particular caricature, and the article that accompanies it, were a clear critique of the press makes it apparent that this was an important subject and a great motivation for La Charge. The shattering of society produced by the press during the first two years of the July Monarchy was an issue La Charge was most eager to comment on and criticise.

543 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 544 Le Constitutionnel, 20 November 1832. 545 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 209

48. La Charge, 18 November 1832

The press and journalists were often depicted as devil figures in La Charge. In a caricature called “L’écritoire de l’Opposition”546 (illustration 48), a journalist is shown dipping his pen in the mouth of a devil: “c’est dans la gueule du diable en personne qu’il trempe sa plume malfaisante; c’est dans cette écritoire véritablement satanique qu’il puise toutes ses noirceurs.” The conclusion is that the journalist of opposition is “born to oppose”. The article states: “Il fut un temps où l’on trouvait raisonnable de s’opposer à ce qui était mauvais, et d’admettre ce qui était bon: c’était justice.” However, “Aujourd’hui, nous avons changé tout cela.” The evaluation of the press as a declining art form was a view shared by many others at the time. Such views can for example be found in L’Encyclopédie about the practice of “imprimeur”. In her book on the dichotomous reception of the printing press throughout the early modern period, Elizabeth L. Eisenstein argues: “As is so often the case, the best of the past was held up against the worst of the present.”547 She also cites Roger Chartier on the paradox of the

546 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 547 Eisenstein, Divine Art, Infernal Machine, 129. 210

Encyclopédie that praised progress while at the same time complaining about the “recent signs of decline” that were to be found in the art of printing. The article that accompanies the caricature in La Charge describes the oppositional journalist as “a race of its own”: “L’écrivain de l’Opposition est une race à part, race grondeuse, querelleuse, haineuse par système et non par conviction.”548 The journalist of opposition does not follow his own convictions; instead, it is the “system of opposition” that guides his path. Behind the journalist, sitting on a chair, is the “bird of ill omen” (oiseau de mauvais augure), which is a sign of misfortune. On the sheet of paper in front of him is written “papier venin”, meaning venomous paper. This is a play on the French term for wove paper, “papier vélin”, a type of writing paper that became popular in the 19th century. The journalist is writing on venomous paper with black, diabolical ink – which altogether turns into a devil’s work. The man is, according to La Charge, only driven by an ill-natured will to create chaos and disruption in society, not to work for the good of society, even though oppositional journalists claimed that this was their goal. La Charge thought that the supporters of the freedom of the press were often extremists who did not necessarily have good intentions for how they wanted to use the freedom they had gained. “[…] ce qu’on appelle liberté de la presse a décidé dans sa sagesse de chercher le ridicule, de l’inventer s’il n’existe pas, de médire, de mentir, de calomnier, il n’y a pas de réputation qui tienne”, La Charge wrote, in an article titled, ironically, “Avantages incontestables de ce qu’on appelle liberté de la presse”.549 This argument helps to explains why La Charge saw censorship as merely a reasonable answer when dealing with what they saw as a threat to the social order and to society’s wellbeing. Why should the state allow such agitation for the sake of free speech and freedom of print?

Absurdité! Folie! Aussi le gouvernement n’est pas si fou, et il écoute les avis de la raison, qui lui dit de n’être pas généreux à son détriment. Il a montré bien assez de noblesse dans mainte querelle, pour ne craindre aucun blâme quand il se sert d’armes aussi loyales.550

548 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 549 La Charge, 10 August 1833. 550 La Charge, 3 March 1833. 211

This argument also refers to La Charge’s critique of the “plebeian sphere” and the political comments and drawings that it produced.

49. La Charge, 2 December 1832

A caricature was published in La Charge on 2 December 1832 called “La Balance du Journaliste” (illustration 49). It shows a journalist holding a balance scale with a woman (personifying France) on one of the scales and a bag of coins on the other. A little devil figure with a bag instead of a head, on which is written “the spirit of journalism”, is pushing the

212 woman’s scale up, causing the bag of coins to weigh more than her. “Pauvre petite France, tu ne pèses pas une once, dans la balance du journaliste!”, the caricaturist comments. According to the article, the journalist is eager to take the bag of coins, delighted to see that it weighs more than France does. By eagerly grabbing the bag of coins, the journalist will cause France to be out of balance and fall off her scale: “Est-ce que cela t’étonne?” the article asks. This insinuates that the journalist does not care about “France” and that he prefers the bag of money. The author of La Charge’s article continued to maintain that journalists no longer cared for the wellbeing of their country:

Je sais bien qu’à toute force on pourrait exiger qu’un journal public eût pour mobile le bien public; qu’une feuille consacrée au progress de la civilisation, à tout ce qu’il y a de bon et d’utile au people, mît en première ligne ce qui est on et utile au people. Mais baste! Nous avons changé tout cela.551

La Charge claimed that the press’s ideological motivations were different to what they were before, that they had taken a turn for the worse. It argued that journalists no longer used their occupation to enlighten or inform, and that they only thrived on the idea of creating disturbance and anarchy. In an article titled “Quelque chose de sérieux à messieurs les journalists”, it is stated that La Charge had received questions asking why the journal attacked journalists since they, after all, were journalists too. To this, La Charge’s journalist answered: “Eh! c’est bien ce qui me fâche!”552 This “answer” from the journalist can be interpreted as him displaying anger at the bad reputation the oppositional journalists were giving to the profession of journalism. The author of the article accuses journalists of working to destroy everything good: “le débordement actuel de la presse qui ne tend à rien moins qu’à détruire perpétuellement tout respect pour l’ordre de choses établi, saper le gouvernement, appeler à la révolte, et pousser à l’assassinat.”553 The article also specifically addresses caricatures: “les caricatures politiques, fruits presque imprévus de la liberté de la presse, ces croquis si plaisans (sic) quand ils sont justes et spirituels, si repoussans (sic), quand ils n’ont pour base que l’injustice et de criminelles

551 La Charge, 2 December 1832. 552 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 553 La Charge, 18 November 1832.

213 intentions.”554 Again, La Charge criticises its opponents, in this case La Caricature, of using the press and the caricature to create turmoil. Near the end of the article, the author writes: “Nous sommes du parti de la raison et d’une sage nationalité; de ce parti qui ne soudoie personne, et qui s’applique à travailler à la prospérité du pays.”555 La Charge had, according to itself, managed to execute the journalist’s task in a moral and righteous way, contrary to the opposition.

6.7 A DEVILISH OCCUPATION

As exemplified by the three caricatures that I have analysed in this chapter so far, a recurring theme in La Charge was the idea of journalism and the press being run by devils. In the first caricature, devils are playing with the printing machine, while in the second, it is the journalist who dips his pen in the mouth of a devil, and finally, a little devil is making France weigh less than a bag of coins in the third caricature. Portraying printing as a diabolical work was not a new phenomenon in the 19th century. Eisenstein repeatedly refers to the example of “printers’ devils” in her work on the reception of printing in the West, mentioned earlier.556 One of her examples comes from a particular print titled “The Art and Mystery of Printing Emblematically Displayed”, published in the Grub Street Journal in 1732 by the publisher-bookseller Edmund Curll. Curll is portrayed wearing a monstrous mask and working in his print shop.557 Eisenstein writes that in “contrast to Marchand’s depiction of master printers such as Gutenberg and Caxton on commemorative medallions in heroic guise, the Grub Street Journal describes an encounter with black and dirty newsboys who were so black and dirty that they were known as “printers’ devils”.558 Their devilish looks were not only caused by their blackness, but were also a result of the art that they practised, which could be used with ill intentions. Eisenstein centres on how the art of

554 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 555 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 556 Eisenstein, Devine Art, Infernal Machine (2011). 557 Eisenstein, Divine Art, Infernal Machine, 104. 558 Eisenstein, Divine Art, Infernal Machine, 107.

214 printing was understood as both a divine art and an almost devilish, or at least dangerous or derogatory, occupation. In the 18th century, many glorified this “divine art”. Eisenstein uses the examples of the French Academicians, who praised printed discourses over political oratory, and Condorcet who “believed that the use of print would lead to the ultimate triumph of reason over revelation and science over superstition”.559 However, the printed press could also vulgarise this “divine art”, which is what La Charge’s editor believed was happening. The press as a devilish occupation was a theme La Charge wished to accentuate through using devil figures in its caricatures. Devils are everywhere in La Charge – both in caricatures and in articles – and they are usually used in reference to the oppositional press. Devils are also present in Philipon’s journals, such as the caricature “Scène diabolique” from 22 November 1832 (illustration 50). Kerr suggests that this caricature inspired La Charge’s caricature called “Diablerie” from February 1833 (illustration 51). Although the theme of both caricatures does refer to devils, I would argue that La Charge’s caricature resembles more the technique of the “silhouettes” which were popular at that time and often published in La Caricature.560 I would argue that the assumption that the caricature “Scène diabolique” inspired La Charge’s “Diablerie” is debatable, but that the images do show that the theme of “devils” was often featured in the caricatures of that time.

559 Eisenstein, Divine Art, Infernal Machine, 99. 560 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 62. Le Men argues that the “technique” of “silhouettes” in caricatures, and the use of shadows, was “en vogue” and refers to the title of Philipon’s first journal, La Silhouette. 215

50. La Caricature n. 107 pl. 220, “Scène diabolique” by W.B.

216

51. La Charge, n. 5, 1833, “Diablerie”

In La Charge, the press could be both a devil’s work, exemplified by the oppositional and republican press, or it could be virtuous, exemplified by their journal itself. Even though La Charge used the same method as La Caricature and the other oppositional journals, it did express a desire to present itself differently than the rest of the satirical press. According to the editor, La Charge possessed, contrary to their opponents, moral principles. This reasoning explains why, I will argue, La Charge could justify censorship of some of the printed press, and especially the journals of oppositions that “deserved” it.

6.8 LA CHARGE’S CENSORSHIP STRATEGY

As I have explained earlier, Philipon’s journals were the victims of persecution by the state even after the Constitutional Charter of 1830. Many caricatures were seized over the course of a few years and the two journals, La Caricature and Le Charivari, were both punished with

217 numerous fines.561 Although the Charter stated that “censorship can never be re-established”, it also stated that people could print what they wanted provided that the printed texts or images were “conforming with the laws”. This meant that there were things you could not publish if the publication broke other laws: like for example threatening the king. La Charge wrote about Article 7, arguing that the oppositional journalists had abused the law’s generosity towards the freedom of the press because of their confidence that “censorship [could] never be re- established”, which this quote illustrates:

Jetez les yeux autours de vous, et voyez un peu le bien que font à la France les journaux de tous les partis. Demandez-vous ensuite quel rôle joue la conscience dans cette lutte d’opinion, qui tourne de temps à autre en lutte à coups de fusil. Voyez quelles bienfaisantes conséquences le journalisme a fait découler de l’article 7 de notre charte: La liberté de la presse, et la certitude que la censure ne pourra jamais être rétablie, sont exploitées largement par tous les partis.562

One of these outcomes was the attempted assassination of the king in November 1832, which revived the debate on the limits of freedom of the press. What could be understood as a threat to the king? When debating the “September Laws” of 1835, which re-introduced prior censorship of design, including caricatures, the French Attorney General explained that:

Article 7 of the Charter proclaims that Frenchmen have the right to circulate their opinions in published form. But, when opinions are converted into actions by the circulation of drawings, it is a question of speaking to the eyes. That is something more than the expression of an opinion; it is an incitement to action not covered by Article 7.563

The image was seen as a threat because it could affect the readers in a different way from written text, the Attorney General argued. The images that Philipon’s journals had produced were problematic for the government because they had gained so much popularity. Following the caricatures of Louis-Philippe, starting with the “soap-bubbles” caricature (Les Bulles de savon), it was declared that every depiction of the king would be prosecuted. The Charter of 1830 had abolished prior censorship, but between 1830 and 1834, 520 press prosecutions were set forth in Paris.564 The government’s prosecution of caricatures that depicted the king was

561 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 193. 562 La Charge, 18 November 1832. 563 Cited in Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, 73. 564 Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, 47. 218 justified by the lèse-majesté argument, which was further reinforced after the dissemination of the pear caricatures of Louis-Philippe. Let us turn now to the strategy that Philipon used when faced with censorship for portraying the king in lithographs. As I explained in Chapter 3, Philipon’s pear caricature was “born” during a trial against two lithographs published in La Caricature in 1831.565 At the trial on 14 November 1831, Philipon argued that the two caricatures did not actually portray Louis- Philippe, and that it was the spectators and the judges that projected the king’s figure onto the characters portrayed in the images.566 To prove his point, Philipon thus drew, as he explained each step, the metamorphosis of the portrait of the king into a pear. His argument was that the four portraits were not actually the king, but that they merely resembled the king:

Jugez-moi, messieurs; dites si c’est le roi que j’attaque ou le pouvoir que je personnifie par un signe de convention, et que je critique. […] Car, voyez ces traits informes auxquels j’aurais peut-être dû borner toute ma défense. Ils sont liés l’un à l’autre par un chaînon insensible, ils se ressemblent tous. Le premier ressemble à Louis-Philippe, le dernier ressemble au premier, et cependant, c’est une poire! Où vous arrêteriez-vous, si vous suiviez le principe qu’on veut vous faire admettre? Condamneriez-vous le premier? Mais il vous faudrait condamner le dernier, car il lui ressemble, et, par conséquent, il ressemble au Roi! Alors vous auriez à condamner toutes les caricatures dans lesquelles pourrait se trouver une tête étroite du haut et large du bas!567

The sketch from the trial was published on 24 November, ten days after the trial. As Le Men points out, the original sketch from the trial was probably different to the one published in La Caricature.568 The speech that Étienne Blanc, Philipon’s lawyer, gave during the trial was also published in La Caricature, on 17 November 1831. In it, Blanc argued that the two caricatures were attacks on “power” through the appearance of the king and that they did not attack the king in person. The caricatures attacked the representation of the king’s power. “Est-ce outrager la personne du roi que d’emprunter sa ressemblance pour représenter le pouvoir?”, Blanc asked the jury.569 As a result of the many seizings, trials and fines, the oppositional caricaturists began to depict Louis-Philippe from behind, so as not to show his face. The caricaturist could then argue that it was not the king who was being portrayed, since his face was not depicted. However,

565 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 53. 566 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 54. 567 Cited in Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 55-56. 568 Le Men, “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”, 57. 569 La Caricature, 17 November 1831. 219 one could immediately understand that it was the king who was being portrayed, based on some of his characteristic features such as his hair, his sideburns and his body form, and through his “bourgeois” Citizen-King clothes, like his top hat, his frock coat and sometimes an umbrella. The lithograph by “Jean” from La Caricature in 1833 illustrates how Louis- Philippe was often portrayed (illustration 52).

52. La Caricature, 31 January 1833

La Charge’s caricaturist also chose to depict Louis-Philippe from behind, also wearing the clothes of the Citizen King – in a very similar manner to La Caricature’s depiction. La Charge’s choice to depict the king with “bourgeois” clothes may have been a way of portraying him as close to the people, as “the Citizen King”. However, the fact that the caricaturist never showed Louis-Philippe’s face could also have been caused by fear of prosecution – which in

220 theory could affect any journal of any political affiliation. Even though La Charge was defending the king and his government, it was probably following the same “guideline” as the opposition. Another explanation could be that La Charge feared that it would be further accused of being “bought” by the government if it took the liberty of portraying Louis- Philippe’s front, as if it were exempt from prosecution. As La Charge proclaimed in its first issue, it sought to emphasise that the journal’s function was not to defend the king and the monarchy uncritically. Maybe this can be understood as self-censorship, so to not be accused of being in alliance with the government. As I have mentioned earlier, La Charge was essentially anonymous; the “gérant” of the journal did after all only sign with the name “Bellair”, which does not reveal the true identity of the person. La Charge’s caricaturist(s) was/were also anonymous, and the caricatures were only signed with initials.570 This strategy of anonymity resembles the tactics used by oppositional newspapers during the Ancien Régime or even during the Restoration period. Why choose this anonymity when you are on the state’s “side”? One reason could be that the contributors had connections with the government in some way, which would explain why they wanted to hide their affiliations, in order to sustain their “objectivity” as a non-partisan journal. Another reason could be that some of the contributors were also working on other journals, which was quite common at that time – especially for caricaturists. If a person was affiliated with a pro-governmental journal, he would risk being marked out as “pro- governmental” and therefore excluded from the oppositional press, consequently suffering economic disadvantage. However, this is a hypothesis, since neither the caricaturist nor the editor expressed the reasons behind their anonymity. La Charge’s portrayal of Louis-Philippe is strikingly similar to the opposition’s, as illustrated in the following image – a cropped section from the caricature of the “Poiricide”571 (illustration 53).

570 As I explained in Chapter 1, the signature would suggest that it was Michel Delaporte, since the initials that were used were usually MDP, DMP, PMD, or something along those lines. 571 The full-scaled caricature can be found on page 32, illustration 2. 221

53. La Charge, "Le Poiricide" 11 November 1832

What would explain these similarities? La Charge probably had no problem showing Louis- Philippe as the Citizen-King, as I have argued. It is therefore not contradictory to portray him without his regal clothes. However, La Charge may have found it difficult to portray Louis- Philippe from behind and have their readers understand who was depicted. This could explain why La Charge’s Louis-Philippe is drawn in the same way as La Caricature’s king. La Charge’s caricaturist had to play with the same references and visual codes that Philipon and his colleagues had set out. Here, the New Censorship Theory, which focuses more on “practices and structures that shape the form and content of communication”, rather than “repressive force, concerned only with prohibiting, silencing, and erasing” can be helpful for understanding La Charge’s reasoning and position.572 Many scholars have investigated the censorship of caricatures from the state perspective in 1830s France, which is reasonable given that the censorship laws

572 Matthew Bunn, “Reimagining Repression: New Censorship Theory and After”, History and Theory, 54 (2015), 25-44. https://doi.org/10.1111/hith.10739 (accessed 5 October 2018)

222 changed dramatically in this period – from a very liberal censorship law to a restrictive one which affected caricatures especially.573 Focusing on state censorship is also clearly important in order to describe how the opposition was targeted by laws and confiscations. What is interesting and different about the case of La Charge, however, is that the journal supported the king, the government and, as I have exemplified in this chapter, even the censorship laws that targeted the caricature. Even though censorship of caricatures also affected it in some ways, the most interesting aspect, I believe, is La Charge’s strategy of censoring itself in relation to the other satirical journals. As Matthew Bunn describes the New Censorship Theory: “Actors govern their behavior through measurement of their position within society, the strategies available for securing their goals, and the rules and norms of correct behavior.”574 How could La Charge position itself in relation to the other satirical newspapers? What were the strategies La Charge’s contributors used to communicate their message and statements? The strategy to “secure their goals” was probably dictated by the norms set out by the oppositional press: how to use caricatures, how to portray certain ministers, how to portray the king – Philipon and his colleagues had set all of these “norms” to be followed. La Charge’s relationship with the caricature medium was complicated.575 Since La Charge was so critical of how the opposition used caricatures, it had to act accordingly, by criticising caricature as a medium. Yet, the caricatures in La Charge bear many of the same features, symbols and references as Philipon’s journals. The question one may ask oneself is: did La Charge censor its own caricatures in order to seek out the same public as Philipon’s? Or was it simply that the journal “had no other choice” than to follow La Caricature, since it had positioned itself as its opposition? Philipon’s two journals were undoubtedly the most popular and well-known caricature journals in the period of the 1830s. “The vast majority of the political caricatures produced in the early 1830s were drawn for, and appeared in, the illustrated newspapers owned and directed by Charles Philipon.”576 One can say that his journals had set a certain standard for how

573 Scholars such as Kerr and Fabrice Erre, and especially Robert Justin Goldstein, have all contributed to the history of censorship in France – and especially to the censorship of caricatures in the 1830s. 574 Bunn, “Reimagining Repression: New Censorship Theory and After”, 38. 575 As I have mentioned before, both Kerr and Erre comment on how La Charge used a medium it “hated”. 576 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 19. 223 caricatures functioned in France at that time. Even journals with opposing political intentions, such as the Legitimist Brid’Oison, were using the pear motif to refer to Louis-Philippe. La Charge’s contributors were not blind to the popularity of these caricatures; after all, La Caricature inspired the very existence of La Charge. It is therefore not too far-fetched to claim that La Charge imitated, primarily, La Caricature’s style and content – and followed the latter’s set of norms. La Charge followed the norm that Philipon had set out, and which the caricatures of Louis-Philippe exemplify. As Kerr explains: “All newspapers develop a collective identity which imposes certain obligations upon their contributors; the ideological and stylistic constraints imposed upon the contributors to Philipon’s newspapers were especially strong.”577 Furthermore, Kerr asserts that Philipon had invented “a new type” of satirical journal when creating La Caricature. It is therefore safe to say that Philipon’s journals had an immense impact on the satirical press during this period. Even though La Charge avoided mentioning the pear caricature and La Caricature explicitly,578 it did nevertheless refer to them indirectly – even creating its own “pear” to counter the opposition. Arguably, by avoiding mentioning the pear and La Caricature, but simultaneously trying to refer to them anyway, La Charge’s editorial staff yet again self-censored themselves.

6.9 CONCLUSION

The printed press, and especially caricatures, gained a more prominent position in French society after the July Revolution. This is the reason why scholars have referred to the period as the beginning of the “golden era” for caricatures in France. Even though it was still expensive to buy newspapers, the printed press was beginning to reach a different public than it had before. The press became highly politicised, and journals dedicated to political parties and political positions became more common. As I have demonstrated in this chapter, caricatures were not only part of the printed press, but also part of larger media flows.

577 Kerr, Caricature and Political Culture, 19. 578 There are a few mentions of the pear in some notes and of La Caricature in some caricatures, but overall, La Charge seemed to avoid mentioning them. 224

Caricatures circulated not only in print, but were part of the visual echoing in urban spaces, especially in Paris. The caricatures published in La Caricature and La Charge show how walls in Paris were covered with posters, many of them bearing satirical lithographs. The caricature thus engaged with the public; the public were not only readers of the journals but could also be people walking in the streets of Paris. What the graffiti tradition tells us is that there was a communication between the streets and the printed images. Some inscriptions influenced the press, while the pear caricature inspired the street artists and drawers. What I have argued in this chapter is that La Charge also took part in this rhetorical and communicative “game” with the opposition, not only by placing brioche symbols (and guillotines) as graffiti in the background of their caricatures, but also by insinuating that a baker had placed a brioche on a sign in front of his bakery. The journal also expressed a judgement of the press and the profession of journalism at the time. It accused the opposition of creating a “system of opposition”, which aimed to destroy public opinion rather than enlighten it. In a way, the editors of La Charge would probably have agreed with Habermas’ theory about the demise of the public sphere in the 19th century, although for different reasons. Where Habermas emphasised the mass culture, the commercialisation and the capitalisation of the public sphere as reasons for the demise, La Charge’s analysis was based on the hatred and violence that had become a part of the political and public arena. However, these two analysis do come to some of the same conclusion – which is that the rational-critical debate was at risk. What does this tell us about La Charge’s project? Although La Charge did seemingly seek to voice different political standpoints through satire and caricatures, because its political intervention was “opposition to the opposition” it is rather unclear who its intended public was and what it wished to express to this public. On the one hand, it seems as if the journal wished to represent the government’s interests by using the same rhetorical and symbolic method as the “opposition”. On the other hand, it also wanted to present itself as what it called a “virtuous indignation” against the opposition’s use of journalism and of caricature.

225

7. “LES FOLIES CONTEMPORAINES”: FROM

POLITICS TO CULTURE

The republican ideas that manifested themselves through the press were deemed dangerous because they could influence the readers and make them act. This, La Charge claims, was revealed “with evidence” after the attempted attack on the king in November 1832. As I discussed in the introduction, La Charge’s journalists’ reaction to the attack was to blame the opposition’s dominance in the press, but what I will argue here is that they also accused the influence of the popular culture at that time, especially as expressed through the Romantic Movement. Hence, La Charge used the caricatural language to intervene in the broader cultural developments in France during this period. I will argue that, from the symbolic-political battle over revolution, the people and the press in La Charge that I discussed in the previous chapter, we can see a battle over broader cultural developments; developments which nevertheless were also presented as having deep significance for the politics, society and future of France. French society in the 1830s experienced many changes – political, cultural and social – and respect for authority was challenged by the opposition. This challenge to authority can be illustrated by the pear caricatures of Louis-Philippe that flourished during this period. The opposition’s challenge to authority and its intervention in the public sphere at that time has been examined by many scholars, as I have discussed in earlier chapters, and has been the focal point of most research on the use of caricature at that time. Yet, what I believe my research can demonstrate is how and why the counter-oppositional press intervened in this context, and how they reacted to this domination of the public sphere. I will discuss in this chapter how La Charge consequently warned its readers, in the first issue of the journal, against what the editorial staff described as a “tendency” in French society and what the outcome and consequences of this tendency would be. La Charge’s contributors warned against a form of anarchism that was ravaging French society. Erre also observes this about La Charge, and argues that this pessimistic view on the society was shared by other satirical journals: “La société est d’abord menace par la décadence. La perte des

226 valeurs et du goût, victims de la division de la nation, est une evidence que personne ne conteste. L’idée de progress paraît incompatible avec l’époque.”579 Socialist ideas were being developed during the 1830s and a working-class mentality was taking form, which La Charge seemed to apprehend. The Saint-Simonian movement and early “socialist” thinking were deemed both dangerous but also ridiculous by La Charge. The Romantic Movement on the other hand was, according to La Charge, “poisoning the minds” of the population. The anti-authoritarian tendencies had also manifested themselves in Romantic art, literature and theatre at the beginning of the 19th century.580 The dominant art during this period lacked moral standards, the outcome of “un siècle passablement vaniteux, qui se flatte à tous propos de valoir mieux que ses aînés; qui, pour le prouver, s’applique à détruire leurs plus belles œuvres, sans créer rien qui les remplace”,581 as La Charge explained. This was, according to the journal, merely the effect of a tendency in French society, a form of “decline”. La Charge calls this tendency an “égoïsme multiforme”: “Cet égoïsme multiforme présente un vaste ensemble de ridicules, souvent bouffons, parfois atroces, et bien faits pour exciter la bile d’un nouveau Juvénal.”582 In this final chapter, I will focus on La Charge’s attacks on and positions against two groups, or movements: namely the Romantics and the Saint-Simonians. Since its attacks on the republican movement are covered in other chapters of this thesis, I will not address them specifically in this chapter. I want to investigate how La Charge analysed its own time, the early 1830s, and why the editorial staff seemed to express a discontent, and sometimes fear, of certain groups’ influence on the French population. I will argue that these attacks were not only triggered by political beliefs but also by an anxiety related to the influence of popular culture. I argue that La Charge’s criticisms of the Saint-Simonians and the Romantics contain similarities, and that its arguments against them were grounded more on the fear of a certain culture and mentality than simply on politics. How did La Charge express this discontent and fear for the fate of French society? 1832, the year La Charge was established, was marked by events which were interpreted by the journal as a direct threat to society.

579 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part II, 192. 580 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 148. 581 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 582 La Charge, 7 October 1832. 227

As I have already mentioned, on 19 November 1832, an assassination of King Louis- Philippe was attempted. This was a major event that led to further increase the government’s fear of the groups that represented the rather vast “opposition”; may it be the republicans, the oppositional press, religious groups such as the Saint-Simonians, or Romantic literature and theatre. Political caricatures and the theatre were especially targeted by the government. The attempted assassination was also interpreted as a major incident in La Charge, an incident that proved how dangerous the outcomes of the hostility against Louis-Philippe could be. This, I argue, served as a catalyst which altered how La Charge started to treat its “enemies”. The republicans were the most obvious threat, but not the only one. The government reacted similarly to visual art forms such as caricatures and the theatre as they did towards the press. This can help to explain why La Charge reinforced its attacks on the press, and especially on the Romantic Movement, at the same time as the government did. The Romantic Movement’s art represented society’s potential decline, according to the authors of La Charge. The Romantics were “corrupting” the population’s minds with their “so- called good taste”. Kerr also notes this, however without mentioning La Charge, stating that the “Prefect of Police between 1831 and 1836 […] testified to the ingenuity with which the regime’s enemies had exploited the general turbulence of the early 1830s”. Kerr goes on to quote the Prefect of Police’s memoirs:

Une fièvre ardente agitait les esprits; un penchant effréné pour la nouveauté produisait incessamment la licence; toutes les voies semblaient bonnes aux novateurs: la presse, les associations, le théâtre, les émotions de la rue, les hérésies religieuses, tout devenait sous leurs mains des moyens d’opposition, des éléments d’anarchie.583

As already mentioned, La Charge’s impression was that the republicans were not the only ones posing a threat to French society. Threats were to be found everywhere, including in artistic and religious/philosophical movements. The 19th century was, according to La Charge, flooded by les fous contemporains, “the contemporary insane”, and those “insane” men were not only republicans, but everyone who it could classify as representing the “opposition”. La Charge’s classification of who their enemies were was vast and somewhat unclear. Almost everybody could, in their eyes, be a source of “corruption of France”. In what follows, I will focus on the

583 Cited in Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 148. 228 two groups which, after the republicans and the press, represented the journal’s main targets: the Saint-Simonians and the Romantics.

7.1 THE ROMANTIC THEATRE

French Romanticism can briefly be described as an intellectual, literary and artistic movement, active roughly between 1800 and 1850, that expressed a new interest in the Middle Ages, with influences from English and German literature (Shakespeare, Schiller, and Goethe for example). French Romanticism was in the beginning mainly expressed through the theatre, and later in literature and art. Many of the most prominent figures of the Romantic Movement started by writing theatrical plays; authors like Victor Hugo and Stendhal first entered the literary world through the theatre. Distinctive markers for Romantic plays and literature were an interest in historical events, and historical and gothic novels as a form of literature. The Romantic Movement was a reaction to Classicism and 18th-century Neoclassicism. This is how Hugo himself expressed the differences between Classicism and Romanticism in the famous introduction to his play Cromwell from 1827:

Voilà donc une nouvelle religion, une société nouvelle; sur cette double base, il faut que nous voyions grandir une nouvelle poésie. Jusqu’alors, et qu’on nous pardonne d’exposer un résultat que de lui-même le lecteur a déjà dû tirer de ce qui a été dit plus haut, jusqu’alors, agissant en cela comme le polythéisme et la philosophie antique, la muse purement épique des anciens n’avait étudié la nature que sous une seule face, rejetant sans pitié de l’art presque tout ce qui, dans le monde soumis à son imitation, ne se rapportait pas à un certain type du beau.584

According to Hugo, Romanticism represented modernity:

Et ici, qu’il nous soit permis d’insister; car nous venons d’indiquer le trait caractéristique, la différence fondamentale qui sépare, à notre avis, l’art moderne de l’art antique, la forme actuelle de la forme morte, ou, pour nous servir de mots plus vagues, mais plus accrédités, la littérature romantique de la littérature classique.585

584 Victor Hugo, Œuvres complètes: Cromwell, Hernani, Edited by Paul Meurice, Gustave Simon and Cécile Daubray, Volume 23, Tome 1 (Paris: Librairie Ollendorff, 1912), 14. 585 Hugo, Œuvres complètes: Cromwell, Hernani, 15. 229

Thus, Hugo challenged the codes and understanding of theatre. As theatre critic Charles de Rémusat wrote on 2 February 1832 in Le Globe: “Cromwell est l’expression fidèle du système dramatique de l’auteur. […] Il faut lui savoir gré de sentir la nécessité de rajeunir notre tragédie et d’oser risquer l’aventure. […] Le style de Cromwell est la première tentative sérieuse de renouvellement du langage tragique.”586

This did not please La Charge, which had its own diagnosis of French theatre: “Les théâtres tombent dans le marasme. Toutes les extravagances romantiques n’ont pu les guérir. Il semble que l’année 1833 soit destinée à les voir périr, jusqu’à ce que le bon gout parvienne à les ressusciter.”587 Why would La Charge attack the theatre? According to historian David S. Kerr, the theatre was, after the press, one of the most important arenas for public opinion during the period of the July Monarchy: “the popular theatres attracted a lower-middle and working-class audience which did not read newspapers regularly”.588 The theatre genre of vaudeville589 and the caricature, Kerr says, grew closer to each other after the July Revolution because they both sought to “capitalize on the public’s increased appetite for current events”.590 The theatre in the 1830s was a place where people gathered and where they could enjoy not only entertainment but also light and warmth, as these were luxuries that the majority of Parisians could not afford.591 Historian Jean-Claude Yon states that Paris in the 18th century had experienced what he calls a “théâtromanie”, meaning that the theatre had become widely popular for Parisians. However, he argues, it was not until the 19th century that Parisians experienced a “dramatocratie”, which Yon argues was a result of the French population becoming citizens after the Revolution in 1789.592 The theatre became more available to all

586 Cited in Œuvres complètes: Cromwell, Hernani, 480. 587 La Charge, 13 January 1833. 588 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 180. 589 The vaudeville was a type of theatre entertainment that developed at the end of the 18th century and became especially popular in the 19th century. “VAUDEVILLE se dit plus ordinairement d'une pièce de théâtre où le dialogue est entremêlé de couplets faits sur des airs de vaudeville ou empruntés à des opéras comiques. Faire un vaudeville. Jouer un vaudeville. On a mis ce sujet en vaudeville. Le théâtre du Vaudeville, ou elliptiquement, Le Vaudeville. Vaudeville final, La chanson en plusieurs couplets qui termine les pièces de ce genre, et dont chaque personnage chante un couplet.” Le Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, sixth edition, Tome 2 (1835). 590 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 183. 591 Yon, Jean-Claude, Théâtres parisiens: un patrimoine du XIXe siècle (Édition Citadelles & Mazenod, 2013), 12. 592 Yon, Théâtres parisiens: un patrimoine du XIXe siècle, 13.

230 citizens during the 19th century and Parisians in particular gained access to a variety of new theatres where they could stay and be entertained. The July Monarchy was aware of the theatre’s position in the public’s affection and began to fear it, because, similarly to the caricature, the theatre was used as a way to express disappointment with the outcome of the July Revolution and with the government.593 Historian Robert Justin Goldstein argues that “since before about 1870 most Europeans were illiterate and compulsory education was in its formative stages, the theatre was widely regarded as the single most significant source of information, at least in urban arenas, for a large percentage of the population”.594 Furthermore, Odile Krakovitch claims that “Le peur des conspirations, le souvenir de l’attentat de Fieschi, la conscience d’un régime peu sûr de lui parce qu’installé dans la violence, font des révolutions et coups d’état, sujets pourtant fort à la mode chez les romantiques, des thème suspects.”595 Similarly to how the government started to treat the caricature, the theatres also became victims of censorship and penalties. The “September Laws” of 1835, which formally re- introduced prior censorship, began targeting both caricatures and the theatre through the same laws.596 The theatre and the caricature were seen as equally problematic popular genres and were thus treated in similar manner by the government. Before the September Laws, the government was forced to work around the declaration of the freedom of the press from 1830 and managed to censor caricatures and plays by interpreting them as actual physical threats to the king. Between 1835 and 1847 however, after the introduction of the September Laws, it became easier for the government to censor. In this period, over 48 per cent of theatre material was forbidden due to “overtly political reasons”.597 The government’s fear and disapproval of some of the Parisian theatres is probably the reason why La Charge in 1832 wrote about the theatre, stating that: “Les théâtres sont toujours

593 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 180. 594 Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, 114. 595 Odile Krakovitch, “Les romantiques et la censure au théâtre”, Romantisme, 38 (1982), 37. https://www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1982_num_12_38_4573 596 Robert Justin Goldstein, Out of Sight: Political Censorship of the Visual Arts in Nineteenth-Century France (Yale: Yale University Press, 2012), 16. 597 Goldstein, Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth-Century Europe, 118.

231 malades; il n’y a peut-être, en ce moment, que l’Opéra, les Italiens,598 et le Cirque Olympique,599 qui soient en assez bonne santé. Pour le reste, c’est un vrai marasme. Les Français meurent d’un romantisme rentré.”600 What can explain this contempt towards certain theatres? In 1791, a decree stated that all citizens had the right to establish public theatres where they could perform plays of different genres. This caused many new theatres to be established. The theatres in Paris were divided into two main categories. The prestigious Opéra, Théâtre- Français and Odéon represented the ones that were subsidised by the government. The Opéra was one of the most respected theatres at that time and it was also whee the “grand opéras” took place.601 According to La Charge’s point of view, the Opéra was still a decent theatre. The others were private theatres that were dependent on income from theatregoers, and these were the theatres that La Charge had diagnosed as “dying of an ardent romanticism”. The Théâtre-Français, which had been one of the privileged theatres, went through some changes in the 1830s as it was struggling financially. Isidore Taylor (1789–1879), government commissioner of the Théâtre-Français, was a supporter of the Romantic plays. He was the one who accepted Victor Hugo’s controversial play Hernani from 1830 to be staged at the Théâtre- Français. La Charge consequently criticises these changes at the Théâtre-Français, and its director, Taylor. To understand how controversial theatre could be at this time, it is important to understand the impact that the “bataille d’Hernani” had on French theatre and on the Romantic Movement throughout the 1830s. In the 1820s, a conflict surrounding the rules regarding the theatre took place in France, consisting of a split between the “Classicists” and the “Romantics”. The Romantics challenged the theatre genre by breaking with the principles, called “unities”,602 of Classical theatre, which the French Neo-classicists strictly followed. The

598 Meaning the Comédie-Italienne or Théâtre-Italien, which was merged with the Opéra-Comique in 1762 and mostly had a “bourgeois audience”. 599 A theatre that during the July Monarchy often performed plays celebrating Napoleonic tales. 600 La Charge, 28 November 1832. 601 Yon, Théâtres parisiens: un patrimoine du XIXe siècle, 22. 602 Unities, in drama, are the three principles derived by French classicists from Aristotle’s Poetics; they require a play to have a single action represented as occurring in a single place and within the course of a single day. These principles were called, respectively, unity of action, unity of place, and unity of time. (Encyclopaedia Britannica)

232 conflict about how theatre should be can be dated back to the 17th century and especially to the 18th century.603 Several quarrels about the theatre genre occurred before the 1830s; however, the conflict culminated with Victor Hugo’s play Hernani from 1830, which is said to “have marked the entry of Romanticism into the French theatre”.604 The conflict that occurred has been called the “bataille d’Hernani”, or “the battle of Hernani.” The “battle”, or rather “riots”, which took place surrounding the performance of Hernani was caused by different motives; it was the result of the Classicists’ reaction to the new theatre genres, but was also provoked by the political aspects of the play. Even before the play’s first performance, rumours circulated about some controversies in the play that led Parisians to believe that Hernani would be stopped after its first performance. Because of these rumours, people were fighting over tickets for the premiere. Hugo had invited his friends to sit in the audience so that his “enemies” would not heckle his play. Many of his friends from the Romantic Movement (such as Théophile Gautier, Gérard de Nerval, Hector Berlioz and many more) turned up. Consequently, they came to be known as “L’armée romantique” (“the Romantic army”). Hugo commented on the negative reactions to Hernani by stating that

La bataille qui va s’engager à Hernani est celle des idées, celle du progrès. C’est une lutte en commun. Nous allons combattre cette vieille littérature crénelée, verrouillée. Saisissons-nous de ce drapeau usé hissé sur ces murs vermoulus et jetons bas cet oripeau. Ce siège est la lutte de l’ancien monde et du nouveau monde, nous sommes tous du monde nouveau.605

For Hugo, the objections to his plays were reactionary and proved that those who made them were “against progress”. When commenting on Victor Hugo’s play Le Roi s’amuse from 1832, La Charge also by extension commented on the Hernani “battle” which had occurred before La Charge’s time. They claimed that the Théâtre-Français, where the Hernani play had been performed, had witnessed another “dazzling failure” after the performance of Le Roi s’amuse. La Charge labelled the latter play ironically as a “chef-d’oeuvre”, that was supposed to “kill the classic with a single blow” (which Hernani was said to have done):

603 Raymond Gay-Crosier, “Louis-Sébastien Mercier et le théâtre”, Études littéraires, 1 (1968/2), 251–279. https://www.erudit.org/fr/revues/etudlitt/1968-v1-n2-etudlitt2179/500023ar.pdf (accessed October 24, 2019) 604 Myriam Roman, “La ‘bataille’ d’Hernani racontée au XIXe siècle”, Qu'est-ce qu'un événement littéraire au XIXe siècle?, edited by Corinne Saminadayar-Perrin (Saint-Étienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint- Étienne, 2008), 125–26. 605 Cited by Roman, “La ‘bataille’ d’Hernani racontée au XIXe siècle”, 133.

233

Chute éclatante au Théâtre Français. Le chef-d’œuvre qui devait résumer à lui seul toutes les théories de la moderne école littéraire, le drame qui devait tuer le classique d’un coup d’assommoir; enfin, Le Roi s’amuse, enfant de prédilection de M. Victor Hugo, est tombé il y a trois jours aux Français. Le romantisme s’est suicidé; c’est le coup de pistolet de la révolte en littérature.606

In another article, La Charge’s journalist argues that “Sans tenir rigoureusement aux règles et aux formes de notre ancien théâtre, on peut exiger, au moins, du bon sens de la part de ceux qui veulent refaire notre poétique et s’ériger en réformateurs.”607 This was a commentary on the Romantic dramatic writers who, according to La Charge, wanted to reform and remake the theatre by challenging society’s mores. As theatre became more politicised, especially through the vaudevilles, the government began to react in the same way as they did towards the caricature. This meant that the government reacted with reprimands to the works that they found “dangerous”. La Charge’s disapproval of theatre plays was probably caused by the government’s stance against them. La Charge’s disapproval of satirical plays such as Victor Hugo’s Le Roi s’amuse was justified by the fact that they judged them as being an expression of the Romantic Movement and its “corruption of good taste”. For La Charge, Victor Hugo and the Romantic theatre’s growing popularity in French society proved that the French were being “corrupted”. The Romantics wanted to “corrompre la société”.608 La Charge called this not only a form of corruption, but also “a sort of propaganda”.609 For La Charge, the reason why the theatre was doing so poorly was that it had become dominated by “the Romantics”. This was not only interpreted as a threat to the theatre, but as an indication of how the Romantics were corrupting French society in general. This “diagnosis” turned into a conspiracy theory about the Romantic Movement. How did La Charge express this hatred towards the Romantic Movement and why did it interpret the movement as a serious threat to society?

606 La Charge, 25 November 1832. 607 La Charge, 2 December 1832. 608 La Charge, 14 April 1833. 609 La Charge, 5 May 1833: “une sorte de propagande”. 234

7.2 ANTI-ROMANTICISM

The main target of La Charge’s anti-romanticism stance was Victor Hugo – the “père suprême du romantisme”, as they called him. Le Figaro was also clearly against the Romantic Movement, which La Charge probably was inspired by. Le Figaro created a term for the romantics: the “Jeune-France”: “ces jeunes gens chevelus et exaltés, incoditionnels de Victor Hugo.”610 Although La Charge was inspired by Le Figaro’s anti-romanticism and its mockery of Victor Hugo, La Charge did produce the first identified lithographic caricature of Victor Hugo, 611 a caricature called “Hugoth” from 1833 (illustration 54).612 The text describing the caricature argues that since La Charge’s full title contains the sentence Folies contemporaines (which can be translated to contemporary “follies”, “madness” or “insanities”), this meant that the editorial staff had promised to make fun of everything that ought to be ridiculed. Le Figaro also published a caricature called “Les folies du siècle”, of which Philippe Régnier argues in Caricatures politiques that the word “folie” was a reference to Erasmus’s use of the word “folly” in In Praise of Folly (1509).613 Thus, La Charge’s subtitle could be translated to “contemporary follies”. Yet, when La Charge argues that Hugo is part of the “fous contemporains”, the journal seems to mean something more than Erasmus’s “folly”. In the dictionary from 1835, the word “folie” is described as a “démence, aliénation d'esprit”.614 Thus, La Charge’s use of “folie” has a double meaning, which refers both to Erasmus’s “folly” and to “insanity” as in a medical term closer to dementia and “alienation of the mind”. Furthermore, in a note titled “Petit dictionnaire à l’usage des partis”,615 which La Charge wrote as a dictionary for explaining the republicans’ use of certain words, the word

610 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789-1848, part II, 208. Erre states that the term “Jeune-France” evolved to the term “bousingot”. Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789-1848, part II, 91. 611 Ségolène Le Men, “Les portraits-charge de Victor Hugo”, Nouvelles de l'estampe, 85 (1986), 16–22. Georges Vicaire also noted this in 1894: “C’est, croyons-nous, la première charge de Victor Hugo.” Manuel de l'amateur de livres du XIXe siècle, 255. 612 La Charge, 27 January 1833 / 3 February 1833 (As I mentioned in the introductory chapter, the lithographic stone broke, so they had to publish it in the next issue). 613 Jean-Paul Clément and Philippe Régnier, Caricatures politiques 1829–1848. De l’éteignoir à la poire (Conseil Général des Hauts de Seine, Maison de Chateaubriand, 1994), 100. 614 Le Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, sixth edition, Volume 1 (1835). 615 La Charge, 24 February 1833.

235

“Raison” is followed by “Voyez Folies”, and the word “Folie” is followed by “Voyez Raison”. This implies that the republican’s understanding of the word “reason” is the same as “madness” or “insanity”. An article published on 26 May 1833, titled “Statistique de la folie en Europe”, shows a statistic of the European countries and how many “insane” people they have. The article also refers to La Charge’s title: “Voici une statistique qui va comme un bas de soie à la Charge ou aux folies contemporaines. Statistique de la folie!”616 The article suggests that the political situation (primarily caused by the republicans) in France is the cause of the insanity:

Il est très rare d’observer des folies politiques. Cependant depuis les dernières commotions, on commence à en citer des exemples. On ne se figure pas l’influence que des événements politiques exercent sur le développement de la folie. On a observé […] que les révolutions qui ont tourmenté le pays ont chacune produit une série de fous. C’est ainsi qu’en France, […], depuis 1815, une série de fous dont l’histoire retracerait fidèlement les malheurs de 1815, la révolution de juillet, l’apparition du choléra et même des journées des 5 et 6 juin.

La Charge had until then mainly focused on the most “serious insanity” (la plus grave des folies), as they called it, which was the republicans. This most serious insanity was the one that most directly compromised France’s “social interests” (intérêts sociaux). It was the one that constantly tried to disrupt the established order and always for the benefit of ambition and intrigue, according to La Charge. This was not only meant to implicate the republican movement, but also the oppositional press like La Caricature and Le Charivari.

616 La Charge, 26 May 1833. 236

54. La Charge 3 February 1833

Hence, the caricature of Victor Hugo brought into focus the “maître-fous”, “the insane master”, which “there isn’t a lack of in this century”, as La Charge concludes. The author of the article describes Hugo, or “Hugoth”, ironically as “the grand revolutionary of taste”, the “resurrector” of the one and only good true literature, who has brought down Racine, “like everybody knows”, and who has passed his “badine”617 through the body of Voltaire. Hugo, the author argues, is not an ordinary man; “he mostly consists of forehead”. The article continues to describe Hugo’s physique: “M. Hugoth n’est pas un homme ordinaire; surtout il a du front. Ses

617 A short, decorated switch or rod, carried by the fashionable in the 18th and 19th centuries. 237 admirateurs, qui admirent tout en lui, ont compté six pouces de la racine du nez à la racine des cheveux.” However, the author points out, “Il faut qu’ils se soient trompés dans leur calcul; car c’est six pieds de front que je luis trouve; et c’est dans cette immense capacité, dans cet énorme ‘laboratoire à pensée’ que réside son mérite.” La Charge’s caricature thus portrays Hugo with a disproportionately large forehead. Historian David S. Kerr explains the pear caricature with reference to Hugo’s head (however, without commenting on La Charge’s caricature explicitly):

With his pear-shaped head, Louis-Philippe was the very opposite of the romantic image of the artist or intellectual (conveniently epitomized by Victor Hugo’s bulging cranium); dull and materialistic, he imposed himself on the masses through brute force rather than through spiritual elevation.618

The pear caricature thus represents the opposite of the intellectual and “Victor Hugo’s bulging cranium”. This was possibly intentional from La Charge, although Hugo is never compared to the pear caricature. Nevertheless, the pear-shaped king as the opposite of the Romantic artist is an interesting idea, especially since the text explaining the caricature states that Hugo’s forehead hides his “laboratory of thoughts”, thus materialising his brain in the same way that Philipon materialised the king’s head. In a note at the end of the issue of 17 February 1833, La Charge writes about the caricature:

On assurait cette semaine que M. Victor Hugo avait éprouvé plusieurs atteintes de folie. Nous pensions que M. Victor Hugo ne pouvait être exposé qu’à des atteintes de raison. Quoi qu’il en soit, si son romantique cerveau a fini par se détraquer tout à fait, nous sommes presque fâchés de l’avoir prédit, en le mettant en tête de notre Galerie de fous contemporains.

La Charge not only diagnoses Hugo as stricken by insanity, but also analysis his “Romantic brain”, thus alluding to his and the Romantics’ deviancy.

One of the most intriguing parts of the caricature “Hugoth” is that Hugo is portrayed as a part of Notre-Dame, almost as a gargoyle decorating the cathedral. The name “Hugoth” was a play on Hugo’s fascination with the gothic, which was particularly present in his work Notre-Dame de Paris from 1831. It explains the reasoning behind Hugo being depicted as a part of Notre- Dame cathedral, the cathedral he had famously brought to life in his novel. What does the

618 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 169. 238 reference to the gothic and the Middle Ages tell us? Art historian Julie Lawrence Cochran explains that “a renewed interest in the Medieval era and in Gothic monuments was stirred by literary trends in the early nineteenth century, especially the writings of Walter Scott and Rene de Chateaubriand. After the July Revolution of 1830, France was in need of a sense of heritage that surpassed regime and ruler.”619 La Charge criticised the Romantic’s tendencies to refer to the medieval period: “Décidement nous revenons au moyen-âge. Grâce aux écrits des messieurs de la modern école, l’épée, la dague, et bientôt le stylet, redeviendront le meilleur argument à employer dans toute discussion politique, philosophique, astronomique et même orthographique.”620 Le Roi s’amuse, the play mentioned earlier, was one of Hugo’s most unsuccessful plays of all time. This became a running joke in La Charge, which made fun of Hugo’s failure:

Le tribunal de commerce, sollicité par M. Victor Hugo, plaidant contre le ministre des beaux- arts, afin d’être autorisé à outrager publiquement sur la scène française [Le Roi s’amuse], le bon goût et les bonnes mœurs, vient d’être renvoyé, par incompétence, à se pourvoir devant qui il voudra, et condamné aux frais. On dit qu’il va se pourvoir devant les tripots et lieux de prostitution de la capitale.621

The play, which was interpreted by the government as a critique of the July Monarchy, was prohibited in 1832. It was argued that the play was, in the same way as the caricatures of Louis- Philippe, a eulogy to the attempted regicide that had occurred the same year.622 Le Roi s’amuse is set in the 1520s and portrays a court jester, called Triboulet, from the court of King François I. Triboulet helps the king, who is portrayed as a womaniser, to get a new mistress. Rabelais’ Gargantua et Pantagruel was also interpreted at the beginning of the 19th century as a critique of King François I, and was used by caricaturist Honoré Daumier in his famous Gargantua caricature as a means to criticise Louis-Philippe. By referencing François I, Hugo’s Le Roi s’amuse thus contained similarities to Daumier’s Gargantua caricature. This understanding of

619 Julie Lawrence Cochran, “The Gothic Revival in France, 1830–1845: Victor Hugo’s Notre-Dame de Paris, Popular Imagery, and a National Patrimony Discovered”, Memory & Oblivion, edited by Wessel Reinink (Dordrecht: Springer, 1999), 393. 620 La Charge, 10 February 1833 621 La Charge, 6 January 1833. 622 Lise Sabourin, “Victor Hugo, Le Roi s’amuse”, Studi Francesi, 171 (2013): 626-627. http://journals.openedition.org/studifrancesi/2827 (accessed 8 March 2018).

239

Le Roi s’amuse can perhaps explain why Hugo’s play was censored, as it was considered as an attack on Louis-Philippe and as a reference to Daumier’s Gargantua. The political aspect of Le Roi s’amuse was not obvious and therefore raised the question of exactly why it fell under censorship. Although some plays had been forbidden and censored prior to Le Roi s’amuse, it was unusual for a play by the most famous author of the day, that was being performed on one of France’s biggest stages, to be censored.623 Forbidden plays were usually performed on smaller stages and written by unknown authors; this was often the case with vaudevilles and other popular theatre genres. By targeting Victor Hugo, the government was proving a point that not even the best-known authors could be excused for threatening the king and the government. Victor Hugo comments on the censorship in the first printed edition of the play, where he writes that the play had triggered an “outrageous act” by the government.624 He explains that he had received a note from the director of the Théâtre-Français, Isodore Taylor, on the day after the premiere of the play, which took place on 23 November 1832. The note stated that Taylor had been ordered to suspend the performance of the play Le Roi s’amuse: “Il est dix heures et demi, et je reçois à l’instant l’ordre de suspendre les représentations du Roi s’amuse. C’est M. Taylor qui me communique cet ordre de la part du ministre.”625 Hugo furthermore criticised censorship in the same manner as Philipon, by pointing out what the Charter of 1830 said about censorship, and by relating the art of theatre to the press and to lithography:

En effet, ce qu’on a appelé la charte-verité dit: ‘Les Français ont le droit de publier…’ Remarquez que le texte ne dit pas seulement le droit d’imprimer, mais largement et grandement le droit de publier. Oi, le théâtre n’est qu’un moyen de publication comme la presse, comme la gravure, comme la lithographie. La liberté du théâtre est donc implicitement écrite dans la Charte, avec toutes les autres libertés de la pensée. La loi fondamentale ajoute: ‘La censure ne pourra jamais être rétablie.’ Or, le texte ne dit pas la censure des journaux, la censure des livres, il dit la censure, la censure en général, toute censure, celle du théâtre comme celle des écrits. Le théâtre ne saurait donc désormais être légalement censuré.626

623 Laurent, Victor Hugo. Écrits politiques, 80. 624 Victor Hugo, Le Roi s’amuse, (Paris: Librairie d’Eugène Renduel, 1832), I : “L’apparition de ce drame au théâtre a donné lieu à un acte ministériel inouï.” 625 Hugo, Le Roi s’amuse, I–II. 626 Hugo, Le roi s’amuse, I-III. 240

7.3 THE GROTESQUE AND THE IMMORAL

In an article in La Charge from December 1832 called “Les dindons et les romantiques”, the journal says that it has received remarks from its readers that “they don’t seem to really like the Romantics”, to which it answers: “nous ne les aimons pas du tout; nous les regardons comme des charlatans effrontés, des révolutionnaires quand même, des corrupteurs de bon gout, des empoisonneurs moraux”.627 The author further states that to prove this point, he merely needs to mention the “vagabondage de leurs idées”, the “grossièreté de leurs peintures”, the “immortalité de leur but, le dégoûtant et l’atroce de leurs détails” and, lastly, the “cynisme qui est le cachet principal de tout ce qui sort de leur cerveau”.628 The Romantics are often referred to as “dindons”, or “turkeys”, in La Charge. In the Dictionnaire de l'Académie française from 1835 the word “dindon” is defined as a familiar word which figuratively means “a stupid man” or someone who is fooled.629 The French saying “Être le dindon de la farce” can literally be translated as “the turkey of the joke/stuffing” (a play on the double meaning of the word “farce”).630 The Romantics were like foolish birds and the most foolish of them all, according to La Charge, was Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo’s plays were described in La Charge as “fatras indigeste; œuvre de délire, où l’imagination sans règle et sans retenue, s’égarer sans cesse dans l’absurde, le niais, l’invraisemblable, l’horrible, et presque toujours le mauvais gout”.631 The journal criticised the Romantics for constantly wanting to describe the ugly and the immoral: “On a prétendu quelquefois que M. Hugoth et ses singes, dans leur marche rétrograde qu’ils appellent

627 La Charge, 20 January 1833. 628 Just as with the caricature of Hugo, La Charge mentions the brain of the Romantics as something deviant. 629 Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, Volume 1, (Paris: Firmin-Didot frères, 1835), 554. 630 The saying may originate from a play called Le Ballet des dindons that was performed from the 1790s until the 1840s, in which turkeys were placed on hotplates so that they started to “dance”, as entertainment in the fairs or carnivals. People were amused by the stupid-looking dancing turkeys. Claude Duneton, “D'où vient le dindon de la farce ?”, lefigaro.fr (2017): https://www.lefigaro.fr/langue- francaise/expressions-francaises/2017/03/24/37003-20170324ARTFIG00020-d-o-vient-le-dindon-de-la- farce.php. (accessed 21 October 2019) Duneton also suggests that caricaturists used the image of the turkey during the Restoration: “un caricaturiste exposa à Paris un dessin où l'on voyait des dindons épouvantés sortir par les portes du château, tandis que les fenêtres s'ouvraient à l'étage pour accueillir le vol glorieux d'un aigle... Loin d'être à la source de la locution, cette caricature laisse supposer que cette façon de parler était déjà courante à la veille des Cent Jours. Les Bourbons se trouvaient alors, en effet, les dindons de cette farce historique vouée au massacre.” 631 La Charge, 2 December 1832.

241 mouvement, nous ramenaient aux primitives représentations scéniques qu’on appelait, au XIVe siècle moralité. On s’est lourdement trompé; c’est immoralité qu’il fallait dire.”632 According to historian Elizabeth K. Menon, “Romanticism showed a burgeoning interest in the grotesque”.633 Victor Hugo wrote a famous analysis of the grotesque in contrast to the sublime in his introduction to the play Cromwell (1827), in which he explains that: “Nous dirons seulement ici que, comme objectif auprès du sublime, comme moyen de contraste, le grotesque est, selon nous, la plus riche source que la nature puisse ouvrir à l’art.”634 In this introduction he claimed that the reason why the grotesque was so interesting for a writer was that “Le beau n’a qu’un type; le laid en a mille”.635 The interest in the grotesque, was according to Hugo, a sign of modernity: “C’est une étude curieuse que de suivre l’avènement et la marche du grotesque dans l’ère moderne. […] De là, il se répand dans l’imagination des peuples nouveaux qui refont l’Europe.”636 Further on, Hugo states that the notion of the grotesque in antiquity was timid. In modern times, however, the grotesque had “an immense role”: “Il y est partout; d’une part, il crée le difforme et l’horrible; de l’autre, le comique et le bouffon.”637 “Il est vrai de dire qu’à l’époque où nous venons de nous arrêter la prédominance du grotesque sur le sublime, dans les lettres, est vivement marquée,”638 he argues – reinforcing La Charge’s claim about the Romantic Movement’s fascination with the grotesque. Historian Elizabeth C. Childs explains how François Rabelais (1494–1553) became widely popular in the first half of the 19th century, as evidenced by the nine (at least) editions of his complete works published between 1820 to 1840.639 Caricaturist Honoré Daumier’s caricature “Gargantua” from 1831, depicting Louis-Philippe as the giant Gargantua from Rabelais’ Gargantua et Pantagruel (1532–35), is one of the most famous caricatures from this

632 La Charge, 2 December 1832. 633 Elizabeth K. Menon, “The science of deformity: Mayeux le bossu and the romantic grotesque”, European Romantic Review, 7 (1996), 26. 634 Hugo, Œuvres complètes de Victor Hugo, 17. 635 Hugo, Œuvres complètes de Victor Hugo, 18. 636 Hugo, Œuvres complètes de Victor Hugo, 19. 637 Hugo, Œuvres complètes de Victor Hugo, 16. 638 Hugo, Œuvres complètes de Victor Hugo, 20. 639 Elizabeth C. Childs, “Big Trouble: Daumier, Gargantua, and the Censorship of Political Caricature”, Art Journal, 51/1 (1992), 26–37, JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/777251

242 period. The caricature caused a trial for offence towards the king’s person and for arousing hatred and contempt of the king’s government.640 Romantic writers such as Hugo often referred to the character of Gargantua, which Child argues demonstrated that Gargantua had become “the archetypical glutton and the embodiment of material excess”.641 The rediscovery of François Rabelais’ works could be interpreted as a manifestation of the attraction towards the grotesque, Child explains. Daumier’s Gargantua caricature was obscene and offensive: not only does Louis-Philippe devour the bags of money that he is being fed, they also turn into excrement. La Charge was proud of not sinking “as low” as its opponents when employing caricatures.642 La Charge’s position against Victor Hugo and the Romantics was justified, in its opinion, by the fact that the Romantics did not express good moral values. Incest, suicide, infidelity, prostitution and so on were the subjects of entertainment in the Romantics’ plays, literature and art: “la manie de l’horrible et du dégoûtant, qui s’est emparée exclusivement de la plupart des théâtres, […] toutes les classes de la société affluent aux pièces à viol, adultère, inceste, assassinat, emprisonnement, avec tous les accessoires et enjolivements que comportent de pareilles scènes.”643 A few weeks later, La Charge continued: “L’adultère, l’assassinat, l’empoisonnement et le suicide, lieux communs des romans-taverne.”644 Its aversion to the Romantics’ portrayal of suicide can help to explain why La Charge repeatedly stated that French theatres were “committing suicide” by presenting the plays. As Krakovitch argues, the censors during the July Monarchy were “soucieux de l’apparance, du respect de l’ordre établi, et se préoccupent peu du fond. Comme dans la politique, leurs préoccupations religieuses rejoignent leur souci de préserver la morale. Leur attitude face au suicide, réalité quotidienne de l’époque […] reste très critique.”645 Although Krakovitch refers mostly to the period after 1835, I will argue that La Charge’s judgement of the portrayal of suicide in Romantic plays is similar to the censor’s reaction to suicide in the theatre a few years later.

640 Childs, “Big Trouble: Daumier, Gargantua, and the Censorship of Political Caricature”, 27–28. 641 Childs, “Big Trouble: Daumier, Gargantua, and the Censorship of Political Caricature”, 28. 642 La Charge does not comment Daumier’s Gargantua explicitly but describes the opposition’s use of caricatures as obscene. 643 La Charge, 17 March 1833. 644 La Charge, 31 March 1833. 645 Krakovitch, “Les romantiques et la censure au théâtre”, 42.

243

My analysis of La Charge’s judgement of the Romantic Movement and the theatre is that it was not only grounded on an aversion to Romantic art, but was an expression of a fear of the Romantics’ influence on the French population, a fear that the Romantics were destroying society’s mores. Erre notes that Le Figaro also displayed a dislike for the Romantic Movement: “Le Figaro a laissé l’image d’un ‘journal frondeur, batailleur, antiromantique, dépensant beaucoup d’esprit et de malice.”646 This descriptions suits La Charge as well, I will argue. For La Charge, the Romantics were not merely ridiculous. There is a deeper and much more severe reasoning behind La Charge’s opinions on the Romantics, and it appears to be a sort of diagnosis of society where the Romantics were interpreted as “moral poisoners”.647 Rather strangely, La Charge also categorised another group as part of the “insanities”, a group that seemingly did not have anything in common with the Romantic Movement: the Saint- Simonians, which I will discuss next.

7.4 SAINT-SIMONIANS AND THE “CONTEMPORARY INSANE”

The pre-socialist works of Henri de Saint-Simon (1760–1825) gained importance in the 1830s through the movement of Saint-Simonianism. It was Saint-Simon’s last work, Nouveau christianisme (“The New Christianity”) from 1825 that contained the most important doctrines of Saint-Simonianist thinking. His thinking can be described as a “natural religion”, therefore not as Christianity in a strict sense, even though Saint-Simon argued that his notion of Christianity was the basis of the religion. His interpretation of Christianity has also been interpreted as demonstrating atheistic thinking, and has therefore been labelled as a philosophy rather than a religion, perhaps because Saint-Simon prior to this work was not actually concerned with theology. Nouveau christianisme mainly treats Christianity as a sort of science: “Ce que Dieu a dit n’est certainement pas perfectible, mais ce que le clergé a dit au nom de Dieu compose une science susceptible de perfectionnement, de même que toutes les autres sciences humaines. La théorie de la théologie a besoin d’être renouvelée à certaines époques,

646 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part I, 151. 647 La Charge, 20 January 1833: “[…] des empoisonneurs moraux”.

244 de même que celle de la physique, de la chimie et de la physiologie.”648 Saint-Simon also used his work to demonstrate what have been called early socialist ideas:

Dieu a dit: Les hommes doivent se conduire en frères à l’égard les uns des autres; ce principe sublime renferme tout ce qu’il y a de divin dans la religion chrétienne. […] Or, d’après ce principe que Dieu a donné aux hommes pour règle de leur conduite, ils doivent organiser leur société de la manière qui puisse être la plus avantageuse au plus grand nombre; ils doivent se proposer pour but dans tous leurs travaux, dans toutes leurs actions, d’améliorer le plus promptement et le plus complètement possible l’existence morale et physique de la classe la plus nombreuse.649

Following the death of Saint-Simon shortly after the publication of Nouveau christianisme, his legacy was carried forward by a few disciples who had followed him. His most devoted follower was called Barthélemy Prosper Enfantin, who I briefly mentioned in the introduction. Enfantin declared himself both a messiah and a pope, and soon came to be known as “Père Enfantin” or “Père suprême Enfantin”. Saint-Simonianism then evolved to be regarded as a sort of sect. This is illustrated by a description of the Saint-Simonians as they were 1832, from a book written in 1859, where the author Hippolyte Castille describes them as 40 individuals with long beards “positioned in three symmetrical circles”. Furthermore, he points out that although beards at that time were not fashionable, the men did not seem crazy nor did they look like beggars.650 The description of their clothes points to the religious aspect: they had long “apostolical clothes”.651 The satirical journals regularly commented on Père Enfantin and his pope-like status. In La Charge, Enfantin is almost always named “Fanfantin”.652 The Saint-Simonian movement was regularly mentioned in both La Caricature and La Charge, and was one of the few topics the two journals agreed on. The Saint-Simonians were mocked and ridiculed for their political and philosophical ideas. La Charge and La Caricature’s judgement of Saint-Simonianism was that it conveyed impossible, unachievable and unwanted goals. The Saint-Simonians were

648 Claude-Henri de Rouvroy de Saint-Simon, Nouveau christianisme – Dialogues entre un conservateur et un novateur – Premier dialogue, (Paris, Bossange Père, A. Sautelet et Cie, 1825), Introduction. 649 Saint-Simon, Nouveau christianisme, Introduction. 650 Hippolyte Castille, Le père Enfantin, (Paris: Édouard Dentu, 1859), 6. 651 Castille, Le père Enfantin, 11. 652 The word “fanfan” was a diminutive of the word “enfant”, meaning “child”, and was often used by mothers or nursemaids. The name Enfantin also means “childlike” or “childish” in French, which is probably the reason why La Charge ridicules the name even more by calling him “Fanfantin”, from the word “fanfan.”

245 considered a dangerous sect that wanted to “change the world”. One of those goals, which according to La Charge was the most ridicule and naïve, was women’s liberation: “La femme libre”, as they mockingly called it. “Point n’est besoin que je vous fasse ici l’histoire de Fanfantin, de sa papauté, de ses capacités, de ses femmes libres, de sa communauté de sexe comme aussi de sa communauté de biens.”653 Within the Saint-Simonian movement, women felt that they lacked authority. This resulted in a group of women leaving the Saint-Simonian movement and creating a women’s journal called La Femme libre, although they still called themselves Saint-Simonians: “nous sommes Saint-Simoniennes”, they proclaimed in the first issue.654 The Saint-Simonian movement sought to propose alternative visions of gender and gender roles, which Amy Wiese Forbes explains like this: “To overhaul France’s violence and inegalitarianism with a program of sexual equality and emancipation of the poor, Saint- Simonians searched for an androgynous leader who would be half man and half woman.”655 Enfantin saw himself as incarnating the male half of this “union”, thus symbolically embodying the figure of the “Father of Humanitiy”. However, Enfantin lacked a “Mother”, and the Saint- Simonians began to look for one. The search for the Saint-Simonian “Mother” can explain why La Charge, in its caricature of “La femme libre”, used the title “La femme libre, elle est retrouvée” (“the free woman, she has been found”). The woman in the caricature, whom Enfantin has finally found, is portrayed as a chimpanzee disguised as a woman. Forbes has written about this particular caricature in her book The Satiric Decade (2010), where she explains that “its humour rested on its assertion that women were dissembling and not fully human, and men could be caught off guard by women’s hidden, animal-like nature”.656 She stresses that this caricature expresses hatred against women rather than against the Saint- Simonians. Enfantin is even trying to push the woman/chimpanzee away from him, which Forbes interprets as meaning the caricaturist is giving a solution to the Saint-Simonians: if they got rid of the “free women”, Saint-Simonianism would be a respectable group. I argue that although Forbes makes a fair point regarding La Charge’s portrayal of women, it nevertheless

653 La Charge, 24 February 1833. 654 La Femme libre. Apostolat des femmes, 1 (1832), 7. 655 Forbes, The Satiric Decade, 133. 656 Forbes, The Satiric Decade, 135. 246 conveys a strong hatred towards Saint-Simonianism, not only in this caricature but also in general, which should not be underestimated. I will argue that the anti-Saint-Simonianism that is expressed in La Charge is not just grounded on a hatred of the “free women”, or women in general; rather, this is merely a part of it. The Saint-Simonian movement and the Romantic Movement are often set side by side in La Charge. Barthélemy Prosper Enfantin is generally mentioned as the “Père Fanfantin” or “Père-suprême Fanfantin”, a play on his title “Père suprême Enfantin”, whereas Victor Hugo was regularly called the “Père-suprême du romantisme”.657 La Charge often mentions Enfantin and Hugo in the same articles and notes, as exemplified by this note from December 1832:658 “M. Victor Hugo, au tribunal, a été presque aussi sublime que M. Enfantin. Le père-suprème du romantisme et le père-suprème du saint-simonsime peuvent se donner la main.”659

657 La Charge, 23 December 1832: In this note they compare Victor Hugo, “le père-suprême du romantisme”, to Enfantin, “père-suprême du saint-simonisme”. 658 La Charge, 23 December 1832. 659 The French “se donner la main” can be translated as “to hold hands”, as in joining forces. It could also mean to help each other: “to give each other a hand”. 247

55. La Charge 24 February 1833

A caricature of Enfantin, called “Le Père Fanfantin”, was published in La Charge on 24 February 1833 (illustration 55). It shows Enfantin portrayed as a child (a mockery of his name: see note 578). He is depicted as wearing a baby’s bib and playing with his toys, which are a rattle in the form of his “free woman” with her feet on “morality” (she is “stamping on morality”, according to the description), a goblet for doing magic which he wants to use to “conjure” the world, a tambourine, a ball designed to look like the world, and some origamis 248 and spinning tops. This caricature was a part of La Charge’s “Galerie des fous contemporains”, the same “collection” that contained the caricature of Victor Hugo, which the author explicitly comments on in the description of the Enfantin caricature: “C’est pourquoi vous voyez ci-joint le portrait du célèbre Fanfantin, père suprême du saint-simonisme, comme le célèbre Hugoth est père supreme du romantisme.”660 The description also states that “[…] des publicistes d’un talent incommensurable se chargent de refaire notre politique; des écrivains tout aussi étonnans [sic] entreprennent de refaire notre morale, et des hommes bien plus miraculeux encore se sont inoculé la mission de refaire notre religion”. Meaning that the journalists, the Romantic authors and the Saint-Simonians wanted to remake the world according to how they wanted it to be, as if they were conspiring together. In 1832, an article was published describing the state that France was in that year, according to La Charge:

Certes, l’état social est bien portant en France! La religion est morte; la morale publique, reflet nécessaire des mœurs privées, va se dégradant chaque jour. […] la littérature de livres et de théâtre n’est plus qu’une corruption; enfin, de même que nous avons plus de croyances religieuses, nous avons perdu toute croyance politique, tout respect pour les principes conservateurs, seule sauve-garde des États. Nous voilà donc réduits, en politique comme en religion, au matérialisme pur.661

7.5 MUSEUM DE 1933

A caricature from 1833 called “Museum de 1933” shows objects exhibited in a room that represent the “insanities” that La Charge has warned against, or rather the “débris de tant de Myrmidons662” as it says in the caricature (illustration 56). Although the museum exhibits “insanities”, the portraits from the “gallery of contemporary insanities”, Hugo and Enfantin, are strangely enough not exhibited in the museum. The museum depicted in the lithograph resembles a cabinet of curiosities. Cabinets of curiosities date back to the 16th century and were used to gather and exhibit both real and

660 La Charge, 24 February 1833. 661 La Charge, 9 December 1832. 662 A member of a warlike Thessalian people whom, according to a Homeric story, Achilles led to the siege of Troy. The term came to be used to mean a hired ruffian or unscrupulous subordinate; “myrmidon of the law” is recorded as a derogatory term for a police officer or a minor administrative legal official. 249 artificial objects. The objects had often been collected on voyages to distant countries. After the Revolution, the different collections from the cabinets in France were distributed and integrated into museums, to make them more accessible to the public. The cabinets were also used to understand nature and the world by gathering objects from nature. The article accompanying the caricature states that: “les savans [sic] découvrent à tout instant, avec ou sans microscopes, des espèces différentes, des variétés nouvelles, d’êtres qu’on ne connaissait pas encore, et que Buffon ni Cuvier, par conséquent, n’ont pu classer du Museum du jardin des Plantes.” What we see in the “Museum of 1933” are the new “discoveries” that have not been placed at the Museum du jardin des Plantes. The author of the article writes that there are not enough rooms to exhibit all “these new objects” from 1833 in the Jardin des plantes, which is the botanical garden in Paris where the French National Museum of Natural History is located. Objects of natural history were (and still are) exhibited in this museum. Hence, the author claims, a new exhibition was created at the Petites-Maison, which was an insane asylum in Paris, dating back to 1557. The objects representing the “insanities” from 1833 would then be exhibited in this asylum in 1933. Erre notes that the motive of asylums, or hospitals that received mental patients, was popular in caricatures from the 1830s, “le principe de la folie agit ainsi comme une sorte de lien logique dans la géographie satirique, nécessairement décalée par rapport à la réalité”663 The new museum location had been created in 1833 but would not open until 100 years later, the article in La Charge explains. This exhibition would contain “une foule d’êtres bizarres ou monstrueux qui dans cent ans seront certainement fort curieux à voir”.664 The article states that in the year 1933, all of the objects would be considered as “curiosities” that had gone extinct. The article states: “Je me figure qu’un étranger qui viendra visiter, au siècle prochain, 1er Museum de 1933, sera bien ébahi.” The caricature contains many objects that refer back to other caricatures or terms used in La Charge, for examples the “bousingots”, who are symbolised by the newspapers written on “papier venin”.665 We can also perceive a brioche on a shelf, underneath two small bags

663 Erre, L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789–1848, part II, 142. 664 “A crowd of strange and monstrous beings who a hundred years from now will certainly be curious to look at.” 665 This is a reference to the caricature that I discussed in the previous chapter (illustration 48), called “L’écritoire de l’opposition”, in which the journalist is depicted as writing on “papier venin”. 250 representing “l’âme des Emeutiers”: “Voyez plus bas le bonnet de la République changé en brioche, tout en conservant sa forme exacte. C’est le 5 et 6 juin, il y a cent un an, qu’elle fut mise au four; soit qu’elle y restât trop long-tems, soit qu’il la fit trop chaud, elle fut tellement roussie qu’elle ne fut pas mangeable.” Another object is a jar containing a toad with the description “Génie du Romantisme” written underneath it, and the label “Immundus Crapautus” (a “Latinisation” of the French “Immonde Crapaud” meaning “Disgusting toad”). In the Dictionnaire de l'Académie française from 1835, the definition of the word “crapaud” does not only refer to the animal, but suggests that it could also be used to describe “un petit homme fort laid”.666 The toad was supposed to show the grotesqueness of Romantic ideas, literature, and art.667 In the big glass container is the character Mayeux, a figure often used in the oppositional press to represent the bourgeoisie’s flaws, who in the article is called the “prototype de cette admirable époque; Mayeux l’imprudent et l’impudique, le philosophe des égoûts et la politique des coupe- gorges”.668 An apple bearing the inscription “HV”, which are King Henri V’s initials, is placed on the shelf over the toad. The text underneath the apple says “Pomme de discorde” (“apple of discord”). An apple of discord was usually an object or topic which sowed anger and

666 Le Dictionnaire de l'Académie française, 6th edition, Volume 1 (1835). 667 It is interesting that the “crapaud” was a poem by Hugo, titled Le Crapaud, which La Charge also seemingly mentions in an article published on 10 February 1833: “[…] c’est dans le titre que se déploie surtout l’essor d’un génie inventif. Le Crapaud, les Deux Cadavres, sans compter la Quinquengrogne que nous promet M. Hugo; voilà des titres heureux! Voilà de quoi allécher le public!” Yet, the poem Le Crapaud was published in La Légende des siècles in 1859, many years after it was mentioned in La Charge. The note does indicate that these were titles that Hugo had announced, and that were not yet published. The reference in La Charge could also be to the novel titled Le Crapaud. Roman espagnol, written by Félix Davin (1807–1836) and published in 1823, and not to Hugo. Furthermore, the novel Les Deux Cadavres that La Charge attributes to Victor Hugo was in reality written by the novelist Frédéric Soulié (1800–1847). What does this mean? One theory could be that La Charge attributed every novel that they deemed as “Romantic” or bad to Hugo, since they had categorised him as the “supreme father of romanticism”. That way, Hugo would always be “guilty” of either influencing other authors or appropriating works from other people. 668 The writer also compares the character Mayeux to the Apollo Belvedere. A French print, dating from 1809 or 1810, called “Gradation de la tête de grenouille jusqu’au profil d’Apollon d’après les idées du céléble Lavater” was inspired by Lavater’s writings and the prints published in his works. The print consists of 24 profiles illustrating the gradual transformation of the head of a frog into that of the Apollo Belvedere. Le Charivari wrote in 1835 that “Lavater was able to calculate instinctively, when he showed how few transitions are necessary to transform the profile of a frog into the magnificent profile of the Apollo Belvedere, which is, they say, the ideal of beauty.” Apollo Belvedere was frequently described as portraying ideal beauty in scientific works from the 18th and 19th century. It is therefore not surprising that the caricaturists also referred to it, and contrasted their caricatured men with the ideal beauty of Apollo, which the opposition also did.

251 dissension; something which caused argument, rivalry, or strife. Kerr suggests that La Charge tried to popularise the symbol of the “pomme de discorde”669 in “response to Philipon’s pear before “seizing on the resemblance between the Phrygian bonnet” and the brioche.670 Yet, apart from the first caricature of 7 October 1832, and the last, I have not found the apple used in any other caricatures. Kerr’s argument might be that it would make sense for La Charge to use an apple to counter the symbol of the pear; however, why would it use a symbol that referred to Henri V? There are also several objects illustrating Saint-Simonianism, like the vestment hanging in the middle of the back wall. The name “Le Père” is placed under the collar of the shirt. The label pinned on the vestment says “Défroque du P. Enfantin”, meaning “P. Enfantin’s castoff”. Defrocking signifies the act of excommunication, meaning that a priest is deprived of his status. The word “defrock” can also literally mean the removal of religious vestments, which is the case with Enfantin’s vestment hanging in the museum. Republican symbols are also present in the exhibition, such as the “Nouveaux bonnets de la République”, the Phrygian caps that La Charge turned into a brioche. All these objects represent something that will be extinct in 1933, as the article describing the caricature states: “c’est ainsi que les beaux esprits retournaient aux vieilleries, au gothique, au moyen âge, et redevenaient bêtes à faire plaisir. Là, à vos pieds, dans ce vaste tombeau, git le bon sens du XIX siècle…”671 At the bottom of the caricature, there is a tomb bearing the inscription “Ci git Le Bon Sens du 19e siècle”. The expression “Bon Sens” can be translated as “good sense”; however, it was also the title of a republican journal that lasted from 1832 to 1839, which was often mentioned in La Charge. I interpret the tomb as being the conclusion of the caricature: that all the items which are exhibited represent ideas and a culture that have died and gone extinct.

669 The “pomme de discorde” was also used in a caricature featured in Le Figaro and mentioned in this chapter, called “Les folies du siècle”. This would suggest that La Charge’s caricaturist drew inspiration from Le Figaro. Jean-Paul Clément and Philippe Régnier, Caricatures politiques 1829–1848. De l’éteignoir à la poire, 99–100. 670 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 174. 671 La Charge 30 June 1833. 252

56. La Charge 30 June 1833

7.6 CONCLUSION

La Charge wrote that “tous ces gaillards là672 ont un droit incontestable à entrer dans notre Galerie des fous contemporains”. What I have focused on in this chapter is what La Charge called “insanities”, best illustrated by the two caricatures that are part of this “gallery”, as they termed it. If La Charge had continued publishing, we would perhaps have had other examples

672 Meaning Hugo and Enfantin, but also the others who represent the “insanities”, according to La Charge. 253 of what they perceived to be “insanities”. However, the only two examples, at least in the form of lithographs, are the ones of Hugo and Enfantin. The “insanities” that I have presented in this chapter were understood as highly damaging to French society, according to La Charge. The republicans and their political motivations were threatening in an obvious, political, sort of way, but what seemed to concern La Charge’s editorial staff about the Romantic Movement and the Saint-Simonians was precisely the fact that they did not belong to any political party. The most frightening aspect about them was that they were corrupting the population with their ideas, which they disguised as artistic or religious in nature. Their ideas were fuelled by sexual depravities, by the ugly, the grotesque and the immoral, La Charge concluded. French society showed symptoms of diseases (such as insanity) which could be observed in the two movements and which could easily be represented visually, through the medium of caricature. This analysis of French society, as expressed in relation to different groups such as the Saint-Simonians, the Romantics, the republicans and the journalists (who ultimately are categorised as being the same in La Charge), all point towards society’s decline. The critique of the republican movement was a warning about where French society was headed. The ideas that came from these groups and movements led to violence and to anti-authoritarian tendencies: “Je le répète, le respect volontaire ou forcé, pour les lois et pour l’ordre de choses établi, est le seul remède à cette collision funeste qui tend à se perpétuer indéfiniment. Dieu veuille qu’une législation forte atteigne un jour le but sans lequel nous n’aurons jamais ni paix ni trêve.” 673 The caricature “Museum de 1933” is an example of how La Charge expressed a rather positive outlook of where society was heading in a hundred years’ time, despite describing a state of “decline” in the 1830s. Thus, there is a glimpse of hope in La Charge, suggesting that things could turn out for the better in future, which arguably could be understood as due in part to the possible impact of their own speech acts or symbolic interventions.

673 La Charge, 2 December 1832. 254

8. CONCLUSION

French caricature tradition has been almost synonymous with the critique of power. In the introduction of his famous book on the historical background to the art of caricature, Histoire de la caricature moderne (1865), Champfleury claimed that “la caricature n’est significative qu’aux époques de révolte et d’insurrection”.674 Even today, and especially after the Charlie Hebdo attacks in 2015, it is important to define the French caricature tradition. The tradition is often described as revolutionary and republican, although research in this field has also highlighted the very problematic aspect of the caricature as a stigmatising tool as well, for example racism and antisemitism in caricatures during the Dreyfus-affair in the late 19th century.675 The attacks in 2015 triggered several books and publications on French caricature tradition, such as La Caricature… Et si c’était sérieux? from 2015, which defined one of its goals as to “offrir à tous des clés pour comprendre la place du genre satirique dans la République, son rapport avec les pouvoirs et les religions”.676 We thus talk about a French caricature tradition that is rooted in republican ideas and in the Revolution, and we tend to use the theme of the Revolution as a thread in the narrative of the French caricature tradition. Charles Philipon stated himself that “notre dernière révolution a prouvé toute l’importance de nos dessinateurs”.677 The research on the period of the July Monarchy has especially emphasised the republican and radical side of the medium. La Charge does not in this sense “fit” the narrative of anti-authoritarian caricatures. In some way, La Charge can be viewed as a “weird case” and as an exception. However, I have argued, that does not mean that its contribution is not interesting or important to investigate. On the contrary, I have in this thesis argued that it is interesting precisely because it is perceived as an exception and as odd. The fact that researchers have dismissed the journal as government-

674 Champfleury, Histoire de la caricature moderne, viii. 675 See for example Bertrand Tillier, “Virulences verbales et graphiques au cœur de l’affaire Dreyfus : le Psst…! de Forain et Caran d’Ache”, Ridiculosa. Textuel et visuel, interconnexions entre textes et images satiriques, (6/1999): 183-198 and Pascal Ory, Christian Delporte, Bertrand Tillier, Laurent Bihl, Laurence Danguy, Marie- Anne Matard-Bonucci, Emmanuel Pierrat, Yannick Dehée and Christian-Marc Bosséno La Caricature…Et si c’était sérieux ? Décryptage de la violence satirique (2015). 676 Dehée, La caricature… Et si c’était sérieux?, 11. 677 La Caricature, “numéro modèle”. 255 sponsored has affected the way La Charge has been analysed. My research has therefore aimed at taking the newspaper seriously, as a valid voice in the context of the satirical press. I argue that the field of research into anti-oppositional caricatures during the July Monarchy has been lacking. Only four satirical newspapers published caricatures during the 1830s: La Caricature, Le Charivari, Le Figaro and La Charge. Half of them were oppositional and the other half were anti-oppositional. Yet, the majority of the research on the period’s visual satire has focused on the oppositional, while Le Figaro and especially La Charge have been almost neglected. What this dissertation has investigated is how La Charge attempted to fight the opposition, and how the journal can be understood as an intervention and as a serious speech act, as Quentin Skinner defines it, in the political and polemical context of the period. I have argued that one of the central ways La Charge opposed the opposition was through its engagement with the opposition’s use of symbols. The journal had to counteract the oppositional symbols and their influence on the French and especially the Parisian public. In the third chapter, I therefore investigated which symbols were present in caricatures at that time, and how La Charge appropriated existing, but contested symbols, to attack the opposition. The battle of symbols was based on a battle over the definition of those symbols, over who “owned” them and what they referred to. As I demonstrated, the contested symbols often had some immediate references to the revolution of 1789, which I argued could be analysed in the same way as contested symbols, inspired by Koselleck’s conceptual history. Louis-Philippe’s attempt to appropriate revolutionary symbols reflects the period’s understanding of the first revolution and the one in 1830. The question was: who had been responsible for the revolution(s) and who should benefit from it? As I showed in the chapter on “the people”, there was a need to classify who the people were and what they represented. These ideas and definitions were not only mirrored in the period’s caricatures, the caricatures in a way also defined, and symbolically created, the meaning of “the people”. The caricatures fought in a battle for the “right” definition of politically important categories, such as “the people”. Chapters 3, 4 and 5 demonstrate the struggle for definition of such categories in a rhetorical political visual language. I argue that the struggle over definition becomes especially apparent when we study it from La Charge’s point of view because the journal positions itself as an opposition to La Caricature. 256

After having discussed how the journals defined “the people”, the sixth chapter investigates how caricatures were used, and where and how they affected the public spheres and spaces. The lithographs depicting the streets of Paris show “the people” interacting with pamphlets, caricatures and symbols. This communication with the streets shows how easily symbols and images could be transferred to the urban spaces and to a public that could not afford newspapers. La Charge’s use of the brioche symbol thus shows an awareness of the pear caricature’s proliferation both in the written press and in the urban spaces. What I have discussed in this thesis are important aspects of the consequences of the boom of the press at the beginning of the 1830s. I have argued that La Charge was a product that was created by, and as a reaction to, the press’s advances and expansion, as well as the increasing politicisation of the public sphere. The establishment of the caricature as a medium became especially important in this period because it proved to have a certain power. Although David S. Kerr argues that the caricature’s political influence was only minor, and that the research has perhaps focused too much on the caricature’s influence on the political situation, I would argue that the creation of La Charge proves that the caricature was perceived as a powerful weapon in the political battle, a weapon that the journals used to fight various political views, but also a weapon that became the very apple of contention. One of La Charge’s arguments, which it presented in its first issue, was that the use of the medium could be done in a right way and a wrong way. La Charge’s editor Bellair argued that his motivation was based on a “virtuous indignation” that was triggered by the opposition’s use of the press and the medium of caricature. La Charge’s role in this debate was to mediate and to react on the opposition’s caricatures by using the same tactics, the same medium, in a morally righteous way. Had the caricature not had this influential status in French culture, the creation of an “anti-oppositional” journal would probably not have been needed. At least, I would argue that the pro-governmental journal would not have been connected to the oppositional journal to the extent that it copied it completely, if La Caricature had not been perceived as a threat. By imitating La Caricature, La Charge only served to emphasise its rival’s status as a powerful weapon against the July Monarchy. La Charge’s creation as a reaction illustrates how the French population was experiencing the caricature’s popularity and how this was affecting the public sphere. Kerr points out, in one of his few comments about La Charge, that: “by engaging in a battle of 257 caricatures with Philipon, the government effectively recognized the legitimate place of graphic satire within the public sphere and counteracted its own attempts to criminalize it through repeated prosecutions”.678 While I agree with this statement, I would furthermore argue that La Charge not only engaged in a battle with La Caricature, but that it sought to intervene in the public sphere, and ultimately to change what until now had been a field dominated by the opposition. What I have argued in this thesis is that La Charge demonstrates an attempt to use caricatures as an anti-oppositional medium at a time when, apart from Le Figaro’s brief attempt at doing the same thing, it was quite rare. La Charge’s attempt, and ultimate failure – since it did not last very long and did not have any significant impact – can tell us much about the caricature as a medium during the July Monarchy. The September Laws of 1835 reflected the government’s change in attitude towards censorship. The restrictions on the freedom of the press were significant, especially on a symbolic level. They showed the juste milieu’s failure in combining liberal ideas with a monarchic reign. Philipon’s “campagne de l’irrespect” must have been difficult for the king and his ministers to foresee and therefore to react to. The first reactions to the caricatures of Louis-Philippe probably motivated Philipon to “up his game”. The reaction to the pear caricature only contributed to the propagation of the symbol. This “game” between Philipon and Louis-Philippe, which has been labelled the “guerre de Philipon contre Philippe”,679 marked the early years of the July Monarchy, which only ended once the government made it impossible for Philipon to continue. The press and the caricature’s growth in the midst of all the political changes that happened during the early 19th century reflect a radicalisation of politics and society. Although most went “back to normal” after the first revolution and the first Empire, it was clear that the republican movement was still strong. The July Revolution has thus been perceived as a phase “in between” two more radical revolutions and changes of power: 1789 and 1848.680 La Charge presented a rather confused and chaotic time in its texts and caricatures, which the journal blamed primarily on the republicans, but also on cultural movements such as the Romantics,

678 Kerr, Caricature and French Political Culture 1830–1848, 177. 679 Robert Fohr, “Gargantua”, Histoire par l'image, http://www.histoire-image.org/fr/etudes/gargantua (accessed 4 November 2019). 680 Agulhon, “1830 dans l’histoire du XIXè siècle français”, 15. 258 as I discussed in the final chapter. The republican’s influence was visible everywhere, even in the theatre, in literature and in philosophical and religious movements such as the Saint- Simonians. Although La Charge’s critique of the opposition may be perceived as politically conservative and as moralising, its fears and doubts about the future of France were understandable. Some of La Charge’s contributors had perhaps witnessed the events of the 1789 Revolution and certainly its consequences. The fear of riots and insurrections was a real issue that the people of 1830s France were dealing with. La Charge’s contribution to the French caricature tradition may be minor, as few caricaturists, historians or art historians – both contemporary to La Charge and today – mention the journal much. Yet, I have argued that it is an interesting case to study. The journal tells us about the polemical and political function of caricatures in the public sphere and spaces during the July Monarchy. It demonstrates the use of caricature as a reaction and as an intervention in a debate where the visual expression of the caricature was on everyone’s mind. La Charge reflects both a society that was aware of the politicised public spaces and a government fearful of the republican movement. The journal expresses a perception of society as being pervaded by the republican movement – in the press, in the political movements, in culture and in religious and ideological trends. Its goal was to oppose this trend.

259

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Abélès, Luce. Le Gamin de Paris. Paris: Musée d’Art et d’Essai, 1985.

Agulhon, Maurice. Marianne au combat. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaine de 1789 à 1880. Paris: Flammarion, 1979.

Agulhon, Maurice. “1830 dans l’histoire du XIXè siècle français”, Romantisme. 28-29 (1980): 15-27. www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5340 (accessed 26 May 2016)

Agulhon, Maurice. Marianne au pouvoir. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaines de 1880 à 1914. Paris: Flammarion, 1989.

Agulhon, Maurice. Les Métamorphoses de Marianne. L’imagerie et la symbolique républicaines de 1914 à nos jours. Paris: Flammarion, 2001.

Albiès, Luce-Marie. “Caricatures et pamphlets politiques (1830-1835)”, Histoire par l’image. http://www.histoire-image.org/etudes/caricatures-pamphlets-politiques- 1830-1835 (accessed September 13, 2016)

Alexandre, Arsène. L'Art du rire et de la caricature. Paris: Librairies-imprimeries réunies, 1892.

Antonetti, Guy. Louis-Philippe. Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard, 1994.

Baár, Monika. “Heretics into National Heroes: Jules Michelet’s Joan of Arc and František Palacký’s John Hus”. Nationalizing the Past. Historians as Nation Builders in Modern Europe. Edited by Stefan Berger and Chris Lorenz. London: Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2010.

Baecque, Antoine de. La caricature révolutionnaire. Preface by Michel Vovelle. Paris: Presses du C.N.R.S, 1988.

Baridon Laurent, and Martial Guédron. L’art et l’histoire de la caricature. Paris: Éditions Citadelles & Mazenod, 2006.

Baudelaire, Charles. Curiosités esthétiques. Paris: Michel Lévy frères, 1868.

Bellanger, Claude, Jacques Godechot, Pierre Guiral and Fernand Terrour. Histoire générale de la presse française. De 1815 à 1871. Volume 2. Paris: Presse Universitaire de France, 1969.

260

Bellingradt, Daniel. “The Early Modern City as a Resonating Box: Media, Public Opinion, and the Urban Space of the Holy Roman Empire, Cologne, and Hamburg ca. 1700”. Journal of Early Modern History. Volume 12 (2012): 201-240.

Bonhomme, Marc. “La caricature politique”. Mots. Les langages du politique. Volume 94 (2010): 39-45. https://www.cairn.info/revue-mots-2010-3-page-39.htm (accessed April 19, 2019)

Brown, Marilyn. The Gamin de Paris in Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture: Delacroix, Hugo, and the French Social Imaginary. Abingdon-on-Thames: Taylor and Francis, 2017.

Bunn, Matthew. “Reimagining Repression: New Censorship Theory and After”. History and Theory. Volume 54 (2015): 25-44. https://doi.org/10.1111/hith.10739 (accessed October 5, 2018)

Burrow, John. A History of Histories. Epics, Chronicles, Romances and Inquiries from Herodotus and Thucydides to the Twentieth Century. London: Penguin Books, 2009.

Caron, Jean-Claude. “La Société des Amis du Peuple”, Romantisme, 28-29 (1980): 169-179. https://www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5349 (accessed May 12, 2020)

Carteret, Léopold. Le Trésor du bibliophile romantique et moderne. Volume III. Paris: L. Carteret, 1924.

Castille, Hippolyte. Le père Enfantin. Paris: Édouard Dentu, 1859.

Chauvaud, Frédéric. “Gavroche et ses pairs: aspects de la violence politique du groupe enfantin en France au XIXe siècle”, Culture & Conflicts. Volume 18 (1995): 21-33.

Chamond, Jeanine, Virginia Moreira and Frédérique Decocq. “Dénaturation carcérale. Pour une psychologie et une phénoménologie du corps en prison”, L'information psychiatrique. Volume 90 (8/2014): 673-682. https://www.cairn.info/revue-l- information-psychiatrique-2014-8-page-673.htm (accessed 18 June 2018)

Champfleury. Histoire de la caricature moderne. Paris: E. Dentu, 1865.

Charle, Christophe. Le siècle de la presse (1830 – 1939). Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 2004.

Charle, Christophe. “Julirevolusjonen i 1830 som historisk utgangspunkt”, Arr idéhistorisk tidsskrift (1-2 2008). Translated by Christine Amadou.

Childs, Elizabeth C. “Big Trouble: Daumier, Gargantua, and the Censorship of Political Caricature”, Art Journal. Volume 51 (1/1992): 26–37. www.jstor.org/stable/777251

261

Clément, Jean Paul and Philippe Régnier. Caricature politiques (1829 – 1848) De l’éteignoir à la poire. Conseil Général des Hauts de Seine, Maison de Chateaubriand, 1994.

Cochran, Julie Lawrence. “The Gothic Revival in France, 1830–1845: Victor Hugo’s Notre- Dame de Paris, Popular Imagery, and a National Patrimony Discovered”, Memory & Oblivion. Editor Wessel Reinink. Berlin: Springer, Dordrecht, 1999.

Cuno, James. “Charles Philipon and ‘La Poire’: Politics and Pornography in Emblematic Satire, 1830–1835”, Consortium on Revolutionary Europe, 1750-1850: Proceedings 1984. Edited by Harold T. Parker. Athens, Georgia: Consortium on Revolutionary Europe, 1984.

Cuno, James. Charles Philipon and La Maison Aubert: the business, politics, and public of caricature in Paris, 1820-1840. Ph.D. Thesis, Harvard University, 1985.

Dalisson, Rémi. Les Trois couleurs, Marianne et l’Empereur. Fêtes libérales et politiques symboliques en France 1815-1870. Preface by Maurice Agulhon. Paris: La Boutique de l’Histoire, 2004.

De la Motte, Dean and Jeanne M. Przyblyski. Making the News. Modernity & the Mass Press in Nineteenth-Century France. Massachusetts: University of Massachusetts Press, 1999.

Delporte, Christian, Vincent Milliot, Érik Neveu. “Présentation”, Mots. Caricatures politiques. Volume 48 (1996): 7-14. https://www.persee.fr/doc/mots_0243- 6450_1996_num_48_1_2096 (accessed June 30, 2017)

Dixmier, Michelle, Annie Duprat, Bruno Guignart and Bertrand Tillier. Quand le crayon attaque. Paris: Éditions Autrement, 2007.

Duccini, Hélène. “L’entonnoir”, Ridiculosa. Les prodédés de déconstruction de l’adversaire. (8/2001): 119.

Duneton, Claude. “D'où vient le dindon de la farce ?”, lefigaro.fr (2017): https://www.lefigaro.fr/langue-francaise/expressions-francaises/2017/03/24/37003- 20170324ARTFIG00020-d-o-vient-le-dindon-de-la-farce.php. (accessed 21 October 2019)

Duprat, Annie. Le Roi décapité. Essai sur les imaginaires politiques. Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf, 1992.

Duprat, Annie. “Le Roi, la chasse et le parapluie ou comment l’historien fait parler les images”, Genèses, (27/1997): 109-123. Edited by Florence Weber. https://doi.org/10.3406/genes.1997.1451 (accessed May 14, 2018)

262

Duprat, Annie. “Iconologie historique de la caricature politique en France (du XVIe au XXe siècle)”, Hermès, La Revue. Volume 29 (1/2001): 23-32. https://www.cairn.info/revue-hermes-la-revue-2001-1-page-23.htm (accessed March 6, 2018)

Duprat, Annie. “Confrontation des idéologies, confrontation des symboles. Charles Philipon, premier blasonnier de la meilleure des Républiques”, Ridiculosa. Les prodédés de déconstruction de l’adversaire. (8/2001): 230-231.

Duval, Guillaume. Les grandes dates de l’histoire économique et sociale de la France. Alternatives Economiques Poche, 69 (2004).

Eisenstein, Elizabeth L. Divine Art, Infernal Machine. The Reception of Printing in the West from First Impressions to the Sense of an Ending. Pennsylvania: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011.

Erre, Fabrice. “Le ‘Roi-Jésuite’ et le ‘Roi-Poire’: la prolifération d'’espiègleries’ séditieuses contre Charles X et Louis-Philippe (1826-1835)”. Romantisme, volume 150 (4/2010): 109-127. https://www.cairn.info/revue-romantisme-2010-4-page-109.htm (accessed August 7, 2017)

Erre, Fabrice. “Les discours politiques de la presse satirique. Étude des réactions à l’’attentat horrible’ du 19 Novembre 1832”, Revue d’histoire du XIXe siècle. Volume 29 (2004): 31-51. https://www.cairn.info/revue-d-histoire-du-dix-neuvieme-siecle-2004-2-page- 3.htm (accessed September 30, 2016)

Erre, Fabrice. “La caricature dans la mécanique de la presse satirique”, caricaturesetcaricature.com. http://www.caricaturesetcaricature.com/article- 35763942.html (accessed August 14, 2019)

Erre, Fabrice. “Provocations satiriques éphémères anonymes”. fabula.org. http://www.fabula.org/colloques/document2930.php (accessed March 4, 2019)

Erre, Fabrice. Le règne de la poire. Caricatures de l’esprit bourgeois de Louis-Philippe à nos jours. Paris: Champ Vallon, 2011.

Erre, Fabrice. L'arme du rire: la presse satirique en France 1789-1848. PhD thesis. Université Panthéon-Sorbonne, (OCLC 494776448), 2007.

Esler, Anthony. “Youth in Revolt: The French Generation of 1830”, Modern European Social History. Edited by Robert J. Bezucha. Lexinton, MA, Toronto and London: D.C. Heath and Company, 1972.

Fohr, Robert. “Gargantua”, Histoire par l'image. http://www.histoire- image.org/fr/etudes/gargantua (accessed 4 November, 2019)

263

Forbes, Amy Wiese. The Satiric Decade. Satire and Rise of Republicanism in France 1830- 1840. Plymouth: Lexington Books, 2010.

Gabaude, Florent. “Les animaux ailés dans les feuilles volantes”, Ridiculosa. Les animaux pour le dire. (10/2003): 97-114.

Gay-Crosier, Raymond. “Louis-Sébastien Mercier et le théâtre”. Études littéraires. Volume 1. (2/1968): 251-179. https://www.erudit.org/fr/revues/etudlitt/1968-v1-n2- etudlitt2179/500023ar.pdf (accessed October 24, 2019)

Goldstein, Robert Justin. Censorship of Political Caricature in Nineteenth-Century France. Kent: The Kent State University Press, 1989.

Goldstein, Robert Justin. Political Censorship of the Arts and the Press in Nineteenth- Century Europe. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989.

Goldstein, Robert Justin. Out of Sight: Political Censorship of the Visual Arts in Nineteenth- Century France. Yale: Yale University Press, 2012.

Guédron, Martial. “Physiognomonie de l’Autre : des caricatures de la nature à la ségrégation sociale”. Études françaises. Volume 49 (3/2013): 15–31. https://doi.org/10.7202/1021200ar (accessed June 28, 2019)

Green, Anna. French Paintings of Childhood and Adolescence 1848-1886. Aldershot, UK and Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2007.

Habermas, Jürgen. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. An Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Society. Translated by Thomas Burger. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1989

Hadjinicolaou, Nicos. ”’La liberté guidant le peuple’ de Delacroix devant son premier public”, Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, Volume 28 (1979): 3-26. https://www.persee.fr/doc/arss_0335-5322_1979_num_28_1_2637

Hatin, Eugène. Bibliographie historique et critique de la presse périodique française ou Catalogue systématique et raisonné de tous les écrits périodiques de quelque valeur publiés ou ayant circulé en France depuis l'origine du journal jusqu'à nos jours. Paris: Firmin-Didot frères, fils, 1866.

Hervé, Sarah. “Le Poiricide – Pæremordet. Karikaturstriden under Julimonarkiet i Frankrike”, Arr. Idéhistorisk tidsskrift. 2 (2018): 71-83.

Hugo, Victor. Le Roi s’amuse. Librairie Eugène Renduel, 1832.

Hugo, Victor. Les Misérables. Volume III. Paris: Albert Lacroix et Cie, 1862.

264

Hugo, Victor. Œuvres complètes: Cromwell, Hernani. Edited by Paul Meurice, Gustave Simon and Cécile Daubray. Volume 23, Tome 1. Paris: Librairie Ollendorff, 1912.

Jakobowicz, Nathalie. 1830: Le Peuple de Paris. Révolution et représentations sociales. Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2009.

Jakobowicz, Nathalie. “Les pratiques d’affichage dans l’espace public à Paris en 1830”, Revue d’histoire du XIXe siècle. Volume 39 (2009): 17-36. http://journals.openedition.org/rh19/3912 (accessed February 18, 2019)

Jaucourt, Louis de. “Peuple”, L’Encyclopédie. Volume 12. Paris: André le Breton, Michel- Antoine David, Laurent Durand and Antoine-Claude Briasson, 1751.

Kaenel, Philippe. ""Don Quichotte", Daumier Et La Légende De L'artiste." in Artibus Et Historiae 23, no. 46 (2002): 163-77.

Kerr, David S. Caricature and French Political Culture 1830 – 1848. Charles Philipon and the illustrated press. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000.

Knibiehler, Yvonne. “Une révolution ‘nécessaire’: Thiers, Mignet et l'école fataliste”. Romantisme, Mille huit cent trente. Volume 28-29 (1980): 279-288. www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1980_num_10_28_5355

Koselleck, Reinhart. The Practice of Conceptual History. Timing History, Spacing Concepts. Translated by Todd Samuel Presner and Others. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2002.

Koselleck, Reinhart. Futures Past. On the Semantics of Historical Time. Translated by Keith Tribe. New York: Columbia University Press, 2004.

Krakovitch, Odile. “Les romantiques et la censure au théâtre”. Romantisme. Volume 38 (1982): 33-46. https://www.persee.fr/doc/roman_0048-8593_1982_num_12_38_4573

Landes, Joan B. Visualizing the nation. Gender, Representation, and Revolution in Eighteenth-Century France. Cornell University Press, 2001.

Laurent, Franck. Victor Hugo. Écrits politiques. Paris: Librairie Générale Française, 2001.

Le Men, Ségolène. “Les portraits-charge de Victor Hugo”, Nouvelles de l'estampe, 85 (1986): 16-22.

Le Men, Ségolène. Les Francais peints par eux-mêmes: Panorama du XIXe siècle. Réunion des Musées Nationaux, 1993.

265

Le Men, Ségolène. “Calligraphie, calligrame, caricature”, Langages, Lettres et Icônes, Volume 19, (75/1984): 83-102. https://doi.org/10.3406/lgge.1984.1184 (accessed June 19, 2017)

Le Men, Ségolène. “Gravures, caricatures et images cachées: la genèse du signe du roi en Poire”. Genesis (Manuscrits-Recherche-Invention), Volume 24, (2004): 42-69. https://doi.org/10.3406/item.2004.1314 (accessed June 19, 2017)

Le Men, Ségolène. “Les images sociales du corps”, Histoire du corps. De la Révolution à la Grande Guerre. Edited by Alain Corbin. Paris, Seuil, 2005.

Le Men, Ségolène. “La recherche sur la caricature du xixe siècle : état des lieux”, Perspective, Volume 3, (2009): 426-460. http://journals.openedition.org/perspective/1332 (accessed August 21, 2019).

Le Roi citoyen, ou Le choix national. Biographie populaire de Louis-Philippe. Paris: Cabinet littéraire, 1830.

Lévy, Suzy. “Les mots dans la caricature”, Communication et languages. Volume 102 (1994): 59-67. https://doi.org/10.3406/colan.1994.2546 (accessed 15 October 2015)

Lois, décret, ordonnaces, réglements, et avis du conseil d’état, 35. Paris: Imprimeurs de l’ordre des avocats, 1836.

Maurize, A. Dangers de la situation actuelle de la France. Aux hommes sincères de tous les partis. Paris: d’Everat, 1832.

Melot, Michel. Rire avec les monstres. Caricature, étrangeté et fantasmagorie, Nancy: Édition Amis du MBA de Nancy. Association Emmanuel Héré, 2010.

Melot, Michel. “Le laid idéal”, Les cahiers de médiologie. Volume 15 (1/2003): 149-160. https://www.cairn.info/revue-les-cahiers-de-mediologie-2003-1-page-149.htm (accessed February 16, 2019)

Menon, Elizabeth K. “The science of deformity: Mayeux le bossu and the romantic grotesque”, European Romantic Review. Volume 7 (1996): 26-80.

Menon, Elizabeth K. The Complete Mayeux. Use and Abuse of a French Icon. Berne, Peter Lang A.G., 1998.

Menon, Elizabeth K. “The Utopian Mayeux: Henri de Saint-Simon meets the bossu à la mode”. Scholarship and Professional Work – Arts. Volume 7 (1998): 249-277. https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/jca_papers/7 (accessed September 8, 2018)

Merriman, John M. 1830 in France. New York: New Viewpoints, 1975.

266

Michelet, Jules. Le Peuple. 5th edition. Paris: Calmann Lévy, 1877.

Mitchell, W.J.T. Picture Theory: Essays on Verbal and Visual Representation. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994.

Mitzman, Arthur. Michelet, Historian. Rebirth and Romanticism in Nineteenth-Century France. Chelsea, Michigan: Yale University Press, 1990.

Nora, Pierre, ed. Les lieux de mémoire. III Les France. 3. De l’archive à l’emblème. Paris: Gallimard, 1992.

Ory, Pascal, Christian Delporte, Bertrand Tillier, Laurent Bihl, Laurence Danguy, Marie- Anne Matard-Bonucci, Emmanuel Pierrat, Yannick Dehée and Christian-Marc Bosséno. La Caricature…Et si c’était sérieux ? Décryptage de la violence satirique. Paris: Nouveau Monde éditions, 2015.

Pajolec, Sébastien and Jean-Jacques Yvorel. “Du ‘gamin de Paris’ aux ‘jeunes de banlieu’: evolution d’un stereotype”, Imaginaires urbains du Paris romantique à nos jours. Edited by Myriam Tsikounas. Paris: Le Manuscrit, 2011.

Pastoureau, Michel. Les emblèmes de la France. Paris: Bonneton, 1998.

Pastoureau, Michel. “Héraldique”, Encyclopædia Universalis. http://www.universalis- edu.com/encyclopedie/heraldique/ (accessed June 18, 2018)

Pastoureau, Michel. Bleu. Histoire d’une couleur. Éditions du Seuil, 2000.

Pépin, Alphonse. Deux ans de règne, 1830-1832. Paris: Éditeur A. Mesnier, 1833.

Petrey, Sandy. “Pears in History”, Representations. Volume 35 (1991): 52-71. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2928716 (accessed February 1, 2018)

Petrey, Sandy. In the Court of the Pear King. French Culture and the Rise of Realism. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2005.

Pilbeam, Pamela. The 1830 Revolution in France. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1991.

Porret, Michel. “La cicatrice pénale. Doctrine, pratiques et critique de la marque d’infamie”, Edition de l’Association Paroles. « Sens-Dessous ». Volume 10 (1/2012): 47-63. https://www.cairn.inforevue-sens-dessous-2012-1-page-47.htm (accessed September 12, 2019)

Proudhon, Pierre-Joseph. Solution du problème social. Paris: Éditeur Pilhes, 1848.

Renault, Jean-Michel. Les fées de la République. Paris: Les Créations du Pélican, 2003.

267

Richard, Bernard. Les emblèmes de la République. Preface by Alain Corbin. Paris: CNRS Éditions, 2012.

Rivallain, Josette. “Cabinets de curiosités: aux origins des musées”, Outre-mers. Revue d’histoire. Collectes et collections ethnologiques: une histoire d'hommes et d'institutions. Volume 88. (332-333/2001): 17-35. (accessed 7 August 2018)

Roman, Myriam. “La ‘bataille’ d’Hernani racontée au XIXe siècle” in Qu'est-ce qu'un événement littéraire au XIXe siècle ? directed by Corinne Saminadayar-Perrin. Saint- Étienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Étienne, 2008.

Rosanvallon, Pierre. Le peuple introuvable. Histoire de la représentation démocratique en France. Paris: Gallimard, 2002.

Sabourin, Lise. “Victor Hugo, Le Roi s’amuse”, Studi Francesi. Volume 171 (2013): 626- 627. http://journals.openedition.org/studifrancesi/2827 (accessed March 8, 2018)

Saint Simon, Claude-Henri de. Nouveau christianisme – Dialogues entre un conservateur et un novateur – Premier dialogue. Paris, Bossange Père, A. Sautelet et Cie, 1825.

Serfaty, Raphaella. “The concept of urban spectatorship in Honoré Daumier’s caricatures”, Ridiculosa. Satire visuelle et espace public. (24/2017): 93-107.

Sheon, Aaron. “The Discovery of Graffiti”, Art Journal. Volume 36 (1976): 16-22. https://www.jstor.org/stable/776110 (accessed October 15, 2019)

Skinner, Quentin. Visions of Politics. Volume 1: Regarding Method. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Terdiman, Richard. Discourse/Counter-Discourse: the Theory and Practice of Symbolic Resistance in Nineteenth-Century France. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985.

Tillier, Bertrand. “Virulences verbales et graphiques au cœur de l’affaire Dreyfus : le Psst…! de Forain et Caran d’Ache”, Ridiculosa. Textuel et visuel, Interconnexions entre textes et images satiriques. (6/1999): 183-198.

Tillier, Bertrand. À la charge ! La caricature en France de 1789 à 2000. Paris: Les éditions de l’Amateur, 2005.

Vicaire, Georges. Manuel de l'amateur de livres du XIXe siècle. Preface by Maurice Tourneux. 1801-1893. Volume 1. Paris: Librairie A. Rouquette, 1894.

Vincent, Howard P. Daumier and His World. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968.

268

Yon, Jean-Claude. Théâtres parisiens: un patrimoine du XIXe siècle. Édition Citadelles & Mazenod, 2013.

Yvorel, Jean-Jacques. “De Delacroix à Poulbot, l’image du gamin de Paris”, Revue d’histoire de l’enfance “irrégilière”. No. 4 (2002): 39-72.

Newspapers/journals:

Explication des ouvrages de peinture et dessins, sculpture, architecture et gravure des artistes vivans.

La Caricature.

La Charge, ou les Folies contemporaines. Bibliothèque nationale de France, Department of Philosophy, History, and Human Sciences, FOL-LC2-1326.

La Femme libre. Apostolat des femmes.

La gazette de France.

La Silhouette.

L'Ami de la religion et du Roi: journal ecclésiastique, politique et littéraire. Volume 110. Paris: Imprimerie Bailly, Divry et Cie, 1841.

Le Brid’Oison.

Le Charivari.

Le Constitutionnel.

Le Corsaire.

Le Figaro.

Le Journal des Débats.

Le Moniteur Universel.

Le National. Feuille politique et littéraire.

Le Peuple.

269