one hundred millions of francs. Winter came on, the severest that
had been seen since 1709. At the close of December the Seine was
frozen over from Paris to Havre, while the thermometer stood at 180
below zero. A third of the olive-trees died in Provence, and the
rest suffered to such an extent that they were considered incapable
of bearing fruit for two years to come. The same disaster befell
Languedoc. In Vivarais, and in the Cevennes, whole forests of
chestnuts had perished, along with all the grain and grass crops on
the uplands. On the plain the Rhone remained in a state of overflow
for two months. After the spring of 1789 the famine spread
everywhere, and it increased from month to month like a rising
flood. In vain did the Government order the farmers, proprietors,
and corn-dealers to keep the markets supplied. In vain did it
double the bounty on imports, resort to all sorts of expedients,
involve itself in debt, and expend over forty millions of francs to
furnish France with wheat. In vain do individuals, princes,
noblemen, bishops, chapters, and communities multiply their
charities. The Archbishop of Paris incurring a debt of 400,000
livres, one rich man distributing 40,000 francs the morning after
the hailstorm, and a convent of Bernardines feeding twelve hundred
poor persons for six weeks[2]. But it had been too devastating.
Neither public measures nor private charity could meet the
overwhelming need. In Normandy, where the last commercial treaty
had ruined the manufacture of linen and of lace trimmings, forty
thousand workmen were out of work. In many parishes one-fourth of
the population[3] are beggars. Here, "nearly all the inhabitants,
not excepting the farmers and landowners, are eating barley bread
and drinking water;" there, "many poor creatures have to eat oat
bread, and others soaked bran, which has caused the death of several
children." -- "Above all," writes the Rouen Parliament, "let help be