Law, Performance, and Censorship in Paris, 1515 1559

# 041

Law, Performance, and Censorship in Paris, 1515–1559

The traditional story of theatrical censorship during the first half of the sixteenth century in Paris centers on the Confraternity of the Passion, the Parliament’s curtailing of performances using religious material, and what scholars have seen as actors and playwrights filling the gap by turning back to the classics.[1] Chronologically, this argument falls apart—playwrights in France were adapting and translating classical era plays long before 1548. Folded in with this story is the idea of the rise of the so-called anti-theatrical prejudice, pervasive among nineteenth-century historians of the theatre but lingering just as strongly today.[2] Frederick Hawkins, in 1884, referred to the 1548 ruling as the “decree of the Parlement [that] marked an epoch in stage history.”[3] This, combined with the Protestant movement, supposedly led the clergy to be “uncompromising opponents of theatrical amusement in any shape. They suddenly discovered that the drama was bad in principle.”[4]

In fact, the relationship between sacred and secular does lie at the heart of censorship during this time—but not in the way previous scholars have framed it. In this chapter, we will look at the increasing tension between sacred and secular authority in the areas of law and policing, exploring how those circumstances contributed to the institutionalization of theatrical censorship.[5] Next, we will investigate the Reformation background, looking at how secular control over religious information and practice was imposed on the people of Paris by carefully shaping the ways in which these ideas with their attendant actions were printed and performed. Finally, we will look at the urban environment—censorship imposed under the guise of the safety of the people of Paris and the realm; this was another area in which secular lawmakers were concerned with what they saw as a very practical fear of retribution by God for misbehavior, as well as other threats to the stability of the crown by popular unrest.

“Emotion populaire”: Laws, Policing, and Censorship

Much of the confusion regarding sacred and secular attitudes toward theatre and censorship begins with the difference between ecclesiastical and civil jurisdictions. Many scholars, looking at regulations for clerics, assume these restrictions applied to all people. For instance, Canon 138 established that clerics could not participate in anything inappropriate to their saintly status, including professions designated as “indecoras artes.” They were not to participate in games of chance that involved money; carry weapons unless they had reason to be afraid for their lives; no hunting; and no entering inns or taverns (tabernae) or similar places without absolute necessity. These prohibitions became the standard formula for future decrees. Canon 140 went even further, stating that clerics could not attend plays, dances, or frivolous celebrations (pompae), as they were not appropriate to their status as clerics, or because their presence would provoke gossip, especially in theatres. The editor of the Dictionnaire de droit canonique sees this prohibition as moderate, since it did not forbid clerics from attending all ceremonies or concerts which might take place in a public theatre; it was not the space that was deemed bad (odium loci), but the nature of the performance and what actions might arise from it.[6]

This idea of the consequences of a performance is evidenced in a civil ordonnance recorded by the provost of Paris on 14 September 1395. The people of the city were forbidden to perform anything that could provoke scandal or gossip—the subject of the pope, the king, or reference to what we now call the Great Schism—on pain of fine with two months in prison on bread and water:

Soit crié de par le roy, etc. Nous deffendons à tous dicteurs, faiseurs de dits et de chançons, et à tous autres menestriers de bouches et recordeurs de diz, que il ne facent, dyent ne chantent en places ne ailleurs, aucuns ditz, rymes ne chançons qui facent mention du pape, du roy notre seigneur, de nos diz seigneurs de France, au regard de ce qui touche le fait de l’union de l’Èglise ne les voyages que il ont faits ou feront pour cause de ce, sur peine d’amende volontaire et d’être mis en prison deux mois au pain et à l’eau. Escript soubs nostre signet, le mardy quatorzième jour de septembre, mil trois cent quatre vingt quinze.[7]

According to Delamare, this ordonnance was never repeated or referred to in subsequent ordonnances, giving the impression that it was specific to that particular time of crisis.[8] The main idea—that referring to current events and personalities could stir up trouble—would continue throughout the sixteenth century and beyond.

One of the most important changes in law during the sixteenth century was the increasing concern with and repression of blasphemy and heresy—“perversités de la langue.”[9] As with performance in the 1395 ordonnance above, these crimes were of most concern to authorities because of their potential to destabilize the community and even the realm: “Blasphémer, c’est contester la hiérarchisation des valeurs fondamentales, donc sacrées, bouleverser le sens de la déférence obligée, nier la vertu d’obéissance et, à terme, douter de l’essence même du pouvoir qui les fonde. Enfin c’est aussi troubler l’équilibre général de la société.”1[0] Besides the civil disorder and “emotion populaire” provoked, blasphemy was “un acte de rébellion . . . un signe de désobéissance qui, en touchant Dieu, atteint le prince.”1[1] In terms of punishments during this time, scholars see the increasing use of arbitrary fines—set by the court—as a centralized kind of repression that had an important impact in the shaping “des pratiques, des comportements et des catégories de perception qui sont les signes de la construction de l’Etat moderne.”1[2] Ironically, the same fines that could be used as a form of repression against performers and others also funded their performances; the basoche of the Parlement, for example, were always sponsored through collected fines.

Many changes were taking place in the day-to-day policing of Paris during this time as well. In the 1523 ordonnance which created the office of lieutenant criminal for each local jurisdiction (including Paris), the king described the pathetic conditions of law enforcement. Faced with an uproar of complaints from the people of France about the enforcement of legal decisions, he decided to appoint an officer to make certain that trials did not drag on and punishments were actually carried out. Justice must be quick, so that all crimes would be dealt with immediately, putting fear and terror into others who might be thinking of committing the same offense. He also pointed out the practicality of confiscating goods and collecting fines quicky, since those monies funded the administration of the realm.1[3]

The 25 September 1523 ordonnance against blasphemers is a rich example of how secular policing was intimately tied to religious concerns:

Comme il ait pleu a Dieu nous appeller a la fleur de nostre aaige, comme l’un de ses principaulx ministres, au regime, gouvernement et administration de ce noble et digne royaume et couronne de France, divinement et miraculeuse-ment instituté et approuvé, pour la moderacion, direction, tuition et protection de tous les estatz d’icelluy, et spéciallement pour la conservacion, sublevacion et defense de l’estat commun et populaire, qui est le plus foible, le plus humble et le plus bas . . . qui tousjours a esté doulx, humble, craintif et gracieulx en toutes choses, obsequieulx a son prince et seigneur naturel, lequel il a tousjours recongneu, amé, servy et obey, sans vaguer, changer ne varier, vouloir admectre, souffrir ne recevoir dominacion de autre prince . . .; laquelle amour, devotion et concorde, bien entretenue entre le roy et ses subgectz, soubz la crainte et amour de Dieu, qui tousjours a esté servy devotement en France, a rendu le royaume florissant, triumphant, craint, doubté et extimé par toute la terre; or le vray moyen par lequel les roys peuent et doivent conserver, perpetuer et augmenter cest amour, consiste en justice et en paix.1[4]

The law puts forth the idea that if the king and his subjects served God, he would bless the realm of France; and furthermore, the best way for the king to assure God’s favor was to impose justice and peace—in other words, stability. The king asserts that government institutions were divinely created and authorized for the protection of the people of France. In keeping with his idea of protection, he goes on to prohibit anyone, no matter what their status, to play upon the “tabourin” in order to call people to any kind of assembly without having letters patent from the king addressed to the “governor, bailiff ou seneschal.”

By looking at legislation regarding the justice system during this time, we can see that in practice, these institutions did not receive the cooperation—internally or externally—that the king claimed they deserved. If policing was no deterrent to those who would break the law (as seen above), neither were the inefficient trials facing offenders. François passed an edict regarding the court at the Châtelet in 1527 and other regulations regarding trials in sovereign courts in 1529.1[5] The problem of false testimony and the issuance of false contracts was so severe that in 1532 the king made those offenses punishable by death, depending on the seriousness of the case.1[6] In addition, people were still taking the law into their own hands; on 31 December 1532, François issued an “interdiction des assemblées avec port d’armes, et ordre de soumettres les querelles d’honneur aux cours de justice.” This laws dealt with two main things: vigilante justice and dueling—the second, from this point on, was converted into a crime of lese-majesty, because dueling subverted the royal justice set forth by the king for his subjects.1[7]

Finally, the major reform of the justice system came in August 1539 with the ordonnance of Villers-Cotterêts.1[8] Article 108, for instance, imposes a heavy fine on third-party opposition to any judgment made by a sovereign court.1[9] Frivolous accusations against the court by the accused of a miscarriage of justice are also forbidden (article 10), and the trial cannot be delayed in that manner (article 11).2[0] People sentenced to the seizure of their goods could be fined or otherwise punished for interfering (stopping or simply arguing) with the official announcement of their sentence and the taking of their goods (article 78).2[1] Those people, however, had the right to see a written form of the judgment with the seal of the judge; if they did not have the opportunity to see the official judgment in the proper form, the ruling could be annulled (article 79). However, if they tried to appeal the decision using false testimony, they would be fined further (article 80).2[2] To escape other kinds of false testimony, no depositions could be taken from anyone regarding their personal administrator, such as a guardian or protector (article 131). All decisions of the court must be written down and registered (article 132).2[3] Another aspect of the ordonnance of Villers-Cotterêts was that it was responsible for reducing the power of ecclesiastical courts by claiming jurisdiction over blasphemy as a crime; Cabantous stresses that this was not a clear-cut distinction, and the ecclesiastical judges were not pleased.2[4] This was a major step towards secularizing aspects of society that had heretofore been controlled by the church.

In June 1544, another edict of the king regarding criminal judgments and policing ordered yet another crackdown on enforcement of the laws in the courts, referring to “les grands larcins, pilleries & ranconnemens, rapts, homicides, tromperies, affrontemens, insidiations, abus, malversations, & autres grands maux, crims & delicts qui se font & commettent chacun jour en nostredite Cour & suitte d’icelle.”2[5] Not only were the actions of the accused a problem in the courtroom, but the actions of the court officers had the potential to be equally corrupt. François insisted on the impartiality of the courts when dealing with cases brought by or against friends and kinsmen of the magistrates or councillors, and imposed a fine on those members of the court who failed to comply. In the same edict, he insisted that all rulings contrary to a royal edict, statute, declaration, or ordonnance would be considered null and void, since laws issued by the king were perpetual and irrevocable (at least until he died).2[6] As for the notaries of the Châtelet, he insisted that the Parlement oversee the accurate reporting of testimony and agreements in that court, and that all their sentences be announced publicly and carried out to the letter.2[7] The increasing strictures of the legal system would make it easier for authorities to censor all kinds of behavior, including performance.

A dramatic example of civil courts encroaching on the jurisdiction of ecclesiastical courts took place on 8 October 1547, when Henri created a new chamber in the Parlement of Paris, the Second Tournelle, to judge trials of heresy and blasphemy. Pierre Lizet and François de Saint-André were named as presidents and were to rule on the cases along with fourteen other councillors.2[8] Later, an ordonnance of November 1549 was issued to establish a legal definition of blasphemy that made a distinction between two types of the crime, each to be judged in a different court: ecclesiastical courts had jurisdiction over simple heresy, stemming from ignorance or bad language; heresy with—in the words of the law—“scandale public, commotion populaire, sédition ou autres crimes, emportans offenses publique” was supposed to be judged by both royal and ecclesiastical courts.2[9] On 27 June 1551, the Edict of Châteaubriant once again stated that simple heresy was to be judged by the ecclesiastical courts, but civil disorder issuing from heresy was to be judged without appeal in the royal courts; further, searches were authorized, and the death penalty could be invoked for people in possession of prohibited books. The edict also stated that the articles of faith of 1543 were to be read aloud every Sunday in the churches.3[0]

Still, the ability of the civil authorities to mete out justice in Paris was questionable. The same year, on 12 December, Parlement issued a ruling to deal with the multitude of complaints regarding the quality of policing in Paris. According to them, the city was in an uproar, and it was all the officers’ fault: “des abus, fautes, insolences, rebellions, blasphemes, larrecins, voleries, meurtres, & autres maux infinis” were being committed every day through “negligence” and lack of power on the part of these officers. Therefore, they ordered that crimes must be reported within twenty-four hours, all blasphemous acts must be reported, and the sergeants would henceforth be responsible for a specific section of the city. And since the sergeants were also in the habit of hanging out with criminals and ignoring the offenses they committed against the people, the ordonnance barred them from eating or drinking in the company of such men, or even speaking to them.3[1] In addition, Henri revised François’ 1523 ordonnance (see above) in 1554, and expanded it the following year.3[2]

Evidence that policing was not effective can be found in Henri’s edict of 1557, where he describes how the “sectateurs” at public assemblies are gaining influence on the public at large:

induisans et séduisans le pauvre peuple à leurs opinions, et le retirant et destourant du lieu de l’obéyssance de l’église, et de la justice temporelle, tendant d’hérésie à blasphême, scandale, sédition, et en crime de leze majesté divine et humaine à quoy est très-requis et necessaire de pourvoir, pour l’honneur de Dieu, conservation de la religion chrestienne, et pour le bien, repos et tranquillité de nos sujets.3[3]

Furthermore, the juxtaposition of temporal justice and church rule, the fear of both human and divine lese-majesty, and the desire for peace among the king’s subjects as well as the honor of God are all examples of the religious nature of supposedly secular laws.

Especially during the 1540s and 1550s, we see a heightened tension between sacred and secular areas of law, and a pattern of civil authorities encroaching on religious concerns. At the same time, reforms in the justice system gave more power to the courts by cracking down on policing and the application of their rulings and the king’s statutes, strengthening judicial institutions. This strength would allow for forms of censorship—both of books and of performances—to be imposed more easily during the Reformation than they had been in the Middle Ages.3[4]

“Heresies de Genesve & aultres”: The Reformation Setting

It is hardly surprising that new Protestant ideas sparked strong reactions in the Catholic lawmakers of France. In terms of censorship, their aim was to regulate behavior in sacred places—such as churches and cemeteries—as well as the kind of information to which the public was exposed. Censorship during this time was not usually just a matter of forbidding performance or printing outright; it was a matter of replacing objectionable material with what the authorities viewed as appropriate by creating or confining the institutions responsible for this material (e.g., limiting membership in the printers’ guild, or curtailing the subject matter of the Confraternity of the Passion’s plays). We have already seen examples of this in previous chapters: for instance, the Parlement’s insistence on seeing the plays of the basoche before approving the public performances, and the Bureau’s scrutinizing designs and mystery plays before their implementation during civic performances. What becomes apparent while placing this against the Reformation background is that authorities were concerned with establishing clear limits on who had access—in terms of dissemination as well as reception—to sacred spaces and religious ideas.