Despite all this, payments hitherto most strictly made began to cease.  Those of the customs, those of the divers loans, the dividends upon the Hotel de Ville—­in all times so sacred—­all were suspended; these last alone continued, but with delays, then with retrenchments, which desolated nearly all the families of Paris and many others.  At the same time the taxes—­increased, multiplied, and exacted with the most extreme rigour—­completed the devastation of France.

Everything rose incredibly in price, while nothing was left to buy with, even at the cheapest rate; and although—­the majority of the cattle had perished for want of food, and by the misery of those who kept them, a new monopoly was established upon, horned beasts.  A great number of people who, in preceding years, used to relieve the poor, found, themselves so reduced as to be able to subsist only with great difficulty, and many of them received alms in secret.  It is impossible to say how many others laid siege to the hospitals, until then the , shame and punishment of the poor; how many ruined hospitals revomited forth their inmates to the public charge—­that is to say, sent them away to die actually of hunger; and how many decent families shut themselves up in garrets to die of want.

It is impossible to say, moreover, how all this misery warmed up zeal and charity, or how immense were the alms distributed.  But want increasing each instant, an indiscreet and tyrannical charity imagined new taxes for the benefit of the poor.  They were imposed, and, added to so many others, vexed numbers of people, who were annoyed at being compelled to pay, who would have preferred giving voluntarily.  Thus, these new taxes, instead of helping the poor, really took away assistance from them, and left them worse off than before.  The strangest thing of all is, that these taxes in favour of the poor were, perpetuated and appropriated by the King, and are received by the financiers on his account to this day as a branch of the revenue, the name of them not having even been changed.  The same thing has happened with respect to the annual tax for keeping up the highways and thoroughfares of the kingdom.  The majority of the bridges were broken, and the high roads had become impracticable.  Trade, which suffered by this, awakened attention.  The Intendant of Champagne determined to mend the roads by parties of men, whom he compelled to work for nothing, not even giving them bread.  He was imitated everywhere, and was made Counsellor of State.  The people died of hunger and misery at this work, while those who overlooked them made fortunes.  In the end the thing was found to be impracticable, and was abandoned, and so were the roads.  But the impost for making them and keeping them up did not in the least stop during this experiment or since, nor has it ceased to be appropriated as a branch of the King’s revenue.