Mass Surveillance in France & Britain: The Aristocratic Age

            The all-seeing state is an ubiquitous part of our modern psyche. Dystopian literature going back to George Orwell’s 1984 depicts a government which sees everything at all times. For a long time, those living in the democratic-capitalist West believed that this was something confined to communist countries. However, due to the Edward Snowdon leaks, we now know that modern Western countries are continually watching their own citizenry through their phones, computers, virtually any technology more complicated than a toaster. In fact, Britain and France’s intelligence organizations are even more intrusive into the lives of their own people than the United States. In 2016 Edward Snowdon claimed that the US’ National Security Agency could only dream of having the same power that the UK’s GCHQ exercised. In 2023 France became the first EU country to legalize AI-driven surveillance programs in preparation for the 2024 Olympic Games. This, despite popular opposition from the public and a fervent denunciation from Amnesty International, whose leader said that, “This decision, which legalises the use of AI-powered surveillance for the first time in France and the EU, risks permanently transforming France into a dystopian surveillance state.”

            So, how did we get here? How did Britain and France, long considered champions of liberty and popular democracy, against the totalitarian threats of fascism and communism, develop their mass surveillance states? I’m going to try to answer that question in a special mini-series about one of my specialties: mass governmental surveillance in Britain and France.

Perhaps you did not know this was one of my specialties, but in fact I even wrote the book on the topic. This May, 2024, academic publisher Routledge published my book Domestic Surveillance and Social Control in Britain and France during World War I. It’s a pretty big deal, as Routledge is one of the most prestigious academic publishers in the world and certainly the largest. In the book, I argue that World War I served as a catalyst which provided the governments of Britain and France the excuse they needed to create mass domestic intelligence gathering organizations. As the conflict escalated, these two countries adopted a total warfare strategy, subsuming their entire societies to the goal of winning the war. Part of this transformation involved the growth in size and power of intelligence-gathering organizations to monitor and control each country’s populations. There are many twists and turns that this story takes, and I’ll post a link on my website to the book in case you want to get it and learn all about it.

This series is focused on everything that led up to World War I. If you don’t already know by now, and really you should, I am very thorough in my studies. Practically everything has a precursor or extra detail that needs to be understood to grasp the whole picture. In the process of writing my book, I wrote a lengthy chapter on the development of surveillance in Britain and France from the Norman Conquest of England all the way to World War I. While I quite liked the chapter, it was over-ambitious for publication, and most of it got cut in the editing process. If my academic work has to be concise in the extreme, thankfully I can be as detailed as I want in the podcast. What follows is a three-part series on the history of mass governmental domestic surveillance in Britian and France. And yes, it will be Britain and France, because I believe that in this case you cannot separate the two. As enemies, rivals and occasional allies, these two countries developed similar organizations and practices in tandem or in opposition to each other.

            The three episodes each cover a different age in the history of surveillance. As we shall see, I argue that governmental surveillance aimed to counter its most pressing threats: first aristocrats, then the masses, then the individual subversive. Thus, we shall start with The Aristocratic Age, the second episode will deal with the Age of the Masses, and our penultimate episode will cover the Age of the Individual with conclusions and tie-in to the book.

Introduction:

Few societies in history have developed without cooperation and competition from their neighbors, and few have had as significant a relationship as the French and English (later British). This is partially due to the early emergence of French and English polities and identities. While many central and eastern European countries only emerged in the 19th or 20th centuries, a polity, government and identity claiming to represent France and England have existed for roughly a thousand years.

These two nations experienced a deeply inter-connected relationship, characterized by centuries-long wars and intense commercial linkages. Sometimes opposition and cooperation occurred simultaneously, such as when Napoleonic France sold the Louisiana Territory to the United States which purchased it with a loan from a British bank, effectively transferring money to France which bought British-manufactured uniforms for its armies for use in its wars against Britain. Whether as friends or enemies, France and England have one of the most storied relations in European and world history. Their governments, militaries, economies, cultures, practically every aspect of their societal development was at least in part inspired by or in response to the other. Naturally, over the past thousand years the nature of information collection, the relationship between the subject/citizen and government, and government surveillance practices have been influenced by this cross-Channel development.

Domestic surveillance in France and England evolved over three major periods which I define as the ‘Aristocratic Age,’ the ‘Age of the Masses’ and the ‘Age of the Individual.’ I advocate this novel periodization because no preexisting periodization accurately encompasses the three major shifts in government-subject/citizen relations. This new periodization may have its flaws but this mental exercise is meant to start a conversation, not end it. This new categorization is necessary because over the past millennium technological innovations and sociopolitical change shifted the government-subject/citizen dynamic in a way that defies established periodization.

The Aristocratic Age refers to the Norman Conquest until the revolutions of the 18th century. During this period domestic surveillance by the central state was almost exclusively directed against aristocratic houses for three main reasons. First, communication and transportation technology was not advanced enough to allow for meaningful observation of a large number of subjects so surveillance had to be concentrated. Second, non-royal aristocratic houses posed the most significant internal challenge to monarchical authority due to their wealth and power. Third, roughly 90% of the population of France and England were illiterate, impoverished peasants or urban laborers who rarely travelled, which severely limited their ability to contest government power.

For the majority of the Aristocratic Age this 90% did not pose a significant threat to the central government because most people’s existence was confined to a relatively small locality. Even when a locality espoused radical aims historians have typically dismissed pre-18th century uprisings as ‘revolts’ or ‘riots’ rather than ‘revolutions.’ This is because modern revolutions are largely aimed at reshaping national politics and culture while the pre-18th century uprisings were usually local disturbances with little or no coordination across localities. A second reason why historians dismiss pre-18th century local uprisings is that they were largely unsuccessful, as medieval and early modern monarchs could call upon national resources and arms to restore order. For all of these reasons the Aristocratic Age’s limited domestic surveillance apparatus was directed against rival aristocratic houses rather than the majority of its subjects. During this age a central government could only monitor aristocrats effectively; yet this was all it needed to do to maintain a level of stability for itself.

The Age of the Masses refers to a time period beginning in the late 18th century wherein mass discontent with established states led to interconnected uprisings across a country or countries to significantly change or overthrow the established governments. During the Age of the Masses government surveillance was directed against large groups of a country’s citizenry rather than small cabals of elites. Most European states were unprepared for the revolutions of the 18th and 19th centuries as they retained a medieval mindset and failed to account for the new middle class. These states were shocked that non-aristocrats were capable of creating and sustaining national movements. When the British attempted to quash American Revolutionaries or when Louis XVI’s court sought to subdue French revolutionaries they resorted to heavy-handed repression directed largely at discontented masses. This state-sponsored violence against the poorer classes in turn led to a radicalization of greater segments of the population. This age extended into the latter 19th century and ended when the central French and British states no longer feared the working class as a dormant revolutionary force and instead directed their attention at small cabals of subversives as the source of social upheaval.

The Age of the Individual began in the 1870s and is the age we are currently living in. Between 1789 and 1871 France experienced four successful revolutions, nearly as many failed revolutions and even more major upheavals. Britain avoided revolution, though Chartism and the European-wide revolutions of 1848 challenged the state. During the 1870s both states stabilized due to a number of factors. The two that are most significant to our narrative are (1) the political incorporation of the middle class and their cooperation with ruling elites (2) the erosion of elite fears regarding the working class. When the middle class gained political power and representation they became staunch defenders of the established order against working class economic radicalism. However, when meaningful universal manhood suffrage was enacted in the French Third Republic and when over a million members of the working class gained the right to vote in Britain in 1884, they voted largely for moderate and conservative political candidates. While the conservative elite had a perennial fear the lower classes would support left-wing radicals, only a minority advocated socialist or communist reform while the majority were religious and patriotic, which put them in closer proximity to conservatives than the far-left. The political incorporation and pacification of these two classes meant that elite fears transferred from the middle and working classes to subversive groups and dangerous individuals.

These episodes are not a comprehensive history of everything that happened from the Middle Ages to present, nor does it cover every major governmental shift. Our only focus is on the domestic intelligence-gathering tactics and priorities of the French and English central governments as a means of explaining two major themes regarding the development of modern Franco-British surveillance.

First, we detail how technology and infrastructure dictated the government-subject/citizen relationship. Advances in technology allowed for greater transportation and communication. These changes did not inherently favor greater control by the state or greater freedom. Instead, new technologies and improvements in infrastructure empowered the subject/citizens when they utilized it more adroitly than the state, as was the case during the French Revolution. Yet, these same technological advances allowed the state to coordinate and suppress its people more efficiently. Technological advances and their applications always alter the relationship between the government and the subject-citizen. Yet, how this relationship is altered depends entirely on human agency as groups of people redefine power relations.

Secondly, we establish that surveillance practices, objectives and mechanisms in these two countries developed the way they did largely due to the interconnection of France and England. For the better part of a millennium these two nations vied with each other for dominance and were perpetually afraid of the other infiltrating their government. They developed techniques to counter each others’ influences while simultaneously learning from the other. After the Napoleonic Wars ended and the two countries were nominally allies, long-lasting antagonism and cooperation spurred developments in both countries. If one wishes to understand how modern Franco-British domestic surveillance and societal control developed one must be cognizant that such developments in these countries occurred because of events in the other.

The Aristocratic Age:

The Norman Invasion to the Hundred Years War:

Numerous histories have touched upon domestic surveillance in the pre-modern era, though usually in relation to other topics. This historiographic blank space is understandable given how new surveillance studies are and how they are usually applied to modern states. This is further compounded by the fact that centuries of instability meant that England, France and Spain did not have strong centralized states until the late 1400s. There were attempts by centralized states to gather information on their people during the Middle Ages but perpetual instability and regime change meant that intelligence-gathering practices were irregular. It was only in the late 15th century that the English and French monarchies were stable enough that regular censusing and surveillance practices developed.

The earliest attempt at widespread intelligence-gathering by the central state as a means of controlling the population in England was the Domesday Book 1086, which was ordered by Guillaume the Conqueror (r. 1066-1087) over his newly-seized kingdom.[1] This revolutionary survey was very different from a modern census. While the first national census of England in 1801 gathered information on individuals the Domesday Book surveyed manors.[2] The reason for this was threefold. First, Guillaume the Conqueror wanted a survey of the moneyed sort for taxation purposes. Second, by surveying the wealthier sort the Norman invaders demonstrated their power to know and control their new Anglo-Saxon subjects. Third, the government of medieval England was incapable of gathering meaningful information on every inhabitant of the kingdom. These three reasons for why the Domesday Book occurred and what form it took foreshadow domestic intelligence gathering during the Aristocratic Age.

The Normans were perennially suspicious of their English vassals.[3] Following the Norman Conquest the kings of England may have had over a hundred knights regularly with them for security.[4] Laws were enacted for the protection of Normans, such as murdrum. If a Norman was killed it was upon a ‘hundred,’ an organization of one hundred people, to either turn over the culprit or pay a fine.[5]

The Norman overlords were a few thousand in a kingdom of 500,000. Many were absentees, meaning people were largely left to their own devices.[6] Their control was even more precarious due to the limitations of direct executive power at the time. Autonomy was localized as per the Anglo-Saxon custom.[7] As W.L. Warren notes, “Early medieval societies were in practice fashioned and controlled more by social, economic and religious factors than by institutionalized government and the will of rulers, more by immemorial custom than by law defined by authority, more by the influence of those who dispensed local patronage than by the power of the state.”[8]

Rule was indirect, as the king had power over lords and lords in turn controlled their serfs. Yet, most Anglo-Saxon nobles assisted Guillaume’s government. During the writing of the Domesday Book lords cooperated with Guillaume’s assessors in order to get an accurate assessment of their own wealth.[9] Furthermore, once their wealth was recorded they could appeal to the king to protect it in case they were wronged by another noble. Finally, Anglo-Saxon lords who cooperated with the Normans could expect better treatment.[10]

Guillaume and his Norman government depended on local Anglo-Saxon lords just as much as they did upon him. During this period there were few if any regular offices and centralized government was another word for the monarch and their retinue. While Guillaume and his immediate successors could intervene in local affairs without a professional central service they were dependent on information from local justices of the peace.[11]

During the 12th-13th centuries English monarchs gathered more information so that they could exercise more direct authority over their subjects. In 1166, King Henry II (r. 1154-1189) made a special inquiry into the number of knights each barony held. While barons were required to raise a certain number of knights for service some barons raised additional knights to protect themselves during the contested period before and during his predecessor Stephen’s reign (1135-1154). Henry II asserted Guillaume the Conqueror’s law that knights owed fealty to the crown before their lords, so even those knights that were in excess of a regular raising of troops had to remain loyal to the king.[12]

During his reign Henry II developed a national service in England separate from the royal household. This included a chief minister, commissioners and justices. Meanwhile exchequers were supposed to conduct a yearly audit of sheriffs, though in practice this did not always occur.[13] However, while he developed a professional, centralized government its ability to exercise direct control across his vast realm was limited, thus he still depended on localities for information.

Guillaume the Conqueror’s invasion of England in 1066 meant that his sovereign Philippe I (r. 1059-1108), King of the Franks, was actually weaker than him. The competing dynastic claims across the two countries caused by the Norman Invasion resulted in political instability in both countries for the next four hundred years. Numerous succession crises took place in England with powerful aristocrats endorsing their own candidates. The First Barons’ War 1215-1217 saw aristocrats force John I (r. 1199-1216) and his successor Henry III (r. 1216-1272) to accept Magna Carta, limiting kingly authority over their baronial vassals. Across the Channel, French monarchs attempted to centralize power, most notably under Philippe Auguste (r. 1179-1223) and Louis IX (r. 1226-1270). However, France was not unified during this period, as the Angevin Empire claimed territory across the west, while Gascony and Burgundy maintained their independence.

Before Philippe Auguste the French monarchy had an extremely limited ability to monitor its people since much of the territory it claimed was divided between the Holy Roman Empire, the Burgundians and the Angevin Empire. These overlapping loyalties meant the House of Capet could not effectively demand fealty in the form of accounts from their vassals. King Philippe Auguste’s conquest of Normandy in the early 13th century was a major turning point in the development of the French state.  The Normans had a complex bureaucratic system known as a baillis that could function in a duke's absence and took biannual audits of viscounts while hearing local cases.[14] Philippe’s new Norman administrators decided to survey his holdings in a manner similar to the Domesday Book. These are known to history as the Registers, with the first, Register A, taking place in 1205.[15] In addition to surveying Normandy’s property, Philippe Auguste wanted a tally of all knights in the realm as a means of monitoring his most powerful vassals and so that he could call these soldiers into service when needed.[16]

Despite Norman innovations, French monarchs still relied on interpersonal linkages through their vassals for information. However, one way they could control aristocrats was through the development of an elaborate court system. Noble vassals could be directly monitored through bringing them to court. Also, the court was the king’s base of power, and if a noble were there they were away from their own holdings and vulnerable.[17] Furthermore Philippe Auguste maintained a pledge system to protect against wayward lords. If a lord refused to come to court and answer accusations a pledge promised to oppose the noble.[18] Philippe Auguste’s government maintained detailed records of pledges as a means of ensuring loyalty against aristocratic intrigue.

Another major innovation in surveillance and control of aristocrats was the fief-rente system. A fief was an allotment of land by a lord to a vassal in exchange for loyalty. With the emergence of greater currency in the 11th and 12th century, the practice of fief-rente developed in which a salary, rather than land, was given to a person on a semi-annual or annual basis in exchange for loyalty. This naturally led to increased record-keeping as the central government managed accounts and ensured the loyalty of its aristocracy through regular payments.[19]

The most important regular accounting during the late medieval period was the hearth rolls. While tax collectors originally compiled lists of physical hearths for taxation, at some point ‘hearth’ became synonymous with household.[20] While commoners were regularly taxed, royal administrators calculated the holdings of “the nobles, the church, and the burgesses of the towns” for irregular levies.[21] By this means the central French state was able to measure the wealth of notables and exert some level of control over them through taxation. However, the monarchy’s ability to apply this information for control over notables was limited. When the irregular levies were ordered, “[the church, and the burgesses of the towns] commonly paid a lump sum which they apportioned among themselves, whereas the lay nobility passed their obligations on to the peasants who cultivated their lands.”[22]

The majority of hearth rolls and parish records were confined to localities until 1328. When Charles IV (r. 1322-1328) died 1 February 1328 the House of Capet had no male heirs to claim the throne, prompting a succession crisis in which Philippe VI (r. 1328-1350) of the House of Valois emerged as king. Just as Guillaume the Conqueror surveyed his kingdom as a means of knowing and controlling his population, Philippe VI ordered his ministers to compile the hearth lists and parish records of his entire kingdom, “which amounted at this date to about three-fifths of the whole country.”[23]

The Hundred Years’ War undid Philippe VI’s attempts at centralization as England conquered much of France, throwing Philippe VI’s realm into chaos. When Charles VII (r. 1422-1461) ascended to the throne he controlled an area of France that was not much larger than that held by his English counterpart. Charles VII was a weak king for much of his reign, derisively labelled ‘The King of Bourges’ after moving his court south following the conquest of Paris.[24] By the time Charles VII united France in 1452 he was old, in ill health, and in constant conflict with his son and eventual heir Louis IX, who would finally craft a strong centralized government.

The 15th-17th Century Aristocrats Contest Power, England

While the English monarchs exercised considerable power during the Hundred Years’ War, defeat discredited the monarchy. This and a succession crisis led to the Wars of the Roses as varying aristocratic factions vied for the English throne until Henry VII (r. 1485-1509) seized it after the Battle of Bosworth Field 1485 and created a strong central government. Henry VII of the House of Tudor was in a precarious situation as his house was not well established and thus faced conspiracies, which were sometimes supported by international agents. The first years of his reign saw numerous plots by claimants to the throne.[25]

Upon his ascendancy there was still no professional, regular domestic intelligence-gathering service. Only luck and interpersonal loyalty provided Henry VII information on aristocratic plots. In one example, Henry VII learned of Francis Loval’s insurrection in 1486 when Sir Reginald Bray learned of it from a friend, who learned it from Sir Hugh Conway, who informed the king. This alarmed Henry as he had no idea how strong the pro-Yorkist faction was (it turned out to be negligent and the uprising failed, though Henry could not know that).[26] Likewise, when John the Earl of Lincoln, likely was involved in the 1485 plot to put a Yorkish imposter on the throne, he still was able to attend court because ‘intelligence-gathering’ was mostly rumors.[27] Henry responded to these threats by passing an act authorizing a jury of the king’s household to inquire whether any member of it below the rank of a peer had conspired to murder the king or lord or member of his council, and making any such offence a felony. However, this was not a regular service.[28]

In the 16th century a major change emerged which eventually led to the rise of the central state and the diminishing of aristocratic capacity for revolt: the Protestant Reformation. This religious schism posed a major challenge to the French and English monarchies as conflicts over religion overthrew numerous governments. In the long-term, the Protestant Reformation led to stronger central states as the monarchies developed improved intelligence-gathering techniques that allowed them to more adroitly control heretical and treasonous nobles. The 16th-17th centuries was the end of major aristocratic challenges to the central state. By the 18th century the monarchical central states of France and England faced no major challenges to their rule by aristocratic upstarts. This relative stability would ultimately blind the French Ancien Régime to the new challenge: the middle class-led masses.

One final note on the 16th cent. turn towards central state rule. While central states developed greater bureaucracies and intelligence-gathering services that effectively countered aristocratic plots, aristocrats grew increasingly hesitant to engage in plots due to certain military technological advancements. The development of artillery meant that medieval castle walls were outdated.[29] Meanwhile France and England developed professional armies through direct recruitment, rather than through the medieval practice of levying knights from their vassals. These changes meant central states developed their own armies while local forces declined and ultimately disappeared, and aristocratic fortifications were largely irrelevant. Thus, after the English Civil War and the French Wars of Religion any aristocratic action against the central state had to either be supported by large foreign armies (as in the case of the Glorious Revolution 1688-1689) or had to capture or kill the monarch in a swift ‘palace coup.’

Henry VIII’s ministers (r. 1509-1547) Cardinal Wolsey and later Thomas Cromwell centralized government power as they struggled against aristocratic dissent that could result in another civil war. In March 1522 Cardinal Wolsey surveyed England’s military resources and financial capacity. The aim was to have a national fighting force rather than a local one. Though no major shifts in military organization occurred immediately, this information could have been used to determine the power of any regional uprising, as many balked at Henry VIII’s religious reforms.[30] Henry VIII had a book made of nobles sworn to him, which allowed him to measure his influence in each county.[31] In 1527-9 Wolsey imitated French practice and charged county commissioners in every county to search barns and stores of people suspected of hoarding grain and force them to sell it at reasonable prices. Registers of speculators and black marketeers were compiled and their assets liquidated. Thieves, vagrants and criminals were imprisoned, pilloried and reported to the central government.[32] Finally, Henry VIII’s government increasingly relied on justices of the peace as a link between the central state and localities while increasing their powers.[33]

In 1533 the Vatican excommunicated Henry VIII for unsanctimoniously divorcing Catherine of Aragon and marrying Anne Boleyn. Henry VIII and Cromwell acted swiftly to monitor any nobles who challenged the king’s royal supremacy in religious affairs. Cromwell quickly developed a reputation for having spies everywhere and nobles feared to speak against the king in person or writing.[34] Cromwell expanded the central bureaucracy and made it more efficient, though his ‘network of spies’ was more myth than reality.[35] Cromwell’s reputation stemmed from his frequent engagement in treason trials and from the countless denunciations that came to his office from disgruntled people looking to use new anti-Catholic laws to punish enemies.[36] Furthermore local constables were in more frequent contact with the central state as they vied for royal patronage.[37] Ultimately, Cromwell’s reforms improved existing practices but did not greatly alter them. Domestic spying was largely done by untrained, informal means. The central state did not employ many spies nor did it direct the local constables who brought cases to it.[38] Cromwell’s major contribution was engendering public support for the state and actively pursuing intelligence-gathering and prosecution without altering the fundamental means of either.

In the 1570s-1580s Queen Elizabeth I’s (r. 1558-1603) principal secretary Francis Walsingham regularized communication between agents across the country in order to stave off the multiple threats by the Catholic underground.[39] Walsingham created a network of spies composed of aristocrats, the gentry, jailbirds and even petty criminals.[40] He had agents watch theaters to listen in on treasonous conversations.[41] Travelling merchants fed him information about international plots as Spanish and Italian nobles schemed with the English Catholic underground to overthrow Elizabeth and replace her with Mary, Queen of Scots.[42] 

Walsingham’s reputation as a spymaster surpassed that of Cromwell’s and all but the most daring dissidents wrote, spoke, or even thought of opposing the increasingly-powerful central state. Yet, just like Cromwell, Walsingham did not radically alter the nature of intelligence-gathering but merely improved the existing institutions. His agents were largely unprofessional and in his personal pay.[43] Informants were rewarded for ad hoc operations instead of routine surveillance.[44] Intelligence was centered around the person of Walsingham, who conducted business from his house, rather than in new institutions.[45] Finally, domestic spying was concentrated on the nobility, as the other classes were deemed incapable of posing a serious threat to the state’s power.

Even the beheading of the monarch did not change the nature of domestic intelligence-gathering. Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell and his secretary of state John Thurloe continued the expansion and centralization of the state bureaucracy. His control of the post office and censorship meant he naturally controlled internal intelligence as well as foreign.[46] His agents monitored large arms sales as they suspected weapons shipments could be used in a coup.[47] Papists were monitored.[48] Spying became more elaborate as Thurloe hired agents provocateurs and even managed to get a spy into the Sealed Knot, the main underground royalist conspiracy network.[49] Thurloe also employed cardinals who monitored other religious leaders for subversive beliefs.[50]

As before, Thurloe’s network was centered around him personally and used preexisting institutions and practices. He relied on local justices of the peace to control localities.[51] Information on domestic plots almost inevitably came unprompted from individuals looking for payment, patronage or revenge against an enemy.[52] In March 1655 royalist plotters began an uprising which they hoped would spread across the country, yet utterly failed. This convinced Thurloe and his agents that popular support was not with the royalists, meaning that additional improvements to domestic intelligence-gathering were unnecessary.[53] While Thurloe improved bureaucracy and spying techniques, domestic intelligence was still led by an informal network of largely unprofessional agents working with local justices of the peace and focused on small aristocratic conspiracies as the major threat to central state power.

During the Restoration intelligence was increasingly centralized.[54] One of Charles II’s (r. 1660-1685) main political allies, MP Joseph Williamson, kept a French-style cabinet noir, or black cabinet, in the fashion of Louis XIV’s, which monitored the post office.[55] Mail from suspect persons were opened and copied while non-suspect letters were opened in order to get a general mood of the country.[56] Cyphers, codes and code-breaking all became more sophisticated during his reign.[57] Yet, during the Restoration and after the Glorious Revolution the mechanisms of domestic intelligence-gathering and the subjects of surveillance remained the same. An individual close to the monarch headed an informal network of semi-professional agents who read suspect persons’ mail, listened to their conversations in public and infiltrated their private circles. Finally, local notables were monitored indirectly through justices of the peace. While the information state expanded and became increasingly rational it did not significantly change until the French Revolution.

The 15th-17th Century Aristocrats Contest Power, France

France faced a similar pattern of rebuilding after the Hundred Years’ War, chaos during the Reformation and then consolidation of domestic intelligence services. After Louis XI (1461-1483) succeeded his father in 1461 he embarked on a mission to centralize and rationalize the state around his person. Louis XI’s previous exile in Italy exposed him to Renaissance-era statecraft, prompting him to reduce the number of offices and make more demands on existing ones.[58] Louis XI regularly travelled around France inspecting towns, while maintaining a courier service to keep him abreast of happenings across the kingdom.[59] These practices earned him the moniker ‘The Universal Spider.’[60] However, this was greatly exaggerated as business was conducted on interpersonal levels and information-services remained unprofessional. The central government remained the person of Louis XI and his immediate advisors.[61]

The professionalization of bureaucracy occurred in the early 16th century under François I (r. 1515-1547), who began an enormous expansion of the French civil service. François I and his successors notably brought the middle class into the state.[62] This was partly due to these monarchs’ attempts to create an ordered state, as France was the most populous country in Europe outside Russia, yet had a woefully-small bureaucracy. Another reason is that France regularly sold offices to pay off debts. The French Wars of Religion were extremely costly and the central state created and sold offices in order to raise capital. As the state raised capital more people were needed to count, manage and spend this money, creating a snowball effect wherein creating and selling offices to bureaucrats necessitated hiring more of them. In 1515 there were 5,000 civil servants. In 1665 this increased to 50,000.[63]

François I’s successor Henry II (r. 1547-1559) created the permanent secrétaire d’état, an office that endured until the Revolution, which had “charge of correspondence concerning affairs of state, and prepare[d] despatches and replies.”[64] This was an important step in the development of French bureaucracy as the central state emerged as its own entity separate from the monarchy. Despite these measures, divided loyalties meant that the conseil des affaires, the meeting of the secretaries of state and king, proved inefficient in its monitoring and combating of aristocratic conspiracies, opening the door to civil war.[65]

The French Wars of Religion damaged the central state and its ability to collect information. During the wars the kings were constantly undermined by rivals (namely the House of Guise) and internal problems, limiting their control over the state.[66] By the turn of the 17th century the French Wars of Religion finally ended with the triumph of Henry IV (r. 1589-1610). A strong, well-organized central state emerged from the wars while the aristocracy lost much of its ability to contest power.[67] While many aristocratic houses revolted against the French monarchy during the wars, they came to rely on the monarchy and its royal commissioners to dictate peace settlements between Catholics and Huguenots.[68] After the devastating wars, most French aristocrats and middle class realized that only a strong central state could maintain peace and willingly accepted it.

The great transformation of the French state occurred during the seventy-two year reign of the Sun King, Louis XIV (r. 1643-1715). Louis XIV was notably traumatized by the Fronde uprising (1648-1659) which erupted when he was a mere 10 years’ old. When the regency ended and he became the sole ruler of France he resolved to bring the old aristocracy to heel and centralize power in his own person, something which he accomplished beyond the imaginings of any contemporary monarch. Louis XIV and his ministers created one of the largest, most efficient bureaucracies the world had ever seen with an unrivaled consistent stream of correspondence.[69] Domestic intelligence-gathering reached unapparelled sophistication and presence under Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Marquess of Torcy, nephew of Louis XIV’s more well-known minister of finance Jean-Baptiste Colbert. Despite its name, the Foreign Office under Torcy engaged in domestic affairs as it stored and processed information to shape “the opinions and actions of decision-makers at the centre and the king’s operatives in the provinces and abroad.”[70] It also directly administered some provinces, meaning its functions far-exceeded just foreign affairs.[71]

The Foreign Office acted as the information-processing hub for Louis XIV’s expansive spy networks. Information was relayed to Louis XIV and decisions were issued back through the Foreign Office to police and the military to suppress seditious words, actions and people. The Foreign Office regularly hosted meetings with the lieutenant-general of the Paris police as they engaged in habitual crackdowns on seditious activity in Paris and the court.[72] The police forces regularly employed spies and frequently arrested foreigners suspected of seditious activity.[73] Louis XIV empowered police to monitor and arrest suspect persons and employed both secret police and regular agents to suppress dissent. Police regularly conducted sweeps of bookstores for seditious writing and examined private papers.[74] The Foreign Office and Paris police reserved the right to review the personal papers of any dying person, particularly those of state functionaries.[75]

The police monitored seditious speech as well as writing.[76] Police frequently monitored foreign diplomats and the French aristocrats who hosted them.[77] Police hired doctors, lawyers, writers and domestic servants to report on their masters if they were critical of the regime.[78] By the end of the Ancien Régime there were 340 police spies operating in Paris.[79] The most infamous police practice was the lettre de cachet wherein the police could imprison a person without trial on behalf of the king.[80]

The most famous domestic-intelligence-gathering apparatus of Louis XIV’s government was the cabinet noir, a secret office which opened and copied letters sent through the post office from suspect persons.[81] The cabinet noir was so well-known that aristocrats feared saying anything that might be taken as seditious as they assumed that their mail would be intercepted and read by the Foreign Office. English sources recounting their experience with the French mail service demonstrate this air of fear:

     “Matthew Prior warned the Earl of Portland: ­ ‘I wrote no plainer, because I take it for granted that all my letters are broke open; it is for this reason that I do not send you word of two or three other things of this kind of which I write to Mr. Secretary.’ Madame complained to her German cousins that just because ‘letters are properly sealed does not mean anything; they have a material made of mercury and other stuff that can be pressed onto a seal, where it takes on the shape of the seal … After they have read and copied the letters, they neatly reseal them and no one can see that they have been opened.’ In the hands a supple, perceptive, well-informed foreign minister such as Torcy, the Cabinet noir became a formidable weapon and was extremely active during his tenure. To divine the designs of foreign powers or those in contact with them, Torcy largely confined his surveillance to political correspondence originating in, entering, or traversing France. Marlborough confided to his wife: ‘I dare not write anything by the post what I must expect may be seen by the French.’”[82]

Torcy’s agents largely intercepted mail from foreigners and suspect persons. However, Torcy’s successor systematically monitored “the personal and private affairs of the great of the court and capital in order to share juicy gossip with the regent.”[83]

The Ancien Régime Triumphs

By the 18th century the English and French central states finally secured themselves against aristocratic threats. This was accomplished due to three primary reasons. First, the central state developed a complex system of repression specifically targeted against aristocratic plots. Second, the state increased its presence, authority and direct administration across its domains, usurping power from aristocrats. Finally, the emergence of a middle class into the state bureaucracy decreased the power of the aristocracy. Before the rise of a middle class, power was divided between the monarch and their vassals. The monarch’s dependence on their vassals meant they exercised a level of power over the central state. The middle class’ economic ascendance and entry into civil service meant there was a new section of bureaucrats into governance. As the central state waxed and the aristocracy waned the middle class drew patronage from the central state and were more loyal to it than aristocrats.

England after the Glorious Revolution and France from Louis XIV to Louis XVI (r. 1774-1792) created a successful surveillance apparatus targeted against their troublesome aristocracies. However, these domestic surveillance organizations and practices were woefully unprepared to meet the new challenges that the Age of Revolutions inaugurated. Ironically, the Ancien Régime’s anti-aristocratic bureaucracy aided its own demise. The French state created an immense bureaucracy staffed by middle-class administrators who managed the state while having little say over how it was run. By 1789 France had a large body of well-trained, well-connected middle-class bureaucrats who were versed in Enlightenment literature and discontented with their lack of power within the French state. The outbreak of the French Revolution ended the Aristocratic Age as the Age of the Masses violently overthrew the old order.

[1] Edward Higgs, The Information State in England: The Central Collection of Information on Citizens Since 1500 (London: Palgrave, 2003) 2.

[2] Ibid., 4.

[3] Ibid., 67

[4] Chris Given-Wilson, The Royal Household and the King's Affinity: Service, Politics and Finance (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 1986), 7.

[5] W.L. Warren The Governance of Norman and Angevin England, 1086-1272 (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1987), 62.

[6] Ibid., 60.

[7] Ibid., XIV.

[8] Ibid., XIV-XV.

[9] Ibid., 60.

[10] Ibid., 68-9, the Domesday Book didn’t wasn’t just used for taxation but as a means to allocate pensions and patronage.

[11] Ibid., 106-7, 133-4

[12] Ibid., 100.

[13] Ibid., 65.

[14] Baldwin, John W. The Government of Philip Augustus: Foundations of French Royal Power in the Middle Ages (Berkeley, California: University of California Press, 1986). 220-1.

[15] Ibid., 249.

[16] Ibid., 282-4.

[17] Ibid., 264-5.

[18] Ibid., 266.

[19] Ibid., 269-273.

[20] Norman J. G. Pounds and Charles C. Roome, “Population Density in Fifteenth Century France and the Low Countries,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 61, No. 1 (Mar., 1971): 118.

[21] Ibid., 117

[22] Ibid.

[23] Ibid., 120-1.

[24] Gaston Dodu, “Le roi de Bourges ou dix-neuf ans de la vie de Charles VII,” Revue historique, 159, (Winter 1928): 341.

[25] Often these were imposters. S.B. Chrimes, Henry VII,  (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 1972), 68-70.

[26] Ibid., 71.

[27] Ibid., 75-6.

[28] Ibid., 78.

[29] Emmanuel Le Roy Laduire, The Royal French State 1460-1610 (Oxford: Blackwell, 1987), 53.

[30] John Guy, Tudor England (Oxford: Oxford University Press: 1988), 92.

[31] Ibid., 167-8.

[32] Ibid., 171.

[33] Ibid., 170-1.

[34] G.R. Elton, Policy and Police: The Enforcement of the Reformation in the Age of Thomas Cromwell (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972), 327-9.

[35] Ibid., 327.

[36] Ibid., 331.

[37] Ibid., 332-3.

[38] Ibid., 382.

[39] John Cooper, The Queen’s Agent: Francis Walsingham at the Court of Elizabeth I (New York: Pegasus Books, 2013), 90-91.

[40] Philip Aubrey, Mr. Secretary Thurloe: Cromwell’s Secretary of State 1652-1660, (London: Athlone Press Ltd., 1990), 170-178.

[41] Ibid., 180.

[42] Ibid., 175-6.

[43] Ibid., 175.

[44] Ibid., 182.

[45] Ibid., 167.

[46] Ibid., 94.

[47] Ibid., 98-99.

[48] Ibid., 105

[49] Ibid., 97, 110.

[50] Ibid., 107.

[51] Ibid., 111-113.

[52] Ibid., 106.

[53] Ibid., 99-102.

[54] Alan Marshall, Intelligence and Espionage in the Reign of Charles II 1660-1685 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994) 28.

[55] Ibid., 33.

[56] Ibid., 78-79

[57] Ibid., 89-91.

[58] Paul Murray Kendall, Louis XI: The Universal Spider (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1971), 116.

[59] Ibid., 115.

[60] Ibid.

[61] Ibid., 125.

[62] Emmanuel Le Roy Laduire, The Royal French State 1460-1610, 129.

[63] Ibid., 130.

[64] N.M. Sutherland. The French Secretaries of State In the Age of Catherine de Medici (Westport Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1962), 29-30.

[65] Ibid., 41.

[66] Mack Holt. The French Wars of Religion 1562-1629 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 107-8. A powerful rival to the French monarchs was Catherine de Medici who ruled as Queen-Regent. As an Italian notable she was well-versed in Italian diplomacy and subterfuge, which she used to great effect. For more information see N.M Sutherland, The French Secretaries of State in the Age of Catherine de Medici.

[67] Mack Holt. The French Wars of Religion 1562-1629, 210-211.

[68] Ibid., 213.

[69] John C. Rule, and Ben S. Trotter, A World of Paper: Louis XIV, Colbert de Torcy, and the Rise of the Information State (Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University’s Press, 2014), 2.

[70] Ibid., 7.

[71] Ibid., 8.

[72] Ibid., 43

[73] Ibid., 203.

[74] Ibid., 272

[75] Ibid., 330

[76] Ibid., 334.

[77] Ibid., 364.

[78] Mark Mazower, ed.. The Policing of Politics in the Twentieth Century (Oxford: Berghan Books, 1997) 3.

[79] Ibid.

[80] John C. Rule, and Ben S. Trotter, A World of Paper, 345-6.

[81] Ibid., 212.

[82] Ibid., 345-6.

[83] Ibid., 346.