Off With Your Head

Liberté! Égalité! Fraternité!    

A journal on the French Revolution…

Michelle—as Erwann

 

June 20th, 1789  Erwann

“It all starts with a budding idea; you nurture it with fear and discontentment, and it turns into a revolution”. This is a quote that I have recently encountered in a book, and it matches perfectly with the current situation of France. The third estate has been dissatisfied with the taxation system for hundreds of years, and the drought this year is the final straw that breaks the camel’s back. Even at this time of night, the road is crowded with peasants celebrating their newfound victory. I hear my father’s angry murmuring on the other side of the wall. After hours of strolling back and fourth, he finally turned his lights off and fell fast asleep. I heard his steady breathing minutes later, accompanied by a few snores here and there.

I turned my lights on, and changed silently from my pajamas into normal clothes. I put a big pillow underneath my mattress, just in case anyone would come in my room in the middle of the night. Afterwards, I turned off the lights, left my door half open, and quietly snuck out of my house, embracing the cool wind and pale moonlight. I walked on the now silent street. There are still confetti and broken wine bottles everywhere, not yet cleaned up from the celebration just hours earlier. I turned in an inconspicuous corner into the hidden road, one that has been abandoned over time.

There stood a run-down bar, standing proud and lonely in the high wind. I took a deep breath and walked inside. There is quiet music playing in the background, and I see the familiar dark figure sitting in the tall chair. He turned around hearing my footstep, and ran forward to meet me; “Finally! Erwann, I am so glad to see you!” He is wearing ragged clothes, but his wide grin is stretched from ear to ear. “Did you hear about what happened earlier today?” He continued excitedly. “I was there! I was at the tennis court! The King was so nasty he locked the Third Estate representatives out of the meeting of the Estate Generals, refusing to let us become our own National Assembly. So we…”

Cover Image: Crowd watching people on the guillotine.

He left the sentence midway and grabbed a cup with beer on the table gobbling it down, not caring about its sanitary qualities or otherwise. “We made a makeshift conference room inside a tennis court near the palace of Versailles, almost everyone signed the pledge.” He paused, then murmured “Only Joseph Martin-Dauch didn’t, so that would be 576 our of 577. That scaredy-cat.”

I listened as he went on and on. Antoine and I hold an unlikely friendship. He is an orphan living on the streets, whereas I live comfortably as a noble, not having a care in the world. Parties, girls, franc… They are all within my reach. I can help Antoine with simply a few words to my servants, but his proud nature prevents me to do so. He has lived a tough life, surviving under harsh conditions. It is reasonable for him to want to fight back at the absolute monarchy of King Louis XVI. However, I am tormented between conflicting feelings. A part of me feels sympathetic for Antoine, and honestly, he deserves a chance for his talents to shine and be noticed. The other part of me wants everything to stay exactly the same, so I can live my relaxed, extravagant, and worry-free life to the fullest.

After talking to him for hours, I finally snuck back to my mansion, and flew to my dreams. I know that by dawn, nothing will ever be the same.

Painting of the Tennis Court Oath happening on June 20th, 1789.

July 15th, 1789

The peasants have just crossed the line. I was tolerant of them, because I felt sympathetic for their abhorrent experience. But now, that slight emotion has just flew out the window. Yesterday, 80 thousand people stormed the Bastille prison. This prison has been standing for 400 years, and it is a symbol of authority for King Louis and us. Their actions are like giving us a blow in the face. My parents were outrageous, and they were letting their anger out on everyone around them. I can often hear them teasing and abusing our poor servants.

I feel betrayed, because Antoine was one of the people who led the assault toward the Bastille prison. He knows perfectly well what the bastille means to us, and what it means to me. Bastille is a symbol of authority to the nobles, and it has been around even before I was born! I am between crossroads, unsure of what to do. One path leads to the revolution, and I will be fighting my family for the rights of the Third Estate peasants. The other path leads to luxury and comfort, and I will stand next to my family against the revolution. Even though I know that rationally I am suppose to be sabotaging and against the revolution, deep down I would like to aid the revolution despite all my reasoning. I met up with Antoine again tonight. This time he is more sober, and he automatically assumed that I would be on his, and the revolution’s side. After all, I know of all the hardships he has been through, and his talents are still unrecognized. I imagined how Antoine would react if I tell him that I decided not to support the revolution. Once, he found out that I have been secretly helping him, and he exploded with anger; I changed from physical to moral support ever since, and that was the last time we had a heated argument. I am torn between two feelings; I cannot bear to let Antoine down, but I know that my responsibility stays with my family. In the end, I accused him of the storming of the Bastille. Dead silence followed, and for once I was yearning to leave. I was about to turn and walk, but he told me to wait. His voice was so cold it made me shudder involuntarily. He calmly told me all the unfairness he has encountered

since his childhood; he was jealous of me, of all my opportunities, but I was not using them to its full potential. However, he treated me as I treated him, with respect and admiration. I began to understand him, but held firm to my position and responsibilities. After his long speech, he gave me a look of disappointment and walked away, oblivious to my desperate calls. I sat inside the lonely bar, drinking and staring into space until the morning sun appeared.

I came to my senses and quickly went back home. Lying on the bed, I can’t help but think about what Antoine said. He made me realize that indulging in materials does not make me better; instead I should use all the opportunities that I am provided. I have taken them for granted, but not anymore. I thank him for making me realize the better things in life, but I grasp to my principles, and I cannot leave my family behind. The fall of the Bastille is the first steps of the revolution, and this idea needs to be stifled before it is fully formed. I need to warn my parents about this, they cannot be reckless anymore, for one wrong step may cause them to tumble off the cliff.

Angry peasants storming the Bastille prison, which has been standing for over 400 years.

October 6th, 1789

The streets are full of chaos and noise; I am sitting in my chair, contemplating about what has happened in the past few months. How did everything get to this place? Yesterday morning, I had just woken up from a great night’s sleep without being disturbed. I opened my curtains and felt the sun shine on my skin, savoring the warmth. I then opened the window and inhaled deeply; it is a new day. Just as I was about to flop on my bed again and have another short nap, I was interrupted by chaotic shouts right outside of my window. I tried to ignore them, but their quarrels were just too loud. I was about to yell at them, but I was immediately engaged as I moved closer and heard what they were saying. A group of housewives were complaining to about the high price and scarcity of bread. I rolled my eyes and looked towards the kitchen piled with food; how could there possibly be bread shortage? I would never believe such thing. For a second I thought of offering them bread from my kitchen, but I know that my parents will be outrageous, and I thought to myself, why bother; it is none of my business. I closed my window, lay on my bed, and left this event at the back of my mind.

If I had known that this quarrel would aggravate into the March to Versailles, I would have done everything I could to stop it. As it turns out, later the angry mob encountered the revolutionaries and their allies; they were persuaded to ransack the city armory for weapons. Afterwards, they marched to the King’s palace in Versailles, on the west side of Paris. The crowd surrounded the Paris, and confronted the King Louis XVI with violence. They successfully forced their demands upon the King, and compelled the King and the French Assembly to return to Paris with them this morning. This news thrilled the peasants, and discouraged nobles like me. I fear that this event will weaken the king’s absolute power. The fact that the mob succeeded in pressing their demands on the King motivated revolutionaries, and things are getting out of hand. The march symbolizes a balance in power, and favored the rights of common people. This event diminished the authority of nobles, and I can’t help but feel like I could have done something to stop it.

Another thing that I would like to mention is my friendship with Antoine. He is no longer a part of my life, and we act like strangers if we are ever to meet on the street. Everything is changing so fast, although I desperately want everything to be the way they always were. Everything is different after I told him my position, but I do not regret my choice, not for a second. If I get to choose again, I would do the exact same thing in the blink of an eye. There is no way that I will betray my family, not in a million years. No matter what happens later, I will be responsible for the decisions I make. I heard that the King is planning to sign the first French Constitution, and that is going to reduce our power even more. For now, I will just have to hold on to what I have while it lasts. This is not the end; nothing is radically different. I believe that there is still opportunity for salvation. If both sides move back a step, we can prevent riots and possibly a civil war.  

 

Women’s March to Versailles due to the high price and shortage of bread.

July 30th, 1794

How did everything get to this place; it seems like just yesterday when I was chatting with Antoine, just yesterday when I was with my parents laughing at the dining table. Back then, my deepest troubles were the work from my tutors. So much has occurred in the past few years; I am left tired and worn out by all the changes that happened to France. The days of entertainment and leisure are long gone, and the French Monarchy is nowhere to be seen. I have held on to my beliefs, and survived through the peasant’s anger. I am still walking on thin ice; one wrong move and my head will end up rolling off the guillotine.

Over the years my family has lost many of our former noble friends due to their reckless behaviors. Nobles have lost their former privileges, and lives more harshly than the peasants. They spoke harshly of the new government system, and were forced to enter the prison. Death awaits them, and they were tortured before sent onto the guillotine to be slaughtered, like animals. Others attempted to escape France, but few succeeded. They tried to cross the ocean and enter England, everybody’s safe haven. My parents and I considered this idea, but it was dampened when our friends were caught on the run, and received a death penalty. As long as we don't do anything out of the line, surviving in France will not be our biggest problem. As soon as our grand château was stormed and rid of all provisions, most of our servants abandoned my parents except for one. Melissa and I hid while the peasants raided our home, and my parents were half alive when we found them. Fortunately, our family owned a discreet house near the border of Paris. We camouflaged as tradesman, and fled overnight. We have been living there inconspicuously ever since. However, we received news about the terror spreading across Paris every single day, and it is never less frightening.

People executed on the Guillotine

Our new government excused the ongoing bloodshed by saying they were protecting the revolution by executing the “enemies of the revolution”. The first thing that they did was executing our beloved king; Louis XVI and his queen Marie Antoinette. We have been peacefully living here for almost a year now, and has finally made through the toughest part. After the French troops won the war with Austria, the abhorrent tyrant Maximilien Robespierre was finally overthrown, which led to the end of the Reign of Terror. My family was overwhelmed with joy after we received the news from a messenger coming from the city of Paris. Since the news was spreading everywhere, it took an entire day for the news to reach here, and we will be leaving to Paris again tomorrow. There is not much luggage for me to pack, since we only brought things that are vital for our survival, mostly food.

This place is very meaningful to me, and I feel like I have suddenly grown up in this period of time. Melissa was not able to complete all the work by herself, and I often had to help her whenever I am free. She taught me many necessary skills to survive, and even to make a living. She would make straw hats out of the limited resources at the barren area, and sell them to neighboring farmers living around. I gathered wood and medicine inside the small forest nearby, and sold them for a costly price. My knowledge was also put into good use, as I taught the kids how to read and write, in exchange for rations and meat. After the Reign of Terror, we will be adapting to great changes, including rebuilding our home. I will always remember my time here, and I know I am ready for whatever obstacle is facing us back in Paris.

Many things changed after the revolution, such as the taxation system. Before, taxing is nothing for us to worry, about, and the burden is on the Third-Estate. However, nowadays taxes are divided among all three estates in France. Also, France created new constitutions, which limited our power as nobles. The government system changed from monarchy to a republic, but I doubt that this will be lasting very long. There are also things that stayed the same; looking on the streets, I do not notice the situation getting any better for the peasants, and they were still poor. Furthermore, guillotine continues to be the execution system in France even after the Reign of Terror came to an end.

 

Citations “Reign of Terror." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 18 Mar. 2016. <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reign_of_Terror>. “White Rough Paper." Blogspot. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Mar. 2016. <http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JGg35QjGIE/T-

Grr4Osf0I/AAAAAAAACak/FNFeNizlEsM/s1600/White-Rough-Paper.jpg>. “Political Reform and Fall of the Bastille (1789)." Political Reform and Fall of the Bastille (1789). N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Mar. 2016.

<http://www.fsmitha.com/h3/h33-fr2.htm>. March to Versailles. Digital image. March to Versailles and French Revolutionary War. N.p., n.d. Web. 19 Mar. 2016.

<https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/eb/Women%27s_March_on_Versailles01.jpg/400px-Women%27s_March_on_Versailles01.jpg>

     

Citations:

"Reign of Terror." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 18 Mar. 2016. <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reign_of_Terror>.

"White Rough Paper." Blogspot. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Mar. 2016. <http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JGg35QjGIE/T-Grr4Osf0I/AAAAAAAACak/FNFeNizlEsM/s1600/White-Rough-Paper.jpg>.

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