Elkazor
01-09-2005, 07:01
((Well here it is folks, the first of my last posts that conclude the story of Restoration France. Enjoy. If any members wish to join this SL, please fell free to do so. However, this SL has taken alot of time and effort on my part, so I insist that before posting you TG me and inform me of who IC wise is going to get involved in the French Revolution. This means some country cant just say "I invade France with this and that." Im sorry, you must get my permission to play in this little game. Again, enjoy!))
The Revolution started, as political events always do, with the howls of lawyers and that particular brand of usurpation unique to the legal system.
That, and, of course, the well executed plans and operations of a conspiratorial cabal…as shall soon be seen.
Twenty years after the Second Restoration of Their Most Christian Kings France seemed to again function under the auspices of the Ancien Regime.
His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste sat upon the Lily Throne in Versailles, a popular figure seen as a more dutiful if somewhat more boorish version of his august father. The Queen Consort was Her Serene Highness Jillesepone, whose popularity had been much increased due to her giving birth to a Dauphin Louis-Ferdinand-Charles-Wingert de Bourbon et Parma et de Estenlands, now four years old. Her fecundity and esteem was sealed with the additional births of le Duc de Berry Louis-Charles-Francis, Louis-Auguste’s second son, now three, and Madame Royale Charlotte-Therese, the charming royal daughter of seven months. Although greeted by the introverted Court as an ‘Easterner’, her child-bearing brought with Madame Jillesepone’s acceptance as a true Frenchwomen, moreover a true Queen. Quite recently, this behind the scenes iron handed princess soon found her way onto the King’s Coseil d’Etat itself. She was not a giddy Queen, and her gravity and poise marked her as sovereign in the midst of the Court no less than King Louis.
His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste (http://www.visitvoltaire.com/images/louis_16_26k.jpg)
Her Serence Highness Queen Jillesepone (http://www.khm.at/data/page1747/Maria_Theresia250.jpg)
France’s Royal Family indeed thrived; the Queen Dowager Marie-Therese still resided in Versailles and His Majesty Louis-Auguste was aided in ruling by his four brothers (each with growing sub-royal families themselves), the Princes of the Blood. All sat upon the Conseil d’Etat, and collectively to the people of France they were known as Messieurs. From oldest to youngest they were: le Comte d’Artois, 29, le Comte d’Provence 27, le Duc de Normandie, 25, and le Duc de Aquitaine, 24. Artois was Lieutenant General of the Armies, Provence the First Lord of the Admiralty, Normandie was given the Municipal Constabulary and Aquitaine (hailed as the most ravishingly handsome of the Bourbon brood) was captain of his own football team and acknowledged as the most proliferate gigolo in France’s colorful Ars Amore. Despite Aquitaine’s qualities, or maybe because of them, the youngest Prince was the favorite brother of the King, who without complaint paid his ruinous bills and sent the paparazzi who knew too much of the young lover to the Bastille (the young Prince having indiscriminately made more than a few videos of his evenings, with more than a few partners…of both sexes).
Her Higheness Queen Dowager Marie-Therese (http://www.wallacecollection.org/c/w_a/p_w_d/f/jpg/p437.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Comte d'Artois (http://www.bibliopsy.com/Revolution/images/0225.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Comte d'Provence (http://www.diagnopsy.com/Revolution/images/0017.jpg )
His Royal Highness le Duc de Normandie (http://www.madamedepompadour.com/_m_antonietta_fersen/images/fersen/fers_img/fers_fam/fers_fam3.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Duc de Aquitaine (http://www.madamedepompadour.com/_m_antonietta_fersen/images/fersen/fers_img/fers_fam/fers_fam2.jpg )
Le Conseil de Ministre’s was the single greatest royal bastion in France, its members entrusted with the day to day governing of the Kingdom’s various departments and bureaucracies. His Most Christian Majesty Louis XX’s Chief Minister had been le Cardinal de Terray, and a fine job he had done. Yet upon Louis-Auguste’s unlikely ascension to the Throne in the wake of his father’s murder, the young King did not wish to have a Chief Minister at all, wishing to rule absolutely as his ancestor Louis XIV did and after that his father eventually as well. So it came to pass that he summoned to his side perhaps the keenest political mind in France: Monsieur le Comte de Maurepas. This brilliant royalist and devotee of le Cardinal de Richelieu had tutored the King, then Dauphin, in his youth. So, upon his ascension, Louis-Auguste dismissed Terray to his estates (having found him a libertine with a penchant for domineering) and brought in his dear mentor to the highest apartments of Versailles. A charming story is told of their first meeting together in each their new offices.
Maurepas shut himself in with the King, only two days after Louis XX’s death, and they had a long conversation. Louis-Auguste began by thanking him; then Maurepas spoke.
“Cardinal de Terray was accused of having prolonged your father’s childhood in order to be master for a greater length of time” he said. “I do not want to deserve such a reproach, and if you see fit, I shall be nothing, as far as the public is concerned. I shall be here for you alone: let your ministers’ work with you. I shall never speak to them in your name and I shall not undertake to speak to you for them. Only do not make up your mind upon matters that are outside the ordinary daily run; let us have one or two conferences a week, and if you have acted too hastily, I will tell you. In a word, I will be your man, yours alone, and nothing beyond that. If you choose to be your own Prime Minister, as your August Father decided at length to do, you can, by dint of hard work; and I offer you the help of my experience: but never loose sight of the fact that if you do not wish to do so, or if you feel unable to do so, then you must necessarily choose one.”
“You have grasped my meaning exactly,” said the King. “That is precisely what I hoped for from you.”
From that day onwards Maurepas was ever at the King side, advising him how to maintain the absolutist regime of things. Other than that remarkable man, who was appointed “President of the Conseil d’Etat” (a official post with no real power, save the vital direct access to the King’s sacred body that le Comte required), His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste maintained the charges of his father. Monsieur le Marquis de Miromesnil, a fabulously rich debauchee yet steadfastly loyal royalist, was maintained as Keeper of the Seals. Le Duc de Liancourt remained Ministre de la Maison du Roi, Minister of the King’s Household, a key post. Le Baron de Besenval, a favorite of Queen-Dowager Marie-Therese who combined martiality with wit and was a doughty Switzer to boot, stayed at his post of Commander of the Bodyguard. Charles-Gravier le Comte de Vergennes, perhaps the most brilliant and conservative statesmen in Europe since Metternich, kept his charge as Minister of State. M. de Saint-Germain, a harsh man of Prussian ancestry stayed Minister of War, and Monsieur de Sartine kept the Naval Ministry. Goodman Hugh Enot, the enormously popular and protestant Comptroller General guarded the realms finances, and Francois-Aldonse le Marquis de Calonne kept the Ministry of Commerce.
M. de Maurepas (http://www.mauritia.de/de/rokoko/calonne.jpg)
M. de Besenval (http://www.mrhorse.com/artgal/pictures/Besenval.jpg)
The Estates General dissimulated the wishes of the absolute monarch.
The First Estate, the Catholic Church, enjoyed perhaps the greatest success following the Restoration. The Holy Catholic Church owned about 1/10 of all land in France, using it to both provide income for themselves and for the realm with ultra-generous tax benefices. Their Majesties Louis XX and Louis-Auguste were devout individuals, and the Church ever had the closet position to the Lily Throne. France was a Catholic country in fact as well as name, though Protestantism was tolerated by decree.
The Second Estate, the Nobility, acted as the glue which held the monarchy together. Taken together, from the highest Duc to the lowest Baronne, they formed everything from the officer corps of the Royal Army to the captains of industry to the simple managers of country farms and government bureaucracy any state must have to survive. Some nobles served as the highest crust of the aristocracy, spending their days in the salons of Versailles and basking in the presence of the King himself. Others had nothing but their tri-corner hat and petite sword to indicate their status, yet were nevertheless held as the virtual law in towns and villages across France.
And the Third Estate: this body constituted everybody else who was not in the Clergy or Nobility. The members of this assembly, the size of the first two Estates combined, ran the gambit from factory owners, professionals such as doctors and lawyers, to the middle class bourgeoisie that kept the society funded. Of utmost interest to all was the fact the Third Estate received a huge influx of ambitious attorneys into its ranks, well connected to boot.
Within France the states commerce, although functioning within the parameters of a modern market with all the technology and gadgetry thus entailed, was run under the intricate Guild System managed under Mercantilist principles. Serfs were just as liable, if not more so, to find an automobile concern as their master as some rural fief’s manor lord. The Louis D’or proved a stable currency, together with the previous financial elements combining to provide a sound economy: one in which inflation had been halted, and in which the lands GDP continued to rise steadily.
In foreign adventures the Restoration Government had acquitted itself admirably. Algeria was run by the King’s Bourbon step-brother, Louis I, and was a colony of lucrative qualities. New Caledonia and New Provence (French Guiana) provided the two other large French satellites, both bustling hubs of Gallic power in their own respective regions. The Holy League, that brain-child of Louis XX, assured orthodox religion and feudal dominance in Europe.
The Royal Army, those elite corps which swore loyalty to the King alone, were well paid and content. The regular armed forces relaxed and enjoyed the fruits of peacetime, limiting themselves to various but lenient exercises.
But how so, if the realm was so strong and content, a Revolution?
A series of damned unfortunate events: a traffic collision, the breakdown of the legal system vis-à-vis contemptibly corrupt and arrogant lawyers coinciding with and completed by the execution of a brilliant conspiracy.
In France during the Restoration the enforcement of the law was assigned to various Parlements, one for each of the provinces, and the most influential de facto being the Parlement de Paris. It was this body, singularly, which still mounted opposition to His Most Christian Majesties Government. When the Parlements were first assembled twenty years ago at the dawn of the Restoration, their members were solid royalists who owed direct debts to the King. They all, unfortunately, shared one common fault: age. Almost all of them were over 70 years of age upon appointment. Soon, they all began to pass on after truly valiant and conservative legislations, and there to fill the void was a rich, ambitious, young, and idealistic legal corpi who mastered the Sorbonne itself in Paris. A number of attorneys had been appointed to the Parlement de Paris, the organ of the Third Estate and a hotbed of the only remaining bastion of the French left, a wealthy and growingly militant left to be sure.
These positions and those to staff them were demanded by the most vocal, vain, most progressive and most dangerous voice of the nobility: Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres, Dominic-Etienne, who was cousin to Louis-Auguste himself and twas whispered the richest man in the extended Bourbon network outside the Royal Family proper. He, who was descended from the line of the cursed d’Orleans, soon was accepted back into Court as a pledge of his father, le Comte de Angouleme. Le Comte, Henri-Phillipe, had atoned for his ancestors’ evil ways in the eyes of Louis XX, and was given the Palais-Royale in Paris and invited to resume his position at Court. Angouleme was one of those first appointed lawyers, who died in droves to the horror of the keen eyes of those who served the crown. Amid harsh critique of his libertine son and bemoaning the terror of lawyers to come, Henri-Philippe expired by ravaging strokes two days after Louis XX’s assassination, most said of a broken heart.
The King was busy with matters of Empire, and indeed both Their Christian Majesties Louis XX and Louis-Auguste were astoundingly successful in this regard. Once the international crisis’ that marked the early Restoration and abated and France had Algeria and booty besides, the Throne turned to domestic matters, though it never entirely shunned them at any time rather than entrusting them to various Ministres d’Etat…alas that Chartres was one such Ministre to the Parlement de Paris! During the early period, the crown was forced to concede the appointments to preserve internal tranquility and the appearance of a united land at war, the aforementioned clique of lawyers were allowed to become Jurors of the Parliament de Paris. Slowly but surely, this cadre of spoiled aristocrats turned demagogues---for such they were having no working class connections at all, asserted itself via the Parliament de Paris as having authority to formulate and administer law. Taken in small amounts His Most Christian Majesty was able to pit the Jurors against each other with threats and cajoling; when in large doses though the Parlement became vehement and toxic, to which the only cure was a [/I]Lit de Justice[/I] (literally a bed of justice because the King sat on cushions under and canopy of gold while he forced the dissenting entity to register the Crown’s Will) was a heavy handed response.
Led by their patron the Duc de Chartres, whom they felt shielded them from the full extent of the Kings sword, they seized upon the opportunity of a damned unlucky and wholly ghastly traffic accident, the twain ills being the aggressor and victims.
It all began on a sunny southern road in Lower Gascony, King’s Highway 31 to be precise and approximately fifteen miles north of delightful Bayonne; a popular resort town amongst the jet-set crowd.
A cherry red Ferrari screamed along the coastal thoroughfare, affording beautiful vista’s as the engine roared with gears being slammed ever higher. Everyone in France knew who drove it, it was a model especially ordered from the factory in Rome with beyond par engine and seal skin interior, its body decorated with links of pretty white roses made of pearl: Mademoiselle Antoinette-Elise du Barry, a ravishing blonde beauty who was none other than the primary mistress of His Deceased Majesty, Louis XX. Wearing all white in her white leather chair and her long thick wheaten hair waving around atop bronze legs that went forever and a bust that obscured them from her view she was both beautiful and oblivious…in her right hand she smoked a rather large marijuana cigarette, giggling as one of her girlfriends chatted with her on the speaker phone.
She was easily at 140 M.P.H. now but perhaps the finest sports car ever made took it all in stride, thrumming along with the purr of a pride of lions.
It took less than two seconds for her to completely destroy the little Renault economy car the Ferrari broadsided, glass and steel screamed as the accident sent shards of both high into the air.
When the dust settled the beauty whose curves had enslaved a king stumbled from her car with one of her dainty white stilettos broken; of course the vehicle was designed to withstand any collision, able to even absorb a bit of light arms fire. She surveyed the scene with horror as she glanced at her victims. For, driving the little Renault were two valets, elder men who had the look of being in service. They wore the livery of, of all rotten chances, le Duc de Chartres.
As a result of this accident both valets hovered near death at a local hospital, Antoinette had to get one of her girlfriends to come pick her up, and the seeds for a monumental Revolution quickened to perverted life.
Turn your thoughts now to the Palais-Royale, the opulent dwelling of Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres in the heart of Paris. At the darkest hour of the early morning in the deepest cellar of the palace sat several men garbed in silken black hooded cloaks round a large mahogany table.
Carved into the table with silver gilt was the ever watchful eye of the Illuminati. Dreadfully dark was that cellar, lit only by the light of flickering candles which cast ghastly shadows appropriate for the company against the walls.
The voice speaking now was rich and melodic. It emanated from a man whose visage would cause some to label a madman and others a messiah. He had pitch black eyes, and was bald with no real chin. He looked heavyset, but just enough as to not be called obese. It was those eyes, though, which had engendered a hideous conspiracy by seducing the vanity of nobles to his machinations.
He was Cagliostro, Vizier to a few rich peers and the Grand Master of the Illuminati. His compatriot, the hypnotist Mesmer, stood behind him at his right.
“Now comes the time where we may capture the wealth of the Catholic Church in full, and lay it low. The moment is right to unleash our assault upon the Bourbons, and to give the power to our Duc de Chartres. So will the new order begin.” His eyes scanned the room, resting on the Duc de Chartres.
Le Duc de Chartres put out a cigarette.
“I still can’t believe our fortune. That bitch running straight into two of my retainers!” said Dominic. “We now have a pretext to litigate the king, and ignite the bonfire we have built so well.”
Cagliostro grinned. “Fortune, Monseigneur, had nothing to do with it.”
This brought several inquisitive glances from those assembled, but no questions on the matter were raised.
This was the great conspiracy, the Illuminati. This organization, dedicated by means of revolution to govern France via an oligarchy of the richest Gaul’s, was constituted by a few dozen wealthy, ambitious, and ultra-progressive nobles. They had abandoned the Christian faith and were the spiritual disciples of Cagliostro; administered their foul dogma during grotesque rituals led by Mesmer. It was their intention, conceived during the very wake of the Restoration, to cause a revolt in such a manner as to dethrone the deeply Catholic and profoundly conservative Bourbons and replace it with a Orleans regime, one which would embrace no holds barred capitalism and replace the Holy Catholic Church as the state religion with a hideous hodge-podge of New Age spiritualism.
For such were the leaders of the conspiracy which sought revolution: no working class men but a handful of decadent and seditious aristocrats, who wished to attain the glory of command themselves.
“Yet what if Louis manages to stand against our suit in Parlement, even in we gather our supporters to the streets en masse with my cash?” Orleans breathed out. He had nothing but hate for his cousin the king, but with things so close to fruition he wanted to be secure in the knowledge this would actually work.
“I quite expect he’ll manage to do that. Indeed, once the Parlement refuses to drop the suit he will no doubt exile you to the country. But there are three major assurances that will support our plans, and that will take Versailles by surprise.” Cagliostro said, leaning upon the table to better impress himself upon his colleagues.
In that dark and frightening hour began the long harvest of foul seeds and dissention long sown: whole divisions of Gardes Francais had been bought off with astronomical sums, a disciplined corps of revolutionaries trained under the guise of Cagliostro stood poised to invade over the frontiers, and highly placed conspirators awaited only the order to execute their individual nefarious acts.
The meeting was concluded with a mystic chant led by Mesmer which ended in rolling of eyes, speaking in tongues, convulsing of bodies and an oath among all that victory would only be achieved with the blood of the Dauphin in their polished goblets for that last, dreadful toast.
A toast that would forever seal the notion of divine right monarchy and initiate the doom the Illuminati had in store for the Holy Catholic Church.
Cagliostro, Vizier of the Illuminati (http://www.rinodistefano.com/images/Cagliostro.jpg )
Far from that pit of evil Mlle. du Barry wept at the foot of the Lily Throne, begging for His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste’s pardon.
It was evening at Versailles, just around five o’clock, and the soft light of the setting sun lit the Grand Apartments du Roi. In His Most Christian Majesty’s study, a gilded and rambling affair of some 6000 square feet, Antoinette-Elise pled her case to Louis-Auguste as he comforted her petite and sobbing form. He held her shoulders and let her head rest on his lap.
To Louis-Auguste Mlle du Barry was a first class friend and even closer confidant. In the rumor laden Court, where royal sons rarely ever saw their mothers, this pretty creature always took time out from her time with Louis’ father to spend time with his neglected son the Dauphin. The King loved her as an older sister, despite the scurrilous gossip that had the relationship occurring on a more sordid level.
Also in the labyrinthine study (more like a metropolitan museum or library) stood M. de Maurepas, Her Serene Highness Queen Jillesepone, and Princes of the Blood les Comtes d’Artois and d’Provence.
“You are forgiven, mon cher, there there now,” said the kind King with compassionate softness “wipe those tears away. You can hardly be blamed for something so trivial as a collision of motor cars. Go now, and join my wife and I for supper in the Grand Trianon. I will send a carriage for you later.”
Mademoiselle du Barry gathered herself up and with all her elegance and beauty gave the King a warm, wet kiss on his powdered cheek. Putting on a forced smile she cantered from the room. M. de Maurepas slyly watched those fine legs depart with a light in his eyes. Once, long ago, he had introduced that Venus to Louis XX, ever since then his heart, like so many gentlemen of the Court, was hers.
Maurepas turned then to the King as the door clicked shut.
“Sire,” le Comte said assuming a tone of gravity “with all respect, Your August Majesty may have forgiven her, but I do not believe that Your cousin le Duc de Chartres has.” Maurepas then produced a folder, contained inside it was the most pompous and disturbing document to reach Versailles since the Restoration itself.
The manila folder was handed to the Most Christian King, whose face, even under the thick layers of powder, flushed beet red.
Le Parlement de Paris, under the jurisdiction of Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres, was suing Louis-Auguste for damages by means of a public trial, Mlle du Barry being technically a charge of the crown. This cam after M. de Maurepas told Chartres the King would cover all damages, and then some, out of the royal purse!
This was not a simple legal case; it was a direct and palpable challenge to the monarchy itself, indeed a challenge much greater than even the assassination of Louis XX.
Furious at this blatant act of defiance, His Most Christian Majesty scheduled a Lit de Justice on the morrow, and commanded upon pain of death every juror of the Parlement de Paris to attend. Maurepas counseled His Majesty that now, more than any other time, Louis-Auguste must stand firm in the face of such an assault and meet it in person. Accordingly, a Royal Expedition with all the pomp and pageantry entailed was prepared for the following morning. This would only be the second official expedition of Louis-Auguste to Paris (unofficial visits made incognito were much more common) since his ascension.
The Queen, Jillesepone of Estenlands, advised His Majesty to simply close the Parlement by force from a distance. Would that her advice had been taken!
The hand of Fate for the ignorant and the hand of the Illuminati to those few who knew played another hand that evening before the Royal Party was expected to arrive. A tape which had been in the possession of le Duc de Chartres, obtained due to the villainous royal’s network of spies and conspirators, flooded the streets of Paris in prolific quantity and vile content.
It was perhaps the only surviving tape of the event which had not been confiscated and later destroyed in the Bastille.
In those tapes was contained an evening of His Highness, Prince of the Blood, le Duc de Aquitaine, in full color and sound. It was shot at the Prince’s pleasure resort of Bagatelle House, a dwelling given to Aquitaine by Louis-Auguste for his birthday shortly after the ascension in Fontainebleau Palace; a short drive south of Paris.
On the tape, with all visual aides, was in crystal clear clarity a ménage-a-trios between le Duc, his mistress Mlle Kelly, and his best friend le Marquis de Vauderuil. Mlle Kelly was a Quinntonnian actress who fell in love with le Duc, a dazzling brunette whose greatest feature was her enormous bust. Le Marquis was perpetually tan and artificially blonde, the star player on the football team in which le Duc was captain.
The camera focused in on the decadent ‘actors’ smoking opium from an ornate golden pipe, followed by shots of brandy and marijuana cigars. Soon, however, it devolved into sexual acts of the most perverted nature, sufficing it to say that each of the ‘actors’ thoroughly enjoyed each others company. Between gasps and giggles and frolicking they would laugh uproariously at the peasant labor gangs, les levees, toiling in the garden dressed as various grotesque’s and taken from their work (without pay) to amuse the jaded trio. For example: obese fishwives forced to dress as sows, small thin children as fleas and honey bees, and old men as owls in ragged feathers just to name a few.
The truth of the matter was this was a singular incident, all revelers being much chastised by the King afterwards, indeed the event had taken place under the previous reign of Louis XX. Versailles had thought all the tapes destroyed, alas they were wrong.
The Pleasure House of Bagatelle (http://www.phan-ngoc.com/fred/paris/img/bagatelle2.jpg )
Within hours well paid agents provocateurs of the Duc de Chartres, marching from the Palais-Royale where the police were forbidden to enter, by reasons of decency in respect to the Royal Family, marched through the streets of Paris distributing copies of the recording…along with political pamphlets with ludicrous statements about the Bourbon regime.
However ludicrous and vulgar the pamphlets were yet more still were they persuasive. Certain numbers were shown which purported to be the accounts of the Royal Family, and their favorites. The numbers were accordingly astronomical. Two hundred thousand Louis d’or here (the equivalent of two billion USD) and four hundred thousand there. Diamonds for the ladies in waiting, speedboats for the Messieurs de la Cour. Vile cartoons were also included, showing a stupid King and barbarous Queen stuffing themselves with food and drink while a corrupt Court soaked up the lands finances and lorded their privileges over a frustrated under-class. Most damaging of all were those that bore the hated tricolor, and called for a return to the Republic. A common theme was a General Republic under the protection of a beneficent Duc de Chartres. One read : “Citizens of the true France! Will you allow such as Aquitaine to be your master?”
All alike made clear the only hope of the French people, their only chance to avoid the machinations of the Royal Family (untrue though they were) was to turn to the Parlement de Paris and its master.
Such statements were treasonous, and punishable by death.
The authorities realized by midnight that something was amiss and that discontent was making itself manifest. Monsieur de la Noir, Provost of Paris, sent out patrols to ascertain the situation. Groups of people assembled in all quarters of the city, having loud discussions and arguments. Reports began to file in that were terrifying: rebel activities now suspected. Soon the police got hold of some of the pamphlets. Versailles was called presently.
M. de Maurepas, not wishing to trouble the King and suspecting the whole matter to be a ploy of the Duc de Chartres to hold off the Lit de Justice (little did he know how right he was!) he let the matter rest, making a note to remind His Majesty of the report ere the Royal Expedition to Paris.
All night long discontent brewed in Paris, and Lyons and Lilles and Marseilles. The countryside, most especially the provinces of Normandie, Brittany, Artois, Poitou and Anjou would always be steadfastly conservative, Catholic, and royalist; a fact the conspirators knew well. It was no mistake that the efforts were focused on the urban middle class, well known as the only group that truly suffered since the Restoration vis-à-vis restrictions on their employment and careers. Paris and Marseilles were the chief victims of the effort.
But the conspirators brew was slowly cooked, its turmoil bubbled and steamed. Paris simmered, but only under the surface. Yet all who dwelt within the City of Lights knew, on that night the 1st of July, the peace of the Restoration had been broken and menace now infiltrated the Kingdom.
When the King was preparing to set out the next morning from Versailles le Comte de Maurepas told him of the discontent. Begrudgingly the royal advisor also spoke of the video’s release, and of imminent chaos. The King brushed the report brusquely aside.
“I am the master of France, Maurepas,” said the Most Christian King grandly “rumors of discontent bother the lion very little, when he goes out to order his flock of sheep!”
Maurepas bowed as the King entered the carriage majestical, made of gold and silver, drawn by twenty white chargers.
“Sire,” said the advisor humbly “I know your valor will secure the situation. They will be so awed by your presence the matter will end then and their.” He followed the King inside.
His Majesty's State Carriage (http://www.exploitz.com/images/pprints/Charles-X-carriage.jpg)
With the crack of whips the cavalcade got underway. The entire highway from Versailles to Paris was closed and cleared, all the way up to the Halls of Justice, headquarters of the Parlement de Paris. It made an incredible sight, one for the ages. State Television (which maintained that the situation was fine, crowds were not forming, and the Invincible Christian King was well in control of events as normal) got beautiful film of the convoy departing splendid Versailles. Fifteen carriages of the Royal Family, including the ultra-opulent carriage of the King, were towed by hundreds of stallions, all white. Adorned and glittering in the sun they stormed down the courtyard of Versailles into their journey. Two full regiments of Royal Army soldiers belonging to the beyond elite corps of the Household Troops thundered alongside in formation, mounted as well, a total of some 3,600 men. They were the 2nd Swiss Regiment and the 14th Korean Regiment, attached to the Second Royal Army Korean Division. Already at the Halls of Justice the Basque Brigade, like the former crack mercenary troops dressed in dazzling uniforms, 1000 strong kept a growing but silently sullen crowd at bay with mahogany .306 rifles and lethally sharp bayonets. As always, about the King Sacred Body and traveling on horse behind the Carriages were his Garde Suisse; arguably the finest soldiers on earth and dressed in red, blue, and silver uniforms with concealed Kevlar vests and conspicuous Kevlar plated tricorner helmets.
Le Garde Suisse du Roi (http://www.catholicteachings.org/images/Swiss%20guard.jpg )
Ere two hours the cavalcade escorting the shining carriages reached the Halls of Justice. The swelling crowd was hushed by the thunder of hooves and the glory of the convoy entranced them. For a few good moments even those bribed, and bribed very well, to cause havoc and spread violence at the appointed signals doubted their plans as they gazed upon the Divine Monarch’s carriage as it pulled up the great doors of France’s legal core. The Garde Suisse dismounted like clockwork while the other two regiments formed up in lines before the palatial wide steps of the Halls under their numerous and fine regimental flags and banners.
A military band, more like an orchestra in superbly martial attire, struck the Royal Salute and the flags were dipped; the Garde Suisse presented arms. At that time the kettle drums shook the very streets of Paris as trumpets propounded the metropolis with transcendent cadences.
Like the sun rising in the morning His Most Christian Majesty exited his carriage. Louis-Auguste was dressed in a cloth of gold suit, studded with sapphires and diamonds. He wore a white-plumed tricorner hat fixed with the Regent Diamond. Draped across his chest was the cordon bleu of the Ordu du Saint-Louis, his shoes were buckled with platinum bands and diamond knots. At his side was a sword; in his hand was Charlemagne’s scepter of justices. He seemed to be alive with light, and his sovereign stride was awesome to behold. Power was in his hands, wisdom in his fierce black eyes; altogether he was magnificent to see.
Flanking him in cloth of silver suits yet still with both cordon bleu and white plumed tricorner hats were his eldest brothers les Comtes d’Artois and d’Provence, Lieutenant General of the Armies and First Lord of the Admiralty respectively and le Duc de Normandie, Marshal of the Constabulary. Swords were at their sides too, and messieurs glared fiercely as they followed the King’s Sacred Body down the damask carpet.
As the King and Princes of the Blood, seemingly comets or some other celestial objects, moved down the carpet surrounded by Garde Suisse both escorting and filing into the different entrances of the tiered hall. The seditious jurors refused to bow as etiquette required, whispering about the Louis’ pomposity and snickering about the Aquitaine, before the Royal Party arrived at the tapestried fore of the Hall, whereupon the Most Christian King sat upon a bed of blue velvet cushions laid upon a wide throne of polished teak decorated by gold and silver gilt. The throne sat under a canopy of blue silk, highlighted with little gold fleur-de-lys. A trumpeter gave a volley, and a gorgeously dressed herald in the King’s livery stepped forward.
“Oyez! Oyez! Attend all! His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste comes to demand registration of his laws, and to order this body out of its intransigent and petty operations!
So commenced the ill-fated Lit de Justice at the Parlement de Paris.
No sooner had the herald finished his proclamation than the Secretary of the Parlement, Monsieur Poisson, stepped forward to the lectern opposite and under the throne. Poisson was a devotee of Chartres, and more than that one of those infinitesimally rare curiosities in Restoration France: an acknowledged republican who kept his post after the governmental changes…moreover, a republican who was popular with the bourgeoisie of Paris. Ironically he was not aware of the conspiracy per se, his only task as allotted by the secret master of this whole affair Cagliostro was to be a ‘people’s martyr’…a vocation he was soon to answer. He hated the King because he was an egalitarian. Likewise, he hated the Church because he was an atheist. This is the man who raised the challenge soon to ignite the conspiracy’s full plot.
“Louis-Auguste of France! You are charged with misappropriation of the general fund, and of making use of that misappropriation to shield Mlle du Barry from the legal right of this legal body to arrest her. How do yo…mmphh!” he never had a chance to finish.
At the slightest nod from the King who (unfortunately like Cagliostro) anticipated this outburst four large Switzers, led by barrel-chested Sergeant Blazer, fell upon the orator in a flash. A strong hand clapped over his mouth, in a few seconds he was gagged with rope and shackled. The muscular quartet dragged the fellow to a corner of the hall, still in plain view, and ripped off his shirt very roughly before securing his hands spread eagle against the wall.
The jurors were now very silent, the whispers at the King’s entrance had ceased. The Parlement did not expect the King to come in so forceful a mood, being prepped by Chartres otherwise. Chartres, however, sat back in his seat comfortably, a mask of indifference upon his face.
It stayed indifferent even, after a second miniscule nod from the King, Sergeant Blazer took out a leather whip and with a loud pop gave Poisson his first lash.
As the rebellious republican was lashed before the eyes of his fellows, Ludovicus-Augustus spoke:
“This body, which had been my father’s pleasure to reconstitute, now with its foolish actions and wanton abuse of France’s law threatens the very security of my kingdom” proclaimed Louis, reclining into his massive throne. He rested the hand of justice on his chest as he stared down the jurors.
As he spoke the crack of the whip and subsequent cries of Poisson it caused were too audible, yet the monarch went right on.
“That you, the servants of my administration, would ever dare to summon me! That you would ever dare to impugn my authority with law suits made upon a vassal of mine (he spoke, of course, of Mlle du Barry)! For shame! Knaves and blackguards is what this body is! I have had enough, enough I say!” as he raised his voice just slightly, he flicked his hand a tad, and the heavy beating of the arrogant Secretary ended. Poisson fell to the floor: bloody, unconscious, but still alive. The King then smiled, the smile of absolute power, and made his demands.
“You will now, at my express command, vote yourselves out of existence. Yes, you will vote, and you all had better like it; it will be the last vote you shall ever cast!” the King smirked, and the elite lawyers and jurors of le Parlement de Paris were utterly shocked. Even the foul Duc de Chartres, who had assurances from Cagliostro himself about the events which would surely occur, was taken aback at this unexpected move.
Alas for His Majesty no solution would suffice for the riddle before him now weaved. The crowds outside were well aware of what was going on. Due to the rabble rousers and agents provocateurs among them they hated rather than cheered another victory of the King’s. The pamphlets stated that if the Parlements fell the people would soon be utterly controlled by the absolute monarchy. The video so ingeniously leaked by the conspirators decided their opinion, along with cash bribes given to those who would wave signs and holler. In the conservative countryside the country remained behind the King, however. They knew their lot would improve once the lawyers were done away with. Louis-Auguste and his father before him had given France her life again, brought the Catholic Church back and improved the economy for the benefit of all. No matter what a person’s lot in life was, that lot was something to take pride in. People took pride in being part of the great French family, which prayed and acknowledged the authority of its patriarch the King.
Yet the Paris mobs, always so fickle, were not remote Strasbourg or Rouen…they were enflamed. It was not even a huge mob, only about 50,000. But it was growing as people got sucked into its vortex. The backbone was formed of middle class professionals, students (of course), intellectuals, and closet republicans and socialists who followed the order but loved neither the Holy Catholic Church nor the Crown. The newcomers, however, were just joining of the bandwagon so to speak. Taken together this was a formula for rebellion.
The noise began to slowly rise in the square before the Halls just as inside they were silent. Louis-Auguste’s resonant voice, as clear and beautiful as his father’s, filled the Hall:
“Once you have voted yourselves to oblivion, you will go into exile in the city of Ancenis (a known royalist fortress town). There you will work the land and pray for absolution of your wicked sins of demagoguery and treason. One day, perhaps, when you have learned the love of Christ and of my Crown you may return.” Thus concluded His Most Christian Majesty crossed the royal legs comfortably and produced a cigarette. Le Comte d’Artois stepped forward and lit it for his brother. Louis-Auguste took a drag and scanned the audience coolly.
The best lawyers in France stood openmouthed and silent. The sound of a pin dropping could be heard. There was no movement save the sound of le Duc de Chartres taking a pinch of snuff.
The King grinned and generously waved his scepter of justice at them.
“Gentlemen, you may begin!”
A majority seemed certain, but the discussion never reached that stage. Murmurs arose, and in the hubbub Chartres stood up and declared the vote illegal. His Majesty looked his cousin square in the eyes and took a long drag of his cigarette.
“Certainly it is legal. It is legal because it is my wish” Louis stared sharply as he forcefully spoke. Such was the power of his presence in that hour that when Chartres made to speak the King but raised his hand causing Dominic sat down aghast.
There was then a queer silence for several minutes, while the King smoked his cigarette and the Princes of the Blood stood by him fiercer than any bodyguards. After five minutes, Louis checked his watched and smiled again. He nodded to the herald and said “Monsieur Espremenil, would you register the vote?”
The herald nodded and bowed gracefully. His voice boomed throughout the Hall:
“The vote is registered as 300 in favor, none opposed.”
Murmurs broke out again, but a second time Louis raised his hand, and a second time they were silent. The Garde Suisse began to guide the jurors out of their seat and to waiting armored buses in the rear of the Halls of Justice.
“Go now, and return to me when you are better” declared the King. They filed out a defeated body. Louis then pointed to Chartres.
“You, cousin, are going too” said Louis with a smile. And so the Switzers fell on Chartres as well, in his case dragging him kicking and screaming from the Hall. Cagliostro had not expected this, damn it, though le Duc de Chartres. Nevertheless, Cagliostro was a genius if there ever was, and the King’s cousin a vital piece in the puzzle of revolution the Illuminati were creating.
When His Majesty left the Halls of Justice towards his carriage the rebellion began. The most surprised at the furor of the crowd was the King himself. In his mind Louis could not comprehend the devices that had manipulated and now inspired this mob. Maurepas was terrified looking out into the sea of people. How a crowd could be this volatile over such an issue was beyond even the crafty advisor. But swiftly did le Comte understand the danger the hollers began.
When the crowd saw the King exit the Halls a roar went up, a roar so loud that those about him saw Ludovicus-Augustus flinch. The mob was prepped and angry, incited by lies, half-truths, and cold hard cash. Screaming and frothing, as opposed to the heretofore royal welcome of “Vive le Roi!” and cheers the mob launched themselves towards the steps of the Halls.
Most historians cite this as the moment when the Revolution per se began.
The Basque Brigade troopers were shocked at the power and momentum of the Parisians, who like wicked lightning smashed into them. In a few seconds the Basque’s line was in tatters, and the crowd was in sight of a shocked King. The soldiers, those who were not bowled over, began to beat the mass back with their rifles and bayonets…but it was like a garden hose attempting to allay a brush fire.
Yet Louis-Auguste, feeling the vitae of Louis XIV rise within him, took charge once again of his realm. He turned to Lieutenant General de Bombelles and in a voice of imperious command barked:
“Monsieur Bombelles, sound the cavalry to draw sabers.” No sooner had he spoken than the trumpet rang out, and the mounted Suisse and Koreans drew glittering swords.
“Full charge!” said the King, bright eyed and surrounded by his splendidly attired Garde Suisse.
The Illuminati had hoped to apprehend the King at this moment and to have him held at the mercy of the mob led by their agents provocateurs. The Royal Cavalry, however, had different notions. In a few clicks of the watch the Basque Brigade had been rescued from their predicament. After that, the Cavalry ruthlessly charged the mob, and the blood of protestors drenched the Place Henri IV.
Using this small moment of reprieve, the Royal Party, along with their cavalry, returned to Versailles as chaos consumed the moaning mob. The Basque Brigade went to reinforce the Bastille, which was vital in order to maintain control of Paris.
Once His Most Christian Majesty returned to Versailles the full extent of the revolt filtered in.
Six full divisions of Gardes Francais, stationed in Marseilles and the Languedoc, flew the red flag of revolt. The officers were killed in secret the previous night, and the armies swore their allegiance to Chartres. A group calling itself the United Front, made of exiled French now returning under the machinations of Cagliostro, joined the rebellious Garde Francais Divisions and declared themselves the legitimate government of France. There were thousands of them, all trained for their great endeavor. The sailors in Cherbourg harbor wavered, and the Admiralty called in the Flanders Regiment of the Royal Army to prevent the enlisted men from taking the Royal Navy by force.
The train carrying the Parlementarians and le Duc de Chartres to Ancenis was hijacked and its treasonous cargo rescued. In Paris the agents of Cagliostro called for the formation of a People’s Army. The Halls of Justice were stormed, and declared the headquarters of the Militia. Poisson was found alive, and instead of becoming a martyr he was made a hero by the mob. Churches were looted and ransacked: at All Saints Church in a working class Parisian neighborhood the prelate was hung from his altar and the treasury looted ‘for the people.’ The hand of Cagliostro, that was.
The remaining Garde Francais Divisions, at the advice of Maurepas, were ordered to remain at their posts. To move them would at this point, le Comte believed, incite them to join the ghastly revolt as well.
The Revolution was under way, and aristocrats by the thousand fled to Versailles by plain, train, and automobile to beg protection of His Most Christian King. Louis-Auguste called the Royal Army together, and commanded them to proceed with all haste to Versailles. The Royal Army being an elite body with an excellent transportation service about ¾ of the Royal Army, some 200,000 troops, arrived by nightfall at the vast palace complex. The 2nd Turkish Division, Heavy Infantry, blocked the road from Paris to the Sun’s House…there would be no repeats of the First Revolution.
All the pieces were set and moving. As the Royal Army set up camp around Versailles, the Bodyguard marched for the King in formation, saluting with cries of “Vive le Roi et la Reine!” and “Vivat Rex in Aeternum!”. The Royal Army, that elite mercenary corps loyal only to the King, would make a good fight of it before the Revolution had its way.
Parade of the King's Household Troops---Royal Czech Regiment (http://www.usma.edu/PublicAffairs/PV/French%20march%20past%20(close).jpg)
Parade of the King's Household Troops---3rd Regiment Royal Swiss (http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38135000/jpg/_38135709_foreignlegion300.jpg )
In the darkness of his coven, Cagliostro knew victory was far from assured.
In the countryside, loyal subjects flocked to protect their parish Church and the local manor house. They flew the fleur-de-lys, and swore allegiance to Christ and Crown. In the cities, workers raised the red flag and gathered into militia. Yet as of now the Bastille, millions of times stronger and more heavily armed than the original, still stood with a strong garrison in the center of Paris. The monarchy stood upon the edge of a knife.
And in le Grand Chateau of Versailles, the whole Royal Family gathered together with their Bodyguard and hundreds of aristocratic families…admitted also were loyal subjects of every class, who went to their knees alongside royal and noble alike. They knelt together, holding hands. As one they lifted their voice to God, and led by the righteous baritone voice of the Grand Almoner of France Cardinal Prince de Rohan called down hellfire and brimstone on the rebels and impeached Christ to descend and defend his lieutenant upon earth.
Never was heard a more fervent prayer.
The Revolution started, as political events always do, with the howls of lawyers and that particular brand of usurpation unique to the legal system.
That, and, of course, the well executed plans and operations of a conspiratorial cabal…as shall soon be seen.
Twenty years after the Second Restoration of Their Most Christian Kings France seemed to again function under the auspices of the Ancien Regime.
His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste sat upon the Lily Throne in Versailles, a popular figure seen as a more dutiful if somewhat more boorish version of his august father. The Queen Consort was Her Serene Highness Jillesepone, whose popularity had been much increased due to her giving birth to a Dauphin Louis-Ferdinand-Charles-Wingert de Bourbon et Parma et de Estenlands, now four years old. Her fecundity and esteem was sealed with the additional births of le Duc de Berry Louis-Charles-Francis, Louis-Auguste’s second son, now three, and Madame Royale Charlotte-Therese, the charming royal daughter of seven months. Although greeted by the introverted Court as an ‘Easterner’, her child-bearing brought with Madame Jillesepone’s acceptance as a true Frenchwomen, moreover a true Queen. Quite recently, this behind the scenes iron handed princess soon found her way onto the King’s Coseil d’Etat itself. She was not a giddy Queen, and her gravity and poise marked her as sovereign in the midst of the Court no less than King Louis.
His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste (http://www.visitvoltaire.com/images/louis_16_26k.jpg)
Her Serence Highness Queen Jillesepone (http://www.khm.at/data/page1747/Maria_Theresia250.jpg)
France’s Royal Family indeed thrived; the Queen Dowager Marie-Therese still resided in Versailles and His Majesty Louis-Auguste was aided in ruling by his four brothers (each with growing sub-royal families themselves), the Princes of the Blood. All sat upon the Conseil d’Etat, and collectively to the people of France they were known as Messieurs. From oldest to youngest they were: le Comte d’Artois, 29, le Comte d’Provence 27, le Duc de Normandie, 25, and le Duc de Aquitaine, 24. Artois was Lieutenant General of the Armies, Provence the First Lord of the Admiralty, Normandie was given the Municipal Constabulary and Aquitaine (hailed as the most ravishingly handsome of the Bourbon brood) was captain of his own football team and acknowledged as the most proliferate gigolo in France’s colorful Ars Amore. Despite Aquitaine’s qualities, or maybe because of them, the youngest Prince was the favorite brother of the King, who without complaint paid his ruinous bills and sent the paparazzi who knew too much of the young lover to the Bastille (the young Prince having indiscriminately made more than a few videos of his evenings, with more than a few partners…of both sexes).
Her Higheness Queen Dowager Marie-Therese (http://www.wallacecollection.org/c/w_a/p_w_d/f/jpg/p437.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Comte d'Artois (http://www.bibliopsy.com/Revolution/images/0225.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Comte d'Provence (http://www.diagnopsy.com/Revolution/images/0017.jpg )
His Royal Highness le Duc de Normandie (http://www.madamedepompadour.com/_m_antonietta_fersen/images/fersen/fers_img/fers_fam/fers_fam3.jpg)
His Royal Highness le Duc de Aquitaine (http://www.madamedepompadour.com/_m_antonietta_fersen/images/fersen/fers_img/fers_fam/fers_fam2.jpg )
Le Conseil de Ministre’s was the single greatest royal bastion in France, its members entrusted with the day to day governing of the Kingdom’s various departments and bureaucracies. His Most Christian Majesty Louis XX’s Chief Minister had been le Cardinal de Terray, and a fine job he had done. Yet upon Louis-Auguste’s unlikely ascension to the Throne in the wake of his father’s murder, the young King did not wish to have a Chief Minister at all, wishing to rule absolutely as his ancestor Louis XIV did and after that his father eventually as well. So it came to pass that he summoned to his side perhaps the keenest political mind in France: Monsieur le Comte de Maurepas. This brilliant royalist and devotee of le Cardinal de Richelieu had tutored the King, then Dauphin, in his youth. So, upon his ascension, Louis-Auguste dismissed Terray to his estates (having found him a libertine with a penchant for domineering) and brought in his dear mentor to the highest apartments of Versailles. A charming story is told of their first meeting together in each their new offices.
Maurepas shut himself in with the King, only two days after Louis XX’s death, and they had a long conversation. Louis-Auguste began by thanking him; then Maurepas spoke.
“Cardinal de Terray was accused of having prolonged your father’s childhood in order to be master for a greater length of time” he said. “I do not want to deserve such a reproach, and if you see fit, I shall be nothing, as far as the public is concerned. I shall be here for you alone: let your ministers’ work with you. I shall never speak to them in your name and I shall not undertake to speak to you for them. Only do not make up your mind upon matters that are outside the ordinary daily run; let us have one or two conferences a week, and if you have acted too hastily, I will tell you. In a word, I will be your man, yours alone, and nothing beyond that. If you choose to be your own Prime Minister, as your August Father decided at length to do, you can, by dint of hard work; and I offer you the help of my experience: but never loose sight of the fact that if you do not wish to do so, or if you feel unable to do so, then you must necessarily choose one.”
“You have grasped my meaning exactly,” said the King. “That is precisely what I hoped for from you.”
From that day onwards Maurepas was ever at the King side, advising him how to maintain the absolutist regime of things. Other than that remarkable man, who was appointed “President of the Conseil d’Etat” (a official post with no real power, save the vital direct access to the King’s sacred body that le Comte required), His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste maintained the charges of his father. Monsieur le Marquis de Miromesnil, a fabulously rich debauchee yet steadfastly loyal royalist, was maintained as Keeper of the Seals. Le Duc de Liancourt remained Ministre de la Maison du Roi, Minister of the King’s Household, a key post. Le Baron de Besenval, a favorite of Queen-Dowager Marie-Therese who combined martiality with wit and was a doughty Switzer to boot, stayed at his post of Commander of the Bodyguard. Charles-Gravier le Comte de Vergennes, perhaps the most brilliant and conservative statesmen in Europe since Metternich, kept his charge as Minister of State. M. de Saint-Germain, a harsh man of Prussian ancestry stayed Minister of War, and Monsieur de Sartine kept the Naval Ministry. Goodman Hugh Enot, the enormously popular and protestant Comptroller General guarded the realms finances, and Francois-Aldonse le Marquis de Calonne kept the Ministry of Commerce.
M. de Maurepas (http://www.mauritia.de/de/rokoko/calonne.jpg)
M. de Besenval (http://www.mrhorse.com/artgal/pictures/Besenval.jpg)
The Estates General dissimulated the wishes of the absolute monarch.
The First Estate, the Catholic Church, enjoyed perhaps the greatest success following the Restoration. The Holy Catholic Church owned about 1/10 of all land in France, using it to both provide income for themselves and for the realm with ultra-generous tax benefices. Their Majesties Louis XX and Louis-Auguste were devout individuals, and the Church ever had the closet position to the Lily Throne. France was a Catholic country in fact as well as name, though Protestantism was tolerated by decree.
The Second Estate, the Nobility, acted as the glue which held the monarchy together. Taken together, from the highest Duc to the lowest Baronne, they formed everything from the officer corps of the Royal Army to the captains of industry to the simple managers of country farms and government bureaucracy any state must have to survive. Some nobles served as the highest crust of the aristocracy, spending their days in the salons of Versailles and basking in the presence of the King himself. Others had nothing but their tri-corner hat and petite sword to indicate their status, yet were nevertheless held as the virtual law in towns and villages across France.
And the Third Estate: this body constituted everybody else who was not in the Clergy or Nobility. The members of this assembly, the size of the first two Estates combined, ran the gambit from factory owners, professionals such as doctors and lawyers, to the middle class bourgeoisie that kept the society funded. Of utmost interest to all was the fact the Third Estate received a huge influx of ambitious attorneys into its ranks, well connected to boot.
Within France the states commerce, although functioning within the parameters of a modern market with all the technology and gadgetry thus entailed, was run under the intricate Guild System managed under Mercantilist principles. Serfs were just as liable, if not more so, to find an automobile concern as their master as some rural fief’s manor lord. The Louis D’or proved a stable currency, together with the previous financial elements combining to provide a sound economy: one in which inflation had been halted, and in which the lands GDP continued to rise steadily.
In foreign adventures the Restoration Government had acquitted itself admirably. Algeria was run by the King’s Bourbon step-brother, Louis I, and was a colony of lucrative qualities. New Caledonia and New Provence (French Guiana) provided the two other large French satellites, both bustling hubs of Gallic power in their own respective regions. The Holy League, that brain-child of Louis XX, assured orthodox religion and feudal dominance in Europe.
The Royal Army, those elite corps which swore loyalty to the King alone, were well paid and content. The regular armed forces relaxed and enjoyed the fruits of peacetime, limiting themselves to various but lenient exercises.
But how so, if the realm was so strong and content, a Revolution?
A series of damned unfortunate events: a traffic collision, the breakdown of the legal system vis-à-vis contemptibly corrupt and arrogant lawyers coinciding with and completed by the execution of a brilliant conspiracy.
In France during the Restoration the enforcement of the law was assigned to various Parlements, one for each of the provinces, and the most influential de facto being the Parlement de Paris. It was this body, singularly, which still mounted opposition to His Most Christian Majesties Government. When the Parlements were first assembled twenty years ago at the dawn of the Restoration, their members were solid royalists who owed direct debts to the King. They all, unfortunately, shared one common fault: age. Almost all of them were over 70 years of age upon appointment. Soon, they all began to pass on after truly valiant and conservative legislations, and there to fill the void was a rich, ambitious, young, and idealistic legal corpi who mastered the Sorbonne itself in Paris. A number of attorneys had been appointed to the Parlement de Paris, the organ of the Third Estate and a hotbed of the only remaining bastion of the French left, a wealthy and growingly militant left to be sure.
These positions and those to staff them were demanded by the most vocal, vain, most progressive and most dangerous voice of the nobility: Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres, Dominic-Etienne, who was cousin to Louis-Auguste himself and twas whispered the richest man in the extended Bourbon network outside the Royal Family proper. He, who was descended from the line of the cursed d’Orleans, soon was accepted back into Court as a pledge of his father, le Comte de Angouleme. Le Comte, Henri-Phillipe, had atoned for his ancestors’ evil ways in the eyes of Louis XX, and was given the Palais-Royale in Paris and invited to resume his position at Court. Angouleme was one of those first appointed lawyers, who died in droves to the horror of the keen eyes of those who served the crown. Amid harsh critique of his libertine son and bemoaning the terror of lawyers to come, Henri-Philippe expired by ravaging strokes two days after Louis XX’s assassination, most said of a broken heart.
The King was busy with matters of Empire, and indeed both Their Christian Majesties Louis XX and Louis-Auguste were astoundingly successful in this regard. Once the international crisis’ that marked the early Restoration and abated and France had Algeria and booty besides, the Throne turned to domestic matters, though it never entirely shunned them at any time rather than entrusting them to various Ministres d’Etat…alas that Chartres was one such Ministre to the Parlement de Paris! During the early period, the crown was forced to concede the appointments to preserve internal tranquility and the appearance of a united land at war, the aforementioned clique of lawyers were allowed to become Jurors of the Parliament de Paris. Slowly but surely, this cadre of spoiled aristocrats turned demagogues---for such they were having no working class connections at all, asserted itself via the Parliament de Paris as having authority to formulate and administer law. Taken in small amounts His Most Christian Majesty was able to pit the Jurors against each other with threats and cajoling; when in large doses though the Parlement became vehement and toxic, to which the only cure was a [/I]Lit de Justice[/I] (literally a bed of justice because the King sat on cushions under and canopy of gold while he forced the dissenting entity to register the Crown’s Will) was a heavy handed response.
Led by their patron the Duc de Chartres, whom they felt shielded them from the full extent of the Kings sword, they seized upon the opportunity of a damned unlucky and wholly ghastly traffic accident, the twain ills being the aggressor and victims.
It all began on a sunny southern road in Lower Gascony, King’s Highway 31 to be precise and approximately fifteen miles north of delightful Bayonne; a popular resort town amongst the jet-set crowd.
A cherry red Ferrari screamed along the coastal thoroughfare, affording beautiful vista’s as the engine roared with gears being slammed ever higher. Everyone in France knew who drove it, it was a model especially ordered from the factory in Rome with beyond par engine and seal skin interior, its body decorated with links of pretty white roses made of pearl: Mademoiselle Antoinette-Elise du Barry, a ravishing blonde beauty who was none other than the primary mistress of His Deceased Majesty, Louis XX. Wearing all white in her white leather chair and her long thick wheaten hair waving around atop bronze legs that went forever and a bust that obscured them from her view she was both beautiful and oblivious…in her right hand she smoked a rather large marijuana cigarette, giggling as one of her girlfriends chatted with her on the speaker phone.
She was easily at 140 M.P.H. now but perhaps the finest sports car ever made took it all in stride, thrumming along with the purr of a pride of lions.
It took less than two seconds for her to completely destroy the little Renault economy car the Ferrari broadsided, glass and steel screamed as the accident sent shards of both high into the air.
When the dust settled the beauty whose curves had enslaved a king stumbled from her car with one of her dainty white stilettos broken; of course the vehicle was designed to withstand any collision, able to even absorb a bit of light arms fire. She surveyed the scene with horror as she glanced at her victims. For, driving the little Renault were two valets, elder men who had the look of being in service. They wore the livery of, of all rotten chances, le Duc de Chartres.
As a result of this accident both valets hovered near death at a local hospital, Antoinette had to get one of her girlfriends to come pick her up, and the seeds for a monumental Revolution quickened to perverted life.
Turn your thoughts now to the Palais-Royale, the opulent dwelling of Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres in the heart of Paris. At the darkest hour of the early morning in the deepest cellar of the palace sat several men garbed in silken black hooded cloaks round a large mahogany table.
Carved into the table with silver gilt was the ever watchful eye of the Illuminati. Dreadfully dark was that cellar, lit only by the light of flickering candles which cast ghastly shadows appropriate for the company against the walls.
The voice speaking now was rich and melodic. It emanated from a man whose visage would cause some to label a madman and others a messiah. He had pitch black eyes, and was bald with no real chin. He looked heavyset, but just enough as to not be called obese. It was those eyes, though, which had engendered a hideous conspiracy by seducing the vanity of nobles to his machinations.
He was Cagliostro, Vizier to a few rich peers and the Grand Master of the Illuminati. His compatriot, the hypnotist Mesmer, stood behind him at his right.
“Now comes the time where we may capture the wealth of the Catholic Church in full, and lay it low. The moment is right to unleash our assault upon the Bourbons, and to give the power to our Duc de Chartres. So will the new order begin.” His eyes scanned the room, resting on the Duc de Chartres.
Le Duc de Chartres put out a cigarette.
“I still can’t believe our fortune. That bitch running straight into two of my retainers!” said Dominic. “We now have a pretext to litigate the king, and ignite the bonfire we have built so well.”
Cagliostro grinned. “Fortune, Monseigneur, had nothing to do with it.”
This brought several inquisitive glances from those assembled, but no questions on the matter were raised.
This was the great conspiracy, the Illuminati. This organization, dedicated by means of revolution to govern France via an oligarchy of the richest Gaul’s, was constituted by a few dozen wealthy, ambitious, and ultra-progressive nobles. They had abandoned the Christian faith and were the spiritual disciples of Cagliostro; administered their foul dogma during grotesque rituals led by Mesmer. It was their intention, conceived during the very wake of the Restoration, to cause a revolt in such a manner as to dethrone the deeply Catholic and profoundly conservative Bourbons and replace it with a Orleans regime, one which would embrace no holds barred capitalism and replace the Holy Catholic Church as the state religion with a hideous hodge-podge of New Age spiritualism.
For such were the leaders of the conspiracy which sought revolution: no working class men but a handful of decadent and seditious aristocrats, who wished to attain the glory of command themselves.
“Yet what if Louis manages to stand against our suit in Parlement, even in we gather our supporters to the streets en masse with my cash?” Orleans breathed out. He had nothing but hate for his cousin the king, but with things so close to fruition he wanted to be secure in the knowledge this would actually work.
“I quite expect he’ll manage to do that. Indeed, once the Parlement refuses to drop the suit he will no doubt exile you to the country. But there are three major assurances that will support our plans, and that will take Versailles by surprise.” Cagliostro said, leaning upon the table to better impress himself upon his colleagues.
In that dark and frightening hour began the long harvest of foul seeds and dissention long sown: whole divisions of Gardes Francais had been bought off with astronomical sums, a disciplined corps of revolutionaries trained under the guise of Cagliostro stood poised to invade over the frontiers, and highly placed conspirators awaited only the order to execute their individual nefarious acts.
The meeting was concluded with a mystic chant led by Mesmer which ended in rolling of eyes, speaking in tongues, convulsing of bodies and an oath among all that victory would only be achieved with the blood of the Dauphin in their polished goblets for that last, dreadful toast.
A toast that would forever seal the notion of divine right monarchy and initiate the doom the Illuminati had in store for the Holy Catholic Church.
Cagliostro, Vizier of the Illuminati (http://www.rinodistefano.com/images/Cagliostro.jpg )
Far from that pit of evil Mlle. du Barry wept at the foot of the Lily Throne, begging for His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste’s pardon.
It was evening at Versailles, just around five o’clock, and the soft light of the setting sun lit the Grand Apartments du Roi. In His Most Christian Majesty’s study, a gilded and rambling affair of some 6000 square feet, Antoinette-Elise pled her case to Louis-Auguste as he comforted her petite and sobbing form. He held her shoulders and let her head rest on his lap.
To Louis-Auguste Mlle du Barry was a first class friend and even closer confidant. In the rumor laden Court, where royal sons rarely ever saw their mothers, this pretty creature always took time out from her time with Louis’ father to spend time with his neglected son the Dauphin. The King loved her as an older sister, despite the scurrilous gossip that had the relationship occurring on a more sordid level.
Also in the labyrinthine study (more like a metropolitan museum or library) stood M. de Maurepas, Her Serene Highness Queen Jillesepone, and Princes of the Blood les Comtes d’Artois and d’Provence.
“You are forgiven, mon cher, there there now,” said the kind King with compassionate softness “wipe those tears away. You can hardly be blamed for something so trivial as a collision of motor cars. Go now, and join my wife and I for supper in the Grand Trianon. I will send a carriage for you later.”
Mademoiselle du Barry gathered herself up and with all her elegance and beauty gave the King a warm, wet kiss on his powdered cheek. Putting on a forced smile she cantered from the room. M. de Maurepas slyly watched those fine legs depart with a light in his eyes. Once, long ago, he had introduced that Venus to Louis XX, ever since then his heart, like so many gentlemen of the Court, was hers.
Maurepas turned then to the King as the door clicked shut.
“Sire,” le Comte said assuming a tone of gravity “with all respect, Your August Majesty may have forgiven her, but I do not believe that Your cousin le Duc de Chartres has.” Maurepas then produced a folder, contained inside it was the most pompous and disturbing document to reach Versailles since the Restoration itself.
The manila folder was handed to the Most Christian King, whose face, even under the thick layers of powder, flushed beet red.
Le Parlement de Paris, under the jurisdiction of Monseigneur le Duc de Chartres, was suing Louis-Auguste for damages by means of a public trial, Mlle du Barry being technically a charge of the crown. This cam after M. de Maurepas told Chartres the King would cover all damages, and then some, out of the royal purse!
This was not a simple legal case; it was a direct and palpable challenge to the monarchy itself, indeed a challenge much greater than even the assassination of Louis XX.
Furious at this blatant act of defiance, His Most Christian Majesty scheduled a Lit de Justice on the morrow, and commanded upon pain of death every juror of the Parlement de Paris to attend. Maurepas counseled His Majesty that now, more than any other time, Louis-Auguste must stand firm in the face of such an assault and meet it in person. Accordingly, a Royal Expedition with all the pomp and pageantry entailed was prepared for the following morning. This would only be the second official expedition of Louis-Auguste to Paris (unofficial visits made incognito were much more common) since his ascension.
The Queen, Jillesepone of Estenlands, advised His Majesty to simply close the Parlement by force from a distance. Would that her advice had been taken!
The hand of Fate for the ignorant and the hand of the Illuminati to those few who knew played another hand that evening before the Royal Party was expected to arrive. A tape which had been in the possession of le Duc de Chartres, obtained due to the villainous royal’s network of spies and conspirators, flooded the streets of Paris in prolific quantity and vile content.
It was perhaps the only surviving tape of the event which had not been confiscated and later destroyed in the Bastille.
In those tapes was contained an evening of His Highness, Prince of the Blood, le Duc de Aquitaine, in full color and sound. It was shot at the Prince’s pleasure resort of Bagatelle House, a dwelling given to Aquitaine by Louis-Auguste for his birthday shortly after the ascension in Fontainebleau Palace; a short drive south of Paris.
On the tape, with all visual aides, was in crystal clear clarity a ménage-a-trios between le Duc, his mistress Mlle Kelly, and his best friend le Marquis de Vauderuil. Mlle Kelly was a Quinntonnian actress who fell in love with le Duc, a dazzling brunette whose greatest feature was her enormous bust. Le Marquis was perpetually tan and artificially blonde, the star player on the football team in which le Duc was captain.
The camera focused in on the decadent ‘actors’ smoking opium from an ornate golden pipe, followed by shots of brandy and marijuana cigars. Soon, however, it devolved into sexual acts of the most perverted nature, sufficing it to say that each of the ‘actors’ thoroughly enjoyed each others company. Between gasps and giggles and frolicking they would laugh uproariously at the peasant labor gangs, les levees, toiling in the garden dressed as various grotesque’s and taken from their work (without pay) to amuse the jaded trio. For example: obese fishwives forced to dress as sows, small thin children as fleas and honey bees, and old men as owls in ragged feathers just to name a few.
The truth of the matter was this was a singular incident, all revelers being much chastised by the King afterwards, indeed the event had taken place under the previous reign of Louis XX. Versailles had thought all the tapes destroyed, alas they were wrong.
The Pleasure House of Bagatelle (http://www.phan-ngoc.com/fred/paris/img/bagatelle2.jpg )
Within hours well paid agents provocateurs of the Duc de Chartres, marching from the Palais-Royale where the police were forbidden to enter, by reasons of decency in respect to the Royal Family, marched through the streets of Paris distributing copies of the recording…along with political pamphlets with ludicrous statements about the Bourbon regime.
However ludicrous and vulgar the pamphlets were yet more still were they persuasive. Certain numbers were shown which purported to be the accounts of the Royal Family, and their favorites. The numbers were accordingly astronomical. Two hundred thousand Louis d’or here (the equivalent of two billion USD) and four hundred thousand there. Diamonds for the ladies in waiting, speedboats for the Messieurs de la Cour. Vile cartoons were also included, showing a stupid King and barbarous Queen stuffing themselves with food and drink while a corrupt Court soaked up the lands finances and lorded their privileges over a frustrated under-class. Most damaging of all were those that bore the hated tricolor, and called for a return to the Republic. A common theme was a General Republic under the protection of a beneficent Duc de Chartres. One read : “Citizens of the true France! Will you allow such as Aquitaine to be your master?”
All alike made clear the only hope of the French people, their only chance to avoid the machinations of the Royal Family (untrue though they were) was to turn to the Parlement de Paris and its master.
Such statements were treasonous, and punishable by death.
The authorities realized by midnight that something was amiss and that discontent was making itself manifest. Monsieur de la Noir, Provost of Paris, sent out patrols to ascertain the situation. Groups of people assembled in all quarters of the city, having loud discussions and arguments. Reports began to file in that were terrifying: rebel activities now suspected. Soon the police got hold of some of the pamphlets. Versailles was called presently.
M. de Maurepas, not wishing to trouble the King and suspecting the whole matter to be a ploy of the Duc de Chartres to hold off the Lit de Justice (little did he know how right he was!) he let the matter rest, making a note to remind His Majesty of the report ere the Royal Expedition to Paris.
All night long discontent brewed in Paris, and Lyons and Lilles and Marseilles. The countryside, most especially the provinces of Normandie, Brittany, Artois, Poitou and Anjou would always be steadfastly conservative, Catholic, and royalist; a fact the conspirators knew well. It was no mistake that the efforts were focused on the urban middle class, well known as the only group that truly suffered since the Restoration vis-à-vis restrictions on their employment and careers. Paris and Marseilles were the chief victims of the effort.
But the conspirators brew was slowly cooked, its turmoil bubbled and steamed. Paris simmered, but only under the surface. Yet all who dwelt within the City of Lights knew, on that night the 1st of July, the peace of the Restoration had been broken and menace now infiltrated the Kingdom.
When the King was preparing to set out the next morning from Versailles le Comte de Maurepas told him of the discontent. Begrudgingly the royal advisor also spoke of the video’s release, and of imminent chaos. The King brushed the report brusquely aside.
“I am the master of France, Maurepas,” said the Most Christian King grandly “rumors of discontent bother the lion very little, when he goes out to order his flock of sheep!”
Maurepas bowed as the King entered the carriage majestical, made of gold and silver, drawn by twenty white chargers.
“Sire,” said the advisor humbly “I know your valor will secure the situation. They will be so awed by your presence the matter will end then and their.” He followed the King inside.
His Majesty's State Carriage (http://www.exploitz.com/images/pprints/Charles-X-carriage.jpg)
With the crack of whips the cavalcade got underway. The entire highway from Versailles to Paris was closed and cleared, all the way up to the Halls of Justice, headquarters of the Parlement de Paris. It made an incredible sight, one for the ages. State Television (which maintained that the situation was fine, crowds were not forming, and the Invincible Christian King was well in control of events as normal) got beautiful film of the convoy departing splendid Versailles. Fifteen carriages of the Royal Family, including the ultra-opulent carriage of the King, were towed by hundreds of stallions, all white. Adorned and glittering in the sun they stormed down the courtyard of Versailles into their journey. Two full regiments of Royal Army soldiers belonging to the beyond elite corps of the Household Troops thundered alongside in formation, mounted as well, a total of some 3,600 men. They were the 2nd Swiss Regiment and the 14th Korean Regiment, attached to the Second Royal Army Korean Division. Already at the Halls of Justice the Basque Brigade, like the former crack mercenary troops dressed in dazzling uniforms, 1000 strong kept a growing but silently sullen crowd at bay with mahogany .306 rifles and lethally sharp bayonets. As always, about the King Sacred Body and traveling on horse behind the Carriages were his Garde Suisse; arguably the finest soldiers on earth and dressed in red, blue, and silver uniforms with concealed Kevlar vests and conspicuous Kevlar plated tricorner helmets.
Le Garde Suisse du Roi (http://www.catholicteachings.org/images/Swiss%20guard.jpg )
Ere two hours the cavalcade escorting the shining carriages reached the Halls of Justice. The swelling crowd was hushed by the thunder of hooves and the glory of the convoy entranced them. For a few good moments even those bribed, and bribed very well, to cause havoc and spread violence at the appointed signals doubted their plans as they gazed upon the Divine Monarch’s carriage as it pulled up the great doors of France’s legal core. The Garde Suisse dismounted like clockwork while the other two regiments formed up in lines before the palatial wide steps of the Halls under their numerous and fine regimental flags and banners.
A military band, more like an orchestra in superbly martial attire, struck the Royal Salute and the flags were dipped; the Garde Suisse presented arms. At that time the kettle drums shook the very streets of Paris as trumpets propounded the metropolis with transcendent cadences.
Like the sun rising in the morning His Most Christian Majesty exited his carriage. Louis-Auguste was dressed in a cloth of gold suit, studded with sapphires and diamonds. He wore a white-plumed tricorner hat fixed with the Regent Diamond. Draped across his chest was the cordon bleu of the Ordu du Saint-Louis, his shoes were buckled with platinum bands and diamond knots. At his side was a sword; in his hand was Charlemagne’s scepter of justices. He seemed to be alive with light, and his sovereign stride was awesome to behold. Power was in his hands, wisdom in his fierce black eyes; altogether he was magnificent to see.
Flanking him in cloth of silver suits yet still with both cordon bleu and white plumed tricorner hats were his eldest brothers les Comtes d’Artois and d’Provence, Lieutenant General of the Armies and First Lord of the Admiralty respectively and le Duc de Normandie, Marshal of the Constabulary. Swords were at their sides too, and messieurs glared fiercely as they followed the King’s Sacred Body down the damask carpet.
As the King and Princes of the Blood, seemingly comets or some other celestial objects, moved down the carpet surrounded by Garde Suisse both escorting and filing into the different entrances of the tiered hall. The seditious jurors refused to bow as etiquette required, whispering about the Louis’ pomposity and snickering about the Aquitaine, before the Royal Party arrived at the tapestried fore of the Hall, whereupon the Most Christian King sat upon a bed of blue velvet cushions laid upon a wide throne of polished teak decorated by gold and silver gilt. The throne sat under a canopy of blue silk, highlighted with little gold fleur-de-lys. A trumpeter gave a volley, and a gorgeously dressed herald in the King’s livery stepped forward.
“Oyez! Oyez! Attend all! His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste comes to demand registration of his laws, and to order this body out of its intransigent and petty operations!
So commenced the ill-fated Lit de Justice at the Parlement de Paris.
No sooner had the herald finished his proclamation than the Secretary of the Parlement, Monsieur Poisson, stepped forward to the lectern opposite and under the throne. Poisson was a devotee of Chartres, and more than that one of those infinitesimally rare curiosities in Restoration France: an acknowledged republican who kept his post after the governmental changes…moreover, a republican who was popular with the bourgeoisie of Paris. Ironically he was not aware of the conspiracy per se, his only task as allotted by the secret master of this whole affair Cagliostro was to be a ‘people’s martyr’…a vocation he was soon to answer. He hated the King because he was an egalitarian. Likewise, he hated the Church because he was an atheist. This is the man who raised the challenge soon to ignite the conspiracy’s full plot.
“Louis-Auguste of France! You are charged with misappropriation of the general fund, and of making use of that misappropriation to shield Mlle du Barry from the legal right of this legal body to arrest her. How do yo…mmphh!” he never had a chance to finish.
At the slightest nod from the King who (unfortunately like Cagliostro) anticipated this outburst four large Switzers, led by barrel-chested Sergeant Blazer, fell upon the orator in a flash. A strong hand clapped over his mouth, in a few seconds he was gagged with rope and shackled. The muscular quartet dragged the fellow to a corner of the hall, still in plain view, and ripped off his shirt very roughly before securing his hands spread eagle against the wall.
The jurors were now very silent, the whispers at the King’s entrance had ceased. The Parlement did not expect the King to come in so forceful a mood, being prepped by Chartres otherwise. Chartres, however, sat back in his seat comfortably, a mask of indifference upon his face.
It stayed indifferent even, after a second miniscule nod from the King, Sergeant Blazer took out a leather whip and with a loud pop gave Poisson his first lash.
As the rebellious republican was lashed before the eyes of his fellows, Ludovicus-Augustus spoke:
“This body, which had been my father’s pleasure to reconstitute, now with its foolish actions and wanton abuse of France’s law threatens the very security of my kingdom” proclaimed Louis, reclining into his massive throne. He rested the hand of justice on his chest as he stared down the jurors.
As he spoke the crack of the whip and subsequent cries of Poisson it caused were too audible, yet the monarch went right on.
“That you, the servants of my administration, would ever dare to summon me! That you would ever dare to impugn my authority with law suits made upon a vassal of mine (he spoke, of course, of Mlle du Barry)! For shame! Knaves and blackguards is what this body is! I have had enough, enough I say!” as he raised his voice just slightly, he flicked his hand a tad, and the heavy beating of the arrogant Secretary ended. Poisson fell to the floor: bloody, unconscious, but still alive. The King then smiled, the smile of absolute power, and made his demands.
“You will now, at my express command, vote yourselves out of existence. Yes, you will vote, and you all had better like it; it will be the last vote you shall ever cast!” the King smirked, and the elite lawyers and jurors of le Parlement de Paris were utterly shocked. Even the foul Duc de Chartres, who had assurances from Cagliostro himself about the events which would surely occur, was taken aback at this unexpected move.
Alas for His Majesty no solution would suffice for the riddle before him now weaved. The crowds outside were well aware of what was going on. Due to the rabble rousers and agents provocateurs among them they hated rather than cheered another victory of the King’s. The pamphlets stated that if the Parlements fell the people would soon be utterly controlled by the absolute monarchy. The video so ingeniously leaked by the conspirators decided their opinion, along with cash bribes given to those who would wave signs and holler. In the conservative countryside the country remained behind the King, however. They knew their lot would improve once the lawyers were done away with. Louis-Auguste and his father before him had given France her life again, brought the Catholic Church back and improved the economy for the benefit of all. No matter what a person’s lot in life was, that lot was something to take pride in. People took pride in being part of the great French family, which prayed and acknowledged the authority of its patriarch the King.
Yet the Paris mobs, always so fickle, were not remote Strasbourg or Rouen…they were enflamed. It was not even a huge mob, only about 50,000. But it was growing as people got sucked into its vortex. The backbone was formed of middle class professionals, students (of course), intellectuals, and closet republicans and socialists who followed the order but loved neither the Holy Catholic Church nor the Crown. The newcomers, however, were just joining of the bandwagon so to speak. Taken together this was a formula for rebellion.
The noise began to slowly rise in the square before the Halls just as inside they were silent. Louis-Auguste’s resonant voice, as clear and beautiful as his father’s, filled the Hall:
“Once you have voted yourselves to oblivion, you will go into exile in the city of Ancenis (a known royalist fortress town). There you will work the land and pray for absolution of your wicked sins of demagoguery and treason. One day, perhaps, when you have learned the love of Christ and of my Crown you may return.” Thus concluded His Most Christian Majesty crossed the royal legs comfortably and produced a cigarette. Le Comte d’Artois stepped forward and lit it for his brother. Louis-Auguste took a drag and scanned the audience coolly.
The best lawyers in France stood openmouthed and silent. The sound of a pin dropping could be heard. There was no movement save the sound of le Duc de Chartres taking a pinch of snuff.
The King grinned and generously waved his scepter of justice at them.
“Gentlemen, you may begin!”
A majority seemed certain, but the discussion never reached that stage. Murmurs arose, and in the hubbub Chartres stood up and declared the vote illegal. His Majesty looked his cousin square in the eyes and took a long drag of his cigarette.
“Certainly it is legal. It is legal because it is my wish” Louis stared sharply as he forcefully spoke. Such was the power of his presence in that hour that when Chartres made to speak the King but raised his hand causing Dominic sat down aghast.
There was then a queer silence for several minutes, while the King smoked his cigarette and the Princes of the Blood stood by him fiercer than any bodyguards. After five minutes, Louis checked his watched and smiled again. He nodded to the herald and said “Monsieur Espremenil, would you register the vote?”
The herald nodded and bowed gracefully. His voice boomed throughout the Hall:
“The vote is registered as 300 in favor, none opposed.”
Murmurs broke out again, but a second time Louis raised his hand, and a second time they were silent. The Garde Suisse began to guide the jurors out of their seat and to waiting armored buses in the rear of the Halls of Justice.
“Go now, and return to me when you are better” declared the King. They filed out a defeated body. Louis then pointed to Chartres.
“You, cousin, are going too” said Louis with a smile. And so the Switzers fell on Chartres as well, in his case dragging him kicking and screaming from the Hall. Cagliostro had not expected this, damn it, though le Duc de Chartres. Nevertheless, Cagliostro was a genius if there ever was, and the King’s cousin a vital piece in the puzzle of revolution the Illuminati were creating.
When His Majesty left the Halls of Justice towards his carriage the rebellion began. The most surprised at the furor of the crowd was the King himself. In his mind Louis could not comprehend the devices that had manipulated and now inspired this mob. Maurepas was terrified looking out into the sea of people. How a crowd could be this volatile over such an issue was beyond even the crafty advisor. But swiftly did le Comte understand the danger the hollers began.
When the crowd saw the King exit the Halls a roar went up, a roar so loud that those about him saw Ludovicus-Augustus flinch. The mob was prepped and angry, incited by lies, half-truths, and cold hard cash. Screaming and frothing, as opposed to the heretofore royal welcome of “Vive le Roi!” and cheers the mob launched themselves towards the steps of the Halls.
Most historians cite this as the moment when the Revolution per se began.
The Basque Brigade troopers were shocked at the power and momentum of the Parisians, who like wicked lightning smashed into them. In a few seconds the Basque’s line was in tatters, and the crowd was in sight of a shocked King. The soldiers, those who were not bowled over, began to beat the mass back with their rifles and bayonets…but it was like a garden hose attempting to allay a brush fire.
Yet Louis-Auguste, feeling the vitae of Louis XIV rise within him, took charge once again of his realm. He turned to Lieutenant General de Bombelles and in a voice of imperious command barked:
“Monsieur Bombelles, sound the cavalry to draw sabers.” No sooner had he spoken than the trumpet rang out, and the mounted Suisse and Koreans drew glittering swords.
“Full charge!” said the King, bright eyed and surrounded by his splendidly attired Garde Suisse.
The Illuminati had hoped to apprehend the King at this moment and to have him held at the mercy of the mob led by their agents provocateurs. The Royal Cavalry, however, had different notions. In a few clicks of the watch the Basque Brigade had been rescued from their predicament. After that, the Cavalry ruthlessly charged the mob, and the blood of protestors drenched the Place Henri IV.
Using this small moment of reprieve, the Royal Party, along with their cavalry, returned to Versailles as chaos consumed the moaning mob. The Basque Brigade went to reinforce the Bastille, which was vital in order to maintain control of Paris.
Once His Most Christian Majesty returned to Versailles the full extent of the revolt filtered in.
Six full divisions of Gardes Francais, stationed in Marseilles and the Languedoc, flew the red flag of revolt. The officers were killed in secret the previous night, and the armies swore their allegiance to Chartres. A group calling itself the United Front, made of exiled French now returning under the machinations of Cagliostro, joined the rebellious Garde Francais Divisions and declared themselves the legitimate government of France. There were thousands of them, all trained for their great endeavor. The sailors in Cherbourg harbor wavered, and the Admiralty called in the Flanders Regiment of the Royal Army to prevent the enlisted men from taking the Royal Navy by force.
The train carrying the Parlementarians and le Duc de Chartres to Ancenis was hijacked and its treasonous cargo rescued. In Paris the agents of Cagliostro called for the formation of a People’s Army. The Halls of Justice were stormed, and declared the headquarters of the Militia. Poisson was found alive, and instead of becoming a martyr he was made a hero by the mob. Churches were looted and ransacked: at All Saints Church in a working class Parisian neighborhood the prelate was hung from his altar and the treasury looted ‘for the people.’ The hand of Cagliostro, that was.
The remaining Garde Francais Divisions, at the advice of Maurepas, were ordered to remain at their posts. To move them would at this point, le Comte believed, incite them to join the ghastly revolt as well.
The Revolution was under way, and aristocrats by the thousand fled to Versailles by plain, train, and automobile to beg protection of His Most Christian King. Louis-Auguste called the Royal Army together, and commanded them to proceed with all haste to Versailles. The Royal Army being an elite body with an excellent transportation service about ¾ of the Royal Army, some 200,000 troops, arrived by nightfall at the vast palace complex. The 2nd Turkish Division, Heavy Infantry, blocked the road from Paris to the Sun’s House…there would be no repeats of the First Revolution.
All the pieces were set and moving. As the Royal Army set up camp around Versailles, the Bodyguard marched for the King in formation, saluting with cries of “Vive le Roi et la Reine!” and “Vivat Rex in Aeternum!”. The Royal Army, that elite mercenary corps loyal only to the King, would make a good fight of it before the Revolution had its way.
Parade of the King's Household Troops---Royal Czech Regiment (http://www.usma.edu/PublicAffairs/PV/French%20march%20past%20(close).jpg)
Parade of the King's Household Troops---3rd Regiment Royal Swiss (http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38135000/jpg/_38135709_foreignlegion300.jpg )
In the darkness of his coven, Cagliostro knew victory was far from assured.
In the countryside, loyal subjects flocked to protect their parish Church and the local manor house. They flew the fleur-de-lys, and swore allegiance to Christ and Crown. In the cities, workers raised the red flag and gathered into militia. Yet as of now the Bastille, millions of times stronger and more heavily armed than the original, still stood with a strong garrison in the center of Paris. The monarchy stood upon the edge of a knife.
And in le Grand Chateau of Versailles, the whole Royal Family gathered together with their Bodyguard and hundreds of aristocratic families…admitted also were loyal subjects of every class, who went to their knees alongside royal and noble alike. They knelt together, holding hands. As one they lifted their voice to God, and led by the righteous baritone voice of the Grand Almoner of France Cardinal Prince de Rohan called down hellfire and brimstone on the rebels and impeached Christ to descend and defend his lieutenant upon earth.
Never was heard a more fervent prayer.