Premiere Amidst Turmoil (1)

After soothing Armand, Joseph left the Peterson Theater and boarded a one-horse hansom cab, preparing to head home. The two-wheeled carriage moved slowly along the road; as the weather was fine, Joseph folded back the hood and gazed around at his surroundings.

By now, the carriage had followed the Seine River to the edge of the Île de la Cité. The island was the heart of Paris and the birthplace of the city, and Notre-Dame de Paris stood upon it. Joseph looked in all directions, catching sight of the cathedral's towering spires in the distance, as well as the Pont Neuf lying across the Seine. Despite the "New" in its name, the bridge was actually an old structure built in the fifteenth century—it was, in fact, the oldest bridge on the entire river.

The carriage slowed down as the streets became increasingly crowded with people and vehicles. This area was naturally one of the most bustling parts of Paris, so such a phenomenon was not entirely unusual. However, as the carriage pushed forward, the crowds grew denser, until they were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

The coachman reined in the horse, turned his head, and said to Joseph, "Sir, I don't know what's happening up ahead, but we can't get through. If you want to take a detour and cross the river via another bridge, I'm afraid it will be a much longer route, take a great deal of time, and cost more. I think you'd be better off getting out here and walking through this stretch; once you reach the other side of the river, you can find another hansom cab. It would be more economical."

Joseph looked ahead; the area near the Pont Neuf was a sea of heads, and the carriage clearly could not pass. Knowing the coachman was right, Joseph nodded, fished two sous from his pocket to pay him, adjusted his hat, picked up his cane, and stepped out of the carriage to walk toward the bridge.

The further he went, the more crowded it became, and the cacophony of voices grew louder. Joseph noticed that almost everyone around him wore an expression of anxiety and worry, yet there was also a faint, underlying air of excitement. His ears were constantly filled with snatches of conversation:

"What is the Third Estate? The Third Estate is France, it is everything..."

"We of the Third Estate must not be limited to only one vote..."

"That's right, we cannot let them just..."

"We must have our own..."

"We must defend ourselves..."

"Without the National Assembly, without a constitution, no one is taking a single sou from us!"

Joseph reached out and grabbed a young man passing by, asking, "What has happened?"

"The King has announced the closure of the Salle des Menus-Plaisirs, and some say he intends to dissolve the National Assembly! We cannot allow him to do this!" the man replied.

Before Joseph could respond, another hand reached out and grabbed his arm. Joseph turned to see a face that was equally young, and equally filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement: "Sir, we must never again let those privileged classes trample upon us at will. We are not lowly dirt; we are the true France! Don't you agree!"

Clearly, it would be unwise to express any dissenting opinion at such a moment. Joseph replied immediately, "You are right; we cannot let them trample us like this."

"A constitution, we need a constitution!" someone shouted not far away.

"That's right, we must have a constitution; we cannot let the King and the privileged classes do as they please!"

"The King will send troops to suppress us. I heard he is secretly gathering an army. He intends to slaughter us all once the time is ripe, just like the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre," another voice suddenly rang out.

The people nearby fell silent, looking at one another, and everyone could see the fear in the eyes of those around them.

"They... they are capable of such things..." someone said.

"We must never let them do it."

"The soldiers are also of the Third Estate; they wouldn't..."

"But soldiers must obey orders! They can use money to buy those mercenaries—using the very money they squeezed from us to hire those mountain folk to kill us!"

"We must be prepared; we cannot wait to be slaughtered..."

Listening to these cries, Joseph knew that history had finally reached this point.

A few days earlier, at the Estates-General, the King had agreed to the Third Estate's demand to increase their representatives from three hundred to six hundred, but he insisted on the traditional method of voting: one vote per estate. In France, ninety-eight percent of the population belonged to the Third Estate, yet they were granted only one vote. Meanwhile, the First Estate (the clergy) and the Second Estate (the hereditary nobility) each held a vote as well. These rules of the game meant that no matter how things played out, the privileged classes could use their voting majority to do whatever they pleased, leaving the interests of the vast Third Estate with no guarantees.

While this method of vote allocation was indeed a French tradition, for King Louis XVI to expect the Third Estate—which had become unprecedentedly powerful economically and influenced by the Enlightenment—to be as easily manipulated as the serfs of a century ago was a sign that his head was not very clear.

The representatives of the Third Estate could naturally not accept such an arrangement. The Third Estate as a whole was not entirely opposed to tax increases, but they demanded more rights in exchange for their consent. To put it more plainly: they would provide the money, but the King had to offer something in return; they would not give it away for nothing.

When the King proposed convening the Estates-General, the Third Estate viewed it as an opportunity to gain more rights. As soon as news of the upcoming meeting spread, Sieyès published the political pamphlet What Is the Third Estate?, clearly proposing that the Third Estate should occupy a higher status. The King's insistence on "tradition" had now placed him squarely in opposition to the entire Third Estate.

The representatives of the Third Estate would naturally not submit to the King (nor would the entire Third Estate behind them allow it), so they declared themselves the "National Assembly." They claimed absolute authority over legislation and announced their intention to draft the first constitution for France.

Such "usurpation" would, of course, not be permitted by the King. Thus, Louis XVI ordered the closure of the Salle des Menus-Plaisirs, which had previously been provided to the Third Estate representatives for their deliberations. Rumors also circulated that he intended to use force to dissolve the "illegal" National Assembly. This was the news that had just reached the crowd.

At that moment, a middle-aged man dressed as a clergyman appeared at the head of the Pont Neuf, and the crowd immediately erupted in cheers.

"Monsieur Sieyès! It's Monsieur Sieyès!" someone shouted.

"Monsieur Sieyès, Monsieur Sieyès, what should we do? What should we do!" others cried out.

Sieyès climbed onto a handcart pushed by a merchant near the bridge and waved to the crowd: "Rest assured, everyone, this will not intimidate us. We will go to the Salle des Menus-Plaisirs tomorrow as usual. If we cannot draft a constitution for France that truly represents the will of the people, we will never disperse..."

A wave of cheers erupted from all sides. Joseph applauded along with them. He looked at the Pont Neuf, which was packed with people; if he tried to force his way across, he feared his clothes would be torn to shreds. Clearly, like the hansom cab, he would need to take a detour...

However, as the news spread, all of Paris began to boil over. Almost everyone poured into the streets. Everywhere, people could be seen arguing loudly or whispering in corners. Every street was as crowded as a marketplace. As a result, it was not until nightfall that Joseph finally returned to his lodgings.

The following noon, Joseph heard more news: the representatives of the "National Assembly" had braved the rain to head to the Salle des Menus-Plaisirs to continue discussions on the constitution, only to be blocked by troops sent by the King. Led by Bailly, the first president of the National Assembly, the representatives decided to defend the nascent assembly and gathered at the Royal Tennis Court near the hall. There, the Third Estate representatives took an oath that every one of them would commit to drafting a kingdom constitution to improve the monarchy and would never separate from the National Assembly.

Many worried whether the King would send troops to the Royal Tennis Court to arrest these "audacious" Third Estate representatives. Yet, for several days, there was no movement from the King's side. Instead, a group of First and Second Estate representatives, led by the Duke of Orleans and the Marquis de Lafayette, joined the National Assembly. The Orleans Family was one of the most prominent families in France, while the Marquis de Lafayette had been the commander-in-chief of the French forces during the American Revolutionary War; his command had played a crucial role in the decisive battle at Yorktown. For this, he was hailed by the Americans as the "Hero of the New World." His victory was also one of the few the French had enjoyed against the British in many years, giving the Marquis de Lafayette considerable prestige within the army. The actions of the Duke of Orleans and the Marquis de Lafayette immediately boosted the morale of the National Assembly and greatly strengthened their legitimacy. They could now claim to be representatives not just of the Third Estate, but of all of France, including the First and Second Estates.

A few days later, the "National Assembly" was officially renamed the "National Constituent Assembly," and preparations began to formally draft the "Constitution of the Kingdom of France." At the same time, rumors began to circulate that the King was moving large numbers of troops, particularly mercenaries, toward Paris. Many supporters of the Third Estate began to prepare weapons, readying themselves for battle.

It was amidst this fervor and trepidation that Armand's Spartacus finally premiered.