After comforting Armand, Joseph left the Peterson Theater and hopped into a lightweight horse-drawn carriage to head home. The two-wheeled carriage moved slowly along the road under the pleasant weather. Joseph folded the roof of the carriage and looked around.
At this point, the carriage was nearing the Île de la Cité, the heart of Paris and the birthplace of the city itself. The Notre-Dame Cathedral stood on this island. Joseph looked around and could spot the towering spire of the cathedral and the new bridge that stretched across the Seine. Despite its name, the "new" bridge was, in fact, a bridge dating back to the 15th century and was the oldest one on the Seine.
As the carriage's pace slowed down due to the increasing crowd of people and vehicles on the streets, Joseph understood that this was the bustling heart of Paris, and such congestion was quite normal here. But as the carriage continued forward, the streets grew even more crowded, to the point where people were practically shoulder to shoulder.
The carriage driver reined in the horse and turned to Joseph, saying, "Sir, it seems there's something going on up ahead, and we won't be able to pass through. If you'd like to take a detour and cross the river using another bridge, it'll be quite a distance and take more time, not to mention extra cost. I think it might be better for you to disembark here, walk through this stretch, cross the river, and find another lightweight carriage on the other side. That way, you'll save some time."
Joseph peered ahead, and it was clear that the new bridge was completely congested with people. Joseph knew the carriage driver was right, so he nodded, took out two sous from his pocket, handed them to the driver, adjusted his hat, grabbed his cane, and alighted from the carriage. He began walking along the street toward the other side of the bridge.
As he advanced, the crowd grew denser, and various voices became increasingly clamorous. Joseph noticed that nearly everyone's faces expressed a mix of anxiety and excitement. His ears caught snippets of conversations:
"The Third Estate is what? The Third Estate is France, it's everything..."
"We, the Third Estate, can't be silenced with just one vote..."
"Exactly, we won't let them..."
"We need our own..."
"We must defend ourselves..."
"No National Assembly, no constitution, and no one's taking a sou from us!"
Joseph grabbed the arm of a young man nearby and asked, "What's happening?"
"The king has closed the Menin Hall, and there are rumors he wants to dissolve the National Assembly. We can't allow him to do that!" the man replied.
Before Joseph could respond, another hand latched onto his arm, belonging to a similarly anxious but excited face. "Sir, we can't let the privileged classes trample over us anymore. We're not lowly soil; we are the true France, don't you agree?"
Clearly, at this moment, it wasn't wise to express any disagreement. Joseph immediately replied, "You're right. We can't let them trample us."
"We need a constitution!" someone nearby shouted.
"Yes, we need a constitution. We won't let the king and the privileged class do as they please!"
"The king is preparing to send troops to crush us. I heard he's quietly amassing an army, and he plans to kill us all, just like the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre," another voice suddenly chimed in.
The crowd fell silent, and fear was visible in everyone's eyes.
"They...they are capable of such things..." one person said.
"We can't let them do it."
"The soldiers are also part of the Third Estate; they won't..."
"But soldiers follow orders, and they can buy mercenaries with the money they seize from us. They'll use our own funds to hire mountain people to kill us!"
"We need to be prepared; we can't just sit idly..."
Listening to these cries, Joseph knew that history had finally reached this point.
A few days ago, at the Estates-General, the king had agreed to the Third Estate's request to increase their representation from 300 to 600 delegates. However, he insisted on the traditional one-vote-per-estate system. In France, 98% of the population belonged to the Third Estate, yet they only had one vote. The clergy of the First Estate and the hereditary nobility of the Second Estate also each had one vote. Such a setup practically meant that, no matter how you played the game, the privileged classes could use their numerical advantage to have their way. The interests of the vast Third Estate would receive no protection.
While this voting system was indeed a traditional one in France, at this moment, King Louis XVI was deluding himself to think that the Third Estate, economically empowered and influenced by Enlightenment ideals, would let themselves be manipulated just as serfs were over a hundred years ago. His thinking seemed utterly out of touch with reality.
The representatives of the Third Estate could not accept this arrangement. The entire Third Estate saw this meeting as an opportunity to gain more rights. In simpler terms, they wanted taxes, but they also wanted corresponding rights. They were willing to pay, but they wanted something in return.
When the king called for the Estates-General, the Third Estate saw this as their chance to gain more rights. The news of the upcoming Estates-General had prompted Abbé Sieyès to publish his political pamphlet, "What is the Third Estate?" where he clearly stated that the Third Estate should have a higher status. The king's insistence on "tradition" had put him squarely against the entire Third Estate.
The representatives of the Third Estate, and by extension, the entire Third Estate itself, could not and would not submit to the king's terms. They took matters into their own hands and declared themselves the "National Assembly," claiming absolute legislative authority and announcing their intention to draft France's first constitution.
This audacious move, of course, wasn't something the king could tolerate. Louis XVI ordered the closure of the Menin Hall, which had been provided to the Third Estate for their meetings, and there were rumors that he intended to forcibly dissolve the "illegitimate" "National Assembly." This news reached Joseph at this moment.
As the days passed, Paris itself began to boil. Almost everyone took to the streets, and people could be seen engaging in spirited debates or hushed conversations. Every street was as crowded as a market, and the bustling atmosphere continued until nightfall when Joseph finally reached his home.
The next day at noon, Joseph heard more news: the "National Assembly" representatives had braved the rain to head to the Menin Hall to continue their discussion on drafting a constitution. However, they were blocked by the king's troops. Led by their first president, Jean-Sylvain Bailly, the representatives decided to defend their nascent National Assembly and gathered at the royal tennis court nearby. The Third Estate representatives there took an oath, pledging to work toward a constitutional monarchy and never to separate from the National Assembly.
Many people were concerned that the king would send troops to the royal tennis court to arrest these audacious Third Estate representatives. However, for several days, there was no sign of any action from the king. In a surprising turn of events, a group of First and Second Estate representatives, led by the Duke of Orléans and the Marquis de Lafayette, joined the National Assembly. The House of Orléans was one of the most prominent families in France, and Lafayette had been the commander-in-chief of the French forces during the American Revolutionary War, playing a crucial role in the Battle of Yorktown. This earned him the title of "Hero of the New World" from the Americans, and his victory was one of France's rare triumphs over Britain in many years. As a result, Lafayette was highly respected in the military as well. The actions of the Duke of Orléans and the Marquis de Lafayette significantly boosted the morale of the National Assembly and strengthened their legitimacy. They could now claim to represent not only the Third Estate but also the entire French nation, including the First and Second Estates.
A few days later, the National Assembly officially changed its name to the "National Constituent Assembly" as they prepared to formally draft the "Constitution of the Kingdom of France." Meanwhile, rumors began to circulate that the king was sending a large number of troops, especially mercenaries, to Paris. Many supporters of the Third Estate started arming themselves in preparation for a potential conflict.
In the midst of this fervor and apprehension, Armand's "Spartacus" finally had its premiere.