In the months that followed, life was somewhat "peaceful," at least compared to the days when Bastille was under siege.
Order had been restored in the higher echelons of Paris. The newly formed National Guard patrolled day and night, ensuring that troublemakers dared not create havoc in these areas. The poorer citizens had been mostly weeded out from the National Guard since they needed to focus on earning a living rather than receiving military training.
But if one ventured outside these neighborhoods and inadvertently crossed into the regions where the less fortunate resided, they would immediately notice that the restoration of order was nothing more than an illusion. The chaos here was even worse than it had been before the revolution.
As Aunt Sophie put it, the streets were now infested with thieves and robbers.
"I wouldn't dare walk the streets with a loaf of bread," Aunt Sophie remarked when Joseph suggested she take some bread for her children. "Mr. Bonaparte, you have no idea how chaotic it is outside these neighborhoods! My word, for a woman like me to walk the streets with a loaf of bread, it's more dangerous than wandering in a forest with tigers. Not just me, even someone as sturdy as you, if you were alone, I'm sure you wouldn't take a hundred steps before someone robbed you. If it were young Monsieur Lucien, well, he wouldn't even make it ten steps before being shot. And as for little Louis, well, he and the bread would both vanish without a trace."
"In that case, how do you bring the bread home?" Joseph asked.
"We go in groups," Aunt Sophie replied. "If you men hadn't stirred up trouble with your Estates-General and kings and meetings and revolutions, we thought, 'Life is already tough enough, a bit of excitement won't make it any harder.' But look at us now... Mr. Bonaparte, they said once the Estates-General was convened, everyone would have enough to eat. But there are some bad folks who won't let us hold our meetings. So we all went to fight those bad folks. But even after we fought them and the meetings were held, bread became more expensive. When the Estates-General wasn't in session, we couldn't afford bread; when it was in session, we still couldn't afford it. What's the use of that Estates-General then?"
Joseph sighed and said, "Aunt Sophie, the Estates-General itself can't produce bread."
In his mind, he added, "And the representatives don't really think about how to ensure the lowest rungs of society have enough bread."
This thought wasn't unfounded. In fact, most of the representatives were wealthy and had no worries about bread. Some even compared French and British wages, concluding that French wages were too high, harming the economy, and proposing legal restrictions on high salaries.
"But wasn't it said that once the Estates-General convened, everyone would have a good life? They can't just deceive people like that," Aunt Sophie grumbled.
"In reality, it's not just you," Joseph sighed. "Even for me, these days are tougher than before. Everything has become more expensive besides salaries. My life has become harder."
While this statement was partly true, Joseph's life would indeed have been challenging if he relied solely on his schoolteacher's salary. Even someone like Joseph, a "skilled professional" (as he self-deprecatingly referred to himself), could find himself in difficulties. For ordinary people, life was even tougher.
However, without the Estates-General and the revolution, even if the lives of ordinary people were slightly harder, there might not have been any upheaval. In Europe, the French, even the lower classes, had relatively decent lives. Compared to British workers with an average life expectancy of less than three years or Russian serfs who lacked personal freedom, the French's standard of living was significantly higher. As for the Germans, Heinrich Heine even claimed, "One percent of the suffering experienced by the German people would be enough to trigger a thousand uprisings in France."
The issue was that the Estates-General's convening had given the lower classes great hope, and all French, even people like Aunt Sophie, were aware of it. Continuous propaganda only inflated this hope, making it seem as though once the Estates-General was convened and the king supported constitutional rule, all problems would be solved. It was almost like, "After the Estates-General, we'll have everything – foie gras on the table and a sweetheart to embrace at night."
However, in the face of reality, this hope, magnified beyond belief, burst like a soap bubble. The Estates-General convened, the Constituent Assembly was established, and Bastille was taken, but there was not even black bread, let alone foie gras. The agony caused by this disparity far exceeded the suffering of going hungry and consequently fueled hatred. This is why the grand revolution erupted first in France rather than in the most oppressive nations.
"That's why the king's decision to convene the Estates-General was his biggest mistake," the Marquis de Mirabeau declared at the Royal Palace, conversing with the Duke of Orleans, the host of the gathering.
The Marquis de Mirabeau was quite a character, known for his scandalous reputation. He had spent the earlier part of his life either embroiled in scandals or locked in prison.
The young Marquis had always displayed a penchant for debauchery. His father had sent him to the army for discipline, but he preferred gambling, pursuing women, and even attempting desertion. This ultimately led to his incarceration in the Château d'If. After his release, he participated in suppressing the Corsican rebellion, where he excelled and was promoted to the rank of captain before returning to Paris.
Upon his father's arrangements, he married Emily, the daughter of the Marquis de Morieu, hoping to gain access to her substantial wealth. However, the couple was ill-suited for each other, mutually disliking one another and sharing a love for extravagant living that led to insurmountable debt. In an attempt to preserve the family's reputation, the elder Marquis imprisoned him and prohibited him from handling any finances. Nonetheless, Mirabeau continued his reckless behavior and was incarcerated in the Château d'If once again in 1774, the same fortress featured in "The Count of Monte Cristo."
In 1775, Mirabeau was released from prison. However, immediately upon his release, he seduced the young wife of the Marquis de Morieu, then eloped with her to Holland.
This behavior led to his father completely cutting off his financial support. Mirabeau was forced to make a living through writing. Mirabeau hailed from the upper echelons of society and was well aware of the corruption within the French aristocracy. Consequently, he became a prominent critic of the old French system.
However, the income he earned from writing wasn't sufficient to maintain his lavish lifestyle. Mirabeau was notorious for his extravagant living and overspending. During this period, he faced numerous financial disputes and was once again imprisoned due to debt. He claimed that the reactionary French authorities were persecuting him.
However, Mirabeau was soon released from prison, and miraculously, he managed to clear his debts, living even more extravagantly. Surprisingly, he didn't get into trouble over financial disputes again. He credited this to his various successful investments, which he claimed brought him substantial returns. He insisted that achieving financial independence was just one small achievement. Many believed that he had found a wealthy patron, someone wholly dedicated to tarnishing the king's reputation – the Duke of Orleans.
Mirabeau's continued critique of the old French system gained him a good reputation among the dissatisfied Third Estate. When the Estates-General convened, Mirabeau became one of its representatives and eventually a leader of the National Assembly.
"However, in situations like this, the Parisians have experienced many times before," the Duke of Orleans mused. "Besides, this year's wheat is growing splendidly, and everyone believes that if there are no unexpected natural disasters, we'll have a harvest like we haven't seen in nearly a decade. When that happens, the price of food will surely decrease. This isn't within anyone's control. Once food prices drop, the people's dissatisfaction will diminish, and the flames of the revolution will die down. If we don't seize the moment, the old regime will persist."
The Duke of Orleans furrowed his brow.
Mirabeau chuckled, his jowls shaking.
"Don't worry, Your Grace. With the current situation, how can we wait for the autumn harvest? It's different now. The Estates-General and the revolution have given them hope. If reality shatters that hope, the resulting anger won't be easy to suppress. Moreover, no one can suppress such anger these days. Even in the rural provinces, unrest is brewing. The peasants are desperate to rid themselves of feudal rents and the tithe. They can't wait anymore, and revolts are breaking out everywhere. To pacify them, the Constituent Assembly is preparing a new law. This new law will face resistance from the king, and we'll use it to raise prices. Then we'll redirect the people's anger toward the king. This will work in our favor."