[ Picture it, Paris, 1830... Enjolras takes a moment to consider what of the political background is needed here, and what would be too much of an information dump. All things considered, Enjolras decides to go with a slightly amended version of past events. ]
About six years before our July Revolution, a new King came to the throne. He, and his brother before him were set up as rulers because they were members of a ruling family, not because the people had wished them to be there. It is a very common thing, or was at home, that Kings inherit their nations by birth and power of blood. About sixteen years before we revolted, when France was given a king again, a charter was established and it severely limited a good deal of freedoms for the people. Censorship of the press, persecution of religions other than the Catholic...they were aggressions that started to wear upon the people.
Slowly, things began to grow worse. There was a law proscribing death as the penalty for profaning the church. [For the Eucharist, in specific, but it's a matter of religion Enjolras is not certain is the same between worlds and he hardly wants to get into that explanation too.] And then, there was another law passed arguing that the people must pay those who had been deemed enemies of the Republic back in our first Revolution.
The people had been promised a good deal of more freedom than they proved to be getting, you see, and the air was already ripe for change and a return to their lives under the republic. While all of this was going on, a good many of my friends and I arrived in Paris to begin studying and found each other, which helped a good deal, actually. It did not do enough, but it did help, and we formed our little society as a sort of smaller subgroup branching off from the rights of man society. We'd come together, started our great work of liberating the republic once again, and started finding our feet as it were.
We'd authored some pamphlets, printed articles in papers sympathetic to our cause and that was how I came to know Carrel. When he assisted in the founding of Le National, he offered me a place writing articles for our cause, perhaps every...week or so, I think it was. In Spring, the King dissolved our parliament, who some were allowed to vote for, though most of us were below our majorities still, and suspended new elections, which was more than enough to upset even the calmer of our group, but then things became harder still. He dissolved the National Guard as well. Back then, our guardsmen were much more on our side in things. They served as much more of a link between the king and people, and with them gone, and a extremely hot summer, well...
[It's actually approaching the anniversary of those days themselves, roughly, at least, Enjolras thinks,given the timing of Christmas and it feels somehow right to have found the papers now. That does not make the story of the July Revolution any easier, but even so, he'll tell it to the death. Feuilly had the injustice of the Partition of Poland to rage at, but the acts of Charles, and their result, are his particular grievance, even now.]
In July, our king signed yet more ordinances that wrested away more of our power. The middle class were also barred from voting, more positions were dissolved, business owners now banned for running from office, and,on top of this for many of us, he suspended all liberties of the press instead of 'just' [Those are some air-quotes Enjolras has learned here that he is attaching to the word, yes.] the censorship we had been under.
That day was a Sunday, but by the next morning everything had changed. Our business owners wished to protest, so they shut their businesses, and the workers had nowhere to go, but joining others who'd been slowly fired all summer. They ordered our republican papers shut down, and many did, but fifty of us met at Le National and signed that we would keep on printing. Well, they made the choices, but I did sign in my support as well. Because we had stayed open, they came to shut us down that night and take our contraband.
[Here, Enjolras is tapping at Carrel's printed words again, nearly seeing the man himself as he put down those very words.]
We stayed around, of course, on principle, and well, we were a group of journalists. I do not think that I've ever known journalists to flee before any major events, and republican journalists at that, meaning we had a great deal of things to defend.
We'd gathered quite the mob in our support, at our press when they arrived, and that was when we started fighting.
[Enjolras, himself, had draped himself over the press containing the arranged print for the edition now in his hands, and, though he did not raise his voice, made everything quite clear to the officers sent in that they would have to take the press from him by force, or by his death. There is something of that spark he had shown then in his eyes now, almost as though he expects for someone around him to provide a challenge.]
It was exactly as I read. Obedience was long past a duty we would even pretend at, and we prepared to offer up what resistance we could. There were no chances, or leaving the press to fall into police hands, and I...well, things all became rather confused...
[They'd tried to pull him off, or push or shove, but it had finally been a knock to the face with a nightstick, and a boot firmly, sharply, pressed into his spine and quite a lot of darkness rushing up to meet him then, though he had kept this secret from near everyone, or he had tried to, then.]
The next I knew, it was much later and I sent Gavroche and some of his small army to gather everyone else that we could meet and plan our next moves together.
[Here, Enjolras is pausing, taking a moment to breathe, and giving Midii a halfway sheepish expression since this is probably the first time she's heard him going on like this at all.]
This is all much longer than I'd thought that it would be. Perhaps we ought to find somewhere to sit before I tell you more.
no subject
Picture it, Paris, 1830...Enjolras takes a moment to consider what of the political background is needed here, and what would be too much of an information dump. All things considered, Enjolras decides to go with a slightly amended version of past events. ]About six years before our July Revolution, a new King came to the throne. He, and his brother before him were set up as rulers because they were members of a ruling family, not because the people had wished them to be there. It is a very common thing, or was at home, that Kings inherit their nations by birth and power of blood. About sixteen years before we revolted, when France was given a king again, a charter was established and it severely limited a good deal of freedoms for the people. Censorship of the press, persecution of religions other than the Catholic...they were aggressions that started to wear upon the people.
Slowly, things began to grow worse. There was a law proscribing death as the penalty for profaning the church. [For the Eucharist, in specific, but it's a matter of religion Enjolras is not certain is the same between worlds and he hardly wants to get into that explanation too.] And then, there was another law passed arguing that the people must pay those who had been deemed enemies of the Republic back in our first Revolution.
The people had been promised a good deal of more freedom than they proved to be getting, you see, and the air was already ripe for change and a return to their lives under the republic. While all of this was going on, a good many of my friends and I arrived in Paris to begin studying and found each other, which helped a good deal, actually. It did not do enough, but it did help, and we formed our little society as a sort of smaller subgroup branching off from the rights of man society. We'd come together, started our great work of liberating the republic once again, and started finding our feet as it were.
We'd authored some pamphlets, printed articles in papers sympathetic to our cause and that was how I came to know Carrel. When he assisted in the founding of Le National, he offered me a place writing articles for our cause, perhaps every...week or so, I think it was. In Spring, the King dissolved our parliament, who some were allowed to vote for, though most of us were below our majorities still, and suspended new elections, which was more than enough to upset even the calmer of our group, but then things became harder still. He dissolved the National Guard as well. Back then, our guardsmen were much more on our side in things. They served as much more of a link between the king and people, and with them gone, and a extremely hot summer, well...
[It's actually approaching the anniversary of those days themselves, roughly, at least, Enjolras thinks,given the timing of Christmas and it feels somehow right to have found the papers now. That does not make the story of the July Revolution any easier, but even so, he'll tell it to the death. Feuilly had the injustice of the Partition of Poland to rage at, but the acts of Charles, and their result, are his particular grievance, even now.]
In July, our king signed yet more ordinances that wrested away more of our power. The middle class were also barred from voting, more positions were dissolved, business owners now banned for running from office, and,on top of this for many of us, he suspended all liberties of the press instead of 'just' [Those are some air-quotes Enjolras has learned here that he is attaching to the word, yes.] the censorship we had been under.
That day was a Sunday, but by the next morning everything had changed. Our business owners wished to protest, so they shut their businesses, and the workers had nowhere to go, but joining others who'd been slowly fired all summer. They ordered our republican papers shut down, and many did, but fifty of us met at Le National and signed that we would keep on printing. Well, they made the choices, but I did sign in my support as well. Because we had stayed open, they came to shut us down that night and take our contraband.
[Here, Enjolras is tapping at Carrel's printed words again, nearly seeing the man himself as he put down those very words.]
We stayed around, of course, on principle, and well, we were a group of journalists. I do not think that I've ever known journalists to flee before any major events, and republican journalists at that, meaning we had a great deal of things to defend.
We'd gathered quite the mob in our support, at our press when they arrived, and that was when we started fighting.
[Enjolras, himself, had draped himself over the press containing the arranged print for the edition now in his hands, and, though he did not raise his voice, made everything quite clear to the officers sent in that they would have to take the press from him by force, or by his death. There is something of that spark he had shown then in his eyes now, almost as though he expects for someone around him to provide a challenge.]
It was exactly as I read. Obedience was long past a duty we would even pretend at, and we prepared to offer up what resistance we could. There were no chances, or leaving the press to fall into police hands, and I...well, things all became rather confused...
[They'd tried to pull him off, or push or shove, but it had finally been a knock to the face with a nightstick, and a boot firmly, sharply, pressed into his spine and quite a lot of darkness rushing up to meet him then, though he had kept this secret from near everyone, or he had tried to, then.]
The next I knew, it was much later and I sent Gavroche and some of his small army to gather everyone else that we could meet and plan our next moves together.
[Here, Enjolras is pausing, taking a moment to breathe, and giving Midii a halfway sheepish expression since this is probably the first time she's heard him going on like this at all.]
This is all much longer than I'd thought that it would be. Perhaps we ought to find somewhere to sit before I tell you more.