Georges- Jacques Danton ( DAN- Tawn)
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ROUSSEAU, BURKE AND REVOLUTION IN FRANCE, 1791 SECTION LEADERS OF PARIS/THE CROWD Georges- Jacques Danton ( DAN- tawn) ou were born 32 years ago (October 26, 1759), the son of a clerk to a minor local official, in a village calledArcis- sur-Aube, in a district known as Champagne, a scruffy hill country whose grain harvests were notoriously poor. Your family heritage was Y firmly of the peasant class, though your father’s choices and abilities enabled you to be born into the lower middle class. Your father died not too long after your birth, and your mother, Madeline Camut, who you adored, married a cloth maker. At the age of 13, you began to be educated by the Oratorians, who taught you Enlightenment philosophy along with classics and grammar. You showed aptitude in one subject only—Latin—so at 14 you were sent to the seminary at Troyes to become a priest. Within a few years, however, you showed a rebelliousness that suggested you were unsuited to the priesthood, and so you decided to try a career in law. To that end, you went to Paris and took an apprenticeship as an errand boy to a lawyer in Paris. On your own you read the Encyclopédie, Montesquieu, Voltaire, Rousseau, Buffon, as well as, in English, Shakespeare, Milton, and Dante. Yet you knew that you needed a law degree and, acting on a tip from your master, spent a very brief time at the notoriously lax University of Rheims where, in the course of seven days, you completed the requirements for a law degree. You even began practicing law there, but you found that Paris was more to your liking; you moved back to the city and became a Freemason in the years immediately preceding the Revolution. You also were introduced to a smart set of well-connected freethinkers, members of the secret society of the Freemasons, into whose precepts you were initiated. Several years ago, you borrowed enough money to marry Gabrielle Charpentier. This silenced, to a degree, rumors of your ceaseless womanizing. You obtained a position as “Counsel to the King’s Bench,” a fancy-sounding title which in fact merely entitled you to represent a variety of clients in courts over which the king, or his designees, presided. You also met Camille Desmoulins. But this middle-class peace was not to define your life, or even to last, for uprisings and radicalism drew you like a moth to a flame. You took up residence in the Cordeliers section of Paris. And you talked, incessantly, of the need for a profound change in France. When mass unrest over the price of bread caused revolts, you went to radical meetings, especially those held at the Cordeliers Club. You were “drawn to [them] by their proximity and the democratic spirit of the times. This was [your] entry, almost haphazard, into politics.” Within the Cordelier Club and at speeches in the Palais Royal, you became known as a powerful orator, and you argued for the redress of “the people’s sense of injustice” as a practical and political necessity.1 The drama taking place at Versailles in 1789 convinced you to devote yourself to revolution. In July 1789, after King Louis XVI had ordered that the Third Estate desist in its claims that it alone con- stituted the nation, you went to the Church of the Convent of the Cordeliers (a Franciscan monastery) and called on someone to ring the bells. Soon a crowd of thousands thronged round, and you “saw an irresistible tide sweep by, so [you] dived in and swam with it.”2 “Citizens!” you shouted, “Let us arm ourselves— let us arm ourselves to repel the 15,000 brigands assembled in Montmartre, and the 30,000 military who are ready to descend on Paris, to loot the city and slaughter its inhabitants!” 1. Lawday, The Giant of the French Revolution: Danton, a Life (New York: Grove Press, 2009), 35–7. 2. Ibid., 44–5. ROLE SHEET: Georges-Jacques Danton, Section Leaders of Paris/the Crowd 1 OF 17 214935_RS07_Georges_Jacques_Danton_001-017_r2_el.indd 1 13/01/16 4:45 PM ROUSSEAU, BURKE AND REVOLUTION IN FRANCE, 1791 A few hooted their doubts and said that you would be executed for such words. You responded: “The sovereign people rise against despotism. The monarchy is finished!” Hundreds shouted their assent, and volunteered to fight; you began organizing them into an armed band that called itself the Battalion of the Cordeliers. The next two days went by in a blur. Tens of thousands of people swarmed to the Invalides, and then to the Bastille, where they overwhelmed it and forced its capitulation. You arrived after it had fallen. Then you were elected President of the Cordeliers District Assembly, which, under emergency conditions, met nearly every day (and through much of most evenings). You were given a stage name by your followers: “the Thunderer.” You held court at the Palais Royal, mocking the king and even sentencing him to medieval death; in vengeance for the aristocrats’ cruelty, “the guilty were to be drawn and quartered alive, their hearts torn out and bunged into their mouths.”3 In October, you drafted a manifesto and had it printed and posted throughout the city, calling for all Paris to rise and move on Versailles, with the Cordeliers Battalion in the vanguard. On October 4, 1789, you ordered that the bells of the Cordeliers be rung, and soon a procession of tens of thousands, most of them women, was moving to Versailles. (You subtly proposed that, on second thought, the Cordeliers withdraw from the march: you worried that Lafayette’s National Guard might fire upon them.) The women succeeded on their own and brought the king and his family back to Paris. But the Cordeliers District Assembly gave you special honors for arranging it all. You have contributed essays to both Camille Desmoulins’s newspaper, Courrier de Brabant, and to Marat’s L’Ami du Peuple (“The People’s Friend”), but your strength is speaking and leadership. You did not run for a position as a delegate to the National Assembly, nor did you run for election as one of three hundred councilors to the mayor of Paris. Rather, you lead the latter by the force of your words. When the mayor, Bailly, began to assume excessive powers, for example, you cited Rousseau, to a thun- derous ovation: “If a law is not the expression of the General Will, then that law is worth nothing!” Then, when the National Assembly tried to arrest Marat, the radical editor whose journal made nearly everyone tremble, you sent the Cordeliers Battalion to ring his house to protect him. When Lafayette and his bourgeois National Guard showed up, they did not dare challenge your men. Then you marched to the Tuileries, demanded to speak to the National Assembly, and were refused. The President of the Assembly went so far as to request that it pass a resolution indicating that it “dis- approved” of your “conduct.” You left, despondent, until you learned that the National Guard had marched home, too. Marat was free, and now everyone credited you with saving him. You then spoke at the Jacobin Club, which was increasingly coming under the leadership of Max- imilien Robespierre. You responded by befriending Robespierre and by founding your own club, more radical in tone, called the Society of the Friends of the Rights of Man, soon nicknamed for the place where it met: the Cordeliers. The Cordeliers Club charged membership dues and obliged members to present their credentials before being admitted: your club is truly of and for the people. The only rule is that all speakers must put on the “red cap” of the Revolution before climbing the ladder that leads to the Club’s podium. On the wall behind, you have had emblazoned the words “liberté, egalité, frater- nité”—and now these have become the watchwords of the Revolution. In late 1790, you began to invite the leaders of the forty-eight sections of Paris to attend meetings of the Cordeliers, and your power grew proportionately. When you next returned to the National Assembly and demanded to be heard, the President had no choice but to allow you to speak. You denounced the king’s ministers, and demanded that they all be dismissed. The National Assembly voted 3. Ibid., 46–7 (quotation on p. 47). ROLE SHEET: Georges-Jacques Danton, Section Leaders of Paris/the Crowd 2 OF 17 214935_RS07_Georges_Jacques_Danton_001-017_r2_el.indd 2 13/01/16 4:45 PM ROUSSEAU, BURKE AND REVOLUTION IN FRANCE, 1791 against your proposal, 513 to 340, but no one could doubt any longer that you were a force to be reck- oned with. Last spring you won a citywide election to serve as prosecutor, and then you addressed the Jacobin Club every few weeks, along with holding court at your own Cordeliers each night. At the Jacobins, you spoke as a lawyer; but when speaking to the people of Paris, you addressed them in a language they understood: clear, forceful, humorous, and audacious. Two weeks ago, when the king escaped from the Tuileries—doubtless with Lafayette’s connivance— you raced to the Cordeliers and denounced the king and “the Austrian woman.” You attacked, as well, those in the National Assembly who endorsed a constitutional monarchy: By upholding a hereditary monarchy, the National Assembly has reduced France to slavery! Let us abolish, once and for all, the name and function of king; let us transform the kingdom into a republic! The Cordeliers voted in favor of your proposition, and then you went to the Manège, where a crowd had assembled.