Chapter 247: Deciding Influence by Uproar
Rolle, the Duke of Durfort's nephew, slammed his hand down on the armrest of his chair, glaring at the crestfallen nobles before him. "Complaining here won't do us any good!"
He pointed towards the liberal nobles assembling in the square outside the window. "We cannot allow those people to shatter our ancient traditions, or to mislead Her Majesty the Queen!
"We must fight them to ensure our birthrights are not undermined!"
He rose, gesturing. "Don't be cowards. Come with me to Her Majesty the Queen; she will hear us out."
Since their own interests were at stake, more than a dozen individuals immediately rose to their feet. "Yes, Her Majesty will settle this for us!"
"We cannot permit these young upstarts to cause such a ruckus!"
"Come on, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind..."
Rolle led the way out of the banquet hall, heading downstairs, with many Old Nobility following closely behind him.
By the time they reached the Marble Courtyard, a crowd of three to four hundred had already assembled.
"You are nobles yourselves, so why do you desecrate the honor of our class?"
The young man speaking beside the lion-head statue on the palace wall loudly retorted, "Corrupt privileges should have been abolished long ago!"
"What nonsense are you spouting? Do you expect nobles to be satisfied with being like the Sans-culottes on the streets?"
"Nobles are already too comfortable as it is. Go look at the plight of the poor farmers..."
"Their poverty stems from laziness and ignorance. What does that have to do with us..."
"It is precisely *your* group that is lazy and foolish!"
"You dare insult me! I challenge you to a duel!"
"Then come on!"
Before long, the heated debate devolved into a barrage of insults, swiftly escalating into physical altercations.
Neither side was willing to back down, and they started rallying more people. The skirmish gradually moved from the confined Marble Courtyard to the wider Versailles Palace Square.
Soon, the numbers on both sides exceeded a thousand, and they continued to grow.
While the Guards' intervention prevented any serious bloodshed, the cacophony of shouts and curses reverberated throughout the entire Palace of Versailles. Some individuals, mimicking commoners, even began pelting each other with rotten vegetables and clumps of dirt.
Joseph stood by the floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor of the South Wing, observing the distinctly French "battle" unfolding in the square with keen interest.
If such an uproar occurred in Russia or Prussia, the King would have swiftly dispatched guards to disperse both sides and thrown the instigators into prison. Yet, at Versailles, this was merely considered normal political activity.
Eman drew closer, gazing out the window. "Your Highness, it seems our side isn't holding the advantage."
As the Crown Prince's closest aide, he was naturally privy to the intricacies of the situation.
Joseph offered a slight smile. "Don't fret, Monsieur Mirabeau's main force hasn't arrived yet."
"Main force?"
Eman's confusion was swiftly dispelled. As carriages began to halt at the periphery of the Versailles Palace Square, large numbers of impeccably dressed individuals—though without the elaborate adornments of the Versailles nobility—poured into the square. Guided by a dozen young people, they quickly swelled the ranks of the liberal nobles.
Joseph accepted the teacup Eman offered him, gesturing towards the newly arrived. "You see, everyone seems to have forgotten that the Nobles of the Robe are still nobles."
The so-called "Nobles of the Robe" referred to those who had purchased their noble titles, while the corresponding hereditary nobles were called "Nobles of the Sword."
The former had always been scorned by the latter, often labeled as 'nouveaux riches.' Furthermore, the vast majority of them were not permitted to reside within the Palace of Versailles. Consequently, they rarely had the chance to participate in the "collective political activities" that occurred there.
While others might have overlooked them, Joseph certainly hadn't. Historically, this very group formed the core backbone of the French Revolution, and their combat effectiveness was undeniable.
Thus, over half a month prior, he had tasked Mirabeau with mobilizing the Nobles of the Robe, instructing them to be ready to reinforce the confrontation at Versailles at a moment's notice.
In just over an hour, the "contingent" of liberal nobles had swelled to two or three times the size of the opposing faction, with more individuals continuously arriving to join.
Furthermore, most of these Nobles of the Robe possessed experience in law and commerce. Consequently, their eloquence and physical nimbleness far outstripped that of the gentlemen residing in the Palace of Versailles.
The tide of battle instantly turned. The Old Nobility were steadily pushed back, eventually cornered in the Marble Courtyard, where they precariously resisted against the Palace of Versailles walls, their momentum steadily waning.
Finally, after Rolle was struck on the forehead by a clod of earth and grimaced his way out of the fray, the Old Nobility began to disperse.
Another half hour later, only the liberal nobles remained in the square. They cheered excitedly, surrounding several leading nobles and surging towards the Petit Trianon to convey their full support for Viscount Chantal's proposal to Her Majesty.
Such was France's political tradition: deciding influence through public uproar. The Great French Revolution had repeatedly demonstrated this very principle.
Clearly, the Old Nobility had been utterly defeated in this battle.
Of course, this situation had only unfolded due to Joseph's deliberate permissiveness. Had the tide turned unfavorably, he would have instantly mobilized the Royal Guards to disperse the assembled nobles.
He wouldn't be as easily swayed as Louis XVI and Marie.
In reality, despite the nobles' boisterous display, merely a few hundred guards would be enough to send them quietly home.
Outside the main gates of the Petit Trianon, Marie was astonished by the sheer number of people supporting the abolition of noble privileges. She promptly declared publicly that she would approve the proposal and formalize it into law as swiftly as possible.
The crowd immediately erupted in cheers, then bowed and began acclaiming the Queen. Exaggerated praise such as "savior from suffering," "angelic mercy," and "the people will forever remember your grace" practically drowned her.
That evening, on the second floor of the Palace of Versailles, in the Duke of Mouchy's drawing-room, over a dozen prominent nobles were engaged in a somber discussion.
"They actually brought so many low-born individuals to the Palace of Versailles to stir up trouble!"
"But Her Majesty the Queen seems to have promised them to abolish the traditional rights of the nobility."
"Their force is overwhelming; even Her Majesty cannot withstand such pressure..."
While these prominent figures wouldn't directly participate in such daytime petitions and confrontations, they were, nevertheless, constantly monitoring the unfolding situation.
A middle-aged noble declared, "We must gather more people to stabilize the situation!"
"Precisely! I can return to my estate and rouse the local nobility..."
The Duke of Durfort, however, pondered the matter, then shook his head. "No, it will be challenging for us to outnumber those Liberals. They need only deliver a speech in the streets to rally thousands."
"Then what do you propose?"
"We must leverage our inherent advantages." The Duke of Durfort surveyed the group. "Though our numbers may be fewer, we possess far greater influence within the Palace of Versailles."
"Those people can only petition in the square, while our letters will appear on the Queen's desk, and we can even go directly to her tea room to offer our counsel in person!"
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