La Marseillaise

A chronicle of facts

that contributed to the fall of the monarchy

14TH JULY 1789

Present arms!

Forward march!

March!

About turn!

Forward march!

Squad, halt!

I would like to speak to His Majesty. Who is his gentleman?

Monsieur de Guéméné.

Announce the Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt.

Good evening, Guéméné.

Kindly inform His Majesty that I am here.

I must warn you, the hunt was keen today.

His Majesty sleeps like Hercules after his labors.

Pray make haste, my dear Guéméné.

- Is it serious? - I believe so.

His Majesty is not asleep. Pray enter.

Good evening, La Rochefoucauld!

I slept, but was aroused by a pang of hunger.

It is this hunting.

We chased a ten-pointed stag, very rare now.

Picard, put the small table on the bed.

My good Guéméné, pour me some wine.

My dear Duke, pass me the chicken.

Picard has placed it beyond reach.

He thinks, because I'm king, I must have long arms!

What is it?

Sire, the Parisians have taken the Bastille.

So it is a revolt?

No, sire, it is a revolution.

A VILLAGE IN PROVENCE JUNE 1790

I saw you.

Pardon a poor wretch, your honor.

I was wrong to kill your pigeons,

but they were eating the only crop I have.

You, there! You are witnesses.

I didn't see anything.

Nobody asked your opinion. Obey!

Take him away.

Case of Anatole Roux, accused of pillage.

You are a habitual offender!

Last year, my men caught you setting snares.

Luckily for you, on land owned by Monsieur Giraud,

mayor of this village, here present.

His misplaced generosity saved you from the gallows.

Count, a man is master of his own domain.

This is a flagrant case.

The pigeon is mine and there are witnesses.

I didn't see anything.

It is my heritage, as squire, to mete out justice.

A thankless privilege,

but it is my duty to exercise it unflinchingly.

Before all else, we serve His Majesty.

Your case is beyond my jurisdiction.

I will refer it to the magistrates.

Come now, Count, you know what they're like.

They've no more heart than a rock,

and no more sense than... an old pot!

With them, it's the gallows.

The gallows for a pigeon. Do you think that just?

The pigeon is immaterial.

It symbolizes the order I must defend.

It seems a pretty skimpy symbol to me.

There's nothing of it when it's plucked.

Once they kill our pigeons, they'll burn our castles.

So you are really defending your feudal rights

rather than the laws of His Majesty?

Both.

Destroy the feudal order which assures your rights,

then you destroy our social structure,

based on respect for divine and natural order.

Of which you, too, are a beneficiary.

A very small beneficiary. I know your tune.

If your privileges disappear, then mine will follow suit.

To keep my little comforts, I must abet your abuses.

You, the great lord, own most of the land here.

I'm an old warrant officer. You think we're interdependent?

I would rather lose everything I possess!

I surrender.

I'll go quietly.

What do you mean? Are you mad?

- Is that a hearth? - Yes.

It's all wrong.

Don't try to tell me how to do it.

I'm a mason, a good one.

I know my trade, ask anyone.

What's the matter with this hearth?

The wind's in the west.

You're no longer in town, you have to think about the wind.

Here's a good one.

Who's that?

I don't know.

- Who are you? - What about you?

We're from Marseilles.

- Fleeing the king's justice? - Not the king's, the aristocrats'.

- Same as me. - We're not criminals.

- Me neither. - We're patriots.

That's enough to put us in jail.

I killed a pigeon. That means the gallows.

You know this area?

I was born in Cadolive, just over the hill.

I know the priest there. He brings food when he can.

- Have you a leather belt? - I have.

It's a present from my mother.

There.

It'll make a good sling. We'll kill plenty of blackbirds.

- Got any string? - What for?

For snaring rabbits. There's plenty about.

- You seem to be quite a hunter. - I know.

That's what the count says, too.

- What's your name? - Jean-Joseph Bomier.

I'm Anatole Roux, but everyone calls me "Chamois."

- And you? - I'm Honoré Arnaud.

Toll clerk from Marseilles.

- Staying with us? - Willingly!

But let's remake that hearth.

Still, it's a good life here.

You want a blackbird? Just use the sling.

You want a hare? Just set a snare.

Understand the ways of Nature. That's the secret of it.

But that's just what makes it so exciting.

The simple life. Why don't we stay here forever?

Don't you want to see your mother again?

Of course I want to.

But think, I spent my life cooped in a house.

Like living in a cupboard. I'm staying here.

And women?

I'm old, I don't care. But you're young.

We could bring a beauty here.

We could easily feed her.

And she could help with the cooking.

It wouldn't be long before you quarreled over her.

If we had everything:

bread, salt, brandy, women, tobacco,

then this place would become a town.

Better to go back to Marseilles, clear it out.

Get rid of the aristocrats,

and profit from our parents' efforts.

Friends!

Here's Paget!

Is that how you keep watch?

Why bother? No one ever comes here.

What have you brought?

All a poor priest can afford. Bread, cheese, tobacco.

It's wonderful bread.

Thank God you're Arnaud's friend.

That's not why he helps us.

I've had enough of starving, too.

Our plight...

would touch even the stones beneath our tattered shoes.

Turn your rabbit, it's scorching.

Who's cooking it, you or me?

You can't talk to him, now he thinks he's a cook.

For a year, my vicarage has been windowless.

But the bishop lives in a palace,

keeps mistresses,

leads a debauched life that shames a servant of Christ.

He's just a lad of 22.

Noble lads aren't like ordinary ones.

Us folk, when we father a child,

we pass on our features or color of hair.

But a nobleman, without further effort,

passes on every imaginable talent,

political, military, ecclesiastic.

Without learning anything, the offspring knows everything.

We priests are like sergeants in the army.

Like sergeants, we have no hope of becoming officers.

I'm glad I'm a widower and my children are dead.

Ordinary folk should refuse to have more children.

Isn't your rabbit cooked now?

I think you're right.

Paget!

- Seen the smoke? - This one?

That's the Château de Bigeor burning over there.

The other place belongs to my bishop's brother.

Children,

the time is ripe for you to return.

We need you.

The aristos must be feeling pretty sick.

I wouldn't like it if my house was burnt.

Would you like ten years in the gallows?

The nobles have taught us bad habits.

They made us cruel in their image.

They're reaping. Reaping what they sowed.

They are like invisible witnesses.

It's not their fault. It's their God-given nature to do evil.

But now we're ready to get rid of them.

I'm sorry now my children are dead.

Because you young ones will build a new life.

Good-bye, my friends.

Whatever you do, stand fast.

- Good-bye, Chamois. - Good-bye, my friend.

Good-bye, Chamois! I won't forget what you taught me.

Give me that. You'll get guns in town.

OCTOBER 1790

Arnaud, of the Young Citizens.

Got your card, Bomier?

What for? Don't you know me?