Charles Jeanne

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This was written for a creative writing course at my university, it does not profess to be historically accurate but is my attempt at exploring a historical person's mind

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Rêves Idéalistes d'un Révolutionnaire

(Idealistic Dreams of a Revolutionary)

It was 1832 in Paris, France. Charles Jeanne sighed as he brushed a stray brown hair from his face. Tracing his hand along the map he muttered to himself “these very streets lined with barricades and the people cheering for freedom.” Sitting back, Jeanne took a sip of his coffee that had a heavy amount of milk in it. The Bible, the Social Contract and Locke’s Second Treatise, all laid open on the other side of the little table, all highlighted with little notes. His head perked up when his friend Benedicte entered the room “what are you working on Charlie?”
“the future.”  Jeanne replied with a smile if it works and I do not fail he silently thought.
“Oh really?” Benedicte looked at the map “so this is where the battle lines will be drawn.”
“Exactly! I can see it now, the people shall follow me and join me in this struggle for liberty and equality.” Charles coughed a hollow ominous cough “having a republic instead of a monarchy has been my dream since I was 14.”
“what happened when you were 14?” Benedicte cocked his head

Charles casted a glance down to the wooden planks “I heard of Napoleon’s death. I was too young to remember Napoleon personally but I shiver upon the thought of him. He took my beloved nation, France and made her an imperialistic superpower crushing our neighbors and stripping them of their self-governance. He trashed our God-given rights and liberties by taking away elected positions of power. The forces of Europe defeated him and threw him into exile, but they put a monarch back on our throne. It was from this moment that I resolved to make France a republic just like America. I know King Louis Philippe is popular with the people, but we need to remember just because he may be a stable king does not mean the principle is right. Who is to stop his successor from being a despot? I made a pledge when I was 14 that I will always support the republic, and this will forever be where I stand.” Charles looked down at the paper on his desk “I dream of a day that the people wake” he muttered. 
Benedicte nodded his head and placed a hand on Charles’ knee “I’m sure they will. But remember, survival instinct and comfort are great forces.”
Charles’ mind wandered to General Lamarque, a great defender of republicanism in the king’s court, Lamarque was ill with cholera. Charles hoped everyday for his recovery. “why yes indeed! Have you heard about the state of General Lamarque?”
Benedicte glanced towards the ground “Well, uhh… last I heard not well.”
Charles shook his head, glancing towards the table where his books lay. Charles swallowed nervously “he is the people’s only defender, without him Louis Philippe will do whatever he pleases. The people are blinded by Louis’ charisma and…”
“Charles, relax. You speak too much. Paris has been seemingly on the verge of rebellion since Napoleon fell. They are quite resentful of a British chosen monarch, however this monarch has not yet done anything wrong.”
“But something has to happen soon! We have been under a monarchy placed into power by England for… ” Charles’ bent over letting out a deep hollow cough
“Charlie my friend, are you alright?”  Benedicte’s eyes widened.

Charles looked up, his light brown hair was soaked with sweat, his green-grey eyes were encircled with a sickly glaze. “I’m fine, I’m sure its just overwork.”

“I insist as a friend you must get it checked, with the cholera epidemic in the city and all.”
“I have practically never been sick in my life, I’m sure it is nothing serious.”
 “as a doctor and a friend I insist that I must take you to my office.”
Charles groaned “I suppose I will give you that permission.”
The following day Charles sat on a table, his eyes wandered to the white walls and down to the wooden planks below. Benedicte sat on the chair and tapped his pen to the paper pad, “your cough, has it produced anything? mucus? blood?”
Charles reached into his pocket and grabbed a handkerchief “blood, as red as my revolutionary flag.”
“Does everything relate to revolution with you?” Benedicte turned and covered his face, “Wait? blood?”.
Charles cocked his head “what is wrong?”
Swallowing deeply, Benedicte attempted to avoid Charles’ gaze “you have Consumption. Not much is known about this disease, but it is chronic. It can last easily for 5 years until it kills you.”
Charles offered a blank stare “so I’m going to die?”
Benedicte shook his head “not if we get the right treatment, you need plenty of rest. Anyway, do you have my money? Have to live on something, you know?” Benedicte chuckled

Charles looked up to the ceiling and sighed “Here you go. I have no time to rest, the fate of Patria depends on me this moment.”
Benedicte placed a hand on Charles’ shoulder “relax for now, General Lamarque is handling the king.”

A few weeks later, an ominous silence pervaded the streets of Paris. The people were silent as they normally were not. Charles looked on puzzled well, I had a couple weeks of rest and solitude. Now it seems I can barely recognize my own city.  Charles’ disease lay dormant, but it threatened to attack if he overworked himself. Charles creaked open the door to his friend’s apartment “citizen?”
Benedicte lifted a tear-stained face “he is dead.”

Charles cocked his head “he?”
Benedicte buried his face in his hands “Lamarque!”
Charles’ eyes widened “General Lamarque, the voice of the people.” he bit his lip, “please, tell me its not true.” Charles’ picked up the newspaper and his eyes teared up at the sight “No! He was the only decent advisor the king had! We must do something- perhaps protest at his funeral June 5^th?”

Charles grunted “I wish the people would realize what a bad situation this is.”
Benedicte shook his head “most of them just want to survive. You would be amazed how powerful the survival instinct is. Have you ever spoke to a member of ‘the people’ as you call them?”
Charles smiled “well, I care about them. But I believe in focusing on the big picture of what is happening to them, right? Of course we will win if we have the right ideas.”
“Charles, the people want to know that you care about them. This is why Louis has so much popularity, his men go directly out to the people and speak to them.”
“but all his men do is lie to the people! They promise governmental help yet leave the people more enslaved to their poverty. It is wrong!” Charles snapped.
“what is wrong?”
“the whole principle of a monarchy! Louis may portray himself as caring about the people but kings by nature are inherently crooked as they are exercising power that should only belong to God. We need a republic!”
Benedicte arose “Why do we need a republic? Go out there and give me proof that the king is actually oppressing the people and come back later. If you do not connect with the people and continue to live in the theory world, your revolution will fail.”
Charles shook his head “I do not understand, I care about the people. But currently it is the big ideas that are at stake, governmental power!”
“and this Charles is where your downfall will be if you do not connect with the members of the populace.”

Later that night, Charles walked down the dark candle-lit streets of Paris. As he crossed the cobbled street he heard sobbing. Turning his head Charles noticed a little blonde haired girl.
“Bonjour, are you well?” Charles tipped his hat to her.
The girl looked up “my father- where did they take him?”
“your father?”
“The police they took him!”
“Why?”
“He was distributing papers calling the king a bad man.”
Charles looked into the little girl’s eyes “where do you live? it is not safe for you to be out here.”
the little girl nervously took his hand “Montparnasse.”
Charles’ eyes widened Montparnasse? This little girl lives in the worse area of Paris. No way am I going to head over there!
“what is your name?”
“Elisabeth.” the girl’s blond hair was streaked with dirt and blood, her ribs showed through her skin, Charles never saw any sight like this in his life.  Charles bit his lip perhaps I will this once
Grasping Elisabeth’s tiny hand, Charles followed her. The dank hunts dotted the cityscape, the people wore newspapers on their feet as shoes. Hundreds of stick-like people eyed Charles’ in his fine red overcoat and neatly tied black cravat. Their eyes were hollow, and their stomachs yearned for bread.
“In here” Elisabeth pointed to a small wooden shack.
“Where is your mom?”
Elisabeth looked down “she died. Consump..” she stopped and looked over to the empty bed

“Consumption?” Charles casted an understanding glance
Elisabeth nodded slowly and looked down.
“How do you get by?”
“My daddy provided for me.”
Charles knelt to pick up a paper on the floor, he began to read; Order from His Majesty King Louis Philippe of France. Any discussion against His Majesty is now considered high treason. The reason being is the revolts throughout Europe are causing instability in nations. Any citizen caught discussing insurrection would be punished by order of the king.
Charles hands trembled as he outlined the red seal “this is real.” Elisabeth’s eyes watered, Charles bent down to embrace her. It was an awkward, stiff embrace but the revolutionary began to cry. “Mademoiselle, rest well.” Charles tipped his flat worker’s hat and smiled.
“Monsieur? are you an angel?” Elisabeth’s blue eyes looked up
“I’m not, but we shall turn around the course of France.” Charles looked to a cross on the wall as he left.

That night Charles sat at his polished desk. His hands were black with ink spots, a cup of raspberry tea sat by his side. “Elisabeth” he muttered, this struggle has become more real to me than ever. My whole life I have been consumed by one idea- the liberty of my Patria from tyranny. This was always so abstract and so vague, but I have seen something tonight with my own eyes- a little girl starving because her father was arrested for speaking out against the king.  Charles leaned forward who shall lead this revolution? It seems to be the only way to respond against such blatant tyranny. I have been planning for a possible revolution for a while, am I ready? Of course I’am, after all I have been doing this research for years. For sure the funeral of General Lamarque will be where it all begins! Anyway, its time for some rest. Closing his eyes, Charles drifted off for the night to dreamland.
Shouting everywhere. Charles was standing before the royal court, a Bible was clutched between his hands as he stood before the court “Christ commands me to speak!”
“Silence! your sentience is death at the stake!”

his mind jumped to another scene  “you must stop spending!”shouted Charles guards came from his left and threw him into the Bastille, which was torn down years ago. On the walls of the Bastille was sketched a phrase ‘if you lose, you may still yet inspire a torch of liberty.’

Charles bolted straight up “No! I’m ready for many things but failure is not one of them!” he shouted to the darkness. Breathing in “it is just a dream” Charles shook his head. He closed his eyes and rolled over, but sleep did not return. How silly of me, that dream probably meant nothing. Oh sleep! Come back to me. Alright, be that way. You know I’ve been rejected from many things in my life, my dream university, my views have been disregarded as crazy, I was never smart enough in school to make the honor roll. Charles looked back towards the worn Bible on his shelf, he was a descendent of French Protestants who were burned alive for their beliefs, and an early revolutionary in the 1760s who was shot for his beliefs. These stories were passed down to Charles by his parents and grandparents. Charles reached for the Bible “perhaps this will calm me. Reading always does.” flipping through the cover he saw an inscription inside the front page “to Charlie, be forever thankful that now you have the ability to read this Bible without fear of death. May France forever remain free- Papa.” Charles’ eyes watered “Oh papa, how I miss you.”  a letter flopped out of the Bible and landed on the floor, Charles picked it up 1821 I Charles Jeanne, pledge to forever fight injustice whenever I see it. He penned this note as a teenager after reading about Napoleon. Charles’ eyes widened “I doubt Louis will actually get worse, or will he? I guess I will just have to wait and see. Oh how I wish we were a republic so the people can elect their ruler.”

That same morning, something was happening in the king’s court. Louis Philippe turned to his advisor Jacques Pelert “Your majesty, I have found out the source of what has been stirring up so much discontent throughout the continent lately, and you know how you and I both value peace and stability.”

The king turned his head “Yes, please go on. We must ensue that France stays peaceful and does not catch Poland’s rebellious disease. ”

“Your majesty, the source of what started the American Revolution seems to be the Bible and other revolutionary documents, likewise the first French Revolution started because again- the printing press started spreading ideas. It is wise to sign a decree limiting the presses, perhaps with less harmful materials spreading we can assert peace and stability.”
The king nodded “very well, I like this idea. Peace has to be achieved and we cannot have a rebellion.” he signed the decree.

That evening Charles was strolling through the city square, he noticed something new nailed to a tree, coming in closer Charles began to read A Decree from Louis Philippe. Printing companies can only print books beneficial to the King and His service. All other works shall be banned, this is to ensue peace and stability in France as not to become like those fools in America, the German States and Poland. Charles clutched his fists, his heart beat as fast as the crowds on the street, swaying over Charles caught himself on a chair.
“Monsieur?” Elisabeth was behind him “are you alright?”
Charles looked down “can you read?”
“No, no one can.” Elisabeth frowned

“What do you mean?”
“I never found nobody who could read. Except my papa.”
Charles looked down to her tethered dress, so different from his own upper-class upbringing.
“Elisabeth, do this for me. Tell as many people as you can that they must meet me at this tree tonight.” General Lamarque’s funeral is tonight and there shall be plenty of likeminded republicans ready to start a revolution all standing together outside this spot ready to fight.
Elisabeth nodded her head “Yes! do I get me some money?”
Swallowing hard, Charles pulled a piece of silver out of his pocket “yes mademoiselle. Now go!”
“Citizens!” Charles leaped to a table “Tonight we must fight! The king just censored numerous works of literature, this is an infringement on our personal liberty. We must go to the barricades like we did in 1830!” 
That night, barricades arose. They did two years ago and citizens of Paris were always ready for a rebellion. Republicans such as Charles were planning another revolution for years in hopes to bring about a republic but they needed the perfect time. General Lamarque’s funeral seemed to be a good time to remind the people of their need for a republic.

As he stood upon a quickly assembled barricade, Charles’ eyes widened the revolutionaries were outnumbered.

“What is your command?” a ragged man asked.

Charles turned his head should I surrender? I may fail, just like all my endeavors seem to do.  Elisabeth then passed through his mind. No, we cannot surrender. I’m fighting for real people. I’m fighting for the future.
“Fire!” Charles’ loud voice pierced through the night “our time has come! the people’s time has arrived!” The crowds cheered, and artillery began to pound on the side of the barricade. After 10 hours of fighting, Charles felt a searing pain through his back, turning around he stumbled down the side of the barricade.

The following day Charles awoke, tearing off his sheets and tossing his body “I must go back! my men!”
“Shh.. if you leave now you will expose your hiding spot.” the woman explained
“my what?”
The woman lowered her head, “I’m sorry. But you must lay low.”
“Lay what? Sorry but I do not know the meaning of those words!” Charles coughed my Consumption, its back.  At that moment police stormed through the door “Mr. Charles Jeanne, you are under arrest for leading a rebellion.” Charles was silent.

Five years later.
Charles sat up on his cot, still in prison shackled and worn. A girl entered the cell “Mr. Jeanne? I’m Elisabeth, the girl you were kind to so many years ago. My father was released from prison, and has been taking care of me again. Your ideas are becoming popular again with the people, they are reading about philosophies and the king has repealed his decree! although you lost- your failure seems to have inspired people to learn more about republicanism. Are you well?”
Charles coughed blood into his handkerchief “Not really, I have been rather sickly lately. Pray for me? This whole thing failed. I have failed.”
Elisabeth knelt by his side, “it will be fine.”
Charles shook his head “the man who turned me in was an old friend of mine Benedicte- the police threaten to burn his house and kill him if he did not report me. I found this out a year ago, and am still torn. He told me what a motivating force survival is, I do not understand why people can be so cruel.”

Elisabeth reached for Charles and offered him a hug “just like the one you gave me when I was suffering.”
Charles embraced her, “I’m counting on the people of Paris to rise again one day, and perhaps our suffering will end!”
Elisabeth reached into her bag “My father taught me to read! So I was reading the ‘Social Contract’ and have been inspired by you ever since that night you were kind to me. Thank you monsieur!”

The following week Elisabeth opened the newspaper “Revolution Leader Charles Jeanne dead of Consumption.” A crushing weight fell upon her “Charles! Why is this world so unfair? The people will carry your torch, I shall carry your torch.” She held the newspaper close to her heart as a tear streamed down her face “from heaven you shall see your republic’s victory, I hope you know how much your life and death inspired France for the king repealed his ‘no publishing’ decree, and people like me are now reading books we would have never been able to before. Change is coming Charlie, I wish you could have realized that you are not a failure.”