((Another note on the cultural update; because I am doing it as a post-mortem of the update, feel free to continue to write works until the deadline, and leave the receptions blank, as I'll fill that in.))
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Indemnification Law: Non
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Non
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Liberal]
[Avant la lettre: +1PP]
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Non
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Liberal]
[Avant la lettre: +1PP]
The Comte attends his first French social gathering for years and accepts the duel. He picks pistols with real ammunition and a young and snappy Officer from the Young Franks as his second. He suggests the duel takes place in Calais, so in the case of his death he can lay to rest in the same place as his father, or in the more likely case of the death of his opponent they can easily throw his carcass into the sea. While appearing cocky and sure of himself, making many remarks about the intricate details of the Countess, he secretly modifies his will to leave all his wealth and his new journal to be managed by the Young Franks.
Indemnification Law: Non
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Doctrinnaire]
[No Bonus]
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Doctrinnaire]
[No Bonus]
((Private letter to @baboushreturns ))
General,
How is the cause for Greek liberty going? I wish I could follow in your footsteps, and your lead, but I'm tied to my station. Hopefully the French Army may soon intervene on the side of the Greeks. If not for the cause of liberty, at the very least for the cause of Christendom which the government claim to champion.
There is no secret you're a man of great reputation at home. A symbol of a champion for both the poor and liberty. That's why I ask of you to use your contacts at home among intellectuals, papers and deputies to stand in opposition to the ultra reactionary laws proposed by the government.
I also ask you of when you come home? But perhaps it is best you stay in Greece and use your contacts in France to do your bidding. As such your legend will only grow and strengthen your status as a champion of the left.
Chef de bataillon Lothaire Lécuyer.
General,
How is the cause for Greek liberty going? I wish I could follow in your footsteps, and your lead, but I'm tied to my station. Hopefully the French Army may soon intervene on the side of the Greeks. If not for the cause of liberty, at the very least for the cause of Christendom which the government claim to champion.
There is no secret you're a man of great reputation at home. A symbol of a champion for both the poor and liberty. That's why I ask of you to use your contacts at home among intellectuals, papers and deputies to stand in opposition to the ultra reactionary laws proposed by the government.
I also ask you of when you come home? But perhaps it is best you stay in Greece and use your contacts in France to do your bidding. As such your legend will only grow and strengthen your status as a champion of the left.
Chef de bataillon Lothaire Lécuyer.
Indemnification Law: Oui
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Oui
Law on the Protection of the Church: Oui
[Ultraroyaliste]
[What is a half PP bonus? +1.5PP]
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Oui
Law on the Protection of the Church: Oui
[Ultraroyaliste]
[What is a half PP bonus? +1.5PP]
Reims
1825
Pt. 3
The Comte de L'Isle Jourdain banged on the door of Catherine's house. When she arrived at the door, she was stunned to see him. "Shouldn't you be halfway to Calais by now?" She asked.
"Come with me." Asked the Comte
"I'm sorry..."
"Come with me to Calais madame. If this duel is to be the death of me, let me spend my last hours with someone that has enraptured me." Said the Comte holding Catherine's hand.
"You want me to travel north? What of my father?"
"I have already paid for a caretaker to watch over him. Please madame..."
Catherine was stunned by all this. Was the Comte asking her hand for a relationship, or did he value her advice that much?
"I..." stuttered Catherine.
"If you do not wish to come, I understand." Said the Comte.
"I... don't know what to say to all of this..."
"Catherine, your beauty and intellect has amazed me since we first met. Please, let me spend time with a woman who I have affection for." Said the Comte.
Catherine thought about this for a moment. This man had feelings for her. What was she to do? After stewing for a moment, she gave her answer. "I will come with you, your grace."
1825
Pt. 3
The Comte de L'Isle Jourdain banged on the door of Catherine's house. When she arrived at the door, she was stunned to see him. "Shouldn't you be halfway to Calais by now?" She asked.
"Come with me." Asked the Comte
"I'm sorry..."
"Come with me to Calais madame. If this duel is to be the death of me, let me spend my last hours with someone that has enraptured me." Said the Comte holding Catherine's hand.
"You want me to travel north? What of my father?"
"I have already paid for a caretaker to watch over him. Please madame..."
Catherine was stunned by all this. Was the Comte asking her hand for a relationship, or did he value her advice that much?
"I..." stuttered Catherine.
"If you do not wish to come, I understand." Said the Comte.
"I... don't know what to say to all of this..."
"Catherine, your beauty and intellect has amazed me since we first met. Please, let me spend time with a woman who I have affection for." Said the Comte.
Catherine thought about this for a moment. This man had feelings for her. What was she to do? After stewing for a moment, she gave her answer. "I will come with you, your grace."
To Nathanaël Barrande, Comte de L'Isle Jourdain ((@naxhi24 – Private))
Monsieur le Comte,
It would be a pleasure for me to assist you in this affair of honor.
I most faithfully remain,
SAINT-AIGNAN
A shadowy figure appeared at the side of Saint-Germain.
'He's on his way.'
'He's actually coming here? Curious.'
'He's bringing a woman with him.'
'You'd think that would be the last thing he would do, given how we got here.'
'He's not the brightest, Sir.'
'No, that is true. Make sure the judge is local and susceptible to large gifts.'
'Five thousand, Sir?'
'This is my life, have some respect, seven-point-five.'
'He's on his way.'
'He's actually coming here? Curious.'
'He's bringing a woman with him.'
'You'd think that would be the last thing he would do, given how we got here.'
'He's not the brightest, Sir.'
'No, that is true. Make sure the judge is local and susceptible to large gifts.'
'Five thousand, Sir?'
'This is my life, have some respect, seven-point-five.'
((Private: Fingon))
Honorable Lord Fulgent,
Having responded in print to your brilliant work of apologetics which you published in La Journal des Debats, I feel I owe you a personal and private response in more specific reference to your article. Never before has a work from the camp of St. Aignan and his esteeme colleagues so struck at my very soul and motivated such a passionate response as I am not, in my own nature, usually want to do.
I have had, in the course of my as of yet largely unaccomplished life, little use for philosophy. I have little in the way of Latin or Greek; my father always believed sums and the vernacular tongues of our largest trading partners in Britain and the Germanies were more important to a merchant than the sum body of Western civilization. So please believe me when I say that I approach the matter of the Enlightenment without any sort of schoolboy preciousness. It is without the prejudice of long dead Greeks or England's John Locke weighing upon me that I can say for a matter of absolute moral certainty that the bonds of any society are indeed arbitrary.
But that does not mean that they are created by men. To put it in a way you might appreciate, when men make plans, God laughs. But this defiance of our futile squawks of free will does not entail the existence in this temporary mortal life of a divinely mandated utopian social order. As Hobbes would have it life is nasty, brutish, and short. If the Saint Domingue expedition achieved any useful purpose at all, it was to demonstrate how Générale Maladie laughs at the vanity of men to think that their brilliance and bravery on the battlefield matters in the face of the as of yet largely ineffable machinations of nature. The finest armies in Europe can be brought low by a mosquito. Any man who thinks he matters should examine that fact.
In that spirit, I appreciate your sentiment of wishing to humble the thinkers of France who bubbled up forth from the Revolution, and to put to rest the illusion of control that the modern man thinks he possesses over nature. I even agree that God's perfect control of nature does serve a higher plan, but that plan is ultimately for the next world, after all, and it would be arrogance nearly unto blasphemy to believe that in the greater scheme of Heaven and Hell that our individual lives and the age we live in truly matter.
God's universe is large enough to encompass our failings, our hypocrisies, and so it is up to mankind to create a social order suited to the times we live in. The fact that it is temporary, that it can never last, is what makes it important. We must adapt or die, just as a leader of men must on the battlefield. And as a leader of men, you must know that nothing is more detrimental to the social fabric of order and hierarchy than giving an order that will not be followed. It is important to drill men in such a way that they will follow your orders unconditionally, but it even more important to be able to read your men and know what orders they will not follow. And it is the duty of leaders to not issue such orders, for once one order has been ignored, those which would have previously been obeyed without question become more easily dismissed. Once a man has ignored one order, he will invariably ignore more.
And so I must caution you, personally and without concern for political theater, against the current course that the Council of State under the Duc de Sully has embarked upon. By attempting to be faithful to the King's heartfelt religious convictions, you are purchasing his goodwill as the cost of the very social order the well-being of the nation rests upon. The law on sacrilege cannot be enforced in the France that currently exists without sparking a revolution. And the France that exists cannot be undone without destroying or imprisoning countless souls. And to insist upon a law that cannot be enforced is to give an order that will not be obeyed, opening the door of sedition and rebellion wide open.
I pray that you will take these practical considerations in mind, if not as a Minister than as a military man.
If you feel that I have only addressed the first point of your article and the subsequent points, I would be honored to continue this correspondence.
Faithfully,
- Monsieur Thibaut Duval, Former Deputy For Bouches du Rhone
Calais.1825. Before the duel.
The owner of the "The Crown of St. Louis", Monsieur Olivier Tomais, had already put on a nightcap and was ready to retire when a hired fiacre stopped at his door. From the carriage first came a bulky servant, with a low forehead and thick eyebrows, and dragged a large bag into the lobby. Soon after him his master came in, and advanced the desk of the concierge, currently occupied by the innkeeper himself.
Monsieur Tomais, taking off the unseemly headgear, gave his fat face an expression of servility. At the same time, he scrutinized the guest with his small beady eyes. Years in the profession taught him to judge the monetary situation of each visitor by appearance. But now he was confused.
Before him stood a tall man, dressed like a small bourgeois. A worn frock coat, a hat with a wide brim, a scarf and a high collar. However, his gestures and expressions inspired respect. They seemed to be in contrast to his modest costume.
"Me and my servant need an ordinary room, for three days." - after a minute of silence the man started talking. He had a hoarse authoritative baritone - the voice of a person accustomed to giving commands.
"Of course, monsieur. May I write down your name and profession? " - asked Olivier Tomais, taking a large, dusty book from the desk. Opening it on the right page, he took a quill and glanced at the guest, met with a gaze of his surprisingly cold eyes. "These are the rules. We must write all visitors down. "- he added, as if justifying himself.
"Very well. My name is ... Etienne Debarry, from Normandy. I am trading in sweets and fruit." - the man finally answered. Then he shrugged impatiently. "Well, can you take me to my room already?"
The innkeeper once again looked at the stranger. His gaze for a moment stopped on his hands. The man had strong well-groomed fingers. Not a fingers of the grocer. "Yes, of course, monsieur, in a minute." Taking a bunch of keys from the table, Tomais led "Debarry" and his servant down a long corridor, while still talking. "Were you in the army, sir?"
Here the "merchant" slightly frowned. "Why do you think so?" - his hand instinctively dropped to his hip - as if groping for the hilt of a sword. "Oh, your bearing, sir! You have the appearance of an officer! "- exclaimed the owner of " The Crown of St. Louis ", stopping near one of the doors. Putting the key into the keyhole, he continued to chatter "I myself am a retired soldier! Served in the regiment of dragoons de Reina, a former corporal. Yes, yes, served under the Emperor, and smelt some gunpowder in Italy!" Then the innkeeper noticed that with the word "Emperor " made the guest frown disapprovingly- and quickly added "But I'm a good royalist, God save our good King Charles!"
"Oh." - "Monsieur Debarry" said doubtfully, and then graciously nodded his head: "You're right, I'm a former captain of cavalry." All three of them came into the room - and Olivier lit the candles, and then rang the bell, calling for the maid to make it up the beds. "Would you like a snack? I'll wake the cook "- he asked, while the master and servant made themselves comfortable.
"Yes, I would not refuse a capon and a bottle of Burgundy wine. Also,... "- the stranger put a big tip into the hand of the innkeeper – which he accepted quite readily. "You will be generously paid, very generously. But there are two conditions - firstly, you will not talk about me and my affairs. And secondly - when one man asks for me, you will immediately take him to me. Is that clear?"
Coming back down and yawning with drowsiness, the innkeeper counted the money quite gladly- and did not cease to wonder who his mysterious guest was.
The owner of the "The Crown of St. Louis", Monsieur Olivier Tomais, had already put on a nightcap and was ready to retire when a hired fiacre stopped at his door. From the carriage first came a bulky servant, with a low forehead and thick eyebrows, and dragged a large bag into the lobby. Soon after him his master came in, and advanced the desk of the concierge, currently occupied by the innkeeper himself.
Monsieur Tomais, taking off the unseemly headgear, gave his fat face an expression of servility. At the same time, he scrutinized the guest with his small beady eyes. Years in the profession taught him to judge the monetary situation of each visitor by appearance. But now he was confused.
Before him stood a tall man, dressed like a small bourgeois. A worn frock coat, a hat with a wide brim, a scarf and a high collar. However, his gestures and expressions inspired respect. They seemed to be in contrast to his modest costume.
"Me and my servant need an ordinary room, for three days." - after a minute of silence the man started talking. He had a hoarse authoritative baritone - the voice of a person accustomed to giving commands.
"Of course, monsieur. May I write down your name and profession? " - asked Olivier Tomais, taking a large, dusty book from the desk. Opening it on the right page, he took a quill and glanced at the guest, met with a gaze of his surprisingly cold eyes. "These are the rules. We must write all visitors down. "- he added, as if justifying himself.
"Very well. My name is ... Etienne Debarry, from Normandy. I am trading in sweets and fruit." - the man finally answered. Then he shrugged impatiently. "Well, can you take me to my room already?"
The innkeeper once again looked at the stranger. His gaze for a moment stopped on his hands. The man had strong well-groomed fingers. Not a fingers of the grocer. "Yes, of course, monsieur, in a minute." Taking a bunch of keys from the table, Tomais led "Debarry" and his servant down a long corridor, while still talking. "Were you in the army, sir?"
Here the "merchant" slightly frowned. "Why do you think so?" - his hand instinctively dropped to his hip - as if groping for the hilt of a sword. "Oh, your bearing, sir! You have the appearance of an officer! "- exclaimed the owner of " The Crown of St. Louis ", stopping near one of the doors. Putting the key into the keyhole, he continued to chatter "I myself am a retired soldier! Served in the regiment of dragoons de Reina, a former corporal. Yes, yes, served under the Emperor, and smelt some gunpowder in Italy!" Then the innkeeper noticed that with the word "Emperor " made the guest frown disapprovingly- and quickly added "But I'm a good royalist, God save our good King Charles!"
"Oh." - "Monsieur Debarry" said doubtfully, and then graciously nodded his head: "You're right, I'm a former captain of cavalry." All three of them came into the room - and Olivier lit the candles, and then rang the bell, calling for the maid to make it up the beds. "Would you like a snack? I'll wake the cook "- he asked, while the master and servant made themselves comfortable.
"Yes, I would not refuse a capon and a bottle of Burgundy wine. Also,... "- the stranger put a big tip into the hand of the innkeeper – which he accepted quite readily. "You will be generously paid, very generously. But there are two conditions - firstly, you will not talk about me and my affairs. And secondly - when one man asks for me, you will immediately take him to me. Is that clear?"
Coming back down and yawning with drowsiness, the innkeeper counted the money quite gladly- and did not cease to wonder who his mysterious guest was.
Indemnification Law: Abstention
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Oui
Law on the Protection of the Church: Abstention
[Ultraroyalist]
[Participation Award: + .5 PP]
- Bon-Adrien Jeannot de Moncey, Maréchal d'France
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Oui
Law on the Protection of the Church: Abstention
[Ultraroyalist]
[Participation Award: + .5 PP]
- Bon-Adrien Jeannot de Moncey, Maréchal d'France
Indemnification Law: Non
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Doctrinaire (Liberal)]
[Les Orleanistes: +2 PP]
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Oui
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Doctrinaire (Liberal)]
[Les Orleanistes: +2 PP]
Indemnification Law: Non
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Non
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Writer]
[Republican/Socialist]
[None]
- Roger "Filanchi" Disney
Law of the Holiday of the Martyrdom: Non
Law of the Standardization of Succession: Non
Law on the Protection of the Church: Non
[Writer]
[Republican/Socialist]
[None]
- Roger "Filanchi" Disney
((Slight change of plans; the update will be in two parts; the political update and the cultural update. So they shall come together. The cultural update in this turn I deemed to be especially important, so I thought it would be better to include it as an actual chapter.))
Château d’Écouen, France
Estate of the Prince of Condé
((Joint IC with @Eid3r and @Sneakyflaps))
The Marquise of Armentières had dreaded that day for about a week, ever since she had been informed by her betrothed that they were to visit his father, the Prince of Condé. Nervous through the last few days, she was not quite sure what to expect of such a prestigious and powerful man, who seem to have the most strained relationship with his son. She had good reasons for her worry, for she knew quite well that many betrothal had floundered for cause of a bad first impression.
She had selected for that day a delicate toilette, in tones of white and crème, her dress very flowing to give this countryside appearance which would match perfectly with the scenery. As she rode from Paris to Écouen, she almost bit her nails to evacuate stress, but discipline triumphed. She was joined by her betrothed almost a league off Écouen, who looked quite dashing on his horse. As he trotted at the height of the carriage, they exchanged pleasantries at first, and discussed:
“I must admit, my dearest, that I am quite nervous about your father’s reaction. I do hope he shall not find me too provincial for his liking.”
M. de Bourbon, for his part, had chosen his ‘regular’ dress uniform, suitable for riding and situations of moderate formality. It remained immaculate and dashing primarily due to the constant exertions of his faithful Breton manservant, as well as Henri’s own habitual neatness. It was also relatively comfortable, as it lacked most of the elaborate braiding and other embellishments that added stiffness, heat, and weight.
He turned to regard his lovely fiancee, inclining his head and giving her a seated bow with a flourish, reminiscent of their first meeting and now very much a private joke on their part.
“Dear, no one could find you so. I’ve never seen any flower bloom quite so brightly or so quickly in Paris as you.”
The young Marquis smiled widely at the remarks, quite happy that he prospective husband be a most skilled men in the art of flattery, a fact which embellished any day of the week.
“You are quite generous in your praise, my dearest, but I shall remain nervous, for while I esteem to have quite charmed you, it remains that your father’s approval of me is quite necessary for our future.”
Henri indicated that this was so with a tilt of his hand, gracefully conceding the point.
“Simply remember that for all his titles, my lord father remains a man, and like all men he is helpless before charm and wit wielded by beauty.”
That last comment was greeted by a frank laugh, before the Marquise replied: “Then, shall I dare say, we should be able to get this situation under control. After all, what ill would befall us?”
Henri just sighs, looking forward to the chateau with little anticipation.
Meanwhile, at Écouen…
”A prayer, Louis?” Sophia asked. She herself had looked forward to meeting the eldest son of Condé once more, they hadn’t seen each other for years, and in truth she had little wish that this meeting became a success. The best thing to come out of this evening would be if Henri was to leave in anger with what little remained between Condé and Henri shattered. The biggest obstacle to her son’s inheritance. If it shattered, Philippe would inherit all, her future would be secure regardless of her husband and she could use her son to ensure her own social standing.
“I find that a prayer often helps before speaking with my son.” Condé replied as he stood up and his valet began helping him with his clothes. Condé himself didn’t expect much from this, by now he had become quite aware that his son would not waste a chance to blame him for his failings, and worse yet, would take every chance to mock him. Though all the same, Henri had actually managed to get betrothed, and to a noble no less, surely he must be able to behave at times. “Where is Philippe?”
“Out riding once again, like he always is when he isn’t studying.” Sophia responded as she walked over in front of Condé, adjusting his collar slightly before giving him a peck on the cheek, “You look well.”
“Good.” The Prince said as he went out of the room, going downstairs and into the garden, having to look forward to this joy.
As the new couple arrived at Écouen, the Marquise was helped out of the carriage by her betrothed. She glanced at the estate, a little awed and being reminded that very moment that she was about to marry as close to royalty as could be. She quickly ensured that her dress had survived properly the travel, before taking the arm of Monsieur de Bourbon. Her cousin stayed with the carriage, given the propriety of the situation.
Henri dismounted his horse with practiced ease, using his traveling cane to assist in his descent before switching it for his formal cane. Once settled on his feet, he took the Marquise’s arm with a smile, then led her into the Chateau. He seemed entirely at ease in the palatial setting, nodding convivially to the servants who he recognized. With little conscious thought, he leads his betrothed through the hallways; though they are naturally conducted by a servant, he hardly needs the help. Soon enough, the pair arrives in the garden.
Condé and Sophia already sat in the garden, across the small bridge from the Château with their backs towards the palace. The main table had already been prepared, chairs put out for Henri and his fiancee across from Condé and Sophia. The servants standing ready at the side near another table, with various cakes, fruits, wine and other refreshments for them all to indulge themselves in.
Henri came to a stop several steps away from the table, making a courtly little half-bow. His father received a pleasant if somewhat neutral smile, while the one Sophia received at least somewhat more genuine. Now, how to make introductions without a faux pas… ah, of course. A courtesy promotion. “My lord father, my lady, may I introduce my betrothed, Amélie Constance, Marquise of Armentières and Lady of Pisany. Lady Amélie, my lord father, the Prince of Condé, and Lady Sophia Dawes.”
The Marquise proceeded with a proper curtsey, first to the Prince, then to his compagne. She used all her concentration, focus and talent to produce a most amicable face at the mention of la catin, which she performed admirably given that ladies had always resorted to good manners to disguise their thoughts. “Votre Altesse royale, c’est un grand honneur de faire votre connaissance. Madame Dawes.” She curtseyed again, then looking at her promis to engage the conversation.
Henri doesn’t quite sigh, but inclines his head very slightly and leads his betrothed to her seat. Once Amelie and Sophia are in their seats, he nods to his father and takes his own, smoothing out the front of his uniform. “The estate is looking well. Have you been spending much time here of late?”
“I have indeed, the air here is most refreshing, it has a certain freshness and purity, something which Paris lacks as of late.” Condé responded, “But I hear you fare well in it.”
“Ah, well, as you know, the present government does much to keep affairs clouded, but here and there you can find pockets of clean, honest air,” Henri replied, expression amiable.
“Then one must gasp at the pockets.” Condé responded, taking one of his grapes. “Would you or your fiancee wish for anything, Henri?”
Henri inclined his head towards the table. “Wine would be lovely. Maybe not white wine.” Condé nodded as the servants brought forward the wine. The Marquise chuckled a moment, covering her laugh by a small coughing, thus camouflaging a nascent smile under the cloth she moved to her mouth as both Sophia and Condé raised an eyebrow.
As the dinner progressed, the Marquise had the occasion to chat amicably with the Countess of L’Isle-Jourdain, a feat rendered the more epic by the incredible gossip following her and tainting her reputation, spreading from the very top of society. “I must admit, Countess, that I find your hair rather ravishing. I would so love to have such a natural curliness, but alas, mine are but the stiffest kind.”
Sophia smiled at the younger Marquise, never having met her before but having been told by Condé that she was not entirely unknown. “If I must be honest, then I far more wish for the natural glow of your hair, it suits you so well, far rather to shine than have my curls.” Sophia said before turning to Henri, “You must be overjoyed to have acquired such a jewel.”
Henri glanced fondly over at the Marquise before replying. “Would that I could take all the credit, but without her own efforts I could hardly have hoped to prevail in such a quixotic suit.”
Sophia offered a smile to the both of them, “No doubt.” Before taking a sip of wine, looking at Henri once more, “Your father told me you invited a blackamoor to His Majesty’s coronation.”
M. de Bourbon smiled again, though this time he had to make a bit of an effort to do so. “Monsieur Cazal? Half-black, apparently. Also an accomplished man of letters and a thoroughly insightful fellow. I thought he’d enjoy the spectacle. Did you have occasion to meet him?”
“I did indeed, and I waved happily at it as it passed by.” Sophia responded, “I am afraid that he is not a man of my taste. Not to mention, with one of those, you never really know what you will catch.”
Henri shrugged slightly, taking a sip of his wine. His voice was pitched low enough that only his intended could possibly hear. “Erudition, perhaps?”
The Marquise smiled softly, showing no intent at the comment of her betrothed, who swiftly received a kick on the ankle under the table. Adroitly changing the subject to diffuse possible tension, the Marquise feigned a look at the gardens, with an impressed expression on her faciès. “Your Royal Highness, I must say that these gardens show an interesting potential. However, I am quite certain that the Countess will agree with me that they are very martial in their nature, and could benefit from a gentler.. A more feminine touch with some floral arrangements.”
The Prince shrugged but offered the Marquise a polite smile as he looked out over the garden. Weighing it in his mind. “There is beauty in simplicity, the very martial nature is after all a trademark of our family.” He said as he took a sip of the wine, before remembering himself, “Though I am sure that a feminine touch could make it a very colorful affair, worthy of the house.”
The Marquise pondered her answer, wishing to avoid getting into troubled waters with her princely host. “With those explanations, I certainly see your royal highness’ vision. The gardens, with their clean and abrupt lines, do give an impression of strength and discipline, two qualities displayed by your House that benefited greatly to the realm recently and in ages pasts.
Condé looked at her as he opened his mouth before stopping himself, letting out a small sigh before speaking up “Thank you.” He simply said as Sophia spoke up instead.
“I hear you are new to Paris.” She said, directed at the Marquise, “How do you find the city?”
The young lady seized the occasion to change the subject, noting that the Prince did not display much interest in botany, and thus, such subject should be avoided in the future. She smiled at the Countess and answered: “Paris is a city of contrast. While the sights, the views and the architecture are absolutely adorable, the foulness of the air is quite unbearable. Hopefully, something will be done to clear the air and bring back the much needed purity that His Royal Highness was longing for earlier and that should not be kept only in such idyllic scenery as your domain.” She smiled again, repressing her mixed feelings for the Countess, showing nothing of her interior judgement.
Henri glanced up from his placid, foot-induced silence as the servants started streaming out of the chateau. Only the very perceptive could detect the faintest tinge of relief in his voice. “Ah. Dinner.”
Estate of the Prince of Condé
((Joint IC with @Eid3r and @Sneakyflaps))
The Marquise of Armentières had dreaded that day for about a week, ever since she had been informed by her betrothed that they were to visit his father, the Prince of Condé. Nervous through the last few days, she was not quite sure what to expect of such a prestigious and powerful man, who seem to have the most strained relationship with his son. She had good reasons for her worry, for she knew quite well that many betrothal had floundered for cause of a bad first impression.
She had selected for that day a delicate toilette, in tones of white and crème, her dress very flowing to give this countryside appearance which would match perfectly with the scenery. As she rode from Paris to Écouen, she almost bit her nails to evacuate stress, but discipline triumphed. She was joined by her betrothed almost a league off Écouen, who looked quite dashing on his horse. As he trotted at the height of the carriage, they exchanged pleasantries at first, and discussed:
“I must admit, my dearest, that I am quite nervous about your father’s reaction. I do hope he shall not find me too provincial for his liking.”
M. de Bourbon, for his part, had chosen his ‘regular’ dress uniform, suitable for riding and situations of moderate formality. It remained immaculate and dashing primarily due to the constant exertions of his faithful Breton manservant, as well as Henri’s own habitual neatness. It was also relatively comfortable, as it lacked most of the elaborate braiding and other embellishments that added stiffness, heat, and weight.
He turned to regard his lovely fiancee, inclining his head and giving her a seated bow with a flourish, reminiscent of their first meeting and now very much a private joke on their part.
“Dear, no one could find you so. I’ve never seen any flower bloom quite so brightly or so quickly in Paris as you.”
The young Marquis smiled widely at the remarks, quite happy that he prospective husband be a most skilled men in the art of flattery, a fact which embellished any day of the week.
“You are quite generous in your praise, my dearest, but I shall remain nervous, for while I esteem to have quite charmed you, it remains that your father’s approval of me is quite necessary for our future.”
Henri indicated that this was so with a tilt of his hand, gracefully conceding the point.
“Simply remember that for all his titles, my lord father remains a man, and like all men he is helpless before charm and wit wielded by beauty.”
That last comment was greeted by a frank laugh, before the Marquise replied: “Then, shall I dare say, we should be able to get this situation under control. After all, what ill would befall us?”
Henri just sighs, looking forward to the chateau with little anticipation.
Meanwhile, at Écouen…
”A prayer, Louis?” Sophia asked. She herself had looked forward to meeting the eldest son of Condé once more, they hadn’t seen each other for years, and in truth she had little wish that this meeting became a success. The best thing to come out of this evening would be if Henri was to leave in anger with what little remained between Condé and Henri shattered. The biggest obstacle to her son’s inheritance. If it shattered, Philippe would inherit all, her future would be secure regardless of her husband and she could use her son to ensure her own social standing.
“I find that a prayer often helps before speaking with my son.” Condé replied as he stood up and his valet began helping him with his clothes. Condé himself didn’t expect much from this, by now he had become quite aware that his son would not waste a chance to blame him for his failings, and worse yet, would take every chance to mock him. Though all the same, Henri had actually managed to get betrothed, and to a noble no less, surely he must be able to behave at times. “Where is Philippe?”
“Out riding once again, like he always is when he isn’t studying.” Sophia responded as she walked over in front of Condé, adjusting his collar slightly before giving him a peck on the cheek, “You look well.”
“Good.” The Prince said as he went out of the room, going downstairs and into the garden, having to look forward to this joy.
As the new couple arrived at Écouen, the Marquise was helped out of the carriage by her betrothed. She glanced at the estate, a little awed and being reminded that very moment that she was about to marry as close to royalty as could be. She quickly ensured that her dress had survived properly the travel, before taking the arm of Monsieur de Bourbon. Her cousin stayed with the carriage, given the propriety of the situation.
Henri dismounted his horse with practiced ease, using his traveling cane to assist in his descent before switching it for his formal cane. Once settled on his feet, he took the Marquise’s arm with a smile, then led her into the Chateau. He seemed entirely at ease in the palatial setting, nodding convivially to the servants who he recognized. With little conscious thought, he leads his betrothed through the hallways; though they are naturally conducted by a servant, he hardly needs the help. Soon enough, the pair arrives in the garden.
Condé and Sophia already sat in the garden, across the small bridge from the Château with their backs towards the palace. The main table had already been prepared, chairs put out for Henri and his fiancee across from Condé and Sophia. The servants standing ready at the side near another table, with various cakes, fruits, wine and other refreshments for them all to indulge themselves in.
Henri came to a stop several steps away from the table, making a courtly little half-bow. His father received a pleasant if somewhat neutral smile, while the one Sophia received at least somewhat more genuine. Now, how to make introductions without a faux pas… ah, of course. A courtesy promotion. “My lord father, my lady, may I introduce my betrothed, Amélie Constance, Marquise of Armentières and Lady of Pisany. Lady Amélie, my lord father, the Prince of Condé, and Lady Sophia Dawes.”
The Marquise proceeded with a proper curtsey, first to the Prince, then to his compagne. She used all her concentration, focus and talent to produce a most amicable face at the mention of la catin, which she performed admirably given that ladies had always resorted to good manners to disguise their thoughts. “Votre Altesse royale, c’est un grand honneur de faire votre connaissance. Madame Dawes.” She curtseyed again, then looking at her promis to engage the conversation.
Henri doesn’t quite sigh, but inclines his head very slightly and leads his betrothed to her seat. Once Amelie and Sophia are in their seats, he nods to his father and takes his own, smoothing out the front of his uniform. “The estate is looking well. Have you been spending much time here of late?”
“I have indeed, the air here is most refreshing, it has a certain freshness and purity, something which Paris lacks as of late.” Condé responded, “But I hear you fare well in it.”
“Ah, well, as you know, the present government does much to keep affairs clouded, but here and there you can find pockets of clean, honest air,” Henri replied, expression amiable.
“Then one must gasp at the pockets.” Condé responded, taking one of his grapes. “Would you or your fiancee wish for anything, Henri?”
Henri inclined his head towards the table. “Wine would be lovely. Maybe not white wine.” Condé nodded as the servants brought forward the wine. The Marquise chuckled a moment, covering her laugh by a small coughing, thus camouflaging a nascent smile under the cloth she moved to her mouth as both Sophia and Condé raised an eyebrow.
As the dinner progressed, the Marquise had the occasion to chat amicably with the Countess of L’Isle-Jourdain, a feat rendered the more epic by the incredible gossip following her and tainting her reputation, spreading from the very top of society. “I must admit, Countess, that I find your hair rather ravishing. I would so love to have such a natural curliness, but alas, mine are but the stiffest kind.”
Sophia smiled at the younger Marquise, never having met her before but having been told by Condé that she was not entirely unknown. “If I must be honest, then I far more wish for the natural glow of your hair, it suits you so well, far rather to shine than have my curls.” Sophia said before turning to Henri, “You must be overjoyed to have acquired such a jewel.”
Henri glanced fondly over at the Marquise before replying. “Would that I could take all the credit, but without her own efforts I could hardly have hoped to prevail in such a quixotic suit.”
Sophia offered a smile to the both of them, “No doubt.” Before taking a sip of wine, looking at Henri once more, “Your father told me you invited a blackamoor to His Majesty’s coronation.”
M. de Bourbon smiled again, though this time he had to make a bit of an effort to do so. “Monsieur Cazal? Half-black, apparently. Also an accomplished man of letters and a thoroughly insightful fellow. I thought he’d enjoy the spectacle. Did you have occasion to meet him?”
“I did indeed, and I waved happily at it as it passed by.” Sophia responded, “I am afraid that he is not a man of my taste. Not to mention, with one of those, you never really know what you will catch.”
Henri shrugged slightly, taking a sip of his wine. His voice was pitched low enough that only his intended could possibly hear. “Erudition, perhaps?”
The Marquise smiled softly, showing no intent at the comment of her betrothed, who swiftly received a kick on the ankle under the table. Adroitly changing the subject to diffuse possible tension, the Marquise feigned a look at the gardens, with an impressed expression on her faciès. “Your Royal Highness, I must say that these gardens show an interesting potential. However, I am quite certain that the Countess will agree with me that they are very martial in their nature, and could benefit from a gentler.. A more feminine touch with some floral arrangements.”
The Prince shrugged but offered the Marquise a polite smile as he looked out over the garden. Weighing it in his mind. “There is beauty in simplicity, the very martial nature is after all a trademark of our family.” He said as he took a sip of the wine, before remembering himself, “Though I am sure that a feminine touch could make it a very colorful affair, worthy of the house.”
The Marquise pondered her answer, wishing to avoid getting into troubled waters with her princely host. “With those explanations, I certainly see your royal highness’ vision. The gardens, with their clean and abrupt lines, do give an impression of strength and discipline, two qualities displayed by your House that benefited greatly to the realm recently and in ages pasts.
Condé looked at her as he opened his mouth before stopping himself, letting out a small sigh before speaking up “Thank you.” He simply said as Sophia spoke up instead.
“I hear you are new to Paris.” She said, directed at the Marquise, “How do you find the city?”
The young lady seized the occasion to change the subject, noting that the Prince did not display much interest in botany, and thus, such subject should be avoided in the future. She smiled at the Countess and answered: “Paris is a city of contrast. While the sights, the views and the architecture are absolutely adorable, the foulness of the air is quite unbearable. Hopefully, something will be done to clear the air and bring back the much needed purity that His Royal Highness was longing for earlier and that should not be kept only in such idyllic scenery as your domain.” She smiled again, repressing her mixed feelings for the Countess, showing nothing of her interior judgement.
Henri glanced up from his placid, foot-induced silence as the servants started streaming out of the chateau. Only the very perceptive could detect the faintest tinge of relief in his voice. “Ah. Dinner.”
It was a bright and warm tuesday afternoon. The Capital was under a very long spell of hot weather, which had as a consequence of sending back the good society in their salons to avoid the harshness of summer. Yes, there was from time to time a promenade or two in the parks, but the weather was causing these simple and menial occasions to become rather exhausting. The Marquises of Armentières was therefore hosting on that day, with friends and visitors coming and going, the greetings cards announcing possible arrivals. The sobriety and propriety of the occasion was ensured by a very bored cousin of the young noble, Ernest Emmanuel of Croÿ, who had the distinct honour of spending the summer in the capital, and thus of being called upon to supervise the activities of the Marquise, until she was shipped off to a husband who could deal with such boredom. The discussion was coming and going, from topics of the most recent flurry of novels published just in time for the summer to the more complex issues of politics, with the occasional gossip between subjects.
The Duke de Saint-Aignan, accompanied by his wife Anne, entered the lobby of the de Croix residence. He shook the road dust off his cloak and handed it to the doorman, along with snow-white gloves and a cane. Then the Duke and the Duchess proceeded into the salon, where the Marquise of Armentieres was already waiting for them.
As the Duchess of Saint-Aignan and her husband the Duke arrived, the Marquise smiled widely and invited them to a comfortable looking récamier, which would place them at the center of the conversation.
“My dear Duchess, you do a great honour to house by your visit! And Monsieur le Duc, I am quite touched that you would take time from your exhausting schedule to visit us! Can I serve you an appéritif?” said the young Marquise? At this mention, a domestique approached, ready to provide the couple with refreshments.
"Darling, you can call me just Anne. Hopefully I am not that old yet! And I am very happy to see you."- laughed the Duchess de Saint-Aignan. She tilted her head in the gesture of greeting - and in her small ears gleamed the graceful earrings with large Indian rubies. "It is so nice here, the interior is extremely well-picked! Did you make arrangements regarding this room yourself?" The Duke de Saint-Aignan, in his turn, kissed the air about a centimeter from the Marquise's hand. According to the customs of etiquette, since they were not acquainted for a long time, he could not touch her wrist yet. "My lady, I'm glad that I can visit my old friend's granddaughter, especially since now I have to leave the city for a several days." Then he nodded gratefully at the offer of an aperitif. "We would like a few glasses of amontillado if you have any." When the servant left to bring drinks, the Duchess de Saint-Aignan went on with the conversation. "During the banquet in honor of the coronation, you and my husband talked about literary issues. Since then, I'm eager to ask you - have you ever read the work of M. de Saint-Germain? I find them very exciting."
The Marquise smiled frankly at the good manners displayed by the politician, who complimented his proper conduct by the most honeyed voice, an attribute quite practical in his line of work. “Monsieur le Duc, allow me to give your the warm regards of my grandfather, the Duke of Croÿ, who has sadly already left the capital for the summer. I am quite sure he will be greatly amiss when I tell him of your visit.”
She turned toward the Duchess, answering her kindness with her girlish voice: “Only if you do me the honour of calling me Amélie, Madame Anne.” She turned on herself, glancing at the room, before answering the query of the duchess. “I certainly improved on certain aspect, with new papier-peint and curtains, but I am afraid I can only partly claim the credit for the final result, as my esteemed mother is much to be praised for her bon goût in furnitures and décor.”
When the discussion passed on literary taste, the young Marquise felt on sturdier grounds. She smiles at the comment, as Monsieur de Saint-Germain was the writer the most in vogue at the moment, even if she felt his writing were rather simplistic.
“I have certainly started on his most recent book, but I am afraid that I have not yet completed the reading. So far, I find the writing most delicious, I must admit, and I can’t wait to proceed further. I have somewhat, to my greatest shame, fallen behind on my readings over the spring, between moving to Paris, the Coronation and certain personal preparations.” She smiled as she said the last words, as the news of her betrothal to Henri de Bourbon was beginning to spread through the city since in Paris, a secret was something to be told one person at a time.
"Is your grandfather in his estates now? Surely it's all in bloom there right now. We would also have left for our manors if my duties did not shackle me to Paris." - stated the Duke de Saint-Aignan. At that time, his wife, hiding her elegant hands in a sable muff, continued the theme of fiction. "Dear Amelie, do you know that M. Saint-Germain is a man of very humble origins, who has passed through great difficulties in his life? All the more valuable is the wealth of impressions that he puts into his books."
Here she lowered her voice slightly and said in a conspiratorial whisper "I must confess, dear, that I prefer him to the Vicomte de Châteaubriand now, when he became so accustomed to fame and began to resemble a spoiled young lady. This has influenced his style, it has become rather ... artsy and pretentious, do you not you think?" Here the Duke de Saint-Aignan grinned sardonically - his wife fell out of love with Châteaubriand after his conflict with Villele and attempts to capture Polignac's portfolio. But he did not say anything, and, taking a glass of amontillado from the servant, took a sip. "But, regarding the last book of Saint-Germain, it is more adventurous than philosophical, is not it? My sons love it." When the Marquess hinted regarding her forthcoming marriage, Anna's eyes glowered. The aristocratic Paris was gossiping about this betrothal quite avidly. "Oh! But such preparations are more pleasant than burdensome, I believe?"- asked the Duchess de Saint-Aignan.
The Marquise answered the quite extensive flurry of questions: “Indeed, he has retired to Havré I believe. The countryside near there is absolutely beautiful at this time of the year. He always likes to spend the summer over there, and I myself, keeps quite fond memories of my youthful days spent in his company.” Returning to the literary conversation, she responded to the Duchess: “I must confess I was rather ignorant of the personal origins of Monsieur de Saint-Germain, but I must tell you, Dearest Anne, that I exchanged correspondence with him after we’ve been introduced by a common friend and he agreed to visit my salon in the upcoming weeks. Should you be interested, I can ensure that you are kept appraised of the day of his visit.”
On the subject of the Vicomte de Châteaubriand, the young Marquise exchanged a regard de connivence with the Duchess. “While I do profess my unbound admiration for the good Vicomte, it is quite certain that the fame of his previous efforts taints our expectations for his newest works, which while I find them most interesting, are certainly burdened by some artistic flourish which are maybe overcompensating.”
When the discussion turned to her upcoming wedding, she smiled nervously before answering : “Indeed, these are preparations of the most pleasant sort, but I shall confess to you my nervousness given that at this stage, anything could be meddling in my future happiness. I am told I shall meet my future father in law at the end of this week, and I must make the best of impression. Do you have any guidance to offer me about the Prince of Condé?”
Hearing the confession of the young woman, the Duke de Saint-Aignan smiled approvingly. The fact that she wanted to make a good impression on the father of her future husband demonstrated her sensibility. Aside from the ethical aspect, this will, after all, in part influence the financial and social future of her children. Henri de Bourbon by his ungrateful and impudent actions has already spoiled his relationships with the titled parent. The Marquise will act wisely if she corrects such wrongs. "I assure you Prince de Conde is a kind and most hospitable nobleman. And he loves his children very much. Give him respect, which he deserves due to his age and position, do not be anger him by unnecessary arguments- older people do not like it. And then your meeting will pass perfectly. "- said the Duke. His wife made a polite addition "Dear Amelie, I'm sure that you will charm the prince." The duke nodded, rather out of tact than out of complete certainty. He himself thought that the old man now cared only about very few things, such as his wine, fruits and younger offspring. He even ceased to actively participate in ultra-royalist politics, although not long ago, due to his wealth, he exerted considerable influence behind the scenes.
The Marquise nodded as she listened to the advice of the Duke, smiling widely has he concluded her upcoming visit to the Condé estate would be successful. “I certainly thank you for your wisdom, your Grace.”
"But tell me - did you already think about the dress, or the ceremony?" - the Duchess de Saint-Aignan now spoke of the eternal women's issues "It is very important that the priest has a melodic voice. At the wedding of my friend's daughter, the Duchess de Rohan-Rohan, the abbot squeaked so terribly, that the guests almost laughed! The poor girl was red with shame."
The young lady laughed softly, not at the misfortune of the poor Duchess of Rohan, but at the situation in itself, before answering. “I have not yet made my mind on the dress, although I would like to opt for simplicity. After the coronation, I believe that everything ostentatious has been demonstrated in terms of fashion and it would be difficult to give a new impression in this domain. As for the priest, I am told that my grandfather had put a word in our favour to the Archbishop of Reims. It would be quite an honour indeed should it conclude in a satisfactory manner”.
"If the Archbishop of Reims would officiate himself, it will not only be very glamorous, but will also bring your marriage God's blessing." – Anne commented, while adjusting her perfumed gloves. She obviously would gladly discuss this topic for hours, but her husband began to show signs of impatience. Slightly touching her elbow, the Duke de Saint-Aignan remarked, "My love, we are forced to hurry. Remember, we are expected by the Duke de Sully." The Duchess of Saint-Aignan sighed." I am very sorry to leave such a pleasant company, but I hope (and I'm sure) that we are not talking for the last time." The Duke de Saint-Aignan once again bowed "We thank you for your hospitality and ask to return us the visit. We usually host dinners on Wednesdays and Saturdays ..." Here his wife laughed and completed the phrase of the Minister of Justice "But we will be happy to see you at any time."
The Marquise thanked them both profusely for their visit, and promised obviously to visit as soon as possible. As they left, she accompanied them to the staircase, before returning to her other guest.
“Was that the Minister of Justice?” said the Countess of Ligny. “Amélie, you never told me you had such connections!”
And the young marquise flashed her a smile back. “Of course Eugénie, proof being that you are here today”. Both women laughed wholeheartedly and returned to their gossiping.
((Private @MadMartigan ))
Cher Monsieur Duval,
I have received your letter with great interest as I enjoy reviewing the reception of my articles, be they praise or criticism. I appreciate the practical nature of your concerns but must first object to the proposition that man's society is arbitrary. Surely the exact nature of the institutions themselves are arbitrary, if it were not so then there would be no differences amongst the national characteristics of peoples. Namely such things as Parliament in Britain or Tsarism in Russia would not find such manifold different forms of unique expression. However, (I hope you will allow me to introduce a concept I am preparing to write on) the natural right of authority in a society rests in four tiers. These tiers of authority go down from the highest, ultimate authority the Theonomy, that is the law of God, Heteronomy, the law of the sovereign on Earth, Patronomy, the law of the father, and Autonomy, the law of the self. In the exercise of statehood it is the role of the sovereign to enact the will of God as the faith of a people is the ultimate expression of that people's prosperity and destiny.
Remarking further on the practical insistence of your position you rightly recognize the extreme care necessary for general to not give an order that will not be obeyed. Truly, the tact and skill necessary to command men into the fires of war is similar to the requirements of a sovereign whose role it is to lead his subjects through the Luciferian winds that confront man at all times. Verily, it would be most wrong for a general to exacerbate needlessly wounds that may divide the functioning force of the army, as these divisions may make the army's mission, namely the confrontation and defeat of the enemy, impossible. In that manner if a command would be rebelled against so as to prevent the mission of the army being done it should not be given. However, you ask me now to look at the anti-sacrilege laws in this way, as commands being given that shall divide and distract from the business of the national prosperity and destiny. This I cannot do, sir, for two reasons. The first is very simple, that being a Minister of War for this government I cannot go against the will of the King, my very life is his own to command. It is not the role of the head of the army to publicly oppose a government's measures. This reason is one of pure propriety, the latter is one of moral principle which we may disagree upon. The second is that the sole purpose of the sovereign's actions is to promote the salvation of his people. In this goal we find all the economic and political maneuvering justified. Therefore, this anti-sacrilege law, a law designed directly to improve the faith of the French people, is a direct thrust of this motive. In the comparison you make to a general's command, it is as if the general, the King, has commanded his troops to assault the breach in a fortress.
You say that France should rise up in rebellion over this law, that to promulgate its commands would lead to an irresponsible distraction as of a foolish and overly strict officer's commands. Rather, think now upon soldiers disobeying the simple and paramount command to attack. The King or general must make this command, and if his subjects or soldiers rebel it is not the fault of his own judgement but the sinful spirits of those rebels. The general must crush this rebellion head on, to ground down the temptations of pride placed into those soldiers by the Devil himself. It is not for a subject of the King to refuse the ordinances of His Majesty, but to obey them with faith, honesty, and a supreme trust in the wisdom of Divinely ordained better. I appreciate the practical concerns, sir, but I ask you to think on these words and on the path that all of us men of power must follow to restore France's place as the eldest daughter of the Church and the pearl in the eyes of God.
Le Vicomte de Saint Fulgent, le Ministre de la guerre
Cher Monsieur Duval,
I have received your letter with great interest as I enjoy reviewing the reception of my articles, be they praise or criticism. I appreciate the practical nature of your concerns but must first object to the proposition that man's society is arbitrary. Surely the exact nature of the institutions themselves are arbitrary, if it were not so then there would be no differences amongst the national characteristics of peoples. Namely such things as Parliament in Britain or Tsarism in Russia would not find such manifold different forms of unique expression. However, (I hope you will allow me to introduce a concept I am preparing to write on) the natural right of authority in a society rests in four tiers. These tiers of authority go down from the highest, ultimate authority the Theonomy, that is the law of God, Heteronomy, the law of the sovereign on Earth, Patronomy, the law of the father, and Autonomy, the law of the self. In the exercise of statehood it is the role of the sovereign to enact the will of God as the faith of a people is the ultimate expression of that people's prosperity and destiny.
Remarking further on the practical insistence of your position you rightly recognize the extreme care necessary for general to not give an order that will not be obeyed. Truly, the tact and skill necessary to command men into the fires of war is similar to the requirements of a sovereign whose role it is to lead his subjects through the Luciferian winds that confront man at all times. Verily, it would be most wrong for a general to exacerbate needlessly wounds that may divide the functioning force of the army, as these divisions may make the army's mission, namely the confrontation and defeat of the enemy, impossible. In that manner if a command would be rebelled against so as to prevent the mission of the army being done it should not be given. However, you ask me now to look at the anti-sacrilege laws in this way, as commands being given that shall divide and distract from the business of the national prosperity and destiny. This I cannot do, sir, for two reasons. The first is very simple, that being a Minister of War for this government I cannot go against the will of the King, my very life is his own to command. It is not the role of the head of the army to publicly oppose a government's measures. This reason is one of pure propriety, the latter is one of moral principle which we may disagree upon. The second is that the sole purpose of the sovereign's actions is to promote the salvation of his people. In this goal we find all the economic and political maneuvering justified. Therefore, this anti-sacrilege law, a law designed directly to improve the faith of the French people, is a direct thrust of this motive. In the comparison you make to a general's command, it is as if the general, the King, has commanded his troops to assault the breach in a fortress.
You say that France should rise up in rebellion over this law, that to promulgate its commands would lead to an irresponsible distraction as of a foolish and overly strict officer's commands. Rather, think now upon soldiers disobeying the simple and paramount command to attack. The King or general must make this command, and if his subjects or soldiers rebel it is not the fault of his own judgement but the sinful spirits of those rebels. The general must crush this rebellion head on, to ground down the temptations of pride placed into those soldiers by the Devil himself. It is not for a subject of the King to refuse the ordinances of His Majesty, but to obey them with faith, honesty, and a supreme trust in the wisdom of Divinely ordained better. I appreciate the practical concerns, sir, but I ask you to think on these words and on the path that all of us men of power must follow to restore France's place as the eldest daughter of the Church and the pearl in the eyes of God.
Le Vicomte de Saint Fulgent, le Ministre de la guerre