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Legislative Elections 1852
Fusionist (Legitimist)
[Assembly, Haute-Loire]
[Polignac, +2PP]
Ballot: Republican (Bonapartist)
[ Radicalisme retournee: +!PP]
[Assembly (Somme)]
[ Radicalisme retournee: +!PP]
[Assembly (Somme)]
SOCIETE ATHLETIQUE PARISIENNE
(S.A. Parisienne)
. . .
PARISIAN RULES for GRANDE CHOULE (1852)
1. The size of a field shall be no more than 100 meters lengthwise and 50 meters widthwise.PARISIAN RULES for GRANDE CHOULE (1852)
2. The soule shall be a round ball with a diameter no smaller than 15 centimeters and no larger than 30 centimeters.
3. At the commencement of the play, the ball shall be thrown up from the middle of the ground: after every goal there shall be a pitch up in the same way.
4. A goal is scored whenever the soule comes to a stop within the opposing team’s parish.
5. The parishes are the areas at the far ends of the field, which shall occupy no less than 5% of the field’s total area.
6. Hands may be used to pick up and throw the soule, but a player may not move his feet while holding it.
7. Kicks must be aimed only at the soule.
8. No tripping up, pushing with the hands, or heel kicking is allowed. However, any player may prevent another from getting to the soule by other means, so long as they are consistent with the other rules.
9. Whenever the soule is kicked or thrown beyond the side flags, it must be returned by the player who kicked it, from the spot it passed the flag line, in a straight line towards the middle of the field.
10. When the soule is kicked or thrown behind the line of a parish, it shall be kicked off from that line by one of the side whose parish it is.
11. No opposite player may stand within five paces of the kicker when he is kicking off.
12. Teams must be of the same size, with no more than twenty players each, and no more than ten of those players may be on the field at a given time, unless prior arrangements have been made to the contrary.
13. Players are free to substitute at-will.
14. The first team to score fifteen goals will be the winner, unless previously arranged otherwise.
Place Vendôme, Paris
Louis-Napoleon reclines in his comfortable outdoor chair, idly tapping cigar ash against the armrest where it falls down onto the extant small mountain thereof. It was a bit chilly, to be sure, but hardly as frigid as it would be come winter. Perfect for a little exertion. Not by him, of course.
Twenty men are on the plaza in a cordoned-off area, engaging in a healthy ball-game that looks modestly less brutal than the average riot. A few constables linger nearby, a bit nervous about the entire affair, but they've all accepted Louis-Napoleon's cigars and his promises that it would all remain contained.
As they practice, Louis-Napoleon reflects to himself that this may be the one truly productive thing to come from all those endless meetings with Deflandre and Charbonneau. Two documents had emerged, but it was increasingly likely that only one would ever see the light of day. Ah, well, no matter. It was an excellent watch.
The official lowers the blue flag and the twenty blue-clad men, their shirts emblazoned with golden honeybees, come together in yet another skirmish. Meanwhile, hired guards keep the onlookers on the sidelines and watch over the players' surprisingly extensive collection of knives and other implements, all of which were confiscated before the match.
Truly, Louis-Napoleon thought, this was a most pleasant diversion, watching honest Frenchmen at play in the shadow of his uncle's column. If only every day could be like this.
Louis-Napoleon reclines in his comfortable outdoor chair, idly tapping cigar ash against the armrest where it falls down onto the extant small mountain thereof. It was a bit chilly, to be sure, but hardly as frigid as it would be come winter. Perfect for a little exertion. Not by him, of course.
Twenty men are on the plaza in a cordoned-off area, engaging in a healthy ball-game that looks modestly less brutal than the average riot. A few constables linger nearby, a bit nervous about the entire affair, but they've all accepted Louis-Napoleon's cigars and his promises that it would all remain contained.
As they practice, Louis-Napoleon reflects to himself that this may be the one truly productive thing to come from all those endless meetings with Deflandre and Charbonneau. Two documents had emerged, but it was increasingly likely that only one would ever see the light of day. Ah, well, no matter. It was an excellent watch.
The official lowers the blue flag and the twenty blue-clad men, their shirts emblazoned with golden honeybees, come together in yet another skirmish. Meanwhile, hired guards keep the onlookers on the sidelines and watch over the players' surprisingly extensive collection of knives and other implements, all of which were confiscated before the match.
Truly, Louis-Napoleon thought, this was a most pleasant diversion, watching honest Frenchmen at play in the shadow of his uncle's column. If only every day could be like this.
Hôtel de Lassay, Paris, 1852
(Joint IC with @Michaelangelo and @Eid3r)
The Princess of Armentières had returned from her mediterranean cruise in the wake of the June Days. Luckily for her, the Hôtel de Lassay was still standing, undamaged, a virtual bastion of privilege in the heart of Paris. She wore a beautiful gown of pink silk that day, which suited very well her general happiness. It is with a large smile that she arrived in the dining room, where the Prince de Guéméné and the President of the Republic were enjoying one of their late night session, with good bottles already close to being empty.
“Philippe. My dear cousin. How do you both fare on this lovely day?”
“Excellent.” Philippe replied, a sense of calm over him, far greater than that which was during his election or first tenure. “I have really taken a liking to Saint-Cloud, the walks in the gardens, the evening entertaining, the sheer relaxation.” A smirk forming on Philippe’s lips as he looked at Amélie, “A worthy gift from a grateful French people to their First President.”
Amélie accepted a glass of rhenish wine from a servant as she sat at the table. “I always knew the people would take such a liking to you Philippe. You were a young man loving horseback riding that I already knew you would excel and exceed the legacy of your brother” she quipped. “I have received the most curious letter Philippe, and given that Louis is in Austria, I believe it concerns you most directly.”
“I hope it is good news,” Louis de Rohan said, taking a sip of wine and acknowledging his cousin with a nod. “I think we are due some after recent events.”
“But Louis, who are we to break such a wonderful cycle of grief.” Philippe asked, the smirk staying as strong as ever as he looked over at his sister-in-law, “I take it he has settled well, I know the weather in Vienna can be as dreadful as their company, but it has its charm.”
“Louis is forever grateful of the interest you have shown him, my dear brother. But tonight, a letter arrive and it concerns your beloved niece, Charlotte. It is from a prospective suitor, an unlikely one. Monsieur de Bonaparte wishes to engage in courtship with Charlotte. Would you say it is an interesting opportunity, or the latest misfortune in your cycle?”
Rohan choked on his latest sip of wine, gagging for a moment as the liquid went down the wrong hole. He really needed to stop drinking while others were talking. “Are we talking about the Monsieur Bonaparte?”
“The one and only” answered Amélie. She produced the letter and gave it to her cousin Rohan. “Such an attractive man, I must say I almost hope the subject of the letter was intended to me rather than to Charlotte. But this is certainly more political than anything.”
One could not help but wonder if Rohan was going to ruin his shirt once again, he did look like a bit of a mess as he left Saint-Cloud. “He is certainly something, I suppose one could say he is attractive.” Philippe gave Amélie, not entirely sure if he was agreeing with such a sentiment. “It’s seems Bonaparte is more desperate than I would have thought.”
Rohan scowled, putting down his wine glass for now. “This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to feed off the legacy of Armentières.” He looked over at his cousin Amélie. “I hope you have no plans to consider this offer?”
“I would certainly accept with much delight to feed of his rather large legacy” thought Amélie, suppressing the urge of saying something scandalous. “I have naught but the welfare of my daughter at heart. Could such a match further her prospects? I must say that I am distraught that at 25, she has been rather short of suitors.” answered the princess.
“A struggle all parents must live through,” Rohan said with a sigh before adding, “at least those families that count themselves amongst the nobility.” The Prince leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You cannot believe the struggle I’ve gone through to arrange a match for my eldest son, Beau. Not so much as a reply over the course of two years. At least he’s preoccupied with his military career, so finding him a wife is not so pressing a matter yet.”
“It is this spirit of republicanism, I tell you. It is like a curse as been thrown on the noblest of families with the abolition of our titles. Oh Philippe, can you not do something about that?” answered Amélie, taking a sip of her wine. “I am of no mind on this proposal for Bonaparte, but I can discern some benefits should he maintain himself in the public opinion.”
“He is a man with a great reputation, but not a penny to his name, or property for that matter. That is, no property other than which his mistress has granted him.” Philippe replied, not particularly amused about the match the more he thought about it. “I would rather not see my niece destitute after what is to follow. I believe that the restoration of the monarchy is all be assured, and it shan't be an Imperial Restoration.”
“Your brother had not a penny to his name when I agreed to marry him, over the objection of my parents. Last I have looked back, life has not been so unkind to me afterward, wouldn’t you agree, brother?”
“He may possess a great reputation, but is it one you wish your family to be associated with?” Rohan asked. “Keep in mind all that his family has done to France, no, all of Europe. I certainly have not forgotten.”
“Henri had something which Bonaparte shall never have.” Philippe replied, smiling most kindly to his sister-in-law who sought to disagree with him.
Amélie shot back an answer to her cousin Rohan. “I shall never forget. But in this house, we have always refused to visit the sins of the father upon the son, or in this case, the sins of the uncle upon the nephew. Should we derogate from this maxim, I wonder what they will say about my beloved Henri.” She then turned her gaze toward Philippe. “None shall ever compete with Henri, for he was my one true love and I shant love another with such passion. This being said, I am undecided. I assume Charlotte must have a say in the matter, for it is her future. But I do wonder where Bonaparte is going with such an offer...”
“Out the door from whence he came with it.” Philippe replied, without doubt in his voice this time. “You may be undecided, but for this I am not, and Charlotte must have a say, but not in this matter.” Philippe said firmly as he took a sip from the wine, “It would be a marriage of potential disaster for our family, it is not a good match. Two years ago, perhaps, but not today. Bonaparte at best would be President and she would be a First Lady. He has no property, you had, he has no wealthy father who can secure his future, Henri had. It is a poor match, no matter if he has potential. It's too bare, not to mention far too risky prior to this election, an election that could make or break both him and the monarchy.” Philippe sighed briefly, “Or would you have Louis give up his inheritance so that Bonaparte could provide for himself?”
“What say you, my dear cousin” asked Amélie.
“I must agree with Philippe, more for the political dangers than the economic ones,” Rohan said. “We do not know where Bonaparte intends to head, and he may well lead Charlotte down a dangerous path. It would not do to be close to the head of such a controversial political movement, let alone one in opposition to the monarchists. I also fear that it would provide Bonaparte with political fodder to use against us. Marrying the daughter of Armentières, one of the June Monarchy’s most prestigious figures, could be used to cripple the monarchist movement or at least force away some of our support.”
“It is almost settled then. But I shall consult with Charlotte. It is her life we are speaking of after all. She, as any of us, is entitled to her decision, her risks and potentially, her mistakes.”
Philippe finished his glass as he stood up, “She is not. Not in this matter, unless she wishes to run away to England with him. Regardless of her choices and wishes, it is also our duty to ensure that she does not throw her life away.” Philippe sighed once again, “Besides, I heard there is a very appealing match for her, whose last name isn't Bonaparte.”
Amélie, never one to back away from an argument, fired back. “When I married your brother, I was told I was throwing my life away, that it was a mistake. When you launched your campaign for the presidency, the whole of Paris told you it was a mistake. You will excuse me, but Charlotte shall decide, for in this family, mistakes seems to be rather good omen.”
She rose, finishing her glass, and headed toward the exit. She did turn, however “Who would that match of yours be, exactly?”
“A rich young man, early twenties with plenty of estates and a Princely title, the next Duc de Montbazon.” Philippe’s smirk slightly returned as he looked to both of them, Philippe going up to Amélie “The decision with Bonaparte is final, but do sit down, there is plenty to talk about.”
Rohan raised an eyebrow at Philippe’s statement. He had not even thought of such a thing, for he was so close to Amélie and her family that it would be almost like pairing his own children together. Yet his overtures to the Queen Mother of Spain had been ignored and he was getting antsy about securing his family’s legacy. He wasn’t getting any younger, and he wished to ensure the continuation of his line. Perhaps it seemed a foolish thing to focus on, but if there was one thing he cared most about accomplishing before he died, it was securing his family’s future. “I must admit, such thoughts have not crossed my mind before, but I find myself struggling to secure my son’s future. I wish the best for my son.” He looked over at Amélie as she stood by the door. “As you surely wish the best for your daughter.”
Amélie looked amicably to her cousin. “We are both looking for the best for our children. But Philippe, before tossing possible matches in the air in such fashion, do remind yourself that my beloved cousin’s mother is my uncle’s daughter. We are far too close a kin for such a match for our children.”
“Its close, no doubt, but not impossible by any degree.” Philippe reassured her, “It is either right on the edge of being allowed as it stands, and as such we simply must have a Bishop given dispensation.”
“Yes Philippe, it is all as simple as signing a decree or writing to a Bishop.” said Amélie as she left the room.
“I suppose it is something to think about,” Rohan said as Amélie departed. “I would hope it would be considered less scandalous than marrying a Bonaparte, at least.”
“Worry not, I will speak with Amélie, thinking about it it should be fine, the law prohibits within fourth degree, I believe that your children would either be fifth or sixth degree in relation.” Philippe refilled his glass as his finished his sentence. “They are second cousins, which is allowed.”
Rohan tentatively took a sip of wine, having left the drink unattended for the duration of the conversation. He was relieved to finally down some of it without spitting it back up in shock. Such waste of wine that way. “There is no need to worry about such things. I would consider the possibility of a match with Bonaparte the greater threat than any suggestions of incest. In the end, I would never dare force Amélie’s hand. If she wishes her daughter to have a say, then so be it.”
“Just don't tell her that.” The young President smiled, as was getting ready to leave for Saint-Cloud, “So.” Philippe let it hang in the air, “Think I could convince them to give me the Château for my services to France?” He asked, half in jest and half serious.
Rohan rose from his seat, feeling the conversation near its end. “I think a lovely estate is the least you deserve for everything we’ve been put through.” As he walked with Philippe towards the door, he smirked and added, “They should be crowning me Duke of Brittany for the years of my life they’ve drained from me with all these republican antics.”
(Joint IC with @Michaelangelo and @Eid3r)
The Princess of Armentières had returned from her mediterranean cruise in the wake of the June Days. Luckily for her, the Hôtel de Lassay was still standing, undamaged, a virtual bastion of privilege in the heart of Paris. She wore a beautiful gown of pink silk that day, which suited very well her general happiness. It is with a large smile that she arrived in the dining room, where the Prince de Guéméné and the President of the Republic were enjoying one of their late night session, with good bottles already close to being empty.
“Philippe. My dear cousin. How do you both fare on this lovely day?”
“Excellent.” Philippe replied, a sense of calm over him, far greater than that which was during his election or first tenure. “I have really taken a liking to Saint-Cloud, the walks in the gardens, the evening entertaining, the sheer relaxation.” A smirk forming on Philippe’s lips as he looked at Amélie, “A worthy gift from a grateful French people to their First President.”
Amélie accepted a glass of rhenish wine from a servant as she sat at the table. “I always knew the people would take such a liking to you Philippe. You were a young man loving horseback riding that I already knew you would excel and exceed the legacy of your brother” she quipped. “I have received the most curious letter Philippe, and given that Louis is in Austria, I believe it concerns you most directly.”
“I hope it is good news,” Louis de Rohan said, taking a sip of wine and acknowledging his cousin with a nod. “I think we are due some after recent events.”
“But Louis, who are we to break such a wonderful cycle of grief.” Philippe asked, the smirk staying as strong as ever as he looked over at his sister-in-law, “I take it he has settled well, I know the weather in Vienna can be as dreadful as their company, but it has its charm.”
“Louis is forever grateful of the interest you have shown him, my dear brother. But tonight, a letter arrive and it concerns your beloved niece, Charlotte. It is from a prospective suitor, an unlikely one. Monsieur de Bonaparte wishes to engage in courtship with Charlotte. Would you say it is an interesting opportunity, or the latest misfortune in your cycle?”
Rohan choked on his latest sip of wine, gagging for a moment as the liquid went down the wrong hole. He really needed to stop drinking while others were talking. “Are we talking about the Monsieur Bonaparte?”
“The one and only” answered Amélie. She produced the letter and gave it to her cousin Rohan. “Such an attractive man, I must say I almost hope the subject of the letter was intended to me rather than to Charlotte. But this is certainly more political than anything.”
One could not help but wonder if Rohan was going to ruin his shirt once again, he did look like a bit of a mess as he left Saint-Cloud. “He is certainly something, I suppose one could say he is attractive.” Philippe gave Amélie, not entirely sure if he was agreeing with such a sentiment. “It’s seems Bonaparte is more desperate than I would have thought.”
Rohan scowled, putting down his wine glass for now. “This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to feed off the legacy of Armentières.” He looked over at his cousin Amélie. “I hope you have no plans to consider this offer?”
“I would certainly accept with much delight to feed of his rather large legacy” thought Amélie, suppressing the urge of saying something scandalous. “I have naught but the welfare of my daughter at heart. Could such a match further her prospects? I must say that I am distraught that at 25, she has been rather short of suitors.” answered the princess.
“A struggle all parents must live through,” Rohan said with a sigh before adding, “at least those families that count themselves amongst the nobility.” The Prince leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You cannot believe the struggle I’ve gone through to arrange a match for my eldest son, Beau. Not so much as a reply over the course of two years. At least he’s preoccupied with his military career, so finding him a wife is not so pressing a matter yet.”
“It is this spirit of republicanism, I tell you. It is like a curse as been thrown on the noblest of families with the abolition of our titles. Oh Philippe, can you not do something about that?” answered Amélie, taking a sip of her wine. “I am of no mind on this proposal for Bonaparte, but I can discern some benefits should he maintain himself in the public opinion.”
“He is a man with a great reputation, but not a penny to his name, or property for that matter. That is, no property other than which his mistress has granted him.” Philippe replied, not particularly amused about the match the more he thought about it. “I would rather not see my niece destitute after what is to follow. I believe that the restoration of the monarchy is all be assured, and it shan't be an Imperial Restoration.”
“Your brother had not a penny to his name when I agreed to marry him, over the objection of my parents. Last I have looked back, life has not been so unkind to me afterward, wouldn’t you agree, brother?”
“He may possess a great reputation, but is it one you wish your family to be associated with?” Rohan asked. “Keep in mind all that his family has done to France, no, all of Europe. I certainly have not forgotten.”
“Henri had something which Bonaparte shall never have.” Philippe replied, smiling most kindly to his sister-in-law who sought to disagree with him.
Amélie shot back an answer to her cousin Rohan. “I shall never forget. But in this house, we have always refused to visit the sins of the father upon the son, or in this case, the sins of the uncle upon the nephew. Should we derogate from this maxim, I wonder what they will say about my beloved Henri.” She then turned her gaze toward Philippe. “None shall ever compete with Henri, for he was my one true love and I shant love another with such passion. This being said, I am undecided. I assume Charlotte must have a say in the matter, for it is her future. But I do wonder where Bonaparte is going with such an offer...”
“Out the door from whence he came with it.” Philippe replied, without doubt in his voice this time. “You may be undecided, but for this I am not, and Charlotte must have a say, but not in this matter.” Philippe said firmly as he took a sip from the wine, “It would be a marriage of potential disaster for our family, it is not a good match. Two years ago, perhaps, but not today. Bonaparte at best would be President and she would be a First Lady. He has no property, you had, he has no wealthy father who can secure his future, Henri had. It is a poor match, no matter if he has potential. It's too bare, not to mention far too risky prior to this election, an election that could make or break both him and the monarchy.” Philippe sighed briefly, “Or would you have Louis give up his inheritance so that Bonaparte could provide for himself?”
“What say you, my dear cousin” asked Amélie.
“I must agree with Philippe, more for the political dangers than the economic ones,” Rohan said. “We do not know where Bonaparte intends to head, and he may well lead Charlotte down a dangerous path. It would not do to be close to the head of such a controversial political movement, let alone one in opposition to the monarchists. I also fear that it would provide Bonaparte with political fodder to use against us. Marrying the daughter of Armentières, one of the June Monarchy’s most prestigious figures, could be used to cripple the monarchist movement or at least force away some of our support.”
“It is almost settled then. But I shall consult with Charlotte. It is her life we are speaking of after all. She, as any of us, is entitled to her decision, her risks and potentially, her mistakes.”
Philippe finished his glass as he stood up, “She is not. Not in this matter, unless she wishes to run away to England with him. Regardless of her choices and wishes, it is also our duty to ensure that she does not throw her life away.” Philippe sighed once again, “Besides, I heard there is a very appealing match for her, whose last name isn't Bonaparte.”
Amélie, never one to back away from an argument, fired back. “When I married your brother, I was told I was throwing my life away, that it was a mistake. When you launched your campaign for the presidency, the whole of Paris told you it was a mistake. You will excuse me, but Charlotte shall decide, for in this family, mistakes seems to be rather good omen.”
She rose, finishing her glass, and headed toward the exit. She did turn, however “Who would that match of yours be, exactly?”
“A rich young man, early twenties with plenty of estates and a Princely title, the next Duc de Montbazon.” Philippe’s smirk slightly returned as he looked to both of them, Philippe going up to Amélie “The decision with Bonaparte is final, but do sit down, there is plenty to talk about.”
Rohan raised an eyebrow at Philippe’s statement. He had not even thought of such a thing, for he was so close to Amélie and her family that it would be almost like pairing his own children together. Yet his overtures to the Queen Mother of Spain had been ignored and he was getting antsy about securing his family’s legacy. He wasn’t getting any younger, and he wished to ensure the continuation of his line. Perhaps it seemed a foolish thing to focus on, but if there was one thing he cared most about accomplishing before he died, it was securing his family’s future. “I must admit, such thoughts have not crossed my mind before, but I find myself struggling to secure my son’s future. I wish the best for my son.” He looked over at Amélie as she stood by the door. “As you surely wish the best for your daughter.”
Amélie looked amicably to her cousin. “We are both looking for the best for our children. But Philippe, before tossing possible matches in the air in such fashion, do remind yourself that my beloved cousin’s mother is my uncle’s daughter. We are far too close a kin for such a match for our children.”
“Its close, no doubt, but not impossible by any degree.” Philippe reassured her, “It is either right on the edge of being allowed as it stands, and as such we simply must have a Bishop given dispensation.”
“Yes Philippe, it is all as simple as signing a decree or writing to a Bishop.” said Amélie as she left the room.
“I suppose it is something to think about,” Rohan said as Amélie departed. “I would hope it would be considered less scandalous than marrying a Bonaparte, at least.”
“Worry not, I will speak with Amélie, thinking about it it should be fine, the law prohibits within fourth degree, I believe that your children would either be fifth or sixth degree in relation.” Philippe refilled his glass as his finished his sentence. “They are second cousins, which is allowed.”
Rohan tentatively took a sip of wine, having left the drink unattended for the duration of the conversation. He was relieved to finally down some of it without spitting it back up in shock. Such waste of wine that way. “There is no need to worry about such things. I would consider the possibility of a match with Bonaparte the greater threat than any suggestions of incest. In the end, I would never dare force Amélie’s hand. If she wishes her daughter to have a say, then so be it.”
“Just don't tell her that.” The young President smiled, as was getting ready to leave for Saint-Cloud, “So.” Philippe let it hang in the air, “Think I could convince them to give me the Château for my services to France?” He asked, half in jest and half serious.
Rohan rose from his seat, feeling the conversation near its end. “I think a lovely estate is the least you deserve for everything we’ve been put through.” As he walked with Philippe towards the door, he smirked and added, “They should be crowning me Duke of Brittany for the years of my life they’ve drained from me with all these republican antics.”
The duties of the ideal government
A helpful list
By Maréchal de Moncey
The duties of the governmentA helpful list
By Maréchal de Moncey
- Protect the right of an individual to life. Any citizen should not fear for their life, or that of their relatives whenever they are awake of sleeping. Thusly, the state shall protect the lives of the individual citizen so that all can sleep safe.
- Protect the liberty of all. The government should never take measures to decrease the natural freedoms of the human being, and respect these rights. If a government decides to remove these natural rights, they need to be replaced tout de suite.
- To protect the property of the citizens of France. The government should not allow the citizens of France to rob each other of their property at will, and thusly protect the property of the citizens of France, so that all can enjoy their natural freedoms.
Any law made by the legislators cannot defend life, liberty, and property if it promotes legalized plunder, such as taking from the hard working creators of the state, and giving to the parasites, under the threat of violence if the creators refuse to give up their goods freely. This also apply to all socialist policies where they attempt to take away and give to the undeserving masses who are of no need. Policies need to respect the natural rights, life, and property. For if a state creates laws that enable legalized plunder, the state goes against the only things it is supposed to defend, and thus perverts its own existence.
AND SO IT BEGINS...
The First Matches of Organized Choule
_____________________________________________
The First Matches of Organized Choule
_____________________________________________
The two original choule clubs -- S.A. Parisienne (left) and Athletique du Rhin (right).
The first game sees players on both teams begin to come to grips with playing a real match. Fouls are called constantly, but the players begin to get a better sense of play. Jean-Christophe Andrepont (Athletique du Rhin) is the first to down the soule in Parisienne's parish, helping to establish an early lead. After around twenty minutes of play, Athletique has established a lead of 7-3. After the soule hits Antoine Buron (S.A. Parisienne) in the head, he catches it, stops in his tracks, and throws a forward pass. The soule is caught by Henri Campeau (S.A. Parisienne), who downs it in Athletique's parish. By the time the first hour of gameplay is concluded, both teams are winded. While the ability to substitute players in and out has reduced fatigue, the constancy of play still wears down the players. Athletique secures a lead of 13-8. In an impressive display, Parisienne attempts to rally to victory, but when their captain, Jean Gallet (S.A. Parisienne), is injured, they lose their momentum. Athletique scores the two last points which it requires to achieve victory. Athletique du Rhin wins, 15-12.
The second game, played a few days later, shows a further refinement of the game. Before beginning, Bonaparte and Deflandre agree to allow for a break when one of the teams first reaches seven points. As Parisienne lost the previous match, they are entitled to first pitch, which they capitalize on. The game is close, with Adolphe Gardinier (Athletique du Rhin) emerging as a clear leader among his teammates. On one notable occasion, however, as he goes to put down the soule, Buron (S.A. Parisienne) bumps him with his shoulder, causing the soule to bounce into the area behind Parisienne's parish. By using this technique on a few more occasions, Parisienne is able to slow down Athletique's offense enough that it can pull ahead. S.A. Parisienne wins, 15-11.
The third game of the series carries high stakes. It has been claimed that more than 1000 francs were bet on the outcome of the match, although Deflandre was quick to discourage onlookers from gambling. The third game would be the most impressive of the three, with both teams beginning to utilize basic strategies in their play, rather than the confusion seen in the prior two games. Athletique plays with a very aggressive offense, attempting to outmaneuver the defensive strategies preferred by Parisienne in the previous game. Gardinier (Athletique du Rhin) plays an especially important part in this offense, which takes the appearance of a sprint more than a traditional ballgame. He repeatedly kicks the soule deep, where his teammates are stationed. Through this method, Athletique secures an early lead of 6-2, although it begins to lose steam after Gardinier's right foot is injured. Parisienne is committed primarily to a passing-based offense, using only short kicks to hold on to the soule. The winning score of the game is made by Gallet (S.A. Parisienne), who trips and falls on the soule in order to keep it from moving. S.A. Parisienne wins, 15-10.
Last edited:
((@ThaHoward))
To M. Jérôme de Lécuyer,
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance at your late brother's funeral. I was a great admirer of your brother and it was a wonder to hear him speak at the Coalition Napoleoniene. He was truly a great servant of France and his battlefield heroics, contributions to military theory, and belief in liberal order shall surely be remembered throughout the ages while his memory should be revered just like your father's. France mourns his loss and his death was a terrible tragedy and the fiends that committed the act shall rot in Hell for eternity.
I would like, if you would be so kind as to oblige me, to further make your acquaintance. Currently I am spending most of my time at the Hotel du Rhin and it would bring me the greatest joy if you would attend a social event and engage in conversation with me there. I could also take the opportunity to introduce you to other acquaintances if you would feel comfortable meeting them.
May God bless you and watch over your family. The coming days will be perilous and I wish you the best of fortune.
Sincerely,
M. Jean Francois Domadeaux
To M. Jérôme de Lécuyer,
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance at your late brother's funeral. I was a great admirer of your brother and it was a wonder to hear him speak at the Coalition Napoleoniene. He was truly a great servant of France and his battlefield heroics, contributions to military theory, and belief in liberal order shall surely be remembered throughout the ages while his memory should be revered just like your father's. France mourns his loss and his death was a terrible tragedy and the fiends that committed the act shall rot in Hell for eternity.
I would like, if you would be so kind as to oblige me, to further make your acquaintance. Currently I am spending most of my time at the Hotel du Rhin and it would bring me the greatest joy if you would attend a social event and engage in conversation with me there. I could also take the opportunity to introduce you to other acquaintances if you would feel comfortable meeting them.
May God bless you and watch over your family. The coming days will be perilous and I wish you the best of fortune.
Sincerely,
M. Jean Francois Domadeaux
(Apologies for the delay, work and life got in the way. Will post IC and vote before the deadline at 5 tonight.)
The Coastal Plains of Algeria, 1852
An Open Letter to France's and Europe's Business Community
It has been over 20 years since Algeria first came under French dominion, and it has prospered. Under the influence of the Christian ethic of humanity and hard work, the native Mohammedeans have begun working ever harder to better themselves and their communities, and some have even embraced the gospel. Meanwhile, foreign investment has built roads, mines, plantations, and other investments that have made Algeria a productive part of France, striving together as part of a wider whole. My own personal investments in Algeria have paid off substantially, and my Algerian Improvement Company has notably increased its profits, but there is still much work to be done, and profit to be made by the bold and inspiring businessman. From the mountains of the interior, brimming with untapped mineral potential, to the plantations of the coast, producing bales of cotton and other raw materials for Europe's brimming industry, Algeria still is a prime venue for investment, and I urge all of those wishing to increase their own personal holdings to invest with myself, so that we may be partners in the transformation of Algeria into the shining jewel in Europe's crown.The Coastal Plains of Algeria, 1852
An Open Letter to France's and Europe's Business Community
M. Jean Francois Domadeaux,
Your considerate words on my brothers legacy and attendance to his memorial help to alleviate our family's sorrow.
Personally I am greatly honored by your outreach and will make a visit to Hotel du Rhin, to meet you and thank you in person. Feel free to introduce me to your acquaintances.
May God bless you and your family as well.
Kind regards,
Jérôme de Lécuyer.
Jean-Louis de Lécuyer recieved the letter, the Lécuyer Company having substantial investments in Algeria he advised his twin to make investments into the Algerian Investment Company. Jérôme approved and Jean-Louis would set up an appointment with the head of the Algerian Investment Company to hammer out a mutual beneficial deal.
The Hubris of the Liberal free traders
Those unfortunate enough to have read Le Courrier Français recently may have had the terrible misfortune to have stumbled across an article by Deflandre, the one time failed revolutionary and two times failed politician.
This man, who presided over a provisional government that did nothing to lower taxes, declares that the current Tariffs are oppressive. He declares that while he loves his French industries, he wouldn't actually lift a finger to help them, instead he places his unquestioning confidence and loyalty into ‘the market’. I have the utmost confidence in the French spirit winning through in the end, the spirit which conquered Europe and the spirit that today protects this nation from foreign incursion. However, victory while a simple recipe is difficult to correctly prepare. Victory in my experience has been one part preparation and one part Spirit.
Deflandre would cast out the French farmer and worker into the fight without letting him first prepare, and compete on an open playing field. The most well-bred horse, with the highest potential, would not be thrown into its first competition, led by a first-time rider and not knowing what to expect. Why it'd be absurd. Deflandre is positioning himself, through his childish cartoons and facetious comments to be that rider. For him the position of that stallion, its potential is utterly unimportant, all that matters is the rush of thinking he can control the beast. He doesn't care if he places France in the last place, for even the jockey who finishes last still has his name written in the history books. Deflandre is a man who has no legacy, a man whose achievements are as numerous as fish that can walk or Cows that can talk. A man who has jockeyed for power, again and again, only to fall at the first hurdle, proof indeed that natural talent can't be supplanted by cheap tricks and effort.
This is what Free trade really is, a political ploy. One that offers the reader the sun and stars when it is time to vote, only to quickly fade into obscurity when action is required. Indeed, Deflandre declares that ‘France cannot survive with such high tariffs’, this man who would rather spend a centime less buying his bread from the British, filling their coffers over offering employment to French Farmers. He declares that if Tariffs stay so high, all land in France will be used for agriculture, yet he presided over numerous bills that have resulted in record rates of land being used for agriculture. He, again and again, offers problems, often ones only he can identify, seemingly passing over the greatest minds of this nation. However, he doesn't once offer a solution beyond ‘Free Trade’. These demands are premature, for the French economy needs time to prepare for its domination of the European Market, after 5 years of economic preparation, and tariffs to allow for the build-up of industry, there can be no doubt in any sane man’s mind that the French economy will Sweep Europe, and with Europe the world.
~Auberjonois
Le Reforme
Louis-Alexandre Clement
Louis-Alexandre Clement
I must take to these pages again for the Republic is at risk. The Monarchists have united to bring down the Republic. The President has currently betrayed the office and Republic he swore to protect. Now, he also schemes to destroy the Republic. The Revolution must be defended, yet not in the streets. It must, and will be, defended in the Ballot Box.
The survival of the Republic is vital. It offers the opportunity for all men to have a chance in society. It offers the French people a chance to elect a government that cares for them. A France that works for all.
Only a fool or liar would deny that the Second Republic has not been a turbulent time. Yet, it has also showed great promise. All men in France have a chance to weigh in their future. For a time the government ran workshops that gave the people of France work. It has reformed the forests that deprive communities of the timber they need. It has protected the rights and liberties of countless citizens. This is the Republic. This is what the monarchists want to destroy. They care not about stability beyond what ensures they can keep their aristocratic positions. They do not care about the people of France. Together the people of France can beat them! The people of France can elect an Assembly to create a better constitution! Vote! Vive la Revolution!
Lécaude, Normandie
Merivée was, despite himself, enjoying his self-imposed exile from the capital. His work at Caen, only a day's unhurried ride to the west, had been keeping him occupied even after the mess of his departure from the légitimiste inner circle. The family home was a farmhouse in the traditional Norman manner – all exposed beams and uneven faces. Merivée preferred it to his more polite Parisian hôtel, built with what money his wife had received after the death of her father, the Duke of Montmorency-Laval. At the time, the construction of that house had been a great declaration: the arrival of Merivée the political actor, born anew after several years of apprenticeship as a functionary and jobbing journalist. To Merivée, it did not matter that his wife, illegitimate, would never be fully accepted by the polite society in which he would soon be moving. He had married the daughter of his first patron, and along with a suitably affectionate match he had positioned himself at least somewhere within the general consciousness.
Thirty years later, Merivée could barely stomach how naïve this all seemed. Of course, in the interim he had indeed found himself positioned within polite society – and quite nicely at that. But having come to detest the ambition of the political climber, he found he could no longer relate to that young man who had come to Paris in search of big things. As for his marriage, he had been very happy – and his children could state in all truthfulness that they had a duke for a grandfather – but that was that. It simply was, a rare constant in a life of variables.
The Norman farmhouse represented none of this. In many ways, it opposed the parvenu existence Merivée had come to resent. Before, it had belonged to his older brother Georges, who had taken up the family mantle of the life of the gentleman farmer. But Georges had died of a stroke two years before. And having had only daughters, who were themselves safely married into the Norman gentry and thus in no need of a share of an old farmhouse, it had reverted to the younger M. Merivée. Thus Esmé, whose own interest in land was always more academic, became the latest Merivée of Lécaude, extending a little further a line that reached back to Richelieu's time and beyond.
Thusly placed, la famille Merivée was of solid yeoman stock. During the Revolution, an eccentric great-uncle had adopted the style ‘Seigneur du Mesnil’ in defiance of the Jacobin regime, claiming to be reviving an old and rightful title, but this was generally humoured as a symbolic act. Many years later, Esmé was surprised to learn that one Michel de Merivé (1619–1673) had indeed been granted land at Le Mesnil-Simon in recognition of services rendered. But the estate had long since been split up and the seigneurship had fallen with it into extinction.
It occurred to Esmé that uncles seemed forever to be dragging his family out of their rustic complacency. As a boy, his mother's brother Jean-Louis had single-handedly plucked Esmé from penury and afforded him a legal education. Later, it was his reference that had opened the door to a position working for Montmorency-Laval. The elder lawyer had died in his eighties some years ago, though he had been living with worsened faculties for much of his last decade. Esmé, almost involuntarily, uttered a short prayer for his memory. All this, really, was his.
Esme's children were symbols of all that had changed for the family. Their cousins were mostly spread out, happy and untested, across northern France. None, to Esmé's knowledge, had attained a particularly distinguished education, though one had followed into legitimist politics at a local level and another, bizarrely, was the nephew of a vicomte. Meanwhile, Esmé's daughter Marie-Joséphine had a decidedly urban tendency and had seen the capitals of England and Austria. His son Emmanuel had taken a degree in natural philosophy at the University of Cambridge. None of this was better, of course, only different. And Esmé found its difference fascinating.
Merivée turned his thinking a little further towards natural philosophy. He was by no means so practically-minded a man, but his upcoming trip to England would have much of the practical about it. His friend and host William ‘Harty’ Cavendish, 6th Duke of Devonshire was a famous amateur of the study of nature, and his insights into natural systems would no doubt richly complement Merivée's own conclusions on the social. Harty had already met Emmanuel four years ago at Houghton. They had seemed then to have had much in common in the interests, and Esmé wondered whether his son might not enjoy accompanying him to Chatsworth. He would write to Harty and ask.
In the meantime, he would return to his reading. Today it was Von Humboldt's Kosmos, whose immense volumes were appearing apace. His holistic approach to natural enquiry thrilled Merivée, who had in his own work come to draw from a unity of historical, socio-political and philosophical study. This was an accident of necessity, and it seemed only natural to the younger academic that the physical universe was equally interwoven. No system can exist without outside influence, else it will stagnate and die. And everywhere did this law prove true.
Merivée was, despite himself, enjoying his self-imposed exile from the capital. His work at Caen, only a day's unhurried ride to the west, had been keeping him occupied even after the mess of his departure from the légitimiste inner circle. The family home was a farmhouse in the traditional Norman manner – all exposed beams and uneven faces. Merivée preferred it to his more polite Parisian hôtel, built with what money his wife had received after the death of her father, the Duke of Montmorency-Laval. At the time, the construction of that house had been a great declaration: the arrival of Merivée the political actor, born anew after several years of apprenticeship as a functionary and jobbing journalist. To Merivée, it did not matter that his wife, illegitimate, would never be fully accepted by the polite society in which he would soon be moving. He had married the daughter of his first patron, and along with a suitably affectionate match he had positioned himself at least somewhere within the general consciousness.
Thirty years later, Merivée could barely stomach how naïve this all seemed. Of course, in the interim he had indeed found himself positioned within polite society – and quite nicely at that. But having come to detest the ambition of the political climber, he found he could no longer relate to that young man who had come to Paris in search of big things. As for his marriage, he had been very happy – and his children could state in all truthfulness that they had a duke for a grandfather – but that was that. It simply was, a rare constant in a life of variables.
The Norman farmhouse represented none of this. In many ways, it opposed the parvenu existence Merivée had come to resent. Before, it had belonged to his older brother Georges, who had taken up the family mantle of the life of the gentleman farmer. But Georges had died of a stroke two years before. And having had only daughters, who were themselves safely married into the Norman gentry and thus in no need of a share of an old farmhouse, it had reverted to the younger M. Merivée. Thus Esmé, whose own interest in land was always more academic, became the latest Merivée of Lécaude, extending a little further a line that reached back to Richelieu's time and beyond.
Thusly placed, la famille Merivée was of solid yeoman stock. During the Revolution, an eccentric great-uncle had adopted the style ‘Seigneur du Mesnil’ in defiance of the Jacobin regime, claiming to be reviving an old and rightful title, but this was generally humoured as a symbolic act. Many years later, Esmé was surprised to learn that one Michel de Merivé (1619–1673) had indeed been granted land at Le Mesnil-Simon in recognition of services rendered. But the estate had long since been split up and the seigneurship had fallen with it into extinction.
It occurred to Esmé that uncles seemed forever to be dragging his family out of their rustic complacency. As a boy, his mother's brother Jean-Louis had single-handedly plucked Esmé from penury and afforded him a legal education. Later, it was his reference that had opened the door to a position working for Montmorency-Laval. The elder lawyer had died in his eighties some years ago, though he had been living with worsened faculties for much of his last decade. Esmé, almost involuntarily, uttered a short prayer for his memory. All this, really, was his.
Esme's children were symbols of all that had changed for the family. Their cousins were mostly spread out, happy and untested, across northern France. None, to Esmé's knowledge, had attained a particularly distinguished education, though one had followed into legitimist politics at a local level and another, bizarrely, was the nephew of a vicomte. Meanwhile, Esmé's daughter Marie-Joséphine had a decidedly urban tendency and had seen the capitals of England and Austria. His son Emmanuel had taken a degree in natural philosophy at the University of Cambridge. None of this was better, of course, only different. And Esmé found its difference fascinating.
Merivée turned his thinking a little further towards natural philosophy. He was by no means so practically-minded a man, but his upcoming trip to England would have much of the practical about it. His friend and host William ‘Harty’ Cavendish, 6th Duke of Devonshire was a famous amateur of the study of nature, and his insights into natural systems would no doubt richly complement Merivée's own conclusions on the social. Harty had already met Emmanuel four years ago at Houghton. They had seemed then to have had much in common in the interests, and Esmé wondered whether his son might not enjoy accompanying him to Chatsworth. He would write to Harty and ask.
In the meantime, he would return to his reading. Today it was Von Humboldt's Kosmos, whose immense volumes were appearing apace. His holistic approach to natural enquiry thrilled Merivée, who had in his own work come to draw from a unity of historical, socio-political and philosophical study. This was an accident of necessity, and it seemed only natural to the younger academic that the physical universe was equally interwoven. No system can exist without outside influence, else it will stagnate and die. And everywhere did this law prove true.
There was nothing quite as a military parade, all the pomp and all the glory. Jérôme was anxious over the weather, the last days had seen clouds and rainy November weather. The more paranoid colleagues of Jérôme compared it to the gathering cloud of the French Republic before it burst into another storm. Sundays were perfect for military parades, the good people of Paris and the Seine was at home observing the day of rest. That meant the curios and patriotic citizens of Seine alike would come to the streets to observe the grand parade. But if the weather turned sour the good people would not take it to the streets to see the happening of the month. Jérôme was at first worried as the weather indeed did not seem to clear up, but as the hours passed and the parade was about to start, the skies cleared up. As if it was by providence. The people of Seine streamed into the streets all along the designated parade route.
Jérôme assumed the President requested the Parade to be on this particular Sunday, as the election was on the coming Tuesday. Parades had a way of increasing patriotic fervour among the populace, and in turn their loyalty to the regime. It was also in several ways a show of force, even if it was not intended to be so, where the forces of Order was in its full glory and might, revealed for all to see. Where the President surely basked in the glory, radical elements might have believed this was yet another attempt of bullying from Changarnier, to show his true power in the form of the regiments of the Seine Army and the legions of the National Guard. But Changarnier did bask in the glory, it was indeed a show of force and glory, one that only underline his true powers in Seine and only increased his personal prestige. No matter the true intentions behind the parade it was spectacular, filling the otherwise somber November weather and darkness with an event to remember full of the regimental colors of the French Armed Forces.
The Parade itself would cut its way through the center of Paris with all the regiments and legions that took part in surpressing the June Days would recieve a position in the column. The 2nd Dragoon Regiment, also known as the "Condé-Dragons", would parade its full regimental strength. The Condé-Dragons was meant to lead the parade to honor their part in quelling the June Uprising, and it was a fitting nod to the President. The other regiments would have a selected detachments from their regiment to showcase the splendor, glory and traditions of their regiment. The National and Mobile Guards would also present honor units from each of their Legions.
Security was of utmost importance, not only to handle the expected flood of civilians, but also in case radicals and potential terrorists got foul ideas. Members of the Army, National and Mobile Gurads would form honor guards along the avenue of the parade, while the Mobile and National Guards would patrol the nearby streets itself. Menawhile the 5th Hussars, and 6th, 79th an 89th Infantrists would be stationed on alert to move out rapidly if needed.
The "grandé-finale" of some sorts would take place outside of École Militaire which was the point where the paraders converged. The whole of the Condé-Dragons lined up in an open square at the place below the military school, while the other paraders slowly filled in. Each of their regiments would play their marches in turn (and during the many stops on the way they would hold small shows in front of the audience) and show off their regimental traditions and honours.
The Military School itself would have the most central military commanders and promiment politcians at front, among them General Changarnier, the President, General Duvivier and General Lamorciere, while oppositional politicians was sidelined and had to watch in awe over the loyalty of the Armed Forces of Seine. The message was quite clear. Louis-Napoleon was among the spectators at the Military School. While the Marche de Condé Dragons played General Changarnier rose up and demanded their intention. The 2nd Dragoons answered first by their motto, Da materiam splendescam, it was then deemed the 2nd Dragoons had shone in their protection of the nation. They were then expected to make a report, and they then reported in the demise of both General Damense and General Bréa, the names of their fallen senior officers and the total casualty rate of the Condé-Dragons. Changarnier then thanked them for their service, and the Dragoons stood in attention. After the Condé-Dragons the 1st Cuirassier Regiment, the knights of the modern age, followed in. They were the Iron Regiment, and their March was quite impressive, giving honor to their nickname. Their motto was "It shows the right path" the Iron Regiment was indeed true knights of the modern age.
Other elements of the various regiments followed, Jérôme was proud to see his dear 14th as they entered and shouted "Brave!" which was their slogan. The 14th had done their service to Seine, and as they had served during two insurrections they were expected to soon rotate back to Toulouse, but first they had to serve their time in Paris and wait for the election and instability to come to an end. They followed in the same tradition as the 2nd Dragoons.
Each of the Legions and Regiments did the same dsiplay of force, playing their march, saying their slogan and giving their casualty report. A somber reminder of the true sacrifice among the Soldiers and Guardsmen of France, and how tall their losses was to protect the Republic. Jérôme recognized several of the regiments. The 4th Infantry Regiment - "the Impetuous". The 32nd - the Invincible. The 69th whose motto could be interpertated in two ways as it said Qui s'y frotte s'y pique, "If you go looking for trouble you'll find it". The 99th whose motto and intention was simple, but it defined the very spirit of modern France and why the men of the Armed fought, and what they fought to preserve during the Insurrection, to "Be free". Last of many regiments and legions to arrive was the 3rd Dragoon Regiment who did not fight inside of Paris itself, but made a crucial contribution in Chatou, their statement was "he burns, he dares".
After all of the regiments and legions was amassed in front of the Military School, there was various speeches by notable politicians and military figures, the glory of Changarnier grew, the order and liberty of France was for all to see, preserved by the current regime and its soldiers. It was then ceremonies where the President and Changarnier granted General Damense and Archbishop Affre recieved the highest order of the Legion of Honor posthumously. Others was also given the Legion of Honor, either for their first time or a "promotion", but most of them had already served for around 20 years or more. Others were given personal commendations.
The parade lasted for the entire day and it was the main event of the day, and perhaps even the week a nice break from the hectic election. Haven recieved food and non-alcoholic beverage from the Army and the Guards and been given quite a show the people were hoped to be content as they walked home again.
Another election. Another tedious round of campaigning. When would it ever end?
Yet Domadeaux performed his duties.
Much of his efforts were focused on Paris and mobilizing the working class for the election. The Coalition Napolienne handed out pamphlets, hung posters, distributed (rather wretched in his opinion) political cartoons, and made speeches reminding the people of Paris who shot them and who tried to make peace. They then recruited people for the ball game or whatever it was and, to Domadeaux's surprise, it turned out to be a massive success (though Domadeaux still did not understand the fascination with it).
Afterwards he got a break from the wretched confines of Paris when he took a brief tour to his native department in Herault with a brief stop in Beziers. He then toured the countryside in the Provence area, emphasizing Bonapartist support for farmers in the legislature and promising a return to stability that would also protect the material gains the rural poor had made.
Finally, one last push in Paris. The campaigning, to Domadeaux's mild annoyance, was getting hysterical, though he supposed it was natural given the stakes. He penned a few newspaper articles and tried to speak to every Parisian he could possibly reach.
As the polls opened there was nothing more he could do now. It was in the people's hands.
Yet Domadeaux performed his duties.
Much of his efforts were focused on Paris and mobilizing the working class for the election. The Coalition Napolienne handed out pamphlets, hung posters, distributed (rather wretched in his opinion) political cartoons, and made speeches reminding the people of Paris who shot them and who tried to make peace. They then recruited people for the ball game or whatever it was and, to Domadeaux's surprise, it turned out to be a massive success (though Domadeaux still did not understand the fascination with it).
Afterwards he got a break from the wretched confines of Paris when he took a brief tour to his native department in Herault with a brief stop in Beziers. He then toured the countryside in the Provence area, emphasizing Bonapartist support for farmers in the legislature and promising a return to stability that would also protect the material gains the rural poor had made.
Finally, one last push in Paris. The campaigning, to Domadeaux's mild annoyance, was getting hysterical, though he supposed it was natural given the stakes. He penned a few newspaper articles and tried to speak to every Parisian he could possibly reach.
As the polls opened there was nothing more he could do now. It was in the people's hands.
The Last Sunday Before the Election, An Open Letter Appeared in Most of France's Major Newspapers
~Alain Solvay
Christian Liberty
It is no secret that many sincere and devout Christians are Conservatives. It is seen by all that many Christians believe the Conservative cause to be wedded to Christianity, and that many believe Liberals are godless Atheists. Many believe that the only true champion of Christianity is a monarch. Many Christians believe that Liberty as expressed in the Liberal dream is incompatible with Christianity. All of these are untrue. In fact the Conservatives, albeit with good intentions, are the ones who threaten the purity of Christianity. Christianity is at its purist and most godly separated from the state. The church and state operate in wholly separate spheres of life. The co-mingling of church and state corrupts the very fabric church and leaves it subordinate to secular concerns. This has been true throughout our history, with stories of bishops driven mad with secular power and Popes forced to bend the knee to kings, and Papal elections even bought with banker gold for the basest of motives. This corruption of the church led to the Reformation, and the dragging of the church into secular affairs continually pollutes the soul of Christianity. I implore all God-fearing Christians of France, every member of the faith, to vote based on what is right and what guarantees your liberty, not on an imagined threat to your soul whose solution will only taint our faith further. The separation of church and state is the only way the Church can remain pure and serve its worshipers properly. I support this separation for the sake of my own faith in God, and for the faith of all God-Fearing righteous citizens.
~Alain Solvay
Ballot: Republican (Girondin)
[Senate]
[Sambre-et-Meuse]
[No Bonus]
-Alain Solvay
[Senate]
[Sambre-et-Meuse]
[No Bonus]
-Alain Solvay