CZM Book Club: The Storming of the Bastille, by Alexandre Dumas

0:01 Cool Zone Media.

0:06 Hello, and welcome to coles On Media book Club, the only book club where you don't have to do the reading because I do it for you. I'm your host, Margaret Kiljoy. And this week two special things are going to happen. One, we are going to continue our loose Black August theme and truth be told, It's going to be a little looser this week than others, but I still think this is an interesting episode and I think you'll think it's interesting too, as we read a black author talking about tearing down a prison. Just a really old story and a really French story, which brings me to the second point. The second interesting thing about this episode is I am bad at French. I used to take pride in this, which was a foolish idea, and

0:52 then I spent a while in France and I realized I'm bad at looking at French words and figuring out which of the letters are actually in the word. I'm not good at it. Hazel, who helps me with the scripts, did put in pronunciation notes. So anything I get right is thanks to Hazel. Anything I get wrong is thanks to me. But if you're thinking an old story by a black author about destroying prison in French, and you are thinking, is it Alexander Duma, Then you would be thinking right now if you weren't an insufferable sixth grader like I was, who bragged your classmates about having read The Three Musketeers and was like, hi, I read a six hundred or eight hundred page book or whatever. If you're not that kind of person, you haven't read The

1:45 Three Musketeers. Maybe you have heard of his other famous novel. Duma's other famous novel, The Count of Monte Cristo, which is featured prominently in Viva Vendetta. Duma is best known for French adventure romances from the eighteen hundred, mostly about revenge and political intrigue. But unlike a lot of other people known for similar bodies of work, Duma was black or mixed race to be more specific. Alexander was born in France to a middle class family, though his paternal grandmother was Maria Sissett Duma, an enslaved woman who was owned by Alexander's grandfather and what is now Haiti. Alexander's father, Maria Sissett's son was named Thomas Alexander Duma, and is interesting in his own right. He was a soldier in

2:32 the French army during the French Revolution and was appointed to second in command in the Legion of Free Men of Color. I think this is the guy that came up in some Cool People episode where I talked about Napoleon. Why the fuck did I talk about Napoleon. It might have been the Haiti episodes. I don't know. And how this man, despite leading an incredibly important part of Napoleon's armies, he still faced racial discrimination while he was a general.

3:00 But we're not talking about him. We're talking about his son, Alexandre Duma, who obviously occupies a complicated and nuanced place in the Francophone imagination. And when I say Francophone, I don't just mean like a banana phone, but France or French speaking, but instead the wider French speaking parts of the world outside of France, places like Haiti or Algeria or Senegal, places that have been indelibly marked by the legacy of French colonialism and hidle slavery. Duma's life and writings were undoubtedly impacted by his experiences with racial prejudice, even though he's mostly not remembered this way. I think the average person doesn't know that he is a person of color. In the introduction to Black Musketeer, author Eric

3:47 Marton argues that in the latter half of the nineteenth century, in the first half of the twentieth, Duma's heritage was downplayed by critics who were uncomfortable discussing racialization, as well as by pundit were interested in constructing a French national identity, one built on classic novels like The Three Musketeers, but also one unmarked by race. During the Decolonial era, when previously held French colonies were winning independence, scholars started paying more attention to Dema's heritage, and in particular to an early novel of his called Georges or George or Something.

4:25 That story follows a mixed race planter in what is now Mauritius as he betrays the white upper class to participate in a slaver vault, and is arguably one of the first anti slavery novels to have been written by a person of color. In the preface to the nineteen ninety eight edition, Calithe Bayala argues that we should remember Dumas as quote a hero for oppressed colonial subjects and their descendants and Marton from Black Musketeer says this about that preface. It quote established Dumas as a writer who expressed solidarity with the African diaspor as a victim of racism who responded by forming pride in his blackness and cultural hybridity, and as a forerunner to later literary traditions in Francophone Africa and the Caribbean. Duma wrote prolifically, prolifically,

5:17 and most of what he wrote has much more to do with the French Revolution and his aftermath. And that's the kind of story we have for you today, the French Revolution and its aftermath. Our story this week is a fictionalization of the storming of the Bastille or the Bastille if we're being French about it. But I'm going to say Bastille because I'm an American and aforementioned not good at French. But all of these things, including me being bad at French, really happened. And most of the people, including me, I'm not in this story, but why not, are real people. In seventeen eighty nine, a riot made up of nearly one thousand defecting soldiers and common people took control of the best Steele, there's a prison that

6:00 looked like a castle, and they let all the prisoners go free, even though the building wasn't particularly well guarded. It was only protected by a garrison of older French soldiers and Swiss mercenaries, and only seven people were still imprisoned there. It was seen as a representation of royal authority and abuse of power. And I love this because it's just to like no, like, as I mentioned in the episodes that are coming out next week on Cool People did Cool stuff. You know, there's the whole Eugene Debs quote that, well, there's a soul in prison. I am in prison too. His quote's correct, mind's not because I don't have description in front of me for that.

6:38 But this is where like upper class prisoners were held, seven of them, and they're like, we will die to destroy this symbol of power. This is the famous prison, right, so we're going to destroy the famous prison because fuck the famous prison. We will destroy it and that rule. I'm not a huge French revolution fan. It's like not in my top tier of revolutions. I'm kind of cynical and a lot of the revolutions, but Bestille Day and the Storming of the Bastille really does it for me, like, just what a beautiful act of solidarity. So for this Black August, I hope you enjoy the Storming of the Bestille by Alexander Duma. It's a story about destroying a prison and tearing down authority. It's a story about the

7:27 fervor of revolution and the power of the collective. And it's a story about how reason and solidarity will always overpower entrenched aristocratic control. And we are reading an uncredited translation from nineteen twenty published by Walter J. Black Company, And this story was abridged for time, so if you want to read the whole thing, you can find it on the Internet archive in short Stories by Alexander Duma.

7:51 But yeah, it's also a story where I'm going to resist the temptation of giving any of them ridiculous French accents. But I'll have you know it's only because I'm not good enough at accents to give them ridiculous French accents. I wish that I could. Storming the Bastille by Alexander Dumat. This inner yard, the Bastille in Paris was the prisoner's exercise ground. Eight giant towers guarded it. No window opened into it, the sun never penetrated its well like circuit.

8:26 Where the pavement was damp almost muddy. Here a clock, the face upheld by chained captives and carving, dropped the seconds like water oozing through a ceiling. On the dungeon slabs at the bottom of this pit. The prisoner lost in the stony gulf would glance up at the inexeparable nakedness and sue to be led back.

8:48 To his cell.

8:50 Governor Lulay Commander was about fifty years of age. He wore a gray linsey woolsey suit this day. It was crossed by a red sash of the Order of San Luis, and he carried a sword cane.

9:05 He was a bad man.

9:07 Linguey's memoirs had just shown him up in a sad light, and he was hated almost as much as the jail. His father had been governor before him. In the way of meanness, lou Lay outdid his foregoers. He may have had to pay more highly for the post than his father, and so had to put on the screw to retrieve his outlay. He fed his household out of the prisoner's rations.

9:32 Maybe he foresaw that he was not to enjoy the birth long. The officials tried to make all the money they could squeeze out of the prisoners and their friends. The governor chief warder doubled his sixty thousand francs appointments by extortion. The prisoners had one relief, one pleasure, a little garden made on a bastion, where they got a whiff of sweet air and saw flowers and grass and sunshine.

9:58 Lou Lay lent this out a truck gardener, robbing the prisoners for fifty livers a year. On the other hand, he was yielding to rich captives. He let one furnish his room in his own style and have any visitors he liked. For all this, Lulay was brave. He might be pale, but he was calm. Although the storm had raged against him from the previous evening, he felt aware of the riot becoming a revolt, for the waves broke at the foot of his castle wall. It is true that he had four cannon and a garrison of old soldiers and Swiss, with only one unarmed man now confronting him.

10:40 That unarmed man was Beya, farmer and leader of revolutionists. When entering the stronghold, he understood that a weapon might get him in trouble. Beyond the barrier. With a glance, he remarked everything, the governor's calm and menacing attitude, the Swiss ranked in the guard houses, the veterans on the place, and the silent bustle of the artillerists loading up their quissons with ammunition. As the commander stood still, Bille was obliged to go to him. The grating closed behind the People's parliamentarian with an ugly grinding of metal on metal, which made him shudder to the marrow.

11:19 Brave though he was.

11:22 What do you want, challenged lu Lay, I come on, behalf of the people, rejoined the visitor proudly. That is all very well, sneered Lulay, smiling. But you must have shown some other warrant, for otherwise you would not have passed the first dead line of centuries. True, I have a pass from your friend Flaselle, Lord Provost. Bille presented the paper, which Lulay read more than once in order to catch a hidden meaning or concealed lines. He even held it up to the light to see if there was secret writing.

11:59 Is that all?

12:00 Are you perfectly sure? Nothing by word of mouth. In addition, not a bit strange, said Lulay, plunging his glance by a loophole on Bastille square. Then tell me your want and be quick. The people want you to give up the bastille. What do you say, cried Lulay, turning quickly as if he must be mistaken in his hearing. I summon you, in the people's name, to give up the bastille.

12:26 Queer animals the people, sneered Lulay, snapping his fingers. What do they want with the bastille to demolish it? Why? What the mischief? Is the bestille to the people? Is any common man ever shut up here? In Why the people ought to bless every stone of the bastille? Who are locked up here? Philosophers, learned men, aristocrats, statesmen, princes, all the enemies of the dregs. This only proves that the people are not selfish and want to do good to others. It is plain you are not a soldier, my friend, said the other, with a kind of pity.

13:04 It is true. And come fresh from the country, for you do not know what the Bastille is. Come with me and I will show you. He is gonna pull the string of some trap which will open beneath my feet, thought the adventurer, and then goodbye old Ba. But he was intrepid and did not WinCE as he prepared to accede the invitation in the first place, continued Lulay. It is well known that I have enough powder in the store to blow up the castle and lay half the suburbs and ashes. I knew that with the trenquill. Reply, do you see these cannon and by two ditches, only to be crossed by drawbridges. Lastly, there's a porcholis. Oh.

13:48 I am not saying that the bastille will be badly defended, but that it will be well attacked. Observe the thickness of the walls forty feet here and fifteen above. You see that though the people have nails, they will break against such walls. I am not saying that the people will demolish the bastille to master it, but that having mastered it, they will demolish it, said the leader of the revolutionists. Let's go upstairs, said the governor, leading up thirty steps, where he paused to say, this embrasure is defended by one rampart gun but it enjoys a fair reputation.

14:28 You know the song, oh my sweet voiced sackbut I love your dear song. Marshall Sacks called this gun his sack butt, because it's saying the only music he cared anything for.

14:43 This is a historical fact.

14:46 But let us go on, oh said Ba, When upon the tower top, you have not dismounted the cannon, but merely drawn them in. I shall have to tell the people. So the cannon were mounted here by the king's and by that alone can they be dismounted. Governor Lulay returned Ba, feeling himself rise to the level of the emergency. The true sovereign is yonder, and I counsel you to obey it.

15:14 He pointed to the gray looking masses, spotted with blood from the battling and reflecting the dying sunlight on their weapons, up to the very moats. Friend, a man cannot know two masters, replied the royalist, holding his head up haughtily, I the governor of the Bastille. No but one the sixteenth Louis who made me the commander over men and material?

15:39 Here are you not a French citizen, demanded Ba warmly. I am a French nobleman, said the Count of Loulay. Well, I am a citizen, went on Ba, and as my duty as such as opposed to yours, in the King's soldier, one of us must die. He who fulfills his orders or duties.

16:01 That is likely, sir.

16:04 So are you determined to fire on the people? Not unless I am fired at. I pledged myself to that effect to Lord Provost Fessier's deputation. You see, the guns have been retired, but at first shot I will roll say this one forward out of the embrasure with my own hands, train it and point it, and fire with the slow match.

16:26 You see there.

16:28 If I believed that, said Ba, before you could commit such a crime, I have told you that I am a soldier and know nothing outside my orders. Then look, said Ba, drawing lou Lay to the gap in the battlements and pointing alternately between two different directions, the main street from the town and the street through the suburbs.

16:49 Behold those who will henceforth give you orders. Lulay saw two black, dense, roaring bodies, undulating like snakes, with head and bodies in sight, but the rear most coil still waving onwards till lost in the hollows of the ground. All the bodies of these immense reptiles glittered with the scales. These were the two armies to which Bia had given the Bastille as the meeting place, Mare's men and Gauchamp's Paris beggars. As they surged forward, they brandished their weapons and yelled blood curdling cries. At the sight, Lulay lost color and said, as he raised his cane to your guns.

17:38 Then threatening Biea, he added, you scoundrel to come here and gain time under pretense of a parlay. Do you know that you deserve death. Bia saw the attempt to draw the sword from the cane and pierce him. He seized Loulay by the collar and waistband as swift as lightning, and raising him clear off the ground. Billey replied, and you deserve to be hurled down to the bottom of the ditch to be smashed in the mud. But never mind, Thank God, I can fight.

18:08 You in another manner.

18:11 At this instant, an immense howl, a universal one, rose in the air like a whirlwind, as Major Losma, commander of military appeared on the platform. Oh sir, for Mercy's sake, he said to Ba, show yourself, for the people there believe something has happened to you, and they call for you. Indeed the name of Ba set afloat by Pitou, leader of the peasants, ascended on the clamor show yourself, sir, said lu Lay, not because the noise frightens me, but to prove that I have acted fairly. The farmer thrust his head out of the portal, waving his hand. At this sight, the populace burst with cheering. It was in measure revolution. Without speaking a word, the governor and then descended the stairs and crossed the yard, where Bia saw

19:03 the cannoneers were at their pieces, and the lint stocks were lighted and smoking.

19:08 He stopped before them.

19:10 Friends, He cried, remember that I came to your commander to stay the shedding of blood, but that he refused me. In the King's name. Be off from here, said Lulay, stamping his foot. Have a care, retorted the farmer. I am ordered out in the King's name, but I shall return in that of the people. Hu Lay pointed to the iron door, but Bia attempted a final effort. Governor, in the name of the nation, in the name of your brothers, brothers, is that what you call them down there bellowing down the bastille and death of the governor.

19:49 They may be brothers of yours, but surely they are none of mine. In humanities, then humanity which urges you to come one hundred thousand strong against one hundred hapless soldiers immured in these walls and cut their throats. But by giving up the bastille, you saved their lives, and I lose my honor. Biya was hushed for the soldierly argument crushed him, But again he addressed the soldiers, saying, surrender, friends, while there is yet time. In another ten minutes, it will be too late. I will have you shots unless you are out of this. Instantly, thundered lu Lay as true as I am a noble Bie stopped an instant, folded his arms in a token of defiance, and crossing glances for the last time with the exasperated governor walked forth,

20:44 much like we walk forth into the ads, and we're back under the burning July sun. The crowds awaited, shuddering with fever. Gauchamp's men had joined in with maras the suburbs, hailing each other as brothers. On seeing Bea, the cheering was tremendous. Lulas is a brave man, said Bier to Gauchamp. Or rather I should say he is stubborn. He will not surrender the bastille, but will sustain the siege. Do you think he will hold out long to death? All right, he shall have that the mote, queried Bier, and he is to be filled up in only one place, responded Maree, the beggar's leader. And I calculate we could choke it up altogether, eh lads? The friends answered unanimously in the affirmative.

21:54 Have it so, said Bier, overpowered. At this moment, Lulay appeared on the terrace, followed by Major Losma, commander of the military, and two or three other officers. Comments shouted Gauchamp. The governor turned his back on him. Gauchamp might have put up with a threat, but he would not bear contempt.

22:15 He lifted his gun and fired at him. A man near him fell instantly. One hundred ney a thousand gun shots sounded as if it were awaited as a signal, and the gray towers were striped with white. A few second silence succeeded this discharge, as if the assailants were frightened at what they had done. Then a gush of flame, lost in a cloud of smoke, crowned the crest of one tower. A detonation thundered, shrieks of pain were heard, and the throngs closely pressed. The first cannon shot had been fired by the Royalists. The first blood shed, the battle between people and bastille was begun. The fresh silence was broken by renewed screams, groans, and a few complaints.

23:02 But nobody thought to flee, and had the thoughts struck any one, he must have been ashamed seeing the numbers. Indeed, all the thoroughfares were streams of human beings, the square and immense sea. With each billow human head, the eyes flamed and the mouths hur oled curses. But soon they were tired of firing at insensible stone. They wanted the flesh to aim at and to see the blood spurt.

23:30 Everybody shouted ideas of assault. Beye, weary of listening, caught up an axe from a carpenter's hand, and rushed forward till he reached a small guard house before the first drawbridge. While the grape shot was hurling and whistling about him. He hacked at the chains till down came the bridge. During the quarter of an hour that this insane enterprise went on, the lookers on held their breath at each volley.

23:56 They expected to see their champion laid low. Forgetting their danger, they thought solely of that the audacious worker ran. When the drop came down, they uttered a loud whoop and dashed into the first yard. The frenzied and joyful rush was so unexpected, rapid and impetuous, that no resistance was made.

24:17 Nobody noticed that a man had been mangled under the bridge. Billet slid down from the guard house, where he found Pitou, who had reached the spot. He knew not how the young man had a quick eye and a poacher's habit. He had seen the gunner step up to the touch hole with the lighted matches, and seizing his patron by the coat, he had pulled him back behind a corner of the wall, which sheltered both from the cannonade. From this period on, the war was real. The tumult was alarming.

24:46 The onslaught murderous. Ten thousand gunshots poured upon the fort at the risk of slaying the assaulters with the garrison. The frightful uproar intoxicated the amateur fighters and began to daunt the besieged, who felt that they could never raise a commotion equal to this, deafening them. At this juncture, a little body of citizens appeared, calm and unarmed at the yard entrance. It was a deputation of electors from the city hall. They were sacrificing life under protection merely of the white flag before and after them to indicate.

25:21 They came to parley, wishing to stop the effusion of blood. After hearing that the attack had commenced, they forced Flessays to renew negotiations of the governor. In the name of the city. They summoned the governor of the citadel to cease firing and to receive a hundred of the town guards to guarantee his safety. The garrisons and the inhabitants.

25:44 Frightened by the magnitude of the task they had set themselves, the people were ready to accept the proposal, seeing to the dead and wounded carried by. If Lulay accepted the partial defeat, they would be content with a half victory least on the fort side, Bier went out to get his party to refrain. At the doors, he met Gauchamp without arms, exposing his naked breast like a man inspired calm, as though invulnerable. What has become of the deputation, he inquired.

26:18 It has got in, replied Bier. Cease firing. It's useless. He will not give in, said the beggar leader, with the same certainty as if he had been gifted with reading the future. No matter respect the usages of war, since we have become soldiers, I do not mind, said Gauchamp. Eli oulon go, he said to two men who seemed to rule the crowd together with him, do not let a shot be fired till I say so.

26:48 At the voice.

26:48 The two darted away, cleaving the throng, and soon the sound of musketry dying away stopped entirely. During the short rest the wounded were attended to. They were upwards of two o'clock struck. They had been hammering away two hours from noon. Biller had returned to the front, where Gauchamp found him. His impatience was visible as he watched the iron grating at length. The deputies appeared. By their woe begone aspect. It was clear their errand had failed. The accursed fortress is doomed, cried the popular orator. Gladly two arms, boys to arms, he yelled, without waiting for the deputies to relate their doings. The commandant refuses. In fact, scarcely had the governor read Falsay's letter introducing the party than

27:38 he brightened up in the face and exclaimed, instead of yielding to the proposition, you Parisian gentlemen wanted the fight, and it is too late to draw back. Lay took the offensive. This time, before the deputation crossed the threshold, the sack butt of Marshal Sachs played its tune. Three men fell, one dead and two wounded, the latter being a French guardsman, and the other one of the flag of truce bearers. At the sight of this victim, whose errand made him sacred, carried away smothered in blood, the fury of the numbers was exalted once more. Gauchamp's au du compe had returned to take their places by his side, but each had run home to change his dress. Elis had been the Marquis Comflant's running footmen, and his livery

28:26 resembled a Hungarian officer's uniform. Huel put on a uniform he had worn when an officer of the Queen's own regiment, and this gave more confidence to the masses. With the thought that the army was on their side. The firing recommenced more fiercely than before. At this Major Lumet approached his superior. He was a brave and honorable soldier, but he had some manhood left him, and he saw with pain what had happened, and foresaw with more pain what would occur. You know we have no food, he said.

28:57 I know that, answered Lulay, And we have no order to hold out. I ask your pardon, military governor of the bastille, but I am the governor of it in all respects. My order is to shut the doors, and I hold the keys.

29:12 My lord.

29:13 Keys are to open locks as well as to fasten them. Have a care that you do not get the garrison massacred without saving the castle. Look at the men we kill. They spring up again from the pavement. This morning, only three thousand were there. Three hours ago there were six. Now there are over sixty thousand, and tomorrow they will number one hundred thousand. When our cannon are silenced, they will be strong enough to pull down the Bastille with their bare hands. You do not speak like the military governor of the castille, Major Lomat.

29:45 I speak like a Frenchman, my lord.

29:47 I say that his Majesty, having given us no special order, and the provosts of the traders having made us a very acceptable proposition to introduce a hundred civil guards into the castle, you might avoid the misery I foresee by acceding to provas Fleissat's proposition. In your opinion, the city of Paris is a power we ought to obey.

30:09 Yes, in the absence of special royal order.

30:12 Then read, Major Loomay, said the prison chief, leading his lieutenant aside into a corner. On the small sheet of paper which he let him read, was written, hold out firmly. I will amuse the Parisians with cockades and promises. Before day is done, besin Vais will send you reinforcements. Flassier the letter the deputies carried. They thought they were bearing a desire for the Bastille to be surrendered, and it was in order to defend it that they handed me the major bent his head. Go to your post and do not quit till I command you, sir, continued.

30:50 Lulay loumay obey.

30:53 He coldly folded up the paper, replaced it in his pocket, and went over to the cannoneers to advise them to aim true and fire low. They obeyed like the Major. But the fortiless's fate was settled. No human power could delay the accomplishment to every cannon shot. The reply was, we mean to have the bastille. Our fate, dear listeners, is also settled. No human power could delay the onslaught of the numbers of the products and services that support this show.

31:42 And Rebecca.

31:48 Bea. The farmer executed prodigies of daring and energy, all in pure waste, till the idea struck him to go along the woodwork of the bridge and chop the chains of the second one, as he had done the first. Aunge howled for him to stay, and, seeing that howls were useless, he followed him from cover, saying, dear master Ba, you're a wife.

32:09 Will be a widow if you get killed.

32:12 The Swiss thrust their guns through the loopholes, by which the sackbut was fired to try to pick off the daring fellow who was making the chips fly off their bridge. Bia called on his single gun to answer the sack butt, but when the latter fired, the other artillerists retreated and the farmer was left alone to serve the cannon. This again drew pit two out of his refuge.

32:34 Master.

32:35 He sued, and the name of Catherine. Think if if you're done for the Catherine will be an orphan. Ba yielded to his plea, and because he had a new idea, he ran out on the square hollering a cart two carts added p two, thinking you cannot have too much of a good thing. Ten carts were immediately trundled through the multitude dry hay and straw, shouted Ba. Straw and hay repleated Pitou like a flashed Two hundred men brought each a truss of straw or half a bale of hay.

33:08 Others brought dry fodder on glitters. They were obliged to call out that they had ten times more than was wanted. Bier put himself in the rails of a cart laden with hay and pushed it before him. Instead of dragging it, Pitou did the same with another, without knowing why, but thinking the farmer's examples worthy of imitation, Elie Annouel followed close behind. Scarcely did they enter than small shot and canister received them. But the hay and straw deadened the bullets and slugs, and only a few rattled on the wheels and shafts. None of the assailants were touched. There Bia pulled out a scrap of paper and flint and steel.

33:48 He wrapped up a pinch of gunpowder in the paper, struck a light and ignited it, and shoved the flaring piece into the heap of hay. Others took lighted wisps and scattered the flames. It caught the pent roof, and the blazing carts set fire to beams high up, and sneaked along the bridge supports. The firemen came up with their engines, but the governor ordered them to be fired upon.

34:10 Though the prison might thus be burned over the garrison's heads, the old French soldiers refused. The governor had gone upon the tower to see if the promised succor was arriving, when he suddenly found himself enwrapped in smoke. On hearing the portclus smashed in. He recognized that all was lost. He was fully aware that he was hated. He guessed that there was no safety for him. During the whole of the action, he had cherished the thought of burying himself under the ruins of his castle. As soon as he acknowledged that all resistance was useless, he snatched a lint stock from an artillerist. The powder. The powder shrieked twenty terrified voices. Two soldiers crossed their bayonets before his breast.

34:57 At the very instant when he opened the ammunition store room door. You may kill me, he said, But you cannot do that so quickly that I shall not have had time to toss this brand into one of the open kegs. Then all of us besieged, and besiegers go up. The soldiers stopped with the steel at his breast, but he was still their commander and commanded, for he held the lives of all in his hands. His movement riveted everybody to their place. What do you want, several voices gasped, with the accent of a panic, an honorable capitulation. Everybody must retire, Count Loulay, I will listen to no proposition, while there is an intruder inside the steel walls. But you will take advantage of our withdrawal to repair damages.

35:44 Remonstrated BA. If the capitulation be refused, you will find things in the same condition you there I at this door on the faith of a nobleman. Some shook their heads, Bring me pen, ink and paper, continued the governor. That is well, he went on. As his orders were executed. Lulay laid the match by his side and began to write the terms of surrender on his knee. The French veterans and the Swiss, aware that their safety was at stake, silently looked at him in superstitious terror. In a twinkling, all the concourse outside had learnt what was preceding. As Lumay had said, it was the population which issued from beneath the flagstones and pavement, not only workmen and beggars, the homeless and the imperfectly clad, but citizens of the

36:31 better classes. Not only men, but women and children. Each had a weapon and uttered a war cry. From spot to spot amid groups was seen a woman disheveled, wringing her hands and waving her arms, howling curses, at the giant of stone. It was a mother, a wife, or a sweetheart whose dearest one had been incarcerated in its flanks.

36:54 But since a short space the giant had ceased to vomit, flame and scowl in the smoke. The fire was extinct in the whole mute as a tomb. On the blackened walls. The bullet grazes stood out white and were above count everybody had wanted to leave his mark on the granite brow of his personification of tyranny. They could hardly believe that the bastille was about to be turned over to them, that its governor would surrender. But at the very second, when all crowded round to read the message, a hail of bullets rained down from the battlements. At the same time as a tremendous report was heard from all breasts, a cry arose one, announcing that the people meant to have revenge. Trust the tyrants, again, said Beauchamp. Nobody about

37:41 cared any more capitulations, the powder, the prisoners, or himself. Nothing was wanted but retaliation, and the besiegers strewed into the yards, not by the hundreds, but by thousands. The only thing preventing them from entering still faster was not the muskets, but the narrowness of the doorways. On hearing the firing, the two soldiers who had not gone away from the commander jumped at him, and a third set his foot on the slow match and crushed it out.

38:07 Lulay drew the sword hidden in his cane and tried to stab with it, but it was wrenched off.

38:12 From him and broken. While in his grip.

38:15 He was convinced he could do no more, and he waited for his doom. The mobs rushing in met the soldiers holding out their hands to them, and so the bastille was not taken under a surrender, but by assault. There are moments when the future of a nation is exactly poised in the scales of fate. One of the plates bears up the other, even while each party thinks his side will make the other kick the beam. An invisible hand has flung into the dish a dagger or a pistol, and all changes. The only cry heard is woe to the vanquished. While the multitude poured, roaring with delight and anger same time, into the yards of the prison, two men were floundering Bie and Pitou. The latter was keeping up the other, whom no bullet or blow had struck,

39:08 but the fall had a trifle stunned him. Ropes were thrown to them, and poles thrust down. In five minutes they were rescued, were hugged and carried in triumph, muddy though they were. One gave Bier a drink of brandy. Another crammed the younger peasant with bread and sausage. A third dried them off and led them.

39:27 Into the sunshine.

39:29 Suddenly, an idea, or rather a memory, crossed the good farmer's mind. He tore himself from the friendly arms and ran towards the fort. The prisoners, help the prisoners, he shouted, yes, the prisoners, repeated Pitou, darting into the tower after his leader, only thinking of the jailers. The mob now shuddered on remembering the captives. The cries were reiterated and seemed to enlarge the flanks of the prison to expand it with liberty.

39:59 Gauchamp looked on quietly, no doubt, thinking that popular wrath is captive, like a great river, doing more mischief if one tries to damn it than letting it make its course. On the contrary, Billie and Huel leaped in between defenders and attackers. They prayed and supplicated, vociferating the holy lie that the soldiers.

40:17 Were promised their lives.

40:20 Bia and Patou's arrival was reinforcement to them. Bia, whom they were revenging, was alive, not even hurt. He was clear with a mud bath. That was all with sledges, the invaders broke the images on the clock face. They raced up the turret tops to kick the cannon which had belched death on them. They laid hands on the stones and endeavored to dislodge them. When the first of the conquerors was seen on the battlements, all without below one hundred thousand or so cast up an immense clamor.

40:50 It spread over Paris and flew over Paris like a swift winged eagle. The Bastille is taken at this news. Hearts melted, eyes were moist with tears of gladness, and hands clasped. No longer were there opposition parties or inimical classes. For all Parisians understood that they were brothers, and all men that they were free. Millions of men mutually embraced.

41:19 The end.

41:21 What an adventure story and it's real. It's a real adventure story. I suspect the characterization is a little bit not real. But it's kind of telling to me that I haven't read Duma since I was in middle school. But I was really obsessed with this kind of stuff when I was a young, strange kid. I can see how it influenced me. I also, I really like almost everything that talks about like the mob is going to do it in a negative way, starting in the twentieth century, Like it's just like almost universal. And yet this one is like critical of the mob while still being like, yeah, fuck it, sometimes you just got to like do that shit.

42:04 Sometimes it's just people are just gonna fucking go off.

42:08 You know.

42:08 And so it still has all of the like it's not idealizing the mob, right, it's like calling them the mob, at least in this translation, but it's like, yeah, but they're on the right side, you know. And also the thing that I really like the characterization of the governor. Sorry, French names just going and out of my head. I'm sorry, French listeners just struggle with it anyway. The governor who runs the place he talks like this, at least when I do his voice, how his whole thing is that he's like good and noble and brave in his mind, and yet the whole thing is like, this is how corrupt this man is. And I think that's like really telling.

42:45 It's a really good personification of what upper class nobility looks like, you know, where they're like really weirdly stubborn on certain points and they call that their honor, but then they're like literally stealing the food from the starving prisoners and renting out the garden and all that shit.

43:07 So I like it. That's what I would say about the story. Hazel, who helps me behind the scenes, says, quote, this story is so interesting to me, and writing the script was a really fun research deep dive. I'm really interested in the tension that we get here. Duma is such a national figure of France and this story is about one of the founding national events. The French celebrate the anniversary of the storming of the but Steal every year as an equivalent to our Fourth of July, and there's so much we don't know. How would Duma feel about his legacy being co opted to build national identity for the colonial core. How would Duma feel about being seen as a literary forefather for black liberation from powers

43:45 like France? Or maybe someone out there does know these things. There's only so much research. I can do more questions than answers, for sure, But I don't know if anyone fully gets to control how they are remembered. What is our duty to those who have gone before? And how we reach constitute their legacy? End quote and yeah best the end of the episode. I'm Margaret Kiljoy. I have been your host today. You can find my substack at Birds before the Storm. I write about stuff every week.

44:12 That's the thing I do. I sa a bunch of books because I write a lot. And until next week. May the swift winged Eagle of liberation pass over you this week, fuck ice free Palestine. Don't cross picket lines. I'll see you next time.

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