Memorize for the trial

Introductory Question: What is your name, story, and role in French society?

My name is Jeane Bouvier. I am a peasant and farmer,

a member of the third estate,

I am part of the common people, we make up the vast majority of France.

My family; we work the land from morning until night, yet we often struggle to afford bread and pay our taxes.

We work hard, but it seems that the more we work, the less we have. And isn't it funny that we feed France, yet our own children go hungry.”

I came to believe that the king and his government does not understand the suffering of people like us.

Please tell me and describe to the court the conditions of your village during the winter of 1788, while His Majesty, King Louis Capet, sat in the heated, luxurious halls of the Palace of Versailles, just one of his many castles.

Life was difficult. It was cruel. The winter of 1788 was unforgiving.

The frost came early, damaging our crops and leaving the harvest desperately poor. The cold took its toll on our livestock, and the little we had worked so hard to grow was lost. Bread prices climbed, and hunger crept into every home.

We ate frozen roots to survive, but it was never enough.

I watched my brothers waste away from hunger. I remember my sister weeping as we buried our dead. And all the while, we were expected to pay our taxes—to feed a kingdom that could not feed its own people.

Tell me, what had the nobles sacrificed? What burden had they carried? While we starved, the privileged few remained sheltered by a system that demanded so much from us and so little from them.

We were left with empty stomachs and frozen fields. The monarchy kept its palaces.

Sub Question: Do the nobles pay taxes?

As if. We are the ones and the only ones paying the king. I spend hours working the fields, 

HOURSS1!! 

Til my hands bled, til i fell 

but for what?

We get no food and no money. 

I didn't have time to learn politics or to even read, from a young age I was handed a shovel and told to work. And yet, my family was always hungry, always injured or sick, even though I do so much work. 

Question #2: Were you a part of the women who marched to Versailles

No… but my sister was.

Claira told me everything. The hunger. The fury. The rain pouring down as thousands of women marched to Versailles. Some carried knives. Others carried whatever they could find.

They had walked miles. All for one thing. Bread.

They demanded the king listen. Demanded he see what his people were enduring.

And when they dragged the royal family back to Paris, I thought… perhaps now he would understand. Perhaps seeing his people face-to-face would finally open his eyes.

But I was a fool.

The king had seen our suffering.

He simply did not care.

Question#3: Where were you when you heard that the king had attempted to flee France? 

I was returning to my village after a long day at the mill when I heard the news.

I stopped dead.

That scum. That low-life thief!

We were taught that the king was chosen by God. That he was meant to protect France. To protect us.

Well, I suppose even God makes mistakes.

And what did our king do? He ran.

He tried to escape the very people he was meant to rule. The very people who fed him. Who paid his taxes. WHO BROKE THEIR BACKS SO HE COULD LIVE IN LUXURY.

When I heard he had been caught at Varennes, I thought… perhaps he had never supported the Revolution. Perhaps he never wanted change.

But then I thought…

Where was he when we were starving?

Where was he when my children died with empty stomachs? When my husband worked the fields until his hands split open? Until his feet swelled, his lips cracked, and his body could barely stand?

He worked until he could no longer hold his shovel. Sometimes, he had to tie it to himself just to keep going.

AND FOR WHAT?

We grew the grain. We harvested the crops. We paid our dues.

And still, we went hungry.

The food we grew was not ours to keep. The taxes never stopped. The work never ended.

Don't get me started on the salt

And while we struggled for a single loaf of bread, our king tried to slip away in the night.

Tell me…

What kind of king abandons his people when they need him most?

What kind of king runs from the very people who keep him alive?

Question #4: Were you present at the Champ de Mars on July 17, 1791? What did you see?

Yes. I was there. Among the crowd.

People came to sign the petition. To demand change. To make their voices heard.

We came peacefully. We came as citizens.

I thought I was safe. I still believed the king was meant to protect us.

How wrong I was.

It happened in seconds. The soldiers arrived, and then the shouting. The gunfire. The screams.

People ran. Others fell.

 And the ground…

The ground was covered in blood.

These were not nobles. Not soldiers. Not enemies of France.

They were ordinary people. Fathers. Mothers. Children. Workers. People who had dared to ask for a voice in their own country.

And the king let it happen.

That was the moment I understood. Louis the sixteen would not protect us. Not when our lives were at stake. Not when our voices threatened his power.

To him, we were nothing

Worms in the dirt. Easily crushed. Easily forgotten.

We had begged to be heard. We had worked until our bodies broke. We had watched our children starve.

And when we finally stood together and demanded change, they answered with bullets.

Our voices were not heard but our suffering was not new. Our anger was not new.

And neither was our fight.

What happened on August 10, 1792?

It was a massacre.

By August, the people had almost completely lost faith in the king. We had starved. We had suffered. And still, nothing changed.

Then came the fighting at the Tuileries.

I heard the gunfire. The screaming. The chaos.

The palace was defended by soldiers loyal to the king. And people died. Hundreds upon hundreds.

Killed, I say! And by whom? The very king who swore to protect us!

We wanted bread. We wanted a voice. We wanted change.

And he answered with bloodshed.

He was supposed to unite France. Instead, Frenchmen were killing Frenchmen in the streets.

Tell me, what kind of king turns his own people into enemies?