Episode 489: The Estates-General

body that had not met since sixteen fourteen. Before we go any further, however's examined the history of the Estates General. The Estates General was not a revolutionary invention, nor even a particularly modern one. Its roots lay deep in the Middle Ages. In thirteen three, King Philip the Fourth, known as Philip the Fair, found himself in a bitter struggle with Pope Boniface the Eighth. To resist papal claims of supremacy, he summoned representatives from across his kingdom, nobles, clergy and

commoners alike to meet in Paris. This gathering was not called the Estates General at the time, but it marked the first convocation of what would become that body. The French word atat meant estate or order of society, and French society itself was divided into three great estates, the clergy first estate, the nobility second estate, and the commoners third estate. Throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the Estates General was summoned sporadically, usually in moments of crisis when

the crown required extraordinary support. They were not a standing institution like the English Parliament. Rather, they were an occasional council of the realm. Kings called them whenever they wanted to legitimize a new tax or rally the nation behind a cause. For example, during the One Hundred Years War, assemblies of the Estates General approved subsidies to fund the struggle against England. The Estates did not legislate in the modern sense. They were an advisory body, and their approval

gave political cover to royal policies. The Estate's general influence waxed and waned depending upon the monarchy's strength. Under weak kings or during national armorsurgencies, their voices carried weight. In the thirteen fifties, during the captivity of King John the Second after the Battle of Plotier. In the One Hundred Years War, the Estates General tried to assert more control

over taxation and governance. Etien Marcel, the provost of the Merchants of Paris, pushed for reforms, even donning the red and blue hood of the Paris Commune as a sign of popular resistance. But this early bid for parliamentary power faltered amid division and violence. In the fifteenth century, under Charles the seventh and Louis the eleventh, the monarchy gradually reasserted itself, and the Estates General were summoned less frequently.

The growing power of the crown, supported by standing armies and regular taxation such as the Tale, made royal reliance on the estates less urgent. Indeed, by the sixteenth century, the Estates General had become almost a relic of an earlier age. Still, they had not disappeared entirely. During the Wars of Religion in the late sixteenth century, the Estates General met again, most notably in fifteen ninety three at Blue Law, where the Catholic League attempted to block Angri

of Navarre from becoming King Henry the fourth. These sessions showed that the estates could still serve as a stage for national crises, though increasingly they were tools wielded by factions rather than by partners and governance. The seventeenth century, however, marked their eclipse. Louis the thirteenth summoned the Estates General in sixteen fourteen, but this would prove to be their last meeting for nearly two centuries. The Assembly of sixteen

fourteen revealed deep divisions between the Estates, the clergy. The nobility resisted reforms well the Third Estate pushed unsuccessfully for measures to curb privilege and ease burdens on commoners. When the meeting broke up without significant change, it seemed to confirm that the Estates General was too fractious to be useful, and that brings us to seventeen eighty nine. Louis's announcement that he would call the Estates General for the first

time in over a century electrified the kingdom. Suddenly, a political horizon that had been closed for nearly two hundred years was open again. Every village, parish and town prepared as caher de dolrance grievance books in which subjects put down their demands. The complaints filled thousands of pages Hesans pleaded for an end to feudal dues. Artisans denounced monopolies, merchants called for freer trade. Intellectuals urged constitutional limits on

royal power. As the preparations began, a slim pamphlet struck the public like a bolt of lightning. It was abbe Emmanuel Joseph Sias, what is the third est State? When writing this, his answer was blunt quote, what is the third est state? Everything? What has it been until now? In the political order? Nothing? What does it want to be something? Saies argued that the nation was not the king nor the privileged orders, but the third est state, the common people themselves. His words gave voice to a

simmering frustration and raised expectations far beyond fiscal reform. On May fifth, seventeen eighty nine, Versailles glittered with pomp as Louis the sixteenth opened the Estates. General Hall was filled with nearly twelve hundred deputies, two hundred and ninety one clergy in their black robes, two hundred and seventy nobles adorned with swords and embroidery, and of course, five hundred and seventy eight deputies of the Third Estate mostly lawyers

officials today we would call men of letters. The King Solomon's ceremonial dress promised to restore prosperity, but poignantly, he offered no plan. Crucially, he gave no guidance as to the rules of voting. It had been almost two hundred years no one knew exactly how the Estates General was supposed to function. Remember this had never been a formal body. It was called in times of crises, and nobody knew exactly how it was supposed to operate. And this was

to prove the fault line. Would the estates vote separately, as they had in sixteen fourteen, giving the clergy and nobility two votes to the third estates one, or would they vote head to head, which would give the more populous Commons a majority the nobility and the higher clergy. They clung to tradition well, of course, the commons demanded equality. Weeks dragged on in fruitless ceremony, Each estate withdrew to

its chamber, refusing to yield. Meanwhile, bread prices soared, unrest stirred in Paris, and the grievances hung over Versailles like a storm cloud. On June the seventeenth. Weary of stalemate, the deputies of the Third Estate acted, Led by Abby Sayes, They declared themselves the National Assembly, claiming to represent the French nation itself. They decreed no taxes would be legitimate unless approved by them. It was a breathtaking as sovereignty lay not in the king but in the nation. The

King's reaction was swift but indecisive. On June the twentieth, the deputies arrived at their hall, only to find the doors barred and guards posted with the excuse of quote unquote repairs. Whether by accident or by design, the message was clear they were not welcome, but the deputies refused to disperse. Searching for a space large enough to hold the Third Estate, they marched through Versailles until they came to an indoor tennis court, a plane echoing hall used

for an old fashioned game. There, five hundred and seventy six deputies gathered beneath a bare roof, their voices rising with determination. The mood was electric. Jeane Sylvan Baye, a scholar and astronomer, presided. One by one, the deputies raised their arms and together they swore the tennis court oath. The National Assembly shall never disperse, and shall meet wherever circumstances demand, until the Constitution of the Kingdom is established

and consolidated upon firm foundations. This Tennis Court Oath was more than a declaration. It was a covenant, an unbreakable bond that turned a divided chamber of orders into a unified political nation. In the sketch later john by Jacques Louis da Vide, deputies stretched out their arms in unison, a sea of outstretched hands symbolizing civic unity and defiance. The oath shocked Versailles. Louis the sixteenth declared the Assembly's

axe void and ordered the Estates to deliberate separately. Yet the pressure mounted. Crowds in Paris celebrated the deputies. Then more clergies and nobles defected to join them. On June the twenty seventh, the King capitulated reluctantly. He ordered all three Estates to unite, in effect recognizing the National Assembly. By then, the tide of events was unstoppable. The Estates General, summoned to resolve a fiscal crisis, had now given birth

to a sovereign National Assembly. The Tennis Court Oath transformed the struggle from a question of simple procedure into a total constitutional revolution. There was truly now no going back. One fiery deputy, Marribu expressed the assemblies resolve when royal officers demanded dispersal, saying quote, we are the people and we will not leave except at the points of Bayonets.

Now within weeks, as we'll see next time, the political drama at Versailles would merge with hunger and unrest nearby Paris. Soon the Bastille will fall. But the spark had already been lit in June in a converted tennis court, where men of law and letters swore an oath that they would create a new France.