The 50th Law (with 50 Cent)

sans-culottes. As a sign of his growing influence, Danton was elected to
his first official position—deputy prosecutor for the commune in
charge of Paris—and he began to fill the commune with his
sympathizers, preparing for something large.
The following summer a large contingent of sans-culottes from
Marseilles was in Paris to celebrate the third anniversary of the
revolution. The men from Marseilles, enthused by Danton’s calls for a
republic, placed themselves under his charge, and throughout June
and July they marched through Paris singing hymns to the revolution
and spreading Danton’s demand for the formation of a republic. Each
day more and more people joined the men from Marseilles. Quietly
planning his coup, Danton gained control of the commune. Its
members now voted to lift the blockade on the various bridges of Paris
leading to the Tuileries from the Left Bank, effectively ending any
protection for the royal family, as crowds could now march straight to
the palace.
On the morning of August 10, alarm bells rang out throughout the
city, and accompanied by a steady drumbeat, an enormous contingent
of Parisians marched across several bridges to invade the Tuileries.
Most of the guards protecting the palace scattered, and soon the royal
family was forced to flee for their lives, taking refuge in the nearby hall
where the National Assembly met. The crowd quickly massacred the
remaining soldiers guarding the palace and took it over.
Danton’s gambit had worked—the people had spoken and the
National Assembly voted to end the monarchy, stripping the king and
his family of any powers and protections that had remained. In one
blow, Danton had put an end to the longest-lasting and most powerful
monarchy in Europe. The king and his family were shuttled to the
Temple, a medieval priory that would serve as their private prison as
the new government decided their fate. Danton was now named
minister of justice, and he was the de facto leader of the new Republic
of France.

---

—
At the Temple, Louis found himself separated from his family, awaiting
trial for treason in December. He was now to be known as Louis Capet
(the family name of the founder of the French tenth-century kingship
that would end with Louis), a commoner with no privileges. Mostly
alone, he had time to reflect on the traumas of the past three and a half
years. If only the French people had kept their faith in him, he would
have found a way to solve all of the problems. He was still certain that
godless demagogues and outside agitators had spoiled the people’s
natural love for him.
The revolutionaries had recently discovered a stash of papers that
Louis had hidden in a safe in a wall in the Tuileries, and among them
were letters that revealed how deeply he had conspired with foreign
powers to overturn the revolution. He was certain now to be sentenced
to death, and he prepared himself for this.
For his trial in front of the assembly, Louis Capet wore a simple
coat, the kind any middle-class citizen would sport. He now had a
beard. He looked sad and exhausted, and hardly like a king. But
whatever sympathy his judges had had for him quickly vanished as
prosecutors read out the many charges against him, including how he
had conspired to overturn the revolution. A month later the private
citizen Capet was sentenced to die at the guillotine, Danton himself
casting one of the deciding votes.
Louis was determined to show a brave face. On the morning of
January 21, a cold and windy day, he was transported to the Place de la
Révolution, where an enormous crowd had gathered to witness the
execution. They watched in stunned amazement as the former king
had his hands tied and his hair cut like any ordinary criminal. He
climbed the stairs to the guillotine, and before kneeling at the block, he
cried out, “People, I die innocent! I pardon those who sentenced me. I
pray God my blood does not fall again over France.”
As the blade fell, he emitted a horrifying cry. The executioner held
up the king’s head for all to see. After a few cries of “Vive la nation,” a
deathly silence fell over the crowd. Minutes later they rushed to the
scaffold to dip their hands in Louis’s blood and buy locks of his hair.

---

—
As the leader of the French Revolution, Danton now faced two rather
daunting forces: the invading armies that kept pressing closer to Paris
and the restiveness of the French citizens, many of whom clamored for
revenge on the aristocracy and all counterrevolutionaries. To meet the
enemy armies, Danton unleashed an enormous citizen army of
millions that he had created, and in the first few months of battle these
new French forces turned the tide of the war.
To channel the people’s taste for revenge, he set up a revolutionary
tribunal to bring quick justice to those suspected of trying to restore
the monarchy. The tribunal initiated what would become known as the
Terror, as it sent thousands of suspects to the guillotine, often on the
flimsiest of charges.
Shortly after the execution of the king, Danton traveled to Belgium
to help oversee the war effort on that front. While there, he received
the news that his beloved wife, Gabrielle, had died in premature
childbirth. He felt horribly guilty for not being by her side in that
moment, and the thought that he had no chance to say good-bye to her
and that he would never see her face again was unbearable. Without
thinking of the consequences, he abandoned his mission in Belgium
and hurried back to France.
By the time he arrived, his wife had been dead for a week and
buried in the public cemetery. Overwhelmed with grief and the desire
to see her one more time, he hurried to the cemetery, bringing along
with him a friend and some shovels. On a moonless, rainy night, they
managed to find the grave. He dug and he dug, and with his friend’s
help, he lifted the casket out of the ground and, with much effort,
finally pried the lid off. He gasped at the sight of her bloodless face. He
pulled her out, hugging her tightly to his body, begging her to forgive
him. He kissed her again and again on her cold lips. After several
hours, he finally returned her to the ground.
In the months to come, something seemed to have changed in
Danton. Had it been the loss of his wife, or was it the guilt he now felt
for having unleashed the Terror within France? He had ridden the
wave of the revolution to the pinnacle of power, but now he wanted it
to go in another direction. He became less engaged in affairs of state

---

and was no longer in favor of the Terror. Maximilien Robespierre, his
main rival for power, noticed the change and began to spread the
rumor that Danton had lost his revolutionary fervor and could no
longer be trusted. Robespierre’s campaign had effect: when it came
time to elect members to the highest governing body, the Committee of
Public Safety, Danton did not receive enough votes and Robespierre
packed it with his sympathizers.
Danton now openly worked to put an end to the Terror, through
speeches and pamphlets, but this only played into the hands of his
rival. On March 30, 1794, Danton was arrested for treason and brought
before the revolutionary tribunal. It seemed ironic that the tribunal he
had formed now held his fate in its hands. The charges against him
were based on pure innuendo, but Robespierre made certain he was
found guilty and sentenced to death. Upon hearing the sentence, he
yelled at his judges, “My name is engraved on every institution of the
revolution—the army, the committees, the tribunal. I have killed
myself!”
That same afternoon he and other condemned men were put in
carts and led to the Place de la Révolution. Along the way, Danton
passed the residence where Robespierre lived. “You’re next,” Danton
shouted in his booming voice, pointing his finger at Robespierre’s
apartment. “You will follow me!”
Danton was the last one to be executed that day. An enormous
crowd had followed the cart, and now they were quiet as he was led up
the stairs. He could not help but think of Louis, whom he had
reluctantly sent to the guillotine, and the many former friends who had
died during the Terror. It had taken a few months, but he had grown
sick of all the bloodshed, and he could sense the crowd before him was
feeling the same way. As he laid his neck on the block, he shouted to
the executioner, “Make sure you show my head to the people. It is
worth a look!”
After the execution of Danton, Robespierre unleashed what became
known as the Great Terror. During four tumultuous months, the
tribunal sent close to twenty thousand French men and women to the
guillotine. But Danton had anticipated the shift in mood: the French
public had had enough of the executions, and they turned against
Robespierre with remarkable speed. In late July, in a heated meeting
at the assembly, its members voted to arrest Robespierre. He tried to

---

defend himself, but the words came out haltingly. One member
shouted, “It is the blood of Danton that chokes you!” The following
morning, without a trial, Robespierre was guillotined, and days later
the assembly abolished the revolutionary tribunal.
—
At around the time of Robespierre’s execution, the new leaders of the
revolution were looking for ways to drum up funds for the various
emergencies France was facing, and someone mentioned the recent
rediscovery of Louis’s magnificent coronation carriage, the Sacre.
Perhaps they could sell it. A few of them went to inspect it, and they
were aghast at what they perceived as its sheer hideousness. One
deputy described it as “a monstrous assemblage built of the people’s
gold and an excess of flattery.” All agreed that no one would buy such a
grotesquerie. They had all of the gold from the coach removed and
melted, sending it to the treasury. They dispatched the salvaged bronze
to the republic’s foundries to help forge some much-needed cannons.
When it came to the painted panels on the doors, with all of their
mythological symbols, they found them too weird for anyone’s tastes
and promptly had them burned.
• • •