Butterflying the execution of Louis XVI and his family is going to cause a lot of other butterflies in the short-term, as it was the act that exarcebated tensions and accelerated the declaration of war. Louis is definitely going to ask his brother-in-law to bail him out, and Austria is already concerned about French radicalism and expansionism. However, the UK and Russia just came from a war, so it's going to be interesting to see how this plays out.
So Evident a Danger: The Consequences of War between Britain, Prussia and Russia in 1791
- Thread starter Gwrtheyrn Annwn
- Start date
It seems Louis and the family are safe for now but with the country being in such alarmed mood, it won't last sadly...
That was a well written update, by which I mean I felt a genuine surge of irritation and a desire to sharpen a razor.
Depends on how it plays out. No Decleration means that everyone can assume he was kidnapped, at least for now.
The issue is, if he gets recaptured, or worse, gets to Royalists and then unleashes the Decleration.
Absolutely right, it was hinted at the end of the first chapter that Britain and Russia may well not get involved in a big war in France and this is exactly why. But as you say, Louis XVI's continued presence arguably makes a stronger case for Austrian intervention. How that will end is another matter entirely, and whether Louis XVI finds himself in a palace in France or in Vienna, as was discussed before, will probably not be his decision.
Safe for now indeed, now being the key word! Between the national panic that will surely ensue and the tendency of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to make the worst decisions, both in different ways, this will almost certainly not go well for here out.
As @Knightmare said below, it does depend how it plays out. A successful Flight to Montmedy does not immediately save him but does at least make a relatively obscure retirement, which Louis XVI would probably enjoy in all honesty, more likely perhaps than an execution.
Thank you..I think
And this is the aforementioned tendency to make the worst decisions! Although his allies/sympathises could perhaps still argue that even the Declaration was the product of kidnappers in this scenario but it will definitely make it much harder.
This war can only have one outcome: the Austrians get their asses kicked. Once that it becomes clear that Louis is going to be restored when the Austrians reach Paris, the French are going to implement the mass national conscription system that OTL won them the war and roll through the Austrian Netherlands in two years. I can only see the Austrians winning if they defeat the French Army when they are weak and demovilized to attempt to rush to Paris, but even then they are on their own and I doubt they have the logistical capacity to go that far. Maybe the King being alive motivates the counterrevolutionaries a bit more, but even then they won't be beating the treason allegations: their King is literally colliding with a foreign power.
Overall, I think Louis is going to end his days in a fancy palace in Vienna, crying in his memoirs that he wanted reforms but he got screwed over by the evil radicals.
Chapter 2 - Part 4 - "The King forbids his ministers to sign any order in his name..." Testament Politique de Louis XVI, p. x
Part 4 - "The King forbids his ministers to sign any order in his name..." Testament Politique de Louis XVI, p. x
Louis Auguste Le Tonnelier, Baron de Breteuil, 'First' Minister of Louis XVI's government at Montmedy, and a contemporary cartoon of the National Guard
The Duke of Choiseul had been chosen to command Bouillé's advance guard almost solely because of his aristocratic title. It was a poor choice. Choiseul had limited military experience at the age of 31 and shared many of the worst traits of his class, especially in regards to the lower orders. He would nearly ruin the entire plan through his domineering attitude towards the local peasants that he and his cavalrymen encountered during their mission to escort the King. Those peasants had been told that Choiseul and the soldiers had gathered in their tiny village to meet, and then escort, a strongbox full of military pay back to the frontlines. The suspicious locals, however, soon came to believe that they had come to compel them to pay feudal dues that they had been avoiding since the revolution had started. Choiseul proved remarkably poor at disabusing them of that notion as he heavy-handedly dismissed their concerns and protests. Fortunately for the Duke, the royal party had suffered no major delays and arrived only an hour late, from the inevitable issues in any journey, before the stand-off could come to blows.
Having narrowly avoided that disaster, Choiseul and his soldiers fell in with the royal cavalcade and departed Somme-Vesle. Behind them, they left any number of suspicious locals convinced and ready tell the incoming Parisian messengers that whatever the soldiers had been escorting, it wasn't a strongbox. These messengers were playing a hopeless game in trying to catch up with the royal part, and indeed many were going in the wrong direction from Paris. Those that were heading along the right route, and would soon encounter the people of Somme-Vesle, were already collecting news from the locals as they passed and could soon piece together that the King's party was heading towards the border under armed guard. This lent credence to both interpretations of the event, the armed guard could be either to protect the King or to hold him in. Bouillé's use of mercenary foreign soldiers, presumed to be more loyal and reliable after the mutiny at Nancy, also suggest foreign involvement to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of 18th century military recruitment. The growing military guard, as further detachments continued to join along the route, did not prevent Louis XVI from continuing to speak to his people whenever the carriages were forced to stop. It did, however, make the disguise of being a Russian noblewoman and her entourage much less convincing and, before long, Louis XVI had been recognised at Sainte-Menehould and Varennes. The inhabitants of these towns could do little to stop the military procession, and had no idea of the news from Paris, responded in a variety of ways.
Some asked where the King was going and why he had left Paris, some attempted to ask if he needed rescue, others simply fell to their knees in awe. The presence of their King among them was too much for many to bear. Those who did receive an answer from the itinerant King were invariably told the same thing, that Louis XVI had escaped the villainous Parisian mob to go somewhere safe and secure from whence he could resolve the crisis without interference and intimidation. This answer seem to have mollified and confused the questioners in equal measure, but the presence of an armed guard and the subsequent polarisation in France make people's genuine reactions in the moment impossible to determine. The arriving Parisian messengers generally received garbled versions of the events in which the witnesses were keen to have had as little involvement as possible, beyond seeing the King, his family and his guards. One enterprising blacksmith from Sainte-Menehould did pluckily attempt the rescue of the King by riding to rouse the National Guard at Clermont-en-Argonne. This did result in a minor confrontation at Clermont-en-Argonne but, by this time, the cavalry escort was too substantial and the guardsmen quailed and fled. Ironically, if they had stood their ground, they may well have prevailed as Louis XVI had already ordered the his guards not to spill any French blood and would perhaps have prevented them from charging down the guardsmen. [1]
In the event, the chance was lost and the party carried on unmolested to Varennes where, a little way beyond the town Louis XVI finally met his chief collaborator, the Marquis de Bouillé, who had ridden out personally to meet his King with a further cavalry escort. As far as Louis XVI was concerned, everything had now effectively been achieved and it would be a simple matter to reach Montmedy, summon the National Assembly there, or perhaps to Metz, and smoothly agreed a proper solution to the political crisis without the interference of the Parisian mob. This may well appear to be blind optimism, and in a very real sense it was, but the main reason for this belief was his utter conviction in almost all problems being caused said mob and their restrictions on his actions. [2] His allies, even his wife, were less sure. Marie-Antoinette, Bouillé and his plenipotentiary/'first' minister Louis Auguste Le Tonnelier, Baron de Breteuil were more reactionary in their opposition to the French Revolution but also more realistic in what needed to be done. All three strongly supported calling openly for foreign military intervention, especially to remind Leopold II of his promise to help, and had little faith that the National Assembly would even answer a royal summons from Louis XVI, let alone compromise with him. In truth, none of the three really wanted the Assembly to, they hoped to tear up what had happened so far and to start from scratch in the traditional absolutist model. No sooner had Louis XVI escaped the restrictions of Paris than he was thrown straight into the restrictions of his allies.
Louis XVI, having arrived at Montmedy, would at first resist their pressured. He had indeed made appeals to Austria and Prussia but received only vague promises, making him little inclined to try again so soon. The Habsburgs had promised to march to his aid if he could be his own man again but now that the time had come, it was unclear if they would really deliver. And besides, Louis XVI wanted nothing less than to begin a civil war between his people and had told Anne Charles de de Montmorency-Luxembourg, Duke of Piney-Luxembourg during the struggle for the creation of the National Assembly that, "I do not want any man to perish in my quarrel." [3] And so instead Louis XVI took the path he truly hoped would be the peaceful one. His Declaration to the French People was officially issued and dispatched to Paris on the 16th June, along with a royal summons for the National Assembly to make haste to the presence of the King.
[1] He did the same IOTL.
[2] As he believed IOTL as well.
[3] An OTL quote.
Louis Auguste Le Tonnelier, Baron de Breteuil, 'First' Minister of Louis XVI's government at Montmedy, and a contemporary cartoon of the National Guard
The Duke of Choiseul had been chosen to command Bouillé's advance guard almost solely because of his aristocratic title. It was a poor choice. Choiseul had limited military experience at the age of 31 and shared many of the worst traits of his class, especially in regards to the lower orders. He would nearly ruin the entire plan through his domineering attitude towards the local peasants that he and his cavalrymen encountered during their mission to escort the King. Those peasants had been told that Choiseul and the soldiers had gathered in their tiny village to meet, and then escort, a strongbox full of military pay back to the frontlines. The suspicious locals, however, soon came to believe that they had come to compel them to pay feudal dues that they had been avoiding since the revolution had started. Choiseul proved remarkably poor at disabusing them of that notion as he heavy-handedly dismissed their concerns and protests. Fortunately for the Duke, the royal party had suffered no major delays and arrived only an hour late, from the inevitable issues in any journey, before the stand-off could come to blows.
Having narrowly avoided that disaster, Choiseul and his soldiers fell in with the royal cavalcade and departed Somme-Vesle. Behind them, they left any number of suspicious locals convinced and ready tell the incoming Parisian messengers that whatever the soldiers had been escorting, it wasn't a strongbox. These messengers were playing a hopeless game in trying to catch up with the royal part, and indeed many were going in the wrong direction from Paris. Those that were heading along the right route, and would soon encounter the people of Somme-Vesle, were already collecting news from the locals as they passed and could soon piece together that the King's party was heading towards the border under armed guard. This lent credence to both interpretations of the event, the armed guard could be either to protect the King or to hold him in. Bouillé's use of mercenary foreign soldiers, presumed to be more loyal and reliable after the mutiny at Nancy, also suggest foreign involvement to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of 18th century military recruitment. The growing military guard, as further detachments continued to join along the route, did not prevent Louis XVI from continuing to speak to his people whenever the carriages were forced to stop. It did, however, make the disguise of being a Russian noblewoman and her entourage much less convincing and, before long, Louis XVI had been recognised at Sainte-Menehould and Varennes. The inhabitants of these towns could do little to stop the military procession, and had no idea of the news from Paris, responded in a variety of ways.
Some asked where the King was going and why he had left Paris, some attempted to ask if he needed rescue, others simply fell to their knees in awe. The presence of their King among them was too much for many to bear. Those who did receive an answer from the itinerant King were invariably told the same thing, that Louis XVI had escaped the villainous Parisian mob to go somewhere safe and secure from whence he could resolve the crisis without interference and intimidation. This answer seem to have mollified and confused the questioners in equal measure, but the presence of an armed guard and the subsequent polarisation in France make people's genuine reactions in the moment impossible to determine. The arriving Parisian messengers generally received garbled versions of the events in which the witnesses were keen to have had as little involvement as possible, beyond seeing the King, his family and his guards. One enterprising blacksmith from Sainte-Menehould did pluckily attempt the rescue of the King by riding to rouse the National Guard at Clermont-en-Argonne. This did result in a minor confrontation at Clermont-en-Argonne but, by this time, the cavalry escort was too substantial and the guardsmen quailed and fled. Ironically, if they had stood their ground, they may well have prevailed as Louis XVI had already ordered the his guards not to spill any French blood and would perhaps have prevented them from charging down the guardsmen. [1]
In the event, the chance was lost and the party carried on unmolested to Varennes where, a little way beyond the town Louis XVI finally met his chief collaborator, the Marquis de Bouillé, who had ridden out personally to meet his King with a further cavalry escort. As far as Louis XVI was concerned, everything had now effectively been achieved and it would be a simple matter to reach Montmedy, summon the National Assembly there, or perhaps to Metz, and smoothly agreed a proper solution to the political crisis without the interference of the Parisian mob. This may well appear to be blind optimism, and in a very real sense it was, but the main reason for this belief was his utter conviction in almost all problems being caused said mob and their restrictions on his actions. [2] His allies, even his wife, were less sure. Marie-Antoinette, Bouillé and his plenipotentiary/'first' minister Louis Auguste Le Tonnelier, Baron de Breteuil were more reactionary in their opposition to the French Revolution but also more realistic in what needed to be done. All three strongly supported calling openly for foreign military intervention, especially to remind Leopold II of his promise to help, and had little faith that the National Assembly would even answer a royal summons from Louis XVI, let alone compromise with him. In truth, none of the three really wanted the Assembly to, they hoped to tear up what had happened so far and to start from scratch in the traditional absolutist model. No sooner had Louis XVI escaped the restrictions of Paris than he was thrown straight into the restrictions of his allies.
Louis XVI, having arrived at Montmedy, would at first resist their pressured. He had indeed made appeals to Austria and Prussia but received only vague promises, making him little inclined to try again so soon. The Habsburgs had promised to march to his aid if he could be his own man again but now that the time had come, it was unclear if they would really deliver. And besides, Louis XVI wanted nothing less than to begin a civil war between his people and had told Anne Charles de de Montmorency-Luxembourg, Duke of Piney-Luxembourg during the struggle for the creation of the National Assembly that, "I do not want any man to perish in my quarrel." [3] And so instead Louis XVI took the path he truly hoped would be the peaceful one. His Declaration to the French People was officially issued and dispatched to Paris on the 16th June, along with a royal summons for the National Assembly to make haste to the presence of the King.
[1] He did the same IOTL.
[2] As he believed IOTL as well.
[3] An OTL quote.
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Apologies for the slowness of the update, I've had a very busy time recently with work but hopefully will be back on track soon!
In a word, yes. Whilst everyone else is distracted in Eastern Europe, Louis XVI goes for, and succeeds, at the worst possible option for internal stability. From here, chaos will naturally ensue.
Chapter 2 - Part 5 - "The Assembly has put the King entirely outside the Constitution" Testament Politique de Louis XVI, p. iii
New
Part 5 - "The Assembly has put the King entirely outside the Constitution" Testament Politique de Louis XVI, p. iii
Camille Desmoulins, Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans and Antoine Barnave
It is tempting to see the Flight to Montmedy as the great turning point when the fragile alliance holding the French Revolution on a relatively straight path was broken. In reality, that alliance had been in decline long before June 1791 and had died with the Comte de Mirabeau. Instead, the Flight to Montmedy was an ill-fated attempt to resurrect it on Louis XVI's terms. He had diagnosed at least one aspect of the situation accurately, the people of Paris were wielding a disruptive influence over both the Assembly and his person. He had been correct also that he was more popular outside the the capital than within it. Unfortunately, as so often in his reign, Louis XVI fumbled the conclusion. The National Assembly was no longer, if it had ever been, his to command and the people would not rise in his name.
His allies had anticipated, or at least feared, this. Marie-Antoinette had always been prepared to direct Austrian soldiers to retake Paris, the Marquis de Bouillé had also concluded that it would be necessary and the Baron de Breteuil also expected it. All were to be disappointed. Leopold II would not be roused to help, his promise had been empty and no Austrians would into France that summer as the Ochakov War rumbled on. The 'sublime conspiracy' had achieved the near impossible in getting Louis XVI out of Paris but now it was floundering. The only good news was that the National Assembly, Marquis de Lafayette and Bailly were having an worse time.
The news of the escape/kidnapping had thrown Paris into chaos and the royal summons to Montmedy was like gunpowder on a bonfire. Beliefs in the King's kidnapping or treachery were variously confirmed or disapproved by this single act. The widespread conviction that the Marquis de Lafayette, Bailly and the National Assembly had either actively or passively allowed Paris to be deprived of her King, however, stuck. To the suspicious and the cynical, the events of the last few days were looking increasingly like an attempt to extract the mechanisms of French government from Paris and to remove the voice of the people. The rising radicals in the Cordeliers Club, led chiefly by the towering lawyer Georges Jacques Danton, the erudite journalist Camille Desmoulins and the poisoned pen of Jean-Paul Marat, were quick to give voice to these fears. Crowds thronged to the Tuileries to demand answers from the National Assembly and neither the palace guards, which were mainly the famous Swiss Guards, nor the National Guard would hold them back.
The people of Paris were used to marching on the Tuileries by now, they had marched on the palace only days before when rumours of the King's departure had spread. They had searched the palace from top to bottom in search of the missing King that day and, of course, found nothing. That day they had been mollified by the Assembly's apparent commitment to action and the declaration that the King had been kidnapped. Now, on the 17th June, they returned. Their passions were fanned by the speakers of the Cordeliers Club and the crowds surged around the National Assembly building as the National Guard finally remembered that their role was to hold the crowds back. Lafayette himself was quickly summoned to the scene with a further contingent of guardsmen. But the mob would not be quelled. Their fears of conspiracy having been seemingly confirmed, the logical explanation rarely suggesting itself to the emotional mind, the mob tried to break through the guards into ongoing National Assembly meeting. Lafayette and his men stood firm against them, however, and they were repulsed. Brawling soon broke out between the mob and the guard, as well as within the mob, but the National Assembly was disturbed only by the noise penetrating the old riding school that was their meeting hall.
Inside, the delegates were fiercely debating the royal summons which had arrived in Paris at 10:00am that day. Like the crowds outside, the Assembly was divided. As a body, it had endorsed the declaration of the King's kidnapping, but that had been out of expediency not necessarily genuine belief. The delegates were generally moderates, in many cases constitutional monarchists, and so the alternative was too fundamental a blow to contemplate. That made the royal summons the centre point of a debate for their beliefs, their purpose, even their very souls. Did they truly believe their own declaration? If they didn't, were they compelled to answer the royal summons? If they did, what could they do instead? Ultimately, who did they serve? The shouting and sounds of violence outside the walls gave the one answers, their fellows inside the walls gave them a second and, for many, their hearts gave them a third. They had bound themselves by solemn oath on the day of the King's departure to uphold the constitution and rule in the King's stead until his return. Now they could either abdicate those responsibilities or cling to them.
Pierre-Victor Malouët, one of the strongest defenders of the monarchy, spoke at length to demand the Assembly travel at once to the King in Montmedy as "our place is to lead alongside the King, not against him." Word of his speech filtered outside, prompting a renewed attempt by the crowd to break though. Antoine Barnave eventually followed at 2am, upholding the official narrative and demanding National Guard be mobilised to retrieve him. This speech attracted thunderous applause but the debates continued to drag on through the night even after the mob outside had gone home. And onwards the next day, and the next, and the next. Exactly how the Assembly should respond remained a sticking point but was also joined by another urgent question; regardless of how the Assembly decided to respond to Louis XVI, how would France be governed in the meantime? The anger of the mob was soothed by the boredom of these interminable debates and clam was almost restored, outside the rambunctious political clubs and more radical sections at least, until the Assembly final voted to issued a new proclamation by 812 votes.
Known variously as the Proclamation of the 22nd July or the Bergasse Proclamation, it declared that the National Constituent Assembly refused the summons to Montmedy on the basis that the King's religion had evidently been surprised by traitors to the realm. It declared their intention to retrieve the King from his captors, for which task the National Guard and, if necessary, regular army units that were still loyal to the nation would be mobilised. It also declared their continuing exercising of political authority, which was now given a 'legitimate' figurehead in the person of the pro-revolution Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans who was to fill the King's role in the constitutional government as Prince-Regent.
Camille Desmoulins, Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans and Antoine Barnave
It is tempting to see the Flight to Montmedy as the great turning point when the fragile alliance holding the French Revolution on a relatively straight path was broken. In reality, that alliance had been in decline long before June 1791 and had died with the Comte de Mirabeau. Instead, the Flight to Montmedy was an ill-fated attempt to resurrect it on Louis XVI's terms. He had diagnosed at least one aspect of the situation accurately, the people of Paris were wielding a disruptive influence over both the Assembly and his person. He had been correct also that he was more popular outside the the capital than within it. Unfortunately, as so often in his reign, Louis XVI fumbled the conclusion. The National Assembly was no longer, if it had ever been, his to command and the people would not rise in his name.
His allies had anticipated, or at least feared, this. Marie-Antoinette had always been prepared to direct Austrian soldiers to retake Paris, the Marquis de Bouillé had also concluded that it would be necessary and the Baron de Breteuil also expected it. All were to be disappointed. Leopold II would not be roused to help, his promise had been empty and no Austrians would into France that summer as the Ochakov War rumbled on. The 'sublime conspiracy' had achieved the near impossible in getting Louis XVI out of Paris but now it was floundering. The only good news was that the National Assembly, Marquis de Lafayette and Bailly were having an worse time.
The news of the escape/kidnapping had thrown Paris into chaos and the royal summons to Montmedy was like gunpowder on a bonfire. Beliefs in the King's kidnapping or treachery were variously confirmed or disapproved by this single act. The widespread conviction that the Marquis de Lafayette, Bailly and the National Assembly had either actively or passively allowed Paris to be deprived of her King, however, stuck. To the suspicious and the cynical, the events of the last few days were looking increasingly like an attempt to extract the mechanisms of French government from Paris and to remove the voice of the people. The rising radicals in the Cordeliers Club, led chiefly by the towering lawyer Georges Jacques Danton, the erudite journalist Camille Desmoulins and the poisoned pen of Jean-Paul Marat, were quick to give voice to these fears. Crowds thronged to the Tuileries to demand answers from the National Assembly and neither the palace guards, which were mainly the famous Swiss Guards, nor the National Guard would hold them back.
The people of Paris were used to marching on the Tuileries by now, they had marched on the palace only days before when rumours of the King's departure had spread. They had searched the palace from top to bottom in search of the missing King that day and, of course, found nothing. That day they had been mollified by the Assembly's apparent commitment to action and the declaration that the King had been kidnapped. Now, on the 17th June, they returned. Their passions were fanned by the speakers of the Cordeliers Club and the crowds surged around the National Assembly building as the National Guard finally remembered that their role was to hold the crowds back. Lafayette himself was quickly summoned to the scene with a further contingent of guardsmen. But the mob would not be quelled. Their fears of conspiracy having been seemingly confirmed, the logical explanation rarely suggesting itself to the emotional mind, the mob tried to break through the guards into ongoing National Assembly meeting. Lafayette and his men stood firm against them, however, and they were repulsed. Brawling soon broke out between the mob and the guard, as well as within the mob, but the National Assembly was disturbed only by the noise penetrating the old riding school that was their meeting hall.
Inside, the delegates were fiercely debating the royal summons which had arrived in Paris at 10:00am that day. Like the crowds outside, the Assembly was divided. As a body, it had endorsed the declaration of the King's kidnapping, but that had been out of expediency not necessarily genuine belief. The delegates were generally moderates, in many cases constitutional monarchists, and so the alternative was too fundamental a blow to contemplate. That made the royal summons the centre point of a debate for their beliefs, their purpose, even their very souls. Did they truly believe their own declaration? If they didn't, were they compelled to answer the royal summons? If they did, what could they do instead? Ultimately, who did they serve? The shouting and sounds of violence outside the walls gave the one answers, their fellows inside the walls gave them a second and, for many, their hearts gave them a third. They had bound themselves by solemn oath on the day of the King's departure to uphold the constitution and rule in the King's stead until his return. Now they could either abdicate those responsibilities or cling to them.
Pierre-Victor Malouët, one of the strongest defenders of the monarchy, spoke at length to demand the Assembly travel at once to the King in Montmedy as "our place is to lead alongside the King, not against him." Word of his speech filtered outside, prompting a renewed attempt by the crowd to break though. Antoine Barnave eventually followed at 2am, upholding the official narrative and demanding National Guard be mobilised to retrieve him. This speech attracted thunderous applause but the debates continued to drag on through the night even after the mob outside had gone home. And onwards the next day, and the next, and the next. Exactly how the Assembly should respond remained a sticking point but was also joined by another urgent question; regardless of how the Assembly decided to respond to Louis XVI, how would France be governed in the meantime? The anger of the mob was soothed by the boredom of these interminable debates and clam was almost restored, outside the rambunctious political clubs and more radical sections at least, until the Assembly final voted to issued a new proclamation by 812 votes.
Known variously as the Proclamation of the 22nd July or the Bergasse Proclamation, it declared that the National Constituent Assembly refused the summons to Montmedy on the basis that the King's religion had evidently been surprised by traitors to the realm. It declared their intention to retrieve the King from his captors, for which task the National Guard and, if necessary, regular army units that were still loyal to the nation would be mobilised. It also declared their continuing exercising of political authority, which was now given a 'legitimate' figurehead in the person of the pro-revolution Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans who was to fill the King's role in the constitutional government as Prince-Regent.
Ah, it's a reference to a traditional French explanation for the king doing something unpopular or unwise by blaming his ministers or advisors. 'The King's religion has been surprised', it's a euphemism more than anything else.
ITTL, the lack of his Declaration to the French People in the immediate aftermath of the Flight means there is less blame for Louis XVI personally and the blame is against his advisors.
But who is loyal to whom and what is the practical scope of each side’s power and support base?
As a side note, you already drifted so far from the title of this TL that it seemingly became irrelevant. 😢
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I don't see how that's true, the course the Revolution has taken is indeed due to the events that unfolded in Eastern Europe
A very fair question. Admittedly, the French Revolution part so far has been more or less a narrative of the escape. I will be digging more into the actual factions and the situation in future updates, as well as picking up the pace from the immediate events.
It is linked, albeit distantly! But really, the French Revolution is to important in the period to ignore completely. So some time devoted to establishing the change and butterflies was important, before going back to some bigger picture developments incorporating the other great powers.