The Parisii lost. Now what?

After the defeat at Alesia, the world of the Parisii will never be the same. Rome doesn’t just conquer - it transforms. Watch as Celtic villages become Roman cities, as druids disappear and Latin replaces Gaulish, as a people’s entire identity shifts across three generations.

This is the story of what happened to the Parisii after conquest. It’s about grandfathers who remember freedom teaching grandchildren who only know empire. It’s about the painful beauty of survival and adaptation. And it’s about how a muddy settlement called Lutetia becomes a proper Roman city - complete with baths, amphitheaters, aqueducts, and all the infrastructure of civilization.

But nothing lasts forever. When Germanic tribes breach the Rhine frontier and the empire crumbles, Lutetia retreats to a fortified island. The stones of the amphitheater become fortress walls. A new faith - Christianity - takes root. And an elderly nun named Geneviève saves the city from Attila the Hun through sheer force of will and faith.

Rome is falling. But Paris is being born.

So begins a deep dive series into the complete history of Paris.

Paris wasn’t always Paris. Before the Eiffel Tower, before Notre-Dame, before croissants and café culture, there was a Celtic tribe living along the Seine who had no idea they were about to give their name to one of the world’s most iconic cities.

The History of Paris takes you on an epic journey through over two thousand years of drama, conquest, transformation, and survival. From Celtic warriors to Roman emperors, from Frankish kings to medieval cathedrals, from revolution to modernity - this is the story of how a muddy island in a river became the City of Light.

Each episode dives deep into a specific era, bringing history to life through vivid storytelling that feels more like your fascinating friend telling you a story over drinks than a dusty textbook. We’ll meet the people who shaped Paris - the famous and the forgotten - and explore what their lives were actually like. No boring lectures, no skipping the good parts. Just great stories, historically accurate and deeply human.

Whether you’re planning a trip to Paris, obsessed with history, or just love a good story spanning millennia, join us as we uncover the layers of one of humanity’s greatest cities.

Paris wasn’t built in a day. But we’ve got time.

And if you love it and want to support my work, please consider a paid subscription on my substack, or patreon.

— Chicano In Paris

In the late 1980s, while much of the world witnessed revolutions marked by violence and political upheaval, the small Baltic nation of Estonia achieved independence in a way unlike any other—through song. Known as The Singing Revolution, this peaceful movement saw hundreds of thousands of Estonians gather in public squares, linking arms and singing forbidden national hymns as an act of defiance against Soviet occupation. It was a revolution without bullets, where the weapon of choice was melody, and the battlefield was a song festival stage.

A Nation Under Oppression

Estonia had been forcibly annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940, enduring decades of repression. The Soviets banned national symbols, censored the Estonian language, and exiled or executed intellectuals. Yet, despite these efforts, Estonia’s cultural identity survived—largely through music. The Estonian Song Festival, a tradition dating back to 1869, became a subtle act of resistance. Every five years, tens of thousands gathered to sing folk songs, keeping their heritage alive under Soviet watch.

The Power of Mass Singing

The movement gained momentum in 1987, when Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev’s policies of glasnost (openness) allowed for greater freedom of expression. Estonians seized the opportunity. In June 1988, over 100,000 people gathered at the Tallinn Song Festival Grounds for the "Night of Songs." They defiantly sang patriotic anthems like "Mu isamaa on minu arm" ("Land of My Fathers, Land That I Love"), which had been banned for decades.

The protests grew. In September 1988, 300,000 people—nearly a third of Estonia’s population—stood together at the Song Festival Grounds, waving the outlawed blue-black-white Estonian flag and demanding independence. Soviet authorities, unsure how to respond to such a peaceful yet massive demonstration, hesitated to use force.

A Peaceful Victory

The Singing Revolution reached its climax in 1991. As Soviet hardliners attempted a coup in Moscow, Estonians organized a human chain with Latvia and Lithuania, linking hands across 370 miles in the Baltic Way protest. Months later, when the USSR collapsed, Estonia declared full independence—without a single life lost in violent conflict.

Legacy of Harmony Over Conflict

Today, the Singing Revolution stands as one of history’s most remarkable examples of nonviolent resistance. Estonia’s independence was won not with guns, but with unity and song. The tradition continues—every five years, the Song Festival still draws massive crowds, now as a celebration of freedom.

In a world where revolutions are often bloody, Estonia proved that sometimes, the most powerful force for change is simply people raising their voices together. As one Estonian activist put it: "We showed that a nation can be reborn through song."

Let’s learn a little something about a rather heartbreaking story during the French Revolution…

One of the most enduring mysteries of the French Revolution is the fate of Louis-Charles, Dauphin of France, the young son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. After the execution of his parents, the boy—technically King Louis XVII in the eyes of royalists—vanished in 1795 under suspicious circumstances. His disappearance spawned countless legends, impostors, and conspiracy theories that persist to this day.

A Prince in Captivity

Born in 1785, Louis-Charles was just four years old when the Revolution erupted. Following the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, the royal family was imprisoned. After his father’s execution in 1793, royalists proclaimed the eight-year-old Louis-Charles as the rightful king. However, the revolutionary government saw him as a threat and placed him in solitary confinement in the Temple Prison, under the brutal watch of Antoine Simon, a shoemaker tasked with “re-educating” him into rejecting monarchy.

Conditions were horrific—the boy was kept in filth, likely abused, and forced to accuse his mother of incest (a Revolutionary smear tactic). By 1794, he was isolated in a dark, vermin-infested cell, his health deteriorating rapidly.

The Official Death—Or Was It?

In June 1795, the French government announced that Louis-Charles had died of tuberculosis at age 10. An autopsy was performed, and his heart was allegedly smuggled out by a doctor (later tested via DNA in 2000, confirming it was likely his). However, rumors immediately spread that the body buried was not his—that the real Dauphin had been swapped for a dying orphan to enable his escape.

The Impostors and Legends

For decades, over 100 men claimed to be the Lost Dauphin. The most famous was Karl Wilhelm Naundorff, a German clockmaker who convinced some supporters with his knowledge of Versailles. Another, Eleazar Williams, a Native American missionary, even claimed the U.S. government had offered him the French throne!

Historians remain divided. Some believe he died in prison, while others argue royalists or foreign agents could have rescued him. The truth may never be known, but the legend endures—a tragic footnote in the fall of the French monarchy.

Conclusion

The mystery of Louis XVII reflects the chaos of the Revolution—a child caught between warring ideologies, his fate buried under myth and politics. Whether he died in captivity or escaped into obscurity, his story remains one of history’s great unsolved enigmas.

In the golden haze of Belle Époque Paris, Jacqueline Marval was a flame that burned too quietly—but far too brightly to ignore. Born Marie Josephine Vallet in 1866, she didn’t begin painting until her late thirties. She was a seamstress, a teacher, a woman recovering from the death of her child and the collapse of her marriage. In the face of grief, she picked up a paintbrush—and reimagined her life.

Paris in 1900 was bursting with modernism, but it still had little room for women who refused to follow rules. Marval was one of them. She changed her name, moved in with fellow painter Jules Flandrin, and began working obsessively. Her first major submission to the Salon des Indépendants was bold: ten paintings that blended Fauvism’s wild color with a uniquely feminine power. The critics called her daring. Brazen. Even “too sensual.” But artists like Matisse and Picasso took note. And so did the collectors.

Unlike many women artists of her time, Marval refused to stay in the margins. She painted women not as muses, but as full, autonomous beings—bathing, lounging, dancing, working. Her work rejected both sentimentality and the male gaze. Her 1903 painting Les Odalisques—five women in a domestic, almost indifferent pose—was sensual without being submissive. She portrayed women with presence.

Through the 1910s and 1920s, Marval became a fixture of the Parisian art world. She exhibited widely in Europe and beyond. At one point, she was outselling some of her male peers. Her circle included Braque, Léger, and Apollinaire. She was a modernist without a manifesto—deeply independent, quietly revolutionary.

And then—nearly forgotten.

When Marval died in 1932, her name faded almost instantly. She had no school, no male benefactor championing her posthumously. Museums hung her work in storage. Art history books skipped her name. Like so many women in art, she was boxed up, catalogued, erased.

But she’s coming back.

Today, galleries and scholars are rediscovering Marval’s bold palette, her defiant compositions, and her radical claim to artistic space. Her life reminds us that modernism wasn’t just made by the men in berets—it was also shaped by women who dared to paint themselves into the frame.

Jacqueline Marval didn’t ask for permission. She created a world on her own terms. And now, nearly a century later, we’re finally catching up to her.

In the U.S., it’s tacos and tequila. In Mexico, it’s a point of pride. In France? It’s mostly a memory they’d like to leave in the attic.

In the latest episode of A Chicano in Paris, host Rudy Martinez unpacks the real story behind Cinco de Mayo—a tale that’s less about party hats and more about patriotism, resistance, and one humiliating defeat for the French empire. Delivered with Rudy’s signature blend of sharp humor, historical insight, and global perspective, the episode brings new life to the Battle of Puebla of 1862.

It wasn’t Mexican Independence Day (that’s in September), but it was the moment a ragtag Mexican army, under General Ignacio Zaragoza, stopped one of the most modern military forces in the world dead in its tracks. France had dreams of empire. Mexico had pride, grit, and the high ground.

This battle wasn’t just about strategy—it was a slap in the face to colonial ambition. And while Napoleon III thought he could replay his uncle’s imperial glory, he got schooled instead—first at Puebla, and later, through a costly occupation that fell apart once the U.S. Civil War ended and Washington remembered the Monroe Doctrine.

Rudy doesn’t just retell history—he connects it to today. Drawing a line from Mexico’s resistance to Ukraine’s modern-day struggle, the episode becomes more than a history lesson. It’s a meditation on what it means to stand your ground, no matter the odds.

And in true Chicano in Paris fashion, Rudy shines a light on the quieter corners of memory (and talks about himself in the third person, apparently). The French Foreign Legion may raise a toast to their fallen on May 5th, but France, as a whole? They’ve mostly ghosted the whole affair.

This isn’t just a story of a battle—it’s the anatomy of an underdog win. And Rudy reminds us that while France brought a Ferrari to a go-kart race and lost, Mexico brought heart, and that changed everything.

So next time you sip a margarita on Cinco de Mayo, take a moment to toast to the power of resistance, to the memory of General Zaragoza, and to the truth that sometimes the underdog doesn’t just survive—they win.

Enjoy!

🎙️ Secret History of French Food – A Chicano in Paris

Ever wonder what French food isn’t really French? Or why monks once feared champagne? 🍾👀 In this episode of A Chicano in Paris, we dive fork-first into the scandalous, surprising, and downright bizarre origins of iconic French cuisine.

From croissants with secret Viennese roots to champagne once dubbed “the devil’s drink”, we’re serving up the untold stories behind France’s most beloved bites. 🥐🍷🐌 You’ll learn how escargot climbed from peasant survival food to gourmet delicacy, why the humble baguette is a revolutionary symbol, and how France fell head over heels for moldy cheese (in the best way possible).

If you’ve ever savored a long Parisian lunch or wondered why meals here feel like sacred rituals, this episode is for you. It’s history you can taste, with a side of butter and a dash of rebellion.

🎧 Tune in for a flavorful ride through the Secret History of French Food—where every bite has a backstory. Bon appétit!

And don’t forget to check out our sponsor: protest-tees.com

#FrenchFoodHistory #AChicanoInParis #CroissantOrigins #ChampagneSecrets #EscargotEvolution #BaguetteRevolution #FrenchCuisinePodcast #HiddenHistory #FoodiePodcast

In the shadows of Nazi-occupied Paris, a respected doctor betrayed the desperate, offering escape—only to deliver unspeakable horror. This is the chilling story of Dr. Marcel Petiot, the serial killer who preyed on hope during wartime. Join me, Rudy Martinez, on A Chicano in Paris, as we uncover the darkness lurking behind a smiling face and the chaos that let evil thrive. Stay curious. Stay vigilant.

Be sure to visit our sponsor, protest-tees.com.

Find this episode on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

This episode of A Chicano in Paris delves into the untold stories of the women and teenagers who played pivotal roles in the French Resistance during World War II. It highlights their courage, ingenuity, and defiance in the face of Nazi oppression, showcasing figures like Lucie Aubrac, Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, Simone Segouin, and Guy Môquet. The narrative connects their struggles to modern-day movements for justice and freedom, emphasizing how ordinary people can spark extraordinary change. It’s a powerful reminder of the enduring legacy of resistance and the importance of standing up against tyranny, no matter the odds.

As always, this episode is sponsored by protest-tees.com

In this episode, we dive deep into the story of St. Geneviève, the fearless woman who saved Paris centuries before Joan of Arc was even born. From standing against Attila the Hun to managing a city on the brink of starvation, we uncover how Genevieve’s faith and leadership turned the tide. Explore why her legacy is often overshadowed and why her story still resonates today.