Chapter 1451: The Fire Brigade
"I was thinking..."
Before Queen Marie could come up with a response, the nurse by the bedside removed the thermometer from Louis XVI’s mouth and handed it to the imperial physician.
The surrounding nobles immediately crowded in. The Count of Artois, being the closest, read the display aloud: "A hundred and four degrees... God! This... what are we to do?"
Queen Marie, who had been about to say the King could certainly make it to Brittany, was now equally stunned. It seemed she had overplayed her hand.
She had initially only intended for the "illness" to be severe enough to prevent the nobles from stopping the King’s departure from Paris. However, it was clear that no one suffering from a hundred-and-four-degree fever should be subjected to a journey of nearly four hundred miles.
The room fell into a brief, heavy silence. Then, the Duke of Broglie was the first to lean in and whisper, "I believe we must immediately convene an emergency session of the Senate to discuss how to handle this situation."
Archbishop Talleyrand glanced at him before stepping into the center of the room. "The most urgent priority is to notify His Highness the Crown Prince and have him return to Versailles to take charge."
The others nodded in agreement.
The Duke of Richelieu added, "Furthermore, we must temporarily suppress all news regarding His Majesty's condition from the public."
Beside them, Queen Marie stood rooted to the spot. Why did this sound like they were already discussing the King’s funeral arrangements?
She waved her hands frantically. "No, it surely isn't that serious. There’s no need to call Joseph back yet..."
The most critical part of her plan relied on the fact that Joseph was currently in Marseille inspecting the new site for the Bank for European Settlements. She had chosen this window specifically to avoid his scrutiny—she had no confidence in her ability to deceive her eldest son.
She needed to use this time gap to have the Senate and the High Court quickly pass the Prince Regent's Charter. By the time Joseph returned, even if he suspected something was amiss, he would have no choice but to accept the fait accompli.
The Count of Artois sighed, stepped to her side, and offered comfort. "Your Majesty, I understand your feelings, and I trust that the Lord will protect my brother. But for the sake of the state, we must prepare for every eventuality."
Marie began signaling Dr. Petit desperately, urging him with her eyes to say something like "the King’s condition is under control."
However, the doctor assumed she was pushing him to stick to the original script. He said with a note of helplessness, "Well, I am confident that I can cure His Majesty once we reach Brittany..."
"You had better know what you are saying!"
Richelieu snapped, glaring at him. "The King was crowned at Versailles, and it is here he must return to the kingdom of heaven if it is God's will. That is the legitimacy the dynasty requires!"
The Duke of Montmorency chimed in. "I am certain His Majesty would not wish to leave Versailles at a time like this."
Dr. Petit, withered by the scolding of such powerful figures, could only look to the Queen for help.
According to French royal tradition, a King should be born at Versailles and die at Versailles. The succession must take place under the watchful eyes of the nobility to maintain the sacred order of the monarchy.
A vital ceremony involved the gathered nobility in the royal bedchamber shouting, "The King is dead, long live the King!" as a mark of the legitimate transfer of power.
Queen Marie was sweating even more than the physician now.
Subconsciously, she knew her husband was fine, so she hadn't considered that the ministers' primary concern would be the King's actual passing.
She was already debating whether to suddenly announce the King had "recovered" tomorrow to end this chaos.
Just then, the Duke of Lévis pushed through the crowd and approached the bed. He bowed to Queen Marie. "Your Majesty, I heard of the King's sudden illness, so I have brought Dr. Corvisart and his colleagues."
He gestured behind him. The Director of the Medical and Health Bureau stood at the door along with several of France's top physicians.
Marie froze, looking guiltily toward Petit, Bichat, and the other imperial doctors.
She had only coordinated with her inner circle of physicians. If Corvisart and the others realized the King was faking, the humiliation would be unbearable.
'Your Majesty, you need not worry. Dr. Corvisart is here to help.'
A whisper reached Marie’s ear. Surprised, she turned to see her lady-in-waiting, the Duchess of Lévis, standing behind her.
Under the tense gazes of Petit and the other imperial doctors, Corvisart and Du Mangran conducted a thorough examination of the King. Afterward, Corvisart addressed the room. "Based on my experience, His Majesty’s condition is still in a manageable stage. With meticulous treatment, there is a high probability of recovery."
Artois and the others looked toward Dr. Petit in confusion.
The imperial physician looked back at the Queen with a strained expression.
Marie glanced at the Duchess of Lévis, who gave a slight nod.
Dr. Petit felt as if he had been granted a divine reprieve. "Yes, yes, Monsieur Corvisart is correct. Although His Majesty is suffering from typhus, the bacteria seem to be under suppression. It... it is quite a miracle..."
The Prince of Condé frowned. "But His Majesty has a fever of a hundred and four degrees?"
Corvisart immediately interjected, "That is merely a common reaction in the early stages of typhus. In some cases, the higher the fever, the faster the recovery tends to be."
As he finished, he prayed silently: 'I hope none of the doctors present ever quote this in a medical paper...'
Indeed, he had only been brought in by the Duke of Lévis to save the situation.
Queen Marie breathed a silent sigh of relief. "In that case, what treatment do you recommend?"
Standing at the edge of the room, Baron Breteuil raised his hand and spoke loudly. "The Fontainebleau Sanatorium. It has the finest medical equipment and a comfortable environment perfectly suited for recovery."
Though he held the high office of Imperial Chancellor, his noble rank was relatively modest, barely qualifying him to be in the King’s bedchamber.
The Duke of Lévis immediately voiced his support. "That is indeed the best course of action. Fontainebleau is very close to Paris. Even if something unexpected occurs, His Majesty can be quickly brought back to Versailles."
Currently, a steam railcar service ran between Fontainebleau and Paris, making the one-way trip in less than three hours.
Seeing her lady-in-waiting signaling her frantically, Marie quickly nodded. "Very well, to Fontainebleau it is."
The Count of Artois, the Duke of Richelieu, and the others exchanged looks. They found no reason to object. After all, if the King could be saved, they should try—and Fontainebleau was nowhere near as distant as Brittany.
Before long, servants carried Louis XVI to a carriage, which then transferred him to a steam railcar.
As the railcar lurched into motion, the Duke of Lévis and Baron Breteuil requested an audience outside the Queen’s carriage compartment.
Queen Marie was full of praise for the Duke of Lévis. Had he not brought the people from the Medical and Health Bureau today, she wouldn't have known how to resolve the mess.
"I merely did my duty as your servant," the Duke of Lévis replied with a humble bow. He then added, "Your Majesty, there is another matter of great importance. His Majesty will likely require a significant amount of time to recover. This leaves Versailles temporarily without anyone to preside over the government."
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