Chapter 250: The Innate Talent of the Old Quarter's People
"Hmph, that ill-mannered woman!"
Queen Mary placed the silver spoon heavily on the table, angrily chewing the cherry frosting cake in her mouth, and felt that even her usual favorite cake had lost its flavor.
Her pleasant mood from chatting with the Count of Artois earlier that afternoon had completely evaporated because of Madame Adélaïde's visit.
The Queen muttered indignantly:
"Hmph! That old, unmarried princess, what right does she have to meddle in France's political affairs?"
Indeed, Madame Adélaïde was one of the people she disliked most in Versailles—the former had once tried to manipulate her into engaging in court intrigue with Madame du Barry shortly after she married into the palace, making her extremely uncomfortable.
In fact, Joseph also knew that Madame Adélaïde was the first person to secretly refer to the Queen as the 'Austrian wench.'
With her powerful support for the Old Nobility, she could completely counteract the Count of Artois's efforts against the abolition of noble privileges.
...
Nice.
A middle-aged man in a black short jacket and grey cotton breeches stood on a fishmonger's cart, waving his hand as he shouted furiously:
"Who exactly moved the grain reserves His Majesty the King prepared for us? It's because of that lack of grain that the price of bread in the city has more than doubled!
"What do those heartless scoundrels want?
"Do they want to murder us!"
The grain shortage had not long passed, and many had lost relatives and friends during that time. Hearing his words, they immediately stopped and listened, frowning.
The middle-aged man continued:
"Perhaps you've all seen the news.
"Yes, the names on that deck of cards—the Duke of Seville, Count Sérurier, the Duke of Durfort, the Duke of Mouchy... it was them! They used despicable means to steal the grain from the granaries, and then stood by and watched us starve to death!"
This speaker was none other than the man Mirabeau had arranged to send to Nice.
Joseph had deliberately not announced Monnot's privately issued orders or revealed the tampering with the grain reserves. He hadn't even had Monnot arrested yet, all to pin this blame on more significant targets.
Furthermore, the news reaching Paris was that the unrest in the south had not been completely quelled—because Joseph needed this agitated atmosphere to continue, he needed a targeted "uprising."
As for the evidence for this "blame," it simply wasn't important.
The common people only needed an outlet for their anger; they didn't care about evidence. If the members of the Assembly of Notables wanted to defend themselves, they could go province by province across the south. Given the current level of information dissemination, even if they could produce conclusive evidence, it would take at least half a year to explain it clearly to everyone.
What's more, they had no evidence to clear their names at all.
This was the advantage of controlling public opinion. Previously, the great nobles led by the Duke of Orleans had constantly used public opinion as a weapon to smear the royal family; now it was their turn to experience being slandered.
Joseph knew well that he couldn't overthrow so many great nobles at once; even toppling someone like the Duke of Mouchy would be extremely difficult.
But this was France.
What weapon held the greatest power here?
Undoubtedly, it was street riots, mass protests by citizens! The innate talent of the old quarter's people was no joke—it was a terrifying monster that could even devour kings!
As long as this powerful weapon was unleashed, figures like the Duke of Mouchy or the Duke of Durfort would be as fragile as paper.
Even a top-tier noble like the Duke of Orleans would be easily torn to shreds!
Of course, Joseph was even more aware that if this powerful weapon got out of control, it would unleash a terrible backlash.
Therefore, from the very beginning, he had focused on keeping the "monster's" attention within a limited scope, and everyone leading the "monster" was his own agent.
He had even prepared the people to take the blame afterward.
This was all to ensure that after the targeted objectives were eliminated, the "monster" could be made to vanish immediately.
The citizens watching the man in the black jacket immediately began discussing in hushed tones:
"What are these 'playing cards' this gentleman is talking about?"
A young man immediately pulled a small pamphlet from his pocket and flipped to the first page:
"Ah? You don't even know about this? Look, it's this!"
Everyone craned their necks to look and saw neatly drawn playing cards, each with a simple illustration and a name beneath it.
The first card featured the Duke of Mouchy, followed by Count Sérurier...
There were 52 cards in total, effectively sweeping up the entire high command of the Assembly of Notables.
Joseph had arranged this to focus people's anger as much as possible. As soon as everyone on the cards was taken down, the protesters would naturally disperse, having lost their target.
Honestly, the slick tactics invented by later generations of Americans were truly convenient to use.
An elderly onlooker pointed at the pamphlet and loudly asked the speaking middle-aged man:
"Did they really take the grain reserves?"
"It was them!" the latter declared, clenching his fist tightly. "They stole all the grain to their own estates!"
Someone else raised a question:
"But why would they do such a thing?"
"Money, it's all for money!" the black-jacketed speaker declared, pointing eastward. "They steal the grain reserves, and the price of bread in the city rises due to the shortage. Then they sell that grain at exorbitant prices, easily doubling their profit!
"Your lives, my life, and the lives of all the poor, are thus transformed into jingling silver coins in their hands!"
The old man remembered his spouse who had starved to death, and tears immediately blurred his eyes. He gnashed his teeth fiercely and said:
"These scoundrels fit for hell! I, I will seek my revenge on them!"
Many around him also remembered their own lost loved ones and immediately joined in the angry shouts:
"Hang those devils!"
"Let's get our revenge!"
"Make those damned scoundrels pay the price!"
The speaker on the cart hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. He had prepared nearly an hour's worth of speech, but it seemed none of it would be needed.
He immediately waved his hand forcefully, pointing towards the Duke of Durfort's estate:
"Come on! Let's go settle scores with that devil!"
Hearing this, an agent from the Police Intelligence Bureau, who had been waiting nearby, exchanged a glance with the man with the scarred face beside him.
The latter immediately nodded with a fawning smile, then led more than twenty of his men to the very front of the crowd, shouting:
"I know the way! Everyone, follow me!"
The herd mentality drove hundreds of people to follow him. Along the way, other speakers called on citizens to join, and the crowd quickly swelled into a torrent of over a thousand people.
The black-jacketed speaker from before took a cup of water handed to him by a companion and drank a few sips, preparing to rush to the next location to continue agitating the citizens.
Meanwhile, several police officers standing further away had already received "guidance" from the Secret Police and had no intention of interfering.
At 3 PM, a vast crowd surrounded the Duke of Durfort's estate.
The estate guards fearfully pointed their guns at the angry citizens until the butler nervously pushed the door open and emerged, beginning to negotiate with the scarred-faced leader.
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