Chapter 544: Quiet Corsica
When the demonstrators reached Louvre Square, several thousand people had already gathered there, all loudly singing the "Streetlight Happy Song."
Joseph arrived on the second floor of the Louvre Palace via a side entrance and saw the crowd encircling an open space in the middle of the square, where hundreds of scarecrows were piled haphazardly.
The scarecrows' faces were indistinguishable, but from the shouts of the crowd, names like Fould, Bolloré, and De Cantler, all major Tax Farmers, could be heard.
Subsequently, an old woman stepped forward and set fire to those "Tax Farmers," and a thunderous cheer erupted across the square:
“Let those bastards die!”
“Long live His Royal Highness the Crown Prince! Long live His Majesty the King!”
“Thank His Royal Highness the Crown Prince! Thank the General Tax Bureau for sending those devils to hell!”
“Burn the Tax Farmers! Burn them all!”
The fierce flames blazed, and people immediately began to sing around the fire, while others started weeping openly.
This was their victory—the first time they had challenged a behemoth like the Tax Farmers, and the newly established Tax Bureau had achieved a resounding triumph.
Witnessing the joyful and contented expressions of the people in the square, they felt that they had brought fairness and justice to France, and their own lives seemed all the brighter for it.
After a long silence, Chaumette suddenly spoke:
“Mr. Robespierre, it's a good thing I accepted your advice; otherwise, I would have missed such a magnificent moment.”
It was Robespierre who, at a Jacobin meeting, had called upon everyone to join the Tax Bureau. At the time, despite his many assurances, Chaumette remained very hesitant—most attendees at the meeting shared his aversion to serving as government officials.
Nevertheless, Robespierre succeeded in convincing quite a few people, Chaumette among them.
Robespierre smiled, then spoke gravely:
“It's a good thing I met His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, otherwise...”
He suddenly raised his voice:
“He truly is a very special royal. Someone... who can bring justice and happiness to the people; he is far more suited to do these things than we are.”
Darty, standing nearby, appeared even more agitated. He had once been the most skeptical Jacobin regarding Robespierre, joining the Tax Bureau specifically to prove him wrong, yet now he had become Joseph's fervent supporter.
He then declared loudly, “Mr. Rousseau taught us how to act, and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is making it happen! France is great because of them!”
Robespierre nodded slightly. “Yes, we will witness a great France...”
...
Corsica.
In a light gray villa on the outskirts of Ajaccio, the newly appointed Governor, Count Buttafuoco, handed a confidential report to the acting commander of the Corsican garrison before him:
“This is information Mr. Girolamo gathered from the separatist parliamentarians. Although it's not detailed enough, we must still treat it with caution.”
Napoleon took the confidential report and unfolded it. On it was a list of names, followed by the note: 'Paoli may soon incite riots in the mountain regions; these are the individuals closely associated with him.'
Count Buttafuoco said, somewhat nervously, “Most of these people are parliamentarians still loyal to Paoli, along with some high-ranking members of separatist organizations.
“Perhaps you could mobilize troops in advance. Should any trouble arise, we could immediately suppress it.”
Following a series of previous setbacks, Paoli's standing in Corsica had plummeted.
This prompted him to make a final struggle, gathering all the forces he could still influence and promising great rewards, intending to incite riots in his home region. Afterward, he would risk returning to Corsica, repeating his father's strategy of assembling an army from the hungry populace amidst the chaos.
Napoleon frowned slightly and shook his head. “Governor, there are hundreds of villages in Mount Cinto. Our current intelligence is simply insufficient for us to deploy defenses.”
Count Buttafuoco urged, “You must think of a way! Things have just started to stabilize; we can't afford any more trouble.”
His position as Governor was far from secure; if a riot broke out now, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince would likely replace him.
Napoleon's expression also grew solemn. Hadn't he just been promoted himself, his title even prefixed with 'acting'? Naturally, he too wished for Corsica to achieve stability.
“No, fighting in those mountain villages would be unwise,” he suddenly shook his head. “We should resolve the problem from a higher level.”
“You mean?”
As the two spoke, the Governor's butler entered and bowed. “My lord, there's an officer outside who wishes to see Mr. Bonaparte.”
Napoleon recognized the Captain's face through the doorway and immediately apologized to Count Buttafuoco. “I'm afraid I have an urgent matter. As for the riots, I will handle them; please rest assured.”
“Oh, thank God! Then I'll be relying entirely on you.”
Napoleon took his leave of the Governor and, once inside his carriage, looked at the officer opposite him. “Have those individuals been brought here?”
“Yes, Commander, they are currently in the warehouse south of the barracks.”
“Excellent. I'll go see them.”
Before long, the carriage pulled up outside the warehouse, and Napoleon immediately heard curses from within.
He smiled, pushed the door open, and entered. Several soldiers inside immediately stood at attention and saluted him.
Napoleon nodded at them, then looked towards the three men seated in the corner and, placing a hand over his chest, said:
“It is an honor to meet Your Honors, the Judges. I hope my soldiers have not acted impolitely.”
“It's you indeed! You madman!” a lean-faced judge in his forties exclaimed angrily. “Let us go back at once!”
Another elderly man also shouted, “This is kidnapping! I will press charges against you and your soldiers!”
Napoleon motioned for a soldier to bring a chair, then sat down opposite the three men, a faint smile on his face:
“As soon as you declare those captives innocent, I will send you back immediately.”
He was referring to the more than 400 National Guard soldiers captured during the previous crackdown on their forces.
After executing some of the hardcore officers, he had integrated the remaining soldiers into his own unit.
However, although these men had been acquitted by the military tribunal, the Corsican court insisted on sentencing them for sedition, in accordance with parliamentary decrees.
According to French regulations, individuals convicted of such serious crimes were prohibited from joining the military; even if forcibly conscripted, the General Staff would not pay them.
“You're dreaming!” the lean-faced judge declared firmly. “I will not act against the law!”
The other two judges also maintained stern expressions, remaining silent.
Seeing this, Napoleon stood up and said to a nearby soldier, “It seems the judges still need some time to consider. Please ensure their safety. I will return in ten days.”
“Madman! Let us go!”
The three judges immediately tried to grab him and argue, but the soldiers pressed them back into their chairs.
Napoleon exited the warehouse and said to the officer beside him, “Please mobilize two companies—Rabaud's and Boileau's, if you would. They should assemble in front of the Parliament Hall tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Commander!”
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