Chapter 948: Schérer's Travels I
Chapter 948: Schérer's Travels I
"It is fortunate that we broached the subject today." Talleyrand limped along beside Zubov as they walked out of the house, glancing sideways. "However, I believe this might be a rather excellent opportunity for you."
Zubov didn't immediately catch his meaning. "The opportunity you speak of...?"
Talleyrand lowered his voice. "Since you assumed the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Guards, you have yet to achieve a victory in a major campaign.
"If you can defeat the Persians this time, seize a vast amount of territory in the Caucasus, or even march into Persia itself, I am certain His Majesty the Tsar will see you in a completely different light."
Zubov's heart skipped a beat.
As an ambitious favorite, his greatest desire was to surpass Potemkin, the Tsar's most cherished general.
He was more handsome than Potemkin and better at pleasing the Tsar, but the only thing he lacked was military merit.
Potemkin had conquered Moldavia on the western shore of the Black Sea for the Empire; he would seize the Caucasus on the eastern shore!
......
The Rhineland.
Kastellaun, a small town in the western Palatinate.
Inside an ordinary residence along the street, Baron Schérer glanced at the spread of smoked sausage, chicken, vegetable soup, and mashed potatoes on the table. He nodded politely to the elderly couple sitting across from him. "Thank you for your hospitality. This is truly a feast, Mr. and Mrs. Niklas."
In truth, such food was merely average to him, but he knew that for a family like the Niklasses, this was likely a meal reserved only for holidays and celebrations.
Mrs. Niklas smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "I only hope it suits your palate. Besides, you paid so much for the room..."
Indeed, Schérer and his wife were only staying there temporarily.
They had originally planned to cross the Rhine from Strasbourg to enter France, but they heard halfway there that Count Latour, fearing an attack from Masséna, had ordered the destruction of all river-crossing facilities, including docks and bridges. It would be impossible to pass for some time.
Thus, Schérer was forced to detour through the Palatinate, heading south from Saarland toward Reims.
However, when they arrived in Kastellaun, they discovered the town was hosting something called the Hercules Cup Football Tournament. Every inn was fully booked.
Finally, thanks to a helpful introduction from an innkeeper, they found a place to stay at the Niklas home.
In this era, the practice of taking in boarders was quite common, and many citizens were willing to provide lodging for a fee.
The people around the table offered a short prayer. Just as Schérer picked up his spoon, a chaotic shouting drifted in from outside.
"Elect an assembly immediately!"
"Frenchmen, get out of the Palatinate!"
"We want freedom! The French have no right to rule here!"
Schérer grew excited. He hurried to the window and saw seventy or eighty people carrying banners, shouting as they marched down the street.
He turned to Niklas, his eyes bright. "So, you have liberals here as well!
"Are the police strict? Let's go out and support them in a moment..."
Mr. Niklas stepped forward and pulled the curtains shut with a sharp snap. He looked at Schérer with a peculiar expression. "What are you saying? Why would you support those rioters?"
Schérer blinked, then let out a knowing laugh. "Are you worried about the police? Yes, those damnable henchmen!
"But believe me, as long as we move quickly, they won't catch us. I have experience..."
The old man's tone turned cold. "Mr. Schérer, if you continue to speak such nonsense, I shall have to ask you to leave."
"No, no, listen to me. Freedom must be fought for by all of us!" Seeing the man's stubbornness, Schérer waved his arms and raised his voice, imitating the street orators of Vienna. "Otherwise, how will the King and his lackeys ever lower those terrible taxes? How will they stop—"
Niklas interrupted him. "They already have. His Majesty the King arrested those wretched tax farmers. The tax rate is nearly half of what it used to be."
"Wait, what?" Schérer was stunned for a moment, but he quickly rallied. "Yes, the taxes are lower, but are you satisfied with just that? Jobs, life, rights—there is so much more to fight for..."
The old man was already walking toward the door. "It seems you are one of them, a rioter. We were almost fooled like that once before.
"Now, please leave. Anne, give him back his lodging money."
"No, but wait," Schérer argued. "Why are you defending that man in the palace? Freedom and human rights are—"
Mrs. Niklas spoke up softly from the side. "But the King is very good. I mean, the King in Paris.
"After the French arrived, they built a salt refinery on the outskirts of town. Many people from the city work there, and the wages are much higher than in the old factories. My two sons work there boiling water, and they earn 13 florins a month."
"Conditions here are still relatively poor," Niklas added, pointing out the window. "I heard that at the quarries near Cologne or the coking plants in Brühl, the wages can reach 17 florins a month. So, you want to join those rioters and ruin all of this? You want us to go back to the way things were?"
Seeing that Schérer had fallen silent, the old man's voice softened slightly. "You are from out of town, so you probably don't know.
"The King sent new police who arrested the gang members, and they never beat people without cause.
"Now, the children can get footballs from the church to play with, and they even get prize money if they play well.
"And across the street, they opened a... what was it called?"
"A department store," the old lady reminded him.
"Right, a department store. It's full of exquisite French goods, and the prices are cheaper than what the merchant caravans used to bring.
"Oh, and every month there are free opera performances in the street."
The old lady added, "I heard that starting next year, the church will even teach the children to read for free."
Niklas gave Schérer another look before sitting back down in his chair. He gestured toward the window. "Those fellows out there are just scoundrels and loafers. I don't know what they're making a fuss about all day. If the police weren't stopping me, I'd go out and give them a thrashing myself!"
Schérer stood there with his mouth open. It took a long time before he could manage a single sentence. "But... even so, one must still strive for freedom and human rights."
The old man looked at him in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. Freedom? No one has thrown you in prison, have they?
"And now, even the serfs can come into the city whenever they like. What more freedom do you want?"
Mrs. Niklas whispered another reminder. "There are no more serfs now."
"Ah, yes. The King abolished serfdom. From now on, they only need to pay redemption money for twelve years, and they can own their own land."
Schérer gasped. "Is... is that true?"
"Of course. You can ask anyone. It's the same throughout the entire Palatinate."
Schérer felt his head spinning.
He had spent his life fighting for assemblies and elections, but even if an assembly were to govern this small town, could they possibly do any better than this?
Comments