The Fox of France

Chapter 88: Crisis

With Fouche's vote, the fate of Louis XVI was essentially sealed. Fouche cast the three hundred and fifty-fifth vote in favor of the death penalty, only six votes away from the three hundred and sixty-one needed to behead Louis XVI. And behind Fouche, there were still many Montagnards who had not yet voted, and their resolve was almost unwavering. The remaining Brissotins, on the other hand, were less predictable. The die was cast. Shortly thereafter, some new turncoats among the Brissotin deputies appeared behind Fouche. In the end, out of the seven hundred and twenty votes, three hundred and eighty-seven were in favor of the death penalty, and three hundred and thirty-three were in favor of clemency. Louis XVI's death sentence was approved, making him the second European monarch to be sentenced to death.

In fact, there were economic reasons for trying the king. As the king was sentenced to death, the property of the exiled nobles was immediately confiscated and used as collateral to issue more assignats. Under normal circumstances, these lands and assets would provide France's finances with a significant buffer. However, in any era, war is a financial abyss, and the war between France and Austria and Prussia had not yet ended.

...

After taking over Belgium, the French army began to reorganize. Joseph, with time on his hands, strolled through the streets of Aachen with his brother.

Though they were merely strolling, both brothers noticed different things. Napoleon meticulously observed the layout of the streets of Aachen, mentally simulating urban warfare strategies over and over again. As for Joseph, he made a simple observation: the prices in Aachen had significantly increased, and shopkeepers seemed reluctant to deal with the French, especially those in military uniforms. For instance, when Joseph and Napoleon went to a small tavern without their uniforms, Joseph asked in German, "Do you have brandy?" The innkeeper immediately replied, "Yes, we do. Will you pay with marks?" The innkeeper's face lit up.

"Isn't a livre acceptable?" Joseph continued.

"A livre? Silver, right? Silver is also acceptable, but we don't accept assignats," the innkeeper replied.

"Silver," Joseph said while placing a few silver coins on the counter.

"Very well," the innkeeper, seeing the silver, cheerfully responded, "One livre for a glass."

"What? Wasn't it two livres for a glass before?" Joseph asked in surprise.

"That was before the French arrived," a voice chimed in from the side. Joseph turned to see a red-haired young man holding a foamy beer. He raised his glass with a slight smile when he met Joseph's gaze.

"Yes, that was before the French arrived. Ever since the French came, everything has gone up in price," the innkeeper added.

It was a normal occurrence. Soldiers, living with uncertainty, were often willing to spend their money. Whenever a large group of soldiers arrived in an area, it would often lead to booming businesses in certain sectors, such as alcohol and other less reputable trades, causing prices to rise.

"So, innkeeper, you must be making quite a bit of money," Joseph said with a smile.

"Not really," the innkeeper shook his head. "At first, it was okay, but now, they come with these small pieces of paper and demand drinks. Isn't that cheating? Of course, I refused, and they even threatened to hang me from a lamppost, calling me a counter-revolutionary. Nowadays, we can't afford not to accept their paper, but we have to hide the good stuff in advance so they don't see it."

In France, to ensure the acceptance of assignats, the National Convention had issued laws prohibiting shopkeepers from refusing them. Those who insisted on rejecting assignats could face consequences, including being hanged. However, this wasn't France.

Soldiers had no choice but to come out and relax, spending their money.

Initially, in times of great peril on the frontlines, to boost soldiers' morale, the French government paid them in real metallic currency. But after the Battle of Valmy, assignats began to appear in soldiers' pay, and after the victory at Jemappes, assignats replaced metallic currency in their payments. By the time Louis XVI was beheaded, there was no metallic currency left in their pay.

Of course, this was Danton's version of events, and there was another account suggesting that, even in this special moment, to maintain stability, the government continued to pay the troops in metallic currency. However, General Dampierre had allegedly exchanged this metallic currency for assignats himself before distributing it to the soldiers.

Rumors abounded that some soldiers were engaging in a particular type of trade near the French military camps, exchanging coins for assignats. This exchange rate was even more favorable than the one in France. Unwilling to be exploited, a group of irate soldiers not only beat up a merchant but also took around two hundred silver livres from him, giving him four hundred paper livres in return.

General Dampierre, who typically paid little attention to such matters, was furious and declared that such lawless behavior was unforgivable and stirred up public resentment. He asserted that these practices were heinous crimes, arousing public anger to the point where the people were calling for the miscreants' execution. As a result, the soldiers who had committed the theft were hanged, setting a precedent for military discipline.

Many soldiers suspected that the reason General Dampierre had reacted so strongly was because he was allegedly connected to the merchants involved in the coin-to-assignat exchange. These unsubstantiated speculations quickly spread throughout the entire army, further dampening troop morale.

Joseph tossed two livres to the innkeeper and took two glasses of brandy. He continued to scan the street outside, contemplating how to set up an ambush there with a cannon and blast Napoleon to hell. He sat down by the street-side window.

As the two brothers had just taken their seats and sipped their brandy, chaos erupted outside. There was shouting, followed by gunshots, cries, and screams, all mingled together in a tumultuous cacophony.

"What's happening?" Joseph stood up and looked outside.

A man rushed in, his face pale, and shouted, "The French are robbing and killing people!"

...

In a short span of time, the French had lost the support of the people in Belgium. Initially, most ordinary Belgians welcomed the arrival of the French army. However, the French army's actions turned their dreams into nightmares. Many individuals who had once flirted with the French while under Austrian rule now found themselves cooperating with the Austrians again. It was even conceivable that once Austria launched a counteroffensive, the entire of Belgium might rise against the French.

Yet, to address their financial difficulties and prepare for the looming second wave of intervention, which was costly, France needed more funds from Belgium.

The National Convention dispatched a host of envoys to Belgium with the aim of extracting additional funds from these regions.

Revolutionary measures were expected to accompany any military campaign. These measures called for the confiscation of all property belonging to those who despised the revolution, including the church, nobility, and their loyalists, to be used for the revolutionary cause, primarily as collateral for assignats. Furthermore, all taxes and seigniorial rights in liberated areas were to be abolished, with old tax systems replaced by levies on local wealthy individuals. Administrative systems in these liberated areas were to be reformed, and only those who pledged allegiance to liberty and renounced their privileges would have the right to vote and be elected. To prevent coins from flowing into these areas and out of France, the use of metallic currency in these regions would be prohibited, and assignats would be enforced.

The leaders of the National Convention believed that these measures would create a division between the lower classes and the aristocracy in the occupied regions.

The delegate who proposed this plan, Cambon, declared, "Fire on the palace, peace to the cottages. This way, we can stand our ground anywhere."

Most of the Convention deputies supported this proposal, and it was swiftly approved. However, Robespierre privately expressed his concerns to Danton, saying, "Cambon's idea sounds beautiful, but I worry that it might go awry in practice. We lack the means to ensure this law is enforced as intended. I fear this seemingly beautiful law could become a nightmare in execution. Furthermore, even in France, not many people are willing to accept assignats."

"The road to hell is often paved with good intentions," Danton replied. "But for now, we have no choice."

To effectively implement this law, the Convention sent thirty envoys to Belgium. Cambon, who had proposed the plan, was among them.

However, as Robespierre had feared, policies often transformed significantly when executed. Many times, when policies were translated into action, they took on a different form. These envoys wielded considerable authority and could make unilateral decisions on most matters, exceeding the power of previous intendants. But not every envoy was as incorruptible as Robespierre feared. In fact, the vast majority of these envoys were exploiting the situation for personal gain.

In just a few months, Cambon's envoys alone raised as much as sixty-four million livres for the Republic in the Belgian regions. However, the entire of Belgium, including those living in "cottages" whom the French sought to win over, harbored deep resentment towards the French.