Rumors and the National Guard (3)

Joseph stood before his window, gazing into the distance at the plumes of smoke rising into the sky.

"It looks like something is burning," Lucien said, standing nearby.

"It's Les Invalides," Joseph replied. "They say there are plenty of weapons there—the revolution has already begun."

"Shouldn't we do something?" Lucien asked. Joseph turned back, and in Lucien's eyes, he could see a restless, eager hunger.

"No, we don't need to do anything right now," Joseph shook his head. "Lucien, you must remember: the first to enter the stage is not necessarily the protagonist. The protagonist only appears at the most opportune moment. It is too chaotic right now; it is not our time to step onto the stage."

The situation was indeed chaotic. Almost all of Paris seemed to be burning. Rumors of a new St. Bartholomew's Day massacre spread like wildfire, and nearly everyone was busy searching for weapons to defend themselves. Fortunately, Joseph lived within the military academy, so he was safe for the time being.

Even the military academy, however, had prepared for the chaos. Instructors had been granted permission to carry their firearms with them and, after paying a certain deposit, to take them home to protect their families. Joseph, for instance, now had four rifles and two pistols stashed in his rented house.

Joseph told his two younger brothers to stop going to school for the time being and to stay by his side every day, as Paris had become far too dangerous. The streets were filled with fanatical and unruly crowds; while some were truly filled with revolutionary fervor, others were merely taking advantage of the situation to loot. Meanwhile, the Parisian police system had completely paralyzed over the past two days, as officers were too terrified for their own safety to even step outside. One had to realize that in these last two days, quite a few "tyrant's spies" had already been strung up from lampposts.

These policemen were usually detestable, but with their total absence, Paris had descended into complete anarchy, and social order had collapsed along with them. Walking down the street now, it was entirely possible to be robbed or even killed at any moment.

Barricades had already been erected in the district where Joseph lived. It was said these were to counter the King's mercenaries who might come to massacre and plunder the people of Paris, but in reality, their greater purpose was to protect the neighborhood amidst such anarchic chaos.

At the barricade at the end of the street, a dozen young men in blue uniforms stood guard with rifles. A bit in front of them, they had placed makeshift caltrops; no one except residents of the district was allowed to enter.

Because they had acted quickly, the district remained relatively safe for the time being.

"Stay inside, and don't open the door for anyone who knocks," Joseph said to his two brothers as he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.

"Understood. Don't worry, Big Brother, we aren't little rabbits anymore; we won't let any big bad wolves in," Lucien said nonchalantly.

"Good. Lucien, you know how to use the firearms; I took you to practice a while back. Keep the guns ready and protect your brother. But be careful—do not have an accidental discharge. I am going to attend a meeting now and will be out for an hour or two. Protect yourself, and protect your brother."

Joseph picked up his coat from the rack, draped it over his shoulders, and donned a hat adorned with a blue-and-red cockade. He then tucked two pistols into the holsters hidden beneath his ribs.

"I don't need Lucien to protect me; I can shoot too," Louis spoke up. "I'm no worse at shooting than Lucien."

"You are still too young. Just listen to Lucien and don't cause trouble," Joseph said sternly.

"Yes, if anything happens, I will protect you. You just stay behind me and help me load the bullets," Lucien said, clearly excited to have Joseph's support.

"Alright, I'm leaving. Stay inside and don't act foolishly. If I'm back late, the bread is in the cupboard. Sophie isn't here these days, so you'll have to cut the bread yourselves."

Having finished dressing and picking up his walking stick, Joseph gave his brothers a few final instructions before heading out.

He walked along the empty streets for a stretch until he reached the location of the meeting—the home of the banker Charles.

Joseph stepped forward, showed his invitation to the doorman, and entered. A servant led him through a Rococo-style vestibule to the entrance of a grand hall.

Joseph handed his walking stick to the servant and walked inside.

There were already quite a few people in the hall. Joseph recognized most of them; they were among the wealthiest individuals in the district.

"Quiet, everyone!" The banker Charles pulled a gold watch attached to a long gold chain from his pocket, checked the time, and shouted, "The time is nearly up, and most of our people have arrived, so let's not waste time and get started!"

The crowd quieted down.

"As you all know, quite a few things have happened these past few days," Charles said. "Mr. Necker has been dismissed, which may signify a change in the King's attitude, and this has brought a great deal of uncertainty to the financial markets. Therefore, we have temporarily closed the stock exchange. As you know, Mr. Necker's sudden departure has created too much instability. At the same time, we have sent a representative to Versailles to understand the situation."

"And?" someone asked anxiously.

Most of the people here were wealthy, and many were creditors to the French government—or more accurately, to the French royal family. For years, a large portion of the French government's various expenses had been supported by loans. Now, everyone was worried that His Majesty the King might default on his debts or forcibly lower the interest rates on government bonds.

"Mr. Necker's dismissal has been confirmed. Although the King's side claims there will be no default or forced reduction of interest rates, this statement did not come directly from the King, so its credibility is questionable. Furthermore, it has been discovered that there are indeed military movements near Paris."

As soon as these words were spoken, an uproar broke out in the room.

Charles seemed quite satisfied with their reaction. He watched them quietly for a moment before saying, "Everyone, be quiet. Do not panic. We have sought verification from the Marquis de Lafayette, and he has revealed that the King has indeed brought in a regiment composed of mountaineers, but this is only to strengthen the protection of Versailles. This regiment is limited in number and lacks heavy weapons; they cannot threaten Paris."

"But there are already over twenty regiments near Paris," someone shouted.

"The Marquis de Lafayette guarantees that the French army will never take action against Paris," Charles replied.

"Then will they oppose those mercenaries?" another person asked.

"Certainly not," someone in the crowd answered. "Just early yesterday morning, the French Guards retreated to the Champ de Mars. That is to say, no matter what happens in Paris, they will not intervene."

"Correct," Charles said. "Considering the real danger—and I don't just mean the mercenaries, but also the looters taking advantage of the chaos—you should know that in these past two days, many legitimate merchants have been plundered or even killed by these thugs. In the Saint-Antoine District, there is almost a grain merchant hanging from every lamppost. If these thugs were to enter our district, it would be a nightmare."

"We have already built barricades and organized a guard. Are we really going to be stopped by those thugs?" someone said dismissively.

"If we were only dealing with scattered thugs, our current defensive measures would be quite sufficient," Charles said. "But we must also consider the possibility of mercenaries. Furthermore, those thugs could gather in large groups. Therefore... we cannot rely solely on individual districts to fight against the thugs of all Paris. Gentlemen, why is an army always able to easily defeat a mob of thugs several times its size? It is because an army is organized. We must organize our strength into a real army. Only then can we protect our own interests in this era of shifting winds."

"But where will we find military talent?" someone asked.

"The Marquis de Lafayette has indicated that he has some experience in organizing militias from his time in North America. He can provide us with some assistance," Charles said.

Joseph smiled slightly upon hearing this. Lafayette's intentions were quite obvious; while he did indeed possess significant influence within the French army, the number of troops he could truly command was limited. If a militia were organized in Paris, given the city's scale, at least forty or fifty thousand men could be raised. If he could keep such a force under his control, or at least make people believe it was under his control, it would inevitably bring him greater political benefits.

"That's good then; with the Marquis de Lafayette, we can rest easy," someone said from the floor.

"The Marquis de Lafayette also believes that we should unite with the gentlemen of other respectable districts to form a unified National Guard. By concentrating the strength of all the respectable people in Paris, we can better handle various dangers and protect ourselves," Charles continued. "According to the Marquis's suggestion, our district's self-defense force can be organized into a company. As the largest contributor, I am willing to take on the responsibility of serving as the captain of this company. Who among you agrees, and who opposes?"

Everyone remained silent.

Charles looked at everyone with satisfaction and was about to continue when someone suddenly spoke up: "Charles, may I ask you a question?"

Charles looked over and saw an old man named Orlando. Charles knew that although this man only ran a tavern, he had the backing of the Orleans faction. So, even though he frowned slightly, he asked quite amiably, "Mr. Orlando, do you have any questions?"

"Gentlemen, I admire Charles's character and his dedication to serving the district. I just want to know: Charles, do you have any military service experience? If we were commanding a troop of gold louis, none of us could compare to you, but commanding in battle..."

"Then, Mr. Orlando, do you have a suitable candidate?" Charles retorted.

"I do not," Orlando said quite candidly. "And I am not opposed to you being the captain, Charles. I just intend to recommend an advisor to you."

With that, Orlando turned to the crowd and said to Joseph, "Mr. Bonaparte, please come over. Mr. Bonaparte, I believe you all recognize him. He is an instructor at the military academy and a serving officer. He has more experience in how to conduct combat than any of us. The barricades we built were designed by him. It is just that Mr. Bonaparte is a serving officer and cannot hold an official position in the militia. However, I feel that as a member of our district, he should also make whatever contribution he can. Therefore, I would like to invite him to become the military advisor for our district's National Guard company. What do you all think?"