Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Great Revolution
"I fear a revolt caused by lack of bread more than a major battle"
-Napoleon
The Bastille's Fall: July 14, 1789
Seventeen year old Andre Renes did not know why he wanted to become a soldier. A man from a poor family in Provence, he knew that soldiering was the low profession of society. Well off families would sooner see their son "Dead" than "gone for a soldier." Yet La Debine (poverty) was enough to drive many into the arms of the army.
In the Renes family, Andre had only one brother. A tall handsome man named Jean, who joined the army as a private, and now he was a Caporal. He would fill andre, the young seventeen year old brother, with stories of war in Corsica, india and Italy. But despite all these adventures, Jean always reminded Andre never to become a soldier, for it was filled with misery, death and hunger. But Andre was never a good listener, he would always gaze into the warm mediteranean sea, wondering what adventures he could go on as a soldier. When Jean left Provence to fight the italian war with Savoy, Andre would practice musketry with sticks and clubs, unbeknownst to his brother.
But that was not why Andrew Renes came to Paris. He came to paris seeking food and work. For the family home in provence was starving. Indeed, all of France was starving. The king's incompetent policies have driven a stake into the lives of many frenchmen. A french peasant was lucky to get any meat at all, while others ate rotten vegetables off the ground, since they couldn't afford anything. Inflation was sky high in france (60% !!! stupid AI) and the royal family spent all their money on foolishness. The king, Louis XVI, was a fat lazy man, who constantly belched. His favourite pasttime was hunting, and grabbing pebbles with his toes, flicking them at anyone who came within range. The queen too, was Marie-Antoinette, also known as the "austrian witch." In one month alone she bought out every single diamond dealer in paris, along with several hundred riding dresses. ordinary frenchmen had no privileges like the few thousand men who ruled over a country of twenty five million. Taxes were made, wars declared without their consent, while anyone who displeased the king was imprisioned by his lettre de cachet. A letter which allowed the king to imprision anyone as long as he wanted, where ever he wanted.
Since the countryside was scarce in food, Andre wandered down the streets of paris, hoping that at least the city itself would be bountiful in food. He was wrong.
Everywhere, there were beggars; the unemployed and diseased walk through the streets, as if all of the world's vermin gathered in Paris. The city itself was like a city from the middle ages, there was no sanitation, no sewage, and the buildings decayed from the passage of time. Men were miserable, hungry and angry, and it was not long before Andre noticed that something big was happening.
It began with a few shouts, and men ran past Andre, holding muskets. Burly men in blue uniform, shouting "long live france! Death to the king!". Soon more onlookers followed the soldiers and eventually a mob gathered in front of Andre and he saw in front of him a truly impressive site.
Dominating paris was the Bastille, a grim fortress which served as a state prison, was located at the east end of the city of Paris (Gershoy 17). The Bastille was despised as a symbol of despotism, and also because of the many stories that circulated about its use for torture and other cruelties. The walls were ten feet thick, and the towers were over ninety feet high. It was a symbol of Royal oppression and now, it was burning. Stacks of smoke filtered out of the man windows of the bastile, and a large crowd was gathering below it, storming it! Andre could see through the smoke that fighting was going on.
Gathering his courage, the young blond man ran towards the violence, and soon, a huge explosion erupted in the crowd, and a splurt of blood appeared in the air. Somone had fired a cannon.
The explosion did nothing but aggravate the crowd even more, and now they attacked the helpless loyalist soldiers. Men attacked with clubs, pitchforks, muskets. While women used rolling pins and kitchen utensils. The soldiers fired a ragged volley, then ran for their lives as the huge mob broke ranks and chased the bewildered soldiers into the bastille.
The Commander of the bastille, Marquis de Launay, would not surrender however, and he planned to blow up the bastille in determined resistance. The blue coated men however, were aware of this and soon, the fleur de lis came down from the fortress, with a white flag in its place.
Andre watched with amazement as the men outside started to cheer. "Vive La France! Vive La Patrie!". The young Frenchman barely had time to notice that a new trophy was being displayed by the victorious citizens. The unfortunate Marquis De Launay had his throat cut on the steps of the Hotel de Ville and his head was carried around the streets of Paris.
Andre, caught up in the moment, suddenly realized why he came to paris for, the young man immediately went to the nearest blacksmith shop, looking for work. He jogged down the street, gleeming with joy as he shouted. "The bastille has fallen! The Bastille has fallen!"
It had begun.
***
Two weeks later..... In Vendee
A regiment of French soldiers had recently arrived in the town, the king was aware of the anti-royalist feelings among the Vendee peasants. And seeking a remedy, a contingent of troops and artillery was assigned to keep the peace. The cities of vendee were unusually calm this time of year, a surprise indeed, given the news of the fall of the bastille.
Louis XVI attempted to calm the mood of the people, by giving in to some concessions, but the people's lust for freedom was insatiable, and sure enough, the whole round was starting again. Unrest came all over france, the previous winter had deprived much of France of food, while the prices skyrocketed along with inflation.
The two french officers watched nervously as a crowd gathered in the town square, outside their tavern, which was where the current officers were biovaucked.
"I am not so sure about this assignment sir." A corporal said nervously, his hand shaking on the table as more and more passerbyers noticed the men in uniform. A crowd was forming outside.
"As far as i'm concerned, they can choke on their anger, taking it out on us won't do anything to change the situation." The Captain drank his cup of beer.
"How about you sir?" The corporal peered into the corner, where a second lieutenant was reading a book.
The man did not reply, he calmy flipped the page over, engrossed in the articles he read.
"He is known as the devourer of books back in the old academy at Brienne." Captain Eugene laughed as he watched the second lieutenant stop reading his book.
"I'm glad you are taking the time to talk to us lieutenant." Eugene smiled.
"I was just catching up on my reading sir." The man was not a very impressive figure, yet his gray eyes revealed some things that neither of the men could see in him, a talent and curious nature hidden within.
"A famous book by Father J. J. M. Amiot," The man went on. "I find it quite the rividing read, I may write to the minister of war to request that he publish this to our generals."
Both officers laughed. "Surely you do not jest monsieur? Who would take the time to read such a long book."
The man shrugged. Then sat down to enjoy the beer.
"How long do you think we will stay in this hell hole?" The Corporal drank another sip of beer, only to have Captain Eugene reprimand him.
"As long as we have to corporal, since when did corporals questioned orders?"
"never sir." The man sipped.
Eugene then turned back to the young lieutenant. "I hear that you are new in these parts. Perhaps you can profit from his example and learn when to shut up." The captain was not too optimistic about having more new people with his company. Yet the man didn't complain nor say a word.
Suddenly the mob outside began throwing rocks through the window, torches and pitchforks were in the air as shouting emerged from the crowd. "Death to the traitors! Long Live france!"
"Dammit!" Eugene swore as a musket narrowly missed him, making this more deadly than just a mere protest. The crowd, fired up by the boldness of the shooter, decided to take an extra step, they crashed through the windows and doors and ran towards the three men.
"Out the back! Organize the troop!" Eugene yelled as they flipped a table, a knife was thrown at the officers, and it stuck to the table top.
The three men managed to pull themselves out of the bar, where, to the relief of the captain, a three hundred man force was waiting there for orders.
The streets were in chaos, wagons were overturned, while small fires were lit throughout the area. Soldiers lay on the ground, dead and wounded.
"Form line! Form line!" THe captain yelled, running in the rear, the second lieutenant watched as the mob turned to face the company of troop, having destroyed the bar and catching the officers in the upper floors.
It was a hostage situation now, both sides square off in the plaza grounds, while officers, dragged out of their beds, were displayed in front of the crowd. Daring the men to shoot them. Insults and curses were yelled at the troops, who stood still,
even when rotten vegetables were thrown at them.
"Damn. We may have to fire." The Captain spat, as the crowd got closer.
Then the second lieutenant calmly walked in between the two groups. The mob stopped, and the soldiers lowered their muskets. The lieutenant held out his hands, signifying that he was unarmed. Many soldiers thought he would plead the crowd to remember their loyalty to the king, but they had little confidence in that. They quickly fixed bayonets.
"Citizens of Vendee! We have come here to shoot the Riffraff who have caused this cowardly and fiendish disturbance."
The crowd stopped cold, some men nudged. The man's voice projected throughout the street.
"However, before we begin, i do not want the respectable citizens of the town to be in the crossfire. So i ask that the respectable citizens return to their homes so that we may commence shooting the riff raff."
The mob nudged more, and an eery silence ensued. The soldiers were quiet, nervous at the fight that was about to break out, while the mob stared at the lieutenant, who was clearly calm and not even flinching.
Then slowly, by ones, twos and fours, the crowd dispersed. Men returning to their homes because none of them thought themselves as riff raff!
"Well what are you waiting for? Help them!" The lieutenant yelled, gesturing at the officers on the ground who were gagged and tied up, much to their indignity.
"I don't know how you did it Lieutenant, but i will make you a captain for this act!" The colonel thanked him graciously for saving his life.
Captain Napoleon Bonaparte smiled, and waved his cocked hat off to the dispersing citizens of Vendee.
Reason had won, for now.........