He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 70

(69) Napoleon Saves Burning Paris

Fires already raged throughout Paris.

-Whoosh!

Citizens screamed as they fled their homes, pouring into the streets.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

“Kill the enemy! Fight! Defeat them!”

“It’s a revolution!”

Armed citizens ran through the flames, shouting slogans.

However, one man remained in his burning house, clutching a pistol.

The man resided in a luxurious mansion in Paris. He was Alexandre de Beauharnais, a revolutionary army general from a noble family, and a quasi-powerful figure who had even served as the speaker of the National Assembly.

Just two days ago, he was simply a man scorned by his ex-wife.

“What on earth is happening! Suddenly, flames and rampaging citizens!”

His adjutant, Lieutenant Colonel Nicolas Davout of the gendarmerie, stroked his thinning hair and clicked his tongue.

“Doesn’t it feel like the day of the revolution, General Beauharnais?”

“Is this the time for such idle talk? First, we must escape Paris! Davout, find an escape route immediately!”

“Excuse me? Are you saying we should leave Paris in this situation?”

Davout widened his eyes in surprise, and Alexandre scoffed.

“Isn’t it obvious? Unless you want to stay here and die alone!”

A general never moves alone.

Adjutants, guards, and servants always accompany him.

Although he had come at the behest of his ex-wife, that was the reason why Alexandre had brought his adjutant Davout.

But now, Alexandre’s keen survival instincts drove him to flee alone.

Davout, flustered, tried to follow but tripped and fell, unnoticed.

He had to escape from here.

It was definitely a riot.

And since the revolution, these so-called riots had a common characteristic: enraged citizens attacked the privileged class.

Alexandre was acutely aware that he was in exactly that situation.

Then, what would happen to the security of Paris?

“Hmph, that Bonaparte or Buonaparte guy will take care of it! Huh?”

Suddenly, soldiers blocked Alexandre’s path at the mansion’s front gate.

“You can’t go anywhere, General Beauharnais.”

Black uniforms – the uniform of the Paris Security Command’s Postal Special Forces.

The latest creation of fashion designer Rose Bertin, but that was of no concern to Alexandre.

Then, Alexandre recognized a familiar face and snapped.

It was Marceau, the commander of the soldiers.

“Lieutenant Colonel Marceau, wasn’t it? Aren’t you my son’s subordinate?”

“Strictly speaking, I am General Bonaparte’s adjutant. Of course, your son is a superior I respect.”

“Then, is it okay to detain me, the father of your respected superior, like this?”

Marceau smirked and pointed outside the main gate.

“General, we are trying to protect you from the rioters. Would you like to see?”

Outside the gate, a battle was already underway.

Citizens with torches and bayonets shouted and set fires.

Amidst them, security force soldiers in blue uniforms stood in formation and fired.

-Bang! Bang! Bang!

The volley of fire from the three ranks sent the citizens scurrying for cover in the alleys.

“It’s the army! The security forces have appeared!”

“What’s going on? There was no one here, but they’re appearing on every street!”

“Damn it! Shoot them! Where’s the gunpowder, the gunpowder!”

It was a sudden uprising.

No matter how much they had prepared, they didn’t have gunpowder and ammunition like the regular army.

Moreover, Napoleon’s Paris security forces were fully stocked with paper cartridges supplied from the Vendée [a region in western France known for its counter-revolutionary uprisings] prison.

Marceau watched the soldiers tear open the paper and quickly reload, and then spoke.

“As you can see, the streets are already a battlefield. If you had gone out there, you would have died.”

Alexandre narrowed his eyes, considering the situation.

In fact, Alexandre thought the opposite.

A riot had already broken out, the government had lost control, and the situation was spiraling out of control.

So, he wanted to escape to the Northern Army, where the most reliable troops were.

But unexpectedly, the security forces seemed to be taking control of the situation.

No matter how much of a hero Napoleon was in Vendée and Toulon, it would have been impossible if he hadn’t been prepared.

Could it be that he knew about this uprising in advance?

Alexandre’s gaze turned to Marceau.

“Am I the only one being detained like this?”

“It’s protection. The security forces have been dispatched to protect all the key figures. Colonel Eugene specifically sent me for you.”

“Hmph, at least he still thinks of me as his father.”

Alexandre tapped his head lightly and his eyes gleamed.

“Then, I can’t stay still!”

“Yes?”

“Isn’t this a period of upheaval in Paris? In times like these, you have to go to the National Convention, even if it means dying! No, of course, I’ll survive!”

In an instant, neither Marceau nor Davout, who had caught up from behind, could stop him.

Alexandre dashed outside.

He ran towards the Tuileries Palace, the current meeting place of the National Convention.

“Now, whoever seizes the National Convention becomes the ruler!”

A man who only cherishes his life would never have thrown himself into the revolution in the first place.

He would have fled to England, the Netherlands, or Naples long ago.

This moment was truly a period of change, a time of upheaval in power.

Alexandre decided that he couldn’t just stay at home at this critical juncture.

The center of power.

He had to run to the National Convention.

That thought wasn’t entirely wrong.

The problem was that he forgot that bullets have no eyes.

-Bang!

A stray bullet fired by a militiaman tore through Alexandre’s leg.

“Ugh!”

Militiamen running through the alley surrounded Alexandre as he rolled on the ground.

Alexandre’s eyes widened.

Just as he was about to quickly make excuses, one of the militiamen shouted.

“It’s a soldier!”

The fact that he was wearing a military uniform was a bigger problem.

In the eyes of the militiamen, anyone wearing a military uniform would look like an enemy.

Alexandre frantically waved his hands and shouted.

“W-wait! I’m a republican sans-culottes [common people of the lower classes in late 18th century France, often revolutionary] soldier, urgh!”

At that moment, the militiamen’s bayonets pierced Alexandre.

-Thwack!

At the age of 34.

The second son of the Marquis de Beauharnais, a participant in the American Revolutionary War and the French Revolutionary Wars.

He had seen the Atlantic Ocean and the New World of America from Martinique, and he was a man who always dreamed bigger than his abilities.

Eugene de Beauharnais’ father, Alexandre, had passed away.

It was truly a historic day, and a ridiculous death.

***

On the night the general who could have lived died, another member survived.

“Monsieur Desmoulins, are you alright?”

Camille Desmoulins sat blankly, looking above his head.

Just a moment ago, he had been captured by menacing militiamen.

But suddenly, security forces in blue uniforms appeared and rescued Desmoulins.

Next to him, the gourmet Cambacérès was trembling and sitting down.

Desmoulins stammered and grabbed a soldier.

“S-s-save me.”

“Don’t worry, Deputy Desmoulins. We have already repelled the armed rioters. However, the main force remains.”

“Huh? C-c-commander of the security forces? General Bonaparte?”

Only then did Desmoulins realize who the man in front of him was and shouted.

“What happened to Robespierre!”

Originally, Desmoulins was an alumnus of the Louis-le-Grand school, a secondary school, with Robespierre.

Since childhood, he had regarded the Roman Republic as an ideal, and he respected his friend Robespierre, who realized that ideal.

Although he criticized overly radical decisions, he believed that he was an ideal for protecting the republic.

So, he was looking for his leader Robespierre first.

However, Desmoulins would never know that in the original history, his friend Robespierre would have killed Desmoulins in April of this year.

The only one who knew that fact in this place, Eugene, stood guard with a pistol and replied.

“His life is unknown. However, it is clear that he was attacked by rioters.”

“Good heavens!”

“Deputy, pull yourself together!”

Eugene urged Desmoulins in the burning streets of the night.

“Where is the figure who led the revolution? Are you going to hand over the revolutionary government to the rioters now!”

Originally, it was Desmoulins who told the citizens to take up arms on the day of the storming of the Bastille.

However, those weapons were to be directed at the corrupt, degenerate, and bankrupt monarchy.

Robespierre’s government, although there were many executions and massacres of rebels, was not an unjust government.

That government had collapsed.

In fact, it was thanks to the fact that the Reign of Terror had not fully begun.

Desmoulins gritted his teeth and stood up.

“Yes, our young standard-bearer is right. We must protect the revolution.”

Then, a familiar plump face appeared among the soldiers.

“That’s right, Deputy Desmoulins.”

“Danton? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’ve been under the protection of our General Bonaparte since the beginning of the uprising. Heh heh!”

Danton stuck out his fleshy neck and boasted.

“I can’t possibly give my neck to the rioters. Anyway, it’s very expensive!”

This was originally what Danton would have said when his neck was cut off because of Robespierre.

But Robespierre died first, and Danton was alive and standing on his own two feet.

Eugene, who was watching the irony of history from the side, smiled bitterly.

Desmoulins nodded and replied.

“Even in this situation, you’re joking. You’re really amazing, Danton.”

“Oh, you’re not stuttering either?”

“I don’t think there’s time for that now.”

The stuttering member Desmoulins looked at Napoleon without stuttering once.

“It seems that the only person who can restore order is the general. I beg you.”

The troops gathered in this place now numbered 3,000.

It was not a division-level force of 10,000, but a brigade-level force.

It seemed woefully inadequate to restore the security of Paris, but the security forces were the only place Desmoulins could turn to.

But Napoleon stared at Desmoulins without the slightest hesitation and asked.

“Can I take that as an official resolution of the Committee of Public Safety?”

Just as Desmoulins was blinking, a slender man standing next to Napoleon like a secretary said.

“Our general has not been ordered to deploy troops and [suppress the rebellion]. That’s the problem.”

Desmoulins’ eyes widened.

“Member Saliceti? You were here too. But what do you mean by that?”

“As you know, the chairman is vacant. In this case, the authority is transferred to the vice-chairman. And the vice-chairman is you, Deputy Desmoulins.”

“That’s just a temporary position.”

Clearly, Desmoulins was the vice-chairman in this session.

But it was almost time for Saint-Just or Couthon to take over.

It was literally a position he held formally for only about a month.

But as the situation changed rapidly, the most senior member of the Committee of Public Safety became Desmoulins.

This was the reason why Eugene, Napoleon, and Saliceti came to save Desmoulins first.

Napoleon stared at Desmoulins with an extremely intense gaze.

“I want a resolution that it is okay to kill the rioters, Deputy Desmoulins.”

Rioters, murder, suppression.

Once, they were at the forefront of the revolution, armed citizen soldiers.

But now they were trying to overthrow the National Convention members and the government, who had been legitimately elected.

If Marat was really behind it, he was a traitor.

Desmoulins was an advocate for legitimate demonstrations, but he could not condone this situation.

Desmoulins finally made a decision.

“Alright. As Vice-Chairman of the Committee of Public Safety, I will take responsibility and issue an official resolution. How are you going to deal with it?”

Only then did Napoleon smile coldly and answer.

“I will use cannons, Deputy Desmoulins.”

A weapon that can only be used in Paris with the decision of the highest authority.

Even on the day of the Bastille, even the king did not order it.

The shelling of the citizen soldiers was decided.

***

At the head, Hébert shouted, holding a musket.

“Let’s go! Let’s take the National Convention into our hands!”

20,000 armed citizen soldiers who had gathered in Revolution Square rushed forward all at once.

The center of power in Paris, where the Tuileries Palace was located.

A place where the king was once dragged from Versailles and stayed.

Now, it was where the members of the National Convention gathered.

Then, Jacques Roux shouted next to Hébert.

“Wait, there are troops in front of us!”

“What? Didn’t the security forces run away?”

“Come to think of it, follow-up units are coming from each commune! According to the plan, they should all gather here first!”

Marat, who was in the center of the formation, narrowed his brow.

In front of the Tuileries Palace, security force soldiers in blue uniforms were lined up, aiming their guns.

Among them, there was a man who stood out because he was wearing a black uniform.

It was Napoleon, the commander of the Paris security forces.

Marat looked at Napoleon and twisted his pockmarked lips.

“I see, that’s Bonaparte.”

Something was strange.

The security forces, who should have been protecting Paris, were nowhere to be seen.

In fact, they had deployed troops to every key point in the alley and ambushed the sans-culottes citizen soldiers who were trying to join them from each commune [administrative division].

That was why the follow-up units were not joining them.

But if the situation had come this far, even Marat, who had been running forward, could tell.

The information had been leaked in advance.

Perhaps it was the incident yesterday when Danton met Napoleon.

But it was amazing that he had made so much preparation in just one day.

Then, Hébert stood next to Marat and smiled.

“Hmph, they say he’s the sword Robespierre picked. But he didn’t protect Robespierre.”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that we don’t have a military commander. I’m suddenly feeling even more sorry for Rossignol. Hébert, do you have any military experience?”

“Ha! It looks like we have 10 times more people. It doesn’t look like there are even 3,000 on the other side? Besides, aren’t we all veterans of the Bastille?”

Hébert raised his musket with a bayonet attached and shouted.

“The key to fighting is spirit. Let’s charge!”

The distance was just barely out of reach of musket bullets.

The sun had not yet risen, and there were more torches on this side.

The other side had to face 20,000 people in the dark, tense.

Even if they lacked shooting skills, the citizen soldiers had a lot of experience in bayonet fighting.

Because they had fought several times with the king’s regular army during the Great Revolution.

Marat finally made a decision.

“Yes, citizens! Let’s defeat the soldiers of the new aristocratic group who are oppressing us!”

20,000 citizen soldiers began to charge all at once.

-Waaaaa!

No matter how short they were on gunpowder and bullets, 20,000 people charging with bayonets was terrifying.

“Everything has proceeded according to the tactical plan so far.”

However, Napoleon said coldly as he watched the scene.

His adjutants, including Eugene, were looking at Napoleon with respectful faces.

Military deployment, marching movement, ambush operation.

He had created the operation in just one day, checking everything in units of time.

The highlight of it all was something that even the adjutants didn’t know.

He had deliberately delayed the dispatch until the moment the chairman of the Committee of Public Safety, Robespierre, died.

Only Eugene and Napoleon, and Ippolito, who had gone to deliver the message to Auguste, knew about it.

It was a subtle timing, as the rebellion would be unstoppable if it was just a little late, and Robespierre would live if it was just a little early.

Marceau, the commander of the Postal Special Forces, had mastered the map and roads of the entire city of Paris to create this situation.

Eugene and Saliceti had secured key figures and obtained the consent of Desmoulins in particular.

However, all of that was carried out according to Napoleon’s operational plan.

Now, the moment of the final blow had come.

When Napoleon gestured, Lieutenant Colonel Duroc, the adjutant, ordered the soldiers.

“Load.”

Then, Adjutant Marmont asked Napoleon next to him.

“They are citizens. Is it really okay?”

“Marmont, you’re mistaken.”

“Yes?”

Napoleon looked coldly at the charging armed citizen soldiers, the sans-culottes, and replied.

“Citizens are respected when they follow the law and order. If they respond to a legitimate government with violence, they are just rioters. Especially.”

In an instant, Napoleon’s eyes flashed.

“If the people’s elected leader, Robespierre, died at their hands, they are just murderers.”

Of course, if Napoleon had been dispatched a little earlier, Robespierre might have lived.

But Robespierre eventually died.

So, the justification lies with the security forces, not the citizen army.

At that moment, the fuse of the [battery – a group of cannons] that had been loaded according to Duroc’s order began to burn.

-Tssss!

That’s right.

Napoleon didn’t order them to load bullets.

He ordered them to load cannons.

Napoleon watched the cannon with the fuse deliberately shortened to burn quickly and ordered.

“Fire!”

Instantly, the cannon fired a cannonball.

-Kududududuk!

Not just one cannonball, but a volley of shots.

A cannonball that was called a grape shot because it looked like grapes [a cluster of small iron balls packed together].

It was the cannonball that Eugene had fired at the pirates when he went to the New World.

The grape shot covered the sans-culottes armed citizens.

“Aaaaaaack!”

“G-g-grape shot!”

“Good heavens, cannons! I-in Paris!”

The iron tore through people, the momentum of the charge was shattered, and the formation was broken in an instant.

The sans-culottes tried to muster their courage and charge again, but the cannonballs were merciless.

Grape shot poured down one after another.

Marat screamed, scattering blood.

“Napoleon!”

But Napoleon watched the scene and shouted firmly.

“Now, the era of armed uprisings is over, and the era of the rule of law will come!”

The dawn of September 14, 1794.

The last revolution was suppressed.

It was the moment Napoleon saved Paris.