At this time, the National Assembly was adjourning at noon, and the members who had been doing oral gymnastics all day were discussing the debate just now in groups in the venue.
At this time, a gentleman quickly came to Talleyrand and whispered something to him.
Fouche, who was beside Talleyrand, immediately raised his eyebrows sharply and looked here with concern.
Talleyrand noticed Fouche's gaze, and before asking questions, he lowered his voice and said: "Just now, it was like this, Frost..."
He told everything about the news he had just received.
Fouché was speechless: "Should we directly send a public official to the guillotine? When we send him to the guillotine, at least the entire parliament must act as a jury to vote."
Talleyrand: "Why do you pay so much attention to these unimportant things? The important thing is that he clearly ordered the troops not to follow the resolutions of the Parliament. Although it is only a small issue with the title of division general, but..."
Talleyrand did not continue speaking. He looked at the three giants Robespierre, Marat and Dandong who were discussing with each other on the podium, with very complicated expressions.
But Fouche pointed it out directly: "I'm afraid that a de facto military dictatorship has been formed. The three giants here together are not as powerful as the words of the leader outside."
Fouche had already pointed it out, and Talleyrand stopped covering up and took over the conversation: "Now you are only one battle away from becoming the Protector of France. As long as you can repel the coalition forces, there is no need for a big victory, just a tragic victory...
...No, as long as there is a draw, you will be our Caesar."
Talleyrand had already used honorifics to refer to General Frost throughout.
Fouche nodded: "Yes, your Excellency has gone from being a cobbler to becoming the most powerful person in France. His journey is legendary."
As Fouche said this, he was thinking about whether to go to Frost's hometown first and take care of the general—no, support your family well.
Talleyrand, on the other hand, was obviously thinking about something else.
At this time, Robespierre ended his conversation with the other two giants and began to tap the podium with a small hammer to inform the MPs that it was time for another meeting.
As the MPs came back one after another and took their seats.
After everyone was almost seated, Robespierre was about to continue the topic. At this time, Talleyrand suddenly stood up: "Your Excellency, Speaker, I want to speak!"
The corner of Robespierre's mouth twitched. The Incorruptible was naturally at odds with the chameleon Talleyrand, but Talleyrand funded the activities of the Jacobins in Paris to a certain extent, so Robespierre squeezed
He smiled and said, "Please, Mr. Bishop."
Talleyrand came to the podium, cleared his throat, and then said sternly: "Yesterday, we passed a bill to change the military ranks of the previous army to revolutionary and republican ranks! But obviously, we ignored one thing.
One thing is that military rank plays a role in distinguishing superiors from subordinates in the army. It plays a vital role in stabilizing the chain of command!
"Of course, our starting point is good, to cancel the difference in titles to highlight the spirit of equality! But this will cause big problems on the battlefield!
"So, I suggest that we review this resolution now and come up with more detailed names that can distinguish the positions in the chain of command!
"Your Excellency Frost was busy with military affairs and did not protest to us, but he has pointed out our mistakes with de facto actions!"
Talleyrand talked eloquently and seemed to have become General Frost's confidant in Parliament.
Fouche sat below and nodded repeatedly: "It is you Talleyrand who is more ruthless!"
**
Moreau went to the Paris Security Headquarters again and received the brigade flag of the 67th Battle Infantry Brigade.
He looked at the ordinary flag with sixty-seven written in Arabic numerals in his hand, and then looked up at the several military flags flying on the gate of the Palace of Versailles.
They were the flag of the 1st Instruction Brigade serving as the general's direct guard, the regimental flag of the Ceremonial Knights, the regimental flag of the Afterglow Knights, and the company flag of the 1st Precision Marksman Company.
Each of these flags has complex patterns and looks graceful. You can tell at a glance that this army has a glorious history.
Morrow looked down at the flag in his hand again, and printed sixty-seven on the blue, white and red colors of the Republic, which was extremely perfunctory.
Moreau couldn't help puckering his lips. Although he still couldn't accept the fact that he had become the commander of a brigade, seeing this simple brigade flag, he couldn't help but want to use his actions to add more color to the flag.
some content.
Moreau sighed and looked up, just in time to see another officer looking at the simple brigade flag in his hand with a grimace.
The officer's brigade flag says sixty-six.
Morrow remembered the general's words: "Don't refuse, the commander of the 66th Brigade is still a writer!"
Moreau observed the "writer" carefully, and he didn't think he looked like him at all: because he was too dark.
At this time, France did not have the influence that later generations would have in West Africa, especially on the Mediterranean coast. The Ottomans were still there at this time.
But the French are no strangers to black people, because the French also opened many plantations in the New World, and they also participated in the triangular trade.
A very important purpose of the French Revolution was the liberation of people of color, but it has never become a trend.
At this time, Moreau couldn't believe it anyway when he pointed at a black man and said, "This is a writer."
He stepped forward curiously: "Excuse me, are you... a writer?"
The black man was shocked and raised his head. Only then did Moreau realize that this man was not as dark as he originally thought. Judging from his skin color, he should be the illegitimate child of a French manor owner and a black maid in a colony like Haiti.
.
This kind of illegitimate child is surprisingly common.
After all, this is France, and the only places with more illegitimate children than France are probably Austria and Italy under Austrian rule.
"What?" The black man looked confused, "I...well, although I have written sonnets, no one in Paris is willing to listen to me recite them. I am a private. You
Woolen cloth?"
Moreau: "I am a lawyer...Well, the General said you are a writer..."
The mulatto man smiled bitterly: "Ah, General, I don't know why you misunderstood my last name when you saw it."
Moreau: "Who are you? Sorry, I should introduce myself before asking for your name. I am Jean-Victor Marie Moreau. As I just said, I am a lawyer."
The mulatto man held Moreau's extended hand: "I am Thomas Alexandre Dumas. My family has four generations of nobles who have served in the army, but as you can see, because of my bloodline, I can only join the army from the rank of private."
Moreau: "Oh...the surname Dumas..."
"It's my mother's surname. Because I couldn't enjoy the shelter of my father's family in the army, I simply used my mother's name. I want to rectify the name of my black mother!" Alexandre Dumas said confidently.
But he immediately became discouraged: "But... I, a private, shouldn't be allowed to directly become the brigade commander."
Moreau: "You haven't learned how to be a brigade commander?"
"Of course I have studied. I have carefully studied all the knowledge required to become a qualified officer. But I have been a private in the French army for so long that I have given up. I plan to retire and go home to retire after becoming a sergeant.
Well, suddenly I was given a brigade commander! Your Excellency, the general, even said strangely that I was a writer..."
In fact, An Ning made a mistake on his own. He saw that this person was called Alexandre Dumas, and then he thought that this person was Alexandre Dumas.
However, this man is actually Alexandre Dumas's father. According to his seniority, he should be called Alexandre Dumas.
But at this time, no one could interpret this matter.
So Moreau could only stare at Dumas with big eyes.
At this time, new noise came from the headquarters.
"I protest! I want to see the general!" a forty-year-old middle-aged man with messy hair said angrily, "I am an architect! I came to join the army to help you repair the fortress! I am not here to command an infantry brigade.
of!"
At this time, Moreau and Dumas noticed the flag in the hands of the eloquent middle-aged man: a simple sixty-eight was displayed on the tricolor flag.
It seems that this is the brigade commander of the 68th Battle Infantry Brigade.
The brigade commander was still shouting: "I am an architect! I can only build things, not fight!"
Moreau and Dumas went over together and held down the man's shoulders, one on the left and the other on the right.
Morrow: "Brother, save it, I can see it. Now the general wishes that all those who are literate and can calculate artillery trajectories can be used as officers. I am a lawyer, and that person over there is a writer..."
Dumas: "I am a private! Not a writer!"
But your son will be, and he is a super powerful one, so it doesn’t matter.
The architect brother sighed: "Hey, I almost guessed it. How can such an army fight?"
Moreau: "Relax, our general is still a cobbler. I am the commander of the 67th Battle Infantry Brigade and former lawyer Jean-Victor Marie Moreau."
Dumas: "I am Thomas Alexandre Dumas, commander of the 66th Infantry Brigade. I am a former private. I don't know why I am regarded as a writer."
The old architect sighed and shook hands with the two of them in turn: "I am the commander of the 68th Infantry Brigade and a former architect, Jean-Baptiste Kleber. Please give me your advice in the future."