Descending On France 1780
Chapter 38 - 38 034 I can hardly stand the quacks of this era anymore

38: 034 I can hardly stand the quacks of this era anymore 38: 034 I can hardly stand the quacks of this era anymore The celebration banquet was held at the Duke’s mansion.

Anning, as a country bumpkin who couldn’t dance, basically just hung around the edge of the dance floor snacking.

The refreshments provided by the Duke’s mansion were quite delicious, allowing Anning to feast to his heart’s content.

It seemed that Robespierre wasn’t too keen on dancing either, so he came over to Anning and started a chat.

Anning first took a jab at Robespierre’s coat: “Why are you still wearing this green coat?

You should have worn something more formal for tonight’s dance.

Even I borrowed a suit from the Duke.”

Anning had previously bought formal attire, which he wore out to a duel today, but got shot in the shoulder and stained it with a large bloodstain, rendering it unwearable.

Since that was Anning’s only formal attire, he had no choice but to ask the Duke for a loan.

Robespierre shrugged, “As I said, I only have this one coat.

My tuition and living expenses all come from Mr.

Priest from Alas; I don’t have that much spare cash to buy new formal attire.

Moreover, whether a person is respectable or not depends mainly on their character, not their clothes.

Even wearing this old green outfit, my character is still beyond reproach.”

—Of course, you’re the “Incorruptible,” naturally impeccable.

However, Robespierre didn’t have this nickname yet; his current nickname was the Roman.

Robespierre glanced around the venue and said loudly, “Look at this venue.

Even at the Duke’s ball, there aren’t many Nobles who grace it with their presence.”

This kind of dance wasn’t by invitation; even without an invitation, people who wanted to come could do so.

Normally, at the Duke’s dances, there would be plenty of minor nobles wishing to curry favor with the Duke and try to get acquainted, but today the majority of the guests at the entire venue were common gentlemen from the Brittany Club, with few nobles in attendance.

Anning: “Maybe the nobles don’t really want to congratulate the son of a Leatherworker, do they?”

Robespierre: “I looked around, and the nobles who came today are basically liberal Nobles who support Rousseau and Montesquieu.

I think I also saw Marquis Lafayette.”

Anning: “I saw him too.

He came over to toast me, and then went off to talk to the Duke.”

After all, Lafayette had participated in the North American war and witnessed the free people of the North American colonies rebel against the King and establish a federal republic; so he didn’t care much about noble privileges.

Robespierre: “If only there were more nobles like Marquis Lafayette and Duke Tolleson, our country would certainly become better.

Now some nobles are both foolish and wicked.”

“Yes indeed,” Anning agreed, “How can you govern a country well with these vermin together!”

“Exactly!” Dan Dong also joined in, “You did great today, directly venting the frustrations of us commoners!

From today onwards, you are the Paris Duel King.”

Robespierre shook his head: “Killing just one Marquis won’t change anything; the noble lords still sit high above us.

Who knows when we can thoroughly change this situation and achieve a true society of the common people…”

Anning thought to himself, don’t rush, it’s coming in nine years, and it will be far more intense than you imagine.

While Anning was lost in thought, Robespierre continued, “I want to write to His Grace the Duke, asking him to go to the King and lay out the advantages and disadvantages in person, to convince His Majesty to establish a civil society like the UK!”

Anning reflexively objected, “Impossible, His Majesty is only interested in fiddling with his locks, he has no intention of dealing with these troublesome matters.”

Robespierre glared at Anning, “How can you say such a thing?

Did His Majesty not start the war with Prussia?”

“The war might have been provoked by that Austrian princess, including the alliance with the Habsburgs.” Anning shrugged, “Anyway, don’t expect the King to initiate top-down reforms; he simply doesn’t have that in mind.

He is just a Locksmith; don’t ask for too much.”

Suddenly, Dan Dong laughed: “Anning, do you realize?

The fact that you can speak of His Majesty this way is already a tremendous progress.

In the time of Louis XIV, at least you’d be whipped for doing this.”

Anning shrugged, “After all, we are in the stronghold of the Duke of Orleans; the one speaking ill of the Royal Family the most is the Duke himself.”

Dan Dong: “That’s true.

So does His Grace the Duke have any hope of becoming King?

If he becomes King, maybe he can realize Maximilien’s dream of weakening noble privileges and establishing a society of the common people.”

Anning glanced at the Duke far away, who was talking deeply with Marquis Lafayette.

To be fair, the Duke was deeply influenced by Enlightenment ideas.

If Louis XVI were to suddenly pass away, and the young Prince were to succeed, there was indeed a possibility that the Duke of Orleans would become the Regent King of France, and then, he might implement a series of reforms.

But the problem is, the Revolution is coming.

Instead of hoping for gradual reforms from a Regent King, it would be better to do it in one step: abolish the monarchy, send the obstinate nobles up to the street lamps and the guillotine, and start from scratch to build a society of citizens.

Dan Dong: “Anning, what do you think?”

“My view is that social contradictions have already become so intense; it’s possible that France can no longer wait for slow top-down reforms.” Anning paused for a moment, “Actually, my duels with the Marquis, and the Marquis’s son, can also be seen as a microcosm of the conflict between the nobility and the commoners, can’t they?

The nobility dislikes us and wants to restore their authority, but we stand up and say no.”

Dan Dong and Robespierre exchanged looks.

Robespierre: “Indeed that makes some sense.

When I’m at home, my father often has to deal with conflicts between nobles and commoners.”

Dan Dong: “Reginald, the Marquis’s son, also often provokes commoners, looking for all sorts of trouble.”

“Right?

So I feel that in these increasingly tense times, all it needs is a trigger, like a natural disaster that reduces the grain production.

Once the commoners can’t survive, their conflict with the nobility will explode.”

Dan Dong: “Your theory…

is kind of interesting.

When will this natural disaster arrive?”

“I have no idea.

Why don’t you ask God?” Anning shrugged.

In fact, he knew that in 1788, France suffered consecutive natural disasters that led to a significant reduction in grain production.

By 1789, the price of bread had skyrocketed, and people could barely afford to eat bread, resulting in unprecedented calls for change.

Just at that time, Louis XVI decided to convene the Third Estate, essentially bringing the scattered community leaders to Paris.

As a result, the starving masses found their spokespeople and organizers.

And so, the Great Revolution erupted.

Of course, it’s still too early to discuss these things now, and Anning wasn’t keen on becoming a soothsayer predicting a reduction in the grain supply, so the topic had to end here.

Just then, Mirabeau came over.

Drunk as a lord, he came over and slapped Anning on the shoulder, saying: “I heard that you plan to enroll in the Briena Military School with the young lady this year.”

Anning nodded: “That’s the plan.

But I don’t know when Briena Military School will start…”

“Not in a few days, I reckon.

You’ll probably have to go to school before the wound on your shoulder even heals,” said Mirabeau, patting Anning’s shoulder lightly, “You should have the Duke’s doctor take a look, might heal a bit faster.”

Anning shook his head repeatedly, not wanting the quacks of this era to touch his wounds: “It’s okay, I’m tough, plus I’ll use alcohol to clean the wound, that should be enough.”

Mirabeau: “You probably don’t know, but to judge whether a wound is healing or not, you need to see if it’s festering.

If it starts festering, it means it’s getting better…”

Anning wanted to facepalm.

This wasn’t just Mirabeau talking nonsense—doctors of this era truly believed it.

But as a modern man, he naturally knew it was wrong.

Anning: “It’s fine, really, I recover quite quickly.

It’s just a bullet wound.”

Mirabeau just shrugged and then switched tones: “By the way, I’ve heard a new title for you from some nobles I met; they’re now calling you the Noble Killer.”

Anning: “Isn’t that a pretty cool nickname?”

Robespierre and Dan Dong laughed together.

“Not cool at all!” Christina suddenly appeared, all puffed up with anger, “You actually saved me!

Calling you a killer is unreasonable.”

Anning: “I only saved you, but I killed a Marquis and an Earl, though the earl’s title was an honorary one.”

Mirabeau: “The guy from earlier today was also a noble; don’t forget, knights count as nobility too.”

Anning: “So, I’ve killed three nobles but saved only you.

It’s fairly normal for them to call me a killer.”

Christina looked at Anning worriedly: “You don’t understand how much this title can affect you!

For example, if you want to rise high in the military, having this title is absolutely disastrous, because the military’s top ranks are all filled with nobles!”

Anning smiled, thinking to himself that she needn’t worry about it because the Revolution was near.

But, of course, he couldn’t say that at this moment, so he could only reassure Christina: “After I go to Briena Military School, I plan to take the entrance examination for the Paris Officer Academy.

By the time I graduate, this will all have been long forgotten.

You’d do better to worry more about this wound on my shoulder.”

Christina: “How’s your wound?

Are you feeling okay?

I heard from the doctor that having a fever will help you heal faster, are you feverish?”

Doctors of this era did not know about microbes, nor did they understand that developing a fever after an injury meant infection; they merely observed that many patients with fevers recovered somewhat, so they believed developing a fever after an injury was a good thing.

Just like how they believed festering was a good thing.

Anning: “I don’t feel feverish at the moment…”

“That’s terrible!

How about I have the maid bring some hot water for a warm compress?”

Great, Christina was dead set on having Anning ‘burn it out.’

Anning started to regret mentioning the wound on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I recover very quickly.

It won’t be long before I’m bouncing around again.” That was all Anning could say to Christina.

But the girl still looked at him with worry, suggesting again: “What about applying some lime to your wound?

It will cause festering faster, and it’ll heal quicker!”

Anning wanted to hide his face.

— Damn it, I should have ended up in an era with slightly more reliable medical knowledge!

Pasteur, I need you to hurry up and come.

I can’t stand the quacks of this era anymore!

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