Descending On France 1780
Chapter 57 - 57 053 Naturally logical

57: 053 Naturally logical 57: 053 Naturally logical As a history enthusiast, Anning had always wanted to experience history firsthand, even if it were the history of another dimension.

For this, he must win this seat, so that in the future, he can sit in the National Assembly and witness those famous scenes with his own eyes.

In plain terms, Anning is currently treating this with the mindset of someone visiting a theme park, and everything he is doing right now is to secure a ticket to this “French Revolution” theme park.

The representatives of the Third Estate are elected—indeed, that’s true, but due to the limited organizational capabilities of this timeframe, the actual voter turnout in each district is shockingly low.

Thus, a more accurate description is: The representatives of the Third Estate are selected by the activists of the various regions.

A worker who is busy with earning a living and is occupied in some already quite sizable factories certainly has no time to vote and elect their own representatives.

In reality, those who do go to vote are the “activists” who often appear at various meetings, clubs, coffee shops, and tennis courts.

They are the main readers of the newspapers that are found everywhere on the streets, as well as the primary readers of those mass-printed propaganda pamphlets.

Not only that, but they are also the main audience for the salacious pamphlets about the Queen concocted by Mirabeau.

So with a little bit of thought, it is clear what kind of representatives these people would elect.

The King actually thinking of getting these people to obediently vote in favor of raising taxes is truly a pipe dream.

This morning, Anning got up early, as today is the day for voting in the district where the Paris Military Academy is located.

The nobles with titles would vote inside the Military Academy, and the elected representatives would represent the Second Class.

While the commoners would vote outside the Military Academy in George Square, electing those who could represent the Third Class.

Anning’s assigned district has only one Third Class seat, and he is determined to win it.

For this purpose, he specifically put on his most presentable suit, and even put on the wig issued by the school—the wig is a standard piece of equipment for officers; in this era, officers went into battle dressed like resplendently arrayed roosters.

Vanni looked at Anning, puzzled, and asked: “Aren’t you wearing your military uniform to go?”

Anning: “Military uniform would remind people of my officer status, they might think I belong to the nobles.

Identity is very important at this time.”

Vanni: “If you want to emphasize your commoner status, you shouldn’t wear breeches and silk stockings.”

Anning shook his head: “No, no, the voting time is in the morning, and at this time, the real trousers-wearing men are off to work, you understand?

Bread is so expensive now, they need to earn bread money.

“Those who come to vote are gentlemen who are commoners hoping to appear as decent as nobles.”

Or rather, small bourgeoisie, although this term hasn’t come into existence at this time.

Vanni: “Oh my, I actually think you make a lot of sense.”

“Hey!

I’ve always made sense, okay.”

“Maybe, I haven’t read much anyway, I don’t understand those complicated things you talk about.”

Anning looked at Vanni skeptically.

He didn’t quite believe that Vanni hadn’t read much.

Because Vanni could catch on to all sorts of references, giving the impression that she knew everything and could talk about anything.

But Vanni always said: “This is all hearsay from the gossip among the maids.”

Anning withdrew his gaze, looked at himself in the dressing mirror, then clapped his hands: “Okay, I shall set off like this, wait for my victorious return…”

“Wait a minute!” Vanni suddenly stopped Anning who was about to leave, and helped him straighten his clothes.

This move, akin to that of a newlywed wife, struck Anning’s heartstrings; he felt his fondness for the little maid growing at a visibly rapid pace.

Vanni: “There, now if you lose, it won’t be because of your attire!”

Anning: “You helped me straighten up just to say that, didn’t you!”

Vanni, impatiently urging Anning: “Come on now, hurry up, if you’re late to give your speech, then no one will vote for you!”

And with that, Vanni pushed Anning out onto the street.

The carriage he had hired was waiting for him at the door.

**

When Anning arrived at George Square, a large crowd of gentlemen had already gathered.

Anning carefully observed their attire: not a single one wore long trousers, all were urban middle class.

It seemed that all the lawyers, doctors, accountants, small businessmen, and clerks in the entire city had gathered in the square.

No one was making a speech.

Anning heard a loud voice asking, “Who exactly are we going to choose?

Whoever wants to run for election, come out and speak up!”

Anning looked towards the source of the loud voice and found a person wearing trousers, who looked like a street urchin based on his expression.

“Who exactly are we going to choose?” the street urchin shouted again, “Come on, stand up!”

Anning stood straight up on the flowerbed by the roadside, tore open his throat and bellowed, “I am a candidate for this district!”

Suddenly, all eyes around turned to Anning.

——Wait a second, why does this scene feel so much like “Everyone look at me, I’ve got an announcement, I’m the idiot*”…

To rid himself of the embarrassment, Anning continued, “I am Andy Frost!

The son of a shoemaker!

And now, a teacher at the French military academy!”

In fact, Anning had another identity; he held the rank of lieutenant and was an officer who could command service soldiers on the battlefield.

But Anning deliberately withheld this and instead highlighted his identity as a military academy teacher.

After introducing himself, Anning went on to say, “Many of you may have never heard my name, but I have a nickname that you are surely very familiar with!

Yes, I am the Noble Killer!

In duels, I have already killed three nobles!

“Five years ago, I threw my glove in the face of a noble who despised me, and then I started on the path of dueling.

With my sword, I made sure he would never look down on me again!

“Now, I am running for a seat to represent the Third Class in the Third Estate, to represent all of you, to go to the Third Estate and to throw the glove in the face of those noble lords!

“I want to say to these lords who look down on us, go to hell, the Third Class is everything!”

Sais’s pamphlet “What is the Third Class?” had already been published —— just as in another timeline of history, this booklet had become all the rage in Paris upon its release, and the vast majority of Parisians, regardless of whether they were literate or not, could recite by heart the famous lines within: The Third Class is everything!

Anning simply appropriated this pamphlet’s sentiment in his own speech.

As Anning expected, the audience began to cheer: “That’s right!”

“It is everything!”

“Go tell them at the Third Estate!

Tell His Majesty the King!”

At that moment, Anning’s opponent, the lawyer also competing for the seat in the same district, finally arrived.

He too found a flowerbed to stand upon, pointing at Anning across the spacious square: “Don’t listen to him!

He is an officer of the King!

As an officer, he must be loyal to the King!

He even has a medal given to him by Louis XVI!”

Anning was prepared for this accusation and produced the medal: “Are you talking about this?”

His opponent, as if he had discovered treasure, pointed at the medal and shouted, “Yes!

Look at it, this is the proof of his loyalty to the King!

He is…what are you going to do?”

Anning swung his arm in full circle, tossing the medal far away: “Whoever wants this worthless thing can take it!

I thought at first that getting a medal would make the nobles treat us as equals, but did they?

No, they haven’t!

Even with a medal from the King, in their eyes, I’m still just a commoner, a clodhopper!

Still an object of ridicule!

“I saw through this and that’s why I threw my glove in the face of that dismissive noble!

And then in the duel, I killed him fairly and squarely, lawfully and legitimately!”

The crowd cheered once again.

Anning noticed those street urchins mixed in the crowd, shouting the loudest; they just loved this kind of straightforwardness.

The lawyer tried to say something, but the cheers of the crowd drowned out his words.

Evidently, the lawyer’s experience with street politics was sorely lacking.

At this point, the lawyer suddenly decided to counterattack Anning in Latin: “We shouldn’t elect a mere soldier, doing so would only make the nobles laugh at us!”

As soon as Latin was spoken, the previously noisy crowd suddenly fell silent.

Clearly, even among the common folk, knowing Latin was indeed a bit more noble.

Anning retorted in Latin, “Who said I would be the butt of jokes?

Although I am the son of a leatherworker, I can still be proficient in Latin!”

The lawyer was stunned.

Then Anning said in French, “I just told this lawyer friend that, even if the son of a leatherworker, one could still know Latin!”

Anning then switched to Italian, “Not only Latin, I know many other languages too!”

He switched again to German, “I even learned these languages before entering the military academy!

Not even those nobles could have such exceptional learning abilities!”

The crowd cheered once again — though they didn’t understand a word Anning had said.

Anning, sensing the momentum, felt he was probably secure in his position.