From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

That evening, in the villages surrounding Propriano, a town in central Ajaccio.

"Hey hoo"

Little George struggled to carry two loads of olive fruits on the path in the forest, preparing to transport the fruits for oil extraction from the plantation to his backyard to dry.

Although the forest path was extremely rugged and the burden on his shoulders weighed hundreds of pounds, the boy who was sweating profusely had a bright smile on his face, and he was also humming a cheerful country ballad intermittently. .

After all, nearly a year has passed since Corsica officially implemented land reform and agricultural tax reform. Little George, who became a free citizen, no longer works hard for the landlords. Every drop of sweat he sheds now. will become the fruits of one's own labor.

Compared to a year ago, the boy's appearance had changed a lot. His cheeks were whiter and fatter, and he was no longer as pale as Lawrence had seen before. Although his body still looked a little frail, But he is no longer as skinny and skinny as before.

What prompted these changes was not a panacea, it was just that the serfs, who had been struggling under the oppression of the landlords, broke free from their shackles and took back the wealth that should belong to them and was created by their own hands.

For the liberated freedmen, just one year has passed. Although their lives have not reached the point of prosperity, at least they no longer regard survival as a top priority every day as they did in the past.

White bread and jam are no longer delicacies that can only be given out by landlords during festivals. Many ordinary people can also bring a little meat and bread to their dining tables.

Propriano is the first and most thorough town to complete the two major reforms. Little George living here can clearly feel these previously unimaginable changes:

Last September, when officials from the Ministry of Finance came here following Prime Minister Bonaparte's army to implement the land reform, little George was assigned two acres of fields and more than one acre of olive groves after registering his household registration.

But at that time, little George was extremely melancholy about the land he was assigned. After all, although he had obtained the status of a free citizen, he was still living in poverty. He had almost no savings of a copper coin, and the expenses for purchasing farm tools, seeds, and fertilizers were huge. Not a small sum of money.

In fact, this was also the concern of many newly emancipated freedmen at that time.

Fortunately, the Corsican Ministry of Finance also quickly noticed this problem. Minister Coggero quickly borrowed part of the book funds from the Corsican National Silver Company, and the Ministry of Finance directly led the distribution of low interest rates to farmers in need in various places. Even interest-free loans.

By the end of September last year, little George successfully obtained an interest-free loan of nearly 500 livres.

At that time, he had never seen such a huge sum of money in his life, and he never thought that the government of the Lord would distribute such a large amount of money to serfs like them, who were once as humble as ants.

After being excited for several days, this sensible and house-keeping boy finally calmed down and used the loan to purchase the equipment and livestock needed for next spring farming, and built an additional small oil-pressing workshop in the courtyard of his farmhouse.

In the late spring of this year, when the olive fruits in the forest farm first matured, little George used his own oil pressing workshop to produce several large barrels of high-quality olive oil after farming.

At first, little George, like many farmers, was worried about the marketability of this batch of olive oil. However, when they sent their goods to the town market for sale, they were surprised to find that in less than half a day, a group of extremely generous people The French businessman actually bought more than half of the goods in the market without any bargaining.

Little George didn't understand these French people at first, but later he heard a knowledgeable scholar in the town say:

There is a prosperous port city in France called Marseille. The city official there recently issued a decree stating that merchants in Marseille who import goods from Corsica will not only be exempted from import duties as usual, but will also receive additional tax. Financial subsidies from the city hall and other tax incentives were used to encourage the Marseille Chamber of Commerce to import products from Corsica; it is said that the city official issued such a decree in order to please Bonaparte.

Little George didn't know what tariffs and tax benefits were, and he didn't know why the city official wanted to please Bonaparte. He only knew that farmers and craftsmen seemed to have no worries about sales now, including his own. That batch of olive oil was eventually sold to a French businessman wearing gold and silver at a price far exceeding expectations.

Little George still can't forget his excitement and excitement after receiving the first income in his life that was completely owned and controlled by himself.

He used the money to repay part of the loan, had his farmhouse repaired, bought two pairs of dried meats that he had dreamed of but didn't know how they tasted, and even bought a set of warm cotton clothes in advance for this winter.

After doing all this, little George truly felt at that moment that he was a free and dignified Corsican citizen.

As for the Bonaparte who brought about all these changes and had a chance encounter with him, little George sincerely believed that he could use his life to follow Bonaparte at any time. After all, it was the adult who gave him a new life.

Looking across Corsica, little George's experience this year is actually a microcosm of the thousands of liberated serfs.

However, even though he has lived the life he dreamed of, little George still has a deep worry in his heart recently - he heard that Corsica has gone into full-scale war with the neighboring Kingdom of Sardinia.

The boy firmly believed that Lord Bonaparte could once again lead Corsica to victory in the war like General Paoli. However, there were also many experienced old people in the town who said that the national power of the Kingdom of Sardinia was several times greater than that of Corsica. This war will probably be a disaster.

Especially yesterday, when little George was working in the fields, he encountered a group of panic-stricken Corsicans fleeing south. When he asked about it, he learned that these people were citizens of Ajaccio and Sardinia who were fleeing south. The kingdom has launched an attack on the capital Ajaccio.

When he thought of this, Little George's expression suddenly became much heavier, and the cheerful ballad lingering in his mouth suddenly stopped.

Like thousands of other Corsicans, he was anxious to know what was going on in Ajaccio, especially for free people who had only been freed for a year. They would rather die. Nor was he willing to be enslaved by the Sardinians and return to his past life of slavery.

"If the Sardinians occupy Ajaccio, then I will join the army! I will never let everyone live the same life as before!"

Walking on the dark and rugged forest path, little George was still absent-mindedly thinking about the war. As early as last year, when he saw with his own eyes the Corsican army that came to liberate him, the boy had already made up his mind. , he will not hesitate to answer the call when Corsica needs him.

At this moment, he suddenly noticed something strange on the road to the north - large groups of birds were flapping their wings and heading south, and many animals were fleeing south as if they were frightened. Little George also saw a deer with his own eyes. The group quickly shuttled through the forest and soon disappeared into the dense forest in the south.

The boy was a little confused. He took off the pole on his shoulders, carefully came to the edge of the hilly cliff, and looked at the road connecting Ajaccio and Propriano:

I saw a team of thousands of people marching slowly on this winding main road like a long dragon. The torches in their hands were very conspicuous in the dim sky, allowing little George to clearly see the team. full picture.

Their formation was very loose. The distance from the front to the end of the team was at least two miles, and their marching speed was extremely slow. Many people inside seemed to be exhausted and would collapse every few steps. Sit down and take a deep breath.

"This is.!"

Little George was immediately startled. Although he couldn't see clearly the characteristics of the other party's clothing, he still instantly recognized that the team marching towards Propriano must be an army. There was no chamber of commerce nearby that could Such a large staff size.

However, compared with the orderly marching and well-organized Corsican army that little George saw last year, this loose army is really far behind.

"Could this be the Sardinian army? How could they show up here and ignore them? I have to inform the town of this news immediately!"

Little George swallowed hard and didn't dare to think about it for a moment.

He directly threw the valuable load of olive fruits on the roadside and ran back to his home with all his strength. He didn't even have time to pack up his belongings, so he immediately took out the family's milling mule and harnessed it neatly. He put on the saddle and immediately rode at full speed towards the center of the town without looking back.

Less than an hour later, inside Propriano City Hall.

"You mean an army is heading here?!"

Constantine, the city official nicknamed "Skinny Monkey", listened with shock to the breathless boy in front of him as he told what he had witnessed on the northern road.

"I understand, you go and rest first, kid, you look exhausted."

After understanding all the necessary information, the skinny monkey Constantine couldn't help but fell into deep thought:

"The main force of the National Defense Force is still in the south. Judging from the child's description, it is probably the Sardinian army attacking Ajaccio. So Ajaccio should be defended!"

Although it was speculated that the capital Ajaccio had not been lost, the mayor's expression was not much better at this time. After all, even a fleeing Sardinian army was definitely not something that the small town of Propriano could resist. of.

Once that group of brutal Sardinians entered the town, Slender Monkey Constantine could fully predict what kind of hell this town, which had only enjoyed prosperity for a year, would become under the plunder of the Sardinians.

Thinking of this, the skinny monkey Constantine couldn't help biting his lips tightly, and didn't even notice the strands of blood seeping out from between his lips.

A year ago, when Governor Bonaparte's army went south to suppress the rebels of the landlord group, the thin monkey Constantine became famous for leading the serf soldiers to revolt in the ancient fortress and taking the initiative to lead the fortress defenders to surrender to Governor Bonaparte. Big noise.

As a result, he was personally received by Governor Bonaparte, and was awarded a Blue Heart Medal that only Corsican school-level officers were eligible to receive, as well as a large sum of generous rewards.

After the war, the freed skinny monkey Constantine moved to Propriano.

With the promulgation and implementation of the "Charter of the Kingdom of Corsica" this year, the official positions of local city halls are no longer hereditary control by local squires as in the past, but are instead elected by voters in each locality. leader.

The thin monkey Constantine, who became famous during the war and was regarded as a symbol of the serfs' resistance to oppression, was enthusiastically supported by Propriano's fellow villagers in the election and was elected as the new leader. Term aldermen.

From a former serf to a city official, even Constantine himself has not recovered from this huge class leap for a long time. After all, this kind of thing was absolutely impossible to happen before.

If the previous landowners heard that a serf wanted to become a city councilor, they would laugh half to death first, and then lock the idiot in a pig pen for a few days to sober up.

Because of this, even though he has only been a mayor for a few months, the skinny monkey Constantine does not want to let down the trust of the people here at all. If he can use his own life in exchange for Propriano to avoid this Even if there is a disaster, he will agree to this deal without hesitation.

"Damn, what should I do?"

Of course, such a convenient and fast transaction does not exist in reality. The thin monkey Constantine had to rack his brains and think about it. Now there is not much time left for him:

"Is it impossible to take the initiative to surrender to the Sardinians? That would be putting yourself on the chopping block; but if you resist directly, it is impossible to stop that army with hundreds of militiamen in the town; or should you? Immediately inform the people of this news and lead them to flee south."

Although his rationality tells him that the option with the least loss at the moment should be to immediately lead the people to retreat south to seek shelter from the main force of the National Defense Forces, but even this optimal solution will inevitably cause immeasurable losses to the nearby people and their homes. It is very likely that it will be ravaged by the enemy and turned into ruins.

The city official was thinking hard, wondering if there were other ways. As early as when he was a serf, he was famous in the countryside for his quick thinking and insight. This is why he was one of the first to recognize the landlord group. The serfs were destined to be defeated and were the first to resist.

"Judging from the description of the child just now, the Sardinian troops appear to be in disarray and with low morale. In other words, they must have suffered a defeat in Ajaccio and then chose to retreat south."

The skinny monkey Constantine held his forehead hard and quickly recalled all the information about this war so far in his mind:

"Those citizens who fled from Ajaccio also said that the Sardinians launched their attack from the sea around noon yesterday, and it took almost half a day to get from Ajaccio to Propriano, that is to say After the defeat in Ajaccio, did this army have no time to rest and recuperate, so they rushed here without stopping?

And they launched the attack from the sea, so this unit must not have carried enough supplies; high-intensity fighting and long-term rapid marches, coupled with the lack of supplies, explain why this unit is at this moment. Morale is so low, they must have come to Propriano to plunder supplies.”

After clarifying the current situation, a desperate plan that was almost no different from suicide suddenly appeared in his mind - to teach these invaders a bloody lesson in this town!

Constantine's body was trembling slightly. He knew that his decision at this moment would determine the life and death of tens of thousands of people in this town. However, after a very brief hesitation, the city official still clenched his fists and chose to stay on the ground. Waiting in this town for the arrival of the Sardinians.

Although he still didn't know what the overall direction of this war would be, Constantine had already vaguely realized that he absolutely could not allow the fleeing Sardinian army to regroup without any worries on this land.

Once the Sardinian army regroups in Propriano, this enemy force, which is no less than the main force of the Wehrmacht, will inevitably become a serious problem for Corsica.

After making such a determination, the skinny monkey Constantine no longer dared to waste even a second. He immediately summoned the officials of the city hall and conveyed his order.

Nearly an hour and a half later, the sky completely darkened, and darkness once again enveloped Corsica.

The Sardinian landing force led by Colonel Bartland finally arrived at Propriano, the largest town in central Corsica, after almost a full day of high-intensity marching.

"Huhu."

Colonel Bartland was sweating profusely and panting. Even his military uniform was completely soaked with sweat. When he saw this brightly lit town appearing in front of him, he felt relieved. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Since the landing attack was launched from the fleet, and Colonel Bartland did not expect that they would be defeated in Ajaccio, this force did not carry any mounts at all, not even Colonel Bartland, as the commander. A moving animal had to march on foot for a whole day like ordinary soldiers.

To make matters worse, the logistical supplies of this landing force originally relied on sea supply lines, and they themselves did not carry enough food and drinking water at all.

What's more, when they hurriedly fled Ajaccio this morning, this unit was forced to use its limited carrying capacity to carry weapons and ammunition under the orders of Colonel Bartland, and abandoned those precious rations in the port of Ajaccio. .

This directly led to the low morale of this army at the moment - almost all of the more than 6,000 soldiers were hungry and exhausted, and half of them had not eaten a piece of bread since noon yesterday. .

And they had to endure this never-ending hunger while marching on the rugged trails of Corsica all day today. Many soldiers were left behind the main force due to lack of physical strength, and some of the wounded even died at all. Unable to bear such a long march, he closed his eyes forever halfway and collapsed on this foreign land.

The soldiers who were able to follow Colonel Bartland after a day and night of bloody fighting and a full day of high-intensity marching had basically reached their physiological limits at this moment.

Even the colonel himself was in a miserable state at the moment, with unkempt hair, obvious dark circles around his eyes, and even his eye sockets were deeply sunken, like a haggard patient in the late stages of cancer.

The reason why he fled south in such a hurry, not daring to take a moment to rest in the middle, was also because he was afraid of the sudden appearance of the French Mediterranean fleet. No one could tell whether the French fleet would be fully loaded and heading for Corsica. French soldiers fighting.

After marching and retreating until evening, and confirming that there was no enemy pursuit in the direction of Ajaccio, Colonel Bartland breathed a sigh of relief and ordered the soldiers to hold on for a little longer. They would soon be able to station themselves in a prosperous building. Rest in town.

Standing at the edge of the town, Colonel Bartland was about to order his men to enter, but he saw a group of advance scouts turning back and reporting:

"Sir, there is a group of people waiting on the road ahead. They bring more than a dozen fully loaded freight carriages. They claim to be local municipal officials. Under the leadership of the municipal official, they welcome our arrival."

"Welcome? It's interesting. Let them come over."

Colonel Bartland grinned. It seemed that these Corsican country bumpkins had heard of the reputation of the Kingdom of Sardinia. However, he did not relax his vigilance, so he did not go there rashly. Instead, he ordered the soldiers to take these things away after inspection. Bring it to yourself.

Although the colonel did not believe that a town with only a few hundred militia guards at most would dare to resist his own army, if the other party really wanted to play some conspiracy, Colonel Butland did not want to cause trouble.

Soon, a group of municipal officials, led by the thin monkey Constantine, drove a carriage loaded with goods to Colonel Bartland.

Before the colonel could say anything, the soldiers around him immediately looked at the carriages, which were filled with sacks and clay pots. The sacks were full of bread and soybeans, and the clay pots smelled... It is a mellow and attractive wine.

Although the food and wine were not delicacies, for these Sardinian soldiers who were so hungry that their chests were pressed to their bellies, they could not wait to throw themselves on the carriage and drink to their heart's content.

Even Colonel Bartram couldn't help but salivate when he smelled the aroma of the wine. This country-brewed wine was far inferior to the champagne and brandy he drank at the banquet in Turin, but now that he was exhausted both physically and mentally , even these sour wines were better to him than all the fine wines in the world.

"Greetings to you, respected General, and all the military lords."

The skinny monkey Constantine took a few steps forward and bowed humbly and respectfully:

"I am the alderman of this town, you can call me Constantine."

"Are you the alderman here?"

Colonel Bartland swallowed, and turned his gaze from the wine bottles to the dark-skinned, unattractive man in front of him, without concealing the contempt and superiority in his eyes:

"Corsica is really the only uncivilized place in Europe that can allow someone like you to become a mayor. I think you look exactly like a monkey."

Faced with this straightforward humiliation, Constantine laughed heartily and made a head-scratching gesture like a circus clown:

"Hahahaha, what the General said is true. People here call me Skinny Monkey."

Constantine already looked like a monkey, and coupled with this funny action, Colonel Bartland was immediately amused and couldn't help laughing, grinning for a while.

"And, as you said, this place is really a barbaric and barren land. It is simply incomparable to the rich and elegant Po River Plain in the Kingdom of Sardinia as rumored."

The skinny monkey Constantine immediately complimented him, and even his voice was shrill and comical, like a lad in an opera:

"So when we heard that the mighty army of the Kingdom of Sardinia was coming to this town, we were really frightened. We specially prepared some food and wine for you military masters to enjoy; there are also some reserves in the town warehouse, everyone. If the military master feels that it is not enough, you can use it as much as you like; if you military masters want to stay here for one night, it will be an honor for me. I have ordered people to prepare enough houses in advance, although I can’t say how comfortable it is. , but it’s definitely better than sleeping in the wild.”

As soon as they heard that there was enough food, free drinks and indoor accommodation, the eyes of the extremely haggard soldiers around them instantly lit up, and they wished they could press their lips to make him agree quickly.

Colonel Butland, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes slightly and did not completely relax his vigilance. Constantine's flattering appearance always made him feel that something was wrong:

"Oh? I have never heard of Corsican people being so hospitable."

"Hahaha, that's not to say that I'm completely hospitable, dear general." Constantine seemed not to notice Colonel Butland's concerns, and said with a loud apology:

"As the mayor of this place, I do have a merciless request. The people here are as ignorant as you have heard, but they will never dare to offend you in the slightest. If you treat If there is any misunderstanding or conflict right now, please be kind to the military gentlemen and let those ignorant people go."

"Ah, I understand."

Colonel Butland's concern faded a lot in an instant. Although Constantine said it as a very subtle compliment, Colonel Butland instantly understood what he meant - the city official hoped to actively provide the Sardinian army with We need supplies in exchange for this army not to kill and plunder wantonly here.

After understanding the motive of such a flattering man in front of him, Colonel Bartland was no longer so vigilant. He immediately ordered the soldiers to check the food and drinks on the carriages. After confirming that they had not been poisoned, he accepted He accepted the kindness of this monkey-like city official.

As the saying goes, don't hit the smiling man. Colonel Bartland originally wanted to boost the sluggish morale by allowing his men to loot and plunder in this town. However, since the city official is so aware of current affairs, and the soldiers themselves It was already tiring enough, so the colonel decided to let the people here for one night.

After all, if the Sardinian Army wanted to collect these supplies through violent means, it would probably take a lot of effort.

Of course, Colonel Butland does not intend to keep this promise all the time. After his troops have rested and recuperated here, he still plans to indulge his soldiers in killing and looting in this town to boost their morale and prepare to return to the army. The main force of the Sica Defense Force broke through the encirclement and swam back to Sardinia from the southern channel.

In less than a moment, Constantine and a group of Sardinian soldiers entered the town.

The skinny monkey Constantine even led a tall horse for Colonel Bartland in a serious manner. He nodded and bowed to saddle the commander, and personally invited the arrogant Colonel Bartland and his trusted officers to the end of the city hall. Nice room to stay.

As for the more than 6,000 soldiers of the Sardinian Army, they were scattered to live in vacated houses in every corner of the town under the leadership of various municipal officials.

At first, some Sardinian non-commissioned officers complained about why their entire army was not allowed to live in the same area, but as the municipal officials presented food and wine to the hungry and thirsty soldiers, their complaining mouths stopped. It was quickly filled with bread and wine.

A few hours later, at midnight, the town of Propriano, which had been in commotion because of the garrison of Sardinian soldiers, finally returned to calm.

These soldiers devoured countless pieces of bread and hundreds of cans of wine in just a few hours. Many soldiers did not settle down after eating and drinking. Instead, they took advantage of the drunkenness to wander on the streets of the town. To cause trouble, they would even rush into houses in groups and plunder women into their own residences.

The alderman Constantine, who learned of this, was accompanying Colonel Bartland to a banquet.

He first complimented the commander on his skillful management of the army, and then vaguely mentioned the atrocities committed by this group of Sardinian soldiers in the town, and asked Colonel Bartland to abide by the agreement and order the soldiers not to leave them. 's residence.

Colonel Bartram, who was already very comfortable with the compliments of the smooth-tongued Constantine, was also in a state of drunkenness at the time, so he readily issued an order requiring all soldiers to stay in the house to rest tonight, and no one was allowed to go out again. stir up trouble.

After midnight, these Sardinian soldiers who had been marching fiercely for two days and one night finally fell asleep in the endless sleepiness. Even around the area where these soldiers lived, bursts of thunder could be clearly heard. snoring.

Colonel Bartland, who lived in the city hall with his trusted officers, also fell asleep soon after the banquet. Although he did not personally fight the Corsicans, he commanded a legion of thousands of people at all times. It was a very mentally demanding thing, not to mention that he didn't close his eyes for two whole days and one night.

"Huhu. Huh?"

Colonel Bartland, who was sleeping soundly, suddenly woke up. He sat up from the bed with a look of suspicion on his face, and his hangover was immediately reduced by half.

As a frontline officer for many years, the slightest disturbance can wake him up immediately from his sleep, and he vaguely heard the sound of noisy footsteps, as if a large group of people had just rushed into the city hall.

He sat on the bed and listened attentively, and soon confirmed his feeling. There was indeed a gradually increasing sound of footsteps in the city hall, and the sound was growing rapidly in his ears, as if it was about to come. Reach the door of this room.

Colonel Bartland picked up the lampstand next to the bed and was about to get up and go out to investigate when he saw his door being kicked open violently. The thick wooden door hit the wall with a loud clang:

"I'll catch you without mercy! You shameless invader!"

A roar of thunder exploded in the colonel's ears, completely wiping out the last trace of his sleepiness and even making him barely hold the lampstand in his hand.

With the help of the erratic and slender flames, Colonel Bartland saw clearly the man standing outside the door and shouting at him - that was the monkey-like alderman whom he regarded as a clown and used for fun. Constantine.

But at this time, Constantine was no longer the fawning and funny person he was a few hours ago.

He held the knife in his right hand and glared angrily at Colonel Bartland who had not yet come to his senses. The sharp white blade could even clearly reflect Colonel Bartland's frightened and dazed eyes.

The dozen or so people standing behind Constantine were also staring at Colonel Bartland with burning eyes. They were not uniformly dressed and looked no different from ordinary townspeople. Even the weapons in their hands were of various kinds. Some of them were wearing different clothes. Armed with muskets, some holding swords, and some even holding pitchforks, they followed Constantine into the city hall.

It was obvious that these people were not serious soldiers. They were either the town's militia or simply a group of townspeople who had gathered temporarily.

Colonel Butland was more confused than frightened at this time. He did not understand the purpose of such a ragtag group of people rushing in front of him with weapons. Even though his army had just suffered a defeat in Ajaccio, he wanted to conquer this city. The town was reduced to ruins with just one word from him:

"Constantine! What on earth are you doing!"

Constantine walked into the room with a knife and directly used the sword in his hand to force Colonel Bartland into the corner of the room:

"Shut your stupid mouth, hold your head and squat down!"

Colonel Bartland's pupils trembled. He couldn't accept that this clown dared to talk to him like this. He couldn't help but gritted his teeth and shouted angrily:

"You monkey! Don't you know what will happen if you do this?! I hope you are mentally prepared!"

"I will return this question to you unchanged."

Constantine put the tip of the knife against Colonel Bartland's nose mercilessly, and the tip of the knife was even stained with a little blood red:

"Invaders, did you ever think about your fate when you set foot on Corsica? I hope you are also mentally prepared and ready to plunge into the vast ocean of the Corsican People's War."