Axel
patreon
The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 117
🕑 Added 2025-04-03 20:07:00 +0000 UTCChapter 117: Terrifying Administrative Efficiency
At the police academy training grounds, a police officer quickly ran over to report the situation outside to Joseph and the others.
"Baron Bessonval?" Upon hearing this name, Joseph couldn't help but frown slightly.
Wasn't this the commander of the French Guard?
When the people of Paris attacked the Bastille, this man not only failed to intervene, but actually relocated all his troops to the outskirts, to the Mars Camp.
If it was just passive observation, that would be one thing, but he even sent a team of artillery to assist in bombarding the Bastille. Furthermore, his troops were often supplied at the Royal Palace of the Loire, which essentially confirmed that he was part of the Orleans faction. With such a person in charge of Paris, it was no surprise that Louis XVI couldn’t control the situation.
This kind of person, Joseph definitely had to replace, but for the moment, he needed to maintain the stability of the military aristocracy, so he hadn't acted yet.
However, now that the man had come to him, there was no need to offer him any politeness.
...
Not long after, Froyent appeared at the training grounds, saluting with his hat in hand. "You must be General Bessonval. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"My name is Froyent, and I am the Chief Administrator of the Paris Police Academy. Is there something I can assist you with?"
Bessonval sat upright on his horse, slightly nodding his head and pointing with his whip toward the training grounds. "Why is there the sound of cannons here?"
"Cannon fire?" Froyent, following the police academy's "Confidential Plan," smiled and said, "Ah, we are holding a ceremony for completing a training assessment, and the cannons are fired to celebrate."
Bessonval paused, then curtly replied, "I’m asking you, why is there cannon fire at a police academy training ground?!"
"Your Excellency, there is no decree prohibiting police academies from possessing cannons, is there?"
Bessonval was momentarily taken aback, as it seemed there wasn't such a law—after all, there hadn't even been police academies before, so how could there be relevant decrees?
He furrowed his brow and asked, "Why did you buy cannons?"
Froyent, with full conviction, responded, "Of course, to maintain law and order in the city."
"Maintaining order with cannons?!" Bessonval replied, incredulously.
Froyent nodded firmly, "General Bessonval, do you remember the 'Flour Riots' a few years ago, when those rioters built barricades at the street corners? Even the troops sent to suppress the unrest couldn’t get past those obstacles.
"We believe that if something like that were to happen again in Paris, cannons would be the only way to restore order."
"If a riot really does break out, you policemen wouldn't be able to handle it either," Bessonval sneered, eyeing him with disdain. "Just last month, when rioters surrounded the Supreme Court for so long, not one policeman dared to suppress them."
Froyent was shocked and replied, "Your Excellency, those protesters were calling for severe punishment of the notorious Vezinier. Do you think they should be suppressed?"
"You…" Bessonval was at a loss for words. The public opinion at that time had already equated Vezinier with crime. Anyone who dared to oppose this stance would have been ostracized by the citizens of Paris.
He glared at Froyent fiercely, raising his hand arrogantly, "Step aside. Important people are coming soon, and I need to ensure the security of this area. Now, I must enter and inspect."
Froyent stood his ground without moving, smiling faintly. "I’m afraid that’s not possible, General Bessonval, unless you have orders from His Majesty the King or the Police Bureau."
Bessonval had never regarded the police with any respect. He turned to give a signal to his accompanying guards.
Several guards immediately stepped forward, intending to seize Froyent, but suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps from the direction of the training grounds, and more than thirty police officers quickly ran out in formation.
The leading officer gave a series of commands, and the thirty-plus officers quickly spread out, forming two lines and aiming their rifles at Bessonval.
Bessonval’s face stiffened. He believed even the police director would show respect when meeting him, yet a mere officer from a police academy dared to point a gun at him.
"You! You will regret your actions today!" Bessonval snorted coldly, pulling on his reins and hurriedly leading his men away.
Joseph paid little attention to this small incident. After all, the police academy technically belonged to the City Hall, and Bessonval wouldn’t dare do anything drastic here.
...
Northeast France, Lorraine Province.
Governor Marquis de Latour looked over the documents in his hand and frowned, asking his assistant, "Charlie, isn't this the order I sent to Maurice the day before yesterday?"
"Oh, my lord, it’s here." The assistant hurriedly pointed to a line of small text, "Viscount Lenifere thinks there may be a conflict with the conscription decree from two years ago, so he asked you to confirm."
Latour furrowed his brows again. "Is there a conflict?"
"Ah, I believe there shouldn't be…"
Latour nodded, picking up his pen to sign the document. Just as he was about to hand it to his assistant, an official hurriedly entered the office, bowing and saying, "My lord Marquis, a document just arrived from Versailles."
"The contents?"
"It seems they want you to immediately send someone to count the potatoes and coordinate the shipping."
Latour took the document, glanced at it, and said in surprise, "Where are these potatoes coming from? Maurice just sent me back the purchase order for potatoes."
The official replied, "My lord, it seems Viscount Valeran’s people have been buying them. Oh, his people arrived around noon and are waiting outside."
Latour instructed that Valeran’s men be brought in. After understanding the situation, he learned that Valeran, at someone’s request, had been purchasing potatoes from various regions for the past five days. Now, more than a million pounds had been accumulated at the docks, waiting to be counted and shipped.
Latour quickly instructed someone to draft documents, verify the details, sign them, and send them to the relevant gubernatorial deputy.
Afterwards, he drafted another report to Versailles, informing them of the changes in orders and the involvement of merchants, which had led to the termination of previous arrangements.
Valeran’s men, having received instructions from their master, urged the officials and followed them all the way to the gubernatorial deputy…
According to the current administrative procedures in France, the primary responsibility of the governor was to transfer and sign documents, delivering the orders from Versailles to the local deputy governors.
The deputy governors were to verify the documents. If they had issues, they would send them back for re-signing. If no issues were found, they would confirm the local officials responsible for the matter, who would then request funding and arrange for the specific actions to be carried out.
Of course, if the local officials had any doubts, they would send the documents back for further clarification…
Following the administrative efficiency in Lorraine Province, it was clear that they had only just reached halfway through the first step, and it would take at least another four or five days before the potato procurement could begin. Meanwhile, the merchant friend of Mirabeau had already collected over a million pounds of potatoes, and more were on their way by land transport.
As for the transport convoys and ships, they were arranged by Mirabeau’s friends, or else the governor would have had to slowly organize the necessary vehicles and vessels himself.
However, merely dispatching officials to count the potatoes had taken a full three days—this was something merchants could never do. Without official signatures, they wouldn't be able to receive the funds to purchase the potatoes.
Once the over a million pounds of potatoes were finally counted and shipped, another day passed.
At this point, with only 20 days left until the usual spring planting season in France, it was almost certain that the southernmost provinces wouldn’t be able to plant potatoes in time.
The first batch of ships filled with potatoes set sail along the Aune River towards Bordeaux, which was farther away.
Table of content - Next Chapter >>>
