The Fox of France - Chapter 245 (Patreon)

Chapter 245: Chronicles of France (Part 2)

Regarding the merchant's statement, that "the town's workers are working harder than before, but at least they have bread to eat," Félix didn't find anything wrong with it. Because Félix wasn't a time traveler, in his view, working hard and then barely making a living was just the normal course of life. It was even God's will.

"God said: 'You will toil for your entire life to make a living.' This is our destiny," Félix thought, and his fondness for France actually increased.

That afternoon, the stagecoach stopped in an unknown small town for a rest. Everyone disembarked and took shelter in the town's only inn, which also doubled as a tavern.

As soon as they got off the stagecoach, the inn's waiter tended to the horses. The stagecoach driver greeted the innkeeper and casually took a bottle of wine from the counter.

Félix knew that the stagecoach stopping in such a small town was likely due to some cooperation between the driver and the innkeeper. This situation was quite common even in England.

The innkeeper handed them a register to record the travelers and examine their identification documents. This practice was also seen in England, so Félix didn't find it strange. He presented the identity certificate issued by the French Embassy in the UK and signed his name in the register. Then the innkeeper went inside to fetch them dinner bread.

As the sun was just beginning to dip in the west, a faint haze rose over the distant fields. In the twilight, Félix saw a few militiamen walking along a path heading out of the town.

"Why, is it not peaceful here? The fact that these militiamen are patrolling so late in the evening suggests otherwise," Félix asked the innkeeper, who was bringing him bread.

"It's peaceful, for the most part. It's just that there have been more petty thieves around lately," the innkeeper replied. "Over there, we have a hydroelectric power station, and the irrigation of our local fields relies on it. With winter now, the water level is low, and the power station is not operating much. But there's quite a bit of valuable copper inside it. Copper is particularly precious these days. So some folks, looking for easy gains, sneak in at night to steal copper. Our nearby farmland depends on that power station, and these rascals are putting it at risk. It's a shame we're not in an era of the guillotine; otherwise, these thieves would be in trouble."

This talk made Félix, who had a history as a thief, somewhat uncomfortable. So he asked, "Why are these people resorting to theft? Is it because they can't make a living for some reason?"

"Oh, sir, you're quite a kind-hearted person," the innkeeper said. "If we're talking about earlier years, that's a different story. Before the revolution, the common folk couldn't even survive. The meager crops they managed to grow were all taken away by the nobles and clergy. People who tilled the land themselves were starving. Back then, many people took desperate measures to avoid starvation.

After the revolution, things got even worse for a while. To counter foreign kings and their armies, a large number of young men were conscripted into the army, leading to vast areas of farmland lying fallow due to a lack of labor. Food became scarce. To feed all those soldiers, the government heavily requisitioned food..."

"Don't they pay for it?" Félix asked.

"They pay with vouchers. But can you consider vouchers as money?" the innkeeper said. "So, during that time, people's lives got progressively worse. Many even wished for the return of the nobles. In those days, even those who rebelled against the aristocracy did it out of necessity.

But those times are long gone. Since the establishment of the Consulate, after General Bonaparte defeated the foreign kings, the army started to recover, and the young men returned to farming. They also brought back real money. Taxes were reduced, and people's lives gradually improved. Plus, with water pumps, as long as you work diligently, you won't starve. Even if you don't own land, you can find a way to make a living in the city. So, in this situation, when people are still resorting to thieving, even stealing copper from the power station, don't you think these scoundrels should be dealt with?"

"It's not ideal, but it's better to reform and educate them," Félix said. "After all, even bad people can change for the better. Minds are not like grass; once cut, they won't grow back."

"Haha, you're making a good point," the innkeeper replied, not particularly firm in his views.

The stagecoach continued its journey for two more days and finally arrived in Paris on the third day.

Jacques Goulong gave Félix a letter of introduction. When he reached Paris, he could directly take it to the Ministry of Truth. The Ministry's personnel would receive him and provide assistance, arranging for him to receive specialized knowledge and skills training in Turin.

However, Félix wasn't planning to report to the Ministry of Truth immediately. He didn't completely trust the Ministry. His brother, Jacques Goulong, who served at the Ministry, once described the department to him in the following way:

"The Ministry of Truth generally doesn't lie, but you must understand that when it's necessary to mislead others, the truth is more effective than a lie." To reinforce his point, Jacques Goulong cited various examples from the Ministry's flagship, "Science of Truth," during the Battle of Verdun. Finally, he said, "See, from start to finish, 'Science of Truth' never told a single lie. However, it still managed to deceive the English, the Prussians, and those aristocratic royalists. Well, the Ministry of Truth is the best at such tricks."

So, in Félix's view, the "Ministry of Truth" was essentially the Department of Deception. It might need an additional adjective, "truth-telling," before the term "deception" to describe it more accurately.

In order to avoid being deceived by those skilled truth-telling tricksters, Félix always considered himself quite vigilant. He believed that regular con artists couldn't fool him. However, after hearing the example Jacques Goulong had shared, Félix felt that if he were a general from England, Prussia, or a royalist leader at that time, he'd most likely fall for the same tricks. This made him somewhat apprehensive about the "Ministry of Truth."

Because of this, Félix decided not to report to the Ministry of Truth right away. Instead, he opted to explore Paris on his own, seeing it with his own eyes before potentially being misled by the Ministry.

So, Félix first found accommodation in the largest slum district of Paris, the Saint-Antoine district. Just like on the road, he had to show his identification and fill out forms. Félix naturally complied. If he were in England, he would have been more cautious, but in France, he had no criminal record, wasn't a fugitive, and possessed official, completely legitimate credentials. Therefore, Félix confidently displayed his documents and signed his name in the register.

The next day, even before dawn, Félix was awakened by the commotion outside.

"It should be time for the workers to start their shifts," Félix, residing in the working-class district, didn't even need to open his eyes to know what the ruckus was about. The factory workers were about to begin their work.

Félix got up, dressed, and went outside.

Though it was still not fully light outside, the Saint-Antoine district was already bustling. During the Robespierre era, the French established several saltpetre refineries in this area. Later, after Napoleon achieved significant victories and opened up trade routes, the French no longer needed to extract saltpetre through inefficient and expensive means. These refineries were then sold off to the military-industrial complex at a low price, consolidated, and became France's largest arms factory. After peace was achieved, these factories began to produce other things, such as various farming tools and household items. With relatively inexpensive iron and steel produced by the Lorraine Steel Company, these factories continued to thrive.

Félix noticed that the workers preparing for their shifts didn't look as healthy as the farmers he had seen in the countryside. However, compared to the workers in England, these people appeared to be in much better condition. Additionally, he observed something different from England even in the Saint-Antoine district: police officers patrolling the streets.

There was still some time before the factory opened, so everyone took the opportunity to have a quick meal. Félix walked over and noticed that the workers were eating the same black bread, seemingly mixed with various other ingredients. However, the portions were larger than what the workers in England ate, and there were hardly any children among them.

This discovery raised Félix's opinion of France once more.

At that moment, a police officer arrived at the inn where Félix was staying and inspected the guest register.

"An Englishman staying here?" The police officer immediately noticed the entry about Félix. He then summoned the innkeeper and questioned him thoroughly, instructing the innkeeper to act as if nothing was amiss.

"Officer, do you think this Englishman might be a technical thief here to steal our secrets?" The innkeeper inquired. In the recent past, the police had arrested quite a few such thieves—some from England, Austria, and others coming from French allies like Spain, Northern Italy, and the Rhine Confederation. Of course, the majority were former employees of other French enterprises.

"I don't know, maybe, maybe not. Anyway, keep an eye on him. But... if he really is... he's just registered his own nationality and didn't even bother to create fake identification. He's most likely an inept thief," the police officer chuckled.

Even if this "suspicious individual" was most likely not a thief, at most, he was just an "inept thief." According to the regulations, the incident still needed to be reported.

"Well, where did that Englishman go?" the police officer inquired.

"He just left a moment ago, but his belongings are still here. He's probably going to return," the innkeeper replied.

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