From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

1770, the first day of September

In the afternoon, the sun shines brightly.

As the continuous gunshots rang out, wisps of blue-black gunpowder smoke slowly rose from the training ground on the outskirts of Figari, dyeing a large expanse of pure light blue sky into a hazy gray-black.

This training ground was originally a large piece of lush green grassland, but under the trampling of more than 10,000 soldiers day and night for more than ten days, it has long been turned into a bare sandy land.

As usual, Master Justin was accompanied by Sir Robert to observe the training scene of these recruits. Most of the landowners who stood on the same front as Master Justin were also present.

"If you ask me, these mud-legged guys have made some progress."

Sir Robert was still wearing the black gentleman's uniform, crossed his legs, narrowed his eyes and looked down at the army formation not far away, and whispered to Master Justin:

"At least their formation is much more orderly, which is a bit of progress. I remember that last week their formation was almost as arranged as a scattered formation."

After receiving the compliment, Mr. Justin scratched his head and smiled flatteringly:

"That's not to say that we can't do without your help. Without the professional instructors you brought, we wouldn't be able to do anything. Hehehehe, I can't even load a musket now. I bet no other master can do it either. Yes, let alone let us practice our formation and tactics."

Sir Robert curled his lips slightly and waved his hands with a half-smile:

"No need to say thank you, friend, this is just a necessary investment, as long as you still remember our agreement."

"Of course, of course, of course I remember."

Mr. Justin nodded repeatedly like a chicken pecking at rice, and took the initiative to repeat the agreement:

"We will raise an army to resist Bonaparte's attack, accept your funding while accumulating strength, and when the time is right, we will drive the damn Bonaparte out of Ajaccio, establish our own government, and then...hehehehe... "

Having said this, Master Justin couldn't help lowering his voice, and despite Sir Robert's disgusted expression, he leaned into his ear and whispered:

"It's time to repay your kindness."

"I believe you will, my friend." Sir Robert slowly took out his silk handkerchief and wiped his face, nodding.

The two continued to watch and supervise the lively training on the field, watching the linear phalanxes advance and retreat under the command of the foreign instructors, loading and shooting.

Just as the two of them were sighing that everything was proceeding in an orderly manner, a small commotion suddenly occurred on the field.

I saw that a certain phalanx suddenly stopped during the march, and several soldiers fainted on the ground without warning, which immediately disrupted the progress of the entire array.

Even the soldiers in the square formations nearby were startled. These serf conscripts, who were already undisciplined, immediately gathered around to see what was going on.

"Damn it! Get back to your places, idiots!"

It took the foreign instructors a while to curse and disperse the crowd of onlookers, but the neat square formations they had just now turned into a pile of scattered sand, and they did not recover for a long time.

"Um?"

Master Justin frowned. Although he noticed the small commotion on the field, he was too far away to see clearly, so he sent a landowner beside him to find out the situation.

After a while, the landowner trotted back, panting while reporting:

"Mr. Justin, it seems that several soldiers suffered from heatstroke and dehydration. The instructors said that dozens of soldiers have fainted because of this today."

"Heatstroke?" Mr. Justin couldn't help but smacked his lips and looked up at the scorching sun high in the sky.

Although it is already September, the air is still very dull, like a big steamer.

The afternoon sun was even more scorching, and even these gentlemen wearing cool silk robes couldn't help sweating.

As for the serf conscripts on the field, long-term malnutrition and hunger have already made their physical fitness very worrying. In addition, they have to wear sweat-tight coarse cloth military uniforms for high-intensity training activities. Heatstroke and dehydration are simply a serious problem. Something that makes sense.

What's more, this empty training ground doesn't even have a shady area to avoid the sun.

Even those soldiers who did not faint, most of them were dizzy at the moment, holding on in the array in a daze, silently enduring the burning of the sun.

"The instructors suggested that we suspend the training and wait until sunset before continuing in the evening, saying that they also need to rest when encountering such weather in their home country."

The landowner who went to inquire about the situation glanced at Master Justin and relayed the instructors' suggestions to him.

"What? Suspend training?" After hearing this, Mr. Justin's eyebrows suddenly twisted into a ball and he exclaimed:

"How is this possible? There is another group of soldiers to be trained in the evening. We must not relax."

The landlord wiped the sweat from his forehead and said hesitantly:

"But... the condition of the soldiers is indeed very bad. I saw that some of them are so hot that they don't know what to do. People are complaining everywhere... Maybe it would be much better to postpone the training process?"

Many landlords nodded in approval. Even they themselves were dizzy from the sun, let alone the soldiers on the field.

However, Mr. Justin shook his head decisively twice and said seriously:

"Brother, we don't have much time. Haven't you heard about Propriano?"

The landowner was stunned for a moment, then nodded heavily.

Two days ago, everything that happened in the town of Propriano had already reached the town of Figari. Naturally, the southern landowners would not be unaware of this matter:

Laurence Bonaparte forcefully used the army to imprison the big landowners in the towns, replaced the local alderman, expropriated all the land and redistributed it to the lowly serfs.

The big landowners are still being imprisoned, and their lives are uncertain. As for the small and medium-sized landowners, they either had their land and property confiscated and were treated like ordinary farmers, or they urgently packed their belongings and fled south overnight with their families and children.

In just the past few days, the southern landowners have seen no less than twenty unkempt landowners coming to seek refuge with Master Justin.

Now, when Master Justin mentioned this matter, the expressions of everyone present immediately became solemn. If the war fails, these people will not even have room to escape.

Mr. Justin glanced at everyone's expressions proudly, and was secretly happy:

"Well, I would also like to thank that Bonaparte. If it hadn't been for what he did in Propriano, it would not have been so easy for me to convince the public."

In Master Justin's opinion, what Lawrence did in Propriano was a complete fool's errand.

Originally, he was very worried that Lawrence would adopt a soft policy towards the landowners in Propriano and divide the southern landowner group by lavishly rewarding local dignitaries.

After all, the southern landowners were not monolithic in the first place, and a considerable number of them still had deep concerns about starting a rebellion. They still fantasized about being able to exchange part of their property to Governor Bonaparte in exchange for a luxurious life for the rest of their lives.

But now, after witnessing the embarrassment of the fleeing landowners, no one has any illusions that they can escape at the hands of Bonaparte.

Although the current southern landlord group cannot be said to be united, everyone can be regarded as having a common goal of living and dying together. .

Master Justin naturally wants to see this situation. After all, the greater the external pressure, the more united the group will be, and the prestige and power of his leader will become stronger.

After capturing Ajaccio, his proportion of power in the new Corsican government will undoubtedly increase.

No wonder Master Justin was ecstatic for a long time after learning what happened to Propriano.

"Everyone, I believe everyone understands the current situation."

Seeing that everyone was silent and serious, Master Justin couldn't help but said with satisfaction:

"Bonaparte's army will soon enter our land. At this critical juncture, not a single second can be wasted, and the training must continue. It's okay for those mud-legged people to suffer a little, anyway, from now on Since their ancestors, they have already shouldered the obligation to serve us. Come on, tell the instructors to straighten up the order and continue the training!"

Everyone looked at each other in confusion, and after sighing slightly, they had no choice but to obey Master Justin's instructions.

…

It wasn't until sunset, when another batch of troops arrived at the training ground, that these soldiers, who had been roasting for five hours in the hot summer, ended today's training schedule and returned like walking zombies. In a shabby barracks.

"Ahhh! Damn it."

As soon as he returned to the barracks, a conscript couldn't stop shouting:

"Look, my arms have been peeled off by the sun. Hissing, it hurts like hell."

His limbs were as thin as sticks, and he had a pointed mouth and monkey cheeks. The other conscripts casually nicknamed him "Skinny Monkey."

The soldiers looked at the thin monkey's arm and saw that the originally dark and thin arm was covered with layers of pale white dead skin, as if the skin of the entire arm could be peeled off with just a gentle rub.

"Stop barking, thin monkey, who the hell isn't?"

A soldier shook his head helplessly and showed his sunburned skin in front of everyone.

"Me too!"

"Yes, look at what I've worn here!"

"His grandma's, as if we haven't suffered enough."

"That's right, it's okay for you people from other places. I'm a local farmer. After training during the day, I have to go back to the fields at night. Otherwise, who will do the farm work!"

"Damn it, do you think we people from other places will feel better? We have joined the army, but we are not exempt from taxes this year. The master is not sure. If we have to pay taxes this year..."

"His grandma pays your mother's tax, and the wheat will rot in the ground. What should I pay? Cut off my head and take it away!"

"That's right!"

…

The soldiers in the barracks opened their clothes one after another, showing each other the scars caused by intense training, and cursed their masters for their inhumane oppression.

For these serfs, if they are just tired from training and suffer a little, that's okay. After all, they have suffered all their lives.

What was most difficult for them to accept was that the landowners had no intention of tax reduction or exemption for the serfs who had been conscripted into the army.

You know, in order to facilitate the collection of taxes, the landowners would directly set a fixed amount for each serf.

If the weather is good this year and the harvest is good, then the serfs can be lucky enough to keep excess grain; however, if there is a famine this year and the harvest is poor, then the serfs will have to find ways to collect the tax.

Now it is already September, and it won't be long before the autumn harvest season. However, these serfs are still practicing day after day in the army and have no time to take care of the autumn harvest.

If the acres of wheat rot in the fields, not to mention how this year's taxes will be paid, it means that there will be no solution for the entire year of food next year.

For a time, the huge barracks was filled with the complaining shouts of the soldiers.

The thin monkey looked at the complaining people while stroking his arms, seeming to be thinking and hesitating about something.

Suddenly, his expression condensed, and then he shouted, which immediately attracted the attention of the soldiers:

"Hey! Guys!"

The barracks instantly became quiet, and the soldiers looked at the thin monkey in confusion:

"What's wrong? What's your name?"

"Ahem..."

The thin monkey pretended to be serious and coughed twice. Seeing that everyone was a little impatient, he quickly said:

"Did you hear about Propriano?"

Upon hearing this place name, the soldiers immediately frowned and looked at each other with concern, but no one spoke first.

Although rumors about Propriano have been circulating every day recently, the soldiers are still not sure what is going on in this northern town.

What's more, the foreign instructors and landowners have strictly prohibited the soldiers from discussing anything about Propriano. It is said that violators have been dragged out and shot, and even his family members have not been spared.

Seeing that no one took the initiative to speak, Shouhou stood up and closed the wood door at the door, lowering his voice:

"I have a cousin over there. He asked someone to send me a letter yesterday..."

With that said, Shouhou walked to his bed and took out a crumpled paper ball from the gap of the bed board under everyone's surprised gaze.

He carefully unfolded the paper ball, while paying attention to the movement at the door. After confirming that the foreign instructors and landowners were not nearby, the thin monkey dared to read the content of the letter in a low voice:

"Dear brother, I haven't contacted you for a long time. I don't know how you are doing in Figari. I heard that it is very uneasy there, so I want to bring you to Propriano to live together.

You don't have to worry about your livelihood after you get here, because I'm going to tell you something you will never believe - your brother is no longer a serf, to be exact, the entire Propriano There are no serfs left.

I am still cultivating the land to the west of the village, which is the place where we used to play when we were children. You may not believe it, but that land no longer belongs to any landlord, and all the harvest from that field will belong to me. The only thing they have to do is pay less than 20% of their crops to the government.

The landowners here have disappeared without a trace. Those high-rise buildings and compounds are now empty. We can do whatever we want without fear of being whipped. We worked in the fields during the day and got together to sing and dance at night. This was a life that we had never had before.

Nowadays, people in the towns like to call themselves freedmen, and I also like this title.

All this was brought about by Governor Bonaparte. He and his army are heading south today, and I hear he's going to make Figari like Propriano, so maybe soon you too will be able to live like me.

Of course, in order to enjoy a new life as soon as possible, I still hope that you can return to Propriano. You can easily obtain household registration here and then be allocated a piece of farmland of your own.

Hope you are well, love you brother.

…”