From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

At the same time, on the streets of Turin, several gentlemen and ladies walking with umbrellas suddenly noticed something strange in the city.

I don’t know since when, a layer of water nearly half a foot deep has accumulated on the street, completely soaking their boots and trouser legs. This has never happened in Turin in previous years.

The dim yellow water exudes an unbearable pungent odor, and countless rat corpses and rotten impurities float on it. Obviously, these stagnant waters are backflowing from the sewers.

The torrential rain washed the city streets, bringing all the dirt and filth into the water. The turbid and dim water surface looked even more disgusting than the cesspool in the country farmhouse.

A graceful lady screamed and lifted her skirt. She simply couldn’t accept such dirty and smelly water staining her precious clothes:

"My God, what happened!"

"There must be something wrong with the city's sewer system." Someone immediately echoed.

"Damn it! We spend so much tax money on repairs every year, but there is still such a problem. I think the person in charge of the project should be shot!"

"Alas, who made me make so much money here?"

"Wait until the rain is lighter before leaving. The accumulated water will naturally go down after the rain stops."

Several pedestrians crowded in a small pavilion on the roadside, chatting and waiting for the annoying heavy rain to fade away.

However, an hour later, these citizens were horrified to find that not only did the downpour show no sign of stopping, but even the accumulated water on the ground was rising at a speed visible to the naked eye.

In just one hour, the water level, which was only half a foot deep just now, can now completely cover the calf, making it difficult to walk.

Everyone stared at the city streets in front of them, which were like a vast ocean, and they couldn't say anything for a long time.

The shop owners on both sides of the street hurriedly hung up signs to stop business and sealed the doors with wooden boards; the hitching posts on the road were almost completely submerged by the water, and only the round heads at the tips could be barely seen.

The city was in chaos, and people were crying and shouting everywhere.

Countless residential houses were filled with dirty and turbid sewage. Middle-class citizens were panicking to rescue the storage in their basements, while homeless poor people collapsed and yelled, watching their only shacks being washed away by the wind and floods.

Crimes were committed in every corner of the city, and the greedy eyes of robbers and thieves were watching every poor person with bulging pockets and displaced.

In the lower-lying western part of the city, the situation was even worse.

The deepest water had risen to the waist, and even children who had been separated from their parents had drowned in this vast ocean.

Everywhere, you can see citizens with their families, displaced, and all their belongings walking on the streets in a daze, not knowing where to go. Their homes were either flooded or were already crumbling under the heavy rain and floods.

The bureaucrats and police in the city were in a state of panic, but they had no idea what to do. In their lives, they had never seen such a violent rainstorm and flood.

The bureaucrats wanted to open the sewers to release the flood, but they found that the boundless flood was pouring out of the sewers, and countless water columns were pouring into the city from the damaged parts of the city walls.

What should be done next? Will the water level continue to rise? Should the troops stationed in the bastion take action? No one could give a definite answer.

It was a mess, and everything was in a mess.

At this moment, nearly 200,000 people in Turin had only one question in their minds:

What happened? ! Is this really just a problem with the city sewers? !

In the Royal Palace of Turin, there was only a peaceful life.

The game in the garden lasted for more than three hours. The general and the king had tied 3-3. The two sides were fighting fiercely in the final decisive game. Even the royal band in the garden changed the music to an exciting march.

It is not known whether the King is superior in skills or the trusted general is showing weakness, but Carlo Emmanuele III has already gained a slight advantage in this decisive game.

The trusted general grabbed a handful of macarons and threw them into his mouth like chewing peanuts. Every time the King made a move, he would say a compliment without repeating:

"This King and Rook Castling is so brilliant, Your Majesty. I don't think those so-called masters can make this move."

"Hmph."

Carlo Emmanuele III's energy was all on the chessboard in front of him. As a competitive king, he must win even a friendly match with his subordinates.

While the two sides were fighting in the chess game, a courtier walked into the garden cautiously, patiently waiting for the king to finish a move before whispering:

"Your Majesty, General, the army's quartermaster general wants to see you, he said he has something important to report."

Carlo Emmanuel III, whose thoughts were interrupted, was a little unhappy:

"Quartermaster general? That colonel, what does he want?"

The trusted general next to him was even more unhappy, and was very annoyed that this subordinate had ruined his good thing with the king at this time:

"I think he is going to complain again. He has been telling me all day that the food in the hands of the citizens cannot be collected, and that the rationing system has caused the citizens to complain. Humph, what a coward."

In order to maximize the duration of Turin's resistance, Carlo Emanuele III only gave the main guidelines for implementing the rationing system, but the specific implementation was naturally the responsibility of the general.

The methods of the trusted general were also extremely simple and crude. He directly ordered the General Quartermaster to send armed grain requisition officers to conduct house-to-house searches and collections.

Of course, no one can say whether these grain collectors will collect other things in the name of protecting the country and enrich their own pockets.

As for whether these grain collectors will go to the homes of powerful nobles and wealthy families, it is even more uncertain.

Moreover, it is easy to collect grain, but it is difficult to distribute it. A middle-class citizen handed over all 300 pounds of grain storage in his basement to the army. As a result, a family of five could only receive four pieces of bread and a small can every day. Black beans, this is also very common.

"Yeah."

Carlo Emanuele III frowned slightly. He had been ruling the country and commanding the army for more than forty years. Of course he also knew how important the hearts and morale of the besieged city were:

"I think we can also relax the requirements of the rationing system a little and allow citizens to hold a small amount of food themselves. Anyway, the Corsican people will not force us to the point where we run out of ammunition and food."

The general waved his hands quickly, as if he was very confident in his work, and also wanted to show his ability in front of the king:

"No need. Your policy is undoubtedly good. At most, some people below have implemented it badly. There is no need to make any changes to the rationing system, Your Majesty."

His Majesty the King was naturally extremely pleased when he heard this. Just as he was about to praise him, the courtiers on the side suddenly interrupted:

"Your Majesty, the General Quartermaster does not seem to be here because of the rationing system, but because of the sudden floods inside and outside the city."

"flood?"

The general and the king both asked in unison, and Carlo Emanuele III even turned pale:

"What a flood, please speak clearly!"

The courtier hurriedly recounted what he had seen outside the palace. According to his description, the current city of Turin was already a panic-stricken mess. Such chaos had not appeared in the city in the previous fifty years. spirit.

"impossible!"

The general stood up with wide eyes, not even caring about the chessboard knocked over by his bloated belly, and loudly accused:

"Absolutely impossible. Such heavy rain has never happened before. How could it flood the entire city today! If you dare to confuse His Majesty again,"

"Enough!"

Carlo Emanuele III shouted angrily, and with just one sentence, the general shut up in an instant.

He held his forehead in thought, his face turned pale, and an irrelevant report he received two weeks ago kept flashing through his mind - the Corsican army was building large-scale fortifications south of Turin, and was suspected of re-erecting bridges in preparation for crossing the river.

South of Turin, large fortifications, and the unusually low water level of the Po River in recent days, the Corsican army launched a complete blockade of Turin today.

These clues were strung together and instantly exploded in the mind of Carlo Emanuele III.

He understood, he understood everything. Only then did Carlo Emanuele III realize in an instant that he and the entire kingdom should pay the price for underestimating the enemy.

That Laurence Bonaparte was by no means a person in name only.

When the king spoke again, his voice was no longer as majestic as before:

"Let the quartermaster come in, I want to see him now!"

The trusted general swallowed nervously, thinking that his recklessness had angered His Majesty the King, and he quickly leaned down to pick up the scattered chess pieces:

"Your Majesty, there is no need to worry. This is just some alarmist talk. We should continue the chess game just now."

Carlo Emanuele III suddenly became so angry that he almost fainted. He grabbed a handful of chess pieces and threw them directly at the general's face:

"You stupid pig! Don't you understand? This is done by the Corsicans. They are going to flood Turin! How cruel and unscrupulous! Why don't you go back to your post!"

"Yes, yes! Your Majesty, I'm going right now, I'm going right now!"

The general covered his eyes with severe pain, but he didn't dare to scream out at all, and hurriedly retreated from the back garden with his body hunched over.

The Chief of Munitions walked in and just passed by the general. Seeing his own officials in such embarrassment, the already ashen-faced Chief of Munitions looked even more ugly.

As soon as he came to the king, he knelt down directly, not even daring to raise his head, and his lips kept trembling:

"Your Majesty"

"What happened in Turin?!" Carlo Emanuele III asked sharply.

"The Corsicans surrounded and blockaded Turin in the early morning, and then the water level of the Slavic River began to rise wildly. It was not because of the heavy rain. No heavy rain could make the water level rise to that level. You also know that the Slavic River and the The Turin moat is directly connected, so the water level of the moat has directly overflowed the embankment. Now not only the city, but also the suburbs outside the city have become a floodplain. If this continues, Turin and its surroundings will become a vast ocean! "

Carlo Emanuele III listened coldly, with veins popping up on his forehead. He could hardly restrain his anger. How could he not know how much damage this flood would bring to the city of Turin.

The results of ten years of hard work by a wise king may not be worth the losses caused by this flood.

After hearing the cause and effect of all this, Carlo Emanuele III suddenly asked:

"You seem to have something important to say?"

The quartermaster-in-chief was so eager to come to see him. Naturally, he was not here just to inform him. That was not his responsibility in the first place.

The quartermaster-in-chief was kneeling on the ground, his whole body trembling and speechless. He wanted to speak several times but was interrupted by himself. The expression on his face was like mourning.

It was not until Carlo Emanuele III became impatient that he reported in a low voice:

"The six warehouses used by our army to store food have all been affected by floods. A large amount of food has been affected by moisture. I am afraid it will soon rot and become moldy."

"What did you say?!"

"Your Majesty, I have sent people to rescue. However, the heavy rain outside has not stopped, and there is still water on the road. In the end, only a small part of the food was properly transferred to the southwest bastion for storage."

As soon as the Commander-in-Chief of Munitions finished speaking, Carlo Emanuele III instantly collapsed in the recliner.

Yes, he should have thought of it a long time ago. Since the Corsicans thought of a water attack, wouldn't their purpose be to completely destroy the logistical supplies of the defenders in the city.

Now it is no longer possible to urgently order Vittorio's troops in the south to return to defend Turin. The Corsicans have completely blocked Turin.

The old king closed his eyes tiredly. He never expected that his famous name in this life would be destroyed in his own hands in his later years.

The quartermaster general kneeling on the ground was shivering, waiting for disposal. The grain stored in the six granaries were collected from the citizens after layers of exploitation. Once the grain became damp and rotted, unless His Majesty the King decided to ask Cosi Marie Claire surrendered, otherwise a famine would have been doomed in Turin.

As the first person responsible, this one head is not even enough to bear all the blame.

"How long can the preserved food support the implementation of the rationing system?" Carlo Emanuele III asked in a low voice, he no longer had the energy to get angry.

"About a week."

Carlo Emanuele III sighed and ordered with difficulty:

"Reduce the daily quota per person to one-third of the original. You will take people to collect food from the citizens again, focusing on the middle class. Alas, the people will suffer a little more."

"But...!" The Director-General of Munitions widened his eyes and wanted to say something. Cutting the quota to one-third will undoubtedly arouse the anger of the citizens, especially if he is required to conduct another comprehensive levy. Those who have been displaced and have children behind will Where can citizens with girls have any surplus food? !

In his opinion, the only feasible way is to attack those wealthy aristocrats. The food wasted every day in their mansions and villas is enough to feed an unknown number of people.

But he didn't even need to say such a proposal. He himself knew how ridiculous it was. At this moment when the siege was not going to end, who would think that his bread basket was too heavy? How could His Majesty the King give this order? Take action against those princes.

"Do it immediately!"

Carlo Emanuele III did not give the General Quartermaster any room to refute. He waved his hand for him to leave directly. Then he stayed alone in the back garden, unable to say anything for a long time.

Even during the Austrian Succession War more than 20 years ago, when facing the invasion of 40,000 French-Spanish troops led by Prince Conti, Carlo Emanuele III was not so anxious and worried.

But this time, the old king's heart was swallowed up by a sea of ​​fear like never before:

Is Turin really going to be lost? !

In the afternoon, the wind was strong, the rain was pouring, and the thunder was rolling.

Lawrence and a group of officers, wearing oilskin raincoats, stationed their horses on a hilly highland on the outskirts of Turin, watching coldly as Turin in the rain gradually submerged in a flood.

The moat that was once regarded as the city's guardian by the citizens of Turin has now become a lingering nightmare surrounding the city.

The Corsican troops surrounding the city were not just watching the water from the other side. Under the coordinated command of Berthier, they were still piling the remaining wood and sandbags from the embankment on the flat surrounding terrain, forming a A series of small dykes completely locks the water of the Po River in the city of Turin.

The raging water of the Po River roared and poured into Turin through the Slat River. In just half a day, the entire city was already surrounded by a lake, and the boundaries of the lake were still expanding over time.

If by chance a traveler from afar stumbles into this place, he may think that he has arrived in Venice by mistake.

The impregnable Turin, in Lawrence's eyes at this moment, was nothing more than a lonely boat swaying in the wind and rain. (End of chapter)