- Location
- Internet
[X] Plan Hammer
La Chanson de la Victoire (The Song of Victory): La Petite Arpenteuse (Non, SV, you are a General of France in the Napoleonic War!)
- Thread starter Plausbius
- Start date
- Mature Alt. History
- Location
- Cambridge, UK
Ah, so the moratorium is on us voting, not on you counting up the votes. I misunderstood, sorry.
- Location
- Rapidly approaching your location.
- Pronouns
- Any/Morb
Reputation is mostly a measure of how you're seen by people in general. Positive reputation means a "good" image, where you're sparing enemies and generally a nice person. Negative reputation means an "evil" image, where you're more notorious and do heavy-handed stuff like shooting into a crowd to put down a rebellion. *cough* Napoleon *cough*
I'll mostly track Thérèse's, but others' will be updated when appropriate.
Yeah no problem, I only know about moratorium being a period after an update where people lay out plans before voting, since time zones can be different, and some discussion can be made so we know the general directions people want to go. I'll close the vote in... 48 hours, so 8pm EST on Thursday!
ThatGuyWithIdeas
Treize died for our sins
- Location
- Romania
[X] Plan Stay The Course
-[X] Defend
-[X] Keep All As Is
-[X] Status Quo
-[X] Defend
-[X] Keep All As Is
-[X] Status Quo
- Location
- Texas
[X] Plan Stay The Course
- Location
- Hawaii
@Plausitivity will de Lisle be writing a song about the Battle of Mayence? Presumably after the glorious victory of L'armee du Rhin? I'll work on a Severin post-battle short after I get done with work in a few hours.
- Location
- leiden (NL)
[x] Plan Hammer
Riding High on Victory (AvidFicReader)
- Location
- Hawaii
Riding High on Victory
The charge worked beautifully. I had seen it in their eyes, the Prussians thought they had won, only for us to come crashing into them. Triumph turned to shock, shock to panic, and panic to rout. It was all about the timing. The volley needed to be withheld until the last instant. Too soon, and the charge would not strike right. Too late, and they would have been upon us. Once we were among them, their precious discipline crumbled like ash in the wind. We chased the Prussians as far as we could and took potshots at those who fled, but a soldier who has abandoned his weapon and kit can easily outpace a soldier so encumbered. The Prussian wounded became our prisoners, though a great many we had no choice but to let expire. As I looked upon the killing ground south of Mayence, I saw the earth puckered by shellholes, earthen ramparts rent by cannonballs, and the dead strewn from the bridge to the eastern fields beyond the ramparts.
Even as I worked to rally the men, organizing the wounded for transport and arranging burial details, I searched, it seemed fruitlessly, for my bedamned hat. I had just gotten around to developing a liking for the godforsaken thing, with it's fancy embroidery and feather, only for the thing to be shot off my head! I had long ago lost the musket I had taken up in the initial defense of the ramparts, an errant cannonball had plucked it from my hands, and the brace of pistols had been discarded one by one as the Prussians had stormed the ramparts. My saber remained at hand; only in the last few minutes did my hand unclench enough to relax my grip on the saber. It serves just as well when directing the soldats. A deeply-bloodied officer's saber was an excellent motivational tool for the enlisted man.
Having finished my impromptu circuit of the battlefield, I returned to the bridge, to find the engineers had rigged up a rope and raft alongside the bridge, to allow them to affect repairs. They tell me that after inspection and minor repairs, the bridge will once again be serviceable by sometime tomorrow. Perhaps it was unwise to order the artillery to salvo the bridge if it looked to be in danger of falling into Prussian hands. It's too late for second-guesses, what's done is done. In any case, it would take far too long to ferry all the troops and wounded to the west bank, so we would have ourselves a bit of a triumphal march along the east bank before rejoining the rest of the army.
After taking a slug from my trusty hip flask, my foot unearths a familiar-looking remnant of a hat. having taken a musket ball through the center, then being trampled into the mud and blood by countless boots, it resembles less the hat it once was than a shapeless muddied lump. It seems one more for today's tally of casualties. Fare thee well, damned hat, I hardly knew thee. Turning back to my men, I order them into a marching column, able-bodied men first, then stretchers and travois bearing the wounded. Keep it together lads, the sawbones are on the far side of the river, and it'll be a bit of a walk. Victory was had today, at a steep price. Now who's up for some marching songs?
The charge worked beautifully. I had seen it in their eyes, the Prussians thought they had won, only for us to come crashing into them. Triumph turned to shock, shock to panic, and panic to rout. It was all about the timing. The volley needed to be withheld until the last instant. Too soon, and the charge would not strike right. Too late, and they would have been upon us. Once we were among them, their precious discipline crumbled like ash in the wind. We chased the Prussians as far as we could and took potshots at those who fled, but a soldier who has abandoned his weapon and kit can easily outpace a soldier so encumbered. The Prussian wounded became our prisoners, though a great many we had no choice but to let expire. As I looked upon the killing ground south of Mayence, I saw the earth puckered by shellholes, earthen ramparts rent by cannonballs, and the dead strewn from the bridge to the eastern fields beyond the ramparts.
Even as I worked to rally the men, organizing the wounded for transport and arranging burial details, I searched, it seemed fruitlessly, for my bedamned hat. I had just gotten around to developing a liking for the godforsaken thing, with it's fancy embroidery and feather, only for the thing to be shot off my head! I had long ago lost the musket I had taken up in the initial defense of the ramparts, an errant cannonball had plucked it from my hands, and the brace of pistols had been discarded one by one as the Prussians had stormed the ramparts. My saber remained at hand; only in the last few minutes did my hand unclench enough to relax my grip on the saber. It serves just as well when directing the soldats. A deeply-bloodied officer's saber was an excellent motivational tool for the enlisted man.
Having finished my impromptu circuit of the battlefield, I returned to the bridge, to find the engineers had rigged up a rope and raft alongside the bridge, to allow them to affect repairs. They tell me that after inspection and minor repairs, the bridge will once again be serviceable by sometime tomorrow. Perhaps it was unwise to order the artillery to salvo the bridge if it looked to be in danger of falling into Prussian hands. It's too late for second-guesses, what's done is done. In any case, it would take far too long to ferry all the troops and wounded to the west bank, so we would have ourselves a bit of a triumphal march along the east bank before rejoining the rest of the army.
After taking a slug from my trusty hip flask, my foot unearths a familiar-looking remnant of a hat. having taken a musket ball through the center, then being trampled into the mud and blood by countless boots, it resembles less the hat it once was than a shapeless muddied lump. It seems one more for today's tally of casualties. Fare thee well, damned hat, I hardly knew thee. Turning back to my men, I order them into a marching column, able-bodied men first, then stretchers and travois bearing the wounded. Keep it together lads, the sawbones are on the far side of the river, and it'll be a bit of a walk. Victory was had today, at a steep price. Now who's up for some marching songs?
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- Location
- Rapidly approaching your location.
- Pronouns
- Any/Morb
He probably would, being in the South to probably catch a glimpse of the assault and countercharge while directing cannon fire.
I don't write songs, so I wouldn't know how to go with that, though.
Introducing emotional attachment in a war story is a recipe for disaster, I tell you what
Have a +10, and maybe a new hat will come, I'm sure all the other officers know the importance of officer hats. I might unveil the secret hat club the officers are in, just to show it!
I've also updated Chaman's dialogue after he reports back from his raid on Day 1! Hopefully, it's more in the type of role he is in, without being too jarring.
Argidoll
And hast thou slain the Jabberwocky?
- Location
- Dreamland
Introducing emotional attachment in a war story is a recipe for disaster, I tell you what
Hey now, hats are important.
A real history book with pages and everything said:
The Death of Empress-Marshal Therese Aulclair (An Alternate Future) (Magoose)
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
The Death of Empress-Marshal Therese Aulclair (An Alternate Future)
You were dragged through the muddy field of the final battlefield that marked the end of an era.You knew as well as anyone else with a mind as great as yours.
Waterloo, a muddy plain with hills overlooking a flatlands, with two monstrous armies clashing for the fate of the world. Because one man, willed the world to listen to him. And the world was not ready for him.
It was almost poetic at this point, that a woman who started her career as a surveyor, had told him that this place was the best place to attack the enemy.
But you were wrong. It was a strange thing to think of now… But you had accepted that fact when the battle was over, and the Prussians had taken you prisoner.
The Grande Armée was shattered by the coalition forces, for a second time. The Prussians, not the British had finally broken the Old Guard of Napoleon, and your own Republican Guard.
Wellington of course would take the credit, that was something you knew when you met the man once, in London, when you had rescued Tallyrand from assassins. It was quite a predicament, and having to trust Arthur Weslly was not something you had ever thought you would do, under any circumstances.
But he helped you, believing you were another woman, Tallyrand's lover, and innocent to the politics that had plagued Europe, and it seemed Tallyrand had said something that shook the General to the core, both of beliefs and his own personal honor.
Your uniform from Robespierre, that gift from so long ago, was in tatters, the sleeves torn, the leggings ripped, holes from pistol shots covered much of the loose fabric.
Hardly befitting for a Marshal of the Grande Armée, but it was all you had now. That and you reputation.
The Prussian von Blucher looked at you and spat in your face. "Let me kill her."
Wesley nodded. "No." He replied, the order clear and the british soldiers pointed weapons at his men to be sure no one would kill you. "She is our prisoner, and she shall be treated as such."
"This whore has ravaged the German countryside under Napoleon's orders, killing thousands of men in battle." The Prussian replied. "He has ruined dozens of officers, professionally and personally with her tactics, both terrorizing the citizens and nobility alike."
Somehow you managed to smile. "Yes. Chamans was quite efficient at his job. But during the war, I could not control my men as I wanted… otherwise there would not have been such unnecessary deaths… The nobles I have no regret putting to the sword, I shall admit General. As for the officers, they should have learned from Brunswick's mistakes, and let their anger cloud their judgement. Their downfall was their own."
That earned you a punch into the face. "WHORE!"
The British soldiers pointed weapons at him, to keep him from attacking you further.
Arthur helped you to your feet. "My apologies."
"Thank you." You replied with your broken English.
You were escorted to the prisoner's tent, with the survivors of the Grande Armée.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You arrived in Paris with a fanfare of love and mourning. The entire city it seemed was pleading for your life, as you were brought towards the court of Louis XVIII, the recently returned Bourbon king of France.
Paris had changed since you first came to it as a young girl, now as a woman nearing fifty, you saw the grandeur as victory was gained, and it's fear, as you had returned in defeat.
The court was filled with many Austrian and Prussian nobles, and the survivors of the Purges by the Republican government almost thirty years ago now.
The Trial was a quick one. But you were not going to go down quietly.
"Gentleman of the Chamber of Peers of France." You started as you maintained the dignity of your rank, that of Marshal and Empress. It was quite a strange thing to think of, even after all those years of marriage. You had despised Napoleon when he took power and even threatened to kill him, deprive him of a general, and of his wife.
But he had helped bring true republicanism, not the anarchy of Robespierre to prominence. He had a prime minister, an elected Parliament, suffrage for women… even as he claimed to be emperor, he never gave into Tyranny.
There were moments yes… but you were there to remind him of his duty.
"The charges brought before me, are ludicrous. Treason: For my entire adult life, I have done nothing but serve the nation of France, in whatever shape, whatever form, whatever government, because I believed in France. I believed in many things in my life, as a youth I believed only the revolution could save Europe. As I grew older, it was my husband, Napoleon, and his reforms. Now I only see that France will always change, no matter who leads it. My only regret is that you do not believe the same." You stated. "That if you kill me, all you will prove is that none of you are loyal to France."
The chamber of Peers was moved. But nothing changed.
The vote was clear. There was no need to pressure them, no need to remind the world that you were a woman, a hero and a savior of France several times over.
Death was your sentence.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your last request was to write a letter to your Five children. They were far away, safe in Italy, with friends, allies, and family.
You remembered Brian and the Kingdom of Italy he had founded in the two years since he had taken the throne with Murat before Murat died.
The House of Auclair would rule Italy, as Brian ruled as king, with a parliament, as he so promised to give to the people of Italy, that much was agreed upon when Brian betrayed you and Napoleon when you returned from Elba.
You did not blame Brian for the betrayal of your trust, nor did Napoleon in the end.
He was saddened, but you told him that Brian now had a duty to Italy, not to him.
He would protect your children from the entire world if he had to… he owes you and Napoleon that much at least.
The men refused to follow the orders of the king and dismantled the guillotine.
"We shall give you the death you deserve, Marshal." the General replied. "Your orders Marshal!?"
You nodded to them and saw a crowd of soldiers, civilians, and citizens of France. They looked at you. It seemed the entire city came to watch you die.
"People of France. I have one final order to give as your Empress and your Marshal. Follow no god but the one in your heart, follow no man you do not believe in! But fight for France always! No matter her enemies, no matter your friends, no matter where destiny may lead you. The world is changing, so be ready, and change with it as well!" You shouted.
"Soldiers of France." you saluted to them. "Prepare a firing Squad! I am sentenced to death by France, and you shall carry it out."
The soldiers were surprised. "Marshal!" A soldier asked.
"Follow my order!" You screamed and the men, after hesitation, did the same. Their attention was on you, their weapons ready, to kill you.
"This is my final order to you, soldiers of France! You shall obey it faithfully, and without hesitation! When I give the order, you will shoot me in the heart! You shoot me and I will die! Soldier! FIRE!"
The muskets fired, without hesitation and slugs went through your chest.
You fell. And in a moment you would die.
But your final words would carry on for generations.
The Bourbons of France would die that day, and the Revolution would begin anew.
This time, it would be for good.
The people would rule, with no masters but themselves to guide them. They would struggle, they would fight, and they would fall.
But they would never bow to a King they themselves did not choose.
That was what you hoped for at least as you shut your eyes for the final time.
AN: Enjoy this omake of the "Mostly canon future" where Thérèse married Napoleon in his youth instead of Josephine, and where Thérèse had a knack for destroying Prussian armies.
Edit: So What do you think?
You were dragged through the muddy field of the final battlefield that marked the end of an era.You knew as well as anyone else with a mind as great as yours.
Waterloo, a muddy plain with hills overlooking a flatlands, with two monstrous armies clashing for the fate of the world. Because one man, willed the world to listen to him. And the world was not ready for him.
It was almost poetic at this point, that a woman who started her career as a surveyor, had told him that this place was the best place to attack the enemy.
But you were wrong. It was a strange thing to think of now… But you had accepted that fact when the battle was over, and the Prussians had taken you prisoner.
The Grande Armée was shattered by the coalition forces, for a second time. The Prussians, not the British had finally broken the Old Guard of Napoleon, and your own Republican Guard.
Wellington of course would take the credit, that was something you knew when you met the man once, in London, when you had rescued Tallyrand from assassins. It was quite a predicament, and having to trust Arthur Weslly was not something you had ever thought you would do, under any circumstances.
But he helped you, believing you were another woman, Tallyrand's lover, and innocent to the politics that had plagued Europe, and it seemed Tallyrand had said something that shook the General to the core, both of beliefs and his own personal honor.
Your uniform from Robespierre, that gift from so long ago, was in tatters, the sleeves torn, the leggings ripped, holes from pistol shots covered much of the loose fabric.
Hardly befitting for a Marshal of the Grande Armée, but it was all you had now. That and you reputation.
The Prussian von Blucher looked at you and spat in your face. "Let me kill her."
Wesley nodded. "No." He replied, the order clear and the british soldiers pointed weapons at his men to be sure no one would kill you. "She is our prisoner, and she shall be treated as such."
"This whore has ravaged the German countryside under Napoleon's orders, killing thousands of men in battle." The Prussian replied. "He has ruined dozens of officers, professionally and personally with her tactics, both terrorizing the citizens and nobility alike."
Somehow you managed to smile. "Yes. Chamans was quite efficient at his job. But during the war, I could not control my men as I wanted… otherwise there would not have been such unnecessary deaths… The nobles I have no regret putting to the sword, I shall admit General. As for the officers, they should have learned from Brunswick's mistakes, and let their anger cloud their judgement. Their downfall was their own."
That earned you a punch into the face. "WHORE!"
The British soldiers pointed weapons at him, to keep him from attacking you further.
Arthur helped you to your feet. "My apologies."
"Thank you." You replied with your broken English.
You were escorted to the prisoner's tent, with the survivors of the Grande Armée.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You arrived in Paris with a fanfare of love and mourning. The entire city it seemed was pleading for your life, as you were brought towards the court of Louis XVIII, the recently returned Bourbon king of France.
Paris had changed since you first came to it as a young girl, now as a woman nearing fifty, you saw the grandeur as victory was gained, and it's fear, as you had returned in defeat.
The court was filled with many Austrian and Prussian nobles, and the survivors of the Purges by the Republican government almost thirty years ago now.
The Trial was a quick one. But you were not going to go down quietly.
"Gentleman of the Chamber of Peers of France." You started as you maintained the dignity of your rank, that of Marshal and Empress. It was quite a strange thing to think of, even after all those years of marriage. You had despised Napoleon when he took power and even threatened to kill him, deprive him of a general, and of his wife.
But he had helped bring true republicanism, not the anarchy of Robespierre to prominence. He had a prime minister, an elected Parliament, suffrage for women… even as he claimed to be emperor, he never gave into Tyranny.
There were moments yes… but you were there to remind him of his duty.
"The charges brought before me, are ludicrous. Treason: For my entire adult life, I have done nothing but serve the nation of France, in whatever shape, whatever form, whatever government, because I believed in France. I believed in many things in my life, as a youth I believed only the revolution could save Europe. As I grew older, it was my husband, Napoleon, and his reforms. Now I only see that France will always change, no matter who leads it. My only regret is that you do not believe the same." You stated. "That if you kill me, all you will prove is that none of you are loyal to France."
The chamber of Peers was moved. But nothing changed.
The vote was clear. There was no need to pressure them, no need to remind the world that you were a woman, a hero and a savior of France several times over.
Death was your sentence.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your last request was to write a letter to your Five children. They were far away, safe in Italy, with friends, allies, and family.
You remembered Brian and the Kingdom of Italy he had founded in the two years since he had taken the throne with Murat before Murat died.
The House of Auclair would rule Italy, as Brian ruled as king, with a parliament, as he so promised to give to the people of Italy, that much was agreed upon when Brian betrayed you and Napoleon when you returned from Elba.
You did not blame Brian for the betrayal of your trust, nor did Napoleon in the end.
He was saddened, but you told him that Brian now had a duty to Italy, not to him.
He would protect your children from the entire world if he had to… he owes you and Napoleon that much at least.
My Dear Children: Napoleon, Jacques, Alexis, Angélique, Thérèse
When you receive this letter, I will be dead, and my body will be buried with my father, and his family, not in the grand tombs of France, or a mausoleum that Napoleon wished to build for our family, so that we may never be separated, even in death.
Your father has been exiled to St. Helana, but I was not allowed to join him. The Prussians in court and abroad made sure of that. Their anger and hatred fill their hearts and all they want is for a woman who caused them so much grief to die. To soothe their aching hearts and destroyed pride.
The people of France begged the king not to, but his anger at me is as strong as the Prussians. I represent your father, I represent the Republic of France… I represent France in a way. The mother who brought it into the modern world.
They want to break your father, the same as I broke those generals in the field. I am sure my death will destroy him, for that I am certain.
They cannot break me, my spirit, or my belief in France, so they must kill me instead.
You Uncle Brian will protect you, for that I know for certain, so do not fear death.
I wish for you not to weep for me when the news reaches you. I only ask that you do not seek revenge. There are far better and greater things to focus your life on, than that.
Promise me that and I shall watch over you in Heaven in whatever you do.
Live your life, long and true and we shall meet again.
Your loving mother-
Thérèse Auclair-Bonaparte
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When you receive this letter, I will be dead, and my body will be buried with my father, and his family, not in the grand tombs of France, or a mausoleum that Napoleon wished to build for our family, so that we may never be separated, even in death.
Your father has been exiled to St. Helana, but I was not allowed to join him. The Prussians in court and abroad made sure of that. Their anger and hatred fill their hearts and all they want is for a woman who caused them so much grief to die. To soothe their aching hearts and destroyed pride.
The people of France begged the king not to, but his anger at me is as strong as the Prussians. I represent your father, I represent the Republic of France… I represent France in a way. The mother who brought it into the modern world.
They want to break your father, the same as I broke those generals in the field. I am sure my death will destroy him, for that I am certain.
They cannot break me, my spirit, or my belief in France, so they must kill me instead.
You Uncle Brian will protect you, for that I know for certain, so do not fear death.
I wish for you not to weep for me when the news reaches you. I only ask that you do not seek revenge. There are far better and greater things to focus your life on, than that.
Promise me that and I shall watch over you in Heaven in whatever you do.
Live your life, long and true and we shall meet again.
Your loving mother-
Thérèse Auclair-Bonaparte
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The men refused to follow the orders of the king and dismantled the guillotine.
"We shall give you the death you deserve, Marshal." the General replied. "Your orders Marshal!?"
You nodded to them and saw a crowd of soldiers, civilians, and citizens of France. They looked at you. It seemed the entire city came to watch you die.
"People of France. I have one final order to give as your Empress and your Marshal. Follow no god but the one in your heart, follow no man you do not believe in! But fight for France always! No matter her enemies, no matter your friends, no matter where destiny may lead you. The world is changing, so be ready, and change with it as well!" You shouted.
"Soldiers of France." you saluted to them. "Prepare a firing Squad! I am sentenced to death by France, and you shall carry it out."
The soldiers were surprised. "Marshal!" A soldier asked.
"Follow my order!" You screamed and the men, after hesitation, did the same. Their attention was on you, their weapons ready, to kill you.
"This is my final order to you, soldiers of France! You shall obey it faithfully, and without hesitation! When I give the order, you will shoot me in the heart! You shoot me and I will die! Soldier! FIRE!"
The muskets fired, without hesitation and slugs went through your chest.
You fell. And in a moment you would die.
But your final words would carry on for generations.
The Bourbons of France would die that day, and the Revolution would begin anew.
This time, it would be for good.
The people would rule, with no masters but themselves to guide them. They would struggle, they would fight, and they would fall.
But they would never bow to a King they themselves did not choose.
That was what you hoped for at least as you shut your eyes for the final time.
AN: Enjoy this omake of the "Mostly canon future" where Thérèse married Napoleon in his youth instead of Josephine, and where Thérèse had a knack for destroying Prussian armies.
Edit: So What do you think?
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Kicker
A perfectionist with an inferiority complex.
- Location
- Malaysia
Now I have the image of Napoleon coming back home after the deciding to be emperor, only to see Therese standing there with a gun pointing at him.
Napoleon has to convince her while he walks slowly towards Therese. To believe in him to carry those ideals.
Not fully convinced, Therese points the gun to herself. Napoleon then admits he can't do it alone. That he needs her to be by his side as a guiding hand.
It ends with both of them embracing each other.
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Well, the idea behind that was, simple. Thérèse was still very much a republican and is loyal to France and considering France was about to go to shit if he tried to come back, she's ready to kill him.
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
This was just an exercise in writing, with the war and the world ending almost the same, (With a few big changes for the eagle-eyed reader to notice), and the entire story ending as it should be, a tragedy befitting of the greatest of epics.
Well, I was inspired by both Marshal Ney's execution and said Fuck that, I'm making Thérèse's death the most badass awe-inspiring, history-defining moment of the Revolution.
Let her death be the end of an entire Era of France, next to Napoleon's, and let it be the moment in history people will remember.
Not Waterloo, not Napoleon's Hundred Days, not even the Bourbon Restoration.
Let it be of the death of a Wife to an Emperor, A Marshal of France, A Woman General, the first in Western History, a mother and sister to kings, a commoner of France, a surveyor who rose to the very top of the World... Let her death be the final sentence of that chapter of History.
And let it be the First of the Age of France's Rebirth.
Wouldn't that be fitting enough?
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- Location
- The Colored Room
- Pronouns
- TheOne
You know, now that I've thought about it, "Emperor" doesn't necessarily have to be an explicitly monarchical title. (In the sense of a hereditary/semi hereditary government or executive)
In the context of a classically-oriented Enlightenment era politics, it's not insane that the idea of the "Emperor of the French" could take on a more Principate-esque/Republican/Primus Inter Pares function.
In our timeline, Napoleon modeled himself in the vein of an Enlightened Monarch, at least in the practicals. But if there's an assembly, a strong constitution, and enough thoroughly republican marshals around to protect the new order, I think that kind of executive position could work out.
So long as it's not hereditary and has some checks against it, it's indistinguishable from a strong presidency, honestly. Napoleon in this position would still be the undisputed leader, but it's more of a Paramount Leader situation than an Absolutist situation.
There are still institutional checks, but the government is unified enough in purpose that the function of the various parts of the state are able to act as one.
If the powers of the office are defined, the national assembly has enough weight to counter the executive if they truly feel the need, then I say that's a tolerable end-state for the revolution.
A popular, representative tyranny.
Just a thought.
I'd rather it not go that way at all, but if the Terror goes the way it did OTL, it might have to.
In the context of a classically-oriented Enlightenment era politics, it's not insane that the idea of the "Emperor of the French" could take on a more Principate-esque/Republican/Primus Inter Pares function.
In our timeline, Napoleon modeled himself in the vein of an Enlightened Monarch, at least in the practicals. But if there's an assembly, a strong constitution, and enough thoroughly republican marshals around to protect the new order, I think that kind of executive position could work out.
So long as it's not hereditary and has some checks against it, it's indistinguishable from a strong presidency, honestly. Napoleon in this position would still be the undisputed leader, but it's more of a Paramount Leader situation than an Absolutist situation.
There are still institutional checks, but the government is unified enough in purpose that the function of the various parts of the state are able to act as one.
If the powers of the office are defined, the national assembly has enough weight to counter the executive if they truly feel the need, then I say that's a tolerable end-state for the revolution.
A popular, representative tyranny.
Just a thought.
I'd rather it not go that way at all, but if the Terror goes the way it did OTL, it might have to.
That's all if Empereur is still used as the title. "Imperator" could work if they just lifted straight from the latin, it's not like Consul was French title when it was used either. Princeps could work in the same way as well, but that might not carry enough weight. Honestly it's all pedantic if the above arrangement is how it comes out the other end.
(I feel like John Adams debating presidential titles, ie. like a jackass)
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Theres just one problem with that line of thinking.
France during the time Napoleon rose to power in, was in desperate need of a dictator (Or at least a legislative body that knew what the hell they were doing more than two times a year) to sort out the house and not get a Burbon on the Throne because France was in chaos, hungry due to a famine, and bankrupt due to Louis' incompetence.
You can argue all you want about Napoleon seizing power because there was anarchy... but there was. Robespierre fucked everything up what with him going all "Everyone I don't like is an enemy of the State!" and fucking everything up.
While a nice dream, and something that is totally plausible, given Thérèse's fame and the potential to grow her influence in France by way of stunning military victories... and Napoleon kinda having the hots for her at this percise moment in time... there is a chance. Not a large one, but a chance.
Or the Terror getting worse, that is always something that could happen.
Rather debate now and not need them, then not having a god damn title to get everyone on your side.
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"...and I would do it all again in a heartbeat."
This is why we oppose the monarchy, so that we don't get uncreative naming conventi--
Oh. Spoke too soon.
Imagine making someone a martyr to punish them.
A more tragic ending would have been sending her to live the rest of her life on a rock on the opposite side of the world from both Napoleon and France, in the Pacific Ocean. Fading away into the waves as she tries in vain to return to all she lost and bled for.
...
Too tragic?
Hopefully the dice gods smile upon us and this can be avoided.
I love it! The men still listening to her last orders was touching. +1815 points for you.
Imagine a time when "dictator" meant one who was chosen by the Senate to rule with emergency powers in a time of need. Now, dictator means "evil power-hungry lunatic who abuses any and all powers".
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WTF? You can't just spoil that plot point, bruh!
Robespierre is totally a good guy, he's just got to be a little heavyhanded and sneaky about things because that's politics for you, yo! Those royalists need rooting out and all that, you know what I mean?
But yeah, Rob went off the deep end. Hopefully he doesn't this ti--
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- The Colored Room
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- TheOne
I was going to say that I don't see how, but that'd be a lie. Though I don't see how the Terreur can go on longer, or be harsher at the same time. It either burns itself out faster, or drags out the pain. Trying to do both just ends in a quicker reaction, no?
Righting the ship of state is vitally necessary in this situation, but that's a call for emergency powers. Those don't have to be permanent, or even codified. The job just has to get done.
Grabbing for titles and crowns in that situation is opportunism and beside the point.
It isn't justified outside of being able to present a suitable diplomatic face to the powers of Europe. (They're more willing to deal with a monarch than some peasant republic with nebulous leadership, I would think) And that's not a small thing when everyone is trying to invade you, but there's a principle being violated all the same.
I can try, but it's work. Tyrant didn't always mean what it does either. But, I'm trying to bring it back.
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
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- California USA
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Therein lies the problem. Codified and not permanent is all nice and good until the guy decides to say "fuck the rules" and seize power because he's got the army backing him up.
If the man you give the power to doesn't have the honor to step down when the crisis is over... they tend to become dictators and Monarchs.
Just look at what happened with Napoleon in OTL, or Ceaser and Augustus.
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Kicker
A perfectionist with an inferiority complex.
- Location
- Malaysia
You're horrible. Pass me some of that Angst juice.
Though you can also end the story with a bittersweet ending. Both Therese and Napoleon looking out at the sea everyday, hoping to one day meet each other again, only to have it fulfilled when they die at the same time and hear each other's voices.
Kind of like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl story but they'll only reunite in the end.
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Betrayed by the weather.
Betrayed by his countrymen.
Betrayed by his wife.
I'm starting to see a pattern here...
How was knowledge of cancer at the time? Would Napoleon have known about it killing him eventually?You're horrible. Pass me some of that Angst juice.
Though you can also end the story with a bittersweet ending. Both Therese and Napoleon looking out at the sea everyday, hoping to one day meet each other again, only to have it fulfilled when they die at the same time and hearing each other's voices.
Kind of like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl story but they'll only reunite in the end.
If so, some last words could be "I am doomed, like my father, to die of an unavoidable curse. I cannot promise that I will see you again after we are separated, Thérèse... though, let the waves carry my thoughts and yours, so that one day, this may all end well, and then, we shall be reunited."