Chapter 87: The Vote (Part 2)

With Paris preoccupied by the trial of the king, nobody had time to trouble Dumouriez for now. Even the dispatch of officials responsible for military supplies had been delayed. But Dumouriez sensed that trouble was brewing and that he needed to seize this last opportunity. Whether or not the king's trial would implicate him in the end, having more money on hand was always helpful. Take Tallerand, for instance; if he didn't have money, how could he possibly escape to England?

Adopting the mindset of "use your power or lose it," Dumouriez became more creative in his military procurement schemes, filling his coffers. However, this came at the expense of the soldiers under his command, as their supplies dwindled. Dumouriez deflected blame onto Paris, telling his troops that the folks there were too embroiled in infighting to tend to their needs, which is why they faced shortages. While this explanation temporarily pacified his soldiers, it inevitably led to a decline in their morale.

Besides the supply issues, another problem significantly contributed to low morale – the core of Dumouriez's army was the National Guard. Their high spirits had originally stemmed from a sense of duty to defend their homeland. They were local militias who had never intended to leave their homes; they only joined the army to save the nation. They had continuously defeated the Prussian-Austrian coalition, driving them out of the French borders. In the eyes of these National Guard soldiers, the homeland's crisis was resolved, so they believed they should return home. However, the government kept them abroad, battling the Austrians and Prussians. This situation further dampened their spirits.

Lack of supplies and a loss of a clear mission led to a sharp decline in morale for Dumouriez's army. Their once unyielding courage and determination faded away. And this army...

"Now we must prepare for defeat," Napoleon told Joseph. "You know, our army is quite lacking in military quality, to the point that aside from morale, we're almost empty-handed. Now that even morale is gone, losing battles should come as no surprise. Joseph, I'm about to lead us into Austrian Netherlands. I think we'll have a tough time there. When we're in battle, you should be cautious and not recklessly charge into the front lines."

"Huh?" Joseph exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You... You just stole my line, didn't you? Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?"

"Because I'm more clever than you on the battlefield. I should be the one to remind you," Napoleon smugly said. "But... never mind, it's better for you to stick close to me. This Dumouriez guy is quite self-centered; he might sell out his comrades to save himself."

Following the mischievous Napoleon around like a puppy? That was a blow to Joseph's self-esteem. But after some contemplation, he realized that he was nowhere near as skilled as Napoleon in battle, so he decided to put his ego aside.

"Alright, when it gets real, I'll stick with you."

But, he added, "I need to keep an eye on you and prevent you from causing more trouble."

Meanwhile, another man named Joseph was facing a critical decision in his life. In the National Convention, the voting that would determine the fate of Louis XVI had begun. Outside the Convention's chambers, crowds surrounded the building, their chants audible even inside:

"Off with Louis's head!"

"Eliminate the enemies of the homeland!"

"Anyone who protects Louis, we'll destroy them!"

To protect the safety of the National Convention, the Paris Commune dispatched a unit of National Guard troops with cannons. However, their arrival only increased the sense of insecurity for many.

Joseph Fouche was equally uneasy, but he had a later voting slot, giving him a chance to assess the situation first. In the Jacobin Club elections, Robespierre had supported secret voting, but when it came to voting on Louis XVI's fate, he insisted on a public vote.

"You were elected by the people of Paris or other regions in France. You're not voting for yourself but representing the citizens who elected you. They have the right to know how you voted," he argued.

This reasoning was compelling, and the Girondins retreated again. The voting process now involved each deputy taking the stand, stating their decision, and having it recorded by a clerk, who would then hand it to the deputy for their signature and print it for public view.

The first to step up to vote was Pierre-Victorien Vergniaud, one of the leaders of the Girondins and the President of the National Convention. The night before, he had called on everyone to resist the pressure and pardon the king. He even announced that he would use this opportunity to deliver a speech calling for tolerance and reconciliation. Yet, his actions were unusually slow, his head lowered, unable to meet the eyes of the others. In a nearly inaudible voice, he uttered a single word. The recording clerk couldn't even make it out and asked him to repeat it.

"La mort..." (Death penalty), he said in a hushed tone.

Although his voice was barely audible, it was clear enough for everyone to hear. The clerk recorded his vote and handed the record to him for his signature. Vergniaud signed and slinked off the stage like a defeated dog.

"A good start," Robespierre applauded and commented to Danton, who was sitting beside him.

"Vergniaud likes to play the hero, but I know that this guy's courage is as big as a rabbit's. A few people with pikes, shouting slogans outside his residence, would be enough to intimidate him," Danton said, with a hint of disdain. Since the Girondins had rejected his offer of reconciliation, they would have to face his hostility.

With this beginning, the Girondins' resolve was beginning to crumble. Fortunately, Condorcet followed, and with his lead, other Girondin deputies began voting for clemency.

However, the next few voters were Jacobins, and their stance was unwavering. Without hesitation, they loudly proclaimed, "La mort!"

The vote tally seesawed back and forth, with only a few votes separating the two sides at most. Time passed, and it was evening, yet the crowd outside had not dispersed. On the contrary, more people had joined after finishing their work. They lit torches and surrounded the Convention, alternating between cheering and cursing, singing songs like the "Song of the Slaves" and the recent hit from the September Massacres called "Everything Will Be Fine."

In this cacophony, the voting continued, with only a few deputies left to vote. The difference in the number of votes favoring the death penalty had widened slightly, but there were still more Girondin deputies left to vote. If these remaining deputies voted for clemency, the balance might shift.

Fouche pondered the current vote count and the remaining deputies on both sides. The outcome remained uncertain. However, he couldn't watch much longer; his turn to vote was coming up soon.

He knew he had betrayed Robespierre, who wasn't known for his forgiveness. He had also offended Danton, as most of the information against Danton and the Roland couple had come from his investigations. Danton undoubtedly held a deep grudge against him. But...

Fouche surveyed the hesitating Girondin deputies who still had time to vote and saw their pale faces and wavering expressions. He knew these people were on the brink, unable to withstand the pressure from outside.

"Ten people are hesitating, and at least half of them will betray the cause. With every one out, one in, Louis's fate is sealed," he concluded, observing the wavering deputies.

"Joseph Fouche," the presiding officer called his name.

Fouche stood up, smiled as he glanced at his former allies, and confidently made his way to the platform. Without hesitation, he loudly declared, "La mort!"