Descending On France 1780
Chapter 215 - 208 France does not need a King

Chapter 215: 208 France does not need a King

After the decision was made, the entire Italian Corps began to prepare for the handover of command.

Of course, Anning didn’t have to bother himself with these matters, as the energetic Chief of Staff Bertier was in charge.

Bertier seemed to have realized that Anning disliked dealing with clerical work, so he took it all onto himself and let Anning only handle the signing.

On the day before departure, Anning decided to take one last look at the land which he once imagined would bring him fame and success.

Without notifying anyone, he set out on horseback, only to find Napoleon, Beethoven, and the painter David catching up to him not far from the start.

Anning was surprised, "Why have you come?"

Napoleon: "Vanni came to find me. You’re too careless, you should at least bring a guard."

Anning opened his cloak, revealing the pistol and saber on his belt: "What guard can compare to my sword and pistol?"

Napoleon laughed heartily: "You’re right, myriads of troops have never killed you."

Beethoven was laughing too.

Anning asked Beethoven, "How come you’re with Bonaparte?"

"Uh, he wants me to listen to the music he composed." Beethoven looked troubled, without asking, one could guess that the music Napoleon wrote was probably as bad as his novels.

Anning: "Feel free to criticize him generously; speak out if you think it’s not good!"

Napoleon: "I just need more practice."

Beethoven laughed awkwardly, changing the subject, "So, what are we going to do?"

"Nothing much, just to have a look at this land of Italy," said Anning, turning his gaze towards the Alpine Mountains, where it had snowed the night before. The clear weather now revealed distant peaks.

The whole world was cloaked in silver white.

Seeing this view, Anning wanted to emulate the poetry of the great masters.

But saying "the scenery of the northern country" in Italy didn’t quite sound right, so he held back.

As Anning gazed at the Alpine Mountains, David took out his sketchbook and began to quickly capture the scene.

Napoleon joked, "Andy, aren’t you going to offer a poem or improvise a tune?"

Anning thought to himself, you should be asking the great composer next to me, who could produce famous pieces from simply walking and viewing the moonlight.

He was about to answer Napoleon’s question when he suddenly saw a funeral taking place in the cemetery of a church ahead.

Anning spurred his horse forward, curious to find out more.

The priest conducting the funeral was the first to notice Anning; he stopped the ongoing prayer and looked at the French Army Commander entering the graveyard on horseback.

Anning asked in Italian, "Sir, who is being buried?"

The priest replied, "It’s the town’s hunter, he died in the war’s conflict."

Anning dismounted, and said to the priest: "I see, then I shall give him a send off."

Anning then forced his way into the procession.

The Italians made way for Anning.

He walked straight up to the front of the coffin. The coffin was already covered with many flowers. As people came to bid farewell, they held flowers, silently said their goodbyes in front of the coffin, and then threw the flowers onto the casket.

Anning did not bring any flowers, so he took out his pocket watch and placed it on top of the casket. Then in a voice loud enough for the surrounding people to hear, he said, "This poor man died for the independence of Italy. May he rest in peace in heaven."

This local man clearly died due to the conflict between France and Austria on Italian soil, but Anning said it was "for the independence of Italy."

These words were not exactly wrong, after all, there were also Italian Redwood troops in the French Army.

Anning finished presenting the pocket watch, and Napoleon and Beethoven also stepped forward to offer their tributes.

When they were leaving the cemetery, an old Italian lady with tearful eyes stopped them.

"Good people!" the old lady said, "May heaven bless you!"

Then an Italian little girl, shyly hiding behind the old lady, stepped forward and offered Anning the flowers in her hands.

Anning bent down, gently touched the little girl’s cheeks, and then accepted the flowers—

The painter David witnessed the whole process.

The day after this small episode, Anning set off to return to France.

**

Although Marseilles was not exactly where Anning was from, after more than a year of Lazar Kano’s management, combined with the continuous good news of Anning’s victories at the front, the entire city welcomed the returning Anning with astonishing enthusiasm.

The citizens of Marseilles blocked the roads leading into the city, just to catch a glimpse of the famous general who had achieved consecutive victories in Italy.

Before entering the city, Anning had deliberately switched his mode of transport from a carriage to riding a horse, so as to better allow the entire city to observe him.

You may ask why he did not ride a horse for the entire journey – you’d have to ask Lasalle who had insisted on riding a horse all the way back and had been suffering from dysentery for days.

Unfortunately, in that era, there was no Mayinglong ointment; Lasalle could only endure the pain with gritted teeth every time he sat down.

Even the "King of Cavalry", who claimed he would spend his life on horseback, felt this way; Anning naturally knew better and chose the carriage.

After switching to his big white horse when he was near Marseilles, he even teasingly joked with Lasalle, "My King of Cavalry, why don’t you sit on the saddle instead of on the horse’s backside?"

Lasalle: "You’re asking knowingly! Forget it, this is the fate of every cavalryman. When Attila invaded Europe, I bet he also suffered greatly from hemorrhoids."

Anning laughed. Suddenly, he remembered a twisted rhyme: Riding a donkey grinds the bum, riding wears the bum, grinding the bum even more while riding– and he wondered how his translation plugin would handle this if he spoke it out loud.

Over a small hill, the sea and Marseilles suddenly appeared before them.

Along with the sea breeze also came cheers from the people of Marseilles: "General Frost, hooray!"

Anning smiled and waved back in response.

Then a voice from the crowd asked, "General, did you come back to support the King?"

Anning immediately couldn’t help but frown.

He glanced at Lazar Kano, who just shrugged his shoulders with an expression that seemed to say "I already reported to you that the Royalist forces are strong here."

Anning felt somewhat of a headache coming on; he had absolutely no connection to the King, and just because the son of Philip Egalite became the King, many people now considered him a Royalist.

Anning carefully observed the crowd and noticed the white fleur-de-lis flags of the Royalists mixed with the tricolor flags, clearly mistaking his return as a lifeline for the Royalist cause.

So Anning deliberately with very solemn, very slow movements, straightened the tricolor emblem on his hat.

However, no one seemed to notice this, and someone in the crowd still shouted, "General, hang all those Blues!"

Anning frowned, realizing that some things needed to be clarified.

So, he cleared his throat and declared with a sonorous voice, "Everyone! I have returned to France, firstly, to defend my homeland from the despotic clutches of Austria and Prussia! Secondly, to defend the tricolor flag!

"Some have mistakenly thought I am a Royalist. Here, I want to make it clear, I am always a Patriot!

"Many have forgotten, the first fires of the great Revolution were ignited by me at the Bastille!

"It was I who told Louis XVI that we refuse to leave unless expelled by bayonets!

"And it was I who escorted Louis XVI from the Palace of Versailles to Paris!

"In my eyes, France does not need a King! It never has!"