At the National Assembly meeting on October 10th, the former first-tier representative and now the Member of Parliament for the Orléans district, Bishop Talleyrand, requested to speak.
Amidst a mixture of genuine and feigned applause, the Bishop in his solemn black robe ascended the pulpit. Unlike his equally seminary-educated and ever-mutable counterpart, known for his changing allegiances, Talleyrand excelled at delivering speeches. After all, the skills to sway the faithful from the pulpit could also be applied to sway the masses in a speech.
"Everyone knows that even though a new system has been established, and His Majesty the King has recognized the 'Declaration of the Rights of Man' and pledged allegiance to the constitution, France still faces a grave crisis. Some conservative nobles have fled abroad, making connections with other despotic monarchs in Europe, attempting to use their power to overthrow the revolution. At home, there is rebellion, banditry, and insurgents running amok, recklessly damaging our beloved France. These crises are severe. Can we turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to them?"
"We cannot!"
"We cannot!"
The members of parliament chimed in, and from the left side of the pulpit, a voice even exclaimed, "Hang those villains! String them up on lampposts!"
Despite his dislike for the radicals sitting on the left side, Bishop Talleyrand remained composed.
"However, we face another enormous difficulty: we lack funds," Talleyrand continued, "Due to the royal extravagance, France now owes as much as 4.5 billion livres, and just paying the interest will deplete our coffers. Without money, how can we arm our soldiers to defend our revolution?"
"So, what's your solution then?"
"Are you suggesting we can conjure up livres out of thin air?" someone from below shouted.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please, let's calm down," Bishop Talleyrand raised his voice, "I do indeed have a workable solution."
The room fell silent.
Many were thinking, "Is this guy out of his mind, planning to propose higher taxes?"
"Everyone knows that over the years, the Church has accumulated immense wealth," Talleyrand continued, "To my knowledge, the Church owns land worth over 3 billion livres, among other riches. If we can use this wealth for the common good, we will have a solution to our current crisis."
As soon as he spoke, the entire assembly erupted into cheers.
Some shouted, "Yes, those bloodsuckers should've given up these treasures a long time ago!"
Others yelled, "This is blasphemy!"
The latter were mostly representatives of the clergy, but they didn't garner much support. In times of financial crisis, contemplating raiding religious institutions had a long tradition in Catholic France.
Back in the day, one of the three great orders of knights, the Knights Templar, lost the Holy Land and had to return to France. Besides their combat skills, they were masters at making money, and they even invented the European banking system. King Philip IV of France owed them a considerable sum. When they returned to France, they brought back immense wealth, much to the envy of King Philip IV.
Philip IV was known to be a shameless character when it came to money. He never cared for religious fervor. Under his rule, at least two popes met their demise, and he forcibly brought the papacy within France, making several successive popes "prisoners of Avignon."
So, one Friday, Philip IV, using the pretext that the Templars were "heretics," ordered the arrest of all their members in France and confiscated all the Templars' possessions. He even controlled the pope who declared the Templars as heretics and condemned them for their emblem—a symbol of two knights, one behind the other. Originally, it commemorated the two founders of the order, but the ecclesiastical courts twisted it into a symbol of homosexual conduct.
In this way, King Philip IV eliminated his creditors and gained a substantial fortune. It is said that the Templars had prepared for this day, transferring or hiding much of their wealth, leading to numerous legends about the Templars' hidden treasures that persist in Europe to this day.
As devout Catholics, the people of France had no qualms about despoiling the Church. However, another voice made them hesitate.
"But we just enshrined the principle that 'private property is inviolable' in the 'Declaration of the Rights of Man.' Are we to trample our own principles so soon? If we can seize Church property today, whose property will be next tomorrow?" someone shouted.
So, everyone fell silent, their eyes fixed on Bishop Talleyrand.
Bishop Talleyrand seemed unfazed by the sudden pressure. He smiled and then spoke slowly, "A gentleman earlier mentioned the principle of 'sacrosanct inviolability of private property.' I wholeheartedly agree with this principle. But may I ask, who does the Church's property belong to?"
This question caught everyone off guard. Indeed, who was the rightful owner of Church property? Certainly not the Pope, and not even the bishops. If someone had to be designated as the owner...
"From a theological perspective, the Church's true owner is the Almighty God," Bishop Talleyrand continued, "But God has no need for earthly riches, and anyone who thinks otherwise blasphemes the divine. Furthermore..."
Bishop Talleyrand intentionally paused, then smiled as he continued, "The 'Declaration of the Rights of Man' protects the rights of humans, and God, truly, is not human. Therefore, this matter lies beyond the purview of the 'Declaration of the Rights of Man.'"
Laughter erupted below. Condorcet laughed as he pounded the table, and Barnave burst into such intense coughing fits he couldn't speak. Even the usually serious Robespierre joined in the laughter.
"This guy is a genius!" Robespierre said.
"This damned heretic!" some priests muttered through clenched teeth. Their voices had lowered as they realized the current situation was unfavorable for them.
"Damn it, why didn't I think of this? Letting this traitor steal the show," some people in black robes thought.
Other individuals dared not propose this idea, as it would surely offend the Church, turning a usually neutral institution into an enemy of the revolution. However, for clergy like Bishop Talleyrand, their actions would only further divide the Church, diminishing its influence. Clearly, Bishop Talleyrand had managed to sell the Church at a good price.
"If Church property belongs to God—personally, I find this idea blasphemous—then the only legitimate owners of Church property can only be all the faithful. The legitimate owners of all Church property in France are the French people. If that's the case, why can't the National Assembly, representing the French people, manage these assets that rightfully belong to us? Why can't we use these assets for the service of France?" Bishop Talleyrand continued to ask.
Bishop Talleyrand achieved unprecedented success, with his speech repeatedly interrupted by applause. His proposal quickly passed in the assembly. That evening, the resolution and Bishop Talleyrand's speech were disseminated through various newspapers for the people of Paris to read.
The next day, as Bishop Talleyrand left his residence, the surrounding crowd cheered him. Newspapers showered him with lavish praise, almost elevating him to the status of the greatest saint since Jesus. Bishop Talleyrand relished this feeling; he believed his long-desired rise to power was within reach.
Now that the financial issue was temporarily resolved, he could focus on training his "New Model Army." The revolutionaries lacked military expertise, and Joseph had previously excelled in assisting the National Guard's training at the district level. Therefore, he received an invitation to serve as a military instructor for the Paris National Guard. For this occasion, Marquis de Lafayette even wrote a letter inviting Joseph to his mansion for a meeting.
At this time, ignoring Marquis de Lafayette's summons was not an option. Meeting the hero of both continents was far safer than encountering Robespierre or Marat. So, Joseph quickly attended to his domestic affairs and dressed appropriately before leaving his home.
Riding in a light carriage, Joseph arrived at Marquis de Lafayette's mansion.
Lafayette's mansion was now bustling with activity. Since becoming one of the most influential figures in France, his home had become a hub for those seeking favors and connections.
Joseph handed the invitation to the gatekeeper, who inspected it and then addressed Joseph, "Mr. Bonaparte, the Marquis is currently meeting with guests. Please follow me to a sitting room to wait."
This was to be expected. In fact, when Joseph saw the multitude of carriages outside Lafayette's residence, he realized he might have to wait for quite some time.
A servant led Joseph into a sitting room. He noticed another man, roughly in his thirties, wearing a military uniform, already waiting there.
The servant brought Joseph inside, served him a cup of tea, and then left.
Seeing the servant exit, the man in the military uniform rose to his feet and looked at Joseph, his gaze sharp and appraising. He extended his hand and greeted him, "Hello, I am Joseph Bonaparte, a mathematics teacher. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The man quickly returned the greeting, "Hello, I'm Army Captain Lazar Carnot. I've heard about you from my teacher, Mr. Monge, and my friend Robespierre."