Chapter 213: Next Door (6)
“Gladly… you said.”
Adams repeated the words the young man before him had spoken, then wilted like a deflated balloon and dropped heavily into his seat.
The faces of the legislators around him showed confusion at the sight, but he had no mind left to spare for such secondary matters.
When he had entered the Capitol earlier, hadn’t reporters been camped out at the entrance? That meant every single word spoken here would surely be printed tomorrow morning and laid out on the best-located newsstands in Philadelphia.
The dear citizens of Philadelphia, and Americans in general, who still remembered the War of Independence clearly, would surely chant this Frenchman’s name while saying, “Now that’s what I call speaking plainly!”
This was fraud. Fraud.
What fool in this Capitol would actually think France would abandon Paris and dispatch one hundred thousand men to Philadelphia?
And yet among the citizens, there would be fools who truly believed it. Fraud was not fraud until the swindler took the money and ran.
Those fools would stay busy filling their own pockets, believing in that one promise the Frenchman had babbled, right up until the day British redcoats landed once more in Boston Harbor.
But that was that, and this was this.
With that one sentence, Jefferson’s Democratic-Republican Party, which pushed pro-French sentiment as its party line, would sprout wings and ascend, which in turn meant that Adams’s Federalist Party, which pushed pro-British sentiment as its party line, would fall.
Yes. In the next election, the Democratic-Republicans would take a majority.
Even if not his oldest and dearest friend, Adams and the Federalist Party’s dream of a “less hostile” Anglo-American relationship would now vanish like dust scattered in empty air.
From now on, even mouthing the phrase “reconciliation with Britain” as a mere pleasantry would get someone subjected to an ideological purity test—Are you perhaps a traitor? Say ‘England are bastards.’
And was that all?
Under Jefferson’s leadership, with his cry to expand the rights of the states, the powerful United States Adams had imagined ruling this continent, the United States united under one strong government, would also disappear.
A federal army with a strong chain of command, a federal supreme court empowered to exert authority over the states—all of it would be rendered meaningless beneath the Democratic-Republican catchphrase of “expanding the rights of the states.”
Then what would become of this fragile nation now?
Even if only in form, without a single diplomatic wall to strip the enemy of justification, and with nothing but a rabble not even united under one commander—could they defend the United States from those mighty European powers?
The answer was simple. Even a shoeshine boy polishing shoes on the Boston docks could say it plainly.
They could not.
And yet… if somehow they paid the price and defended it, it would only be after a vast shedding of blood. But after paying such a price, would America still resemble a normal country?
Oh, Lord. Please preserve this United States.
Without saying a word, Adams clasped his hands and prayed and prayed.
—Grrrrowl.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“That noise came from your stomach, didn’t it?”
“There are stomachs growling all over the place. What does it matter whose it is?”
“That’s true.”
Even though lunchtime had long passed, the area in front of the Capitol was still packed with reporters. If they stepped away for even a moment to fill their hungry stomachs and missed the hottest topic of the age, their heads would roll.
So when roughly a hundred reporters were all performing together with their stomachs, a few Frenchmen came creeping over carrying baskets that gave off a savory smell.
“Sniff, sniff. What’s that smell?”
“Damn. My mouth’s watering.”
“All right! Convenience meals from the Ears of the Nation have arrived! Twenty cents each! Wow, cheap! So cheap!”
“What are they made of?”
“What else? Naturally, with wheat and meat from this very America!”
“Hmm. The taste isn’t bad at all. Perfect when you’re busy.”
“Of course, of course. Please keep using us! We’ll be opening across the street soon.”
After those few Frenchmen passed by, a little time went by, and then—
“Ah, ah! He’s coming out! The Capitol doors are opening!”
“Former President Guillaume! Please give us a statement!”
“Move aside! I was here first! I got my spot first!”
“Haha, I’ll answer all of you. Take it slowly.”
The young Frenchman who stepped out of the Capitol spoke loudly in English thick with a French accent.
“Your Excellency! Is it true that France has guaranteed America’s military security?”
“We heard that you gladly answered a very extreme question—whether France would abandon Paris for Philadelphia. Is that true?”
“It is true.”
Unlike the Frenchman, who answered naively with his hands behind his back as if it were no great matter, the hands of the hundred-odd reporters before him immediately began moving nonstop over their notebooks.
After pausing for a moment, the Frenchman slowly swept his gaze around and spoke.
“There are exactly four things for which a person may stake his life. First is freedom of faith, second is the homeland, third is family, and fourth is sovereignty.
“The reason your ancestors first set foot on the American continent was to seek freedom of faith, and the reason you fought for independence was to find a homeland, to protect your families from exploitation, and to reclaim your sovereignty from someone you had never elected.
“We French are the same! We made our Revolution in order to protect our families from exploitation, and to drive out incompetent rulers prattling on about being barons and viscounts so that we might reclaim our sovereignty! So long as the spirit of liberty, equality, and fraternity lives within our French Constitution, I will never abandon America, the sibling of liberty!”
I was now swinging both arms broadly as I shouted,
“Hurray for the United States! Hurray for France! Hurray for the Franco-American alliance!”
Mm, mm. My thanks to all the reporters for your fiery support. Bring A4 paper and a marker next time and I’ll personally sign for you. Ah, but photos are difficult.
Still, talk about Philadelphia burning—what nonsense.
Philadelphia, on fire? I’d seen the Twin Towers burn, but as far as I remembered, there had been nothing else of that sort on the American mainland.
Unless the head of some puppet group up north went mad with Taepodong missiles, or some Islamic fundamentalist in a turban with a huge beard went mad with suspiciously explosive sticks for Allah, there was no war on American soil as far as I knew.
Come to think of it, even in the Second World War, it was Hawaii that got hit, not the mainland. San Francisco and Los Angeles didn’t even take a bullet, did they? Truly, I was a good adult. I hadn’t lied, after all. I wouldn’t fall into the Hell of Tongue-Ripping after death.
As if I were some fool, would I just blurt things out without thinking? Every word I spoke came only after deep reflection and anguish.
“Alliances—diplomacy—are trust! But trust is a frightening thing. Once trust collapses, families collapse! Society collapses! The world is laid waste, and then…”
It was nice knowing the future. I could say whatever I wanted. If you didn’t like it, go get reincarnated.
October, 1794.
French Louisiana.
What a truly beautiful day. The birds chirped, the flowers bloomed, and delicious food was plentiful—how could such a day not be good?
“To think that even in October the weather could be this mild. If only there weren’t the occasional hurricanes and such, this truly would be paradise on earth. What a pity.”
Enjoying wine with the shimmering jade-colored sea as his side dish, Talleyrand spoke those words aloud.
“He handles matters so well that I can hardly find anything left to criticize.”
Talleyrand set down his wineglass for a moment, then lifted the American newspapers delivered to the port that morning so they were easy to see.
[“The broth is thick and there’s plenty of meat. This stew is truly excellent.” Former President Guillaume of France praises a shop owner!]
[“The United States is a great country. I will share in the American Dream!” A shocking greeting from the former French President! What is this American Dream that captivated him? James Monroe of the Democratic-Republicans responds!]
From light daily matters—
[“I will act so that the blood and sweat buried here were not in vain. Comrade, rest well.” Guillaume de Toulon visits the Philadelphia veterans’ cemetery.]
—to various legislative activities, all of it was there.
“To think that I merely tossed him a few ingredients and he turned them into a masterpiece like this. Truly, he’s ten times more suited than I am.”
Uttering words that would have made someone draw a pistol on the spot if they had heard them, Talleyrand nodded.
“However…”
[“War? Gladly, if it is for America, sibling of liberty!” His stirring words move the heart. Is America truly fine remaining as it is?]
The moment he saw the words decorating the last remaining front page, Talleyrand frowned.
Well… he himself had once said, In politics, ‘I’ll consider it’ means no, ‘yes’ means I’ll consider it, and ‘no’ means you absolutely mustn’t do it. Even so, this was a little different in kind, wasn’t it?
War. War.
Not something else, but war. To think he was performing acrobatics on that particular wire—was this truly the same Finance Minister who normally valued human life so greatly? Shouldn’t the Finance Minister’s natural disposition have been to recoil in horror and shout, “Ah, for fuck’s sake!” at the mere mention of it?
Then what was the reason? What was so precious that it made the Finance Minister utter even the word war?
An alliance with America? At best it was an alliance with a third-rate state.
Had it been in Europe, America might at least have been able to send reinforcements to fill a battle line. But was this country across the far Atlantic powerful enough to send soldiers into a European war? It was not.
In that case—
“…Is this continent called America truly that precious?”
Talleyrand stroked his chin.
It was certainly vast. But if asked whether that vast land was all useful, one could only say, well now.
And yet the Finance Minister wanted America. He clearly valued America as something more than mere diplomatic change.
Why?
“S-sir…”
“Mm? Ah, it’s you.”
Perhaps because he had been so focused, Talleyrand had failed to notice the page approaching his side until the boy spoke.
“My apologies. My mind was elsewhere.”
“N-not at all.”
“Thank you. What is it?”
“The first report has arrived from the exploration party His Excellency the Minister sent out, and before it is sent to Philadelphia, I’ve brought it for approval.”
“Shouldn’t that… go to Governor Dumouriez rather than to me?”
“Governor Dumouriez stepped out for a time to meet with port companies, so I brought it to you, Vice Minister.”
“Hmm. Very well. Let me see it.”
Though inwardly displeased at the feeling of having to work while trying to rest, Talleyrand accepted the stack of papers the page handed him and slowly read downward.
“…”
“V-Vice Minister?”
“…Good heavens.”
“Vice Minister?”
“Guillaume, Guillaume, Guillaume! Just what are you—!”
Talleyrand could not tear his eyes away from the countless resources listed in the report.