The Fox of France - Chapter 366: Removal of Religious Texts

Since March of 1803, not far from the Freedom Palace, a new spectacle began to take shape.

Thanks to the railway connection, the area around the Freedom Palace had gradually flourished. The scenery was splendid, transportation convenient, and being relatively distant from the city center, the air was cleaner. Moreover, because it required a train journey to reach, the poor rarely ventured here, meaning the area was sparsely populated by the less affluent. This, in turn, implied a relatively secure environment, perfect for affluent philanthropists who couldn’t stand the presence of the less fortunate. Hence, this region had become one of the most important affluent neighborhoods in Paris.

Even before the construction of the Freedom Palace, certain well-informed or influential figures had acquired lands nearby from the government. At that time, the land held little value as it was barren, but today, the value of these lands had skyrocketed.

Two years prior, under Napoleon’s insistence, the Paris Higher Normal School had also been relocated to this area. Back then, before the completion of the railway, this region was relatively desolate, and land prices were low. To ease his work, Pierre-Simon Laplace, serving as the deputy headmaster, had also purchased a small villa here – after all, the land was inexpensive. In just two years, the value of his villa had multiplied several times. Now, considering the money earned from this villa, it surpassed what Laplace earned as the head of the Paris Higher Normal School. Consequently, one of Laplace’s regrets was only buying a single villa at the time. Especially upon discovering that Monsieur Monet quietly purchased three villas here. Three! That old man truly evoked envy.

Besides the Paris Higher Normal School, a portion of the Paris University had also been moved here. However, owing to its vastness unlike the Paris Higher Normal School, not all departments could be shifted; hence, only the School of Arts was relocated.

It was Sunday again, and a group of art students carried their easels to sketch around the Freedom Palace. As they painted, discussions naturally drifted to the adjacent construction site.

By this time, the new spectacle was nearly halfway complete. The primary construction had concluded, leaving only essential finishing touches pending. To minimize noise and dust’s impact on the surroundings, the entire construction site was enclosed by walls. Nevertheless, from the small hill where these students often sketched, they could still clearly observe the site’s overall scene.

“This stadium is enormous. It’s almost rivalling the grandeur of the Colosseum,” Nicholas remarked, seated in front of his canvas, sketching the Freedom Palace bathed in dawn’s glow, while idly chatting with Fedorov, who lounged nearby.

“It should be slightly larger than the Colosseum in terms of dimensions. Like how the Freedom Palace slightly surpasses the Pantheon. However, from this distance, everything appears slightly smaller,” Fedorov replied.

“When do you think this thing will be completed?” Nicholas inquired again.

“Next summer, the Olympics are scheduled to be held here. So, the construction should wrap up soon,” Fedorov stated. “Sometimes, I truly feel that the construction process itself is the real miracle. My friend, do you recall when we just moved here, this place was nothing but barren land? In just under two brief years, such a colossal structure rose from the ground. Consider this; the Romans used eighty thousand slaves over several decades to complete the Colosseum. Yet, the French, in just two years, have erected these.”

“They have reinforced concrete. But, don’t you find that structures made of reinforced concrete lack the essence of genuine rock? They lack that feeling, you know…”

“Come on, Nicholas,” Fedorov dismissed, shaking his head. “You should know, both the Pantheon and the Colosseum were predominantly made of concrete. Granted, they didn’t have reinforced steel back then, but the steel is within it, invisible to the eye, isn’t it? If there’s any difference, well, perhaps it’s merely a matter of insufficient weathering due to insufficient time.”

“Perhaps,” Nicholas conceded. “Have you noticed how fond President Bonaparte is of Rome?”

“Isn’t that widely known? Why else would they confer the White Eagle Order on him? And the Vatican, investigating an unsubstantiated rumor about an emperor of a great nation. What’s the reason behind that? Isn’t it evident? President Bonaparte adores Rome, especially its crown.”

“President Bonaparte spoke a few days ago, claiming democracy as the best system and his eternal loyalty to the French Republic,” Nicholas mentioned.

“Ha, the words politicians say… Only someone as kind as you would believe them. However, it is indeed peculiar. Normally, by this time, some media should start extolling the superiority of an empire because, logically, President Bonaparte’s coronation should be imminent. It might pose a problem if they switch course too abruptly.”

“Are you suggesting President Bonaparte might soon be crowned emperor?” Nicholas inquired.

“Why else would the Holy See dispatch investigators now to Austria’s Emperor? Isn’t it to reclaim the crown and hand it over to President Bonaparte?”

“But the relations between Austria and France seem quite amicable.”

“Which is precisely why some matters are truly perplexing.”

As these two students murmured, the Holy See formally dispatched investigators to Austria, ready to probe the Holy Roman Emperor on charges of heresy.

Austria reacted furiously, declaring the prohibition of the Holy See’s investigators from entering Austria. They issued an ultimatum, demanding the Holy See cease such insulting actions and offer an apology to His Imperial Majesty. They stated their hope for the Holy See to promptly reconsider and not exacerbate the feelings of the Austrian populace. Otherwise, any consequences would be the Holy See’s responsibility.

The threat implied in their words was unmistakable. Naturally, the Holy See refused to accept such a threat and immediately lodged a protest against Austria, stating:

The scrutiny of believers’ faith’s purity is a traditional right of the Holy See, bestowed by the Almighty. Austria’s government’s unjust actions are a blatant disregard, not only toward the Holy See but also toward the Almighty Himself, bordering on heresy.

However, both the Pope and the Almighty are merciful, tolerating mistakes. The Holy See’s investigation is not just an investigation but also an aid. Hence, there’s no intention to insult Emperor Francis II. Emperor Francis II should, in humility, accept this help from the Holy See for correction and improvement. He should refrain from displaying such a misguided attitude and resist the caring gesture from the Pope’s office.

Thus, Emperor Francis II and his Austrian government should immediately reconsider their position. The Holy See awaits Emperor Francis II’s repentance and apology.

Naturally, this statement further angered Austria, or at least, it seemed so. Austria announced the temporary suspension of remitting the Holy See’s tithe. Until the Holy See altered its insulting investigation of the Emperor, apologized, and retracted, Austria’s royal household would temporarily retain these funds.

This decision incensed the Holy See. They sent an envoy to Austria, demanding Emperor Francis II immediately revoke this resolution. However, this envoy was attacked in Vienna by unidentified assailants, sustaining injuries and being forced to temporarily halt the mission, returning to the Holy See.

This incident rendered Emperor Francis somewhat passive. However, he

persisted: until the Holy See rescinded the “insulting investigation” against him, not a single coin would leave Austria for the Vatican.

By September of that year, the Holy See once again dispatched a communication to Francis, demanding Austria remit the tithe within a set period. Otherwise, they would take “decisive measures” against Emperor Francis II.

Emperor Francis II continued to remain unmoved. Austrian media had begun direct attacks on the Pope, even suggesting Austria should emulate Emperor Henry IV’s actions and march on Rome to replace the pontiff.

However, these were more of empty boasts. The reality was that between Austria and the Papal States stood the core ally of the French—a northern Italian republic.

Some newspapers resorted to mockery of the Pope, ridiculing his display of bluster, claiming he lacked the courage to act. One even depicted the Pope trembling behind an image of Jesus, portraying him as a timid figure.

Interestingly, Franz’s resistance paradoxically improved his image among the public. After numerous failures in war against France, he had been seen as vacillating and feeble. He was even depicted as ‘boundless’ in orchestrating immoral tendencies. But now, this move had added a hint of masculinity to the Emperor’s persona.

Naturally, this compelled the Pope to take concrete action. In February 1804, an official decree from the Papacy declared the removal of Franz II from the Church’s fold and stripped him of the title “Emperor of the Romans.”

Austria promptly responded to the Papal action by proclaiming Pope Pius VI to be physically and mentally unfit for office. Consequently, Austria refused to recognize the validity of Pius VI’s decree. Emperor Franz II remained a devout Catholic and the “Emperor of the Romans.”

Regarding the rift between the Papacy and Austria, the French adopted an indifferent stance. Officially, the French Foreign Minister Talleyrand issued a statement:

“The French Republic consistently upholds religious freedom policies and a non-intervention principle in other countries’ internal affairs. France hopes for peaceful coexistence and mutual progress among nations and religions.”

In essence, despite Talleyrand’s verbose statement, the underlying sentiment was: “Not our concern.”

Even French media didn’t pay much heed to the matter. While the news successfully made it to the front page of “The Scientific Truth Gazette” on the first day, it failed to secure top headlines. Instead, the headline news was about the “Formal Awarding of the ‘Prometheus Prize’ by the French Academy of Sciences.”

Indeed, the day the Pope declared Franz II’s expulsion from the Church coincided with the French Academy of Sciences awarding the inaugural “Prometheus Mathematical Prize” and “Prometheus Medical Prize.” Hence, not only did this decision miss the front-page spot in “The Scientific Truth Gazette,” it barely made it to other mainstream newspapers.

Out of respect for Catholicism, “The Scientific Truth Gazette” did place the Papal decree on the front page. However, in Protestant areas like the Rhine Federation and England, this news didn’t even warrant a front-page mention.

In the Rhine Federation, since the mathematical award went to Gauss from Brunswick, the newspapers there naturally highlighted Gauss’s achievement on their front pages. Other sections on the front page detailed various aspects of Gauss’s accomplishments. Admittedly, explaining Gauss’s achievements was a daunting task for most reporters and editors, even in the early 19th century, let alone in the 21st century. Just a few years before Joseph’s time travel, he had seen news online about a “Chinese student littering the floor with remaining materials in a math modeling competition.”

Thankfully, “The Scientific Truth Gazette” resolved the issue. They provided several educational pieces about Gauss’s mathematical achievements. While these explanations were decipherable word by word, the combined meaning proved elusive. Nevertheless, the rather naive North Germans liked reading them, even though they couldn’t understand, reassuring themselves that the people from the Rhine Federation were indeed formidable.

Regarding the Pope’s expulsion of the Austrian Emperor, what did that matter to us? Push it to the back, push it to the back. For the first edition, we must feature news about Gauss and provide academic insight into his achievements. The second edition? That will introduce details about the medical award—can’t show bias. Additionally, we need interviews with Gauss’s friends, classmates, and even his elementary school teacher. Do you know how Gauss calculated 1+2+3…+100 as a child?

Consequently, the Pope’s and Austrian Emperor’s affair had to be relegated to the third edition. Even in the third edition, a considerable space would be devoted upfront to admire France’s selflessness.

In England, the scenario was quite similar. The headline of the first edition naturally covered the award, while the rest of the front page detailed the lives of the two laureates. Given Carroll’s achievement, widely known since the previous ‘Lancet’ controversy, his introduction could be more concise. However, Gauss’s introduction was indispensable.

Moreover, Gauss was a child prodigy, making his story even more newsworthy. Across nations, readers tended to favor tales of prodigies. Thus, nearly every newspaper recounted how Gauss calculated 1+2+3…+100 as a child.

At least these matters were addressed on the front page. After all, Gauss wasn’t English, and Carroll, even worse, was a rebel. So, their coverage required less space compared to the Rhine Federation. Hence, the first edition covered it all.

By the second edition, the English believed it necessary to publish reflective articles on the current state of scientific and technological development in England and ponder why they lacked competitiveness in such prestigious awards. They also aimed to discuss France’s progress and highlight areas worthy of emulation for the English—a move that left no space for the Pope’s decree.

As for the third edition, well, it would serve prospective students intending to study in France by detailing various French schools. Especially this time, as all four mathematical prize nominees hailed from the Paris High School, arousing immense interest in this recently established university. So, providing information about these schools occupied a substantial portion of the space. Eventually, the Pope’s removal of the Austrian Emperor’s church affiliation barely found a prominent place even in the third edition.

In Austria, this news didn’t even make it to the newspapers. It was only a few days later, when the Austrian government announced Pius VI’s physical and mental decline, rendering him unfit for office and thus refuting Pius VI’s decree, that people became aware of the Pope’s expulsion of the Emperor and the stripping of his “Roman Emperor” title.

In essence, the Papacy’s action was expected to draw attention across Europe. However, due to their well-timed decision and various deliberate or unintentional maneuvers, the event unfolded without much ado.