In the midst of the blazing sun, it was already mid-morning, and the citizens of Propriano had not seen the rumored troop of the governor of Bonaparte enter the city.

The officials of the town hall still cordoned off the streets near the city gates, preventing the untouchables from disturbing the governor's chariot.

But even so, there was constant news in the town that the dignitaries who had gone to greet the governor Da Rao in the early morning had already been detained to the military camp outside the city

These rumors soon reached the ears of almost every townsman, and many of them witnessed the imposing army stationed on the outskirts of the town.

Now, the taverns and streets of the town were full of townspeople discussing the subject, and many of them had stopped doing their work, and had to ask around what had happened to the landlords.

After all, there were only a few completely independent freedmen in the towns, and the vast majority of the townspeople, regardless of their work, were forced to rely directly or indirectly on their masters.

Of course, there are many people who scoff at these rumors.

"It's a fart!"

On the streets of Propriano, an old man in a white robe couldn't help but his beard as he listened to the chatter on both sides, and stretched out his hand to point at a group of townspeople who had guessed that the old man had met with an accident and scolded:

"You untouchables, dare to be disrespectful to the old men?! Don't forget who fed you and clothed you! This is going to be put in our manor, and I'm going to give you a few whips! ”

The white-robed old man shouted angrily, and the people who were scolded by him didn't dare to argue, but quickly lowered their heads, scolded and walked away.

They all know this white-robed old man, who is the manor steward of the old man Custard's family, and he can also be the number one dog leg of Custard, such a character can be regarded as having a head and face in the town, at least not those serfs can provoke.

After scolding loudly, the butler was still angry, and a pair of rat-like eyes looked back and forth at the pedestrians on the street, as if he was looking for a punching bag.

Stroking the cowhide whip hanging from his waist, he soon found a familiar face in the streets—a serf working as a laborer on Custard's estate.

Crackling!

The butler raised his whip and swung it twice, and shouted angrily at the serf in a burst of anger:

"You lazy dog, dare to sneak into the town without work, Lao Tzu will remind you of the rules."

The laborer was also full of horror, and he, like many serfs, had secretly run from the manor to the town when he learned that something was going on in the town.

In the face of the cowhide whip drawn through the air, this force did not dare to hide, knowing that that would only add fuel to the anger of the butler, so he had to grit his teeth and squat in place with his head in his hands, allowing the long whip to draw a two-finger-wide blood mark on the thin torso.

Hiss!

Pedestrians on both sides of the street couldn't help but breathe cold air when they looked at the whip marks that were still oozing blood and purple, even though many of them had seen and experienced such punishments, this shocking scar was still a little unbearable to look at.

But all one could do to the laborer was this pitiful sympathy, for in this rural area serfs were on the same footing as domestic animals.

Would anyone stop an owner from whipping a pig?

The housekeeper whipped down hard, but he still felt a little puzzled, his own Custard master really didn't have any news for a long time, plus these damn rumors, it really made the housekeeper a little upset.

"Damn pigs!"

He snorted vigorously, withdrew his whip and slashed it around, and was ready to vent his anger on the laborer in front of him, who was already shaking his teeth.

At this moment, the sound of horses' hooves suddenly sounded on the gravel streets of Propriano.

The crowd who was still watching immediately turned their heads to look in the direction of the city gate.

I saw about 20 soldiers carrying muskets escorting a group of bureaucrats on horseback from the city gate into the city from the city gate

At the forefront of the horseback riding was a man in a ceremonial gown and trousers, Wen Zou Zou, who looked a little nervous, but still looked majestic under the protection of the soldiers.

This is exactly what Mr. Cogello and his Ministry of Finance bureaucrats are.

Mr. Cojero, who was riding a variegated hunting horse, saw at a glance the butler who was swinging the whip in the middle of the road and the laborer who was struggling on the ground in pain, and could not help frowning, and stepped forward and scolded:

"Oh God! Who are you to dare to commit such a barbaric act under the Guanghua Day! ”

The butler glanced with some apprehension at the soldiers and the townsfolk who were watching the bustle, put away his whip with a grunt, and looked at Mr. Coggierau, probably knowing that it was someone from the Governor's side.

"Is there any problem, sir?"

The butler hung the whip back on his waist, and although he knew that Mr. Coggero was from the Governor's Palace, he did not feel that there was anything wrong with his behavior at all, and said with confidence:

"This dog thing works on our manor, and he has sneaked into the town today, and he is very disrespectful to the master, if it weren't for the large number of people, he would have been locked up in the cellar and eaten bran water for a month..."

"You!"

Mr. Cogiro couldn't help but grin and inhale a cool breath, he had never seen such a barbaric and rude scene in Ajaccio all year round, and hurriedly refuted:

"What about his work for you, you have no right to abuse him in such a horrendous way, it's a crime!"

"Uhh

I saw the butler glance contemptuously at the laborer who was still struggling, shook his head and retorted:

"Sir, oh no, sir, you laugh, he's just a serf... For decades, for hundreds of years, we have treated serfs like this, it has been effective, it has always been. ”

"Ever? It's always been that way, right?! There will be no serfs left in the land of Corsica immediately! Lieutenant! ”

Even the weak Mr. Coggero could not help but be furious when he heard this fallacious reasoning, and turned to the lieutenant officer who was in charge of guarding them, and ordered:

"Please take this sinner down!"

Under the astonished gaze of the old butler and dozens of onlookers, two soldiers stepped forward and tied up the old man, who had no ability to resist.

The usually powerful and chatty butler did not react until this time, and while struggling needlessly, he loudly defended:

"What are you doing, sir! He is the serf of Lord Custard, and I am the steward of Lord Custard's manor, and I have been merciful to whip him a few times! I'm not a sinner at all, on the contrary, many people I'm a good person..."

"Shut up, shameless!"

Mr. Cojero motioned for one of his men to come and help the laborer up, and then looked at the white-robed butler with disgust:

"There are no lords in Corsica now, and there are no serfs, come on! Post and read out the official documents. ”

Mr. Cojero took out a stack of parchment paper from his bosom and handed it to several of his subordinates.

The bureaucrats of the Ministry of Finance immediately rode to all corners of the town with the official letter, prepared to post it in all the conspicuous places in the streets and alleys, and explained its contents to the illiterate who could not read or write.

One of them stayed where he was, holding the official document with a solemn expression, and took a few steps forward to read aloud to the onlookers:

"The Land Bill and the Agricultural Tax Reform Act, introduced by the Governor of Bonaparte, with the approval of the Governor's Palace of Corsica and the adoption of the Corsican Parliament, have entered into force, the summary of which reads as follows:

First, since the implementation of the Act, the ownership of land in all Corsica territories, except in urban areas, has been vested in the Corsican Government, and no private person or private organization is allowed to hold land ownership; All deeds based on land interests automatically cease; Monetary compensation for losses to the original landowners is financed by the Ministry of Finance, all in Corsican dollars.

Second, the Ministry of Finance will conduct regular censuses and establish a household registration system. The local councils distribute land use rights to workers under the supervision of the Ministry of Finance on the basis of the household registration system.

Third, in rural areas, the poll tax will be abolished and a land tax will be levied, and the specific tax rate will be determined by the area and fertility of the land.

Fourth, all local taxes are collected by the Central Ministry of Finance, and local city halls have no right to interfere, let alone impose any form of tax on citizens under their jurisdiction. All local expenditures will be distributed and transferred by the Central Ministry of Finance.

…………”

"Impossible..."

The white-robed butler listened to the bureaucrat read the official document aloud in a daze, and muttered in disbelief:

"No way, Pasquale Pauli would not dare to do this, how dare he, Lawrence Bonaparte!"

Unlike those serfs with low education and doubtful expressions, this white-robed butler has taken care of the family property for the old man for decades, and has some understanding of politics and the situation.

The first two official documents read by the bureaucracy clearly meant that all arable land and pastures should be returned to the government, and they were the kind of white wolves with empty gloves.

As for the compensation?

Everyone knows that Corsica is about to fall to the Bourbons, and soon the French silver Livre and Sur copper coins will replace the existing Corsican gold coins in circulation.

If this law is enforced, the wealthy landlords may be able to live in luxury for a few years with their surplus wealth, while the middle landlords may have to carry hoes and sickles into the wheat fields themselves.

And it won't be long before the term landlord will be swept into the dustbin of history in Corsica.

The butler trembled uncontrollably, and his whole body was limp like an old dog with a broken spine, and if it were not for the support of two strong soldiers, he would have fallen to the ground like a mess of mud.

If Master Custard is gone, how can he continue to be the housekeeper of the manor above 10,000 people?

At that time, if you don't rely on what to survive with your crippled old body, it is impossible for those people who have offended as a manor steward over the years to let yourself who has lost her backer spend the rest of her life in peace.

Mr. Cogello, who was sitting on the horse, listened silently to the reading of the official documents, and even though he himself was the earliest drafter and witness of the two bills, he could not help but have an excited look on his face after listening to the summary.

As Minister of Finance, he is of course most concerned about the changes to the Ministry of Finance in the bill.

Yes, anyone who is politically sensitive can see that Governor Bonaparte intends to use these two bills to create a powerful and powerful central treasury.

On the other hand, there is an infinite weakening of local power, especially after the deprivation of the right to collect taxes, the governor's palace can hold the whole Corsican money bag in its own hands, and the local town hall, which has lost its financial power, has no chance of rebelling against Ajaccio.

Mr. Cojero was even more agitated at the thought of this, but he remembered how the poor Ministry of Finance had been scorned and despised by the local government in the past, almost to the point that the decree could not be issued by Ajaccio.

And in the not-too-distant future, no city governor will be able to survive without looking up to the central treasury.

Of course, Mr. Cogiero, who was still excited, will not forget who single-handedly shaped this powerful treasury.

He will never forget that there will always be only one primary trait of the Treasury – loyalty, absolute loyalty.

Mr. Cogiero thought silently:

"The Ministry of Finance is the Ministry of Finance of Corsica, but it is also the Ministry of Finance of Bonaparte."

…

Compared with the two big names who have seen the world, the focus of the onlookers is different.

These people living at the bottom may be called ignorant because of their low level of education and simple knowledge.

But ignorance is in no way the same as stupidity.

To be able to survive in such a cruel living environment, their minds are definitely shrewd.

Although the bureaucrat's mouth was full of words that people seemed to understand, the serfs also vaguely understood:

All the harvest of the land on which they have cultivated for decades will no longer be put into the cellars of the landlords, who can never be filled, as they have in the past, but will be real and inviolable private property.

The townspeople looked at the finance bureaucrats as if they were watching a stage play that had nothing to do with them.

Hardly anyone believed that this darkness, which had been clouded over their generations since ancient times, would be completely torn apart by a sudden dawn today?

The silence lasted for a long time, before one of the townspeople awoke from his dream and boldly asked Mr. Cogiero:

"My lord, you mean that in the future, we will only have to pay taxes to the government for our harvest... That's what a land tax... Will this tax amount..."

This question immediately pulled the serfs back to the heavy reality of Zheng

Yes, if you have to pay a high land tax to the government, then what is the essential difference between this and handing over the harvest to the landlord?