In August, at Captain Moncey’s suggestion, André agreed to select, as the temporary station and training base of the Champagne Composite Regiment, a site near Macau on the left bank of the Garonne, just north of Bordeaux. There had originally been a garrison post there under the Garonne Infantry Brigade. Although it had been abandoned last year, most infrastructure remained intact; after repairs and cleaning, it again became the regiment’s training base.

  Soon André also moved his office to the Macau camp and began handling both the regiment’s affairs and those of the prosecutor of the Special Fiscal Court. The new office was very simple. When he moved in, the walls still gave off a faint lime smell. Apart from a hardwood desk and chair, a few backed chairs, and a somewhat worn settee, most of the floor was piled with assorted files not yet sorted and filed.

  Spartan as the conditions were, André refused any renovation. He kept a rule: luxury and pleasure belong outside the camp; everything military must be simple and efficient—from the layout of the camp, to the soldier’s mind, to the articles of war. The Macau camp had one convenience: north to the Lafite villa and south to the city of Bordeaux were each twenty kilometers (five leagues), which made communication among the three points easy.

  In early September, after the tax farmer Savigny publicly shot Comte Ducasse—and was then killed on Hoche’s order—the once-prestigious Bordeaux tax-farming company vanished, forcibly terminated by the prosecutor of the Special Fiscal Court. The accountants then spent three days and nights conducting a thorough liquidation.

  To maximize gain, the powerful André even invoked unlimited tracing authority: in law, he treated all of Savigny’s personal assets as part of the tax company’s transferred property and seized them—in plain terms, confiscation under a just legal name.

  Before long, the liquidators submitted a statement showing a net worth of 5.3 million reales. André then took 2,000,000 livres by various reasonable and less reasonable means; another 1,000,000 was deposited with the Bordeaux Chamber of Commerce, to be returned, by resolution of its board, to wine merchants as compensation for prior indirect-tax losses.

  However, though the tax-farming company had been abolished by the prosecutor of the Special Fiscal Court, indirect taxes—chiefly the wine transaction tax—still had to be collected. Under André’s hand, the Bordeaux Chamber of Commerce replaced the old tax farm, and the French United Commercial Bank handled remittance of wine taxes (transaction taxes) to the Paris head office.

  Only the remaining 500,000 livres belonged to the state or the Constituent Assembly. André did not send an escort; on advice from his banking partner, the Spanish Comte de Cabarrus, he deposited the 500,000 in the Bordeaux branch account of the French United Commercial Bank, to be used for settlements between branch and headquarters—and as one of the Comte’s weights in dealing with Parisian grandees.

  By rough reckoning, since going south to the Gironde, André had profited in Bordeaux far beyond his original expectations.

  In real estate alone, the Lafite estate (chateau and villa) and nearby vineyards totaled 85 hectares, including parcels “persuaded away” from the tax company, Savigny, the elder Ouvrard, and the heirs of Chateau Cheval-Blanc. Its value was no less than 9,000,000 livres, but money no longer measured its worth. André regarded Lafite more as a legacy for posterity and as the bond of trust and security between himself and allies in the Chamber of Commerce.

  As a lawyer, André knew the importance of contracts. All legal formalities for Lafite and its 80 hectares of vineyards were complete, leaving not a seam in the wording. However, the winds might blow—the coming Republic, a usurping Napoleonic Empire, or a restored Bourbon monarchy—future rulers would have to recognize the legality of André Franck’s title to this land. The premise, of course, was that André safely weathered June 1793–July 1794.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  In cash: before August, Ouvrard had obtained 1,600,000 livres for the Bordeaux United Assets Company (after his share was deducted); then Perrier earned 4,000,000 livres for the company—mainly church lands in the Haut-Médoc, shares in an arms concern, and vineyards on the right bank of the Garonne. Add André’s recent appropriation of 2,000,000 livres from the tax company and Savigny, plus sundry minor gains, and the total came to about 8,000,000 livres (actually 7,000,000 on hand).

  Nominally, this vast sum belonged to the Bordeaux United Assets Company; in fact, it was the prosecutor’s private property. At least in the Gironde and Bordeaux, no one dared object. Of course, outflow matches inflow: Parisian grandees had to be handled, and André was never stingy. Beyond the 7,000,000 livres in tax revenues, the prosecutor of the Special Fiscal Court himself put up 1,000,000 in cash or land as political contributions.

  Thus, in Paris, few cared to probe how deeply the prosecutor of the Special Fiscal Court had sunk into corruption. The Kingdom of France had never truly managed Eastern-style centralized rule. Even under the great autocrat Louis XIV, Versailles’s control over the realm was largely through governors of regions (clusters of provinces). The Napoleonic era would be similar.

  In this sense, so long as a commissioner (tax intendant) both remitted the royal taxes and did not inflame the taxed populace, he was a “good officer,” a celebrated commissioner. As for what he took privately—many might envy, resent, or hate—but none would air it publicly, still less prosecute. Even “L’Incorruptible,” Deputy Robespierre, on hearing what André had done in Bordeaux, chose—on political grounds—to forget it.

  There was also 1,000,000 livres of military funds retained from customs revenues for the Champagne Composite Regiment, plus 400,000 livres donated by the city through the Bordeaux Chamber of Commerce—1,400,000 in all. At first glance, 1,400,000 seemed ample for pay, standard arms, and equipment for 1,100 officers and men.

  But when the newly appointed quartermaster, Lieutenant Petiet, submitted the accounts, André was stunned: what had seemed ample was far from enough, and a large deficit appeared.

  Lieutenant Petiet stepped forward to explain: “Per your instructions, the regiment’s pay, arms, horses, and equipment are to match frontier units. So…

  “The infantry battalion—600 men—averages 600 livres per head, 60,000 livres, with the main costs being improved Model 1777 bayonet muskets and summer/winter uniforms. Because they are mounted, the cavalry company and the gendarmerie require at least 3,000 livres per trooper and horse—600,000 livres total. Artillery, engineers, and transport together take 300,000 livres. Sum: 1,260,000 livres…

  “Under current pay, allowances, and subsidies, in peacetime, with routine attrition of supplies, the regiment’s fixed monthly outlay is 65,000–70,000 livres. That leaves 140,000 livres from the 1,400,000—barely enough for September–October. In other words, from November the regiment will be in arrears.”

  Hearing this, André—bewildered—came to himself and felt a pounding headache. Looking up, he caught the quartermaster’s hesitant expression and knew worse news was coming. Better a sharp pain than a long one: he motioned Lieutenant Petiet to state it all at once.

  “…There is also privateering expenditure. An accountant sent from Paris says, per the Assembly’s request, it is charged to the Champagne Regiment. Captain Allemand (provisional) has submitted an expense list totaling 350,000 livres, mainly purchase and repair of ‘Le Renard,’ and support for sailors’ families. The French United Commercial Bank provided a credit guarantee—but it expired five days ago, and the bank has now sent a lawyer’s letter to regimental quartermaster headquarters…”

  Here, Lieutenant Petiet wisely fell silent and stood respectfully and still. Both the Champagne Composite Regiment and the French United Commercial Bank were under André’s name; such taxing decisions had to be made by him alone. As Captain Moncey, his friend, had warned, a lieutenant quartermaster’s business was only to execute orders.

  Since the close of the Babeuf case, out of mingled fear and hope for his fate, André had been secretly intent on mastering or controlling an elite force personally loyal to him—his future foundation. For that reason, he spared no effort on the new Champagne Composite Regiment. In truth, it was an experimental unit.

  In the camp, every private in the Composite Regiment was trained as an NCO; NCOs were evaluated as candidate officers; and officers, in André’s eyes, were future Generals—brigade, division, even corps commanders. Hence, André strove to keep a firm personal grip on the regiment’s effective command. For that, every principal commander and senior NCO had to win André’s trust; better a vacancy than a misfit.

  Note: “L’Incorruptible” refers to Robespierre, meaning he cannot be bribed or corrupted.