Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1487 - 1393: Holiday
Chapter 1487: Chapter 1393: Holiday
Joseph looked at the Security Chief and asked, “How many protesters are there in northern Switzerland?”
“Around 400 people in Basel and Zurich, over 200 in Schwyz.”
Basel has a city population of just over 20,000, and Zurich has not fully recovered after being ravaged by war, so a protest of more than 400 people is already quite sizable.
Joseph nodded, “The harder the pro-Austrian forces press, the greater the force of backlash will be in the future.”
He then instructed, “In your next steps, focus on spreading the message in Austria that their government has provided substantial aid to northern Switzerland to weaken our influence there.
“By the way, how much aid has Vienna given to the Swiss?”
Lavallette opened his notebook: “Approximately 100,000 to 120,000 florins, and over a thousand flintlock guns, Your Highness.”
“Too little. Announce it as 1 million florins and 5,000 guns. I will have the Foreign Ministry circulate the idea that we are not considering the requests for federation from other Swiss states.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Lavallette diligently noted down, hesitating a bit, “But won’t this reduce the pro-French groups in places like Basel…”
Joseph smiled, “This will only embolden Vienna even further.”
The Security Chief, although not fully understanding, did not press further, but instead turned to say,
“Your Highness, there is another matter; the Marquis of Albuquerque in Porto may have reached an agreement with Madrid. The Bragança and Vimara Perez families started withdrawing from the Porto area last week.”
Joseph frowned slightly, but before he could ask, Alexandra noticed his expression and whispered in his ear, “The Albuquerque family is the largest in Northern Portugal. The Perez family’s influence is slightly smaller, but they are very close to the Royal Family.”
Joseph nodded slightly.
It seems that the nobles in Northern Portugal are prepared to abandon resistance. With Bragança being the surname of the Portuguese Royal Family, it’s evident that the royal influence has failed to prevent them.
Not surprising, after years in South America, the Portuguese Royal Family is increasingly unwilling to throw gold coins into the “fire pit” of the Iberian Peninsula—right now, every penny invested in Brazil yields multiple returns, while Porto, continuously surrounded by Spanish forces, just endlessly devours massive military expenditures.
The Portuguese nobles who went to America with the Royal Family are now refusing to pay the war taxes.
The nobles remaining in Northern Portugal have already exhausted their wealth, and seeing the aid from America decreasing, they surely have other plans.
As for the Portuguese commoners, thanks to Charles IV adopting Joseph’s suggestion to grant them relatively lenient autonomous policies, almost nobody troubles the Spanish Army—in fact, they can now sell goods through Spain to member nations of the common market, and life is slightly more prosperous than before.
Joseph pondered briefly, writing in the “To-Do List” section of his notebook:
[Order the General Staff to increase forces at Gibraltar and formulate a corresponding battle plan. Juno Corps must be the first to storm the fortress.]
Yes, he knew full well that once the Portuguese leave Porto, even if the British Army wishes to continue holding it, their range of activities will greatly shrink, causing the British fleet at Porto Port to find it even harder to gather supplies, and even risk attacks from Spanish forces from the shore.
Currently, the French and Spanish Allied Army and the British Army at Gibraltar Fortress are evenly matched in power; if the British naval supply capability weakens, it’s only a matter of time before the fortress is breached.
Since it can’t drag on any longer, the best outcome of this battle should be achieved by the French Army—
In future discussions of the Gibraltar battle, people will say “The Spanish Army assisted the French Army in defeating the British,” rather than “The French Army assisted the Spanish Army.”
What seems like a mere difference in phrasing actually makes a considerable difference in diplomacy. On one hand, it helps to establish the master-subordinate relationship between the French and Spanish in military affairs, and on the other, it allows France to have more influence in the Strait of Gibraltar.
Outside the car window, the neatly arranged roadside trees began to change into naturally growing, slightly disorderly trees, signaling that the Royal Hunting Ground was near.
Just as Lavallette was about to take leave, Joseph stopped him to ask, “Has aid to Mysore been shipped out?”
The Security Chief quickly nodded, “Yes, Your Highness, the transport ships set sail from Malta Island five days ago and must have reached Antakya by now.”
Although Mysore waging war with the British on their own initiative left Joseph somewhat displeased, he still felt it necessary to spend money on obstructing the British in the Indian Peninsula.
Given France’s current financial situation, allocating 10,000 flintlock guns, 40 cannons, and the necessary tents, gunpowder, and other military supplies to Mysore is fairly straightforward.
With the outer sea blocked by the British fleet, the aid supplies still follow the same route—unloaded in the Ottoman city of Antakya on the east side of the Mediterranean Sea, transported via the Euphrates River to the Persian Gulf, then delivered along the northern side of the Indian Ocean to Mysore.
Joseph gave Lavallette a few more instructions, watched him leave, and the carriage quickly stopped in the Royal Hunting Ground.
As Joseph and Alexandra stepped out of the car, they heard Queen Mary’s voice: “Dear, you’ve finally arrived. Armande told me you were still in a meeting this morning, and I feared you would arrive after sunset.”
Armande is her maid’s name.
Joseph approached and bowed, smiling, “It was a Senate meeting, ended quite quickly. And in the future, with the Senate managing affairs, I will have plenty of leisure time to accompany you on hunts.”
“Oh, thank Jesus! That’s wonderful!” Queen Mary joyfully took her son and daughter-in-law to the tents in the rest area, pointing to the wooden table placed on the grass, “Come quickly, and try the mille-feuille cake Mr. Kareem just created—it tastes like something out of a dream!
“Oh, and strawberry pudding, along with your favorite nut pastry.”
Joseph glanced at the table and immediately noticed several rectangular pastries a little shorter than a hand, with golden-yellow crusts and layers of pale yellow cake and cream alternating in the middle.
He almost blurted out, “Napoleon…”
Queen Mary looked at him surprised, “What did you just say?”
Joseph felt a bit awkward; this is clearly the Napoleon cake commonly seen in later times. Mom’s new royal pastry chef indeed has some skills.
He quickly corrected, “I meant… ah, a polite… lion. Yes, surely, the color of this cake resembles a lion’s mane, and it lies quietly on the plate, looking genteel.”
The polite lion “Poli Lion” sounds somewhat like Napoleon.
Queen Mary clapped her hands joyfully, “That’s quite a nice name; I’m sure Mr. Kareem will agree to call his new creation that.”
Joseph imagined a scene in a future cake shop where a sign for “Polite Lion Cake” is placed next to Napoleon Cake and couldn’t help but secretly wipe his sweat.
