Chapter 1453: Severe Winter!
Chapter 1453: Severe Winter!
"Yes, Your Highness," Godan acknowledged, jotting notes down diligently in his ledger before hesitating. "However, this approach seems likely to impede the expansion of our financial system."
Joseph nodded. "It will indeed slow things down slightly, but the eventual returns will be far greater.
"First, we must create an atmosphere of hunger marketing. Oh, don't worry too much about the term. Essentially, we are artificially manufacturing scarcity for the clearing bank credentials. This will entice more nations to submit their applications.
"The order and speed of these audits will also serve as a barometer for our kingdom's favor toward the applicant country."
He took a sip of his coffee and added calmly, "Furthermore, you must realize that this is the opportunity the Security Bureau has been waiting for."
Though he only mentioned it in passing, Godan understood immediately.
This was a legitimate pretext to delve deep into the financial systems of other nations. By embedding a few Security Bureau experts among the auditors, they could at least map out the financial power structures of each country and gather intelligence on their true wealth.
This data would be invaluable for France's future financial expansion.
Joseph stood and looked outside. Several hundred people had gathered on the street opposite them, surrounding a shop draped in colorful ribbons, shouting excitedly.
Eman stepped forward, looking toward the distant crowd. "Your Highness, it appears to be the opening ceremony for a branch of the National Bank of San Carlos."
Joseph nodded.
The National Bank of San Carlos was Spain's largest financial institution. A few years ago, it had undergone reforms at the behest of the Spanish royal family, modeling itself after the Bank of France to become Spain's central bank.
This was the largest foreign bank currently operating in Marseille, which explained the festivities. At such grand openings, banks typically distributed sweets or bread to passersby, and sometimes even scattered coins.
In fact, nearly twenty foreign banks had already established branches in the vicinity of the Bank of France.
With the French Futures Exchange, the Stock Exchange, and other institutions nearby, these streets were so congested they were practically hard to move a single inch.
Outside the window, behind the San Carlos branch, a plume of white smoke drifted slowly past.
Joseph knew it was a steam railcar in motion.
Once Marseille had been designated as France's financial hub, massive investment and a tide of people had flooded the city, sparking rapid development.
The belt railway project, which had been stalled in the planning phase for ages, had seen its northern and western sections completed in record time. Tenders for the city's gas streetlights had finished, and construction machinery now filled every main thoroughfare.
As for shopping malls, amusement parks, and hospitals, they were popping up like mushrooms after rain in every bustling quarter of the city.
The railway line from Marseille to Lyon had managed to raise over 18 million francs in private investment with remarkable efficiency. Combined with funding from the Ministry of Transport, construction was expected to begin early next year.
By the time that line was finished, the Paris-Lyon railway would likely be complete as well.
At that point, one could take a train from Paris directly to the southernmost tip of France in less than thirty hours.
Simultaneously, merchant ships in the Mediterranean could unload their goods at Marseille to be sold in Paris via rail. This immense volume of trade would only further fuel the city's prosperity.
One could foresee that within seven or eight years—ten at the most—Marseille would evolve into one of the premier metropolises in Europe.
At noon the following day, after inspecting the new headquarters of the Bank of France, Joseph finally concluded his trip to the financial center and prepared to return to Paris.
As his carriage passed the castle-like headquarters of the Bank for European Settlements, an officer on horseback galloped up from behind.
The convoy halted. The officer produced a report and saluted Joseph. "Your Highness, this is an urgent dispatch from the General Staff Headquarters. They insisted it be delivered to you immediately."
Joseph opened the tube, looking puzzled. "What has happened?"
"It seems to be news from Eastern Europe, Your Highness."
Joseph's eyes swept quickly over the report, and he was instantly taken aback.
The text read: In early December, the Polish Minsk Front broke through the Russian Dnieper River defense line across the board. They have occupied key positions such as Mstislavl and Vitebsk, and unexpectedly captured the Smolensk fortress ten days later.
Currently, five Polish divisions, totaling over 54,000 soldiers, have massed east of Smolensk.
Following orders from the Polish General Staff, they intend to launch a general offensive against an undefended Moscow as soon as their logistics are replenished.
A brief summary of the Polish operational plan was attached.
Essentially, two infantry divisions and four cavalry battalions of the Lithuanian Legion would strike north across the Western Dvina River to pin down Russian reinforcements rushing from Saint Petersburg to Moscow.
Meanwhile, Kościuszko would lead the main Polish force to sweep away the remaining enemies west of Moscow and capture the city by next spring.
After that, Poland would decide whether to accept a ceasefire based on the terms offered by the Russians.
Joseph immediately picked up the dispatch tube, carefully checking the wax seal and the stamp of the General Staff.
There were no issues.
This battle report was truly beyond his expectations.
While Russia had suffered greatly on the battlefields of the Anti-French Coalition, it was still a first-rate European power. It had not yet reached the point of suffering damaged sinews and broken bones.
Poland, driven by a thirst for vengeance, possessed high morale, but that could not change its nature as a weaker nation. In reality, Poland currently relied entirely on French aid to keep its soldiers from starving.
Yet, despite this disparity in strength, the Polish army was smashing through like bamboo and already threatening Moscow!
This was a level of glory that, in history, only Emperor Napoleon had achieved!
At the thought of Napoleon, however, Joseph's brow furrowed.
'No, something is definitely wrong here.'
While Kościuszko was courageous, strategic, and battle-hardened, his command ability—by the standards of French generals—was above average at best. He was at least three Berthiers away from matching Napoleon.
On the Russian side stood Kutuzov, Napoleon's old historical rival.
Theoretically, with comparable troop numbers, Kutuzov should have been able to make Kościuszko unable to find north.
Even accounting for low Russian morale and the interference of the Society of Happiness, the Russian army should not have collapsed so completely while fighting a defensive war.
After all, strategic defense was Kutuzov’s greatest strength.
Joseph gazed out the window, mentally sifting through every possibility.
Suddenly, as he recalled why Napoleon's Grand Army of hundreds of thousands had been decimated in Russia, his eyes narrowed.
Emperor Napoleon and the Poles of today shared one critical factor.
'It is the severe winter!'
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