Chapter 391: The Affable Māori
Joseph raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are the British that unyielding?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Archbishop Talleyrand affirmed. "Perhaps we should increase our investment in Mysore, make the British suffer a little more, and then they might return to the negotiating table."
Joseph's bottom line for negotiations was for Britain to recognize French influence in Algiers, Tunisia, and Tripoli.
Algiers was a crucial grain-producing region, several times the size of Tunisia, making it the largest valuable territory in North Africa.
Tripoli, meanwhile, bordered Egypt, laying important groundwork for the future Suez Canal.
Historically, Emperor Napoleon had briefly set foot in Egypt, but due to a weak foundation in North Africa and a floundering navy, he ultimately lost the prime opportunity to threaten Britain by connecting the Suez Canal.
Of course, if France could acquire Caribbean islands, Tripoli could temporarily be put aside. Sugarcane was a luxury item at the time, and Caribbean islands, capable of vast sugarcane production, held immense value.
Joseph pondered for a moment, then waved his hand. "No, Archbishop Talleyrand, our actions in India need to scale back."
"Ah? Why is that?"
Not only would Britain fight tooth and nail for India, but a Mysore that conquered the entire Indian Peninsula, unchecked by Britain, would also not serve French interests. With Tipu Sultan's personal capabilities and Mysore's exposure to European technology, such a conquest was highly plausible.
A powerful Indian Empire would inevitably expand north, encroaching upon Central Asia, which would bring enormous trouble to all of Europe. Therefore, it was best for India to remain fragmented, like scattered stars, as it was now.
"What we need to do is make the British pay a higher cost," Joseph continued. "The cost of offense is far greater than defense.
"Have Marquis Lafayette establish defenses as quickly as possible, letting the British attack. At the same time, he should destroy British supplies whenever possible. Military expenditures will be a harsh lesson for the British."
In reality, there was another crucial reason for his decision—Mysore simply couldn't defeat Britain.
After all, Britain was still the world's leading power. Although Mysore's surprise attacks had achieved some results, Britain was now getting serious.
Given Mysore's strength, continuing a fierce offensive would make it easy for the British to seize an opportunity and annihilate them.
A step-by-step defense, designed to severely deplete British military funds, was Tipu Sultan's most accurate strategy. Moreover, Joseph had prepared a "secret weapon" for him. By his calculations, those individuals should have already arrived in India.
Joseph then remembered another matter and instructed Talleyrand, "Oh, by the way, given British habits, they are likely to stir up trouble in the Southern Netherlands. You need to make a trip to the German States, as well as the countries of Northern and Eastern Europe, as quickly as possible, to inform their Kings..."
India.
Outside the port of Mangalore in northwestern Mysore, a small schooner swiftly sailed in.
The ship flew the Russian flag, and its hull bore the emblem of the Gemini Trading Company.
On deck, several dark-skinned, powerfully built men, their faces covered in intricate tattoos, gazed at the Mysore defense forces lined up to greet them on the dock.
One of the men, a middle-aged individual with a waist as thick as a barrel, pointed towards the distant Islamic-style buildings and spoke in an obscure, incomprehensible language.
A younger man beside him replied in halting French, "Uncle Māgunus, Monsieur Dufresne asked us to speak French as much as possible. Have you forgotten again?"
"Oh, yes." Māgunus offered an apologetic smile and spoke in clumsy French. "Those houses are truly peculiar. Even more peculiar than the ones the development team built in our town. But they are beautiful."
The "development team" he referred to was the pioneering expedition that had accompanied Dufresne to New Zealand.
After receiving a grant of land from the Māori, they had renamed themselves the development team and began building a settlement there.
With the assistance of a large, almost free Māori workforce—the Māori had an excellent relationship with them, often working for a day just to enjoy a few cups of wine and listen to stories told by the development team members.
Although the development team members had finished recounting all of their remembered stories from "Battle Through the Heavens" and "Lord of the Mysteries" after two and a half months, and had to resort to fabricating the rest of the plot, the Māori still listened with keen interest.
Many Māori had also learned French through listening to these stories.
Especially after the first wool harvest this year, the Māori who received their wages were overjoyed—the French paid them in large quantities of iron farm tools, horses, and beautiful clothes, items considered luxuries that could be passed down for generations in any Māori tribe.
Upon hearing the news, the Māori tribes that had not previously cooperated with the development team flocked to them, eager to raise sheep for the French, even offering to lower their remuneration.
Dufresne, being honorable, maintained the previous compensation, as it was already very low and wouldn't save much more. He signed sheep-rearing agreements with even more Māori tribes.
After more than half a year of operations, sheep now roamed most areas of New Zealand's North Island.
The only factor limiting the size of New Zealand's sheep population had become their breeding speed.
As soon as a lamb was born, it would be eagerly "adopted" by the Māori, who cared for it meticulously. Coupled with New Zealand's abundant pastures and a climate extremely suitable for sheep, the wool yield here was nearly 20 percent higher than their British "cousins"!
On the ship's deck, another tall, young Māori man tugged at his jacket—he was clearly unaccustomed to wearing fully enclosed clothing all day—and expressed his concern to Māgunus, "Lord Māgunus, the Pimāki people have been restless lately. If they come to our tribe for revenge while we are away from home..."
The Pimāki he spoke of referred to New Zealand's South Island. Historically, the North Island often raided the South Island, but the latter would also gather strength to counterattack.
Māgunus chuckled. "Don't worry, Nikau. Monsieur Dufresne is calling on all tribes to sign a 'Joint Declaration.' From now on, conflicts between tribes will be settled by the 'Tribal Confederation Council.'
"Dufresne had already gone to the South Island before we set off. I imagine the Waitaha tribe will also join the Joint Declaration."
Nikau remained unconvinced. "But what if the Waitaha refuse?"
"Hmph," Māgunus scoffed. "To refuse Monsieur Dufresne is to be an enemy of all tribes. Moreover, they would lose the opportunity to raise sheep as a result.
"Nikau, do you think they would still attack Yamotu?"
Yamotu was the name of their tribal settlement.
Upon hearing "they won't be allowed to raise sheep," the young man immediately nodded with confidence. "Then they certainly wouldn't."
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