Chapter 546: Punishing Napoleon
Half a month later.
Napoleon's 17-year-old younger brother, Lucien Buonaparte, rushed back to Corsica from Paris to participate in the by-election for Corsican councilors—the assembly had suddenly opened up fourteen seats, requiring new elections.
As expected, Lucien Buonaparte was elected councilor for the Sota District by a wide margin. Even though he had almost never visited the area, his older brother's strong maneuvering, coupled with the support of Governor Count Buttafuoco, made his election a simple matter.
In fact, nearly all fourteen by-election seats fell into the hands of candidates designated by Napoleon and the Governor.
...
Second floor of the Tuileries Palace.
Joseph glanced at the report on the Corsican situation that Brienne had just delivered, and couldn't help but rub his temples wearily.
He knew Napoleon was a man of action, bold and disruptive, which was why he had sent him to Corsica to handle the issues there. Yet, he hadn't expected Napoleon to nearly cause an earthquake.
Napoleon's actions were nothing short of a warlord's, completely disregarding the law! Given slightly more power than in history, he dared to stir up several times more trouble.
Joseph sighed, then instructed Brienne:
"Please draft a disciplinary order—Lieutenant Colonel Buonaparte must be punished for besieging the assembly hall in an extremely inappropriate manner. Revoke his position as acting commander of the Corsican garrison. However, as there is no suitable replacement for now, he will continue to command the garrison."
"Yes, Your Highness."
After speaking, Joseph couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing—he was likely the first person in history to discipline Napoleon. In his previous timeline, this would have been utterly unimaginable.
He hoped this would temper Napoleon's arrogant and rebellious nature, allowing him to better utilize the power of that sharp sword in the future.
Joseph then considered Corsica's current situation. 'Without destruction, there can be no construction.' Now that the old order had been broken, it was time to build. Without Paoli's manipulations, if the Corsican people could live in peace and prosperity, who would willingly risk their lives for separatism?
But that region was truly difficult to develop, lacking both resources and agriculture.
He pondered for a moment and quickly recalled a certain small island from a later era, whose model might be applicable.
Therefore, he looked at Brienne and asked, "Archbishop, I intend to transform Corsica into a tourist destination. What do you think?"
The Chief Minister considered this, then nodded, "I believe it's entirely feasible, Your Highness. I once visited there; the sunlight is very pleasant, and the seafood and ham taste excellent. However, the local residents don't seem particularly refined."
"Then the Church will need to take the trouble to educate them," Joseph replied. "After you return, work with Monsieur Bailly on a plan. This should include establishing regular ferry services from Marseille to Calvi, with the government subsidizing some of the tickets to attract more visitors.
"Additionally, we'll need to build new restaurants, massage parlors, amusement parks there..."
Brienne promptly added, "And brothels, Your Highness."
"Cough, that's up to you."
...
Downstream on the River Thames.
London Port.
Before Marquis Wellesley even disembarked, he spotted the bustling welcoming committee on shore, and in front of the crowd, the Royal Band in their crisp red uniforms.
As his gaze swept over a young man in the center of the dock, surrounded by officials, a smile immediately appeared on his face.
That man was none other than the current British Prime Minister, William Pitt Junior—referred to as Pitt the Younger to distinguish him from his father.
The ferry "Martha" gently docked. The gangplank was lowered. Amidst the boisterous music, Wellesley stepped onto British soil and immediately strode towards Prime Minister Pitt.
Pitt, smiling, came forward to greet him. Before Wellesley could even bow, Pitt enveloped him in a warm embrace and declared loudly:
"Arthur, do you know? All of London is celebrating your glorious victory in the Far East. Your brilliant command and heroic combat have stabilized the very foundations of this nation!"
Wellesley showed no pride at receiving such praise; instead, a flicker of awkwardness crossed his eyes.
He patted his old friend's back, then stepped back and insisted on bowing as per custom:
"Thank you for coming to meet me. I'm very pleased."
He scanned the grand scene around them and chuckled wryly, "I had thought... I wouldn't receive such an honor."
"Why would you think that? You are a victorious general, a hero returned!"
Seeing Wellesley's head bowed, as if deep in thought, Pitt waved to the crowds on both sides on his behalf, then skipped the speeches and directly ushered him into a carriage.
"Is that damnable malaria still tormenting you?" William Pitt Junior asked, looking at his old friend with concern. "You don't seem to be in high spirits."
Marquis Wellesley still kept his head down, speaking dejectedly, "You know, there was no real triumph. And I didn't defeat that Indian native."
"No, you achieved a great victory," William Pitt Junior immediately corrected him. "All of Britain needs your victory. The public doesn't appreciate the cold, hard truth."ranøßeЅ
"Three million Pound Sterling, nearly a thousand casualties," Wellesley shook his head repeatedly. "Ultimately, it only gained us a bit of worthless land and the derision of Mysore."
William Pitt Junior also sighed, patting his shoulder. "Look on the bright side. At the very least, you stabilized our sphere of influence in the Far East."
"The French!" Marquis Wellesley suddenly lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot, and he ground out, "It's all those damned Frenchmen!
"The Mysore soldiers I captured said they had all been trained by Lafayette. That fellow even drew up a complete battle plan for Tipu.
"I even suspect those excellent cannons Tipu had were supplied by the French!"
He clenched his fist, his voice a low growl, "If not for the French, I could have utterly crushed Mysore, occupied Seringapatam, and then forced Tipu to pay several million Pound Sterling in reparations to reclaim it. The entire Indian Peninsula would have trembled before us and obediently offered us everything we desired!
"We must make those damned French bastards pay the price!"
William Pitt Junior slowly nodded. "Your political instincts are still as sharp as ever. In fact, the entire cabinet currently holds the exact same opinion as you. I'm preparing to submit this as the core of the nation's future strategy to His Majesty the King very soon."
Wellesley was slightly startled. "What do you mean by 'exact same opinion'?"
"Our stance towards France," William Pitt Junior said, his gaze chilling. "Do you know France's trade volume last year? It has already surpassed ours.
"A million Pound Sterling, or even more, was earned from us. That accursed Eden Treaty! We were deceived!
"Many of France's industries have caught up to ours in the past two years, yet we are still bound by the treaty's low tariffs, watching French goods flood our market."
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