Chapter 714: Polish-Swedish-Ottoman Alliance
Joseph nodded. "This is our nation's latest disinfectant. Besides being affordable, it's also easier to transport, and, soldiers won't pilfer it for drink."
"As for tents and uniforms, our nation can also produce them for you at cost."
"This is truly excellent!" Radziwiłł exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "If we forego the expensive medical alcohol, approximately 2 million francs should be sufficient to cover the costs."
"Our nation can offset the vast majority of the cost with grain."
Poland's autumn harvest was quite decent this year; the vast plains of Eastern Europe were a massive granary.
Radziwiłł quietly added, "The remaining sum should be manageable if we disband the mercenaries in Krakow."
Joseph let out a silent sigh.
Poland was facing wars on multiple fronts, and even 2 million francs represented a tremendous burden for them. Forcing out such a large sum of money could detrimentally impact their war effort.
A thought struck him: perhaps Poland could secure funding from other nations.
It was time to capitalize on this geopolitical leverage as much as possible, thereby providing greater support for their armed forces.
So, who would be most invested in Poland's geopolitical significance?
Joseph's eyes lit up, and he turned to Radziwiłł. "You could try seeking loans from the Ottoman Empire or Sweden."
Radziwiłł paused, then replied, "Thank you for your suggestion, Your Highness, but I believe it would bear no fruit.
"The Ottoman Empire, bowing to Russian threats, has already abandoned its traditional friendship with our country.
"And Sweden, as you know, our two nations' relationship has always been quite strained."
Joseph explained, "You mustn't forget that Poland is currently engaging 120,000 Russian troops and has resisted for over two months.
"Sweden and the Ottomans must both have realized Poland's vital role—its role, that is, in confronting Russia.
"Poland and they share a very consistent objective when it comes to dealing with Russia.
"Perhaps you can try to put aside your grievances with Sweden, confront Russia together, and even form a Polish-Swedish-Ottoman alliance!"
In the early eighteenth century, King Charles XII of Sweden had occupied more than half of Poland, including Warsaw, and the two countries had harbored a grudge ever since.
However, for nearly a century afterward, no conflicts ever erupted between Poland and Sweden.
Sweden had suffered significantly in the Seventh Russo-Swedish War, and if they could retaliate against Russia, they would undoubtedly be very eager.
And the Ottoman Empire, it went without saying, having successively lost strategic strongholds like Crimea and Ochakov, seethed with even greater hatred for Russia.
Previously, both nations had choked under the pressure of the Russian military, forced to retreat. But now, Poland had held off Russia on its own, which gave them room to reconsider their stance.
Keep in mind that the total field forces mobilized by Russia would not exceed 140,000 men, 120,000 of whom were bogged down in Poland.
If Sweden and the Ottoman Empire were to simultaneously launch an offensive against Russia, Catherine II would have no forces left to deploy.
The more Radziwiłł considered it, the more he realized the French Crown Prince's words held merit.
A moment later, he bowed respectfully to Joseph, a hand placed over his heart, saying, "Your Highness, you truly are Europe's most brilliant strategist! I will certainly relay your proposal to Count Potocki."
Joseph knew that the three nations—Poland, Sweden, and the Ottomans—had tremendous political and geopolitical differences, making it difficult for them to form a true allied force to attack Russia. But as long as they supported each other, they could exert tremendous strategic pressure on Russia, compelling it to abandon its invasion of Poland.
After discussing further details of the "Polish-Swedish-Ottoman Alliance," Radziwiłł expressed his profound gratitude once more to the French Crown Prince, then rose to take his leave.
Joseph then remembered another thing, and beckoned to him. "Oh, I've just established a military medical academy.
"After you return, you can select a number of military physicians, as well as women interested in medical care, to come here for training.
"Of course, these people will all come to Paris under the guise of tourists."
"Heartfelt gratitude, esteemed Crown Prince."
When Joseph returned to Versailles, he saw Count Herriot trembling at the edge of the corridor, bowing deeply from afar, nearly touching his head to the floor, in deference to him.
Joseph strode past, merely casting a cold glance his way, without acknowledging him.
Count Herriot shuddered, silently damning his utterly foolish daughter a hundred times over.
Although Annemarie Herriot had been exiled to Timbuktu—a province on Tripoli's easternmost border with the desert, setting a new record for the farthest exile of a noblewoman—yet when Count Herriot learned that the Crown Prince's lady-in-waiting was critically ill from her recent fall into the water, he felt as if plunged into an icy abyss.
Count Herriot had no choice but to follow all the way to the Crown Prince's bedchamber, and stood in the corridor for another four or five hours, finally seeing the Crown Prince's aide approach him.
He hurriedly stepped forward to bow, but heard Eman coldly say, "His Highness does not wish to see you. However, Mademoiselle Delvaux's treatment this time incurred immense medical costs, which must be paid by the Herriot family. 300,000 francs."
Count Herriot faltered, but immediately bowed profusely, saying, "Yes, yes, I'll arrange the funds at once!"
...
The Papal States.
Rome.
Beside an angel statue, Mort Schmitz rested a hand on his brow, glanced at the bright sun, and nodded with satisfaction. 'Everything in the world is illuminated with such clarity. Excellent.'
St. Peter's Basilica Square opposite was still quite empty, with only the Swiss Guard, in orderly formations, periodically patrolling the perimeter.
Schmitz felt that simply standing there would draw too much attention, so he took out the newspaper he'd brought from the inn, unfolded it, holding it up as a screen.
The headline on the front page read: "Austrian Army Has Essentially Occupied Sandomierz." The news content generally stated that Wurmser's army had advanced irresistibly, swiftly overwhelmed the Polish defenders, and captured the Sandomierz province.
He merely smiled, offering no comment.
Ever since the Pope's envoy lied in Vienna, denying the Crusader Holy War, the Austrian army's morale had indeed recovered—the soldiers, at least, no longer had to fear that this war would add to their suffering in purgatory.
However, they still failed to break through the Polish Tarnowskie Góry defense line, even though there were just over 10,000 defenders there.
To reduce domestic pressure, His Imperial Majesty ordered Wurmser to temporarily abandon Krakow and instead attack the lightly defended Sandomierz.
He had achieved his objective.
Sandomierz was occupied, but the advance ended there.
Sandomierz bordered the San River to the west, leaving no further possibility of advancing deeper into Polish territory.
'A cursed war, indeed, destined for ill fortune,' Schmitz mused. Then, from St. Peter's Basilica Square, he heard the distinct peal of bells.
He immediately looked up, his expression calm but utterly resolute, and whispered to himself, 'It's finally beginning.'
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