Chapter 788: My Name Is Bonaparte!
Chapter 789: My Name Is Bonaparte!
Giuseppina continued to nod. "Yes, that painting is currently in the Basilica of San Lorenzo. If you like it..."
After Napoleon reeled off eight or nine top-tier artworks and received Giuseppina's promise to "gift" them, his face finally broke into a radiant smile. He raised his glass, gesturing to the Milanese nobles. "To the valiant soldiers of France!"
The crowd promptly rose, raising their glasses, and declared in unison, "To the valiant soldiers of France!"
Napoleon suddenly recalled something and spoke again, his voice ringing out louder. "To His Great Majesty the King! To the 'Son of Divine Favor'!"
The hundred-plus nobles in the hall repeated the toast, then drank the wine from their glasses.
Once Napoleon was seated, a pockmarked noble to his left bowed obsequiously to him. "Colonel Buonaparte, I presume you must have Italian ancestry. That is why Milan is destined to be liberated by you!"
Napoleon frowned. "Italian ancestry? Why do you say that?"
The noble clearly didn't notice the change in his expression and continued to ingratiate himself. "'Buonaparte,' you see, what a typically Italian surname that is. Anyone from the Apennine Peninsula would know at once that you're one of us."
A chorus of agreement immediately rippled through the room. The Milanese nobles considered calling someone "one of us" a very intimate and flattering gesture.
However, Napoleon's expression darkened, and he shook his head stiffly. "No, I am French. I have not the slightest trace of Italian ancestry."
Yes, he was no longer that Corsican revanchist.
Now, he had only one identity: a high-ranking French general, who had fought alongside His Royal Highness the Crown Prince in the Southern Netherlands and led the great French army to sweep through Lombardy, earning unparalleled glory as a Frenchman!
'Italian ancestry'?
'Those were merely weaklings he had conquered, people who dared not utter a peep as he demanded their wealth.'
'How could he possibly be associated with such weaklings?'
The noble, whose face bore the scars of smallpox, still hadn't caught on. He continued with a forced smile, "How can that be? Your surname sounds exactly like—"
Napoleon slammed his wine glass onto the table with a resounding thud. "I will not repeat myself! I am French."
The Milanese nobles immediately looked at each other in dismay, lowering their heads and daring not to speak further. Even the orchestra, startled, ceased their playing, and the great hall fell silent in an instant.
Giuseppina quickly stepped in to smooth things over. "Colonel Buonaparte, please don't be angry. Count Gonella meant no offense. Oh, he also donated 100,000 francs to your army, which clearly shows his sincerity."
Gonella, drenched in cold sweat from fright, nodded frantically. "I—I apologize for my imprudence. Oh, 100,000 francs, yes, I donated 100,000..."
He had actually only donated 8,000 francs, but at that moment, he dared not say another word. Let it be 100,000, as long as it appeased Colonel Buonaparte's anger.
Only then did Napoleon's expression soften slightly. He picked up his glass and nodded to Giuseppina.
Soothing music resumed in the hall.
After the banquet concluded, Napoleon did not attend the subsequent ball. Citing urgent military duties, he returned to his command post, set up in Baron Tremeloni's villa.
Upon entering his office, he immediately began writing an application to change his surname from "Buonaparte" to the more French-sounding "Bonaparte."
He was now the highest-ranking member of the Buonaparte family; his brothers all relied on him for their futures, so if he decided to change his surname, no one would dare object.
Napoleon finished writing the application, handed it to a secretary for refinement, and then personally transcribed two copies. He instructed an attendant to deliver one to the Royal Committee at Versailles, the body responsible for noble identities, and the other to the Minister of Registry.
Having done all this, he let out a contented sigh.
'From now on, he would be a true Frenchman!'
The next day, the legion's principal generals gathered at headquarters for a strategy meeting.
Victor first reported on the clearing of Austrian remnants within Milan – over 200 people had been arrested, with most Austrians of any standing thrown into prison, and arrests were ongoing.
After he finished, Marmont promptly reminded him, "Commander, we must proceed to Genoa as quickly as possible. General Dumouriez has been besieged by the enemy for over a month now..."
Napoleon merely listened, offering neither agreement nor disagreement.
In truth, he had already received two urgent pleas for help from Dumouriez, stating that the situation in Genoa was critical.
"Commander?"
Marmont was about to speak further, but Napoleon raised a hand, cutting him off. "Our most important task right now is to clear out the remaining enemy forces in Lombardy as quickly as possible. Otherwise, if we march south, our rear could be cut off at any moment."
'True, after Beaulieu's escape, the combined Austrian forces in the entire Lombardy region amounted to fewer than two thousand soldiers across several cities, all of whom were responsible for local security and possessed virtually no field combat capabilities.'
'However, when Napoleon was reluctant to relieve Genoa, these very forces became a serious threat.'
Marmont: "But..."
Napoleon continued, "General Dumouriez has extensive command experience. The Austrians cannot possibly defeat him so quickly.
"Once we have complete control of Lombardy, we can establish defensive lines along the Po River, severing the connection between Western Italy and Austria."
Melas's main forces were currently concentrated around Genoa, meaning Napoleon had effectively outflanked them on a larger scale by utilizing Lombardy and the Alps.
"Furthermore, Melas will surely abandon Genoa and opt for a decisive battle with us. When that happens, General Dumouriez's pressure will naturally disappear."
Napoleon gave his subordinates no chance to question him. He commanded, "Captain Grouchy, immediately lead two cavalry squadrons to Varese.
"Major Marmont, lead the Third Infantry Regiment to seize Como and Bergamo.
"Melas's reinforcements will arrive in Milan in a week at the earliest. You must complete your objectives and return before then."
"Yes, Commander!"
...
While Napoleon prepared his surprise attack on Milan, Genoa was locked in a bitter struggle.
Inside the French front-line command post, Dumouriez rubbed his ears, numb from the cannon fire, and shouted to a nearby staff officer, "Is there still no news from Colonel Buonaparte?"
The officer shouted back just as loudly, "None yet, General! I've sent three groups of men to slip out of the enemy's encirclement, but we haven't heard anything back."
The ground suddenly trembled. A heavy artillery shell must have landed near the command post. The British had transported several 24-pounder cannons to Melas by sea, and their extremely long range posed a massive threat to Genoa's defenses.
Dumouriez seemed accustomed to it. He bellowed, "How much longer can our food and ammunition last?"
"Shells and gunpowder are sufficient for another half-month, but our food supply is down to less than a week."
CRITICAL ERROR: CHAPTER 791 NOT TRANSLATED - ORIGINAL TEXT RETAINED
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