Chapter 865: Reminiscing about the Roman Era
Despite his role as the Minister of Finance, Brienne showed no trace of concern over the staggering expenditures. Instead, he appeared quite exhilarated. "Military spending is indeed reaching unprecedented heights, Your Highness, but I believe it is an absolute necessity."
"I have consulted with the Duke of Broglie, and we both agree that if the campaign continues at this pace, we could potentially achieve a total conquest of the German territories within two years—perhaps even eighteen months!"
"Our armies will eventually reach the Vistula River..."
Joseph immediately pressed a hand to his forehead. The Vistula was already at the Polish border. Was the Chief Minister actually planning to swallow Western and Central Europe in one giant gulp?
He cast an inquiring glance toward Mirabeau and Vergniaud.
To his surprise, both men nodded in immediate agreement.
Joseph couldn't help but let out a long, slow sigh.
Having spent so much time with the troops lately, he had assumed this feverish lust for war was confined to the military. It now seemed the French Cabinet had also been intoxicated by the recent string of brilliant victories.
'France truly is a martial nation,' he mused.
However, Joseph knew all too well that the doctrine of "victory through military might alone" was a perilous path.
He looked at Brienne with a stern expression and asked, "And why, exactly, should we occupy the entirety of Germany?"
"Why?" Brienne blinked, taken aback. He answered as if the conclusion were self-evident. "Our armies are invincible, Your Highness. This is the perfect opportunity to let the glory of France shine across the whole of Europe!"
Joseph shook his head slightly. "Do you believe our national strength is sufficient to sustain such an endeavor?"
"Of course..."
Joseph cut him off. "No, Archbishop Brienne. It is nowhere near enough."
"I have no doubt that if we exerted the full power of our nation, our heroic soldiers could defeat every major rival on the continent, marching until they occupied Berlin and Vienna."
A flash of wild excitement crossed the faces of Brienne and the others, only to be dampened as the Crown Prince’s tone shifted.
"But that is not what we need right now."
"Always remember that in the competition between nations, war is only one deciding factor. Politics, economics, and culture collectively determine the ultimate victor."
"What we desire is true territory—provinces that identify as French and remain loyal to the King of France—not a collection of 'problem regions' plagued by constant insurrection."
"Occupying Germany would only result in our national treasury being bled dry just to maintain order in the occupied zones. Please do not forget that even before this, the sheer scale of the war has nearly exhausted our resources."
"There is only one eventual outcome: uprisings would collapse our finances, and we would be forced to withdraw in disgrace."
Joseph left one crucial point unspoken: such an occupation would accelerate German national awakening, eventually leading to a unified Germany.
History had proven that a unified Germany would become a nightmare for France for over a century, repeatedly shattering France’s most vital opportunities for development.
Brienne and Mirabeau exchanged looks, feeling a mix of confusion and reluctance. Brienne asked, "Your Highness, but currently, General Masséna's forces are moving toward Switzerland to strike at Bavaria."
"General Berthier has massed heavy forces at Koblenz, ready to cross the Rhine and occupy North Rhine at a moment's notice. Meanwhile, Napoleon's legions are fiercely assaulting Mantua..."
"All these armies are advancing according to your orders. Does this not signify a full-scale offensive against Germany?"
Joseph couldn't help but chuckle, waving a hand dismissively. "I am afraid you have misunderstood my strategic intent."
He gestured for Eman to bring a map and spread it across the table. His finger traced a line down the Rhine River. "Natural borders, gentlemen. That is our current and most pragmatic objective."
The "Natural Borders Theory" suggested that the ideal boundaries for France were those defined by nature in every direction.
To the south, the Pyrenees Mountains; to the east, the Alps; to the west, the long coastline.
And to the north, the long stretch of the Rhine River.
The northern frontier of France consisted mostly of plains, which was why, historically, it had been so difficult for France to defend against enemies coming from that direction.
Only by securing the west bank of the Rhine could they use the river as a defensive barrier, effectively solving the vulnerability of the northern border.
For over a century, French statesmen had argued that the Rhine was the boundary intended for France by nature itself.
Mirabeau interjected, "Your Highness, we have already taken the west bank of the Rhine."
"Only occupied it," Joseph corrected him. "We have not truly acquired it yet."
He looked at his ministers. "In the coming years, our nation's core mission is to integrate the Rhineland into France."
"The offensive into Bavaria and the deployment at Koblenz are both measures to ensure the security of the Rhineland."
"I will discuss this in further detail during the cabinet meeting the day after tomorrow."
"As for Northern Italy, our primary goal is to increase our control and squeeze Austria out completely."
"Of course, before that happens, Mantua will serve as a trap to continuously bleed the Austrian forces dry."
Brienne still struggled with the idea. "Your Highness, are we truly to stop forever at the west bank of the Rhine?"
Joseph looked at the vast expanse of the European continent on the map and smiled. "Once the Rhineland serves as a forward base for our nation, once Italy becomes our backyard, once we possess all of North Africa, and once our national strength looks down upon all of Europe... perhaps then we might consider it."
A thought suddenly occurred to him. If that day ever truly came, the territories under French control—excluding the Ottoman lands—would bear a striking resemblance to the height of the Roman Empire.
Northern Italy.
The Mantua Fortress.
Beaulieu watched as the countless French troops receded like a ebbing tide, so moved that he nearly broke into tears.
He had been besieged in this hellish place by Napoleon for over a month. Every day, he had been forced to eat the fortress's stores of salted meat and drink sour wine, all while enduring the relentless thunder of French cannons. Several times, he had been on the verge of surrendering the fortress.
Fortunately, Wurmser’s army had finally broken through the French lines and arrived to relieve them.
That wretched Napoleon was at least sensible enough not to dare face the combined force. Wurmser brought over thirty thousand men, and the Emperor had redirected another ten thousand troops from the Swiss front. Combined with the Argentau corps that had retreated to the fortress and the various remnants Beaulieu had gathered, their total strength had reached seventy thousand.
Napoleon had brought only fifty thousand men, along with ten thousand low-quality Sardinian troops, and he had been forced to detach more than half of them to Verona to block the Imperial reinforcements.
However, General Wurmser had been clever enough to divide his forces into three columns, quickly bypassing Verona and rendering the French forces to the north useless.
Under the threat of Wurmser’s army, the twenty-five thousand French troops near Mantua had retreated in short order.
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