Chapter 945: The Savior of Austria
In a villa three blocks away from the Palace of Versailles, recently purchased by a wealthy Dutch merchant, Hottinguer, a senior advisor to the French Foreign Minister, sat across from Schimmelpenninck with a look of practiced arrogance.
"Prime Minister," Hottinguer began, his tone smooth, "you must understand that this matter involves the stability of the entire Low Countries. His Excellency must coordinate with several other cabinet ministers before there is even a hope of persuading the Crown Prince."
Schimmelpenninck nodded repeatedly, his expression eager. "I am deeply grateful for Talleyrand—ah, for His Excellency’s selfless assistance. I assure you, I will not let his efforts go unrewarded."
Hottinguer picked up a pen from the desk and scribbled a single line on a slip of paper. "Three hundred thousand francs. Send it to this address, and the situation will take a turn for the better."
Schimmelpenninck froze for a heartbeat, but he quickly steeled himself and nodded. "Very well. I will see to it immediately. Please convey my deepest gratitude to His Excellency."
"I shall," Hottinguer replied.
As he stepped into his carriage, a satisfied smile played across Hottinguer's lips.
Three days later.
The "consultation fee" had been paid, and Schimmelpenninck received word from Hottinguer as promised. Under the "advice" of the Foreign Minister, the Crown Prince had agreed to restrain the Flemish people. This would allow the Dutch Parliament to withdraw its border troops and redeploy them to suppress the noble rebellion.
In truth, Joseph had decided on this course of action long ago and had simply instructed Talleyrand to inform the Dutch. The Foreign Minister, however, had delayed the announcement just long enough to pocket a tidy sum of three hundred thousand francs.
Hottinguer rose to leave, but as he reached the door, he paused and turned back casually. "By the way, Prime Minister, the Crown Prince has taken quite an interest in the International Maritime Convention recently proposed by the Danes. If the Netherlands were to join, it would surely please him."
Schimmelpenninck responded instantly, "I am very grateful for the reminder. I will present the proposal to Parliament the moment I return."
...
Vienna.
Schönbrunn Palace.
Franz II glared at Cobentzel, his voice rising into a furious roar. "Those damned profiteers! The most rapacious vampires could serve as their apprentices!
"Ten years of salt tax from Bohemia and the Ore Mountains? They might as well just come to Schönbrunn and rob me outright!"
Cobentzel’s expression was one of utter helplessness.
"Your Majesty, the financial world is terrified that Prussia is about to declare war on us. Mr. Rothschild’s asking price is already the lowest we could find."
He didn't dare mention that bankers across the German states believed Austria was headed for a crushing defeat at the hands of the Prussians, especially since the domestic rebellions had yet to be fully quelled.
Under such circumstances, lending to the Emperor was seen as a gamble that would likely end in total loss. Consequently, they demanded substantial collateral.
Franz II gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. While he loathed being extorted by capitalists, he couldn't forget the report Archduke Charles had sent just days ago.
The Ottomans were stirring. A massive force was massing in Northern Bulgaria, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
The Emperor suspected a secret understanding between the Ottomans and the Prussians, a plan to tear his empire apart from both north and south simultaneously.
At the moment, his empire was in no condition to prepare for war. Archduke Charles’s army, currently busy suppressing internal revolts, was only receiving a third of its pay. If war broke out now, surrender would be the only option.
He had intended to borrow three million florins from moneylenders to procure military supplies, only to be told he had to mortgage a decade’s worth of salt taxes from two major regions.
He knew he would likely be unable to repay the debt on time, which meant he was essentially selling the salt taxes of those regions for a mere three million.
It was a disastrous deal.
But the pressure was insurmountable. After venting his rage, he closed his eyes and waved a hand dismissively at his Minister of State.
"Go, tell that shark he can have what he wants. Just bring me the gold coins immediately..."
Before Cobentzel could reply, the Emperor’s attendant hurried in, leading Count Mercy.
Cobentzel looked surprised. "You've returned already?"
Mercy ignored him, bowing excitedly to Franz II. "Your Majesty, wonderful news! I have spoken with the Queen of France. She has agreed to grant our country a loan of thirteen million francs at an interest rate of only sixteen percent!"
In reality, Joseph had simply had Marie Antoinette convey his decision to the Count, rather than Mercy "persuading" anyone.
'It's a good way to let Mother shine in front of her family and earn some gratitude,' Joseph had thought.
Franz II bolted upright from his chair. "Is this true?!"
"Absolutely certain, Your Majesty."
A look of wild, desperate joy washed over Franz II’s face. "Excellent! Truly excellent! It seems my aunt still holds some affection for her kin.
"Ha! To hell with that damned profiteer!"
He pointed toward the Minister of State. "Count Cobentzel, take this money and prepare logistical supplies at once. Have them shipped to Liegnitz."
Cobentzel bowed. "At once, Your Majesty!"
However, Mercy reached out to stop him, turning back to Franz II.
"Your Majesty, the Queen of France also asked me to convey a message. She understands that the Empire must avoid the disaster of a two-front war.
"To that end, she will find a way to ensure the Prussians delay any offensive until after July.
"Before then, we must move swiftly to suppress the rebellions and defeat the Ottomans. Only then can we concentrate our forces on the defense of Silesia."
Franz II’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly. "Oh, my dearest aunt... she... she has truly saved all of Austria. Lord, I feel wretched for the bitter things I said about her earlier..."
Cobentzel, ever the pragmatist, looked at Mercy with skepticism. "But how do the French intend to stall Prussia? Are they sending troops to Silesia?"
"She did not share the specifics of the plan with me," Count Mercy admitted. "But at this point, we can only trust that she can do it.
"After all, things couldn't possibly get any worse, could they?"
Cobentzel fell silent.
Franz II turned urgently to his attendant. "Go and fetch the Marquis of Becerelar. Quickly!"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Count Mercy spoke up once more. "Your Majesty, there is one more thing. The Queen mentioned that she hopes you will issue a decree for the Holy Roman Empire to join the International Maritime Convention."
"The International Maritime Convention? What is that?"
"An organization initiated by the Danes to standardize maritime rights," Mercy explained, outlining the convention's primary goals.
Standing nearby, Cobentzel narrowed his eyes. "This convention is clearly aimed at the British."
Franz II let out a cold snort. "And what of it? Those wretched British cast us aside like a worn-out boot when it suited them.
"We have no reason to care what they think now!
"I believe we can fully support this Maritime Convention."
His quick agreement was partially fueled by a desire for petty revenge against Britain, but mostly, it was simply an offer he couldn't refuse. Joining a convention that had almost no impact on landlocked Austria was a small price to pay to avoid surrender to the Ottomans and Prussians.
Comments