The Radiant Republic

At his core, André was a proud and arrogant man, an elegant yet stubborn dictator. A man of such high standing naturally could not tolerate being slighted or looked down upon by others. Therefore, André had to make the two Austrian envoys believe that he was the true master of these peace negotiations, and that everything must proceed at his pace.

André believed he had shown immense respect for the House of Habsburg, which had ruled the Holy Roman Empire for over three hundred and fifty years. He had let professionals like Talleyrand negotiate with their representatives and had tolerated the Viennese envoys' stalling tactics for two weeks. However, these arrogant Austrians showed no respect for the victor; they lacked the humility and awe that defeated losers ought to possess. The Prussians, on the other hand, were refreshingly straightforward—a loss was a loss, without any dragging of feet.

Perhaps in the eyes of the Austrians, the nobility of one's bloodline far outweighed the power of guns and cannons. It was no wonder the French Enlightenment thinkers had once mocked the Habsburgs who ruled the Holy Roman Empire: relying on nothing but the wombs of women and centuries of political marriages to secure the imperial throne, while amassing titles like Grand-Duc of Austria, King of Bohemia, and King of Hungary. Yet, once Austria fell into decline, it would never be able to pull itself back together.

After venting the frustration in his heart, André felt a profound sense of relief. The two Austrian envoys before him, Comte de Rietberg and his young assistant, maintained a facade of composure, but their minds were entirely in turmoil, filled with astonishment and fear. In this clash of men and power, every single step was crucial to victory or defeat. André knew the two Germans already considered him a madman. But that was perfectly fine; only the paranoid survive—a golden rule even among descendants of German Jews.

"What is your name?" André took a step forward, deliberately fixing his gaze on the young envoy.

"I am Klemens Wenzel von Metternich, esteemed Marshal!" Metternich stood up, trembling as he answered, awkwardly averting his eyes to the side of the room. As a young diplomat with no political experience, Metternich did not yet possess the courage to lock eyes with a French Marshal who commanded tens of thousands of troops.

Oh, another historical acquaintance! André muttered to himself. He then pointed at the bewildered Comte de Rietberg standing next to Metternich and ordered with the undeniable authority of a superior:

"Monsieur Rietberg, your diplomatic mission ends here. I officially notify you to leave Brussels within twelve hours; otherwise, the military police will arrest you on charges of espionage. As for you, Monsieur Metternich, you will remain in Brussels as Vienna's Plenipotentiary representative to continue the peace talks with Monsieur Talleyrand.

"But let me make myself perfectly clear: if these peace talks do not produce the results I desire within forty-eight hours, the Army of the Rhine and the Army of the Moselle will, under my command, cross the Rhine. They will march through Baden, Württemberg, and the Duchy of Bavaria, advancing along the upper Danube to launch an offensive from the northwest of Austria!"

With that, André turned on his heel and left. Major Kellermann the Younger, who had been standing guard nearby, immediately summoned two sentries to escort the Austrian Comte out of the administrative palace. Since the man had been stripped of his diplomatic credentials, he would be deported immediately.

Upon walking out the door, André glared at Talleyrand, who was waiting outside but avoiding his gaze, and cursed under his breath, "That cunning cripple! He plays the good cop and leaves me to be the bad guy!"

There was no doubt that Talleyrand had secretly pocketed a substantial amount of political contributions from the German states. Nevertheless, as André's handpicked personal envoy, he had also achieved fruitful results. The German states east of the Rhine, led by Prussia, Bavaria, and Saxony, had signed peace agreements with André. These included the ransom of captured officers and soldiers, the payment of war reparations, and the amicable reduction of tariffs to develop bilateral and multilateral free trade.

The final clause regarding trade was specifically demanded by André. After all, the vast yet loosely connected German states—lying right on their doorstep with an area of five million nine hundred thousand square kilometers and a population exceeding forty million—were the ideal dumping ground for industrial goods and a prime source of raw materials for Andréan France, second only to the French homeland.

Furthermore, upon learning that André had no intention of going to war with the Netherlands in the short term, Talleyrand quickly reached a memorandum of understanding with the Dutch envoy. Both Rotterdam (the administrative capital of William V) and Amsterdam (the parliamentary capital) agreed to pay ten million francs in gold to secure the friendship of Andréan France and smooth over the unpleasant incidents at the Liège fortress and the Meuse River. The Dutch military had previously helped defend the Liège fortress and used merchant ships to secretly transport military supplies to the besieged Austrian army.

When he learned that the Dutch had so readily coughed up ten million francs as protection money, André's first instinct was to conquer those wealthy fat cats. After all, the war funds the French army had scraped together across all the Belgian cities hadn't even reached that figure. Of course, this unrealistic idea was nothing more than a passing fancy for André.

André was well aware of London's bottom line regarding the Low Countries: French troops were not to threaten the interests of the Netherlands and Hanover, and the French navy, homeported in Dunkirk, was strictly forbidden from entering any Netherlands waters (including Belgium and the Netherlands). That is, unless André's France officially went to war with the British Empire.

As for Copenhagen, the envoy of the Kingdom of Denmark, which had maintained absolute neutrality throughout the French Revolution, agreed to allow French merchant ships to hire Danish pilots to navigate between the North Sea and the Baltic Sea. However, as an ally of Russia, Denmark steadfastly refused to revoke the arrest warrants against the French privateer fleet commanded by General Allemand.

Regarding Russia, Catherine II and Saint Petersburg refused to recognize any territory occupied by the French revolutionaries on the European continent. Because they had not yet fully digested the partitioned Polish lands, and given the intense friction between Russia and Prussia, Russia had delayed organizing an expeditionary force to stamp out the French Revolution. Even so, Russian diplomats still came to the administrative palace in Brussels, though they could never see eye to eye.

In retaliation against Saint Petersburg, André instructed Talleyrand to publicly rebuke the threats made by the Russian envoy. Furthermore, on the day he entered the Brussels administrative palace, André openly received Polish diplomats, expressing his willingness to resume the weapons-for-grain agreement with Warsaw, though he politely declined to send troops directly to aid Poland.

This was not a moment of hotheadedness from André; rather, it was exactly what the British desperately wanted him to do. They hoped he would aid the weakening Poland in the east, assist a recovering Prussia, and curb the ambitions of the Russian polar bear expanding into Central and Western Europe, ultimately deteriorating relations between France and Russia and sparking a massive war.

Fortunately, André, who carried the wisdom of two lifetimes, and the shrewd Catherine II were neither fools willing to pull another's chestnuts out of the fire. Although the revolutionary newspapers in Reims and the counter-revolutionary papers in Saint Petersburg had been constantly waging a war of words with lengthy editorials, secret coordination between their diplomats led Reims and Saint Petersburg to establish an unspoken red line before Christmas of 1792:

Active French military personnel were not to set foot on Polish soil; concurrently, Russian troops could not cross within one hundred versts (about one hundred and seven kilometers) of the Neman River; additionally, the defense of Warsaw fell to Prussia.

Whether in official matters or personal friendship, André's relationship with the American ambassador Gouverneur Morris was anything but harmonious. The Americans had repeatedly delayed repaying their massive war debts to France, and Morris himself was the guarantor of that credit. Not only did André repeatedly deny Ambassador Morris's requests to visit Belgium, but he also publicly mocked the American diplomat in Le Figaro, predicting he would one day end up behind bars for fraud (the historical Morris did indeed spend time in prison in his later years).

Nevertheless, an American envoy did enter the Brussels administrative palace as a guest. It was the Ambassador to Great Britain, John Adams—a stocky New England lawyer with a penchant for vulgar conversation. It couldn't be helped; Adams had accompanied Member of Parliament Fox from the British House of Commons to Brussels.

During the banquet, Ambassador Adams requested a private meeting with André. The proposition was quite simple: the American ambassador wanted the North African privateer fleet under André's command to escort American merchant ships traveling between the southern Mediterranean and the Strait of Gibraltar. It was an unofficial French naval force that had successfully defeated the vicious North African pirates after a grueling, prolonged conflict.

Since April 1791, the North African pirates entrenched around Tunis, Morocco, and Tripoli had not only plundered numerous merchant ships belonging to the Bordeaux Chamber of Commerce but had also murdered dozens of crew members who had laid down their arms, driving captured captains and others into the Libyan desert for hard labor. At André's behest, the French privateer fleet of twelve warships commanded by General Allemand sailed south into the Mediterranean (see Chapter 90) and waged a bitter ten-month war against the North African pirates.

The ultimate result was that the disjointed Arab pirates could no longer bear the immense loss of personnel and property. They were forced to reach a peace agreement with the French naval commander, General Allemand, which included handing over all captured French crew members and the remains of the victims, paying compensation for said losses, publicly executing a group of pirate leaders involved in the cases, and promising to never again plunder merchant ships flying the tricolor flag of France and its allies.

"The escort fee for the Mediterranean is eighty thousand dollars a year?" André mentally calculated how much that was in francs—five hundred thousand francs in total. It was neither too much nor too little; it was acceptable. However, André had promised to leave all naval affairs entirely in the hands of General Allemand, and he could not step on his toes. Thus, André assigned a liaison officer to accompany Ambassador Adams on a journey south to Marseille to meet with General Allemand.

During the gathering at the administrative palace, Comte de Cabarrus, acting as Spain's secret envoy, also paid André a visit. As a collaborator and old friend of the dictator, the prominent banker enjoyed extraordinary treatment on par with the British ambassador, securing a private forty-minute meeting with André.

But when André suggested that Comte de Cabarrus could buy back forty percent of the shares in the United Commercial Bank, the latter wisely accepted only twenty percent. Subsequently, representing Madrid, he put forth a political condition: he hoped André would persuade Paris not to engage in an all-out war with the frail Spanish army in the Pyrenees. Simply put, they would put on a show, fire a few shots into the air, and call it a day.

André accepted his old friend's request almost without hesitation, stating he would present this to the National Convention. But there was a prerequisite: the Spanish military, whether army or navy, could not enter French territory or ports under any pretext, otherwise, the agreement would automatically become void.

In addition, André received the private emissary of the Swedish Regent, Duc de Södermanland (the future King Charles XIII of Sweden), Vicomte Karl Otto von Mörner. However, this Swedish nobleman clearly had some loose wires in his head. The moment the respectful Swedish diplomat laid eyes on André, his entire body went rigid, his jaw dropped wide open as if he had just seen a terrifying demon from hell, and he ultimately fled in sheer terror.

Several days later, intelligence from the Minister of Police, Javert, indicated that Vicomte Mörner had fled overnight to the port of Antwerp, boarded a Swedish merchant ship, and returned to Stockholm. André racked his brain for a long time but couldn't figure out where he had ever crossed paths with the Swedes. But it didn't matter if he couldn't figure it out. Aside from high-grade iron ore and a decent Baltic navy, there was nothing in Sweden worth André's attention.

…

The journey from Brussels to Antwerp was a mere fifty kilometers. That evening, the expelled Comte de Rietberg had already reported the negotiation details to his father, Prince de Kaunitz-Rietberg, particularly everything that had transpired in the small conference room.

"All truth and justice lay only within the range of a cannon!" The old Prince repeatedly muttered this incredibly arrogant phrase, yet he had to admit that André's words held true.

After enduring the Balkan War of 1790 and the invasion of France in 1792, Austria's national strength was waning day by day. In the short term, they simply lacked the resources—primarily the funds—to organize another anti-French coalition. Based on this, Prince de Kaunitz-Rietberg had hoped to use the peace talks between the Vienna Foreign Ministry and Paris to covertly rein in André's blazing ambitions and minimize their losses. As for the previously discussed method of a marriage alliance between the two sides, André had ordered Talleyrand to shoot it down immediately.

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However, just that morning, a messenger from Vienna had brought the old Prince a piece of information: because the Jacobin-controlled French parliament insisted on a public trial for Louis XVI, the peace talks between Paris and Vienna had fallen through. This meant that Austria not only had to deal with the military threats from the Army of the Alps and the Army of Italy, which took orders from Paris, but also had to defend against the fierce offensive of the Army of the Rhine under the Northern Command Headquarters.

After weighing the pros and cons, Prince de Kaunitz-Rietberg sent word to Metternich in Brussels, instructing him: "Accept the French terms conditionally, but Antwerp must remain a free port."

That last sentence was not just a fig leaf for Austria; it was also political pressure exerted by the British. Member of Parliament Fox had warned André that if he wanted the cabinet of William Pitt the Younger to remain neutral, he had to tread carefully on coastal issues. Any reckless behavior attempting to threaten or challenge the British Empire's maritime supremacy was absolutely intolerable.

The implication was that, in addition to strictly prohibiting the deployment of troops into the port of Antwerp, French warships were also barred from sailing into Belgian coastal ports without British permission. As for the Netherlands and Hanover, they were allies and sacred territories of the British Empire; André and his army were absolutely forbidden from laying a finger on those two fabulously wealthy Low Countries.

On December fifteenth, acting as the representatives for Commander André and Prince de Kaunitz-Rietberg, Talleyrand and Metternich signed an armistice agreement, the Treaty of Brussels.

The treaty stipulated: First, Austria renounced its permanent sovereignty over the Austrian Netherlands, which would be administered by the French army for twelve months. Afterward, the Southern Netherlands would hold a comprehensive referendum in December 1794, allowing millions of citizens to ultimately decide their own allegiance. Second, the port of Antwerp would exist as an international free trade port. Aside from city police (including water police), France could not deploy any other military forces in the city, including the navy. Third, Austria would pay ten million thalers (nearly forty million francs) in gold to ransom all captured Austrian soldiers (over thirty thousand men), while the ransom for aristocratic officers remained unchanged. Fourth, the issue of sovereignty over the territories west of the Rhine would be definitively settled at the Diet of Regensburg scheduled for the following May. Fifth…

Overall, the Treaty of Brussels was merely more lenient in its diplomatic phrasing compared to the Secret Treaty of Valmy signed over two months ago, but the core substance was largely the same. The so-called referendum was just a way to let the defeated save a little face. In reality, over the past two months, the Military Intelligence Office, the military police, and the current Ministry of Police had already tamed the people of this French-speaking region to obey the orders of the administrative palace. As for guaranteeing the internationalization of the port of Antwerp and delaying the sovereignty issue of the territories west of the Rhine, those were the results of covert British meddling.

Truth be told, André was somewhat disappointed with this treaty. Due to British interference, acting as the Plenipotentiary representative of the Electorate of Hanover, they opposed convening the Diet of Regensburg early. This prevented André from finalizing the sovereignty of the German territories west of the Rhine in the international relations law of 1792.

Of course, this was also a welcome outcome for the Austrians and Prussians. Only by deepening their mutual conflicts could they force André to butt heads with the British. The fact that the allied army of one hundred and forty thousand men from the German states was nearly wiped out in the war of 1792 gave all of Europe a new understanding of André and the formidable power he wielded.

At present, the two great powers of the North and South of the Holy Roman Empire had been beaten to the ground, entirely incapable of organizing a second wave of armed intervention forces. Empress Catherine II, who had constantly promised to send troops to France, had instead deployed the Russian army on the eastern bank of the Neman River—fifteen hundred kilometers away from the Rhine—focusing on digesting the rich Eastern European plains she had already secured. The former superpower, Spain, even with the Pyrenees as a shield, was still questionable in its ability to defend itself. As for the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, and the Italian states in the Mediterranean, they were all trembling under the deterrence of the mighty French army, barely able to protect themselves.

Only the British Empire, separated from France by a narrow channel, remained the beacon of hope and guiding light for the monarchies of Europe. However, André was too cunning and utterly shameless. He could publicly humiliate the Imperial Emperor in Schönbrunn Palace (Austria), force the King in Sanssouci to scrape together money from all corners (Prussia), and even spin the Tale of Pushkin to mock the autocratic Empress in the Winter Palace (Russia). Yet, he continually fawned over his closest and most threatening enemy, steadily increasing bilateral trade volumes in a desperate bid to curry favor with the masters of the Palace of Westminster (the British Parliament).

But very few people knew that after every meeting with the British representatives, André would lock himself in a secluded little room. There, he would smash every piece of British-made porcelain and glassware in the room to pieces; only then could his foul mood settle down a bit. Javert had heard André mention more than once that his greatest wish was to emulate the heroic feat of that Dutch Admiral: bombard the Tower of London, and then burn the Palace of Westminster, Buckingham Palace, and the British Prime Minister's residence on Whitehall to the ground…

Naturally, such a beautiful dream was highly unlikely to be realized, at least in the short term. Even if France and Britain went to war the following year, André would not be able to pose any substantial threat to the British mainland. It wasn't for lack of trying, but a lack of capability. In his private study at the administrative palace, André had pasted various economic data charts comparing his territory with Britain in the most conspicuous spot on his desk. They detailed the actual production capacity of the André faction, which included the fifteen northern provinces, the Belgian region, and the territories west of the Rhine.

European population: Britain at twelve million (including Ireland), André's side at eleven million; Pig iron production: Britain at one hundred and twenty thousand tons, André's side at less than twenty thousand tons; Coal production: Britain exceeding eleven million tons, the André faction at one million five hundred thousand to two million tons; Overseas colonies: Britain was the empire on which the sun never sets, its colonies tens or hundreds of times the size of its European homeland (peaking at one hundred and forty times); meanwhile, André's fleet had only secured one or two footholds in North Africa (pirate dens), though one could also count half of Saint-Domingue (around Cap-Français). Number of warships: The number of active or dry-docked ships of the line in Britain exceeded one hundred, while their cruisers and frigates numbered in the thousands. The naval forces loyal to André consisted of only two fleets: the North African privateer fleet and the Atlantic squadron stationed at the port of Dunkirk, with a total of no more than fifty warships.

Furthermore, Britain's foreign trade volume was over one hundred times that of André's, its basic cotton textile production was twenty times his, and its steam engine production was ten times his. Only in terms of the army did André hold the advantage, possessing over two hundred thousand soldiers, whereas the British army on the island across the channel, which stubbornly maintained a volunteer system, numbered less than forty thousand. But this was of little use; as long as the British Home Fleet existed, European soldiers could never set foot on the British Isles.

Fortunately, André's emphasis on science and technology was unmatched. Centered around the Reims Polytechnic Institute, which had absorbed more than half of the French Academy of Sciences, André was absolutely certain that even bronze-tier steam-powered ironclads could defeat the kings of the age of sail. After all, a generational gap in technology could never be bridged by a tradition of martial valor.

However, a major prerequisite for building ironclads was that his core economic indicators—namely coal and iron production, and the number of steam engines—had to surpass those of Britain. And that required time, a massive amount of time…

When the André faction moved its capital to Brussels, Archbishop Maury, acting as the special envoy of the Roman Catholic Church, also arrived belatedly. However, both André and Maury were acutely aware that the severe political fallout from a public meeting would be something neither could endure. Thus, on Christmas Eve, inside a Catholic church not far from the Belgian administrative palace, André and Madame Marguerite attended a mass.

As the ceremony neared its end, André, having taken communion, met Archbishop Maury in a confessional. Of course, a wooden grille separated the two men as they spoke.

"Congratulations, my friend, on successfully entering the College of Cardinals. You are now just one step away from the papal throne in Rome." Even though he couldn't see the other man's face clearly, André's first words were to congratulate Maury on his elevation to Cardinal.

Hearing this, Archbishop Maury didn't know whether to laugh or cry. According to standard procedure, even in a confessional, if one's first words weren't praising God, they should be begging for His forgiveness. Well, what could Archbishop Maury reprimand the God-Favoured—a man who feared no deity—for? He could only maintain his silence for the moment.

Tracing it back to the source, Archbishop Maury's recent promotion was indeed closely tied to André, particularly regarding that holy relic originally treasured in the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris—the Crown of Thorns worn by Jesus during his crucifixion. It was this that ultimately prompted over half of the Archbishops in the College of Cardinals to cast their precious votes for the French Bishop Maury.

In fact, somewhat similar to the Holy Roman Empire, the Pope's power was constrained by the seventy Cardinals who made up the College. Although the current Pope Pius VI, an Italian, detested the French and had repeatedly refused to appoint French Archbishops, he could not overrule the collective decision of the College of Cardinals.

Even though Maury had been promoted to Cardinal, his power and prestige were not yet sufficient to repay all of André's prior investments, and André had no intention of using this highly valuable chess piece as a one-time consumable.

After a moment of silence, André took the initiative to speak again, asking, "What do you need me to do this time? If you want to continue the topic from last Christmas, then save your breath. As I said before, the Catholic Church's jurisdiction is strictly limited to churches, monasteries, or charitable halls. Any excess land deeds must be returned to the hands of the people."

The Archbishop hurriedly replied, "It's not that. Two months ago, at the College of Cardinals in Rome, I received a secret letter from a priest in the Vendée. He stated that some rural nobles in that province and the Brittany region are actively inciting the peasants, preparing for a massive armed uprising. What I want to say is that such a rebellion cannot possibly succeed; it will only be a massacre for both sides. If possible, I hope you can do your utmost to save the poor souls caught in the crossfire."

The uprising Archbishop Maury spoke of was the impending War in the Vendée of 1793. In reality, the Military Intelligence Office had been monitoring this matter for a long time. However, after conducting an assessment, Colonel Marey took no action, merely ordering his intelligence officers to continue their covert surveillance. He didn't even issue a warning to the local garrison in the Vendée.

Once the Vendée rebellion erupted on a massive scale, the intelligence department in Reims could seize the opportunity to use the French army loyal to the Jacobins to wipe out those inflexible, die-hard royalist nobles and priests, thereby sweeping away the various obstacles they would face when unifying France in the future. Based on this, André had tacitly approved of MI5's handling of the situation.

Therefore, he explained to the compassionate Cardinal, "I apologize, but I can only be responsible for the people of the fifteen northern provinces. As for the other regions, I cannot take that risk—unless Paris voluntarily surrenders to me, which is impossible."

Seemingly hearing the Cardinal's soft sigh, André added, "However, innocent refugees who manage to flee to the fifteen northern provinces can still receive the protection of Reims."

During this, André placed heavy emphasis on the word innocent. In other words, certain individuals—such as those who had opposed André—would receive no sanctuary whatsoever. The Cardinal knew this was the ultimate promise André would make. If he wanted to resolve these conflicts, he had to push André to unify France as soon as possible.

Yet André had no interest in marching south to Paris. Whenever Archbishop Maury tried to delve deeper into this topic, the dictator would skillfully steer the conversation elsewhere. According to his established strategy, André needed to wait until the Jacobins, led by Robespierre, used an iron fist to wipe out the various separatist factions in the south. Only then would André make his move, stepping in with the face of a benevolent archangel to bring this history of terrifying riots to an end.

…

Those participating in the Brussels peace conference included not only the European powers and religious factions but also local Belgian political forces. Because the Austrian army had bloodily suppressed the uprising of 1790, the French-speaking Belgians warmly welcomed the arrival of the conqueror André. Although a minority still voiced veiled criticisms of the French army's public seizure of Catholic Church assets, it was nowhere near the level of inciting armed resistance.

Overall, there were two distinctly different domestic factions active in the Belgian political arena:

One was the Patriots led by Vonck, namely the Populists who advocated emulating the French reforms. Almost all French-speaking Walloons belonged to this political force. They leaned towards unifying with France to the south, aligned with the more moderate Jacobins, and had been the first group to rise up in armed rebellion against Austrian rule.

The other was the conservative political faction led by the Dutch exile Henri van der Noot. They were mostly native Dutch-speaking Flemings who championed the development of industry and commerce, the implementation of free trade, and the preservation of religious freedom, aiming to establish an independent, sovereign Belgian federal state. However, Noot and his followers did not trust André or the French army he commanded; many viewed the French as foreign occupiers every bit as brutal and tyrannical as the Austrians.

Naturally, these conservatives became the primary targets for suppression by the Military Intelligence Office, the military police, and the current Ministry of Police, while the Populists, who held the numerical advantage among the populace, became the targets of André's patronage. From Tournai, spreading to Brussels, Bruges, Namur, Mons, Liège, and Ghent, under the covert manipulation of the intelligence departments, the Populists consistently maintained an overwhelming advantage in the three-tiered parliamentary elections across Belgium.

Not long after, internal strife broke out within the conservative faction, which was under intense pressure from all sides. Henri van der Noot, who had always maintained an anti-French stance, lost his position as party leader and subsequently chose self-exile in London. Meanwhile, industrialists and businessmen, represented by the wealthy tycoon Comte Michel-Jean Simon, began to lead this political force.

Starting in October, through a series of political donations—including bribing André's personal envoy Talleyrand, gratuitously funding the renovation of the regional administrative palace, and making massive purchases of various mechanical equipment—Simon gradually mended relations with Belgium's new ruler. Specifically, with the help of his friends within the party, Simon transformed the former conservative faction into an industrial and commercial wing, publicly announcing that they were abandoning their demands for Belgian independence.

Subsequently, Comte Simon also became an honored guest of Commander André.