Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

"Ha! I thought we wouldn’t meet until after the Christmas Mass," Talleyrand said, leaning on his cane and pointing down the corridor, his face brimming with a smile. "This way, my old friend."

The Marquess of Wellesley followed silently, all the while cursing inwardly. If it hadn’t been for Cornwallis’s idiotic performance on the battlefield, he wouldn’t have had to hurry to Paris to be ridiculed by the damn French!

He walked on and then suddenly felt something was amiss; turning his head, he surveyed the surroundings:

"Your Excellency, Archbishop, are we going the wrong way? This doesn’t seem to be the direction to the Hall of Peace."

According to French custom, important negotiations in the Palace of Versailles were usually conducted in the Hall of Peace.

Talleyrand turned his head, revealing an apologetic expression:

"Unfortunately, my lord Marquess, the Hall of Peace is about to host a signing ceremony for the Paris Gas Industry Company and Paris City Hall regarding the installation of gas streetlights.

"Ah, you see, the Gas Industry Company has already reserved that location. We can talk just as well elsewhere."

Wellesley nearly let slip a swear word—did that wretched cripple mean to imply that the Foreign Minister of the mighty British Empire was less important than some gas company?

"Oh, right, my lord Marquess, on the 15th of next month, there will be an inaugural ceremony for the gas streetlights in Paris, and I cordially invite you to attend. It’s certainly an event not to be missed."

"I’ll consider it," the Briton replied, his face grim as he forced the words through clenched teeth.

Soon, the diplomatic staff from both France and England took their seats in a small reception room.

Talleyrand seemed very interested in the topic of gas streetlights, speaking endlessly of their merits:

"These lanterns are so fascinating. Oh, and you’ll never guess which city will be the third to have its night sky illuminated by gas lamps after Paris and Lyon!"

"..."

"Tunis City!" the cripple proclaimed triumphantly. "Surprising, isn’t it? Well, the threat from the brigands of Algiers is no longer a concern, so many investors have seen potential in that place. The Duke of Tunis himself will come to Paris to sign the contract with the Gas Industry Company."

"Cough—" The Marquess of Wellesley had to awkwardly interrupt Talleyrand’s spiel about gas lamps, "Your Excellency, Archbishop, you know why I am here. It is time for our two nations to clarify some misunderstandings.

"While the ’brigands’ of Algiers brought disaster upon Tunisia, the brigands of Mysore also inflicted substantial losses on the British East India Company.

"I believe we should cooperate in combating these brigand powers."

Talleyrand waved his hand with a smile:

"Thank you for your kind offer, but our armed forces have already given the People of Algiers and Moroccans a severe lesson, and there’s no trouble anymore in the northwest of Tunisia.

"By the way, how is the situation with the East India Company now?"

Wellesley sighed inwardly; why were the Moroccans as foolish as Cornwallis! He would surely have to sacrifice some interests to salvage the situation in India—in fact, the British Parliament had already authorized him to make considerable concessions.

He didn’t pick up on Talleyrand’s conversational gambit but instead said:

"Your Excellency, Archbishop, my country will condemn the brigands of Tripoli and support your country’s necessary retaliation against them."

Poor Ben Guerir was thus labeled as "brigands." The implication was that he was agreeing to France extending its influence to Tripoli.

"A very wise decision!" Talleyrand nodded with a smile, "However, the brigands of Algiers have also caused severe damage to our Tunisia. Did you know? Her Majesty the Queen has already decided to declare war on Algiers. I believe that England should also express its support for this action."

Wellesley immediately said, "No, that is not acceptable..."

As for Tripoli, although its land is fertile, he absolutely could not accept Algiers, with an area approaching that of two Tunisias, becoming within the sphere of influence of France.

Talleyrand interrupted him directly:

"To my knowledge, two months ago, Carnatic had already lost half of its territory at Tiruchirappalli. Perhaps we could wait and see, maybe Mysore will suddenly be inspired by the Divine and withdraw its troops."

Wellesley took a deep breath and threatened,

"Your Excellency the Archbishop, I have heard that your country’s merchant ships have been frequently heading to the Pacific Ocean region. Perhaps they require the Royal Navy of England to ensure their shipping routes remain open."

Talleyrand, of course, knew that he was threatening to attack French merchant ships. Those were the fleets transporting wool from New Zealand. However, he simply shrugged indifferently:

"I don’t know what you are talking about, but I have heard that the Russians suddenly took an interest in Pacific trade."

Indeed, the ships of the Twin Companies all flew the Russian flag, and most of the sailors were Russians too.

Wellesley faltered, then coldly said:

"Those ports in the Pacific are equally unsafe."

He was threatening to attack the trade hubs directly. Although England was still unclear about who the French and Russian merchant ships were doing business with, with the strength of the Royal fleet, they could certainly find out if they wished.

"I do not care," Talleyrand spread his hands, "The pirates might as well try their luck."

His Highness the Crown Prince had told him that the Maori of New Zealand Island needed no protection from France, and that it would take at least half of England’s military power and more than five years to possibly conquer that place. Enjoy new stories from

Such a large expenditure was absolutely unacceptable for England.

Wellesley tested him again and again, confirming that the cripple was not bluffing, and inwardly he moaned—his hand had almost run out.

He abruptly stood up, gritting his teeth:

"Your Excellency the Archbishop, if you continue to be so aggressive, the only result will be a war!"

Talleyrand looked at his furious expression and knew he had almost reached the breaking point, immediately waving his hand to signal:

"Relax a bit, dear Marquis. At least we need to punish the Moroccan bandits entrenched in Annaba. After that, the Mysore army attacking Carnatic might indeed be touched by the Divine."

Wellesley thought angrily: Damn that cripple, they are Muslim, the Divine will not bother with them!

However, he slowly sat back down, "If it is limited to Annaba, perhaps we can negotiate..."

At 5 p.m., Wellesley returned to London with one hand clutching his aching stomach and the other holding the initial draft of the "Non-Intervention Treaty" for presentation to the Congress for review and signature, his face somber, but his mind already contemplating what to do after resigning as Foreign Minister.

Yes, after taking over the mess left by the Duke of Leeds, he had been full of confidence, thinking he could turn the situation around, only to find that he had lost even more than his predecessor.

Just last year, the Duke of Leeds had resigned because of an inappropriate North African strategy, and he could not avoid following in his footsteps.

"Perhaps I could go to India, tell Cornwallis how to resolve the trouble there," he murmured to himself.

It was after the deployment of troops from Mysore that he gradually fell into a passive position, so he absolutely had to recover his losses from there.

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