He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 133

(133) Eugene Becomes Napoleon’s Son

Deception, a tactic embraced by great commanders throughout history to outwit their enemies.

“Is a deception operation even possible on such a strategic scale?”

“What? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“I’m just wondering, can you really deceive the enemy when moving a large army? I’m not so sure.”

Eugene frowned, self-conscious in the formal military uniform he hadn’t worn in ages.

The gleaming star on his epaulette marked him as a brigadier general.

He usually preferred the comfort of his cavalry attire on the battlefield, but today was different.

Major Hippolyte, also in full dress uniform, gently chided him.

“Just focus on the ceremony, General. The Pope himself sent a cardinal.”

As if on cue, a man in priestly robes hurried over, exclaiming.

“Good heavens, Cardinal Imola is here! What an honor for the family!”

This was Joseph Fesch, Napoleon’s mother Letizia’s half-brother.

He was the only member of Napoleon’s family to pursue a religious path.

Strictly speaking, he was Napoleon’s uncle, but being a half-sibling, he was only 32, not much older than Napoleon.

From the opposite side, a middle-aged man in his fifties, wearing a red cardinal’s hat, approached with a kind smile.

“Haha, His Holiness the Pope originally intended to preside over the ceremony himself.”

“My heart is pounding! Ah, Napoleon has no sense of decorum!”

“Not at all. Isn’t it natural for a soldier to be devoted to his military duties?”

The cardinal’s gaze swept around the hall of Sant’Angelo, a strange glint in his eyes.

“Now that I think about it, you mentioned marching north towards Venice, didn’t you?”

At his words, the room fell silent, everyone exchanging uneasy glances.

Cardinal Luigi Chiaramonti, Archbishop of the Imola region and a close advisor to the Pope.

The French had said his presence wasn’t necessary, but the Pope insisted on sending Cardinal Imola.

Because the [Wedding of the Century] was to be held here in Sant’Angelo, Rome.

The union of Napoleon, the conqueror of Italy, and the widow Josephine.

Naturally, the cardinal was there to gauge the true intentions of Napoleon’s army.

How much should they reveal?

At that moment, Eugene stepped forward and bowed politely.

“That’s correct, Your Eminence. Venice has opposed our Republic, so we must accept their surrender.”

“Hmm? Ah, Brigadier General Eugene Freiherr von und zu Franckenhorst. I’ve heard much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You know of me, Your Eminence?”

Eugene’s eyes widened slightly, but Cardinal Imola maintained his kind smile.

“How could I not? You’re the one who sent those famous Austrian generals to their reward with your ‘magic bullets.’ Perhaps ‘Holy Bullet’ would be a more fitting title: Brigadier General Eugene Freiherr von und zu Franckenhorst ‘Bonaparte’.”

It wasn’t as if the Vatican possessed particularly outstanding intelligence in this era.

Rather, it spoke to the fame of Eugene’s exploits during the Italian campaign.

Still, Eugene felt a little taken aback, stepping back slightly.

Hippolyte leaned in close and whispered.

“Wow, the cardinal’s got nerve, mentioning ‘magic bullets’ to your face.”

“He’ll be the next Pope.”

“Huh? Him?”

Eugene watched the cardinal approach the bride and groom and nodded.

“He’s a relative of the current Pope and his closest advisor. Of course, if ‘we’ object now, it might hinder his ascent to the papacy. That’s why he insisted on attending this ceremony.”

This was the man who would become Pius VII in later history.

And the Pope who would preside over Napoleon’s famous coronation.

However, Eugene’s surprise wasn’t due to the ‘magic bullet’ story or the cardinal’s papal aspirations.

Bonaparte.

Not Beauharnais anymore.

Napoleon’s family name, bestowed upon Eugene.

Once the formal marriage was complete.

“Now, then! According to the Civil Code of the French Republic, we will proceed with the marriage vows. Napoleon Bonaparte and Marie Rose Josèphe Tascher de La Pagerie, please confirm and sign the marriage certificate.”

However, neither Fesch nor Cardinal Imola was conducting the ceremony.

Strangely, it was Saliceti, one of the five directors of the French Directory [the executive branch of the French government at the time].

Hippolyte, equally puzzled, asked Eugene.

“Why is Director Saliceti the officiant?”

“Well, according to the Republic’s civil law, marriage registration must be performed by a public official.”

“Wasn’t he busy reorganizing Lombardy? They were supposed to be establishing a new ‘satellite’ republic there.”

Eugene smiled and shook his head.

“Nothing is more important than the commander’s, or rather, ‘father’s’ marriage. Besides, who knows what might happen if we actually head north.”

In the original timeline, Napoleon divided northern Italy immediately after the Italian campaign.

The old Lombardy region, centered on Milan, was transformed into the Cisalpine Republic.

Naturally, the parliament and rulers at its core were controlled by France.

Thus, a dependent state, a [satellite state], was born.

However, this dependent state arose because France failed to completely subdue Austria.

Now, Napoleon aimed for direct control of Austria.

If he succeeded, there would be no need for a satellite republic.

It could be directly incorporated into the French Republic.

Hippolyte wasn’t particularly interested in such matters.

He gazed at Josephine in her pure white wedding dress, feigning sadness.

“Sigh, my first love is slipping away. Hey, are you happy to have a new dad?”

“Shut up. Aren’t you chasing Pauline these days?”

“I haven’t seen her since the expedition. The war needs to end quickly so I can have some meaningful encounters with beautiful women. Lately, I’ve only been having light affairs with Lasalle.”

Lasalle, a dashing young major serving as Eugene’s bodyguard at the wedding, grinned and chimed in.

“I didn’t seduce him. Hippolyte’s the one who’s been following me.”

Just then…

“The signing is complete. Now, greet everyone.”

Napoleon surveyed the attendees with a businesslike air.

A wedding in the age of revolution, requiring only seven people: the officiant, the bride and groom, and two witnesses for each party.

The bride, the groom, and the witnesses had all signed.

It was a truly lackluster wedding held in a sacred city.

Josephine, who had been slightly frowning, beamed and looked around at everyone.

“Nice to meet you all. I’m Madame Josephine Bonaparte. Please take care of my husband and my son in the future.”

She was the only radiant beauty in this desolate wedding.

Everyone present was captivated and filled with admiration.

Masséna laughed heartily, raising his glass in congratulations.

“Glory to the victorious noblewoman! Hahaha!”

October 25, 1795.

Napoleon and Josephine’s informal wedding took place.

And Eugene’s name was changed as well.

Eugene Bonaparte, taking his adoptive father’s surname.

***

However, the conqueror of Italy had no time for the sweet dreams of a honeymoon.

“Send letters to Moreau and Hoche. Tell them to launch an offensive with all their might.”

Napoleon hastily prepared for departure, issuing orders to his adjutants.

Eugene, Marmont, and Duroc were now all commanders of independent units.

Junot was already in the Venice area.

Therefore, the role of scribe fell to a new adjutant, Muiron.

Captain Muiron diligently recorded Napoleon’s words and looked up.

“Is that all, Commander?”

Napoleon glanced at Saliceti, who was sitting casually in the temporary headquarters barracks outside Sant’Angelo.

“I think Director Saliceti will have to go to Paris himself.”

Saliceti raised his eyebrows.

He was already swamped with the reorganization of the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Duchy of Milan, and the Republic of Venice.

He had dropped everything to attend Napoleon’s wedding.

Now, Napoleon was sending him to Paris as a messenger.

“Me, you say?”

“That’s right, Saliceti. What could be more persuasive than words delivered directly by a director?”

“I’m incredibly busy. You’ll provide me with a guard, right? And what should I tell Paris?”

Saliceti accepted Napoleon’s request without complaint.

From the start, Saliceti knew his position as director was essentially as Napoleon’s [agent].

He had also amassed a fortune from this expedition through his deal with Eugene.

To protect his assets and power, he had no choice but to remain loyal to Napoleon.

Napoleon, using the Republic’s highest-ranking official as a subordinate, smiled with satisfaction.

“Tell them to send reinforcements because I intend to directly attack Tyrol [a region in the Austrian Alps]. The Alps Army would be ideal.”

Tyrol, the Alpine gateway to Vienna, the capital of Austria.

No matter how brilliant Napoleon was, a large army was essential to conquer the empire.

Saliceti nodded at the logically sound request.

“What’s the current strength of the Italian Army? Sixty thousand? Tell them to bring it up to at least ninety thousand.”

“Excellent. Tell them to send the reinforcements directly to Milan.”

“Huh? Really? Okay, I’ll leave immediately!”

Saliceti, sensing something was amiss, hesitated before rising from his seat.

He wasn’t a strategist, after all.

He suspected gathering in Milan would waste time, but decided not to question it.

Napoleon watched Saliceti depart, then turned back to his army’s leadership.

“Now, then. We’re heading straight to Padua.”

This time, Napoleon’s division commanders, chief of staff, and adjutants were visibly surprised.

The main force of Napoleon’s army was already waiting in Padua.

But if Napoleon went directly to Padua, the Alps reinforcements he had just requested from Saliceti wouldn’t be able to join him.

Bertier, after a moment of calculating troop numbers and supplies, spoke up.

“Commander, do you mean to proceed without reinforcements?”

“Of course. Do you think the enemy will stand idly by while we replenish our forces? They’ll likely gather twice as many reinforcements themselves.”

“But Tyrol is a dangerous area. It’s difficult to traverse even with only a small number of enemy troops.”

Napoleon dismissed the concern and turned to another division commander.

“Laharpe, what do you think? Can you advance into Tyrol?”

Laharpe, who had recently succeeded in capturing Mantua.

Napoleon had summoned Laharpe to Rome under the guise of attending his wedding.

He had rushed there without hesitation, but now Laharpe understood why he had been called away from Mantua.

It was for the conquest of Vienna.

Laharpe nodded vigorously.

“If you entrust me with the vanguard, I will do my utmost to succeed.”

“No, alone.”

“Yes?”

Just as Laharpe was about to protest, Napoleon said nonchalantly.

“Tyrol is also a feint. But it has to appear real. No, if the opportunity presents itself, you must actually occupy Vienna. Do you understand what I mean, Laharpe?”

After the Battle of Rivoli, the Brenner Pass route had been opened.

This route, which Alvinczy had tried to defend, was the gateway to Munich.

Napoleon abandoned this gateway and chose the Tyrol route, the route Wurmser had taken.

But even that was a trick.

The route Napoleon’s main force would take was different.

Nevertheless, the feint had to be a genuine threat, in case of emergency, to deceive the enemy.

If Napoleon’s main force was discovered and Austria concentrated its forces, Laharpe had to actually attack Vienna directly.

Only that level of threat could draw the Austrian army into Tyrol.

Eugene, realizing the implications, exclaimed.

“To deceive the enemy, you have to deceive your own allies!”

Napoleon smiled.

“Yes, and even ‘myself’. So that lies can become truth in case of emergency. What do you say? Is it possible?”