Fouché hesitated and said, "Your Highness, among the pro-governnt factions in Corsica, nearly half lean toward liberalism. They might not follow Count Buttafuoco's leadership easily."
Count Buttafuoco, an old aristocrat, disliked the liberals who constantly advocated for equality between nobles and commoners. In fact, he was one of the biggest opponents of the liberals.
Joseph blinked and decisively responded, "Then have Buttafuoco follow the liberals. Tell him that if he can work with them and the 'anti-Paoli' faction to secure two-thirds of the seats in the Corsican Assembly, I'll appoint him as Corsica's governor."
In Corsica, any legislation required approval from two-thirds of the Assembly mbers.
Even if they didn't secure that many seats, it didn't matter much. Most liberals held strong nationalist views and naturally clashed with the separatist Paoli faction, which would lead to internal conflicts. This would give Joseph's chosen candidates a chance to rise.
Moreover, embedding Buttafuoco within the liberals would allow him to keep them in check during critical monts.
Although Corsica had a population of just over 200,000, its internal political scene was highly complex, with various factions constantly competing for power. As a result, until the early 19th century, Corsica remained a "state within a state" under French rule.
Joseph then gave Fouché further instructions:
"Also, you need to use Mr. Chalrs' influence within the independence movent to quickly gather intelligence on the 'Corsican National Guard.' Ideally, you should also infiltrate it with so of our people."
Joseph wasn't naive enough to think that political maneuvering alone could resolve Corsica's separatist issue.
Even if he controlled the Assembly, the ard factions of the independence movent would likely stage a coup, dissolve the Assembly, and declare independence.
However, if they did that, the independence movent would lose any legal standing, and public sentint would turn against them.
At that point, deploying the military to suppress them would no longer resemble Napoleon's entanglent in the guerrilla warfare of the Corsican "people's war."
Truthfully, the Corsican National Guard, with its 2,000 soldiers, wasn't a serious threat in open combat. And with the intelligence service preparing in advance, the suppression effort would be even smoother.
Only after a true military confrontation could France assert absolute control over Corsica.
"Understood, Your Highness!"
Fouché straightened up and accepted the order just as Eymond knocked lightly on the door from outside, reminding them:
"Your Highness, according to the schedule, you're due to inspect the gasworks this afternoon."
"Alright, let's head out," Joseph said as he stood, motioning for Fouché to join him. They boarded the carriage, and as they traveled, Joseph inquired about the situations in Tunisia and Tripoli.
Fouché disembarked as they neared the northern outskirts of Paris, where the gasworks were located.
Joseph's carriage continued a bit further, where the plant manager, Delas, the patent holder for the gas distillation thod, Murdock, investor DuPont, and the head of the Industrial Developnt Fund were already waiting to greet him.
A band played music, and people with ribbons and bouquets lined up to welco them. However, the wooden factory fence and the black smoke in the distance made the scene feel rather crude.
Joseph hadn't wanted this fanfare, thinking it would be more practical to use the ti to produce more gas. However, Delas had convinced him it was important to hold a formal ceremony to mark the factory's official opening, so Joseph relented.
As Joseph stepped out of the carriage, everyone bowed.
Joseph greeted them with a smile, gave a short speech congratulating them on the factory's launch, and then entered the plant, surrounded by the welcoming party.
Walking alongside Joseph, Delas enthusiastically explained, "Your Highness, we now distill 16 tons of coal per day, producing enough gas to power over 5,000 gas lamps. These lamps illuminate three-quarters of Paris's streets and the entire Versailles Palace!"
Joseph nodded with satisfaction. He recalled that at the ti of the Expo, the gasworks could only power about 800 lamps. In just six months, that number had increased fivefold.
This remarkable progress was thanks to Joseph's substantial investnt and his hands-on involvent in overseeing the project. This gasworks was the first of its kind in the world, and achieving such rapid developnt was nothing short of a miracle.
Of course, the project had cost a great deal. The Paris gas lamp project alone had required 2 million francs from the governnt, with an additional 1.6 million francs from investors like DuPont. In total, 3.6 million francs had been spent!
But it was worth the investnt. Beyond boosting Paris's and France's image, attracting talent and investnt, the real estate value alone from the street lighting project would more than recover the costs, and the potential profits were enormous.
Delas smiled broadly as he pointed eastward. "Your Highness, phase two of the gasworks is expected to be completed by early next year. When that happens, not only will all of Paris be able to use gas lighting, but nearby towns like Antoine will also have ample gas supplies.
"Oh, and the gasworks in Lyon should officially begin production around October..."
Led by Delas, Joseph and his party passed a towering coal pile—three stories high—until they reached the factory buildings made of stone and wood. Inside, red-hot distillation retorts glowed under roaring flas.
Thick black smoke poured from the chimneys, darkening the sky above.
Dozens of workers, blackened by soot, loaded coal into small carts and wheeled them into the factory, where others shoveled coal into the retorts. Nearby, technicians monitored temperatures and checked instrunts.
The workers were so covered in soot that streaks of sweat had cut clean lines down their faces and bodies, making them look as though they were wearing striped jerseys.
Eymond stood beside Joseph, fanning him vigorously to combat the heat radiating from the retorts. Suddenly, a soft voice ca from behind him:
"Viscount Eymond, may I… excuse myself for a mont?"
Joseph turned and saw his maid, her face flushed, looking down in embarrassnt.
He suddenly realized that the workers around them were shirtless—wearing clothes in this heat was simply unbearable.
He signaled to her, "Of course, you may wait for us outside the factory."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Carlia hurriedly gathered up her soot-covered skirt and ran out.
Perrna, who had been following close behind Joseph in her n's attire, glanced at Carlia before lifting her chin ever so slightly, as if she had just won so small victory.
(End of Chapter)
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