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Chapter 212: The Prince's Personal Campaign
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 22:26:36 +0000 UTCChapter 212: The Prince's Personal Campaign
Queen Marie flipped through the report on Tunis that Joann had submitted. In fact, she had already read it several times the day before. With a frown, she asked, "Attacks, and more attacks... Who could be behind this?"
Joann, standing at the end of the conference table, responded cautiously, "We're not sure yet, Your Majesty. However, it seems the attacks might be linked to the Tunisian Guard."
The Queen asked a few more detailed questions about the situation in Tunis before turning to the ministers gathered around the table. "What are your thoughts on this matter?"
The Duke of Orléans glanced at the empty seat of the Foreign Minister, Vergennes—who had been sent by Brienne to Northern Europe to "monitor" the war between Sweden and Russia—and felt a pang of loneliness. Less than a year ago, his faction had held nearly half the seats at the cabinet meetings, but now he was fighting alone.
Clearing his throat, he nodded to the Queen. "Your Majesty, such situations are common in colonies across various nations. For instance, in the Congo, South Africa, and Peru, uprisings occur regularly. The Americans even drove the British out of the Thirteen Colonies.
"Yes, America. As you see, the British fought there for seven or eight years, lost over 30,000 soldiers, spent billions of livres, and still ended up failing.
"So, I believe we should avoid facing a similar situation in Tunis at all costs."
A week earlier, he had secretly met with the British Ambassador to France, Hartley, who had asked him to influence French policy and withdraw from Tunis. In return, Hartley promised substantial political benefits, including supporting Vergennes in negotiating a seemingly favorable agreement with Britain, which would boost his political prestige. Since Vergennes was the Duke's only ally left in the cabinet, protecting him was crucial, so the Duke agreed immediately.
"I also think we shouldn't waste too much effort on Tunis," added Monnot, raising his round arm. "It's full of infidels, and our financial situation doesn't allow us to waste money in North Africa."
Usually, immigration-related matters fell under Monnot's purview as the Minister of the Interior, but Brienne had, at Joseph's suggestion, handed over the Tunisian immigration affairs to Mirabeau. Seeing a lucrative deal worth millions of livres slip through his fingers, Monnot was eager to derail the whole project.
Brienne, hearing the words "financial situation," couldn't help but agree inwardly. However, since the North African affair was being driven by the Crown Prince, he restrained himself from expressing his opinion.
Joseph frowned at this. Tunis was the cornerstone of his North African strategy. Things were just starting to take shape—there was no way he could give up so easily. He was counting on Tunis's fertile land to alleviate next year's famine, not to mention the more than a million livres already invested in the immigration project. Letting all that money go to waste was out of the question.
He was about to speak when the Minister of War stood up and raised his fist, shouting, "If we retreat from a newly acquired colony because of a small group of rebels, I bet France will be the laughingstock of all Europe by tomorrow! In fact, all we need is to send a proper military force to show those North African locals what we're made of!"
The military, of course, was in favor of sending large-scale reinforcements to Tunis. It meant the Crown would be dependent on them, and a large war budget would pass through their hands—an excellent opportunity to make money.
The Navy Minister and Mirabeau quickly voiced their agreement. One was also eyeing the military budget, and the other hoped to use Tunis's market and resources to boost industrial development.
Soon, the room was filled with a fierce debate between those who supported and those who opposed sending reinforcements.
Queen Marie's blue eyes blinked as she looked from one group of ministers to the other. She quickly realized that the ministers supporting the retention of Tunis outnumbered those opposing it.
Raising her hand to signal for silence, she spoke with authority: "I've made my decision."
She turned to the Minister of War. "Duke of Saint Priest, please submit a plan for sending reinforcements to Tunis as soon as possible."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As he left the conference room, Joseph still looked troubled.
Although the cabinet had decided not to abandon Tunis, it was clear that they were leaning toward a drawn-out security operation.
This was completely different from what he had planned. A large-scale security operation would not only consume a huge amount of money but could also take years to fully subdue the Tunisians, potentially sowing seeds of hatred against France that would lead to endless problems in the future.
Shaking his head, Joseph hadn't yet come up with an effective solution. He returned to his study and spread out the vast amount of North African information that Joann had brought back, examining everything from the political and military structures to customs and religious culture, page by page.
He lost track of time until Emmond quietly entered the room for the tenth time, trimming the candle wicks one by one.
Joseph flipped open a document about the demographics of Tunis and came across a description of its Guard: "...As the highest-ranking class in Tunisian society, the Guard has always practiced endogamy, forming a closed group..."
Suddenly, an idea struck him. He quickly found information about Tunisian religious forces and immediately saw a possible solution.
To be sure, he signaled to Emmond. "Please summon Baron Joann."
"What? Your Highness, it's already 1 a.m..."
"It's that late? Oh, then do it in the morning."
…
Two days later.
An emergency cabinet meeting was convened once more.
Duke of Saint Priest, filled with satisfaction, placed a thick stack of reinforcement plans for Tunis in front of Queen Marie.
Seeing the Queen flip through the military plan with a confused expression, he quickly cleared his throat and began explaining the main points.
"Your Majesty, we plan to send 25,000 soldiers under General Kellermann to Tunis. Adding to the 3,000 troops already there, they will be deployed to control these locations... and these," he said, pointing to various points on the Tunisian map laid out on the table. "Afterward, a mobile force will systematically clear out all major towns..."
After outlining the battle strategy, the Duke continued, "According to our estimates, the initial phase of the military operation will require a budget of about 10 million livres. Further funding will be needed as the situation develops.
"In addition, to ensure unified command, it would be necessary to integrate Berthier's troops under General Kellermann's command."
"That much money?!" Queen Marie exclaimed, looking at him in shock.
The Duke of Orléans took the opportunity to interject. "If the conflict drags on, it wouldn't be surprising to pour tens of millions of livres into it. I still believe that withdrawing from Tunis is the most prudent choice."
"What are you talking about?" the Minister of War retorted angrily. "We'll have victory within months!"
"That's not guaranteed…"
Joseph suddenly stood up, interrupting the two. "I also do not support abandoning Tunis!"
Duke Saint Priest immediately cast an approving glance:
"Praise your courage and wisdom, Prince!"
Joseph merely gave him a fleeting glance, thinking, "Praise my foot! How dare you eye my Guard Corps? I'll deal with you later!" He then continued speaking loudly, "However, I think we don't need to rush into sending reinforcements. We can try to persuade the unruly Tunisians first."
"Persuade them?"
Aside from Joann and Mirabeau, who were already informed, the others in the room gave Joseph strange looks.
"That's right," Joseph nodded seriously. "Surely, there are reasonable people in Tunis."
"And it will only take a few hundred thousand livres to persuade them."
Joann and Mirabeau immediately voiced their agreement as Joseph had instructed beforehand. Brienne, shocked by the idea of a ten-million-livre military budget, quickly supported the "persuasion" method as well. The Duke of Orléans, though usually in opposition, surprisingly sided with the Prince this time—thinking the idea of persuasion was nothing more than the naive fantasy of an inexperienced youth. But as long as they didn't send troops, he could report back to the British ambassador with satisfaction.
Queen Marie was surprised to see that her son's proposal received so much support, so she nodded and said, "Perhaps you can try to persuade them first. If that doesn't work, we'll execute Duke Saint Priest's plan."
Joseph bowed to her with a smile, "I promise I won't let you down."
…
That afternoon, Joseph explained his North African strategy to Joann in his study: "The Tunisian Guard is the only entry point."
"They've always married within their own ranks, refusing to integrate with the local Tunisian population, and they've harshly oppressed the locals. This means they don't have any 'friends' there."
He suddenly changed the subject: "Do you know what politics is?"
"Huh? Politics?"
Joseph answered directly: "Politics is about making as many allies as possible and reducing your enemies to as few as possible."
"And the Tunisian Guard has made the mistake of isolating themselves as a minority."
"Meanwhile, they control the vast majority of Tunisia's wealth."
"And they no longer have the overwhelming military superiority they did a century ago."
"So now, if someone guides the Tunisians, the Guard could easily become a 'sacrifice.'"
Joann nodded thoughtfully. "Your Highness, what should we do then?"
"We need to work on identity and the church."
Joseph detailed his plan, but he noticed that Joann seemed somewhat bewildered. Internally, Joseph shook his head. It seemed this consul might have trouble executing the plan perfectly.
Tunis was too important to leave to chance. Joseph sighed—it was better for him to go there personally.
The Petit Trianon.
Queen Marie's head shook so vigorously that her swan-like hairstyle nearly came undone.
"My dear, how can you go to North Africa?! It's too dangerous! I've heard there are lions everywhere. No, absolutely not!"
Joseph gestured toward the door. "Croxall and the others will ensure my safety."
"There are not only lions but also poisonous snakes and scorpions…"
Joseph, feeling helpless, resorted to a trick he had learned from Clementine. He moved closer to the Queen, gently taking her arm and slowly swaying as he softly pleaded, "Please, I'll be careful. Or I could bring more soldiers."
"There are even cannibals…"
Joseph hugged the Queen tightly, burying his head in her chest, and continued to plead, "Fine, I'll stay on the ship the whole time. Will that be okay? If you still don't agree, I won't bother you again in the future!"
Queen Marie thought for a moment—since the Mediterranean didn't have deadly storms, this might be acceptable.
She finally relented, "Take all your attendants with you, eat on time, and write me a letter at least every three days."
"Alright, alright, I'll do everything you say." Joseph kissed the Queen on the cheek, "Thank you, dear mother. I love you the most!"
"And I love you too, my little heart!" The Queen chuckled, playfully tweaking her son's nose. "I'll talk to Duke Saint Priest about which corps should escort you."
"Oh, there's no need to trouble him. I've already arranged with the Duchess of Villars; her husband will personally lead 3,000 men from the Moulins Regiment to accompany me."
Queen Marie quickly added, "3,000 might be a bit few; let's assign you 500 Swiss Guards as well."
The Swiss Guards were the personal guards of King Louis XVI, the most loyal Swiss mercenary corps.
…
More than ten days later.
In the northern Mediterranean, near the Côte d'Azur.
The majestic fourth-rate warship, Avant, sailed straight southward with its sails full and cutting through the waves.
In its officer's cabin, Perna lay weakly on a bed, her limbs limp, eyes half-closed, her breath labored, and her forehead beaded with sweat as if she had just done heavy labor.
Joseph placed an ice-cold towel on her forehead and sighed, "Did you really not know you get seasick this badly?"
"I… I've never been on a ship before," the girl's emerald green eyes, like those of an elf, were filled with guilt as she weakly said, "I'm truly sorry, Your Highness. I came to look after you, and now you're taking care of me…"
"It's alright, no need to be so formal." Joseph waited until she fell into a deep sleep before returning to the ship's officer meeting room, where a few historians were poring over documents.
"Thank you for your hard work. Have you made any progress?"
The scholars quickly stood and bowed, and the leading one said, "Your Highness, the people of Tunis are mainly descended from Arabs who came from Egypt and Berbers. As for their connection to France… it seems that 200 years ago, Emperor Charles I of the Holy Roman Empire conquered this area…"
Joseph nodded, "Go on."
This was the task he had set for the historians—to argue that the Tunisians and the French shared common ancestry. After all, to turn strangers into allies, nothing worked better than claiming kinship.
The historian wiped some sweat from his brow and continued, though his voice had dropped noticeably.
"And France was also part of the Holy Roman Empire back then…"
Of course, the Holy Roman Empire that split into Germany, France, and Italy was nothing like the Holy Roman Empire of later years, which was neither holy, nor Roman, nor much of an empire.
The scholar felt like he was stretching his ability to force connections to the limit.
"So, if you trace it back, the French and Tunisians could be considered descendants of the Roman Empire."
"Excellent! That's what I needed." Joseph nodded in approval. "Please gather more historical evidence and pass it on to the writers to draft a manuscript."
The historian's eyelid twitched, and with a hint of desperation, he said, "Your Highness, how could there possibly be evidence for this…"
"Well, it doesn't have to be too strict," Joseph winked at him, "Sometimes, the writers can help you come up with evidence."
"This… as you wish, Your Highness."
By the time Avant reached Cape Bon, a document titled An Analysis of the Origins of Tunisia was already on Joseph's desk.
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