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Chapter 1014: Ali's First Taste of Fortune

As McCracken listened to the French Crown Prince, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

He could already envision the scene: countless Irish peasants, driven by the hope of selling their wheat for a better price, brandishing their hoes in a frenzied struggle against the British.

Before this, when they had toured the countryside giving speeches, they had received almost no response except from the minor gentry.

He suddenly realized that their previous revolutionary strategy might have been deeply flawed.

Joseph continued to map out the blueprint for him. "Once you have a massive following from the populace, you can begin training an army. To withstand a British encirclement, you will need at least a hundred thousand men."

This number wasn't something he had pulled out of thin air. Given the social mobilization capabilities of this era, four million Irish people could, at their limit, easily conscript a hundred thousand soldiers.

McCracken, however, felt a bit lacking in confidence. "That might not be easy, Your Highness."

"You must understand, the British secret police watch us very closely. Never mind a hundred thousand; if we even attempt to train more than three thousand men at once, it will immediately trigger their alarms."

Joseph shook his head helplessly. "Do you know the difference between a village patrol, a customs enforcement unit, a shooting club, and a regular army?"

"No, they only differ in name," Joseph countered. "As long as they know how to use a gun, understand commands, and maintain a formation, they are an army."

"You hold significant influence over Irish local administration. You can form various organizations under these guises. The British secret police won't care if an Irish customs unit suddenly gains a few hundred more members."

"Building on that, you can implement a rotational training model."

"Each time, recruit more people for training than the official roster requires, and keep half for actual duty. A year later, find an excuse to discharge the majority and bring in a new batch of recruits. Repeat the cycle."

"In a few years, through these security details and patrol teams, you will have accumulated tens of thousands of trained soldiers."

"Oh, regarding the training itself, I can send instructors to assist you. At the same time, you should select promising military talent and send them to military academies in Italy or Poland for further study."

McCracken nodded vigorously, his excitement palpable. "You are absolutely right! I will relay your plan to Mr. Tone the moment I return!"

Joseph decided it was time to give the Irish a tangible incentive, so he smiled and added:

"France and Ireland will forever be the firmest of allies."

"To show my support for the cause of Irish freedom, I will provide you with thirty thousand flintlock muskets. They will be delivered in batches by smuggling vessels."

"Of course, you must hide these weapons carefully and only bring them out when the critical moment arrives."

During the previous wars with the Anti-French Coalition, France had captured over a hundred thousand flintlock muskets of various makes.

Furthermore, as the old French army began its transition to the new percussion cap muskets, there were another sixty to seventy thousand Charleville flintlocks being decommissioned.

So, even though Joseph had been giving guns away left and right, he still held a massive surplus of flintlocks in storage.

Afterward, Joseph summoned Lavalette, the Deputy Director of the Security Bureau, and instructed him to draft a "guidebook" for activities within Britain for the Irish rebels.

When Lavalette began selecting a liaison to be sent to Ireland, McCracken insisted that Portier be the one for the job.

After a brief conversation with Portier, Lavalette agreed to the request. Portier was indeed quick-witted, reacted sharply, and was fluent in English—perfect for a liaison. Moreover, since he was already deeply involved in the affairs of the Irish resistance, sending him saved them from having to go through another round of security clearances.

Portier was initially a bit hesitant, but when Lavalette transferred him directly into the Security Bureau and granted him the rank of Second Lieutenant, the young man accepted gladly. The salary in the Security Bureau was significantly higher than that of a regular officer, and there were bonuses for completing missions, which would go a long way in easing his family's financial struggles.

As dusk approached, the Deputy Director of the Security Bureau departed with the two men. Joseph was preparing to relax and head to dinner with Alexandra when Talleyrand arrived in a hurry, handing him a "telegram" received from a Chappe signal tower.

"Your Highness, this just came from Baron Dalson. It contains the terms proposed by Constantinople."

Joseph skimmed the report quickly and couldn't help but frown slightly. "The Ottoman Janissaries are truly and utterly corrupt."

"However, taking this opportunity to establish contact with Muhammad Ali is a good thing."

Judging by this Ali's cunning and boldness, he was almost certainly the same man who would become the King of Egypt in history.

The Mamluks were a group of local Egyptian power-mongers who were impossible to work with. To clear them out in the future, he would likely need to rely on Muhammad Ali's capabilities.

Talleyrand asked quickly, "Your Highness, shall we agree to his demands?"

Joseph thought for a moment and shook his head. "The cost of hiring Albanians is very low; there's no need for a million francs."

"Tell him I will give him only three hundred and fifty thousand francs, but I can increase the number of flintlocks to twenty thousand, along with eight cannons."

"If this cooperation goes well, I will have other business for him in the future."

"Yes, Your Highness."

...

Late November 1794.

At the northern Albanian port of Lezhë.

Muhammad Ali watched as soldiers hauled crates of weapons off the steamship, a smile spreading across his face as he stroked his beard.

This French Crown Prince knew how to do business; even his counter-offer hit exactly what Ali wanted most.

He wasn't actually that short on cash. In a wealthy place like the Ottoman Empire, if one was diligent enough with corruption, amassing several hundred thousand francs over seven or eight years wasn't difficult.

But he knew that money alone was useless. An official higher than him could find any excuse to seize everything he owned at any time.

Flintlock muskets were the only things one could truly rely on!

And the French Crown Prince had not only sent the rifles he desired most but had even included cannons.

Those were the latest European models, with accuracy and power far exceeding the standard equipment of the Ottoman army.

By using his network of connections in Albania, he only needed to shell out a hundred and fifty thousand francs in bribes to call up nearly twenty thousand soldiers—the bravest warriors from the various tribes.

Indeed, he had no intention of using the troops Constantinople had assigned him to harass Austria. Those few thousand Janissaries were accustomed to luxury and decadence; they couldn't fight half as well as the "savage" Albanians.

He ordered several officers who had followed him for years to distribute the newly arrived weapons to the Albanian troops, followed by a week of rudimentary training. These tribal warriors knew how to shoot, but they were sorely lacking in experience when it came to marching and formations.

Soon after, he left the Janissaries behind to continue suppressing the Greek rebels while he led his Albanian army toward southern Serbia.

Along the way, he launched continuous raids on Serbian tribes, using the attacks as combat training for his ragtag bunch while simultaneously collecting large amounts of supplies and "military funds."