Chapter 198: The Davout Brothers Reunite During Maneuvers
Joseph's North African strategy never intended for the French army to push through solely by force.
Such an approach would not only exhaust the troops and be expensive but also risked fierce resistance from local North African forces.
Countless historical examples have shown that defeating the main enemy forces is often not difficult, but subsequently clearing out scattered local armed groups is the most vexing challenge. For instance, the world's leading superpower later crushed the primary opposing forces in just over ten days, yet spent two trillion US dollars over the next decade dealing with guerrillas, only to ultimately lose.
Therefore, the best approach was to mobilize local North African forces to serve French interests, with a small contingent of elite French troops acting as a crucial balancing factor to sway the ultimate outcome.
French diplomats and the Police Intelligence Bureau had already been working towards this goal in Algiers for quite some time.
...
Joseph's carriage was still a quarter of a kilometer from the Paris Police Academy's training grounds when he heard the clear call of a bugle.
A column of police cadets, impeccably dressed in their uniforms, jogged forward in two lines. Every two meters, the person at the rear of the line would halt. Soon, a straight human wall formed, stretching from the training ground's entrance to Joseph's carriage.
At a loud command from an officer, the two lines of cadets simultaneously turned and lowered their rifles, the rifle butts hitting the ground with a resounding crack.
On the training grounds, several neat formations were already arrayed.
At the front, nearly a thousand senior cadets from the first intake were lined up by battalion. Behind them were even more new cadets from the second intake, whose formations were noticeably less precise. Joseph had already reviewed Friant's report, which indicated that the second intake of the police academy had enrolled a remarkable 3,000 students.
This impressive number was due to the academy providing free room and board, being fully open to commoners, and even offering scholarships for good performance. Many commoner youths from far-flung regions beyond Paris, upon learning of the academy's generous conditions, would travel for half a month to enroll.
Crucially, Joseph now had the financial means to support such a large number of cadets. Their complete sets of brand-new uniforms alone cost over 120 livres. It was worth noting that the French treasury had not allocated a single denier to the Paris Police Academy.
Behind the new cadets of the second intake stood over a thousand soldiers wearing older uniforms and appearing to be, on average, older. These were Berthier's Legion, present to observe the ceremony.
Joseph alighted from his carriage and, surrounded by high-ranking military and police officials like Friant and Berthier, made his way to the center of the reviewing stand. He raised a hand in greeting to the cadets and soldiers on the field.
The thousands on the training ground immediately stood at attention, chests out, and saluted with their caps, erupting simultaneously in a thunderous roar: "Long live His Majesty the King! Long live His Royal Highness the Crown Prince!"
Joseph smiled and returned the salute with his cap, then delivered a customary speech in his capacity as head of the academy. Such a speech would henceforth be delivered here at least once a year.
Subsequently, the formations of all cadets and soldiers marched past the reviewing stand in order, accepting the Crown Prince's inspection.
Behind Joseph, Mirabeau, the newly appointed Minister of Industry who had been invited to observe, watched the impressive and well-trained formations before him with profound shock.
For the past few days, he had been puzzled as to why the Crown Prince wanted him to attend the police academy's matriculation ceremony. Only now did he finally understand: the Crown Prince was showcasing his power to him. These weren't mere police cadets; this was the Crown Prince's army!
He had previously only perceived the young Crown Prince as being deeply knowledgeable about industrial development, capable of bringing prosperity and hope to French industry.
But at this moment, he finally realized that the Crown Prince was undoubtedly a brilliant monarch. While advancing industrial development and guarding against potential famine, he had recently consolidated numerous banks, and now he had created a powerful army here.
Most importantly, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had achieved all of this without drawing attention!
Mirabeau sighed inwardly, thinking that perhaps in a few years, France would once again see a king as great as the Sun King. No, perhaps even more dazzling than the Sun King!
Loud marching chants from the formations broke Mirabeau's thoughts. He looked out at the training ground and suddenly noticed that the rifles carried by the soldiers were very peculiar, certainly not any model produced in Charleville. He was passionate about hunting and well-versed in common firearms.
He turned his head and quietly asked the Commissioner of Police beside him, "Viscount of Besançon, do you know what kind of rifles they are using? I don't think I've ever seen them before."
The latter promptly replied, "They are Auguste Model 1788 Percussion Muskets. The latest models manufactured by the Royal Armory, personally established by His Majesty the King."
Currently, the Royal Armory near Versailles and the armory in Saint-Étienne were both operating smoothly. The standardized production model was showing initial success; if operating at full capacity, the two factories could produce over 2,000 percussion cap muskets monthly.
This was even with Joseph directing Saint-Étienne to focus most of its efforts on researching cannon casting; otherwise, the output would be even higher.
Under Lavoisier's direction, the Royal Gunpowder Bureau had long since mastered the preparation technology for mercury fulminate, effortlessly producing 30,000 copper percussion caps each month.
With production support from both sides, the Paris Police Academy and Berthier's Legion had already fully re-equipped with the new percussion cap muskets, and all their shooting drills were conducted using these new firearms.
After all ceremonies concluded, Joseph announced that the first intake of cadets would immediately begin their practical field training.
The first-intake cadets were evidently not informed beforehand and looked very surprised.
However, the instructors' commands quickly made them realize that the practical exercise had already begun.
This was also specifically arranged by Joseph, with the aim of testing the troops' mobilization capability and response speed.
The instructors' urging voices echoed everywhere: "Hurry! Everyone, move it!"
"This is war! Start running!"
"The last company to assemble will run five laps as punishment!"
The cadets did not fall into disorder but dispersed in an orderly fashion under the command of their respective company commanders, quickly running back to their barracks.
The cavalry and artillery, meanwhile, galloped towards the stables.
To Mirabeau's surprise, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince invited him to have lunch in the military camp.
He sat among hundreds of police officers, looking at the simple tableware before him, feeling quite awkward. However, glancing around, he noticed that the Crown Prince and the Commissioner of Police were already eating heartily.
He reluctantly followed suit and then realized that although the food looked coarse, it tasted decent. It contained meat, vegetables, and bread—everything one would expect—and was nearly on par with the officer's rations he had received during his cavalry service years ago.
Once lunch concluded, all the cadets stood up simultaneously, watching the Crown Prince depart the dining hall. When Mirabeau saw the fervent reverence and trust in their eyes, he immediately understood the profound significance of this meal.
Upon returning to the training grounds with the Crown Prince's entourage, Mirabeau was astonished to find that most of the infantry had already completed their departure preparations. Not far away, artillerymen were driving horses, pulling several large cannons towards them.
He checked his watch; only a little over half an hour had passed since the officers had given the order to assemble!
Two words immediately filled his mind: 'elite troops'.
Another half an hour later, over a thousand fully armed police cadets marched in neat columns, leaving the training grounds in a mighty procession.
Of course, this speed was achievable only without considering logistical preparations, as the assembly of logistical supplies would take at least several days.
The large force of first-intake cadets marched south, maintaining a high-speed pace, finally reaching Toussy on the afternoon of the sixth day.
After resting there for another day, they finally met their training adversaries for this exercise: the Third Infantry Regiment of the Moulins Regiment, led by André, who had just arrived from Moulins.
After the two forces converged, André first met with the police cadets' commander to discuss the upcoming training matters, and then they had dinner together.
Once all official business concluded, André eagerly made his way to the police cadet camp. Guided by a police academy instructor, he finally met the young Second Lieutenant, who was not yet twenty years old.
The young man and André first saluted each other with their caps, then warmly embraced.
André pulled the Second Lieutenant back a bit, smiling as he looked him up and down. "My dear Nicolas, you've finally become a real officer!"
The young man named Nicolas, full of high spirits and energy, declared, "Perhaps before long, I too can become a great regimental commander like you, my dear brother."
"Haha, that day will come. But for now, you've just graduated, so gain more experience and don't think about anything else," André said, patting his younger brother's shoulder. "Actually, I believe that among us Davout, you will be the most accomplished in the future.
"You've always been smarter than me, and serving under the Crown Prince, you're bound to rise much faster than I did."
The brothers hadn't seen each other in over two years, so they chatted and laughed as they walked towards the edge of the camp.
"Wow, your uniforms are really splendid! Look at those sharp edges!"
Nicolas nodded. "It's said that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince commissioned famous Parisian designers for them. Oh, you haven't even seen the winter uniforms yet; those are truly magnificent, made entirely of wool. I hear one costs 70 livres."
André looked down at his own old uniform, almost shedding a tear of envy, and quickly changed the subject. "By the way, when did you set out? How did you arrive a day earlier than us?"
"We left Paris last Wednesday, brother. It was high-speed marching the whole way; it wore me out completely. You know, we never had such forced marches in military school."
André's eyes widened. "You mean you only marched for six days in total? It's nearly 160 kilometers from Paris to Toussy!"
160 kilometers meant the police cadets marched over 26 kilometers a day. This was an astonishing speed in the 18th century.
It was important to note that the Moulins Regiment had also set out last Wednesday, but its journey was less than 120 kilometers, and they took one day longer than the police cadets.
This was the result of the Paris Police Academy's rigorous physical training. In fact, if not for the need to maintain marching formations, the cadets' physical stamina would allow them to cover another ten or so kilometers daily without issue.
Nicolas nodded. "These cadets at the academy have excellent physical endurance. I heard they often train by running four kilometers with full packs. I tried it once a few days ago and could only barely keep up with the slower ones among them."
Nicolas had attended the Paris Military Academy, and although he had studied very diligently and had excellent physical fitness during his time there, without systematic cross-country training, he still nearly failed to keep up with the police cadets.
André frowned upon hearing this. "If what you say is true, then my regiment will likely face a very tough challenge in this exercise."
But he immediately smiled again. "Fortunately, I brought one of Moulins' finest regiments. Even if we can't match your marching speed, we'll certainly win back some ground in drills, marksmanship, and the like."
"That's hard to say," Nicolas remarked, looking at his brother with a strange expression. "Do you know how the police academy trains for shooting?"
"How do they train?"
"Before, with flintlock muskets, it was ten shots every three days. After switching to percussion cap muskets, the Dean of Academic Affairs said we needed to quickly familiarize ourselves with the new weapon, so it changed to five shots every day."
"Five shots every day?!" André gasped sharply; his regiment fired that many only every two weeks.
He suddenly noticed a term his brother had used. "What is this 'percussion cap musket' you mentioned?"
Nicolas pointed to the musket carried by a police cadet patrolling nearby. "Look, that's it. I have one too, but it's over there. It's said to be a new rifle designed by His Majesty the King, though some say His Royal Highness the Crown Prince designed it. When you fire it, you don't need to pour in priming powder; you just insert a copper cap. Oh, like this one..."
As he spoke, he took a percussion cap from his waist pouch and handed it to his brother. "This rifle reloads three or four seconds faster than a Charleville, and its range is a bit longer too."
André's face darkened, and he was already wondering how he would explain to his wife, the Duchesse de Villars, if his veteran soldiers lost to police cadets who had been training for less than a year.
The next morning, with the boom of a cannon, the joint exercise between the Moulins Regiment and the first-intake cadets of the Paris Police Academy officially began.
According to the rules, whichever side reached the Champ de Mars in Paris first would "occupy" its high ground, becoming the more advantageous defensive force. The later arrivals would be forced into an assault.
Just two hours later, André received a report from his scouts that the "enemy forces" had already begun their march.
He looked through his telescope in surprise and indeed saw that the police cadets had set out in neat formations.
"How is this possible?" he turned to his chief of staff. "Did they prepare in advance?"
The chief of staff quickly raised his own telescope. "That's impossible, Commander. I had men supervising them; they absolutely wouldn't... Wait, they didn't bring any supply wagons?"
"Hmm?" André observed more closely and saw that his chief of staff was correct.
A smile immediately spread across his face. "These inexperienced youngsters will soon have to stop and wait for their supply convoy."
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