Chapter 212: The Crown Prince's Personal Expedition
Queen Mary turned the document Joanne submitted regarding the situation in Tunisia, though she had already read it several times yesterday. Frowning, she asked,
"Attacks, more attacks—who is behind all this?"
Joanne stood at the end of the conference table, cautiously replying,
"It's still unclear at the moment, Your Majesty. However, the attacks seem to be linked to the Tunisian Janissaries."
Queen Mary asked a few more questions about the specifics of the Tunisian situation, then looked at the ministers present.
"What are your thoughts on this matter?"
The Duke of Orleans glanced at the empty seat of Foreign Minister Vergennes—who Brienne had dispatched to Northern Europe to "monitor" the war between Sweden and Russia—and felt a pang of emptiness. Less than a year ago, his faction had occupied nearly half the seats in cabinet meetings; now, he was fighting a solitary battle.
He cleared his throat and nodded to the Queen.
"Your Majesty, in fact, such situations often occur in colonies around the world. For instance, Congo, South Africa, Peru—riots erupt every so often. The Americans even completely drove the British out of the thirteen states.
"Therefore, I believe we should make every effort to avoid a similar situation in Tunisia as the British faced."
A week prior, he had secretly met with Hartley, the British Ambassador to France. The ambassador wanted him to help influence French policy to withdraw from Tunisia.
His reward would be significant political benefits, including having Vergennes preside over an agreement with Britain that would appear favorable to France, helping him gain political prestige. As Vergennes was now the Duke of Orleans's only ally in the cabinet, preserving him was crucial, so the Duke of Orleans immediately agreed.
"I also believe we shouldn't devote excessive energy to Tunisia," Monnot declared, raising a plump arm. "It's full of infidels, and our financial situation doesn't allow for wasting money in North Africa."
Usually, matters related to immigration fell under his purview as Interior Minister, but this time, at Joseph's suggestion, Brienne had entrusted Tunisian immigration affairs to Mirabeau.
Monnot watched a "fat chunk" of business, involving tens of millions of livres, slip through his fingers. Deeply resentful, he began to actively work towards sabotaging the entire endeavor.
Brienne heard the words "financial situation" and immediately felt a surge of agreement. However, as the North African initiative was being spearheaded by the Crown Prince, he refrained from expressing his opinion.
Joseph frowned at the remarks. Tunisia was the linchpin of his North African strategy; how could he easily abandon it when it had just begun to show promise?
Not only was he counting on Tunisia's fertile lands to alleviate next year's famine, but he also couldn't allow the millions of livres already invested in immigration expenses to go to waste.
Just as he was about to speak, the War Minister stood up, raising a fist as he declared loudly,
"If a handful of thugs scare us into retreating from a newly acquired colony, I dare say France will become the laughingstock of all Europe tomorrow! In truth, merely deploying a decent legion would be enough to show those North African natives what we're capable of!"
The military, naturally, hoped for a large-scale deployment to Tunisia. This would make the monarchy reliant on the military, and it would also mean substantial war funds passing through his hands—a prime opportunity for enrichment.
The Navy Minister and Mirabeau immediately expressed their agreement.
One was eyeing the military budget, while the other hoped to use Tunisia's market and resources to support industrial development.
For a while, the proponents and opponents engaged in a fierce war of words.
Queen Mary blinked her clear blue eyes, looking back and forth between the two sides of ministers. She soon realized that there seemed to be more ministers against withdrawing from Tunisia.
So, she raised a hand to signal for silence and stated in a regal voice, "I have made my decision."
She gestured to the War Minister. "Marquis Saint-Priest, please submit a plan for reinforcing troops in Tunisia to me as soon as possible."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Emerging from the conference hall, Joseph's brow remained furrowed.
Although the cabinet had decided not to abandon Tunisia, it was clearly headed towards getting entangled in a counter-insurgency.
This was completely different from his original plan—a large-scale counter-insurgency would not only drain enormous funds but might also fail to fully subdue the Tunisians for a year or two, and even sow seeds of hatred for France in their hearts.
This would lead to endless trouble in the future.
Joseph shook his head, having yet to devise an effective solution. He returned to his study and laid out the vast amount of North African data Joanne had brought back. He meticulously studied it page by page, covering everything from the political and military structure to customs, traditions, and religious culture.
After an unknown amount of time, Eman quietly entered for the tenth time, carefully trimming the wicks of the candles one by one.
Joseph opened a document on Tunisia's demographic composition and read a description of its Janissaries: "...As Tunisia's highest-ranking class, the Janissaries have historically practiced endogamy, forming a closed group..."
A thought suddenly struck him. He quickly located information on Tunisia's religious powers, and his eyes lit up. 'This is it!'
To be safe, he gestured to Eman, who was nearby. "Would you please fetch Baron Joanne?"
"Ah? Your Highness, it's already one in the morning..."
"That late? Oh, then first thing tomorrow."
...
Two days later.
The interim cabinet meeting reconvened.
Marquis Saint-Priest, brimming with satisfaction, presented a thick stack of plans for troop reinforcement in Tunisia to Queen Mary.
Seeing the Queen bewilderedly leafing through the military plan, he quickly cleared his throat and began explaining its main points.
"Your Majesty, we plan for General Kellermann to lead twenty-five thousand soldiers to Tunisia. With the three thousand soldiers already there, we will divide our forces to control here, here, and here..."
He spoke, pointing to the map of Tunisia on the table. "Then, a mobile force will systematically clear out all major towns..."
After briefly outlining the operational deployment, Marquis Saint-Priest continued,
"According to our estimates, the initial cost for the entire military operation will be approximately ten million livres. Further funds will be allocated based on the developing situation.
"Furthermore, for unified command, it will be necessary to incorporate Berthier's legion under General Kellermann's command."
"That much money?!" Queen Mary exclaimed, looking at him in shock.
The Duke of Orleans interjected at the opportune moment.
"If the conflict can't be resolved quickly, it wouldn't be surprising to throw in tens of millions of livres. I still believe that abandoning Tunisia is the most correct choice."
"What are you saying?" the War Minister retorted, clearly displeased. "We will achieve victory within a few months!"
"That's not certain..."
Joseph suddenly stood up, interrupting them both.
"I also do not advocate abandoning Tunisia!"
Marquis Saint-Priest immediately cast an approving look his way.
"Praise be to your courage and wisdom, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince!"
Joseph merely gave him a faint glance, thinking, 'Praise my foot! How dare you try to poach my Guards Corps? I'll settle this with you later!'
He continued in a loud voice, "However, I don't think we need to rush to send more troops. We can first try to persuade the unruly Tunisians."
"Persuade?"
Aside from Joanne and Mirabeau, who were already aware, everyone else in the hall cast strange looks his way.
"Exactly." Joseph nodded earnestly. "There are always reasonable people in Tunisia.
"And persuading them will only cost a few hundred thousand livres."
Joanne and Mirabeau immediately voiced their agreement, as Joseph had instructed them beforehand.
Brienne, startled by the ten-million-livre military expense, also quickly expressed his support for the "persuasion" method.
The Duke of Orleans, uncharacteristically, sided with the Crown Prince. 'Persuasion? Ridiculous! It's clearly just a child's fantasy, completely devoid of political experience.' But as long as no troops were sent, he could report success to the British ambassador.
Queen Mary hadn't expected her son's approach to garner so much support, so she nodded.
"Perhaps you can try to persuade them first. If that doesn't work, then we can proceed with Marquis Saint-Priest's plan."
Joseph smiled and bowed to her.
"I will not disappoint you."
...
That afternoon, Joseph explained the North African deployment to Joanne in his study. "The Tunisian Janissaries are the only breakthrough point.
"They have always practiced endogamy, refusing to integrate with the local Tunisians and actively oppressing them. This has left them with no 'friends' in the region."
He abruptly changed the subject. "Do you know what politics is?"
"Ah? Politics?"
Joseph directly stated the answer. "Politics is about making sure you have many allies and few enemies.
"And the Tunisian Janissaries have made precisely this mistake. They've made themselves a minority.
"At the same time, they control the vast majority of Tunisia's wealth.
"Furthermore, they no longer possess the overwhelming military advantage they did a century ago.
"Therefore, all that's needed now is someone to guide the Tunisians, and the Janissaries will easily become 'sacrifices.'"
Joanne nodded thoughtfully. "Your Highness, what should we do then?"
"We must approach this from two angles: identity and the church."
Joseph explained his plan in detail, but found Joanne somewhat bewildered, and couldn't help but shake his head inwardly. 'It seems this consul will struggle to ensure the plan is executed perfectly.'
Tunisia was too important to fail. Joseph sighed. It would be safer to go in person.
Petit Trianon.
Queen Mary shook her head so hard that her swan-shaped coiffure nearly came undone.
"My dear, how can you go to North Africa?! It's far too dangerous! They say it's crawling with lions. No, absolutely not!"
Joseph gestured towards the door. "Clauzel and his men will ensure my safety."
"It's not just lions; there are venomous snakes, scorpions..."
Joseph, resigned, pulled out a "secret weapon" he had learned from Clémentine. He stepped forward, took hold of the Queen's arm, and swayed it slowly and evenly, murmuring,
"Please! I'll be careful. Or, I can bring even more soldiers."
"There are cannibals there too..."
Joseph hugged the Queen tightly, burying his head in his mother's chest, and continued to plead,
"Alright, I'll just stay on the ship the whole time, how about that? If you still don't agree, I won't come to see you again!"
Queen Mary thought for a moment. There weren't any deadly storms in the Mediterranean, so this seemed acceptable.
She finally relented. "Take all your attendants, eat on time, and write me a letter at least every three days."
"Yes, yes, I'll listen to everything you say." Joseph gave Queen Mary a light kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, dear mother, I love you most!"
"And I love you most too, my little darling!" The Queen chuckled, playfully tapping her son's nose. "Then I'll go discuss with Marquis Saint-Priest to see which legion should escort you."
"Oh, no need to trouble him. I've already arranged it with the Duchesse de Villars; her husband will personally lead three thousand Moulins Legion soldiers with me."
Queen Mary quickly said, "Three thousand men is a bit few. I'll assign you another five hundred Swiss Guards."
The Swiss Guards were Louis XVI's personal guard, the most loyal Swiss mercenary corps.
...
More than ten days later.
Northern Mediterranean, off the French Riviera.
The formidable fourth-rate warship, the Advance, sailed southward, its sails billowing, pushing through the waves.
In its officer's cabin, Perna lay weakly on the bed, her limbs limp, eyes half-closed, nostrils flaring. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, as if she had just completed some strenuous physical labor.
Joseph placed a cold towel on her head and sighed.
"Did you never know you suffered from such severe seasickness before?"
"I... this is my first time on a ship," the girl said weakly, her emerald eyes, like a fairy's, filled with apology. "I'm truly sorry, Your Highness. I meant to look after you during the journey, but instead, you ended up looking after me..."
"It's alright, no need to be so formal." Joseph waited until she had fallen into a deep sleep before returning to the ship's officers' meeting room and addressing the historians poring over documents.
"Gentlemen, your efforts are appreciated. Have you made any progress?"
The scholars quickly rose and bowed. The leader of the group said,
"Your Highness, Tunisia was primarily populated by Arabs and Berbers who came from Egypt long ago. As for their connection to France...
"It seems only Emperor Carlos I of the Holy Roman Empire conquered this region two hundred years ago..."
Joseph nodded. "Please continue."
This was the task he had assigned to the historians—to prove that Tunisians and the French shared a common ancestry. To gather many allies, it was best if everyone was considered kin.
The scholar wiped sweat from his brow, his voice considerably softer.
"And France, too, was originally separated from the Holy Roman Empire."
Of course, the Holy Roman Empire that gave rise to Germany, France, and Italy was a completely different entity from the later Holy Roman Empire. The current Holy Roman Empire was merely a forced association, neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.
The scholar felt as if he was expending all the strained ingenuity of his life.
"So, this, this... if you trace it back, both the French and the Tunisians could be considered citizens of Rome."
"Excellent! That's precisely it," Joseph praised. "Please find more historical evidence and submit it to the writers to draft into manuscripts."
The historian's eyelid twitched, and he said with a hint of a whimper,
"Your Highness, how could there possibly be evidence for that..."
"For matters like this, we don't need to be too strict," Joseph said, winking at him. "Sometimes, the writers can help you conceive the evidence."
"Understood... I will obey your wishes, Your Highness."
By the time the Advance reached the waters off Cape Bon, a document titled "Analysis of Tunisian Origins" was already on Joseph's desk.
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