Chapter 260: Marquis Wellesley's Trip to Morocco
Chapter 261: Marquis Wellesley's Trip to Morocco
The officers in the room all showed pleasant surprise at these words.
Most of them hadn't grasped the importance of the General Staff matter mentioned earlier, even viewing it as merely a means for the Crown Prince to seize military power, so they hadn't felt much excitement.
However, the honor and significance of a corps officially receiving a royal designation were clear to everyone.
Although they had privately referred to themselves as the Crown Prince's Guards Corps, that was, after all, a private bestowal from His Highness. But now, this was a genuine royal title, signed by His Majesty the King himself!
This signified Versailles' recognition of Berthier's Corps and the police academy students, meaning they would henceforth be the "top tier" of the military world!
Imagining how other regular units would show them immense respect and practically drool over the royal insignia on their uniforms filled the officers with unparalleled satisfaction!
Everyone also understands that once they officially became a royal corps, their treatment in all aspects would rise proportionally. Of course, those were just minor perks. . .
The officers instantly rose to attention, chests puffed out, and declared loudly, "Long live His Majesty the King!"
The other corps immediately followed in unison, "Thank you, Your Royal Highness! The Corps' loyalty is eternally yours!"
Yes, they knew clearly that without His Royal Highness, most of them would probably still be aimlessly drifting in some unit, seeing no prospect of advancement, let alone dreaming of a royal designation.
Everything they had now was brought to them by His Highness; how could they not feel grateful?
Joseph smiled, nodding in response, signaling everyone to sit down. After offering a few words of encouragement, he declared the meeting adjourned.
After the other officers departed, Berthier approached Joseph, his face tinged with shame. "Your Highness, the recruitment of noble officers you instructed earlier hasn't gone very smoothly... There are rumors that the officers have secretly formed an 'alliance' to boycott the Guards Corps."
Joseph knew that while most hereditary noble officers were incompetent, they couldn't be tarred with the same brush. Even among Emperor Napoleon's Marshals, there were many officers from the Old Nobility who possessed considerable ability.
Furthermore, the Guards Corps was currently severely lacking in mid-level officers.
Previously, when the corps was smaller, this issue wasn't obvious. But now that he planned to rapidly expand the scale of the new army, the shortage of mid-level officers had become severe—junior officers could be trained by the Paris Police Academy, but mid-level officers required combat experience accumulated over time.
This would take a relatively long time to achieve. The Guards Corps had been established recently, making it difficult to forge enough mid-level officers.
At present, if they could absorb some enlightened Old Nobility officers and provide them with a little training, it would greatly help in quickly forming combat effectiveness.
Moreover, Joseph wasn't so arrogant as to believe that only France's many military academies could train enough French officers, and that he alone, with just one Paris Police Academy, could manage it.
Therefore, integrating existing military academies was also very important.
And military academies were largely still the domain of Old Nobility officers. Even if some less effective academies were closed, significant support from hereditary officers would still be needed to ensure sufficient teaching staff.
Joseph frowned slightly. From what Berthier had just said, the Old Nobility officers' resistance was still quite strong.
However, he could understand it. After all, his military officer reform had shattered their secure livelihood. Although they no longer dared to openly oppose him due to their passive handling of the previous unrest, he truly couldn't do anything about their private boycotts.
Joseph had initially thought that by raising their benefits, he could win over many Old Nobility officers, but he hadn't expected them to be quite so "united."
Berthier hesitated, then spoke: "Your Highness, what do you think? Should we perhaps raise the salary for recruited officers even further..."
Joseph immediately shook his head. "No."
Raising the standard of these hereditary officers too much would definitely cause discontinuation among commoner and minor noble officers.
'How should I integrate these people?' Joseph couldn't help but fall into deep thought...
North Africa.
Meknes, the royal city of Morocco.
Marquis Wellesley, the British Foreign Secretary, looked back at the towering city walls and the burly black guards standing solemnly on either side of the city gate. He turned to the British Consul in Morocco beside him and asked, "This is truly a magnificent city, don't you think, Baron Green?"
The short, middle-aged man nodded. "Yes, Your Lordship, at least among the Maghreb states, it is the largest and most prosperous city."
"Therefore, only it has enough strength to curb the impulses of those adventurers from Versailles."
Marquis Wellesley said this as he and Baron Green re-entered their carriage and headed towards the palace.
The Foreign Secretary glanced at the black cavalry escorting them and frowned, muttering, "Their Sultan's tastes are certainly unique. I mean, they clearly have soldiers who look more... presentable."
Baron Green explained, "A hundred years ago, their Sultan Ismail defeated coastal opponents and established the Alaouite Dynasty with a 'Holy War Army' composed of 20,000 black slave soldiers. Since then, their elite guards have all been black."
"Alright," Marquis Wellesley shrugged. "Whether they are black slaves or Arabs, as long as they are useful on the battlefield. Oh, I recall our Colonel Hyde Parker was once defeated by them."
He was referring to an incident during the Seven Years' War when the British naval Colonel Hyde Parker gratuitously insulted the Moroccan Sultan, resulting in him being captured by a detachment of the Moroccan navy—the Barbary Pirates. The British paid 200,000 silver coins to redeem him.
It was precisely since then that the British had been reluctant to provoke this most powerful nation on the northwestern coast of Africa.
"Do you think Turs will accept your proposal?" Baron Green finally found an opportunity to interrupt the casual chat and brought up the main topic. "I mean, the land west of Ouarsenis is quite vast."
The Turs he mentioned was the Dey of Algiers, and their primary purpose in coming to Morocco was to "broker" a deal between Algiers and Morocco.
"He has no other choice," Marquis Wellesley said with a relaxed expression. "Their council will make him accept it."
Baron Green quietly corrected him, "That is the 'Divan,' and it's quite different from a typical council."
As they spoke, the carriage had already stopped.
This time, they were finally greeted not by Marquis Wellesley's less-favored black guards, but by a light-skinned Berber court official.
The official respectfully bowed to the two men. "Esteemed guests, the great Sultan awaits you."
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