Johanssen
patreon
Chapter 218: The War Council
🕑 Added 2025-02-12 22:26:53 +0000 UTCChapter 218: The War Council
In a room on the second floor of the Palais-Royal, with the doors and windows tightly shut, Madame Sanberan trembled in fear, her whole body shrinking.
Just ten minutes ago, she had been excited to receive an invitation from the Duke of Orléans, but now she was stammering in terror, "D-Duke, I didn't... It was the Duke of Chartres who came to me... And I really didn't know I had that disease."
Her skin was smooth, without any visible symptoms, as she had not yet entered the second stage of syphilis. Many people with strong constitutions could go up to two years after contracting syphilis before showing any noticeable symptoms.
The Duke of Chartres, standing nearby, tried to comfort his father, "Father, the disease of love is nothing to worry about. Even the great King Francis I had it..."
"Shut up!"
The Duke of Orléans roared, cutting him off, and then glared at Madame Sanberan, "Tell me exactly what happened, from the beginning."
"Yes... It was the day you asked me to... to approach the Prince. You know, I failed, he ignored me. Then, suddenly, the Duke of Chartres burst into the room..."
Half an hour later, the Duke of Orléans was in a fit of rage, slamming his fists on the table. The floor of the study was littered with broken teacups and incense burners.
"It's all that damn Louis-Joseph's fault!" His eyes were bloodshot, and he muttered through gritted teeth, "He must have known that Sanberan was sick, and deliberately lured Philippe into that room!
"Yes, that must be it!"
From that day on, his legitimate heir was left with at most 20 years to live—possibly only 10.
Syphilis, in this era, was a terrifying death sentence.
He grabbed a pen holder and threw it to the ground, growling like a beast, "I swear, I will not let you go! I'll tear you all to pieces! Even if it costs me everything!"
...
North Africa, Algiers, Mitidja.
Hollis, the British Consul to Tunisia, dejectedly signed the handover documents and then gave a half-hearted nod to Sir Stuart, the British Consul in Algiers. "The affairs of North Africa are now in your hands. Goodbye, Sir Stuart."
The news of the upheaval in Tunisia had reached London, and the Duke of Leeds' envoy had arrived in Algiers to announce that Stuart would take over all matters related to Tunisia.
Hollis could only lament his bad luck—he had done everything he could, but who could have predicted that the locals would suddenly revolt and show such strong pro-French sentiments?
At dusk, Hollis was alone in his hotel room, packing his belongings. Tomorrow morning, he would board a ship back to Britain.
"Retirement isn't so bad," he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "I can spend my later years enjoying fishing in Worcester."
The sound of the door opening behind him made him think his servant had arrived. Without turning around, he said, "Jamie, how many times have I told you? You don't need to keep asking about the carriage..."
He froze. It wasn't Jamie but a tall man dressed in black who had entered.
"Who are you?"
"Hollis, your work has been utterly disappointing," the man in black said quietly as he closed the door.
Hollis was alarmed. "What... What are you going to do?"
The man in black casually rolled up his sleeves and walked slowly toward Hollis. "Your private actions in inciting Tunisian nobles to attack the French have put the government in a very awkward position."
"No, it was the Duke of Leeds who ordered..." Hollis stopped mid-sentence, realizing the truth. "He sent you, didn't he?"
The man in black didn't answer. Instead, he swiftly pinned Hollis down and slipped a rope around his neck.
The next morning, the innkeeper, after repeatedly reminding the British gentleman that it was time to board his ship and receiving no response, reluctantly opened the door to find the man hanging from the window frame.
...
Stuart had no idea that his former colleague had already passed away. He was focused on preventing France from gaining control of Tunisia.
As he was preparing to visit the Dey of Algiers—the ruler of the region—he was preempted by a visit from an Ottoman envoy, Mr. Saeed.
In the reception room, the portly, mustachioed Ottoman, dressed in traditional garb, nodded to Stuart, "Honorable Consul, I believe you are aware of the dreadful rebellion in Tunisia."
Stuart immediately understood and instructed his servant to bring coffee before inviting the Ottoman to sit. "Yes, it's a tragedy. I've heard that the Tunisians are openly declaring their independence from the Ottoman Empire."
Saeed nodded, "I believe our two countries have common interests in the situation in Tunisia.
"It's clear that if France gains control of the Tunisian ports, British trade in the Mediterranean will immediately suffer."
Stuart stirred his coffee with a silver spoon, maintaining his composure. "And what do you propose?"
"We could jointly recommend that Algiers send troops to suppress the rebellion in Tunisia. This might restore order."
Saeed leaned forward slightly. "I understand that Britain has hired a regiment of Albanian mercenaries to help Algiers resist the French.
"If the Algerian Janissaries also send troops, they could quickly defeat the French forces in Tunisia. I hear there are only about 3,000 French soldiers there."
Stuart's expression remained unchanged. "First, your information is outdated. There are 6,000 French soldiers in Tunisia.
"Second, what can you and your empire contribute to this campaign?"
Saeed smiled and replied, "I can request the Dey of Algiers to send troops in the name of the Sultan, which will significantly reduce opposition within the Algerian council."
Unlike the centralized power of the Janissaries in Tunisia, Algiers was divided among three political factions—the natives, the navy, and the Janissaries. They all sought Ottoman support, so they were very attentive to the Sultan's stance.
Saeed continued, "Once order is restored in Tunisia, I'm sure the great Sultan would consider granting Britain exclusive trading rights there."
The British consul's eyes lit up. "I find your proposal quite intriguing."
Saeed traced a circle in the air with his hand, his face showing a hint of difficulty. "However, this campaign to restore order will require some funding..."
Stuart immediately responded, "I can provide some assistance in that regard. Thirty thousand pounds should be sufficient to fund the campaign."
Saeed was overjoyed and bowed slightly, saying, "I believe our two nations will become the guardians of order in Tunisia."
After further detailed discussions, the two of them set off together for the Dey's palace in Algiers.
Three days later, the Algerian "Divan," or council, convened a full assembly.
The Algerian Janissaries expressed deep sympathy for their "brothers" in Tunisia, who were suffering in the native uprising, and immediately clamored to send troops to Tunisia to crush the rebellion and rescue the Janissaries there.
In reality, ever since Hussein took control of Tunisia with his Janissaries, the Algerians had actively intervened in every political upheaval in Tunisia, reaping enormous benefits each time.
The navy quickly voiced their support as well. Their ships had been sunk by the allied fleet, and their sailors captured. They had been planning revenge ever since.
Now that France had secured ports in Tunisia, posing an even greater threat to them, they naturally wanted to attack Tunisia as soon as possible.
Only the native factions in Algiers were hesitant to get involved in the conflict. However, they were the weakest faction in the Divan, and after receiving the blessing of the Ottoman envoy and the promise of tens of thousands of pounds from the British, they fell silent.
Finally, the Dey of Algiers, Süküri Ali Touous, after securing command of the Albanian mercenaries and gaining permission to plunder Tunisia, announced that the Janissaries would send 11,000 troops, along with 12,000 mercenaries, to suppress the rebellion in Tunisia and restore Janissary control.
...
Paris, Versailles, Petit Trianon
Queen Marie anxiously asked her maid, "Has Baron Vemerel departed?"
Countess de Berninac bowed and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty. He left before dawn and should be nearing Provins by now."
"Good, that's good."
The Queen gently placed her hand on her chest, but her heart continued to race.
Last week, good news had come from Tunisia, saying that the Prince had driven the anti-French Tunisian Janissaries from power, and Tunisia had once again become a paradise for France.
In her joy, she had even agreed to her son's request to land in Tunisia to see its unique scenery.
However, last night, a warning came from Algiers. The Algerian Divan had decided to send an army of 23,000 to intervene in Tunisia.
The thought of her beloved son possibly being caught in the conflict made her write a letter in the middle of the night, ordering her captain of the guard to rush to Tunisia and bring the Prince back.
The door opened, and the Minister of War, the Minister of the Navy, and Chief Minister Brienne entered quickly.
Before they could greet her, the Queen anxiously said, "You've heard about the situation in Tunisia, right? I need to ensure the Prince's safety!"
She muttered to herself, "I should never have let him go there. God, that place is full of savages..."
The Marquis de Saint-Priest and the Minister of the Navy exchanged a glance before stepping forward. "Your Majesty, if the troops in Tunisia immediately cover the Prince's retreat, there shouldn't be any danger.
"However, the 6,000 men we sent there are mostly from newly formed regiments. If, by any chance—I'm just saying if—they move too slowly and the Algerian army blocks them in Tunisia, then..."
Queen Marie quickly asked, "What should we do? Oh, send troops immediately to Tunisia to escort the Prince!"
"As you wish." The Marquis de Saint-Priest bowed and then cautiously asked, "And about the funding?"
"Whatever it costs, have Archbishop Brienne allocate it to you. I want you to send troops immediately!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
...
Tunisia
Joseph was sitting in a tent on the beach, eating freshly grilled seafood while discussing a document with Joanne. "Do you know how many white slaves there are among the Tunisian natives?"
"We haven't yet collected specific data, Your Highness. However, since Tunisia's wealth is concentrated in the hands of the Janissaries, very few Berbers or Arabs could afford to buy white slaves. I estimate there are no more than a few hundred."
"That's good," Joseph nodded. "In that case, the Tunisian government will pay to redeem them. And the white slaves who belonged to the Janissaries will be freed immediately."
According to previous estimates, Tunisia had tens of thousands of white slaves—Europeans who had been captured by pirates. Most of these people were Christians, and after being away from home for so many years, they were unlikely to return to Europe. They would naturally become a core part of France's immigrant population in Tunisia.
Joanne quickly noted this down at the end of the "White Slave Survival Act." "This may cost tens of thousands of livres, Your Highness."
"That's okay. It's worth it," Joseph replied. "By the way, how is the preparation for the civil servant exams going?"
"Everything is progressing smoothly. Mr. Hilada said we should be ready to start the exams by the beginning of next month at the latest."
Joseph nodded. The bureaucratic system of the Tunisian Janissaries had been completely dismantled, and Tunisia needed a new governing structure.
Joseph saw this as an opportunity to test a new system for recruiting civil servants—something akin to modern civil service exams.
Of course, the exams wouldn't just cover humanities, management, and science topics; about half of the questions would focus on knowledge about France and the "Roman identity" concept.
The exam syllabus had already been published, and soon it would be time for "those who study diligently to rise to prominence."
Once enough experience had been gained from these exams, it would serve as a crucial reference for implementing bureaucratic reforms in France.
As Joseph and Joanne were talking, Ishak arrived hurriedly with a special agent from the intelligence service.
The Swiss Guards quickly intercepted them, thoroughly searching them.
Joseph smiled and waved at the Swiss soldiers. "It's okay, let them through."
Ishak stepped forward and bowed, speaking urgently, "Your Highness, this is Veli, who has just arrived from Algiers. He brings news that Dey Touous of Algiers has assembled an army of 23,000, preparing to invade Bizerte from Annaba."
"Oh?!" Joseph stood up abruptly, frowning. "When did this happen?"
"About six days ago, Your Highness."
Given the communication speed of this era, getting news from Mitidja to Tunis in less than a week was already incredibly efficient.
"Notify the senior officers of the Guard Corps and the Moulins Corps to convene a war council immediately. And tell them to bring along some Tunisian Janissary officers."
Just as Joseph was about to leave, Ishak added, "Your Highness, speaking of the Tunisian Janissaries, according to the confessions we've extracted over the past few days, it was indeed the British who incited them to attack the French. The British even paid them generously for it."
Joseph narrowed his eyes slightly. He had long suspected British interference, and now it was confirmed.
He instructed Ishak, "Write a detailed report on this matter and have it sent to Versailles."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Two hours later, in a villa not far from Kasbah Palace, Berthier, André, and more than a dozen other officers stood solemnly around a large conference table, saluting Prince Joseph in unison.
Joseph returned their salute and then looked at the obviously new conference table—Tunisian locals didn't use such tables—and instructed Émond, "Please have this table removed and replaced with one large enough to hold a sand table."
(End of Chapter)
Friends, if you want to read chapters in advance, subscribe to my patreon.
You can also buy the book if you are only interested in reading the novel.
