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The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 212
🕑 Added 2025-05-20 19:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 212: The Crown Prince's Campaign
Queen Marie Antoinette flipped through the report on Tunis submitted by Consul Joan. She had already read it several times the previous day. Frowning, she asked:
"Raids, always raids—who is behind this?"
At the far end of the conference table, Consul Joan answered cautiously:
"That remains unclear, Your Majesty. However, the raids seem to be connected to the Tunisian Guards."
The queen inquired further about specific details regarding Tunis and then turned her gaze to the assembled ministers.
"What are your thoughts on this matter?"
The Duke of Orléans glanced at the empty seat of Foreign Minister Viren—currently dispatched to Northern Europe by Bishop Brienne to monitor the war between Sweden and Russia. A pang of emptiness struck him. Less than a year ago, his faction had commanded nearly half the seats at cabinet meetings. Now, he stood alone.
He cleared his throat and nodded respectfully toward the queen.
"Your Majesty, such incidents are common in colonial territories. Take, for instance, the uprisings in the Congo, South Africa, and Peru—rebellions erupt every so often. The Americans even drove the British entirely out of the Thirteen Colonies.
"Yes, America. The British fought there for seven or eight years, losing over 30,000 soldiers and spending billions of livres, only to meet defeat in the end.
"Therefore, I believe we must avoid finding ourselves in a similar predicament in Tunis."
A week earlier, the Duke of Orléans had met secretly with British Ambassador Hartley, who sought his help in influencing French policy to withdraw from Tunis. The promised reward included substantial political benefits, such as enabling Viren to negotiate a treaty with Britain that would appear favorable to France, bolstering his prestige. Preserving Viren’s position was critical, as he was the duke's sole ally in the cabinet. The duke had readily agreed.
"I, too, think we should not expend too much energy on Tunis," Count Morneau said, raising his plump arm. "The region is full of infidels, and our financial situation does not allow for wasting money in North Africa."
Immigration affairs typically fell under the purview of the Minister of the Interior, but this time Bishop Brienne had handed over Tunisian immigration to Count Mirabeau at the Crown Prince Joseph's behest. Watching a lucrative opportunity worth tens of millions of livres slip from his grasp, Count Morneau was deeply disgruntled and intent on sabotaging the project.
When Bishop Brienne heard the phrase "financial situation," he inwardly agreed but chose to remain silent, as North Africa was strongly advocated by the Crown Prince.
Joseph frowned at the mention of withdrawing. Tunis was the keystone of his North African strategy. The fertile lands there were vital for alleviating next year’s famine, and the kingdom had already invested over a million livres in immigration-related expenditures. He could not allow such a sum to go to waste.
Just as he was about to speak, the Minister of War stood up and exclaimed passionately:
"If a mere handful of bandits can scare us into abandoning our newly acquired colony, I wager France will become the laughingstock of Europe by tomorrow! All it takes is deploying a proper army to show those North African natives the might of France!"
The military naturally supported a large-scale deployment in Tunis. Such an endeavor would make the crown reliant on the army while ensuring the allocation of substantial war funds—an excellent opportunity for profit.
The Minister of the Navy and Count Mirabeau promptly expressed their agreement. The former aimed for military funding, while the latter hoped to leverage Tunisian markets and resources for industrial development.
A fierce debate erupted between supporters and opponents of the withdrawal.
Queen Marie Antoinette blinked her blue eyes, observing both sides. She soon discerned that the majority favored maintaining a presence in Tunis.
Raising her hand for silence, she declared in a commanding voice:
"I have made my decision."
She turned to the Minister of War and instructed:
"Marquis de Saint-Priest, submit a plan for reinforcing Tunis as soon as possible."
"As you command, Your Majesty," he replied.
...
Exiting the council chamber, Joseph's brow remained furrowed.
Although the cabinet had resolved to maintain their hold on Tunis, it seemed increasingly likely that they were heading toward a prolonged pacification campaign.
This outcome deviated entirely from Joseph’s plan. Protracted campaigns would not only drain the treasury but might also sow resentment among the Tunisians, creating a future filled with endless troubles.
Shaking his head, Joseph returned to his study, spreading out the extensive North African materials brought by Consul Joan. From political and military structures to customs, traditions, and religious cultures, he pored over each page.
Time passed unnoticed until Eymond entered for the tenth time, carefully trimming the candle wicks.
Joseph opened a report on the demographic composition of Tunisia and read a description of the Guards:
"...As the highest-ranking social class in Tunis, the Guards have always practiced endogamy, forming an insular community..."
An idea suddenly struck him. He hurriedly searched for documents on Tunisian religious factions and his eyes lit up. This was it!
To ensure his thoughts were sound, he gestured to Eymond.
"Please summon Baron Gedeon."
"At this hour, Your Highness? It’s already past 1 a.m.," Eymond hesitated.
"It’s that late? Oh, then let’s wait until morning."
...
Two days later, another emergency cabinet meeting convened.
The Marquis de Saint-Priest proudly placed a hefty plan for reinforcing Tunis before Queen Marie Antoinette.
As she flipped through the military proposal in confusion, he coughed lightly and began explaining the key points:
"Your Majesty, we propose dispatching 25,000 troops under General Kellermann to Tunis. Combined with the existing 3,000 soldiers there, they will secure these locations..."
He pointed to several spots on a map of Tunis spread across the table.
"Afterward, a mobile force will systematically suppress all major towns..."
Having outlined the plan, the marquis continued:
"The initial cost for this campaign is estimated at 10 million livres, with additional funds required depending on the progress of the conflict.
"Furthermore, for unified command, we suggest incorporating Berthier’s corps under General Kellermann."
"So much money?!" Queen Marie Antoinette exclaimed.
The Duke of Orléans interjected:
"If the conflict drags on, the expenses could easily rise by tens of millions. I still maintain that abandoning Tunis is the wisest choice."
"What nonsense!" the Minister of War retorted angrily. "We’ll achieve victory within months!"
"That’s far from certain..."
Joseph stood abruptly, cutting them off:
"I, too, oppose abandoning Tunis!"
The Marquis de Saint-Priest gave him an approving nod.
"Praise your courage and wisdom, Crown Prince!"
Joseph cast a faint glance at the Marquis de Saint-Priest, thinking to himself, Praise? Nonsense! How dare you covet my Guards Corps? I'll deal with you later. He then raised his voice:
"However, I don’t think there’s any need to rush troop reinforcements just yet. We can first try persuading the rebellious Tunisians."
"Persuade them?"
Except for Consul Joan and Count Mirabeau, who were already privy to the plan, the others in the room shot Joseph puzzled looks.
"That’s right," Joseph replied earnestly. "There must be reasonable people in Tunis.
"And persuading them would only cost a few hundred thousand livres."
As instructed by Joseph earlier, Joan and Mirabeau immediately voiced their support.
Bishop Brienne, intimidated by the prospect of spending ten million livres on a military campaign, also endorsed the persuasive approach.
The Duke of Orléans, unusually, sided with the Crown Prince. Persuasion? How ridiculous! This is nothing but the naïve fantasy of a politically inexperienced child. Still, as long as no troops are sent, I can report success to the British ambassador.
Queen Marie Antoinette, surprised that her son’s suggestion garnered so much support, nodded and said:
"Perhaps you can try persuasion first. If it doesn’t work, we’ll proceed with the Marquis de Saint-Priest’s plan."
Joseph smiled and bowed slightly.
"I assure you, Your Majesty, I will not disappoint you."
...
That afternoon, Joseph discussed the North African deployment with Consul Joan in his study:
"The Tunisian Guards are the only entry point.
"They have always practiced endogamy, refusing to integrate with the local Tunisian populace, and they have ruthlessly suppressed the locals. As a result, they have no 'friends' in the region."
Suddenly, he changed the subject:
"Do you know what politics is?"
"Uh… politics?"
Joseph answered directly:
"Politics is about increasing your allies and reducing your enemies.
"The Tunisian Guards have made a fatal mistake—they’ve isolated themselves as a minority.
"At the same time, they control the vast majority of Tunisian wealth.
"And they no longer enjoy the overwhelming military advantage they once had centuries ago.
"All it takes is for someone to guide the Tunisians, and the Guards will easily become sacrificial lambs."
Joan nodded thoughtfully.
"Your Highness, what should we do then?"
"We must act on two fronts: identity and the Church."
Joseph outlined his plan in detail, only to find Joan looking somewhat bewildered. Shaking his head inwardly, Joseph realized the consul was unlikely to execute the plan flawlessly.
Tunis was too important to leave to chance. Exhaling, Joseph decided it would be safer to handle matters personally.
...
The Petit Trianon Palace
Queen Marie Antoinette shook her head so vigorously that her swan-shaped coiffure nearly came undone.
"My dear, how can you go to North Africa? It’s far too dangerous! I’ve heard there are lions everywhere. Absolutely not!"
Joseph gestured toward the door.
"Kessold and the others will ensure my safety."
"There are not only lions but also venomous snakes and scorpions..."
Joseph, out of options, resorted to a trick he had learned from Clementine. He stepped forward, gently took his mother’s arm, and began to sway it in slow, measured motions, speaking softly:
"Please, Your Majesty. I will be careful. Or, I can bring more soldiers with me."
"There are even cannibals..."
Joseph wrapped his arms tightly around the queen and buried his head in her chest, pleading:
"Fine, I’ll stay on the ship the entire time. Will that do? If you still disagree, I won’t come to see you again!"
Queen Marie Antoinette thought for a moment. The Mediterranean didn’t have life-threatening storms, and this arrangement seemed acceptable.
She finally relented.
"Take all your attendants with you. Eat on time, and write me a letter at least once every three days."
"Of course, of course. Whatever you say." Joseph kissed the queen lightly on the cheek.
"Thank you, dear mother. I love you the most!"
"I love you too, my darling!" The queen smiled and playfully tapped her son’s nose.
"I’ll speak with the Marquis de Saint-Priest about assigning a regiment to escort you."
"There’s no need to trouble him. I’ve already arranged with the Duchess of Villars. Her husband will personally lead 3,000 troops from the Moulins Regiment to accompany me."
Queen Marie Antoinette quickly added,
"Three thousand is too few. I’ll assign you 500 Swiss Guards as well."
The Swiss Guards, the most loyal mercenary corps, were part of King Louis XVI’s personal guard.
...
Ten Days Later
In the northern Mediterranean, near the Côte d’Azur, the formidable fourth-rate warship Advance sailed southward, its sails billowing and cutting through the waves with purpose.
In one of the officer’s cabins, Perna lay weakly on a bed, her limbs limp, her eyes half-closed, and her forehead beaded with sweat. She appeared as though she had just exerted herself immensely.
Joseph placed a cold towel on her forehead and sighed.
"You didn’t know you were this prone to seasickness?"
"I... This is my first time on a ship." The girl’s emerald-green eyes, shimmering like a sprite’s, were full of apology as she spoke weakly.
"I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I wanted to look after you along the way, but now you’re the one taking care of me..."
"It’s no trouble. You don’t need to apologize." Joseph waited until she fell into a deep sleep before returning to the officers’ conference room. There, a few historians were poring over documents.
"Thank you for your hard work. Any progress?" he asked.
The scholars quickly stood and saluted. The lead historian replied,
"Your Highness, the Tunisians mainly descend from Arabs who migrated from Egypt and Berbers. As for their connection to France—
"About two centuries ago, Holy Roman Emperor Charles I conquered this region..."
Joseph nodded.
"Continue."
This was the task Joseph had assigned to the historians: to establish a narrative linking the Tunisians and the French through shared ancestry. If everyone could be considered kin, expanding the "in-group" would be much easier.
Wiping sweat from his brow, the historian continued nervously,
"And France also emerged from the Holy Roman Empire at one point..."
Of course, the Holy Roman Empire that had divided into Germany, France, and Italy was entirely different from the present-day entity that had little claim to being holy, Roman, or an empire.
The historian felt he was exhausting every ounce of his capacity for tenuous reasoning.
"So, uh... technically, both the French and Tunisians could be considered descendants of Rome."
"Excellent! That’s precisely it," Joseph said approvingly.
"Please gather more historical evidence and have the writers craft a compelling narrative."
The historian’s eyelid twitched as he muttered tearfully,
"Your Highness, such evidence doesn’t exist..."
"These matters don’t require absolute rigor." Joseph winked.
"Sometimes, the writers can help you imagine evidence."
"...As you wish, Your Highness."
By the time Advance reached the Cape Bon area, a dossier titled An Analysis of Tunisian Origins lay neatly on Joseph’s desk.
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