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Chapter 197: The Davout Brothers Meet During the Exercises
🕑 Added 2025-01-20 22:24:53 +0000 UTCChapter 197: The Davout Brothers Meet During the Exercises
In Joseph's North African strategy, there was never any intention of using French troops to force their way through the entire campaign. Such an approach would not only heavily strain the troops and be costly, but it could also provoke fierce resistance from local forces in North Africa.
Countless examples throughout history have shown that defeating an enemy's main forces is often not the most challenging part. Instead, the real difficulty lies in eliminating scattered local resistance forces afterward. For instance, the world's later superpower defeated Al-Qaeda in just over ten days but ended up spending 2 trillion dollars over the next decade fighting guerrilla forces, ultimately losing the war.
Therefore, the best approach is to mobilize local North African forces to serve French interests, with a small, elite French force acting as the decisive factor in tipping the balance of power. France's diplomats and the Intelligence Office had been working in Algiers toward this goal for quite some time.
Joseph's carriage was still half a mile away from the Paris Police Academy's training grounds when he heard the sound of a horn in the distance. A group of cadets in crisp uniforms jogged in two columns toward him. As they reached the entrance to the training ground, they stopped at intervals of two meters, quickly forming two straight lines leading from the entrance to Joseph's carriage.
At the commanding officer's loud order, the two columns of cadets turned simultaneously, lowering their rifles until the butts nearly touched the ground, producing a unified and powerful "bang."
The carriage passed between the two lines, and Joseph nodded approvingly at the cadets on either side. From this simple reception, it was clear that these cadets were highly trained. The long lines stretched hundreds of meters, yet they maintained perfect alignment and synchronization, a sure sign of elite training by European standards of the time.
On the training grounds, several formations were already lined up neatly. At the front, organized by battalion, were nearly a thousand cadets from the first class. Behind them stood even more cadets from the second class, though their formations were noticeably less orderly. According to reports from Friant, the second class of the academy had enrolled as many as 3,000 cadets.
This was largely thanks to the academy providing room and board and being fully open to commoners. Those with good performance could even earn scholarships. Many young men from distant parts of France, upon learning of the academy's favorable conditions, had traveled for as long as two weeks to enroll.
Of course, the most critical factor was that Joseph now had the financial means to support so many cadets—just the brand-new uniforms alone cost over 120 livres per cadet. It's worth noting that the French Treasury hadn't allocated a single denier to the Paris Police Academy.
Behind the second-class cadets were over a thousand soldiers in older uniforms, with a slightly older average age. These were members of Bertier's corps who had come to observe the ceremony.
Joseph stepped out of the carriage, flanked by Friant, Bertier, and other military and police officials, and made his way to the center of the reviewing stand. He raised his hand to acknowledge the cadets and soldiers on the field.
Immediately, the thousands of people on the training grounds stood at attention, raised their hats in salute, and erupted in a thunderous cheer: "Long live the King! Long live the Prince!"
Joseph smiled and returned the salute before delivering a routine speech in his capacity as headmaster. Such speeches would become an annual tradition here.
Afterward, all the cadet and soldier formations marched past the reviewing stand to be inspected by the Prince.
Behind Joseph, the newly appointed Minister of Industry, Mirabeau, watched in astonishment as the well-trained, imposing formations passed by. Over the past few days, he had wondered why the Prince had invited him to attend the academy's induction ceremony. Only now did he understand—the Prince was showing him his power. These weren't just cadets; they were the Prince's army!
Initially, Mirabeau had only thought of the young Prince as a savvy promoter of industrial development, someone who could bring prosperity and hope to French industry. But now, he realized that the Prince was a genius ruler—simultaneously advancing industrial development, preparing for possible famine, consolidating the banking sector, and building a powerful army.
Most importantly, the Prince had accomplished all this almost unnoticed!
Mirabeau sighed inwardly, thinking that in the coming years, France might see another king as great as the Sun King—perhaps even greater!
The loud chants of the formations snapped Mirabeau out of his thoughts. He looked back at the training grounds and suddenly noticed that the rifles the soldiers carried were quite unusual—not any model produced by Charleville. As a hunting enthusiast with a good knowledge of firearms, he was intrigued.
He leaned over and quietly asked the police chief beside him, "Viscount de Besançon, do you know what kind of rifles they're using? I've never seen them before."
The chief immediately replied, "Those are Auguste 1788 model percussion cap rifles, newly manufactured by the Royal Armory, which was personally established by the King."
The Royal Armory near Versailles and the armory in Saint-Étienne were now fully operational, and standardized production was starting to show results. If both factories operated at full capacity, they could produce over 2,000 percussion cap rifles per month.
This output was achieved even with Saint-Étienne focusing much of its efforts on cannon production; otherwise, the output could be even higher.
Under Lavoisier's management, the Royal Powder Bureau had long since mastered the production of fulminate of mercury, capable of easily producing 30,000 copper percussion caps per month.
With this production capacity, all cadets at the Paris Police Academy and soldiers in Bertier's corps had been fully equipped with the new percussion cap rifles, and their shooting training now focused on these new weapons.
After all the ceremonies were concluded, Joseph announced that the first-class cadets would immediately begin their field training.
The first-class cadets, apparently not informed in advance, were visibly surprised by the announcement.
However, the instructors' commands quickly made them realize that the field training had already begun.
This was a special arrangement by Joseph, designed to test the troops' real mobilization capabilities and response times.
Instructors' voices echoed across the grounds: "Hurry up! Move faster!"
"This is war—start running!"
"The last unit to assemble will run five extra laps!"
The cadets didn't panic. Under the direction of their respective captains, they quickly dispersed, running back to their barracks. The cavalry and artillery units rushed to the stables.
What Mirabeau didn't expect was that the Prince had invited him to dine with the troops at the camp.
Sitting among hundreds of cadets, looking at the simple tableware before him, Mirabeau couldn't help but feel somewhat out of place. But when he glanced around and saw the Prince and other high-ranking officials already eating heartily, he reluctantly joined in.
To his surprise, despite the food's plain appearance, it tasted fairly decent, with meat, vegetables, and bread all present. It was almost on par with the officer rations he had during his time in the cavalry.
After lunch, all the cadets stood up simultaneously, saluting the Prince as he left the dining hall. Seeing the intense reverence and trust in their eyes, Mirabeau finally understood the significance of this meal.
After returning to the training ground with the Prince's group, Mirabeau was amazed to find that most of the infantry had already completed their preparations for departure. Not far away, the artillerymen were hurrying with their horses, dragging several cannons toward the assembly point.
He checked his watch—only half an hour had passed since the officers had ordered the assembly!
The word that immediately came to his mind was "elite!"
Another half-hour later, over a thousand fully armed cadets from the police academy had formed a neat column and began their march out of the training ground. Of course, this speed was achievable only because they didn't have to consider logistics—the gathering of supplies and support would take several days at least.
The large force of first-year cadets maintained a rapid marching pace and finally reached the town of Toucy by midday on the sixth day. After resting for a day, they finally met their training opponents—a third infantry regiment from the Moulins Corps, led by André, who had just arrived from Moulins.
After the two forces merged, André first met with the commander of the police cadets to discuss the upcoming training exercises, followed by a shared dinner.
Once all the official matters were settled, André eagerly headed to the police cadets' camp. Led by one of the police academy instructors, he finally met a young second lieutenant who was not yet twenty years old.
The young man and André exchanged salutes and then warmly embraced each other.
André stepped back a bit, smiling as he looked his brother up and down. "Dear Nicolas, you've finally become a real officer!"
The young man named Nicolas, full of confidence, replied, "It won't be long before I'm like you, commanding a regiment myself, my dear brother."
"Haha, that day will come. But for now, you've just graduated, so focus on gaining experience and don't think too far ahead," André said, patting his brother on the shoulder. "Actually, I believe you'll achieve even more than I will in the future. You've always been smarter than me, and now that you're serving under the Prince, you'll probably rise much faster."
The brothers hadn't seen each other in over two years, so they walked to the edge of the camp, laughing and talking.
"Wow, your uniforms are really sharp! Look at those crisp edges!" André exclaimed.
Nicolas nodded. "They say the Prince hired a famous Parisian designer to create them. Oh, you haven't seen the winter uniforms yet. Those are even more impressive—made entirely of wool. I heard each one costs 70 livres."
André glanced down at his old, worn uniform, nearly tearing up with envy before quickly changing the subject. "By the way, when did you leave? How did you arrive a day before us?"
"We left Paris last Wednesday. Brother, it was a rapid march the whole way, and I was exhausted. You know, we never did such fast marches at the academy."
André's eyes widened in shock. "Are you saying you covered the distance in just six days? That's nearly 40 leagues from Paris to Toucy!"
Forty leagues, which is about 160 kilometers, meant the cadets had marched over 26 kilometers a day—a remarkable pace in the 18th century. For comparison, the Moulins Corps had left on the same Wednesday and covered less than 30 leagues, yet they took an extra day to reach the destination.
This was the result of the rigorous physical training at the Paris Police Academy. In fact, if it weren't for the need to maintain formation, the cadets could have easily marched an additional ten or more kilometers each day.
Nicolas nodded. "The cadets here are in excellent shape. I heard they regularly do a one-league run with full packs. I tried it a few days ago and could barely keep up with the slower ones."
Although Nicolas had attended the Paris Military Academy and was quite fit himself, he wasn't used to the systematic cross-country running, so he struggled to keep pace with the police cadets.
André frowned. "If what you're saying is true, then my regiment might be in for a tough time in this exercise."
But then he smiled. "Luckily, I brought the best regiment from Moulins. Even if we can't outmarch you, we'll certainly make up for it in formation and marksmanship."
"Don't be so sure," Nicolas said with a wry smile. "Do you know how the academy practices shooting?"
"How?"
"When they used flintlock muskets, they fired ten shots every three days. After switching to percussion cap rifles, the head instructor said we needed to get used to the new guns faster, so now it's five shots every day."
"Five shots a day?!" André gasped. His regiment only fired that many rounds every two weeks.
He then noticed something else Nicolas had mentioned. "What did you say about 'percussion cap rifles'? What are those?"
Nicolas pointed to the rifle slung over a nearby cadet's shoulder. "Look, that's one. I have one too, but it's over there. It's said to be a new gun designed by the King, or some say by the Prince. You don't have to pour in priming powder when firing—just insert a copper cap. Here, let me show you…"
He pulled a percussion cap from the leather pouch on his belt and handed it to his brother. "This rifle loads about three to four seconds faster than the Charleville, and it has a slightly longer range."
André's face darkened as he started thinking about what he would say to his wife—the Duchess of Villars—if his veteran soldiers lost to cadets who had been training for less than a year.
The next morning, with the sound of cannon fire, the joint exercise between the Moulins Corps and the first-year cadets of the Paris Police Academy officially began.
According to the rules, whichever side reached the Mars Field in Paris first would "occupy" the high ground there, giving them a defensive advantage. The later-arriving side would have to launch an attack.
Just two hours into the exercise, André received a report from his scouts that the "enemy" had already begun marching.
Surprised, he grabbed his telescope and saw that the cadets were indeed marching in neat formation.
"How is that possible?" He turned to his staff officer. "Did they prepare in advance?"
The staff officer quickly raised his own telescope. "That's impossible, Colonel. I had men watching them, and there's no way… Wait, they didn't bring any supply wagons?"
"Hmm?" André observed more closely and found that his staff officer was correct.
A smile spread across his face. "These inexperienced youngsters will soon have to stop and wait for their supply convoy."
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