The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 209

Chapter 209: Bestowed the Title of “Savior of Suffering”

Berthier completely ignored Sinedine, who had come as an envoy, and instead sent someone to the Cahill Palace to submit a list of pirates, demanding that Hamid Ali hand them over immediately.

On Hafsa's advice, Ali decided to adopt a strong stance. Without compromise, he promptly expelled the French envoys from Tunis.

Meanwhile, large-scale mobilization began within the city of Tunis.

Due to the deployment of significant forces to Kairouan to confront Younes, fewer than a thousand Janissaries remained in Tunis. However, Sinedine demonstrated remarkable personal capabilities, mobilizing over 7,000 Janissary nobles in just two days.

For those unfamiliar with the situation in Tunis, this might sound unusual. That’s because the term "Janissary" in Tunis does not refer to a specific military unit but rather an entire class.

Over a century ago, during the Ottoman Empire’s zenith, its elite Janissaries invaded North Africa, including Tunis, Algiers, and Tripoli, easily defeating the local forces and turning these regions into Ottoman provinces.

As the Ottoman Empire declined, the Janissaries stationed in North Africa began to seize control of these regions, gradually breaking away from Ottoman rule and becoming autonomous regimes.

The Ottoman Sultan, unable to reclaim control, chose to grant them the title of “Pasha,” akin to governors, officially recognizing their rule over various parts of North Africa.

To prevent assimilation with the local population, these Ottoman Janissaries enforced strict internal marriage policies and retained Ottoman attire and customs, forming a distinct social class.

Over time, the Janissaries in Tunis became immensely wealthy through the exploitation of the local North African population. The new generation of Janissaries, raised in luxury, had long lost the valor of their predecessors.

Meanwhile, divisions emerged within the Janissary class. The lower ranks continued to fulfill military duties, while those in power and wealth hired substitutes to serve in their stead, eventually creating a system where payment exempted one from military service.

Thus, the Janissaries of Tunis ceased to be a military force and became synonymous with nobility.

Currently, there are nearly 90,000 members of the Janissary class in Tunis, but actual combat troops number fewer than 20,000.

However, nominally, all Janissaries are still considered soldiers. Therefore, when the Bey of Tunis issued a mobilization order, a large number of Janissary nobles were assembled and formed into units.

Most of these individuals had rarely, if ever, handled firearms, and their military training was virtually nonexistent. Their combat effectiveness could easily be imagined.

...

The following afternoon, envoys from the Imperial Guard Corps arrived outside Tunis. They enumerated the crimes of the pirates and harshly accused Hamid Ali of collusion and harboring the criminals.

Berthier then ordered an assault.

The city of Tunis, situated beside the port, had been designed primarily to defend against threats from the sea. Its walls enclosed three sides, leaving the inland side almost unprotected.

The Imperial Guard Corps launched their attack from the landward side.

Unlike their previous operation in Bizerte, which required amphibious landings, the entire corps could deploy fully. Artillery, cavalry, and all other equipment were in position. This was a battle designed to showcase the full strength of the Imperial Guard Corps!

Berthier’s talent for troop deployment, which had earned him his position as Napoleon’s Chief of Staff, was evident.

The night before, he had already mapped the surrounding terrain and developed a detailed battle plan.

Now, standing on a hill opposite Tunis, Berthier observed the dense mass of Tunisian forces through his telescope. Though somewhat anxious, he adhered strictly to the scheduled timeline, ordering the artillery to begin bombardment.

The rumble of cannon fire echoed through the city of Tunis. Coupled with the previous day’s news of the port being blockaded by European fleets, chaos erupted throughout the city.

At the side gate of Cahill Palace, a guard was startled to see the Bey’s nephew, Hajji, approaching with more than ten attendants.

The lead guard hurried forward to salute and asked, “Pasha, is there something urgent?”

“I have urgent matters to discuss with the Bey,” Hajji replied, gesturing to a man dressed as a tailor behind him. “Also, I brought someone to make him a new robe.”

“A new robe? Now?” The guard’s confusion deepened as the sound of cannon fire echoed in the distance.

At that moment, the “tailors” suddenly charged into the palace gate, subduing the guards with pistols. Near the palace’s statues, forty to fifty men armed with muskets and scimitars emerged, rallying around Hajji as they headed toward the inner chambers.

Many guards of the Cahill Palace had been deployed to confront the Europeans, leaving only a few dozen patrolling the premises.

Prosper personally led a team of over ten Intelligence Bureau operatives in the vanguard. Any guards who approached were met with a volley of musket fire, followed by reloading and a steady advance.

In this methodical manner, they escorted Hajji to the rear chambers of the Cahill Palace in just over ten minutes.

There, on the second floor of a bedroom, Hajji found Hamid Ali dressed in plain clothes, standing beside Hafsa.

The coldness in Hajji’s eyes was palpable.

Prosper directed his men to thoroughly search the room, ensuring no guards were present, before retreating with the operatives. Only Hajji’s entourage remained.

Hajji’s bodyguards quickly surrounded Ali, who barked in a tone of false bravado, “Hajji, what are you doing?!”

Hajji drew a scimitar from one of his bodyguards and strode toward Ali without a word.

Ali, panicking, stumbled backward, his voice trembling. “Why… why are you doing this?”

“Seventeen years ago, you forged my father’s will while I was just a child and stole the position of Bey from me. I endured it!” Hajji said, his gaze shifting to Hafsa. His voice rose with emotion. “Three years ago, you even took Hafsa from me! I begged on my knees, but you had me thrown out.”

Hajji stepped closer, grabbing Hafsa with one hand and raising the scimitar with the other. “Do you understand? Without her, my life was meaningless!”

“Ah! You can take her! I… I…”

Ali’s plea was silenced by a flash of steel as the scimitar plunged into his left side. The blade pierced through his back.

Hajji gritted his teeth and spat out, “I don’t need your permission! Three years ago, I swore I would take her back with my own hands!”

He wrenched the blade free, spraying blood across himself and Hafsa.

“I did it! See? I really did it!” Hajji threw the scimitar aside and embraced Hafsa tightly, burying his face in her neck. “We can finally be together!”

“Yes!” Hafsa nodded fiercely, tears streaming down her face. “From now on, nothing will ever separate us again!”

The two clung to each other, their eyes brimming with tears of joy.

After a long while, a voice came from outside the room. It was Isaac: “Hajji Pasha, though I should not disturb you, time is of the essence. Are you ready?”

Hajji quickly wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and replied in a loud voice, “Yes, Mr. Isaac, you may enter.”

Hafsa then stepped forward and announced to the palace guards that Hamid Ali had just been assassinated by a naval traitor. Before his death, he had left a will naming his nephew, Hajji, as his successor to the position of Bey.

...

Outside Tunis, a battalion of infantry from the Imperial Guard Corps’ left wing had breached the Janissary defenses, triggering the collapse of Tunisian forces.

In truth, after enduring more than ten rounds of bombardment by the Guard’s artillery, the Tunisian Janissaries were already in disarray. By this point, their only two cannons had yet to reach the battlefield.

The Imperial Guard then executed a feint on the right wing, drawing attention and allowing the left wing to achieve a straightforward breakthrough.

Outnumbered two to one, the Tunisian forces were utterly unable to resist, reduced to scattered flight and being pursued.

Just as Berthier was about to order the left wing to pivot and encircle the fleeing forces, the palace steward from Cahill Palace hurried out of Tunis. He conveyed a new command from the newly appointed Bey of Tunis to the Janissary forces: “Cease resistance immediately and allow the French forces to enter the city.”

The Tunisian officers, upon receiving the order, collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The French forces were simply too formidable—disciplined, heavily armed, and tactically coordinated. The Tunisian soldiers had been anxiously awaiting their own demise, but now they could at least save their lives.

Berthier left a contingent to guard the prisoners and swiftly led three battalions toward Cahill Palace to provide support for Hajji.

Despite Hamid Ali’s death, many high-ranking Tunisian officials remained loyal to him. Years of deliberate suppression had left Hajji with almost no political influence, making it difficult for him to secure control over these officials.

The Intelligence Bureau’s handful of agents would hardly suffice to guarantee Hajji’s safety.

As the Imperial Guard Corps quickly seized control of key routes in Tunis, officials in the city began flocking, willingly or not, to Cahill Palace to pay homage to the new Bey—Hajji.

As for Hamid Ali’s death, no one showed much concern. The officials knew that Hamid had risen to power through his own schemes, and whether he was truly killed by a naval traitor mattered little—Hajji’s word would suffice.

The first decree issued by Hajji after assuming the position of Bey was to dissolve the Tunisian navy involved in the assassination of the former Bey and to hand over the naval officers who had engaged in piracy to the French for prosecution.

He then ordered the Janissaries stationed in Kairouan to continue suppressing Younes’ rebellion without leaving their stronghold.

Berthier, on his end, immediately began organizing a police force for Tunis, composed entirely of native Berbers. Among the Imperial Guard were numerous instructors from the Paris Police Academy, who took charge of training the new recruits and “temporarily” assumed all mid-to-high-level positions in the Tunisian police force.

The disarmed Janissaries of Tunis were now under strict control, and for the time being, the city’s security was managed by the Imperial Guard alongside the newly formed Berber police.

Meanwhile, Tunisian officials received orders to conduct a nationwide census of enslaved Europeans and the number of European residents living in Tunis.

...

Paris, France

For the past two days, nearly every newspaper in Paris had devoted its front page to the news from North Africa.

His Majesty’s expeditionary force, in coordination with the navy, had wiped out the Barbary pirates entrenched in Tunis in just a few months. The expedition had rescued more than 33,000 European citizens kidnapped by pirates and safeguarded over 100,000 Christians in Tunis from pirate threats.

In the streets of Paris, people were abuzz with excitement about Tunis:

“My distant cousin disappeared five years ago. It wasn’t until recently, when the expeditionary force rescued him, that we learned he had been taken by pirates!”

“Those damned pirates! Thank goodness His Majesty’s army wiped them out!”

“I heard they captured nearly a thousand pirates and seized a great number of pirate ships. That’s incredible!”

“Long live His Majesty the King! He truly is the greatest king!”

“Have you read the papers? The Pope has declared His Majesty the ‘Savior of Suffering,’ praising him for bringing salvation to countless Catholics!”

This title, of course, had been secured by Joseph, who had coordinated with Pope Pius VI to ensure it. The Pope saw the declaration as an opportunity to bolster the Church’s prestige while currying favor with France—a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Among the wealthy aristocrats and industrialists, the focus was on reports that “a series of agreements had been signed between His Majesty’s diplomats and the newly appointed Bey of Tunis.”

At a salon in the Louvre District, a group of nobles were in lively discussion:

“I hear we can now purchase land in Tunis?”

“Yes, I saw it too. The Paris Gazette mentioned it, and the land prices are very cheap.”

“I have a relative in the North African trade. He says the land in Tunis is incredibly fertile—capable of yielding three wheat harvests a year!”

“With France suffering from droughts and hailstorms recently, buying land in Tunis might be a wise choice.”

“Farming? You’re missing the bigger picture! Tunisian tariffs on French goods have been slashed to nearly zero. Exporting wine or textiles there would yield huge profits!”

“Exactly! Viscount Hoyenne is pooling funds to purchase two ships for North African trade. Who’s interested in joining?”

...

At Versailles, Mirabeau and several industrial officials emerged from their office, looking exhausted. They had just finished discussions on how to leverage the agreements with Tunis, which allowed French factories to be built there, to expand industrial operations. Now, they were heading to a ball hosted by Queen Marie to celebrate the successful eradication of the pirates.

The Hall of Mirrors resounded with lively music, already crowded with nobles attending the ball. Celebratory occasions like this were always popular, as the King and Queen were in high spirits and often bestowed generous rewards.

Queen Marie, sporting an extravagant hairstyle, walked arm-in-arm with Louis XVI to the wooden steps at the front of the hall.

The noblewomen whispered about the Queen’s avant-garde hairstyle—a massive sailing ship perched atop her head, nearly as tall as her face.

“Oh, Her Majesty is always ahead of the trends! This hairstyle is simply magnificent!”

“Dear God, it’s a warship!”

“Madame Cisneros, can you identify the ship?”

As the wife of a naval officer, Madame Cisneros was somewhat knowledgeable. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s the flagship of the allied fleet from this campaign—the Forward.”

“They say the hairpiece was crafted by His Majesty himself.”

“How romantic! If any man made such a ship for me, I’d marry him immediately!”

The Queen’s attendant clapped her hands, signaling for silence, then bowed and stepped aside.

Queen Marie raised her hands with a smile and gazed adoringly at her husband. In a loud voice, she proclaimed, “Let us offer our highest reverence to the great ‘Savior of Suffering!’”

The nobles erupted into cheers.

“Long live the Savior of Suffering!”

“Long live His Majesty the King!”

Louis XVI, flustered by the attention, rubbed his forehead. He thought to himself, I haven’t done much at all. Why is the Pope being so gracious?

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