The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 208

Chapter 208: Pursuit of the Pirates

On the open sea, the Allied Fleet had successfully completed its risky mission to draw the pirates’ fire. To avoid unnecessary casualties, Rear Admiral Cisneros ordered the fleet to withdraw beyond the effective range of the coastal artillery.

Just as several warships adjusted their sails, an eerie silence suddenly fell over the coastal batteries.

Perplexed, Cisneros stepped onto the bow deck of the Forward and raised his telescope. Almost immediately, he spotted a blue and purple banner adorned with a fleur-de-lis fluttering above the batteries.

“How are they this fast?” he exclaimed, glancing at his adjutant. “Have they been ashore even an hour?”

The adjutant checked his pocket watch and shook his head.

“Not yet, Your Excellency. It’s only been 48 minutes.”

Cisneros’ eye twitched. Marching from the shore to that artillery battery alone would take over half an hour, even without stopping. Had Berthier simply led his men on a sprint through the pirates’ defenses? He had assumed this fledgling corps, established barely half a year ago and bolstered with police forces, would do well to capture the artillery before nightfall. Yet, before noon, the battle was already over?!

This wasn’t just any fledgling corps...

If someone had told him that the police alone had seized the battery, he might have begun questioning reality itself.

Meanwhile, within the Imperial Guard Corps, the field surgeons were directing the wounded to be carried into the medical tents. Berthier, reviewing the freshly delivered combat reports, walked towards the artillery battery atop the slope.

The casualty count: eight police cadets killed, ten wounded. Within Berthier’s corps, three killed and five wounded. These losses stemmed largely from the cadets’ overeagerness in their first battle, charging too recklessly. Otherwise, the numbers could have been even lower.

As for results: 282 pirates captured alive, approximately 90 killed. The battery of Bizerte Harbor had been secured, along with an as-yet-uncounted cache of cannons, muskets, and other supplies.

Given the harbor's strategic layout, capturing the coastal fortress had rendered the subsequent docks and town virtually defenseless.

In effect, the Barbary pirates’ key base at Bizerte Harbor—one of their two strongholds in Tunisia—was now firmly in their hands.

Berthier instructed his adjutant to prioritize treating the wounded, while the troops who had led the assault rested on the spot. Meanwhile, two newly landed battalions were ordered to sweep the town for pirates.

By nightfall, the Imperial Guard Corps had secured total control over Bizerte Harbor, capturing over 40 pirates named on their wanted list. However, many more had fled the port.

Looking at the faintly glowing twilight, the adjutant approached Berthier and asked:
“Commander, should we send the cavalry to pursue those fleeing pirates? They can’t have gone far.”

Berthier shook his head. “Relay this order: the entire corps will rest in Bizerte for a day and a half, replenishing supplies of food and wine.”

“A whole day and a half of rest?” The adjutant was puzzled. “Sir, that would give the pirates time to escape further.”

“That’s fine. We’ll let them run,” Berthier replied, recalling Joseph’s plan. A smile played on his lips. “We’ll resume our advance southward at noon the day after tomorrow.”

To the north of Bizerte lay the sea; to the south, only Kairouan and Tunis were viable refuges. With the Kairouan fortress embroiled in battle between two armies, the pirates’ only real option was to flee to Tunis. And that was precisely Joseph’s true objective.

...

Two days later.

In Tunis, at the Qasr al-Kashir Palace, dozens of disheveled naval officers groveled on the marble floor, pleading desperately:

“Oh, Great Bey, those Europeans suddenly attacked the harbor—we cannot let this go unpunished!”

“They even brazenly sought to kill us! This is an insult to Your Excellency!”

“Great Bey, you must protect us! Over the years, the navy has contributed vast sums in taxes for Your Excellency...”

“Please mobilize the army and cut off the heads of those infidels!”

Hammoud Ali furrowed his brow in exasperation. Trouble had been unending lately.

Had Younes not launched his unexpected rebellion, forcing him to dispatch the Guard from across Tunisia to quell the insurrection, the port would have had more than 500 soldiers stationed, and the Europeans could never have taken Bizerte so easily.

He gestured for the naval officers, who had fled from Bizerte, to silence themselves, then turned to a middle-aged official at his side.

“Sinaneddin, the Europeans’ forces are advancing toward us. What do you think we should do?”

The middle-aged official, serving as Tunisia’s Qadi—a position akin to vizier—paused in thought before bowing. “Great Bey, the Europeans are here to eliminate the pirates. After all, the navy raided their merchant ships and extorted exorbitant ransoms.”

“So, what are you saying?”

In a low voice, Sinaneddin replied, “Great Bey, the navy is not strictly under your command. If sacrificing them can avert the Europeans’ wrath, it is worth considering.”

Hammoud Ali nodded thoughtfully.

“You make a fair point. Have the Guard detain those men outside. Inform the Europeans that they may take them...”

Before he could finish, Hafsa, who had been quietly tuning her lute nearby, suddenly rose and approached swiftly. After offering a formal salute, she spoke urgently:

“Great Bey, Your Excellency Qadi, you must not hand over the navy!”

“Oh? Explain your reasoning,” Ali asked, turning to her.

“You are the protector of all Tunisia. If you fail to shield the navy now, the entire nation will doubt your authority.”

Sinaneddin interjected, “But the Europeans—”

“You needn’t worry,” Hafsa said with disdain. “I’ve heard they number only two or three thousand. With our Guard and naval forces, we have no reason to fear them!”

Before Sinaneddin could argue, she continued, “Moreover, with Your Excellency’s army engaged in quelling the rebellion, showing any sign of weakness will drive the undecided factions into Younes’ camp!”

Hammoud Ali hesitated, her argument striking a chord.

Since Younes’ rebellion began, Hafsa’s insights into the political landscape had proven remarkably accurate.

And as she noted, projecting strength was essential to maintaining the loyalty of Tunisia’s various factions.

As for the Europeans—if enough gold could mollify their anger, why not?

“Take three million riyals and negotiate with the Europeans,” he ordered Sinaneddin. “Ensure the navy’s safety.

“Also, summon the Guard to bolster the city’s defenses.”

Sinaneddin began to protest but, seeing the Bey’s resolute expression, relented with a bow and left.

Hafsa’s eyes glimmered faintly with triumph. Though she didn’t fully understand why Haji had instructed her to ensure the navy’s protection, she had succeeded.

...

Seventy kilometers separated Bizerte Harbor from Tunis. After three days of marching, the Imperial Guard Corps arrived outside the city.

The Allied Fleet coordinated their advance by sailing south toward the Port of Tunis, leaving behind only a frigate and a few small ships to blockade Bizerte Harbor. With the coastal battery under their control, even a small naval presence was sufficient to maintain the blockade.

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