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Ottoman Empire.
Constantinople.
Said walked past the guards who were bowing their heads in salute on both sides with a gloomy expression, then turned to glance back at the Topkapi Palace, feeling increasingly desolate.
Just now, the Sultan had appointed him as a special envoy to “inspect” Tunisia.
A few years ago, this would have been a coveted position that many envied—typically, fringe provinces like Tunisia would treat the Sultan’s envoy well and give him a substantial amount of “travel expenses” upon departure.
However, this mission was doomed to be devoid of such benefits.
The empire was facing a critical situation in Ochakov. That Potemkin from Russia had a large army pressing hard, and the important fortress on the northern shore of the Black Sea could fall at any time.
Moreover, with the previous crushing defeat at the Battle of Fidonisi Island, the empire was now facing an extremely grim situation, with its finances, military, and other aspects stretched to the breaking point.
And at such a crucial time, a coup had erupted in Tunisia.
The Pasha appointed by the empire, Hamoud Ali, was killed, and his nephew Haji declared himself the successor, yet he had not followed the usual protocol of seeking investiture from the empire to be Pasha, which had undermined the empire’s dignity.
It was against this backdrop that the Sultan had chosen him to go to Tunisia.
Said sighed; there wasn’t even a budget for this mission, and he had to dig into his own pockets.
Moreover, according to the empire’s usual practice, if he couldn’t get Haji to apologize to the Sultan and request to be recognized as Pasha, he would most likely be executed for “incompetence and insulting the imperial dignity”…
He got into his palanquin with the assistance of his servant, mentally calculating his family fortune. He could probably take out 30,000 sultanis, wondering if this small favor would be enough to “persuade” Haji.
Ha! What an irony, the Sultan’s envoy now had to bribe a Pasha of a border province…
United States.
Philadelphia.
Outside Independence Hall, about two or three thousand citizens were excitedly shouting slogans and waving vigorously towards Congress Hall.
Hamilton stood in front of the second-floor window, watching the scene outside with satisfaction, feeling that the more than 200,000 US dollars spent before were well worth it.
The news from the Mediterranean yesterday was that, with the help of France and the Netherlands, the US fleet had eradicated the Barbary pirates of Tunisia, significantly improving the safety of the Mediterranean sea lanes in the future.
And he, as the congressman who had strongly advocated for the special funding to fight the pirates, had gained a wealth of political prestige.
Madison, also a member of the “Federalist Party,” approached and, gesturing towards the window, laughed:
“Mr. Hamilton, you are now a legendary hero in Philadelphia! Ah, ‘Pirate Judge,’ just listen to the nickname everyone is giving you.”
He lowered his voice a little, “Looking at this momentum, you might even have a shot at the presidential seat.”
“Ha, you jest. My reputation is still far from enough,” Hamilton said with a laugh, waving his hand. Yet the title of “Pirate Judge” did stir something within him.
The navy had reported that the French had captured thousands of pirates and offered to sell them to the US at a price of 2000 US dollars each.
That money could buy five sturdy male slaves. But the fleet commander at that time thought it was too expensive and didn’t buy any.
Hamilton shook his head privately; that fool definitely should have bought a hundred or so pirates, conduct a public trial, and then hang them in front of everyone. That way, his title of “Pirate Judge” would indeed suit him!
Those fervent and proud citizens outside, perhaps, could give him a pleasant surprise in next year’s presidential elections…
With this thought, he turned to Madison:
“I will submit an appropriation request to purchase the Barbary pirates in Congress, please support me.”
Netherlands, Amsterdam.
Sir Joseph York, the British ambassador to the Netherlands, walked out of the Congress building with a stern face.
At the recently concluded provincial union Congress, the Dutch did not condemn France’s actions in North Africa as Britain had hoped.
Instead, they issued a statement saying that free trade in the Mediterranean had been better protected recently, which included Dutch contributions.
York cursed under his breath; everyone knew that the Dutch ship was just assisting the French, which was clearly a form of support for France!
Although the Dutch were intimidated by Britain, they were deeply resentful of British high-handedness. Therefore, they were very willing to seize such minor incidents to annoy Britain.
Then York suddenly remembered a rumor he had heard a couple of days before—the Dutch East and West India Companies were going to merge and accept French investment to establish the “United East India Company.”
This matter had to be ascertained as soon as possible, and if true, it must be thwarted at all costs to prevent the Netherlands from continuing to lean toward France.
The Low Countries were a strategic “bridgehead” for the British Empire, absolutely not to be lost!
…
On board the “Avant-garde,” Joseph read through the “Origin Analysis of Tunisia” with a smile on his face.
Mr. Saint Pierre’s writing was undoubtedly excellent; he interwove history, various legends, and even myths skillfully into one narrative, making the story very vivid…
No, it was a record of Tunisia’s colorful history.
He handed the manuscript to Isaac, the “North Africa expert,” asking him to review it and, if there were no issues, to translate it into Arabic and Berber as soon as possible, and then print it in large quantities.
To increase efficiency, he even brought a printing press and craftsmen on board.
Another day passed, and the fleet arrived at the Port of Tunis.
Bertier and a group of officers had already arrived at the dock to welcome them. However, as Joseph had requested that his identity not be disclosed, there were almost no soldiers there.
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