“The glorious province of Tunis…”
“To become a province of France…”
“To return to the embrace of our Roman kin…”
“We want to be with our kin…”
Xilada saw Bey appear and hurriedly gestured for the petitioning crowd to quiet down, then respectfully approached Haji, saluted, and presented him with a large piece of sheepskin paper.
“What, what is this?” Haji dared not reach out— the scene from last time when the Rebel Army stormed into the Ksar Hellal Palace and nearly captured him had left a huge psychological shadow over him.
“It is a petition, Your Excellency Bey.”
Xilada helped him unfold the sheepskin paper, and at the top, written in Arabic, was “Tunis Petition to Join the Kingdom of France.”
Below were densely packed handprints of the petitioners, seemingly numbering in the thousands.
“Join France?” Haji asked, trembling, “How to join?”
An official next to Xilada, who was also a scholar and had previously discussed “origin analysis” with him, stepped forward and said loudly:
“Tunis used to be a province of the Ottoman Empire, and now that we have separated from the Ottomans, we can become a great province of France!”
Another person chimed in: “Yes! To be forever together with our Roman brothers!”
“Powerful France is the only one that can bring prosperity and strength to Tunis!”
The petitioning crowd immediately started chanting:
“Province of Tunis!”
“Join France!”
Haji stepped back in fright, and Hafsa behind him shouted:
“If Tunis becomes a province, what will happen to the Bey?”
Xilada immediately said, “Regarding this matter, I’ve already had Joan, the consul, inquire with the French Crown Prince.
“His Royal Highness has expressed that he will petition for you to be granted the title of ‘Duke of Tunis,’ retain the Ksar Hellal Palace, and receive a substantial annual pension. Just like those noble dukes of France.”
The excited scholar next to him added, “Compared to the declining position of a Pasha in the Ottoman Empire, becoming a Duke in the great France will be more glorious for you!”
These Tunisian literati had always been the most proficient in French matters, and they acquired a large number of positions during the recent “public civil service exam” with their cultural knowledge.
Therefore, whether due to their proficiency in French matters or for the stability of their positions, they were all extremely eager for Tunis to become a province of France.
After the Tunisian Rebel Forces entered Tunis City, Joan merely gave Xilada a slight hint, and the latter immediately led the literati class to fully promote the opinion of “becoming a French province.”
And the lower classes of Tunis were also very pleased with this development.
During the overthrow of the Imperial Guard’s rule, they looted a great amount of wealth from the Imperial Guard’s homes. And now with Algiers sending twenty thousand troops to Tunis to “quell the rebellion” and restore the Imperial Guard’s rule, this was something they could not accept—how could they spit out the meat that was already in their mouths?
Therefore, they urgently needed powerful France to protect the wealth they had obtained. Whether they became a province of whom made no difference to them. Their dear “Roman brothers” seemed much more amiable than the Ottoman Empire.
As for the Tunisian military, they needed someone to endorse their previous actions of exterminating the Imperial Guard. Moreover, the highest leader of the Rebel Army was Isaac from the Police Affairs Department, who naturally supported joining France with all his might.
Regarding the religious aspect, since the Ottoman Empire had always practiced a policy of religious coexistence, Christianity and Islam had always coexisted peacefully within its realms. Even Haji’s grandfather, Hussein, before becoming Bey, had been a Catholic.
Tunisians, influenced by this concept for over a century, naturally had no objections to joining a Catholic country.
Haji carefully took the petition, turning to look back at Hafsa.
She glanced at the vast crowd of petitioners and whispered:
“If you stand to gain nothing but benefits from the conditions offered by the French Crown Prince, and with the title of Duke of France, you will no longer need to fear the mob daring to harm you.”
Haji nodded and turned to Xilada, saying:
“Please draft a request on my behalf, asking His Majesty the Great King of France to accept Tunisia becoming a province of France.”
…
While the throngs of petitioners surrounded Ksar Hellal Palace, thousands of soldiers from the Guard Corps were standing in formation at the garrison in Bizerte, participating in the award ceremony for the heroes who had distinguished themselves in the battle of Annaba.
Amid the solemn and inspiring strains of “Glory and Victory,” dressed in his white military uniform and with a sword at his side, Joseph strode onto the wooden platform at the head of the column. He scanned the neatly arranged several dozen squares of troops before him and said loudly,
“Today, we witness those who have, with supreme courage, wisdom and belief, written a legend worthy of respect and obtained the highest glory! They will receive medals commensurate with their honor! Let us salute them!”
With a “whoosh,” the soldiers raised their rifles in a tidy salute to the dozen or so people on the stage waiting to be decorated.
Afterward, Joseph took the medals from the staff officer and first conferred them on soldiers who had fallen in battle, represented by others.
Then he came to Lefevre, who had been awarded the Silver Iris Medal, and pinned the finely crafted Silver Iris to his chest, then solemnly saluted him with his hat.
At this, a wave-like cheer burst forth from the soldiers present.
You have to understand that Lefevre was of common birth. In other regiments of France, someone like him could at most become a second lieutenant, and even that would require a considerable sum of money for influence.
But now, he had not only received the Silver Iris Medal but had also swiftly risen to the rank of Major, able to command a battalion of soldiers.
This was all earned by his valor in battle.
Origin mattered no more!
Almost every soldier’s heart was filled with hope because they knew that if they fought bravely on the battlefield, they could earn the same distinction and perhaps even become a General one day!
And this hope alone was enough to crush the morale of all the armies in Europe at that time.
Joseph then approached Dawu and pinned the Bronze Iris to his chest, saluting him with his hat as well.
He looked at Marshal Dawu, standing at attention in response to him, and glanced at Bertier and Lefevre beside him, thinking to himself with a silent sigh: Napoleon, I’ve found three of your marshals, but where on earth have you gone?
In fact, a few months ago Joseph had started asking the Minister of War to look for a soldier named Napoleon Bonaparte for him.
According to his memory, Napoleon should have already graduated from the Artillery School and been serving in a regiment by now.
However, the Marquis de Saint Priest told him there was no active soldier by that name.
Initially, Joseph wasn’t surprised, since in that era information was extremely limited and armies were the private property of nobles–it was like trying to inspect someone else’s bank statement–secrecy was to be expected.
Therefore, he asked Fouche to take charge of the matter, but to this day, Napoleon’s whereabouts remained elusive.
He shook his head slightly, telling himself not to rush, for Napoleon was still only a 19-year-old young man, and as long as they kept searching, they were sure to find him sooner or later!
…
The Palace of Versailles.
Queen Mary, having skimmed the report on the situation in Tunisia, was overwhelmed with joy, giving the head of the royal household who delivered the news an embrace: “That’s wonderful, Joseph is safe and sound!”
She stepped back and made the sign of the cross in front of her chest: “Thank you, Almighty God, for your protection over Joseph!”
She read the report carefully again, excitedly pacing back and forth in the room, and finally stopped in front of her lady-in-waiting, saying, “Please help me arrange a welcoming ceremony, my Joseph will be back soon!
“By the way, does His Majesty the King know this wonderful news?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, a copy of the same document has also been sent to the King,” replied the attendant.
“Good, good! Then, go get two strawberry cakes, covered with cocoa sauce. I want to celebrate properly!”
At the same time, the Marquis de Saint-Veran, who had just led his troops to the Port of Toulon, received the news from Tunisia but seemed somewhat deflated.
He had not expected the 6,000 troops to solve the problem of the Algiers army. Now that the Crown Prince was safe, there was no longer an opportunity for him to secure additional funds.
He suddenly regretted his recent hesitation; had he known this outcome, he would not have dallied over the funding. Perhaps the credit for defeating the Algerians and protecting the Crown Prince could have been his.