Chapter 226: Joy and Sorrow for Some
December 10, 1788
The entirety of Paris trembled under the harsh, dry winds of winter. News of grain shortages from other provinces only added to the chill of this unforgiving season.
The sole relief came from reports of victories in North Africa, which lifted spirits during these difficult days.
The French people, now on the verge of national awakening, shared a deep sense of pride in their nation's achievements. Conversations about the triumphs echoed through the streets and alleys of the city.
When the French Guards returned to their barracks in Paris, they were greeted by throngs of people who surrounded the encampment, cheering and smiling warmly in welcome.
At the same time, a grand celebration was underway in Versailles Palace.
Joseph disembarked wearily from the rail carriage, immediately greeted by a thunderous wave of applause. Looking up, he saw thousands of nobles lining both sides of the road leading to the palace gates, their numbers extending far across the Versailles courtyard.
Summoning his strength, Joseph waved to the crowd, which drew even louder cheers in response.
To be honest, the half-month journey from Tunis to Paris had left him utterly exhausted, and all he wanted was to collapse into the soft embrace of a bed for an entire day.
But Joseph understood that certain obligations must be met, no matter how weary one feels.
He glanced back at the carriage, watching as Berthier, Consul Joan, a few agents from the Intelligence Bureau, and Hilada Celebi, representing Tunis, stepped down one after another.
The group, clearly unused to such a grand spectacle, froze in place for several seconds before the discreet urgings of the court attendants roused them. They quickly hurried to Joseph’s side.
As the group walked through the dense throng, the music of the royal court orchestra filled the air, soon accompanied by the boom of ceremonial cannon fire.
The noblewomen of Versailles seemed more enamored with the Crown Prince than ever before. His time in distant North Africa had darkened his complexion slightly, giving him a rugged, masculine appeal and an air of mystery that left young ladies utterly captivated.
Even the high-ranking nobles’ gazes toward Joseph were noticeably different.
Before Joseph's journey to Tunis, the region had been in complete disarray, with attacks on the French occurring everywhere. The situation had been so dire that the Cabinet had even contemplated abandoning the territory. Yet, Joseph’s arrival had quickly stabilized the region, and by the time he returned to Paris, he had brought back not only order but also a new province for France.
No one could believe this was mere coincidence.
It was clear that the young Crown Prince possessed abilities and resourcefulness far beyond his years.
Admittedly, some speculated that Queen Marie Antoinette had been the guiding force behind these accomplishments. However, Joseph's precise execution of her plans demonstrated his own formidable capabilities.
The successes in Tunis, whether attributed to the Queen or the Crown Prince, had significantly bolstered the monarchy's prestige. No longer did people regard the royal family with mocking indifference; instead, admiration and respect for the monarchy were on the rise.
Meanwhile, the nobles who frequented the Palais-Royal found themselves deeply conflicted.
They had witnessed the Duke of Orléans suffer one setback after another, losing control of the high courts, public opinion, and even banking institutions.
Now, they faced a difficult choice: Should they continue to align with the Duke of Orléans, or was it time to reconcile with the royal family and secure a safer path for their future?
On the steps of Versailles Palace, Queen Marie Antoinette anxiously awaited her son’s approach. However, the presence of the Tunisian delegation prevented her from rushing forward to embrace him. Instead, she adhered to protocol, exchanging a formal greeting with Joseph.
Hilada Celebi stepped forward and respectfully presented King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette with the signed treaty from Hajji Bey, formalizing Tunis’s integration into France.
The decision to make Tunis a French province had been finalized ten days earlier, and today’s ceremony was merely a formality.
King Louis XVI took a deep breath, summoning his strength, before proclaiming loudly:
“I accept Tunis’s loyalty and, as King of France, pledge to protect Tunis forever. May you know peace and prosperity under my rule.”
The cheers that erupted across the Versailles courtyard were deafening:
“Long live His Majesty the King!”
“May the King’s glory forever shine upon Tunis!”
“Praise be to God! Praise be to our King!”
The overwhelming enthusiasm left the socially awkward Louis XVI visibly tense, but a gentle reminder from the court attendant prompted him to raise his hand, signaling the crowd to quiet down. He then invited the Tunisian delegation to proceed into the palace.
...
In the Hall of Mirrors, Queen Marie Antoinette presided over the ceremony formalizing France's annexation of the North African provinces.
It was Joseph who had suggested dividing Tunis into four provinces—Bizerte, Susa, Kairouan, and Sfax—during his journey back to Paris.
Tunis itself would be incorporated into the province of Susa, while the poorer southern regions would form the province of Sfax. Moving forward, "Tunis" would exist only as a geographical term.
Joseph's intentions were clear: He sought to ensure the long-term stability of the region.
By splitting Tunis into four provinces, he aimed to dilute the identity of Tunis as a unified entity, thereby preventing future separatist movements.
Additionally, the presence of four governors would create a system of checks and balances, reducing the risk of overseas governors amassing excessive power. After all, the Ottoman Empire’s troubles with Tunis served as a stark warning; as soon as imperial authority weakened, the Janissaries turned the region into their personal stronghold.
Finally, given the era’s limitations in communication and administration, a single governor would struggle to effectively manage an area as vast as Tunis, which spanned over 160,000 square kilometers—more than a quarter of France’s total area. Though large in size, the population of Tunis was relatively sparse, making it feasible for four governors to manage.
After the annexation ceremony concluded, the King and Queen presided over an awards ceremony honoring those who had contributed to the North African campaign.
Joseph stood at the forefront, slightly embarrassed. To his right were Berthier, Consul Joan, and Isaac.
Queen Marie Antoinette placed a laurel wreath on her son’s head, her gaze sweeping over him with a mix of pride and tenderness. Unable to contain herself, she pulled him into a tight embrace and whispered:
“My dear, I’m so proud of you! Tell me, are you hurt? Have you been ill? Did you manage to eat well in Africa?”
Joseph patted his mother’s back reassuringly, nodding as he spoke:
“Don’t worry, Mother. I’m perfectly fine. I’m a grown man now, and I’ll often have to travel the world. There’s no need to always fret over me.”
Marie Antoinette’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, though a smile graced her lips:
“Yes, yes... My Joseph will soar like an eagle, spreading his wings across the vast skies. And I will always be here, waiting for you to return home.”
Louis XVI leaned in and added softly, “Yes, me too.”
A discreet cough from the court attendant reminded the Queen of the schedule. Reluctantly, she released her son and turned to Berthier, taking a wreath from the attendant and approaching him.
“Your outstanding performance in North Africa has amazed everyone. Please accept our highest respect, Colonel.”
Joseph whispered with a smile, “Mother, it should be Brigadier General now.”
The Queen nodded.
“Indeed, I’ve heard of the battle. Your contributions warrant a promotion to Brigadier General.”
Joseph's face lit up with a faint smile. According to protocol, Berthier should have been promoted to Colonel this time, but an exceptional promotion to Brigadier General was not out of the question. Taking advantage of the Queen's good mood to finalize his rank would greatly benefit the future development of the French Guards Corps.
After all, a Brigadier General could command an entire regional garrison, making it much easier to expand the Guards' numbers or recruit officers in the future.
Once Queen Marie Antoinette had placed the final laurel wreath and delivered a brief speech, it was time for lunch. Without waiting for discussion, she took Joseph’s arm and led him toward the dining hall. Along the way, she continued to pepper him with questions about his health and comfort, leaving Clementine, who was eager to hear her cousin recount stories of the North African campaign, furiously frustrated as she tried unsuccessfully to interject.
The palace chefs had prepared a North African-inspired tagine as the first course of the luncheon. They had debated at length whether the dish should be considered a soup or an entrée, ultimately deciding it was the latter due to its relatively sparse broth.
Joseph, having eaten tagine countless times during his stay in Tunis, was very familiar with the dish.
Served in a clay pot, the dish was slow-cooked with an array of spices and sauces, containing beef, fish, tomatoes, and a medley of vegetables. It bore a resemblance to the Eastern dish maocai and was quite flavorful.
When the French chefs' rendition of tagine arrived, a servant carefully lifted the conical lid of the pot, releasing a wave of rich, aromatic steam.
Joseph used his fork to pick up a piece of fish, placing it into his mouth. The moment he bit into it, the sauce's rich flavor enveloped the tender fish, with a subtle sweetness from the seafood that followed. After a few quick chews, he swallowed it with ease.
It was far superior to the tagine made by the Tunisians.
French chefs had truly earned their reputation.
A sudden thought struck Joseph: perhaps this dish could be promoted in France as a way to foster acceptance of Tunisian culture.
However, as he glanced around, he noticed that no one else had touched the dish. Instead, everyone was staring expectantly at the tagine.
Was it not to the French palate?
As Joseph puzzled over this, he noticed the court attendant whispering something to Queen Marie Antoinette. She awkwardly picked up her fork and tentatively reached into the pot.
The nobles, taking their cue from the Queen, began to eat as well.
Joseph sighed inwardly, realizing that he had overlooked an important detail: in Versailles, dining was governed by strict etiquette. The choice of utensils, the sequence of dishes, and even the part of the dish to be eaten first were all meticulously regulated. Faced with an unfamiliar North African dish, the diners had been at a loss.
...
After the luncheon, the celebrations continued with a Tunisian-themed ball.
The nobles dressed in North African-inspired attire, and exotic music filled the hall as they began to dance.
Standing in his usual corner, Joseph watched as Tunisian-style clothing, adapted into the latest Parisian fashion, swirled across the ballroom. He silently calculated how much Parisian designers must have profited from this trend.
While many reveled in the festivities, not everyone shared in the joy. Among the military aristocracy, unease and discontent simmered beneath the surface.
“Who was it that said Berthier’s forces wouldn’t even make it into Tunis?” a middle-aged officer muttered. “Not only did he stabilize the situation, but he also defeated the Algerians!”
“Who could have guessed the Algerians would be so incompetent? If we’d known, we would have gone to Tunis ourselves!”
General Astu frowned and said, “This has significantly boosted Berthier’s reputation. You all know he’s aligned with the royal family. If this continues, the monarchy’s influence over the military will only grow!”
“Exactly,” said another officer. “Didn’t the Moulin Corps just pledge allegiance to the Crown? And it was under the Queen’s direct orders—not the Minister of War—that the Duke of Villars’ forces were sent to North Africa!”
The Marquis of Saint-Véran, who had just returned to Paris, scowled and added, “We cannot let this trend continue. If the monarchy no longer relies on our armies, they’ll discard us like worn-out boots!”
A voice murmured quietly, “But what can we do? We have no way to counter Berthier.”
Another voice, even softer, suggested, “Perhaps working with the monarchy isn’t entirely out of the question…”
The speaker was immediately met with glares from the other officers. This was an unspoken taboo. Controlling the military meant unrestricted access to France’s defense budget, lucrative procurement contracts, and campaign funds. Handing command back to the Crown would jeopardize their fortunes and the ability to pass their ranks to their descendants, tarnishing their family legacies.
General Astu spoke firmly: “We must remain united. Berthier is not invincible.
“Don’t forget, his forces were originally part of the French Guards, which were split into two factions—the remaining Guards and the Mariette Corps. We could push for the Guards to be reconstituted, bringing both groups under a single high commander.
“This would force the Crown to issue orders through the commander, limiting direct control over Berthier’s troops.”
“That’s a solid plan!” the Marquis of Saint-Véran immediately agreed. “As for the Moulin Corps, I recall it was originally commanded by Major General Villars, but the Duchess of Villars abruptly reclaimed it.”
He referred to Major General Villars, the uncle of Duchess Marie Émilie de Villars.
“We should use our influence to support Major General Villars. That young duchess, barely sixteen or seventeen, poses little threat.”
“And we must engineer a scenario where Berthier faces an enemy he cannot handle, forcing the monarchy to compromise with us.”
“You’re absolutely right. But we need to avoid a repeat of the Algerians—clearly, they weren’t enough of a challenge…”
...
Constantinople
While Tunis’s departure from the Ottoman Empire did not inflict tangible losses on the empire, the news caused a significant uproar.
At a time when the Ottomans were already suffering major setbacks against Russia, this announcement became the final straw, shattering public confidence.
Throughout the streets, people whispered about the defeats on both the northern and southern fronts. Pessimism spread like wildfire, casting a shadow over the empire.