I Am the Crown Prince in France

Chapter 217 Provinces and Colonies

The corpses left on the ground by the Tunisian Praetorian Guards retreated. The rebel army immediately launched a counterattack under the order of the French officer.

Seeing this, Zhemil directly drew his machete and rushed onto the battlefield. He led the soldiers with shouts and chased after the Ottomans to fight.

Although tens of thousands of rebels surged forward in a chaotic manner, and although there was no queue or formation to speak of, the Imperial Guards had completely lost their will to fight at this time and just ran away, so the battle quickly turned into a one-sided massacre. .

More than two hours later, almost all the Tunisian Guards were driven to a small area in the north of the city. Seeing that the situation was over, Koca had no choice but to order his men to lay down their weapons and surrender.

The rebel soldiers were killing until their eyes were bloodshot. They showed no mercy to the master of the Guards who shouted surrender. It was not until Dhemele personally came forward to restrain him that the massacre stopped.

At this time, tens of thousands of the Imperial Guards had been killed and only about 7,000 were left. Senior officers including Koca were hacked to death with random swords.

Dhemele left some soldiers to guard the prisoners. He led an army and took advantage of the situation and rushed into the Tunisian city.

The bustling capital of Tunisia soon came under rebel control. The imperial guards in the city had long since fled. The indigenous residents ran into the streets and cheered loudly in celebration to the rebels.

Soon, thousands of rebel soldiers surrounded the Cahir Palace. Zhemele rushed in with the officers and senior leaders of the indigenous tribes.

Haji came to the palace gate tremblingly with the support of Pruspur and other police intelligence agents. Before he could say anything, the roar of the rebel soldiers sounded like waves around him:

Execute him!

Kill this Ottoman!

Kill him and he will be considered a Guardsman!

Beheading...

Haji suddenly turned pale with fear. He never thought that he would be killed in Bey's position before his butt was even warmed up.

Zhemele and the indigenous senior officials beside him looked at each other in silence, and they all nodded slightly.

He pulled out his scimitar, held up his turban, and strode towards Haji:

You Ottoman dog, you must wash away the sins you have committed with blood!

Haji looked at the blood-stained sharp blade in horror and staggered back in fright, but Jamil caught up with him in a few steps and suddenly raised the scimitar in his hand.

At the critical moment, a shout came from behind the crowd:

Save someone under the knife!

Zhemele and others turned around and saw Joan, the French consul in Tunisia, bringing Elder Alayi, Shilada and other scholars, as well as several French officers, pushing past the indigenous soldiers and walking over.

Jamil and the indigenous chiefs hurriedly saluted the dozen people, and then heard Qiao An say in proficient Arabic:

Dear General Zhemele, I think you may be mistaken.

Ah? You mean?

Qiao An bowed to Haji and signaled:

Bey is Bey, he is not a Janissary, and he is not an Ottoman.

All the indigenous people immediately looked at each other and said to themselves: Wasn't the first generation Bey Hassan an officer of the Ottoman Guards, who drove away the previous leader of the Guards, and then took control of Tunisia?

Why not?

Qiao An immediately followed the instructions of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and argued:

Bey is the ruler of Tunisia. He belongs only to Tunisia, not to the Ottomans. Strictly speaking, it was the Praetorian Guards who betrayed him, secretly colluded with the Ottomans, and persecuted the descendants of Rome in Tunisia!

He motioned to Haji again:

Hajibey's grandmother is Genoese and his mother is Tugurt. Even if he has a little bit of Ottoman blood in his body, it has already been very thin.

Hearing this, Haji secretly wiped his sweat and was glad that his grandfather and father did not strictly follow the traditions of the Guards because of their greed for beauty, otherwise he would really be dead today.

Qiao An looked at Haji again and said loudly:

Do you think so, dear Bey?

Haji immediately became excited, desperately seized this last chance to survive, and nodded vigorously:

Yes, yes! I will always be a Tunisian, and am... oh, a glorious descendant of Rome! I have nothing to do with the damn Ottomans!

A Tu tribe chief frowned and raised an objection:

But Bey is also a pasha canonized by the Ottomans.

Qiao An immediately waved his hand:

That was all because of the Ottoman threat. And Haji Bey never accepted the canonization.

Haji continued to nod:

Yes, yes! I will never be an Ottoman pasha!

Zhemele and the indigenous chiefs looked at each other again in confusion. Seeing this, Qiao An quietly winked at Elder Alayi.

The latter immediately took a few steps forward and said in a melodious tone:

Everyone, Bey is a ruler recognized and served by all tribes. He is not an Ottoman, and he should not be betrayed by you.

Ishak came out from behind Zhemil at the right time and took the lead in stroking his chest and saluting Haji:

I will always be loyal to you, great Bey.

Seeing that the leaders of the rebel army were taking the lead, the indigenous chiefs hurriedly expressed their allegiance to Haji one after another, followed by the military officers.

In the end, thousands of indigenous people present, including Djemel, bowed their heads and saluted Haji. The latter finally breathed a long sigh of relief and looked at Qiao An and others who saved his life with extremely grateful eyes.

South of Bizerte.

In a villa protected by Swiss Guards in red military uniforms, Joseph yawned, dropped the horse in his hand, and ate the black pawn on the chessboard.

Since he promised the queen to stay in the boat, he couldn't go anywhere. He could only stay on the wooden boat in the house and pass the time by playing chess.

Berthier, who was sitting opposite, pushed the car forward three spaces, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked the doubts in his heart:

Your Highness, why do you care so much about the Tunisian Bey? I mean, maybe it would be a good choice to let the rioters vent their anger on him.

Joseph moved the queen to keep his horse:

After all, Haji has cooperated with us. Although he is out for revenge and to get his sweetheart back, morally speaking, we should not just ignore him. Moreover, although he has no real power, he is an unexpected person after all. A symbolic figure in Nigeria. Various government orders are issued from the Kahir Palace in his name, and they can be implemented faster. If he dies, wait for the local Tunisians to balance the interests of all parties and launch a government. I don’t know when it will be.”

What he didn't say was that Haji had no ability and was better managed. If a Tunisian indigenous person with outstanding methods and strategies is allowed to take power, it will be a bit troublesome.

Berthier held the chess pieces and nodded:

Your Highness's concerns are indeed very necessary, but I thought too simply.

Joseph smiled and said:

In addition, having a Bey can avoid the possibility of military dictatorship. It will also facilitate the future merger of Tunisia and France.

Berthier was a little surprised:

Are you saying that Tunisia will not be a French colony, but... a province?

That was my intention. So from the very beginning I was promoting French identity here.

But, Your Highness, Berthier hesitated, will the cost be too high?

People of later generations often think that colonies are full of bloody oppression, taxes are sky-high, and people everywhere are in dire straits.

In fact, most of the time, colonies would only be subject to some trade restrictions, such as prohibiting buying from someone or selling to someone. The tax rate is not too high. For example, the various tax rates in the United States before independence were even lower than those in the UK, the sovereign country.

The biggest difference between colonies and non-colonies is investment - no matter how low the tax rate is in the colonies, the money paid will eventually be spent on the mother country. The colony does not receive any construction funds, and there is no money for disaster relief if something goes wrong. The local residents are bound to be angry.

At the same time, if there is a problem in the colony, the mother country can just ignore it without any psychological burden.

Therefore, the investment in building a province is actually much higher than that of a colony.

Joseph looked at the chessboard, and with some reluctance replaced the horse and pawn on the opposite side with the rook, nodded and said:

You are right. This means that we have to invest a lot of money in Tunisia, especially in the early stage. He changed the topic, But it is worth it. Tunisia is rich in products and fertile land, and at the same time it has If it is built as a good port with an excellent location, the initial investment will be recouped very quickly. In fact, it will even become an important economic pillar of France in the future!

He was well aware of the importance of North Africa to France in later generations. Even without much construction, North Africa was once the cornerstone of France becoming a world power.

In the twentieth century, Chirac, the last decent French president, once said, Without Africa, France will be reduced to a third-rate country.

At the moment, if France wants to compete with Britain, simply plundering resources from North Africa is completely unfeasible. After all, it is far less vast than the British colonies in America and India.

Since quantity cannot be compared, then quality can only be compared.

Develop Tunisia to become the core region of France and achieve productivity close to that of European territories. The contribution of such a region to national strength will be far from comparable to that of the Americas or the Far East.

Joseph looked at Berthier and continued:

Did you know that compared to the colonies of Britain and Spain, North Africa has an incomparable advantage, that is, it is very close to us? Marseille and the Port of Bizerte are only separated by the not-so-wide Mediterranean Sea. From Corsica After departure, even with a relatively slow ship, it only takes three days to reach Tunisia. It is shorter than the time from Lyon to Paris.

The British are destined to lose the United States, because it takes more than 40 days for the decree issued from London to reach Philadelphia. Similarly, it will take a month and a half for the British to know what happened there.

You see, India will also be separated from Britain in the future, because it is also a very far away place.

But Tunisia is different. As long as we have a firm foothold here, no one can let it leave the embrace of France.

He added in his heart: Unless the national consciousness here awakens and strives for independence from within. Therefore, before the storm of national awakening spreads in Europe, we should cultivate a sense of identity between France and Tunisia as soon as possible, so that they will really be monolithic in the future.

Of course, in addition to recognizing the same origin, allowing more French people to immigrate to Tunisia is the most reliable method.

After all, Tunisia currently has a population of less than 1.8 million, of which hundreds of thousands are of European descent. As long as the immigration policy is appropriate, in a few years these places will become physically of the same origin.

In the past, Berthier only knew that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had extraordinary military and strategic vision and amazing political skills. He did not expect that he also had such a profound understanding of the international pattern. The words son of the gods immediately came to his mind.

Because apart from this reason, he really couldn't think of how to explain that the young crown prince had so many advanced insights and strategies.

Thoughts were surging in his heart, but his hand did not stop. He pushed the back forward a few steps and said softly:

Your Highness, General.

Joseph looked at the chessboard and smiled helplessly:

It seems like a sure win. Your chess skills are really amazing.

You are too polite. Berthier put away the chess pieces and said casually, Speaking of chess, a Hungarian named Kempelen invented a machine called the 'Turk'. It was a machine that could play chess. It’s a chess machine. I played against it once, and it only lasted 14 moves before it was defeated.”

So awesome? Joseph's first reaction was to think of Alpha Dog, but he immediately gave up the idea - in this era, even steam engines have not yet been developed, how can artificial intelligence be possible?

He immediately remembered that he seemed to have seen this on the forum before, but it turned out to be a scam - someone was hiding in the machine and using magnets to control the chess pieces.

So he winked at the Chief of General Staff:

Lieutenant Colonel Berthier, I can tell you a trick to help you defeat the 'Turk' easily.

While the two were talking, they saw Perna knocking on the door and entering. After saluting them respectively, she pinched the corners of her clothes nervously and said:

Your Highness, Commander, I heard that many soldiers in the legion have been suffering from dysentery recently. Maybe I can help.

People in this era did not accept female doctors at all. Perna can also serve beside the open-minded Joseph. She came to Tunisia without any help, and was taken care of by His Highness all the way due to seasickness, so at this time, she wanted to do something to prove herself.

Joseph nodded: On behalf of the soldiers, I thank you, Doctor Perna. However, you still have to change into men's clothes.

Well! Thank you, Your Highness!

…

Paris.

Palais Royal.

The Duke of Orleans read the latest Paris News comfortably in the sunshine from the window. The newspaper published some things about Tunisia. Although the specific situation is not clear, it is said that the place has fallen into chaos and the war is spreading everywhere.

Obviously, the Crown Prince, who has no political experience, screwed up!

He happily hummed dance music softly, and when he raised his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his son passing by the window.

He felt something was wrong with Phillip, so he rubbed his eyes hurriedly and stopped his son to look carefully.

Under the bright sunshine, the latter had large red pimples on his neck, and his left eye was also very red.

The Duke of Orleans immediately frowned and asked with concern:

Philip, are you sick?

The Duke of Chartres showed an indifferent smile:

It's nothing, just romantic love sickness, dear father.

When the Duke of Orleans heard this, he felt like he was struck by lightning, and his whole body froze in place - the so-called eros disease was the nickname given to syphilis by the nobles.