Chapter 261: The Marquis of Wellesley's Journey to Morocco
The officers in the room were all visibly excited when they heard the news.
They hadn't fully grasped the significance of the General Staff that had been discussed earlier; some even viewed it as a way for the Prince to consolidate military power, so it hadn't stirred much emotion. But the honor and meaning of their corps being officially granted a royal title were something every one of them understood very well.
Though they had privately referred to themselves as the Prince's Guard Corps, that title had been bestowed informally by the Prince himself. But now, this was the real deal, a royal title officially signed off by the King!
This meant that Versailles recognized Berthier's corps and the police cadets, elevating them to the top ranks of the military.
The officers were thrilled at the thought of how other units would now show them respect and envy their uniforms adorned with the royal insignia. The prospect of this prestige made their hearts swell with pride!
They also knew that becoming an official Royal Guard would bring higher pay and better treatment, although these perks were just the icing on the cake...
In unison, the officers stood at attention, their voices ringing out: "Long live the King!"
Lefebvre was the first to speak up again: "Thank you, Your Highness! The loyalty of the corps will always be with you!"
The other officers immediately echoed: "Thank you, Your Highness! The loyalty of the corps will always be with you!"
They knew very well that without the Prince, most of them would still be toiling away in some regular unit, with little hope of advancing, let alone dreaming of a royal title.
Everything they had now was thanks to the Prince, and they couldn't help but feel deeply grateful.
Joseph smiled and nodded in response, motioning for everyone to sit down. He offered a few more words of encouragement before finally announcing the end of the meeting.
After the other officers had left, Berthier approached Joseph with a look of guilt on his face. "Your Highness, the recruitment of noble officers that you instructed has not gone smoothly... There are rumors that the officers have formed an 'alliance' to resist the Guard Corps."
Joseph was aware that while many of the hereditary noble officers were incompetent, not all of them could be dismissed outright. Even among Napoleon's marshals, there were several officers from old noble families who were highly capable.
Moreover, the Guard Corps was currently short on mid-level officers.
When the corps was smaller, this wasn't as noticeable. But now that Joseph was planning to rapidly expand the size of his modern army, the shortage of mid-level officers had become a serious problem—junior officers could be trained at the Paris Police Academy, but mid-level officers needed combat experience, which took time to accumulate.
Given the short history of the Guard Corps, it hadn't had enough time to develop a sufficient number of seasoned mid-level officers.
If they could bring in some enlightened noble officers and train them a bit, it would greatly help in quickly building up combat capabilities.
Besides, Joseph wasn't arrogant enough to think that with so many military academies in France, which were producing enough officers for the entire French army, he could manage with just one academy in Paris.
Therefore, integrating existing military schools was also crucial.
These schools were still largely dominated by old noble officers. Even if they closed down some of the less effective schools, they still needed the support of many hereditary officers to ensure they had enough teaching staff.
Joseph frowned slightly, realizing that the resistance among old noble officers was stronger than he had anticipated.
But he could understand their position. His military reforms had threatened their "iron rice bowl," their secure positions. Although they didn't dare oppose him openly after the last incident where they had passively resisted efforts to quell the riots, they were still trying to resist in more subtle ways.
Joseph had initially thought that offering better pay would be enough to attract a good number of old noble officers. He hadn't expected them to be so "united."
Berthier hesitated before suggesting, "Your Highness, do you think we should raise the salary for officer recruitment even further...?"
Joseph immediately shook his head. "No."
Raising the pay too much for these hereditary officers would certainly cause resentment among the common and lower noble officers.
How to integrate these groups? Joseph found himself deep in thought...
North Africa
Meknes, Morocco
The British Foreign Secretary, the Marquis of Wellesley, glanced back at the towering city walls and the imposing black guards standing on either side of the gate. He turned to the British consul to Morocco beside him and remarked, "This is truly a magnificent city. Wouldn't you agree, Baron Green?"
The short, middle-aged man nodded. "Yes, my lord. At least among the Maghreb states, this is the largest and most prosperous city."
"And it's the only one with enough strength to curb the reckless ambitions of those adventurers in Versailles."
As the Marquis spoke, he and Baron Green got back into the carriage, which headed toward the royal palace.
The Foreign Secretary glanced at the black cavalrymen escorting them and frowned as he whispered, "Their Sultan has a peculiar taste in soldiers. I mean, they have others who are far more pleasing to the eye."
Baron Green explained, "A hundred years ago, their Sultan Ismail formed a 'Holy Warriors Corps' of 20,000 black slave soldiers to defeat coastal rebels and establish the Alaouite dynasty. Since then, their entire royal guard has been composed of black soldiers."
"Well," the Marquis shrugged, "whether they're black slaves or Arabs, as long as they're effective on the battlefield. Oh, I remember that Colonel Hyde Parker of ours was once defeated by them."
He was referring to an incident during the Seven Years' War when a British naval officer, Colonel Hyde Parker, had insulted the Sultan of Morocco and was subsequently captured by the Moroccan navy, which was essentially a fleet of Barbary pirates. The British had to pay 200,000 silver coins to ransom him.
It was after this incident that the British became much more reluctant to provoke this powerful nation on the northwest coast of Africa.
"Do you think Touess will accept your proposal?" Baron Green finally found a moment to interrupt the casual chatter and get to the point. "I mean, the territory west of Oran is quite a large area."
He was referring to the Dey of Algiers, known as Touess. Their main objective in coming to Morocco was to "broker" an agreement between Algiers and Morocco.
"He has no other choice," the Marquis replied confidently. "His council will force him to accept."
Baron Green quietly corrected him, "That's the 'Divan,' my lord. It's quite different from a typical council."
As they spoke, the carriage came to a stop.
This time, they were greeted not by the black guards the Marquis found so distasteful, but by a Berber man with light brown skin.
The court official respectfully bowed to the two men. "Honored guests, the great Sultan is awaiting you."
(End of Chapter)
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