Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Chapter 1330: Chapter 1235: The Power of the Church

In the distance came a child’s shout: “Out of bounds!”

Also in clumsy French.

Then seven or eight little Indian boys came running wildly, only to realize they had caused trouble.

An eight or nine-year-old boy hurriedly apologized to Napoleon, “Ve-very sorry, esteemed…”

He seemed to forget how to pronounce that word.

Napoleon motioned for his attendant to return the ball to the child and asked, “Were you playing soccer?”

The boy stared wide-eyed, bewildered. He didn’t understand.

Carol said from the side, “Yes, Major. They play soccer for a while after class. It’s their favorite thing to do.”

“After class?” Napoleon said casually, “What are they learning?”

“Of course, French. In the future, whether doing business or communicating with the government, French will be indispensable.”

Napoleon nodded, thinking how quickly these Indians were learning. He had studied French himself at the age of eight and knew how difficult it was.

Of course, if he saw Rahman’s simplified version of French, he probably wouldn’t think so.

Some of the smarter Cherokee people could even engage in simple conversations after just a year of study, such as Carol. But for real French people, their French was only just understandable, and they had to fight the urge to correct all kinds of mistakes.

The children left with the soccer, and Carol sighed with feeling, “This is simply the best game in the world.

“Everyone loves it. After learning to play, the children even train in hunting and combat much faster than before.”

Napoleon was a bit surprised but soon understood.

Playing soccer at least requires understanding teamwork, understanding the importance of formations, and even learning to command and follow orders. These are all basic qualities of a competent soldier.

It seems that soccer training will have to be promoted in the military camps in the future. He thought to himself, no wonder the Crown Prince created this sport.

Someone must have informed the Cherokee Clan Leader Hase, who, together with a few elders and people of the tribe, came out to greet Napoleon with smiles and salutes, “Welcome to our presence, esteemed Major Bonaparte.”

Even though his French had a strong accent, his grammar and tenses were very standard, clearly learned a long time ago.

Napoleon followed him into the house, which had seven rooms and served as both the clan leader’s home and the tribe’s “administrative building.”

Napoleon accepted the pipe Hase passed to him and tried taking a puff, immediately feeling as if a hot iron had been shoved down his throat, forcing himself not to cough out with considerable willpower.

After a moment, he pulled out the Governor’s conscription order and handed it to Hase, “I am ordered by His Highness the Crown Prince to serve as the commander of the Saint Louis Louisiana militia camp.

“You know, the Americans have always wanted to control the West Bank of the Mississippi River. I even encountered eight infiltrators this morning.

“So we must build an army to deal with them.

“I hope the warriors of the Cherokee Tribe will eagerly join.”

Hase glanced over the conscription order, noting the clauses about “voluntary enlistment,” and nodded with a smile, “We do have to guard against those damned Americans.

“Long Teeth, go find 40 of the strongest tribesmen.”

Napoleon frowned slightly. The Cherokee Tribe had a population of eight or nine thousand, and he had planned to recruit at least 300 soldiers, yet the clan leader offered only 40.

He tried to remain calm and said, “Clan Leader, all weapons and military uniforms for the soldiers are provided by the militia camp, and they receive 9 francs in salary each month.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Hase chuckled, “But you see, the town is expanding, spring planting is about to begin, oh, and trade—all requiring a lot of manpower.

“Alright, we can send you 50 warriors, but really no more.”

Napoleon found this quite different from what he had anticipated as a call for unified response.

“We need at least 5,000 soldiers to effectively protect Saint Louis Louisiana. The colonial government army only has 1,800 men. So the Cherokee Tribe should ideally provide 200…”

Hase enthusiastically said, “You should visit the Creek Tribe. They have over two thousand warriors!”

Napoleon was quietly gritting his teeth.

He had heard from the Governor about the Indian warriors, estimating that out of two thousand, picking 800 qualified soldiers would be quite good.

After four in the afternoon, Napoleon left the small town with a list of 70 Cherokee soldiers in his pocket, riding to the Miami Tribe settlement 80 kilometers away.

A few days later, he was sent off by the Miami Chief with 60 soldiers.

After passing through four tribes, Napoleon finally got angry. Altogether he had recruited less than 300 soldiers; these Indians all wanted to preserve their strength and let other tribes sacrifice more.

“That’s it,” he waved to his attendant, “We’re heading back to New Orleans. We have no choice but for the Governor to issue a mandatory conscription order.”

However, while passing through Arkansas, he unexpectedly encountered a priest from France on the road—Father Vigne’s assistant, Lorier.

Through a boring journey, the two “French compatriots” quickly struck up a conversation.

“You’re saying the Americans might attack Saint Louis Louisiana?” Lorier frowned.

“The intelligence department says so. And I need enough soldiers. You know, training them takes considerable time.”

“How many do you need?”

“At least 3,000 more recruits, but these Indian tribes…”

“Leave it to me.” Lorier confidently said, “To be precise, leave it to the Church.”

“Do you really have a way?”

“Of course.”

Half a month later.

The Cherokee Tribe was boiling. Nearly every young man in the tribe was madly crowding in front of Clan Leader Hase’s door, and even strong women were among them.

The crowd waved their hands and shouted fervently, “Holy War! Holy War!”

“I want to join the Holy Knight Order!”

“Follow Commander Bonaparte to crusade against heretics!”

Yes, just this morning, the Saint Louis Louisiana Church issued a call for believers to participate in the Holy War against the American heretics.

In Clan Leader Hase’s house, he was disputing with several elders, “If we send 700 men, this year’s spring planting will be affected.”

“Let the women work. We must answer the call from Jesus!”

“But Commander Bonaparte said a maximum of 300…”

“Tell him our warriors can forgo the salary.”

Meanwhile, over 1,100 Creek warriors were already on their way to Baton Rouge.

On the road, they encountered hundreds of Shawnee people, and the two sides immediately engaged in a “race,” fearing the Holy War positions would be filled if they arrived late.

By early September, a roster with as many as 7,700 robust men from various tribes was handed to Napoleon.