The salon was primarily attended by the erging capitalist aristocracy, along with a few enlightened old nobles and business owners.
Mada d'Époulle, the hostess, warmly instructed her servants to attend to the guests, but her eyes were fixed on Mirabeau, who was passionately delivering a speech.
Although this gathering was terd a salon, it was essentially a stage for Mirabeau to deliver a lecture—specifically, the ideas about industrial developnt that Joseph had shared with him the previous day. Mirabeau had spent the entire afternoon organizing his thoughts and morized them overnight just to present them here today.
No one competed with him for the floor; whenever he paused, soone would imdiately urge him to continue.
Mirabeau, with his inherent gravitas and compelling oratory, painted a vivid picture of France's bright industrial future, as outlined by Joseph.
Around him, so people listened with fervor, clenching their fists in excitent.
Others nodded thoughtfully, deep in contemplation.
Most, however, stared at him with eyes gleaming with excitent.
It wasn't until dusk, when Mirabeau's voice grew hoarse, that the crowd finally let him rest and began discussing in small groups:
"There will be so many opportunities in Nancy in the future. I must open a workshop there."
"Do you think the tax reductions that the Crown Prince ntioned will actually be implented?"
"As long as the King signs the decree, we must do everything we can to ensure the High Court passes it!"
"If what His Highness ntioned cos to fruition, France will undoubtedly enter a new golden age!"
"I hear that the Eden Treaty is also going to be revised; this is truly the perfect ti to invest."
After drinking several glasses of wine to soothe his throat, Mirabeau casually ntioned the Crown Prince's plan to promote potato cultivation but noted that there was insufficient funding.
Imdiately, a middle-aged nobleman stood up and said, "Count Mirabeau, I can lend His Highness 100,000 livres, without interest. Please convey my offer to him."
With soone taking the lead, others quickly followed suit:
"I'm fairly well-off at the mont; I can lend 200,000 livres."
"I'm planning to invest in Nancy, so I can only spare 100,000 livres."
"I can offer…"
Although these n were quite wealthy, sums of ten or twenty thousand livres were still significant.
However, after hearing Mirabeau's speech, they had begun to see the Crown Prince as the future of French industry and even political reform, so they were eager to support him. Moreover, since Mirabeau ntioned that the Crown Prince was offering shares in the Paris Angel Company as collateral, they felt their money would be safe.
In a short ti, including Mirabeau's own contribution, this group of affluent capitalists had pooled together 1.8 million livres. Several others also indicated that they had resources available to assist with the procurent or transportation of potatoes.
After this brief interlude, the group resud their enthusiastic discussions about the industrial developnt zone and industrial chains, and it was not until late at night that they reluctantly dispersed.
Joseph had no idea that this salon would mark the beginning of the formation of his future political base.
At the Paris Police Academy, on the dusty east side of the training ground, two n stood on a viewing platform, both wearing military uniforms. One was in the blue uniform of the Paris police, while the other wore a white military uniform, but both had the rank of major on their epaulets.
The man in white, who appeared to be in his thirties, had a high nose bridge and light blue eyes that always seed tinged with lancholy.
He watched a group of police cadets doing shuttle runs in the dust and asked the officer next to him, "François, what's the point of making them run back and forth like that?"
The officer, who had been recruited directly from a comndation ceremony in Holland by Joseph, was Dubois.
Dubois chuckled, "Alexandre, this is called a shuttle run, a standard training exercise at the academy. It helps improve the recruits' stamina and reaction ti."
Alexandre looked doubtful. "Does this really help? Shouldn't they be drilling more on formations?"
"Formation training is just the basics. Shuttle runs help the recruits improve their speed in charging and changing direction." Dubois pointed to the other end of the training ground. "Look over there. That's called a pull-up. Each recruit has to do dozens of these every day to build arm strength. You know, soldiers often have to hold their rifles for hours on end, and this exercise helps them maintain a steady aim.
"And then there's..."
As he spoke, a squad of police cadets marched in formation onto the training ground, kicking up even more dust as they loudly chanted their cadence.
Dubois grinned with satisfaction and gestured toward the squad. "Aha, you know what? These recruits have just completed the most 'grueling' training exercise—a one-league cross-country run in full gear."
Alexandre exclaid, "You an they just ran a full league?"
Dubois nodded. "Yes, and they had to finish in under 15 minutes."
Alexandre's eyes widened in shock.
A league is about four kiloters! Even the most elite soldiers couldn't run that distance in under 15 minutes!
But Dubois wasn't done yet. "Each of them carried only 18 pounds of gear."
He looked slightly dissatisfied. "His Highness, the Crown Prince, set the standard at a minimum of 25 pounds, but these guys... sigh, they still can't et that requirent. They need more training."
Alexandre tried to keep his composure. "You're saying that these exercises were all ordered by the Crown Prince?"
"Yes, I ntioned it in my letter. His Highness has co up with a lot of innovative military theories, and that extends to training as well. To be honest, I didn't understand the purpose at first either."
Dubois bead with pride. "But soon, I realized that the police recruits trained according to His Highness's thods show significant improvents in both formation and stability."
In this era, soldiers heavily emphasized formation drills while often neglecting physical fitness training.
But the reality is that only with solid physical fitness can soldiers effectively execute complex formations and maneuvers. As military theory evolved into the modern era, no army dared to overlook physical training.
Naturally, Joseph had directly instilled this correct philosophy into his own forces.
Alexandre watched as the blue-uniford cadets lifted their wooden rifles and began practicing line formations, unable to contain his curiosity. "François, aren't these n training to be police officers? Why are they practicing these formations? Do they really need infantry tactics to deal with Parisian gangs?"
A strange smile appeared on Dubois' face. "Well, actually, only the recruits with the worst grades will end up as police officers."
"Oh? What about the others?"
Dubois quickly changed the subject to avoid answering. The academy had strict rules: the fact that elite cadets were being trained to military officer standards was not to be disclosed to anyone.
(End of Chapter)
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