That summer, Napoleon passed his final examinations without a hitch and graduated from the military academy, just as he had hoped. He was assigned to the Raphael Legion and commissioned as a second lieutenant in the artillery. On the day Napoleon left Paris, Joseph went to the coach station to see him off. Napoleon wore a new gray-blue uniform, with a sword at his waist. He looked quite dashing; if only he were a little taller, he might even have cut an imposing figure.
"You're starting to look like an officer," Joseph said, patting Napoleon on the shoulder. "Work hard and become a general soon."
"What's so great about being a general in France?" Napoleon muttered.
"Don't say that in front of anyone else," Joseph said. "Work hard in the army and acquire some real skills. They'll come in handy whatever you do in the future."
After seeing Napoleon off, Joseph returned to the academy. He had just sat down at his desk and had not yet had a chance to make himself a cup of coffee when Will, the headmaster's secretary, walked in.
"Mr. Bonaparte, the headmaster would like to see you," Will said.
Joseph hurried to his feet and followed Will toward the headmaster's private two-story building.
"Will, do you know what the headmaster wants?" Joseph asked as they followed the path beside the flowerbeds toward the building.
"Something to do with an engineering project from the higher-ups, I think. I'm not sure of the details, but you'll find out when you see him," Will replied.
As they talked, they entered Count Dupont's building. A powdered-wigged attendant opened the door for them, then took the hat Joseph handed him. "Mr. Bonaparte, the count is waiting for you in his upstairs office. Please follow me."
Joseph followed the attendant up to the second floor and into Count Dupont's office. The attendant then withdrew.
"Ah, Mr. Bonaparte, there you are," Count Dupont said.
"Headmaster, did you need me for something?" Joseph asked.
"Yes, something related to engineering. Hmm... Have you ever been to Calais, the place famous for its lace?" Count Dupont suddenly asked.
"No," Joseph replied.
"Oh, among the provincial cities, Calais is a decent one. It's a fine place to take one or several mistresses on holiday. But that's not why I brought up Calais. I'm asking because of a military assignment. Would you be willing to go?" Count Dupont asked with a smile.
"I'd be glad to serve my country," Joseph replied quickly. "May I ask what the assignment is?"
"It's nothing complicated. The batteries at Calais Harbor are old and no longer fit for use, so they need to build a new one to defend the harbor. The project requires a mathematical adviser. It was originally meant to be assigned to Mr. Monge, but he has other important business, so he recommended you. Joseph—do you mind if I call you that?"
"Of course not," Joseph said quickly.
"Good, Joseph," Count Dupont said. "The academy's salary is quite limited. It's enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to live well on. These assignments can be tiring, but they pay quite well. After a few, you can put away a tidy sum. Take Monge, for instance. His salary isn't much higher than yours, but thanks to the number of such projects he takes on, he earns at least six or seven times as much as you."
Joseph knew that Monge had recommended him partly because he was busy with other matters, but also plainly because he wanted to help him. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said gratefully.
"Why thank me? You should be thanking Mr. Monge," Count Dupont said with a laugh. "Of course, Monge is a bit old-fashioned. If you send him a gift, he might think you're insulting his character..." Count Dupont shook his head. "The best way to thank him is to send him a paper with some original ideas. Hmm, both Monge and I hope you'll use this opportunity as mathematical adviser to advance your scholarship. The work there isn't especially urgent, but if you have nothing else to attend to, get your current work in order and report to Calais as soon as possible."
Joseph knew that this was basically the equivalent of being offered a cup of tea as a polite hint to leave. He thanked Count Dupont once more and withdrew. The school term was nearly over, and he had little left to do. After taking care of a few things, he set off for Calais by coach three days later, carrying a letter of introduction signed by Count Dupont.
In the future, the Eurostar would connect Paris and Calais, making the trip take less than an hour. But there was no such convenience in this era. It took Joseph two whole days to reach Calais, arriving near dusk.
Since it was already late, Joseph did not go straight to the naval camp at Calais Harbor. The navy would probably have no one available to receive him at that hour. Instead, he found an ordinary inn near the port and spent the night fighting bedbugs. At daybreak, he left the inn, resolved never to stay in such a cheap lodging again.
Joseph walked along the stone-paved streets toward the harbor.
Calais Harbor was divided into two parts. On one side was the noisy civilian wharf, where several piers were crowded with fluyt ships and various other vessels. Though it was still early, sailors were already scrubbing decks. On the other side was the French Navy's military dockyard. It was much smaller than the civilian wharf, with only one pier. Beside it lay a single-deck frigate and a patrol boat with just two masts. The French Navy always kept its main forces in the Mediterranean. Calais Harbor was too close to Britain—if you stood on high ground along the shore and looked west, on a clear day you could even see the white cliffs stretching along either side of Dover Harbor. Calais was barely more than thirty kilometers from the British naval base at Dover. The French might have worried that, if they stationed their main fleet there, the British Navy could one day bottle it up in the harbor. So they never based their main force there. Perhaps for the same reason, the British never stationed their main fleet at Dover either.
Joseph headed toward the military dockyard and walked up to its gate, which was blocked by chevaux-de-frise.
"Stop! Military zone. No approaching!" a red-nosed sentry shouted, then came toward him with a bayonet-fitted flintlock in hand.
"I'm Joseph Bonaparte, a mathematics teacher at the Paris Military Academy. I've been ordered to report to Commander Villefort," Joseph said, taking out his letter of introduction and handing it over.
The sentry shifted his gun to his left hand and took the letter with his right. He glanced at the front, then looked Joseph over. "Sir, please wait here a moment."
With that, he turned and went through the gate with the letter. After giving another sentry a few instructions, he headed toward a small building nearby.
Joseph waited outside the gate. A while later, he saw the sentry return with a captain.
"Mr. Bonaparte, I'm Navy Captain Cissé. Commander Villefort isn't at the harbor right now. He's at the fort up on that hill. I can send someone to take you there."
"Sorry for the trouble," Joseph replied.
"Can you ride a horse?" Captain Cissé asked.
"A little," Joseph replied.
"Good," Cissé said. He turned to the sentry. "Pierre, go bring us two horses."
The sentry acknowledged the order and left. Cissé began chatting with Joseph.
"The Paris Military Academy has such a young mathematics teacher now?" Cissé said.
"Mr. Monge was young when he first made a name for himself, too," Joseph replied.
"Ah, yes. Geniuses are all like that," Cissé said. "Hmm, judging by your name, were your ancestors Italian?"
"I'm from Corsica," Joseph replied. "So I suppose I'm half Italian."
"My grandfather's generation was still Italian. But our family has been in France for three generations now. Hmm, I can barely speak Italian," Cissé said. "I've heard the Corsican dialect is very close to Italian."
"It's very close indeed. In a sense, Corsican would be better considered a dialect of Italian..."
As they talked, the sentry Pierre returned, leading two horses.
They were ordinary military mounts. The navy only needed horses for commuting and pulling loads, not warhorses for charging into battle.
Cissé handed Joseph the reins of a gray-and-white mare. "Mr. Bonaparte, follow me. I'll keep to a slower pace."
Joseph thanked him, took the reins, and swung himself into the saddle. Cissé stood nearby, seemingly ready to give him a hand if necessary. When he saw Joseph mount neatly, he nodded, then swung onto the other horse and rode ahead.
The fort was not far from the naval harbor. In fact, it stood on a small rise a few dozen meters high, right beside the port. They urged their horses into a trot and reached the fort in only a few minutes.
They dismounted in front of the fort's chevaux-de-frise. Cissé exchanged a few words with the sentry stationed there, handed him both horses, and then led Joseph into the fort.
The sentry obviously knew Cissé. But to let him bring someone else into the fort without even asking a question, just because he recognized him? No wonder the French Navy got trounced by the British in every way imaginable, Joseph couldn't help thinking.
Cissé led Joseph along a stone path, past the gun emplacements at the front and around a maple grove. A white, two-story building came into view.
"This is the fort's command center. Commander Villefort is inside," Cissé said to Joseph, then led him over.
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