Calais Battery (1)

That summer, Napoleon successfully passed his graduation exams and graduated from the military academy as he had wished. He was assigned to the Raphael Legion and received the rank of second lieutenant of 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 hanging at his waist, looking exceptionally spirited; if not for his slightly short stature, he would have truly appeared quite imposing.

"You look a bit like an officer now," Joseph said, reaching out to pat Napoleon on the shoulder. "Work hard and become a general soon."

"What is so good about being a general in France?" Napoleon whispered.

"Don't say things like that in front of others," Joseph said. "Work hard in the army and hone your real skills; they will be useful no matter what you do in the future."

After seeing Napoleon off and returning to the school, Joseph had just sat down at his desk and hadn't even had time to brew a cup of coffee when he saw Will, the principal's secretary, walk in.

"Mr. Bonaparte, the principal would like to see you," Will said.

Joseph hurriedly stood up and followed Will toward the two-story building occupied solely by the principal.

"Will, what does the principal want with me?" Joseph asked as they walked along the path by the flower beds toward the small building.

"It seems to be something regarding an engineering project. I'm not entirely sure of the details, but you'll know once you see the principal," Will replied.

As they spoke, the two entered Count Dupont's building. A servant wearing a wig opened the door for them and took the hat Joseph handed over, saying, "Mr. Bonaparte, the Count is waiting for you in his office upstairs. Please follow me."

Joseph followed the servant up to the second floor and into Count Dupont's office. The servant then withdrew.

"Ah, Mr. Bonaparte, you've arrived," Count Dupont said.

"Principal, did you call for me?" Joseph asked.

"Yes, regarding some engineering matters. Hmm... have you ever been to Calais? The place famous for its lace?" Count Dupont asked suddenly.

"No," Joseph replied.

"Oh, among the provincial cities, Calais is quite decent. It's a very nice place to take one or several little lovers for a vacation. However, I am not mentioning Calais to you for that reason, but because of a military mission. Are you willing to go?" Count Dupont asked with a smile.

"I am willing to serve the country," Joseph said hurriedly. "May I ask what the matter is?"

"It is nothing much. The battery at the port of Calais is too old and no longer fit for use. Therefore, a new battery is needed to defend the port. Building this new battery requires a mathematical consultant. This task should have been arranged for Mr. Monge, but he has other urgent matters, so he recommended you. Joseph—I hope you don't mind me calling you that?"

"Of course, that is no problem," Joseph said hurriedly.

"Hmm, Joseph," Count Dupont said, "the school's salary is actually quite limited. It's enough to keep you from starving, but it's not easy to live a good life on it alone. Executing tasks like this, while tiring, provides quite a good income. After a few such missions, you can save up a small fortune. Look at Monge; his salary is only slightly higher than yours, but thanks to these types of tasks, his income is at least six or seven times yours."

Joseph knew that Monge recommending him for this task was certainly because he was too busy to handle it himself, but the intention to look after him was also quite obvious. He said gratefully, "Thank you, Principal."

"Why thank me? You should thank Mr. Monge more," Count Dupont laughed. "Of course, Monge is a bit old-fashioned. If you try to give him a gift, he might even feel you are insulting his character..." Having said this, Count Dupont shook his head again. "If you want to thank him, it is best to send him an innovative paper. Hmm, as you go to serve as a mathematical consultant this time, both I and Monge hope you can take this opportunity to advance further in your academics. Hmm, although the matter there is not particularly urgent, if you have nothing else to do, please arrange your current work and report to Calais as soon as possible."

Joseph knew this was essentially the Chinese equivalent of "seeing a guest out," so he thanked Count Dupont again and withdrew. Since the semester was almost over, he had basically nothing on his hands. Therefore, after handling a few minor things, three days later, he took the letter of introduction signed by Count Dupont, boarded a coach, and headed for Calais.

In later generations, there is a high-speed Eurostar train connecting Paris and Calais, and it takes less than an hour to get from Paris to Calais. But in this era, there was no such luxury. It took Joseph two full days to arrive in Calais near dusk.

Because it was already very late, Joseph did not go directly to the naval camp at the port of Calais. At this hour, there would likely be no one there to receive him. So, he found a very ordinary inn near the port to stay in. After battling bedbugs all night, he left the inn at the first light of day, determined never to stay in such a cheap hotel again.

Walking along the stone-paved streets, Joseph headed toward the port.

The port of Calais was divided into two parts. On one side was the noisy civilian wharf, where quite a few fluyts and other ships were docked along several piers. Although it was still early, one could already see sailors scrubbing the decks. On the other side was the French Navy's military wharf. The scale of the military wharf at Calais was much smaller than the civilian one; there was only one pier, and docked alongside it were only a single-deck frigate and a patrol boat with only two masts. The main force of the French Navy had always been in the Mediterranean, and Calais was too close to England—standing on the high ground by the shore and looking west, if the weather was clear, one could even see the white cliffs stretching along the opposite side of the port of Dover. The straight-line distance from Calais to the British naval port of Dover was only about thirty kilometers. The French Navy likely felt that if they stationed their main force here, it would always be a worry whether they might one day be blockaded in the port by the British Navy. Therefore, they never stationed their main force here. Perhaps based on the same consideration, the British never deployed their main fleet in Dover either.

Joseph walked toward the military wharf. He arrived at the gate blocked by a cheval-de-frise.

"Stop! Military restricted area, do not approach!" a red-nosed sentry shouted at him, then walked toward Joseph carrying a flintlock musket with a bayonet.

"I am Joseph Bonaparte, a mathematics teacher at the Paris Military Academy. I am under orders to report to Commander Villefort." As Joseph spoke, he took out the letter of introduction and handed it over.

The sentry shifted his rifle to his left hand, took the letter with his right, glanced at the cover, then looked up at Joseph and said, "Sir, please wait here for a moment."

After saying this, he turned and walked into the gate with the letter. He gave a few instructions to another sentry and then walked toward a small building nearby.

Joseph stood outside the gate waiting. After a while, he saw the sentry walking over with a captain.

The captain said to Joseph, "Mr. Bonaparte, I am Navy Captain Cissé. Commander Villefort is not at the port right now; he is at the fortress on the hill over there. I can send someone to take you there."

"Then I shall trouble you," Joseph replied.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?" Captain Cissé asked.

"A little," Joseph replied.

"That's good," Cissé said. He turned to the sentry and said, "Pierre, go fetch two horses for us."

The sentry acknowledged and left, and Cissé began chatting with Joseph.

"Is there really such a young mathematics teacher at the Paris Military Academy now?" Cissé said.

"Mr. Monge was also very young when he first made a name for himself," Joseph replied.

"Ah, yes, geniuses are all like that," Cissé said. "Hmm, looking at your name, are your ancestors Italian?"

"I am Corsican," Joseph replied. "You could say I'm half Italian."

"In my grandfather's generation, we were still Italian. However, our family has been in France for three generations. Hmm, I can barely speak Italian anymore," Cissé said. "I heard the Corsican dialect is very close to Italian?"

"It is indeed very close; in a sense, the Corsican dialect should even be considered a dialect of Italian..."

As the two were talking, the sentry Pierre had already led two horses over.

These were two ordinary military horses; the navy only needed horses for commuting and pulling, not warhorses for charging into battle.

Cissé handed the reins of a gray-white mare to Joseph and said, "Mr. Bonaparte, follow me; I will slow down."

Joseph thanked him, took the reins, and vaulted onto the horse. Cissé stood to the side, seemingly prepared to help Joseph if necessary. Seeing Joseph mount the horse cleanly and efficiently, he nodded, mounted his own horse, and then spurred it forward, taking the lead.

The fortress was actually not far from the naval port; in fact, it was on a small hill a few dozen meters high right next to the port. The two rode their horses at a trot for only a few minutes before reaching the fortress.

Dismounting before the cheval-de-frise of the fortress, Cissé said a few words to the sentry in front, handed the two horses to him, and then led Joseph into the fortress.

The sentry recognizing Cissé is a given. But just because he recognizes him, he lets him bring another person into the fortress without even asking—the discipline of the French Navy is... no wonder they get beaten by the British in every possible way, Joseph couldn't help but think.

Cissé led Joseph along a stone path, bypassing the frontal gun emplacements, and then around a maple forest until a white two-story building appeared before them.

"This is the fortress headquarters; Commander Villefort is here," Cissé said to Joseph, then led him toward it.