Reincarnated as Napoleon



On the morning of May 21st, 1801, the city of Boulogne awoke under the gentle touch of sunlight that streamed through the window, coaxing Napoleon out of slumber. As his eyes gradually fluttered open, he found himself greeted by the kindly face of a maid who was in the process of drawing the heavy curtains aside. 

"Good morning, Your Excellency. It is now eight o'clock in the morning," the maid announced.

Before he went to sleep yesterday, he had told one of the maids working in the  Château de Boulogne-sur-Mer, his temporary residence, to wake him up at eight o'clock in the morning.

Napoleon acknowledged her with a nod and a quiet "Thank you," appreciative of her diligence. He stretched his limbs as he sat up, feeling the remnants of sleep dissipate in the morning air. 

As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his thoughts drifted to the day ahead. 

In four days, the Atlantic and Mediterranean Fleet will enter the English Channel. The invasion force of the French Republic must be ready before then.

'It is going to be a long day,' Napoleon thought to himself. 

Rising from the bed, he moved to the window, drawn by the view beyond. Boulogne lay before him, a bustling coastal city alive with the sounds of people going about their daily routines. 

The harbor was brimming with an array of vessels, from docked galleys and barges to gunboats, fore-and-aft rigged ships, paddle steamers, brigs, and balancelles. Each one had a role to play in the impending invasion.

In the distance, at the shore, he saw rows of soldiers conducting firing exercises using the bolt-action rifle that was used in Egypt. The instructors teaching the soldiers were the veterans who joined Napoleon in his campaign in Egypt and the Middle East. Not only bolt-action rifles are being practiced, but also machine guns, mortars, and howitzers.

Napoleon believed that having those weapons in the invasion would increase their chances of success. 

Nodding in satisfaction, Napoleon made his way out of his bedroom to prepare for the day. He took a bath and ate breakfast. After all of that, he made his way to the shores where there was a big military tent housing Napoleon's military staffers. 

As he approached, soldiers along the way saluted, and Napoleon returned the gesture by doing the same. Entering the tent, he saw a large table dominating the center of the space, covered with maps and documents. 

There were plenty of people inside, a lot of whom weren't familiar with him as it was his first time seeing them. But one particular individual stood out. 

"Berthier!" Napoleon called. 

His Minister of War, who was sitting behind a desk and sifting through the documents, looked up upon hearing his name. Recognition and respect flickered in his eyes as he rose from his seat.

"Your Excellency."

Napoleon stepped further into the tent, he took a glance at the document Berthier was holding and spoke.

"What are you working on?" 

"This?" Berthier responded, holding up the document. "This is the intelligence we've gathered about the British fortifications along the Romney Marsh. According to this, the British constructed Martello towers along the English coast."

Napoleon wasn't surprised by the news as he had expected the British would do that. The French, after all, had tried to invade Great Britain from Ireland, which failed miserably. The British, believing that the French could do it again, had decided to commission a defensive fortification along its coast that was closest to mainland France.

"Are those the only fortifications they constructed? What about the canal?" Napoleon asked.

"What canal?" Berthier tilted his head to the side, quizzically. 

Judging from Berthier's reaction, it seemed clear to Napoleon that the British hadn't yet constructed the Royal Military Canal as a defensive measure. While he was en route to Boulogne, Napoleon checked his system and looked up information about British defenses. One notable defense was the Royal Military Canal—a twenty-eight-kilometer-long waterway stretching between Seabrook near Folkestone and Cliff End near Hastings. It was built in 1804 as a defense against the potential invasion of England during the Napoleonic Wars. 

But this year, it's 1801. The British at this point in time were still in the stage of precautionary measures. French invasion wasn't imminent because they were fighting the Austrians. However, when the Austrians signed the Treaty of Luneville and the Russians declared war on Great Britain, that's when things started to get serious for the British.

Invasion was truly imminent and the idea of building a canal hadn't come up to their thoughts yet. Which is going to be convenient for Napoleon. Because if that canal was built, it would slow down movement, buying time for the British to reinforce their defenses. 

"All the more reason to attack now," Napoleon muttered under his breath.

"Uhm…Your Excellency? I didn't catch that?"

"I was just talking to myself, Berthier," Napoleon said as he looked around the tent. "Anyways, I thought I made it clear that all generals should be present in this tent at nine o'clock. Where are they?" 

"Your Excellency…it's still eight fifty-five," Berthier replied as he checked his timepiece. "I'm sure they'll be on time. Perhaps on their way here now."

As if to confirm Berthier's words, a figure entered the tent, drawing the attention of both Napoleon and Berthier.

"Your Excellency…you are already here," said the man respectfully. 

A smile spread across his lips as Napoleon recognized the man's appearance. It was Louis-Nicolas Davout, one of the Generals, that he had chosen to join him in the British invasion campaign. 

This was his first time seeing Davout even though he had served under him in Egypt as a cavalry brigade commander. He was just referred to in the list when he ordered Berthier to gather exceptional and talented individuals for the planned invasion.

"Davout was it? I believe that you are in command of Camp Bruges. How are the soldiers faring?"

Davout gave a brisk nod. "Yes, Your Excellency. The soldiers are undergoing rigorous training. They are adapting well to the new weapons and tactics."

Napoleon's gaze swept over Davout, evaluating his demeanor and response. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded approvingly. 

"Good. You may take your seat as we wait for the other generals to arrive," Napoleon said, gesturing toward the empty chairs around the table.

Davout promptly found a seat and settled in.

As minutes flew by, the tent steadily filled with the other generals – Bernadotte, Marmont, Soult, Lannes, Ney, Augereau, Moreau, Bessieres, and Murat. Greetings were exchanged in low tones, punctuated by nods of acknowledgment towards Napoleon.

The generals settled into their respective chairs, and Napoleon took the head of the table. 

"Now that we are all here, let us discuss our plan for the great invasion of Great Britain."