Reincarnated as Napoleon

Chapter 227 A Visitor from the Carribean

In the year 1801, on the island of Saint-Domingue, a figure of significant historical importance was about to step onto the stage. This man's name was Toussaint Louverture. Born in 1743, Louverture emerged from humble beginnings as the son of enslaved Africans. The island he called home was a prized colony, producing vast amounts of sugar, coffee, and indigo for the European powers.

Early on, Toussaint displayed qualities that set him apart. He learned to read and write, a rarity for a slave and showed an aptitude for strategy and leadership. As tensions brewed between various factions—the white plantation owners, free people of color, and the enslaved Africans—Toussaint's abilities became all the more crucial.

In 1791, a widespread revolt erupted among the enslaved population, setting the stage for radical changes in Saint-Domingue. Amidst the chaos, Toussaint navigated a complex path. He initially aligned with the Spanish against the French, seeking freedom for his people. But as political tides shifted, he switched sides, joining forces with the French Revolutionary government in 1794.

As Saint-Domingue became a battleground for conflicting interests, Toussaint's role continued to evolve. By 1801, he had risen to become the de facto ruler of the island, wielding considerable influence. His leadership brought a degree of stability, and he worked to reshape the plantation-based economy, striving to better the lives of the formerly enslaved.

To make sure that Saint-Domingue will have a better future, he has to meet the person currently ruling the French Republic, one who rose from humble beginnings like him. Napoleon Bonaparte.

He wanted to legitimize his rule over Saint-Domingue, and the only way he could get it was through diplomacy.

As his carriage made its way to Versailles, Toussaint observed the remarkable changes unfolding in the city. Poles with unfamiliar black cables hung overhead, and he caught sight of a peculiar contraption moving down the street, carrying people without the aid of horses. Everything around him appeared foreign and astounding.

After around twenty minutes, the carriage pulled up at the Palace of Versailles. Coming to a stop by the entrance, guards promptly approached the carriage, their uniforms stark against the grandeur of the palace.

"Identification and appointment letter," one of the guards demanded, rapping on the window of the carriage.

Toussaint lowered the window, passing his identification and appointment letter to the waiting guard. The guard scrutinized the documents before nodding in acknowledgment.

The carriage entered the palace grounds and made its way to the main entrance. As Toussaint stepped out of the carriage, his eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight of the grand facade of the Palace of Versailles. The intricate architecture, the ornate decorations, and the sheer scale of the palace left him momentarily speechless. It was a sight, unlike anything he had ever seen.

Toussaint's gaze traced the elegant lines of the palace, his mind trying to comprehend the magnitude of the place. He couldn't help but reflect on his journey—from being born into slavery to standing in front of one of the most opulent palaces in the world.

Then, the carriage came to a stop, and Toussaint emerged from it. As he did, a middle-aged man approached him with a formal demeanor.

"Good afternoon, sir. My name is Beaumont, the butler of this palace," the man introduced himself with a slight bow. "Allow me to escort you to the halls of mirrors where the First Consul is waiting."

Toussaint nodded, his mind still partially captivated by the splendor of the palace's exterior. He followed Beaumont through the hallways, the intricate decorations and grandeur of the interior continuing to amaze him. The halls seemed to stretch on forever, a testament to the immense scale of the palace.

Beaumont's steps led them to the famed Hall of Mirrors. The room was a symphony of opulence, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, ornate mirrors reflecting the grandeur, and gold accents shimmering in the light. The scene was almost overwhelming to Toussaint.

Inside the Hall of Mirrors, there were French soldiers standing on either side of the walls in attention, and at the end of the hall, he saw a figure standing behind a table filled with confectioneries and wines.

It was Napoleon Bonaparte, the leader of the French Republic. Standing behind Napoleon were his generals, he could tell because of their uniform. However, to his shock, he didn't expect that there'd be a black man standing there. Who was it? He wondered.

"Oh, Toussaint Louverture," Napoleon said as he sliced a velvet cake and placed a piece on his plate. "Please, come closer."

Toussaint approached the table, his senses overwhelmed by the lavishness of the surroundings.

Toussaint stopped 3 meters away from the table and he watched as Napoleon was busy helping himself with the confectionaries. He grabbed a macaroon and placed it on his plate before walking around and heading towards him.

"Do you like cake, Toussaint?" Napoleon asked with a faint smile as he gestured toward the array of sweets.

Toussaint nodded respectfully, his eyes briefly flickering to the cake. "Indeed, Your Excellency."

Napoleon chuckled softly and handed him a plate containing a slice of velvet cake and macaroon.

Toussaint accepted the plate from Napoleon, the cake and the macaroon looked delicious but he hesitated to eat it.

"What's the matter?" Napoleon asked as he grabbed his own plate. "I thought you like cake."

"I do, Your Excellency, but is it okay for me to eat it now?" Toussaint asked as he didn't want to appear rude or offensive in any way.

Napoleon chuckled again. "Of course, Toussaint. Please, enjoy. There's no need for formality here."

Toussaint nodded appreciatively and finally took a cautious bite of the velvet cake. The flavors exploded on his palate, a perfect blend of sweetness and richness that he had never tasted before. He savored the moment, letting the taste linger before taking another bite.

"Is it delicious?" Napoleon asked.

"It is, Your Excellency," Toussaint nodded his head in confirmation.

"Great, my wife made it herself just for this occasion. It's sad that you couldn't meet her because she has work to do," Napoleon said.

Toussaint smiled warmly. "I am honored by her efforts, Your Excellency.

Napoleon took a bite of his own cake and he moaned. "Oh my god, she truly makes the best of cakes."

He sat his plate down and his expression shifted from casual to serious.

"Okay, let's start discussing why you are here, Toussaint Louverture."