The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 865: Chapter 7 Louis Bonaparte’s Ambition

As the sunlight gently poured over the surface of the English Channel, a steam ferry decorated with ornate flags slowly departed from the Port of Dover, heading toward the other end of the English Channel—Calais, France.

The passengers on the ship, some for business, some for adventure, and others seeking a romantic journey, carried their own stories and expectations as they embarked on a voyage to foreign lands.

The bright sunshine and blue skies inevitably painted a layer of joy on people’s moods.

On the deck, several young ladies walked arm in arm, talking and laughing softly, their skirts gently swaying with the breeze.

A gentleman took out his sketch pad, attempting to capture the serene sea and distant sailboats.

Children, under the watchful eyes of their parents, curiously observed the flying seagulls by the ship’s side, sometimes running quickly on the deck alongside the birds, exclaiming in awe.

Compared to modern ferries, the ferry of 1832, although relatively primitive in facilities, still had cabins divided into different classes based on ticket prices.

First-class cabins usually provided more comfortable beds and basic dining services, while second and third-class cabins were more austere. The public areas on the ship included a small dining room and lounge for passengers to dine and socialize.

Although Britain was already in the throes of the Industrial Revolution, for the average family, such a cross-channel journey remained an extremely extravagant expense.

Hence, on this ferry, most of the passengers were businessmen, scholars, or officials on business like Sir Arthur Hastings. As for the remaining passengers, they were young men who had just completed their university education and were about to embark on the traditional Grand Tour of Europe.

Needless to say, families with the financial means to let their sons indulge in sumptuous food across Europe and splurge on art pieces were mostly graduates of Oxford or Cambridge. Of course, occasionally one would encounter a few graduates from Glasgow or Edinburgh.

In the dining room within the cabin, merchants sat around a round table, discussing their respective businesses. The smoke from their cigars intertwined with the sea breeze outside the window. A taciturn traveler sat alone in a corner sipping tea, holding a yellowed map of Europe, his eyes gleaming with a longing for the unknown world.

As time passed, the sunlight grew hotter, and the sea surface sparkled with golden light. Passengers began to feel the heat and sought shade to cool off. Some chose to stay in the ship’s lounge, where fans gently blew, bringing a slight coolness.

The shelves in the lounge were filled with various books for passengers to read. A young poet immersed himself in his creation, his pen fluttering over the paper, recording his praises for the sea.

Among the passengers, there were a few gentlemen who looked rather intimidating: one was a chubby man with a puff of hair, a cigar in his mouth, and another was a young man with a gloomy expression, a seal beard, and a rapier strapped to his waist.

As for the remaining one, though he didn’t look as dangerous as the other two, it was clear to the discerning eye that this young man with a kindly smile and a deck of cards in his hand held the highest status among the three.

Arthur played a pair of threes and raised his eyebrows at his friend: “Louis, it’s your turn. You seem a bit off today. Could it be that as we’re getting closer to France, you’re starting to feel nostalgic and nervous?”

Great Dumas took a puff of his cigar and blew out thick smoke: “Louis, don’t worry. From what I know of Louis Philippe, he won’t do anything to you. He’s always been good at such formalities.”

Louis glanced at his two friends, raised his glass, and drank gloomily: “Alexander, are you really familiar with Louis Philippe?”

Great Dumas nodded: “Of course, I know him better than anyone. When he was still Duke of Orleans, I worked as a copyist in his secretariat for a few years. Later, I made a name for myself in theater and resigned from that job. Louis Philippe even sent someone to congratulate me and gave me some small gifts as a token.”

Louis raised his eyebrows and asked: “From what you say, Louis Philippe seems to be quite a good man. So why do you criticize him every day?”

“That’s different.”

Great Dumas replied: “If you’re talking about personal interactions, then Louis Philippe is undoubtedly an excellent friend—generous and understanding of others’ difficulties in most situations. But this doesn’t mean that it’s his natural disposition. To put it bluntly, he knows how to use small favors to win people’s hearts and manipulate their opinions to solidify his position and gain a good reputation. In some ways, he’s more like a British politician than a French political conspirator.”

Saying this, Great Dumas couldn’t help but tease Arthur: “What does our Sir Arthur Hastings always say? Seeking balance in compromise, then sitting firmly on two chairs of different heights. Louis Philippe is very adept at this British traditional art.”

Arthur ignored Great Dumas’s sarcasm, gathered up the cards in his hand, and spoke.