by Griff Hosker
He insisted on inspecting us. We stood next to our horses. He seemed a little wary of them. When he reached me the colonel introduced me as the trooper who had ordered the fleet to surrender. He was impressed but then said. “He is a little young is he not?”
The colonel gave a cough and said, “Bravery does not come from age General Bonaparte, it comes from the heart.”
“Quite so; and your name, Macgregor, it is not French?”
I answered, “No, General Bonaparte, my mother’s family came from Scotland.”
“Ah so you can speak English?”
“Yes sir.”
The general turned to his secretary, “Make a note of that it may come in useful.” He looked up at Killer. “A fine looking horse. What is his name?”
“Killer.”
He looked surprised, “You gave him that name? Why?”
I smiled and spread my arms, “The men named him that as a joke. None of them could ride him and they gave him to me to see if he would throw me.”
“Did he?”
“No, sir.”
He laughed. “I like your spirit. When I was a cadet they tried all sorts of tricks me with. They learned that I am not a man to be trifled with. You will go far in this army.”
Pierre made fun of me for the next couple of days. As he said, “Hobnobbing with the generals eh! Whatever next? Captain Macgregor perhaps?”
I think he was a little jealous of the interest shown in me by the general. Little did I know, at the time, the effect it would have on my life.
Bonaparte was even more famous than us and the crowds lined the small fishing villages we passed through. He was the hero of Toulon; the man who had sent the British passing. Once we reached Nice I saw that he had been planning this invasion for some time. There were camps set up all around the fishing village. There were hundreds of infantry. I counted twenty battalions. There were just a squadron of dragoons, the 5th, as well as the artillery so beloved of our little general. I had no idea what to expect for the cannons were small calibre and mountain guns. The infantry looked as though they could manage without the help of a regiment of chasseurs.
As soon as we arrived, we received news which made Napoleon explode with anger. A French brigade had been defeated by the Austrians in Voltri which was just along the coast. Jean, who was briefed by the colonel, told us that the general was annoyed that the French had been caught by a much larger force of Austrians. He did not blame the colonel of the brigade but the lack of scout cavalry which would have warned the infantry of the presence of an enemy. As soon as Jean told us that I knew what our role would be.
The next day we were divided into our eight troops and sent to find the enemy. Our orders from the colonel were quite clear; we had to keep headquarters informed of events as they changed and yet not lose touch with the ones we were shadowing. I was glad that I was with Jean. He seemed to know what he was doing. Claude was still recovering from his wound and stayed at headquarters with the colonel. Pierre was more than happy about that arrangement. “We will get the best billets my friend. Claude will see to that. This will be simple. Find the enemy, tell the general and then sit by the sea drinking wine.”
He had a hard lesson to learn, for the general in question liked headquarters to be wherever he was. Normally that was just ten miles from where we were. Claude and the colonel had a much harder job than we did.
Our sector to patrol was in the mountains. The whole regiment used the coast road to reach it riding quickly through Monaco, now in our hands, Menton and Ventimiglia and the other smaller coastal towns of the Gulf of Genoa. Once we reached San Remo, Jean led us north east towards the high mountain passes. I was not sure of the geography of the land and I could not see much reason to fight for it. I turned to the lieutenant, “I mean, sir, it isn’t as though there is a big river bringing a lot of trade down here. They are tiny villages and hamlets of a few houses. It is a waste of time.”
“When we stop I will show you the map, young Robbie and then you will see. Next time look at the maps before we leave. If Pierre or I are killed then you will be in charge. Think on that.”
It was a rebuke and a well deserved one. I hadn’t done enough preparation. I was responsible for the lives of others. That morning in April, riding along the narrow mountain roads I began to change.
Badalucco was a small collection of six houses some ten miles from San Remo. We halted there to allow the horses to drink. I joined Pierre and Jean around the map. “The general needs to strike at the northern heart of Italy. That is Milan. At the same time, if we can force a way over the mountain passes of the Tyrol then we can close with Vienna. The problem he has is that the enemy can block his route at any of these narrow places.” He pointed to some key towns which lay ahead of us. “We have to find out which ones are unguarded and then he can use those.”
“What if they are guarded, sir?”
“Then we try to winkle out the enemy and send for help.”
I looked at the troopers all taking advantage of the rest to eat, dink and stretch their legs. “But we haven’t even got a full troop. There are just fifty of us.”
Pierre smiled, “Then, my friend the forty nine will have to do the job while someone goes for help.”
I smiled, “Yes I see that sergeant but we are horsemen.”
“Ah the horse. You notice Robbie, that on the horse you have a pistol and a musket. We will get off the horses and fight on foot.”
Jean spoke to me slowly as though I was an imbecile. He was right; I was behaving like a fool. “Sorry sir and the next chance I get I am going to fill my second holster with another gun.”
“That’s better. Now you are thinking like a soldier.”
The column headed off. We were now under Bonaparte’s orders and that meant living off the land where we could. We had our blankets with us; hopefully we would find a building in which to shelter. The April nights were cold in the mountains.
Jean stopped us when we were above the town of Altara. It was one of the bigger towns we had seen and it nestled next to the river beneath the mountains. We were in the tree line just off the road which meant we could see but not be seen. Our green uniforms came in handy again. Jean gestured me forwards. “Robbie, take five men and work your way down to the outskirts of the town. I can’t see any flags but this looks to be big enough to have a garrison of some description.” He pointed to the church tower. “If the town is clear then wave from the top of the tower.”
“And if it is not clear?”
“Then get back here. Choose your own men.”
I was pleased about that. There were some of the men I trusted implicitly and we had worked together well before. “Jean-Michel, Guillame, Francois, Charles and Richard, come with me.” We made our way through the trees which bordered the road. I remembered the ambush in the Netherlands. “Make sure your pistol is primed.”
There were still pockets of snow in the trees but Killer was sure footed and we negotiated the slope easily. I could smell the town before I saw it. There was a smell of wood smoke and cows. I held up my hand to stop the others and I moved forwards to peer through the thinning trees. I could see the buildings and the people. It looked to be a farming community but at this end of the town there was a slaughterhouse which explained the smell of cows. I could see that we would be hidden from the road if we rode around the rear of it.
I took out my pistol and led them across the open ground and then behind the building. Any noise from our hooves was masked by the sound of the animals in the abattoir and the noise and chatter of the workers. There was an old barn and we rode into it. “Charles, keep watch. The rest of you dismount.”
I had decided that riding the horses around the town would make us more visible. I replaced my pistol in my holster and began to load my musketoon. “We will take the muskets. Trooper Blanc, you guard the horses. If you hear firing then we might have to leave in a hurry.”
I located the church tower as we left the barn and heade
d for the centre of the small town. It was important that we were not seen. This was Piedmont and there were no French troops ahead of us. Any soldiers we saw would be the enemy. I peered around the corner close to the main square. It was not a large town but it had a square with a statue in it. I suddenly saw uniforms. They were neither blue nor green. They were an enemy. I could have returned with the news of our find there and then but I felt responsible. Who were they and how many of them?
“Have your weapons ready but do not fire unless we have to.”
I decided that boldness would be the best tactic. We stepped into the street and walked purposefully towards the square. I was assessing the soldiers as I walked up. There were eight of them that I could see. They appeared to have swords and bayonets only. They were smoking pipes and cigars and were drinking outside the small inn. The uniforms suggested infantry or artillery as they had neither pelisse nor dolman. That worked in our favour; it meant that we could outrun them on our horses if we had to. As we neared them one of them glanced around and saw us. He did not react straightaway, which allowed us to close a couple more steps. Then he did and he crashed his chair to the floor as he leapt to his feet. He grabbed his sword and I fired the musket from waist height. They were only thirty yards from us and I knew that I could not miss. The others all fired at the same time and I drew my sword and raced towards the survivors.
There was pandemonium as people ran for cover. One officer raced towards me with his sword aloft. I still held my musket in my left hand and I blocked his sword thrust and stabbed him with my sword. It went right through him carried there by our joint momentum. I withdrew the blade. As the others arrived I could see that, as Francois despatched the last man, we had eliminated them. There were no survivors which meant that we had no prisoners to take back. “Jean-Michel, get the horses. The rest of you reload.”
I searched the six men and took any papers I could. They appeared to be written in Italian, which I could not read, and I pocketed them. Remembering my own sword I said, “If there are any nice swords you might want one.” They retrieved the weapons which were all better than ours.
Francois found money which he jingled. He grinned, “We’ll share this later.”
When the horses arrived we mounted. “We have made enough noise to waken any more soldiers. Let’s ride through the town to see if these had any comrades and then send the signal to the lieutenant.”
The whole place was like a ghost town as people cowered in their homes and we rode through empty streets. We found their horses in a stable. The stable owner looked petrified. Trooper Blanc spoke a little of the local language and he calmed the man down. It confirmed what I had deduced. These were officers out for a little pleasure which meant there was a regiment, at least, close by. We rode back to the church with the horses in tow. I was about to race up to the top of the tower when I heard the clattering of hooves. Our hands went to our guns but we relaxed when we saw it was the rest of the troop.
Jean shook his head, “We heard the firing. What happened to the orders? You were supposed to return if it was occupied.”
“It wasn’t occupied. There were just a handful of them. Besides it all happened too quickly to do anything else.”
“One day you will push your luck a little too far you know!”
Chapter 6
One effect of our sudden action was that the people of the town were more than happy to accommodate us. Jean made sure that we paid for everything. The fact that it was Austrian money we used was irrelevant. He sent a messenger back to the colonel and we enjoyed a night under shelter having eaten and drunk well. My little squad were delighted. They all had a decent sword and we had sold the other three and shared the profits. I was the favourite Brigadier in the troop.
Pierre gave me a sour look. “You could have saved one for me.”
“You know the way it works sergeant. The men who are there when we capture things share in the profits. You could have bought one. Francois would have done a good deal with you.”
“If you think I am spending my hard earned money…”
I laughed, “Then you had better ask to be the next leader of the scouts. I was just in the right place at the right time.”
Pierre did lead the next patrol but it brought him nothing. He found where the Austrians had travelled from, Montenotte. “Sir, there look to be about ten thousand men there. They have artillery but no cavalry.”
“Well done.” After he had sent a messenger back to the general we took the whole troop to watch the town and to make sure that we knew their dispositions well.
Captain Bessières brought the rest of the regiment up. I was close by Jean when he arrived and overheard their conversation between Captain Bessières and Captain Aristide. “The colonel is not well. The general advised him to stay at headquarters. I am to command until he returns to service.”
Captain Bessières had recently transferred to us from the 18th Chasseurs which had been disbanded. I had little to do with him as Captain Aristide commanded our troop and squadron. The newcomer seemed affable enough. He was younger than Jean but then almost all of the officers were. “We have been ordered to the other side of the town to prevent the enemy escaping.”
Albert had served with the colonel for many years. “I hope he is receiving medical help.”
“He is. The general’s own doctor is seeing to him.”
“He has his own doctor?”
“But of course. General Bonaparte is an important man. It is rumoured they are selecting horsemen to be his personal escort to replace us. “I could tell from his words that the captain hoped to be one of them. For myself I wanted to get back to doing what we had been doing.
Captain Bessières took out a map. “Captain Aristide, take your squadron and cover this road which leads to Milano. I will take the rest and prevent them reaching Genoa.”
Getting around the town was easier said than done. If we took the main road we would struggle to pass by the town without being seen and fired upon. I was new to war but even I knew that it was imperative that the general achieve surprise. Jean pointed to the map. “Sir, if we head north, here, then we can travel up to this road and approach from the other side. It will add five miles to our journey but…”
“But we will achieve surprise. Good. Your troop can lead.” With so many soldiers around we saw few signs of life. Every farmhouse we passed was shuttered although the tendrils of smoke from their chimneys showed that there were people within.
“Robbie, take Tiny and scout out the road ahead.”
I gestured at the seventeen year old recruit who had recently joined us. He was the youngest trooper we had and I suspect that Jean was giving me the chance to get to know him and to train him at the same time. He was as tall as me and I wondered at the use of a nickname.
“How come they call you Tiny? What is your real name?”
He looked embarrassed. “My father served the old king and he named me Louis. He was killed a year after I was born. Mother thought that Louis was not a good name in light of the Revolution. She said to use my nickname. ” He shrugged, “And I am a big lad so…”
“I understand. Well Louis, when you are scouting you need to keep both eyes watching. Look for movement. It could be a bush or a branch or even something which you only half see. Trust your instincts. If you think you have seen something then look carefully. We are lucky, most of the soldiers who fight us wear bright uniforms and find it hard to hide but in these mountains they have Jaegers who wear green. This is their home so watch out for them.”
He nodded and we rode until we came to the road junction. We took the right side and circled the small mountain to our right. Its slopes were covered in small scrubby trees. They would stop an avalanche in winter but, fortunately for us, would afford no enemy a place to hide. As we reached the other side we saw the town and the valley below us. The road ran along a small ridge and would afford us a good view of the town and the battle.
“Let us find some co
ver. We may not be against the skyline but Killer is a little too black against the hills.”
As we waited for the rest of the squadron I asked, “Have you loaded your gun yet?”
“I thought the ball would fall out as we rode?”
“Not if you make sure you ram it down well. You don’t prime it but that it the matter of a moment.” As he took out a ball from his cartridge pouch I said, “Try to use a round ball. The first shot is the only one you are likely to aim so you might as well make sure it is a good shot.” I smiled to myself as he earnestly followed my advice. It was the same advice given to me by Jean some ten years earlier with my father impatiently drumming his fingers on his own weapon as he waited to fire.
We heard the drumming of hooves as Albert brought the rest of the squadron to join us. “Lieutenant Bartiaux’s troop, dismount. One in four men to act as horse holders. Form a skirmish line there.” He pointed to the wall which abutted the road. There was a steep drop the other side and was obviously intended to prevent animals from falling. The captain sent half of his troop to the other side of the road leading from the town so that we had crossfire. He retained half of his troop mounted in case they were needed. When you had twenty years experience of the cavalry such things were second nature. When Captain Aristide was in command you knew that every contingency was catered for.
Suddenly Jean-Michael pointed as he shouted, “Look sir. The infantry, they are advancing.”
We could see the battle unfolding before us. Our general was outnumbered but I suspected that he would not worry about that. We heard the bugles and could see the Austrian regiments racing to form three deep lines before the town. From our lofty position we could see that the cannons were behind the walls and would fire over the heads of the regiments before them. There were also battalions behind the wall. I hoped the general knew his business.