Chasseur à Cheval (Napoleonic Horseman Book 1)

by Griff Hosker

  He threw down his sword and shouted, “Quarter!”

  “Corporal, check our wounded!” Charles ran off to give aid. “Sergeant Barriere, Secure the prisoners!”

  Pierre raced up with his men. He looked worried. “That was close.”

  I was puzzled, “What was close?”

  He rubbed his own cheek and pointed at me. “That was.”

  I rubbed my cheek and it came away black. That was how close I had come to death. Another inch and half of my face would have been blown away. “I survived. Check the wagons and see what we have.”

  Charles came back, “Five wounded, one, Trooper Ney is quite badly injured.” He shook his head.

  “Put him in one of the wagons and one of the lesser wounded to look after him.”

  Tiny rode up grinning. “Ten prisoners, five more wounded and the rest dead.”

  “Put five of them as drivers and tie the rest up. Sergeant, what do we have?”

  “Three wagons of muskets and two of ball. A good haul.”

  “The trick will be to get it back to Mantua.” I took out my map. “There should be a road heading south, through Goito. By my reckoning we are just twelve miles from Mantua.”

  Pierre peered over my shoulder at the map. “Yes sir but will there be a garrison at Goito?”

  That was the key question. “Take Charles and four men and scout it out.”

  “That will leave you short handed.”

  “The officer is dead and the sergeant lacked conviction. I will leave Tiny in charge of them. You know what he is like when you give him an order. He is like a dog with a bone. He won’t let go.”

  The Austrian cavalrymen were subdued as they rode in the wagons. A cavalryman is only happy when he is on a horse; anything else isn’t good enough. Tiny had the sergeant on a horse but tethered to his own. The trip to Naples had helped to mature Tiny. His strength was phenomenal and his attitude exemplary. I did not worry about him. The wagons would slow us down but we could still make the lines in two hours or so, well before dark. I rode to the wagon with the wounded inside. The trooper with Ney shook his head, “I don’t think Patrice will make it sir.”

  “Do your best for him Trooper Lannes. If it is his time then it is better to go with comrades around you.” I looked at his bandaged head. “And you?”

  “Just a knock with a sword sir but I did for him.”

  “Well done. Is Trooper Ney conscious?”

  “No sir. The sergeant gave him half a bottle of brandy and he went out like a light.” He opened Ney’s tunic; I could see where the sabre had ripped him open like a ripe melon. He would not survive.

  I heard a voice from the front. “Lieutenant Macgregor.” I always smiled when I was addressed as such. When my mother pronounced our name it had a rolling sound in the middle. The French missed it out all together and made it softer. I was used to the sound but it still made me smile.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s the sergeant and the patrol.”

  Pierre reined in. “There are half a dozen or so soldiers in the town but no garrison and no checkpoint. They look to be engineers with an escort.”

  “What do you think they are up to?”

  “I would guess they are sighting a redoubt for when we come through here. They are digging on the far side of the town close to the bridge.”

  I suddenly had an idea. “Then we ride through as though we own it. Corporal, bring the sergeant here.”

  Tiny tugged the sulky sergeant to the front of the column. “When we ride through the town, you two ride in front. I will be behind.” I looked at the sergeant and said, in Italian, which I hoped he would understand, “One false move from you and I will blow your back in two.” I showed him my horse pistol. “Understand?”

  His eyes widened in fear and he nodded.

  “Sergeant, you take your men to the rear. You can be the rearguard and watch to see that our prisoners don’t make a break for it.”

  The town itself was quite a pleasant little place. It nestled next to a river in a beautiful valley. As we descended into the town I could see the bridge which could be defended to prevent our army advancing. Had they had men on this side of the bridge then we would have had trouble. As it was our leisurely approach and the white Austrian uniform allayed their fears. I had six of my men load their muskets and ride behind me with the guns across their saddlecloths. They could be levelled in an instant.

  Tiny played his part brilliantly. He shouted, “Buongiorno!” cheerily to all the townspeople he saw. They must have thought his green uniform was that of a Neapolitan. It was a superb performance.

  As we approached the engineer and his workers they halted in their work and smiled at us. They asked the sergeant something and I pulled out my pistol and levelled it at them. My six troopers had their muskets levelled in an instant. My German was not good but “Hände hoch!” seemed to do the trick and they looked bemused as they raised their hands. We bundled them into the wagons and I took the plans the engineer had been clutching. They would provide good intelligence.

  We knew we were close to the siege works when we heard the crash of the general’s cannon. He was an artilleryman and, although he did not think he could break the siege through assault, he enjoyed the challenge of destroying its walls by gunfire.

  Captain Bessieres had now been promoted and was working as an assistant to the general. He seemed better suited to that role. He was delighted with both the wagons and the prisoners. When I gave him the plans he positively gushed. “This is just what the general needed. You have a bright future in this army Scotsman. You and I will go places with this mercurial general.”

  I didn’t like to upset him by saying I was happy where I was and so I just smiled and went back to the rest of the squadron. When I reached the camp I saw the sad faces and knew that Ney had died. This was the first of the men to die under me; it would not be the last but it did leave a scar. I wondered if I could have done anything to change events. When I told Jean of my doubts he shook his head. “Trooper Ney died because the man he was fighting was a better swordsman. The officer you killed died because you were the better swordsman. It is life. The men know that you did everything to stop them dying needlessly. We are good officers. Believe me there are much worse as I found out when I served.”

  “You mean like my father?”

  “He was not as bad as some.”

  “Then why did you leave the regiment to follow him.”

  “He saved my life. I would have died before you were born and so I followed him. Now I see that Fate determined this and I was meant to meet your mother and to help you.”

  “You loved my mother didn’t you?”

  “She was an easy woman to love but it was a pure love. She was honourable and even though your father did not marry her because you were their child she was loyal to him. I wish she had not been; she might still be alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If she had run off with me as I asked and taken you with us then she would not have suffered as she did.”

  “But I don’t understand. What could have been done to save her?”

  He became silent and then he put his hand on my shoulder. “I never told you but there was a letter for me from Madame Lefondre. She confirmed that Mama Tusson poisoned your mother. She was jealous.”

  I suddenly went cold. I felt my whole body become rigid. I became numb. Poisoned! “Why did you not tell me when you found out?”

  “The wounds of your mother’s death and the execution of your father were still raw. I thought you needed time. Besides you could do nothing about it. But now I see that you are a man and you can handle such things.”

  “I will kill the black witch!”

  He nodded. “I understand but she is quite powerful now. She has influence around Breteuil and has become the new count in all but name. If you kill her then you will become a hunted man and you will face the guillotine.”

  “It matters not. I will kill her.”
r />   He nodded, “Then I am honour bound to help you for the woman I loved.”

  We both knew that this would not happen soon but it was a promise we both made to each other. We did not speak of it again for we did not need to. It was an unspoken bond joining us together.

  The news that we brought turned out to be momentous. Jean and his patrol had captured Austrians too and the combined intelligence from the papers told the general that the Austrians were massing huge columns to the north of Verona and Breschia. He mobilised everyone. We were, once again, attached as scouts, to General Massena.

  We were assigned the left flank. There was a mighty gorge there and General Massena had placed some of his weaker battalions there to protect his flank. General Bonaparte had his main attack planned for north of Rivoli. I could see that we were just a small part of the larger battle. General Massena called the colonel over.

  “You only have a couple of squadrons and I cannot use you in my attack. Take your men on a sweep to my left and keep watch for the enemy.”

  As an instruction it was a little vague and more than a little insulting but Albert took it in good part. We rode well to the west to enable us to climb above the gorge. We twisted and turned around the hill called Monte Moscat. Claude and his section were at the front. The terrain meant that we could only ride in a column of twos and it was difficult to manoeuvre through the trees around the base of the hill. Suddenly, as we emerged from the trees I saw a huge column of dragoons below us and to our right. I shouted to the colonel, “Austrians colonel!” He turned as I pointed. The ground was rock strewn and totally unsuitable for cavalry. Albert Aristide had been a cavalryman all of his life and he did not panic.

  He turned to a trooper and sent him back the way we had come to warn General Massena of the danger. “Squadron dismount. Muskets!”

  The range was too great to be effective and we could only hope that we would distract them. As one man in four held the horses I led my section down the slope towards the dragoons. There were at least two regiments of horse and two of infantry. This was a major attack.

  “Get as close as you can otherwise we will be wasting ammunition.” It is not easy racing down a slope with cavalry boots and spurs. I saw at least three troopers take a tumble. The head of the column was almost level with us. The range was a hundred yards and that was probably too great for our musketoons but we had to do something. “Halt!” They all raised their weapons. “Fire!”

  My twenty four men fired as quickly as we could. Normally we only fired one volley and then engaged with swords but here we would have to be light infantry until the general could organise the defence. As I glanced down the valley towards Rivoli I saw that General Massena was organising cannons and infantry but we had to buy them more time. I fired so quickly that the barrel became hot. And then we were taking casualties as a company of light infantry detached itself from the column and began to make their way up the slope. These were real light infantry and not playing at it as we were. My young troopers began to die. I was grateful when I heard the boom of the cannon which told me that Massena had his defence prepared. The colonel sounded retreat and we began to fall back. I slung my musket and drew my sword. We ran back up the hill. A young Austrian ensign, who seemed keen for glory, raced eagerly after me. I heard his shout as he closed with me and turned, just in time to parry his sword. I had the advantage of the slope but, as I heard the musket balls fly around me, I knew that I did not have much time. The ensign was good but he had been taught to fence properly. As I parried one stroke I stepped in and head butted his nose. I heard it break and he dropped his guard. As I ended his young life I admired his bravery but not his reckless disregard for his life.

  I was one of the last up the slope and a volley from the quadroon sent the light infantry packing. “Mount! Captain Alain has found a way down from the slope. Follow me!”

  We all galloped after the colonel. It seemed odd to be riding away from our own men but I could see why he was doing it. We would be able to fall upon the rear of the column. It was the role Chasseur à cheval were made for. We halted above the Tasso River. We formed two lines and drew our swords. Claude had brought us out slightly behind the advancing Austrians.

  “Trot!”

  I had to hold Killer back for he was always eager to close with the enemy. My sword rested on my right shoulder. I glanced down the line. “Trooper Lannes, hold the line!” The trooper in question tugged back on his reins.

  “Gallop!”

  As Killer opened his legs the motion became easier; I hated the trot. The gallop was much easier for both man and horse.

  We were a hundred yards away when the colonel shouted, “Charge!” The bugle sounded and we all thrust our swords forwards as we gave our horses their heads. There was no way we could all stay together but it would not matter. The infantry had been taken completely by surprise. There may have been little more than a hundred attacking but the Austrians just saw a wall of horseflesh. One or two tried to fire their muskets but there was no coordination. A couple of sergeants tried to get their men to form a wall of bayonets but it was too late.

  I slashed down with my sword and cracked open first the shako and then the face of the musketeer. Killer trampled a second. I stabbed at the back of a fleeing soldier and felt the point penetrate jacket and then flesh. I saw a sergeant with a bayonet. I flicked the end of the musket away and leaned Killer into him so that he fell beneath the feet of Tiny’s horse following close behind. There were so many targets it was almost hard to choose. The river was looming up and the ones at the front were throwing themselves into it despite the fact that Massena’s light infantry were shooting them as they floundered in the water.

  When the recall sounded it was almost a disappointment. I saw two of my young troopers still going forwards. “Fall back!” My bellow carried to them and they reined in and joined me and the rest as we made our way back to the ridge we had left a few minutes earlier. Our horses walked across a carpet of corpses. I noticed that although we had lost few men there were dead troopers lying amongst the white uniforms of the enemy.

  When we made the ridge the colonel said, “Well done! Rest your horses we may be needed again soon.” He pointed to where the cannons of Massena were carving holes in the Austrian ranks. The dragoons would not be able to suffer that kind of bombardment for long. We would have to attack them as they retreated. I could see that all of my friends had survived. That was always the first thing we all did. The ones who had fallen were comrades but they were not friends.

  We heard the wail of the Austrian bugles and knew what it meant; they were falling back. As Massena’s men moved forwards many Austrians surrendered. The dragoons did not come back towards us but headed up the slope where their own men were standing in serried ranks waiting to attack.

  “Forwards!” We cantered down the hill after the dragoons. Our horses had had a rest and we were soon gaining on them. The dragoons had metal helmets but no breastplates. Their bare backs were easily pierced by our blades. As the men fell from the horses the dragoons’ mounts galloped even harder and there were no riders to guide them. As we thundered up the slope to the heights leading to Monte Baldo, the runaway mounts trampled through the waiting musketeers. Nor did the dragoons make allowances for their own countrymen and soon there were huge gaps in the Austrian lines. I glanced behind and saw that Joubert had launched our own dragoons and they were galloping after us on fresh mounts. As we reached the infantry we slowed down. Our horses were tired and we had crested the rise but there were many men for us to kill.

  Musketeers can stand against cavalry when in square and with a three deep bayonet tipped defence. These had neither and they were slaughtered. My arm grew tired from chopping and slashing. I felt more like a butcher than a cavalryman. I drew one of my pistols and fired left handed at the officer who loomed up at me from my left. Killer had stopped and I must have looked a tempting target. The Austrian’s face disappeared as my pistol took him at point blank range. />
  When the colonel sounded recall I was grateful. I had had enough of slaughter, and that is what this was. The musketeers were surrendering in their thousands. I sheathed my sword and took out my fresh pistol. I gestured for them to raise their hands. My mouth was so dry that I could not even say hands up in any language! Our own dragoons thundered past. They had not been riding all day up and down slopes. It was a day for cavalry. As we gathered the prisoners together wondering how we would guard so many we heard the thunder of hooves as Napoleon Bonaparte and his Guides galloped up.

  “Well done my chasseurs, Once again you perform like a brigade and not a squadron. I wish that I had another regiment like yours.”

  The colonel nodded, “Have we won general?”

  Napoleon laughed, “Of course! It was a close run thing for they attacked down the two gorges but your message bought us enough time and General Massena broke their backs as you broke their hearts.” He pointed down the slope. “The infantry will take care of these prisoners. Well done colonel.”

  Bessieres came over to speak with the colonel and shake his hand and the victorious general and his escorts continued their tour of the battlefield.

  I looked around and saw that Pierre, Tiny and Charles had survived. Claude waved from the opposite side of the prisoners as did Michael and Francois. Finally I heard Jean behind me. “You will have to learn when to leave the battlefield; I thought that young Austrian had you.”

  “He could fence Jean, he could not fight. We both know there is a difference. When I joined I could fence but, thank god, I have had the time to learn how to fight. The young Austrian didn’t. I think we need to teach our young troopers how to fight.”