Young Bloods

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘You all right, Colonel?’ One of the volunteers reached down and hauled Napoleon to his feet.

  He tried to answer but was still short of breath and nodded instead. ‘Get . . . forward,’ he managed to gasp.

  The volunteer nodded and charged on, disappearing inside one of the doors hanging open beneath the walls of the fort. Napoleon leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees and struggled to recover his breath as more of his men charged by and flooded the fort with blue uniforms. But the fight was already over. Those Sardinians who had managed to answer the call to arms were all dead or wounded, and the rest had surrendered or had gone to ground in their quarters. It took a moment for the men of the Ajaccio battalion to realise they had won, and that the fort was theirs. The fire that had burned in their veins subsided, and the grim expressions on their faces slowly melted into relief and then the brief euphoria of having fought and won. A cheer ripped from their throats and the men waved their hats and muskets in the air as the sun blinked over the far wall of the fort.

  Napoleon indulged them for a moment before he strode across the courtyard to Alessi and beckoned to the other officers to join him. He gave orders for the prisoners to be held in their barracks, their wounded to be treated with the four Corsicans who had been injured in the assault, and then he sent a runner back to the beach to inform Colonel Colonna that the fort was in their hands and that the unloading of the eighteen-pounders could begin.

  Two companies of men were sent back to help drag the long guns up to the fort and another company was set to work repairing the gate and strengthening the eastern wall of the fort with timbers torn out of the fort’s storeroom to bear the weight of the eighteen-pounders. Then Napoleon climbed to the wall that overlooked the stretch of sea towards the island of Caprera. In between the two islands was a small rock on which a watchtower had been erected to maintain complete surveillance over the channel. Napoleon was sure that they had heard the cannon used to blow open the gates, and would soon be passing the information on to the main island of Sardinia.That could not be helped.

  As the sun rose into a clear cold winter sky the air rang with the sound of saws and hammers and the chanted chorus of men heaving together on ropes as they worked on the ramparts. Just after midday a sentry on the gatehouse announced that Colonel Colonna was approaching. Napoleon met him outside the fort. He looked past the colonel along the track.

  ‘How far back are the guns, sir?’

  ‘Quarter of a mile. Maybe less. I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough. Now, if you’d be so good as to show me over the fort?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  Napoleon escorted Colonna inside and he made a great show of praising the battalion before he insisted on seeing the prisoners. The men were herded out into the daylight and they looked at the new arrival apprehensively as Colonna sneered at them.

  ‘Is this the best that Sardinia can muster to throw against us?’ he asked loudly. ‘I’ve seen more dangerous-looking goatherds in the hills around Bastia!’ He paused to direct his next remark at the nearest group of volunteers. ‘No wonder we gave them such a sound thrashing, eh, men?’

  The volunteers gave him a good-natured cheer and Alessi nudged Napoleon and muttered. ‘We? Can’t say I noticed Colonna during the assault.’

  ‘Shh!’

  Colonna left the prisoners and continued his way round the fort, congratulating the men, and when he had finished he sent a soldier to find him some food and wine for lunch, which he proceeded to eat at a small table on the eastern wall as he gazed across the channel towards Caprera. Napoleon turned to Alessi. ‘See what can be found for the battalion to eat, if he’s left anything.’

  As Colonel Colonna finished his meal the first of the eighteen-pounders was dragged into the fort and hauled up the ramp on to the makeshift gun platform that had been strengthened with beams from one of the storerooms. When the naval gun carriage was in position the men used more beams to make a hoist and then forty men took up strain on the rope and hauled the barrel off the ground.When it had reached a sufficient height the gun carriage was rolled in underneath and then the barrel was lowered until the trunnions were in position and capped securely. Then the men released the rope and slumped down, breathless and sweating from their labours.When the second gun arrived the whole process had to be repeated, but by mid-afternoon Napoleon stood on the wall, hands on hips admiring their achievement.

  ‘Right then! Time to announce our intentions!’ Napoleon grinned and then gave the orders for the guns to be loaded and run up to the parapet. Once again he did not trust anyone else to lay the guns as he trained them on the watchtower in the channel. Then he stood back and handed command of the cannon back to the navy gun captains who had come ashore with their charges. Standing clear of the guns Napoleon raised his arm, paused, and then swept it down. ‘Number one gun! Open fire!’

  The roar of the eighteen-pounder, the gush of flame and billowing cloud of smoke took everyone but the navy gun crews by surprise after the much lighter crash of the six-pounder that had opened the attack. The first shot splashed into the sea a hundred yards short of the watchtower as a plume of white spray erupted from the swell. The second shot, from the other gun, appeared to hit the rock beneath the tower. Alterations to elevation were made and the third shot hit the crest of the tower, dislodging masonry that tumbled into the sea. Now that the range had been acquired the guns proceeded to pound the watchtower to pieces.

  It was at this moment, when Napoleon was fully enjoying the fruits of his success, that a navy lieutenant came running into the fort. As soon as he saw Colonna he hurried over to make his report, struggling for breath.

  ‘What is it, man? Speak up!’

  ‘Sir! . . . Beg to report . . . there’s been some trouble . . . on the La Gloire, sir.’

  ‘Trouble? What kind of trouble?’

  The lieutenant lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Mutiny, sir.’

  ‘By God!’ Colonna replied loudly. ‘Mutiny? I must go back to the ship at once! Tell your captain that I’m coming. Go on, man! Run!’

  The hapless naval officer turned away and began trotting wearily back across the courtyard towards the gate. Colonel Colonna sought out Napoleon. ‘You can continue dealing with that watchtower. Meanwhile I want two of your companies to return with me. If those sailors need a lesson, then by God, we Corsicans will teach it to them!’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Napoleon detailed two of the company commanders to assemble their men and shortly afterwards the column tramped out of the fort, with Colonel Colonna at their head. As they watched them disappear over the headland Alessi turned to Napoleon and said quietly, ‘I don’t like this.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It seems too pat, sir. Just when we’ve achieved all we set out to do, there’s news of a mutiny and the colonel scurries off with a third of our men.’

  Napoleon looked at his subordinate and laughed. ‘You’re seeing plots and conspiracies where there are none.’

  ‘I hope so, sir.’

  Less than an hour later, a second messenger arrived. ‘Colonel Colonna’s respects, sir.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘The battalion’s to fall back to the beach, sir. Immediately.’

  ‘What?’ Napoleon glared at the man.

  ‘The colonel is abandoning the operation, sir. He told me to say that the situation aboard the La Gloire is out of control and he needs every man back on board.’

  Napoleon stared at the messenger, rage swiftly building inside him. This was unbelievable. What on earth was Colonna playing at? How could they abandon the fort?

  Napoleon gestured towards the eighteen-pounders. ‘What about those? How does he expect me to get those back to the beach “immediately”?’

  ‘His orders were that you should abandon the guns, sir.’

  Napoleon opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. No, it was too absurd. ‘What exactly is happening on the frigate?’

  ‘Don’t know, si
r. The colonel went out to the frigate as soon as we reached the beach. Before we had even got into the tenders one of them small boats came from the frigate.The officer, one of the colonel’s staff, shouted the order and my officer sent me to fetch you.’

  ‘So your company hadn’t even reached the frigate?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘So how can the situation be out of control?’

  The man shrugged helplessly. ‘I don’t know, sir.’

  Clearly the man knew no more than he had said, and Napoleon dismissed him. In a blind rage, before he could stop himself, he had clenched his fists into balls and smashed them against his thighs. ‘SHIT! . . . Shit! Shit!’

  Lieutenant Alessi approached him warily. ‘Sir?’

  ‘What? What do you want?’

  ‘Orders, sir,’ Alessi said gently. ‘What are your orders?’

  ‘Just a moment.’ Napoleon forced himself to relax and concentrate. He must obey Colonel Colonna right now.The time to question his decisions would have to be later. But, there had better be a damn good reason for this folly. He cleared his head of the bitter rage that had briefly consumed him. ‘Alessi, I’ll stay here with the gun crews and half a company.You take the rest back to the boats.’

  ‘What are you going to do, sir?’

  ‘We can’t let those guns fall into enemy hands. I’ll have to destroy them, and all the other weapons here, before we leave. Now take the rest of the men and go.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Alessi, one last thing. Make sure that the good colonel doesn’t leave without us . . .’

  Napoleon selected his men quickly - strong, fit men, ready for back-breaking labour. When the din of nailed boots of the departing soldiers had faded sufficiently, Napoleon addressed the remaining men. ‘We must destroy those guns. They have to go over the wall.’

  The men set to work knocking gaps in the parapet, using their bayonets to chisel away the ancient mortar before others laid into the stones with hammers from the fort’s workshop. As soon as the gaps were wide enough, the first gun carriage was painstakingly levered forward, then slowly toppled over the wall. Napoleon watched it tumble gracefully until the muzzle struck an outcrop of rock, which was pulverised by the impact. Then the gun crashed into the sea and vanished from sight. As soon as the second gun had joined it Napoleon checked to ensure that all the firearms had been destroyed, down to the last pistol, and then ordered his men to release the prisoners.

  Napoleon was the last man to leave the fort and ran to catch up with the others.

  The light was fading when they reached the beach. The frigate’s boats were bobbing in the surf and Lieutenant Alessi and his men were holding their guns to the boats’ crews. As Napoleon came running down the shingle to join the men scrambling aboard Alessi greeted him with a smile. ‘I’m afraid I had to persuade these gentlemen to wait for you and the others.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Seems that the La Gloire was going to leave the moment the last of my grenadiers was aboard.’ Alessi’s expression was serious now. ‘God knows what’s going on, sir. But we’d better watch our backs.’

  The sun was setting over the horizon and a cold evening breeze was humming in the frigate’s rigging as Napoleon climbed up the side and on to the deck. The scene there was as calm and ordered as it had been when he had left the vessel before dawn. There was no sign of mutiny, no sign at all, and Colonel Colonna was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 68

  ‘I’m telling you, Joseph, the whole fiasco was intended to fail from the outset.’ Napoleon stabbed his finger on the table to emphasise the point.

  They were sitting in the salon of the family’s house in Ajaccio. It was late, and the rest of the family had gone to bed. After Napoleon’s return from the failed expedition in March he had told them some of what had happened after he sailed off to battle with the volunteers. The rest he saved for his older brother, and now that Joseph had come home Napoleon at last unburdened himself. Joseph had never seen him so filled with anger and bitterness.

  ‘Paoli wanted me to fail. No, he wanted me to be abandoned there. To die, or to be taken prisoner.’

  Joseph looked at his brother uncomfortably. ‘Assuming for a moment that your suspicions—’

  ‘Suspicions?’ Napoleon exploded. ‘Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? I don’t have any suspicions about Paoli. I know precisely what kind of creature he is.Yesterday, one of my friends at the Jacobin Club told me there’s a rumour that the Paolists are planning to assassinate me.’

  ‘This is madness.’ Joseph drew a breath and tried again, in a calm tone. ‘What reason could Paoli have for wanting you to fail in your mission, and maybe be killed or captured in the process?’

  Napoleon reached across the table and tapped Joseph on the forehead. ‘Think! He did not want this operation to proceed. Paoli wants to stay on good terms with Piedmont, and sabotage French policy. So, when the time comes to cut Corsica away from France and join Britain he can point to his record of resistance to France. But he couldn’t be too obvious about it. So he went along with the instructions to prepare for the invasion of Sardinia. He is seen to co-operate, and even to offer a battalion of Corsican volunteers to carry out the job. So that when it fails he can blame me, a known Jacobin, and discredit the Jacobin party into the bargain. Of course, he has to make sure that I am not around to contradict him. The fact is that we succeeded, and that lickspittle Colonna ordered us to abandon the fort, abandon the guns . . . The guns,’ Napoleon murmured, and sat back with a shocked expression. ‘Of course! I see it now.’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘Colonna told me to abandon the guns and return to the frigate. He ordered me to.’

  ‘So?’ Joseph shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’m an artillery officer. It’s an article of faith that we never abandon our guns to the enemy. Paoli knew that. So Colonna makes up some story about a mutiny, and orders me to abandon the guns, knowing full well that I would not obey the order. He was counting on me destroying the guns and meanwhile the rest of the battalion would embark and set sail for home. Only, he didn’t think that Lieutenant Alessi would put a gun to the head of the boat crews and force them to wait for us.’ Napoleon slumped against the back of his chair. ‘You have to admire Paoli - he thought it through in almost every detail.The only thing he didn’t account for was Alessi.’

  Joseph reluctantly concluded that Napoleon’s version of events made sense. ‘All right. So Paoli is our enemy, and he’s betraying France, then what do you suggest we do? Inform the Convention?’

  ‘It may be too late for that. By the time we got a message to Saliceti and he convinced the Convention to act, Paoli might have changed sides. He’ll do it anyway, the moment he suspects that Paris knows about his treachery.’ Napoleon looked at his older brother. ‘We have to try and stop him here and now.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Joseph answered nervously. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘I’m going to speak at the Jacobin Club tomorrow night. I’m going to tell them everything. Just as I told you.’ Napoleon’s eyes widened as his mind seized on the options open to him.‘Then I’ll propose a motion that we name Paoli as an enemy of the state and order his immediate arrest.’

  ‘No!’ Joseph shook his head.‘You go too far. Even the Jacobins wouldn’t dare to oppose Paoli. Most of them wouldn’t even think to. He’s their hero, for God’s sake! You tell them he’s a traitor and you’ll get yourself killed. And the rest of us too.You can’t put your family in that kind of danger.’

  ‘I must do this,’ Napoleon insisted. ‘Paoli is our enemy. He is the enemy of our people, only they don’t know it yet. I have to open their eyes. So I will speak tomorrow night.’

  ‘You can’t! You’ll get us all killed.’

  Napoleon stared back at him, and then relented as he accepted that he would be taking a risk, and had no right to endanger his brothers and sisters and his mother. He sighed weari
ly and then spoke in as gentle a tone as he could manage. ‘You must take the family somewhere safe.’

  ‘If it goes badly at the Jacobin Club then there will be nowhere safe in Corsica.’

  ‘Then you must be ready to leave Corsica.You must leave in the morning. Take the family, and what’s left of the gold Uncle Luciano left us in his will, and get berths on a ship to Calvi.When you get there, wait for me. I’ll send word if it’s safe to return. Otherwise I’ll do my best to join you, or get a message to you to say that I’ve failed. If that happens, you must take the first ship to France. There you must tell Saliceti everything. He owes me a favour now.’

  ‘Napoleon, you risk too much.’

  ‘I must do this,’ he replied firmly. ‘I’ll do it for France. I’ll do it for the Corsican people, before Paoli sells them to the English. But most of all I’ll do it because that old bastard betrayed me and I’d rather die than let him bring shame on the name of Buona Parte.

  As soon as Napoleon entered the Jacobin Club the following evening he was aware of the tension in the atmosphere.The other members looked up as he passed through the crowd in the reading room and there was a brief lull in the conversation before they turned back to each other and resumed talking in undertones that only gradually resumed the previous intensity. The blame for the débâcle at Maddalena had been pinned on Napoleon from the outset: the rumourmongers of Ajaccio had been primed well before the volunteer battalion’s inglorious return. Napoleon made his way over to the club’s secretary and added his name to the list of members wishing to address the meeting that night. Then he went to the table over which the latest newspapers from Paris were spread. He picked up a copy of the Moniteur and sat down in the corner of the room, his back to the wall, and began to read while he waited for the meeting to begin.

  The war was not going well. General Dumouriez had been defeated by the Austrians at Neerwinden, the enemy forces opposed to France had been swelled by the declaration of war by England, Spain and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and the Convention had been forced to announce a mass conscription of up to three hundred thousand men to counter the threat. Nor was the threat purely external. Insurrection in the Vendée was threatening to turn into a full-scale counter-revolution. Napoleon smiled grimly. If Paoli was thinking of changing sides, now was the perfect time to do it.