by Griff Hosker
Napoleon’s Guard
Book 2 in the Napoleonic Horseman Series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Sword Books Ltd 2013
Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Maps and cover illustration courtesy of Wikipaedia.
Chapter 1
I had no time to mourn for my friend Michael. He had been beheaded by Barbary pirates even as we were edging close to Egypt. General Bonaparte had sent five chasseurs and a company of grenadiers to secure the harbour of Alexandria. Our mission was to make the port safe for the invasion fleet of the charismatic French general. Now we would have to do it with just three chasseurs and a company of grenadiers who had been sorely depleted in a pirate attack by three xebecs. We had beaten them off but it had cost us dearly. I am Captain Robert Macgregor of the 17th Chasseurs à Cheval. I had campaigned through Italy with the general and, with Major Jean Bartiaux, my friend and mentor we had acted as spies and scouts many times. This last occasion was the first in which we had lost men. Michael was dead and Sous lieutenant Pierre Boucher was seriously wounded.
“Robbie! Snap out of it!” Jean’s voice brought me out of my reverie. I looked around and saw that we had just passed the entrance of Alexandria harbour and soon we would be landing. “Get rid of the hat and the jacket.”
“Sorry sir. You are right.”
“Sergeant Major, go and get the spare pistols from Pierre and Michael they may come in handy.” I did as ordered and he came closer to speak with me privately, “I know you are upset but Michael would not wish you to lose your life too would he?”
He was right and we all knew how parlous our existence was. A blade could come from nowhere, as it had for Michael, or a volley of musket balls; both would be fatal to the unwary. This was a war which took no pity on those involved and made no allowances for sentiment and friendship.
The captain of the sloop edged us to a small beach some two miles from the port. We had seen the Ottoman flags, the Janissary guards and the guns, but the Maltese flag meant that we sailed by unmolested. We took our swords and a brace of pistols each. We had to find where the cannons were located so that, when we landed, after dark, Major Lefevre and his grenadiers could disable the guns and hold the entrance until the fleet arrived.
Francois, the captain of the sloop came down to see us. “I will sail out to sea and be back here in four hours. I will not be able to hang around.”
Jean smiled, “We know and we have done this before.”
“These are not the Maltese so be careful. To these people you are the infidel. They trade with the Maltese but if you step ashore then you become fair game. They still put prisoners into their galleys to row them.”
We descended into the small skiff. The last time we had done this there had been five of us but on this occasion it was not so crowded. I wished it was. We leapt ashore and raced across the soft white sand towards the line of palm trees. It was not much cover but it was better than standing on the beach. When we turned round the two sailors were pulling as hard as they could to reach the safety of the sloop.
We knew in which direction in which to travel and we also knew that we were conspicuous. We had white faces and there were not many of those. We did not speak the language and, if we had to run, then our means of escape was four hours away. The prospects did not look good. It was close to noon and unbearably hot. As Jean had said that gave us our only chance for most people would be indoors sheltering from the unrelenting sun. Who would be foolish enough to walk when the day was at its hottest? We began to pass small mud huts. The only creatures stirring were the cats and the dogs and they were just seeking shade. We had travelled a mile when we saw our first gun. There was a small stone wall and behind it was one old cannon. We had not seen it from the sea and it surprised us. Jean took out his crude map and drew an x where it was. The gun crew were nowhere to be seen. We moved in whatever shelter there was to hand.
There were more houses now and we moved more carefully. None of us had watches but we could use the sun to estimate time. We had been travelling for about an hour. We would have to turn back in half an hour. We could see the tower at the entrance to the harbour now. It was about three quarters of a mile away. We also saw uniforms. We would now have to become invisible; not easy when you were as white as we were.
Suddenly Tiny stopped us and pointed. There was some washing on a line blowing in the sea breeze. It looked to be the long white cloaks worn by the locals and the head dress they used. We later found they were called the Thobe and the Keffiyeh but when we stole them we had no idea what they were called. The tunic was easy to wear but we just wrapped the cloth around our heads anyway we could. It didn’t look perfect but it disguised us. When we had been in the country longer we learned to wear them as the locals did. We now headed towards the guns more confidently. We avoided closing with them; all we need to do was to locate them and then to have them marked on Jean’s map. Instead we headed for the harbour side of the sea wall. On the city side of the harbour we could see what looked like a barracks. There was an Ottoman flag flying and sentries patrolling. As we closed with the end of the harbour wall we could now see the guns and cannons varying from ancient pieces to a couple of new twelve pounders. They looked like they could easily damage a ship; especially a slow transport loaded with men. Altogether there were twenty guns. Although we only counted thirty men, it was obvious from the buildings close to the gun emplacements, that there had to be many more who were now resting indoors.
Jean pointed east and murmured, “Let’s head back we have seen enough.” More people had come out of their homes as we wandered back down to the rendezvous point. They stared at us but said nothing. I suspected that our presence would be reported but, hopefully, we would have been taken off by then.
We reached the beach and there was no sign of the sloop. Jean took the opportunity of adding to his sketch map. “I think they will need eight or ten men for each gun. That is two hundred men altogether.”
Tiny whistled, “Can we handle that number?” None of us knew the quality of the Ottoman soldiers. We knew Austrians, British and Dutch but this was a new enemy.
Jean shrugged, “We have to. The fleet is arriving tomorrow and our general expects the harbour entrance to be secured.”
Just then two things happened. We saw the masts of the sloop to the north as it headed back and we saw to the west, a crowd of people approaching. Some waved ancient muskets. “It looks like we have been spotted.”
The crowd was about half a mile away and they were gathered around the first gun we had seen. “Tiny, keep watching the ship; tell us when they are close. Robbie, let’s check these pistols.”
I took out the two pistols from my belt and made sure that they were primed and loaded. It was unnecessary but it gave us something to do. We watched as ten soldiers formed a column and began to march down towards us. I could see their muskets slung over their shoulders.
“The sloop is about a mile offshore and closing fast.”
“Wave that scarf thing so they know it is us.” He did so and I hoped that the red cloth of the headdress stood out against the white buildin
gs. The soldiers were marching resolutely followed by a gaggle of onlookers. They reminded me of the crowds at the Place de la Revolution eager to see someone suffer. It was the same the world over. People enjoyed the misery of others.
Tiny’s voice drifted over to us. “They have lowered the rowing boat!”
“Right Sergeant Major, get over here.” We now had six pistols. Tiny stood next to us. The soldiers were a hundred yards away. The officer waved his sword and the men went into a ragged line. They advanced towards us.
I glanced over my shoulder, “Any time you like sir, the boat is almost close enough for us to wade out to it.”
“Ready? Fire!”
The six pistols boomed at the same time and a wall of smoke appeared before us. We just turned and ran. I heard a ragged ripple as the Ottoman soldiers fired. The musket balls zipped over our heads as we ran down the beach towards the azure blue sea. The boat with the two sailors was in the shallows and we waded out. As Tiny helped Jean on board, I turned and saw the soldiers running after us. Some of the Ottomans were trying to load as they ran. The crew of the rowing boat hauled me on board. Tiny and me grabbed the spare oars and rowed for all we were worth out to the waiting sloop.
One of the sailors said, “We weren’t certain it was you until you waved your towel thing at us. That was certainly cutting it fine.”
Tiny laughed, “That is the only way we know how to do things!”
Once we were aboard François, took the ship north. “Well done Major Bartiaux. I am sorry we were slightly late.” He pointed to the masthead pennant. “These winds are so fickle. We will head north to confuse the soldiers and then head west. I will take us south when it is dark. You will need to tell me the best place to land.”
Major Lefevre came over with a huge grin on his face. ”Pistols against muskets?”
Jean laughed, “It was all we had but it was effective.”
“Yes I saw that, you killed none but you made them fire their muskets.”
“We did not need to kill them, merely slow them down.” He took out his map. He pointed as he spoke. “There are guns here and here which could damage our fleet and they will outnumber your grenadiers. We will need the lieutenant to bring his ship close and use his guns to keep the enemy from reinforcing the harbour. The guns can be isolated as they are all at the end but we saw what looked like a barracks a mile from the guns.”
“Do the guns have trenches around them?”
“No, but they are protected from the sea by small mud walls. There are some hidden guns.” He pointed again at the map and the crosses he had used.
“So there are twenty guns.” Major Lefevre glanced at his men lounging on the deck. “We do not have enough men now to split into twenty groups.”
“Then do it in two groups. If we drop half of your men at the end of the harbour entrance then the captain can drop the other half close to here, where we saw the first gun.” Jean pointed at the map. “That way we can advance towards each other. Both parties will out number each gun crew.”
Francois had joined us. “The problem is that while I am sailing east I will be at the mercy of all of their guns.”
“It will be at night and the grenadiers can line the deck and fire at any gun emplacement which has any activity close by.”
Major Lefevre nodded, “I agree. That is the plan. I will lead the assault from the harbour and Captain Blanc can lead from the other end.”
“We will accompany Captain Blanc. We know the layout of the guns and it might help.”
“Thank you Major, I appreciate the offer.”
With a darkened ship and a moonless night to aid us we ghosted towards the harbour of Alexandria. It was well lit and we had no difficulty in identifying the section the grenadiers needed to reach. There were guards at the end and they were huddled around a brazier smoking. They did not appear worried by the ‘Carillon’s’ approach until we suddenly headed east towards them. They began shouting; I think they thought the helmsman was asleep, and then they raised their muskets. By then it was too late. Even as they fired they were cut down by the deck gun, filled with grape shot. Two sailors bravely leapt ashore and wrapped two mooring ropes around the bollards. The fifty grenadiers quickly leapt on to the quay and began to bayonet and shoot the guards who were gathered around the two large guns at the end of the defences. As soon as the soldiers had landed the two sailors jumped back aboard with their ropes.
Francois wasted no time and the sails filled as the ship sped swiftly and silently away. By now the gun crews were fully awake and racing to their guns. By the time they reached them we were gone like a will-o-the-wisp.
“Lower the mainsail! A point to the north if you please helmsman.” The lieutenant was a good sailor and the ‘Carillon’ as responsive as my horse Killer. The ship came to a halt against the ancient harbour wall and the two sailors again jumped for the quayside. One missed and disappeared beneath the dark waters. His companion made the rope fast and we were pulled next to the quay. Captain Blanc was the first ashore but, as he landed on the quay side an Egyptian officer rammed his scimitar into his stomach. Jean shot him and then took command. “Grenadiers ashore and form two lines, muskets at the ready.”
Tiny and I quickly reached the dead officer. I checked but he was dead. I drew my pistol. Already the guards were running towards the ancient gun. I shot one and Tiny a second. Without waiting for the grenadiers we both drew our swords and ran to the gun emplacement. There were six guards left and they turned to fight us. One used the ram from the cannon which he swung at Tiny. The huge sergeant major ducked and skewered the Egyptian. I sliced across the face of a second and then the hands of the others went up. They had surrendered.
“Major, we have captured this gun.”
“Good. Swing it around to face the town.” He looked for a corporal. “You, Brigadier, take five of your men and man this gun. Fill it with grapeshot and stop anyone from approaching. Sergeant, tie up these prisoners. The rest of you forward, at the double. The next gun will not be as easy as this one.”
Even as we moved forward Tiny and I were reloading our guns. We could hear the sounds of battle from the far end of the harbour. The Ottoman gunners had a dilemma; which force should they attack? Then the ‘Carillon’ went into action. Her little guns blasted the gunners as they dithered over which force was the most dangerous.
I heard Jean’s commanding voice, “Grenadiers! Charge!” The thirty grenadiers charged the gunners and the surviving Janissaries surrendered at the next three guns. They had had enough. The grapeshot had done its worst and the sight of the tall grenadiers running towards them had finally ended their resistance. Waking in the middle of the night to be assaulted by unknown soldiers must have been terrifying.
“Robbie you and Tiny go and find the major. Tell him we have secured this end of the harbour.” He turned to the big sergeant next to him. “Secure these prisoners and put two men to guard them. Then join me down there.” He pointed to the first gun we had captured. He saw I had not moved: I was stunned by the speed of our success. “Come on captain, move!”
“Sir!”
Tiny and I ran. Any of the remaining gun crews were busily attending to their wounded. I could see the ‘Carillon’ tacking around to sail down the harbour once more. I hoped that François would look before he fired. At the eastern end of the harbour defences, all resistance had ended. When I reached the first of Major Lefevre’s grenadiers I could see that he too was mopping up the last few Janissaries.
“Sir, Major Bartiaux has captured the eastern end and is building a barricade there.”
“Good. Sergeant Major Lajune, take a section and help the major.” He grinned. “That went better than I had hoped.”
“I think we caught them at a bad time. It all depends now how many men they have in the garrison.” I suddenly saw their prisoners. “We took many prisoners too sir. What do we do with them? If we are attacked we will need every man to defend what we hold.”
“True; c
aptain go to the quay and signal the ship. The lieutenant can guard them and take off our wounded.”
Tiny and ran to the side of the sea wall. “How does he expect us to do that sir?”
“Grab a lantern and I will show you.”
By the time Tiny had returned I had taken one of the jackets from a dead Janissary. I held the jacket over the light and then flashed three times before covering the light again. I counted to thirty and repeated it. “I am counting on the fact that the lieutenant knows three flashes means us.” I was using the signal we had used in Malta.
After four sequences I was relieved to see the signal repeated. I threw the jacket to the ground. The first glimmer of light from the east heralded the appearance of the sloop. Tiny and I caught the mooring ropes and tied the ship off. Two sailors jumped ashore and grinned as one said, “Nice effort sir. This is how it is done properly.” They retied the lines and François stepped ashore.
The major arrived. “We have prisoners and we need them secured. Take them aboard your ship.”
“What will I do with them?”
The major shrugged as though it was not his problem. I looked at the empty main deck. “They are all tied lieutenant. If you sit them on the deck then you can use your two deck guns to cover them.”
“What if we have to sail?”
The major said, “In that case we will have failed for it will mean the fleet have not arrived. I think General Bonaparte will make it.”
“Tiny, go and fetch our prisoners and tell the major I will join him as soon as the prisoners are secured.”
The prisoners all looked sorry for themselves. I noticed how ill dressed they were. Most did not have shoes and their uniforms were barely even the semblance of a uniform. They were discoloured and ill fitting rags. It was just their turbans which marked them as soldiers. As soon as they on board I ran down the wall to find Jean. Daylight showed just how effective our attack had been. The guns were surrounded by small huddles of bodies. The closer we came to the east, the more bodies we discovered.