Young bloods - Scarrow Simon (библиотека электронных книг txt) 📗

'Get out of here!' Napoleon yelled. 'All of you! Or I swear I'll shoot the first man to come a step nearer my house!'

'Stand your ground!' a voice called out from further down the street. Napoleon recognised it instantly.

'Di Borgo! Tell your men to go, or I swear to God I'll shoot.'

There was a tense moment of silence, before Napoleon heard a chuckle from the darkness.

'So this is what it takes to make you a believer… There must be no more disrespect for the Church.You've had your warning, Buona Parte.There won't be another. Come on, men, leave them.'

The shadows drew off and Napoleon waited until they were some distance away from the door before he lowered the gun and closed the door to the street. He glanced round at his companions and saw that they were all with him. Besides the youth with the head wound, one was nursing his jaw and another was clutching a broken wrist to his chest.All were panting and looked wild-eyed with excitement and fear. Napoleon saw that his own hands were trembling as they clutched the gun.

'Hey,' one of his comrades muttered, 'would you really have shot at them?'

Napoleon smiled and raised the barrel towards the ceiling. 'I don't think anyone's loaded it in years.'

He pulled the trigger. At once there was a fizz and a deafening explosion as a chunk of plaster exploded from the ceiling. The others jumped back in alarm and then stared at Napoleon in shock.

Moments later a door was wrenched open, feet pattered across the landing and his mother screamed out,'What on earth is going on? Who's firing guns in my house at this time of night?'

Napoleon exchanged an anxious glance with his comrades, before they dissolved into laughter.

Napoleon took the warning seriously enough to make sure that he never entered the streets of Ajaccio alone. For the protection of himself and his family, he persuaded the members of the Jacobin Club to elect him lieutenant colonel of the town's volunteer battalion of the National Guard. It was easily arranged, since he was one of the few men in Ajaccio with professional military training, and as autumn arrived Napoleon took up the post. Since the commander of the unit, Colonel Quenza, was an ageing merchant, another member of the Jacobin Club who had never fired a weapon in anger, let alone taken part in any training exercises, this left Napoleon in effective command of the unit. With a force of five hundred men behind him he had no further trouble from di Borgo and his Paolist friends. Napoleon was free to continue developing his political base in Ajaccio. At the same time he trained the men of the National Guard as thoroughly as possible, under the amused eyes of the off-duty soldiers of the garrison, who were inclined to neglect their training drills in this generally quiet backwater.

The only excitement the following summer was the news of the royal family's attempt to escape from Paris and join up with an army of emigres and foreign mercenaries to seize power back from the National Assembly. Napoleon joined the other members in the Jacobin Club as they crowded round the copies of the Moniteur and the Mercure to read the first accounts of the King's arrest at Varennes. No one was in any doubt that he was little more than a prisoner of the new regime in Paris. The very last vestige of his authority had dissolved in his failed escape attempt.

'It's over then,' Napoleon decided as he finished reading the reports.

'What's over?' one of the younger members of the club asked.

'The monarchy. It's finished.' Napoleon tapped the newspaper with his finger. 'The King and that fool of a Queen have been caught out.They've been pretending to go along with the reforms ever since the Estates General first met. And all the time they have been plotting against the French people. Now they'll be seen for what they are – traitors.'

Several faces turned in Napoleon's direction and he was aware that he had said too much. Even now, even here in the Jacobin Club, there were some who clung to a tradition of respect for the Crown. France was not quite ready to dispense with the monarchy, at least not without causing bitter divisions. But given that there was no longer any way of hiding from the venality of King Louis, the National Assembly would be forced to act, to save France as much as to save itself. Napoleon reflected a moment. If the King was deposed, and that led to a breakdown in order and maybe even civil war, then it was imperative that Corsica did not get embroiled.The island had suffered enough already in its thirst for freedom.

Chapter 59

As the year came to an end, Napoleon received a letter from the War Office in Paris, ordering him to return to the artillery regiment in Auxonne. He still bitterly resented the conditions under which he had been sent on leave – been sent into exile it felt more like – so he simply ignored the letter and carried on drilling his men, and drawing up his plans. Christmas passed with all the usual religious festivals, and Napoleon kept out of sight rather than risk any further trouble over his opinions about the Church. His reputation at the Jacobin Club had won him little affection amongst many of the people of Ajaccio and his family feared for his life.

Early in the new year Napoleon took the volunteer battalion into the country to train them in battle tactics. On a wet, windy February afternoon he put in place the first step of his scheme. He was standing on a hillside beside Colonel Quenza, both men hunched inside their greatcoats as the rain dripped from the brims of their hats. Below them, spread across the rocky floor of a narrow valley, the men of the battalion were manoeuvring into a line of battle to take on an imaginary fortification that had been marked out with stakes some distance ahead. Napoleon was giving a running commentary to his superior, and explaining the new formation he was experimenting with.

'You'll notice that the battalion is formed up with a column at each end of the line.'

'Yes,' Quenza said.'I had wondered about that.What's this new gimmick for, Buona Parte? What's wrong with using the old column of advance, eh?'

Napoleon pointed to the distant stakes. 'Let's assume that there are cannon in those fortifications, sir. If we sent the men forward in column they'd be cut to pieces. If we sent them forward in line formation, we'd lose far less men, but when we reached the defences we would lack the necessary concentration of force to break through. This mixed formation seems to offer the best chance, besides protecting both flanks against any surprise attacks.'

Quenza watched the battalion advance steadily over the broken ground, keeping its formation as it progressed. He nodded his satisfaction.'You've done wonders with the men, Buona Parte. I'm very pleased with you.'

'Thank you, sir.' Napoleon bowed his head modestly. Now was the time to speak, he decided. He cleared his throat. 'In my judgement, as a professional soldier, your battalion is as good as any in the French Army. Better than most perhaps. Certainly better than the garrison in Ajaccio.'

Quenza's chest swelled a little with pride. 'Yes. We could show them a thing or two.'

'We could, sir.' Napoleon smiled. 'So why don't we?'

Quenza turned towards him with a puzzled expression. 'What do you mean?'

'Just this. If your battalion can perform to the highest standards, then we really don't need to have the garrison there to protect us. Our battalion could take over the citadel and defend the town, if need be. I'm sure the government would be only too pleased to be relieved of the burden. God knows, they need more men in France at the moment.'

'Yes… yes, I imagine they do.'

'You might suggest that to General Paoli when you next write to him, sir.' Napoleon shrugged.'I'm sure he'd jump at the chance to have at least one Corsican town defended by Corsicans.'