Captain Des Mazis led his detachment back to Auxonne on the afternoon of 18 July. It was immediately apparent that something significant had happened. The streets were filled with people locked in earnest discussion. They moved aside as the column of soldiers tramped past.
'Keep the men moving!' Captain Des Mazis yelled from the front of the column. 'Back to the barracks as quickly as possible.'
Alexander reined his horse in and waited for Napoleon before edging his mount back into the column.
'What's this all about, I wonder.'
'Something's happened at Versailles, perhaps,' Napoleon said.
Alexander stared at him in wide-eyed excitement. 'The King's moved against the National Assembly. I bet that's it.'
'We'll know soon enough.'
As the detachment marched in through the main gates of the barracks a junior lieutenant came running up. He saluted Captain Des Mazis and passed on his orders in breathless excitement.
'Colonel's compliments, sir. All officers are to report to headquarters at once.'
'At once? But we've only just returned from Seurre.'
'At once, sir.'
'Very well.' Captain Des Mazis turned in his saddle and bellowed an order to the detachment. 'Fall out! Corporal, take over!'
The three officers marched quickly across the parade ground to the headquarters building. Inside, the main hall was filled with the rest of the officers from the regiment and the artillery school. Napoleon edged over towards General du Tiel.
'Excuse me, sir.'
'Ah, Buona Parte. It's grim news, isn't it, lad?'
Napoleon shook his head. 'What news, sir?'
'From Paris-'
Before the general could continue there was a commotion at the end of the hall and heads turned as the colonel strode in through a side door and quickly mounted the small platform. At his side was a young officer, looking weary and bearing the filth of some days' hard riding. An expectant silence filled the hall as the officers faced the colonel and waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat and drew a deep breath. His voice carried clearly over the crowd and communicated his anxiety in the forced tonelessness of his delivery.
'Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Corbois of the Swiss Guard. He has come to us directly from Versailles with a dispatch from the War Minister.' He turned towards Corbois and gestured for him to step forward. 'It's best that you tell the news.'
'Yes, sir.' Lieutenant Corbois calmed his nerves and began to speak.'Four days ago, on the fourteenth, the mob in Paris stormed the Bastille. They slaughtered most of the garrison, murdered the governor and seized all the stores of muskets and gunpowder. When I left Versailles the King was having orders prepared for General Broglie to march on Paris. Gentlemen!' Lieutenant Corbois's voice was strained and he had to pause a moment to clear his throat again. 'Gentlemen, I fear that France will be at war with itself at any moment.'
Chapter 52
In the days that followed the fall of the Bastille the officers of the Regiment de la Fere waited for the command to march against the communes of Paris and restore order. But no command came and, to their astonishment, it seemed that the King had simply accepted the seizing of the prison and the slaughter of members of the garrison. Word of the surrender of royal authority to the mob spread through France like a plague.
A few days after the fall of the Bastille a riot broke out in Auxonne. A crowd destroyed the town gates and then made its way through the streets to the tax office and sacked it, badly beating the handful of officials who had tried to deny the mob entry to the building. The colonel of the artillery regiment had ordered a detachment of his men to stiffen the ranks of the local civil guards being assembled to put down the rioters. But once the soldiers were given their orders they had refused to march against the townspeople. The men were confined to barracks at once and a more reliable company of soldiers were sent in their place. The mob was quickly broken up and order restored in Auxonne, but the bad feeling lingered in the barracks. Napoleon, more attuned to the sentiments of the common soldiers than the other officers, sensed it at once. Although daily routine continued, the men took longer to obey orders. Their demeanour became noticeably more surly and the number of complaints about their quarters, their food and their pay grew from the usual trickle into a stream of notes presented to the colonel through their sergeants. Soon the complaints took on the tone of demands and the colonel, mindful of the fate of the governor of the Bastille, took to wearing his sword around the barracks.
Then, on a stifling day in August, as Napoleon was writing up an inventory of the battalion's munitions, he became aware of raised voices on the parade ground. Not the usual bawls of a sergeant drilling his men, but a more angry and exasperated shouting. Setting down his pen, Napoleon rose from his desk and crossed the stores office to look out of the window. A company of artillerymen were standing at ease. In front of them stood a red-faced sergeant, screaming at them to stand to attention.When no one moved the sergeant strode up to the nearest man and bellowed the order again. The soldier looked to his companions, and then shook his head.
'Defy me, would you? You cocky little bastard!' The sergeant drew back his baton to strike the man about the face, but before the blow could be landed another soldier stepped forward and swung the butt of his musket up, into the sergeant's stomach.The sergeant doubled over, winded, and then slumped on to his knees. The assailant raised a boot and kicked the sergeant on to his back, before turning to his comrades.
'Come on, lads! It's time we presented our grievences to the colonel in person.'
'What if he doesn't listen?' one soldier called out.
The first man smiled. 'Oh, he'll listen all right, if he knows what's good for him. Let's go! To headquarters!'
Napoleon felt sick at what he had just witnessed. This was mutiny, almost the worst offence that a soldier could commit.The penalty was death.Those men must know it and, knowing it, they would be quite ruthless.
'Shit…' Napoleon's mind raced.What the hell should he do? He snatched up his coat and hat, hoping that a formal appearance might yet carry some weight with these men. Hurrying outside, he strode across the parade ground towards the sergeant. The last of the soldiers were moving off to follow the ringleaders heading for headquarters and as he approached them the men stared at him uncertainly. Napoleon saluted and instinctively the nearest man stiffened his back and raised his hand to respond, until one of his companions slapped the hand down.
'None of that any more! You understand?'
The soldier nodded, still watching Napoleon anxiously, but the young officer ignored him and bent down over the prostrate form of the sergeant. Beside him he heard the soldier who had intervened continue, 'Come on, you!'
The soldiers scrambled away, crunching across the gravel as they made off in the wake of the rest of the company. Napoleon glanced down at the sergeant.The man was clutching his guts and fighting for breath. His face was white and twisted into an expression of agony.
'Sergeant, are you all right?'
The man rolled his eyes and then hissed through clenched teeth. 'Do… I… fucking… look… all right, sir?'
Napoleon grinned. 'Sorry. Do you need any help?'
The sergeant shook his head. 'Just winded… Warn the colonel, sir… Now. Go!'
Napoleon straightened up and looked round.The soldiers had already reached the steps of the headquarters building and had thrust aside the two sentries who had tried to challenge them. Napoleon turned towards the officers' mess, but already another party of soldiers was heading in that direction. He left the sergeant and ran over towards these men, shouting as he got closer to them.