Young bloods

Chapter 49

The Regiment de la Fere had been transferred to Auxonne, in the Burgundy region. When Napoleon arrived he was disappointed to find that Auxonne was a small provincial market town with few of the sights and distractions that had beguiled him in Paris. The barracks were a dilapidated sprawl of buildings on the edge of town, even though the regiment boasted its own artillery school where French officers, and a handful of foreigners, learned their trade and experimented with all manner of refinements to the charge, shot and the guns. Napoleon had been informed that the commandant of the school was General Baron du Tiel, something of a legend amongst the more professional of the artillery officers of the French Army. It was a fine opportunity to study under such a man and Napoleon looked forward to meeting the general as soon as possible.

It was late afternoon when he presented himself at the guardhouse. Once his documents had been checked he was directed to headquarters. Napoleon found the adjutant's office and knocked on the door.

'Come!'

Napoleon entered. Behind the desk Captain Des Mazis glanced up and his eyes widened as he recognised the arrival.

Napoleon saluted and then handed his documents over to the adjutant. 'Lieutenant Buona Parte returning from leave, sir.'

'Buona Parte! Good God, how long has it been?' Captain Des Mazis frowned as he tried to recall. 'A year? No, nearly a year and half, isn't it?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I'm surprised to see you back.We'd almost given up hope that you'd return. Any illness that causes a man to be away from his regiment for so long tends to be the kind you never recover from.' He smiled and stood up, offering his hand.

Napoleon took it. 'It's good to be back, sir.'

'Good?' Captain Des Mazis shook his head ruefully. 'There's not much good about this town, as I'm sure you've seen already. Quite a change from Valence.' He smiled faintly.'Still, there's a few places to drink and enough whores to go round. It'll do. At least you'll have a room in the officers' mess. Down the corridor and turn left at the end, into the hall. You can't miss it. It's the only cheerful spot for miles around.'

Napoleon saluted, left the adjutant's office and followed his directions to the mess. The sounds of laughter and high-spirited conversation carried up the hall. Napoleon left the porter with instructions to find the mess sergeant and arrange some quarters for him and then paid him off. Smoothing down his hair and twitching the creases out of his jacket, Napoleon entered the mess.

The accommodation provided for the regiment's officers was just as run down as the rest of the barracks. The floor was bare stone, and a few rickety chairs and tables were positioned along the damp walls. In the centre of the room a loose circle of young officers stood about two of their comrades who each had a bottle of wine perched on his head. Both men had drawn swords and were carefully keeping pace with each other as they tried to topple the other's bottle.The other officers cheered them on, and paid no attention to Napoleon as he approached the ring. Squeezing between the shoulders of two of the onlookers, Napoleon could at last see that one of the fencers was his friend Alexander Des Mazis. Alexander stood stiffly, legs braced, eyes fixed on the tip of his opponent's blade; the very picture of concentration and focus. Then he slid a foot forward, eased his weight behind it and quickly stretched out his arm. As the other man moved to parry, Alexander disengaged, raised the point and flicked the blade across the top of his opponent's head.The bottle tumbled over and struck the ground in an explosion of green glass and blood-red wine.

'Touche!' Alexander shouted in triumph, tilting his head and catching the other bottle in his spare hand.'That's a half-louis you owe me.'

The other officer nodded ruefully, reached into his fob, pulled out a gold coin and tossed it to Alexander as the crowd began to break up. Alexander glanced round at his companions with a beaming smile until his eyes fixed on the small figure staring back at him with a grin.

'Napoleon!' Alexander sheathed his blade and strode over to grasp his friend by the shoulder.'I thought I'd seen the last of you. Disappeared into that bolt hole of Corsica never to be heard from again. Now, here you are! What on earth kept you away for so long?'

'Illness… Family business.'

'And some woman, I'll wager.' Alexander nudged him.

'Are you so keen to lose that half-louis already?' Napoleon laughed. 'Besides, I have little time for women.'

'Of course.' Alexander made a serious face. 'When the choice is between curling up with a woman or a book, the book wins every time.'

'Depends on the book.'

'Then you haven't met the right woman yet. I'll have to set that right as soon as I can.' Alexander raised the bottle. 'Come on, let's have a drink.'

They sat down at one of the tables and Alexander called out to one of the mess stewards to bring some glasses. He bit into the end of the cork protruding from the bottle and pulled it out with a grunt, spitting the cork on to the floor.

'A local wine. Not the best, but it'll help us to forget its origins.'The steward hurried over with two glasses and Alexander filled them to the brim. He raised his glass. 'Good to see you again.'

'And you.'

They downed the wine in one and Napoleon tried not to flinch at its acid burn in his throat and stomach. 'Rough stuff.'

'And it's as good as we can get in Auxonne.' Alexander shook his head. 'Not the best of times, I think. Everything's in short supply and prices are rising all the time. I haven't tasted a really good wine in months. And thanks to the poor harvest there's barely enough flour in town to bake a decent loaf of bread. It's enough to make a grown man weep.'

'Yes…' Napoleon recalled the pinched faces of the townspeople he had passed in Auxonne.While Alexander might have to forgo his luxuries, they were struggling to keep themselves and their families from starvation. 'It's the same in nearly every town I passed through on the way here from Paris.There's been rioting too. I tell you, Alexander, I'm worried. It feels like the whole country is about to…'

'About to what?'

'I don't know exactly. But it won't be pretty.'

Alexander shrugged. 'That's what the parliament's for. The King will give them all a chance to let off some steam. Once the clergy, the nobles and the commoners have had a chance to air their grievances it'll all blow over.You'll see.'

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. 'You really think so?'

'Of course.'Alexander filled their glasses again.'Look here.The King needs taxes. He can't get the money from the nobles. They just won't stand for it. And since the clergy is stuffed with the sons of the nobility they're hardly likely to go against the nobles. So that leaves the third estate outnumbered two to one. They'll have to put up with an increase in taxes, whether they like it or not.'

'I can tell you now, they won't like it. And they won't stand for it any longer.'

Alexander snorted. 'Their stomachs might be empty, but the rest of their bodies are full of hot air.You were there at Lyons.You saw how quickly they gave in at the first sign of a bayonet.We've dealt with two more riots since then, with exactly the same result. A sharp reminder is what the rabble needs. That, or a decent harvest, or a few handouts of free bread, and they'll quieten down soon enough.You'll see.'

Napoleon stared down into his glass and swilled the red wine round just below the rim. He shrugged. 'Let's hope you are right.'

'Anyway, enough of politics. What on earth have you been up to since you left us in Valence?'

As Napoleon related his news, his mind was still filled with grave doubts about the future. If all the nobility were as oblivious as Alexander to the anger swelling up in the hungry streets of the cities and in the surrounding countryside, then they would never even see the approaching storm that might one day sweep them away. Napoleon had gauged the popular mood in Paris. He had read the pamphlets and heard the guarded speeches that raged against the injustices afflicting France. It was as clear as day to him. The ordinary people – the peasants, the town labourers, the merchants, lawyers and the rest of the bourgeois – every one of them had simply had more than they could bear, and their voices would demand to be heard on the day that the Estates General were convened. Glancing round the other officers in the mess, Napoleon found it hard to believe that they could be so blind to the condition of their compatriots.