Chapter 79.

The rain began at dusk and continued into the night as the men emerged from their tents and formed up in their companies and battalions before marching off towards the fishing village of La Seyne. A cold wind had blown up from the sea, driving the rain into their faces, and long before they had reached the village every man was soaked to the skin and shivering. Being small and thin, Napoleon felt the discomfort even more than the men he trudged alongside. He had left headquarters to make his final report on the preparations just after it had begun to rain.The track had quickly turned into a quagmire that sucked at his boots, and where the ground was more stony it made the surface slippery so that he had to concentrate on every step he took.

Napoleon had not considered such awful weather when he had drawn up his plans for Dugommier, and now, as he pulled his greatcoat tightly about his shoulders, he tried to consider the possible impact this freezing rain would have on the attack. As long as this mud did not slow them down too much the attack should succeed. Besides, the rain would help to conceal their approach and the sound of their progress would be m.u.f.fled by the hiss and patter amid the bl.u.s.tering moan of the wind.

When he reached La Seyne Napoleon made his way to the merchant's house that had been chosen for the headquarters for the night's operation. Victor, Delaborde and Brule were already waiting as Napoleon entered, spattered in mud and dripping water across the threshold. He closed the door behind him and hurried across to the glow of the fire that crackled in the grate.

'You could have picked a better night for it, Buona Parte,' Victor smiled. 'If this rain continues then, to be honest, we'd better leave the job to the navy.'

'What navy?' Brule grumbled. 'Useless b.a.s.t.a.r.ds gave up their ships without a fight when Toulon went over to the British.'

Victor shook his head sadly. 'Colonel Brule, I was joking.'

'Joking?' Brule glanced at him guardedly. He was a die-hard Jacobin, as willing to kill for his cause as die for it, which partly explained his elevation to his present rank. 'Soldiering's a serious business, Colonel. There's no place in it for jokes.'

'Really?'Victor responded with a wry look.'In which case you must surely be the exception to the rule.'

As Brule frowned Victor turned back to the new arrival. 'Everything settled at headquarters?'

'As settled as it can be,' Napoleon replied, trying to stop his teeth chattering. 'The general and his staff will be on their way down to join us.Then we just have to wait for Lapoye to give the signal. He'll fire a red rocket tonight, just after his men make contact with the enemy. We acknowledge it with a green rocket.'

'What if we don't see it?' said Colonel Delaborde. 'In this weather, we might not, especially if there's a mist later on.'

'A fair point,' Napoleon nodded. 'In that case, if there's no signal by midnight, we might wait an hour before the columns march out of the village and make for the fort.'

'If that's what the general decides,' Delaborde replied. 'It may be your plan, Buona Parte, but it's still his army.'

Napoleon looked round and fixed the older man with a blank stare. 'Of course. Whatever the general decides.'

Colonel Victor clapped his hands. 'Come now, gentlemen! No long faces. No disagreements. Let's have a drink and a hand of cards while we wait.'

'Cards?' Brule frowned.

'Yes. Whist? Or should the prospect of following the fortunes of fifty-two cards be too daunting for you, we could play vingt-et-un. '

'Ah!' Brule's dull expression lightened up. 'Vingt-et-un. Now that's a game I enjoy.'

Colonel Victor smiled. 'How could I possibly say I am surprised, my dear Colonel? Come then, let's play. Buona Parte, join us.'

Napoleon shook his head. 'Not tonight. There's too much at stake. I can't help thinking about it.'

'It's all in hand. The plan's good and, besides, there's nothing you can do about it now. The cards will take your mind off it. I find it helps calm the nerves.'

Napoleon nodded. 'Very well, I'll play.'

The men sat round a small table and as Victor shuffled and dealt the first hand Napoleon reflected that Victor was right. When an operation began then the men involved must cease thinking about all that had gone before; all that mattered was performing their specific tasks in a clear-minded way. So he concentrated on the play of cards by the other officers and noted that each had a distinct style that said much about his character. Delaborde was cautious, Brule impulsive and obvious, and Victor affected a nonchalance that belied an extremely calculating mind. After the first half-hour Victor suggested that they might play for money, just small stakes, to help them focus their concentration. For the next hour he proceeded to fleece the other colonels of the contents of their purses and would have completed the job had not General Dugommier intervened.

The colonels lowered their cards and stood up. The general nodded a greeting and then gestured through the door. 'Filthy night. Every track has turned into bog. It'll be tough going.'

Dugommier made his way over to the fire, as Napoleon had done, and warmed his hands. 'What hour is it?'

Victor reached for his fob watch. 'Twenty minutes to midnight, sir.'

'Then you'd better join your units, gentlemen. Watch for the rocket. Move off as soon as you see it.'

Napoleon and the others pulled on their coats and hats, still heavy and sodden, and left the building. Outside the rain was falling even harder, rattling off the tiled roofs and hissing into the muddy street. Everywhere Napoleon looked the men were huddling under eaves or in the doorways of houses.

Colonel Victor grasped Napoleon's hand. 'I'll see you in the fort.'

'Yes. Until later then.'

The officers dispersed. Napoleon trudged through the streets to the fish market where the reserve battalions were waiting. He found Lieutenant Junot and the other officers warming themselves over the embers of a fire in a smithy.

'Junot!'

'Yes, sir.'

'You've got better eyes than me. Get over to the church. Climb the tower and keep watch for Lapoye's signal. You let me know the instant you see anything.'

'Yes, sir.' Junot saluted and then ran off down the cobbled street, hurriedly b.u.t.toning his coat. Napoleon took his s.p.a.ce by the hearth, pulling up a stool, and then settled down to wait. Midnight pa.s.sed, then another half-hour, and then one o'clock. Still there was no sign of Lapoye's signal and no report from Junot.

Then at half-past one, a staff officer strode into the fish market. He cupped his hands and called out, 'Colonel Buona Parte!'

'Over here!'

Napoleon rose from the stool and advanced to meet the staff officer. 'What's up?'

'General Dugommier's compliments, sir. He wants to see the senior officers, straight away.'

Napoleon nodded and as the staff officer ran off to find the next man on his list Napoleon hurried back through the streets. When he arrived he discovered Brule and Delaborde in earnest discussion with the general. Dugommier waved the new arrival towards the table.

'Any sign of the signal from your position, Buona Parte?'

'No, sir.'

'You see?' Delaborde shook his head. 'No signal. Something must have gone wrong.'

Dugommier stroked his chin. 'Perhaps. It is equally possible that the weather has delayed Lapoye and his men are still getting into position.'

'We don't know that, sir,' Delaborde insisted.'But even if it was true, this rain has made the ground impa.s.sable. Worse still, it'll make it impossible to use firearms. Our men will be at a terrible disadvantage.'

'No,' Napoleon responded. 'There is no disadvantage. The same conditions apply to the enemy. At least our cannon will be able to fire. The powder's sheltered and the fuses will burn even in this rain. We can still proceed with the attack.'

Delaborde shook his head at Napoleon and turned back to the general. 'Sir, we must call off the attack. Wait until we have better weather. Otherwise there might be a disaster.'

Napoleon felt a wave of frustration at the man's anxiety. As he wiped his dripping hair to the side of his forehead the door opened and Colonel Victor joined them.

'Ah,' Dugommier smiled. 'Now that you're all here, we must make a decision. There's been no signal from Lapoye. Delaborde and Brule advise me that the attack should be cancelled, and that we wait for better weather.'

'That would make life easier, sir,' Victor nodded. 'But it's no reason to call it off. Not yet at least.' He sat down beside Napoleon. 'And what does Colonel Buona Parte think? After all, it's his plan.'

The general looked at Napoleon and raised an eyebrow.'Well?'

'I say we go now, sir. Don't wait for the signal. The men have had enough standing around waiting. Leave them there much longer and it won't do much for their spirit.We don't know how long this weather will last. Could be hours, days, weeks. Who knows? Besides,' Napoleon looked at his general with a shrewd expression, 'I don't think that Saliceti and Freron, still less the Committee for Public Safety, are going to look on any delay favourably.'

'Civilians!' Brule spat. 'What the h.e.l.l do they know about military affairs?'

Napoleon shrugged. 'Not much, perhaps, but they know the mood of the mob in Paris, and they know the minds of the men of the Convention. France needs a victory. If we call off the attack then it doesn't take much imagination to work out how our political masters in Paris will react.'

'Hmm.'The general frowned.'Have you considered how much more they will be displeased, should the attack fail and we lose too many men?'

'Yes, sir. But that could happen at any time. I don't see how waiting until the weather has improved is going to better our chances.'

'No. That's true,' General Dugommier reflected, and then slapped a hand down on the table. 'Very well, we'll wait for another hour. But if there's no sign of Lapoye's signal by three o'clock, then I'm calling off the attack.'

Delaborde smiled and nodded his a.s.sent. Napoleon felt betrayed. If this was how France waged war then the conflict with the other nations of Europe was as good as lost.

'Back to your units, gentlemen. If there's no signal, I'll send word for you to order your men back to camp.'

As he made his way back to the fish market Napoleon's brow creased into a frown. The campaign to retake Toulon had been dogged by dithering commanders for long enough. If Paris was minded to make an example of those it held responsible for not pursuing the siege with enough vigour, then it was possible that Dugommier's immediate subordinates might be drawn into the net. Napoleon swore under his breath. If only he were in command. Then he'd order the attack at once, come rain, snow and ice. He stopped in his tracks, a sudden thought seizing his mind. It was very simple. The attack would go ahead. He would make it happen. Striding forwards again he hurried back to the fish market, and headed towards the church. Inside he stood at the bottom of the tower and called on Junot to descend and join him. After a quickly glance round to make sure that they would not be overheard Napoleon spoke quietly to his companion.

'Junot, the general intends to call off the attack.'

'Why? What for, sir?'

'The rain. He thinks it will bog our men down, and it means we might not see Lapoye's signal.'

'What if Lapoye has fired it already, and is waiting for our acknowledgement?'

'Yes,' Napoleon mused. 'That might be so. In which case the rain will be the ruin of us all.'

Junot smacked a fist against his thigh. 'd.a.m.n this weather! If only it would clear for a moment.'

'Let's a.s.sume it won't. Something has to be done, Junot. Someone has to make things happen.'

Juont looked at him cautiously. 'What are you suggesting, sir?'

'I want you to fire a green signal rocket.'

'What?'

'A green rocket. If Lapoye sees it, then the attack continues as planned. If he doesn't then at least our attack on Fort Mulgrave will go ahead.'

'And what if we fail, sir?'

Napoleon shrugged. 'Let's make sure we don't. Now then, Junot, are you with me on this?'

Lieutenant Junot thought for a moment and then nodded once. 'You've not let me down yet, sir. And I won't let you down.'

'Good.' Napoleon smiled, and clasped the other man's arm. 'That's good. If this goes badly for us, then you have my word that I will do everything I can to exculpate you.'

'There's no need for that, sir.'

'Thank you, Junot. Then let's waste no more time. Fire that rocket.'

Junot saluted and hurried from the church. Napoleon let him get a head start and then emerged into the market and trudged casually back towards the blacksmith. He resumed his place in front of the hearth and waited, his heart beating fast with antic.i.p.ation and excitement over the terrible risk he had just taken. The minutes pa.s.sed, and the rain continued to lash down. Then Napoleon heard a cry from outside the smithy.

'What's that?' One of the officers around the fire craned his neck to look outside.

A sergeant came running up. He stopped and saluted.'Colonel Buona Parte, sir.'

Napoleon twisted round. 'Yes?'

'It's the signal, sir. The green rocket.'

Even as he spoke there was a m.u.f.fled rumble, like thunder, as the batteries facing Fort Mulgrave opened fire, obedient to their orders. Any moment now the advance guard of General Dugommier's a.s.sault columns would be moving out of La Seyne and crossing the rainswept ground towards the enemy. Nothing could hold the attack back now, thought Napoleon. He had committed thousands of men to it. His fate was in their hands.

Chapter 80.

Apart from the distant roar of the guns no sound of battle carried across to the men of the reserve column as they remained in the fish market and shivered in the slashing rain. Napoleon was consumed with the need for some news, any news, of how the attack was progressing. He strode up and down one side of the market, hands clasped tightly behind his back and head tilted forward as his mind played out all the variables that could affect the a.s.sault on Fort Mulgrave. Junot and the other officers occasionally glanced at their mercurial young commanding officer, but no one attempted to speak with him, and they muttered quietly amongst themselves in the light-hearted manner that men preoccupied with thoughts of combat and death are inclined to affect.

Then, an hour after the rocket had been fired, a messenger arrived from General Dugommier. A young lieutenant, splattered with mud, ran into the market, looked round and saw the officers sheltering in the smithy. Napoleon had seen him arrive and marched up to join them.

'What news?'

'General's respects, sir.' The messenger was struggling for breath. 'He needs the reserve to advance . . . and support the attack.'

'What's happened?'

'Two of the columns lost their way. Brule and Victor's men marched right into each other.'

'How did it happen?' Napoleon said through clenched teeth, furious that his plan was being ruined. 'We marked the routes clearly enough.'

'The rain, sir. It washed away some of the pegs. The markings aren't there.'

's.h.i.t!' Napoleon took a deep breath to calm himself. 'What then?'

'I don't really know, sir,' the messenger replied helplessly. 'There's terrible confusion. Most of the men can't find their units, or their officers. Then we came up against one of the enemy outposts.We've tried to take it three times, and been thrown back. The general needs the reserve.You're the only organised force he has left.'

'Where's Delaborde?'