'Join the rear of the column!'
His boot came down on something solid, and with a start he realised he had stepped on a body. He forced himself to stride on regardless and moments later they reached the ditch that surrounded the outpost. His sword rasped from his scabbard and he thrust it over his head.
'Grenadiers! Forwards!'
The company surged across the ditch and began to scramble up the far slope. Ahead, behind breastworks, the dim shapes of the enemy's shakos were visible. But this time there was no well-trained volley of musket fire to destroy the ranks of Frenchmen. The drenching rain had seen to that. Instead the two sides met face to face and fought it out with bayonet, sword and trench tools. Unlike the earlier attacks, Napoleon's men came on in a solid wave, led by the grim-faced grenadiers.
'Pull down the gabions!' Napoleon shouted up the slope. 'Pull 'em down!'
A burly sergeant thrust his musket into the hands of one of his men, grasped the wicker rim, braced his legs and pulled with all his might. The heavy rain had softened the earth around the gabion, and slowly it loosened. With a grunt the sergeant turned it aside and let it slither down into the ditch. He wrenched the next one free and then there was a gap in the breastwork wide enough for two men to pass through. On the far side the enemy were closing up to defend the breach as the sergeant snatched his musket back and with a bull-like roar he charged through the gap.
'Come on!' Napoleon waved his sword. 'After him!'
The grenadiers scrambled forwards and threw themselves on the defenders. Napoleon was swept along with them and then he was inside the outpost. Around him the dark shapes of men grunted and swore as they thrust and slashed at what they took to be their enemy. Napoleon glanced round, saw the outline of a British shako and slashed his sword down. The blow landed with a thud, cutting through the hat and into the man's skull. He fell back with a cry and Napoleon stepped over the body and further into the outpost. Behind him some of the grenadiers were busy hauling aside more gabions to widen the gap as the rest of the column fed through and added to the tide of men overwhelming the defenders.
'They're running for it!' a voice shouted. Sure enough dark shapes were fleeing for the far rampart, hurling themselves across the breastwork and out of sight. Napoleon's men started to cheer. He sheathed his sword and shouted at them to be silent. There was no time to celebrate. Those men would warn the defenders of Fort Mulgrave of the approach of the column. He must give them as little time as possible to prepare.
'Grenadiers! Form ranks! Lieutenant Junot? Where are you? Junot!'
'Here, sir!' A figure squeezed his way through the men crowding the inside of the outpost.
'Junot, get down to the rest of the column. Lead them round the outpost and head for the fort. Send word to the general that we've taken this place. Tell him I'm heading straight for the fort. He can join me there.' Napoleon smiled for an instant. There he was, telling a superior officer old enough to be his father what to do. Still, he had enough faith in Dugommier to hope that the general would see the sense of it.
'Very well, sir,' Junot nodded, and then added, 'Watch yourself, sir.'
Napoleon discerned genuine concern in the man's tone and was surprised by the realisation that he had inspired a measure of devotion in his subordinate. He took the lieutenant's hand clumsily and gave it a brisk shake. 'You too, Junot. I'll see you in the fort.'
Then he turned away, and curtly gave the order to advance. He led the grenadiers across the outpost to the crude gateway that opened out on to a narrow causeway crossing the ditch. There ahead of them loomed the bulk of Fort Mulgrave, just visible through the shimmering veil of rain. Napoleon quickened his step into a steady trot and behind him the equipment on the grenadiers chinked and clattered as they kept up with him. He hoped that the rest of the column followed suit since the grenadier company would stand no chance on its own. From his earlier observation of the land Napoleon recalled that there were a few foothills to the north of the fort. They could conceal his approach and give them some chance at least of surprising the enemy.
He veered to his left and led the men into a shallow vale, and the fort disappeared from view. A figure appeared out of the darkness.
'Who's that?' Napoleon barked, tightening the grasp on his sword.
'Captain Muiron. And you?'
Muiron was attached to the general's staff, and Napoleon lowered his sword. 'Colonel Buona Parte.'
'Thank God, sir.' Muiron approached. 'The general's up ahead with some skirmishers.'
'What's he doing with the skirmishers?' Napoleon was astonished. Clearly Dugommier was a general who led from the front. 'He should be at headquarters.'
Muiron laughed. 'You can tell him that when you see him. He's found a point on the ramparts where there's only a handful of cannon. That's where he wants the reserve column to go in.' Muiron looked beyond Napoleon and saw the grenadier company halted behind him.'Where's the rest of the column, sir?'
'Coming up from La Seyne. Should be making their way round that outpost.' Napoleon pointed out the direction as best as he could estimate it. Muiron nodded.
'Very well, sir. I'll go and find them.They'll need to be guided to the general.'
'What about us?'
'Just follow this vale, sir. It bends round the fort and brings you out in front of the northern rampart, but you'll find the general and his men before you see the fort.'
'I hope so.'
'Good luck, sir.' Muiron saluted and then ran off to look for the rest of the column. Napoleon waved his arm. 'Forwards!'
General Dugommier hurried up to Napoleon the moment he caught sight of the grenadier company.
'Buona Parte, good to see you! Where's the rest of your men?'
As Napoleon quickly explained, Dugommier removed his hat and ran a hand through his soaked hair. He glanced back at the rampart and swore softly before turning back to Napoleon. 'There's not a moment to lose, Colonel. We have to attack now, and pray that the rest of your column reinforces us in time.'
Napoleon nodded. 'You're right, sir.'
'Let's go then. Spread your men out. No sense in making an easy target of ourselves.'
'Yes, sir.'
Napoleon formed the grenadiers up in open order, and together with the general's skirmishers the thin line moved off towards the rampart at a steady pace. The men kept their silence, staring ahead intently for any sign that they had been spotted but the ramparts seemed still and quiet. As Napoleon strode forwards at the side of Dugommier he instinctively hunched his head into his collar as if that might make him less easy to see and harder to hit. It was absurd, he realised, but he could not help himself.They were within musket range of the fort when two brilliant stabs of flame lit up the rampart, bathing the approaching men in a brief lurid orange glow before the sound of the cannon burst upon them. For an instant the line wavered, but the shots had passed harmlessly overhead and General Dugommier bellowed the order to charge.
Napoleon broke into a run, with grenadiers rushing towards the fort on either side. They reached the ditch, and saw at once the wicked dark points of spiked obstacles in the bed of the ditch. But the enemy had strewn them about too sparsely and the attackers passed through them quickly and began to climb the far slope.
The British gunners did not have enough time to reload and as the dark shapes rose up out of the darkness towards them they fell back from the rampart in panic, leaving a marine detachment to face the French alone. Napoleon made for one of the gun embrasures, crouching down so that the defenders could not see him. Keeping his sword in hand he awkwardly clambered up into the embrasure, slid over mud-slick soil and peered inside. Only a handful of the enemy were close by the gun.The rest were spread out on either side of the battery, bracing themselves for the assault. Napoleon turned back and hissed to the nearest grenadiers. 'Up here! This way.'