Several of the men climbed through the embrasure and crouched down between the guns as their comrades further along the rampart on either side kept the marines engaged.As soon as he had enough men to hand, Napoleon slipped down amongst them.
'When I give the word we charge up the line of the rampart and roll 'em up from the flank.We must break their spirit so make as much noise as you can. Everyone ready? Good…' Napoleon took a breath, tightened his grip on the sword hilt, and then rose to his feet.
'Charge!'
With a roar of pure blood-lust the grenadiers surged out from between the guns and ran down the inside of the rampart, bayonets lowered. The marines turned towards the sound, instantly distracted from the fight against the men outside the rampart. Napoleon thrust his sword at the nearest man, felt his blade parried away, but brushed past him and continued along the rampart as one of the grenadiers following him took the marine in the throat, plunging his bayonet up into the man's skull and dropping him instantly.They charged on, cutting down two more men before the enemy lost the will to fight and turned to flee from the rampart.
'Leave them!' Napoleon ordered. It would be dangerous to lose control of his small force while they were inside an enemy position and vastly outnumbered. 'Leave them, I said!'
The grenadiers pulled up, discipline taking control over their desire to chase down a beaten enemy. Napoleon leaned over the rampart. 'General! We have the wall.'
'Well done!' a voice called out of the darkness. 'I'll join you.'
As soon as the rest of the men had climbed into the fort Napoleon sought out the general.
'Sir, we have to prepare some defences. As soon as the fort's commander realises we're over the rampart he'll counterattack.'
'Of course he will.' Dugommier glanced round. The battery had been built on a small spur of land and was joined to the rest of the fort by a narrow gap between the walls. He pointed with his sword. 'That's where we'll hold them until Muiron turns up. Form the men across the gap.'
Napoleon nodded. 'Yes, sir.'
He gathered the grenadiers and skirmishers and led them into the position where they formed a line two deep, and waited in the teeming rain for the British to react. Meanwhile, the general sent a message to Muiron to inform him the rampart had been taken and urging him to bring up more men as swiftly as possible.
'Sir!' One of the grenadiers called to Napoleon. 'They're coming!'
A dense, dark column of infantry was crossing the open ground at the heart of the fortification. As they closed on Napoleon's small force he cleared his throat.
'Remember, lads, we must hold on until the rest of the column arrives. If we do that, then those bastards have lost, and the fort's ours.'
He turned back to face the enemy. On they came, at a steady pace until they were within pistol shot. Then their commander halted the column and formed them into line. There was a beat, as both sides glared at each other, then the order to charge roared out and the British swept forward, roaring their battle cry.
Napoleon gritted his teeth and crouched slightly, sword extended towards the enemy. On either side the grenadiers braced for the impact, rain dripping from the ends of their bayonets. Then a shadowy wave of men crashed into the French line. For a moment the grenadiers reeled under the impact, before they fought back, fighting wildly, slashing, stabbing with the points of their bayonets, and swinging the heavy butts at the enemy. There was no finesse in their actions, just a frenzied attempt to kill and to stay alive. Napoleon stepped into a gap between two of his grenadiers, sword poised. A dark shape lurched towards him, behind a long pike and he glimpsed three dull chevrons on the man's arm before he hacked at the shaft of the pike and drove it down and away from his chest.The sergeant grunted, yanked back on the pike, brought the point up and feinted once, twice, each time making Napoleon flinch back. The man growled and then thrust again, this time throwing his full weight into the charge. Napoleon parried the pike again, but an instant later the sergeant's body slammed into him, spinning him round and knocking him flat. He fell face first into the mud, and almost let go of his sword. Thrusting himself to one side with his spare hand Napoleon heard the point of the pike slap into the mud where his body had been lying an instant earlier. Napoleon slashed out with his sword, a low cut at knee height, and the blade hacked into the man's joint, severing tendons and shattering bone.The sergeant toppled over with a cry of pain. Napoleon slithered back, scrambling between the bodies and glanced at the struggling figures all about him. As soon as he was clear he rose to his feet and stared round, trying to gauge how the fight was going.
Already the British had driven them back from the narrow gap and more of their men were spilling round the flanks.With a sick feeling Napoleon realised they could not hold them here. The only chance lay on the rampart.
'Pull back!' he shouted. 'Pull back to the rampart!'
The grenadiers slowly gave ground as they continued to fight for their lives. As soon as he heard the order, General Dugommier scrambled down from the rampart, drew his sword and hurried over to Napoleon's side, just as the knot of Frenchmen were surrounded by the enemy. Now they would have to fight their way back to the rampart.
'Any sign of Muiron?' Napoleon asked.
'No.'
'Shit…'
'So it would appear.' Napoleon saw the general's teeth glimmer in a quick smile. 'Come on, Colonel. Let's show them how well Frenchmen can die.'
Dugommier shouldered his way into the fight, and began to hack and slash at the enemy. Napoleon shook his head in admiration for the old soldier, then tensed his muscles and strode towards the enemy. It was strange, some small rational part of his mind reflected, how afraid he was and yet he felt a sense of release. The plan no longer mattered. His career no longer mattered. There was a brief image of his family and he felt a stab of guilt for the grieving he would cause, and then all thought was gone as he bared his teeth and threw himself at the nearest enemy soldier.
Outnumbered, they edged towards the rampart, but every step of the way, more and more of the small group were cut down and splashed into the mud where they were finished off with the butt of a musket, or quick thrust of a bayonet. Napoleon, unable to take his eyes off the enemy swarming about him, sensed the rise of the ground under his boots and realised they had reached the rampart and there was no further room for retreat.This was where he would die.
'Come on, you bastards!' he shouted, beckoning to the enemy with his spare hand. Two of them responded, working towards him. One lunged and as Napoleon swung to parry the attack, he realised it was a feint. Before he could recover his balance the second man half sprang, half slithered towards him. Napoleon swung his sword back and just managed to deflect the point against his guard with a ringing blow.The blade was knocked low, but still found its target. Napoleon felt the impact, like someone had kicked him with all their strength, and then there was a white-hot stab of agony in his left calf as the bayonet tore through his muddy breeches and ripped into his flesh.
He cried out, and then cried out again as the enemy wrenched the bayonet free and drew it back for a direct thrust into the French officer's chest. As the point of the bayonet came forward, Napoleon raised his arm to try to ward the blow off. A dark shape came between them with a scraping clash of steel as General Dugommier hacked at the barrel of the musket, knocking the weapon from the enemy's grasp. He hacked again, this time at the soldier's shoulder, and the man crumpled to the ground. Even as Dugommier snarled in triumph he gasped as the other soldier who had attacked Napoleon stabbed at him from the side, thrusting the point of his bayonet through the general's sleeve and pinning his sword arm against his ribs. As the bayonet was wrenched free Dugommier collapsed beside Napoleon with an agonised gasp. Napoleon groped for his sword and raised it, trying to protect them both as the enemy closed round, ready to finish them off.