Post by Ladorak on Oct 16, 2012 23:49:19 GMT -5
Boneparte himself was soaked, and cold to boot, but he'd dressed warmly and his General's uniform allowed itself for much protection from the rain. While his overcoat took the brunt of it, he had wrapped his uniform particularly tight against his body to prevent water from gaining access to most of of his fur underneath.
He offered a smile at the squirrel as he mentioned his current appearance. "Well Cosnair is known for its rains in the autumn. Today and yesterday were particularly bad, but it's not anything I'm not used to I suppose. I USUALLY tried to be in the south of Rosferia or Personza by the time this month rolled around, but I haven't as of yet been able to leave the capital... for obvious reasons." he stated, glancing about him. "Thank you though... I'm doing everything I can to save us and our way of life." he told the rodent sincerely, giving him a reassuring look.
"Have I ever been through anything like this before?" he asked, repeating the question. The meerkat was now officially running on even less sleep than Sciurus, though he didn't really show it. He would feel like he'd been kicked to the ground tonight, of that he had no doubt, but right now his nerves were wound tight, and he'd been busy all throughout the night and most of the day, even though the work had petered out as the day wore on. Nonetheless, he'd taken it upon himself to become the most active of Barras's deputies.
"I don't know... perhaps before the storming of Fort Mulgrave at Toulon... but that was two years ago now, and it seems like a lifetime to me. So much has happened between then and now. My life was so... different back then, as were my views. Being 24 is different from 25 and 26. That's the only major battle I've fought personally in. Received a very nasty cut to my inner thigh, and couldn't walk properly for a few days, but that went away with time." he explained, gesturing down to his leg. "That was an all night battle... or most of the night at least. We eventually just collapsed from exhaustion and weren't able to properly pursue the retreating enemy... that and they were using one of our massive 120 gunned ships against us, covering their embarkation on the beaches." the meerkat described.
"I just honestly can't remember now though. I think I was more determined than anything else. This... this is different, yes. Back then I was fighting a foreign enemy that had captured our shores and was serving to anger a lot of us over that. This is... I suppose not unlike how I envision the Vendée in a way, except it's going to be an urban battle." The falling rain began to decrease further, and soon, it was stopping outright.
"We should get ready." Boneparte said with some concern. "I think they may be coming soon. We have to meet fire with fire. I recommend you get inside... unless of course you want to be out here. I won't stop you if that's the case... just know that my job is to prevent them from reaching the palace windows... that was the big weak spot of the Tuileries last time. If they swarm the windows, the palace is completely compromised." He adjusted the bicorne on his head and gave a determined look out to gardens and his soldiers stationed within.
He then turned back to Sciurus, took the squirrel's paw, and grasped his arm tightly. "I'll see you on the other side. Good luck." he said, firmly shaking his friend's paw. No words of defeat or doubt infringed on Boneparte's voice, and he turned to mount his horse. Getting atop it and looking around, he spoke in a raised tone.
"Get ready boys! They'll be coming soon! Rain didn't scare 'em away! Stay ready!" he called out. Clopping over the cobblestones, the meerkat rode toward the middle of the gardens, though stopped before entering them, wanting to set up just in front of the Tuileries. "Light fuses! I want all matches lit and the guns ready to go off on my order!" Already the shouts and chants of the riotous mob could be heard. They were like a wave, advancing steadily from the north and down the streets. They saw the guns of course, but did not stop. "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Boneparte shouted, circling his horse around to keep it moving but stationary at the same time.
Down one of the main avenues came a royalist bearing a white flag, out ahead of the others, though Boneparte doubted it was to ask to surrender. They wouldn't be waving their guns and chanting "Vive le Roi!" if that were the case. And did the "Vive le Rois" ever flow. All around them, seeming to come from everywhere at once was "Vive le Roi!" Just what King they were chanting about was hard to say. Charles and Augustine were both vying for the throne now, though it seemed as if Charles had beaten his older brother to the punch by landing on the Ile d'Yeu while Augustine was still in exile in Verona. Augustine's only stance was "a return to the days of old; the monarchy, which were the glory days of Rosferia." The hell with that idea.
Boneparte rode toward the approaching royalist, though wasn't so foolish as to ride beyond his own lines. "What do you want? Make it quick! I don't entertain traitors!" he shouted.
"You're one to talk! Excluding us from the vote! We're giving you one chance to surrender and lay down your guns! We won't harm or kill any of you if you simply give us the Convention and its deputies inside the Tuileries! You and I both know that neither of us want to see any killing in the streets of Cosnair. To whom am I speaking?"
"General Boneparte Lantzer! Don't be ridiculous." Boneparte shot back. "If that were the case, why arm yourselves and prepare to BRING this violence you claim to abhor into the streets of Cosnair? I'm giving you... ALL OF YOU one chance to disperse. If you ignore this order you will be fired on and we will defend ourselves if attacked. Attacking the Tuileries is treason and is against the Constitution established by Rosferia. Disperse now! Go home! Only warning!" Boneparte ordered, giving them all an icy glare as he swiveled his gray-blue eyes from one to the other in the crowd.
"Hah! Knew you'd say that! We'll enjoy peeling your skin off yer bones meerkat!" The flag bearer turned and began running back to his own lines, dropping his flag. Boneparte narrowed his eyes, but gave no order at present.
For a moment, soldiers and mob stared at each other, the mob apparently confident in their situation despite Boneparte's guns. The mob had successfully stormed the palace once before, and had done so to the Convention two years ago as well. However, their last attempt had not gone so well, and General Pichegru had managed to disperse them rather successfully with threats of force. Pichegru had had 70,000 soldiers backing him up though. Boneparte had only 6,000, counting the 1,000 Jacobins that Barras had armed. The situation was different, but the meerkat felt the artillery would make all the difference all the same.
Finally, the standoff ended with a cry of "POUR LE ROI!" and the crowd surged forward.
"Wait!" Boneparte called out. "Not yet! Not yet!" Down the broad avenues the crowds charged, moving down side streets to come out of alleys and small cul-de-sacs to approach the gardens. "NOW! LIGHT 'EM UP! OPEN FIRE! ALL GUNS!" Boneparte called, letting the crowd advance to within 100 feet before the guns roared out. This way, the grape and canister shot was given the best effect. All up and down the lines, the artillery boomed forth, white clouds belching from the muzzles as the guns recoiled and rolled back a few feet, discharging their payload into the angry horde.
The effect was terrifying and yet decisive all in one motion. Countless creatures in the mob were simply blown away by the "shotgun" type blasts from these 8 pounders. Their bodies disintegrated and were shredded and mangled in an instant. The Republican troops followed it up with well disciplined and crushing volleys from their muskets. The first row fired, then the second, then the third, delivering a well directed fire into the swarming mass.
The royalists began to fire back, a few Republican troops falling here and there behind the barricades, but for every Army of the Interior solider to fall, the Republicans blew away at least 30 or more of their enemy. The troops reloaded as did the gunners, and the royalists charged again, cries of "Vive le Roi!" intermingled with "Vive la Republique!" as Boneparte's soldiers began to gain heart. Boneparte knew the royalists were a crazed, fanatical lot, and one massive show of force wouldn't discourage them. They'd keep coming again and again, and some managed to wind their way down the narrow side streets to attack the barricades where there was no artillery.
In these instances, paw-to-paw fighting ensued, though the Republicans always managed to fire from the third and second ranks, and though swords, axes, the butts of muskets, and bayonets were used with wild abandon on both sides, the barricades held and the royalists were always forced back after each charge. The guns boomed forth a second time, then a third. Each time countless royalists were cut down, but on they came, confident in their superior numbers and resolve. Each time they were driven back however, and Boneparte's racing heart was able to gradually slow after the first fifteen or twenty minutes or so of the battle.
His lines were holding! THEIR lines were holding! The Republicans didn't flinch in their determination, and not a single one fled the lines either. They stood their ground and repeated their well rehearsed fire over and over again, holding strong and not backing down.
To the south of them, the guns opened up as well on the bridges over the Seine. The royalists were attempting to charge the bridges now from there, but as in the north, they were stopped cold in their tracks. The ones moving along the quay between the Louvre and Seine (having crossed at the captured Pont Neuf) were met with a single gun and volleys of musketry that turned that narrow street into a bottleneck and killing zone.
Glancing around, Boneparte wondered if Sciurus had elected to remain outside or was currently indoors, in which case the meerkat wouldn't see him anyway. He rode up and down the lines, but overall, found he really didn't need to shore up any weak points in his defenses. They were all holding just fine, building confidence on their side while it chipped away morale on the enemy's. The royalist loss was the Republicans' gain.
He offered a smile at the squirrel as he mentioned his current appearance. "Well Cosnair is known for its rains in the autumn. Today and yesterday were particularly bad, but it's not anything I'm not used to I suppose. I USUALLY tried to be in the south of Rosferia or Personza by the time this month rolled around, but I haven't as of yet been able to leave the capital... for obvious reasons." he stated, glancing about him. "Thank you though... I'm doing everything I can to save us and our way of life." he told the rodent sincerely, giving him a reassuring look.
"Have I ever been through anything like this before?" he asked, repeating the question. The meerkat was now officially running on even less sleep than Sciurus, though he didn't really show it. He would feel like he'd been kicked to the ground tonight, of that he had no doubt, but right now his nerves were wound tight, and he'd been busy all throughout the night and most of the day, even though the work had petered out as the day wore on. Nonetheless, he'd taken it upon himself to become the most active of Barras's deputies.
"I don't know... perhaps before the storming of Fort Mulgrave at Toulon... but that was two years ago now, and it seems like a lifetime to me. So much has happened between then and now. My life was so... different back then, as were my views. Being 24 is different from 25 and 26. That's the only major battle I've fought personally in. Received a very nasty cut to my inner thigh, and couldn't walk properly for a few days, but that went away with time." he explained, gesturing down to his leg. "That was an all night battle... or most of the night at least. We eventually just collapsed from exhaustion and weren't able to properly pursue the retreating enemy... that and they were using one of our massive 120 gunned ships against us, covering their embarkation on the beaches." the meerkat described.
"I just honestly can't remember now though. I think I was more determined than anything else. This... this is different, yes. Back then I was fighting a foreign enemy that had captured our shores and was serving to anger a lot of us over that. This is... I suppose not unlike how I envision the Vendée in a way, except it's going to be an urban battle." The falling rain began to decrease further, and soon, it was stopping outright.
"We should get ready." Boneparte said with some concern. "I think they may be coming soon. We have to meet fire with fire. I recommend you get inside... unless of course you want to be out here. I won't stop you if that's the case... just know that my job is to prevent them from reaching the palace windows... that was the big weak spot of the Tuileries last time. If they swarm the windows, the palace is completely compromised." He adjusted the bicorne on his head and gave a determined look out to gardens and his soldiers stationed within.
He then turned back to Sciurus, took the squirrel's paw, and grasped his arm tightly. "I'll see you on the other side. Good luck." he said, firmly shaking his friend's paw. No words of defeat or doubt infringed on Boneparte's voice, and he turned to mount his horse. Getting atop it and looking around, he spoke in a raised tone.
"Get ready boys! They'll be coming soon! Rain didn't scare 'em away! Stay ready!" he called out. Clopping over the cobblestones, the meerkat rode toward the middle of the gardens, though stopped before entering them, wanting to set up just in front of the Tuileries. "Light fuses! I want all matches lit and the guns ready to go off on my order!" Already the shouts and chants of the riotous mob could be heard. They were like a wave, advancing steadily from the north and down the streets. They saw the guns of course, but did not stop. "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Boneparte shouted, circling his horse around to keep it moving but stationary at the same time.
Down one of the main avenues came a royalist bearing a white flag, out ahead of the others, though Boneparte doubted it was to ask to surrender. They wouldn't be waving their guns and chanting "Vive le Roi!" if that were the case. And did the "Vive le Rois" ever flow. All around them, seeming to come from everywhere at once was "Vive le Roi!" Just what King they were chanting about was hard to say. Charles and Augustine were both vying for the throne now, though it seemed as if Charles had beaten his older brother to the punch by landing on the Ile d'Yeu while Augustine was still in exile in Verona. Augustine's only stance was "a return to the days of old; the monarchy, which were the glory days of Rosferia." The hell with that idea.
Boneparte rode toward the approaching royalist, though wasn't so foolish as to ride beyond his own lines. "What do you want? Make it quick! I don't entertain traitors!" he shouted.
"You're one to talk! Excluding us from the vote! We're giving you one chance to surrender and lay down your guns! We won't harm or kill any of you if you simply give us the Convention and its deputies inside the Tuileries! You and I both know that neither of us want to see any killing in the streets of Cosnair. To whom am I speaking?"
"General Boneparte Lantzer! Don't be ridiculous." Boneparte shot back. "If that were the case, why arm yourselves and prepare to BRING this violence you claim to abhor into the streets of Cosnair? I'm giving you... ALL OF YOU one chance to disperse. If you ignore this order you will be fired on and we will defend ourselves if attacked. Attacking the Tuileries is treason and is against the Constitution established by Rosferia. Disperse now! Go home! Only warning!" Boneparte ordered, giving them all an icy glare as he swiveled his gray-blue eyes from one to the other in the crowd.
"Hah! Knew you'd say that! We'll enjoy peeling your skin off yer bones meerkat!" The flag bearer turned and began running back to his own lines, dropping his flag. Boneparte narrowed his eyes, but gave no order at present.
For a moment, soldiers and mob stared at each other, the mob apparently confident in their situation despite Boneparte's guns. The mob had successfully stormed the palace once before, and had done so to the Convention two years ago as well. However, their last attempt had not gone so well, and General Pichegru had managed to disperse them rather successfully with threats of force. Pichegru had had 70,000 soldiers backing him up though. Boneparte had only 6,000, counting the 1,000 Jacobins that Barras had armed. The situation was different, but the meerkat felt the artillery would make all the difference all the same.
Finally, the standoff ended with a cry of "POUR LE ROI!" and the crowd surged forward.
"Wait!" Boneparte called out. "Not yet! Not yet!" Down the broad avenues the crowds charged, moving down side streets to come out of alleys and small cul-de-sacs to approach the gardens. "NOW! LIGHT 'EM UP! OPEN FIRE! ALL GUNS!" Boneparte called, letting the crowd advance to within 100 feet before the guns roared out. This way, the grape and canister shot was given the best effect. All up and down the lines, the artillery boomed forth, white clouds belching from the muzzles as the guns recoiled and rolled back a few feet, discharging their payload into the angry horde.
The effect was terrifying and yet decisive all in one motion. Countless creatures in the mob were simply blown away by the "shotgun" type blasts from these 8 pounders. Their bodies disintegrated and were shredded and mangled in an instant. The Republican troops followed it up with well disciplined and crushing volleys from their muskets. The first row fired, then the second, then the third, delivering a well directed fire into the swarming mass.
The royalists began to fire back, a few Republican troops falling here and there behind the barricades, but for every Army of the Interior solider to fall, the Republicans blew away at least 30 or more of their enemy. The troops reloaded as did the gunners, and the royalists charged again, cries of "Vive le Roi!" intermingled with "Vive la Republique!" as Boneparte's soldiers began to gain heart. Boneparte knew the royalists were a crazed, fanatical lot, and one massive show of force wouldn't discourage them. They'd keep coming again and again, and some managed to wind their way down the narrow side streets to attack the barricades where there was no artillery.
In these instances, paw-to-paw fighting ensued, though the Republicans always managed to fire from the third and second ranks, and though swords, axes, the butts of muskets, and bayonets were used with wild abandon on both sides, the barricades held and the royalists were always forced back after each charge. The guns boomed forth a second time, then a third. Each time countless royalists were cut down, but on they came, confident in their superior numbers and resolve. Each time they were driven back however, and Boneparte's racing heart was able to gradually slow after the first fifteen or twenty minutes or so of the battle.
His lines were holding! THEIR lines were holding! The Republicans didn't flinch in their determination, and not a single one fled the lines either. They stood their ground and repeated their well rehearsed fire over and over again, holding strong and not backing down.
To the south of them, the guns opened up as well on the bridges over the Seine. The royalists were attempting to charge the bridges now from there, but as in the north, they were stopped cold in their tracks. The ones moving along the quay between the Louvre and Seine (having crossed at the captured Pont Neuf) were met with a single gun and volleys of musketry that turned that narrow street into a bottleneck and killing zone.
Glancing around, Boneparte wondered if Sciurus had elected to remain outside or was currently indoors, in which case the meerkat wouldn't see him anyway. He rode up and down the lines, but overall, found he really didn't need to shore up any weak points in his defenses. They were all holding just fine, building confidence on their side while it chipped away morale on the enemy's. The royalist loss was the Republicans' gain.