VIVE L'EMPEREUR! Glory of the Eagles

Machiavellian Of course this will include perspectives from other countries, i did say this is a sequel to Pax Britainnica


A large ship of the line returned to Toulon several weeks after the rebellion in Corsica, which was bloodily put down the French government forces. Paoli was sent back to England, doomed to live a life of Obscurity.

The young Captain Napoleon quickly left his ship when it reached toulon, heading for his post in the 4th artillery regiment stationed just outside the city. As the young captain ran through the streets, he could see that the revolution had entered a new phase. Government soldiers were everywhere, running about with muskets and bayonets in hand. Napoleon saw a local merchant beaten to a bloody pulp. He was declared a "despot" for overcharging the prices for the French soldiers, and that automatically made him an enemy of the people.

It didn't take long for the young captain to figure out what was happening. Napoleon quickly bought a newspaper from one of the merchant carts and started reading...

France now had a new government, the Committee of Public safety. "Public Safety" Napoleon guessed, was whatever suited the needs of the new leader, Maximilien Robespierre.

Napoleon knew Robespierre, a former lawyer from Arras, and as he continued reading, the very thought of that man sent chills down his spine. According to Robespierre, to save France, the nation must be purified of all traitors, dishonesty and immorality by any means, Including mass murder.

A reign of terror was declared, and the process of law was wiped out. Now one only needed "Moral proof" to condemn a man to death on the grounds of treason. No one was safe. If someone was thought to even remotely support the king, then they were killed. If someone sold bad wine to soldiers, they were killed. All died as "enemies of the people".

Napoleon's stomach turned as he read more headlines. "massacres in vendee", "Mass Executions in Nantes."
At Nantes, 2,000 victims were tied up and gagged, then towed to the middle of the Loire river and thrown overboard, left to drown. Hundreds more were herded into groups and then bayoneted or shot........

Napoleon put down the paper in disgust, there was nothing he could do now however, but rejoin his regiment. And so the captain navigated his way through the chaos in the streets, praying he would make it through alive...



Lieutenant Jean Renes paced back and forth along the lines of his regiment. The men were smartly at attention in their blue uniforms, Muskets and stocks in perfect order. It was almost dawn and Jean looked up to watch a flock of birds fly above the square, the sky was an unnatural yellow.

Crowds gathered around the square, in the center was a huge platform, where a large board and two posts stood. The posts held up a blade...A triangular blade which glistened in the rays of the dying sun, as it was covered in fresh blood. Jean detested the guillotine, not just because it represented all that the terror stood for, but it was a cold intimidating device. Science and barbarism all combined to create this end product, a souless killing machine.

Executions around the Guillotine quickly became a popular form of entertainment. There were grandstands constructed, peddlers selling wine and cheese to the audeience, while women sang and danced everywhere. A statue of liberty overlooked the Paris Guilotine, while gardens and streets were littered with liberty trees. The people too, were caught in this, all had to wear the red cap that represented liberty. Those that didn't, did so at their own discretion.

The Carriage arrived slowly, as the crowd gradually gave way to form a small path which led to the middle of the square. Four horses pulled the magnificient carriage into the square, where it stopped just in front of the guillotine.

A moment of silence occured, that is, until Louis XVI stepped out.
The crowd jeered, cursed and hooted as the king made his way out.

Jean had been standing at the bottom of the stairway in front of the cart, and he watched curiously as the king paid no heed to the crowds contempt.

As soon as the king descended from the carriage, three executioners surrounded him and wished to take off his coat. He repulsed them with dignity and took it off himself. The executioners, paying no heed to his defiance, then forcibly took the king by his arms.

"What are you trying to do?" Louis asked furiously.

"Tie you." One of the executioners spoke Stoically.

"Tie me!” Louis replied in an annoyed tone “No, I will never consent; do what you are ordered to do, but I will not be tied; renounce that idea.”

“Sire,” One of his aides said to him with tears, “in this new outrage I see only a final resemblance between Your Majesty and the Saviour who is to reward you.”

At these words the King lifted his eyes to heaven with a sorrowing look and, turning to the executioners, said: “Do what you wish; I will drain the cup to the dregs.”

The king slowly made his ascent up the stairs, which were very steep. Clinging onto the arm of an aide for assistance. Some wondered whether the king was truly afraid or not, but that was cast aside as Louis XVI ran over the last step, looked at the crowd defiantly and put his hand to his chest. he then ushered his last words witha voice so strong that it could be heard a few blocks away, he distinctly pronounce these words forever memorable: “I die innocent of all the crimes imputed to me. I pardon the authors of my death, and pray God that the blood you are about to shed will never fall upon France.”

The executioners seized him, tied him to the board, and let the blade drop, his head fell at fifteen minutes after ten. The executioners seized it by the hair, and showed it to the multitude, whose cries of “Long live the Republic!” resounded to the very bosom of the Convention, whose place of meeting was only a few steps from the place of execution.

Jean sighed as he watched the display, and truly wondered if the king's words would come true, that the blood of all the victims of the terror would truly come back upon them like a punishment from god.

The crowd continued cheering, and Jean was lost in his thoughts.....

Up Next: The revolts of Toulon and Vendee
The end of the terror: Enter the Directory

Soon they will be saying Emperor

Also, I've finished playing up to the Italian campaign but it took me longer than i expected, so should i Invade egypt or not? its currently 1800 in my game, and i have lots of interesting things to write about

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The Campaign in belgium continues with great success against the Austrians. General Davout won a brilliant victory in April 1793 over a similarly sized austrian force under Alvintzi and completed annihilated them at the second battle of Brabrant, costing Austria one of her best generals. French successes were almost matched with French failures as a 40,000 french force faced similar annihilation at the hands of the Palanitat, which managed to field of army of 80,000 men (!). General Davout and Macdonald were able to annihilate that army in a similar fashion at the Battle of Mainz, October 1793...

With the execution of King Louis, Vendee, Toulon and many western provinces have risen in revolt. Napoleon now reports for duty at Toulon......



"...For valour in the field of battle and bravery in the face of great odds, the republic hereby appoints Napoleon Bonaparte as major of the 4th regiment...." Napoleon scanned the rest of the letter before throwing it away in the mud. Major! indeed! He scoffed because the only reason he got promoted was because the major and colonel of the regiment were both dead. An unfortunate byproduct of war. And now Napoleon felt cheated, for he was not content in merely filling a dead man's shoes. No matter.....

Guns boomed around him as the French army surrounded the French port city of Toulon. Spires of smoke rose from the city as howitzers, thirty two pounders and every type of artillery was firing at the city walls. Day by day the bombardment continued, and the pile of charred and burnt corpses continued to grow at the base of the walls. Napoleon shook his head in dismay...

This type of scene was typical throughout france, as the famous Chouan engulfed the French countryside, and turned the entire country into a battleground for guerillas. The Government was fighting two wars at once, one abroad with the first coalition, and another on the inside. Three armies totalling 120,000 rebels formed throughout the country, one of them being in Toulon. The rebellion in the west was mainly due to the republic's harsh treatment of the church. The Terrorists who were in power believed in god, but not in any particular religion, indeed, they saw the catholic church as enemeis of the people, who used superstitions to rob people and keep them ignorant. Thousands of churches throughout france were burnt, while hundreds of priests died, drowned in batches or just shot in the streets. Services were forbidden and church property was confiscated to better aid the war effort.

The peasants of Vendee and the west, who still held Christianity as their true faith, rebelled. They repaid the terrorists with their own terror. Captured republican soldiers were shown no mercy. Many were tortured, torn to pieces, crucified or castrated. Napoleon himself knew of a peasant leader who said prayers on an altar made of soldiers' bodies. Yet, despite all that, the republic was now ready for war. France began to adopt a policy of total war, where everyone took part in the effort to free france of enemies. Unmarried men that were old enough to serve were immediately drafted into the army, allowing france to outnumber the small professional armies of the allies. Women worked in factories, making muskets, shoes, clothes, bandages, while children were taught how to look for saltpeter, an important ingredient for gunpowder. A new spirit was overtaking France like a storm, people were convincing themselves of the righteousness of their cause, to free Europe from the grip of Tyrants, monarchs and despots alike. It was to be a crusade unlike any other in human history, a world crusade for the rights of man........

Napoleon quickly snapped out his telescope and aimed it towards the enemy fortress. The toulon harbor was divided in two by a narrow neck of land. Several forts guarded the town and the French army was spending the time trying to crack each fort individually one by one. yet they were no where near the largest fort in the center of the harbour. Known as "little gibraltar", this fort was said to be as strong as Britain's mountain fortress in Spain's southern coast. Weeks of savage fighting had produced no results save a mountain of dead and twice that number wounded. Napoleon could see why. The artillerymen were novices at their tools. Napoleon shook his head in disbelief as he saw three artillerymen ram a fresh cartridge into an unclean barrel of a gun, only to see it blow up in their faces as they fired it. The Major resolved to do this right, he began to walk to the commandants tent.

Napoleon had spent the last few days surveying the scene and he indeed felt that he had a plan to stop this madness. The Major took great steps back towards the camp. His boots making slushing sounds as he waded through the mud and bodies. His ears were deafened by the continuous boom of artillery and the screams of a newly failed assault on the forts. The Major sighed and quickened his pace......


Generals Jean Carteaux and Francois Doppet looked silently over the map of the harbour, running their fingers along the map to outline the defensive parameters set by the Pro-bourbon force in the city.

"So this man claims he knows what he is doing?" General Doppet frowned as he puffed smoke from his long cigar.

"He is an artillery officer sir, so i believe that his expertise is helpful in besieging a city." Eugene, now a Full Colonel stood up at attention in front of the table, the tent walls were littered with maps and standards, while General Carteaux kept his personal chair covered in silk in the corner.

"Ah! but is he experience?" Doppet leaned foward quizzically, trying to extract the truth out of eugene, for he simply did not believe that there was going to be a break in the siege any time soon.

"He is the best man we've got in the fourth." Eugene said confidently, smiling ear to ear. "put down a rebellion without even firing a shot."

"Major Bonaparte did?" Carteaux was still suspicious.

"I was there sir, i wouldn't have lived to become a colonel if he didn't act!" Eugene was formerly a captain, and talent or no talent, he knew that Napoleon had saved his life back in Vendee.

"Bah, well we might as well hear the suggestions, send the man in!" Doppet gestured to the aide, who led the young major into the room. Carteaux was surprised by how young the man was, and scoffed as the major saluted the two men.

"I suppose you have some miracle plan that will end this siege Major?" Doppet puffed another ring of smoke out from his mouth, the cigar was getting shorter now, and he quickly threw it out. He lit another cigar with great profficiency, placing it at the edge of his mouth.

"I can assure you monsieurs, that you will be more than satisfied with my plan of action. If you take a look at this map sir..." Napoleon walked up to the table, and then forcibly put his finger on the big star which lay in the center. "Little Gibraltar sir, is the key to Toulon. I propose we concentrate our efforts here."

"Do we have enough Cannon?" Carteaux asked.

"Ten Batteries of Cannon will do the trick sir, and i know that there is a depot of guns several miles from here in the country." He ran his finger along the road which lead from Toulon to Marseilles, the old royalist navy used this coast to supply their navy, it only made sense that artillery depots would exist.

"and say that we take this fortress..." Doppet scoffed. "How do you propose we win the battle then?"

"There is no need to propose anything sir, the battle will be over by then."

Doppet's jaw dropped. It was so simple....Why didn't he think of it in the first place! Since Little Gibraltar was at the mouth of the harbour, taking it would allow french cannon to dominate the harbour, and thus threaten the Bourbon fleet and small forts which ringed the harbour. They would have to either withdraw, or lose everything.

"We shall proceed tomorrow." General Carteaux smirked, rolling the map up. "I suppose we can make you the commander of our artillery. Our last one got injured, poor man, lost his arm to grapeshot." Napoleon showed no emotion on his face, but deep inside, he felt excited, for he had the chance to put his energies to full use.

"Depending on the success of this venture Major, i can envision great things for you in the future, great things." Carteaux smiled, then saluted, and Napoleon promptly returned the salute.

"See to it that the job is done." Carteaux took the map and threw it onto his study desk. "As for the rest of you, prep our infantry for an assault! Monsieur Bonaparte is to clear the way!" The men nodded. "Dismissed!"

"Long live the Republic!" The men shouted together in unison, before going to work.



The French attack changed completely for the next few days. Intending to soften up the main fort, Napoleon concentrated almost all of his artillery towards its great walls. Full of Energy, Napoleon worked Day and night, signing forms for more ammunition, for delivery of guns, while scouring the countryside for more cannon. Those cannon that were found were pulled by horse brigades which he organized, and when there weren't any horses availible, he grabbed a rope and helped the men haul the guns into position. Then he began training the crews on how to operate them, how to clean the barrels, priming the guns and loading the cartridges in. It was a big accomplishment in itself and after a week, the French were firing like pros into the walls of the terrified garrison.

The French threw everything at the fort. Shot, shells, grapeshots, canister. Explosions raked the fort, sending chunks of stone and masonry flying all over the place. Soldiers, their clothes and bodies lit on fire, thrashed around on the ground screaming. Other men were simply blown to pieces. An unfortunate defender was found under a tree, his remaining half of his body naked as he was blown out of his clothes. Limbs were torn off by the suction of an explosion, while others were charred beyond recognition.

Within a week, the assault began. French infantry began a slow march up the hill and there was a pause in the artillery. The defenders were flabbergasted as they found that they had no way of defending themselves. Most of the garrison was killed in the bombardment, while their cannon were either destroyed or lacked ammunition. The French soldiers got closer, a large mass of bayonets and blue uniforms slowly making their way towards the beleaguered defenders.


A hail of musketry sounded from the fort, dropping the advancing French, but they still continued onto the breach, until finally, at one hundred yards, the men broke ranks and ran with their bayonets into the fort, shouting at the top of their lungs. The defenders broke easily, and many men dropped to their knees begging for mercy, and got a bayonet in the chest as a reward. Others fought on bitterly till the end, stopping only to jump off the fortress cliff rather than submit to their foes. Fighting lasted only a few hours before the fort fell, and within twenty four hours, the rebels surrendered, many escaping via allied ships in the harbour.

The troops cheered, waving their hates and bayonets in the air. Napoleon took a deep breath of the air around him, chin held up high. The air smelled of acid, gunpowder, sweat and blood, yet it was the sweetest smell he had ever experienced, it was the smell of victory......



Lieutenant Jean Renes could not believe what he was seeing......miles around the houses of the countryside were torched. Wine orchards burnt like a scene from hell, while charred bodies hung from nearby trees. Jean prayed as his regiment passed his house, prayed that none of his family got caught....

The cottage was empty....its windows smashed while the door was flung open, a trail of silver and tapestry streaming out of the doorstep and onto the road.....but no bodies. Thank god, Jean thought.....he looked at the city of toulon up ahead, or what was left of it. A towering inferno of smoke and ash filled the sky, it was as if god himself had struck down the city, and all that was left was a fiery crater......

The streets of Toulon were littered with dead...many french soldiers who participated in the failed assaults. Hungry men,women and children marched sorrowfully down the streets, some were naked while others were in raggeds. Everyone's face was pinched with hunger and worry....

The regiment paused at a town square, and Jean took a deep breath as he realized that the scenes from paris would repeat themselves yet again. For in the center of the square was a herd of civilians. Civilians who were identified as those that aided the enemy in the previous siege. Jean looked on worriedy, he recognized a few neighbours in the crowd, and prayed for their souls, but he saw no sign of his mother and father......... Then the killing began..

There was no need for formalities, the prisoners were just herded together and shot. Jean flinched as he saw two companies of blue coated men fire their volley into a crowd of pleeing citizens, many of whom went on their knees crying. Some went down praying, praying to god for mercy in another life. The square filled with screams and cries as mothers clung onto their babies in their final death throes. Blood splattered up into the air as hundreds of musket balls whipped through the crowd. Jean turned away from the blood, and saw the artillery commander standing next to him. the expression on his face was similar to what jean was feeling. They were both standing there, disgusted, unable to help and unwilling to protest. Jean pretended to look away, but the screams forced him to turn back at the crowd. He shivered.

The final body dropped in the square, and there was silence.....

A young French Captain stepped out of the ranks. The man seemed to be in his late thirties, with a handsome face and blond hair. He stepped forward, magnificient sword unsheathed and walking slowly towards the crowd.

"For those that are still alive! The Republican will pardon you, for you have learnt your lesson, you need only stand up to receive the mercy of the people."

Jean watched as twenty or so survivors stood up....and he gasped as he saw his mother and father among the survivors! His father had a bullet shot thorugh his shoulder, while his mother was miraculously unscathed. A sigh of relief hit jean, thank god that reason had prevailed!

The young artillery commander turned to ask Jean. "Are they aquaintances of yours citizen?"

"Yes....yes they are..." Jean was in disbelief... but he was happy.

The French Captain in the square smiled. "Excellent." He walked foward slowly, branishing his sword, while other men followed him. Jean stopped.

The Captain walked closer to one of the men, and then suddenly, lunged forward! Burying his sword into the helpless man's chest. "NO QUARTER!" He shouted, the french cheered and the mobs of soldiers ran towards the remaining survivors, bayonets in hand.

The young artillery officer cringed. While Jean ran with them, pushing his way through the crowd to save his parents but he was simply not enough. He got close enough to see his mother one last time, his father having already been stabbed by the captain. There were tears in her eyes...and she cried as she saw Jean for the last time, before being pulled under the sea of bayonets and men.......

The lieutenant stopped, but the massacre continued......and by the time he got to the center....he couldn't tell which corpse was his mother's anymore..

Desperately holding back his tears....the Lieutenant ran towards the french captain who initiated the slaughter. The handsome man turned around.

"Greetings citizen, i hope that this day was most satisfying to you." The man grinned....he had plenty of scars on him, to show that he was a veteran of many battles.

"Might I ask sir, the purpose in this..this slaughter?!" Jean pointed fervently at the masses of dead in the square center.

"Why monsieur, to save the republic! I would be expected to do nothing else." The man grinned. Any further questioning would be useless, and would only convince the man that Jean was a viable scapegoat for more blood.

"Do not worry, such things are normal in war. Why in India, we slaughtered the redcoats in squares like dogs, and do you know why it happens?" The man was obviously enjoying this conversation, for he wanted to assert his superiority very quickly. "We do this to horrify the bastards, to horrify them so much that they will lose their balls and go scampering home to their mothers! That is why we do this!" The man laughed.

"In any case, you seem like an interesting fellow" The man talked with heavy sarcasm, He noted that the man was a lieutenant yet he was extremely young. "What regiment are you from?"

"The 45th sir." Jean replied coldly, he tried hard to hold back his rage, which was consuming him by the minute.

"You have no idea how lucky you are now! back then when those royalist bastards ran the place, you had to spend ten years just to reach a sargeant.. ten years!" The captain laughed again, then held out his hand. "Captain Adrienne at your service monsieur."

Jean shook the man's hand very tightly, but Adrienne still smiled. "Perhaps we shall meet again Lieutenant, but unfortunately i must go, good day."

Adrienne....Adrienne, Jean would remember that name....for one day he would take his revenge....but for now.. he could do nothing.

Jean watched as the pile of corpses were being loaded into the carts for burial. Dipping his sword into the blood, Jean took one last look at the French captain. One day.... one day he would avenge those that fell here..

One day...

Machiavellian Once again! Thank you for supporting this AAR! very few people have the patience to read a novel and im glad that you are taking the time Thanks

Jwolf Can't express how grateful i am for your comments Thanks alot.


I haven't read up to date yet, but.... its late 1790s and theres only a few years before napoleon becomes emperor..... im going to attempt anInvasion of Egypt? before he gets crowned possible?

Lord sutty Heh, thanks alot for staying with the AAR lord sutty and rest assured. I don't intend to abandon this anytime soon

Machiavellian Originally i wanted to scrap the plans to invade egypt, because the AI computer foolishly sent the magnificent 99 ship french fleet into Austrailia to explore (this is true!) by the time i sent it back to India, over half its numbers were gone >.< and about a third of the fleet remained when it returned to France.

An old Enemy.....​

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The clouds of dust were swirling on the windswept plains. The roar of the cannon and shells filled the air, and the sounds of dying men and horses were around him......Men were dropping like flies, with swords and spears embedded in their bodies. A turbaned man had his jaw shot off and he fell backwards stiff as a ramrod.. a thick clot of red ooze trailing from his skull.

Adrienne lay there, pain overwhelming every nerve in his body. He spat. Blood. The dust swirled even more viciously around him, he could feel it all. The shuffling of feet, the falling of bodies as they impacted the earth on which he lay on. He could feel every vibration and he could tell which ones were made from those who were recently killed. He struggled to get back on his feet, his carbine in hand......

All around him, redcoats and turbaned arabs fought in a fury which told that no love was lost between the two peoples... the muslims and christians. Then he saw it....

The horseman was approaching, a horse that he himself had ridden on just a few minutes ago! Damn that englishman!

Adrienne spat, then swore out loud at the Cavalryman, who turned towards him... the scarred face of the British redcoat grinning ear to ear as he charged. Behind him were even more cavalry, silouetted in the dust.

The Englishman got closer, unsheathing his heavy cavalry sword into the air. Adrienne tried to fire.. but his carbine was empty, his chest wound pulsating with every breath.

"This is for my comrade Frenchman!" The Britisher gave a warlike cry...and swooped down with his sword.
Captain Adrienne woke up....sweat dripping from his temple as he sat there, upright in his bed. It was a dream.

How he survived that day in India he did not know, but ever since then he consolled himself that it was from divine intervention, and that alone. God knows how his wound avoided infection, which would turn his chest into a glob of pus and guts. But it didn't matter to Adrienne....

The sun was rising in the east, and the familiar cackle of the rooster sounded outside, which was quickly cut off with a musket shot. Adrienne grinned.

The Campaign in Toulon had ended victoriously, each revolt in France was put down and now it was time for the army to reorganize, while the officers were in Paris receiving their orders he was left in charge of the camp, and by god would he make their lives miserable today!

Adrienne stared across the room, at his old carbine from india....it was a fine carbine, made with a rain proof percussion, and as accurate as any rifle. Yet how did he miss? Adrienne shook his head off. It was all in the past, now things were different, there were more important things to think about.

A campaign brought about opportunity, and within opportunity, lay promotion. How long would it be before he was a major? Certainly not long! The french were officered by conscripted shoemakers and peasants! Surely a soldier of his caliber would advance fast.

Adrienne grinned and started to dress.. A new day was approaching...another day of war.

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A few weeks later

Count Louis De Philippeaux impatiently tapped his knuckles onto the fine wooden table. His gentleman's outfit was spotless, his powdered wig and face almost shone in the light of the sunny day. On a platform next to the table, Musicians played the latest symphony of Beethoven while a servant served him Wine and cheese. This was the life! the life of an Aristocrat!

Louis De Philippeaux was a tall man, the same age as Major napoleon, who he knew personally. A hated enemy of his, Louis always called his peer the "Corsican wretch", everyday at the academy their knees would be black and blue from the kicks they would give each other. When the revolution swept through france, Louis, hating any change at all to his god-given rights, fled to take up arms against the republic.

And so now, he sits...... in a grand ballroom in Vienna....


Around him were hundreds of nobles, hundreds of his equals, all in lavishing dress and spotless uniforms with gold lace and fine swords and gloves. This was what the world should be! louis thought, and shuddered to think that a bunch of ill born rabid dogs are now in control of the most civilized country on Earth! Louis Calmed himself, utilizing the time to take in the fine scenary. the sound of glasses and silver ware clinking and clanging onto plates. The smell of fresh wine and freshly cut and roasted Venison and Lamb served with olive oil and herbes.....The dance floor consisted of all the nobles in the Austrian realm, from dukes, to lords to even the kings of former poland! It was a grand spectacle, and it made him smile....

A valet walked up to Louis, the man was in a bright and white uniform trimmed with yellow, in his gloved hand was a tray of appetizers.

"The archduke will be with you in a few minutes my lord." The man bowed.

"Excellent, Excellent." Louis said as he took one of the small seafood entrees from the Valet, the food was delicious, and Louis savoured each bite as he took a glass of wine in hand.

It was hard to believe that in the midst of all this...finery and lavishness, there was a war going on. Every noble officer in this room would eventually find himself knee deep in mud on the battlefield, or worse, covered in blood. Each noble spent countless hours fixing his dress uniform, only to have it ruined on the first day of Campaign. This fixation on appearance and detail had always fascinated Philippeaux, and it often made him wonder why nobles even bothered going out to war at all, why not just call a friendly game of lawn bowling? or game hunting?

Philippeaux laughed, but then again, there was no fun in that was there? The music of the Orchestra continued onto a violin solo, and that made louis lose his train of thought.....

A tall man covered in medals and gold lace walked beside Louis, taking a chair on the table.

"Bienvenue! What brings you to Austria?" The man asked.

"Ah greetings My lord, Archduke Charles!" Louis shook his hand, then proceeded to finish off his wine. The Archduke wanted to scoff, but was curious about the visit.

"Magnificient isn't it?" Louis pointed out to the fine wine.

"There are many magnificient things in Austria Lord Philippeaux, but then again, you didn't come here for pleasantrys did you?" The Archduke smiled, he was on to the Frenchman. "Was Parisan high society too much for you?"

"There is no more Parisian society my lord, they have all been killed. Some like me escaped" Louis took one more sip of his wine.

"A shame indeed, and it is to my surprise that you weren't able to stop them."

Louis sighed. "They fill the minds of the peasants with lies, making them forget their duty to god and thus, to us!" He raised his voice on the last phrase.

The Archduke Charles sat back in his chair. "They are planning to invade this country too. The republicans."

"Damn the republicans." Louis muttered.

"Well yes, but unfortunately we have already been pushed back, have you heard of Brabrant?"

"No." Philippeaux said grudgingly, he had been out of touch since his battle at Mondovi, where his italian ally Diaz was defeated utterly by the rabid dogs who called themselves Frenchmen.

"Alvintzi! one of our best generals! Lies rotting in a cell in Paris! Two of our best armies monsieur, wiped out in the austrian netherlands.!" Charles slammed his fist hard on the table.

"I take it that convincing you of the justness of our cause is not necessary my lord." Philippeaux said with sudden satisfaction. He and hundreds of other nobles had fled to Austria to stir up war against France, and now it would be the fools in Austria who would bleed and die for the interests of France's nobles...

"Quite right...but i do not wish to have Frenchmen commanding my infantry." Charles scoffed.

"What ever gave you the thought monsieur?" Philippeaux ate a piece of gorgonzola cheese and graciously offered it to the archduke, who declined.
A silence now filled the conversation as the two men figured out what to say next....

"We are....." Charles cleared his throat, putting his gloved hand in front of his mouth. "We are planning a counter offensive, in the place where the French neglected to attack."

"Italy...." Philippeaux said the word instantly, as if he deduced it even before the Archduke had this conversation with him.

"Yes Italy.." Charles took the time to regain his posture in his chair, leaning forward... "As we speak, i am concentrating three armies totalling 100,000 men in Tyrol." The Archduke helped himself to some wine on the table. "We are to march to-morrow."

Once again, it amazed Philippeaux how Exquisite and well-mannered Gentlemen would describe war as if it was nothing, as if it was limited to ballrooms and luxurious compartments in tents on campaign. The Atmosphere was so... different, and it fascinated him how they could talk about war - war which was bloody, gory and awful - in such a heavenly and serene environment.....

"I would be honoured sir, if i were to join you on this expedition." Philippeaux graciously offered his services to the Emperor, but was denied, yet the defeats of the recent past months had begun to make him see reason.

"The honour is entirely mine monsieur." Charles spoke in his immaculate French.

"Are you sure that the populace will rise against them?" The Duke took this time to ask a question which worried him since he planned the campaign.

"I have no doubt my lord, the peasants of Vendee and Toulon who still remembered their duty to god have already revolted, they were bloodily put down, i doubt that they have any love for the republic."

"Then we shall proceed." Archduke Charles smiled. He was Austria's greatest military general, and now he would march to Italy to win victories for the glory of the Austrian Emperor.

"God speed." Philippeaux raised his glass in a toast. And the Archduke replied by raising his own. "God speed... and god preserve us all."

As the men talked....a stream of white uniformed soldiers began trickling from Austria's eastern provinces to the west. Their buttons and uniforms untarnished by the cold night, and illuminated by the full moon. Bayonets shone in the air as the men marched with mechanical precision towards their destination. The column was several miles long, resembling an overfed snake of humanity....Following the infantry were cannons. While Cavalry went ahead as a scouting force.

An Austrian General halted the column as he neared the mountain range, and then shouted out a message in German to his staff while pointing towards the city that was over the crest of the hill. A peaceful hamlet which contained lights and small amounts of smoke coming out from Chimneys. The Austrian General licked his lips in anticipation as he saw Sausages and pies cooling off the window sills.

He waved his sword forward, and the column marched.

War was about to come to Italy.

The First Coalition

"BACK! BACK! To the woods!" The French Colonel waved his sword wildly in the air, shouting at the top of his lungs. He was on horseback, lavish sword in the air while his blue uniform was covered in mud. A tribute to the days fighting that had been done.

"Back! Form line in the woods! Three ranks!" He beat the flat of his sword at a running French infantrymen, who had already dropped his musket. "Damn you! Cowards!" The Colonel turned and shouted.

Unbeknownst to him, a line of smoke appeared, followed by the thunderous whistling of several hundred lead balls as a new volley was fired from the white clad Austrian lines. Musket balls were sent barrelling through the thick trees of the wood. Richocets sounded in the air as metal impacted on the dense oaks and timbers. The French Colonel, a mere seventy yards from the volley, fell forward, three musket balls through his chest.

The body dangled as the horse panicked and bolted forward, the colonel having his foot caught in the stirrups, was being dragged through the bushes, where his body was mangled by the thorns......

Private Andre Renes stood on the line with his company outside the wood, where large austrian lines that were twice as dense as the French began their advance. Delacroix was next to him, since companies were now running short on men, many were combined, such was the case with Delacroix's as his company was merged in with Andre's.

"Reload!" Andre and Delacroix took a step back, while the next line of French infantry stepped forward. The smoke covered the battlefield, and Andre stumbled over a corpse as he made his way to the rear. He was lucky, for just as the line changed, another flash and volley appeared from the Austrians, sending the man who stood where andre was, falling to the ground, a musket ball lodged in his eye.

"Dammit!" Andre bit the cartridge, a small packet of gunpowder which contained the musket ball; the gunpowder tasted salty in his mouth, or perhaps that was his sweat, for they were fighting in full uniform on a hot sunny Italian day.

After pouring the Cartridge in, he narrowly missed dropping the musket ball inside the barrel, the drumming of the enemy lines was making his hands shake, but watching Delacroix load gave him some comfort. The large Frenchman was obviously a veteran of many battles, despite his claim that he was a banker. Andre spat on the ground, then poured the rest of the cartridge in, packing the contents of it inside the barrel with his ramrod.

"make ready!" Andre raised his muskets in unison along with hundreds of other Frenchmen, he raised an eyebrow as he noticed that he had forgotten to take out his ramrod, and it was sticking out of his barrel like a javelin. Andre couldn't think at the point, not above the sounds of screaming and explosions around him. A french sargeant was hit in the head with a musketball, courtesy of the green uniformed riflemen. The Austrian Jagers. Andre learnt to fear these riflemen, for they could kill at three hundred paces, which was literally a mile for those who tried to hit a target that far with a musket. He drew back the hammer, the gun cocked.

"FIRE!" He pulled the trigger.

The hammer struck the flint, which fired the gun. A large flash splurted out of Andre's musket pan, he flinched as ashes got into his eyes. The volley decimated the Austrian ranks, more white uniformed men fell into the blood soaked ground. Andre himself, noticed that his Ramrod flew out of his musket like a spear, impaling the ground while his musket ball went on to hit an austrian in the boot, the man falling down in pain, clenching his wound.

A whistle blew, and the captain waved the men back. The French line was faltering.

Through the grey smoke which covered the field, Andre could see forms appear. It was a column. The austrians formed their men and began a quick march, ignoring the French shells and volleys that were fired to impede their progress.

"Damn." Andre crouched down to pick up a new ramrod from a dead body. He picked up another musket and fired blindly in the direction of the Austrians, hoping to at least do some damage.

A rifle bullet shot down a Frenchman in front of Andre and that prompted him to get up.

"GO GO! What are you doing Renes?" Delacroix shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth. The French were running.

Andre shouldered his musket and made a run for it, already he could hear the sounds of defeat. "HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" The Austrians cheered, then broke ranks to pursue the French. Men died screaming as they were skewered in the back with Bayonets. Frenchmen dropped everything, packs, muskets, anything that could slow them down. The Austrians released their cavalry, the Hussars, who swung swords at any heads that got within range.

Andre however, kept his things and joined a small group of organized Frenchmen, who formed a crude square as they withdrew. They were saved by the fact that General Davout had sent the last of his cavalry reserves in to throw the impetus off the Austrian advance. The French cavalry eventually got overwhelmed, but they allowed a good two thousand men to escape.....

As soon as they were within 100 yards of the nearest forest, the square broke formation and Andre ran, ran as fast as he could carrying that seventy pound pack on his back. His legs and heart were burning as no amount of marching could prepare him for such a task.

More shells exploded behind him, the French artillery was making one last effort to stop the Austrian column from reaching the last French line, which was already wavering under the Musket fire. A chance shot hit the center of the column directly, shooting bodies in the air while a cloud of blood shocked the column into a temporary halt.

Andre did not see this, since he already saw that the French line was broken, he kept running, along with several thousand Frenchmen. Running towards his last salvation in the wood, the austrian cavalry was only three hundred yards behind him....and the dream target of a cavalry was always a broken mass of men........

More shells dropped on the French position, and General Davout called a withdrawl....
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"Magnificent isn't it!" Philippeaux could not help but clap his hands at the sight of the Austrian Column breaking the French line. The screams of the rebels were like music to his ears.

Archduke Charles sat uneasily in his horse, shivering at the thought of Philippeaux's sadistic definition of Magnificence. This was not glory, but a slaughter. The French were never prepared for a war and Charles was not satisfied with merely running over a group of peasants.

"I should be fighting real soldiers, not this pack of rabble." Charles scoffed.

"You are liberating the most civilized country in western europe my lord, surely that is enough to give satisfaction." Louis Philippeaux folded his spy glass, as he overlooked the battlefield on his horse. Smoking craters filled with dead were all over the place, along with dismantled cannon.

"Pfft. The sooner i am back in Vienna with my Whores the better."

"French women are renowned throughout the world for their beauty my lord." Philippeaux jested.

"Haha, perhaps i will give them a try then." Charles smiled as he moved his horse foward, to get a better view of the field.

"Italy is once again Austrian! Now we shall pursue them into France!"

"We will indeed my lord, perhaps you should be working on your victory speech as you enter the Versailles."

Charles smiled, Austria was always the dominant power in Central Europe, and now he had proved it. Within a matter of weeks, he would be dictating peace in the hall of mirrors, dictating peace which would shape Europe for the rest of the century and put Austria in the place of the great great powers! He imagined himself, Charles, the power broker behind thrones! Surely the bourbons would reward him with a title, or perhaps an estate in Bordeaux, for he had always liked the coast.

Charles gathered himself again.

"Let us be off gentlemen, we have much work ahead of us." The men saluted, and so the Austrian march into Dauphine began.

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It was suppose to be glorious.....then again, the army was suppose to be a glorious thing.

Brigadier General Napoleon Bonaparte sat gloomily inside the bar. Ignoring all the drunks, crooks and thieves around him. Surely, they thought, the man was contemplating suicide for walking into such a drudgy place with no escort! Yet they left the man alone in his thoughts, content to beat each other up in bar brawls over women.

Napoleon sighed and took one look out of the window. Fall was approaching, and so was the Autumn leaves. Orange and yellow replaced green in the forests and a large wind continually blew in the countryside, sweeping the leaves into the cities.

It had been so good. Napoleon thought, as he recalled that day almost a year ago. Toulon had fallen with little casualties thanks to Major Bonaparte's brilliant plan, and so with the recommendation of General Eugene as well as General Doppet, Maximillian Robespierre had him declared a Brigadier General for his services to the Republic. It was good, for the first time in his life Napoleon had plenty of money to spend. Always a dutiful son, he sent most of it to his family in Marseilles, although he kept enough for him to enjoy the finest of the capital. It looked as though Napoleon was a rising star, and he imagined himself in a Marshall's outfit, baton in his saddle, commanding troops he could call his own, while his beautiful daughters, his cannons, tore the enemy lines into pieces.

All that changed over ten months ago. The Terrorists were thrown out of power by the Directory, the more moderate radicals. They began to purge the government of radicals. Napoleon, who owed so much to the old republic, was arrested, but later released due to lack of evidence. Now, a general on half pay, he had spent the last months wandering the streets. His face pinched with hunger. He even had to pawn his valuable gold watch he got from his grandfather for a meal, and that made him ashamed.

Napoleon was silent....he was silent because he had made a secret vow to himself, to rid himself of this misery. Weeks ago he had decided to leave Europe altogether, and go to where opportunity awaited. Turkey.

He heard that the Sultan required someone to reorganize his artillery for the army. Napoleon, being an artileryman himself, not just some rag doll who can be tossed out as soon as his purpose ended, decided to go. He would deprive France of his talents, he would comfortably sit and watch the traitors who caused his misery burn while he made it rich in a foreign land. He had already read the papers. Story after story told of French defeats, and how the Austrians had broken through the Alps to attack Provence and Dauphine. Napoleon estimated that the Directory would have only a few months of existence left, and before you know it, Franz, emperor of Austria, would be dictating peace as well as policy in western Europe for the next century.

He had obtained his passport just a week ago, and there he sat, passport on table, content to finish this last glass of wine before leaving the city.

A man in a greatcoat entered the bar, a large hush of wind blowing into the tavern as the man walked in. his boots squished as he walked, leaving muddy tracks in his wake.

The man walked towards Napoleon's table and sat down next to him. The Brigadier General had his head down, but instinctively knew.....

"What do you want Eugene?" Napoleon Grumbled, he wasn't in a good mood.

"Is there anything wrong with wanting a drink with one's friend?" Eugene laughed.

"no. No at all." Napoleon managed a smile, but he could hardly hold it for a few seconds before dropping his head down.

"So this is what the Great General has come down to? reducing himself to eating in bars and drinking shabby wine?"

"I have the Directory to thank for this." Napoleon belched. "Excuse me."

Eugene put his elbow on the table, support his chin as he stared out the window. "I hear you are leaving Paris, is this correct?"

"This would not be the first time i had to leave my home." Napoleon grumbled. Eugene was uneasy, he knew Napoleon was still gloomy about having to abandon his homeland of Corsica, but then again he had always known this man as the man who wouldn't give up, and Eugene wasn't willing to give up on this man at all.

"I hear that Turkey is a vile place, why stay there when you could be winning glorious victories in France?"

"I hear you can marry more than one wife there, or at least take many mistresses." Napoleon laughed.

"One French woman is as good as twenty of theirs! Don't be such a fool my friend! Ride out the storm, it will pass!"

"I've been waiting ten months Eugene" Napoleon smiled weakly. "There is no future for me in this country."

"What if I told you there was?" Eugene's eyes lite up. Napoleon raised his head to look at his friend.

"What are you talking about General?" Napoleon grumbled, the informalities were over.

"Director Paul Barras requires your services at the Tuileries General Bonaparte!He has instructed me to tell you this no more than twenty minutes ago."

"What in the devil does he want me for?"

Eugene leaned forward, whispering the next part. "I don't want anyone else to know, but Paris is in revolt, haven't you heard? The terrorists are trying to regain power and they teamed up with the royalists to oust the government!"

Napoleon was puzzled, aside from their common hatred of the directory, what else did they have in common? Given the chance, the royalists would have slit the throats of their would be allies, and so would the terrorist radicals, yet it was happening.

Napoleon was more serious now. "When does he want me at the Tuileries?"

"now."

"He believes there will be an attack?"

"Yes, just like the one a few years back."

Napoleon shivered, he recalled the swiss dead who were massacred in front of the tuilleries, and now he was to command the troops that were defending it?!

"You have five minutes to decide my friend, otherwise i will take command. Paul barras is no fool, he has seen you in action at Toulon, if you help him, there is no telling how far you will go." Eugene said it emotionlessly, but with a serious tone, implying that he wanted his friend to grasp this opportunity.

Napoleon stood up before Eugene even had time to finish, fixing his cocked hat, he paid for the drink and told Eugene to follow him. The men put on their great coats and ran towards the tuileries with full speed......

This was Napoleon's chance.

Lord Durham: THank you very much for choosing my AAR as weekly showcase! Really appreciate it! , i am still reading your Austrian AAR, saved a copy of it on my hard drive. Will let you know when i finish

LadyFabia: Once again, thanks for reading!


Lordsutty: Thanks for sticking it out and having the patience to keep track of this AAR

Judge: Thanks for the encouragement!