Quote:
Originally Posted by canadiancreed
And years later a moument would be built for that brave British general that repelled the thrust of American agression.  |
Correct - Major General Sir Isaac Brock, already a hero for victories in the "West" (back then Detroit was considered the west). He was just 27 years old when killed at the Battle of Queenston Heights, but was apparently quite a good general. And speaking of generals, an extraordinary pair are about to enter our story.....
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PART II - L'Empereur Meets His Fate
The Berezina River, Russia, November 25, 1812: How quickly victory turned to defeat for the Grande Armee of France. Conquerors of Moscow just two short months earlier, the huge and victorious army of Napoleon Bonaparte's France was a tattered wreck scrambling for safety in the west, pursued by Russian armies bent on complete annihilation.
Napoleon's army had arrived at the banks of the Berezina River, normally frozen at this time of year, at the town of Borisov. The army had fought many battles since beginning the long retreat from Moscow and only the brilliant strategy of their emperor/general had saved them from utter destruction. Now it appeared the chase might be reaching its end: the Berezina was not frozen and the bridge over it, which General Dombrowski had been ordered to hold, had been captured and put to the torch by the Russians. Capping off the dilemma was the presence on the western bank of a large Russian force under Admiral Pavel Chichagov, while Marshal Kutusov's army was approaching from the east.
With the bridge gone and facing an icy river with a swift current, the Grande Armee was caught in a vice. Napoleon's fevered mind raced - how to find a crossing? He had just days before ordered the destruction of his army's bridging equipment. He summoned his chief engineer, Jean Baptiste Eblé.
"Did you destroy the bridging equipment as ordered?" he asked quietly.
Eblé looked guilty. "I considered disobeying your orders and did order my men to spare some charcoal and forges, but we destroyed the majority of the equipment." He paused and swallowed. "I am sorry to have disobeyed, but it is difficult for an engineer to destroy..."
Napoleon waved him to silence and the ghost of a smile played at his lips. "Well, General. Your disobedience may just have saved my army," He patted Eblé on the shoulder.
The Emperor dismissed his engineer. Now the problem was simply finding a place to build bridges to cross his army, but with Chichagov shadowing his army from the western bank... He snapped his fingers. A diversion - he would create a diversion and send the Russians in the wrong direction. But where? He buttoned his coat and grabbed his hat. Perhaps a walk would clear his mind.
A messenger rode up as Napoleon was stepping from his tent into the bitterly cold night. "Majesty, I have a message from General Corbineau," the messenger blurted breathlessly. Napoleon held out his hand and the messenger dropped the paper into it.
Napoleon's thin lips spread into a grin as he read. Corbineau, bless him, had found a ford to the north. He could cross his army there, so long as the Russians weren't wise to it. "Let's see this ford," the Emperor said and signaled to his groom. "Get my horse."
Unbeknownst to the French Army, the Russian Admiral Chichagov also knew of this ford. He detached a troop of Cossack cavalry. Their orders: capture any French scouts who approached the northern ford. His main force would cover the French, who were nearer to the southern ford.
Napoleon, accompanied by General Eblé and a small escort of dragoons and engineers, reached the ford. As Corbineau's men had discovered - by interrogating local peasants - the site was ideal for the building of a bridge. Or two, said General Eblé. "We'll need to keep the Russians from harrying us during the construction, of course, Majesty," he said.
Napoleon nodded. His luck was holding. He was about to give the order to turn around when he heard horses approaching from the east. His eyes narrowed and his guard of dragoons immediately fanned out around him in a protective formation.
"Cossacks!" one of them shouted. Napoleon swore as gunfire erupted all around him. With the river at his back, his options for flight were limited. He gazed over the water - and to his horror saw more Cossacks crossing, their horses wading through the shallow water. He was about to shout when his horse was struck by a bullet and he was unceremoniously dumped to the ground, where he immediately lost conciousness.
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PART II (continued)
Lison, Portugal, January 14, 1813: General Arthur Wellesley, Marquess of Wellington, was sitting down to his breakfast when his adjutant knocked on his door. "Sir, sorry to disturb you, but a packet arrived from London this morning."
Wellington raised an eyebrow. "Yes? And what is it that is so important it can not wait until I've broken my fast?"
The adjutant grinned and handed over the packet. "Perhaps you should read this yourself, sir."
Wellington dabbed his lips with a napkin and opened the envelope. He read the letter within and a look of joy spread over his face. "Napoleon captured in Russia! Fantastic! The war is over, then! At last I can go home." His face grew wistful. "It's been years since I've seen England."
The adjutant's grin faded. "Sir? There's a second letter in the packet."
Wellington, still smiling, pulled out the second missive. His smile faded and a hard look came into his eyes. "What the devil? They can not be serious..." he tailed off as he continued reading. "Hmm. Signed by the Prince Regent himself. I hadn't realized they were this committed." With King George III mentally ill, the British government was run by his son George, the Prince Regent. It was a reasonable solution, for Prince George would after all be crowned George IV someday.
Wellington dropped his napkin and stood, then shot a glare at his adjutant. "Well? What are you standing there gawking at? Begin packing my things, and inform the staff. We leave tomorrow for Canada." He sighed as he looked at his unfinished breakfast. "The war in Europe may be over, but it seems His Majesty would like me to teach our American cousins a lesson they shan't soon forget..."