Reincarnated as Napoleon



In real history, there was no detailed account of how Napoleon Bonaparte planned the defense of the Tuileries Palace. Though there are accounts that narrated how the battle went, the endings were all the same. Napoleon Bonaparte repelled the royalists and saved the government.

But, by looking at the map, he can predict where Napoleon could have placed the artillery around the perimeter of the Tuileries Palace. He admits, most of his achievements right now are thanks to his knowledge of the future. Before engaging in a battle, he would spend his time in the military tent, reading the maps and accounts of the specific battle, and then he'll improvise and make it better. It feels like this battle is his first.

'Let's put all the knowledge I learned in the military school to the test,' Napoleon said to himself, as he began voicing out his plan to Barras and the officers present inside the chamber.

"In order for the defense to be successful, we are going to need cannons," Napoleon revealed. "Do we have some nearby?"

"There is," Barras confirmed. "It's in the Sablons, we have forty of them stored there."

"Good, if you know that I'm sure the royalists know it too. We have to get it before they have a chance to seize them," Napoleon said. "Do you have someone who can ride out there fast?"

"There is one," Barras replied before turning towards the officer standing next to him. "Can you call him please?"

"Understood, General," the officer saluted and quickly left the chamber to fetch the man Barras.

Moments later, the officer returned, accompanied by a tall and flamboyantly dressed soldier whose presence demanded attention. His dark hair was immaculately styled, framing a chiseled face adorned with a well-groomed mustache. Dressed in a resplendent uniform, complete with gleaming gold epaulets and polished boots.

"You have called for me, General?" The man asked.

"General Bonaparte," Barras called and continued. "This man here is a sous-lieutenant in the 12ème Régiment de Chasseurs à Cheval, Joachim Murat."

"Enchanté," Murat saluted and waved his hands at officers around.

Napoleon turned and faced Murat. He can't believe that he is standing up to one of Napoleon's marshals in real history. He is definitely living up to the hype of him being a flamboyant character. His mannerism and swagger leave no doubt about his charismatic nature.

"Lieutenant Murat. I am Brigadier-General Napoleon Bonaparte. I am the chief-of-staff of the defense of the Tuileries Palace."

"Wait, you are?" Murat exclaimed. "I thought it was you, General Barras."

Barras shook his head. "I transferred my authority to General Bonaparte for this critical defense."

"Is that so? Then, what can I do for you, General?" Murat asked, facing Napoleon.

"I want you to ride to the plain of Sablon and retrieve the cannons," Napoleon replied, his voice filled with urgency. "The royalists must not get their hands on them. Speed is of the essence, Lieutenant Murat."

Murat's eyes gleamed with excitement, fully embracing the mission at hand. "Consider it done, General Bonaparte. I will ride with haste and ensure the cannons are safely delivered here."

Without wasting another moment, Murat saluted and turned to leave.

Napoleon turned his attention back to the officers assembled in the chamber.

"Okay, once we get those cannons, we shall position them here, here, and here, covering the main avenues of approach and potential breach points."

Napoleon started pointing at the strategically marked areas on the map of the Tuileries Palace. His finger traced the perimeter, indicating the ideal locations for the cannons to maximize their defensive capabilities.

"As for our infantrymen, we will position them just in front of our cannons. That way, the royalists would think that they are only facing soldiers, and boldly charging towards our ranks."

"I see what you are doing here," Barras looked at the map, realizing Napoleon's intention. "Should those royalists charge towards the ranks, and the ranks moved to the side to reveal the cannons, they will be met with a devastating volley of cannon fire. It will catch them completely off guard and shatter their advance, potentially causing them to rout."

Napoleon nodded, a hint of satisfaction crossing his face. "Exactly, General Barras. We will lure them into a false sense of security, and then unleash a barrage of artillery fire that will sow chaos and confusion among their ranks. You said that they have 25,000 men right? Well, one thing that everyone should know is that they are civilians with no military training. They may be motivated by their cause, but they lack the discipline and cohesion of a well-trained army."

He continued. "You see, the reason why the Women's March to Versailles was successful is that the king didn't have cannons at that time. If they had faced a fortified position like the Tuileries Palace we have right now with cannons guarding its gates, the outcome would have been very different."

The soldiers and officers were silent momentarily after Napoleon's words.

"Okay, let's fortify our position right now," Napoleon broke the silence, and the soldiers and officers sprang into action, following Napoleon's orders to fortify their position. They worked swiftly and efficiently, reinforcing the barricades, setting up sandbags, and organizing the placement of the infantrymen.

Four hours later, Murat returned with his chasseurs, hauling the cannons from the plain of Sablon. The soldiers carefully unloaded the cannons, their metallic barrels gleaming in the pale light of the moon. Napoleon inspected each piece, ensuring they were in proper working order.

"Excellent work, Lieutenant Murat," Napoleon commended as he patted Murat on the shoulder. "You are just in time."

Murat stood tall, a proud smile crossing his face. "Thank you, General Bonaparte. I rode like the wind to bring these cannons back to you."

"Good. Now you and your men take your position here," Napoleon unfurled a map and pointed at a specific spot near Napoleon's position.

"Understood," Murat responded with a crisp salute, his enthusiasm undiminished. He rallied his chasseurs and led them to their assigned position.

As the cannons were being set up, Napoleon circulated among the infantrymen, personally inspecting their ranks.

One hour later, he noticed the earth beneath his feet trembled ever so slightly. "Here they come."

He mounted his horse and faced the streets. One by one, a wave of people, men and women armed with stolen muskets, pikes, and standards of the Bourbon monarchy, surged towards the Tuileries Palace. Their shouts and cries filled the air, their determination evident in their eyes.

"First row ready!" Napoleon commanded, and the first row of the line soldiers stepped forward, their muskets raised and bayonets fixed. Their disciplined formation and unwavering resolve sent a clear message to the approaching royalists: they were prepared to defend the palace at any cost.

The royalist forces advanced steadily, their numbers overwhelming. The thunderous sound of their footsteps reverberated through the streets, causing the hearts of some of the defenders to skip a beat. But Napoleon remained composed, his gaze fixed on the approaching enemy.

As the royalists closed in, the tension in the air became palpable. The defenders held their ground, their fingers tightening around the triggers of their muskets. The first row of soldiers locked eyes with the oncoming enemy, waiting for the right moment to unleash their deadly volley.

As they neared, royalist members who were armed with muskets pulled the trigger. Some hit their mark and a few defenders fell, but the disciplined line soldiers stood their ground, maintaining their formation.

"Steady, men!" Napoleon called out, his voice carrying over the chaotic sounds of the battle. "Hold your fire!"

The royalists grew bolder as they closed in, their shouts and fervor reaching a crescendo.

Just as the royalists reached a certain distance from the defenders, Napoleon shouted.

"Fire!"

ƥαṇdαs ηθνε| In perfect unison, the muskets roared, unleashing a hail of lead and smoke upon the charging enemy. The deafening sound of the volley echoed through the streets, momentarily disorienting the royalists.

"Second row ready!" Napoleon commanded, his voice cutting through the smoke-filled air. The second row of soldiers stepped forward, filling the gap left by the first row.

The royalists regained their composure and continued their advance, but their momentum was halted as the second row of defenders unleashed their volley.

Yet, the royalists aren't stopping. Napoleon glanced at the cannons placed at the rear. It's time for them to reveal it.

"Left forward!" Napoleon commanded, and the infantrymen stepped aside, revealing the gleaming cannons positioned behind them. The royalists, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the artillery, faltered for a moment, their advance temporarily halted.

"Fire!" Napoleon's voice rang out once again, and the cannons erupted in a deafening roar. The ground trembled as the grapeshot tore through the air, transforming into a deadly storm of metal fragments. The shrapnel sliced through the ranks of the royalists, inflicting widespread devastation upon their formation.

"Second cannon fire!" Napoleon's voice rang out once again, and the cannons thundered once more, sending another wave of destruction and chaos crashing into the royalist forces. The royalists turned into a disorganized mass of panicked individuals, desperately trying to run away from the lethal onslaught.

In the midst of the chaos, the deafening roar of the cannons combined with the screams and cries of the terrified royalists. The stampede of frightened men and women ensued, as they trampled over one another in a frantic scramble to escape the relentless barrage.

However, in their way of retreat, an infantry line stood firm, cutting off their escape route. Commanding them was Joachim Murat.

"Fire!" Murat's command echoed through the air, and the infantry line opened fire, delivering a devastating volley into the royalists.

"Second row, fire!"

The second row of defenders, under Murat's command, followed suit, adding to the barrage of musket fire that tore through the panicked royalists.

Murat, noticing that their numbers dwindled from hundreds to a mere scattered few, made a decision.

"Stand down!" Murat's voice boomed through the chaos, commanding his men to cease firing. The smoke slowly cleared, revealing the aftermath of the brutal battle. Bodies littered the streets, and the air was heavy with the stench of gunpowder and blood.

"Forward," Murat's men marched forward, and as they walked, they cleared the way of debris and bodies, making a path for his soldiers to ride through. On the opposite side, Napoleon ordered the same.

Napoleon Bonaparte, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, dismounted his horse and walked among the fallen bodies, and approached Murat.

Murat dismounted and saluted his commanding officer. The two men stood amidst the grim aftermath of the battle, their eyes surveying the scene.

"This is a slaughterhouse," Murat commented.

"This is the price of rebellion," Napoleon replied solemnly, his gaze fixed on the lifeless bodies strewn across the ground. "They fought for their cause, misguided as it may be, and paid the ultimate price."

"But still they are Frenchmen right?" Murat asked.

"Nope, they are royalists Murat in league with the nations we are at war with, learn the difference. They sought to restore the monarchy and overthrow the Republic," Napoleon corrected his tone firm. "They fought against the ideals that this nation stands for."

"So, what now? There are still thousands of them?"

Just as Murat asked, two horses arrived in their position.

"General Bonaparte! Reporting from the Le Peletier section! The royalists turned and fled," the officer said.

"Same report in Saint-Roch," the other officer added.

"Well, it seems like the royalists have lost their will to fight," Napoleon observed, a spark of satisfaction in his eyes. "I'm going back to the headquarters and report this to General Barras."

As Napoleon mounted his horse, Murat called. "General Bonaparte!"

Napoleon faced Murat. "What?"

"It is an honor serving you sir," Murat said genuinely.

Napoleon looked at Murat, a faint smile forming on his fatigued face.

"The honor is mine, Lieutenant Murat," Napoleon replied, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Let's see each other again on the battlefield, but I hope it won't be against the royalists."

***

The aftermath of the battle of Vendémiaire brought profound changes to the political landscape of France. The defeat of the Royalist insurrection extinguished the immediate threat to the Convention and solidified the power of the revolutionary government. In the wake of the decisive victory, the leaders of the National Convention took swift action to consolidate their authority and ensure the stability of the fledgling Republic.

As the dust settled and the nation recovered from the turmoil, the National Convention made a momentous decision on the 25th of October. In a dramatic move, they declared the dissolution of the Convention itself, signaling a shift in the governing structure of the country. This paved the way for the installation of the Directoire and the Council of Five Hundred, a new executive body designed to govern the Republic.

Napoleon's heroic actions during the Battle of Vendémiaire thrust him into the national spotlight, making him a symbol of the Republic's unwavering strength and determination. His comrades hailed him as a true hero, and the people expressed their deep gratitude for his service. It didn't take long for the authorities to acknowledge his exceptional talent and act accordingly.

In a swift response to his remarkable achievements, Napoleon was swiftly promoted to the prestigious rank of Général de Division. Additionally, he was appointed as the new General in Chief of the Army of the Interior.

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