[HWK]Greenwarrior
Joined: 20 Apr 2004
Posts: 276
Location: A BLUE STATE!
|
 Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2004 2:33 am Post subject: The Tuileries Massacre : August 1792 |
 |
|
I came upon this and founf it very interesting, hope u enjoy this little bloody story.. thisis the forum i got this from..
http://www.europa-universalis.com/forum/showthread.php?t=113482&page;=2
The Tuileries Massacre : August 1792
The war was going badly for France, recently an austrian army had utterly crushed a French force in Mainz, leaving thousands dead and thousands more prisoners. Entire regiments surrendered, or crying "Treason" Murdered their commanders. By August the enemy were advancing upon Paris. Panic swept the capital.
The defeats, people said, were because the king leaked army plans to the enemy. Fanatics filled the newspapers, crying "La Patrie en danger!" (The homeland is in danger), and demanded that all traitors be punished. The people took this translation literally - The royal family, nobles, priests, indeed anyone suspected of disloyalty must be arrested and executed.
Volunteers poured in from all over the countryside, flocking to Paris. As they marched, the revolutionaries sang a song that would become famous during the course of the war. known as the "marseillaise."
Come, children of your country, come,
New glory dawns upon the world,
Our tyrants rushing to their doom,
Their bloody banners have unfurled;
Already on our plains we hear
The murmurs of a savage horde;
They threaten with the murderous sword
Your comrades and your children dear.
Then up, and form your ranks, the hireling foe
withstand;
March on, March on.
His craven blood must fertilize the land.
Alarm clocks rang throughout paris on the morning of the 10th. A large mob began gathering in the city square. Led by the men of Marseilles this mob of twenty thousand consisted of shopkeepers, women, children, the unemployed and soldiers flowed through the streets. They were armed with anything sharp they could fine, knives, spears, pitchforks, muskets, clubs. The mob gathered and headed towards their destination.... the Tuileries, to overthrow king Louis XVI. Unknown to them, the king had already fled to safety hours ago.
***
Captain Bonaparte was enjoying himself, his unit having recently returned to Paris. He had managed to pull himself a Furlough, and now went to paris to get his passport to return back to Corsica, where a Hero's welcome would surely await him.
Sitting in the Cafe, Napoleon took one sip of coffee, then looked at his watch. Twenty after nine, just a few more hours before his coach would arrive.
Napoleon tapped the table impatiently, but was content to settle out with a game of cards with his fellow officers. It was proving to be a dull day indeed.....
***
The Tuileries were defended by the Swiss Guards, a one thousand man unit which was hired to serve the king. They were professional soldiers, but their ammunition was dangerously low.
Two men stood guard as sentries outside the gate. One yawned as the rigorous morning shift was often the most boring one. God! What he would do for some wine! or perhaps a loaf of bread. The Guardsman took the time to stretch himself, while his other partner just stood there, staring straight..... Then his eyes opened wide in shock.
in front of him was an unreal sight. Hundreds... no..thousands of men and women! Howling cries of death, like rabid dogs foaming at the mouth.
The first guard shivered, then ran back to the gate, the other was unfortunate and tripped, only to be overrun by the mob. His body dissapearing within the sea of spears and pikes.
"We're under attack! We're under attack!" The swiss dropped his musket, then ran for cover, hands behind his head, as the crowd started throwing stones.
"Form up! Form up!" A Colonel snapped the men together, and managed to get a hundred men to line up in front of the gate. The mob proceeded closer, howling like banshees from the depths of hell.
"Present!" The colonel lifted his sword. A hundred muskets came up and leaned on a hundred shoulders. What a battle this was! The colonel thought. On one side there were these white guards, orderly, clean and dressed, while the mob was dirty, brutal and barbaric, they were two worlds apart. The Colonel Flinched as more stones and this time muskets fired into his men, knocking several down.
"FIRE!" The men panicked, and fired scattered volleys before running to the Palace. Some of the mob fell down from the volley, and that did nothing to calm their anger. Crying "Treason!" The mob ran towards the guards. Those who stood their ground were cut down, while the others ran towards the barricade at the entrance.
Huge sailors, taking part in the riot, used large pieces of timber as clubs. A poor swiss had his skull crushed as two sailors held him down, while a third pummeled him with the large piece of wood. Women fought as well, slitting the throats of the guards who failed to get away. Others were decapitated, while some were shot. Screams filled the courtyard.
The remaining defenders were trapped on the walls, which were being climbed by angry rioters. The swiss nervously shot at them, then ran for their lives. Some fell off the walls, into the sea of rioters below.
It didn't take the mob too long to enter the palace. Only two hundred swiss guarded the large doors behind their barricades of furniture. The swiss fired, only to have twice as many muskets fire at them. The rioters charged the swiss, who had their backs to the wall. Their colonel, already shot dead in the mouth was lying on the steps of the palace.
While more fighting took place in the courtyard, rioters broke into the palace and looted it. Furniture worth more than a worker earned in a lifetime was smashed in a fraction of a second. Government documents were burnt, others tossed into the air. Sweaty people cheered the giant "Snowflakes" which came fluttering to the ground.
The tuileries were taken, yet the mob was far from finished......
***
Napoleon walked down the street an hour later, wondering where his carriage went. The young Captain strolled through the empty streets, and thought about how eerily empty this part of the town was.
Then he saw it....
Over in the distance was a pillar of smoke. The shouts of men, the screams, the cries. Napoleon himself saw two men run towards the direction of the ruckus, smiling and carrying torches with them.
The Captain followed them curiously, negotiating the narrow streets and mazes to find himself at the gates of the Tuileries, or what was left of it.
Suddenly a map grabbed him on the shoulder.
Napoleon turned around to see a large mob facing him, with muskets, pitchforks and clubs. Yet what made napoleon flinch was the grim "trophy" that the crowd had taken with it. The Swiss Colonel's head was stuck on a pike, and lifted above the crowd. The crowd, thinking that Napoleon looked far too much like a gentlemen, demanded that he shout "long live the nation!"
Without hesitation he did so at once, at the top of his voice.
Napoleon slowly entered the courtyard, and it smelt of death. It was like entering a butcher shop. The grass was red with blood, as was the air, which stank to high heaven. Bodies, many stripped naked, lay in piles, the white fine uniforms of the swiss guards were burnt while others just wore them. Napoleon saw a ten year old boy wear the uniform of a swiss corporal, while another stole a captain's sword and continually skewered the dead man's body with it. Children joined in the barbarism, kicking heads in the courtyard as if they were soccer balls.
Here and there, killers went to work, hacking the wounded to pieces. Napoleon was disgusted, but he had to do something.
He managed to at least save one life, catching a Marseillaiss man as he was about to blow the brains out of a wounded swiss.
Napoleon rushed to him then said. "Are you a man of the south?"
The man nodded. "So am I!" Napoleon declared "Let us save this wretch!"
The confused Marseillais dropped his musket, and without saying a word, fled.
The massacre lasted for a few hours, and Napoleon vomited as he discovered more bodies inside the palace. Men and women passed him as he lay on the floor by the palace entrance, sickened by the events he had seen. As a trained soldier he was expected to shed blood in the line of duty, but this was too much!
More importantly, it destroyed his idealism. Napoleon remembered his dream, where a government would rule in the interests of the people. How could such a government be ruled by the people who did something as barbaric as this. What about the ideals of the revolution? Where were the people's humanity and respect for the law?
The twenty two year old captain regained his posture, and leaned against the stone wall. He saw that the swiss he had just saved was dead, flies already settling inside his bloodied mouth.
Napoleon put his hands on his face....and wept.....
_________________
"Next to a battle lost, the greatest misery is a battle gained"
|
|
FAQ
Search
Memberlist
Usergroups
Register
Profile
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
