The SS Nap

The SS Napoleon is taking on water. Many police rushing to her aid. All want to help her, to ease the many paynes of her final hours. She is an evil ship though, much taken by other Arab galleys, and much given over to Arab hyperbole. Maybe the chief petty officer will order the band to play the Marseiilaise as she slips below. She was an evil ship, full of dark dead men's bones. 16 men on a dead captain chest. A bottle of rum for the twin boys who fired the fatal shot. She is running low on cheese. 

No sunsets ever

Funny that in all the skirmishes at sea, between Wellington and Napoleon, there are two ships that never do sink, despite all the ships sinking around them, in their own carefully orchestrated set piece naval battles. I am referring to two captains on two ships that are supposed to be on opposite sides, but which are always synchronised. These two captains, Capt Toy and Capt Cheese, on the SS Napoleon and the HMS Charlotte Corday; maybe Marshall Grey and Admiral Cheese are stoking each other's charcoal supplies while playing possum in all battles. The Corday and the Nap, two very solitary frigates. 

Sunset

So as Napoleon tries to get away, his carriage is pursued and intercepted and he is taken prisoner. And today his burgundy cloak plus carriage will be put on display at Windsor castle armoury rooms. Splice the mainbrace, tis time to celebrate with a bottle of rum.

Sunset for another republican era. 

Time to head for home and Charlestown in Cornwall me hearties. Waterloo was a wash. Republicans away. Dr Byrd come in number 7, time to wax lyrical. A close run thing, says Wellington, but Napoleon was beaten by a siesta and an over confident nincompoop general on his own side. Waterloo was not necessary in fact at all, and it cost Napoleon his freedom. Wellington retires to London with his generals and presides over a banquet celebrating the victory, while Napoleon goes into exile. 

So there it is

Life over easily. The imperial guard surrounded. Napoleon in his carriages, getting away.

Sunset for a France without a king.

A long road without end.

Napoleon captured on the road to Eric Bourgeois's house at Lille.

Oh an overture

Good golly miss Molly laddies, the French think the battle is over and have charged up the hill to pursue and cut down the apparently fleeing allies, only to be met by heavy muskets on the far side of the ridges from the scots highlanders. Napoleon has come out ... Of his tent, and screamed at the soldiers, "which son of a gun ordered all the cavalry up the hill without infantry support?!" The French cavalry are now massacred by the highland fighting men. It is all over. The highlanders won the battle of Waterloo begob begob!! Scots win so often.

The Prussians are in the woods. It is all over for old Boney now. Blucher has turned up. Germans are fighting machines and used to battles.

The blacks and greens of the German scouts are now visible.

Old Boney has just put on his burgundy cloak n hood and is brave but knows it is the moment for deserting what is left of his huge army. He is fleeing the field. By rights with such a huge army, he should have won, and easily put Wellington to flight. But the Irish troops of Wellington were a fixed mien and an experienced foe, and though Scotland had its day, the larger fates were against him and his iron-clad cavalry were not so good on soft rain soaked ground. Too much. 

1815 be like 1812

Yes, I can hardly believe this report. Apparently the old Irish General has ordered the whole army to move back, to turn tail for 300'paces, taking it over the ridge and out of sight. 

The sunset of all our hopes?

Nope old nosey has ordered the army to withdraw and wait in the corn beyond. Forming the highlanders into squares.

Crikey me hearties, old Boney has gone into his tent for a nap, but his generals have taken the withdrawal as a full-scale retreat, begob begob. And unbelievable. Marshall Ney of the French has ordered all the heavy cavalry up the hill - !!

1815 contd

Well lads, still becalmed out here on the Biscay, and the sea cadets are getting impatient. Still it is 3.30 in the après midi and latest reports suggest that scots were brave but hacked down by the polish lancers. Not nice these scenes of après. Very charge of the light brigade at Sevastopol we are told. Some Lord a Cardigan making a humongous name for himself as ever in faraway Scotland. 

End of the roade for the scots greys. But there you go. Like a Dun nottar above. A sunset. 

But can old Nosey pull one back? Wellington was Irish once, can he be subtle again, subtler than old Boney? 

Out of the blue a trumpet call. Not the Prussians of blucher surely? No, nosey is sounding a retreat begob begob. Now what? This cannot be the end!!!!