A World Turned Upside Down - A Napoleon TL

Well I don't know about the Royal Navy but Napoleon planned on building 150 new ships to add onto his surviving Navy after winning against Sixth Coalition. That would most likely outnumber the British, probably.

You're TL in in 1827, with Napoleon II. IT's a lot more devellopped than Napoleon's 1812 plans.

I was going on the line of thought that since Britain was an island they would have more experienced sailors. The French would be to busy dealing with interal affairs to keep their sailors on par with the British.

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France also had a much higher population than UK at that point in History. There are a few times in history where the French Navy was equal to the RN at least. One was the Reign of Louis XVI before the French revolution - that's why the American revolution was successful -; another was during the rule of Napoleon III. In both cases, the design of the French ships was superior to the RN ones (at least initially) and the French had had time to train their crews (note that France has a tradition of maritime trade and several regions dependent on the sea). Your TL is straight in the middle of this. OTL, the french navy was completely neglected by the Bourbons, which is why the French had to strat again from scratch; this does not happen in your TL.
 
You're TL in in 1827, with Napoleon II. IT's a lot more devellopped than Napoleon's 1812 plans.
That was just a starting point. I would expect the French Navy to have grown more.


France also had a much higher population than UK at that point in History. There are a few times in history where the French Navy was equal to the RN at least. One was the Reign of Louis XVI before the French revolution - that's why the American revolution was successful -; another was during the rule of Napoleon III. In both cases, the design of the French ships was superior to the RN ones (at least initially) and the French had had time to train their crews (note that France has a tradition of maritime trade and several regions dependent on the sea). Your TL is straight in the middle of this. OTL, the french navy was completely neglected by the Bourbons, which is why the French had to strat again from scratch; this does not happen in your TL.
Oh, well that makes sense. To be honest i'm not all that knowledgeable on navies and naval warfare. I still do think that Trafalgar would have a lasting impact on the French Navy, even if Napoleon did come out on top. The French did lose even with superior numbers after all.
 
A Modern Caesar

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Ambush by Unknown, 1876​


London, England
The United Kingdom
October 27th, 1827


Wellington sat at his desk in London and stared at a map on a wall across the room from him. It was colored Red and Blue, Red were his forces and Blue were Republicans. Unfortunately the War had been going kind of bad for him and the Monarchy. While a combination delaying tactics and have kept the Republicans at bay. Calvary raids on their supply lines have also tripped them up, which kept the two armies in Scotland and Wales from linking up. The War in Wales was harsh, as the locals were bitterly divided. Wellington and his men had his supporters, as did the Republicans. They would frequently raid towns and kill anybody who fought back. Both sides have tried to keep a lid on this...this barbarism but to limited effect. Wellington had just learned one of his regiments was ambushed and almost decimated near Lampeter by Greenbacks*. It was humiliating. To top it all off Ireland has raised its own flag for independence. Dublin and Cork have already fallen and Wellington was about to evacuate and let them have it. He was stretched too thin. This day could not get any worse. He heard a knock on the door and his face fell, he could tell it was bad news. It always was.

"Come in." Wellington said resignedly

The door opened up and Robert Dundas walked in. He was the First Lord of Admiralty, replacing William. It took Wellington completely by surprise.

"Don't tell me. The Republicans managed to capture a few ships?" Wellington joked.

"I wish sir. If only." Dundas said simply.

"What? What's wrong Robert?" Wellington asked, this time more seriously. Wellington rose to get the paper but Robert put it in his pocket.

"The French have moved their fleet to the Channel, the Royal Navy is on its way, but with the new ships of the line...we are to outnumbered to do much. All signs point to an invasion. The paper tells of our first clash with the French. Three of our ships of hte line engaged with five of theirs. However, during the battle six more French ships ambushed ours. Not one ship escaped. Not even the Victory." Robert said.

Wellington took a step back. He felt like he just got hit with a boulder. France was clearing the Channel for an invasion and the Victory had been lost. This was crushing. He would have to move forces from Scotland or from Wales to even begin to counter Napoleon's force. That would allow the Republicans to punch through the line and link up. It would mean the end of his government and of the Monarchy. This...he did not know what to do.

Wellington fell into his chair with a dazed expression. "I know it's a lot to take in. I am going to move the Royal Navy around the Isles and have all our available ships meet up in Northumbria. Then...then we can start the evacuations." Robert said sadly.

"Well...I...uh." Wellington began, but then he stopped. He had no idea what to do, he was finally at a loss for words. He already was demonized by the populace for losing the Peninsular War, and then for the State of Emergency, but now...well.

"I understand if you need some time to digest this. I did to." Robert said.

"How old is that report?" Wellington asked.

"A few days, the battle happened on the 20th." Robert said.

"And you didn't alert me sooner!" Wellington said, anger in his voice rising. He did not know why he was getting angry at Robert, but he needed to vent. "You kept this from me for an entire week! The Kingdom is coming apart at the seams with every conceivable faction of our country rising in arms against it! Hell, I am getting reports of drunken idiots in Morpeth declaring Northumbria independent. That paper is the single most important event in British if not World History and you keep it from me for an entire week! You are fired! I want you out!" Wellington practically screamed. After he was done he sat back down for a second while Robert stood there stunned "You heard me correctly, get out at once. Tell the rest of the Cabinet that the to are dismissed. I am to be the only one at the helm of this ship since obviously I cannot trust anybody but myself!" Wellington said forcefully.

Robert stood there for another second, nodded then left without another word. As soon as he left his wife, Catherine, walked in with anger on her face.

"What was that?" she asked sweetly. She knew when Arthur was angry

"Oh nothing, just cleaning out the filth." Wellington said disdainfully.

"You mean becoming a dictator?" she retorted.

"I am not a dictator." Wellington said

"Oh, how about a Ceaser?" Catherine asked

"That isn't fair." Wellington said as he began to calm down

"How? You just fired your entire Cabinet and took over complete control of the government after you led your army into London. That is what Caesar did to take power." Catherine pointed out

"But he kept valuable information from me for a week!" Wellington retorted

"Yes, he did. Not the entire Cabinet." Catherine pointed out

"...You got me there. I was angry and...well...this would be justified in the end. It eliminates all the messiness that comes with bureaucracy." Wellington reasoned\

"Or you could have just worked with the Cabinet. You know nothing about running a country or using a navy." Catherine said. There was silence for a moment and Catherine was about to leave when Wellington finally spoke.

"I never wanted it like this. I didn't intend to take full control, but I can't go back on my declaration now." he said quietly.

"Yes you can. Just go out and reinstate the Cabinet." Catherine insisted.

"No, I must stand firm. This is for the best. How about we go back to the room and cheer each other up." Wellington said.

"I don't consort with Caesars." Catherine said simply before leaving

*Militant Republican supporter. Named for their trademark green uniform.
 
Okay, my computer has been a d-bag lately and has been having multiple crashes so this is not dead, my computer is just an idiot.
 
Okay, finally did it.

One Last Gamble

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The Emperor Napoleon, citra 1827


Dover, England
The United Kingdom
November 18th, 1827


Wellington stood on the cliffs and watched the French across the Channel. They had been gathering ships at Calais for weeks now. No doubt they were being loaded with troops and supplies. There had to be at the very least 30 already loaded with another 20 set to still be loaded. Among all the familiar sails were distinct smokestacks of the new French windless fleet. Napoleon I had been stubborn and refused to even consider them, his successors were more forwards thinkers it seemed. He spotted 13 steamers in the fleet so far, but no doubt more were around, waiting for any poor sod to come and try to interrupt the loading. Wellington had given specific orders not to engage the French, their numbers were too great to dent, but that had not stopped a few poor, brave sods from attempting it. He watched as they were sunk and its survivors captured. It pained him to see it, but he couldn't do anything to save them. The Royal Navy had been humbled after many skirmishes with the French in the waters around the Island. The RN now never left port unless in a group. Even then they only patrolled the waters of Northumbria and Scotland as anymore south they would be found and sunk. It was a disgrace that pained Wellington, but it was disgrace he had to take.

Suddenly he heard someone walk up behind him. Wellington turned to see Alexander Cochrane. He immediately knew what he wanted.

"Sir, I plead with you. Let my fleet free! We have steamers to you know." Cochrane said.

"For the last time Alexander, I will not waste my ships in a fruitless battle." Wellington said.

"Arthur please! If we do nothing French forces will be on our shores in days!" Cochrane said.

"Im not Arthur, i'm sir. You know that. Anyway, that is why i'm here. To destroy them when they land." Wellington said as he turned his attention back to the Channel.

"Sir. You know as well as I do the French are formidable fighters. How many professional units could you spare from the Scottish and Welsh lines?" Cochrane asked.

"26 regiments of the line and 4 Dragoon Regiments." Wellington said, not turning around.

"You and I both know that won't be enough." Cochrane began.

"That is defeatist talk!" Wellington said suddenly. He turned and walked toward Cochrane who stood firm. "What are you getting at Admiral?" he asked.

"I was just saying that you don't have enough men, defeating them at sea is your only option." Cochrane said.

Wellington glared at Cochrane for a moment before again returning to the beaches. He was right, Wellington had not the troops to hold off the French. He was delaying the inevitable. After thinking on it for a second Wellington finally spoke.

"Cochrane. How many ships can you muster?" Wellington asked.

"I would say about 50 or so, but I would have to work with the Admirals to agree and..." Cochrane began but he was again interrupted by Wellington.

"No you do not. I am naming you High Admiral of the Royal Navy. You command the entire Navy now, do not make me regret this." Wellington said.

"Well...uh....well that means I can get 100 ships, easy." Cochrane finished.

"How many steamers?" Wellington asked.

"Well, I can get about 30 or so. I will have to check." Cochrane said.

"Okay, they can give you an advantage over the unarmed transports the French have." Wellington said. "I will allow you free reign in your plan to interrupt the landings. Do it soon however, before they set off. I say, I would like a plan in three days and the fleets ready ASAP. There is no time to waste." Wellington said.

Cochrane gulped as Wellington's orders set in. He was the Kingdom's last line of defense now. If he failed, the landings would go on unopposed at sea and the Kingdom would be destroyed. Cochrane gave a grunt of approval and walked off to plan the most important naval battle of the 19th century.
 
The Lion Strikes Back

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The Battle for Civilization By: Jules Bastien-Lepage​

Off the coast of Calais, France
The English Channel
November 30th, 1827


Alexander Cochrane stood on his flagship, the HMS Northumberland, and listened to the sounds of battle around him. The battle was confusing, reports were conflicting and the area was masked in a thick haze of smoke. Nevertheless they all said that the Royal Navy was doing well. If they were to be believed the French Admiral, Auguste Despointes, had been killed early in the battle. The French were floundering under their new one, whoever that was. This was assuming that their new Admiral had control over the entire fleet. Anyway that did not dismiss the fact of the battle, it was turning into a turkey shoot. Cochrane walked down the deck of the Northumberland and observed the sailors. They had been training for months off the coast of Scotland. The Rebels puny navy (mainly consisting of seized merchant ships) were mere target practice. This made them probably the most deadly weapons in the British arsenal.

Cochrane watched as a French cannonball smashed into the bow. He heard a chorus of surprise shouts as men below deck scrambled to replace whatever was damaged. A few seconds later a loud boom emerged from the hole and smoke wafted up from the cannon. Cochrane smiled.

"Keep firing! Do not give any quarter! These damned Frenchies will be on the bottom of the ocean when we're done!" Cochrane yelled. This was met by a rousing cheer by the men as more cannon boom. Cochrane's smile began to fall as a French ship loomed in the distance and approached. It slowly turned as grappling hooks were thrown from its side. Some fell short but a fair few latched onto the ship's rail and the two ships grew closer.

"Get those grappling hooks off the ship! Cut their lines!" Cochrane urged as he ran forward and slashed a line with his sword. His men needed no encouragement and the entire crew on top deck was frantically cutting lines. However, more kept coming and before long the two ships were side by side. French sailors began to fire from their ship with cannon and rifle fire as the Northumberland returned in kind. Some began to filter across as a fierce up close battle erupted. Sabers clinked and bayonets stabbed bodies. Cochrane, realizing he would be needed, backed away from the battle as men from both ships filtered into the growing confrontation. Cochrane pulled a pistol from his side and fired at an approaching French sailor. It impacted his left pectoral and he fell to the ground, groaning and gasping for air as the air in his right lung failed to fill it. Cochrane then pulled out his saber and stabbed another man in the stomach and kicked him to the ground where he was finished off by his first mate. The First Mate gave Cochrane a nod before turning his attention to another man.

Cochrane turned around to find another French sailor coming at him and he rose his rifle to parry his bayonet. The boy, not any older than 16, fumbled after the parry and dropped his rifle. As he got to his knees to get the rifle Cochrane put his sword on his neck and gave a hard thrust through his neck, killing him.

10 minuets later...

Cochrane sat on a footstool and drew his hands through his hair. Bodies of dead and wounded French and Englishmen littered his deck. The groaning was haunting, like damned souls coming back from the grave. The remaining part of his crew were throwing the dead French overboard and were preparing to deal with the rest. The French boarding party had been destroyed and the French ship lay empty. His men would set it ablaze as it was to damaged to be of any use. Cochrane, in between pants, looked around and observed the battle for the first time in far too long. The French ships were but faint outlines in the smoke screen but he could tell they were breaking off. The British had won.


From: The Battle for Civilization by Alessandro Barbero

What Cochrane did not know is that he had won one of the most decisive naval engagements of at least the 19th century, if not history. The French Channel Fleet was wrecked and scattered to the wind after the battle. [French Fleet Admiral Ferdinand] Hamelin was relieved of command and sent to command a small Mediterranean Squadron, effectively exiled. The French Invasion had been stopped as the steamer transports were not numerous enough to stop the British and were forced to relocate out of the Channel.
 
Convention

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
The United States of America
November 27th, 1827


Otto von Bismarck walked through the large crowd clutching his father's hand tightly. The elder Bismarck grunted as he moved his way through the crowd, dragging his son behind him. He had brought him to expose him to a momentous occasion. Just a year or so ago this party formed, the New Wave Party, and it already was attracting huge crowds to its meetings. Most of them were immigrants or sons and daughters of immigrants, but more and more the party was gathering a strong party base in the NE. With its HQ in Philadelphia it was meeting to begin discussions on putting a candidate forward for the President next year. Bismarck was gaining a deep interest in politics, which was fostered and expanded by his father. Even at his young age he could recognize that this was a turning point in US political history. The US was growing into a two party nation, the Democratic and National Republican parties. While they had wildly varying beliefs and could encompass a massive majority of people, they were too moderate for the New Wave*. They had been living in poverty and been absolutely neglected by the general US populace. The South was a slaveholding bastion in an otherwise civilized society while the North had frankly atrocious workers rights. The New Wavers were dissatisfied and they were going to make their voice heard, whether the Union wanted them to or not.

There was a shout "The Police are here!" in Russian. More shouts of the same words echoed in other languages. Suddenly the whole crowd turned as a mass of blue arrived on the street outside the warehouse the crowd had gathered in. The Bismarcks, deep in the crowd, turned with them to a force they could not see. There was a small but tense silence before a loud booming voice broke it.

"Continue with your meeting! We are here as a precaution! Don't want another riot on our hands" the voice shouted.

Otto knew what he was referencing. A few months earlier a New Wave Party rally in Massachusetts devolved into violence. The police tried to break it up and we fought back, but the papers touted the narrative "Violent Foreigners Riot!" and that...that did not help things. The crowd stared at the police for a few more seconds before a man walked to the podium at the front of the warehouse and began to speak. His loud, rough voice commanded the room. The crowd turned their attention to him as he began to speak. He was tall, almost 6 feet tall at least, with traces of a beard growing on his chin. His chin was also worth mentioning. It looked like it was chiseled from granite and was as hard as stone. His arms looked as if they were oaks and his chest was like a barrel. He was dressed in workers overalls and a old tattered coat that was to small for him. He looked like a man who had been through the worst of what the world had to offer.

"Hello, my name is Arman Dostoevsky. I am a Russian immigrant from St Petersburg and I fully support the cause of the New Wave. To begin, let me once again condemn the institution of slavery. The Southerners have millions in bondage and it's not only immoral, it's barbaric!" he began. That statement was met by a rousing cheer. The elder Bismarck slept into his native German and screamed Freiheit at the top of his aging lungs. Otto followed suit and joined the crowd. After a minute of shouting and rabble it quieted down and Arman resumed.

"Thank you. However, the North, no matter its claims to be the moral high ground, is not much better. While a man can make his own choices in his personal life, I do not think he is truly free. You are the slaves of the North!" Arman declared. This came with another rousing cheer by the crowd. The police outside began to get nervous.

"The big businesses have used your flight from Napoleonic prosecution as a bargaining chip against you! Against us! When I arrived here two years ago I tried to get a job at a local textile factory. I was given a wage that my family of 4 could not survive on. However, as no other local establishment would take me, I was forced to accept! I work three jobs and still almost don't get by! Many of you work more than I! They use us as virtually unpaid labor and I feel that is unacceptable! And when we get home? What do we see?" Dostoevsky asked.

"Prosecution!" the crowd screamed. The building almost shook with the power of the worker. It was exhilarating.

"We are discriminated against by the law! Why? Because we fled a dictator and war to a country that does not want us! Well, they have us, and they will learn to accept us!" Dostoevsky shouted. The crowd again yelled in agreement.

Finally the police intervened. Their numbers had grown and it seemed that every single one of them in the city was at the Convention. They pushed their way through the crowd and stormed the podium. Three of them grabbed him and began to pull him away from the stage. The crowd erupted into anger and began to shout and demand his release. The police chief, a burly man who looked like he had a grown a bear on his face, spoke with an equally as powerful voice.

"I am sorry but by order of the Police Chief of the City of Philadelphia you are all being ordered to disperse. The man, Arman Dostoevsky, is being temporarily detained for provoking anger against the US Government. This is purely a preemptive measure..." the man began. He was cut off as the crowd rushed the podium and the men holding Arman. The elder Bismark firmly grabbed Otto and carried the boy as the Convention erupted into violence.

"I should have known" Bismarck could hear his father mutter to himself as he fled the scene. Otto was actually surprised his father could still carry him, but he did not ask to many questions. When they exited the warehouse Otto's father dropped his child and fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

"Father! Are you okay?" Otto asked

"Yes, I am fine. Just winded. How about you Otto? Are you okay?" he asked as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off.

Otto looked himself over and nodded "Yes, i'm fine." he said.

"Good, come on. Your mother is making dinner, we should get back before she gets worried." he said. Otto nodded in agreement as they began to walk back home.

*New Wavers were the nickname for the wave of immigrants into the US in the wake of Napoleon's victory.
 
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I am anxious to see what kind of person Bismarck will turn into.

He will go into politics, for sure, but I imagine that his political views will be different from OTL.
 
Im going to time jump a year to the 1828 election

An Honorable Defeat

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John Quincy Adams​

New York City, New York
The United States of America
December 6th, 1828


Bismarck once again found himself in a crowd. Only this time it was much larger than the ones of the New Wave. It was freezing outside so he was wrapped up as much as he could, but the cold New York air still chilled his exposed skin. HIs father was elsewhere in the crowd, back towards the back. He was taller than Bismarck and could see over the heads of the crowd. Bismarck was closer to the front, within easy sight of the podium. They had been waiting there for at least five minutes to hear John Adam's defeat speech in the recent election. The election was dirty with accusations thrown by both sides, but mostly at Jackson. The New Wave, still not large enough to realistically field a candidate they backed Adams. He was the "lesser of two evils" according to the Party. That did not sit well with Bismarck, but he could understand the reasoning. Adams fought a hard fight, but he lost. From what the news says he won the North East and a vote or two from Pennsylvania, but that only brought him to 96 which was close, but no cigar. It was a disappointing loss, but it also brought hope that they could win in 1832. Finally the man of the hour arrived and cheers erupted. He was bundled up and pulled a piece (or pieces, Bismarck couldn't quite see) out of his pocket. The man began to speak.

"We ran a good race. However, the people have made their choice clear. They have elected the murderer Andrew Jackson to the Presidency. I ask you not to be angry with this loss; for this was not a total defeat. Our running has smashed the old One Party Jeffersonian system! The National Republicans will run again, and then we will win!" Adams said. He then turned and left the podium. There was a little rumble from the crowd at the length of the speech, but the crowd dispersed without issue. Bismarck turned and walked back to his father who was talking to a man with a large face. He had grey, slicked back hair with a serious look on his face. Bismarck looked at him then at his father then back at the man. Finally his father looked at him and nodded.

"Otto, this is Enos T Throop. He is the Governour of this fine state. He supported Jackson in the recent election. We were just talking about politics and things of that sort" he said.

Throop turned to Bismarck and gave him a nod "So you are Otto von Bismarck?" he asked

"The one and only" Otto responded simply

"Your father tells me of your interest in politics. Who did you support in the election?" he asked.

"Adams of course." Bismarck said

"Why did I even ask?" Throop said. He then turned his attention back to Bismarck's father "So you say you are from Germany? May I ask where in Germany?" he asked.

"Saxony. Why?" Bismarck's father asked.

"Just wondering. I like to know about whom I am talking to. Are you a citizen yet?" Throop asked.

"As of a few months a go yes, yes I am. Why? Were you going to deport me?" the elder Junker asked.

"What? No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it. I was just wondering, would you like a position in the government?" Throop asked

"What?" the Junker asked

"You come from Germany and you said you were a Junker, that means it stands to reason you have some sort of administrative experience." Throop said.

"Well..I did serve in the military for a time." the Junker said.

"Military huh? Well, I have to go now, but I will be in touch." Throop said before leaving.

Bismarck's father watched him leave for a second before turning, grabbing his son's hand, and leaving.
 
Crap, I completely forgot about this! Im back tho!

The Eastern Question

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Greek Army, 1829​

Megara, Rumelia Eyalet
The Ottoman Empire
January 3rd, 1829


Pierre walked off the ship and into the Port of Megara. It was a bustling port even being so close to the Front. The Empress, at the behest of the Regency, had taken action in the War after months of indecision. Rumor has it that Russia was contemplating also intervening in the War in favor of the Greeks. If they did and Greece was freed it would weaken the Ottoman Empire significantly and possibly inspire more revolts. That would leave the Empire open to be cut up by the Russians. So that is why Pierre and the 3rd Army was here. They were going to lead the assault into Athens to declare to both the Ottomans and the world that France was behind the Empire.

Pierre found one of his military buddies, Napoleon*, leaning on a barrel of rum. He was a young man, 25 with blonde hair and a strong body, he was the picture of health. That was in stark contrast of Pierre, a 36 year old man with greying hair and a thin, almost sickly body. The Army has told him this would be his last assignment, then they would force his retirement.

"Bonjour Napoleon" Pierre said.

"Ah, Bonjour Pierre!" Napoleon said.

"How was the voyage?" Pierre asked.

Napoleon laid back on the barrel and drew his hand through his hair. "Well, it was hot as hell. The men kept getting sea sick to so that was not fun to have to witness. Other than that though it was okay." Napoleon said.

Pierre nodded understandingly, his voyage was not much different. Pierre gave Napoleon a curt nod and walked off to prepare for the assault later today.



Three Hours Later, Attica Basin

Pierre marched across the Attica Basin with a large smile on his face, he couldn't get rid of it. In front of him was Athens, center of Western democracy and here he was on his way there. Pierre was a man of culture and regretted the damage that would inevitably come about from the battle. The Acropolis was visible even from this distance and left Pierre almost awestruck. It was a shame it was so badly damaged back in the 1600s. Pierre's wonder was cut short however when a cannonball tore a hole in the line a few men to his left. Screams and silence both suddenly poured across the battlefield. Pierre was apparently visibly shaken because a burly hand appeared on his shoulder from behind him and was followed by a disembodied voice.

"I served in Spain, Russia, and Aquitaine. This is nothing compared to them." it said.

Pierre turned behind him to see a muscular man looking at him with a slight smirk on his face. He had a deep scar across his left eye which was a pale white. He most definitely was a veteran. Pierre took a deep breath and turned back and saw they were approaching the city. However, weirdly, there was no small arms fire from the Greeks within the city. Pierre noticed that outside of the artillery shelling they were taking Athens with absolutely no resistance. Even the artillery however has noticeably stopped however. He heard the man behind him grunt as they approached.

"What do you make of this?" Pierre asked him

"I don't like it. I heard stories from Warsaw and this might end up much like that. Maybe worse since the city is smaller, more compact." the man said with a calmness that was slightly unsettling.

Everybody had heard about the fierce fighting in Warsaw and it sacred Pierre. If this was even going to be half as bad, Pierre didn't know if he was going to survive. Suddenly however the army came to a halt behind its commanders. Pierre soon saw why as a small party of three waving a white flag fashioned from a undershirt tied to a branch. The party made its way across the small distance between the army and the city and approached their commander, Bernard Magnan. The talking was quiet and quick before the Greeks turned and walked back to the city, noticeably defeated. Magnan turned to his army beaming and rose his saber to the air.

"The cowardly Greeks have surrendered their city to us without a fight! The mere presence of the mighty French Army was enough to scare them to the bone! Men, we have won!" Bernard yelled. A cheer erupted almost instantaneously from the French Army. It seemed the pierce the sky as suddenly, almost as God himself were celebrating, the sun peeked out from the cloudy sky. Pierre jumped for joy, the French had won without firing a shot.


* Napoleon became a popular name in France after Napoleon's ascendancy to the Emperorship.
 
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