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Authors: Peter G. Tsouras

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A Rainbow of Blood: The Union in Peril an Alternate History (9 page)

BOOK: A Rainbow of Blood: The Union in Peril an Alternate History
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Alexander read the dispatch for the third time. Then he solemnly
raised his right hand to his forehead, thumb and first two fingers joined
and the remaining two fingers folded onto the palm, crossed himself in
the Orthodox fashion from right to left, and fell to his knees before his
astonished servants and family hastily roused from their beds.26 Tears
welled in his eyes. Raising his arms he exclaimed, "Slava Bogu!" - glory
to God!27

 

VERMILLIONVILLE, LOUISIANA, 1:20 PM OCTOBER 21, 1863

"Here they come!" the Union signalman shouted from his makeshift
perch in a tree. For Maj. Gen. Nathaniel Banks's Army of the Gulf, used
to the drabness of dark blue or butternut and gray, the sight of the advancing French was more than memorable; it was the ultimate martial
fashion statement. The Confederate division on their left went hardly
noticed.

On they came in a rapid, ordered advance across the open ground
that stretched out before the Union positions. The quickening sound
of their drums ran before them as their tricolor standards topped with
their imperial eagles waved overhead. Squadrons of cavalry swarmed
ahead of the infantry to drive in the Union cavalry pickets. These were
the Chasseurs d'Afrique, bitterly named by the Mexicans, and the Los Carcinceros Azul (The Blue Butchers) for their ferocity and their light blue
jackets above stylish baggy red trousers. Raised in North Africa from
French colonists to subdue the Muslim populations, they had come by
their ferocity honestly. One of their regimental colors bore the Legion
d'Honneur for the capture of Mexican colors earlier that year. In reserve
were squadrons of the Chasseurs a Cheval in brown tunics and Hussars in
green with their lambskin hushys. Most impressive of all were the lancers in sky blue jackets and red trousers with Polish helmets and white
and red pennants whipping from their lances.'

Behind them came the infantry, with the lignards, or regular infantry, of the 7th, 51st, 62nd, 81st, and 95th Regiments de Ligne in their new
yellow-piped, dark blue tunics ending just below the belt and derisively
described by critics as a masterpiece of les stupidites du mode. Fashionably dressed or not, the men wearing them were hard-bitten, long-service veterans, many of whom had fought in North Africa, the Crimea, Italy, and
Mexico. Their dark blue tunics flared at the shoulders with red-fringed
epaulets; blue kepis were covered with white covers and sun guards.
Their baggy red trousers - les pantaloons rouge - and white gaiters had
become the mark of the French infantry since 1829. With them were
the exotic 1st, 2nd, and 3rd regiments of Zouaves, one of the numerous French units of l'Armee d'Afrique developed in the colonializaton of
North Africa and clothed on exotic, native models. Instead of the kepi,
they wore a blue-tasseled, red fez, a short and open blue jacket with
red piping, and an extremely baggy version of the pantaloons rouge, a la
Zouave. They were the only regiments in the French Army allowed to
grow full beards, of which they took luxurious advantage. The Zouave
regiments had seen considerable action in Napoleon III's numerous
wars and had acquired an elite reputation. The 2nd Regiment, "The
Jackals of Oran," had been the first to adorn its colors with the Legion
d'Honneur for capturing an Austrian color at Magenta in Italy. In the
same war, the 3rd Regiment had been famously referred to as the furia
francese by their Piedmontese allies.2

A fourth Zouave regiment was formed for the recreated Imperial
Guard of the emperor. To fill the new Guard regiment, the other Zouave
regiments had been cherry-picked during the Crimean War for their
best men. The new regiment had baptized itself in blood by storming
the Malakoff Fort, where half of them died for their first victory. At Magenta in 1859, they shattered the Austrians, winning ten crosses of the
Legion d'Honneur. They were distinguished from the other line Zouave
regiments by the yellow piping of their jackets and the red-, white-, and
blue-striped soft fez.3 The Emperor had hinted broadly to the French
Army commander, Maj. Gen. Francois Achille Bazaine, that they not be
stinted of glory. The Zouaves of the Guard would not be denied.

Rounding out the French force were four battalions of skilled light
infantry, Chasseurs a Pied, in dark blue tunics and light blue trousers,
spread out as skirmishers ahead of the line regiments.

Napoleon III tread heavily on the glories of his incomparable uncle,
the first and, many would say, the only Napoleon. One of these was to
reissue the colors of the armies in a grand ceremony on the Champ de
Mars in 1851. The chief change was to add the imperial eagles to the tricolor. By 1860 this was an 18 cm, cast-aluminum eagle topping a dark
blue staff. The front of the color bore the words, "L'Empereur Napoleon III
an ... Regiment," and on the rear the regiment's battle honors.4

The French colonial experience in North Africa had done more than
influence the fashion of the French Army. Its harsh arena had developed
deadly light cavalry. That experience also had found a perfect home for
another French experiment, La Legion Etrangere (the Foreign Legion).
Founded in 1831 as a way to rid France of foreign social undesirables, it
was stationed in Algeria. Now the entire legion, a single regiment, took
its place in the French line, distinguished by their white trousers. Major
General Bazaine had served with this band of cutthroats and thieves,
and though he appreciated their fighting skills, he had no illusions about
their nature. They were the greatest source of desertion in the French
Army in Mexico, and Bazaine stated matter-of-factly, "I shall have some
of them shot.... It is quite clear that a good many of them enrolled in the
corps to get a free trip, but it shall cost them dearly if they are caught."5

Napoleon III had another colonial rum lot to send to Mexico in a
battalion of the Infanterie Legere d'Afrique (African Light Infantry) made
up of military convicts who had served their sentences but had time
left in their enlistments. Naturally, they had been sent to North Africa,
where any tendency to mischief would be less noticeable than in France.
It would be even less noticeable in Mexico.

Still another colonial experiment was the battalion of the Tirailleurs
Algeriens (Algerian Rifles). These were native North African Berbers
and Arabs who were commonly called Turcos for their brutal fighting
ability.' Another African contingent was a battalion of Sudanese slave
soldiers, the oddest of the units sent to Mexico. Napoleon III had pressured the ruler of Egypt for black African troops, whom the French
rightly believed would be more resistant to the yellow fever that was
felling French troops attempting to keep open lines of communication
called the Fever Road, from Mexico City through the coastal tierra caliente
(hot land) to Vera Cruz. Napoleon had asked for a regiment of Sudanese;
the pasha coughed up a battalion. Muslim slavers had sold them to the
Egyptian government, which followed an ancient Muslim custom of
training African slaves as soldiers. To the terror of the Mexicans, they
quickly proved their worth.7 Marching out of Galveston in their sky-blue Zouave-type uniforms, they had excited the hard stares of the Texans
and the immense curiosity of their slaves.

ONE MILE WEST OF VERMILLIONVILLE, LOUISIANA,
2:10 PM, OCTOBER 21, 1863

A long-range shot from a distant Union battery hit and bounced along
the bare ground straight toward Walker's Texas Division. Every eye
could see it from the moment its strike sent the dirt flying. Its second
bounce took it straight into the cavalcade of French officers riding in
front of the Texans. The shot tore off the legs of the lead rider's horse and
then drove through the ranks of the infantry.

The stricken horse screamed in agony as it writhed on the ground,
its forelegs gushing stumps. Its rider, Major General Bazaine, had leaped
off with the quickness of a cat, pulled his pistol, and put his horse out
of its misery. In an instant he was surrounded by his anxious aides
and Confederate escorts. He laughed, "Le bal commence, messieurs!" and
waved them off to walk over to the Texans whose ranks had dressed
around the gory gauge left by the ball. He had been running a practiced
eye over the ranks of these men when the shot struck.

If ever there was judge of fighting men, it was Bazaine. He had left
school to enlist as a private in the French Army in North Africa and had
fought in every war in which the tricolor had waved, covering himself
with glory, honors, and wounds. His feats in the Crimea had earned
him France's highest honor, as well as the ultimate praise from France's
ancient enemy when the British had awarded him the Order of the Bath.
He had been largely responsible for the destruction of the Mexican Army
at Puebla at the end of May and had led the first French troops into Mexico City. The men of the Foreign Legion held an especially dear place in
his esteem for he had fought and bled often with them. These Texans reminded him of them, though they were obviously cleaner and undoubtedly more virtuous. Their ranks had barely stirred when the shot plowed
through them, dealing death in a spray of blood.

Bazaine inquired after the wounded and congratulated the regimental commander on the fine appearance of his men. By appearance
he did not mean their ragged butternut and gray but their lean and hungry look, their gleaming rifles, and their discipline under fire. He said
loud enough to be overheard, "Les brave gens, les brave gens!"(The brave fellows, the brave fellows!) as another horse was led up to him. He knew
the compliment would leap the language barrier, as it always did. It had
come as a surprise to him how many Confederates, especially from Louisiana, spoke French well.

As they rode off, he turned to the Confederate brigadier general
who served as his escort and liaison. "Well, I think, Your Highness, that
these men shall give the Yankees a hard time today." At the age of thirtyone, Camille Armand Jules Marie Prince de Polignac cut a magnificent
figure in his uniform of Confederate gray. The Frenchman had traveled
to the Southern states just before the madness of secession had intoxicated them and had offered his services to the young Confederate Army.
His service in the French Army had made him a valuable commodity,
and his talent had justified his rise to general officer rank and command
of a brigade under Lt. Gen. Richard Taylor in the Western Louisiana
District.'

BOOK: A Rainbow of Blood: The Union in Peril an Alternate History
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