My latest Napoleonic unit is this disreputable battalion of French scallywags and ne’er-do-wells … which never actually  existed in real life. So why did I paint this fictional unit?

Well, earlier this year I painted the British 3rd Battalion of Detachments, another mythical set of 28mm wargames figures produced by Warlord Games. This latest made-up French unit is part of the same series of figures.

Together, the two sets are reminiscent of the type of larger-than-life characters that might be found in Bernard Cornwell’s ‘Sharpe’ novels.

These miniatures are cast in resin, and each figure is a masterpiece of character and individuality. Not one man is alike.

I love the range of paraphernalia that these men are carrying on their backs – everything from pots and pans, spoons, firewood, tools, lanterns, breadsticks and even a stolen pig!

The flag that came in the boxed set is for the 73e Régiment d’Infanterie de Ligne. But I felt it was a little bit too big compared to the flags of my other French units. I happened to have a spare GMB Designs flag for the 2e Régiment, so gave them that instead.

To be honest, my painting has got lazier over the years. I used to do lots of layers of shading and highlighting, with each figure as perfectly detailed as I could get it. But now I rely on the quick and dirty job done with a single coat of GW Contrast Paints. The results don’t bear close-up scrutiny, but are totally suitable for viewing on a tabletop.

Warlord Games also wrote a back-story for this fictional unit. Here it is, slightly  adapted by me to suit the way I’ve painted my battalion:

After General Pierre Dupont’s defeat at Bailén in 1808, large numbers of French troops were captured. Those that survived the subsequent forced march to Cadiz were incarcerated aboard a number of prison hulks – decommissioned warships turned into floating gaols. Conditions aboard were vile, and many prisoners would perish from disease, mistreatment, or malnutrition. Mutinies were not uncommon, although the savage punishments meted out for even the smallest misdemeanours meant that successful escapes were few and far between indeed.

One such attempt was that of Chef de Battalion Francois Léon de Rochebaron and a small band of hardened cutthroats from the prison hulk ‘Vielle Castille’. An old three-decker with an ill-starred history, having served in French and British hands before being recaptured by the Spanish, the ‘Vielle Castille’ was known locally as the ‘Ship of the Dead’ for the squalor and misery endured by its occupants.

It is unknown precisely how de Rochebaron made his escape, but in the ensuing carnage the ‘Vielle Castille’ was burnt down to the waterline with hundreds of casualties. By the time the smoke cleared, de Rochebaron and dozens of French veterans had escaped into the Spanish countryside.

Francois Léon de Rochebaron was a patriotic and loyal man, as well as a charismatic leader. He led his rag-tag band of escapees back to French lines, intending to rejoin the war effort, and collecting other stragglers along the way. A man of breeding who had cast aside the trappings of the Ancién Regime during the Revolution, de Rochebaron had been significantly changed by his time in captivity. Once considered a scrupulously honourable man, he rejoined the French forces as a hardened veteran of partisan warfare, utterly without mercy to his foes.

Considered unsuitable for regular service, de Rochebaron was instead placed in command of an irregular unit of men caught in similar circumstances, which soon earned the moniker of ‘les Bouchers’. These ‘butchers’ certainly lived up to their name, proving devastatingly effective and savagely thorough in action against Spanish partisans and British patrols alike, sowing brutality on the battlefield and leaving bloody carnage in their wake.

Made up of men from across the French army, les Bouchers boasted some truly colourful characters:

Louis ‘Fripe-Sauce’ Masson had escaped a charge of attempting to poison his commanding officer when it was proven that he was simply a truly awful cook, and would go on to serve as the unit’s drummer, beating the pas de charge with his faithful (if somewhat vicious) poodle, Fifi, trailing along beside him.

Vincent Glaza bore an Eagle of uncertain origin and served as the ‘moral’ backbone of the unit. A staunch Revolutionary, he would often be found sermonising to his fellow soldiers – whether they wanted to listen or not!

Mathieu Chamont and Philippe Berthet were inveterate looters, eager to carry off anything not nailed down (and, in fairness, quite a few things that had been nailed down, courtesy of Berthet’s sapper’s axe!).

Victor Gaillard was a sheer brute of a man, a bare-knuckle boxer from the docks of Marseille with a deep-seated loathing for all things Spanish. Villages quailed at the mere mention of his name, and his casual brutality towards those he perceived as weaker than himself made him an unpopular figure of fear amongst even his fellows.

Little ‘Jean-Jean’ Morel had been a career criminal before conscription, and in les Bouchers found a welcome home for his particular talents as a forger. Rations fit for an Emperor and brand-new muskets would, from time to time, find themselves diverted to a remote Spanish village where les Bouchers just so happened to be holed up, with irate and confused drivers discovering that, miraculously, the requisition paperwork was perfect!

At Grijo, les Bouchers, after months of terrorising the local populace and skirmishing with partisans, ran into a force their equal in notoriety, if not quite their savagery – the British 3rd Battalion of Detachments. In the bitterly contested skirmish that followed, de Rochebaron was seen duelling the British Ensign Digby St. Leger, who lost an eye in the combat, while Fifi engaged in a savage dogfight with the Third’s regimental mascot, Duchess. Les Bouchers claimed victory at Grijo, but given that the Third did likewise, this claim must be taken with a significant pinch of salt.

The eventual fate of les Bouchers is unknown – most likely they were either destroyed during the eventual withdrawal to France, or simply folded into another unit as reinforcements after one of the great later battles of the Peninsular Campaign.

In games of ‘Black Powder’, les Bouchers are rated as a French Line Infantry Battalion (using the rules from ‘Albion Triumphant Volume One’), with the additional special rules Bloodthirsty and Brave. In addition, if they are classed as a Victorious Unit after close combat, their only option is to do Nothing – this represents les Bouchers dispatching their wounded foes (and stripping them of all valuables)!

OK, anyone who knows their Napoleonic history will immediately be scoffing at me, saying there was never was a British 3rd Battalion of Detachments. And they’d be right – there wasn’t!

But this is a completely fictional unit, the brainchild of Warlord Games. They’ve produced a set of ragged British veterans, and an accompanying set of just as ragged French. And they’ve written made-up backstories for both units.

As the Warlord Games blurb states: These are battle-hardened, dishevelled men, haggard from their long campaign on the Spanish Peninsular. Such men have long abandoned the practice of maintaining their uniforms, with discipline but a distant memory. Ragged and patchy, some have had to seek alternative clothing, making do with whatever they can borrow, scavenge or even wilfully pilfer – which was technically punishable by death.

I enjoyed painting these chaps. Every one is an individual character, with different kit, clothing and demeanour. They certainly exemplify Wellington’s famous description of ‘scum of the Earth’.

I’ve also got the French set – they’re next in my painting queue.