The Camp-fires of Napoleon
Around one of the fires in the vicinity of the tent of the commander-in-chief, was sitting a group of officers, among whom Bessieres, Duroc, and Augereau were the only men of renown. All ears were opened listening to Bessieres, who was giving an account of Bonaparte’s wonderful exploit that day, in escaping from a surprise at Lonato. He told the story as follows:
“You know that this morning, our commander-in-chief set off for Lonato at full gallop, to personally hasten the movements of the troops. He was accompanied only by his staff and the Guides under my command. We arrived at Lonato about noon. We found that the orders of the general were already carried out; part of the troops were marching upon Castiglione, and the rest were proceeding towards Salo and Gavardo. About a thousand men remained at Lonato. Scarcely had the general entered the place, when an Austrian flag of truce presented itself, and the bearer summoned him to surrender. The general started at the summons. He could not understand how it was possible that the Austrians could be so close upon him. But the case was soon explained. The division separated in the battle of Lonato, and driven back upon Salo, had been partly captured; but a body of about four thousand five hundred men had been wandering all night in the mountains; and seeing the town almost abandoned, wanted to enter the place, in order to open for itself an outlet upon the Mincio. General Bonaparte had no time to fight a battle, or perhaps he would have done it, even with his force of one thousand men. His plan was formed with his usual quickness and decision. He ordered all the officers about him to mount their horses, and then, the bearer of the flag to be brought before him, with his eyes uncovered; for, as usual on such occasions, the officer was blindfolded. You should have seen the Austrian’s astonishment when he found himself in the presence of our general and his staff. ‘Unhappy man!’ said General Bonaparte, ‘you know not then that you are in the presence of the commander-in-chief, and that he is here with his whole army. Go tell those who sent you, that I give them five minutes to surrender, or I will put them to the sword to punish the insult which they have dared to offer me.’ The astonished bearer of the flag returned with this message to his general. In the meantime, General Bonaparte prepared his small force for action. The Austrian then asked him to propose terms of capitulation. But our general, knowing the importance of immediate action, replied—‘No, you must become at once prisoners of war.’ The Austrian hesitated, but when General Bonaparte ordered his artillery and grenadiers to advance to the attack, the enemy surrendered; and thus, without striking a blow, four thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry surrendered themselves prisoners of war to about one thousand Frenchmen. We gained, besides, two pieces of artillery.”
A general laugh followed this narrative. All agreed that it was an admirable exploit, and quite worthy of the genius of Bonaparte. At this moment, the young commander-in-chief appeared at the door of his tent. His horse was standing near, and he was quickly mounted. “Come, Bessieres and Duroc,” said he in a sharp voice, “we will go over the field.” So saying, he rode away, leaving the officers addressed to follow him as soon as they could. They immediately left the group, which was now joined, however, by Lannes and Berthier, who, wearied out, sought the vacant seats to obtain a short rest.
“Who ever saw the like?” said young Lannes,—he of the tall, stout form, stern countenance, and long, fair hair, parted in the centre. “Such incessant activity! That slender ‘little Corporal’ would tire a host of us. In a few days he has killed five horses with fatigue. He will not entrust any of us with the execution of his important orders. He must see every thing with his own eyes, inquire into every thing, and set every body in a fever of motion by his presence. Such tremendous energy I never knew any other person to possess. I do not believe he sleeps at all. There he goes again, to make his final arrangements for the battle.”
“He will wear himself out too soon, I am afraid,” said Augereau.
“But he will accomplish more in one month than many men could achieve in years. His immortality is already established, and he is but twenty-six,” replied Berthier.
“He will have a glorious opportunity to achieve a decisive victory to-morrow,” said Lannes; “but I doubt whether the battle will be as long and as desperate as that of yesterday.”
“Yesterday was indeed a day of hard fighting, for my division here, at least,” said Augereau. “My troops were completely exhausted, when Liptai’s division was driven from the heights. But how did Junot get cut up in such a way?”
“I’ll tell you,” replied Berthier. “When the Austrian line was broken by the charge of our infantry, one division was driven towards Salo, where Guyeux was posted. General Bonaparte caused it to be pursued, in order to place it between two fires, and General Junot was let loose, with a regiment of cavalry. Junot set off at full speed. He encountered Colonel Bender with a party of his regiment of hussars, whom he charged, with his wonted bravery. But not wishing to waste his time by attacking the rear, Junot made a detour to the right, charged the regiment in front, wounded Colonel Bender and attempted to take him prisoner, when he suddenly found himself surrounded. Of course, he fought like a hero, as he is, and it is said that he killed six of the enemy with his own hand, before he was cut down, and thrown into a ditch. I suppose he will be disabled for some time, which is a real misfortune to the army, as Junot is one of the bravest and most active officers now under General Bonaparte’s command.”
“Yes,” said the generous Lannes, “we shall miss him. He was promoted from the ranks on account of his cool bravery, and he certainly has done honor to the judgment of our general, who first noticed his merit at the siege of Toulon.”
“Still,” said Augereau, “brave men are not scarce in the army of Italy. We shall conquer without Junot, I have no doubt.”
Thus the group continued to converse, until General Bonaparte came up, with Massena and others, and invited them to his tent to receive their final instructions. The quick movements, and rapid, concise speech of the young conqueror indicated the unwearied activity of his mind. He had undergone tremendous exertion, but no trace of it appeared in his bearing. The restless fire of his eye was undimmed; his mind labored as vigorously and with as much precision as if he had been enjoying repose for several days; and the commander of the Guides reported that the general slept but an hour that night.
At the first peep of day, the two armies were in motion. Wurmser, impatient to attack, moved his right along the heights; Bonaparte, to favor this movement, drew back his left, formed by Massena’s division; he kept his centre immovable in the plain. He soon heard Serrurier’s fire. Then, while he continued to draw back his left, and Wurmser to draw out his right, he ordered the redoubt of Medolano to be attacked. At first, he directed twenty pieces of light artillery upon that redoubt, and after briskly cannonading it, he detached General Verdier, with three battalions, to storm it. That brave general advanced, supported by a regiment of cavalry, and took the redoubt. The left flank of the Austrians was thus exposed at the very moment when Serrurier, arriving at Cauriana, excited alarm upon their rear. Wurmser immediately moved part of his second line upon his right, now deprived of support, and placed it en potence to front the French, who were debouching from Medolano. He took the remainder of his second line to the rear, to protect Cauriana, and thus continued to make head against the enemy. But Bonaparte, seizing the opportunity with his accustomed promptness, immediately ceased to avoid engaging his left and his centre, and gave Massena and Augereau the signal which they were impatiently awaiting. Massena with the left, Augereau with the centre, rushed upon the weakened line of the Austrians, and charged it with impetuosity. Attacked so briskly on its entire front, and threatened on its left and its rear, it began to give ground. The ardour of the French increased. Wurmser seeing his army jeopardized then gave the signal for retreat. He was pursued, and some prisoners were taken. To put him completely to the rout, it would have been necessary to make much more haste, and to push him while in disorder upon the Mincio. But for six days the troops had been constantly marching and fighting; they were unable to advance further, and slept on the field of battle. Wurmser had on that day lost no more than two thousand men, but he had nevertheless lost Italy.
That night, the first time for five days, Bonaparte enjoyed the sweets of repose. The anxiety was at an end—Italy was his own.
THE CAMP-FIRE AT ARCOLA
The indomitable Bonaparte had nearly destroyed the army of Wurmser. The laurels of Roveredo, Bassano, and Saint George, adorned his young brow, beside those of Monte Notte, Lodi and Castiglione. Within ten days, he had carried positions, the natural difficulties of which seemed to defy human assault, killed or captured about twenty thousand men, and taken artillery and stores which were almost an encumbrance to his gallant little army. His brave officers, Massena, Augereau, Bessieres, Murat, Berthier, Lannes, and the rest, had heaped up their titles to immortal renown. To use the language of Thiers, “France was lost in admiration of the commander-in-chief of the army of Italy.”
Still, Bonaparte’s situation was rapidly becoming one of startling peril. Austria redoubled her efforts to recover Lombardy. A fine army was prepared from the wrecks of Wurmser, the troops from Poland and Turkey, the detachments from the Rhine, and fresh recruits. Marshal Alvinzi was appointed to the command. Bonaparte’s army at this time numbered about thirty thousand men, but they were badly provided, while Alvinzi could bring sixty thousand men into the field. On the 1st of November, 1796, the Austrian commander advanced upon the Brenta. At first, the French fell back, but Bonaparte resolved to strike a blow at the onset of this new series of movements, which would break the spirit of the enemy. The action took place on the 5th, between Carmignano and Bassano, and after a hot and bloody conflict, the French were victorious. Other contests followed; but in spite of the advantages gained by Bonaparte, he found that unless a great decisive battle was fought, Italy would be lost. The troops began to murmur at the neglect with which their government treated them, and the general complained to the Directory that the majority of his best officers were either killed or disabled by wounds. But in the meantime, Bonaparte conceived a daring plan of action, which, considering the circumstances, stands unparalleled in the annals of war. He resolved to give battle, unexpectedly, amid the marshes of the Adige, where the difference in numbers would be neutralized. Then followed the tremendous battle of Arcola, which lasted seventy-two hours, and ended in the complete triumph of the French.
It was the night of the 17th of November. The sun had set upon a third day of slaughter amid the marshes and upon the plain at Arcola. But with the quiet shadows of evening, came victory to gladden the hearts of the French and their glorious general. Exhausted by the terrible conflict, both armies were to pass the night upon the plain. But the Austrians took care to be beyond the reach of the conquerors and far towards Vicenza. The French kindled their camp-fires upon the field of their triumph. It was a gloomy night. Neither moon nor star smiled in the sky; and the line of the encampments could only be traced by the fires, blazing even among the heaps of the dead, while far away over the plain the long line of Austrian fires could be distinguished. Having partaken of some slight refreshment, the French soldiers were stretched upon the ground around the fires. The majority slept. But to some, wearied as they were in body, sleep would not come, so excited were their minds by the vivid and terrible images of the conflict through which they had passed. The Guides, who had kindled their fires around a little cottage in which Bonaparte had taken quarters for the night, were among the wakeful ones. They had secured for themselves, at the order of the commander-in-chief, abundant refreshments, and now, sitting upon their camp-stools to rest their weary limbs, they discussed both the provision and the glorious achievements of the army of Italy. Their number had been considerably thinned by the great battle through which they had just passed, for they, as well as their general, had been in the thickest of the fire. But there were still Bessieres, the commander, young Lemarois, Duroc, and others of distinction; while among them was, Augereau, who, having been reared in the democratic faubourg St. Antoine, never had any scruples upon the subject of rank, outside of actual military operations. He associated with general and private upon equal terms. The others doubtless considered themselves as honoring the company with their presence; but they could not have formed a part of a more gallant group. Not an officer among them but bore marks of the terrible conflict through which they had passed. Their costume was bespattered with mud, their faces blackened with powder, and some of them had sabre wounds, which, for the time, disfigured their countenances.
“The officers of the army have suffered dreadfully, during these three days of fighting,” said Augereau. “I thought that before the battle we were crippled enough in that way; but only look now. Here’s General Lannes, who was wounded before he went into the conflict, and he now lies low with three more wounds. Verne, Bon, Verdier, and several others are also wounded, while General Robert and the brave Colonel Muiron, who saved General Bonaparte’s life at Toulon, and covered him here again, are killed.”
“This battle will long be deemed a glorious monument of the genius of Bonaparte,” said Bessieres, “I say it with deference, that heroic as are his principal officers, they might have striven in vain against the superior numbers of the enemy, but for the daring and profound combinations of the general-in-chief, while much is also due to his efforts of resolute valor during the struggle.”
“No one will venture to deny that,” said the frank and generous Augereau. Massena merely nodded his head, but left the meaning of the nod unexplained.
“For,” continued Bessieres, “consider the position of the army before the battle. Our army was greatly inferior in numbers to that of Alvinzi, as, in spite of the immense loss of the Austrians, it remains. Our hospitals were full of sick and wounded. The troops were dispirited, because of the shameful neglect with which their government treated them. A large number of our best officers were entirely disabled. Yet an address from General Bonaparte restored confidence to the army, and when, on the night of the 15th, orders were given to the troops to fall back, they obeyed with alacrity, although they believed they were retreating—a movement to which they are unaccustomed, for they supposed that some daring plan had been formed for their glory. When they had recrossed the Adige by the bridge of boats here at Ronco, they found that their confidence in their general had not been misplaced.”
“See then,” said Duroc, “how General Bonaparte availed himself of the advantages of the ground. What other general of this age would have thought of fighting among the marshes. Alvinzi was encamped on the road from Verona to the Brenta. Consequently when General Bonaparte reached Ronco, he found himself brought back on the flanks and nearly on the rear of the Austrians. The army was then amidst extensive marshes, traversed by two causeways, which we were ordered to occupy.
“Now mark the result of his calculations; amidst these marshes numerical advantage was neutralized; there was no deploying but upon the causeways, and on the causeways the courage of the advanced guards of the columns would decide the event. By the causeway on the left, which communicated with the road between Verona and Caldiero, he could fall upon the Austrians if they attempted to scale Verona. By the causeway on the right, which crossed the Alpon at the bridge of Arcola, and terminated at Villa Nova, he might debouch upon the rear of Alvinzi, take his artillery and baggage, and cut off his retreat. He was therefore impregnable at Ronco, and he stretched his two arms around the enemy. He had caused the gates at Verona to be shut, and had left Kilmaine there, with fifteen hundred men, to stand a first assault. This combination, so daring and so profound, struck the army, and inspired them with confidence.”
“It was a grand stroke of genius,” said Massena. “I was stationed on the dike at the left, so as to go up to Gombione and Porcil, and take the enemy in the rear, if he should march to Verona.”
“And I,” observed Augereau, “was despatched to the right, to debouch upon Villa Nova. But before I could advance along the right hand dike, I had to cross the Alpon by the bridge of Arcola. Some battalions of Croats were stationed along the river, and had their cannon pointed at the bridge. They received my advance guard with a rattling fire of musketry, and at first the men fell back. I rode up and did all in my power to push them on, but the fire compelled them to halt. Soon after that, I saw a party of Hungarian cavalry come to inquire into the reason of the firing among the marshes. The Austrian marshal could not understand it. He did not for a moment suppose that General Bonaparte would choose such a field of battle, at least I judge so, from his orders.”
“Ha! ha!” shouted Massena, “you should have seen Rivera leading his division close along the left dike where I was posted. I permitted them to get too far on the dike to retreat, and then dashed upon them at a run. How we tumbled them into the marsh! Ha! ha! The troops shot them by scores, as they floundered in the mud and water. Ha! ha!” It was a grim laugh.
“I did the same for Mitrowski’s division,” said Augereau. “I then pursued, and attempted to pass the bridge, the soldiers gallantly crowding around the flag I held to cheer them on. But they could not stand that tremendous fire. Lannes, Bon, Verne, and Verdier were wounded. In spite of my utmost efforts, the column fell back, and the soldiers descended to the side of the dike, to shelter themselves from the fire.”
“Then came the heroism of the ‘Little Corporal,’” exclaimed Duroc, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm. “He saw from Ronco, that Alvinzi had become sensible of his danger, and was striving to prevent you, brave Guyeux, from taking him in the rear at Villa Nova. He saw that it was of the utmost importance to cross the river at Arcola immediately, if he would gain Alvinzi’s rear, and thus secure great results. Did you see that glorious commander? He set off at full gallop, came near the bridge, threw himself from his horse, went to the soldiers who were crouching down by the borders of the dike, asked them if they were still the conquerors of Lodi, revived their courage by his words, and seizing a flag cried, ‘Follow your general!’ Hearing his voice, a number of soldiers went up to the causeway and followed him; unfortunately, the movement could not be communicated to the whole of the column, the rest of which remained behind the dike. Bonaparte advanced, carrying the flag in his hand, amidst a shower of balls and grape-shot. We all surrounded him. Lannes, who had already received two wounds from musket-shots during the battle, was struck by a third. Muiron, the general’s aid-de-camp, striving to cover him with his body, fell dead at his feet. The column was nevertheless on the point of clearing the bridge, when a last discharge arrested it, and threw it back. The rear abandoned the advance. The soldiers who still remained with the general, then laid hold of him, carried him away amidst the fire and smoke, and insisted on his remounting his horse. An Austrian column debouching upon them, threw them in disorder into the marsh. Bonaparte fell in, and sunk up to the waist. As soon as the soldiers perceived his danger, ‘Forward,’ cried they, ‘to save the general.’ They ran after Belliard and Vignolles to extricate him. They pulled him out of the mud, set him upon his horse again, pressed forward and Arcola was taken.
“Was there ever a more glorious man?” And as the enthusiastic Duroc concluded his animated description of the splendid exploit, his eyes gleamed in admiration of his great friend and patron.
“Yes,” said Guyeux, “Arcola was taken. But I could not get across the river in time to attack Alvinzi’s rear, and thus the Austrian was enabled to deploy into the plain. The general had striven gloriously, but he had not attained his object. In my humble opinion, he might have avoided the obstacle of Arcola by throwing his bridge over the Adige a little below Ronco.
“Aye,” said Massena, “but then he would have debouched into the plain, which it was of great importance to avoid. The general had the best reasons for doing what he did, and although the success was imperfect, important results had been obtained. Alvinzi had quitted the formidable position of Caldiero; he had descended again into the plain, he no longer threatened Verona; and he had lost a great number of men in the marshes. The two dikes had become the only field of battle between the two armies, which gave the superiority to bravery. Besides, so glorious had been the conflict, that our soldiers had completely recovered their confidence, a result of immense importance, as all may perceive.” This defence of Bonaparte’s course did honor to the intelligence of Massena.
“But it must be admitted,” said Bessieres, “that the battle of to-day surpassed all the rest in the display of strategic genius. Yesterday was glorious for us, for the bravery and perseverance of the whole army was exerted in beating the enemy from the dikes, and tumbling them into the marsh, and we destroyed an immense number of them. But to-day proved most conclusively that in strategy our general is at least the rival of the Carthagenian Hannibal. Our general saw that the long conflict had disheartened the enemy, and considerably reduced their superior numbers. He then dared to encounter them on the plain. You, General Massena, marching at the head of your column, with your hat upon the point of your sword, showed them the way to victory, and the Austrians were once more crowded into the marsh. But General Robert was repulsed at the bridge of Ronco. Yet mark the resources of the general-in-chief! Sensible of the danger, he placed the 32d in a wood of willows, which borders the right hand dike. While the enemy’s column, victorious over Robert, was advancing, the 32d sallied from its ambuscade, and, of the three thousand Croates who composed it, the greater part were slain or captured. Crossing the Alpon, Bonaparte brought the whole army into the plain, in front of the Austrians. An ordinary general would now have ordered a simple charge. But the ‘Little Corporal’ determined upon a stratagem. A marsh, overgrown with reeds, covered the left wing of the Austrians. Hercule, chef de battallion, was ordered to take twenty-five guards, to march in single line through the reeds, and to make a sudden charge, with a great blast of trumpets.”
“And Hercule was the very man for such a desperate service,” observed Duroc.
“Precisely,” said Bessieres. “Then the great charge was made by you generals, Massena and Augereau; but the Austrians stood their ground until they heard the great blast of trumpets, when, thinking they were going to be charged by a whole division of cavalry, they fled, and the battle was decided in favor of France. Italy is our own.”
“Not yet,” said Massena. “Austria is stubborn. In spite of her many defeats, she will make at least one more effort to recover possession of this fair land. We have much fighting yet to do, I am sure.”
“We have lost many brave men in these three fighting days,” said young Lemarois. “But the enemy have suffered a loss of at least twelve thousand killed, and six thousand made prisoners, while we have taken eighteen pieces of cannon and four stand of colors.”
“Trophies enough,” said Augereau. “It seems to me, that whether this battle has decided the fate of Italy or not, we shall soon have a short respite from our toils, which will give us time to recruit.”