of battle which he opposed to the French advance admitted of a quick
concentration of his troops which might, by the mere force of numbers,
have crushed the corps of MacMahon and the Guard before the divisions
of Novara could have marched up to their aid. Around Magenta the troops
of Clam-Gallas faced MacMahon to the north, and the high road from San
Martino to the west. There was a strong body of cavalry at Corbetta
close at hand. The divisions of Liechtenstein were at Ponte Vecchio
(the Old Bridge) and Robecco, along the canal below where the road
crosses it. These, which formed the right and centre of the line of the
Austrian army as it was actually engaged in battle, numbered 36,000
men. The left was in the immediate neighbourhood, with Zobel not two
miles to the south and the rest just beyond at Abbiategrosso, 28,000
in all. At Vigevano across the Ticino there were 24,000 more, quite as
near as the central divisions of the French. The remaining 25,000 men
of the Austrian army, like the extreme rear of the allies, were too far
away to be counted on for this day’s work.
As it was, between ignorance and indecision, the battle was to be
fought with about equal forces on either side. It was to be an instance
of an adage often in the mouths of military men--“Victory belongs to
him who makes the fewest blunders.”
[Illustration: “IN THEIR FRENZY HIS ZOUAVES BROKE THROUGH
THE DEFENCES” (_p._ 172).]
Commandant Schmitz galloped off on his long morning ride. He warned the
King to hasten the movement of his troops, which would be needed as
a reserve in case MacMahon should be attacked. Only one of the pontoon
bridges would be left him for the tedious crossing over the Ticino.
Beyond the river he found the division of Camou already on the way to
follow the main column led by MacMahon. It was half-past ten o’clock
before he came up with MacMahon himself, riding at the head of the
division of Lamotterouge.
“The Emperor asks what you reckon on doing if you meet the enemy.”
[Illustration:
Battle of
MAGENTA.
Position of
HOSTILE FORCES.]
“I have no news yet, and there is no attack along the front. On account
of the narrow road I have only the division of Lamotterouge with me. I
have sent Espinasse by a roundabout way at a half-hour’s march from my
left. He is keeping up with me. Camou is behind. Tell the Emperor that
I count on being at Magenta at two o’clock.”
The Commandant rode back, after warning MacMahon that the King had not
yet begun crossing the river with the troops which ought to be his
final reserve for the day. He reached Trecate at noon, just as the
Emperor was alighting from his carriage. All along the way he had heard
the noise of cannon from beyond San Martino. Napoleon received his
report, mounted his horse, and rode off hastily with his escort in the
direction of the firing.
It was the portion of the Guard which was under General Mellinet
that had been violently engaged beyond the bridge at the village of
Buffalora by the canal. Napoleon sent back at once to hurry on the
corps of Niel, which was marching forward along the road from Novara.
The disposition which had been made of the troops rendered this no easy
task, and Mellinet was obliged to hold his own as best he might for
three hours longer.
At half-past four the Emperor, more and more disquieted at hearing
nothing from MacMahon, sent Commandant Schmitz once more by the weary
round of the morning to get news of him. There was no nearer way by
which he might escape the enemy’s fire in crossing the canal. At
six o’clock the Commandant reached the pontoons, which the Italian
regiments had not yet finished crossing. Victor Emanuel asked if it was
Canrobert who was attacked.
“No, sire: it is the whole army. Have you nothing from MacMahon?”
“Yes; a word in pencil, signed by his aide-de-camp; but it is not
pressing.”
Commandant Schmitz could only conjure the King not to lose a moment
of time, and asked for an officer to keep him company in his own
search. As they rode off, the Piedmontese infantry was straggling over
the pontoons. Some of the men were stopping to heat their soup in
the islands of the river, and all, when a new burst of artillery was
heard from the distance, gave vent to their patriotic cry--“_Viva
l’Italia!_”
It was eight o’clock and night was falling when Commandant Schmitz
reached the line of railway from Milan, just beyond Magenta. On the
track before him lay a body covered with a blue cloak and guarded
by a staff-officer in tears. It was General Espinasse, who had been
shot dead as he entered Magenta. At the other end of the town a sharp
fusilade was still going on. In the confusion, it was some time before
MacMahon could be found; and it was half-past eleven at night before
the Commandant arrived with his news at Napoleon’s quarters by the
river. The Emperor was lying, dressed, on the bed in an attic room
of the little inn. He arose, and by the light of a candle dictated
the telegraphic despatch to the Empress Eugénie which set all Paris
rejoicing next day.
“A great battle--a great victory!”
III.--THE FIGHT AT MAGENTA.
From the beginning, the task assigned to the troops of MacMahon was
long, difficult, and dangerous. After crossing both river and canal,
they had to march down toward Magenta in a line trending always to
the right. They would thus be ready to aid in the attack which the
divisions under the command of the Emperor were bound to make on the
enemy’s positions along the canal.
Shortly after Commandant Schmitz left him in the morning, MacMahon
came suddenly on the enemy in front of Buffalora. This small village,
situated on both sides of the canal, was one of the strongest Austrian
positions, and the first serious obstacle which Napoleon would
encounter in his own movement forward from the other side. MacMahon
at once ordered the attack. It was made, with their wonted violence,
by the Turcos and the foot-soldiers of the 49th Regiment of the line.
They were in the thick of the fray when a strong column of the enemy
was discovered moving up to attack the divisions of MacMahon from the
right. So far as he could discern, he would have to face the main body
of the Austrian army. The smoke of battle already clouded the air,
heavy from the damp rice-fields by the river, and it would be no light
task to bring his various divisions into line from their march across
country. The enemy’s advance already threatened to separate him from
the troops led by Espinasse, and from Camou, who was not yet in sight.
Before him, where the combat was actually engaged, disorder had already
begun. The shells, on which the Austrians chiefly relied in this
campaign, were whizzing through the air and leaving clouds of smoke
and dust that added to the difficulty of his movements. One regiment,
which had been ordered to fall back, found itself marching straight on
the enemy; and another, wishing to rush forward to the attack which had
been begun, turned back in the opposite direction.
MacMahon now gave orders that the Turcos and foot-soldiers should give
over the attack on Buffalora and rally to his main column. This was a
work of time. It was necessary to tear the men from a mortal combat
which they were sharing with the Grenadiers of the Guard. These, at the
head of Mellinet’s division, had come up from the other side and were
already taking their position in the village. MacMahon next ordered
Espinasse to move his men steadily to the right until he should be able
to act in concert with the division led by himself. He then suspended
his own movements until he could enter into communication with Camou,
who was approaching but slowly from behind.
In these first movements of the day, General MacMahon has been
reproached for his sudden attack on Buffalora; but this seems to have
been in harmony with the essential plan of the Emperor, who had little
idea of the real strength of the Austrian troops concentrated round
Magenta.
He is next blamed for withdrawing his men from the attack when the
Guard was in most danger; but it was the business of the Emperor to
protect his own line of attack. MacMahon had been made responsible for
the important attack on Magenta itself; and the advance of the enemy on
his right threatened to render this impossible. Besides, the Grenadiers
of Colonel d’Alton-Shee had already secured possession of Buffalora,
which they had now only to defend.
Most of all, MacMahon is criticised for the long pause which now ensued
in his operations, while the enemy was attacking in force close at
hand. This was contrary to the tradition of the French army, praised
by Moltke, that haste should be made where the cannon sounds. It can
only be answered that MacMahon had been positively ordered to match
forward to the church-tower of Magenta; that he was not responsible for
the slowness of Camou which retarded his own movements; and that the
victory which he won when he did move on the enemy shows who it was
made the fewest blunders on that day.
In directing the movements of his thirteen battalions, General Camou,
whose experience of war went back to the First Napoleon, had been
following all the rules. At the sound of the cannonading in front, he
marched straight across the fields toward the church-tower of Magenta,
on which he knew MacMahon was advancing before him. The fields were
separated from each other by dense thorn-hedges, and divided into small
patches of maize. These, in turn, were separated by rows of mulberry
trees bound together by wires, along which grape-vines were trained.
At each moment the Sappers were called on to use their axes, and the
other soldiers their sword-bayonets. This needed no great time; but,
at every open space, the command of the tactician Camou was heard,
stopping all movement in order to straighten properly the line of his
advance.
[Illustration: “HE DICTATED THE TELEGRAPHIC
DESPATCH” (_p._ 171).]
At half-past four o’clock MacMahon himself, with his uniform in
disorder and accompanied only by a few officers of his staff, dashed up
to hurry forward this reserve which was necessary to his own attack. On
the way he had run into a body of Austrian sharpshooters who saluted
him as one of their own commanders, not dreaming of the presence of
the French general. Hastening back to give directions to Espinasse, he
again barely escaped being captured by the Uhlans. Camou had taken six
hours for less than five miles of march.
The drums now beat the charge, and a determined attack was made on the
enemy’s main column. It was taken between two fires, from the division
of Espinasse on one side, and from that of Lamotterouge, led by
MacMahon in person, on the other. Step by step, resisting desperately
to the end, the Austrian troops fell back on Magenta, where their
general and his staff were watching the fortunes of the battle from the
church-tower.
Espinasse, by order of MacMahon, hastened his movement on the town
from the side of the railway, to stop the fire of artillery which
fell obliquely on the troops of Lamotterouge. A company of Tyrolese
sharpshooters had entrenched themselves in one of the first houses.
General Espinasse and his orderly fell dead under their unerring shots.
In their frenzy, his Zouaves broke through the defences of the house
and put to the bayonet each man of the three hundred Tyrolese. The
bloody fight was continued around the railway station and through the
narrow streets of the town. It left everywhere dead bodies clothed with
the hostile uniforms, the red breeches of the French mingling with the
white jackets of the Austrians.
On his side, MacMahon charged again and again, but the resistance
was still obstinate around the church. At last, from the tower,
the Austrian commander caught sight of the four regiments of Camou
advancing in that regular order which became old soldiers of the Guard.
They were impatient to share in the fray, but the Austrian general
abandoned the place before them. Not one of their number had burned a
cartridge or received a scratch. Their coming two hours earlier would
have saved no end of good French blood. The Italian reserve, under King
Victor Emanuel in whose cause the war was waging, did not appear all
this day.
With nightfall, the soldiers of MacMahon--those who had fought and
those who had only marched bravely--bivouacked as best they could
outside the town. The doctors began their all night’s work among the
wounded in the church.
* * * * *
General Trochu had brought his battalions forward at quick step along
the road from Novara. At the bridge over the Ticino he found the
Emperor quite alone, listening intently to the sounds of the battle.
The officers of his escort had been despatched in every direction for
information to relieve his uncertainty. Trochu asked for directions.
Napoleon, white and trembling, could not answer. At last, in a
scarcely intelligible whisper, he said, pointing to the bridge--
“Pass!”
From General Regnauld de Saint-Jean d’Angély, who was in command on
the other side, Trochu learned that the enemy still held out at the
Old Bridge (Ponte Vecchio) over the canal, in spite of Canrobert’s
impetuous onsets. He ordered his men to move forward, rifle on shoulder
and all the drums beating and trumpets sounding. The Austrians,
believing in the arrival of a large body of fresh troops, abandoned
their last positions. At four o’clock in the morning Trochu followed
them to the south with his artillery, and their defeat became a rout.
When Napoleon, on this day (the 5th of June), sent 50,000 men against
what he still supposed to be the main body of the enemy, not an
Austrian was to be found.
After a day for rest, on the 6th, MacMahon, with his corps, was off to
check the advance from the north of General Urban, who was hurrying
back from his chase of Garibaldi. Napoleon stood at the bridge of San
Martino to see the troops pass by. Calling MacMahon to alight from his
horse, he said:
“I thank you for what you have done. I name you Marshal of France and
Duke of Magenta.”
At the request of the generals who could not yet understand how the
battle had been won without them, the dignity of Marshal was also
bestowed on the modest and valiant commander-in-chief of the Imperial
Guard, General Regnauld de Saint-Jean d’Angély. It was the heroic
resistance of General Mellinet and his Grenadiers of the Guard, left
unaided for hours at Buffalora, that allowed to Camou all the time he
required for bringing up his men according to military rules. It also
gave MacMahon the shorter time needed to march forward and to reach the
church-tower of Magenta.
[Illustration: “THE DOCTORS BEGAN THEIR ALL NIGHT’S
WORK” (_p._ 172).]
[Illustration: _The Battle of The Alma_
_By Major Arthur Griffiths_]
It is now more than forty years since we entered upon our last great
European war, when, allied with the French and the Turks, we were
opposed to Russia. The early part of 1854 was spent in complete
inaction at Varna, on the Black Sea. Cholera made terrible havoc in
our camp, and the men were growing disheartened, while everybody at
home was dissatisfied. The great strength of the Russians lay about
Sebastopol, a nearly impregnable fortress on the opposite shore; and
it was at length decided to invade the Crimea and attack Sebastopol.
A magnificent armada was prepared, and the allied armies were carried
across in a vast flotilla of steam and sailing transports, escorted by
a proud array of battle ships. All who saw it, declare that it was one
of the most imposing spectacles in modern war.
A powerful Russian fleet lay in the harbour of Sebastopol, but it made
no attempt at resistance, although it might have done much mischief;
and the allied armies were all safely landed on the 19th September, at
a place called Old Fort, in the Crimea.
The Russians did not oppose us at first. Prince Mentschikoff, who was
in supreme command throughout the Crimea, preferred to wait. Although
he knew all our movements, and might easily have interfered with the
disembarkation, he thought he could do us more mischief when he had us
well on shore. He had chosen a fine position for his army--that, in
fact, on which the battle of the Alma was fought two days later, and
he thought it impregnable. He was a self-sufficient, headstrong man; a
poor soldier, and very presumptuous, as we shall see.
He believed that the allies would soon waste themselves fruitlessly;
that he might easily hold them at bay, perhaps for weeks. Then, when
they were weakened by losses, and disheartened by failure, he meant to
strike back, confidently hoping to drive them into the sea. Not a man,
he declared, should regain the ships.
Pride often goes before a fall, and the result of the first battle was
very different from what Mentschikoff expected. He was wrong all round:
wrong in his estimate of the fighting qualities of the troops opposed
to him, especially of the British; wrong in his belief in the great
strength of his position; altogether wrong in his dispositions for
defence.
It was very extensive, this position: from the sea, its westernmost
limit, to the eastern slopes of the Kourgané Hill was some five and a
half miles; the whole front was covered by the river Alma--a river in
places deep and rapid, at others fordable, and there was a good timber
bridge at Bourliouk, in the centre of the position, which carried the
great causeway or post road from Eupatoria to Sebastopol. The western
cliffs, nearest the sea, were steep, and supposed to be inaccessible;
but the hills fell away as they trended further inland, and the
approach from the river became practicable, although still offering a
rather stiff climb. The ground about the centre and right rose high
at two particular points: one was called the Telegraph Height, and it
dominated the principal road; the other was the famous Kourgané Hill,
an elevated peak around which the battle ebbed and flowed, and which is
now acknowledged to have been the key to the position.
Mentschikoff was but scantily supplied with troops to occupy so long
a line as this. But he was not very greatly concerned about it.
According to his view--and he arrived at the conclusion a little too
readily, as he soon found to his cost--the west cliff, that part of
the position nearest the sea, could defend itself, he felt sure. They
were untenable, too, as he told himself, for the whole surface of this
plateau was within range of the allied fleets, and the fire of their
guns would soon have swept it of the Russian troops. These reasons
sufficed to justify him in holding his chief strength, about 36,000
infantry, between the two hills just mentioned, the Telegraph and
the Kourgané, a front limited to less than three miles. His cavalry,
in which he was especially strong, having about 3,600 sabres in all,
guarded his right flank when the more open down-land was favourable to
their movement. His ninety-six guns were distributed over the whole
ground: some commanded the causeway, some were with the cavalry, some
with the great reserves, some in the two redoubts.
These dispositions showed both carelessness and want of skill. The
Prince had not satisfied himself of the impregnability of the west
cliff. Had he visited and inspected it, he would have found that a good
waggon track ascended the hill from the village of Almatamack, which
could be used, and was, for artillery. Yet he could easily have broken
up this road; just as easily as he could have thrown up formidable
entrenchments to make assurance doubly sure, and forbid absolutely all
attempt to attack on this side. This neglect to fortify all along the
front, although the ground lent itself admirably to such defensive
works, was no less blamable. Whether or not the position was everywhere
naturally strong, it might soon have been made so. If the heights
of the Alma had been converted into a properly and scientifically
entrenched camp, the allies would hardly, perhaps never, have captured
them.
All Mentschikoff did was to construct two works, one named by our men
the “Greater,” the other the “Lesser” Redoubt. The first was nothing
more than a breastwork--breast high, that is to say, without a ditch,
and some three hundred yards above the Alma, just on the lower slopes
of the Kourgané Hill. The Prince was very proud of this fortification,
which had two short sides for flanking fire, and was armed with twelve
heavy guns. More to the right, on the same hill, was another slight
entrenchment facing north-east, and armed with field artillery. This
was the Lesser Redoubt.
The allied forces marching on Sebastopol, arrived in front of this
position on the 20th September, 1854. It was a momentous occasion. For
the first time in modern history the French and English, two hereditary
foes, were about to fight side by side. A newer and a better rivalry
had effaced old feuds. The fierce contests in Spain and at Waterloo
were forgotten, although the English commander and many of his generals
had won their laurels against the French. Now the two old enemies were
the fastest of friends. Lord Raglan, who, as Fitzroy Somerset, had
lost his arm at Waterloo, was revered by all ranks in the French army;
and when Marshal St. Arnaud, the French commander-in-chief, passed
along the British line, he was received with loud cheers, to which he
replied, lifting his hat, and speaking in good English, “Hurrah for old
England!”
[Illustration: PRINCE MENTSCHIKOFF.]
Emulation in great deeds is a fine thing, but when allies fight side
by side there is always the fear of divided counsels, the chance of
divided action in the field. The English and French generals did not
exactly disagree, but each went very much his own way. St. Arnaud
wished to take the front attack from the sea to beyond the causeway,
leaving Lord Raglan to turn the Russian right. This the English general
did not choose to do: he thought a flanking movement would be dangerous
in the presence of a superior cavalry, over ground especially suited to
it--like a racecourse, in fact, open, and covered with smooth, springy
turf. It ended in an agreement that each army should go up against what
was before it, the French attacking the west cliff, from the causeway
to the sea, the English taking the hills from the causeway to the
extreme right.
The result of this was that the French found no enemy, and the brunt
of the battle fell upon us. The honour was all the greater, of course.
But this arrangement neutralised all our advantages of superior
numbers. French and English together numbered some 63,000, as against
30,000 Russians. As, however, Mentschikoff held the bulk of his forces
about his centre and right--in other words, just opposite the English
attack--it followed that Russians and English would fight upon pretty
equal terms. This was all the more emphasised by the French moving so
much to their right that a large portion of their army was quite out of
the action, while the rest was only partially engaged.
The allied troops were astir at daylight on the 20th September, but
the battle was not really fought till the afternoon. Delays that were
vexatious yet inevitable interposed. Lord Raglan was obliged to draw
towards him two of his divisions, with which he had been covering his
exposed left flank, and at the same time he gave a safer direction for
his baggage train. The slow transfer of the latter from the left to his
own immediate rear occupied the whole forenoon, and the French, who had
no such troubles, chafed greatly at the delay.
But at length Bosquet began the ball at 2 p.m. He led off with his,
the extreme right or seaward French division, and went up against the
west cliff. One brigade, Bonat’s, followed by the Turks, crossed the
river Alma at its mouth, and scaling the heights without difficulty,
advanced--to do no more. His 15,000 men met no enemy, and were put
out of action for the rest of the day. Bosquet’s other brigade,
D’Autemare’s, with which he rode in person, faced the stiff slope and
surmounted it. Both men and guns got up, and were ready to go in and
win; but, like Bonat, they found nothing in front of them. Bosquet’s
successful climb had only placed him alone in an isolated and really
unsafe position. He was quite unsupported. Bonat was detached far
away on his right; Canrobert, his nearest neighbour, had got mixed up
among the rocky, broken country above him, and could barely hold his
own, much less extend his hand. Next to Canrobert was Prince Napoleon;
but the latter hung back unaccountably--unless the stories afterwards
published discrediting his courage are deemed true.