THE FIGHTS FOR MANTUA
The circumstances which recalled Bonaparte to the banks of the Mincio
were indeed serious. The Emperor Francis was determined at all costs
to retain his hold on Italy by raising the siege of that fortress; and
unless the French commander could speedily compass its fall, he had
the prospect of fighting a greatly superior army while his rear was
threatened by the garrison of Mantua. Austria was making unparalleled
efforts to drive this presumptuous young general from a land which she
regarded as her own political preserve. Military historians have
always been puzzled to account for her persistent efforts in 1796-7 to
re-conquer Lombardy. But, in truth, the reasons are diplomatic, not
military, and need not be detailed here. Suffice it to say that,
though the Hapsburg lands in Swabia were threatened by Moreau's Army
of the Rhine, Francis determined at all costs to recover his Italian
possessions.
To this end the Emperor now replaced the luckless Beaulieu by General
Würmser, who had gained some reputation in the Rhenish campaigns; and,
detaching 25,000 men from his northern armies to strengthen his army
on the Adige, he bade him carry the double-headed eagle of Austria
victoriously into the plains of Italy. Though too late to relieve the
citadel of Milan, he was to strain every nerve to relieve Mantua; and,
since the latest reports represented the French as widely dispersed
for the plunder of Central Italy, the Emperor indulged the highest
hopes of Würmser's success.[56]
Possibly this might have been attained had the Austrian Emperor and
staff understood the absolute need of concentration in attacking a
commander who had already demonstrated its supreme importance in
warfare. Yet the difficulties of marching an army of 47,000 men
through the narrow defile carved by the Adige through the Tyrolese
Alps, and the wide extent of the French covering lines, led to the
adoption of a plan which favoured rapidity at the expense of security.
Würmser was to divide his forces for the difficult march southward
from Tyrol into Italy. In defence of this arrangement much could be
urged. To have cumbered the two roads, which run on either side of the
Adige from Trient towards Mantua, with infantry, cavalry, artillery,
and the countless camp-followers, animals, and wagons that follow an
army, would have been fatal alike to speed of marching and to success
in mountain warfare. Even in the campaign of 1866 the greatest
commander of this generation carried out his maxim, "March in separate
columns: unite for fighting." But Würmser and the Aulic Council[57] at
Vienna neglected to insure that reunion for attack, on which von
Moltke laid such stress in his Bohemian campaign. The Austrian forces
in 1796 were divided by obstacles which could not quickly be crossed,
namely, by Lake Garda and the lofty mountains which tower above the
valley of the Adige. Assuredly the Imperialists were not nearly strong
enough to run any risks. The official Austrian returns show that the
total force assembled in Tyrol for the invasion of Italy amounted to
46,937 men, not to the 60,000 as pictured by the imagination of Thiers
and other French historians. As Bonaparte had in Lombardy-Venetia
fully 45,000 men (including 10,000 now engaged in the siege of
Mantua), scattered along a front of fifty miles from Milan to Brescia
and Legnago, the incursion of Würmser's force, if the French were held
to their separate positions by diversions against their flanks, must
have proved decisive. But the fault was committed of so far dividing
the Austrians that nowhere could they deal a crushing blow.
Quosdanovich with 17,600 men was to take the western side of Lake
Garda, seize the French magazines at Brescia, and cut their
communications with Milan and France: the main body under Würmser,
24,300 strong, was meanwhile to march in two columns on either bank of
the Adige, drive the French from Rivoli and push on towards Mantua:
and yet a third division, led by Davidovich from the district of
Friuli on the east, received orders to march on Vicenza and Legnago,
in order to distract the French from that side, and possibly relieve
Mantua if the other two onsets failed.
Faulty as these dispositions were, they yet seriously disconcerted
Bonaparte. He was at Montechiaro, a village situated on the road
between Brescia and Mantua, when, on July 29th, he heard that the
white-coats had driven in Masséna's vanguard above Rivoli on the
Adige, were menacing other positions near Verona and Legnago, and were
advancing on Brescia. As soon as the full extent of the peril was
manifest, he sent off ten despatches to his generals, ordering a
concentration of troops--these, of course, fighting so as to delay the
pursuit--towards the southern end of Lake Garda. This wise step
probably saved his isolated forces from disaster. It was at that point
that the Austrians proposed to unite their two chief columns and crush
the French detachments. But, by drawing in the divisions of Masséna
and Augereau towards the Mincio, Bonaparte speedily assembled a
formidable array, and held the central position between the eastern
and western divisions of the Imperialists. He gave up the important
defensive line of the Adige, it is true; but by promptly rallying on
the Mincio, he occupied a base that was defended on the north by the
small fortress of Peschiera and the waters of Lake Garda. Holding the
bridges over the Mincio, he could strike at his assailants wherever
they should attack; above all, he still covered the siege of Mantua.
Such were his dispositions on July 29th and 30th. On the latter day he
heard of the loss of Brescia, and the consequent cutting of his
communications with Milan. Thereupon he promptly ordered Sérurier, who
was besieging Mantua, to make a last vigorous effort to take that
fortress, but also to assure his retreat westwards if fortune failed
him. Later in the day he ordered him forthwith to send away his
siege-train, throwing into the lake or burying whatever he could not
save from the advancing Imperialists.
This apparently desperate step, which seemed to forebode the
abandonment not only of the siege of Mantua, but of the whole of
Lombardy, was in reality a masterstroke. Bonaparte had perceived the
truth, which the campaigns of 1813 and 1870 were abundantly to
illustrate--that the possession of fortresses, and consequently their
siege by an invader, is of secondary importance when compared with a
decisive victory gained in the open. When menaced by superior forces
advancing towards the south of Lake Garda, he saw that he must
sacrifice his siege works, even his siege-train, in order to gain for
a few precious days that superiority in the field which the division
of the Imperialist columns still left to him.
The dates of these occurrences deserve close scrutiny; for they
suffice to refute some of the exorbitant claims made at a later time
by General Augereau, that only his immovable firmness forced Bonaparte
to fight and to change his dispositions of retreat into an attack
which re-established everything. This extraordinary assertion,
published by Augereau after he had deserted Napoleon in 1814, is
accompanied by a detailed recital of the events of July 30th-August
5th, in which Bonaparte appears as the dazed and discouraged
commander, surrounded by pusillanimous generals, and urged on to fight
solely by the confidence of Augereau. That the forceful energy of this
general had a great influence in restoring the _morale_ of the French
army in the confused and desperate movements which followed may freely
be granted. But his claims to have been the main spring of the French
movements in those anxious days deserve a brief examination. He
asserts that Bonaparte, "devoured by anxieties," met him at Roverbella
late in the evening of July 30th, and spoke of retiring beyond the
River Po. The official correspondence disproves this assertion.
Bonaparte had already given orders to Sérurier to retire beyond the Po
with his artillery train; but this was obviously an attempt to save it
from the advancing Austrians; and the commander had ordered the
northern part of the French besieging force to join Augereau between
Roverbella and Goito. Augereau further asserts that, after he had
roused Bonaparte to the need of a dash to recover Brescia, the
commander-in-chief remarked to Berthier, "In that case we must raise
the siege of Mantua," which again he (Augereau) vigorously opposed.
This second statement is creditable neither to Augereau's accuracy nor
to his sagacity. The order for the raising of the siege had been
issued, and it was entirely necessary for the concentration of French
troops, on which Bonaparte now relied as his only hope against
superior force. Had Bonaparte listened to Augereau's advice and
persisted still in besieging Mantua, the scattered French forces must
have been crushed in detail. Augereau's words are those of a mere
fighter, not of a strategist; and the timidity which he ungenerously
attributed to Bonaparte was nothing but the caution which a superior
intellect saw to be a necessary prelude to a victorious move.
That the fighting honours of the ensuing days rightly belong to
Augereau may be frankly conceded. With forces augmented by the
northern part of the besiegers of Mantua, he moved rapidly westwards
from the Mincio against Brescia, and rescued it from the vanguard of
Quosdanovich (August 1st). On the previous day other Austrian
detachments had also, after obstinate conflicts, been worsted near
Salo and Lonato. Still, the position was one of great perplexity: for
though Masséna's division from the Adige was now beginning to come
into touch with Bonaparte's chief force, yet the fronts of Würmser's
columns were menacing the French from that side, while the troops of
Quosdanovich, hovering about Lonato and Salo, struggled desperately to
stretch a guiding hand to their comrades on the Mincio.
Würmser was now discovering his error. Lured towards Mantua by false
reports that the French were still covering the siege, he had marched
due south when he ought to have rushed to the rescue of his
hard-pressed lieutenant at Brescia. Entering Mantua, he enjoyed a
brief spell of triumph, and sent to the Emperor Francis the news of
the capture of 40 French cannon in the trenches, and of 139 more on
the banks of the Po. But, while he was indulging the fond hope that
the French were in full retreat from Italy, came the startling news
that they had checked Quosdanovich at Brescia and Salo. Realizing his
errors, and determining to retrieve them before all was lost, he at
once pushed on his vanguard towards Castiglione, and easily gained
that village and its castle from a French detachment commanded by
General Valette.
The feeble defence of so important a position threw Bonaparte into one
of those transports of fury which occasionally dethroned his better
judgment. Meeting Valette at Montechiaro, he promptly degraded him to
the ranks, refusing to listen to his plea of having received a written
order to retire. A report of General Landrieux asserts that the rage
of the commander-in-chief was so extreme as for the time even to
impair his determination. The outlook was gloomy. The French seemed
about to be hemmed in amidst the broken country between Castiglione,
Brescia, and Salo. A sudden attack on the Austrians was obviously the
only safe and honourable course. But no one knew precisely their
numbers or their position. Uncertainty ever preyed on Bonaparte's
ardent imagination. His was a mind that quailed not before visible
dangers; but, with all its powers of decisive action, it retained so
much of Corsican eeriness as to chafe at the unknown,[58] and to lose
for the moment the faculty of forming a vigorous resolution. Like the
python, which grips its native rock by the tail in order to gain its
full constricting power, so Bonaparte ever needed a groundwork of fact
for the due exercise of his mental force.
One of a group of generals, whom he had assembled about him near
Montechiaro, proposed that they should ascend the hill which dominated
the plain. Even from its ridge no Austrians were to be seen. Again the
commander burst forth with petulant reproaches, and even talked of
retiring to the Adda. Whereupon, if we may trust the "Memoirs" of
General Landrieux, Augereau protested against retreat, and promised
success for a vigorous charge. "I wash my hands of it, and I am going
away," replied Bonaparte. "And who will command, if you go?" inquired
Augereau. "You," retorted Bonaparte, as he left the astonished circle.
However this may be, the first attack on Castiglione was certainly
left to this determined fighter; and the mingling of boldness and
guile which he showed on the following day regained for the French not
only the village, but also the castle, perched on a precipitous rock.
Yet the report of Colonel Graham, who was then at Marshal Würmser's
headquarters, somewhat dulls the lustre of Augereau's exploit; for the
British officer asserts that the Austrian position had been taken up
quite by haphazard, and that fewer than 15,000 white-coats were
engaged in this first battle of Castiglione. Furthermore, the
narratives of this _mêlée_ written by Augereau himself and by two
other generals, Landrieux and Verdier, who were disaffected towards
Bonaparte, must naturally be received with much reserve. The effect of
Augereau's indomitable energy in restoring confidence to the soldiers
and victory to the French tricolour was, however, generously admitted
by the Emperor Napoleon; for, at a later time when complaints were
being made about Augereau, he generously exclaimed: "Ah, let us not
forget that he saved us at Castiglione."[59]
While Augereau was recovering this important position, confused
conflicts were raging a few miles further north at Lonato. Masséna at
first was driven back by the onset of the Imperialists; but while they
were endeavouring to envelop the French, Bonaparte arrived, and in
conjunction with Masséna pushed on a central attack such as often
wrested victory from the enemy. The white-coats retired in disorder,
some towards Gavardo, others towards the lake, hotly followed by the
French. In the pursuit towards Gavardo, Bonaparte's old friend,
Junot, distinguished himself by his dashing valour. He wounded a
colonel, slew six troopers, and, covered with wounds, was finally
overthrown into a ditch. Such is Bonaparte's own account. It is
gratifying to know that the wounds neither singly nor collectively
were dangerous, and did not long repress Junot's activity. A tinge of
romance seems, indeed, to have gilded many of these narratives; and a
critical examination of the whole story of Lonato seems to suggest
doubts whether the victory was as decisive as historians have often
represented. If the Austrians were "thrown back on Lake Garda and
Desenzano,"[60] it is difficult to see why the pursuers did not drive
them into the lake. As a matter of fact, nearly all the beaten troops
escaped to Gavardo, while others joined their comrades engaged in the
blockade of Peschiera.
A strange incident serves to illustrate the hazards of war and the
confusion of this part of the campaign. A detachment of the vanquished
Austrian forces some 4,000 strong, unable to join their comrades at
Gavardo or Peschiera, and yet unharmed by the victorious pursuers,
wandered about on the hills, and on the next day chanced near Lonato
to come upon a much smaller detachment of French. Though unaware of
the full extent of their good fortune, the Imperialists boldly sent an
envoy to summon the French commanding officer to surrender. When the
bandage was taken from his eyes, he was abashed to find himself in the
presence of Bonaparte, surrounded by the generals of his staff. The
young commander's eyes flashed fire at the seeming insult, and in
tones vibrating with well-simulated passion he threatened the envoy
with condign punishment for daring to give such a message to the
commander-in-chief at his headquarters in the midst of his army. Let
him and his men forthwith lay down their arms. Dazed by the demand,
and seeing only the victorious chief and not the smallness of his
detachment, 4,000 Austrians surrendered to 1,200 French, or rather to
the address and audacity of one master-mind.
Elated by this augury of further victory, the republicans prepared for
the decisive blow. Würmser, though checked on August 3rd, had been so
far reinforced from Mantua as still to indulge hopes of driving the
French from Castiglione and cutting his way through to rescue
Quosdanovich. He was, indeed, in honour bound to make the attempt; for
the engagement had been made, with the usual futility that dogged the
Austrian councils, to reunite their forces and _fight the French on
the 7th of August_. These cast-iron plans were now adhered to in spite
of their dislocation at the hands of Bonaparte and Augereau. Würmser's
line stretched from near the village of Médole in a north-easterly
direction across the high-road between Brescia and Mantua; while his
right wing was posted in the hilly country around Solferino. In fact,
his extreme right rested on the tower-crowned heights of Solferino,
where the forces of Austria two generations later maintained so
desperate a defence against the onset of Napoleon III. and his
liberating army.
Owing to the non-arrival of Mezaros' corps marching from Legnago,
Würmser mustered scarcely twenty-five thousand men on his long line;
while the very opportune approach of part of Sérurier's division,
under the lead of Fiorella, from the south, gave the French an
advantage even in numbers. Moreover, Fiorella's advance on the south
of Würmser's weaker flank, that near Médole, threatened to turn it and
endanger the Austrian communications with Mantua. The Imperialists
seem to have been unaware of this danger; and their bad scouting here
as elsewhere was largely responsible for the issue of the day.
Würmser's desire to stretch a helping hand to Quosdanovich near Lonato
and his confidence in the strength of his own right wing betrayed him
into a fatal imprudence. Sending out feelers after his hard-pressed
colleague on the north, he dangerously prolonged his line, an error in
which he was deftly encouraged by Bonaparte, who held back his own
left wing. Meanwhile the French were rolling in the other extremity of
the Austrian line. Marmont, dashing forward with the horse artillery,
took the enemy's left wing in flank and silenced many of their pieces.
Under cover of this attack, Fiorella's division was able to creep up
within striking distance; and the French cavalry, swooping round the
rear of this hard-pressed wing, nearly captured Würmser and his staff.
A vigorous counterattack by the Austrian reserves, or an immediate
wheeling round of the whole line, was needed to repulse this brilliant
flank attack; but the Austrian reserves had been expended in the north
of their line; and an attempt to change front, always a difficult
operation, was crushed by a headlong charge of Masséna's and
Augereau's divisions on their centre. Before these attacks the whole
Austrian line gave way; and, according to Colonel Graham, nothing but
this retreat, undertaken "without orders," saved the whole force from
being cut off. The criticisms of our officer sufficiently reveal the
cause of the disaster. The softness and incapacity of Würmser, the
absence of a responsible second in command, the ignorance of the
number and positions of the French, the determination to advance
towards Castiglione and to wait thereabouts for Quosdanovich until a
battle could be fought with combined forces on the 7th, the taking up
a position almost by haphazard on the Castiglione-Médole line, and the
failure to detect Fiorella's approach, present a series of defects and
blunders which might have given away the victory to a third-rate
opponent.[61]
The battle was by no means sanguinary: it was a series of manoeuvres
rather than of prolonged conflicts. Hence its interest to all who by
preference dwell on the intellectual problems of warfare rather than
on the details of fighting. Bonaparte had previously shown that he
could deal blows with telling effect. The ease and grace of his moves
at the second battle of Castiglione now redeemed the reputation which
his uncertain behaviour on the four preceding days had somewhat
compromised.
A complete and authentic account of this week of confused fighting has
never been written. The archives of Vienna have not as yet yielded up
all their secrets; and the reputations of so many French officers were
over-clouded by this prolonged _mêlée_ as to render even the victors'
accounts vague and inconsistent. The aim of historians everywhere to
give a clear and vivid account, and the desire of Napoleonic
enthusiasts to represent their hero as always thinking clearly and
acting decisively, have fused trusty ores and worthless slag into an
alloy which has passed for true metal. But no student of Napoleon's
"Correspondence," of the "Memoirs" of Marmont, and of the recitals of
Augereau, Dumas, Landrieux, Verdier, Despinois and others, can hope
wholly to unravel the complications arising from the almost continuous
conflicts that extended over a dozen leagues of hilly country. War is
not always dramatic, however much the readers of campaigns may yearn
after thrilling narratives. In regard to this third act of the Italian
campaign, all that can safely be said is that Bonaparte's intuition to
raise the siege of Mantua, in order that he might defeat in detail the
relieving armies, bears the imprint of genius: but the execution of
this difficult movement was unequal, even at times halting; and the
French army was rescued from its difficulties only by the grand
fighting qualities of the rank and file, and by the Austrian blunders,
which outnumbered those of the republican generals.
Neither were the results of the Castiglione cycle of battles quite so
brilliant as have been represented. Würmser and Quasdanovich lost in
all 17,000 men, it is true: but the former had re-garrisoned and
re-victualled Mantua, besides capturing all the French siege-train.
Bonaparte's primary aim had been to reduce Mantua, so that he might be
free to sweep through Tyrol, join hands with Moreau, and overpower the
white-coats in Bavaria. The aim of the Aulic Council and Würmser had
been to relieve Mantua and restore the Hapsburg rule over Lombardy.
Neither side had succeeded. But the Austrians could at least point to
some successes; and, above all, Mantua was in a better state of
defence than when the French first approached its walls: and while
Mantua was intact, Bonaparte was held to the valley of the Mincio, and
could not deal those lightning blows on the Inn and the Danube which
he ever regarded as the climax of the campaign. Viewed on its material
side, his position was no better than it was before Würmser's
incursion into the plains of Venetia.[62]
With true Hapsburg tenacity, Francis determined on further efforts for
the relief of Mantua. Apart from the promptings of dynastic pride, his
reasons for thus obstinately struggling against Alpine gorges, Italian
sentiment, and Bonaparte's genius, are wellnigh inscrutable; and
military writers have generally condemned this waste of resources on
the Brenta, which, if hurled against the French on the Rhine, would
have compelled the withdrawal of Bonaparte from Italy for the defence
of Lorraine. But the pride of the Emperor Francis brooked no surrender
of his Italian possessions, and again Würmser was spurred on from
Vienna to another invasion of Venetia. It would be tedious to give an
account of Würmser's second attempt, which belongs rather to the
domain of political fatuity than that of military history. Colonel
Graham states that the Austrian rank and file laughed at their
generals, and bitterly complained that they were being led to the
shambles, while the officers almost openly exclaimed: "We must make
peace, for we don't know how to make war." This was again apparent.
Bonaparte forestalled their attack. Their divided forces fell an easy
prey to Masséna, who at Bassano cut Würmser's force to pieces and sent
the _débris_ flying down the valley of the Brenta. Losing most of
their artillery, and separated in two chief bands, the Imperialists
seemed doomed to surrender: but Würmser, doubling on his pursuers,
made a dash westwards, finally cutting his way to Mantua. There again
he vainly endeavoured to make a stand. He was driven from his
positions in front of St. Georges and La Favorita, and was shut up in
the town itself. This addition to the numbers of the garrison was no
increase to its strength; for the fortress, though well provisioned
for an ordinary garrison, could not support a prolonged blockade, and
the fevers of the early autumn soon began to decimate troops worn out
by forced marches and unable to endure the miasma ascending from the
marshes of the Mincio.
The French also were wearied by their exertions in the fierce heats of
September. Murmurs were heard in the ranks and at the mess tables that
Bonaparte's reports of these exploits were tinged by favouritism
and by undue severity against those whose fortune had been less
conspicuous than their merits. One of these misunderstandings was of
some importance. Masséna, whose services had been brilliant at Bassano
but less felicitous since the crossing of the Adige, reproached
Bonaparte for denying praise to the most deserving and lavishing it on
men who had come in opportunely to reap the labours of others. His
written protest, urged with the old republican frankness, only served
further to cloud over the relations between them, which, since Lonato,
had not been cordial.[63] Even thus early in his career Bonaparte
gained the reputation of desiring brilliant and entire success, and of
visiting with his displeasure men who, from whatever cause, did not
wrest from Fortune her utmost favours. That was his own mental
attitude towards the fickle goddess. After entering Milan he cynically
remarked to Marmont: "Fortune is a woman; and the more she does for
me, the more I will require of her." Suggestive words, which explain
at once the splendour of his rise and the rapidity of his fall.
During the few weeks of comparative inaction which ensued, the affairs
of Italy claimed his attention. The prospect of an Austrian
re-conquest had caused no less concern to the friends of liberty in
the peninsula than joy to the reactionary coteries of the old
sovereigns. At Rome and Naples threats against the French were
whispered or openly vaunted. The signature of the treaties of peace
was delayed, and the fulminations of the Vatican were prepared against
the sacrilegious spoilers. After the Austrian war-cloud had melted
away, the time had come to punish prophets of evil. The Duke of Modena
was charged with allowing a convoy to pass from his State to the
garrison of Mantua, and with neglecting to pay the utterly impossible
fine to which Bonaparte had condemned him. The men of Reggio and
Modena were also encouraged to throw off his yoke and to confide in
the French. Those of Reggio succeeded; but in the city of Modena
itself the ducal troops repressed the rising. Bonaparte accordingly
asked the advice of the Directory; but his resolution was already
formed. Two days after seeking their counsel, he took the decisive
step of declaring Modena and Reggio to be under the protection of
France. This act formed an exceedingly important departure in the
history of France as well as in that of Italy. Hitherto the Directory
had succeeded in keeping Bonaparte from active intervention in affairs
of high policy. In particular, it had enjoined on him the greatest
prudence with regard to the liberated lands of Italy, so as not to
involve France in prolonged intervention in the peninsula, or commit
her to a war _à outrance_ with the Hapsburgs; and its warnings were
now urged with all the greater emphasis because news had recently
reached Paris of a serious disaster to the French arms in Germany. But
while the Directors counselled prudence, Bonaparte forced their hand
by declaring the Duchy of Modena to be under the protection of France;
and when their discreet missive reached him, he expressed to them his
regret that it had come too late. By that time (October 24th) he had
virtually founded a new State, for whose security French honour was
deeply pledged. This implied the continuance of the French occupation
of Northern Italy and therefore a prolongation of Bonaparte's command.
It was not the Duchy of Modena alone which felt the invigorating
influence of democracy and nationality. The Papal cities of Bologna
and Ferrara had broken away from the Papal sway, and now sent deputies
to meet the champions of liberty at Modena and found a free
commonwealth. There amidst great enthusiasm was held the first truly
representative Italian assembly that had met for many generations; and
a levy of 2,800 volunteers, styled the Italian legion, was decreed.
Bonaparte visited these towns, stimulated their energy, and bade the
turbulent beware of his vengeance, which would be like that of "the
exterminating angel." In a brief space these districts were formed
into the Cispadane Republic, destined soon to be merged into a yet
larger creation. A new life breathed from Modena and Bologna into
Central Italy. The young republic forthwith abolished all feudal laws,
decreed civic equality, and ordered the convocation at Bologna of a
popularly elected Assembly for the Christmas following. These events
mark the first stage in the beginning of that grand movement, _Il
Risorgimento,_ which after long delays was finally consummated in
1870.
This period of Bonaparte's career may well be lingered over by those
who value his invigorating influence on Italian life more highly than
his military triumphs. At this epoch he was still the champion of the
best principles of the Revolution; he had overthrown Austrian
domination in the peninsula, and had shaken to their base domestic
tyrannies worse than that of the Hapsburgs. His triumphs were as yet
untarnished. If we except the plundering of the liberated and
conquered lands, an act for which the Directory was primarily
responsible, nothing was at this time lacking to the full orb of his
glory. An envoy bore him the welcome news that the English, wearied by
the intractable Corsicans, had evacuated the island of his birth; and
he forthwith arranged for the return of many of the exiles who had
been faithful to the French Republic. Among these was Salicetti, who
now returned for a time to his old insular sphere; while his former
_protégé_ was winning a world-wide fame. Then, turning to the affairs
of Central Italy, the young commander showed his diplomatic talents to
be not a whit inferior to his genius for war. One instance of this
must here suffice. He besought the Pope, who had broken off the
lingering negotiations with France, not to bring on his people the
horrors of war.[64] The beauty of this appeal, as also of a somewhat
earlier appeal to the Emperor Francis at Vienna, is, however,
considerably marred by other items which now stand revealed in
Bonaparte's instructive correspondence. After hearing of the French
defeats in Germany, he knew that the Directors could spare him very
few of the 25,000 troops whom he demanded as reinforcements.
He was also aware that the Pope, incensed at his recent losses in
money and lands, was seeking to revivify the First Coalition. The
pacific precepts addressed by the young Corsican to the Papacy must
therefore be viewed in the light of merely mundane events and of his
secret advice to the French agent at Rome: "The great thing is to gain
time.... Finally, the game really is for us to throw the ball from one
to the other, so as to deceive this old fox."[65]
From these diplomatic amenities the general was forced to turn to the
hazards of war. Gauging Bonaparte's missive at its true worth, the
Emperor determined to re-conquer Italy, an enterprise that seemed well
within his powers. In the month of October victory had crowned the
efforts of his troops in Germany. At Würzburg the Archduke Charles had
completely beaten Jourdan, and had thrown both his army and that of
Moreau back on the Rhine. Animated by reviving hopes, the Imperialists
now assembled some 60,000 strong. Alvintzy, a veteran of sixty years,
renowned for his bravery, but possessing little strategic ability, was
in command of some 35,000 men in the district of Friuli, north of
Trieste, covering that seaport from a threatened French attack. With
this large force he was to advance due west, towards the River Brenta,
while Davidovich, marching through Tyrol by the valley of the Adige,
was to meet him with the remainder near Verona. As Jomini has
observed, the Austrians gave themselves infinite trouble and
encountered grave risks in order to compass a junction of forces
which they might quietly have effected at the outset. Despite all
Bonaparte's lessons, the Aulic Council still clung to its old plan of
enveloping the foe and seeking to bewilder them by attacks delivered
from different sides. Possibly also they were emboldened by the
comparative smallness of Bonaparte's numbers to repeat this hazardous
manoeuvre.
The French could muster little more than 40,000 men; and of these at
least 8,000 were needed opposite Mantua.
At first the Imperialists gained important successes; for though the
French held their own on the Brenta, yet their forces in the Tyrol
were driven down the valley of the Adige with losses so considerable
that Bonaparte was constrained to order a general retreat on Verona.
He discerned that from this central position he could hold in check
Alvintzy's troops marching westwards from Vicenza and prevent their
junction with the Imperialists under Davidovich, who were striving to
thrust Vaubois' division from the plateau of Rivoli.
But before offering battle to Alvintzy outside Verona, Bonaparte paid
a flying visit to his men posted on that plateau in order to rebuke
the wavering and animate the whole body with his own dauntless spirit.
Forming the troops around him, he addressed two regiments in tones of
grief and anger. He reproached them for abandoning strong positions in
a panic, and ordered his chief staff officer to inscribe on their
colours the ominous words: "They are no longer of the Army of
Italy."[66] Stung by this reproach, the men begged with sobs that the
general would test their valour before disgracing them for ever. The
young commander, who must have counted on such a result to his words,
when uttered to French soldiers, thereupon promised to listen to their
appeals; and their bravery in the ensuing fights wiped every stain of
disgrace from their colours. By such acts as these did he nerve his
men against superior numbers and adverse fortune.
Their fortitude was to be severely tried at all points. Alvintzy
occupied a strong position on a line of hills at Caldiero, a few miles
to the east of Verona. His right wing was protected by the spurs of
the Tyrolese Alps, while his left was flanked by the marshes which
stretch between the rivers Alpon and Adige; and he protected his front
by cannon skilfully ranged along the hills. All the bravery of
Masséna's troops failed to dislodge the right wing of the
Imperialists. The French centre was torn by the Austrian cannon and
musketry. A pitiless storm of rain and sleet hindered the advance of
the French guns and unsteadied the aim of the gunners; and finally
they withdrew into Verona, leaving behind 2,000 killed and wounded,
and 750 prisoners (November 12th). This defeat at Caldiero--for it is
idle to speak of it merely as a check--opened up a gloomy vista of
disasters for the French; and Bonaparte, though he disguised his fears
before his staff and the soldiery, forthwith wrote to the Directors
that the army felt itself abandoned at the further end of Italy, and
that this fair conquest seemed about to be lost. With his usual device
of under-rating his own forces and exaggerating those of his foes, he
stated that the French both at Verona and Rivoli were only 18,000,
while the grand total of the Imperialists was upwards of 50,000. But
he must have known that for the present he had to deal with rather
less than half that number. The greater part of the Tyrolese force
had not as yet descended the Adige below Roveredo; and allowing for
detachments and losses, Alvintzy's array at Caldiero barely exceeded
20,000 effectives.
Bonaparte now determined to hazard one of the most daring turning
movements which history records. It was necessary at all costs to
drive Alvintzy from the heights of Caldiero before the Tyrolese
columns should overpower Vaubois' detachment at Rivoli and debouch in
the plains west of Verona. But, as Caldiero could not be taken by a
front attack, it must be turned by a flanking movement. To any other
general than Bonaparte this would have appeared hopeless; but where
others saw nothing but difficulties, his eye discerned a means of
safety. South and south-east of those hills lies a vast depression
swamped by the flood waters of the Alpon and the Adige. Morasses
stretch for some miles west of the village of Arcola, through which
runs a road up the eastern bank of the Alpon, crossing that stream at
the aforenamed village and leading to the banks of the Adige opposite
the village of Ronco; another causeway, diverging from the former a
little to the north of Ronco, leads in a north-westerly direction
towards Porcil. By advancing from Ronco along these causeways, and by
seizing Arcola, Bonaparte designed to outflank the Austrians and tempt
them into an arena where the personal prowess of the French veterans
would have ample scope, and where numbers would be of secondary
importance. Only heads of columns could come into direct contact; and
the formidable Austrian cavalry could not display its usual prowess.
On these facts Bonaparte counted as a set-off to his slight
inferiority in numbers.
In the dead of night the divisions of Augereau and Masséna retired
through Verona. Officers and soldiers were alike deeply discouraged by
this movement, which seemed to presage a retreat towards the Mincio
and the abandonment of Lombardy. To their surprise, when outside the
gate they received the order to turn to the left down the western bank
of the Adige. At Ronco the mystery was solved. A bridge of boats had
there been thrown across the Adige; and, crossing this without
opposition, Augereau's troops rapidly advanced along the causeway
leading to Arcola and menaced the Austrian rear, while Masséna's
column denied north-west, so as directly to threaten his flank at
Caldiero. The surprise, however, was by no means complete; for
Alvintzy himself purposed to cross the Adige at Zevio, so as to make a
dash on Mantua, and in order to protect his flank he had sent a
detachment of Croats to hold Arcola. These now stoutly disputed
Augereau's progress, pouring in from the loopholed cottages volleys
which tore away the front of every column of attack. In vain did
Augereau, seizing the colours, lead his foremost regiment to the
bridge of Arcola. Riddled by the musketry, his men fell back in
disorder. In vain did Bonaparte himself, dismounting from his charger,
seize a flag, rally these veterans and lead them towards the bridge.
The Croats, constantly reinforced, poured in so deadly a fire as to
check the advance: Muiron, Marmont, and a handful of gallant men still
pressed on, thereby screening the body of their chief; but Muiron fell
dead, and another officer, seizing Bonaparte, sought to drag him back
from certain death. The column wavered under the bullets, fell back to
the further side of the causeway, and in the confusion the commander
fell into the deep dyke at the side. Agonized at the sight, the French
rallied, while Marmont and Louis Bonaparte rescued their beloved chief
from capture or from a miry death, and he retired to Ronco, soon
followed by the wearied troops.[67]
[Illustration: PLAN TO ILLUSTRATE THE VICTORY OF ARCOLA.]
This memorable first day of fighting at Arcola (November 15th) closed
on the strange scene of two armies encamped on dykes, exhausted by an
almost amphibious conflict, like that waged by the Dutch "Beggars" in
their war of liberation against Spain. Though at Arcola the
republicans had been severely checked, yet further west Masséna had
held his own; and the French movement as a whole had compelled
Alvintzy to suspend any advance on Verona or on Mantua, to come down
from the heights of Caldiero, and to fight on ground where his
superior numbers were of little avail. This was seen on the second day
of fighting on the dykes opposite Arcola, which was, on the whole,
favourable to the smaller veteran force. On the third day Bonaparte
employed a skilful ruse to add to the discouragement of his foes. He
posted a small body of horsemen behind a spinney near the Austrian
flank, with orders to sound their trumpets as if for a great cavalry
charge. Alarmed by the noise and by the appearance of French troops
from the side of Legnago and behind Arcola, the demoralized
white-coats suddenly gave way and retreated for Vicenza.
Victory again declared for the troops who could dare the longest, and
whose general was never at a loss in face of any definite danger. Both
armies suffered severely in these desperate conflicts;[68] but, while
the Austrians felt that the cup of victory had been snatched from
their very lips, the French soldiery were dazzled by this transcendent
exploit of their chief. They extolled his bravery, which almost vied
with the fabulous achievement of Horatius Cocles, and adored the
genius which saw safety and victory for his discouraged army amidst
swamps and dykes. Bonaparte himself, with that strange mingling of the
practical and the superstitious which forms the charm of his
character, ever afterwards dated the dawn of his fortune in its full
splendour from those hours of supreme crisis among the morasses of
Arcola. But we may doubt whether this posing as the favourite of
fortune was not the result of his profound knowledge of the credulity
of the vulgar herd, which admires genius and worships bravery, but
grovels before persistent good luck.
Though it is difficult to exaggerate the skill and bravery of the
French leader and his troops, the failure of his opponents is
inexplicable but for the fact that most of their troops were unable to
manoeuvre steadily in the open, that Alvintzy was inexperienced as a
commander-in-chief, and was hampered throughout by a bad plan of
campaign. Meanwhile the other Austrian army, led by Davidovich, had
driven Vaubois from his position at Rivoli; and had the Imperialist
generals kept one another informed of their moves, or had Alvintzy,
disregarding a blare of trumpets and a demonstration on his flank and
rear, clung to Arcola for two days longer--the French would have been
nipped between superior forces. But, as it was, the lack of accord in
the Austrian movements nearly ruined the Tyrolese wing, which pushed
on triumphantly towards Verona, while Alvintzy was retreating
eastwards. Warned just in time, Davidovich hastily retreated to
Roveredo, leaving a whole battalion in the hands of the French. To
crown this chapter of blunders, Würmser, whose sortie after Caldiero
might have been most effective, tardily essayed to break through the
blockaders, when both his colleagues were in retreat. How different
were these ill-assorted moves from those of Bonaparte. His maxims
throughout this campaign, and his whole military career, were: (1)
divide for foraging, concentrate for fighting; (2) unity of command is
essential for success; (3) time is everything. This firm grasp of the
essentials of modern warfare insured his triumph over enemies who
trusted to obsolete methods for the defence of antiquated
polities.[69]
The battle of Arcola had an important influence on the fate of Italy
and Europe. In the peninsula all the elements hostile to the
republicans were preparing for an explosion in their rear which should
reaffirm the old saying that Italy was the tomb of the French. Naples
had signed terms of peace with them, it is true; but the natural
animosity of the Vatican against its despoilers could easily have
leagued the south of Italy with the other States that were working
secretly for their expulsion. While the Austrians were victoriously
advancing, these aims were almost openly avowed, and at the close of
the year 1796 Bonaparte moved south to Bologna in order to guide the
Italian patriots in their deliberations and menace the Pope with an
invasion of the Roman States. From this the Pontiff was for the
present saved by new efforts on the part of Austria. But before
describing the final attempt of the Hapsburgs to wrest Italy from
their able adversary, it will be well to notice his growing ascendancy
in diplomatic affairs.
While Bonaparte was struggling in the marshes of Arcola, the Directory
was on the point of sending to Vienna an envoy, General Clarke, with
proposals for an armistice preliminary to negotiations for peace with
Austria. This step was taken, because France was distracted by open
revolt in the south, by general discontent in the west, and by the
retreat of her Rhenish armies, now flung back on the soil of the
Republic by the Austrian Arch-duke Charles. Unable to support large
forces in the east of France out of its bankrupt exchequer, the
Directory desired to be informed of the state of feeling at Vienna. It
therefore sent Clarke with offers, which might enable him to look into
the political and military situation at the enemy's capital, and see
whether peace could not be gained at the price of some of Bonaparte's
conquests. The envoy was an elegant and ambitious young man, descended
from an Irish family long settled in France, who had recently gained
Carnot's favour, and now desired to show his diplomatic skill by
subjecting Bonaparte to the present aims of the Directory.
The Directors' secret instructions reveal the plans which they then
harboured for the reconstruction of the Continent. Having arranged an
armistice which should last up to the end of the next spring, Clarke
was to set forth arrangements which might suit the House of Hapsburg.
He might discuss the restitution of all their possessions in Italy,
and the acquisition of the Bishopric of Salzburg and other smaller
German and Swabian territories: or, if she did not recover the
Milanese, Austria might gain the northern parts of the Papal States as
compensation; and the Duke of Tuscany--a Hapsburg--might reign at
Rome, yielding up his duchy to the Duke of Parma; while, as this last
potentate was a Spanish Bourbon, France might for her good offices to
this House gain largely from Spain in America.[70] In these and other
proposals two methods of bargaining are everywhere prominent. The
great States are in every case to gain at the expense of their weaker
neighbours; Austria is to be appeased; and France is to reap enormous
gains ultimately at the expense of smaller Germanic or Italian States.
These facts should clearly be noted. Napoleon was afterwards
deservedly blamed for carrying out these unprincipled methods; but, at
the worst, he only developed them from those of the Directors, who,
with the cant of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity on their lips,
battened on the plunder of the liberated lands, and cynically proposed
to share the spoil of weaker States with the potentates against whom
they publicly declaimed as tyrants.
The chief aim of these negotiations, so Clarke was assured, was to
convince the Court of Vienna that it would get better terms by
treating with France directly and alone, rather than by joining in the
negotiations which had recently been opened at Paris by England. But
the Viennese Ministers refused to allow Clarke to proceed to their
capital, and appointed Vicenza as the seat of the deliberations.
They were brief. Through the complex web of civilian intrigue,
Bonaparte forthwith thrust the mailed hand of the warrior. He had
little difficulty in proving to Clarke that the situation was
materially altered by the battle of Arcola. The fall of Mantua was now
only a matter of weeks. To allow its provisions to be replenished for
the term of the armistice was an act that no successful general could
tolerate. For that fortress the whole campaign had been waged, and
three Austrian armies had been hurled back into Tyrol and Friuli. Was
it now to be provisioned, in order that the Directory might barter
away the Cispadane Republic? He speedily convinced Clarke of the
fatuity of the Directors' proposals. He imbued him with his own
contempt for an armistice that would rob the victors of their prize;
and, as the Court of Vienna still indulged hopes of success in Italy,
Clarke's negotiations at Vicenza came to a speedy conclusion.
In another important matter the Directory also completely failed.
Nervous as to Bonaparte's ambition, it had secretly ordered Clarke to
watch his conduct and report privately to Paris. Whether warned by a
friend at Court, or forearmed by his own sagacity, Bonaparte knew of
this, and in his intercourse with Clarke deftly let the fact be seen.
He quickly gauged Clarke's powers, and the aim of his mission. "He is
a spy," he remarked a little later to Miot, "whom the Directory have
set upon me: he is a man of no talent--only conceited." The splendour
of his achievements and the mingled grace and authority of his
demeanour so imposed on the envoy that he speedily fell under the
influence of the very man whom he was to watch, and became his
enthusiastic adherent.
Bonaparte was at Bologna, supervising the affairs of the Cispadane
Republic, when he heard that the Austrians were making a last effort
for the relief of Mantua. Another plan had been drawn up by the Aulic
Council at Vienna. Alvintzy, after recruiting his wearied force at
Bassano, was quickly to join the Tyrolese column at Roveredo, thereby
forming an army of 28,000 men wherewith to force the position of
Rivoli and drive the French in on Mantua: 9,000 Imperialists under
Provera were also to advance from the Brenta upon Legnago, in order to
withdraw the attention of the French from the real attempt made by the
valley of the Adige; while 10,000 others at Bassano and elsewhere were
to assail the French front at different points and hinder their
concentration. It will be observed that the errors of July and
November, 1796, were now yet a third time to be committed: the forces
destined merely to make diversions were so strengthened as not to be
merely light bodies distracting the aim of the French, while
Alvintzy's main force was thereby so weakened as to lack the impact
necessary for victory.
Nevertheless, the Imperialists at first threw back their foes with
some losses; and Bonaparte, hurrying northwards to Verona, was for
some hours in a fever of uncertainty as to the movements and strength
of the assailants. Late at night on January 13th he knew that
Provera's advance was little more than a demonstration, and that the
real blow would fall on the 10,000 men marshalled by Joubert at Monte
Baldo and Rivoli. Forthwith he rode to the latter place, and changed
retreat and discouragement into a vigorous offensive by the news that
13,000 more men were on the march to defend the strong position of
Rivoli.
The great defensive strength of this plateau had from the first
attracted his attention. There the Adige in a sharp bend westward
approaches within six miles of Lake Garda. There, too, the mountains,
which hem in the gorge of the river on its right bank, bend away
towards the lake and leave a vast natural amphitheatre, near the
centre of which rises the irregular plateau that commands the exit
from Tyrol. Over this plateau towers on the north Monte Baldo, which,
near the river gorge, sends out southward a sloping ridge, known as
San Marco, connecting it with the plateau. At the foot of this spur is
the summit of the road which leads the traveller from Trent to Verona;
and, as he halts at the top of the zigzag, near the village of Rivoli,
his eye sweeps over the winding gorge of the river beneath, the
threatening mass of Monte Baldo on the north, and on the west of the
village he gazes down on a natural depression which has been sharply
furrowed by a torrent. The least experienced eye can see that the
position is one of great strength. It is a veritable parade ground
among the mountains, almost cut off from them by the ceaseless action
of water, and destined for the defence of the plains of Italy. A small
force posted at the head of the winding roadway can hold at bay an
army toiling up from the valley; but, as at Thermopylae, the position
is liable to be outflanked by an enterprising foe, who should scale
the footpath leading over the western offshoots of Monte Baldo, and,
fording the stream at its foot, should then advance eastwards against
the village. This, in part, was Alvintzy's plan, and having nearly
28,000 men,[71] he doubted not that his enveloping tactics must
capture Joubert's division of 10,000 men. So daunted was even this
brave general by the superior force of his foes that he had ordered a
retreat southwards when an aide-de-camp arrived at full gallop and
ordered him to hold Rivoli at all costs. Bonaparte's arrival at 4 a.m.
explained the order, and an attack made during the darkness wrested
from the Austrians the chapel on the San Marco ridge which stands on
the ridge above the zigzag track. The reflection of the Austrian
watch-fires in the wintry sky showed him their general position. To an
unskilled observer the wide sweep of the glare portended ruin for the
French. To the eye of Bonaparte the sight brought hope. It proved that
his foes were still bent on their old plan of enveloping him: and from
information which he treacherously received from Alvintzy's staff he
must have known that that commander had far fewer than the 45,000 men
which he ascribed to him in bulletins.
[Illustration: NEIGHBOURHOOD OF RIVOLI.]
Yet the full dawn of that January day saw the Imperialists flushed
with success, as their six separate columns drove in the French
outposts and moved towards Rivoli. Of these, one was on the eastern
side of the Adige and merely cannonaded across the valley: another
column wound painfully with most of the artillery and cavalry along
the western bank, making for the village of Incanale and the foot of
the zigzag leading up to Rivoli: three others denied over Monte Baldo
by difficult paths impassable to cannon: while the sixth and
westernmost column, winding along the ridge near Lake Garda, likewise
lacked the power which field-guns and horsemen would have added to its
important turning movement. Never have natural obstacles told more
potently on the fortunes of war than at Rivoli; for on the side where
the assailants most needed horses and guns they could not be used;
while on the eastern edge of their broken front their cannon and
horse, crowded together in the valley of the Adige, had to climb the
winding road under the plunging fire of the French infantry and
artillery. Nevertheless, such was the ardour of the Austrian attack,
that the tide of battle at first set strongly in their favour. Driving
the French from the San Marco ridge and pressing their centre hard
between Monte Baldo and Rivoli, they made it possible for their troops
in the valley to struggle on towards the foot of the zigzag; and on
the west their distant right wing was already beginning to threaten
the French rear. Despite the arrival of Masséna's troops from Verona
about 9 a.m., the republicans showed signs of unsteadiness. Joubert on
the ground above the Adige, Berthier in the centre, and Masséna on the
left, were gradually forced back. An Austrian column, advancing from
the side of Monte Baldo by the narrow ravine, stole round the flank of
a French regiment in front of Masséna's division, and by a vigorous
charge sent it flying in a panic which promised to spread to another
regiment thus uncovered. This was too much for the veteran, already
dubbed "the spoilt child of victory "; he rushed to its captain,
bitterly upbraided him and the other officers, and finally showered
blows on them with the flat of his sword. Then, riding at full speed
to two tried regiments of his own division, he ordered them to check
the foe; and these invincible heroes promptly drove back the
assailants. Even so, however, the valour of the best French regiments
and the skill of Masséna, Berthier, and Joubert barely sufficed to
hold back the onstreaming tide of white-coats opposite Rivoli.
Yet even at this crisis the commander, confident in his central
position, and knowing his ability to ward off the encircling swoops of
the Austrian eagle, maintained that calm demeanour which moved the
wonder of smaller minds. His confidence in his seasoned troops was not
misplaced. The Imperialists, overburdened by long marches and faint
now for lack of food, could not maintain their first advantage. Some
of their foremost troops, that had won the broken ground in front of
St. Mark's Chapel, were suddenly charged by French horse; they fled in
panic, crying out, "French cavalry!" and the space won was speedily
abandoned to the tricolour. This sudden rebuff was to dash all their
hopes of victory; for at that crisis of the day the chief Austrian
column of nearly 8,000 men was struggling up the zigzag ascent leading
from the valley of the Adige to the plateau, in the fond hope that
their foes were by this time driven from the summit. Despite the
terrible fire that tore their flanks, the Imperialists were clutching
desperately at the plateau, when Bonaparte put forth his full striking
power. He could now assail the crowded ranks of the doomed column in
front and on both flanks. A charge of Leclerc's horse and of Joubert's
infantry crushed its head; volleys of cannon and musketry from the
plateau tore its sides; an ammunition wagon exploded in its midst; and
the great constrictor forthwith writhed its bleeding coils back into
the valley, where it lay crushed and helpless for the rest of the
fight.
Animated by this lightning stroke of their commander, the French
turned fiercely towards Monte Baldo and drove back their opponents
into the depression at its foot. But already at their rear loud shouts
warned them of a new danger. The western detachment of the
Imperialists had meanwhile worked round their rear, and, ignorant of
the fate of their comrades, believed that Bonaparte's army was caught
in a trap. The eyes of all the French staff officers were now turned
anxiously on their commander, who quietly remarked, "We have them
now." He knew, in fact, that other French troops marching up from
Verona would take these new foes in the rear; and though Junot and his
horsemen failed to cut their way through so as to expedite their
approach, yet speedily a French regiment burst through the encircling
line and joined in the final attack which drove these last assailants
from the heights south of Rivoli, and later on compelled them to
surrender.
Thus closed the desperate battle of Rivoli (January 14th). Defects in
the Austrian position and the opportune arrival of French
reinforcements served to turn an Austrian success into a complete
rout. Circumstances which to a civilian may seem singly to be of small
account sufficed to tilt the trembling scales of warfare, and
Alvintzy's army now reeled helplessly back into Tyrol with a total
loss of 15,000 men and of nearly all its artillery and stores. Leaving
Joubert to pursue it towards Trent, Bonaparte now flew southwards
towards Mantua, whither Provera had cut his way. Again his untiring
energy, his insatiable care for all probable contingencies, reaped a
success which the ignorant may charge to the account of his fortune.
Strengthening Augereau's division by light troops, he captured the
whole of Provera's army at La Favorita, near the walls of Mantua
(January 16th). The natural result of these two dazzling triumphs was
the fall of the fortress for which the Emperor Francis had risked and
lost five armies. Würmser surrendered Mantua on February 2nd with
18,000 men and immense supplies of arms and stores. The close of this
wondrous campaign was graced by an act of clemency. Generous terms
were accorded to the veteran marshal, whose fidelity to blundering
councillors at Vienna had thrown up in brilliant relief the prudence,
audacity, and resourcefulness of the young war-god.
It was now time to chastise the Pope for his support of the enemies of
France. The Papalini proved to be contemptible as soldiers. They fled
before the republicans, and a military promenade brought the invaders
to Ancona, and then inland to Tolentino, where Pius VI. sued for
peace. The resulting treaty signed at that place (February 19th)
condemned the Holy See to close its ports to the allies, especially to
the English; to acknowledge the acquisition of Avignon by France, and
the establishment of the Cispadane Republic at Bologna, Ferrara, and
the surrounding districts; to pay 30,000,000 francs to the French
Government; and to surrender 100 works of art to the victorious
republicans.
It is needless to describe the remaining stages in Bonaparte's
campaign against Austria. Hitherto he had contended against fairly
good, though discontented and discouraged troops, badly led, and
hampered by the mountain barrier which separated them from their real
base of operations. In the last part of the war he fought against
troops demoralized by an almost unbroken chain of disasters. The
Austrians were now led by a brave and intelligent general, the
Archduke Charles; but he was hampered by rigorous instructions from
Vienna, by senile and indolent generals, by the indignation or despair
of the younger officers at the official favouritism which left them in
obscurity, and by the apathy of soldiers who had lost heart. Neither
his skill nor the natural strength of their positions in Friuli and
Carinthia could avail against veterans flushed with victory and
marshalled with unerring sagacity. The rest of the war only served to
emphasize the truth of Napoleon's later statement, that the moral
element constitutes three-fourths of an army's strength. The barriers
offered by the River Tagliamento and the many commanding heights of
the Carnic and the Noric Alps were as nothing to the triumphant
republicans; and from the heights that guard the province of Styria,
the genius of Napoleon flashed as a terrifying portent to the Court of
Vienna and the potentates of Central Europe. When the tricolour
standards were nearing the town of Leoben, the Emperor Francis sent
envoys to sue for peace;[72] and the preliminaries signed there,
within one hundred miles of the Austrian capital, closed the campaign
which a year previously had opened with so little promise for the
French on the narrow strip of land between the Maritime Alps and the
petty township of Savona.
These brilliant results were due primarily to the consummate
leadership of Bonaparte. His geographical instincts discerned the
means of profiting by natural obstacles and of turning them when they
seemed to screen his opponents. Prompt to divine their plans, he
bewildered them by the audacity of his combinations, which overbore
their columns with superior force at the very time when he seemed
doomed to succumb. Genius so commanding had not been displayed even by
Frederick or Marlborough. And yet these brilliant results could not
have been achieved by an army which rarely exceeded 45,000 men without
the strenuous bravery and tactical skill of the best generals of
division, Augereau, Masséna, and Joubert, as well as of officers who
had shown their worth in many a doubtful fight; Lannes, the hero of
Lodi and Arcola; Marmont, noted for his daring advance of the guns at
Castiglione; Victor, who justified his name by hard fighting at La
Favorita; Murat, the _beau sabreur_, and Junot, both dashing cavalry
generals; and many more whose daring earned them a soldier's death in
order to gain glory for France and liberty for Italy. Still less ought
the soldiery to be forgotten; those troops, whose tattered uniforms
bespoke their ceaseless toils, who grumbled at the frequent lack of
bread, but, as Masséna observed, never _before_ a battle, who even in
retreat never doubted the genius of their chief, and fiercely rallied
at the longed-for sign of fighting. The source of this marvellous
energy is not hard to discover. Their bravery was fed by that
wellspring of hope which had made of France a nation of free men
determined to free the millions beyond their frontiers. The French
columns were "equality on the march"; and the soldiery, animated by
this grand enthusiasm, found its militant embodiment in the great
captain who seemed about to liberate Italy and Central Europe.
* * * * *