The Austrian Campaign--_continued_
(1809)
On the 10th May 1809, the French were before Vienna, and preparations
were made for a vigorous attack. Late in the evening of the 11th the
Emperor’s artillerymen began to hurl shells into the city, which was
but ill-defended by Archduke Maximilian, who thought too much of his
own skin to be of any considerable service, and speedily retired with
his troops from the capital. Within forty-eight hours of the first
shot being fired many of the French troops were in Vienna, the Emperor
taking up his quarters in the palace of Schönbrünn near by.
Here he issued a decree annexing Rome, to which Pius VII. retorted with
a Bull of excommunication. Napoleon, always an admirer of Charlemagne,
referred to that monarch as “our august predecessor.” He had already
hinted that the Pope should be no more than Bishop of Rome, as was the
case under the rule of the founder of the Empire of the West. Several
weeks later the Holy Father was escorted from the Quirinal to Avignon,
and thence to Savona, in which quiet retreat the Emperor hoped he would
come to his senses, in other words, to Napoleon’s way of thinking. This
is exactly what the aged and determined Pontiff did not do, however. He
preferred to remain virtually a prisoner and to pray for the recovery
of his temporal kingdom rather than to submit to the dictatorship of
the Emperor. The latter did not see fit to relent until 1814, the Pope
then being at Fontainebleau. He offered to restore a portion of his
states, but Pius VII. refused to discuss any terms except from Rome, to
which city he returned on the Emperor’s abdication.
Decisive victory over his Austrian foes had yet to be gained by
Napoleon, and while Hillier was slowly endeavouring to unite with
Archduke Charles on the left bank of the Danube, the Emperor was laying
his well-conceived plans before his generals.
The following interesting anecdote is related of this campaign.
It shows how a raw recruit may become imbued with a keen sense of
responsibility after spending a few months in the ranks.
A sentinel, Jean Baptiste Coluche, was stationed by two paths near the
Emperor’s temporary headquarters on a certain night. He had been told
to allow no one to pass, so when his quick ears detected a scrunch on
the gravel some distance away, he carried out his instructions without
question. Jean shouted to the intruder to stop. No notice was taken;
the heavy, measured steps drew nearer. Again he repeated his summons,
and bringing his carbine to his shoulder, prepared to fire. At that
moment the outline of a dark and unmistakable figure approached. It was
the Emperor himself. When the guard, alarmed by the cries, came up to
render assistance, they set to chaffing Coluche, but the only reply of
the peasant conscript was: “I’ve carried out my orders.”
This was by no means the only occasion on which the Emperor appeared
when least expected, and he was wont to reward the soldier whom he
found on the _qui vive_ under such circumstances. It was not so with
the faithful Coluche. But in 1814 the much-coveted Cross of the Legion
of Honour was pinned on his breast for his heroism at the battle of
Arcis-sur-Aube, when the man whom he had ordered to halt before the
walls of Vienna was forced to beat a retreat.
Bourrienne relates another interesting anecdote told to him by Rapp,
the Emperor’s aide-de-camp during the Austrian campaign. It concerns
“one of those striking remarks of Napoleon,” to quote Bourrienne,
“which, when his words are compared with the events that follow them,
would almost appear to indicate a foresight of his future destiny.
The Emperor, when within a few day’s march of Vienna, procured a
guide to explain to him the names of every village, or ruin, however
insignificant, that presented itself on his road. The guide pointed to
an eminence, on which were still visible a few remaining vestiges of
an old fortified castle. ‘Those,’ said the guide, ‘are the ruins of
the castle of Diernstein.’ Napoleon suddenly stopped, and remained for
some time silently contemplating the ruins, then turning to Marshal
Lannes, who was with him, he said: ‘See! yonder is the prison of
Richard Cœur de Lion. He, too, like us, went to Syria and Palestine.
But Cœur de Lion, my brave Lannes, was not more brave than you. He was
more fortunate than I at St Jean d’Acre. A duke of Austria sold him to
an emperor of Germany, who shut him up in yonder castle. Those were
the days of barbarism. How different the civilisation of our times!
The world has seen how I treated the Emperor of Austria, whom I might
have imprisoned--and I would treat him so again. I take no credit to
myself for this. In the present age crowned heads must be respected. A
conqueror imprisoned!’” and yet that is exactly what happened to the
speaker but a few years later.
At last Archduke Charles and Hillier joined forces on the Marchfeld,
intent on regaining the lost capital. Napoleon had made up his mind
to fight in the very camp of the enemy by crossing the Danube. For
this purpose he built a succession of bridges consisting of boats and
pontoons from Ebersdorf to the three islands in the river, and linked
the last and largest of these, that of Lobau, to the opposite bank.
The first troops to cross occupied the stone-built villages of Aspern
and Essling, which served somewhat as fortified places. The French
found themselves confronted by quite double the number of Imperialists.
Both villages were attacked with feverish energy, the assault on Aspern
being the more severe. It was ably defended by Masséna, while Lannes at
Essling fought as he had never done before. When night fell, the latter
still successfully defied the Austrians, while the white coats, after
making repeated unsuccessful attempts to capture Aspern, had effected
a lodgment in the church and the graveyard. This was partly due to
the energy of Archduke Charles, who led the last attack of the day in
person.
Good use was made of the succeeding night by Napoleon. He hurried
over as many troops as possible to the bank of the Danube occupied by
the Imperialists, a necessarily slow process owing to the frequent
breaches made in the temporary bridges by obstructions floated down
the rapidly-rising river by the Austrians. These difficulties taxed
the resources of the engineers, but they stuck manfully to their task,
while the troops cared little if the pontoons were under water provided
they could reach the opposite bank. Early on the 22nd May there were
63,000 troops ready to advance against the Imperialists who, not having
been called upon to labour so arduously through the night as the French
had done, were considerably fresher for the day’s work. Fighting at
Aspern and Essling had been resumed long since, if indeed it had left
off, the first charge of the day being against the Austrian centre by
Lannes. The French battalions sustained a raking fire from the enemy’s
artillery, some of whose infantry, however, soon showed such signs
of weakness that Archduke Charles, as on the day before, caught up a
standard and shouted to the grenadiers to follow him. They did so to
such good purpose that further progress of the French infantry was
impossible. Nor did their comrades of the cavalry, sent to their relief
under Bessières, fare better. According to some accounts, when victory
seemed almost in the grasp of Napoleon’s men, the Austrians were
reinforced in the nick of time and Bessières compelled to retire.
Other disasters of an even more serious nature were in store for the
French. The bridge between the right bank and the island of Lobau was
severed, thus cutting off all connection with the Emperor’s troops and
those fighting against the Austrians.
Meanwhile the Archduke took advantage of his enemy’s discomfiture by
attacking the two villages which had figured so prominently in the
contest of the previous day with greater energy than ever. Still the
French fought on. Many a brave man fell in the desperate struggle,
which finally resulted in Aspern being held by the Austrians and the
French retaining Essling. The gallant Lannes had both his knees almost
carried away by a shot when the battle was beginning to slacken. He had
defended Essling with all his native genius and the most consummate
bravery, amply retrieving his somewhat inglorious doings in the Spanish
Campaign. The Emperor frequently visited the stricken Marshal, who
shortly before he passed away feebly murmured: “Another hour and your
Majesty will have lost one of your most zealous and faithful friends.”
This was on the last day of May, 1809, and the master whom he had
served so well wrote to Josephine in words which show how keenly he
appreciated the fallen warrior: “The loss of the Duke of Montebello,
who died this morning, deeply affects me. Thus all things end.
Adieu, my love. If you can contribute to the consolation of the poor
Marchioness, do it.” At St Helena the fallen King-maker said, “I found
Lannes a dwarf, but I made him a giant!”
On the following day (the 23rd), the bridge being now repaired, the
French retired to well-wooded Lobau, soon to be re-named the Ile
Napoléon. The honours of the fight remained with the Austrians; the
great Napoleon had been defeated! True to his creed, the Emperor
announced a victory, “since we remain masters of the field of battle,”
and admitted simply that the fight had been “severe,” in which latter
contention he was indisputably correct. Success or failure, it proved
to his enemies that either Napoleon’s genius for war was failing or
that he had undertaken more than he could carry out. This disaster,
added to those which had occurred in the Peninsula, was regarded as
proof positive in certain quarters that Napoleon’s star was setting.
They took little account of the fact that the French forces had been
greatly outnumbered both in men and munitions of war, remembering only
that they had retreated. Beaten many times before, a defeat or two more
did not affect the prestige of the Imperialists, but for the hitherto
invincible warrior no excuse was found.
Encouraged by the French reverse, an alliance between Austria and
Prussia was now mooted, but Frederick William showed his usual
indecision, and consequently the negotiations collapsed, to the great
disappointment of the Emperor Francis’s hope of an almost unanimous
rising in Germany.
Had the King of Prussia possessed some of the pluck displayed by
several officers who had served in his army, and now attempted to raise
the standard of revolt against Napoleon in Westphalia and Saxony,
Frederick William III. would have been a less sorry figure in the
history of his country. For instance, Baron von Dörnberg headed a
campaign against the unpopular King Jerome, while Major Frederick von
Schill, after attempting to capture Wittenberg and Magdeburg, laid down
his life for the national cause in the assault on Stralsund. Neither
of these soldiers of fortune accomplished anything of importance,
mainly because the means at their disposal were abnormally small, but
they displayed a spirit of true patriotism. Duke Frederick William
of Brunswick-Oels succeeded in occupying Dresden and Leipzig and in
forcing Jerome to retreat, but in the end the enthusiastic volunteer
and his Black Band were compelled to seek refuge on British ships and
sail for England.
For seven weeks after the battle of Aspern the two armies prepared
for the next contest, but in expedition and thoroughness Napoleon far
outstripped his opponents. If occasional fighting sometimes occurred it
was usually no more than an affair of outposts. Both sides were far too
busily engaged in repairing their misfortunes, securing reinforcements
and additional supplies, to waste men and ammunition in conflicts
which could not be other than indecisive. Napoleon took good care to
see that the new bridges were more solidly constructed than those which
had contributed so much to his defeat. Not only were his arrangements
for their protection more complete, but gunboats were stationed
in suitable positions for their defence. Lobau was entrenched and
fortified; nothing was to be left to chance on the next occasion.