The indomitable Bonaparte had nearly destroyed the army of Wurmser. The
laurels of Roveredo, Bassano, and Saint George, adorned his young brow,
beside those of Monte Notte, Lodi and Castiglione. Within ten days, he
had carried positions, the natural difficulties of which seemed to defy
human assault, killed or captured about twenty thousand men, and taken
artillery and stores which were almost an encumbrance to his gallant
little army. His brave officers, Massena, Augereau, Bessieres, Murat,
Berthier, Lannes, and the rest, had heaped up their titles to immortal
renown. To use the language of Thiers, “France was lost in admiration of
the commander-in-chief of the army of Italy.”
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[Illustration: NAPOLEON AT THE BRIDGE OF ARCOLA. Page 58.]
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Still, Bonaparte’s situation was rapidly becoming one of startling
peril. Austria redoubled her efforts to recover Lombardy. A fine army
was prepared from the wrecks of Wurmser, the troops from Poland and
Turkey, the detachments from the Rhine, and fresh recruits. Marshal
Alvinzi was appointed to the command. Bonaparte’s army at this time
numbered about thirty thousand men, but they were badly provided, while
Alvinzi could bring sixty thousand men into the field. On the 1st of
November, 1796, the Austrian commander advanced upon the Brenta. At
first, the French fell back, but Bonaparte resolved to strike a blow at
the onset of this new series of movements, which would break the spirit
of the enemy. The action took place on the 5th, between Carmignano and
Bassano, and after a hot and bloody conflict, the French were
victorious. Other contests followed; but in spite of the advantages
gained by Bonaparte, he found that unless a great decisive battle was
fought, Italy would be lost. The troops began to murmur at the neglect
with which their government treated them, and the general complained to
the Directory that the majority of his best officers were either killed
or disabled by wounds. But in the meantime, Bonaparte conceived a daring
plan of action, which, considering the circumstances, stands
unparalleled in the annals of war. He resolved to give battle,
unexpectedly, amid the marshes of the Adige, where the difference in
numbers would be neutralized. Then followed the tremendous battle of
Arcola, which lasted seventy-two hours, and ended in the complete
triumph of the French.
It was the night of the 17th of November. The sun had set upon a third
day of slaughter amid the marshes and upon the plain at Arcola. But with
the quiet shadows of evening, came victory to gladden the hearts of the
French and their glorious general. Exhausted by the terrible conflict,
both armies were to pass the night upon the plain. But the Austrians
took care to be beyond the reach of the conquerors and far towards
Vicenza. The French kindled their camp-fires upon the field of their
triumph. It was a gloomy night. Neither moon nor star smiled in the sky;
and the line of the encampments could only be traced by the fires,
blazing even among the heaps of the dead, while far away over the plain
the long line of Austrian fires could be distinguished. Having partaken
of some slight refreshment, the French soldiers were stretched upon the
ground around the fires. The majority slept. But to some, wearied as
they were in body, sleep would not come, so excited were their minds by
the vivid and terrible images of the conflict through which they had
passed. The Guides, who had kindled their fires around a little cottage
in which Bonaparte had taken quarters for the night, were among the
wakeful ones. They had secured for themselves, at the order of the
commander-in-chief, abundant refreshments, and now, sitting upon their
camp-stools to rest their weary limbs, they discussed both the provision
and the glorious achievements of the army of Italy. Their number had
been considerably thinned by the great battle through which they had
just passed, for they, as well as their general, had been in the
thickest of the fire. But there were still Bessieres, the commander,
young Lemarois, Duroc, and others of distinction; while among them was,
Augereau, who, having been reared in the democratic faubourg St.
Antoine, never had any scruples upon the subject of rank, outside of
actual military operations. He associated with general and private upon
equal terms. The others doubtless considered themselves as honoring the
company with their presence; but they could not have formed a part of a
more gallant group. Not an officer among them but bore marks of the
terrible conflict through which they had passed. Their costume was
bespattered with mud, their faces blackened with powder, and some of
them had sabre wounds, which, for the time, disfigured their
countenances.
“The officers of the army have suffered dreadfully, during these three
days of fighting,” said Augereau. “I thought that before the battle we
were crippled enough in that way; but only look now. Here’s General
Lannes, who was wounded before he went into the conflict, and he now
lies low with three more wounds. Verne, Bon, Verdier, and several others
are also wounded, while General Robert and the brave Colonel Muiron, who
saved General Bonaparte’s life at Toulon, and covered him here again,
are killed.”
“This battle will long be deemed a glorious monument of the genius of
Bonaparte,” said Bessieres, “I say it with deference, that heroic as are
his principal officers, they might have striven in vain against the
superior numbers of the enemy, but for the daring and profound
combinations of the general-in-chief, while much is also due to his
efforts of resolute valor during the struggle.”
“No one will venture to deny that,” said the frank and generous
Augereau. Massena merely nodded his head, but left the meaning of the
nod unexplained.
“For,” continued Bessieres, “consider the position of the army before
the battle. Our army was greatly inferior in numbers to that of Alvinzi,
as, in spite of the immense loss of the Austrians, it remains. Our
hospitals were full of sick and wounded. The troops were dispirited,
because of the shameful neglect with which their government treated
them. A large number of our best officers were entirely disabled. Yet an
address from General Bonaparte restored confidence to the army, and
when, on the night of the 15th, orders were given to the troops to fall
back, they obeyed with alacrity, although they believed they were
retreating—a movement to which they are unaccustomed, for they supposed
that some daring plan had been formed for their glory. When they had
recrossed the Adige by the bridge of boats here at Ronco, they found
that their confidence in their general had not been misplaced.”
“See then,” said Duroc, “how General Bonaparte availed himself of the
advantages of the ground. What other general of this age would have
thought of fighting among the marshes. Alvinzi was encamped on the road
from Verona to the Brenta. Consequently when General Bonaparte reached
Ronco, he found himself brought back on the flanks and nearly on the
rear of the Austrians. The army was then amidst extensive marshes,
traversed by two causeways, which we were ordered to occupy.
“Now mark the result of his calculations; amidst these marshes numerical
advantage was neutralized; there was no deploying but upon the
causeways, and on the causeways the courage of the advanced guards of
the columns would decide the event. By the causeway on the left, which
communicated with the road between Verona and Caldiero, he could fall
upon the Austrians if they attempted to scale Verona. By the causeway on
the right, which crossed the Alpon at the bridge of Arcola, and
terminated at Villa Nova, he might debouch upon the rear of Alvinzi,
take his artillery and baggage, and cut off his retreat. He was
therefore impregnable at Ronco, and he stretched his two arms around the
enemy. He had caused the gates at Verona to be shut, and had left
Kilmaine there, with fifteen hundred men, to stand a first assault. This
combination, so daring and so profound, struck the army, and inspired
them with confidence.”
“It was a grand stroke of genius,” said Massena. “I was stationed on the
_dike_ at the left, so as to go up to Gombione and Porcil, and take the
enemy in the rear, if he should march to Verona.”
“And I,” observed Augereau, “was despatched to the right, to debouch
upon Villa Nova. But before I could advance along the right hand dike, I
had to cross the Alpon by the bridge of Arcola. Some battalions of
Croats were stationed along the river, and had their cannon pointed at
the bridge. They received my advance guard with a rattling fire of
musketry, and at first the men fell back. I rode up and did all in my
power to push them on, but the fire compelled them to halt. Soon after
that, I saw a party of Hungarian cavalry come to inquire into the reason
of the firing among the marshes. The Austrian marshal could not
understand it. He did not for a moment suppose that General Bonaparte
would choose such a field of battle, at least I judge so, from his
orders.”
“Ha! ha!” shouted Massena, “you should have seen Rivera leading his
division close along the left dike where I was posted. I permitted them
to get too far on the dike to retreat, and then dashed upon them at a
run. How we tumbled them into the marsh! Ha! ha! The troops shot them by
scores, as they floundered in the mud and water. Ha! ha!” It was a grim
laugh.
“I did the same for Mitrowski’s division,” said Augereau. “I then
pursued, and attempted to pass the bridge, the soldiers gallantly
crowding around the flag I held to cheer them on. But they could not
stand that tremendous fire. Lannes, Bon, Verne, and Verdier were
wounded. In spite of my utmost efforts, the column fell back, and the
soldiers descended to the side of the dike, to shelter themselves from
the fire.”
“Then came the heroism of the ‘Little Corporal,’” exclaimed Duroc, his
eyes glowing with enthusiasm. “He saw from Ronco, that Alvinzi had
become sensible of his danger, and was striving to prevent you, brave
Guyeux, from taking him in the rear at Villa Nova. He saw that it was of
the utmost importance to cross the river at Arcola immediately, if he
would gain Alvinzi’s rear, and thus secure great results. Did you see
that glorious commander? He set off at full gallop, came near the
bridge, threw himself from his horse, went to the soldiers who were
crouching down by the borders of the dike, asked them if they were still
the conquerors of Lodi, revived their courage by his words, and seizing
a flag cried, ‘Follow your general!’ Hearing his voice, a number of
soldiers went up to the causeway and followed him; unfortunately, the
movement could not be communicated to the whole of the column, the rest
of which remained behind the dike. Bonaparte advanced, carrying the flag
in his hand, amidst a shower of balls and grape-shot. We all surrounded
him. Lannes, who had already received two wounds from musket-shots
during the battle, was struck by a third. Muiron, the general’s
aid-de-camp, striving to cover him with his body, fell dead at his feet.
The column was nevertheless on the point of clearing the bridge, when a
last discharge arrested it, and threw it back. The rear abandoned the
advance. The soldiers who still remained with the general, then laid
hold of him, carried him away amidst the fire and smoke, and insisted on
his remounting his horse. An Austrian column debouching upon them, threw
them in disorder into the marsh. Bonaparte fell in, and sunk up to the
waist. As soon as the soldiers perceived his danger, ‘Forward,’ cried
they, ‘to save the general.’ They ran after Belliard and Vignolles to
extricate him. They pulled him out of the mud, set him upon his horse
again, pressed forward and Arcola was taken.
“Was there ever a more glorious man?” And as the enthusiastic Duroc
concluded his animated description of the splendid exploit, his eyes
gleamed in admiration of his great friend and patron.
“Yes,” said Guyeux, “Arcola was taken. But I could not get across the
river in time to attack Alvinzi’s rear, and thus the Austrian was
enabled to deploy into the plain. The general had striven gloriously,
but he had not attained his object. In my humble opinion, he might have
avoided the obstacle of Arcola by throwing his bridge over the Adige a
little below Ronco.
“Aye,” said Massena, “but then he would have debouched into the plain,
which it was of great importance to avoid. The general had the best
reasons for doing what he did, and although the success was imperfect,
important results had been obtained. Alvinzi had quitted the formidable
position of Caldiero; he had descended again into the plain, he no
longer threatened Verona; and he had lost a great number of men in the
marshes. The two dikes had become the only field of battle between the
two armies, which gave the superiority to bravery. Besides, so glorious
had been the conflict, that our soldiers had completely recovered their
confidence, a result of immense importance, as all may perceive.” This
defence of Bonaparte’s course did honor to the intelligence of Massena.
“But it must be admitted,” said Bessieres, “that the battle of to-day
surpassed all the rest in the display of strategic genius. Yesterday was
glorious for us, for the bravery and perseverance of the whole army was
exerted in beating the enemy from the dikes, and tumbling them into the
marsh, and we destroyed an immense number of them. But to-day proved
most conclusively that in strategy our general is at least the rival of
the Carthagenian Hannibal. Our general saw that the long conflict had
disheartened the enemy, and considerably reduced their superior numbers.
He then dared to encounter them on the plain. You, General Massena,
marching at the head of your column, with your hat upon the point of
your sword, showed them the way to victory, and the Austrians were once
more crowded into the marsh. But General Robert was repulsed at the
bridge of Ronco. Yet mark the resources of the general-in-chief!
Sensible of the danger, he placed the 32d in a wood of willows, which
borders the right hand dike. While the enemy’s column, victorious over
Robert, was advancing, the 32d sallied from its ambuscade, and, of the
three thousand Croates who composed it, the greater part were slain or
captured. Crossing the Alpon, Bonaparte brought the whole army into the
plain, in front of the Austrians. An ordinary general would now have
ordered a simple charge. But the ‘Little Corporal’ determined upon a
stratagem. A marsh, overgrown with reeds, covered the left wing of the
Austrians. Hercule, _chef de battallion_, was ordered to take
twenty-five guards, to march in single line through the reeds, and to
make a sudden charge, with a great blast of trumpets.”
“And Hercule was the very man for such a desperate service,” observed
Duroc.
“Precisely,” said Bessieres. “Then the great charge was made by you
generals, Massena and Augereau; but the Austrians stood their ground
until they heard the great blast of trumpets, when, thinking they were
going to be charged by a whole division of cavalry, they fled, and the
battle was decided in favor of France. Italy is our own.”
“Not yet,” said Massena. “Austria is stubborn. In spite of her many
defeats, she will make at least one more effort to recover possession of
this fair land. We have much fighting yet to do, I am sure.”
“We have lost many brave men in these three fighting days,” said young
Lemarois. “But the enemy have suffered a loss of at least twelve
thousand killed, and six thousand made prisoners, while we have taken
eighteen pieces of cannon and four stand of colors.”
“Trophies enough,” said Augereau. “It seems to me, that whether this
battle has decided the fate of Italy or not, we shall soon have a short
respite from our toils, which will give us time to recruit.”
The conversation continued thus till most of the officers, being
overcome with fatigue, retired to their quarters. The Guides slept
around their fires, in close proximity to numbers of the gallant dead,
whose slumber was destined to be broken only by the archangel’s trump.
In the meantime, the young conqueror had sought his couch for much
needed repose, and so soundly did he sleep that even the glories of
Arcola were forgotten for the time.
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