The Story of Napoleon

Under cover of night, and during the early hours of the morning of the 23rd, the cumbersome baggage of the Imperialists was hurried across the bridge which spans the Danube at Ratisbon. This was followed by the retreat of part of the army over a pontoon bridge hastily put together, the Austrian rear-guard protecting the necessarily slow and somewhat difficult passage. Nine battalions only remained on the right bank of the river when Napoleon was making his final preparations to take the walled town of Ratisbon by assault. Fighting had already begun near the town. Ladders were secured, and the intrepid Lannes was soon within the old-time fortress, which speedily capitulated.

In his “Incident of the French Camp” Browning has sung of a lad who took part in the storming. He depicts Napoleon standing on a little mound

“With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,Legs wide, arms locked behind,As if to balance the prone browOppressive with its mind.”

The Emperor soliloquises that if Lannes “waver at yonder wall” his plans may miscarry, when—

“Out ’twixt the battery-smokes there flewA rider, bound on boundFull-galloping; nor bridle drewUntil he reached the mound.“Then off there flung in smiling joy,And held himself erectBy just his horse’s mane, a boy:You hardly could suspect—(So tight he kept his lips compressed,Scarce any blood came through)You looked twice ere you saw his breastWas all but shot in two.“‘Well,’ cried he, ‘Emperor, by God’s graceWe’ve got you Ratisbon!The Marshal’s in the market-place,And you’ll be there anonTo see your flag-bird flap his vansWhere I, to heart’s desire,Perched him!’”

Napoleon’s eye flashed with the pride of victory, but presently:

“Softened itself, as sheathesA film the mother-eagle’s eyeWhen her bruised eaglet breathes;‘You’re wounded!’ ‘Nay,’ the soldier’s prideTouched to the quick, he said:‘I’m killed, Sire!’ And his chief besideSmiling the boy fell dead.”

The Emperor himself was slightly wounded while directing operations. A spent musket-ball struck his right foot and caused him considerable pain. “Ah! I am hit,” he remarked quietly, adding with grim humour, “It must have been a Tyrolese marksman to have struck me at such a distance. Those fellows fire with wonderful precision.” The matter soon got noised abroad; the news was passed from rank to rank that the “little Corporal” was wounded. Anxiety was evident in almost every face. Men who had seen many a comrade struck down and had not so much as moved a muscle of their features took on a look of care and of pain until reassured that the Emperor’s injury was a mere contusion. A louder cheer was never raised during the whole of his career, than when Napoleon rode along the lines a little later. Not till then were “his children” convinced of his safety.

Thus ended what has been called the Campaign of Ratisbon, during the five days of which, according to Major-General August Keim, the Imperialists lost nearly 40,000 troops in killed, wounded, and prisoners. Truly a prodigious number and eloquent proof of the valour and energy of their opponents.

There was now nothing to prevent Napoleon from presenting himself before Vienna, but while his troops, flushed with success, were marching towards that picturesque city, their leader heard grave and disquieting news. The Bavarians under Wrede had been defeated on the 24th April by the retreating Austrians+ under Hiller, who was endeavouring to come up with Archduke Charles. Bessières had also been forced to retire. In addition Prince Eugène and the army of Italy had met with disaster at the hands of Archduke John at Sacile eight days before, and had not an immediate concentration of the various Austrian armies become essential for the defence of Vienna the consequences must have been serious.

Marshal Macdonald points out in his “Recollections” that a defeat in Italy was of secondary importance; the decisive point was Germany. There is, however, a moral point of view to be taken into consideration in warfare, to which he also draws attention. “It might have a bad effect,” he says, “upon the Italian mind, already prejudiced against us, kept under as they were, but not conquered; and upon that of the Germans and their armies, although they had been so often beaten, and their territory so often invaded by us. But they were like the teeth of Cadmus; no sooner was one army destroyed than another came to take its place. They seemed to rise out of the ground.” Napoleon was aware that the Tyrolese had broken out in revolt, and that similar movements were expected in other places.

It is unnecessary to follow all the Emperor’s movements on his march to the Imperial city. Bessières, with comparatively few troops at his disposal, came in conflict with a much larger force under Hiller, and was repulsed. The Marshal somewhat retrieved this mishap by crossing the Inn at Passau, where he took several hundred prisoners. These “affairs” were but skirmishes to the battle of Ebelsberg (sometimes spelt Ebersberg) on the 3rd May 1809 between General Hiller and the French vanguard under the impetuous Masséna, at which Napoleon was not present. Hiller had taken up his position at Ebelsberg, crossing the long wooden bridge over the turbulent Traun, a tributary of the Danube, to which admittance was only gained by an extremely narrow gateway beneath a tower, while the whole structure was at the mercy of the guns in and near the castle on the heights above. For purposes of defence the situation approached the ideal, the only thing needed being a skilful commander. The day proved that the Austrian general was lacking in nearly all the qualities possessed by the French officers who opposed him, and was unworthy the men who fought in the ranks. A desperate struggle led by the fearless Coehorn took place on the bridge; men were flung into the surging waters below, while the Austrian artillerymen, perhaps not knowing that many Austrians were on the frail structure, fired at the combatants on the bridge with disastrous results to their own side. To make matters worse several ammunition waggons blew up. It was a repetition of the scene on the Bridge of Lodi, only the carnage was more terrible. Once across, the castle became the next objective of the French, but it was not captured until many a gallant soldier had lost his life in a hand-to-hand struggle in the town below. Hitherto only a comparatively small number of Masséna’s troops had maintained the fight, but the Marshal now hurried fresh men across the bridge to support those engaged with the enemy. Gradually the men fought their way to the castle, and Mr Petre tells us that of one regiment which appeared before it, Colonel Pouget, who commanded, alone escaped without a wound.

“The entrance to the castle,” Mr Petre writes, “was by a vaulted archway open at the outer end, but closed by a strong wooden gate at the inner end. Above was a window, closely barred with iron and with loopholes on either side. From all of these there poured a heavy fire, especially from the grated window. The losses of the besiegers, as they stood and returned the fire from the exposed space between the archway and the mouth of the hollow road, were fearful. Men crowded up to take part in the fight, which was directed by Pouget from the angle of the archway, whence he could both see his own men and the grated window. The French infantry fired as quickly as they could; some even used the dead bodies of their comrades to raise them more on to a level with the window. Then Pouget sent for a well-known sportsman, Lieutenant Guyot, who, taking post within five yards of the window, poured in shots as fast as loaded muskets could be handed to him by the soldiers. Other picked marksmen joined him, and, at last, the Austrian fire began to fail. Sappers had now arrived and were at work breaking in the thick gate.

“In the enthusiasm of the fight Colonel Baudinot and Sub-Lieutenant Gérard of the 2nd battalion had managed to get forward, though most of their battalion was blocked in the narrow road behind. These two intrepid men, followed by a few others as brave as themselves, managed to find a way by the cellar ventilators, whence they got into the castle. Between Gérard and a grenadier of the garrison, who entered a room on the first floor simultaneously, there was a desperate encounter, which was not interfered with by the entrance of a third visitor in the shape of an Austrian round shot. Just at this moment the gate was broken in, and the garrison, including, presumably, Gérard’s grenadier, very soon surrendered as prisoners of war.”

Surely no more thrilling adventure than this is to be found in any story book? And yet it is but one of many that might be related of this campaign alone, could this volume be extended beyond the present limits.

But the storming of the castle of Ebelsberg was not yet over. The burning town had been cleared of the Imperialists, who were now pouring a veritable hail of shot on the besiegers from the surrounding heights, and their situation was perilous in the extreme, cut off as they were from their friends and surrounded only by their foes. Why the Austrians should have begun to retreat when such an opportunity was offered them to annihilate the enemy is beyond comprehension. Such was the case, and they hastened towards Enns, leaving two thousand killed and wounded, and over that number of prisoners. The French also lost very heavily. Late in the afternoon Napoleon came up, and in company with Savary, entered the town. He was by no means pleased with the terrible sights which met him on all sides, and bitterly lamented the heavy losses which his troops had suffered. Savary states that the Emperor remarked: “It were well if all promoters of wars could behold such an appalling picture. They would then discover how much evil humanity has to suffer from their projects.” If he did thus speak, it shows how blinded he had become by his own egotism; for Napoleon had certainly forced the war on unhappy Austria, now sorely discomfited by the turn events had taken.

CHAPTER XXV

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.

CHAPTER XXVI

The War in Poland and Tyrol

(1809)

At the beginning of July Napoleon’s movements showed that a battle was imminent. By means of feints he succeeded in making the enemy believe that his plan was similar to that which had obtained at the battle of Aspern. Thus while the Austrians were occupying their attention with the bridge of Aspern, Napoleon’s forces were crossing by movable bridges lower down the river, near Enzersdorf. This was accomplished during a tremendous thunderstorm, the rain soaking the poor fellows to the skin. On the 5th July the greater part of the troops now at his disposal was ready for action, including those of Prince Eugène. The Emperor’s step-son, successful against Archduke John at the battle of Raab on the 14th June—the anniversary of Marengo—had joined forces with Napoleon; his opponent was hastening to the assistance of Archduke Charles. Marmont and Macdonald, after desultory fighting, also arrived at Lobau. The French army now outnumbered its opponents by 30,000 men.

The battle of Wagram began on the 5th July, but the issue was not determined until the following day. Macdonald, who played a prominent part in the fighting, as will be narrated, thus describes it in a private letter:—

“The crossing of the Danube [on the 4th and 5th July] was a masterpiece of prodigious genius, and it was reserved for the Emperor to conceive, create, and carry it out. It was performed in presence of an army of over 180,000 men.2 The enemy expected the attempt to be made at the same point as that of May 21st.3 They had prepared tremendous entrenchments, and had brought up a formidable body of artillery; but, to their great surprise, they suddenly saw us attack their left flank and turn all the lines of their redoubts. We drove them back three leagues, and when, next day, they tried conclusions with us, they lost the game.

“Never, sir, had two armies a mightier force of artillery, never was battle fought more obstinately. Picture to yourself 1,000 or 1,200 pieces of artillery vomiting forth death upon nearly 350,000 combatants, and you will have an idea of what this hotly-disputed field of battle was like. The enemy, posted upon the heights, entrenched to the teeth in all the villages, formed a sort of crescent, or horse-shoe. The Emperor did not hesitate to enter into the midst of them, and to take up a parallel position.

“His Majesty did me the honour of giving me the command of a corps, with orders to break through the enemy’s centre. I, fortunately, succeeded, notwithstanding the fire of a hundred guns, masses of infantry, and charges of cavalry, led by the Archduke Charles in person. His infantry would never cross bayonets with mine, nor would his cavalry wait till mine came up; the Uhlans alone made a stand, and they were scattered.