The Camp-fires of Napoleon

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.

THE CAMP-FIRE AT RIVOLI

The chain of Monte Baldo divides the lake of Garda from the Adige. The high road winds between the Adige and the foot of the mountains, to the extent of some leagues. At Incanale the river washes the very base of the mountains, leaves no room whatever for proceeding along its bank. The road then leaves the banks of the river, rises by a zig-zag direction round the sides of the mountain, and debouches upon an extensive elevated plain, which is that of Rivoli. It overlooks the Adige on one side, and is encompassed on the other side by the amphitheatre of Monte Baldo. An army in position of this plateau commands the winding road by which the ascent to it is made, and sweeps by its fire both banks of the Adige to a great distance. It is very difficult to storm this plateau in front, since you must climb up the narrow zig-zag road before you can reach it. Therefore no one would attempt to attack it by that single way. Before arriving at Incanale, other roads lead to Monte Baldo, and ascending its long and sloping acclivities terminate at the plateau of Rivoli. They are not passable either for cavalry or for artillery, but they afford easy access to foot soldiers, and may be made available for carrying a considerable force in infantry upon the flanks and rear of the body defending the plateau.

Here the star of Napoleon was destined to shine with new glory. Alvinzi commanded the principal attack on the Tyrolese side, at the head of fifty thousand men, and advanced his head-quarters from Bassano to Roveredo. General Provera took the command of the army on the lower Adige, which was twenty thousand strong: its head-quarters were at Padua. A great many troops appeared on different points, and some spirited actions also took place in the course of the 12th and 13th; but the enemy had not fully unmasked his plans, so that the moment for adopting a decisive course had not yet arrived. On the 13th it rained very heavily, and Napoleon had not yet resolved in what direction to march, whether up or down the Adige. At ten in the evening, the accounts from Joubert, at La Corona, determined him. It was plain that the Austrians were operating with two independent corps, the principal attack being intended against Monte Baldo, the minor one on the Lower Adige. Augereau’s division appeared sufficient to dispute the passage of the river with Provera; but on the Monte Baldo side the danger was imminent. There was not a moment to lose; for the enemy was about to effect a junction with his artillery and cavalry, by taking possession of the level of Rivoli; and if he could be attacked before he could gain that important point, he would be obliged to fight without artillery or cavalry. All the troops were therefore put in motion from the head-quarters at Verona, to reach Rivoli before day-break; the general-in-chief proceeded to the same point, and arrived there at two in the morning.

The weather had been rainy for several days. But now the sky was without a cloud. The moon and stars shone with a brilliancy peculiar to their light in this region. The air was keen and bitter cold. The French general, accompanied by his aids and the faithful Guides, proceeded to a projecting rock on the heights of Monte Maggone, to gain a complete view of the enemy, previous to fixing the plan of battle. And now behold the group, dismounted, and collected near the fire, Bonaparte being in advance, with glass in hand, surveying the positions of the enemy. Duroc, Lemarois, Murat, Berthier and Bessieres stood together just behind him. The whole horizon was in a blaze with the Austrian fires, and the red glare contrasted strangely with the pure white light of the moon. Bonaparte observed and talked with his customary precision and rapidity.

“Alvinzi has at least forty-five thousand men under his command. We have but twenty-two thousand; while the brave Joubert, who has so nobly maintained his position at Rivoli, has but ten thousand. The enemy has divided his force into three columns, although I see no less than five camps. The principal column, will proceed along the high road between the river and Monte Baldo, and will debouch by the winding road of Incanale. Three divisions of infantry have climbed the steep mountains, and will get to the field by descending the steps of the amphitheatre formed by this chain of heights. Another division will wind round the side of the mountains and attempt to gain our rear.

“But yonder seems to be another camp on the other side of the Adige,” said Murat, pointing to a line of fires.

“True,” said Bonaparte, “but that can do no damage. It can only fire a few balls across the river. It is clear, we must keep the plateau at all events. Posted there we prevent the junction of the different divisions of the enemy. We may play our artillery upon the infantry which is deprived of its cannon, and drive back the cavalry and artillery which must be crowded together in a narrow, winding road. The other divisions will not trouble us much.” Thus, with lightning-like rapidity, did this matchless general conceive the plan which was to give him a glorious victory.

“I suppose we are to begin the battle at daybreak,” said Duroc.

“At daybreak! Now! now is the time!” replied the French general, sharply. “Duroc! Joubert’s troops have been fighting forty-eight hours, and they are now taking a little repose. They must be aroused immediately. Tell them for me, that they must not let Massena’s division surpass them in endurance, and his troops have marched by night and fought by day. Order General Joubert to attack the advanced post of the Austrian infantry, drive them back, and extend his force more widely upon the plateau.”

Duroc immediately spurred away to communicate the order to Joubert.

“Joubert has done well; but he should not have abandoned yonder St. Mark’s Chapel. At all events, I do not believe the enemy have occupied it. Duroc is rapid in movement. The battle of Rivoli will soon commence,” said the French general.

“I wish Massena was nearer the field,” observed Murat.

“He will be up in time, never fear. He is indomitable. Besides, if the battle should assume a critical aspect, I will go myself to hurry up his division. Ha! Joubert is up like a roused lion, and in movement. Who leads the column? Vial—a brave officer,” continued Bonaparte. At this moment, a rattling fire of musketry rang on the air, and from the height where Bonaparte stood, could be seen the rapid advance of Joubert’s troops, as well as the long line of D’Ocksky’s column of Croats against whom the attack was directed. Then the thunder of the artillery was heard, and clouds of smoke curled up from the plateau.”

“St. Mark’s Chapel is recovered,” said Bessieres.

“The Austrian infantry cannot stand against the artillery, and they are falling back in a semicircle, with the heights at their rear,” remarked Bonaparte.

At this moment, Liptai’s division which kept the extremity of the enemy’s semicircle, fell upon Joubert’s left, composed of the 89th and 25th demi-brigades, surprised them, broke their lines and compelled them to retire in disorder. The 14th coming immediately after these demi-brigades formed en crochet to cover the rest of the line, and bravely stood their ground. The Austrians now put forth all their strength and almost overwhelmed this little band of heroes. They made desperate efforts to capture the artillery, the horses of which had all been killed. They had even reached the pieces, when a brave officer rushed forward, and exhorted the grenadiers not to allow their guns to be taken. Fifty men immediately rushed forward, repulsed the enemy, harnessed themselves to the pieces, and drew them back.

In the midst of this terrible struggle, the day began to dawn upon the field of Rivoli. Bonaparte who had watched the progress of the fight with the keenest interest, repeatedly making exclamations of surprise or admiration, now perceived the critical position of affairs. Turning to Berthier, he said quickly,

“General Berthier, I leave you in charge of my troops at the point where they are threatened. I know you and General Joubert can hold that position, no matter what the number of the enemy may be. I am going with all speed after Massena. Come, aids—Bessieres, mount and forward!” The whole party was quickly in the saddle, and away, leaving the watch-fire to smoulder and die, as the lurid blaze of battle arose upon the plain.

Massena’s first troops had scarcely come up, after marching all night. Bonaparte took the 32d, already distinguished by its exploits during the campaign, and brought it to bear upon the left, so as to rally the two demi-brigades, which had given way. The intrepid Massena advanced at its head, rallied behind him the broken troops, and overthrew all before him. He repulsed the Austrians, and placed himself by the side of the 14th, which had not ceased to perform prodigies of valor. The fight was thus kept up on this point, and the army occupied the semicircle of the plateau. But the momentary check of the left wing had obliged Joubert to fall back with the right; he gave ground, and already the Austrian infantry was a second time nearing that point which Bonaparte had such an object in compelling him to abandon; in fact, the Austrian infantry was about getting up to the outlet by which the winding road of Incanale led to the plateau. At this moment, the column composed of artillery and cavalry, and preceded by several battalions of grenadiers, ascended the winding road, and with incredible efforts of bravery, repulsed the 29th. Wukassovich, from the other bank of the Adige, sent a shower of cannon balls to protect this kind of escalade. Already had the grenadiers climbed the summit of the defile, and the cavalry was debouching in their train upon the plateau. This was not all. Lusignan’s column, whose fires had been seen at a distance, and who had been perceived on the left, getting to the rear of the position of the French, were now coming up to their rear, in order to cut them off from the road to Verona, and to stop Rey, who was coming from Castel-Novo with the division of reserve. Lusignan’s soldiers finding themselves on the rear of the French army, already clapped their hands, and considered it as taken. Thus, on this plateau, closely pressed in front by a semicircle of infantry, pressed on the rear, on the left by a strong column, sealed on the right by the main body of the Austrian army, and galled by the cannon balls which came from the opposite bank of the Adige in the direction of this plateau, Bonaparte was alone with Joubert’s and Massena’s divisions, in the midst of a cloud of enemies. In fact, he was with sixteen thousand men, surrounded by forty thousand at least.

At this anxious moment, Bonaparte was not shaken; he retained all the fire of inspiration. On seeing Lusignan’s Austrians, he said, “Those are ours!” and he allowed them to engage without giving himself any concern about their movement. The soldiers, conjecturing what their general meant, experienced the same confidence, and also repeated to one another, “They are ours!” Bonaparte did not concern himself with more than what was passing before him. His left was protected by the heroism of the 14th and the 32d. His right was threatened at once by the infantry which had resumed the offensive, and by the column that was scaling the plateau. He immediately directed decisive movements to be effected.

A battery of light artillery and two squadrons, under two brave officers, Leclerc and Laselle, were ordered to the outlet of which the enemy had taken possession. Joubert, who, with the extreme right, had this outlet at his back, suddenly faced about with a corps of light infantry. All charged at once. The artillery first poured a discharge upon all that had debouched; the cavalry and light infantry then charged with vigor. Joubert’s horse was killed under him; he got up nowise daunted, and rushed upon the enemy with a musket in his hand. All that had debouched, grenadiers, cavalry, artillery, all were hurled pell-mell headlong down the winding road of Incanale. The confusion was awful; some pieces of cannon firing down into the defile, augmented the terror and confusion. At every step, the French killed and made prisoners.

Having cleared the plateau of the assailants who had scaled it, Bonaparte again returned to his attacks against the infantry which was ranged in semicircle before him, and set Joubert upon it with the light infantry, and Laselle with two hundred hussars. On this new attack, consternation seized that infantry, now deprived of all hope of effecting a junction with the main body; it fled in confusion. The French semicircular line then moved from right to left, drove back the Austrians against the amphitheatre of Monte Baldo, and pursued them as far as possible into the mountains. Bonaparte then returned, and proceeded to realize his prediction upon Lusignan’s division. That body, on witnessing the disasters of the Austrian army, soon perceived what would be its own fate. Bonaparte, after firing upon it with grape-shot, ordered the 18th and the 75th demi-brigades to charge. These brave demi-brigades moved onwards, singing the chant du départ, and drove Lusignan back by the road which Rey was coming up with the reserve. The Austrian corps at first made a stand, then retreated, and came full butt upon the advanced guard of Rey’s division. Terrified at this sight, it sought the clemency of the conqueror, and laid down its arms, to the number of four thousand men. Two thousand had been taken in the defile of the Adige.

It was five o’clock. The Austrian army was almost annihilated. Lusignan was taken. The infantry which had advanced from the mountains, was flying over the rugged declivities. The principal column was pent up on the bank of the river, while the subordinate division of Wukassovich was an idle spectator of the disaster, separated by the Adige from the field of battle. The French general had had several horses killed under him, and had received several slight wounds, but in spite of his constant activity and exposure, he was still ready to follow up his victory immediately. The battle of La Favorita ensued, in which the army of Provera was annihilated. In three days, twenty-three thousand men were captured. Massena’s troops had marched and fought four days and nights, without any considerable intermission. The intrepid general himself, afterwards received the title of Duke of Rivoli. Mantua was at the feet of Bonaparte, and Italy was won.

THE CAMP-FIRE ON THE ALPS

Although Bonaparte had performed amazing, and, in some respects, unparalleled, exploits in Italy, there was a general disposition among both Frenchmen and foreigners to set up inferior commanders as his rivals. Now it was Moreau, then Massena; then Hoche, and then the young Archduke Charles, of Austria. The last mentioned had attained a high reputation by a campaign in which he triumphed over Generals Moreau and Jourdan, but his valor and skill, although great, were overrated, as Bonaparte and Massena soon rendered evident.

The Archduke took command of the Austrian army of Italy, and on the 6th of February, 1797, advanced his head-quarter to Innspruck. During that month, his engineers visited the passes of the Julien and Noric Alps, which it had been designed to fortify. Napoleon, having about fifty-three thousand troops under his command, resolved to astonish his enemy by a rapid and daring march upon the passes of the Alps before they could be fortified. He formed the plan of a campaign, the great object of which was the Austrian capital, Vienna, and the execution was as prompt as the conception was bold. The Tagliamento was passed, and the enemy completely defeated; the passes of the Alps were carried, after a tremendous struggle. Joubert beat the Austrians in the Tyrol, the Archduke’s reputation was reduced to its proper dimensions, and Vienna trembled, having no means of resisting the all-conquering Bonaparte. Tarwis is the loftiest pass of the Noric Alps. It is above the clouds and is generally covered with snow and ice, which give it a desolate and terrible aspect. It overlooks Germany and Dalmatia. At this point the roads leading to Italy and Trieste separate; the road to Italy running west, and that leading to Trieste running south. At this place, Bonaparte fixed his head-quarters, shortly after the pass had been captured by the indomitable Massena. It was the last day of March. The weather was intensely cold, and and the body of troops accompanying the French general suffered severely. Bonaparte and his aids were snugly quartered in the rude chalets, which are the only habitations upon the height of Tarwis. The soldiers were grouped amid a cordon of fires, the fuel for which they had brought from a great distance below, with a vast amount of labor and difficulty. Yet they shivered beside the crackling blaze. It was a wild and startling scene. The night was cloudy—the wind, keen and furious. The red glare of the fires was reflected by walls of ice and blood-stained snow. As the soldiers wrapped themselves in their blankets, crept as close to the fires as they could get, and conversed with a French attempt at gaiety, they were surprised to see their beloved general, accompanied by Berthier and Duroc, come out of a chalet, to examine their condition, and speak a word of cheer.

“A freezing time, men; but it will be hot enough soon,” he remarked to a group of veterans.

“The cold is more terrible than the Austrians, general,” said one of them, with an attempt at a laugh.

“But it cannot conquer the conquerors of Italy,” replied Bonaparte. Thus he went among the brave men who followed his standard, and thus he communicated his own spirit to all with whom he came in contact. After traversing the whole ground occupied by the troops, the French general returned to his quarters to repose.

Beneath a kind of shed in the rear of the chalet, several of the Guides were seated round a cheerful fire, smoking pipes and conversing of the recent actions and their thrilling incidents. Among them were Bessieres and Lemarois. The wall of the chalet, which formed the rear of the shed, served to keep off the fury of the wind, so that this place was comfortable, compared with the position of the soldiers. Besides, the hearts of these veterans had been gladdened with abundance of good eating at the chalet, and satisfaction was evident in their faces. The manly face of Bessieres, wore that expression of calm circumspection, which it never lost in the thickest of battle.

“The passage of the Tagliamento,” said this brave leader, “will take rank with any similar exploit, recorded in history.”

“It must be acknowledged that the archduke had posted his forces in an admirable style,” said young Lemarois. “His artillery covered the level shingle of the river, and his fine cavalry, deployed on the wings, so as to be brought rapidly into service, was an admirable disposition.”

“Yes,” said Bessieres, “but as usual, the character of the manœuvres which defeated the Austrians throws all their dispositions into insignificance. Was there ever a general so fertile of stratagem as Bonaparte? See how quickly he determined upon a plan to diminish the vigilance of the enemy! An immense number of men might have been lost if he had attempted the passage of the river as soon as he reached its banks. But he valued the lives of his soldiers too much, to throw them away, when a simple stratagem could save them. The Austrians naturally supposed that after marching all night, he wanted rest, and when the general ordered us to halt and begin to partake of our soup, they were completely deceived. How the archduke must have opened his eyes, when he saw us get suddenly in motion at noon!”

“The disposition of our forces was so admirable that it made some of our own skilful officers open their eyes,” said Lemarois. “Look at it! Guyeux’s division on the left, and Bernadotte’s on the right, by which arrangement the troops of Italy and the soldiers of the Rhine were brought into a noble rivalry. Then battalions of grenadiers were formed. At the head of each division was placed the light infantry, ready to disperse as sharp-shooters, then the grenadiers who were to charge, and the dragoons who were to support them. Each demi-brigade had its first battalions, deployed in line, and the two others arranged in close column on the wings of the first. The cavalry hovered on the wings. A finer disposition could not have been made.”

“Crossing the river was a glorious scene!” said Bessieres. “The light infantry covered the bank with a cloud of sharp-shooters. Then the grenadiers entered the water. ‘Soldiers of the Rhine!’ exclaimed Bernadotte, ‘the army of Italy has its eyes upon you.’ Each division displayed the utmost bravery in the charge; we can make no distinction between them.”

“No, indeed,” observed a grim-visaged Guide, who sat next to Bessieres. “Our soldiers called the troops of the Rhine the contingent, and treated them with the greatest contempt before the battle. A number of sabre cuts were exchanged on account of this raillery. But the contingent proved themselves worthy of any army at Tagliamento. They drove the Austrians before them like a flock of sheep.”

“All acted in a manner worthy of France,” said Lemarois. “The archduke was routed and the line of the Tagliamento cleared in a remarkably short time.”

“What is the name of that general of cavalry who was captured?” inquired one of the Guides—a burly fellow, with a good-humored cast of countenance.

“I forget his name,” replied Bessieres; “but I cannot forget that he is a brave man, and that he fought with a courage and resolution which put most of his countrymen to shame.

“To be just, however,” observed Lemarois, “there are many gallant officers in the Austrian army. It is not their fault if they have not a Bonaparte to bring victory to their standard. They have a large number of hearts following their flag, as intrepid as old Wurmser. But strange to say, they have never had a first class general.

“That’s about the truth of the matter,” commented the burly Guide.

“By the way, Jacques,” said Bessieres, “it seems to be getting colder as the night advances. Put on a little more of that wood. Its bad enough fuel, though, for it smokes abominably.”

Jacques was the burly Guide previously alluded to. He obeyed the order of his commander.

“The men outside ought to have plenty of provision to console them amid their sufferings on such a night. They will scarcely dare to sleep,” said Lemarois.

“I saw our general out among them a short time ago,” replied Bessieres. “A few sympathetic words from him will do more than any amount of provision.”

“That’s a fact,” said the grim veteran who sat next to the commander of the Guides. “They know that he feels for them, and that he would help them if he could. See there at St. George, an outpost of Mantua, where there was a necessity for constant vigilance, to prevent Provera from surprising us, and relieving Wurmser. The general visiting one of the outposts at night, found a sentinel lying at the foot of a tree, where he had fallen fast asleep from exhaustion. He took the soldier’s musket and walked backwards and forwards on sentry for more than half an hour. Suddenly the soldier started up, and was terrified at seeing General Bonaparte on duty; he expected nothing less than death. But the general spoke kindly to him, told him that after his great fatigues, he wanted sleep; but cautioned him against chosing such a time. That is the way for a general to make heroes out of soldiers. That sentinel would have risked his life at any time to give victory to General Bonaparte.”

“Bonaparte is every inch of a general, a soldier and a man,” said Bessieres.

“Some miserable judges wish to set up this young Archduke Charles as a rival to our general,” said Lemarois. “Why, this battle of Tarwis, in which he had every thing in his favor, proves that he is not by a great deal, up to the measure of Massena.”

“Have you heard the full particulars of the struggle at this pass?” inquired Bessieres. “Battles come so rapidly, that it is difficult to gain a complete knowledge of them.”