Читать книгу Military Career of Napoleon the Great - Montgomery B. Gibbs - Страница 10

From a Drawing by F. Grenier

Bonaparte at the Battle of St. George

A moment later the bravery of the enemy resulted in their nearly overthrowing the French on a point of pre-eminent importance, but Napoleon himself, galloping to the spot, roused by his voice and action the division of Massena who, having marched all night, had laid down to rest in the extreme of weariness. They started up at the commander's voice and the Austrian column was speedily repulsed.

The French artillery was soon in position, while that of the Austrians, as Napoleon had guessed, had not yet come up, and this circumstance decided the fortune of the day. The batteries of the French made havoc of the broken columns; the cavalry made repeated charges; four out of the five divisions were thus broken and utterly routed. The fifth now made its appearance in the rear of the French. It had been sent round to outflank Napoleon and take higher ground in his rear according to the orders of the Austrian general before the action. When Lusignan's division achieved its destined object it did so,—not to complete the misery of a routed, but to swell the prey of a victorious, enemy. Instead of cutting off the retreat of Joubert, Lusignan found himself insulated from Alvinzi and forced to lay down his arms to Bonaparte. Had this movement been made a little sooner it might have turned the fortune of the day: as it was, the French soldiers only exclaimed: "Here come further supplies to our market!" and very soon the Austrians, exposed to a heavy fire from the artillery, were forced to surrender.

"Here was a good plan," said Napoleon, "but these Austrians are not apt to calculate the value of minutes."

Had Lusignan gained the rear of the French an hour earlier, while the contest was still hot in front of the heights of Rivoli, he might have aided in the complete overthrow of Napoleon instead of being defeated on one of the brightest days in the young commander's career.

In the course of the day Bonaparte had remained in the hottest of the fight, which lasted during twelve hours, and had three horses shot under him, and although much fatigued, hardly waited to see Lusignan surrender ere he set off with reinforcements to the Lower Adige to prevent Wurmser from either housing Provera or joining him in the open field and so effect the escape of his own formidable garrison. The flying troops of Alvinzi were left to the care of Massena, Murat and Joubert.

Marching all day and the next night Napoleon reached the vicinity of Mantua late on the 15th. He found the enemy strongly posted and Serrurier's position highly critical. A regiment of Provera's hussars had but a few hours before established themselves in the suburb of St. George. This Austrian corps had been clothed in white cloaks resembling those of a well-known French regiment of hussars, and advancing towards the gate would certainly have been admitted as friends but for the sagacity of an old sergeant, who could not help fancying that the white cloaks had too much of the gloss of novelty about them to have stood the wear and tear of three Bonapartean campaigns. He instantly closed the barriers and warned a drummer who was near him of the danger. These two gave the alarm and the guns of the blockading force were instantly turned upon their pretended friends who were forced to retire.

Napoleon himself passed the night in walking the outposts, so great was his anxiety. At one of these he found a grenadier sentinel asleep from exhaustion and taking his gun, without waking him, performed a sentinel's duty in his place for about half an hour. When the man, starting from his slumbers, perceived with terror and despair the countenance and occupation of his general, he fell on his knees before him. "My friend," said Napoleon mildly, "here is your musket. You had fought hard and marched long and your exhaustion is excusable; but a moment's inattention might at present ruin the whole army. I happened to be awake and have held your post for you. You will be more careful another time!"

Such acts of magnanimity endeared Napoleon to his soldiers, and, while he rarely relaxed in his military discipline, he early acquired the devotion of his men who told and retold anecdotes of his doings in camp and on the battlefield, and as the stories spread from column to column his followers came to regard him with a veneration that few older commanders have been able to instill in their men. Another anecdote is related of Bonaparte, when upon the point of commencing one of his great battles in Italy. As he was disposing his troops in order of attack, a light dragoon stepping from the ranks, requested of the commander a few minutes private conversation to which Napoleon acquiesced, when the soldier thus addressed him: "General, if you will proceed to adopt such and such measures, the enemy must be defeated."

"Wretched man," exclaimed the commander, "hold your tongue; you will surely not betray my secret" at the same time placing his hand before the mouth of the dragoon.

The soldier in question was possessed of an inherent military capacity and appreciated every arrangement necessary to insure victory. The battle terminating in favor of Napoleon, he issued orders that the poor fellow should be conducted to his presence; but all search for him proved fruitless, he was nowhere to be found: a bullet had no doubt terminated his military career.

The next morning there ensued a hot skirmish, recorded as the battle of St. George. The tumult and slaughter were dreadful and Provera with his whole force were compelled to lay down their arms. Wurmser, who had hazarded a sortie from Mantua to join his countrymen, was glad to make his way back again, and retire within the old walls, in consequence of a desperate assault headed by Napoleon in person, who threw himself between Wurmser and Provera and beat them completely one after the other. Provera now found himself cut off hopelessly from Alvinzi and surrounded by the French; he was disheartened and defeated. He and his five thousand men laid down their arms on the 16th of January, and various bodies of the Austrian force scattered over the country followed their example. This latter engagement was called the battle of La Favorita from the name of a country house near which it was fought. The 75th at this battle refused cartridges: "With such enemies as we have before us," said they, "we must only use the bayonet."

The battles of Rivoli and La Favorita had disabled Alvinzi from continuing the campaign. Thus had the magnificent army of Austria ceased to exist in three days.

Such was the prevailing terror of the enemy at this time that in one instance René, a young officer keeping guard of a position with about one hundred and fifty men, suddenly encountered and took prisoners a small body of Austrians. On advancing to reconnoitre, he found himself in front of a body of eighteen hundred more, whom a turn in the road had concealed from his sight. "Lay down your arms!" said the Austrian commandant. René answered with boldness, "Do you lay down your arms! I have destroyed your advance guard;—ground your arms, or no quarter!" The French soldiers joined in the cry, and the whole body of the astonished Austrians absolutely laid down their arms to a party, which they found to their exasperation when too late, was in numbers one twelfth of their own.

Wurmser was now thoroughly disheartened in not receiving relief, and as his provisions were by this time exhausted, found himself at length in dire straits. Napoleon sent him word of the rout and dispersion of the Austrian army and summoned him to surrender. The old soldier proudly replied that "he had provisions for a year," but a few days later he sent his aide-de-camp, Klenau to the headquarters of Serrurier with an offer of capitulation. General Serrurier, as commander of the blockade, received the bearer of Wurmser's message in which he stated that he was "still in a condition to hold out considerably longer, unless honorable terms were granted."

Napoleon, who had been seated in a corner of his tent wrapped in his cloak, now came forward and addressed himself to the Austrian envoy, who had no suspicion in whose presence he had been speaking, and taking his pen, wrote down marginal answers to the conditions proposed by Wurmser. He granted terms more favorable than might have been exacted in the extremity to which the veteran was reduced. "These," said he, "are the conditions to which your general's bravery entitles him if he opens his gates tomorrow. He may have them to-day; a week, a month hence, he shall have no worse: he may hold out to his last morsel of bread. Meantime tell him that General Bonaparte is about to set out for Rome."

The envoy now recognized Napoleon, and on reading the paper perceived that the proposed terms were more liberal than he had dared to hope for; he then owned that only three days' provisions remained in Mantua.

The capitulation was forthwith signed and on the 2d of February, 1797, Wurmser and his garrison of 13,000 men marched out of Mantua: 7,000 were lying in the hospitals. When the aged chief was by the fortunes of war to surrender his sword, he found only Serrurier ready to receive it. Napoleon was unwilling to be a witness to the humiliation of the distinguished veteran, and had left the place before the surrender, thus sparing the conquered veteran the mortification of giving up his sword to so youthful a commander. This delicate generosity on the part of the French general was never forgotten by Wurmser.

The terms of surrender agreed to by Bonaparte were not readily accepted by the French Directory, who urged him to far different conduct. "I have granted the Austrian," he wrote in reply, "such terms as were, in my judgment, due to a brave and honorable foe, and to the dignity of the French nation." The loss of the Austrians at Mantua amounted altogether to not less than 30,000 men, besides innumerable military stores and upwards of 500 brass cannon.

The conquerer sent Augereau to Paris with the sixty captured standards of Austria, and his arrival at the capital was celebrated as a national festival. Thus it was that Napoleon, with a total force at the utmost, of 65,000 men, conquered, in their own country, and under the eye and succoring hand of their own government, five successive armies, amounting, in all, to upwards of 300,000 well-appointed well-provisioned soldiers, under old and experienced commanders of approved courage. Such was the conquest of Lombardy.

Some time later Wurmser sent Napoleon a letter by special messenger acknowledging the generosity and delicacy of conduct of the French commander at Mantua, and at the same time apprising him by his aide-de-camp of a conspiracy to poison him in the dominions of the pope, with whom he was about to wage war.

A few brief engagements with papal troops followed the capitulation of Wurmser, the pope fearing that the conqueror would enter the "Eternal City;" but Napoleon, by a rapid movement, threw his infantry across the river Senio, where the enemy was encamped, and met with but a brief resistance. Shortly afterwards the pope entered into negotiations with the French commander, and the treaty of Tolentino followed on the 13th of February, 1797, conceding to the French one hundred of the finest works of art, several castles and legations, and about two millions of dollars.

Napoleon was now master of all Northern Italy with the exception of the territories of Venice, which announced that it had no desire but to preserve a perfect neutrality.

More than a month had now elapsed since Alvinzi's defeat at Rivoli; in nine days the war with the pope had reached its close; and, having left some garrisons in the town on the Adige to watch the neutrality of Venice, Napoleon hastened to carry the war into the hereditary dominions of the Austrian Emperor. Twenty thousand fresh troops had joined his victorious standard from France, and at the head of perhaps a larger force than he had ever before mustered, he proceeded towards the Tyrol where, according to his information, the main army of Austria, recruited once more to its original strength, was preparing to open a sixth campaign under the orders,—not of Alvinzi, but of a general young like himself, and hitherto eminently successful, the Archduke Charles, who had defeated the courage and skill of Jourdan and Moreau on the Rhine, and was now to be opposed to Napoleon.

The story of this sixth campaign is but a repetition of the five that preceded it. The archduke, a young prince of high talents, and upon whom the last hopes of the Austrian Empire reposed, compelled by the council of Vienna to execute a plan he had the discrimination to condemn, was destined to lead but a short campaign, although he had the best army Austria could enroll. This army once more proceeded to begin operations on a double basis, and Napoleon permitted him to assume the offensive.

On the 9th of March, 1797, the French commander's headquarters were fixed at Bassano, and he proceeded vigorously on his career of conquest. He issued one of his stirring proclamations, in which he told his soldiers that a grand destiny was still reserved for them, and then advanced to attack the archduke. He found the latter posted upon the plains bordering on the banks of the river Tagliamento in front of the rugged Carinthian mountains which guard the passage in that quarter from Italy to Germany. Detaching Massena with a division of cavalry to effect the passage of the Piave where the Austrian division of Lusignan was posted, Napoleon determined to charge the archduke in front. Massena was successful in driving Lusignan before him as far as Belluno, where he, with a rear guard of 500, surrendered, and thus turned the Austrian flank.

On the 16th of March, the two armies headed by Napoleon, and the Archduke Charles in person, were drawn up on opposite sides of the Tagliamento, face to face. Bonaparte then attempted to effect the passage of the river, but after a formal display of his forces, which was met by similar demonstrations on the Austrian side of the river, he suddenly broke up his line, retreated, and took up his bivouac. The archduke concluded that, as the French had been marching all the night before, their leader wished to defer the battle until another day, and in like manner withdrew to his encampment. About two hours later Napoleon rushed with his whole army, who had merely laid down in ranks, upon the margin of the Tagliamento,—no longer adequately guarded,—and had forded the stream ere the Austrian line of battle could be formed. In the passage of the Tagliamento Napoleon was so nearly drowned, by the submersion of his carriage, that he for some moments gave up all thoughts of being rescued.

This affair was the first in which the division of Bernadotte had borne a part. He arrived upon the borders of the Tagliamento at the very moment of the combat: throwing himself into the river he exclaimed to his followers, "Think that you are the Army of the Rhine, and that the Army of Italy is looking on you!"

In the action which followed the troops of the archduke displayed much gallantry, and charged the French repeatedly with the greatest courage, but every effort to dislodge Napoleon failed; at length retreat was deemed necessary, and eight pieces of cannon and some provisions were left behind, the French following in close pursuit.

Adjutant General Kellerman distinguished himself at the head of the French cavalry and received many wounds in executing the manoeuvres that decided the success of the day; he was subsequently charged with carrying the trophies taken from the enemy to France.

The pursuers stormed Gradisca, where they made 6,000 prisoners; and the archduke continuing his retreat, occupied in the course of a few days Trieste, Fiume and every stronghold in Carinthia. In the course of a campaign of twenty days the Austrians fought Bonaparte ten times; but the overthrow on the Tagliamento was never recovered. Their army was melting away like the snows of the Tyrol.

At last the Austrian leader decided to reach Vienna by forced marches, there to gather round him whatever force the loyalty of his nation could muster, and make a last stand beneath the walls of the capital. The archduke expected to reap great advantage from enticing the French army into the heart of Austria, where, divided by many wide provinces and mighty mountains and rivers from France, and with Italy once more in arms behind them, he hoped to cut off their source of supplies and compel them to retreat from a greatly reinforced imperial army.

From the period of the opening of the campaign the archduke had lost nearly 20,000 men made prisoners, so that the Austrians could make no stand except upon the mountains in the neighborhood of the Capital.

Vienna, however, was terror-stricken on hearing that Napoleon who was only sixty leagues distant, had stormed the passes of the Julian Alps. The imperial family—embracing little Marie Louise, then scarcely six years old, afterwards Napoleon's wife—fled with their crown jewels and treasures into Hungary; the middle classes became clamorous for a termination of the six years' war, and the archduke was ordered to avail himself of the first pretense which circumstances might afford for the opening of a negotiation. Napoleon wrote to the archduke suggesting peace: "While brave soldiers carry on war they wish for peace;" he said, "Has not the war already lasted six years? Have we not killed men enough, and inflicted sufficient sufferings on the human race? Europe has laid down the arms she took up against the French Republic. Your nation alone perseveres; yet blood is to flow more copiously than ever. Whatever be the issue, we shall kill some thousands of men on both sides, and after all we must come to an understanding, since all things have an end, not excepting vindictive passions. * * * For my part, general, if the overture I have the honor to make to you should only save the life of a single man, I should feel more proud of the civic crown, I should think I thereby merited, than of all the melancholy glory that the most distinguished military successes can afford."

The archduke replied within two hours after the receipt of the letter and a series of negotiations followed, which with Napoleon's rapid advance on Vienna, finally brought about the provisional treaty of Leoben, signed April 18, 1797. Napoleon, without waiting for full power from the Directory to complete the treaty, took the responsibility upon himself and signed it on the part of France on the 19th of April. The Austrian plenipotentiaries had set down as a primary concession that "the Emperor acknowledged the French Republic."

"Strike that out!" said Napoleon; "the Republic is like the sun that shines by its own light; none but the blind can fail to see it. We are our own masters and shall establish any government we prefer." "If the French people should one day wish to create a monarchy," he afterwards remarked, "the Emperor might object that he had recognized a Republic."

This treaty was followed by a complete surrender on the part of the Venetian Senate which had violated its pledges of neutrality, and a democratic government was formed, provisionally, on the model of France. Venice consented to surrender to the victor large territories on the mainland of Italy; five ships of war, $600,000 in gold and as much more in naval stores, twenty of her best works of art and 500 ancient manuscripts. Napoleon took possession of the city, and the history of the Venetian Republic was ended. In their last agony the Venetian Senate made a vain attempt to bribe Napoleon with a purse of seven millions of francs for more favorable terms, reminding him of the proverbial ingratitude of all popular governments and of the slight attention which the French Directory had hitherto paid to his personal interests. "That is all true enough," he replied, "but I will not place myself in the power of this duke." To a larger tender on the part of Austria he replied: "If greatness or richness is to be mine, it must come from France."

Among the works of art sent by Napoleon to Paris was the celebrated picture of St. Jerome from the Duke of Parma's gallery. The duke, to save this treasure, offered Napoleon two hundred thousand dollars, which the conqueror refused to take, saying: "The sum which he offers us will soon be spent; but the possession of such a masterpiece at Paris will adorn that capital for ages, and give birth to similar exertions of genius."

The fall of Venice gave Napoleon the means of bringing his treaty with Austria to a more satisfactory conclusion than had been indicated in the preliminaries of Leoben. After settling the affairs of Venice and establishing the new Ligurian Republic he took up his residence at the palace of Montibello, near Milan, with Josephine, whom he had not seen since his departure from France a year before. The final settlement with Austria's commissioners was purposely delayed by that Empire, it being the universal belief that the government of France was approaching a new crisis, and Austria hoped from such an event to derive considerable advantage. Napoleon was becoming weary of the protracted negotiations and threats of the Austrian ambassadors. One day in the latter's chamber, he suddenly changed his demeanor. "You refuse to accept our ultimatum," said he, taking in his hands a beautiful vase of porcelain, which stood on the mantelpiece near him. The Austrian bowed. "It is well," said Napoleon, "the truce is broken, war is declared, but mark me,—within three months I shall shatter Austria as I now shatter this brittle affair!" So saying he dashed the fragile piece furiously to the floor, breaking it into a thousand pieces, and left the room. The ambassador followed him, and finding him preparing to march on Vienna, made submissions which induced him to once more resume negotiations, the result of which was the treaty of Campo-Formio, so called from the humble village at which it was signed on the 17th of October, 1797.

Bourrienne relates that while Napoleon was occupied with the organization of Venice, Genoa and Milan, he used to complain of the want of men. "Good God!" said he, "how rare men are! There are eighteen millions in Italy and I have with difficulty found two real ones,—Dandolo and Lelzi." These two actual "men" were immediately employed in important services, and justified his estimation of them.

It was from the palace of Montibello, five leagues from Milan, that Napoleon wrote to the Directory: "From these different points (the islands of the Mediterranean, which he proposed to seize) we can command that sea, keep an eye on the Ottoman Empire, which is crumbling to pieces, and we can render the supremacy of the ocean almost useless to Great Britain. Let us take possession of Egypt, which lies on the road to India, and there we can found one of the mightiest colonies in the world. It is in Egypt we must make war on England."

To perfect the treaty with Austria Napoleon received orders from the French Directory to appear at a congress at Rastadt, all the German powers being summoned to meet there for that purpose. He took an affecting leave of his soldiers, in which he said in closing: "Soldiers, when you talk of the princes you have conquered, of the nations you have set free, and the battles you have fought in two campaigns, say: 'In the next two we shall do still more.'" He then proceeded by way of Switzerland, carrying with him the unbounded love and devotion of one of the finest armies that the world had ever seen.

A person who saw Napoleon at this time described his impressions of him in the following letter, which appeared in one of the Paris journals in December 1797: "With lively interest and extreme attention, I have observed this extraordinary man, who has performed such great deeds, and about whom there is something which seems to indicate that his career is not yet closed. I found him very like his portraits—little, thin, pale, with an air of fatigue, but not of ill-health, as has been reported of him. He appears to me to listen with more abstraction than interest, and that he was more occupied with what he was thinking of than with what was said to him. There is a great intelligence in his countenance, along with which may be marked an air of habitual meditation which reveals nothing of what is passing within. In that thinking head, in that bold mind, it is impossible not to believe that some daring designs are engendering which will have their influence on the destinies of Europe!"

"My extreme youth when I took command of the Army of Italy," Napoleon remarked afterwards, "made it necessary for me to evince great reserve of manners and the utmost severity of morals. This was indispensable to enable me to sustain authority over men so greatly superior in age and experience. I pursued a line of conduct in the highest degree irreproachable and exemplary. In spotless morality I was a Cato and must have appeared such to all. My supremacy could be retained only by proving myself a better man than any other man in the army. Had I yielded to human weakness I should have lost my power."

At the first interview between Napoleon and the veteran generals whom he was to command, Rampon undertook to give the young commander some advice. Napoleon who was impatient of advice, exclaimed: "Gentlemen, the art of war is in its infancy. The time has passed in which enemies are mutually to appoint the place of combat, advance hat in hand and say: 'Gentlemen will you have the goodness to fire!' We must cut the enemy to pieces, precipitate ourselves like a torrent upon their battalions and grind them to powder. Experienced generals conduct the troops opposed to us. So much the better! Their experience will not avail them against me. Mark my words, they will soon burn their books on tactics and know not what to do."

Arriving at Rastadt Napoleon found that the multiplicity of details to be arranged was likely to require a long stay, and as his personal relations with the Directory were of a doubtful kind, he abandoned the conduct of the diplomatic business to his colleagues and reached Paris after a triumphal march, on the 20th of November, 1797. During his absence he had been the salvation of France, and his arrival created a great sensation in the capital. He was hailed with the most rapturous applause by the people, the streets through which he was expected to pass were thronged, and wherever he was seen the air was filled with shouts of, "Long live the General of the Army of Italy!"

From a Drawing by Ch. Chasselat

Bonaparte at the Siege of Mantua