‘No!’ a voice cried out. ‘We will fight!’
‘Fight!’ another shouted. ‘Fight for General Bonaparte!’
Others picked up the mood and soon they were all chanting his name. Napoleon indulged them for a moment and then turned to Junot and smiled. ‘Now we have an army!’
The date set for the opening of the campaign was 15 April and in the days leading up to the start of the offensive Napoleon and his staff worked every possible hour to remedy the army’s problems. Local banks were forced to make loans to the army so that the men could be paid and supplies purchased. The complaints of the soldiers were investigated and corrupt and incompetent officers were relieved of their commands or sent far to the rear on garrison duty, or even dismissed from the service. The supply contractors were threatened with the loss of their army business if the men were not properly fed. Napoleon visited as many of the units as he could in the early days of April to make rousing speeches to the men, and he set up an army newspaper to provide news from home as well as morale-boosting accounts of the progress of the war with Austria. At the end of every day he sat down and wrote a letter to Josephine, telling her of his exhausting duties, and of the deep love and fiery passion for her that made every day of separation a torture. He asked her, with increasing frustration, to write and let him know when she would come and join him.
The Army of Italy moved forward towards Savona to mass in readiness for the campaign. Napoleon was in a fine mood; his time had come and soon his name would be known the length and breadth of Europe.The only lingering worry was the lack of precise intelligence about the main body of the Austrian army under General Beaulieu. He resolved to send Murat out with some light cavalry first thing in the morning to scout ahead and find the enemy. Then, eyes and limbs aching from his exertions, Napoleon climbed into his bed and fell asleep.
‘Sir!’ a voice called out, waking him. Napoleon rose stiffly and blinked his eyes. Major Junot was standing at the foot of the bed, still in his nightshirt. Behind him the first grey light of dawn was creeping across the roofs of Savona.
‘Junot, what the devil’s going on?’
‘It’s the Austrians.They’ve attacked one of Masséna’s brigades.’
‘Where?’ Napoleon threw back the bedclothes and climbed out of bed. ‘In what strength?’
‘Near Voltri. The report from Colonel Cervoni is that his brigade is holding them back but the enemy is arriving in greater numbers all the time. He says he will be forced to fall back before long.’
‘Voltri, eh?’ Napoleon closed his eyes and recalled the details of the map of the coastal area towards Genoa.Voltri was a port a short distance from Genoa where Masséna’s division was moving into position to attack. At once he grasped the danger. He opened his eyes and fixed his stare on Junot.
‘Get Berthier and the others in my office. Then send an alert to all divisional and brigade commanders. I want the army ready to march at once. Tell them the campaign begins today. Today, understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Junot saluted and left the room as Napoleon reached for his clothes.
When he entered his office, a staff sergeant was already laying out a map, and Napoleon ordered him to find some coffee and bread. Leaning over the map he found Voltri at once and nodded as he saw the disposition of his troops that Berthier had marked in the night before. The Austrians were attempting to drive towards the coast to cut Masséna off from the rest of the army. If they succeeded, the campaign was over before it had begun. Just as Napoleon’s career would be. On the other hand, he considered, unless the Austrians had changed their tactics the attack would proceed at a slow pace. Slow enough for Napoleon to turn the situation to his advantage.
Chapter 16
By the time the last of his senior staff officers had arrived Napoleon had formed his plan and was impatient to give the orders.
‘I assume you’ve all the heard the news. It seems that the Austrians have got more balls than we thought.’
The officers chuckled and Napoleon raised a hand to quieten them.
‘We have been saved the job of finding the Austrians, and it’s time to take the battle to them. Cervoni’s brigade is here.’ He tapped his finger on the map. ‘He’s holding his position at the moment, and buying us time to move into the attack. General La Harpe is the closest to the Austrians’ line of advance. Berthier, you will order him to attack at once.The Austrians will be forced to stop and turn to face the threat, which will free Masséna to march on their flank and rear.The rest of the army will be given orders to move up in support. Gentlemen, if we act swiftly, the Army of Italy will have its first victory of the campaign, courtesy of the Austrians. See to it. I’m riding ahead to join Cervoni. Send any messages to me there.’
As soon as the officers had been dismissed Napoleon called for a horse to be readied. Taking a handful of dragoons with him, he galloped down the coast road towards Voltri. He soon caught up with the rear elements of Masséna’s division quick-marching to join their commander and strike at the Austrians. Some of the men cheered as he rode past and Napoleon raised his hat in acknowledgement. Then, four miles short of Voltri, he came to the junction that led up into the hills where Cervoni’s brigade was fighting the Austrian vanguard. Already he could hear the faint boom of cannon and the crackle of musket fire echoing from the hills. Napoleon kicked his heels in, urging his mount up the track, and the dragoons struggled to keep up with their general.
As the small party of horsemen came up on to the ridge, they had a clear view down the far slope which dropped steeply towards a mountain stream crossed by a narrow stone bridge. Cervoni’s men had formed up in solid ranks to contest the crossing. Ahead of them, clustered amongst rock outcroppings, were small parties of light infantry, keeping up a steady fire on the Austrians on the far side of the stream. Beyond the bridge, a battalion of the white-uniformed enemy stood in neatly dressed ranks, busily loading their weapons and then bringing them up to fire in company volleys at the French skirmishers as if they were on a parade ground. Each time the Austrian muskets rose to the shoulder the French ducked down, and nearly every shot rattled harmlessly off the rocks or whistled overhead. By contrast, the irregular fire of the skirmishers was whittling down the Austrians. Behind them a battery of artillery was unlimbering on a patch of even ground close to the stream, and beyond stood a long column of infantry waiting for the order to force their way across the bridge.
Colonel Cervoni had spotted his commander and trotted his horse up to Napoleon. He saluted. ‘Good morning, sir.’
Napoleon nodded. ‘Better than we could have hoped for. Must be three or four thousand men over there. I think you’ve managed to find the Austrian army for me, Cervoni. What’s the situation?’
Cervoni turned to look down the slope as he stroked his stubbled chin. ‘We’ve been falling back by battalions. Each time they’ve deployed just like that, as if they were following a manual and had all the time in the world. Our skirmishers have been shooting them up until their guns open fire, then withdrawing.’
‘What are your losses?’
‘No more than fifty men so far. A fraction of what they’ve lost, sir.’