Chapter 17
‘When will those damned Austrians turn and fight us!’ Napoleon fumed, glaring at his senior officers by the light of the lanterns inside his tent. ‘Every time we advance General Beaulieu falls back behind another tributary of the Po. We need to beat him decisively, yet all he offers us is one rearguard action after another.’
Masséna stretched his shoulders and replied, ‘Then we’ll just have to destroy them one rearguard at a time, sir.’
‘That is not remotely funny, Masséna,’ Napoleon snapped. ‘They are falling back on their lines of communication, while we are extending ours.They grow stronger all the time and our men are tired and many of our battalions are well under strength.Time is on their side. A few more fights like today’s effort and we will be ripe for an Austrian counter-attack.’
He was silent for a moment, reflecting on the bloody crossing of the River Adda at Lodi that had taken most of the day. Several times the grenadiers had advanced towards the bridge along a narrow causeway under murderous fire from the far bank and it was not until after six in the evening that his men had broken through and the French army had started to cross in strength.The pursuit of the Austrians had continued until darkness fell, and only then had the French made camp for the night. By the time the headquarters tents had been set up it was past midnight and the officers around Napoleon were bleary-eyed and exhausted. Like their men, he reflected. Well, it was too bad. The impetus had to be maintained to force the Austrians to turn and fight, and if they didn’t then they must be chased right out of Italy, leaving only the massive fortress at Mantua to deal with. That could be starved into submission by a covering force while Napoleon led the rest of the army into the Tyrol. The Austrians would then be caught between the Army of Italy and the Army of the Rhine, which even now should be pushing towards Austria on the far side of the Alps, according to the Directory’s grand strategy.
He rubbed his eyes and blinked, fighting back his desire for sleep. Then he pulled a map towards him and pointed out the next river barrier.
‘If things run true to form, Beaulieu will fall back behind the Oglio. If we can force him back from that line, then we can cut off Mantua.’
Junot cleared his throat. ‘Is that wise, sir? Shouldn’t we consolidate our gains first? Now that Beaulieu has retreated, Milan must fall to us. Our troops need to rest. And, as you pointed out, thanks to the length of our supply lines we’re running out of powder and rations. But most of all we need more men, sir.’
‘He’s right,’ Serurier added. ‘We’ve been promised reinforcements for months. So far I’ve not had one man to replace my losses. Sir, you said that there would be more men.’
‘I’ve written to the Directory to request reinforcements on more occasions than I care to remember,’ Napoleon said wearily. ‘You would think that after all we have achieved they would give us the tools to win further victories. But it seems that the Directory has decided that all available men will be sent to the Army of the Rhine.’
‘That’s not quite what I’ve heard,’ Masséna growled. ‘We’ve been sent reinforcements, but that bastard Kellermann is creaming them off for the Army of the Alps as they march through his area of operations.’
‘That is a rumour,’ Napoleon said firmly. ‘Those men must have been sent to him, not us.’
‘You really think so, sir?’ Masséna smiled bitterly.
‘I know it. Kellermann is a man of honour. And he’s intelligent enough to realise that we need reinforcements far more than he does.’
‘Then why is he being reinforced and not us?’ Masséna asked.
‘Politics, that’s why.’ Junot sneered. ‘This was supposed to be a sideshow to the main thrust across the Rhine.’ He turned towards Napoleon. ‘Sir, that’s why they picked you for this command. After the victory over the royalists you became an embarrassment to the politicians.They needed you out of Paris, and the Army of Italy should have been the graveyard of your ambitions. The trouble is you keep winning battles and their plans have misfired. That is why we receive no help from them.’
Napoleon thought for a moment. It could be true. But surely not even a venal politician would put his own interests above the interests of his country? He had met and mingled with the Directors, and had sensed the ideals that had drawn them to the revolution and the need to build a new France. But it seemed that time had eroded those aspirations. He frowned. When the war was over, then maybe he would return to Paris and do what he could to force idealism back into public affairs. That was the future, he reminded himself. For the present he had more pressing problems to deal with. He looked at Junot.
‘It is time we began to show the government why they should be reinforcing and resupplying us.’
‘Sir?’
‘What is it that our politicians want above all else, right now?’
‘To beat the enemy and end the war,’ Junot replied.
Napoleon shook his head. ‘You are thinking too much like a soldier.’
Masséna chuckled. ‘They want money. The treasury is empty, and gold and silver are the sinews of war. Not to mention politics.’
Napoleon nodded and laughed. ‘And you, my dear Masséna, are thinking too much like a politician.’
Massena shrugged. ‘No man is perfect, General.’
‘Money.’ Napoleon slapped his hand down on the table. ‘Money is what they want and that is what we shall give them. Once it starts to flow into their coffers then we shall receive what we need. Junot, first thing in the morning, I want you to send messages to all our agents in the north of Italy.They are to assess the fortunes of every city and town. They are to try to find out how much is held in coin and how much might be raised from loans. We shall, of course, negotiate the most favourable terms when the time comes. I’ve never known a sword at the throat of a banker fail to produce fair repayment terms.’
The officers laughed, warming to the idea, and Napoleon continued.‘Send the messages in code and have them report back by the end of May.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Meanwhile, we’ll take Milan and give the men a brief rest. The Austrians aren’t going anywhere for now. We’ll march on them again once the men are fed and in good spirits. That’s enough business for tonight. Berthier will send you your orders at first light. Good night, gentlemen.’
They rose from their chairs and filed out of the room. Napoleon sat and stared at the map. The Austrians had retreated yet again, but they were running out of space to retreat into. Some time, in the coming weeks or months, there would be a reckoning. When it came, it was vital that the Army of Italy was strong enough to face a hard battle and win.
There was a knock on the door frame and Napoleon looked up to see Berthier holding a waterproofed document bag.
‘Dispatches and papers from Paris, sir. Will you read them now, or wait until morning?’
‘Now, please, Berthier.’
‘Yes, sir.’ His chief of staff crossed to the table and unfastened the straps. Inside was a carefully wrapped bundle of newspapers, a sealed packet from the War Office and a letter addressed to him in Josephine’s hand. Napoleon warmed at the sight and he instinctively picked up the letter and ran his fingers gently over the writing. He smiled. It was typical of her to use her contacts to get a letter included in the official dispatch bag. For a moment he lingered over the letter, then set it aside and reached for the packet and broke the seal.
There were two documents inside, one from Carnot at the War Office and the other from Barras on behalf of the Directory. He read Carnot’s letter first. The War Office was unable to send the requested reinforcements to the Army of Italy for the present, but assured General Bonaparte that he would be given priority the instant reinforcements were no longer needed on the Rhine. The letter concluded with an intelligence report revealing that Beaulieu was shortly to be joined by fifteen thousand fresh troops. Napoleon felt a cold rage flow through his veins. With fifteen thousand fresh men, he himself could sweep the enemy from Italy and chase them all the way back across the Tyrol to Vienna. He wondered, idly, who constituted the greater danger to his army. The Austrian forces, or the politicians back in Paris?