‘Then it’s just as well that our Austrian and Italian friends are keeping us occupied.’ Napoleon waved Berthier towards the small writing desk in the corner. ‘I’ll send two letters. One to Paris, and one to Wurmser.’
‘General Wurmser?’
Napoleon nodded. ‘If we can’t depend on our own government to make peace then let’s see if we can make the enemy see sense. I’ll ask them for terms for the surrender of Mantua and an armistice.’
‘Do you really think they will accept, sir?’
‘I don’t know. All I can do is put it to them while we wait for a reply from Paris.We’ll just have to wait and see if anyone comes to their senses.’
There was no response from the Austrians and Napoleon could understand why. Despite having been defeated in the recent campaign they could draw on more men for the next attempt. At the same time their diplomacy with the Italian states hostile to France was bearing fruit. The King of Naples marched north at the head of his army to join Wurmser. Napoleon immediately sent a message to the King warning him that Naples would share the fate of Pavia if he advanced any further north than Rome, and for a while at least the Neapolitans halted, no doubt waiting to see how the French fared against the Austrian army, which was preparing to launch yet another attack. From the Directory came mere words of encouragement and a plea for Napoleon to retain his command.
Encouragement did not win battles, he fumed, and he dispatched another letter promising the Directory to squeeze further money out of the Italians, if he was sent thirty thousand more men. Otherwise, Napoleon might not be able to defeat the next Austrian army sent against him.Then, late in October, came the news he was dreading. A new Austrian commander had been appointed, General Alvinzi, and he had already advanced as far as the Piave river.While Napoleon gathered his men to counter the latest attack the Austrians drove into the first line of defence, at Corona, and forced Masséna to retreat.As early winter set in with cold rain and bitter winds the French troops continued to give ground, pressed by the Austrian vanguard.
Outnumbered almost two to one Napoleon finally saw a slim chance of snatching back the initiative in November.
‘The enemy think they have us beaten,’ he told his senior commanders in his headquarters tent. Overhead rain drummed steadily on the canvas, forcing him to raise his voice to ensure that everyone heard his words and no misunderstandings would occur. ‘So, we will indulge them.Tomorrow we will continue the retreat towards Verona. As soon as night falls we will march back, round their advance units, and strike them in the rear, at Villanova. If we can destroy their baggage train and supplies Alvinzi will be forced to abandon his attack on Verona. I’ll be taking Masséna’s and Augereau’s divisions. Masséna will cross the Adige near Ronco, then march north to attack the enemy flank. Meanwhile the main attack will come from Augereau’s division.’
‘Where will I cross the river?’ General Augereau asked.
Napoleon turned to the map frame that had been erected at the head of the table. He ran his finger down the line of the river until it came to a bridge over the Alpone - a tributary of the Adige.
‘Here, at Arcola.’ Napoleon turned to Augereau. ‘We have to secure the crossing or there will be no chance of surprising the Austrians. Arcola is the key. If we win the coming battle, gentlemen, then we win the campaign. If we lose, then the Army of Italy will be smashed and scattered and our men will be at the mercy of every Italian peasant with a grievance. It all depends on this battle.’ He turned back to the map. ‘It all depends on the crossing at Arcola.’
Chapter 21
The Bridge at Arcola
The crackle of muskets sounded flat through the dawn mist that had risen from the marshy land beside the Alpone river. Napoleon swore under his breath and urged his horse forward, breaking into a gallop as he passed beside the long narrow column of infantry and cannon marching down the track towards the crossing. Behind him rode a small group of staff officers: Major Muiron, Captain Marmont and Napoleon’s brother Louis. Napoleon had given strict orders that there would be no firing until the first units had crossed the river at Arcola. The noise intensified as he approached. It could mean only one thing.The Austrians had recognised the threat and had posted some men at Arcola to guard the crossing. The question was, how many?
Up ahead, where the track rose a little above the surrounding landscape, the mist had thinned and Napoleon could see that the head of the column had halted and the leading units were deploying to either side of the track. As he reached General Augereau and his staff, Napoleon reined in.
‘What’s happening?’ he snapped at Augereau.
‘My skirmishers ran into some enemy outposts, sir,’ Augereau explained, and then grinned. ‘There was a brief exchange of fire and they ran like rabbits.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘The enemy?’
‘Your skirmishers!’
Augereau frowned. ‘They’ve taken up a position in a redoubt they captured, while they wait for the main body to come up.’
‘What the hell are they doing there?’ Napoleon shouted. ‘Get them moving. At once! Before the Austrians decide to make a stand on the far side.You keep after them,Augereau, do you hear? Drive them across the river. Don’t stop for anything and don’t let the enemy rest. If word gets back that the main weight of our attack is here then they’ll have the chance to turn and meet us. Get your men forward, Augereau, now!’
‘Yes, sir.’ Augereau saluted and turned to bellow an order for his leading grenadier companies to prepare to advance on the crossing.While the attack column was forming up Napoleon saw a mill to one side of the track and rode over to it. He dismounted and entered the building. Even though there were still sacks of grain lining the walls the place was deserted, its owner having fled at the first sight of the French soldiers. There was a ladder leading up to the flour storage floor and, stuffing his telescope in a pocket, Napoleon clambered up. Like many of the older buildings in the area the mill had a fortified tower built on to the corner, and Napoleon pushed open the heavy studded door and climbed the steps up to the crenellated observation platform. There was a fine view of the ground towards Arcola. As the morning light strengthened and the first rays of the sun warmed the air, the mist had started to lift, enough to reveal an expanse of flat ground that narrowed as it reached the bridge. A short distance from the mill he could see the fascines of the small fortification that Augereau’s skirmishers had taken. Just visible amid the threads of mist several figures in white uniforms were running across the bridge. Behind them chased the French skirmishers, eagerly closing for the kill. Then, when they were halfway across the bridge, scores of muzzle flashes flickered on the far side of the river and several of the skirmishers fell.The rest hesitated, until more of them here struck down by enemy fire, and then they melted back to the near bank.
Napoleon felt his heart sink as he saw more Austrian troops on the far bank, in amongst the buildings of the village. He snapped out the brass tube of the telescope and squinted to make out the enemy force in more detail. The houses and low walls closest to the bridge were lined with soldiers. Hundreds of them. Worse still, he could make out two artillery pieces, either side of the bridge, trained on the crossing and no doubt loaded with grapeshot. Further examination revealed a still more worrying factor.The far bank of the river bowed slightly around the bridge so that the defenders would be able to pour fire on to it from either flank as well as from the end. Below the bridge the surface of the river was just visible, glassy and grey, between stretches of reeds and mud on either bank.
‘Shit,’ Napoleon muttered, and snapped his telescope shut before climbing down to rejoin Augereau as the latter was giving orders to one of his officers. Napoleon recognised Colonel Lannes.