‘What have you said to him, Junot?’
‘As we were walking up to headquarters he asked me if I thought you would accept. I said nothing.’
‘You didn’t speak to him?’
‘Not a word.’ Junot shrugged. ‘I thought it was presumptuous of him even to ask.’
‘And so it was!’ Napoleon laughed. ‘Well then, Colli wants to break off the fighting, does he?’
‘It’s not difficult to see why, sir. We’ve been snapping at their heels since we turned on them after Montenotte.They’re hungry and exhausted and need a breathing space. Same as our men. We could use the time to regroup.’
‘Yes, but they don’t know that.’ Napoleon looked up sharply. ‘This colonel, was he blindfolded as he passed through our lines?’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘Very well then, you’d better tell him that I reject the offer.’
Junot looked surprised, and hesitated a moment before he spoke. ‘May I ask why, sir?’
‘Junot, the fact that they have approached us for an armistice means they must think they have more to gain from it than we do. Turin is two days’ march away. Why give them a chance to fortify it? Let’s push on, and then offer them an armistice on our terms. Now, go and tell him.’
Over the next two days the French threw themselves after the retreating Piedmontese, driving them back from one village to the next and cutting them off from the Austrian army. Now it was Napoleon’s turn to offer an armistice. General Colli reluctantly conceded the key fortress towns of Cuneo, Ceva and Tortona and signed the documents that Junot had drawn up.
The same night, Napoleon wrote a quick note to Josephine and gave it to Colonel Murat to take to Paris along with the provisional terms of the armistice for the Directors to consider. Then he sat down to compose the following morning’s order of the day. Napoleon paused to take in the speed at which the campaign had moved. He had never felt such a sense of achievement and he was proud of his men. Yet, even now, he looked ahead. He dipped his pen into the inkwell and began to write.
Soldiers! In fifteen days you have taken twenty-one colours and fifty-five pieces of artillery, seized several fortresses and the richest lands of Piedmont. You have captured fifteen thousand prisoners and inflicted more than ten thousand casualties. The success I promised you has been fulfilled, yet this is only the beginning . . .
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.’