The Generals

Chapter 19

As soon as he reached the army headquarters in the bishop’s mansion in Brescia Napoleon dictated a letter for circulation to every town and city lying between his army and the border with France. There were to be no more uprisings. If any French soldiers were killed then the nearest town or village would be burned to the ground and any men caught under arms would be shot. Bourrienne took down his words in silence, and once his commander had finished he rose from his seat and left the room with a curt bow. Napoleon propped his head on his hands and stared at the far wall as the punitive attack on Pavia came back to him.The execution of civilians was not a new refinement, merely an inevitable feature of war. Bourrienne’s distaste for the measures that Napoleon had felt forced to carry out in Pavia was misplaced, Napoleon reassured himself.

He raised his head and pulled over a fresh sheet of paper. He opened an inkwell, dipped his pen and wrote the opening words of a new letter, words that he had written a hundred times before, but which still gave him a small thrill when he saw them in his own hand on the page.

Dear Josephine.

He still marvelled that she had consented to be his wife, and the familiar longing to lie in her arms once again fired the passion in his veins. He readied his pen, wanting to burst into the flow of impassioned words that poured from him in a torrent whenever he wrote to Josephine. But tonight the words did not come. His mind was too weary and too occupied with the demands made upon him as commander of the Army of Italy. Napoleon sat for a moment, pen poised, wanting to unburden himself of all the concerns that weighed down on him. The Directory’s criminal neglect of his soldiers; uniforms in tatters, boots worn to shreds and bellies frequently empty, and the men were still owed several months’ pay. Then there was the need to close with the Austrian army and destroy them, but Napoleon was constantly frustrated by the enemy’s refusal to stand and fight. And Napoleon still had to deal with the prospect of dividing his army with Kellermann. If Barras and the other Directors stood by their decision then Napoleon would be removed from the public’s gaze. The Army of Italy would certainly lose the initiative in the war against Austria as the two generals struggled to co-ordinate their separate, weaker forces against an enemy who already outnumbered them even before a wave of fresh troops was added to its strength. He desperately wanted to confide all this to Josephine, and yet he dared not. All of his soldier’s troubles would surely seem arcane and dull to someone who moved in the most exclusive circles in Paris. He feared she would find him boring.The only words which he felt confident of pleasing her with were words of love.

Josephine.

She was truly the first woman he had loved. To be sure, there had been women before her.Those who had satisfied his physical yearnings, or had been objects for his youthful veneration when, like all young men, he had desperately needed to practise his love, and be loved in turn by someone whose affection was not bound to him by family ties.With Josephine he had learned to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh without shame or embarrassment. So it had been easy to surrender to the flood of feelings: passion, loneliness, hope, anticipation and sometimes even jealousy when he received a rare letter from her in which she expressed even the slightest affection for another man. And from such feelings the words formed readily, written down as fast as his pen could manage, raw and intense.

But tonight he felt too tired, too drained, and the usual phrases of an ardent lover seemed stale and insufficient. It was no longer enough to commit his emotions to paper. He needed Josephine here and now. Dipping his pen in the inkwell, Napoleon wrote a terse note, asking why he had not heard from her for several days. If she truly loved him, he wrote, then she would do all in her power to be at his side without delay, and he expected that of her. He signed it with a formal expression of affection and then folded the paper and sealed it, tossing it on to the other correspondence to be sent to Paris in the morning.

Napoleon rose early the next day to read the latest intelligence reports. The Austrians had established a new line of defence stretching southwards from Lake Garda to the fortress town of Mantua. As ever, the key to driving the Austrians from Italy was taking Mantua, but to do that the fortress had to be cut off from the rest of the Austrian army. At the morning conference Napoleon outlined his plan.

‘We must take Mantua before the end of the year. Once we have Mantua, Austria is finished this side of the Alps,’ he began. ‘Accordingly, we will have to force a crossing of the Mincio river and drive Beaulieu north, away from Mantua, which will be besieged by Serurier.’

Berthier raised his eyebrows.

‘Do you object to my plan, Berthier?’ Napoleon asked curtly.

‘No, General, it’s sound enough, provided we can get across the river. Where do you intend to cross?’

‘At Valeggio.’

‘But that’s in the centre of Beaulieu’s line. He’ll be able to strike at us from either flank, even if we do manage to force a crossing.’>

‘That’s why we must stretch his lines of defence to breaking point,’ Napoleon smiled. ‘Augereau is to take his division up the west shore of Lake Garda. He’s to make a great show of it so that Beaulieu is fully aware of his movements. Beaulieu will recognise the threat to his supply lines and will be forced to shift his weight north to counter the threat. As soon as he does that we will cross the river.’

‘And what if he doesn’t take the bait, sir?’ asked Berthier.

‘Then Augereau’s division will march east and cut Beaulieu’s supply lines. Either way he has to react and move forces to his right flank. Then we cross the Mincio.’

‘That still leaves Mantua, sir,’ Junot pointed out. ‘We don’t have any siege artillery with the army. That means we will have to starve them out.’

‘More than likely,’ Napoleon conceded. ‘But if the Directory won’t provide us with siege guns we’ll have to find some from another source. I gather that the armies of the papal states have a more than adequate supply of heavy guns. I am certain that His Holiness will be happy to part with them, and provide us with a decent settlement, in exchange for peace with France.’

‘Blackmail,’ Berthier muttered. ‘How can we be sure it will work? What if the Pope decides to go to war? And if the King of Naples sides with him then we’ll be caught between them and the Austrians. Not a good position to be in, sir.’

‘No more dangerous than being caught between an old man and a weakling,’ Napoleon replied. ‘Trust me. The Pope is a realist. Even with God at his side he knows that victory generally goes to the bigger battalions. He will give us what we want.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’

‘Then God have mercy on him, because I won’t.’

Once the Army of Italy was in position between the Austrian army and the fortress at Mantua Napoleon turned his attention to the latter as Italy basked in the hot summer sunshine. As the French troops laid siege to the fortress Napoleon and his staff observed the proceedings from the top of a watchtower on a Venetian banker’s mansion. It was a sultry day and the climb up the narrow flight of steps had left them hot and sweating under their uniforms. From the decorative battlements of the tower the officers could see the outer works of Mantua and examine the defences through their telescopes. Napoleon watched the French advance guard marching along one of the dykes that radiated from the fortress town. Mantua had been constructed in the middle of three lakes on its northern side.To the south it was protected by a great sprawl of marshes. The five dykes were the only means of approach and these were protected by great bastions. Behind their ditches and ramparts hundreds of cannon commanded the roads that ran along the dykes.

Napoleon lowered his telescope and snapped it shut.

‘Not an easy task, I think.’ He turned round, eyes searching out General Serurier. ‘This job is for you, Serurier. There’s no chance of taking the place by a direct assault. Not until the defences are battered down. And that can’t happen until we secure the siege artillery.Your orders are to contain the Austrians. Nothing more. At least not until I can reinforce you. Are you clear on that?’

Serurier nodded. ‘Yes, General. When might I expect to have the guns and the men?’

‘Now that we have come to terms with the Pope, they will be on their way to us any day.’

Napoleon smiled at the thought. His representative, Saliceti, had made a fine job of the negotiations. All political prisoners, many of whom sympathised with the French republic, were to be released. The ports of the papal states were to be closed to the enemies of France and the Pope had been persuaded to offer France a settlement of over fifteen million francs in coin, as well as another five million in supplies. When news of the terms reached Paris the Directors would surely abandon their foolhardy notion of dividing the command of the Army of Italy, Napoleon reflected cynically. Money did not just talk, it positively shouted, and would be far more eloquent and forceful an advocate for Napoleon’s cause than any argument he might raise by himself.

Of more immediate importance, the papal armies had given up enough heavy guns to provide a siege train with more than sufficient firepower to flatten the defences of Mantua. Even now, Junot was in Rome organising the drivers and draught animals necessary to haul the guns north to Mantua. When they were in position it should only be a matter of time before the French army pounded their way in, or the Austrian garrison was starved into surrender.

‘Serurier, you have your orders. Establish your lines carefully. Let no one enter or leave Mantua.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Gentlemen, once Mantua falls, we will turn our full strength against the Austrians and drive them back across the Alps. You may pass that on to every officer and man in the army.Tell them their general gives his word that all their efforts will be rewarded before the year is out.’

The staff began to disperse, some continuing to survey the defences whilst others made for the staircase, passing a sergeant who had climbed the winding stairs, and stood aside deferentially as the officers squeezed past him. He strode across to Napoleon, hot and puffing.

‘Message for you, sir. From Milan.’

Napoleon took the letter and broke the seal. General Despinois was pleased to inform the commander of the Army of Italy that the Austrian garrison in the citadel had finally surrendered. French troops now commanded the guns that governed the city of Milan.There was no question of any further uprising by the Milanese. Napoleon nodded with satisfaction before his eyes skimmed down to the last, brief, paragraph.

I am pleased to inform you that your wife, her children and her entourage arrived in Milan the day of the surrender. They have been found good accommodation and Madame Bonaparte begs me to tell you that her heart will break unless you come to her in Milan without delay.

Napoleon read the words again, and again, and each time it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. At last he lowered the note and turned to Berthier, eyes glittering with excitement.

‘Have my horse and escort readied. I ride to Milan at once!’