CHAPTER LI. THE ARMY OF THE RESERVES
The First Consul had reached the point he desired. The Companions ofJehu were destroyed and the Vendee was pacificated.
When demanding peace from England he had hoped for war. He understoodvery well that, born of war, he could exist only by war. He seemed toforesee that a poet would arise and call him "The Giant of War."
But war--what war? Where should he wage it? An article of theconstitution of the year VIII. forbade the First Consul to command thearmies in person, or to leave France.
In all constitutions there is inevitably some absurd provision. Happythe constitutions that have but one! The First Consul found a means toevade this particular absurdity.
He established a camp at Dijon. The army which occupied this camp wascalled the Army of the Reserves. The force withdrawn from Brittany andthe Vendee, some thirty thousand men in all, formed the nucleus ofthis army. Twenty thousand conscripts were incorporated in it; GeneralBerthier was appointed commander-in-chief. The plan which Bonaparteexplained to Roland in his study one day was still working in his mind.He expected to recover Italy by a single battle, but that battle must bea great victory.
Moreau, as a reward for his co-operation on the 18th Brumaire, receivedthe command he had so much desired. He was made commander-in-chief ofthe Army of the Rhine, with eighty thousand men under him. Augereau,with twenty-five thousand more, was on the Dutch frontier. And Massena,commanding the Army of Italy, had withdrawn to the country about Genoa,where he was tenaciously maintaining himself against the land forces ofthe Austrian General Ott, and the British fleet under Admiral Keith.
While the latter movements were taking place in Italy, Moreau hadassumed the offensive on the Rhine, and defeated the enemy at Stockachand Moeskirch. A single victory was to furnish an excuse to put the Armyof Reserves under waiting orders. Two victories would leave no doubtas to the necessity of co-operation. Only, how was this army to betransported to Italy?
Bonaparte's first thought was to march up the Valais and to cross theSimplon. He would thus turn Piedmont and enter Milan. But the operationwas a long one, and must be done overtly. Bonaparte renounced it. Hisplan was to surprise the Austrians and to appear with his whole army onthe plains of Piedmont before it was even suspected that he hadcrossed the Alps. He therefore decided to make the passage of theGreat Saint-Bernard. It was for this purpose that he had sent the fiftythousand francs, seized by the Companions of Jehu, to the monks whosemonastery crowns that mountain. Another fifty thousand had been sentsince, which had reached their destination safely. By the help of thismoney the monastery was to be amply provisioned for an army of fiftythousand men halting there for a day.
Consequently, toward the end of April the whole of the artillery wasadvanced to Lauzanne, Villeneuve, Martigny, and Saint-Pierre. GeneralMarmont, commanding the artillery, had already been sent forward tofind a means of transporting cannon over the Alps. It was almost animpracticable thing to do; and yet it must be achieved. No precedentexisted as a guide. Hannibal with his elephants, Numidians, and Gauls;Charlemagne with his Franks, had no such obstacles to surmount.
During the campaign in Italy in 1796, the army had not crossed the Alps,but turned them, descending from Nice to Cerasco by the Corniche road.This time a truly titanic work was undertaken.
In the first place, was the mountain unoccupied? The mountain withoutthe Austrians was in itself difficult enough to conquer! Lannes wasdespatched like a forlorn hope with a whole division. He crossedthe peak of the Saint-Bernard without baggage or artillery, and tookpossession of Chatillon. The Austrians had left no troops in Piedmont,except the cavalry in barracks and a few posts of observation. Therewere no obstacles to contend with except those of nature. Operationswere begun at once.
Sledges had been made to transport the guns; but narrow as they mightbe, they were still too wide for the road. Some other means must bedevised. The trunks of pines were hollowed and the guns inserted. At oneend was a rope to pull them, at the other a tiller to guide them. Twentygrenadiers took the cables. Twenty others carried the baggage of thosewho drew them. An artilleryman commanded each detachment with absolutepower, if need be, over life and death. The iron mass in such a case wasfar more precious than the flesh of men.
Before leaving each man received a pair of new shoes and twentybiscuits. Each put on his shoes and hung his biscuits around his neck.The First Consul, stationed at the foot of the mountain, gave to eachcannon detachment the word to start.
A man must traverse the same roads as a tourist, on foot or onmule-back, he must plunge his eye to the depth of the precipice, beforehe can have any idea of what this crossing was. Up, always up thosebeetling slopes, by narrow paths, on jagged stones, which cut the shoesfirst, the feet next!
From time to time they stopped, drew breath, and then on again without amurmur. The ice-belt was reached. Before attempting it the men receivednew shoes; those of the morning were in shreds. A biscuit was eaten, adrop of brandy from the canteen was swallowed, and on they went. No manknew whither he was climbing. Some asked how many more days it wouldtake; others if they might stop for a moment at the moon. At last theycame to the eternal snows. There the toil was less severe. The gun-logsslid upon the snow, and they went faster.
One fact will show the measure of power given to the artilleryman whocommanded each gun.
General Chamberlhac was passing. He thought the advance not fast enough.Wishing to hasten it, he spoke to an artilleryman in a tone of command.
"You are not in command here," replied the man; "I am. I am responsiblefor the gun; I direct its march. Pass on."
The general approached the artilleryman as if to take him by the throat.But the man stepped back, saying: "General, don't touch me, or I willsend you to the bottom of that precipice with a blow of this tiller."
After unheard-of toil they reached the foot of the last rise, at thesummit of which stands the convent. There they found traces of Lannes'division. As the slope was very steep, the soldiers had cut a sort ofstairway in the ice. The men now scaled it. The fathers of Saint-Bernardwere awaiting them on the summit. As each gun came up the men were takenby squads into the hospice. Tables were set along the passage with breadand Gruyere cheese and wine.
When the soldiers left the convent they pressed the hands of the monksand embraced the dogs.
The descent at first seemed easier than the ascent, and the officersdeclared it was their turn to drag the guns. But now the cannonoutstripped the teams, and some were dragged down faster than theywished. General Lannes and his division were still in the advance. Hehad reached the valley before the rest of the army, entered the Aosta,and received his orders to march upon Ivrea, at the entrance to theplains of Piedmont. There, however, he encountered an obstacle which noone had foreseen.
The fortress of Bard is situated about twenty-four miles from Aosta. Onthe road to Ivrea, a little behind the village, a small hill closes thevalley almost hermetically. The river Dora flows between this hill andthe mountain on the right. The river, or rather, the torrent, fillsthe whole space. The mountain on the left presents very much the sameaspect; only, instead of the river, it is the highroad which passesbetween the hill and the mountain. It is there that the fortress of Bardstands. It is built on the summit of the hill, and extends down one sideof it to the highroad.
How was it that no one had thought of this obstacle which was well nighinsurmountable? There was no way to assault it from the bottom of thevalley, and it was impossible to scale the rocks above it.
Yet, by dint of searching, they did find a path that they were able tolevel sufficiently for the cavalry and the infantry to pass; but theytried in vain to get the artillery over it, although they took the gunsapart as at the Mont Saint-Bernard.
Bonaparte ordered two cannon levelled on the road, and opened fire onthe fortress; but it was soon evident that these guns made no effect.Moreover, a cannon ball from the fortress struck one of the two cannonand shattered it. The First Consul then ordered an a
ssault by storm.
Columns formed in the village, and armed with ladders dashed up at a runand reached the fortress at several points; but to insure success, notonly celerity, but silence was needed. It ought to have been a surprise;but Colonel Dufour, who commanded one column, ordered the advance to besounded, and marched boldly to the assault. The column was repulsed, andthe colonel received a ball through his body.
Then a company of picked marksmen were chosen. They were suppliedwith provisions and cartridges, and crept between the rocks until theyreached a ledge, from which they commanded the fort. From this ledgethey discovered another, not quite so high, but which also overlookedthe fort. To this they contrived, with extreme difficulty, to hoist twoguns, with which they formed a battery. These two pieces on one side,and the sharpshooters on the other, began to make the enemy uneasy.
In the meantime, General Marmont proposed a plan to the First Consul,so bold that the enemy could not suspect it. It was nothing less thanto move the artillery along the highroad, notwithstanding that the enemycould rake it.
Manure and wool from the mattresses were found in the villages andwere spread upon the road. The wheels and chains, and all the jinglingportions of the gun-carriages were swathed in hay. The horses belongingto the guns and caissons were taken out, and fifty men supplied theirplaces. This latter precaution had two advantages: first, the horsesmight neigh, while the men had every interest in keeping dead silence;secondly, a dead horse will stop a whole convoy, whereas a dead man, notbeing fastened to the traces, can be pushed aside and his place takenwithout even stopping the march. An officer and a subordinate officerof artillery were placed in charge of each carriage or caisson, withthe promise of six hundred francs for the transport of each gun or wagonbeyond the range of the fort.
General Marmont, who had proposed the plan, superintended the firstoperation himself. Happily, a storm prevailed and made the nightextremely dark. The first six cannon and the first six caissons passedwithout a single shot from the fortress. The men returned, picking theirsteps silently, one after another, in single file; but this time theenemy must have heard some noise, and, wishing to knew the cause, threwhand-grenades. Fortunately, they fell beyond the road.
Why should these men, who had once passed, return? Merely to get theirmuskets and knapsacks. This might have been avoided had they beenstowed on the caissons; but no one can think of everything, and, as ithappened, no one in the fort at Bard had thought at all.
As soon as the possibility of the passage was demonstrated, thetransport of the artillery became a duty like any other; only, nowthat the enemy were warned, it was more dangerous. The fort resembled avolcano with its belching flames and smoke; but, owing to the verticaldirection in which it was forced to fire, it made more noise than it didharm. Five or six men were killed to each wagon; that is to say, a tenthof each fifty; but the cannon once safely past, the fate of the campaignwas secure.
Later it was discovered that the pass of the Little Saint-Bernard wouldhave been practicable, and that the whole artillery could have crossedit without dismounting a gun or losing a man. It is true, however, thatthe feat would have been less glorious because less difficult.
The army was now in the fertile plains of Piedmont. It was reinforced onthe Ticino by a corps of twelve thousand men detached from the Army ofthe Rhine by Moreau, who, after the two victories he had just won, couldafford to lend this contingent to the Army of Italy. He had sent themby the Saint-Gothard. Thus strengthened, the First Consul entered Milanwithout striking a blow.
By the bye, how came the First Consul, who, according to a provisionof the constitution of the year VIII., could not assume command of thearmy, nor yet leave France, to be where he was? We shall now tell you.
The evening before the day on which he left Paris--that is to say,the 15th of May, or, according to the calendars of the time, the 15thFloreal--he had sent for the two other consuls and all the ministers,saying to Lucien: "Prepare a circular letter to the prefects to-morrow."Then he said to Fouche: "You will publish the circular in all thenewspapers. You are to say that I have left for Dijon to inspect theArmy of the Reserves. Add, but without affirming it positively, thatI may go as far as Geneva. In any case, let it be well impressed oneveryone that I shall not be absent more than a fortnight. If anythingunusual happens I shall return like a thunderclap. I commend to yourkeeping all the great interests of France; and I hope you will soon hearof me by way of Vienna and London."
On the 6th he started. From that moment his strong determination was tomake his way to the plains of Piedmont, and there to fight a decisivebattle. Then, as he never doubted that he would conquer, he wouldanswer, like Scipio, to those who accused him of violating theconstitution: "On such a day, at such an hour, I fought theCarthagenians; let us go to the capitol, and render thanks to the gods."
Leaving France on the 6th of May, the First Consul was encamped with hiswhole army between Casale and Turin on the 26th of the same month. Ithad rained the whole day; but, as often happens in Italy, toward eveningthe sky had cleared, changing in a few moments from murky darkness toloveliest azure, and the stars came sparkling out.
The First Consul signed to Roland to follow him, and together theyissued from the little town of Chivasso and walked along the banks ofthe river. About a hundred yards beyond the last house a tree, blowndown by the wind, offered a seat to the pedestrians. Bonaparte sat downand signed to Roland to join him. He apparently had something to say,some confidence to make to his young aide-de-camp.
Both were silent for a time, and then Bonaparte said: "Roland, do youremember a conversation we had together at the Luxembourg?"
"General," said Roland, laughing, "we had a good many conversationstogether at the Luxembourg; in one of which you told me we were to crossinto Italy in the spring, and fight General Melas at Torre di Gallifoloor San-Guiliano. Does that still hold good?"
"Yes; but that is not the conversation I mean."
"What was it, general?"
"The day we talked of marriage."
"Ah, yes! My sister's marriage. That has probably taken place by thistime, general."
"I don't mean your sister's marriage; I mean yours."
"Good!" said Roland, with a bitter smile. "I thought that had beendisposed of, general." And he made a motion as if to rise. Bonapartecaught him by the arm.
"Do you know whom I meant you to marry at that time, Roland?" he said,with a gravity that showed he was determined to be heard.
"No, general."
"Well, my sister Caroline."
"Your sister?"
"Yes. Does that astonish you?"
"I had no idea you had ever thought of doing me that honor."
"Either you are ungrateful, Roland, or you are saying what you do notmean. You know that I love you."
"Oh! my general!"
He took the First Consul's two hands and pressed them with the deepestgratitude.
"Yes, I should have liked you for my brother-in-law."
"Your sister and Murat love each other, general," said Roland. "It ismuch better that the plan should have gone no further. Besides," headded, in muffled tones, "I thought I told you that I did not care tomarry."
Bonaparte smiled. "Why don't you say offhand that you intend becoming aTrappist father?"
"Faith, general, re-establish the cloisters and remove theseopportunities for me to try to get myself killed, which, thank God! arenot lacking, and you have guessed what my end will be."
"Are you in love? Is this the result of some woman's faithlessness?"
"Good!" said Roland, "so you think I am in love! That is the laststraw!"
"Do you complain of my affection when I wished to marry you to mysister?"
"But the thing is impossible now! Your three sisters are allmarried--one to General Leduc, one to Prince Bacciocchi, and the thirdto Murat."
"In short," said Bonaparte, laughing, "you feel easy and settled in yourmind. You think yourself rid of my alliance."
"Oh, general!"
exclaimed Roland.
"You are not ambitious, it seems?"
"General, let me love you for all the good you have done to me, and notfor what you seek to do."
"But suppose it is for my own interests that I seek to bind you to me,not by the ties of friendship alone, but also by those of matrimony.Suppose I say to you: In my plans for the future I cannot rely upon mytwo brothers, whereas I could never for one instant doubt you?"
"In heart, yes, you are right."
"In all respects! What can I do with Leclerc--a commonplace man;with Bacciocchi--who is not French; with Murat--lion-hearted andfeather-brained? And yet some day I shall have to make princes of thembecause they are my sisters' husbands. When that time comes, what can Imake of you?"
"A marshal of France."
"And afterward?"
"Afterward? I should say that was enough."
"And then you would be one of twelve, and not a unity of your own."
"Let me be simply your friend. Let me always thresh out the truth withyou, and then I'll warrant I shall be out of the crowd."
"That may be enough for you, Roland, but it is not enough for me,"persisted Bonaparte. Then, as Roland said nothing, he continued, "I haveno more sisters, Roland, it is true; but I have dreamed that you mightbe something more to me than a brother." Then, as Roland still saidnothing, he went on: "I know a young girl, Roland, a charming child,whom I love as a daughter. She is just seventeen. You are twenty-six,and a brigadier-general _de facto_. Before the end of the campaign youwill be general of division. Well, Roland, when the campaign is over, wewill return together to Paris, and you shall marry her--"
"General," interrupted Roland, "I think I see Bourrienne looking foryou."
And in fact the First Consul's secretary was already within two feet ofthe friends.
"Is that you, Bourrienne?" asked Bonaparte, somewhat impatiently.
"Yes, general, a courier from France."
"Ah!"
"And a letter from Madame Bonaparte."
"Good!" said the First Consul, rising eagerly, "give it to me." And healmost snatched the letter from Bourrienne's hand.
"And for me?" asked Roland. "Nothing for me?"
"Nothing."
"That is strange," said the young man, pensively.
The moon had risen, and by its clear, beautiful light Bonaparte wasable to read his letters. Through the first two pages his face expressedperfect serenity. Bonaparte adored his wife; the letters publishedby Queen Hortense bear witness to that fact. Roland watched theseexpressions of the soul on his general's face. But toward the closeof the letter Bonaparte's face clouded; he frowned and cast a furtiveglance at Roland.
"Ah!" exclaimed the young man, "it seems there is something about me inthe letter."
Bonaparte did not answer and continued to read. When he had finished,he folded the letter and put it in the side pocket of his coat. Then,turning to Bourrienne, he said: "Very well, we will return. I shallprobably have to despatch a courier. Go mend some pens while you arewaiting for me."
Bourrienne bowed and returned to Chivasso.
Bonaparte then went up to Roland and laid his hand on his shoulder,saying: "I have no luck with the marriages I attempt to make."
"How so?" asked Roland.
"Your sister's marriage is off."
"Has she refused?"
"No; she has not."
"She has not? Can it be Sir John?"
"Yes."
"Refused to marry my sister after asking her of me, of my mother, ofyou, of herself?"
"Come, don't begin to get angry. Try to see that there is some mysteryin all this."
"I don't see any mystery, I see an insult!"
"Ah! there you are, Roland. That explains why your mother and sister didnot write to you. But Josephine thought the matter so serious that youought to be informed. She writes me this news and asks me to tell you ofit if I think best. You see I have not hesitated."
"I thank you sincerely, general. Does Lord Tanlay give any reason forthis refusal?"
"A reason that is no reason."
"What is it?"
"It can't be the true one."
"But what is it?"
"It is only necessary to look at the man and to talk with him for fiveminutes to understand that."
"But, general, what reason does he give for breaking his word?"
"That your sister is not as rich as he thought she was."
Roland burst into that nervous laugh which was a sign with him ofviolent agitation.
"Ha!" said he, "that was the very first thing I told him."
"What did you tell him?"
"That my sister hadn't a penny. How can the children of republicangenerals be rich?"
"And what did he answer?"
"That he was rich enough for two."
"You see, therefore, that that was not the real reason for his refusal."
"And it is your opinion that one of your aides-de-camp can receive suchan insult, and not demand satisfaction?"
"In such situations the person who feels affronted must judge of thematter for himself, my dear Roland."
"General, how many days do you think it will be before we have adecisive action?"
Bonaparte calculated.
"Not less than fifteen days, or three weeks," he answered.
"Then, general, I ask you for a furlough of fifteen days."
"On one condition."
"What is it?"
"That you will first go to Bourg and ask your sister from which side therefusal came."
"That is my intention."
"In that case you have not a moment to lose."
"You see I lose none," said the young man, already on his way to thevillage.
"One moment," said Bonaparte; "you will take my despatches to Paris,won't you?"
"Ah! I see; I am the courier you spoke of just now to Bourrienne."
"Precisely."
"Come then."
"Wait one moment. The young men you arrested--"
"The Companions of Jehu?"
"Yes. Well, it seems that they were all of noble families. They werefanatics rather than criminals. It appears that your mother has beenmade the victim of some judicial trick or other in testifying at theirtrial and has called their conviction."
"Possibly. My mother was in the coach stopped by them, as you know, andsaw the face of their leader."
"Well, your mother implores me, through Josephine, to pardon those poormadmen--that is the very word she uses. They have appealed their case.You will get there before the appeal can be rejected, and, if you thinkit desirable, tell the minister of Justice for me to suspend matters.After you get back we can see what is best to be done."
"Thank you, general. Anything more?"
"No," said Bonaparte, "except to think over our conversation."
"What was it about?"
"Your marriage."