Authors: Simon Scarrow
THE GENERALS (24 page)
‘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.
‘Morning, sir.’ Lannes saluted and smiled.
Napoleon nodded in response to the greeting and glanced over the leading companies of the column. The men had fixed their bayonets and stood ready to advance.
‘Order them to drop their packs,’ Napoleon said to Lannes. ‘There’s two hundred paces of open ground before you reach the near end of the bridge, then perhaps another hundred to the far side, all of it covered by the enemy. They have a couple of guns over there as well. Your men are going to have to cover the distance as quickly as possible, understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Lannes’s smile faded as he turned to his men. The coming assault was going to cost his battalion dearly. He filled his lungs and bellowed out, ‘Down packs!’
The order was relayed along the column and the men lowered their muskets as they wriggled out of their straps and placed their backpacks and other superfluous belongings in a low pile on each side of the track. The sergeants shouted at them to get back into formation and when the column was ready Lannes drew his sword and without any preamble swept it towards the bridge.
‘Quick march! Forward!’
The head of the column lurched forward and Lannes turned to Napoleon with an excited grin. ‘I’ll see you on the far side, sir!’
‘Good luck, Colonel.You’ll need it.’
Napoleon walked with them a short distance, until he reached the small rise that gave out on to the open ground. Then he stopped to watch the attack, all the while conscious of the column held up on the track behind him. Even now, a messenger would be riding towards the Austrian commander to alert him to the force that had appeared behind the rearguard. When the column was halfway across the open ground Lannes ordered them to break into a run and with the grenadier company in the lead the men streamed towards the narrow span crossing the river.There was a blasting thud from the far side of the river as a plume of fire and smoke erupted from the muzzle of one of the enemy cannon. An instant later the grapeshot tore through the men at the head of the charge, cutting several down. Lannes was untouched and waved his sword above his head, calling out to his men to follow him as he covered the remaining distance to the bridge. There was no semblance of formation now as his men sprinted forward, heads instinctively lowered. As soon as they pounded on to the first stretch of the bridge the far bank erupted in a cloud of smoke as the infantry fired. More men fell, one tumbling over the low timber rail and out of sight into the reeds below. As Napoleon watched a ball plucked off Lannes’s hat, yet the colonel did not flinch as he turned briefly to beckon his men on, then charged forward again. They reached the centre of the bridge before the second cannon fired, the grapeshot carving a bloody lane through the blue ranks pressing on. The grenadiers edged forward, the front ranks crouching low, holding up those behind them, and all the time musket fire whittled down their numbers. The charge ground to a halt as those at the front fired back and then made to reload.
Napoleon cursed. The moment a charge went to ground it was over. Lannes went from man to man, hauling them up and thrusting them towards the enemy. The next blast of grapeshot decided the issue as the men at the rear of the column started to step back, then move away across the open ground.Their officers and sergeants tried to stop them for a moment; then, as the mass of men hurried away from the storm of lead sweeping the bridge, they reluctantly gave way and joined the retreat. Lannes stood alone on the bridge for a moment, shouting after them; then he turned to shake his fist at the enemy before starting to follow his men. As he reached the end of the bridge he jerked forward, as a ball struck his shoulder. Lannes kept to his feet, hunched low and scrambled back across the open ground as the enemy musket fire died away. One last blast of grapeshot tore up a patch of earth and cut down another straggler before the Austrians ceased fire. The sound of jeering and whistles swelled from the far bank and Napoleon could see some of the enemy waving their hats in the air as the French soldiers retreated out of range.
Napoleon ran forward towards Lannes and took hold of the arm on his unwounded side, supporting it across his shoulder as he helped the much larger man make for the safety of the low rise on the fringe of the open ground. There he slumped down alongside Lannes. The Gascon officer was breathing hard and gritting his teeth against the pain. His uniform coat was stained with blood front and back where a musket ball had passed through the flesh under his arm.
‘Over here!’ Napoleon called out to two grenadiers passing by. The men paused for a moment, still numbed by the horror they had endured on the bridge, then hurried to their general’s side.
‘Get the colonel to the rear and find him a surgeon.’
The men nodded and led Lannes away. Napoleon turned back towards the bridge. Already the sun had risen above the horizon and with the coming of day there would be no hiding the movements of the French army. If the Austrians reacted swiftly they could deal a lethal blow to each of Napoleon’s columns in turn. Napoleon smacked his fist against his thigh.They must cross the river as quickly as possible, whatever the cost. The plan depended on it. He cursed the enemy for having positioned a force to cover the bridge. Then, more bitterly still, he cursed himself for assuming that the Austrians would leave it undefended. It was his mistake, he admitted, as he looked across the open ground, scattered with dead and dying, and on to the carpet of bodies on the bridge. His miscalculation had cost these men their lives, and Lannes his wound. Their attack had been brave and he owed them a display of courage in return.
Turning round, he approached General Augereau and the colour party of the next battalion in the column. Napoleon gestured towards the sergeant holding the tricolour standard.
‘Give me that!’
Augereau cleared his throat anxiously. ‘Sir, what are you doing?’
‘What every general should do,’ Napoleon replied quietly, trying not to show the excitement and fear that gripped his body. ‘I’m going to lead from the front. Have this battalion ready to advance. Packs down and bayonets fixed. Do it now!’
‘But, sir.’ Augereau looked horrified. ‘What if you are killed?’
‘Then, if this attack fails, you will need to lead the next charge. And you will stick to the plan.We have to cross the river. Understand?’
Augereau nodded reluctantly and turned away to issue the commands. The sergeant handed Napoleon the standard.
‘Sir?’
Napoleon turned round and saw that Major Muiron had stepped forward. At his shoulder stood Marmont and Louis.
‘What is it, Muiron?’
‘We request permission to go with you.’
‘No,’ Napoleon replied in a harsh tone, and at once relented. It was hardly fair to men who had offered to risk their lives alongside his. He forced himself to smile and he clasped Muiron’s shoulder with his spare hand. ‘I would not want to be the cause of your deaths, my friends. Stay here, and then join me on the far bank when it’s all over.’
Muiron shook his head. ‘Sir, with respect, we know the dangers, and we know our duty is to be at your side. If we stay here while our general goes forward we shall be shamed for ever.’
‘Nevertheless it is my order.’
‘Sir, your order would dishonour us. What have we done to deserve that?’
‘Nothing.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘But you have served me well enough not to deserve death on that bridge.’
Muiron shrugged. ‘Death comes for us all, sir. I would sooner face it today at your side than die an old man, made infamous by remaining behind whilst his commander went into battle.’
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