Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
specify nothing. Express my approbation of the Council of State; it has
already rendered great services, and I shall be happy to see it continue
in the course it has hitherto pursued. Oh! I had nearly forgotten--you
will at the same time announce that I have appointed Joseph a
Councillor of State. Should anything happen I shall be back again like a
thunderbolt. I recommend to you all the great interests of France, and I
trust that I shall shortly be talked of in Vienna and in London."
We set out at two in the morning, taking the Burgundy road, which we had
already so often travelled under very different circumstances.
On the journey Bonaparte conversed about the warriors of antiquity,
especially Alexander, Caesar, Scipio, and Hannibal. I asked him which he
preferred, Alexander or Caesar. "I place Alexander in the first rank,"
said he, "yet I admire Caesar's fine campaign in Africa. But the ground
of my preference for the King of Macedonia is the plan, and above all
the execution, of his campaign in Asia. Only those who are utterly
ignorant of war can blame Alexander for having spent seven months at the
siege of Tyre. For my part, I would have stayed there seven years had it
been necessary. This is a great subject of dispute; but I look upon the
siege of Tyre, the conquest of Egypt, and the journey to the Oasis of
Ammon as a decided proof of the genius of that great captain. His object
was to give the King of Persia (of whose force he had only beaten a
feeble advance-guard at the Granicus and Issus) time to reassemble his
troops, so that he might overthrow at a blow the colossus which he had
as yet only shaken. By pursuing Darius into his states Alexander would
have separated himself from his reinforcements, and would have met only
scattered parties of troops who would have drawn him into deserts where
his army would have been sacrificed. By persevering in the taking of
Tyre he secured his communications with Greece, the country he loved as
dearly as I love France, and in whose glory he placed his own. By taking
possession of the rich province of Egypt he forced Darius to come to
defend or deliver it, and in so doing to march half-way to meet him.
By representing himself as the son of Jupiter he worked upon the ardent
feelings of the Orientals in a way that powerfully seconded his designs.
Though he died at thirty-three what a name he has left behind him!"
Though an utter stranger to the noble profession of arms, yet I could
admire Bonaparte's clever military plans and his shrewd remarks on the
great captains of ancient and modern times. I could not refrain from
saying, "General, you often reproach me for being no flatterer, but now
I tell you plainly I admire you." And certainly, I really spoke the true
sentiments of my mind.
VOLUME II. -- 1800-1803
CHAPTER I.
1800.
Bonaparte's confidence in the army--'Ma belle' France--The convent
of Bernadins--Passage of Mont St. Bernard--Arrival at the convent--
Refreshments distributed to the soldiers--Mont Albaredo--Artillery
dismounted--The fort of Bard--Fortunate temerity--Bonaparte and
Melas--The spy--Bonaparte's opinion of M. Necker--Capitulation of
Genoa--Intercepted despatch--Lannes at Montebello--Boudet succeeded
by Desaix--Coolness of the First Consul to M. Collot--Conversation
and recollections--The battle of Marengo--General Kellerman--Supper
sent from the Convent del Bosco--Particulars respecting the death of
Desaix--The Prince of Lichtenstein--Return to Milan--Savary and
Rapp.
It cannot be denied that if, from the 18th Brumaire to the epoch when
Bonaparte began the campaign, innumerable improvements had been made in
the internal affairs of France, foreign affairs could not be seen with
the same satisfaction. Italy had been lost, and from the frontiers of
Provence the Austrian camp fires were seen. Bonaparte was not ignorant
of the difficulties of his position, and it was even on account of
these very difficulties that, whatever might be the result of his hardy
enterprise, he wished to escape from it as quickly as possible. He
cherished no illusions, and often said all must be staked to gain all.
The army which the First Consul was preparing to attack was numerous,
well disciplined, and victorious.
His, with the exception of a very small number of troops, was composed
of conscripts; but these conscripts were commanded by officers whose
ardour was unparalleled. Bonaparte's fortune was now to depend on the
winning or losing of a battle. A battle lost would have dispelled all
the dreams of his imagination, and with them would have vanished all his
immense schemes for the future of France. He saw the danger, but was not
intimidated by it; and trusting to his accustomed good fortune, and to
the courage and fidelity of his troops, he said, "I have, it is true,
many conscripts in my army, but they are Frenchmen. Four years ago did
I not with a feeble army drive before me hordes of Sardinians and
Austrians, and scour the face of Italy? We shall do so again. The sun
which now shines on us is the same that shone at Arcola and Lodi. I rely
on Massena. I hope he will hold out in Genoa. But should famine oblige
him to surrender, I will retake Genoa in the plains of the Scrivia. With
what pleasure shall I then return to my dear France! Ma belle France."
At this moment, when a possible, nay, a probable chance, might for ever
have blasted his ambitious hopes, he for the first time spoke of France
as his. Considering the circumstances in which we then stood, this use
of the possessive pronoun "my" describes more forcibly than anything
that can be said the flashes of divination which crossed Bonaparte's
brain when he was wrapped up in his chimerical ideas of glory and
fortune.
In this favourable disposition of mind the First Consul arrived at
Martigny on the 20th of May. Martigny is a convent of Bernardins,
situated in a valley where the rays of the sun scarcely ever penetrate.
The army was in full march to the Great St. Bernard. In this gloomy
solitude did Bonaparte wait three days, expecting the fort of Bard,
situated beyond the mountain and covering the road to Yvree, to
surrender. The town was carried on the 21st of May, and on the third
day he learned that the fort still held out, and that there were no
indications of its surrender. He launched into complaints against
the commander of the siege, and said, "I am weary of staying in this
convent; those fools will never take Bard; I must go myself and see what
can be done. They cannot even settle so contemptible an affair without
me!" He immediately gave orders for our departure.
The grand idea of the invasion of Italy by crossing Mont St. Bernard
emanated exclusively from the First Consul. This miraculous achievement
justly excited the admiration of the world. The incredible difficulties
it presented did not daunt the courage of Bonaparte's troops. His
generals, accustomed as they had been to brave fatigue and danger,
regarded without concern the gigantic enterprise of the modern Hannibal.
A convent or hospice, which had been established on the mountain for
the purpose of affording assistance to solitary travellers, sufficiently
bespeaks the dangers of these stormy regions. But the St. Bernard was
now to be crossed, not by solitary travellers, but by an army. Cavalry,
baggage, limbers, and artillery were now to wend their way along those
narrow paths where the goat-herd cautiously picks his footsteps. On
the one hand masses of snow, suspended above our heads, every moment
threatened to break in avalanches, and sweep us away in their descent.
On the other, a false step was death. We all passed, men and horse,
one by one, along the goat paths. The artillery was dismounted, and the
guns, put into excavated trunks of trees, were drawn by ropes.
I have already mentioned that the First Consul had transmitted funds to
the hospice of the Great St. Bernard. The good fathers had procured from
the two valleys a considerable supply of cheese, bread, and wine. Tables
were laid out in front of the hospice, and each soldier as he defiled
past took a glass of wine and a piece of bread and cheese, and then
resigned his place to the next. The fathers served, and renewed the
portions with admirable order and activity.
The First Consul ascended the St. Bernard with that calm self-possession
and that air of indifference for which he was always remarkable when he
felt the necessity of setting an example and exposing himself to danger.
He asked his guide many questions about the two valleys, inquired what
were the resources of the inhabitants, and whether accidents were
as frequent as they were said to be. The guide informed him that the
experience of ages enabled the inhabitants to foresee good or bad
weather, and that they were seldom deceived.
Bonaparte, who wore his gray greatcoat, and had his whip in his hand,
appeared somewhat disappointed at not seeing any one come from the
valley of Aorta to inform him of the taking of the fort of Bard. I never
left him for a moment during the ascent. We encountered no personal
danger, and escaped with no other inconvenience than excessive fatigue.
On his arrival at the convent the First Consul visited the chapel and
the three little libraries. He had time to read a few pages of an old
book, of which I have forgotten the title.
Our breakfast-dinner was very frugal. The little garden was still
covered with snow, and I said to one of the fathers, "You can have but
few vegetables here."--"We get our vegetables from the valleys," he
replied; "but in the month of August, in warm seasons, we have a few
lettuces of our own growing."
When we reached the summit of the mountain we seated ourselves on the
snow and slid down. Those who went first smoothed the way for those who
came behind them. This rapid descent greatly amused us, and we were only
stopped by the mud which succeeded the snow at the distance of five or
six hundred toises down the declivity.
We crossed, or rather climbed up, Mont Albaredo to avoid passing under
the fort of Bard, which closes the valley of Aorta. As it was impossible
to get the artillery up this mountain it was resolved to convey it
through the town of Bard, which was not fortified. For this operation
we made choice of night, and the wheels of the cannon and caissons, and
even the horses' feet, being wrapped in straw, the whole passed quietly
through the little town. They were, indeed, under the fire of the fort;
however, it did not so completely command the street but that the houses
would have protected them against any very fatal consequences. A great
part of the army had passed before the surrender of the fort, which
so completely commands the narrow valley leading to Aorta that it is
difficult to comprehend the negligence of the Austrians in not throwing
up more efficient works; by very simple precautions they might have
rendered the passage of St. Bernard unavailing.
On the 23d we came within sight of the fort of Bard, which commands the
road bounded by the Doria Baltea on the right and Mont Albaredo on the
left. The Doria Baltea is a small torrent which separates the town of
Bard from the fort. Bonaparte, whose retinue was not very numerous,
crossed the torrent. On arriving within gunshot of the fort he ordered
us to quicken our pace to gain a little bridle-path on the left, leading
to the summit of Mont Albaredo, and turning the town and fort of Bard.
We ascended this path on foot with some difficulty. On reaching the
summit of the mountain, which commands the fort, Bonaparte levelled his
telescope on the grass, and stationing himself behind some bushes, which