grunted over his shoulder, ‘Pull us back.’
Louis wrapped his arms round one of Marmont’s boots, and, digging his heels into the soft ground at the base of the reeds, he pulled with all his might. At first Napoleon did not feel himself budging, and then with a glutinous sucking he lurched towards Marmont.
‘Keep pulling!’ Marmont called back to Louis. ‘He’s coming!’
Napoleon kept as flat as he could to spread his weight, and slowly they drew him out of the mud. Just then there was a shout from the Austrian bank and glancing back Napoleon saw a handful of men pointing at them from behind a wall. One of the men levelled his musket and fired.There was a dull plop close by Napoleon’s side and a plug of dark mud leaped into the air, leaving a furrow in the glistening brown surface. Marmont was back on solid ground now and wrenched Napoleon after him. He emerged from the mud, plastered in filth, as more shots slapped into the mud around them.
Napoleon clapped Marmont on the shoulder. ‘I’ll thank you properly later on. Let’s go!’
They thrust their way into the reeds, out of sight of the Austrians who continued to take shots in their direction, cutting through the tall stems. Once they reached the bank Napoleon and Marmont waited until they had caught their breath and scraped as much of the thick, heavy mud from their clothes and boots as possible.
‘Ready?’ Napoleon asked. ‘Then let’s go!’
They burst from the reeds and scrambled up the bank. As they reached the flat ground before the bridge more shots rippled out from the Austrian side of the river, but at that range Napoleon knew there was very little chance of scoring a hit. Nevertheless they ran all the way to the safety of the low rise before they stopped, bent double and gasped for breath. General Augereau came over.
‘Good God, sir! Are you all right?’
Napoleon nodded. Augereau’s nose wrinkled at the stench of the filth that caked his commander. ‘What the hell’s that smell?’
‘Mud,’ Napoleon replied sourly. ‘What do you think?’
He forced himself to stand upright, and stared back towards the bridge. ‘We cannot cross there. That much is clear.’
He turned to Augereau. ‘Send two brigades downriver to Albaredo at once.They are to cross and come up on the flank of Arcola. See to it.We may still have time to catch General Alvinzi in our trap.’
‘Yes, sir. At once.’ Augereau saluted and turned towards his small cluster of staff officers to communicate the new orders. Napoleon turned to his muddy companions and clasped their hands in turn.
‘Thank you, gentlemen. I owe you my life.’ He turned towards the bridge, now piled high with French bodies. ‘You, and Major Muiron.’
As the day wore on, Napoleon received word from Massena that he had cleared the Austrians out of Porcile and he had a clear view of the road between Verona and Villanova from the church tower in Porcile.There were signs that the enemy had recognised the threat to their baggage train. Several cavalry units had already returned along the road. Napoleon crumpled up the note with an exasperated curse. More messages followed reporting the return of a large infantry column to Villanova and Napoleon realised that the original target of his surprise attack was no longer available. Yet the Austrians were now in full retreat from Verona. Clearly Alvinzi was terrified of being cut off from his supplies.
As dusk gathered there was a sudden exchange of musket fire on the far bank and through his telescope Napoleon saw Augereau’s detached brigades storm into Arcola, driving the Austrians from the village. The fighting ended as both sides ceased fire and the two armies camped for the night in and around the marshland that stretched between the Adige and Alpone rivers. Even though Napoleon knew that Alvinzi had rejoined his baggage train, there was still some advantage to be wrung from the situation. Only three narrow dykes crossed the marshland and the enemy would not be able to deploy superior numbers against Napoleon’s forces if they attacked. His plan had been bold, and now he decided that he had to take one last risk. He sent for three thousand of the men blockading Mantua. If the force left under cover of darkness then, with luck, the enemy garrison would not detect their absence.
Once the reinforcements arrived Napoleon attacked Alvinzi down each of the routes through the marshland for the next two days. Then, on the third morning, as the exhausted men of the Army of Italy readied themselves for a third onslaught, reports began to arrive at headquarters from the patrols that had been sent out at first light.
Marmont hurried into the study of a small villa that served as Napoleon’s field headquarters as the general was drafting his order of the day, exhorting his men to one last effort to send Alvinzi reeling back towards the Austrian border. They were bone tired, and had seen many of their comrades killed and wounded in the bitter skirmishes of the previous days. Napoleon doubted that they had much fight left in them. This day they must fight and win, or he would have to fall back and try to defend Verona with the forces that were left to him.
‘Sir, they’ve gone!’
Napoleon looked up at him, pen poised over the paper. ‘Gone?’
‘The Austrians!’ Marmont laughed and slapped his thigh in delight. ‘Our patrols did not come up against any enemy pickets and went forward.Their positions are empty.They’ve gone.We’ve beaten them, sir! Alvinzi’s running for it.’
Napoleon stared at him for a moment and then sat back in his chair with a deep sigh. It was over then, for now. No doubt the Austrians would fall back and ready themselves for yet another attempt, and the battered veterans of the Army of Italy would be called on to make yet another superhuman effort to defend the land they had won for France. Napoleon marvelled at what his men had achieved. But for now they had gained a desperately needed respite.
‘Give the order for the men to stand down.Then find Murat. I want the cavalry to snap at the enemy’s heels all the way to Bassano. They are not to give Alvinzi a moment’s rest. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Marmont saluted, and paused before he turned away to carry out his orders. ‘My congratulations, sir.’
‘Congratulations?’ Napoleon shook his head. ‘We’ve lost too many men, too many comrades for that, Marmont.’
Once Marmont had left the room and closed the door, Napoleon looked down at the order he had written, and then crumpled the piece of paper up and threw it aside. He pulled out a fresh sheet and began writing a new order of the day for his army.
Chapter 22
‘It seems that the Directory has finally decided to reward our good work, gentlemen.’ Napoleon could not help smiling as he addressed his staff and senior officers. ‘After nearly a year of victories, won by half-starved men with rags on their backs, our masters have finally decided to honour their pledge to send us the reinforcements we need.’
Massena snorted. ‘Now that we’ve all but driven the Austrians from Italy!’
There was a murmur of bitter assent from the other officers, and Napoleon could well understand it. Only two weeks earlier the Army of Italy had turned back the last attempt by the Austrians to relieve Mantua. In five days of marching and fighting the French had defeated the enemy at Rivoli and La Favorita, destroying three quarters of the Austrian army.The final triumph of the swift campaign was General Wurmser’s surrender of Mantua. Most of the garrison was starving and sick and once he had received news of the spectacular defeat at Rivoli Wurmser had realised that Mantua was doomed. He was accorded the honours of war by Napoleon and allowed to leave the fortress with his sword as a free man.The fall of the Austrian fortress had also marked an end to the incessant plotting between Venice, Naples and the papal states, now that Napoleon was free to turn his attention to his southern flank. In quick succession the Pope and the King of Naples had pledged loyalty to France, and sealed the
