Preparing to battle Austria
Taking legendary measures
Gaining victories in Italy
Becoming a hero (again)
T he French Revolution hit Europe like a thunderbolt. Its fundamental idea — that the people could change their government, overthrow and even execute their king, and establish a new political and social order — was horrifying to the rulers of the rest of Europe. Worse yet (in the eyes of those rulers, anyway), leaders of Revolutionary France seemed to feel that their Revolution should be exported, that all of Europe should join in their new Enlightenment.
Naturally, the leaders of other European nations were not going to take this situation sitting down, on their thrones or elsewhere. They quickly began to take steps to protect their own interests. Not content to simply contain the Revolution in France, they were determined to force France to restore the Bourbon monarchy to the throne. Exiled French royalists began to conspire for the monarchy’s return and to lobby the other nations of Europe to help in their endeavor. Unfortunately for France, some nations agreed to help.
When other European nations aligned themselves against Revolutionary France, Napoleon went into action. In this chapter, I show you how Napoleon inspired and led his men to an amazing string of victories in what was his first full military campaign. You’ll see how his legend was already beginning to develop, as well as how he had to deal with troubles on the domestic front.
No nation saw itself as having more to lose by the gains of Revolutionary France than the ancient empire of Austria. Austria was governed by Emperor Francis II of Germany, which was to say the old Holy Roman Empire. (He later changed his title to Emperor Francis I of Austria when, in 1806, Napoleon eliminated the Holy Roman Empire.) Francis was an unimaginative man steeped in tradition and determined to maintain what he considered the “natural order” even if doing so meant war. Francis and his government were exactly the kind of government that the French Revolution meant to topple, and he knew it.
Austria had other reasons to distrust and even hate the Revolutionary government. One of the daughters of the Austrian monarchy, Marie Antoinette, had married King Louis XVI of France and had been executed by the guillotine. As a result, the grudge between the two nations was at least somewhat personal, as well as ideological.
To say that there was no love lost between the two nations would be an understatement. And a quick look at a map (see Appendix B) will show that the place where the two nations could most likely clash would be northern Italy.
Some people say that geography is destiny. Geography was certainly an important factor in what would become known as Napoleon’s first Italian campaign.
In the south was the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies.
The Papal States, controlled by the Pope in Rome, took up much of central Italy.
In the north were a number of smaller kingdoms, including the Venetian Republic, the Duchy of Parma, the Republic of Genoa, and the Kingdom of Sardinia.
The Kingdom of Sardinia included a critical area known as the Piedmont in northwestern Italy. Ruled by King Victor Amadeus III, Sardinia had taken the side of the royalists and the Austrians, a decision that would prove its undoing.
The Piedmont lies just east of France and includes some critical coastal areas. Austria hoped to use its alliance with Sardinia to put pressure on France through the Piedmont and along the coast. France was not about to just let this happen, and in 1793 it sent an army into northern Italy to put an end to this nonsense. The French thought they would drive the Austrians out of the area and defeat the Piedmontese, assuring their coastal security in the bargain. Then they could negotiate a treaty that would assure France of peace in that area.
Unfortunately, by 1796, the French army had accomplished very little. Its leadership had been less than aggressive, and the campaign had become bogged down. Indeed, disaster was looming. The army was in difficult shape and needed new leadership. And new leadership was exactly what it would get.
Back in France, Napoleon had become a national hero by saving the French government from a royalist effort to overthrow it and reinstall a monarchy (see Chapter 4). Indeed, everything seemed to be going Napoleon’s way, as he had also met Josephine and fallen in love (see Chapter 5). Their marriage plans had political implications, as Josephine had been the mistress of one of the most powerful men in France — Paul Barras — who was grateful to Napoleon for taking her off his hands.
Barras had been instrumental in giving Napoleon the chance to save the government, and he would make one more effort on Napoleon’s behalf. Partly as a reward for saving the government, partly in thanks for taking Josephine (at least that’s what many people suspected), and partly because Napoleon was seen as a potentially great general, Barras appointed Napoleon Commander-in-Chief of the Army of France in Italy (as it was officially known).
Napoleon was given his command on March 2, 1796. One week later, he married Josephine, and two days later he left to take his command. He was clearly a man in a hurry! (See Figure 6-1 to get an idea how he looked at the time.) His first stop was Nice, where he met with his staff for the first time. Josephine remained in Paris, a decision that seemed logical but which Napoleon would have reason to regret.
Figure 6-1: This pen and ink on vellum drawing was made in 1796 and shows a very different image of Napoleon, but one that was likely fairly accurate. |
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Napoleon was confident and ambitious. He was determined to act fast and defeat the enemy before it knew what was happening. He envisioned something of a lightening war (much like Julius Caesar fought against the Helvetii in Gaul some 1,800 years before).
Napoleon may have been anxious to get going, but he first needed to form his staff. Many historians believe that the staff Napoleon put together for this campaign was one of the finest ever assembled, and it certainly gave quite a few officers their start with Napoleon, which for many would translate into long careers in his service.
If Berthier was the most solid member of Napoleon’s staff, his aide-de-camp, Colonel Joachim Murat, was surely the most flamboyant, known for his flashy uniforms and dashing nature. Murat was the young captain who had secured the artillery that Napoleon used for his famous “whiff of grapeshot” that saved the French government the year before (see Chapter 4), and he had attached his star to this bright young general, even suggesting his own appointment as aide-de-camp. (Murat would eventually marry Napoleon’s sister Caroline and become a Marshal of the Empire and King of Naples. Perhaps the greatest cavalry commander of his day, his absence at Waterloo, too, would prove disastrous, but his treachery would be equally so — see Chapter 25.)
Napoleon had with him in Italy other officers who would stay with him throughout his career, usually for the better, sometimes for the worse. These included Andoche Junot, Auguste Marmont, and Napoleon’s brother Louis.
When this team arrived in Nice, they met with two senior generals, André Masséna and Charles Augereau. Both would become important in Napoleon’s future campaigns, and some historians believe that Masséna, who would become a Marshal of the Empire, was Napoleon’s best overall marshal. But for now, these gentlemen, especially Masséna, were not very happy about the situation.
Masséna (and some of the other generals and officers) had two problems with Napoleon:
First, they considered his appointment to be a political one, and as career officers, they had seen what kind of leadership they often got from political generals.
Second, Napoleon was young and quite inexperienced to boot. Why would he possibly be given command of such an important army? Well, they knew why: as a reward for wooing Josephine, which was outrageous as far as they were concerned.
Masséna (see Figure 6-2) was a proven leader and a senior general. He wanted and felt he should have been given command of the army.
Figure 6-2: André Masséna was one of Napoleon’s greatest comman- ders. This is a very rare porcelain statue from 1850. |
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Hats or no hats, there is little doubt that Napoleon’s staff, like all who met him, were taken with his personality. People who met him would later write of how impressive Napoleon was in person. It was said that when he entered a crowded ballroom, all eyes would become quickly fixed on him.
His leadership team assembled and on board, Napoleon turned his attention to his soldiers. He cannot have liked what he saw. First, the position of the army was about as bad as it could get; it was huddled along a crest of the Maritime Alps. Now, this is beautiful country if you’re a tourist, but it’s not much good for providing food or anything else that an army may need to survive. Moreover, the army’s links to home were problematic. The British fleet controlled the coastline, and it was often difficult to get supplies or communications from France. The army was more or less sandwiched between the enemy in front and the enemy in the rear. It was also out of about everything, including uniforms, many of which had simply worn out.
Napoleon’s army is often described as ragtag and demoralized, and that is a pretty good description. There were about 41,000 soldiers in the Army of France in Italy, and they faced a Piedmontese/Austrian force of around 47,000 well-equipped soldiers, as well as the British fleet at their rear. Their situation was precarious all the way around, so it is little wonder that they had not been anxious to start an offensive. Worse yet, mutiny and insubordination were in the air, and royalist sentiments could be heard. Napoleon would soon change their attitude!
Napoleon could be inspirational with words, both in writing and in speaking. He knew he had to inspire his troops in Italy. He is reported to have given a speech to his soldiers along the following lines. Now, I don’t care how loud his voice was, only a few could possibly have heard it. And there is some reason to doubt that this particular speech was ever actually given. But by all accounts, he probably said this kind of thing to quite a few soldiers and officers, and this speech is quoted in countless sources. (This version came from Albert Sidney Britt’s The Wars of Napoleon [Avery Publishing Group]). Whatever he said, it worked, as morale soon improved.
Soldiers: you are hungry and naked. The government owes you much but can give you nothing. Your patience and courage, displayed among these rocks, are admirable, but that brings you no glory. I will lead you into the most fertile plains on earth. Rich provinces, wealthy cities, all will be at your disposal. There you will find honor, glory and riches!
Perhaps it was speeches like this that caused image makers to really take notice. Figure 6-3 is an excellent example of the kind of thing that was beginning to appear in Paris and elsewhere.
Great speeches are nice, but talk is cheap! The best way to inspire his troops was to lead them to those rich provinces, and Napoleon resolved to do just that. His job was to gain control of the Piedmont, but it would soon become clear that he had a much wider agenda.
Figure 6-3: This very rare gold and tortoise shell snuffbox from about 1796 shows Napoleon as a young general. The image is painted in gold underneath the glass. |
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As he would do so often throughout his career, Napoleon would defeat a larger force by dividing it and then defeating each isolated part in turn. He managed to come between the Austrian forces of General Johann Peter Beaulieu and General Mercy d’Argenteau, which were near the town of Montenotte. An early morning fog helped conceal Napoleon’s movements.
On the morning of April 12, 1796, Napoleon attacked a little over 6,000 Austrians with 9,000 French at Montenotte. The result was a route, with Masséna wiping out Argenteau’s right flank while Napoleon’s main body decimated its center. By the end of the day, the Austrians had sustained some 2,500 casualties. It was Napoleon’s first victory as a commanding general against an army.
Napoleon left Masséna to hold off General Beaulieu’s army by taking a position at the village of Dego, while Napoleon went after the Piedmontese. At first, Masséna did quite well. After discovering that the town was controlled by as many as 5,000 enemy soldiers, he attacked on April 14 and gained a great victory, including the capture or killing of around 4,000 soldiers! Unfortunately, the next day, while Masséna’s soldiers were foraging in the area, another Austrian force unexpectedly attacked, and the French faced almost certain defeat. Fortunately, Napoleon had gotten word of the situation and returned in time to chase away the Austrians and restore order.
After Dego, Napoleon won a series of battles against the Piedmontese. While Masséna was dealing with things in Dego on the 14th, General Augereau was defeating a detachment of the enemy near the village of Millesimo. A couple days later, Napoleon had Augereau and General Jean-Mathieu Sérurier attack a major Piedmontese/Austrian force at Ceva, which they successfully drove back toward the town of Mondovi.
Once again, Napoleon had Masséna hold off the main Austrian force while proceeding to do what he was under orders to do, namely defeat the Piedmontese and remove that area as a threat to France. Napoleon took his main force of 25,000 troops and attacked the last remaining major Piedmontese force of 13,000 soldiers led by General Michel Colli at Mondovi. There, on April 21, 1796, Napoleon won a major victory, which turned into a route. The Piedmontese were soundly defeated at the Battle of Mondovi.
Napoleon was prepared to march on the major city of Turin, determined to administer a final, crushing blow to the Piedmontese army. This proved unnecessary, however, as within a few days King Amadeus of Sardinia sued for peace. On April 28, the two sides signed the Armistice of Cherasco, which effectively ceded control of the Piedmont to France and took the Piedmontese army out of the conflict. Napoleon promptly sent the treaty to Paris for the approval of the Directory (the governing body in France), which was quickly and gratefully given.
The “fertile plains” promised by Napoleon were now in the hands of his army. Napoleon’s first engagement of the campaign had been on April 12, 1796, and by the end of the month he had successfully routed the army of the Piedmont and gained control of its important territory. How’s that for inspiring the troops?!
That said, victory was not certain until the very end. Throughout much of the campaign, Napoleon’s army had still been undernourished and very short on provisions, including weapons. Only after the Battle of Mondovi did they obtain enough weapons to be a truly effective fighting force. That battle really turned the tide for Napoleon’s army; before it, he was not certain he could maintain his troops in good fighting order.
Napoleon had been hampered by a lack of funds from Paris. The French government had promised adequate money on which to run the campaign, but it was quite clear that it would prefer that wealth travel from Italy to Paris, not the other way around.
Napoleon’s terms with the Piedmontese were fair, and looting was kept to a minimum. This was no small order, as Napoleon’s soldiers were determined to take their fill of whatever the local countryside had to offer, including bedding the women, drinking the wine, and eating the food. Napoleon was strict in his admonitions against such behavior and administered severe punishments.
The Directory in Paris would actually have preferred harsher terms with the Piedmontese and wanted more loot. But in the end, the Directory could hardly argue with success, and it left Napoleon alone. (To be clear, Napoleon was sending a pretty fair amount of loot back to Paris. To the victor belongs the spoils.)
Napoleon tried, with some success and justification, to portray his campaign as a war of liberation designed to give the northern Italians freedom from domination by Austria. In the end, this was probably a pretty fair assessment of what he did, and today the people of Italy see Napoleon as one of the founders of Italian unification. (See the sidebar “Napoleon and Italian unity.”)
As I discuss in Chapter 22, some nations of Europe have mixed emotions about Napoleon. Not so Italy. Napoleon’s Italian campaigns drove out the Austrians and began the process of creating unity out of a collection of small, weak kingdoms. Napoleon’s role in this unification is celebrated in the Museo de la Risorgimento in Milan. Risorgimento literally means “resurgence”; in this case, it really means the drive for unity. Thanks in part to Napoleon, Italy underwent a resurgence that brought to mind her unified days as the center of the Roman Empire.
The museum has a wonderful collection of artifacts from Napoleon’s two Italian campaigns, as well as from his coronation as King of Italy after he was made Emperor of the French in 1804. It contains the first flag of the Cisalpine Republic (which I discuss later in this chapter) and the crown and robe used in his coronation.
Other artifacts include French Eagles (gold decorations used at the top of flagpoles that represented the French Empire), items used by Napoleon in exile, and an 1802 flag that lists Napoleon as President of Italy. Add to that a magnificent collection of miniatures, snuff boxes, engravings, and documents, and you have another excellent excuse to lobby for that Italian vacation you’ve always wanted!
With the Piedmont firmly in control, Napoleon turned his attention to the Austrian troops commanded by General Beaulieu. Napoleon moved quickly to try to catch Beaulieu in northern Italy; he crossed the Po River in only two days, thanks in part to decisive action by yet another general who would make his name under Napoleon, Jean Lannes. Lannes managed to cross the river and establish a safe bridgehead on the other side. Napoleon then had a boat bridge built, and his army crossed far faster than anyone, especially the Austrians, could have imagined. By doing this, Napoleon outflanked Beaulieu and the Austrian army, who soon discovered that they were in serious trouble.
Beaulieu had some indecisive actions with the French and then withdrew to the western side of the Adda River. He moved to the small village of Lodi, where he left a rear guard of 10,000 men to hold the bridge while he took his main force to safety. Beaulieu had virtually surrendered Milan and all of Lombardy to the French. But to consolidate his gains, Napoleon would have to cross the Adda River at Lodi and deal with the remaining Austrians.
Napoleon’s advance guard quickly pushed the Austrians across the bridge, which was about 200 yards long and 12 feet wide. No one could have known it just yet, but these soldiers were about to participate in one of the most important actions of Napoleon’s career, an action that would establish his reputation, create his legend, and set the stage for his future.
Napoleon understood that the bridge at Lodi had to be protected at all costs. He quickly climbed into a church steeple and directed the placement of his artillery. (I have climbed into that very steeple, though more recent construction around it has hampered considerably the view that it offered Napoleon.) Napoleon then personally sighted the guns, earning one of his nicknames, “the little corporal,” as it was normally a corporal’s job to sight the guns. His artillery training was showing itself.
Like it or not, Napoleon had little choice but to send his troops across the bridge against what would be withering fire from the Austrians on the other side. He gave his troops yet another inspirational speech. You can still see the narrow, winding streets where his soldiers gathered. (In Chapter 24, I discuss what you find in Lodi today.)
Napoleon understood that success would depend on a flanking action that could silence the Austrian artillery. He sent his cavalry up the Adda River where it was to find a good place to cross and then come sweeping down on the unsuspecting Austrians. Then, led by Masséna, Berthier, and Lannes, the French infantry stormed the bridge. The going was tough (no surprise!), and the advance was slow. As expected, the fire was murderous, and the attack began to falter.
Then, just in time, as if on cue, the cavalry came swooping down on the Austrian positions. The fighting was fierce for a while longer, but soon the Austrian guns were silent, and the French poured across the bridge. After losing 2,000 men to death or capture, the Austrians beat a hasty retreat to rejoin their main force. For all the fighting, Napoleon lost only around 200 men and gained 16 Austrian guns.
The action at the bridge of Lodi has taken its place as one of the most important actions that contributed to the legend of Napoleon. It was also one of the first actions that convinced Napoleon that he was something special — that he may really accomplish something important in life. Lodi taught Napoleon that he was a good, perhaps a great, leader. While in exile on St. Helena (see Chapter 16), Napoleon wrote that it was only at Lodi he came to see himself as a “superior man,” capable of accomplishing things about which he had previously only dreamed.
A few days after Lodi, Napoleon marched triumphantly into Milan. There, he was received as a conquering hero, a liberator. He lived in the local palace where he received tribute from the city fathers. The city coffers allowed him to pay his troops better than he had ever been able to before, a fact that certainly improved their morale. Napoleon was treated as royalty, and his generals received similar accolades. Streets were renamed in his honor. The citizens were no doubt impressed by the fact that this French general could speak to them in Italian. Many of his officers received the, uh, attentions of the local ladies, but Napoleon eschewed that, preferring to wait for Josephine’s arrival.
In the time-honored tradition of conquering armies, the French began to collect tribute — read loot — to send home to Paris. Napoleon had always enjoyed the company of scholars and was delighted when the great mathematician and scholar Gaspard Monge came to Milan, joined by the distinguished chemist Claude-Louis Berthollet. The three of them spent many hours together in intellectual discussions, but they were also there to help select items of great interest to send to France.
Precious works of art, ancient documents, and other historical and scientific artifacts went streaming to Paris, where many of them would ultimately end up in the Louvre, one of the world’s great museums. Other items helped enrich various politicians, as well as the commanding general. Napoleon would never again be poor.
Napoleon was truly at the top of his game. But two things were about to happen that would create professional and personal turmoil.
Napoleon had not been the only general fighting the Austrians. Further to the north, the French Army of the Rhine had been fighting the Austrians across the Rhine River. The army had been successful, and the Directory wanted to put the squeeze on the Austrians in that area. The Directory sent Napoleon notice that his command would be divided. General François Kellerman would take half the army and fight the Austrians in the northern campaign, while Napoleon would take command of half the army and campaign against the Papal States and perhaps Naples.
Kellerman was Napoleon’s senior and had been a hero at the Battle of Valmy, which had been the first victory over the Austrians by the army of Revolution- ary France, back in 1792. Napoleon could well imagine that a hero like that fighting the Austrians would soon overshadow a young general leading a small army against the Pope. He was not happy, and no one could blame him.
In typical Napoleonic fashion, he immediately took steps to prevent the division from happening. He wrote to the Directory, complaining that the division would make no sense. If it wished, Napoleon wrote, the Directory should give Kellerman overall command but not divide the army. Famously, Napoleon went on to say that “one bad general is better than two good ones.”
Napoleon then moved against what remained of General Beaulieu’s army. He chased the Austrians out of northern Italy, but they managed to maintain a presence in the fortress of Mantua. Napoleon immediately ordered a siege, which began in June. If he could drive the Austrians out of this last stronghold, he could, if necessary, continue moving north, even to the gates of Vienna, to force them to make peace.
The forces inside the fortress were greatly outnumbered, and disease was a major problem. Austria sent two forces to try to lift the siege, but they would not arrive for some time. There was time for Napoleon to do other things.
The Directory had another assignment for Napoleon. He was told to swoop down into the Papal States and Tuscany, which had been supportive of the Austrians. He promptly did so (leaving behind a force of 9,000 soldiers to keep up the siege), liberating cities such as Bologna and Florence from papal control. This was a popular move with the people, and Napoleon again was seen as a liberator. Within six weeks, he was back in Milan, arriving there on July 13, 1796.
Not long afterward, Napoleon faced the Austrian forces led by General Dagobert Würmser, whose goal was to relieve the siege of Mantua and then to drive Napoleon out of Italy. Under unexpected attack, Napoleon called off the siege of Mantua, and Würmser was able to send in reinforcements to that strategic stronghold. But on August 5, 1796, Napoleon defeated the Austrians at the Battle of Castiglione. The victory wasn’t overwhelming, but it sent the Austrians packing, at least for the moment. Napoleon returned to Milan, where his personal life had taken a rather abrupt change.
Throughout the Italian campaign, Napoleon kept up his torrid advances to Josephine (see Chapter 5). He wrote her on a daily basis, and his letters were hot, to say the least. He spoke of his passion, of his yearning for her company. This should not surprise anyone; after all, he was a newlywed husband, whose passion for his bride could hardly have had time to cool. He wrote phrases like, “I have not passed a day without loving you; I have not passed a night without clasping you in my arms; I have not taken a cup of tea without cursing that glory and that ambition which keep me separated from the soul of my life.” You get the picture.
So did Josephine, and she was not all that amused by it. She had never been all that passionate toward Napoleon and was embarrassed by his expressions of love, both before and after they were married. Her letters to him were rather chilly, even formal. For example, she used the formal French word for you, vous, rather than the familiar (and far more appropriate for a wife writing to a husband) tu. This angered and confused Napoleon, who once wrote, “You treat me to a vous? Vous yourself! Ah, wicked one, how could you have written those letters? How cold they are.”
The average young husband who is sent away from a wife he passionately loves naturally wants to see her as soon as possible. And if that same wife started writing rather formal and cool letters, that would be all the more reason for that husband to want to see her — and, perhaps, to be just a little bit suspicious. Napoleon was certainly lonesome for his Josephine, but he was unable to return to Paris on leave.
As the campaign wore on, he became more and more upset and determined to have Josephine join him in Italy. When he defeated the Piedmontese, he sent General Joachim Murat to Paris to retrieve her. Murat arrived several days prior to the Battle of Lodi and reported that she was in ill health and could not travel. There was the possibility that she was pregnant. This news certainly brightened Napoleon’s mood, and he gave up thoughts of her joining him soon.
But as time went by, Napoleon was less and less happy with his wife’s absence. She no longer claimed ill health, and no more was heard of a possible pregnancy. Napoleon became a bit suspicious and said so. As it happened, he had good reason for his concerns.
Josephine was a young woman with lots of time on her hands and no husband present to keep her company and keep her satisfied. She fell for young Lieutenant Hippolyte Charles, a staff officer to General Victor Leclerc. His job gave him a lot of time to spare as well, and he and Josephine were able to spend many hours together, no doubt discussing Napoleon’s Italian victories long into the night. Or not. Charles was the very image of a dashing hussar (a member of the light elite cavalry), and he was charming and humorous in the bargain. He swept her off her feet in a way that Napoleon had never been able to do.
By July, Josephine could no longer avoid joining her husband, who was holding court in Milan. This burden would be lightened considerably by the fact that she had arranged for Lieutenant Charles to provide her escort to Italy, riding in her coach.
Josephine arrived in Milan with Lieutenant Charles as her aide-de-camp. Napoleon was elated to see his wife and apparently didn’t notice the not entirely hidden relationship that she brought with her. Napoleon was a hero and now had his lovely young wife with him. Life was good.
Life was good, but Napoleon was still running a military campaign. The Austrians were in Mantua, and two armies had been sent to relieve them. The humiliated General Beaulieu had been replaced by General Würmser, who ordered a three-pronged attack on northern Italy. The Austrians’ primary goal was to relieve the siege of Mantua and then to drive this upstart French general back to France. The ultimate effect would be to add to Napoleon’s growing reputation.
Napoleon, not surprisingly, took the offensive. He won a great victory at Bassano on September 8, 1796. General Würmser, having resupplied the fortress of Mantua, was now obliged to seek shelter in it. The French promptly placed it under siege again.
The Austrians continued to try to lift the siege of Mantua and sent more armies against Napoleon. They next faced off near the town of Arcola, near Verona. The bridge over the Alpone River was critical. On the opposite side from the French waited the Austrians, led by General Josef Alvintzi. The battle for the bridge went on all day on November 15th, and the French were getting nowhere.
Figure 6-4: This pressed-horn snuffbox in the shape of Napoleon’s famous hat, from about 1830, shows Napoleon on the bridge. |
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The Austrians regrouped and moved their forces toward Verona. The Austrians surprised Napoleon near the town of Rivoli. He was outnumbered but was more than up to the challenge. On January 14, 1797, Napoleon defeated the forces of General Alvintzi at Rivoli and then turned to defeat General Johann Provera at La Favorita.
This action effectively ended any Austrian chances in northern Italy, though they may not have realized it just yet. The Austrians in Mantua, seeing no possibility of any relief, surrendered on February 2, 1797. General Würmser and his soldiers were treated with all honor and allowed to return to Austria in exchange for promising not to fight against France for at least a year. The general himself was impressed and grateful, and the gesture no doubt improved Napoleon’s image in the Viennese court.
Napoleon turned once again to the Papal States, which had continued in their support of the Austrians, notwithstanding Napoleon’s earlier success against them. Napoleon crushed all their forces, and on February 19, 1797, Pope Pius VI agreed to the Treaty of Tolentino. The terms of the treaty called for him to sever all ties to the Austrian cause and to pay 30 million francs to the Directory. The Directory would also gain a great many additional works of art, many personally selected by Napoleon’s friend, Gaspard Monge.
The Austrians made one last effort to gain some advantage in northern Italy. Their best general, 25-year-old Archduke Charles, brother of the Emperor of Austria, led an army to try to defeat Napoleon in northern Italy. His efforts came to little good, however, and Napoleon pushed him back into Austria. Soon the French army was literally in sight of Vienna. That was too much for Emperor Francis, who had very little in the way of a defense available for his capital.
The Austrians accepted a preliminary agreement at Leoben on April 18, 1797, and then, on October 17th, agreed to the Treaty of Campo Formio. Austria agreed to give up the Duchy of Milan and make peace with France. It also lost Belgium and recognized France’s “natural borders” on the left bank (the western side) of the Rhine River. France’s gain of Belgium came with its own set of issues. Great Britain was not likely to sit by while her archenemy, France, gained ports in Belgium and Holland that were the closest part of the Conti- nent, just across the English Channel. So in the long run, this gain may have con- tributed to problems that would haunt Napoleon and Europe for many years.
After the preliminary agreement at Leoben, many of Napoleon’s family members came to visit him at his palace. What a difference from those dangerous days in Corsica (see Chapter 3)! His mother, Leticia, was there, along with several brothers and sisters and Josephine’s children. Napoleon was the gracious host, but all was not well.
The family had never warmed to Josephine, and this visit did very little to change that situation. Worse, they were not shy about letting her know where she stood. They saw her as a spendthrift and a superficial social gadfly. They may have even suspected that she was unfaithful to Napoleon.
For her part, Josephine was not happy in Italy. As elegant as their accommodations were, they were not in Paris. She found the surroundings and the social life absolutely provincial and longed to be back in the exciting environs of Paris.
Napoleon now moved to consolidate his gains in Italy. He wanted to organize the area into countries that reflected the progressive ideals of the French Revolution — and that would be loyal allies to France. In so doing, he laid the groundwork for Italy’s ultimate unification (see Chapter 22).
After dealing with the Austrians, Napoleon settled some old French scores with Venice. In early 1797, Venetian citizens had massacred a number of French soldiers, so Napoleon took action at once. In May he intimidated the Venetian Doge (ruler) into paying France a sizeable indemnity which included, among many other things, paintings and historical artifacts. As part of the Treaty of Campo Formio, Austria was given some of what had been Venetian territory.
This action was, of course, far beyond his authority. The Directory may have been quite upset with him, but we don’t have evidence of that. After all, Napoleon had brought his government unheard-of success, to say nothing of riches, so it could hardly complain. Moreover, Napoleon’s popularity in Italy and in France was greater than that of anyone else, including the Directory, so it remained silent.
Napoleon was quite serious about his new republic. He organized its government, wrote its new constitution, and appointed its first leaders. The republic grew as time went on and, in 1805, became the Kingdom of Italy.
The Republic of Genoa had been weak, and after Napoleon’s reorganization of Italy, it collapsed. Napoleon took charge, happy to see the demise of the very nation that had for so long oppressed his native Corsica. As he had done with the Cisalpine Republic, Napoleon created a new republic out of the territory controlled by Genoa. This he called the Ligurian Republic. In both republics, Napoleon promoted the ideals of the French Revolution but also preached moderation in all things political. As a result, all social classes and political parties found something to like about his new governments.
Small wonder, then, that the Italians today see Napoleon as a liberator and founder of Italian unity.
His Italian campaign over, Napoleon prepared to return to Paris. In a very short period of time, he had snatched victory from defeat and led France to a major triumph over her archenemy, Austria. In the process, he had made a name for himself that even he could not have possibly imagined.
And the people of Paris were about to let him know what they thought of him.