CHAPTER LV. INVULNERABLE
Amelie died during the night of Monday and Tuesday, that is to say,the 2d and 3d of June. On the evening of Thursday, the 5th of June, theGrand Opera at Paris was crowded for the second presentation of "Ossian,or the Bards."
The great admiration which the First Consul professed for the poems ofMacpherson was universally known; consequently the National Academy,as much in flattery as from literary choice, had brought out an opera,which, in spite of all exertions, did not appear until a month afterGeneral Bonaparte had left Paris to join the Army of the Reserves.
In the balcony to the left sat a lover of music who was noticeablefor the deep attention he paid to the performance. During the intervalbetween the acts, the door-keeper came to him and said in a low voice:
"Pardon me, sir, are you Sir John Tanlay?"
"I am."
"In that case, my lord, a gentleman has a message to give you; he saysit is of the utmost importance, and asks if you will speak to him in thecorridor."
"Oh!" said Sir John, "is he an officer?"
"He is in civilian's dress, but he looks like an officer."
"Very good," replied Sir John; "I know who he is."
He rose and followed the woman. Roland was waiting in the corridor. LordTanlay showed no surprise on seeing him, but the stern look on the youngman's face repressed the first impulse of his deep affection, which wasto fling himself upon his friend's breast.
"Here I am, sir," said Sir John.
Roland bowed.
"I have just come from your hotel," he said. "You have, it seems, takenthe precaution to inform the porter of your whereabout every time youhave gone out, so that persons who have business with you should knowwhere to find you."
"That is true, sir."
"The precaution is a good one, especially for those who, like myself,come from a long distance and are hurried and have no time to spare."
"Then," said Sir John, "was it to see me that you left the army and cameto Paris?"
"Solely for that honor, sir; and I trust that you will guess my motives,and spare me the necessity of explaining them."
"From this moment I am at your service, sir," replied Sir John.
"At what hour to-morrow can two of my friends wait upon you?"
"From seven in the morning until midnight; unless you prefer that itshould be now."
"No, my lord; I have but just arrived, and I must have time to find myfriends and give them my instructions. If it will not inconvenience you,they will probably call upon you to-morrow between ten and eleven. Ishall be very much obliged to you if the affair we have to settle couldbe arranged for the same day."
"I believe that will be possible, sir; as I understand it to be yourwish, the delay will not be from my side."
"That is all I wished to know, my lord; pray do not let me detain youlonger."
Roland bowed, and Sir John returned the salutation. Then the young manleft the theatre and Sir John returned to his seat in the balcony. Thewords had been exchanged in such perfectly well modulated voices, andwith such an impassible expression of countenance on both sides, thatno one would have supposed that a quarrel had arisen between the two menwho had just greeted each other so courteously.
It happened to be the reception day of the minister of war. Rolandreturned to his hotel, removed the traces of his journey, jumped into acarriage, and a little before ten he was announced in the salon of thecitizen Carnot.
Two purposes took him there: in the first place, he had a verbalcommunication to make to the minister of war from the First Consul; inthe second place, he hoped to find there the two witnesses he was inneed of to arrange his meeting with Sir John.
Everything happened as Roland had hoped. He gave the minister of war allthe details of the crossing of the Mont Saint-Bernard and the situationof the army; and he himself found the two friends of whom he was insearch. A few words sufficed to let them know what he wished; soldiersare particularly open to such confidences.
Roland spoke of a grave insult, the nature of which must remain a secreteven to his seconds. He declared that he was the offended party, andclaimed the choice of weapons and mode of fighting--advantages whichbelong to the challenger.
The young fellows agreed to present themselves to Sir John the followingmorning at the Hotel Mirabeau, Rue de Richelieu, at nine o'clock, andmake the necessary arrangements with Sir John's seconds. After that theywould join Roland at the Hotel de Paris in the same street.
Roland returned to his room at eleven that evening, wrote for about anhour, then went to bed and to sleep.
At half-past nine the next morning his friends came to him. They hadjust left Sir John. He admitted all Roland's contentions; declared thathe would not discuss any of the arrangements; adding that if Rolandregarded himself as the injured party, it was for him to dictate theconditions. To their remark that they had hoped to discuss such matterswith two of his friends and not with himself, he replied that he knew noone in Paris intimately enough to ask their assistance in such a matter,and that he hoped, once on the ground, that one of Roland's secondswould consent to act in his behalf. The two officers were agreed thatLord Tanlay had conducted himself with the utmost punctiliousness inevery respect.
Roland declared that Sir John's request for the services of one of histwo seconds was not only just but suitable, and he authorized eitherone of them to act for Sir John and to take charge of his interests. Allthat remained for Roland to do was to dictate his conditions. They wereas follows!
Pistols were chosen. When loaded the adversaries were to stand at fivepaces. At the third clap of the seconds' hands they were to fire. Itwas, as we see, a duel to the death, in which, if either survived, hewould be at the mercy of his opponent. Consequently the young officersmade many objections; but Roland insisted, declaring that he alonecould judge of the gravity of the insult offered him, and that no otherreparation than this would satisfy him. They were obliged to yieldto such obstinacy. But the friend who was to act as Sir John's secondrefused to bind himself for his principal, declaring that unless SirJohn ordered it he would refuse to be a party to such a murder.
"Don't excite yourself, dear friend," said Roland, "I know Sir John, andI think he will be more accommodating than you."
The seconds returned to Sir John; they found him at his Englishbreakfast of beefsteak, potatoes and tea. On seeing them he rose,invited them to share his repast, and, on their refusing, placed himselfat their disposal. They began by assuring him that he could count uponone of them to act as his second. The one acting for Roland announcedthe conditions. At each stipulation Sir John bowed his head in token ofassent and merely replied: "Very good!"
The one who had taken charge of his interests attempted to make someobjections to a form of combat that, unless something impossible toforesee occurred, must end in the death of both parties; but Lord Tanlaybegged him to make no objections.
"M. de Montrevel is a gallant man," he said; "I do not wish to thwarthim in anything; whatever he does is right."
It only remained to settle the hour and the place of meeting. On thesepoints Sir John again placed himself at Roland's disposal. The twoseconds left even more delighted with him after this interview than theyhad been after the first. Roland was waiting for them and listened towhat had taken place.
"What did I tell you?" he asked.
They requested him to name the time and place. He selected seven o'clockin the evening in the Allee de la Muette. At that hour the Bois wasalmost deserted, but the light was still good enough (it will beremembered that this was in the month of June) for the two adversariesto fight with any weapon.
No one had spoken of the pistols. The young men proposed to get them atan armorer's.
"No," said Roland, "Sir John has an excellent pair of duelling pistolswhich I have already used. If he is not unwilling to fight with thosepistols I should prefer them to all others."
The young man who was now acting as Sir John's second went to him withthe three follow
ing questions: Whether the time and place suited him,and whether he would allow his pistols to be used.
Lord Tanlay replied by regulating his watch by that of his second and byhanding him the box of pistols.
"Shall I call for you, my lord?" asked the young man.
Sir John smiled sadly.
"Needless," he replied; "you are M. de Montrevel's friend, and you willfind the drive pleasanter with him than with me. I will go on horsebackwith my servant. You will find me on the ground."
The young officer carried this reply to Roland.
"What did I tell you?" observed Roland again.
It was then mid-day, there were still seven hours before them, andRoland dismissed his friends to their various pleasures and occupations.At half-past six precisely they were to be at his door with three horsesand two servants. It was necessary, in order to avoid interference, thatthe trip should appear to be nothing more than an ordinary promenade.
At half-past six precisely the waiter informed Roland that his friendswere in the courtyard. Roland greeted them cordially and sprang into hissaddle. The party followed the boulevards as far as the Place Louis XV.and then turned up the Champs Elysees. On the way the strange phenomenonthat had so much astonished Sir John at the time of Roland's duel withM. de Barjols recurred. Roland's gayety might have been thought anaffectation had it not been so evidently genuine. The two youngmen acting as seconds were of undoubted courage, but even they werebewildered by such utter indifference. They might have understood ithad this affair been an ordinary duel, for coolness and dexterity insuretheir possessor a great advantage over his adversary; but in a combatlike this to which they were going neither coolness nor dexterity wouldavail to save the combatants, if not from death at least from someterrible wound.
Furthermore, Roland urged on his horse like a man in haste, so thatthey reached the end of the Allee de la Muette five minutes before theappointed time.
A man was walking in the allee. Roland recognized Sir John. The secondswatched the young man's face as he caught sight of his adversary. Totheir great astonishment it expressed only tender good-will.
A few more steps and the four principal actors in the scene that wasabout to take place met.
Sir John was perfectly calm, but his face wore a look of profoundsadness. It was evident that this meeting grieved him as deeply as itseemed to rejoice Roland.
The party dismounted. One of the seconds took the box of pistols fromthe servants and ordered them to lead away the horses, and not to returnuntil they heard pistol-shots. The principals then entered the part ofthe woods that seemed the thickest, and looked about them for a suitablespot. For the rest, as Roland had foreseen, the Bois was deserted; theapproach of the dinner hour had called every one home.
They found a small open spot exactly suited to their needs. The secondslooked at Roland and Sir John. They both nodded their heads in approval.
"Is there to be any change?" one of the seconds asked Sir John.
"Ask M. de Montrevel," replied Lord Tanlay; "I am entirely at hisdisposal."
"Nothing," said Roland.
The seconds took the pistols from the box and loaded them. SirJohn stood apart, switching the heads of the tall grasses with hisriding-whip.
Roland watched him hesitatingly for a moment, then taking his resolve,he walked resolutely toward him. Sir John raised his head and looked athim with apparent hope.
"My lord," said Roland, "I may have certain grievances against you, butI know you to be, none the less, a man of your word."
"You are right," replied Sir John.
"If you survive me will you keep the promise that you made me atAvignon?"
"There is no possibility that I shall survive you, but so long as I haveany breath left in my body, you can count upon me."
"I refer to the final disposition to be made of my body."
"The same, I presume, as at Avignon?"
"The same, my lord."
"Very well, you may set your mind at rest."
Roland bowed to Sir John and returned to his friends.
"Have you any wishes in case the affair terminates fatally?" asked oneof them.
"One only."
"What is it?"
"That you permit Sir John to take entire charge of the funeralarrangements. For the rest, I have a note in my left hand for him. Incase I have not time to speak after the affair is over, you are to openmy hand and give him the note."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"The pistols are loaded, then."
"Very well, inform Sir John."
One of the seconds approached Sir John. The other measured off fivepaces. Roland saw that the distance was greater than he had supposed.
"Excuse me," he said, "I said three paces."
"Five," replied the officer who was measuring the distance.
"Not at all, dear friend, you are wrong."
He turned to Sir John and to the other second questioningly.
"Three paces will do very well," replied Sir John, bowing.
There was nothing to be said if the two adversaries were agreed. Thefive paces were reduced to three. Then two sabres were laid on theground to mark the limit. Sir John and Roland took their places,standing so that their toes touched the sabres. A pistol was then handedto each of them.
They bowed to say that they were ready. The two seconds stepped aside.They were to give the signal by clapping their hands three times. At thefirst clap the principals were to cock their pistols; at the second totake aim; at the third to fire.
The three claps were given at regular intervals amid the most profoundsilence; the wind itself seemed to pause and the rustle of the treeswas hushed. The principals were calm, but the seconds were visiblydistressed.
At the third clap two shots rang out so simultaneously that they seemedbut one. But to the utter astonishment of the seconds the combatantsremained standing. At the signal Roland had lowered his pistol and firedinto the ground. Sir John had raised his and cut the branch of a treethree feet behind Roland. Each was clearly amazed--amazed that hehimself was still living, after having spared his antagonist.
Roland was the first to speak.
"Ah!" he cried, "my sister was right in saying that you were the mostgenerous man on earth."
And throwing his pistol aside he opened his arms to Sir John, who rushedinto them.
"Ah! I understand," he said. "You wanted to die; but, God be thanked, Iam not your murderer."
The two seconds came up.
"What is the matter?" they asked together.
"Nothing," said Roland, "except that I could not die by the hand of theman I love best on earth. You saw for yourselves that he preferred todie rather than kill me."
Then throwing himself once more into Sir John's arms, and grasping thehands of his two friends, he said: "I see that I must leave that to theAustrians. And now, gentlemen, you must excuse me. The First Consul ison the eve of a great battle in Italy, and I have not a moment to loseif I am to be there."
Leaving Sir John to make what explanations he thought suitable to theseconds, Roland rushed to the road, sprang upon his horse, and returnedto Paris at a gallop.
CHAPTER LVI. CONCLUSION
In the meantime the French army continued its march, and on the 5th ofJune it entered Milan.
There was little resistance. The fort of Milan was invested. Murat,sent to Piacenza, had taken the city without a blow. Lannes had defeatedGeneral Ott at Montebello. Thus disposed, the French army was in therear of the Austrians before the latter were aware of it.
During the night of the 8th of June a courier arrived from Murat,who, as we have said, was occupying Piacenza. Murat had intercepted adespatch from General Melas, and was now sending it to Bonaparte. Thisdespatch announced the capitulation of Genoa; Massena, after eatinghorses, dogs, cats and rats, had been forced to surrender. Melas spokeof the Army of the Reserves with the utmost contempt; he declared thatthe story of Bonaparte's presence in Italy was a hoax; and asserted t
hathe knew for certain that the First Consul was in Paris.
Here was news that must instantly be imparted to Bonaparte, for it cameunder the category of bad news. Consequently, Bourrienne woke him up atthree o'clock in the morning and translated the despatch. Bonaparte'sfirst words were as follows:
"Pooh! Bourrienne, you don't understand German."
But Bourrienne repeated the translation word for word. After thisreading the general rose, had everybody waked up, gave his orders, andthen went back to bed and to sleep.
That same day he left Milan and established his headquarters atStradella; there he remained until June 12th, left on the 13th, andmarched to the Scrivia through Montebello, where he saw the fieldof-battle, still torn and bleeding after Lannes' victory. The traces ofdeath were everywhere; the church was still overflowing with the deadand wounded.
"The devil!" said the First Consul to the victor, "you must have made itpretty hot here."
"So hot, general, that the bones in my division were cracking andrattling like hail on a skylight."
Desaix joined the First Consul on the 11th of June, while he was stillat Stradella. Released by the capitulation of El-Arish, he had reachedToulon the 6th of May, the very day on which Bonaparte left Paris. Atthe foot of the Mont Saint-Bernard Bonaparte received a letter from him,asking whether he should march to Paris or rejoin the army.
"Start for Paris, indeed!" exclaimed Bonaparte; "write him to rejoin thearmy at headquarters, wherever that may be."
Bourrienne had written, and, as we have seen, Desaix joined the army the11th of June, at Stradella. The First Consul received him with twofoldjoy. In the first place, he regained a man without ambition, anintelligent officer and a devoted friend. In the second place, Desaixarrived just in the nick of time to take charge of the division latelyunder Boudet, who had been killed. Through a false report, receivedthrough General Gardannes, the First Consul was led to believe that theenemy refused to give battle and was retiring to Genoa. He sent Desaixand his division on the road to Novi to cut them off.
The night of the 13th passed tranquilly. In spite of a heavy storm, anengagement had taken place the preceding evening in which the Austrianshad been defeated. It seemed as though men and nature were weariedalike, for all was still during the night. Bonaparte was easy in hismind; there was but one bridge over the Bormida, and he had been assuredthat that was down. Pickets were stationed as far as possible along theBormida, each with four scouts.
The whole of the night was occupied by the enemy in crossing the river.At two in the morning two parties of scouts were captured; seven of theeight men were killed, the eighth made his way back to camp crying: "Toarms!"
A courier was instantly despatched to the First Consul, who was sleepingat Torre di Galifo. Meanwhile, till orders could be received, the drumsbeat to arms all along the line. A man must have shared in such a sceneto understand the effect produced on a sleeping army by the roll ofdrums calling to arms at three in the morning. The bravest shuddered.The troops were sleeping in their clothes; every man sprang up, ran tothe stacked arms, and seized his weapons.
The lines formed on the vast plains of Marengo. The noise of the drumsswept on like a train of lighted powder. In the dim half-light the hastymovements of the pickets could be seen. When the day broke, the Frenchtroops were stationed as follows:
The division Gardannes and the division Chamberlhac, forming the extremeadvance, were encamped around a little country-place called Petra Bona,at the angle formed by the highroad from Marengo to Tortona, and theBormida, which crosses the road on its way to the Tanaro.
The corps of General Lannes was before the village of San Giuliano, theplace which Bonaparte had pointed out to Roland three months earlier,telling him that on that spot the fate of the campaign would be decided.
The Consular guard was stationed some five hundred yards or so in therear of Lannes.
The cavalry brigade, under General Kellermann, and a few squadrons ofchasseurs and hussars, forming the left, filled up, along the advancedline, the gap between the divisions of Gardannes and Chamberlhac.
A second brigade, under General Champeaux, filled up the gap on theright between General Lannes' cavalry.
And finally the twelfth regiment of hussars, and the twenty-firstchasseurs, detached by Murat under the orders of General Rivaud,occupied the opening of the Valley of Salo and the extreme right of theposition.
These forces amounted to about twenty-five or six thousand men, notcounting the divisions Monnet and Boudet, ten thousand men in all,commanded by Desaix, and now, as we have said, detached from the mainarmy to cut off the retreat of the enemy to Genoa. Only, instead ofmaking that retreat, the enemy were now attacking.
During the day of the 13th of June, General Melas, commander-in-chief ofthe Austrian army, having succeeded in reuniting the troops of GeneralsHaddich, Kaim and Ott, crossed the Tanaro, and was now encamped beforeAlessandria with thirty-six thousand infantry, seven thousand cavalry,and a numerous well-served and well-horsed artillery.
At four o'clock in the morning the firing began and General Victorassigned all to their line of battle. At five Bonaparte was awakenedby the sound of cannon. While he was dressing, General Victor'saide-de-camp rode up to tell him that the enemy had crossed the Bormidaand was attacking all along the line of battle.
The First Consul called for his horse, and, springing upon it, gallopedoff toward the spot where the fighting was going on. From the summit ofthe hill he could overlook the position of both armies.
The enemy was formed in three columns; that on the left, comprising allthe cavalry and light infantry, was moving toward Castel-Ceriolo by theSalo road, while the columns of the right and centre, resting upon eachother and comprising the infantry regiments under Generals Haddich, Kaimand O'Reilly, and the reserve of grenadiers under command of GeneralOtt, were advancing along the Tortona road and up the Bormida.
The moment they crossed the river the latter columns came in contactwith the troops of General Gardannes, posted, as we have said, atthe farmhouse and the ravine of Petra Bona. It was the noise of theartillery advancing in this direction that had brought Bonaparte to thescene of battle. He arrived just as Gardannes' division, crushed underthe fire of that artillery, was beginning to fall back, and GeneralVictor was sending forward Chamberlhac's division to its support.Protected by this move, Gardannes' troops retreated in good order, andcovered the village of Marengo.
The situation was critical; all the plans of the commander-in-chiefwere overthrown. Instead of attacking, as was his wont, with troopsjudiciously massed, he was attacked himself before he could concentratehis forces. The Austrians, profiting by the sweep of land that laybefore them, ceased to march in columns, and deployed in lines parallelto those of Gardannes and Chamberlhac--with this difference, thatthey were two to the French army's one. The first of these lines wascommanded by General Haddich, the second by General Melas, the third byGeneral Ott.
At a short distance from the Bormida flows a stream called theFontanone, which passes through a deep ravine forming a semicircle roundthe village of Marengo, and protecting it. General Victor had alreadydivined the advantages to be derived from this natural intrenchment, andhe used it to rally the divisions of Gardannes and Chamberlhac.
Bonaparte, approving Victor's arrangements, sent him word to defendMarengo to the very last extremity. He himself needed time to preparehis game on this great chess-board inclosed between the Bormida, theFontanone, and Marengo.
His first step was to recall Desaix, then marching, as we have said,to cut the retreat to Genoa. General Bonaparte sent off two or threeaides-de-camp with orders not to stop until they had reached that corps.Then he waited, seeing clearly that there was nothing to do but to fallback in as orderly a manner as possible, until he could gather a compactmass that would enable him, not only to stop the retrograde movement,but to assume the offensive.
But this waiting was horrible.
Presently the action was renewed along the whole line. T
he Austrianshad reached one bank of the Fontanone, of which the French occupiedthe other. Each was firing on the other from either side of the ravine;grape-shot flew from side to side within pistol range. Protected by itsterrible artillery, the enemy had only to extend himself a little moreto overwhelm Bonaparte's forces. General Rivaud, of Gardannes' division,saw the Austrians preparing for this manoeuvre. He marched out fromMarengo, and placed a battalion in the open with orders to die thererather than retreat, then, while that battalion drew the enemy's fire,he formed his cavalry in column, came round the flank of the battalion,fell upon three thousand Austrians advancing to the charge, repulsedthem, threw them into disorder, and, all wounded as he was by asplintered ball, forced them back behind their own lines. After thathe took up a position to the right of the battalion, which had notretreated a step.
But during this time Gardannes' division, which had been struggling withthe enemy from early morning, was driven back upon Marengo, followed bythe first Austrian line, which forced Chamberlhac's division to retreatin like manner. There an aide-de-camp sent by Bonaparte ordered the twodivisions to rally and retake Marengo at any cost.
General Victor reformed them, put himself at their head, forced his waythrough the streets, which the Austrians had not had time to barricade,retook the village, lost it again, took it a third time, and then,overwhelmed by numbers, lost it for the third time.
It was then eleven o'clock. Desaix, overtaken by Bonaparte'saide-de-camp, ought at that hour to be on his way to the battle.
Meanwhile, Lannes with his two divisions came to the help of hisstruggling comrades. This reinforcement enabled Gardannes andChamberlhac to reform their lines parallel to the enemy, who had nowdebouched, through Marengo, to the right and also to the left of thevillage.
The Austrians were on the point of overwhelming the French.
Lannes, forming his centre with the divisions rallied by Victor,deployed with his two least exhausted divisions for the purpose ofopposing them to the Austrian wings. The two corps--the one excitedby the prospect of victory, the other refreshed by a long rest--flungthemselves with fury into the fight, which was now renewed along thewhole line.
After struggling an hour, hand to hand, bayonet to bayonet, GeneralKaim's corps fell back; General Champeaux, at the head of the first andeighth regiments of dragoons, charged upon him, increasing his disorder.General Watrin, with the sixth light infantry and the twenty-second andfortieth of the line, started in pursuit and drove him nearly a thousandrods beyond the rivulet. But this movement separated the French fromtheir own corps; the centre divisions were endangered by the victory onthe right, and Generals Watrin and Champeaux were forced to fall back tothe lines they had left uncovered.
At the same time Kellermann was doing on the left wing what Champeauxand Watrin had done on the right. Two cavalry charges made an openingthrough the enemy's line; but behind that first line was a second. Notdaring to go further forward, because of superior numbers, Kellermannlost the fruits of that momentary victory.
It was now noon. The French army, which undulated like a flaming serpentalong a front of some three miles, was broken in the centre. The centre,retreating, abandoned the wings. The wings were therefore forced tofollow the retrograde movement. Kellermann to the left, Watrin to theright, had given their men the order to fall back. The retreat was madein squares, under the fire of eighty pieces of artillery which precededthe main body of the Austrian army. The French ranks shrank visibly; menwere borne to the ambulances by men who did not return.
One division retreated through a field of ripe wheat; a shell burst andfired the straw, and two or three thousand men were caught in the midstof a terrible conflagration; cartridge-boxes exploded, and fearfuldisorder reigned in the ranks.
It was then that Bonaparte sent forward the Consular guard.
Up they went at a charge, deployed in line of battle, and stopped theenemy's advance. Meantime the mounted grenadiers dashed forward at agallop and overthrew the Austrian cavalry.
Meanwhile the division which had escaped from the conflagration receivedfresh cartridges and reformed in line. But this movement had no otherresult than to prevent the retreat from becoming a rout.
It was two o'clock.
Bonaparte watched the battle, sitting on the bank of a ditch beside thehighroad to Alessandria. He was alone. His left arm was slipped throughhis horse's bridle; with the other he flicked the pebbles in the roadwith the tip of his riding-whip. Cannon-balls were plowing the earthabout him. He seemed indifferent to this great drama on which hung allhis hopes. Never had he played so desperate a game--six years of victoryagainst the crown of France!
Suddenly he roused from his revery. Amid the dreadful roar of cannon andmusketry his ear caught the hoof-beats of a galloping horse. He raisedhis head. A rider, dashing along at full speed, his horse covered withwhite froth, came from the direction of Novi. When he was within fiftyfeet, Bonaparte gave one cry:
"Roland!"
The latter dashed on, crying: "Desaix! Desaix! Desaix!"
Bonaparte opened his arms; Roland sprang from his horse, and flunghimself upon the First Consul's neck.
There was a double joy for Bonaparte in this arrival--that of againseeing a man whom he knew would be devoted to him unto death, andbecause of the news he brought.
"And Desaix?" he questioned.
"Is within three miles; one of your aides met him retracing his stepstoward the cannon."
"Then," said Bonaparte, "he may yet come in time."
"How? In time?"
"Look!"
Roland glanced at the battlefield and grasped the situation in aninstant.
During the few moments that had elapsed while they were conversing,matters had gone from bad to worse. The first Austrian column, the onewhich had marched on Castel-Ceriolo and had not yet been engaged, wasabout to fall on the right of the French army. If it broke the line theretreat would be flight--Desaix would come too late.
"Take my last two regiments of grenadiers," said Bonaparte. "Rallythe Consular guard, and carry it with you to the extreme right--youunderstand? in a square, Roland!--and stop that column like a stoneredoubt."
There was not an instant to lose. Roland sprang upon his horse, took thetwo regiments of grenadiers, rallied the Consular guard, and dashed tothe right. When he was within fifty feet of General Elsnitz's column, hecalled out: "In square! The First Consul is looking at us!"
The square formed. Each man seemed to take root in his place.
General Elsnitz, instead of continuing his way in the movement tosupport Generals Melas and Kaim--instead of despising the ninehundred men who present no cause for fear in the rear of a victoriousarmy--General Elsnitz paused and turned upon them with fury.
Those nine hundred men were indeed the stone redoubt that GeneralBonaparte had ordered them to be. Artillery, musketry, bayonets, allwere turned upon them, but they yielded not an inch.
Bonaparte was watching them with admiration, when, turning in thedirection of Novi, he caught the gleam of Desaix's bayonets. Standing ona knoll raised above the plain, he could see what was invisible to theenemy.
He signed to a group of officers who were near him, awaiting orders;behind stood orderlies holding their horses. The officers advanced.Bonaparte pointed to the forest of bayonets, now glistening in thesunlight, and said to one of the officers: "Gallop to those bayonets andtell them to hasten. As for Desaix, tell him I am waiting for him here."
The officer galloped off. Bonaparte again turned his eyes to thebattlefield. The retreat continued; but Roland and his nine hundredhad stopped General Elsnitz and his column. The stone redoubt wastransformed into a volcano; it was belching fire from all four sides.Then Bonaparte, addressing three officers, cried out: "One of you to thecentre; the other two to the wings! Say everywhere that the reserves areat hand, and that we resume the offensive."
The three officers departed like arrows shot from a bow, their waysparting in direct lines to their different destinations. Bonapartewat
ched them for a few moments, and when he turned round he saw a riderin a general's uniform approaching.
It was Desaix--Desaix, whom he had left in Egypt, and who that verymorning had said, laughing: "The bullets of Europe don't recognize me;some ill-luck is surely impending over me."
One grasp of the hand was all that these two friends needed to revealtheir hearts.
Then Bonaparte stretched out his arm toward the battlefield.
A single glance told more than all the words in the world.
Twenty thousand men had gone into the fight that morning, and nowscarcely more than ten thousand were left within a radius of sixmiles--only nine thousand infantry, one thousand cavalry, and ten cannonstill in condition for use. One quarter of the army was either dead orwounded, another quarter was employed in removing the wounded; for theFirst Consul would not suffer them to be abandoned. All of these forces,save and excepting Roland and his nine hundred men, were retreating.
The vast space between the Bormida and the ground over which the armywas now retreating was covered with the dead bodies of men and horses,dismounted cannon and shattered ammunition wagons. Here and there rosecolumns of flame and smoke from the burning fields of grain.
Desaix took in these details at a glance.
"What do you think of the battle?" asked Bonaparte.
"I think that this one is lost," answered Desaix; "but as it is onlythree o'clock in the afternoon, we have time to gain another."
"Only," said a voice, "we need cannon!"
This voice belonged to Marmont, commanding the artillery.
"True, Marmont; but where are we to get them?"
"I have five pieces still intact from the battlefield; we left five moreat Scrivia, which are just coming up."
"And the eight pieces I have with me," said Desaix.
"Eighteen pieces!" said Marmont; "that is all I need." An aide-de-campwas sent to hasten the arrival of Desaix's guns. His troops wereadvancing rapidly, and were scarcely half a mile from the field ofbattle. Their line of approach seemed formed for the purpose at hand; onthe left of the road was a gigantic perpendicular hedge protected by abank. The infantry was made to file in a narrow line along it, and iteven hid the cavalry from view.
During this time Marmont had collected his guns and stationed themin battery on the right front of the army. Suddenly they burst forth,vomiting a deluge of grapeshot and canister upon the Austrians. For aninstant the enemy wavered.
Bonaparte profited by that instant of hesitation to send forward thewhole front of the French army.
"Comrades!" he cried, "we have made steps enough backward; remember, itis my custom to sleep on the battlefield!"
At the same moment, and as if in reply to Marmont's cannonade, volleysof musketry burst forth to the left, taking the Austrians in flank.It was Desaix and his division, come down upon them at short range andenfilading the enemy with the fire of his guns.
The whole army knew that this was the reserve, and that it behooved themto aid this reserve by a supreme effort.
"Forward!" rang from right to left. The drums beat the charge. TheAustrians, who had not seen the reserves, and were marching with theirguns on their shoulders, as if at parade, felt that something strangewas happening within the French lines; they struggled to retain thevictory they now felt to be slipping from their grasp.
But everywhere the French army had resumed the offensive. On all sidesthe ominous roll of the charge and the victorious Marseillaise wereheard above the din. Marmont's battery belched fire; Kellermann dashedforward with his cuirassiers and cut his way through both lines of theenemy.
Desaix jumped ditches, leaped hedges, and, reaching a little eminence,turned to see if his division were still following him. There he fell;but his death, instead of diminishing the ardor of his men, redoubledit, and they charged with their bayonets upon the column of GeneralZach.
At that moment Kellermann, who had broken through both of the enemy'slines, saw Desaix's division struggling with a compact, immovable mass.He charged in flank, forced his way into a gap, widened it, broke thesquare, quartered it, and in less than fifteen minutes the five thousandAustrian grenadiers who formed the mass were overthrown, dispersed,crushed, annihilated. They disappeared like smoke. General Zach and hisstaff, all that was left, were taken prisoners.
Then, in turn, the enemy endeavored to make use of his immense cavalrycorps; but the incessant volleys of musketry, the blasting canister, theterrible bayonets, stopped short the charge. Murat was manoeuvring onthe flank with two light-battery guns and a howitzer, which dealt deathto the foe.
He paused for an instant to succor Roland and his nine hundred men. Ashell from the howitzer fell and burst in the Austrian ranks; it openeda gulf of flame. Roland sprang into it, a pistol in one hand, his swordin the other. The whole Consular guard followed him, opening the enemy'sranks as a wedge opens the trunk of an oak. Onward he dashed, tillhe reached an ammunition wagon surrounded by the enemy; then, withoutpausing an instant, he thrust the hand holding the pistol throughthe opening of the wagon and fired. A frightful explosion followed, avolcano had burst its crater and annihilated those around it.
General Elsnitz's corps was in full flight; the rest of the Austrianarmy swayed, retreated, and broke. The generals tried in vain to stopthe torrent and form up for a retreat. In thirty minutes the French armyhad crossed the plain it had defended foot by foot for eight hours.
The enemy did not stop until Marengo was reached. There they made avain attempt to reform under fire of the artillery of Carra-Saint-Cyr(forgotten at Castel-Ceriolo, and not recovered until the day was over);but the Desaix, Gardannes, and Chamberlhac divisions, coming up at arun, pursued the flying Austrians through the streets.
Marengo was carried. The enemy retired on Petra Bona, and that too wastaken. Then the Austrians rushed toward the bridge of the Bormida; butCarra-Saint-Cyr was there before them. The flying multitudes sought thefords, or plunged into the Bormida under a devastating fire, which didnot slacken before ten that night.
The remains of the Austrian army regained their camp at Alessandria. TheFrench army bivouacked near the bridge. The day had cost the Austrianarmy four thousand five hundred men killed, six thousand wounded, fivethousand prisoners, besides twelve flags and thirty cannon.
Never did fortune show herself under two such opposite aspects ason that day. At two in the afternoon, the day spelt defeat and itsdisastrous consequences to Bonaparte; at five, it was Italy reconqueredand the throne of France in prospect.
That night the First Consul wrote the following letter to Madame deMontrevel:
MADAME--I have to-day won my greatest victory; but it has cost me the two halves of my heart, Desaix and Roland.
Do not grieve, madame; your son did not care to live, and he could not have died more gloriously.
BONAPARTE.
Many futile efforts were made to recover the body of the youngaide-de-camp: like Romulus, he had vanished in a whirlwind.
None ever knew why he had pursued death with such eager longing.
THE END
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