Kitabı oku: «The Camp-fires of Napoleon», sayfa 7
Lannes was pleased at receiving praise from Bonaparte, who was the god of his idolatry. Yet it was nothing more than his due. A short time previous, he had defeated the Austrians at Montebello, in a long, bloody, hand-to-hand struggle, against greatly superior numbers, and yet he had almost surpassed the achievements of that desperate fight, when, to use his own terrific expression, “the bones were cracking in his division like hail upon a sky-light,” by his unparalleled retreat at Marengo.
“I knew that so long as I maintained the right,” said Lannes, “the army preserved a sure line of retreat by Sale towards the banks of the Po. I compelled the Austrians to fight, and lose a man for every inch of ground. I blew up the caissons I could not bring off.”
It was late when the generals retired to their respective quarters, to sleep upon the laurels of Marengo. Even then the cavalry which had pursued the enemy had not all returned. The vanquished were allowed no repose. The First Consul slept but little that night. He knew that he should hear from the enemy, the next morning, and sat up, with his secretary Bourrienne, to fix upon the precise terms he should grant. He was not mistaken. The watch-fires of the victorious French had not been long extinguished, before Prince Lichtenstein, bearing a flag of truce, reached head-quarters. Negotiations for a capitulation were commenced, and the convention of Alessandria was signed on the 15th of June.
It was agreed, in the first place, that there should be a suspension of arms in Italy, until such time as an answer should be received from Vienna. Should the convention be accepted, the Austrians were free to retire, with the honors of war, beyond the line of the Mincio. They bound themselves, in withdrawing, to restore to the French all the strongholds which they occupied. The castles of Tortona, Alessandria, Milan, Arona, and Placentia, were to be surrendered between the 16th and 20th of June—27th Prairial, and 1st of Messidor—the castles of Ceva and Savona, the strongholds of Coni and Genoa, between the 16th and the 24th, and the fort of Urbia, on the 26th of June. The Austrian army was to be divided into three columns, which were to withdraw one after the other, and proportionally to the delivery of the strongholds. The immense military stores accumulated by M. de Melas, in Italy, were to be divided into two parts; the artillery of the Italian foundries was granted to the French army; the artillery of the Austrian foundries to the imperial army. The Imperialists, after having evacuated Lombardy as far as the Mincio, were to fall back behind the following line:—the Mincio, La Fossa, Maestra, the left bank of the Po, from Borgo-Forte to the mouth of that river, on the Adriatic. Peschiera and Mantua were to remain in possession of the Austrian army. It was stated, without explanation, that the detachment of this army, then actually in Tuscany, should continue to occupy that province. There could be no allusion made, in this capitulation, to the States of the Pope, or those of the King of Naples, because these potentates were strangers to the affairs of upper Italy. Should this convention not receive the emperor’s ratification, ten days’ notice was to be given of the resumption of hostilities. In the meantime, no detachment on the one side or the other, should be sent into Germany.
It is said that the First Consul was strongly affected at the sight of the field of Marengo, on which so many brave men had fallen. Under the influence of these feelings he wrote a remarkable letter to the Emperor of Austria.
“It is on the field of battle,” said he to him, “amid the sufferings of a multitude of wounded, and surrounded by fifteen thousand corpses, that I beseech your majesty to listen to the voice of humanity, and not to suffer two brave nations to cut each other’s throats for interests not their own. It is my part to press this on your majesty, being upon the very theatre of war. Your majesty’s heart cannot feel it so keenly as does mine.”
He then argued with peculiar eloquence for the cause of peace, and fortunately the conqueror of Marengo could contend with much grace for the restoration of tranquillity. He conquered the peace, and returned to Paris, to receive the homage of an admiring populace, who were now willing to concede to him the imperial crown.
THE CAMP-FIRE AT ULM
Five years of peace, following the battle of Marengo, had enabled Napoleon Bonaparte to do much for France, and more for his own elevation. Under his wise and vigorous administration, the country made wonderful progress. But the price she paid was first the Consulship for Life, and finally the imperial crown. Napoleon now appears as Emperor of France. His old brothers-in-arms, are Marshals. His beloved Josephine is an Empress. Besides, he has cherished designs of placing his brothers upon the thrones of Europe. Yet the man who has achieved all this greatness, is only thirty-eight years of age.
But now, (1805) the peace of Europe is again disturbed. The treaty of Amiens is alleged by both parties to have been violated, and once more vast armies traverse the fertile fields seeking for conflict. A coalition against Napoleon has been formed by Great Britain, Austria, and Russia. Napoleon has formed the plan of a campaign on a gigantic scale, and has executed a part of the proposed scheme with a rapidity and precision that has astonished the enemy. By a brilliant series of manœuvres, he has completely surrounded the Austrian army, commanded by General Mack, in the city of Ulm, (October 13.) In several great actions, the French had already captured twenty thousand Austrian troops, and Napoleon now has the satisfaction of knowing that thirty thousand more are within his reach.
On the 13th, Napoleon (who expected that Mack would rouse himself with one last effort to avoid a surrender) made an exciting address to the troops, on the bridge of the Lech, amid the most intense cold, the ground being covered with snow, and the troops sunk to their knees in mud. He warned them to expect a great battle, and explained to them the desperate condition of the enemy. He was answered with acclamations, and repeated shouts of “Vive l’Empereur.” In listening to his exciting words, the soldiers forgot their fatigues and privations, and were impatient to rush into the fight. אליה Bernadotte entered Munich on the 14th of October, taking eight hundred prisoners. On the same day, Marshal Ney forced the strong position of Elchingen, taking three thousand prisoners and many pieces of cannon; and the Emperor’s head-quarters were fixed there, in the evening. The French soldiers were in a state of great excitement from these rapid successes, and were with difficulty restrained.
From the height of the Abbey of Elchingen, Napoleon now beheld the city of Ulm at his feet, commanded on every side by his cannon; his victorious troops ready for the assault, and the great Austrian army cooped up within the walls. He expected a desperate sally, and prepared the soldiers for a general engagement; but four days passed without any movement whatever. Meanwhile, his own troops clamored for the assault, but he chose to wait in vigilant patience for the result. A scene of horrible carnage and the probable destruction of a fine city would have been the consequences of his acting differently; being what he would have called “unnecessary evils,” and therefore criminal in his eyes. The weather continued dreadful; the rain fell incessantly, and the soldiers were often up to their knees in mud. The Emperor only kept his feet out of the water in his bivouac, by means of a plank. He was in this situation when Prince Maurice Lichtenstein was brought before him, with a flag of truce from General Mack. The looks of the prince evidently showed that he did not expect to have found the Emperor there in person; otherwise it is probable he would not have brought such a proposition as that which he delivered. He came commissioned to treat for the evacuation of Ulm, with permission for the Austrian army to return to Vienna. The Emperor could not help smiling as he listened to him. “I have not forgotten Marengo,” he replied; “I suffered M. de Melas to go, and in two months Moreau had to fight his troops, in spite of the most solemn promises to conclude peace. You will be forced to surrender, for want of provisions, in eight days. The Russians have scarcely reached Bohemia. There is the capitulation of your general at Memingen, his whole garrison becoming prisoners of war: carry it to General Mack; I will accept no other conditions.” The same evening General Mack sent his surrender to the Emperor, and on the following morning the capitulation was signed.
On the 20th of October, the French army was drawn up on the heights, overlooking the fine city of Ulm, to receive the surrender, according to the conditions. The rain had ceased, and the sky was bright and clear. The dress and accoutrements of the French troops, and especially those of the cavalry, shone resplendent in the sun. The Emperor was posted on a slight eminence in front of the centre of his army. He had caused a large fire to be kindled there, for the air was intensely cold. A short distance in the rear, that faithful Mameluke who always accompanied Napoleon after the Egyptian campaign, held the bridle of a restless horse. His gaudy, Asiatic costume, was in singular contrast with that of the French soldiers. The French marshals and generals were grouped in the vicinity of the fire. Among them were the commanding forms of Ney, Lannes, Murat, Davoust, Duroc, Bernadotte, Bessiere, Soult and Dupont—a brotherhood of daring valor. The calm, immovable countenance of Marshal Soult was in strange contrast with the more vivacious faces near him, and bespoke the cool, steady mind of that skilful general. The Emperor stood, as usual, with his hands behind him, and his head slightly bent. His figure had grown stout, and had a decided tendency to corpulency. The countenance was stern, but the eyes were unquiet, and his mind was evidently very busy, as usual. In every lineament could be traced that keen, daring genius, which had raised the lieutenant of artillery to an imperial throne.
It was a glorious day for the French. Their drums beat, and their bands poured forth the swelling strains of triumph. The gates of Ulm were opened; and then the long line of white uniforms marked the egress of the Austrians. They advanced in silence, becoming the dejection of the vanquished, filed off slowly, and went, corps by corps, to lay down their arms upon the plain between them and the heights on which the French army appeared. The ceremony lasted the whole day. In the morning, General Mack and his principal officers, to the number of sixteen, advanced to meet the conqueror at the fire near which he stood. He received the conquered generals with respect, and addressed many remarks to them; but the officers were too deeply humiliated to reply. To General Mack, he said—
“I must complain of the iniquitous proceeding of your government, in coming without any declaration of war to seize me by the throat. The Aulic Council would have done better, if, instead of mixing up Asiatic hordes in European quarrels, it had joined with me to repel Russian encroachment.” Mack bowed, but made no reply.
During the interview, a general officer, more remarkable for his petulance than his wit, repeated aloud an expression as coming from one of the soldiers, throwing ridicule upon the vanquished. Napoleon, whose ear was quick to catch the words, immediately sent Savary to tell the officer to retire, saying then to those near him, “He must have little respect for himself, who insults men in misfortune!”
All the officers were allowed to return home, on giving their word of honor not to serve against France until a general exchange of prisoners should take place. The men were to be marched into France, to be distributed throughout the agricultural districts of the country, where their work in the field might supply the place of that of the conscripts required for the army. The unfortunate Mack was immediately consigned to a dungeon on the charge of treachery, upon his return to Vienna.
The capitulation of Ulm gave Napoleon the remainder of the Austrian army, which had numbered fifty thousand men. The campaign was, perhaps, unexampled in the annals of war. Of the French army, scarcely fifteen hundred men were killed and wounded; while the enemy had lost an immense number of men in battle, fifty thousand excellent troops by capitulation, two hundred cannon, ninety flags, and a large number of horses. Such were the glorious results of Napoleon’s skilful manœuvres and rapid movements.
The Emperor slept that night at Elchingen. Joy pervaded the French camp. The troops were now more strongly convinced than ever, that their Emperor was invincible.
THE CAMP-FIRE AT AUSTERLITZ
The victory of Austerlitz is considered by many competent judges as the most splendid triumph ever gained by Napoleon; and the “sun of Austerlitz,” is a watchword with the French soldiery to the present day. The scene of this great battle is in the vicinity of the small seignoral town of Austerlitz, situated on the Littawa, in Moravia.
Napoleon, with that military tact which he had received from nature, and which he had so greatly improved by experience, had adopted, among other positions which he might have taken about Brunn, one which could not fail to insure to him the most important results, under the supposition that he should be attacked—a supposition which had become a certainty.
The mountains of Moravia, which connect the mountains of Bohemia with those of Hungary, subside successively towards the Danube, so completely that near that river Moravia presents but one wide plain. In the environs of Brunn, the capital of the province, they are not of greater altitude than high hills, and are covered with dark firs. Their waters, retained for want of drains, form numerous ponds, and throw themselves by various streams into the Morawa, or March, and by the Morawa and the Danube.
All these characters are found together in the position between Brunn and Austerlitz, which Napoleon has rendered forever celebrated. The high road of Moravia, running from Vienna to Brunn, rises in a direct line to the northward, then, in passing from Brunn to Olmutz, descends abruptly to the right, that is to the east, thus forming a right angle with its first direction. In the angle is situated the position in question. It commences on the left towards the Olmutz road, with heights studded with firs; it then runs to the right in an oblique direction towards the Vienna road, and after subsiding gradually, terminates in ponds full of deep water in winter. Along this position, and in front of it, runs a rivulet, which has no name known in geography, but which, in part of its course, is called Goldbach by the people of the country. It runs through the little villages of Girzikowitz, Puntowitz, Kobelnitz, Sokolnitz, and Telnitz, and, sometimes forming marshes, sometimes confined in channels, terminates in the ponds above mentioned, which are called the ponds of Satschau and Menitz.
Concentrated with all his forces on this ground, defended on the one hand upon the wooded hills of Moravia, and particularly upon a rounded knoll to which the soldiers of Egypt gave the name of the Centon, defended on the other, upon the ponds of Satschau and Menitz—thus covering by his left the Olmutz road, by his right the Vienna road—Napoleon was in a condition to accept with advantage a decisive battle. He meant not, however, to confine his operations to self-defence, for he was accustomed to reckon upon greater results; he had divined, as though he had read them, the plans framed at great length by General Weirother. The Austro-Russians, having no chance of wresting from him the point d’appui which he found for his left in the high wooded hills, would be tempted to turn his right, which was not close to the ponds, and to take the Vienna road from him. There was sufficient inducement for this step; for Napoleon, if he lost that road, would have no other resource but to retire into Bohemia. The rest of his forces, hazarded towards Vienna, would be obliged to ascend separately the valley of the Danube. The French army, thus divided, would find itself doomed to a retreat, eccentric, perilous, nay, even disastrous, if it should fall in with the Prussians by the way.
Napoleon was perfectly aware that such must be the plan of the enemy. Accordingly, after concentrating his army towards his left and the heights, he left towards his right, that is towards Sokolnitz, Telnitz, and the ponds, a space almost unguarded. He thus invited the Russians to persevere in their plans. But it was not precisely there that he prepared the mortal stroke for them. The ground facing him presented a feature from which he hoped to derive a decisive result.
Beyond the stream that ran in front of the position, the ground spread at first, opposite to the left, into a slightly undulated plain, through which passed the Olmutz road; then, opposite to the centre, it rose successively, and at last formed facing the right a plateau, called the plateau of Pratzen, after the name of a village situated half-way up, in the hollow of a ravine. This plateau terminated on the right in rapid declivities towards the ponds, and at the back in a gentle slope towards Austerlitz, the chateau of which appeared at some distance.
There were to be seen considerable forces; there a multitude of fires blazed at night, and a great movement of men and horses was observable by day. On these appearances, Napoleon had no longer any doubt of the designs of the Austro-Russians. They intended evidently to descend from the position which they occupied, and, crossing the Goldbach rivulet, between the ponds and the French right, to cut them off from the Vienna road. But, for this reason, it was resolved to take the offensive in turn, to cross the rivulet at the villages of Girzikowitz and Puntowitz, to ascend to the plateau of Pratzen while the Russians were leaving it, and to take possession of it. In case of success, the enemy’s army would be cut in two; one part would be thrown to the left into the plain crossed by the Olmutz road; the other to the right into the ponds. Thenceforward the battle could not fail to be disastrous for the Austro-Russians. But, for this effect, it was requisite that they should not blunder by halves. The prudent, nay even timid attitude of Napoleon, exciting their silly confidence, would induce them to commit the entire blunder.
Agreeably to these ideas, Napoleon made his dispositions. Expecting for two days past to be attacked, he had ordered Bernadotte to quit Iglau on the frontier of Bohemia, to leave there the Bavarian division which he had brought with him, and to hasten by forced marches to Brunn. He had ordered Marshal Davoust to march Friant’s and if possible Gudin’s division towards the abbey of Gross Raigern, situated on the road from Vienna to Brunn, opposite to the ponds. In consequence of these orders, Bernadotte marched, and had arrived on the 1st of December. General Friant, being alone apprised in time, because General Gudin was at a greater distance towards Presburg, had set out immediately, and travelled in forty-eight hours the thirty-six leagues which separate Vienna from Gross Raigern. The soldiers sometimes dropped on the road, exhausted with fatigue; but at the least sound, imagining that they heard the cannon, they rose with ardor to hasten to the assistance of their comrades, engaged, they said, in a bloody battle. On the night of the 1st of December, which was extremely cold, they bivouacked at Gross Raigern, a league and a half from the field of battle. Never did troops on foot perform so astonishing a march; for it is a march of eighteen leagues a day for two successive days.
On the 1st of December, Napoleon, reinforced by Bernadotte’s corps and Friant’s division, could number sixty-five or seventy thousand men, present under arms, against ninety thousand men, Russians and Austrians, likewise present under arms.
At his left he placed Lannes, in whose corps Caffarelli’s division supplied the place of Gazan’s. Lannes, with the two divisions of Suchet and Caffarelli, was to occupy the Olmutz road, and to fight in the undulated plain outspread on either side of that road. Napoleon gave him, moreover, Murat’s cavalry, comprising the cuirassiers of Generals d’Hautpoul and Nansouty, the dragoons of General Walther and Beaumont, and the chasseurs of Generals Milhaud and Kellermann. The level surface of the ground led him to expect a prodigious engagement of cavalry on this spot. On the knoll of the Centon, which commands this part of the ground, and is topped by a chapel called the chapel of Bosenitz, he placed the 17th light artillery, commanded by General Claparede, with eighteen pieces of cannon, and made him take an oath to defend this position to the death.
At the centre, behind the Goldbach rivulet, he ranged Vandamme’s and St. Hilaire’s divisions, which belong to the corps of Marshal Soult. He destined them to cross that stream at the villages of Girzikowitz and Puntowitz, and to gain possession of the plateau of Pratzen, when the proper moment should arrive. A little further behind the marsh of Kobelnitz and the chateau of Kobelnitz, he placed Marshal Soult’s third division, that of General Legrand. He reinforced it with two battalions of tirailleurs, known by the names of chasseurs of the Po and Corsican chasseurs, and by a detachment of light cavalry, under General Margaron. This division was to have only the third of the line and the Corsican chasseurs at Telnitz, the nearest point to the ponds, and to which Napoleon was desirous of drawing the Russians. Far in rear, at the distance of a league and a half, was posted Friant’s division at Gross Raigern.
Having ten divisions of infantry, Napoleon, therefore, presented but six of them in line. Behind Marshals Lannes and Soult, he kept in reserve Oudinot’s grenadiers, separated on this occasion from Lannes’s corps, the corps of Bernadotte, composed of Drouet’s and Rivaud’s divisions, and, lastly, the imperial guard. He thus kept at hand a mass of twenty-five thousand men, to move to any point where they might be needed, and particularly to the heights of Pratzen, in order to take those heights at any cost, if the Russians should not have cleared them sufficiently.
Such were the skilful dispositions of the Emperor, and having completed what may be called the foundation of victory, he issued a confident proclamation to his soldiers, as follows:
“Soldiers—The Russian army appears before you to avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. They are the same battalions that you beat at Hollabrunn, and that you have since been constantly pursuing to this spot.
“The positions which we occupy are formidable; and while they are marching to turn my right, they will present their flank to me.
“Soldiers, I shall myself direct your battalions. I shall keep out of the fire, if, with your usual bravery, you throw disorder and confusion into the enemy’s ranks. But, if the victory should be for a moment uncertain, you will see your Emperor the foremost to expose himself to danger. For victory must not hang doubtful on this day, most particularly, when the honor of the French infantry, which so deeply concerns the honor of the whole nation, is at stake.
“Let not the ranks be thinned upon pretence of carrying away the wounded, and let every one be thoroughly impressed with this thought, that it behoves us to conquer these hirelings of England, who are animated with such bitter hatred against our nation.
“This victory will put an end to the campaign, and we shall then be able to return to our winter-quarters, where we shall be joined by the new armies which are forming in France, and then the peace which I shall make will be worthy of my people, of you, and of myself.
Napoleon.”
Napoleon had passed the whole day on horseback, and had himself placed every division in position, inspecting every position. All his marshals dined with him, and received his careful and precise orders for the operations of the next day. He then once more glanced at the position of the Russian and Austrian armies, and a smile illumined his features as he said to his marshals,
“Before to-morrow night that army will be in my power. Since the Czar refuses to negotiate for a peace, we must drub him into it.”
He then entered a rude hut, which his soldiers had constructed for him, and stretched himself upon some straw to repose. A hard couch for an emperor! Yet there Napoleon fell into so deep a sleep that his aid-de-camp, Savary, was obliged to shake him, in order to wake him up, to listen to a report which he had ordered to be brought to him. Rousing himself, he left the hut, accompanied by his aid, and proceeded to visit the bivouacs of the army. The night was cold and dark; and the Emperor had reason to believe that he could go among the soldiers without being noticed. But he had only proceeded a few steps before he was discovered, and in a few moments, the whole line was illuminated with torches of straw, while the air was filled with acclamations of “Vive l’Empereur!” It was a glorious sight, and the glare of the torches must have astonished the enemy. That tremendous shout must have told Kutusoff, the Prussian general, that he would be compelled to fight an enemy, full of spirit and confidence.
As Napoleon passed along, one of the old grenadiers, a veteran of Italy, stepped forward, and accosted him with an air of republican familiarity and kindly patronage.
“Sire,” said this old soldier, “you will have no need to expose yourself to danger; I promise you, in the name of the grenadiers of the army, that you will only have to fight with your eyes, and that we will bring you all the flags and cannon of the Russian army, to celebrate the anniversary of your coronation.”
The Emperor was delighted at the spirit displayed by the troops, and, in accordance with their general request, he promised to keep beyond the reach of the enemy’s guns.
Sir Walter Scott finely remarks upon this: “Napoleon,” says he, “promises that he will keep his person out of the reach of the fire: thus showing the full confidence that the assurance of his personal safety would be considered as great an encouragement to the troops as the usual protestations of sovereigns and leaders, that they will be in the front, and share the dangers of the day. This is, perhaps, the strongest proof possible of the complete and confidential understanding which subsisted between Napoleon and his soldiers. Yet there have not been wanting those who have thrown the imputation of cowardice on the victor of a hundred battles, and whose reputation was so well established amongst those troops, who must have been the best judges, that his attention to the safety of his person was requested by them, and granted by him, as a favor to his army.”
The Emperor was on the field by one o’clock in the morning, to get an army under arms in silence. A thick fog, through which the light of the torches could not penetrate to the distance of ten paces, enveloped all the bivouacs; but he knew the ground as well as the environs of Paris. His army, amounting in all to about seventy thousand men, was arranged as follows. The two divisions of Marshal Soult, placed on a vast plateau, formed the right; the division of united grenadiers, drawn up in line behind, constituting the reserve of the right. The two divisions of Marshal Bernadotte, in line with the united grenadiers, formed the centre of the army. The left wing was composed of the two divisions of Marshal Lannes; the infantry of the guard forming the reserve of the left. In advance of the centre, and between the right and left wings, was posted the whole of the cavalry, under the command of Murat. The divisions of hussars and chasseurs were entrusted to Kellermann; the dragoons, to Valther and Beaumont. The cuirassiers and eighty pieces of light artillery formed the reserve of the cavalry. The right of the army rested on some long and narrow defiles formed by ponds; the left, on the strongly fortified position of the Centon. The two divisions of Marshal Davoust were posted on the extreme right, beyond the ponds, to face the left wing of the Russians, which had been extended, as we have said, to a dangerous distance from their centre, and intended, as the Emperor perceived, to commence the battle with an attempt to turn his right. The Emperor himself, with Berthier, Junot, and the whole of his staff, occupied a commanding position, as the reserve of the army, with ten battalions of the imperial guard, and ten battalions of grenadiers, commanded by Oudinot and Duroc. This reserve was ranged in two lines, in columns, by battalions, having in their intervals forty pieces of cannon served by the artillery of the guard. With this reserve, equal to turning the fate of almost any battle, he held himself ready to act wherever occasion should require.
As the day dawned, the mist which had overhung all the dreadful show, began slowly to ascend, like a vast curtain, from the broad plain below. The sun rose in unclouded and majestic brilliancy; and dissipating all remains of the vapors, disclosed to view the great Russian army, commanded by Field-Marshal Kutusoff, to the number of eighty thousand men, ranged in six divisions, on the opposite heights of Pratzen. The magnificence of the sunrise of this eventful morning, enhanced at the time by the previous dense mist, and by the national memories ever since, has caused the “sun of Austerlitz” to become proverbial with the people of France. The two emperors of Russia and Austria were witnesses of the fierce contest; being stationed on horseback on the heights of Austerlitz. As the first rays of the sun were flung from the horizon, the Emperor Napoleon appeared in front of his army, surrounded by his marshals, and formed every division, both of infantry and cavalry, into columns. A brisk fire had just commenced on the extreme right, where Davoust was already at his post; and the Russians began to put themselves in motion to descend from the heights upon the plain. The marshals who surrounded the Emperor importuned him to begin. “How long will it take you,” said he to Soult, “to crown those opposite heights which the Russians are now abandoning?” “One hour,” answered the marshal. “In that case, we will wait yet a quarter of an hour,” replied the Emperor. The cannonade increased, denoting that the attack had become serious. The extreme of the Russian left had commenced its movement to turn the right flank of the French army, but had encountered the formidable resistance of Davoust’s two divisions, with whom they were just engaged. Napoleon now dismissed all the marshals to their posts, and ordered them to begin.
