The Generals

Napoleon could understand Junot’s concern. Each of the divisional commanders would have been hoping to become the new commander of the Army of Italy. Instead the post had gone to a man eleven years junior to the youngest of them. Moreover, Napoleon had never commanded any force larger than the artillery train which he had used to bombard the defences of Toulon two and a half years earlier. They were bound to regard him as a political appointment.The puppet of Paul Barras and the other Directors at the head of the government in Paris. Well let them think that, Napoleon mused.The more wrong-headed they were the easier they would be to impress once the campaign began and he won his first victories against the Austrians and their rag-tag allies in the Italian peninsula.

He turned away from the window and took his seat at the head of the long table in the merchant’s finely decorated dining room. The members of his personal staff, Junot, Berthier, Murat and Marmont, were seated either side of him as they waited for the three generals to be admitted to the first meeting of the army’s senior officers.

The double doors at the end of the room were opened by a pair of corporals and Napoleon and his staff rose graciously as the divisional commanders entered the room in their fine dress coats, laced with gold braid. They handed their hats and swordbelts to the corporals and took their places at the table. Napoleon made the introductions before resuming his seat to begin the briefing.

‘Well then, gentlemen, Paris has asked us to drive the Austrians from Italy.At the same time we are to make allies of any Italian kingdom that we can, and overawe or crush the rest. All in a day’s work for the soldiers of France, I think you’ll agree.’

The officers chuckled easily enough at the remark and Napoleon continued.‘However, I have to say that the task will not be quite so easy given the current condition of the Army of Italy. I was told in Paris that there were forty-two thousand men in the army. What I discover when I get here is that there are no more than thirty thousand, and most of them are hungry and poorly equipped and haven’t been paid for months. In one unit I passed through yesterday the men were wearing goatskins for coats and many of them did not even have boots. The army’s artillery train consists of twenty light mountain guns and a handful of transport mules.That’s not going to frighten any enemy. Small wonder that the morale of the officers and men is as low as it is.’

General Augereau laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, you can’t believe everything you hear in Paris, it would seem. Perhaps you should return there and tell them the truth, sir.’

‘There is no time for that, General.We must act now.We shall have to work hard to get the Army of Italy ready for the coming campaign.We need reinforcements, we need supplies and equipment, and above all we need to raise morale. And for that we need victories. So I have decided to open our campaign against the Austrians by the middle of April.’

‘But that’s just over two weeks away!’ Serurier protested. ‘That’s impossible.You said it yourself, sir. The army’s in no condition to fight. The best we can hope for is to defend our positions, and marshal resources for a campaign later this year, or early next year.’

Napoleon shook his head. ‘You’re thinking like an Austrian, General Serurier. It is true that the Army of Italy is not ready to fight in a conventional ma

He paused to let the impact of his words sink in, then turned to Junot. ‘Major, the map if you please.’

Junot unrolled a large map across the table and weighted the corners down. The staff officers and the generals leaned forward to examine the features of northern Italy while Napoleon picked up a cane and stood at the head of the table.

‘In brief, the plan is for the army to march down the coast as far as Savona, then cut inland to threaten the Austrian supply lines.True to form, the Austrians will fall back to the north-east. We’ll hold them there while a strong force turns on the Piedmontese forces. Without their Austrian friends they will crumble very quickly.Then we take Lombardy and Milan before turning our attention back to the Austrians. My final aim for this campaign season is to take the fortress at Mantua. So there it is, gentlemen. Any questions?’

Serurier shook his head. ‘You ask too much of the men, sir.’

Napoleon looked at him shrewdly. ‘Or is it that I am asking too much of my generals?’

Serurier’s eyes widened angrily and he thumped his hand down on the table. ‘You insult me, sir! Let me remind you I was a soldier long before you were born, and these other generals were fighting the enemies of France while you were still a schoolboy.What makes you think you have the right to question my judgement?’

Napoleon glanced at all three of his divisional commanders. ‘It’s simple, gentlemen. I obey the Directory . . . and you obey me. The Directory has told us to take the war to the Austrians and that is precisely what we shall do. If you wish to protest, Serurier, then you must resign your command and take the matter up in Paris. Is that clear?’

Serurier glared at him for a moment, before nodding mutely.

‘Very well then,’ Napoleon continued in a warmer tone. ‘Then let’s discuss the details. And tomorrow, Serurier, I will inspect one of your brigades.’

It was a dull morning, and a faint drizzle speckled the hats and uniforms of the men assembled on the field a short distance outside Oneille. At first it was difficult to believe that these men belonged to an army. Only a handful of them still had their complete kit; the rest were missing backpacks, gaiters, and boots, and some even lacked muskets and bayonets. Several were coughing badly and the majority were thin and gaunt for lack of food.

‘Hardly the stuff of victories,’ Junot said quietly as they approached. Napoleon had temporarily dismissed the senior officers of the brigade and a sergeant major called the soldiers to attention as the commander of the army and his aide marched towards them. The men did their best to straighten their backs and thrust their chests out, but it was as miserable a display of drill as Napoleon had ever seen and for the first time he felt a stab of fear that the command of the Army of Italy was going to be the death of his ambitions. He shook off the doubt as he approached the front rank. He walked slowly past the first dozen soldiers and then stopped in front of an older man, who still had his full kit, albeit worn out.

‘Name?’

‘Private Dunais, General,’ the man replied, with a pronounced accent that Napoleon picked up at once. He smiled.

‘You are a Gascon, then. Good. I need men with the fighting spirit of Gascony. How long have you served in the army?’

‘Four years in this army, General, then twelve years in the Russian army, and before that eight years in the Bourbon army.’

‘I see.What kind of trouble were you in, Dunais? To make you quit France for Russia?’

‘I didn’t like my officers, sir. All breeding and no brains.’

‘And you thought it would be better in the Russian army?’