BOOK II.CHAPTER I.
At dawn of day, next morning, the city of Alexandria was arrayed in all its attributes of festivity. An immense population circulated in the streets, festooned with tapestry, garlands of flowers, and glossy foliage. The crowd pressed chiefly from the Town Hall, inhabited by Napoleon and Josephine, towards the triumphal arch, erected at the extremity of the suburb through which they were to pass on their way to the memorable plains of Marengo.
The whole way, from Alexandria to the Marengo, the same populace, the same cries, the same braying of trumpets. Never had the pilgrimage to the shrine of our Lady of Loretto,never had even the Holy Jubilee of Rome, attracted such multitudes as were proceeding towards the field of that tremendous battle, whose ashes were scarcely yet cold in the earth. On the plain of Marengo, the Emperor has promised to preside over a sham-fight—a mimic representation, given in honour of the signal victory obtained five years before upon the spot, by the Consul Bonaparte.
Tables, raised on trestles, appear to line the road. The people, in innumerable masses, are eating, drinking, singing, shouting, and acting plays in the open air. Even preaching is not neglected; for more than one pulpit has been improvisated between the theatres and wine-shops; from which hosts of greasy monks, not satisfied with giving their benediction to the passengers, and exhorting them to temperance and sobriety, gratify their avarice by the sale of consecrated chaplets, and little virgins, carved in ivory.
In the long and only street of the village of Marengo, every house, transformed into an inn, presents a scene of noise and confusion. To every window, the eyes of the spectators are attracted by strings of smoked hams or sausages; of quails or red partridges, or pyramids of gingerbread and cakes. People are pushing in, or pushing out at every door; Italians and French, soldiers or peasants; heaps of maccaroni, of marchpane, and other dainties, are beginning to disappear. In the dark and narrow staircases, people rub quarrelsomely against each other; some even compelled, by the rapacity of their neighbours, to raise over their heads the food they are carrying; while a cleverer hand and longer arm than theirown, makes off, unperceived, with the savoury burden: whether a buttered loaf, figs, grapes, oranges, a Turin ham, a larded quail, a force-meat pie, or an excellentstufato, in its tureen; when cries of indignation, or shrieks of distress, accompanied by mockeries and loud laughter, resound on every side. The thief, in the ascending line upon the staircase, satisfied with his plunder, tries to turn back and run away. The victim, in the descending line, robbed of his dinner, attempts to return, and furnish himself with new provisions; and the flux and reflux of the crowd, disorganized by these irregular movements, is pushed partly into the street, and partly into the warehouse on the second story, amid oaths, imprecations, and peals of laughter; while their discomfiture is hailed, with added uproar, by the drinkers already established in the wine-shops of the ground floor, in defiance of the sage counsels of the monks.
From one room to another, among tables covered with dishes and surrounded with guests, are seen circulating the hostess andgiannine, or waitresses of the house; some with gay-coloured aprons, powdered hair, and the coquettish little poniard, which forms part of their holiday costume; others with short petticoats, long braids of hair, naked feet, and a thousand glittering ornaments of tinsel or gold.
But to these animated scenes in the village or the road—the chamber or the street—to these cries, songs, exclamations, the noise of music, dancing, talking, and the jingling of plates and glasses, other sounds of a different nature are about to succeed.
In an hour the thundering noise of cannon will be heard; cannon almost harmless, indeed, and likely only to break the windows of the houses. The little street will echo with the word of command, and every house be eclipsed by the smoke of volleys of musketry, charged with powder. Then, beware of pillage, unless every remnant of provision has been placed in safety; nay, let the gaygianninalook to herself: for a mimic war is apt, in such particulars, to imitate its prototype. In great particulars, however, no less: for nothing can exceedthe majesty of the preparations for the sham-fight upon the plain of Marengo.
A magnificent throne, planted round with tri-coloured standards, is raised upon one of the few hillocks which diversify the field. Already the troops, in every variety of uniform, are defiling towards the spot. The trumpet appeals to the cavalry; the rolling of drums seems to cover the whole surface of the plain, which trembles under the heavy progress of the artillery and ammunition-waggons. The aide-de-camps, in their glittering uniforms, are galloping hither and thither; the banners waving to the wind, which causes, at the same time, a pleasing undulation of the feathers, aigrettes, and tri-coloured plumes; while the sun, that ever-present guest at the fêtes of Napoleon, that radiant illustrator of the pomps and vanities of the empire, casts its vivid reflections upon the golden embroideries, the brass and bronze of the cannon, helmets, cuirasses, and the sixty thousand bayonets bristling the tumultuous field.
By degrees, the troops, arriving with hurried march at the appointed spot, continue to force backward, in a wild semi-circle of retreat, the crowds of curious spectators, broken up like the rippling billows of the ocean, by the progress of one enormous wave; while a few horsemen charging along the line, proceed to clear the field for action.
The village is now deserted; the gay tents are struck, the trestles removed, the songs and clamours reduced to silence. On all sides are to be seen, scattered along the vast circuit of the plane, men interrupted in their sport or repast, and women dragging away their children, terrified by the flashing sabres, or loud neighing of the chargers.
It is no difficult matter to discern, by attentively examining the countenances of the men still collected under the same colours, towhichamong them the orders of the general-in-chief, Marshal Lannes, has assigned, in the coming fray, the glory of victory—towhichthe duty of being vanquished; while the gallant marshal himself, followed by a numerousétat major, is seen tracing and reconnoitring the ground, onwhich it has been already his lot to figure with such distinction. He now distributed to each brigade its part in the coming battle; taking care, however, to omit in the representation the blunders of that great and terrible day, the 14th of June, 1800: for, after all, it is but a delicate flattery in military tactics, a madrigal, composed with salvos of artillery, which is about to be recited in honour of the new sovereign of Italy.
Napoleon reviewing the troops.
Napoleon reviewing the troops.
Napoleon reviewing the troops.
The troops now proceed to form into line, deploy, and form again, at the word of command; when military symphonies are heard from the side of Alexandria; vague murmurs increase from the mass of human population, which, protected by the streams of the Tanaro, the Bormida, the Orba, and the ravines of Tortona, form the moving girdle of the vast arena. Suddenly, the drums beat to arms; cries and huzzas burst from amid circling clouds of dust; sabres glitter in the sunshine; muskets are shouldered, as if by a mechanical movement; while a brilliant equipage, drawn by eight noble horses, caparisoned and emblazoned with the arms of Italy and France, conveys to the foot of their throne, the Emperor and Empress—Napoleon and Josephine.
The Emperor, after receiving homage from all the deputations of Italy, the envoys of Lucca, Genoa, Florence, Rome, and even Prussia, mounts impatiently on horseback; and, instantaneously, the whole plain is overspread with fire and smoke.
Such were the sports of the youthful hero! War for his pastime, war for the accomplishment of his puissant destinies! Nothing less than war could satisfy that ardent temperament, formed for conquest and supremacy, to which the subjugation of the whole world would alone have left an hour of leisure!
An officer, appointed by the Emperor, stood explaining to Josephine, as she sat solitary on her throne, half terrified by the spectacle before her, the meaning of the various manœuvres, and the object of every evolution. He showed her the Austrian general, Melas, expelling the French from the villageof Marengo, overpowering them at Pietra-Buona, at Castel-Ceriola; and Bonaparte suddenly arresting him in the midst of his victorious career, with only nine hundred men of the consular guard. Her attention was next directed to one of the most important movements of the battle.
The republicans appear to be giving way, when Desaix suddenly appears on the Tortona road; and the terrible Hungarian column, under Zach, marches to meet him. But, while the officer was yet speaking, Josephine’s attention is diverted from the military movements by a sort of confusion around her; on demanding the cause of which, she is informed that “a young girl, having imprudently cleared the line of military operations, at the risk of being crushed by the artillery, or trampled by charges of cavalry, is creating farther confusion by her obstinacy in pressing towards the presence of her majesty, the Empress-Queen.”