Marengo

by T E Crowdy

  ‘This manner of irregularising the march of the divisions had the advantage of speeding their movements and of deceiving the spies of the enemy; for an agent of Melas, who left Milan to make his report, two days after our entry, what would he have seen? What could he have brought back? The French army was almost entirely between Milan and Lodi. The vanguard had already passed the Adda and was heading for Cremona. But in a day the scene had changed. General Murat, from Lodi, where he had marched, had made the head of the column turn right on Piacenza.’17

  It appears more than coincidence that Duhesme discusses what an ‘agent of Melas’ might have discovered leaving Milan two days after the French entry into the city. One suspects Gioelli had to pass through Duhesme’s troops on his way to cross over to the right bank of the Po using the bridge at Piacenza. To give way to fancy, one can imagine the Italian spy riding up to Duhesme’s sentinels and showing the passport issued to him by the First Consul; and then a few hours later, producing a second passport at the Austrian outposts, this time signed by Zach. Such was the life of a Napoleonic double spy.

  Chapter 7

  The Fall of Genoa

  The siege of Genoa proved one of the unhappiest episodes of the Napoleonic Wars. On being blockaded, Massena had declared he would rather die under the rubble of Genoa than surrender it. The city had a population of perhaps 90,000 souls in 1800. Massena’s garrison numbered 9,600 men, with a further 18,000 sick and wounded in the city’s hospitals. Against him was FML Ott with a covering force of 24,000 men, and of course the ships of the British Royal Navy which blockaded the port from the sea. The city defences were so extensive, Ott was unable to batter a breach and mount an assault, so resorted to war by starvation rather than bullets.

  Massena received limited intelligence from the outside world during the siege. He pinned his hopes on the Army of the Reserve arriving by 30 May; which meant holding out for forty days. At the outset of the siege, the city had sufficient grain and pulse for fourteen days. A search of the city recovered enough for an additional fourteen days, and a few local merchant ships were able to break the naval blockade. The French also mounted raids to capture supplies where they could, sometimes followed by civilians who harvested grass outside the city for making soup. On 14 May, Massena made one last effort to counter-attack against the Austrian positions around the city, but it had failed and General Soult was captured on the slopes of Monte Creto. The city was then bombarded by Neapolitan gunboats through the night. Terrorised and angry, people fled the harbour quarter and ran into the city squares. Fearing an uprising, Massena was forced to place artillery in the squares to prevent large assemblies.

  By 20 May, supplies were so low that bread was withheld from the civilian population and became the sole preserve of soldiers manning the walls. The only meat came from the horses in the city (even those suffering from disease), including those belonging to the officers. Once the horses were consumed, the city’s cats, dogs and eventually the rats fell victim to the knife. As a daily ration, the soldiers received just a quarter of a pound of horseflesh and a similar ration of horrible bread. To ensure the grain lasted longer, this bread was made from a sickening mixture of flour, sawdust, starch, hair powder, oatmeal, linseed, rancid nuts and cocoa. Straw was taken from the floors of the hospitals and added to the mix. The soldiers dragged chairs up onto the city walls as they were too malnourished to stand all day. The only thing which saved them was the continued availability of wine. As for the Genoese, they made do with boiled leaves, grass and nettles, seasoned with salt. Great vats of soup were cooked in the public squares for those too sick to cook for themselves. Once the gardens were stripped of vegetation, they boiled old bones, leather and other skins. Up to 400 people were dying every day from starvation and disease, so a mass grave was opened behind the Carignano Church, and the corpses covered with quicklime to prevent the spread of disease. It was an absolutely desperate situation, and when 30 May came and went with no sign of Bonaparte’s army, Massena finally began to contemplate his options. On 1 June, the French commander notified the Austrians he wished to negotiate.

  Generals Ott and Schellenberg were with Colonel de Best at Stutterheim’s lodgings when this news arrived. The four of them were overcome with joy. The siege had been so long and terrible, they felt it might never end. They had just begun debating the terms on which they would negotiate with the ‘stubborn’ Massena, when the door to Stutterheim’s quarters flew open revealing Major Funk, commander of the artillery in Ott’s corps. The major’s face was pale and he held some papers in his hand. ‘Clear out of Savona; spike the guns; throw the ammunition in the sea,’ he stammered.

  The papers were snatched out of Funk’s hand and passed round the room by the dumbfounded occupants. They were a series of orders from the artillery directorate instructing Funk to evacuate Savona. These orders were followed by a message from Elsnitz to Ott, dated Breglio, 31 May. It indicated he was evacuating the Riviera, heading in the direction of the Col di Braus with less than 9,000 men. As they pondered these messages, orders arrived from imperial headquarters. Two letters from Melas in Turin, dated 31 May, were handed over. The first began:

  ‘Now the enemy has also broken out from the St Gotthard and Simplon passes with a significant column, which has come from Germany and has already driven FML Vukassovich back, I am forced to abandon the whole Riviera and lift the blockade of Genoa.’1

  The order explained Elsnitz had been ordered to retreat via Cuneo to Alessandria, and cavalry patrols were being sent along the coast to inform all Austrian detachments to concentrate. Ott was instructed to send Gottesheim’s brigade to Piacenza with all speed via Bobbio, to garrison the citadel and hold the bridgehead over the Po there. In terms of breaking off the siege at Genoa, Melas’ instructions were somewhat muddled:

  ‘During your retreat, the Bochetta must be garrisoned, the first march will happen at night; the rearguard can only depart at dawn and must halt on the Bochetta, in order to protect the entire retreat. I will still be able to stay here for a few days; consequently the retreat is not necessary immediately. Consequently, this decision is to be kept most secret in the hope Genoa will still surrender.’2

  The second letter, dated midday on 31 March, was somewhat contradictory to this:

  ‘From my previous missive, Your Excellency will know the blockade of Genoa must be lifted. From the present letter, Your Excellency is ordered to effect your retreat into the plain of Alessandria immediately.’3

  Pausing for breath, Stutterheim and de Best took stock of the situation. They now knew the French had descended from Switzerland in force, with confirmation more troops were arriving from Germany. They also knew Elsnitz was withdrawing from the Var and appeared to be under some pressure. However, Elsnitz would not arrive in Alessandria until 10 June, and so, if the objective was to concentrate the army, Ott still had some time to conclude negotiations with Massena before withdrawing. Melas had clearly written these instructions before he knew Massena was about to yield the city. Stutterheim indicates they sat in his room and weighed up the risks before replying at ten in the evening:

  ‘I have just received Your Excellency’s two orders of 31st May, which order me to lift the blockade of Genoa. Some hours ago, I sent a courier to Your Excellency with the response of General Massena, who appears to wish to enter into a capitulation.

  ‘I presume that FML Elsnitz has begun his retreat today. If the enemy in that area marches off towards here it is certainly impossible for them to reach this area before the 5th; thus I intend to remain here for tomorrow and the day after, and to start my withdrawal on the night of the 3rd/4th, so I can arrive in [the] area around Alessandria on the 6th.’4

  Ott turned to his staff officers and warned them to maintain the greatest silence over what had happened in Stutterheim’s room; outwardly they would carry on as normal and tell no-one. It was clear, however, that a deal had to be done with Massena by 4 June at the latest.

  The Austrians knew the negotia
tions with Massena would be difficult, and they did not start well. A rendezvous was arranged at Rivarolo. Ott was represented by de Best, the British Admiral Lord Keith by Flag Captain Beaver. Massena sent Adjudant General Andrieux to represent him. The Austrians put on some musical entertainment for the French officers who accompanied Andrieux. At the time, Austrian military bands played a style of music known as ‘Turkish’. This was based on the music of the Ottoman Janissaries and was typically a high-tempo march, with a great deal of percussion, shrill woodwind and horns. As the band struck up, the famished Frenchmen defending nearby Fort Tenaglia assumed the Austrians were advancing to attack the valley below them. The Frenchmen opened fire and the Austrian gunners replied in kind. Down in the valley below, clarinets were thrown asunder and everyone at the rendezvous scattered. Andrieux had his horse shot from under him before anyone could send word to cease firing.

  When the conference finally resumed, each of the emissaries stated the opening negotiating position. Massena had told Andrieux he would be willing to evacuate Genoa, but if the word ‘capitulation’ was mentioned, negotiations were to cease. There would be no surrender on his part. This wasn’t necessarily a problem for the Austrians. If they had to take the garrison into captivity, this would require guarding forces, and their key objective was to take possession of the port as swiftly as possible. However, there were still a number of important details which needed to be decided. Negotiations were put off until 7.00 am the following day. This was to provide time for the emissaries to notify their superiors of the various opening positions.

  On 3 June, Andrieux offered the first draft of a convention. Reading the detail, Massena wanted all the French shipping in the harbour to go free. The Austrian and British representatives stated that the ships must be taken as prizes. Furthermore, while the allies were content with the garrison returning to France, they wanted Massena to become a prisoner of war. Lord Keith had apparently said the French general was worth 20,000 men. No one would budge on the point, and so the emissaries agreed the only course of action was to arrange a meeting between Massena, Keith and Ott to let them finalize the terms of the evacuation in person. A meeting was set for the following day at the small chapel in the middle of the Cornigliano bridge on the western approaches to the city.

  The continued negotiations were a boon to Massena. Every day he could delay the inevitable was a day won for the First Consul. Massena had no real idea what was taking place outside the city walls, but he did know the reserve army was now in Italy and he could still cling to the hope of a relief. At the same time, he knew 4 June would be the final day of resistance. There were no more rations for his soldiers after that. Resistance after this date would condemn his men and the civilians to death by starvation. Meanwhile, Ott wrote to Melas advising him negotiations had begun, but one or two more days were needed to conclude them. Ott asked Melas whether he ought to continue with the talks or evacuate Genoa immediately? He awaited his response.

  When Melas received Ott’s two letters dated 1 June, he had naturally been ecstatic at the news Genoa might fall. He responded at once:

  ‘Your Excellency’s note of the 1st June which has just reached me, gives me the most joyous expectation of being able to gain Genoa by capitulation.

  ‘The order sent by me at the end of the past month was based on raising the blockade. Consequently, I can only nurture the pleasant hope that Your Excellency will have left no opportunity unused in these changed circumstances, which could lead to our capture of Genoa. Therefore, if by now the negotiations are not concluded or broken off, you are to do everything possible and to give whatever conditions, in order just to take us into possession of the city, which in the present moment not only provides us with the desirable advantage in terms of occupying it immediately, but also lets us obtain the great gain, that Massena with so many thousands of men no longer stands in the way of our operations, and consequently your march to the army cannot be hindered.’5

  Melas then outlined how after the negotiations were concluded, Ott would rejoin the army at Alessandria, before moving against the French who were seemingly advancing against the Hereditary Lands. After writing this letter to Ott, Melas wrote another letter, this time to GM Mosel at Alessandria. This general was to move at once to Piacenza and take control of the city, making every effort to garrison the citadel and, most importantly of all, the bridge over the Po by which Melas’ army was going to attack the rear of Bonaparte’s army.6

  On 4 June, the interview with Massena took place. The French commander gave off an air of apparent gaiety at the proceedings. He certainly did not appear as a man whose army was on the brink of starvation and ruin. He attempted to come between the British and Austrian negotiators, taking them to one side in turn and talking secretly with them. He flattered Keith, telling him Britain and France could govern the world if they could only come to an understanding. He mocked the Austrians, telling Keith if he would allow just one boat of grain to enter Genoa, the Austrians would never set foot in the place. Keith, for his part, humoured Massena. He told him on several occasions, ‘General, the defence you have made has been so heroic, that it is impossible to refuse you anything you ask.’ In fact, despite the praise he lavished on Massena, Keith later concluded the French general was ‘the greatest brute in all Christendom’.7

  By the end of the negotiation, it was agreed Massena’s army would march out with its arms and baggage in the direction of Nice. When it rejoined Suchet’s troops, it would become active again. Two last points of contention remained. The first was that Massena wanted to send two messengers to Bonaparte informing him Genoa had been evacuated. This would be a crucial piece of intelligence to the First Consul, because it meant up to an additional 25,000 Austrians were now free to commence operations against the Army of the Reserve. Naturally enough, Ott did not want to allow this, but Keith talked him round to it. The second point was the ships in the harbour, particularly those loaded with Massena’s private possessions. In the end, the allies conceded these points. Referring to the shipping, Keith told Massena: ‘Though law forbids me from allowing any vessels to leave an enemy port, let us speak of them no more, I will make you a present of them on my part.’

  One final drama was to arise. At the moment Massena was about to put pen to paper, there was a sound like gunfire rumbling from the direction of the Bochetta Pass. Massena leapt up, declaring: ‘Here comes the First Consul with his army!’ The French general threw down his pen and returned to the city, leaving Keith and Ott standing dumbstruck. In fact it was only thunder, and Massena eventually returned to sign the treaty.

  As Austrian troops took possession of the Lanterne (lighthouse) Gate, a terrible spectacle took place. Several thousand Austrian prisoners had been incarcerated on hulks in the harbour a few weeks before and had suffered the most miserable plight. At the beginning of the siege, when the French had captured Austrian soldiers, they had returned them on parole. While the officers observed this parole, Massena believed the soldiers were simply returned to the ranks and were being sent to fight again, the result being that soldiers were captured and released numerous times. Massena wrote to Ott and complained he felt he had little choice but to place all prisoners on hulks in the harbour, with artillery trained on them in lieu of the guards he could not spare. In addition, he said the prisoners would receive exactly half of the daily ration given to French soldiers, which would amount to an eighth of a pound of poor quality bread (approximately 200 calories) and the same amount of horsemeat (150 calories). Massena invited Ott to send food to supplement these rations, but this was suspected of being a ruse in order to obtain food for the French garrison. The result of this impasse was that the soldiers starved. Marbot stated in his memoirs that the prisoners yelled with rage at their hunger, eating their shoes and knapsacks in desperation – cannibalism was also rumoured.

  Stutterheim confirms their unhappy plight, adding that they ate the ropes on the ships, their helmets and equipment straps. They descended into
mad laughter and some threw themselves into the sea in attempt to end their suffering, but were plucked out of the water by the French and returned to the hulks. According to Stutterheim, Massena made an example of the prisoners after a prisoner transfer in which the Austrians secured the release of Austrian soldiers, but gave Massena in return non-combatant hospital workers and commissaries. Apparently, Zach was the instigator of this ruse, and as Stutterheim acknowledges, no commander of a besieged place would want ‘useless bread-eaters’ when there was already a lack of food. When Massena took 3,000 prisoners at the action of Monte Fascio on 11 May, he consigned these men to the hulks. Ott agreed to provide these men with food, Stutterheim contested, but only in a neutral place where they could be sure the food was not being distributed to French soldiers. Stutterheim was aghast when he saw the prisoners released:

  ‘For centuries, among civilized nations, unfortunates were never so much injured as these. The sight of these wretches, when they were brought out of the fortress, was miserable and outrageous. Hardly one man in ten was able to walk alone. Holding on to the walls, these pale corpses crept, death on their lips. Many had lost their speech; others lost their sight or hearing. More than a hundred fell dead on the wayside to Cornegliano. The food they had given them could no longer save them. Only a few, who, with the most strength, were fortunate enough to come to the care of kind hearted and sensible people, who gradually brought the patients round with warming and nourishing food, escaped from the death which struck others more certainly, the hastier they reached out for food. I myself saw several of them give up the ghost with a piece of meat or bread between their teeth, which they were no longer able to chew. As splendid as Massena’s defence of Genoa was, this cruelty against those innocents filled the heart of every man with disgust.’8