The vast space between the Bormida and the ground over which the army was now retreating was covered with the dead bodies of men and horses, dismounted cannon and shattered ammunition wagons. Here and there rose columns 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 only three 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 more at 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-camp was sent to hasten the arrival of Desaix’s guns. His troops were advancing rapidly, and were scarcely half a mile from the field of battle. Their line of approach seemed formed for the purpose at hand; on the left of the road was a gigantic perpendicular hedge protected by a bank. The infantry was made to file in a narrow line along it, and it even hid the cavalry from view.