These contrived to get as far as Pistoia, where, hearing that the garrison had designs upon them, they retired in something of a hurry to Florence.
It was there that Joachim received a communication from Lord William Bentinck to the effect that since he had broken his treaty with Francis he could consider the treaty with England broken as well. He might have expected this piece of information, one would think, but it seems to have depressed him greatly.
The King’s edicts, too, had fallen flat. They had produced, we are told, “promises, applause, poetic effusions, and popular orations, but neither arms nor action; thus furnishing much future work for the police, and nothing for war.”
The forces he had counted upon did not materialize, and Joachim called his Ministers together. These had discovered by now that he never called upon them for advice unless he was in trouble, and their ardour and loyalty were shaken. Still, when he laid the facts before them they gave him the best they had, in the face of the rather desperate circumstances. The army was straggled out over a line between Reggio, Carpi, and Ravenna, without any supports or reserves, in the face of an enemy stronger, numerically and morally, and in their position. One blow might be the end; so Joachim’s advisers recommended him to hold on to the places he had only so long as it would take to send back the sick and the baggage, and then look for some point of attack where the result would be a little less certain.
A few days later the Germans stormed Carpi and chased General Pepes almost as far as Modena, and only Murat’s appearance upon the scene halted the pursuit. On the 15th they seized Spilimberto, the defenders of which retired in considerable disorder to Sant’ Ambrogio. By now, however, the advice of the Council had been carried out, and the remains of the army, unhampered, were able to move about and were directed upon the Reno, Ravenna, and Forlì. The troops upon the Reno were, however, attacked by the Germans and, after a three-hours’ fight, retreated upon Bologna.
Joachim, at Imola, now discovered that the Austrian army had been divided into two parts, one under Bianchi, the other under Neipperg.
The former was advancing by the Florentine Road, the latter by the Strada Emilia, the idea being to enclose Joachim and force him into a general engagement between them. They were divided by the chain of the Apennines, and Murat perceived that Neipperg, at least, was inferior to him. Fired by the memories of ’96, he resolved to attack Bianchi and, if possible, cripple him before Neipperg could come to his assistance, after which he would still be able to fight Neipperg, unless things went very wrong indeed, with superior numbers.
Macerata was Murat’s objective; but it was twenty days’ march for troops who reckoned a day’s work as lightly as did his. For all that, he contrived the retreat with creditable skill in spite of a scuffle with Neipperg near the Roneo.
But when the battle of Macerata was fought, Joachim’s fortune, which had been so shy and fickle of late, deserted him entirely. Though he fought a stubborn enough battle, and though his own dispositions were solid and well thought out, his instruments failed him. General Maio and General Lecchi made little or no attempt to shock their opponents, allowing their men to drift into action anyhow; and as the day waned, and the Neapolitans became too listless even to fire, word came to the king from General Montigny in the Abruzzi, telling him that the Germans had taken Antrodoco and Aquila, that the people were rising for the Bourbons, and that the magistrates had transferred their allegiance, while he and the few faithful men who had remained with him had been forced back to Popoli.
At the same time came a dispatch from the Minister of War, telling him of the enemy’s appearance upon the Liris, of the horrified feelings of the people, and of the helpful activities of the Carbonari in Calabria.