To Paris he sent his brilliant cavalry-officer, Murat, with twenty-one flags taken from the enemy. To his troops he issued a stirring address, recounting their great achievements, and inspiring them to still greater efforts.
With hands freed, Napoleon turned upon the Austrians. Deceiving them as to the point at which he would cross the Po, they prepared for him at one place while he dashed at another. While Beaulieu waited at Valenza, Napoleon was crossing at Placenza, May 7, 1796. On the next day an Austrian division arrived at Fombio, a league from Placenza. Napoleon attacked and routed it, taking two thousand prisoners and all their cannon. Beaulieu put his troops in motion, hoping to catch the French in the act of crossing the river.
As the Austrians, preceded by a regiment of cavalry, approached, they struck the advance posts of Laharpe. That general rode forward to reconnoitre, and, returning by a different road, was fired upon and killed by his own troops, in almost precisely the same manner as the great Confederate soldier, Stonewall Jackson, was slain at Chancellorsville.
The Austrians, realizing that they were too late, drew off toward Lodi. On May 10, Napoleon overtook them there. The town was on that side of the river Adda on which were the French, and Napoleon drove out the small detachment of Austrians which held it.
On the opposite side of the river Beaulieu had stationed twelve thousand infantry, two thousand horse, and twenty cannon to dispute the passage. A single wooden bridge, which the retreating Austrians had not had time to burn, spanned the river. In the face of an army sixteen thousand strong, and twenty pieces of artillery ready to rain a torrent of iron on the bridge, Napoleon determined to pass. Behind the walls of the town of Lodi the French army was sheltered. Napoleon, under fire, went out to the bank of the river to explore the ground and form his plan. Returning, he selected six thousand grenadiers, and to these he spoke brief words of praise and encouragement, holding them ready, screened behind the houses of the town, to dash for the bridge at the word. But he had also sent his cavalry up the stream to find a ford to cross, and to come upon the Austrian flank. Meanwhile his own artillery rained a hail of deadly missiles upon the Austrian position, making it impossible for them to approach the bridge. The anxious eyes of Napoleon at last saw that his cavalry had forded the river, and were turning the Austrians’ flank. Quick as a flash the word went to the waiting grenadiers, and with a shout of “Live the Republic,” they ran for the bridge. A terrific fire from the Austrian batteries played upon the advancing column, and the effect was so deadly that it hesitated, wavered, seemed about to break. The French generals sprang to the front,—Napoleon, Lannes, Masséna, Berthier, Cervoni,—rallied the column, and carried it over the bridge. Lannes was the first man across, Napoleon the second. The Austrian gunners were bayoneted before the infantry could come to their support. In a few minutes the Austrian army was routed.
The moral effect of this victory, “the terrible passage of the bridge of Lodi,” as Napoleon himself called it, was tremendous. Beaulieu afterward told Graham that had Napoleon pushed on, he might have taken Mantua without difficulty—no preparations for its defence having then been made. The Austrians lost heart, uncovered Milan in their retreat; and, five days after the battle, Napoleon entered the Lombard capital, under a triumphal arch and amid thousands of admiring Italians.
It was after this battle that some of the soldiers got together and gave Napoleon the name of the “Little Corporal,” an affectionate nickname which clung to him, in the army, throughout his career. His personal bravery at Lodi, and his readiness to share the danger, made a profound impression on his troops, and when he next appeared he was greeted with shouts of “Live the Little Corporal.”
Napoleon asked a Hungarian prisoner, an old officer, what he now thought of the war. The prisoner, not knowing that Napoleon himself was the questioner, replied: “There is no understanding it at all. You French have a young general who knows nothing about the rules of war. To-day he is in your front, to-morrow in the rear. Now he is on your left, and then on your right. One does not know where to place one’s self. Such violation of the rules is intolerable.”
Upon the victor himself Lodi made a lasting impression; it was the spark, as he said afterward, “which kindled a great ambition.” Already Napoleon had begun to levy contributions and to seize precious works of art. The Duke of Parma, pleading for peace and protection, had been required to pay $400,000, to furnish sixteen hundred horses and large quantities of provisions. His gallery was stripped of twenty of its best paintings, one of which was the “Jerome” of Correggio. The Duke offered $200,000 to redeem this painting, but Napoleon refused. The offence which this duke had committed was his adhesion to the coalition against France, and his contributing three thousand soldiers to aid in the glorious work of maintaining feudalism.
In France the effect of Napoleon’s victories upon the excitable, glory-loving people was prodigious. His name was on every tongue. Crowds gathered around the bulletins, and the streets rang with acclamations. Murat and Junot, bringing to Paris the captured colors, were given enthusiastic ovations by government and people. But the Directors began to be uneasy. They would have been more or less than human had they relished the autocratic manner in which Napoleon behaved. He had ignored their plans and their instructions. He had developed an imperiousness which brooked no control. His fame was dwarfing all others to an extent which gave rise to unpleasant forebodings. All things considered, the Directors thought it would be a good idea to divide the Italian command. To that effect they wrote Napoleon. In reply he offered to resign. A partner he would not have: he must be chief, or nothing. The Directors dared not make such an issue with him at a time when all France was in raptures over his triumphs; and they yielded.