Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 877 - 785: Napoleon's Courage and Insight
The staff cautiously reconfirmed, “Are you saying, including the reserve troops?”
Napoleon pointed with his horsewhip toward the open area directly facing the wooden bridge: “That’s right, including the reserve troops, even the engineer company—everyone is to gather there.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Half an hour later, nearly ten thousand French Army soldiers lined up in neat three-column formations along the banks of the Po River.
To their left flank, the artillery company’s 14 cannons began firing shells toward the opposite shore. However, due to the long distance, many shells fell into the river.
The Austrian Army on the eastern bank could only see flashes of fire amid the dense smoke, and the rumble of cannons echoed in their ears. The murderous atmosphere of the battlefield was palpable.
Shortly after, Major Victor and Captain Grouchy, acting commander of the cavalry camp, arrived in front of Napoleon.
“Commander, the grenadier company and cavalry camp have completed their assembly.” Victor stood at attention and saluted, then glanced at the spectacle along the riverbank. “Are we about to launch a full assault?”
Grouchy added nervously, “But the boats for crossing the river are not yet ready. Attacking now would be…”
“No, no one said we’re launching an assault across the river.” Napoleon waved his hand to interrupt him and then turned to Victor.
“Major Victor, prepare the cavalry and grenadiers for a rapid march.
“Hmm, perhaps we should give General Meiras the attention he deserves. Draw another thousand veteran soldiers from the infantry regiment to accompany us.”
“Ah? A rapid march?” Victor froze briefly but quickly raised his voice, “Yes, I’ll do it immediately!”
Napoleon watched the two men depart and then turned to the few administrative officers beside him, quickly selecting one: “Lieutenant Marseillan, I recall you used to be a lawyer?”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Then your eloquence must be excellent?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say excellent, but I have indeed undergone professional speech training.”
“Very good. I hereby appoint you as the negotiating representative. Cross the river and urge the Austrians to surrender.” Napoleon glanced at his uniform, “Remember to change into a field officer’s outfit.”
“Negotiation? Me?” Lieutenant Marseillan looked somewhat bewildered; he was just an ordinary clerk.
He steadied himself, taking out pen and paper to prepare notes: “Alright, okay. Please tell me, what terms should we offer?”
Taking the reins from his attendant, Napoleon replied without looking back, “Say whatever you want, as long as the negotiations drag on.”
“But…”
Burdened with sudden responsibility, Marseillan, full of unease, tried to ask more questions, only to see Napoleon’s figure disappearing into the distance.
Four o’clock in the afternoon.
Napoleon left Marmon to command the main forces in a standoff with the Austrians, while he personally led 3,000 soldiers rapidly southward along the Po River.
The six to seven thousand Austrian soldiers on the opposite shore appeared exhausted, showing no inclination to attack. Marmon’s primary task was to create an air of dominance and assert their presence.
Victor shook the reins lightly, urging his mount forward to keep pace with Napoleon. Lowering his voice, he asked with a sideways glance, “Commander, where are we headed?”
A calm expression crossed Napoleon’s face: “To Milan, of course.”
“Milan?” Victor looked back at the main forces, now too far away to be seen clearly, and exclaimed in surprise, “With so few men…”
“It’s enough.” Napoleon smiled faintly. “If I’m correct, Meiras must have already diverted the majority of his forces to Genoa to besiege General Demobin. The troops left behind in Milan should be significantly fewer in number.
“Moreover, the officer commanding Milan’s defenses seems plainly reluctant to engage us in direct combat and has pushed his defensive line far toward this side of the Po River.
“In other words, whatever limited forces Milan possesses are now here on the opposite shore. The city itself is virtually unguarded.
“With 3,000 men—no, even initially planned with only 2,000—it will be more than enough to seize the city.”
Victor’s eyes widened in shock: “Then how are we crossing the river?”
“Lodi.”
Victor immediately understood.
Lodi is to the south of Milan, where the Ticino River merges into the Po River. From there, crossing the Po River alone suffices, avoiding the hassle of traversing the Ticino River as well.
However, another concern quickly arose in his mind, and he turned to Napoleon, asking, “Commander, it’s nearly 70 kilometers from here to Lodi, and Austrian soldiers are scattered everywhere along the way. If they report our movements to Milan, wouldn’t this march be wasted?”
“No need to worry.” Napoleon pointed at the Po River with his horsewhip. “Why do the Austrians set up defenses along the river? It’s because they want to exploit the flooding season, as the Po’s waters are currently raging, making crossing extremely difficult for our army.
“But they failed to realize that the turbulent waters hinder communication too.
“No one would risk being swept away by the current to deliver potentially useless information to the other side.
“So, as long as we move quickly, Milan won’t notice a thing.”
Victor’s eyes now held only admiration.
He also thought of an advantage Napoleon hadn’t mentioned: this segment of the Po River between Valenza and Lodi forms an “L” shape. At the bend, the river’s current slows significantly, and by the time it reaches Lodi, the flow has already become relatively moderate.
This substantially eases the difficulty of crossing the river. With a simple pontoon bridge, soldiers, horses, and cannons can be transported across.
If they were trying to cross at Valenza, where the current is ferocious, this would be absolutely impossible.
Napoleon glanced sideways at the troops, dissatisfied with their marching pace. Frowning thoughtfully, he issued orders to the staff beside him.
The staff member promptly turned his horse around and called out loudly to the soldiers, “Everyone, pick up the pace! The Commander has authorized me to promise you: if we reach Lodi in four days, every soldier will receive a 20-franc bonus. In three days, 35 francs each. If we manage it within two and a half days, each will receive 50 francs!”
The soldiers instantly erupted with cheers.
The marching column seemed propelled by an unseen giant hand, speeding up considerably in an instant.
Bear in mind, soldiers in the Montpellier Legion earned only 11 francs per month in wages. A 50-franc bonus was equivalent to four and a half months’ pure income.
Even the cavalry of Murat’s Corps, who earned a monthly salary of just 28 francs, found this bonus significant. Cavalry often received additional allowances on top of their base infantry pay.
Motivated by substantial rewards, the troops reached the eastern bend of the Po River by twilight the following day.
Now, only 35 kilometers remained to Lodi.
Who said old armies lack marching capability?
They just hadn’t been bribed with enough francs.
When the bonus was right, soldiers would wish they had hooves like donkeys—marching 30 kilometers in a day was no issue!
Two and a half days after Napoleon left Valenza, his 3,000 troops crossed into Poland, occupying Lodi without resistance and setting their sights on Milan, now within easy reach.
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