A Conspiracy of the Carbonari by Louise Mühlbach


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Page 2

At the awful spectacle the whole French army uttered cries of anguish, the
Austrians shouts of joy.

Vainly did Napoleon himself ride through the ranks, calling in the beloved
voice that usually kindled enthusiasm so promptly: "I myself ordered the
destruction of the bridges, that you might have no choice between glorious
victory or inevitable destruction."

For the first time his soldiers doubted the truth of his words and did not
answer with the exultant cheer, "_Vive l' Empereur_."

But they fought on bravely, furiously, desperately! And Napoleon, with his
pallid iron countenance, remained with his troops, to watch everything,
direct every movement, encourage his men, and give the necessary orders.
His generals and aids surrounded him, listening respectfully though with
gloomy faces to every word which fell, weighty and momentous as a sentence
of death, from the white, compressed lips. But a higher power than Napoleon
was sending its decrees of death even into the group of generals gathered
around the master of the world; cannon balls had no reverence for the
C�sar's presence; they tore from his side his dearest friend, his faithful
follower, Marshal Lannes; they killed Generals St. Hilaire, Albuquerque and
d'Espagne, the leaders of his brave troops, the curassiers, three thousand
of whom remained that day on the battlefield; they wounded Marshal Massena,
Marshal Bessi�res, and six other valiant generals.

When evening came the battle was decided. Archduke Charles was the victor;
the French army was forced back to the island of Lobau, whose bridges had
been severed by the burning ships; the triumphant Austrians were encamped
around Esslingen and Aspern, whose unknown names have been illumined since
that day with eternal renown.

The island of Lobau presented a terrible chaos of troops, horses, wounded
men, artillery, corpses and luggage; the wounded and dying wailed and
moaned, the uninjured fairly shrieked and roared with fury. And, as if
Nature wished to add her bold alarum to the mournful dirge of men, the
storm-lashed waves of the Danube thundered around the island, dashed their
foam-crested surges on the shore, and, in many places, created crimson
lakes where, instead of boats, blood-stained bodies floated with yawning
wounds. It seemed as if the Styx had flowed to Lobau to spare the ferryman
Charon the arduous task of conveying so many corpses to the nether world,
and for the purpose transformed itself into a single vast funeral barge.

Napoleon, the victor of so many battles, the man before whom all Europe
trembled, all the kings of the world bowed in reverence and admiration; he
who, with a wave of his hand, had overturned and founded dynasties, was now
forced to witness all this--compelled to suffer and endure like any
ordinary mortal!

He sat on a log near the shore, both elbows propped on his knees, and his
pale iron face supported by his small white hands, glittering with
diamonds, gazing at the roaring waves of the Danube and the throng of human
beings who surrounded him.

Behind him, in gloomy silence, stood his generals--he did not notice them.
His soldiers marched before him--he did not heed them. But they saw him,
and turned from him to the mountains of corpses, to the moaning wounded
men, the pools of blood which everywhere surrounded them, then gazed once
more at him whom they were wont to hail exultingly as their hero, their
earthly god, and whom to-day, for the first time, they execrated; whom in
the fury of their grief they even ventured to accuse and to scorn.

But he did not hear. He heard naught save the voices in his own breast, to
whose gloomy words the wails and groans of the wounded formed a horrible
chorus.

Suddenly he rose slowly, and turning toward Marshal Bessi�res, who, with
his wounded arm in a sling, stood nearest to him, Napoleon pointed to the
river.

"To Ebersdorf!" he said, in his firm, imperious voice. "You will accompany
me, marshal. You too, gentlemen," he added, turning to the captured
Austrian General Weber, and the Russian General Czernitschef, who had
arrived at Napoleon's headquarters the day before the battle on a special
mission from the Czar Alexander, and been a very inopportune witness of his
defeat.

The two generals bowed silently and followed the emperor, who went hastily
down to the shore. A boat with four oarsmen lay waiting for him, and his
two valets, Constant and Roustan, stood beside the skiff to help the
emperor enter.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 29th Mar 2024, 10:10