Napoleon. Vincent Cronin

write you this letter: it would be so easy to accuse me of ambition and pride!’

      The Directors considered Napoleon’s answers. They were doubtless nettled by his obstinacy, but they could not help but be impressed by his arguments. Moreover, the implicit threat to resign, after such a string of victories, must have weighed heavily with them. They decided to scrap the idea of a joint command. Napoleon was to remain sole commander, but in that case he must carry out single-handed the two tasks they had originally proposed.

      Napoleon was much relieved. At the beginning of June he learned that Marshal Wurmser, a Frenchman from Alsace in the service of Austria, had left the Rhine with a large Austro-Hungarian army, and was marching south to drive him out of Italy. Napoleon calculated that Wurmser could not arrive before 15 July. That gave him six weeks to swoop on the Papal States and Tuscany, frighten them into neutrality, and collect what gold he could for France’s empty coffers.

      Napoleon had marched fast in the spring, but that summer he marched even faster. Recrossing the Po, he entered the northernmost part of the Papal States, Emilia-Romagna, scattered the papal army of 18,000 men, entered Florence and seized Leghorn, an important English commercial and banking enclave. Here he captured ships and gold. He also equipped the 500 Corsican refugees in Leghorn, and organized an expedition which by the end of the year was to make Corsica once again French. On 13 July he was back in Milan, having marched 300 miles in under six weeks, cowed all central Italy, and seized, in booty and indemnities, forty million francs, mainly gold.

      Napoleon had meanwhile been watching the Austrians closely. Wurmser had crossed the Brenner and was moving down the valley of the River Adige with a huge army – 50,000 men. At Castiglione Napoleon defeated each wing in turn. Wurmser tried again in September, only to be repulsed at Roveredo and Bassano. Then, two months later, a fresh Austro-Hungarian army, this time under Alvinzi, swept into Italy, and Napoleon with his tired troops crushed it at Areola.

      At Areola, like Lodi a battle for a bridge, Napoleon had his horse shot under him. Maddened by its wound, the horse seized the bit between its teeth, galloped towards the Austro-Hungarians and plunged into a swamp. Napoleon was thrown, and found himself shoulder deep, in the black swamp mud, under heavy enemy fire. At any moment he expected the Austrians to charge and cut off his head – he could offer no resistance. But his brother Louis had been watching and with another young officer named August Marmont dashed into the swamp and succeeded in dragging out Napoleon. This, Napoleon considered, was one of the most dangerous moments in all his battles.

      Barras and his fellow Directors, meanwhile, had their eyes fixed on Napoleon. They were pleased by the arrival of forty million francs, but worried by Napoleon’s tendency to take an independent line. First there had been the treaty with Piedmont, judged too moderate; then his high-handed attitude over Kellermann; and now there were reports that he was snubbing Saliceti and Garrau, the Directors’ own representatives. Napoleon had denied being ‘ambitious’ – most hateful of words – but how sincere was that denial? It might be necessary to arrest him for political ‘ambition’, like two earlier commanders of the same army. They decided to send a general of proved loyalty to find out. Officially his job would be to arrange an armistice; in fact he had orders to spy on Napoleon.

      Henri Clarke, aged thirty-one, was an honest desk general of Irish descent with moon face, curls and double chin. He arrived at Napoleon’s headquarters in November and with a shrewd eye began taking notes. Berthier, he observed, had high moral standards and took no interest in politics; Massena was brave, but slack about discipline and ‘very fond of money’. As for Napoleon, Clarke gave this word-picture: ‘haggard, thin, the skin clinging to his bones, eyes bright with fever’ – he had caught a chill after his ordeal at Areola. For nine days Clarke secretly observed the commander-in-chief and then sent back the following report:

      He is feared, loved and respected in Italy. I believe he is attached to the republic and without any ambition save to retain the reputation he has won. It is a mistake to think he is a party man. He belongs neither to the royalists, who slander him, nor to the anarchists, whom he dislikes. He has only one guide – the Constitution … But General Buonaparte is not without defects. He does not spare his men sufficiently … Sometimes he is hard, impatient, abrupt or imperious. Often he demands difficult things in too hasty a manner. He has not been respectful enough towards the Government commissioners. When I reproved him for this, he replied that he could not possibly treat otherwise men who were universally scorned for their immorality and incapacity.

      What Napoleon had in mind was that Saliceti ruthlessly pillaged churches and sold in the streets, on his own account, chalices and ciboriums containing consecrated hosts. This set a bad example at a time when Napoleon was doing everything possible to curb even minor looting. Clarke recognized that Napoleon’s attitude to the commissioners was justified, for he added: ‘Saliceti has the reputation of being the most shameless rogue in the army and Garrau is inefficient: neither is suitable for the Army of Italy.’

      When they read Clarke’s report, the Directors decided that their suspicions about Napoleon were unfounded. They promised him their full support, and in their letters and orders showed renewed confidence in whatever decisions he might take. This renewal of confidence came just in time, for Napoleon was now facing his gravest threat. Having beaten Beaulieu’s army, and Wurmser’s two Austro-Hungarian armies, he was now being attacked by a fourth and a fifth.