Napoleon as Consul

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter four of the Story of Napoleon the Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall.
This li Bovox recording is in the public domain. Recording
by Patrick Seville. Chapter four Napoleon as Consul. When Napoleon
arrived in France, the people greeted him more joyfully than ever.
They were weary of the rule of the Directory and

(00:23):
longed for a change. Napoleon had never meant to be
a soldier and conqueror. Only he meant to be a
ruler too. He soon saw his chance and took it.
He had been made commander of all the troops round Paris,
and now one day he appeared at the head of
his soldiers in the courtyard of the palace, in which

(00:45):
the French Assembly or Parliament sat, amid a fearful noise
of shouts, beating of drums, and tramp of feet. The
assembly was turned out at the point of the bayonet.
That night, Napoleon slept in the palace of the Luxembourg
with the title of Consul of France. There were three
other consuls, but the others were a mere pretense. Napoleon

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was the true ruler. Napoleon returned from Egypt in October
and by the middle of December he was first consul.
Then for the next few months he gave himself up
to ruling under his firm hand. France, which had been
born and tossed in wild unrest for eight years, now
seemed to find a little calm. But all around the

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borders of France there was war still. Austria and Britain
were her chief enemies. With Britain at this time, Napoleon
would have been glad to make peace, could he have
done so on his own terms. Austria he meant to crush,
and to crush in such a way as would make
Europe ring with the name of Bonaparte. He meant to

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do great deeds at which the world would stare in wonder.
He meant to have peace too. At peace. After victory,
the army of Italy was still fighting under a brave
general called Messina. But now he was shut up in Genoa,
a British fleet bombarding him from the sea, and an
Austrian army surrounding him on land. Food was growing scarce,

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and his men were but worn out skeletons. The Austrians
believed that they should very soon beat him, and then
they would be able to march into France. Napoleon now
gathered an army called the Reserve, with which he gave
out He was going to march to the help of Messina.
But the Austrians laughed at the Reserve army, for it

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was made up of ill fed, half clothed, raw recruits.
Napoleon went to Dijon to review these new recruits, but
he stayed there only two hours and was soon speeding
on his way to Geneva. For three months, Napoleon had
been silently and secretly gathering troops, which by different ways,

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had been sent towards Switzerland. There too, engineers had been
sent to examine the passes through the Alps. Now everything
was ready, and the great commander also went speeding to
the land of snow mountains. When Napoleon arrived at Geneva,
he gathered his engineers around him and began to study

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the map of the Alps. Is it possible to pass,
he asked. It is barely possible, said an engineer. Very well,
replied Napoleon. Let us be going. Then Napoleon began one
of his most famous marches. He crossed the Alps, and
while the enemy awaited him in front, he appeared suddenly

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behind them. The army was divided into four, each part
going by a different way. The ways through the mountains
were called passes. The passes which Napoleon now chose were
a Great Saint Bernard, the Little Saint Bernard, the Mont Sennie,
and the Saint Gothard. Napoleon himself went by the Great

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Saint Bernard. It was a tremendous march, for in places
there was not even a track, and the men had
to stumble as best they could over rough broken stony ground.
Up in tip they struggled for A pass is only
comparatively low. That is low when compared with the huge
mountains near The Great Saint Bernard pass is more than

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eight thousand feet above sea level. It was hard enough
for men laden with knapsack and gun to toil upwards,
but to drag heavy cannon up was still harder. The
path was so terrible that it was found to be
quite impossible to bring them up on their carriages. No
wheels could pass over the grounds, so each cannon was

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taken from its carriage and was put into the trunk
of a tree which had been hollowed out to fit it.
A hundred men were then harness to each tree trunk,
and so the cannon were dragged over snow and ice
along narrow, giddy paths where only the chaumet or the
goatherd had left a track. The carriages were taken to pieces.

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The wheels were slung on poles and carried on men's shoulders.
Food for the army had to be carried too. This
was laden on mules. They were sure footed, hearty beasts,
accustomed to the wild mountain sides, and so could carry
weight even over the rough path. But with the calvalry
horses it was different. The men dismounted and each man

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led his horse as best he could. Thus, for five
days an endless stream of men and horses passed among
the silent hills, churning the white snow into a brown morass,
filling the still air with the hum of voices and
the clank and gangle of steel, awakening the echoes with
the sound of drum and trumpet. On and on went

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the men, slipping, sliding, panting, breathless, hardly daring to pause
in places that slows behind should be thrown into confusion,
stumbling knee deep into snow drifts, clambering round boulders, but
always upward and upward. At last they reached the summit
of the pass. Here is the hospice of Saint Bernard,

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founded by Saint Bernard de Menthon nearly a thousand years ago,
and here all the year round lived the good monks
of Saint Bernard, ever ready to aid travelers. When the
wearied soldiers reached the top of the pass, the good
monks gave them a meal of bread and wine and cheese,
and then the long descent began. For the horses and mules.

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This was almost more difficult in the ascent, but sliding
and stumbling, they at last got over the worst of
the road with no serious accident. But a new difficulty
now arose. Fort Bard had to be passed. This was
only a little four held by four hundred Austrians, but
perched upon a rock. It commanded the tiny town through

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which the road lay, and the whole pass, which here
is not more than fifty yards wide. For some time
the French tried in vain to take the fort. Then
at length they discovered a narrow goat track leading round it,
and out of gunshot. By this, one by one the
infantry passed, but it was impossible to take the artillery

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that way, so in the dead of night the artillery
men entered the village. They spread chaff and straw upon
the street, and, having muffled every belt or buckle that
might clatter or jingle, they drew the cannon through the town,
almost under the noses of the unsuspecting Austrians. Then, the

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last difficulty being passed, the French poured like an avalanche
down upon the plain of Italy. The news of Napoleon's
wonderful march soon reached the famished garrison of Genoa, and
the thought that help was near renewed their sinking courage.
But day after day passed and no rescuing French army
appeared before the walls. Still they hoped on, sick out,

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heart and weary. But at length the last spark of
hope died and brave Massina gave in. They had absolutely
nothing left to eat but knapsacks and shoes, grass and roots.
No terms are too good for you, said Lord Keith,
the British commander, So the French were allowed to march

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out with all the honors of war. Meanwhile, Napoleon was
passing through Italy in a kind of triumph. It did
not suit his plans to relieve Genoa, so he left
the garrison to starve while he prepared for a great
battle in which all was to be won or lost.
And so at last French and Austrian met again upon

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the field of Marengo, a little village not far from
the town of Alessandria. At daybreak on the fourteenth of
June the fight began. It was a fierce and terrible battle.
The Austrians numbered nearly twice as many as the French.
At one time the French fled from the field, crying
all is lost. Again. They rallied, but step by step

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they were driven backward and at last fled once more.
The Austrian leader was an old man, over eighty. He
was weary of long fighting, and about three o'clock in
the afternoon, believing the victory won, he left the field.
But at this moment a French officer who had been
at some distance, rode up with fresh troops. I fear

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it is a battle lost, he said to Napoleon. I
think it is a battle one, replied he, and rallying
his men and ordering a sudden charge of cavalry, he
turned defeat into victory. Soon it was the Austrians who
were fleeing from the field an utter rout. So completely
crushed was the Austrian army that next day the leader

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sent a flag of truce to Napoleon, begging for peace,
and by the treaty which followed, all northern Italy was
given up, almost as it had been at the Treaty
of Campoformio. Thus, at one blow was Italy reconquered. Having
thus startled the world and covered his name with glory,

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Napoleon returned to Paris. He had been gone less than
two months. All along the way people crowded to cheer
him as he passed. In Paris, the houses were lit
up night after night in his honor. For hours together,
crowds would stand round his palace, hoping to catch a
glimpse of the conqueror of the Alps, of the victor

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of Marengo. Napoleon was delighted with all the fame he
had won a few more events like this campaign, and
I shall perhaps go down to posterity, he cried. End
of Chapter four,