Napoleon Bonaparte

by Alan Schom

  The Danube was flooding and rising daily as a result of melting spring snows and very heavy rains. Bertrand was now required to build a pontoon bridge some eight hundred yards long just to reach Lobau Island, and then another bridge one hundred yards long to link the island with the northern bank of the Danube, which Napoleon needed if he was to attack Archduke Karl. This left Napoleon very vulnerable. Napoleon was also entirely dependent on those two unprotected wooden bridges over which to transfer all his supplies, his artillery, his entire cavalry, and more than eighty thousand men, not to mention the rest of the army later. Such bridges were, to be sure, prime targets for Austrian artillery and fireboats. Should the Austrians disable those bridges, in particular the long one, Napoleon’s force would be cut in two and entirely isolated, thereby cutting them off from all supplies and help from Vienna. It would also result in the severing of his sole means of retreat, in the event Karl’s forces were successful in counterattacking.

  Bonaparte was clearly intending to act rapidly, thrusting his entire two corps quickly across the river, in a wild gamble of somehow destroying a complete field force that easily outnumbered him and had more than twice as many guns. Great efficiency and speed were required, but also proper protection for his long, completely exposed bridge. But in the hope of advancing quickly and catching Karl off guard, Napoleon, fatefully as it turned out, vetoed a long period of preparation of defenses — pilings in the river, gun emplacements, a flotilla of gunboats to protect that lifeline. He would strike before the Austrians knew what had hit them. This, added to the fact that he would begin his attack with insufficient cannon power to compensate for the lack of troops, and with the other corps of his army still far away, looked, at best, like the longest of his shots. But if he brought it off, he would be considered a miracle worker.

  The order was given to begin building the first pontoon bridge, with a second one at Nussdorf a couple of miles north of Vienna as a feint. Although Austrian troops were situated right up to and including Lobau and even a small outpost at Lob Grund opposite the massive bridge-building operation, and hence totally aware of French preparations to launch a new offensive, Karl and his army were taken unawares. At least they did nothing to prevent Napoleon from acting on May 20, when sections of the eight-hundred-yard-long pontoon bridge were swung into place by Bertrand’s engineers, as Marshal Masséna’s IV Corps secured Lobau, crossed over to the northern bank of the Danube, and seized the surprisingly undefended, unoccupied twin villages of Aspern and Essling.

  The size of the force now facing Napoleon now proved a real shock, for his intelligence reports as usual were slapdash, in this instance having informed him that there was still no major Austrian presence there.

  In reality, by the afternoon of May 20, six entire Austrian corps, along with Kienmaier’s reserve grenadiers, had moved into the area from Bohemia and the Upper Danube between the villages of Langzenersdorf and Baumersdorf on the other side of Wagram.

  At 10:00 A.M. on the twenty-first, four of these Austrian corps, totaling 89,000 men, advanced in a line extending from the banks of the northern shore all the way inland for six miles. By one o’clock that afternoon, the first units reached the village of Aspern, dislodging Masséna’s surprised units, and by five o’clock, with his army fully in place, Archduke Karl launched a massive attack all across the line. In the midst of the fierce fighting that ensued, Aspern changed hands several times in vicious man-to-man combat, while the French managed more successfully to hold on to the village of Essling to the right. Bessières’s cavalry did surprisingly well given the odds against them but, like Masséna’s troops, suffered heavy casualties, including the loss of the most able General d’Espagne.

  By nightfall a dazed Napoleon still had only 31,400 troops on his side of the Danube, as he desperately sent out couriers with orders for all units, in particular Davout’s III Corps occupying Vienna, to come to his aid and to bring artillery and supplies. During the night a barrage of fireboats, floating bombs, logs, and other obstacles was launched into the muddy, churning Danube, causing several breaches, though repairs were completed before dawn broke on the twenty-second, permitting Lannes’s II Corps to cross over and reinforce Masséna’s IV Corps, giving Napoleon a total of 62,000 infantry and cavalry, with 144 guns, versus the Austrian army’s nearly 96,000 men (including 15,000 cavalry) and 264 guns. The French, still greatly outnumbered and outgunned, were practically fighting with their backs to the Danube. Attacks and counterattacks followed by both armies around Aspern and Essling in particular, Napoleon desperately attempting to hold on until Davout could come to the rescue.

  At 7:00 A.M. Napoleon foolishly launched Lannes’s fresh corps through the center of the Austrian line between Aspern and Essling, although Davout had not yet arrived to support him in the event the attack proved successful. Lannes did indeed succeed, “advancing bravely over the plain,” as Captain Marbot recalled. “Nothing could stand in his way...The Austrians fell back...and their center...finished by breaking!”

  Victory seemed in sight when, to everyone’s astonishment, Napoleon ordered Lannes to halt. There was a very good reason: Napoleon was isolated again, for the pontoon bridge had been smashed again by a continuing series of floating fires, bombs, and barges hurled against it by the raging current. Napoleon, low on ammunition and food, and with no medical supplies, could not be resupplied, nor could Davout’s corps now waiting impatiently on the south bank of the Danube cross over to him.

  Archduke Karl naturally took immediate advantage of the situation and launched a fresh attack, concentrating on the French force in the smoldering ruins of Aspern, where the heaviest fighting of the day now continued. Veteran Generals Mouton (at the head of the Young Guard) and Rapp found it impossible to hold and secure the flaming village in the face of such overwhelming forces. In Rapp’s words, the situation had become “most dangerous.” Although Rapp managed to retake the village, Napoleon came under such an intense hail of musketry and cannonballs that his own elite guard insisted on his retiring to a safer area. Unlike Soult, who generally fled when the fighting got intense, Napoleon was not only in the thick of it throughout the day, but appeared even to be attracted to it like a moth to a candle. And it was now that he received further bad news — irreparable this time.

  When Lannes had halted his attack and fallen back to a more tenable position between Essling and Aspern, the archduke had counterattacked, Napoleon sending in St.-Hilaire’s cavalry to stop them. They did, but at a great price: The troops were decimated by the withering musketry, and St.-Hilaire himself a casualty, his leg shattered. He died shortly thereafter in a field hospital.

  At the same time Lannes’s principal aide-de-camp, Captain Marbot, received a painful wound in the thigh, though he could still stand. “The situation was most critical,” Marbot recalled. “The Emperor, now on the defensive, formed his army in an arch round the Danube. Our right reached down to the river just behind Essling. Our [contracting] left was secured behind Aspern. We would have to hold that line throughout the day [22 May], or risk being thrown into the river.” A little later Marshal Lannes saw one of his favorite commanders, General Pouzet, killed before him. Visibly upset at the sight of his friend’s body being placed on a stretcher, Lannes cried out in anguish as he looked at the corpses around him, “Oh, I shall never be able to forget this terrible spectacle!” Marbot reported that he sat down near the edge of a ditch and crossed his legs, his right hand covering his eyes. “He was seated there lost in somber reflection when a small, three-pound cannonball fired from Enzersdorf ricocheted, striking the marshal just where his legs crossed!” Both legs were shattered, and Lannes fell to the ground in agony, though he remained conscious.

  The stretcher bearing General Pouzet’s body was now emptied hastily for Lannes, who was rushed past a stack of amputated arms and legs into Larrey’s blood-splattered, fly-infested tent. No anesthesia being available, a scarcely conscious Lannes was given a glass of wine before Larrey had his stretcher pla
ced on the table, where he swiftly severed one of the legs at the knee. “Awake throughout the ordeal, he acted with great courage,” Marbot continued. “It was scarcely over when the Emperor arrived. It was the most touching interview. The emperor, kneeling on the ground next to the stretcher, burst into tears and threw himself over the marshal, whose blood soaked Napoleon’s white cashmere waistcoat a bright damp crimson.” Napoleon insisted: “You will live, my friend, you will live!” tears streaming down his face.

  Meanwhile the battle raged that May 22, with only Masséna left to command the entire force. Napoleon had no choice finally but to fall back to the safety of Lobau Island. The slow evacuation lasted far into the night, and at 3:30 in the morning the bridge’s cables were severed by the French, and it swung back to the banks of the island.

  The Battle of Aspern-Essling, an appalling French disaster, was over, a defeated Napoleon in retreat from the field. In the morning Napoleon had a boat brought over to Lobau in which to transfer Lannes to the right bank. Not only was there no anesthetia or even soap, but no clean drinking water, and Marbot was forced to filter the muddy Danube water through a fine cloth shirt. Despite daily visits by Napoleon and Marbot’s steadfast attention (in total disregard of his own wound), Lannes died a few days later. Napoleon could not be consoled for the loss of this remarkable soldier, who had begun his career so humbly as a dyer’s apprentice in the Gers, and who — like Napoleon — had celebrated his fortieth birthday that year. “The Emperor’s grief was so great that for the next two days, wherever he was, whenever he thought of Marshal Lannes, he burst into tears, despite his great effort to conceal this,” Constant, his valet remembered.

  French losses were extremely high, probably as many as 16,000 dead and perhaps double that wounded, some medical reports giving even higher figures, although Napoleon publicly announced to the world only 4,100 dead and wounded. The Austrians officially suffered 23,000 casualties, and were the clear winners of the unequal two-day battle.

  Napoleon remained stunned. Never before had the Austrians fought so valiantly. And thanks to his own impatience, he had launched an attack against the enemy’s main force when he not only lacked half his army but had failed even to secure the vital logistical communications, his very lifeline, across the Danube. Had a mere brigadier general committed such an error, Napoleon would have broken him. It was fortunate for him, however, that over the next few days, and then weeks, the victorious Archduke Karl for some inexplicable reason remained in his usual moribund Austrian state and failed to follow up on his triumph. He could easily have smashed a now helpless Napoleon and his badly mauled troops on Lobau, “misery island” as the French now called it, where he had them and their wounded cornered. With the bridge repaired again, the thousands of wounded were gradually transported back to Vienna, a steady stream of ambulances and wagons, some five miles long, making the journey over the next week, although the majority didn’t survive.

  The scandal of the numerous tiffs and tilts among Napoleon’s senior generals and marshals was by now widely known. Every other marshal’s dislike of Berthier marked but the introduction to this pathetic page of Napoleona, leading to outrageous acts even on the field of battle. The case of Soult and Masséna in the Iberian Peninsula has already been noted. Before that was Bernadotte’s blatant refusal to come to the aid of the outnumbered Davout at Auerstädt, while at the same time managing to avoid all fighting that same day at Jena as well. Bernadotte had refused to fire a single shot in behalf of the 123,000 French troops who had been involved in heavy, sometimes desperate, fighting all day long. Longer-standing still was the animosity between Lannes and Murat, which resulted in a bitter side feud between Lannes and Bessières. This came to a head during Aspern-Essling, adding to the tragedy of the day.

  It had all begun long ago under the Directory, when first Lannes, and then Murat, had been serving as Napoleon’s senior aide-de-camp, while both of them had been vying for the hand of Caroline Bonaparte. Both men were handsome and brave, as well as favorites of Napoleon, but Murat had an extra supporter in Bessières. The latter, close to Napoleon at this time and soon to head his personal guard, took Murat’s side in this marital question, ending in success for the strapping Murat. Lannes never forgave Bessières for his interference in his private affairs. Then on May 21, 1809, the long-pent-up bitterness erupted in the middle of the Battle of Aspern-Essling, when Marshal Lannes ordered the less-than-adventurous Marshal Bessières (placed directly under Lannes’s orders by Napoleon) to “charger à fond,” to lead the cavalry of the Imperial Guard right through the Austrian battle line and then swing around. It was Lannes’s aide-de-camp, Captain Marbot, who was given the task of delivering the humiliating verbal instructions to Bessiercs before his entire staff. (A general officer or marshal never had to be “ordered” to drive right through the enemy line, that being taken for granted, and Bessières was indignant upon receiving them. Moreover, a marshal never “ordered” another marshal to do anything but instead invited him to do so.) This unpleasant task done, Marbot quickly returned to Lannes.

  That night after the battle, Bessières, while talking to Masséna, saw young Marbot limping toward them. “They could see me at once in the bright moonlight, intensified by the glow of the fires still consuming the villages of Essling and Aspern,” the captain recalled. Bessières, still smarting from that day’s order by Lannes, lashed out verbally at Marbot, not seeing Lannes following behind him. Lannes stepped forward quickly to protect his aide, as an astonished Bessières stopped in midsentence. “It is simply outrageous that you chew out my aide-de-camp!” a hot-tempered Lannes intervened, then praised Marbot’s many merits, including his several recent wounds. “What do you reproach this officer for?” he demanded. “Monsieur, your aide-de-camp earlier ‘ordered’ me to charge straight through the enemy line!” “That is correct, Monsieur, and it is I who dictated that order to him!” The words got hotter as tempers rose, Bessières informing Lannes that he would gladly have “acceded” to a polite “request.” Lannes snapped, “Just you listen, Monsieur, one does not ‘accede’ to an ‘order,’ one simply ‘obeys’! If in the present circumstances the Emperor had placed me under your command, I can assure you I would have resigned on the spot!” Masséna, in whose camp they were standing, surrounded by dozens of officers and soldiers, saw the hands of the two marshals drop to the hilts of their swords. He quickly attempted to quell a dangerous situation. “I am your senior [in age], gentlemen. You are in my camp. I have no intention of permitting you the opportunity of giving my troops the scandalous spectacle of seeing two imperial marshals fighting one another, and that on the battlefield still before the enemy. Leave immediately!” Then, Marbot recorded in his memoirs, “he took Marshal Lannes by the arm and walked off to his quarters, “as a brooding Bessiercs betook himself off to his own camp.”

  Learning of this incident as he was sitting down to dinner, Napoleon summoned the two men. He walked over in great strides, turned to Marshal Bessières, and strongly reproached him. “The commander of his Imperial Guard seemed truly bewildered by these strong words, a feeling intensified all the more when the Emperor then turned his back on him and returned to his table to eat, inviting Lannes to join him.”

  Lannes had used outrageous language. But Bessières, who had already failed to follow orders in Spain and had been removed from a corps command as a consequence, was now clearly in Napoleon’s bad books. Relations between Napoleon and Bessières never fully recovered. Quarrels in the general officer corps grew more and more divisive until the very end.

  Despite the humiliating defeat at Aspern-Essling, the grievous dissensions among his marshals and generals, and the considerable tactical limitations presented by the Danube barrier, Napoleon’s stubbornness and genius rose to the fore. He gradually formulated a new plan of attack, for he had no intention of abandoning Vienna and Austria now. Astonishingly enough Archduke Karl continued to oblige, failing to launch an all-out attack against the French army still penned d
own in their island fortress. Indeed the Austrians moved neither forward nor backward, remaining on the battlefield for the next several weeks; Napoleon, for one, had never seen anything quite like it and once again his old self, determined to succeed despite the initial defeat. After all, he still held Lobau Island, however tenuously, while retaining the Austrian capital as well. Although he spent most days supervising large new fortifications and other works at Lobau, each night an exhausted Bonaparte would cross the Danube to return to his luxurious “camp of Schönbrunn Palace,” as he referred to it, to complete the details of the next stage of this campaign or to be soothed by the available local feminine charms, until the arrival of Countess Walewska later that summer.

  More determined than ever to prove to the world that he, Napoleon Bonaparte, and his invincible army of yore were not done for, that there would be no more humiliating Bailens, Vimieiros, and Aspern-Esslings, he patiently, methodically prepared to build bridges linking Lobgrund and Lobau. But instead of an enormous single-span bridge, he decided first to build a bridge halfway across the main channel of the Danube to the small island of Schneidergrund, and then two more bridges linking the rest of the channel to Lobgrund and Lobau. The bridges would be shorter, stouter, and less vulnerable in size and structure. If one were temporarily out of action, the other would be standing, while the remaining set of bridges linking that midchannel islet with Lobgrund and Lobau would be even better protected. To further ensure the security of the link with the south bank of the Danube, an enormous series of pilings was driven into the riverbed across the channel, which protruded well above the water level to act like a massive wooden sieve to catch any fire, bomb boats, or other obstacles launched upstream by the Austrians, preventing them from reaching the bridges. It was a major engineering feat, but without it there could be no crossing of troops. To complete this project Napoleon ordered the creation of a flotilla of gunboats, manned by units of his Imperial Guard, to patrol the river and protect the works. Meanwhile hundreds of wagons could be seen traveling daily between Vienna and the bridgehead of Kaiser Ebersdorf on the south bank, and from outlying areas south of that village, bringing enormous supplies of timber, metal, and coal, not to mention vast quantities of ammunition, powder, and more than 350 additional cannon taken from the walls and arsenals of Vienna.