We are now to behold Bonaparte as First Consul of France—as the successful rival of the Carthagenian Hannibal in the prodigious exploit of leading an army over the lofty and wintry Alps—and as the conqueror of his old enemies the Austrians.

The time was May, 1800. At Paris, Bonaparte had formed the plan of the most astonishing of his campaigns, with a precision so wonderful that it pointed to the very spot on which the decisive battle should be fought. While the intrepid Massena defended Genoa with unwearied energy, and Moreau engaged the attention of the Austrians on the line of the Danube, the First Consul had created a third army, caused the passes of the Alps to be explored, determined to take that of the Great St. Bernard, and achieved the passage as far as the vale of Aosta, where an unexpected obstacle was found in the fortress of Bard.

The valley of Aosta is traversed by a river which receives all the waters of the St. Bernard, and carries them into the Po, under the name of Dora-Baltea. As it approaches Bard, the valley narrows; the road lying between the base of the mountains and the bed of the river becomes gradually more contracted, until at length, a rock, which seems to have fallen from the neighboring crags into the middle of the valley, almost entirely blocks it. The river then runs on one side of the rock, and the road proceeds on the other. This road lined with houses composes all the town of Bard. On the top of the rock stands a fort, impregnable by its position, though ill-constructed, which sweeps with its fire, on the right, the whole course of the Dora-Baltea, and on the left, the long street forming the little town of Bard. Drawbridges close the entrance and the outlet of this single street. A garrison, small in number, but well commanded, occupied this fort.

The brave and persevering Lannes commanded the advanced division of the French. He was not a man to be easily stopped. He immediately put forward a few companies of grenadiers, who broke down the drawbridge, and, in the face of a sweeping fire, entered Bard. The commandant of the fort then poured a storm of shot and shell upon the town, but was soon induced to cease, by a feeling of compassion for the inhabitants. Lannes stationed his division out of the town and under cover; but it was impossible to pass the materiel of the army under the fire of the fort. He then reported to General Berthier, who, coming up, was dismayed at the unexpected obstacle. General Marescot, the skilful engineer of the army, was then brought forward.

He examined the fort, and declared it nearly impregnable, not on account of its construction, which was indifferent, but from its position, which was entirely isolated. The escarpment of the rock did not admit escalading, and the walls, though not covered by an embankment, could not be battered in breach, as there was no possibility of establishing a battery in a position suitable for breaching them. Nevertheless, it was possible, by strength of arm, to hoist a few guns of small calibre to the top of the neighboring heights. Berthier gave orders to this end. The soldiers, who were used to the most difficult undertakings, went to work eagerly to hoist up two four-pounders, and even two eight-pounders. These they in fact succeeded in elevating to the mountain of Albaredo, which overlooks the rock and fort of Bard; and a plunging fire, suddenly opened, greatly surprised the garrison, which, nevertheless, did not lose courage, but replied, and soon dismounted one of the guns, which were of too feeble a calibre to be useful.

Marescot declared that there was no hope of taking the fort, and that some other means must be devised for overcoming this obstruction. Berthier, in great alarm, instantly counter-ordered all the columns as they successively came up; suspended the march of the men and the artillery all along the line, in order to prevent them from involving themselves further, should it be necessary, after all, to retreat. An instant panic circulated to the rear, and all the men thought themselves arrested in this glorious enterprise. Berthier sent courier after courier to the First Consul, to inform him of this unexpected disappointment.

The latter tarried still at Martigny, not meaning to pass over the St. Bernard, until he had seen, with his own eyes, the last of the artillery sent forward. But this announcement of an obstacle, considered insurmountable at first, made a terrible impression on him; but he recovered quickly, and refused positively to admit the possibility of a retreat. Nothing in the world should reduce him to such an extremity. He thought that, if one of the loftiest mountains in the world had failed to arrest his progress, a secondary rock could not be capable of vanquishing his courage and his genius. The fort, said he to himself, might be taken by bold courage; if it could not be taken, it still could be turned. Besides, if the infantry and the cavalry could pass by it, with but a few four-pounders, they could then proceed to Ivrea at the mouth of the gorge, and wait until their heavy guns could follow them. And if the heavy guns could not pass by the obstacle which had arisen; and if, in order to get any, that of the enemy must be taken, the French infantry were brave and numerous enough to assail the Austrians and take their cannon. Moreover, he studied his maps again and again, questioned a number of Italian officers; and learning from these that many other roads led from Aosta to the neighboring valleys, he wrote letter after letter to Berthier, forbidding him to stop the progress of the army, and pointing out to him, with wonderful precision, what reconnoissances should be made around the fort of Bard. He would not allow himself to see any serious danger, except from the arrival of a hostile corps, shutting up the debouch of Ivrea; he instructed Berthier to send Lannes as far as Ivrea, by the path of Albaredo, and make him take a stronger position there, which should be safe from the Austrian artillery and cavalry. When Lannes guards the entrance of the valley, added the First Consul, whatever may happen, it is of little consequence, the only result may be a loss of time. We have enough provisions to subsist ourselves awhile, and one way or other we shall succeed in avoiding or overcoming the obstacles which now delay us.

These instructions having been sent to Berthier, he addressed his last orders to General Moncey, who should debouch by the St. Gothard; to General Chabran, who should come down by the Little St. Bernard, directly in front of the fort of Bard; and then, at last, resolved to cross the Alps in person. Before he set forth, he received news from the Var, informing him that on the 14th of May—the 24th of Floreal—the Baron de Melas was still at Nice. As it was now the 20th of May, it could not reasonably be supposed, that the Austrian general, in the space of six days, could have marched from Nice to Ivrea. It was then on the 20th of May, before daylight, that he set out to pass the defile. His aid-de-camp Duroc, and his secretary Bourrienne, accompanied him.

Behold him now ascending the rugged and difficult St. Bernard, the rocks and precipices around him, and above, the towering summits of perpetual snow! He is mounted on a mule, conducted by a young, hardy mountaineer. The grey great coat, which he always wore during his campaigns of sleepless activity, is buttoned closely around him. His cheeks are fuller than when we saw him in Egypt; but he has the same pale, olive complexion, the same firm-set mouth, the same steady, piercing eyes, and the same air of constant thought. Occasionally he turns to address a remark to Duroc or Bourrienne; and he has many questions to ask of those officers he meets upon the road. But, strange to say, he converses the longest with that simple-hearted mountaineer who leads his mule. The young guide unrolls his little catalogue of troubles, to which the First Consul listens as he would to a pastoral romance. The great man learns that the mountaineer is much grieved, because, for want of a little money, he is unable to marry one of the maidens of the valley who has won his heart. Thus proceeding, the party at length arrived at the monastery of St. Bernard, where the benevolent monks displayed much pleasure at seeing the illustrious general. He alighted; but before he partook of any refreshment, he wrote a brief note, which he handed to his guide, and told him to give it without delay to the administrator of the army, who had remained on the other side of the St. Bernard. In the evening, when the young mountaineer reached St. Pierre, he learned how great a person he had conducted, and also that the First Consul had given him a house and a field, as the means of marrying the girl of his heart. A delightful pastoral episode in the great warrior’s stormy career.

Bonaparte halted a short time with the monks, thanked them for the care shown to his troops, made them a noble gift, and then pursued his route. The descent of St. Bernard was made very rapidly, the First Consul descending on a sledge, which glided down the glacier with almost fearful swiftness. The party arrived the same evening at Etroubles. The following morning, having spent some time in examining the park of artillery and the provisions, he started for Aosta and Bard.

The night of the 23d of May was clear, bright and cold, in the valley of Aosta. Just beyond the town of Bard—a long, narrow line of old, picturesque houses—were encamped the troops of Lannes’s division, the line of the encampment being indicated by the watch-fires. In front of the large tent which had been erected as the quarters of the First Consul, stood Bonaparte, Berthier, Marescot, Lannes, Duroc, and Bourrienne. Marescot stood next to the illustrious commander-in-chief, who was examining the fort and its surroundings with a glass.

“The report was perfectly correct; that is a serious obstacle,” said the First Consul. “But I have no doubt that we, who surmounted the difficulties of the St. Bernard, will conquer this rocky position, either by taking or turning it.”

“The only hope of capturing the fort, is by an escalade, on the outer ramparts, as you will perceive,” remarked Marescot.

“True, we can place a battery on the heights of Albaredo; but that will produce but little effect,” replied Bonaparte.

“The fire of the fort sweeps the whole course of the river, and that long street of the town,” observed Berthier.

“We have made reconnoissances to the left, along the sinuous flanks of the Albaredo mountain, and found a path, which through vast dangers, more terrible than those of the St. Bernard, rejoins the great road below the fort at St. Donaz,” said Marescot.

“Can it be made practicable for infantry, cavalry, and a few light guns?” quickly inquired Bonaparte.

“I think it can. With about fifteen hundred workmen, it could soon be greatly altered,” replied Marescot.

“Enough; you shall have the workmen, and the infantry, cavalry, and four-pounders shall be sent by that road,” said the First Consul, decisively.

“The artillery horses may be sent by the same road, and the only remaining difficulty will be to get the heavy guns along beyond this fort,” remarked Duroc.

A short time previous, the officers of the advanced division had been appalled by an unexpected obstruction. But difficulties of all kinds seemed to vanish before the First Consul’s burning faith in possibility. No thought of retreat was now entertained.

“Come in, Marescot, and Bourrienne. Generals, you shall hear from me either in the course of the night, or at dawn,” said Bonaparte, and he entered his tent, followed by Marescot and Bourrienne. Lannes and Duroc followed General Berthier to his tent, where they were soon seated and engaged in conversation.

“Come, Lannes, as this is the first time we have met since we were at Dijon, let us know the particulars of your march over Mount St. Bernard,” said Duroc.

Lannes was much better fitted for doing a great thing than giving an account of it, and it required a short period of hard thinking to bring his ideas to the proper point. However, he commenced.

“The march was no exploit of which an officer should boast. You saw that I had under my command six regiments of excellent troops—there are none better in the army. To them belongs all the glory; for they were heavily laden with provisions and ammunition, and their task was one of great difficulty and hardship. We started from St. Pierre, about midnight, in order to get over the mountain before the period of danger from tumbling avalanches. We calculated it would require eight hours to reach the summit of the pass, and two hours to descend to St. Remy. The troops went to their work in high spirits. Burdened as they were, they scaled the craggy paths, singing among the precipices, and talking gaily, as if they were certain they were marching to new victories in Italy. The labor of the foot soldiers was not near so great as that of the cavalry. The horsemen marched on foot, leading their animals. In this, there was no danger while ascending; but when they came to the descent, the narrowness of the paths obliged each man to walk before his horse, so that each was exposed at each tumble of his animal to be dragged headlong down a precipice.”

“Did any of the men perish in that way?” inquired Duroc.

“Yes, several,” replied Lannes, “and about a dozen horses. The horse is not a sure-footed animal. Near daybreak, we arrived at the hospital, where the First Consul had ordered the monks to provide an agreeable surprise for the troops, in the shape of refreshment. Every soldier received a ration of bread, cheese, and wine. We did not stop longer than was required to dispatch this breakfast, and pursuing our march, we reached St. Remy, without any other accidents than those I have mentioned. While the other divisions of the army were advancing, I received orders from the First Consul to push forward to Aosta, then to Ivrea, and by taking that town, secure the entrance to the plains of Piedmont. On the 16th and 17th, I marched upon Aosta. There I found some Croatians, whom I drove down the valley. I reached Chatillon on the 18th, and routed a battalion of the enemy found there, capturing a goodly number of them. I then marched on down the valley, thinking that I would soon be upon the fertile plains of Italy, when this confounded fort suddenly appeared, and checked my march.”

“We have had a difficult task upon the other side of the mountain,” said Duroc. “You know that it was arranged that each day one division of the army should pass over. The materiel had to be transported with each division. The provisions and the ammunition were easily sent forward, for they could be divided into small packages. But the heavier articles which could not be divided and reduced, caused us a vast amount of trouble. In spite of the liberal expenditure of money, a sufficient number of mules could not be obtained. The transportation of the artillery was the most difficult task of all.

“The gun-carriages and caissons had been dismounted, and loaded on the backs of mules. The cannon themselves yet remained. For the twelve pounders and howitzers, the difficulty was much greater than was at first supposed. The sledges with rollers, which had been constructed in the arsenals, were wholly useless. Another mode was suggested, and immediately adopted; and it proved successful. This was to split pine trunks into two parts, hollow them out, secure a gun between them, and drag the pieces thus protected along the slippery ravines. Thanks to wise precautions, no shock could occur to injure them. Mules were attached to these strange loads, and succeeded in bringing a few pieces to the top of the defile. But the descent was more difficult: it was only to be achieved by manual exertion, and by incurring imminent risk; as the pieces had to be restrained and checked from rolling down the precipices. Unfortunately, at this juncture, the mules began to fail; the muleteers, too, who were now required in great numbers, became exhausted, and in consequence fresh means must be resorted to. A price as high as a thousand francs was offered to the neighboring peasants, for dragging a gun from St. Pierre to St. Remy. One hundred men were required for one cannon, one day to bring it up, and one day to let it down. Several hundred peasants presented themselves, and, under the direction of artillerists, transported a few pieces.

“But not even the allurement of such gain could induce them to maintain this effort. All disappeared ere long, and although officers were sent out to seek them, lavishing money, so as to bring them back, it was in vain; and it became necessary to call on the soldiers of the several divisions to drag their own artillery themselves. It seemed that nothing could be asked, too arduous, of these devoted soldiers. The money which the exhausted peasants would no longer earn, was offered as a stimulus; but they refused it to a man, exclaiming that it was a point of honor for all troops to save their cannon; and they took charge of the abandoned pieces. Parties, each of a hundred men, leaving the ranks successively, dragged them, each in their turn. Their bands struck up lively tunes in the more difficult defiles, and animated them to surmount these novel obstacles. Arrived at the mountain top, they found refreshments prepared for them by the monks, and took some brief repose, as a preparation for greater and more perilous efforts to be exerted in descending. Thus the divisions of Chambarlhac and Monnier were seen toiling at their own artillery; and as the advanced hour of the day did not permit them to descend, they preferred bivouacking in the snow, to abandoning their cannon. Fortunately the sky was clear; nor had they to endure bad weather, in addition to the hard toils of the way.”

“I am aware of much that you have been telling us,” said Berthier, “having been unceasingly employed in receiving the stores, and superintending the artillery mounted again. The troops have fully communicated their toils and sufferings, but they have borne up under them with astonishing courage and fortitude. Their faithful performance of duty has enabled the First Consul to execute a grand campaign, which places him above all the generals of antiquity.”

“The campaign is not yet decided. We must fight at least one great battle, and the prospect is not favorable to our getting near the Austrians in time to take them by surprise,” said Lannes.

“I think not,” replied Duroc. “The First Consul will either take or turn this fort within a few days at the farthest. I have no doubt of it—and the Austrians will be as much astonished as if we had dropped from the clouds. The campaign will cover us with glory.”

Here Bourrienne entered the tent, and communicated to the generals the plan which the First Consul had formed, which was as follows:

He resolved to make his infantry, cavalry, and the four-pounders, proceed by the path of Albaredo, which would be possible, after repairs. All the troops should be sent to take possession of the outlets of the mountains before Ivrea; and the First Consul, meanwhile, would attempt an attack on the fort, or find some means of avoiding its obstruction, by sending his artillery through one of the neighboring defiles. He ordered General Lecchi, commanding the Italians, to proceed on the left, advancing by the road to Grassoney in the valleyvalley of the Sesia, which extended to the Simplon and the Lago Maggiore. This movement was intended to clear the road of the Simplon, to form a junction with the detachment which was coming down it, and lastly to examine all the paths practicable to wheeled carriages.

After some further conversation, the generals separated for the night.

The next day, it was apparent that the conqueror of Italy was present, and among the French. All was activity and resolution. The First Consul directed his mind to the fort of Bard.

The single street, which composed this town, was in possession of the French, but only passable, if passable at all, under such a storm of fire as would make it impossible to move artillery that way, even if the distance had been only five or six hundred yards. The commandant was summoned; but replied, with the firmness of a man who appreciated fully the importance of the post intrusted to his courage. Force, therefore, alone, could make them masters of the passage. The artillery, which had been placed in battery on the heights of Albaredo, produced no great effect; an escalade was attempted on the outer ramparts of the fort; but some brave grenadiers and an excellent officer, Dufour, were killed or wounded to no purpose. At this time the troops were defiling by the path of Albaredo; for fifteen hundred workmen had wrought the necessary repairs on it. Places that were too narrow they had enlarged by mounds of the earth; declivities too sudden they had eased, by cutting steps for the feet; trunks of trees they had thrown across other places, to form bridges over ravines, which were too broad to be leaped.

The army defiled man by man in succession, the cavaliers leading their horses by the bridles. The Austrian officer commanding in the fort of Bard, seeing the columns thus march past, was in despair that he could not stop their progress; he, therefore, sent a message to M. de Melas, informing him that he had seen the passage of a whole army of infantry and cavalry, without having any means to prevent it; but pledged his head that they should arrive without a single piece of cannon. During this time, the artillerymen made one of the boldest of attempts. This was, under the cloud of night, to carry a piece of cannon under the very fire of the fort. Unfortunately, the enemy, aroused by the noise, threw down fire-pots, which made the whole road light as day, enabling him by that means to sweep it with a hail-storm of deadly missiles. Out of thirteen gunners who had run the risk of taking this piece forward, seven were killed or wounded. There was in that enough to discourage hardy spirits; yet it was not long ere another way, ingenious, but still very perilous, was devised. The street was strewn with straw and litter; tow was fastened around all the cannon, to prevent the slightest resonance of those huge metallic masses on their carriages; the horses were taken out, and the bold artillerists, dragging them with their own hands, were so daring as to carry them under the batteries of the fort, along the street of Bard. These means succeeded to perfection. The enemy, who occasionally fired as a precaution, wounded a few of the gunners; but soon, in spite of this fire, all the heavy artillery was transported through the defile; and this formidable obstruction, which had given the First Consul more anxiety than the St. Bernard itself, was now entirely overcome.

The Alps were passed, and victory already hovered over the banner of Bonaparte.