The pure, bright moon shone with serene majesty in the soft, dark blue of the Italian sky, dimming the light of the silver stars, in her own calm glory. The rugged heights of Monte Notte, with here and there a tower and wall, or a row of trees upon its broken ascent, and the two small villages at its base, surrounded with groves and vineyards, were revealed with scarce the variation of a shadow. They would have seemed to sleep beneath the soothing influence of the night, but for the numerous red fires, which burned here and there along the mountain side, and at intervals for the distance of half a mile from its base; and the occasional booming of a gun, with its grumbling echoes. At a considerable distance in front could be seen the lights of the redoubts upon the heights of Monte Legino, which throughout the day, under the command of the indomitable Colonel Rampon, had withstood the furious assaults of the Austrians under d’Argenteau, the commander preferring to perish rather than capitulate. His resolution had saved the plans of Bonaparte from receiving a check, and now the young general of the French felt sure of his game.

Around the watch-fires to which we have alluded were gathered the half-fed, half-clothed, but enthusiastic troops of the divisions commanded by La Harpe and Cervoni, who had united and marched to this strong position in the rear of Monte Legino, in accordance with the plans of Bonaparte. The general-in-chief was with them, for near this place he anticipated the triumph of his wonderful combinations, and the defeat of the Austrians. Most of the principal officers were quartered in the villages, resting from the fatigues of a rapid march. But the time was too critical for Bonaparte to think of sleep. He was abroad among those camp-fires, accompanied by the brave and active Swiss, La Harpe, that faithful and untiring friend, Michael Duroc, then aid-de-camp to the young general, and several other officers of distinction. As he walked among them, he looked like a mere boy attending a throng of rough and hardy soldiers. To each group gathered round a fire, he had a pleasant and encouraging word to say, a condescension to which these war-worn veterans were unaccustomedunaccustomed. As he turned away from them he might have heard expressions which showed that the troops believed in his invincibility, and at all events, were prepared to suffer any hardships in his service. The wretched clothing of many of them was observed by the general, and he occasionally reminded them, that they had now an opportunity of winning not only glory, which every true soldier should seek first, but wealth and abundance, amid the fertile plains of Italy. Such words, uttered by a commander among the camp-fires of an army are calculated to have more effect in arousing its enthusiasm than the most eloquent of regular and formal addresses. At length, arriving at a fire much larger than any of the others upon the side of the mountain, Bonaparte threw himself upon the ground, and, motioning his officers to follow his example, he took out the plan of operations, which he had drawn up, and began with his usual precision, to explain how far it had been carried out, and what would be the movements of the next day. In the meantime the soldiers, grim, moustached veterans, withdrew and set about kindling another fire at a respectful distance.

“Augereau will reach this point early in the morning, and render efficient support to the troops already in position. Marching by this road on the other side of the Appenines, Massena will show himself, nearly at the same time, in d’Argenteau’s rear, and then the Austrians cannot escape us. They will be surrounded on all sides by a superior force.

“Thus far it has been successful,” said La Harpe. “But if Rampon had not fought so desperately at Monte Legino, the plan would have been defeated, or at least, checked for a time.”

“Rampon fought bravely; but when such a plan depends upon the maintenance of a post, a good officer should prefer to die rather than yield it to the enemy,” replied Bonaparte.

“Rampon fought like a hero because he knew the importance of his position,” said Duroc.

“I trust Massena will be as active as the occasion demands. He has courage, perseverance, and skill; but it requires the most imminent danger to awaken his activity,” said the young commander-in-chief.

“A singular man, truly,” remarked Duroc.

“However,” continued Bonaparte, following the train of his own reflections, “never had a commander-in-chief more reason to be proud of his general officers than myself. They are all men born to lead. With them, I have nothing to fear from the delinquency of our half-fed troops.”

“Yet, general, the soldiers are in a condition calculated to depress their spirits,” said La Harpe. “We officers, who chiefly fight for glory, and for the honor of our country, never murmur, although very badly treated by our government. But the majority of the soldiers in the ranks have a constant eye to their pay.”

“But to make soldiers worthy of France, we must alter that;” replied Bonaparte, “one and all must be taught to fight for glory, and then our arms will be irresistible.”

La Harpe shook his head. But the enthusiastic Duroc, catching the noble fire of his illustrious friend, exclaimed.

“Yes, the love of glory makes the true soldier! This will cause the troops to forget their toilsome, bare-foot marches, and their long days of hunger! And never have I seen the French soldiers more eager for conflict in defence of their country’s honor, than they have been since our young general took command of the army of Italy. That first proclamation gave them a new spirit, which has been growing stronger every day. There are splendid triumphs before us, I am sure.”

The face of Bonaparte expressed nothing of the emotions which must have heaved in his soul at these words. But he grasped the hand of Duroc and shook it warmly.

“My friends,” said he, “it is all clear enough to me. To-morrow will be a great day for France. Old Beaulieu will begin to know his enemy. The plain before us shall be the scene of more Austrian astonishment and dismay than has been known in Italy for many years. Beaulieu supposes that I intended to file off along the coast to Genoa; whereas, here I am, ready to overwhelm his centre. Following up this victory, it will be easy to cut him off from communication with the Piedmontese.”

The officers gazed with wonder and admiration upon the stripling who was thus summarily disposing of the fate of armies and countries, and while they listened to his words of conscious power, an awe crept over them, they felt themselves in the presence of a superior being; and yet among them were several men of splendid qualities,—born to command.

By this time the groups around the fires had stretched themselves upon the hard earth to repose, and the pacing of the sentinels alone disturbed the stillness of the scene, where thousands of brave warriors submitted to the conqueror, sleep. Bonaparte and his officers returned to a house in the little village of Monte Notte, which had been selected as the quarters for the night. And the army slumbered on, beneath the sweet vigil of the moon, and beside the cheerful warmth of the camp-fires until the cold, white light in the east told that the most glorious king of day, who has arisen and set upon so many fields of conflict, was about to ascend the heavens.

and the stars soared out of sight, and the moon slowly faded to vapor, as the white light turned to a golden glow.

Then was heard the roll of the reveillÉ. With astonishing rapidity, the French were under arms and in motion. Bonaparte and his staff rode to an elevated knoll, commanding the whole plain, and then were ordered the movements which gave to the young commander-in-chief the victory of Monte Notte. D’Argenteau, the Austrian commander, found himself attacked upon one side by the divisions of La Harpe, Cervoni and Augereau, and upon the other by Massena. Then boomed the cannon, and the rattled musketry over the plain. The Austrian infantry sustained the conflict with admirable courage. But they were surrounded by superior forces and after several charges had been made by the French, in the full confidence of victory, the discomfited d’Argenteau was compelled to retreat towards Dego. In fact, the retreat was a disorderly flight. The French made two thousand prisoners, and several hundred Austrians were left dead on the field. The centre of the Austrian army had been completely overwhelmed. Bonaparte was the victor of Monte Notte. In after years, when the imperial crown adorned his brow, the conqueror showed his contempt for ancestral distinctions by saying that he dated his title to rule from this battle.