Array Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne - The Collected Works of Napoleon Bonaparte

No. 10.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Montebello, Noon, September 10, 1796.

My Dear ,—The enemy has lost 18,000 men prisoners; the rest killed or wounded. Wurmser, with a column of 1500 cavalry, and 500 infantry, has no resource but to throw himself into Mantua.

Never have we had successes so unvarying and so great. Italy, Friuli, the Tyrol, are assured to the Republic. The Emperor will have to create a second army: artillery, pontoons, baggage, everything is taken.

In a few days we shall meet; it is the sweetest reward for my labours and anxieties.

A thousand fervent and very affectionate kisses.

Bonaparte.

September 11th.—Skirmish at Cerea: Austrians successful. Bonaparte arrives alone, and is nearly captured.

No. 11.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Ronco, September 12, 1796 , 10 A.M.

My dear Josephine ,—I have been here two days, badly lodged, badly fed, and very cross at being so far from you.

Wurmser is hemmed in, he has with him 3000 cavalry and 5000 infantry. He is at Porto-Legnago; he is trying to get back into Mantua, but for him that has now become impossible. The moment this matter shall be finished I will be in your arms.

I embrace you a million times.

Bonaparte.

September 13th.—Wurmser, brushing aside the few French who oppose him, gains the suburbs of Mantua.

September 14th.—Massena attempts a surprise, but is repulsed.

September 15th.—Wurmser makes a sortie from St. Georges, but is driven back.

September 16th.—And at La Favorite, with like result.

No. 12.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Verona, September 17, 1796.

My Dear ,—I write very often and you seldom. You are naughty, and undutiful; very undutiful, as well as thoughtless. It is disloyal to deceive a poor husband, an affectionate lover. Ought he to lose his rights because he is far away, up to the neck in business, worries and anxiety. Without his Josephine, without the assurance of her love, what in the wide world remains for him. What will he do?

Yesterday we had a very sanguinary conflict; the enemy has lost heavily, and been completely beaten. We have taken from him the suburbs of Mantua.

Adieu, charming Josephine; one of these nights the door will be burst open with a bang, as if by a jealous husband, and in a moment I shall be in your arms.

A thousand affectionate kisses.

Bonaparte.

October 2nd. —(Moreau defeats Latour at Biberach, but then continues his retreat.)

October 8th. —Spain declares war against England.

October 10th.—Peace with Naples signed.

No. 13.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Modena, October 17, 1796 , 9 P.M.

The day before yesterday I was out the whole day. Yesterday I kept my bed. Fever and a racking headache both prevented me writing to my beloved; but I got your letters. I have pressed them to my heart and lips, and the grief of a hundred miles of separation has disappeared. At the present moment I can see you by my side, not capricious and out of humour, but gentle, affectionate, with that mellifluent kindness of which my Josephine is the sole proprietor. It was a dream, judge if it has cured my fever. Your letters are as cold as if you were fifty; we might have been married fifteen years. One finds in them the friendship and feelings of that winter of life. Fie! Josephine. It is very naughty, very unkind, very undutiful of you. What more can you do to make me indeed an object for compassion? Love me no longer? Eh, that is already accomplished! Hate me? Well, I prefer that! Everything grows stale except ill-will; but indifference, with its marble pulse, its rigid stare, its monotonous demeanour!...

A thousand thousand very heartfelt kisses.

I am rather better. I start to-morrow. The English evacuate the Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. Good news for France, and for the army.

Bonaparte.

October 25th. —(Moreau recrosses the Rhine.)

November 1st.—Advance of Marshal Alvinzi. Vaubois defeated by Davidovich on November 5th, after two days' fight.

November 6th.—Napoleon successful, but Vaubois' defeat compels the French army to return to Verona.

No. 14.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Verona, November 9, 1796.

My Dear ,—I have been at Verona since the day before yesterday. Although tired, I am very well, very busy; and I love you passionately at all times. I am just off on horseback.

I embrace you a thousand times.

Bonaparte.

November 12th.—Combat of Caldiero: Napoleon fails to turn the Austrian position, owing to heavy rains. His position desperate.

November 15th.—First battle of Arcola. French gain partial victory.

November 16th and 17th.—Second battle of Arcola. French completely victorious "Lodi was nothing to Arcola" (Bourrienne).

November 17th. —Death of Czarina Catherine II. of Russia.

November 18th.—Napoleon victoriously re-enters Verona by the Venice gate, having left it, apparently in full retreat, on the night of the 14th by the Milan gate.

No. 15.

From Bourrienne's "Life of Napoleon," vol. i. chap. 4.

Verona, November 19th, Noon.

My Adored Josephine ,—Once more I breathe freely. Death is no longer before me, and glory and honour are once more re-established. The enemy is beaten at Arcola. To-morrow we will repair Vaubois' blunder of abandoning Rivoli. In a week Mantua will be ours, and then your husband will clasp you in his arms, and give you a thousand proofs of his ardent affection. I shall proceed to Milan as soon as I can; I am rather tired. I have received letters from Eugène and Hortense—charming young people. I will send them to you as soon as I find my belongings, which are at present somewhat dispersed.

We have made five thousand prisoners, and killed at least six thousand of the enemy. Good-bye, my adored Josephine. Think of me often. If you cease to love your Achilles, if for him your heart grows cold, you will be very cruel, very unjust. But I am sure you will always remain my faithful mistress, as I shall ever remain your fond lover. Death alone can break the chain which sympathy, love, and sentiment have forged. Let me have news of your health. A thousand and a thousand kisses.

No. 16.

To Josephine, at Milan.

Verona, November 23, 1796.

I don't love you an atom; on the contrary, I detest you. You are a good for nothing, very ungraceful, very tactless, very tatterdemalion. You never write to me; you don't care for your husband; you know the pleasure your letters give him, and you write him barely half-a-dozen lines, thrown off anyhow.

How, then, do you spend the livelong day, madam? What business of such importance robs you of the time to write to your very kind lover? What inclination stifles and alienates love, the affectionate and unvarying love which you promised me? Who may this paragon be, this new lover who engrosses all your time, is master of your days, and prevents you from concerning yourself about your husband? Josephine, be vigilant; one fine night the doors will be broken in, and I shall be before you.

Truly, my dear, I am uneasy at getting no news from you. Write me four pages immediately, and some of those charming remarks which fill my heart with the pleasures of imagination.

I hope that before long I shall clasp you in my arms, and cover you with a million kisses as burning as if under the equator.

Bonaparte.

No. 17.

Verona, November 24, 1796.

I hope soon, darling, to be in your arms. I love you to distraction. I am writing to Paris by this courier. All goes well. Wurmser was beaten yesterday under Mantua. Your husband only needs Josephine's love to be happy.