Marengo Page 6
Chapter 3
The Savona plot
‘Go scout out the land leading up to the Great St Bernard Pass,’ he’d been told – the pass at the top of the Aosta Valley. ‘Check the Great St Bernard. Take your uncle Costa’s notes and have a good look round.’ That was his mission, his contribution to the imperial war effort during the winter lull.1 Henri Milliet de Faverges et de Challes, Marquis de Faverges (1775‑1839) was a native of Chambéry, the historic capital of the Duchy of Savoy, an alpine region now forming part of France, Italy and Switzerland. Although Faverges was born on the French side of the Alps, at the time of the storming of the Bastille in 1789, Savoy found itself part of the Kingdom of Sardinia, under the reign of Victor Amadeus III (1726‑1796), whose capital was in Turin, on the Italian side of the mountains. This kingdom included Savoy, Aosta, the County of Nice, Piedmont and of course the island of Sardinia itself. It is worth remembering that at this time, pre-Risorgimento (unification), Italy, like Germany, was a geographical expression only; a collection of independent states of one description or another, not by any means a united political entity.
Controlling many of the alpine passes into the rich plains and cities of northern Italy, Savoy was a key strategic possession. When the wars of the French Revolution broke out in 1792, France quickly moved to annex Savoy. This act of hostility caused Victor Amadeus to join the First Coalition against France, allying himself with the Habsburg Empire, Prussia, Great Britain, Spain and Holland. In his seventeenth year, Faverges upheld his family’s long tradition of military service and joined the corps of Royal Grenadiers. For three years, the soldiers of Victor Amadeus waged war in the mountains and alpine passes, preventing the French from descending into Italy; all until a newly wed, 26-year-old Corsican general named Napoleon Bonaparte took control of the French Army of Italy in March 1796. Within a matter of weeks, General Bonaparte and his bedraggled soldiers were victorious everywhere. Victor Amadeus was obliged to sign an armistice and formally quit the coalition, ceding Savoy and Nice to France and permitting the passage of French troops through Piedmont.
Gaining passage through Piedmont allowed the French to sweep along the River Po, through Piacenza, into Lombardy, entering Milan on 15 May 1796, and then Verona on 3 June. The relentless pace of Bonaparte’s advance was slowed by the great fortress city of Mantua and successive Austrian attempts to relieve the place; but by February 1797, Mantua had fallen. By April, the French were marching on Vienna itself and the Habsburgs were forced to seek an armistice with Bonaparte at Leoben on 18 April. This in turn led to general peace negotiations, ratified in the Treaty of Campo Formio which was signed on 18 October 1797, formerly bringing the war, and the military coalition against France, to a close.
There was something of a lull for half a year, and then the irrepressible Bonaparte took much of his Army of Italy off on their oriental interlude. While Bonaparte entertained lofty ambitions of emulating Alexander the Great, Faverges found himself in somewhat of a quandary. Bonaparte had spared Victor Amadeus’ throne (somewhat to the surprise of the Italian revolutionaries who had aided the French), but the king lived just a few months more, dying on 16 October 1796. His successor, Charles Emmanuel IV, maintained his independence only a little over a year, until in December 1798, the French occupied Turin and forced him to abdicate to the island of Sardinia. A pro-French provisional government was formed and the Piedmontese Republic was declared. With the abdication of the king, Faverges had a decision to make. No longer bound by his oath of loyalty to the monarch, he chose to serve in the army of another nation. Of noble birth and carrying the scars of several French musket balls in his body, there was little chance of him throwing in his lot with the godless republicans. Instead, he chose Austria and joined the imperial army of the Habsburg Empire.
For most of Faverges’ new brothers-in-arms, the lull after the fall of Cuneo was a time to make good and recuperate, to prepare themselves for a new campaign. At this time, Faverges was serving as a staff officer under the imperial army’s quartermaster general, or chief of staff, Anton Zach. As an officer on the staff, the winter break was a busy time of planning and preparation. Somewhere over the looming Alps, the French were also preparing. In 1799, Bonaparte had returned from Egypt, then seized power in France in the Brumaire coup. The spy reports and open sources indicated the new French First Consul was planning to build a new army in France to reverse the misfortunes of 1799. Thus in the early months of 1800, Faverges set off for the Aosta valley on his mission to put his local knowledge to the test and scout up to the Great St Bernard Pass. He took with him a set of notes written by his uncle, Joseph Henri Costa de Beauregard (1752‑1824), a topographical engineer in the Piedmontese Army. He was accompanied on this mission by his ‘domestic’, an orderly by the name of Jusping – an indiscreet ‘comedian’ all too quick to dent his master’s ego. Faverges forgave him this because the man was a genius at making omelettes and risotto.
Having escaped an encounter with bandits (after eight years of conflict, the mountains were home to all sorts of itinerant desperados) and an angry husband whose wife made keen eyes at the officer (or so Faverges flattered himself), Faverges reported to the local commander at Aosta, General Major (GM) August de Briey, who commanded a body of troops including the Franz-Kinsky Infantry Regiment and some Croatian grenzers – light troops drawn from the empire’s borders with the Ottoman Empire. GM de Briey was in his early fifties, a native of the Austrian Netherlands, and with very little military experience – in Faverges’ opinion. He appeared to be living reasonably comfortably in a country house, which he shared with a pockmarked ADC and four other ‘scatterbrains’.
No doubt irritated by the energetic Savoyard, GM de Briey allowed Faverges to get on with his mission without too much interference. A local guide was arranged: a hunter who specialized in stalking alpine chamois. The two men explored the Aosta valley. This was a region of steep mountains, lakes and glaciers, cut by the Dora Baltea River which flows down from the slopes of Mont Blanc, eastwards to Aosta, before turning sharply south on its journey to the great River Po. For a traveller on the Italian side, the entrance to the valley was protected by the imposing fort of Bard. Only after passing this stronghold could an army venture out of the alpine pass and reach Ivrea, from where one might join the roads to Turin or Milan. After years of warfare, the mountainous valleys were desolate, with agriculture neglected and many houses burned. At the heads of the valley were two road passes, the Little St Bernard (2,188m) and the Great St Bernard (2,469 m), which connected Aosta to Martigny in the Valais canton of Switzerland. At the top of the Great St Bernard Pass was a hospice for travellers, looked after by monks and their giant dogs. Although difficult, this alpine pass was a long-established route for travellers. It had a Roman road and formed the medieval Via Francigena, one of the main routes of pilgrimage through Western Europe leading from Canterbury in England to Rome. As was the case with most of the Alpine passes in the winter of 1799–1800, when the French had retreated across the mountains they left detachments of soldiers at the heads of the valleys. Although these detachments were not full garrisons in their own right, they were certainly enough to scout the passes and give warning of hostile moves against them. Possession of them would give the French a strategic advantage in the coming campaign season.
In his memoirs, Faverges states that the Austrians considered the snow-bound Alps an impenetrable barrier in winter. Indeed, some of the mountain passes his guide led him to explore were, in his words, ‘neck breaking’. However, as he became used to the conditions up in the mountains, the young staff officer began to show a greater interest in the French position at the top of the Great St Bernard Pass. The huntsman revealed there were paths up over the mountains which would allow them to capture the pass from the French. One was a route up to the ‘chalet of Faggian’ which led down to Orsières on the French side of the pass. It was then a case of marching up the road to St Pierre and taking the French troops by surprise from the rear o
f their position. There was another route too; one only practicable in the depths of winter when the snow was frozen solid. It led towards an adjacent valley to the west of the Great St Bernard, where the village of Ferret was located. From there, a precipitous path led almost directly down on top of the hospice. It would have seemed as if the Austrians had fallen from the sky. Faverges began to formulate ideas about seizing the pass from the French.
Returning to de Briey’s comfortable headquarters, Faverges outlined the possibility of capturing the pass. Faverges explained the two potential routes and offered the general the choice of which to attack, declaring he would personally lead the venture. De Briey listened to the proposal thoughtfully before giving his reply:
‘Madness! Utter Madness!’
Why, de Briey wanted to know, should he risk the lives of his troops on such an ill-conceived adventure on top of an ice-bound mountain? What possible gain could outweigh the inevitable loss of life such an escapade would entail? Somewhat crestfallen, Faverges accepted the general’s decision. The two men supped together, then went to a social engagement at the home of Madam Bard. Writing his memoirs years after the event, the Savoyard admitted he then had no idea what part the Great St Bernard Pass would play in the great drama of 1800, but his instinct to deprive the French of the pass was the correct one. De Briey is said to have admitted his mistake too, and apparently later blew his brains out in remorse for not having acted with more audacity. We do not know if this is true or not, but this story is the first of several missed opportunities on the part of the Austrians that year. Much worse is to come.
Faverges remained some time at Aosta until he was recalled to Turin. Arriving in the Piedmontese capital, he went to make his report to his chief, a little before 25 February. The chief of staff was suffering from an eye infection, so Faverges found Zach in his quarters, in a state of undress, sitting in his bed, the blankets covered with maps and various documents. Somewhat affronted by his commander’s toilette, Faverges compared Zach to a hoopoe bird, a creature known for emitting ill odours and wallowing in its own filth. Nevertheless, he gave an account of his time in the mountains, and may even have outlined his scheme for capturing the Great St Bernard, but he was interrupted.
A second staff officer arrived in the room, Lieutenant Colonel Anton von Biking (sometimes written as ‘Piking’). The appearance of this officer was evidently unexpected, and had the effect of an electric shock on Zach.
‘What! What!’ Zach exclaimed, throwing his bed covers into the air. ‘What are you doing here?’
Biking stood in the middle of the room and rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had not expected his appearance to elicit such a response.
‘I was recalled,’ Biking said at last.
‘What! By whom? How?’
‘But, by order of the commander-in-chief!’
‘By order of the commander-in-chief!’ Zach exclaimed. ‘Oh my God, the madmen! That imbecile Melas! That blasted Radetzky! Everything has gone to the devil!’
Zach jumped out of bed and hurriedly began to dress. Slightly bemused by the exchange, Faverges thought it would be helpful to tell Zach his cravat was not straight and his shirt was hanging out of the back of his breeches, but the chief of staff was already running up the staircase ‘with gouty legs’, heading in the direction of Melas, the commander-in-chief. So what had these ‘madmen’ done to enrage Zach so? This takes some explaining, but it is crucial for our account, because at this moment, rarely discussed in other accounts of 1800, the Austrians may perhaps have just lost the war.
We remember the final act of the 1799 campaign. The spy Gioelli had just brought about the surrender of the city of Cuneo. This effectively cleared the republican forces out of northern Italy. On 5 December 1799, Zach presented the Austrian commander, Melas, a strategic review of the Austrian situation. An excerpt reads:
‘The fall of Cuneo has made all the enemy’s hopes of being able to hold out across this winter evaporate. Their next operation can only be aimed at defeating our army in order to lay siege to a fortress, which would form a secure foothold in Piedmont for them. These fortresses can only be Cuneo or Alessandria. How little capability the enemy now has for such an offensive is only too obvious; we can consequently safely assume that the enemy will abandon all long-distance operations into Piedmont, merely limiting themselves to the defensive, occupying the mountain passes into the Riviera and thus deployed this way, await the spring. They would be acting more intelligently if they went into winter quarters to allow the wreckage of their troops, who have been ruined by their misfortunes, to recover and create a new army for themselves with which to recover Piedmont. For this reason, we can also go into winter quarters like them and promise ourselves some rest.’2
Zach added something of a caveat to this assessment. With the fall of Cuneo, clearly the Austrians had the superior morale and physical superiority. Should they not press on into the Riviera and drive the French out before they had time to recover? If they waited until the spring, the enemy would recover. Should they strike now? There was certainly a case to be made for this course of action. However, on balance, Zach concluded the army needed rest and had earned a break to increase its strength, put everything into good order and reorganize.
This assertion is reflected in the account by staff officer Joseph Stutterheim. He recorded the army was ‘exhausted’, with some regiments reduced by sickness and combat casualties to an effective strength of just 300 men. If Zach had recommended a continuation of the campaign, it would likely have required laying siege to several major cities in the Ligurian Riviera, including Genoa and Savona. This would have sapped the army’s strength further and rendered it less able to withstand the inevitable French response in the new campaign season. So the Austrian army went into winter quarters. Having witnessed near continual strife and conflict for four years, the countryside was wasted, so Zach spread the army’s cantonments far and wide along the River Po.
For Zach, there was no real let-up in planning for the spring. Early in the New Year, he began to receive reports, some through secret means and others from the newspapers in Turin, that the French were planning to assemble a new army in the Dijon area. It stood to reason this army would march on Italy, perhaps through Switzerland and the St Gotthard once the alpine passes were clear in April. This would leave the Austrians in a difficult situation, caught between the French in the Rivera and those arriving from the north.
In Stutterheim’s account, we read that the Austrians knew the snow in the mountain passes over the Apennines generally cleared six weeks before those of the Alps. The imperial army therefore had this small window of opportunity to clear the French out of Liguria and form a defensive line against France along the River Var, before turning round to meet anything coming from the direction of Switzerland. This was the strategy Zach would recommend, and in addition to his spies (Gioelli was not the only one), the Austrian chief of staff ordered officers like Faverges up into the mountains to reconnoitre and report back to him on what they observed there.
At the same time, very much behind the scenes, Zach was working on yet another audacious scheme. Around the turn of the year, two officers in French service appeared in Turin and presented themselves to Melas. The Austrian commander turned them over to Zach for interrogation. They were Brigadier General Giulio Domenico Assereto and his adjutant, Chief of Battalion the Marquis de Sainte Croix. Assereto was a native of Genoa and commanded the town of Savona, the French army’s main store. In return for safe conduct for their families, Assereto claimed he could deliver Savona to the Austrians and issue a proclamation to the local population to rise up against the French. It all sounded too good to be true, but with Gioelli’s exploits in Cuneo still fresh in the mind, Zach did not discount the idea altogether. In fact he began to explore the opportunity in some detail. The Austrian chief of staff opened a secret correspondence with the pair and invited them to Turin, all the while suspecting them to be royalist agents posing as republicans.
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Savona was a tantalizing prize. Unlike the difficult route through the Bochetta Pass to the fortified port of Genoa, the mountains at Savona were somewhat lower. Savona was on the coast, 40km west of Genoa. If Savona could be captured, the French in Genoa would be cut off from France. Working in tandem with the British Royal Navy, Zach saw Genoa could be blockaded by sea and land, with little hope of relief. Meanwhile, the Austrian army would be able to push westwards toward Nice and the River Var, clearing the Riviera of French troops entirely. The cooperation of the British was key, as the narrowness of the Riviera placed French troop formations in the range of naval artillery. Fortunately for the Austrians, the British proved amenable to the idea, with the deepwater port of Genoa a strategic prize for them.
Through the course of January, the secret correspondence continued. Saint Croix travelled into Turin in disguise and announced a third French officer had joined the plot. The newcomer was Chief of Brigade Charles Sans Mascaril, whose principal motivation appears to have been to reignite a love affair with a lady in Piacenza, a city now in Austrian hands. A secret meeting with Sans Mascaril was hurriedly arranged, in which the Frenchman stated that the commandants of Savona and Vado, both Genoese, were prepared to join the plot. Sensing the time might be right to call the army out of winter quarters, Zach began to involve the Austrian commander at Alessandria, Feldmarschalleutnant (FML) Friedrich Franz Xaver Count Hohenzollern, in the planning. Using neutral passports purchased from the Danish Consulate in Genoa, a communication line was set up through Novi allowing these ‘men of the night’, as Hohenzollern described them, to come and go. Meanwhile, Zach drew up an operational plan and issued it to Melas, who referred the matter to Vienna and received an enthusiastic approval from their political masters.