He was silent for a moment, reflecting on the bloody crossing of the River Adda at Lodi that had taken most of the day. Several times the grenadiers had advanced towards the bridge along a narrow causeway under murderous fire from the far bank and it was not until after six in the evening that his men had broken through and the French army had started to cross in strength.The pursuit of the Austrians had continued until darkness fell, and only then had the French made camp for the night. By the time the headquarters tents had been set up it was past midnight and the officers around Napoleon were bleary-eyed and exhausted. Like their men, he reflected. Well, it was too bad. The impetus had to be maintained to force the Austrians to turn and fight, and if they didn’t then they must be chased right out of Italy, leaving only the massive fortress at Mantua to deal with. That could be starved into submission by a covering force while Napoleon led the rest of the army into the Tyrol. The Austrians would then be caught between the Army of Italy and the Army of the Rhine, which even now should be pushing towards Austria on the far side of the Alps, according to the Directory’s grand strategy.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked, fighting back his desire for sleep. Then he pulled a map towards him and pointed out the next river barrier.

‘If things run true to form, Beaulieu will fall back behind the Oglio. If we can force him back from that line, then we can cut off Mantua.’

Junot cleared his throat. ‘Is that wise, sir? Shouldn’t we consolidate our gains first? Now that Beaulieu has retreated, Milan must fall to us. Our troops need to rest. And, as you pointed out, thanks to the length of our supply lines we’re running out of powder and rations. But most of all we need more men, sir.’

‘He’s right,’ Serurier added. ‘We’ve been promised reinforcements for months. So far I’ve not had one man to replace my losses. Sir, you said that there would be more men.’

‘I’ve written to the Directory to request reinforcements on more occasions than I care to remember,’ Napoleon said wearily. ‘You would think that after all we have achieved they would give us the tools to win further victories. But it seems that the Directory has decided that all available men will be sent to the Army of the Rhine.’

‘That’s not quite what I’ve heard,’ Masséna growled. ‘We’ve been sent reinforcements, but that bastard Kellermann is creaming them off for the Army of the Alps as they march through his area of operations.’

‘That is a rumour,’ Napoleon said firmly. ‘Those men must have been sent to him, not us.’

‘You really think so, sir?’ Masséna smiled bitterly.