MY father was the more exasperated because he knew that with all the will in the world it was impossible for Bonaparte to have believed for one instant those words "looked on", since it was by reason of the very orders he had received from him that my father had made that heroic defence of the 27th, when he drove the marshal's troop back into Mantua with a force three times less in numbers.
I give below the orders Bonaparte dictated to Berthier at the very moment when, after having left him at the presbytery of St. Antoine, my father had repulsed Wurmser's nocturnal sally at the head of a mere handful of dragoons.
Sign in to unlock this title
Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit.
