Chapter 787: The "Harvest"
Before the Pavia position, Napoleon lifted his hat from a distance, offering a nod of approval to Marmont. "Your outstanding performance truly astonishes me, Auguste.
"I couldn't contact you, yet you precisely selected the optimal interception point and dealt a fatal blow to the enemy.
"I had prepared for a tough battle, but now, haha, we can sit down and enjoy some coffee."
Marmont seemed a little flustered, spurring his horse forward. "I merely did what I had to do, uh, actually, the enemy collapsed at the first blow...
"By the way, I heard from the captured officers that you've successfully captured Milan?"
He wasn't being humble; in truth, his main force was still on its way to Milan.
He had previously noticed Liptay's sudden retreat, guessing that the latter was heading to reinforce Milan, so he ordered his troops to pursue eastward.
But he also worried that Liptay might be going to Lodi to intercept Colonel Bonaparte—if Napoleon's raiding party had moved slower, it was possible they hadn't yet crossed the Po River.
Feeling uneasy, he personally led 2,500 soldiers along the east bank of the Po River to reinforce Lodi.
Marmont's force of over two thousand then splendidly captured more than 4,000 Austrian soldiers.
He had no idea that Liptay's corps, upon seeing him, had concluded it was the main French force arriving from Milan to attack them.
This army, having been severely battered by Napoleon at Toulon, was already in low spirits. They immediately surrendered in fear, and Liptay couldn't stop them.
"Yes, I have successfully secured Milan."
Napoleon looked around, a little confused. "Why are there so few soldiers? Where's our main force?"
"They are currently on their way to Milan, Commander."
Once Napoleon understood the situation, he immediately instructed Marmont:
"Send someone to catch up with them at once and tell them to wait outside Milan."
"Yes, Commander. But why do we need to do that?"
Napoleon gazed at the column of prisoners, which stretched for nearly a kilometer, and smiled faintly:
"We need a grand entrance ceremony."
Two days later, rhythmic cannon fire echoed outside Milan, followed by the blare of military bands.
On this day, all shops and factories in Milan were ordered to close. Tens of thousands of citizens gathered along both sides of the road south of the city, craning their necks to peer into the distance.
Soon, a majestic column of French cavalry, carrying golden fleur-de-lis flags, Montpellier Legion banners, and Moulins Legion standards, rode past the crowds in perfect formation.
Behind them, a French infantry regiment, their Auguste Pattern Percussion Rifles slung over their shoulders, sternly herded a large number of dejected prisoners slowly into the city.
The prisoners were all clad in ragged Austrian uniforms, some with bloodstains on their bodies and faces—Napoleon had specifically instructed that they not be allowed to clean themselves.
Some onlookers began to throw clods of dirt at the Austrian soldiers. Heaven knows, this was not a pre-arranged act by Napoleon. Before any hired provocateurs could even move, the Italians had already lost their patience.
Soon, dirt clods flew everywhere, even mixed with excrement, striking the prisoners and eliciting cries of pain.
It was only when French soldiers intervened to maintain order that the Milanese citizens ceased, otherwise, many prisoners would surely have been killed.
There were four to five thousand captured Austrian soldiers, and it took a full hour and a half for all of them to enter Milan.
After someone quickly cleared the debris from the road, a triumphant blast of trumpets resounded.
A short officer, dressed in a white Hussar uniform and wearing a tricorn hat, marched proudly past the people, flanked by a hundred cavalry guards and numerous drummers and organists.
Someone took the lead in shouting, "Long live His Majesty the King of France!"
"Glory and victory to General Bonaparte!"
"Praise the great French Heavenly Army!"
"Welcome, liberators..."
Yes, this time it was definitely Napoleon's hired provocateurs.
The cheers soon reverberated throughout Milan. People were as excited as if their own army had defeated the Austrians, singing and dancing in the streets to celebrate the victory.
In that moment, all Milanese knew that Habsburg rule over Milan had come to an end.
Inside the Milan City Hall, a grand banquet commenced.
Napoleon and a dozen French officers sat at the head table. Prominent Milanese nobles and wealthy merchants gathered there, hoping to curry favor with the French.
Listening to the elegant music, Napoleon's gaze swept over the oil paintings on the hall's walls. He turned to the Vice Speaker of the Milan Council and remarked, "The enthusiasm of our Milanese friends truly moves me, especially your donations for my soldiers. Oh, a full 2 million francs.
"You are truly the most generous people I have ever met! I swear, I will protect Milan's safety with my life."
Giuseppina, the Vice Speaker of Milan, was taken aback. Of course, there had been donations to the French army; it was customary to offer a 'token of goodwill' when new conquerors entered the city.
But the amount was wrong. He instinctively said, "Uh, did you perhaps misremember? It should be 400,000 francs..."
Napoleon's voice instantly turned cold. "Oh? I distinctly remember it being 3 million. Has someone embezzled the donations? It seems I'll need to have the Military Police conduct a thorough investigation in Milan."
Giuseppina's heart lurched. The meaning was clear: if there weren't 3 million francs, many people would undoubtedly be thrown into prison.
Currently, Milan's Governor Ferdinand and the Austrian-born Speaker of the Council had already fled to Vienna, leaving Giuseppina as Milan's highest administrative official. He knew that if he failed to satisfy the French, they would certainly replace him with a more compliant person, and he would likely become that 'embezzler'.
He hurriedly forced a smile. "Oh, I meant that many donations are still being tallied. The total is indeed 3 million francs. The day after tomorrow, all donations will surely be delivered to your headquarters before noon."
Napoleon nodded with satisfaction and continued, "You know, our army has traveled from the far side of the Alps for Milan's freedom, and we are currently experiencing a shortage of supplies.
"I hope you can prepare a month's worth of provisions for my soldiers. Oh, enough for about 15,000 men, including food, wine, oats, and gunpowder. A week should be enough time, wouldn't you agree?"
Giuseppina squeezed out a smile. "A week, of course. I guarantee you will see sufficient supplies by then."
Napoleon also smiled, leaning closer to his ear. "By the way, I heard that Raphael's 'The Marriage of the Virgin' is in the Governor's Palace?"
"Yes, yes," Giuseppina nodded, quickly catching on. "It should belong to a collector of your refined taste."
"Oh, and Michelangelo's..."
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