h. Ill could the struggling colony spare him at that time.

On May 10, 1796, Napoleon carried the bridge at Lodi, in the face of
the Austrian batteries. Fourteen cannon--some accounts say
thirty--were trained upon the French end of the structure. Behind them
were six thousand troops. Napoleon massed four thousand grenadiers at
the head of the bridge, with a battalion of three hundred carbineers in
front. At the tap of the drum the foremost assailants wheeled from the
cover of the street wall under a terrible hail of grape and canister,
and attempted to pass the gateway to the bridge. The front ranks went
down like stalks of grain before a reaper; the column staggered and
reeled backward, and the valiant grenadiers were appalled by the task
before them. Without a word or a look of reproach, Napoleon placed
himself at their head, and his aides and generals rushed to his side.
Forward again, this time over heaps of dead that choked the passage,
and a quick run, counted by seconds only, carried the column across two
hundred yards of clear space, scarcely a shot from the Austrians taking
effect beyond the point where the platoons wheeled for the first leap.
So sudden and so miraculous was it all that the Austrian artillerists
abandoned their guns instantly, and instead of rushing to the front and
meeting the French onslaught, their supports fled in a panic. This
Napoleon had counted on in making the bold attack. The contrast
between Napoleon's slight figure and the massive grenadiers suggested
the nickname "Little Corporal."

When Stephen of Colonna fell into the hands of base assailants, they
asked him in derision, "Where is now your fortress?" "Here," was his
bold reply, placing his hand upon his heart.

After the Mexican War General McClellan was employed as a topographical
engineer in surveying the Pacific coast. From his headquarters at
Vancouver he had gone on an exploring expedition with two companions, a
soldier and a servant, when one evening he received word that the
chiefs of the Columbia River tribes desired to confer with him. From
the messenger's manner he suspected that the Indians meant mischief,
and so he warned his companions that they must be ready to leave camp
at a moment's notice.

Mounting his horse, he rode boldly into the Indian village. About
thirty chiefs were holding council. McClellan was led into the circle,
and placed at the right hand of Saltese. He was familiar with the
Chi