eded horses and guns they could not be used;
while on the eastern edge of their broken front their cannon and
horse, crowded together in the valley of the Adige, had to climb the
winding road under the plunging fire of the French infantry and
artillery. Nevertheless, such was the ardour of the Austrian attack,
that the tide of battle at first set strongly in their favour. Driving
the French from the San Marco ridge and pressing their centre hard
between Monte Baldo and Rivoli, they made it possible for their troops
in the valley to struggle on towards the foot of the zigzag; and on
the west their distant right wing was already beginning to threaten
the French rear. Despite the arrival of Massena's troops from Verona
about 9 a.m., the republicans showed signs of unsteadiness. Joubert on
the ground above the Adige, Berthier in the centre, and Massena on the
left, were gradually forced back. An Austrian column, advancing from
the side of Monte Baldo by the narrow ravine, stole round the flank of
a French regiment in front of Massena's division, and by a vigorous
charge sent it flying in a panic which promised to spread to another
regiment thus uncovered. This was too much for the veteran, already
dubbed "the spoilt child of victory "; he rushed to its captain,
bitterly upbraided him and the other officers, and finally showered
blows on them with the flat of his sword. Then, riding at full speed
to two tried regiments of his own division, he ordered them to check
the foe; and these invincible heroes promptly drove back the
assailants. Even so, however, the valour of the best French regiments
and the skill of Massena, Berthier, and Joubert barely sufficed to
hold back the onstreaming tide of white-coats opposite Rivoli.

Yet even at this crisis the commander, confident in his central
position, and knowing his ability to ward off the encircling swoops of
the Austrian eagle, maintained that calm demeanour which moved the
wonder of smaller minds. His confidence in his seasoned troops was not
misplaced. The Imperialists, overburdened by long marches and faint
now for lack of food, could not maintain their first advantage. Some
of their foremost troops, that had won the broken ground in front of
St. Mark's Chapel, were suddenly charged by French horse; they fled in
panic, crying out, "French cavalry!" and the space won was speedily
abandoned to the tricolour. This sudden rebuff was to dash all their
hopes of victory; for at that