ummit abortive; and the main body of the
Imperialists was already in confusion, and, indeed, in flight, before
one of their divisions, which had been sent round to outflank
Buonaparte, and take higher ground in his rear, was able to execute its
errand. When, accordingly, this division (that of Lusignan) at length
achieved its destined object--it did so, not to complete the misery of a
routed, but to swell the prey of a victorious enemy. Instead of cutting
off the retreat of Joubert, Lusignan found himself insulated from
Alvinzi, and forced to lay down his arms to Buonaparte. "Here was a good
plan," said Napoleon, "but these Austrians are not apt to calculate the
value of minutes." Had Lusignan gained the rear of the French an hour
earlier, while the contest was still hot in front of the heights of
Rivoli, he might have made the 14th of January one of the darkest,
instead of one of the brightest days, in the military chronicles of
Napoleon.

He, who in the course of this trying day had three horses shot under
him, hardly waited to see Lusignan surrender, and to entrust his
friends, Massena, Murat, and Joubert, with the task of pursuing the
flying columns of Alvinzi. He had heard during the battle, that Provera
had forced his way to the Lago di Guarda, and was already, by means of
boats, in communication with Mantua. The force of Augereau having proved
insufficient to oppose the march of the Imperialists' second column, it
was high time that Napoleon himself should hurry with reinforcements to
the Lower Adige, and prevent Wurmser from either housing Provera, or
joining him in the open field, and so effecting the escape of his own
still formidable garrison whether to the Tyrol or the Romagna.

Having marched all night and all next day, Napoleon reached the vicinity
of Mantua late on the 15th. He found the enemy strongly posted, and
Serrurier's situation highly critical. A regiment of Provera's hussars
had but a few hours before nearly established themselves in the suburb
of St. George. This Austrian corps had been clothed in white cloaks,
resembling those of a well-known French regiment; and advancing towards
the gate, would certainly have been admitted as friends--but for the
sagacity of one sergeant, who could not help fancying that the white
cloaks had too much of the gloss of novelty about them, to have stood
the tear and wear of three Buonapartean campaigns. This danger had been
avoided, but the utmost vigilance was