uncovered (except for the garrison which held the citadel), and abandoned more than the half of Lombardy; but, from the military point of view, his retreat to the Adda was thoroughly sound.  Yet here again a movement strategically correct was marred by tactical blunders.  Had he concentrated all his forces at the nearest point of the Adda which the French could cross, namely Pizzighetone, he would have rendered any flank march of theirs to the northward extremely hazardous; but he had not yet sufficiently learned from his terrible teacher the need of concentration; and, having at least three passages to guard, he kept his forces too spread out to oppose a vigorous move against any one of them.  Indeed, he despaired of holding the line of the Adda, and retired eastwards with a great part of his army.

Consequently, when Bonaparte, only three days after the seizure of Piacenza, threw his almost undivided force against the town of Lodi, his passage was disputed only by the rearguard, whose anxiety to cover the retreat of a belated detachment far exceeded their determination to defend the bridge over the Adda.  This was a narrow structure, some eighty fathoms long, standing high above the swift but shallow river.  Resolutely held by well-massed troops and cannon, it might have cost the French a severe struggle:  but the Imperialists were badly handled:  some were posted in and around the town which was between the river and the advancing French; and the weak walls of Lodi were soon escaladed by the impetuous republicans.  The Austrian commander, Sebottendorf, now hastily ranged his men along the eastern bank of the river, so as to defend the bridge and prevent any passage of the river by boats or by a ford above the town.  The Imperialists numbered only 9,627 men; they were discouraged by defeats and by the consciousness that no serious stand could be attempted before they reached the neighbourhood of Mantua; and their efforts to break down the bridge were now frustrated by the French, who, posted behind the walls of Lodi on the higher bank of the stream, swept their opponents’ position with a searching artillery fire.  Having shaken the constancy of his foes and refreshed his own infantry by a brief rest in Lodi, Bonaparte at 6 p.m. secretly formed a column of his choicest troops and hurled it against the bridge.  A hot fire of grapeshot and musketry tore its front, and for a time the column bent before the iron hail.  But, encouraged by the words of their young leader, generals, corporals, and grenadiers pressed home their charge.  This time, aided by sharp-shooters who waded to islets in the river, the assailants cleared the bridge, bayoneted the Austrian cannoneers, attacked the first and second lines of supporting foot, and, when reinforced, compelled horse and foot to retreat towards Mantua.[46] Such was the affair of Lodi (May 10th).  A legendary glamour hovers around all the details of this conflict and invests it with fictitious importance.  Beaulieu’s