Title: The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot
Author: Marbot, Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

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Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

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Title:  The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot

Author:  General the Baron de Marbot

Translator:  Oliver.C.Colt

April, 2001  [Etext #2598]

Project Gutenberg Etext The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot
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THE MEMOIRS OF GENERAL THE BARON DE MARBOT.

Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

Volume 1.

Table of contents

Chap. 1. Origins of my family. My father joins the bodyguard. The de Certain family. Life at Larivière. Episode in infancy.

Chap. 2. Outbreak of revolution. My father's attitude. He rejoins the army. I go to Mlle. Mongalvi. My life as a boarder.

Chap. 3. My father is posted to Toulouse. He takes me with him. 
The convoy of aristocrats. Life at Toulouse. I am taken to Sorèze.

Chap. 4. Life at Sorèze. Early hardships. Visit of representative
of the people.

Chap. 5. I join my family in Paris. My father is given command of
the 17th division in Paris. He refuses to join with Sieyès and hands
the command to Lefebvre.

Chap. 6. My father is posted to Italy. How my career is begun. I
become a Hussar.

Chap. 7. My father leaves. Meeting with Bonaparte at Lyon. An
adventure on the Rhône. The cost of a Republican banquet. I am
presented to my commanding officer.

Chap. 8. Arrival at Nice. My mentor Pertelay. I become a true
Hussar. I join the "clique". My first duel. We rustle some cattle. The "Clique".

Chap. 9. How I get immediate promotion. The capture of 17 enemy
Hussars.

Chap. 10. Campaign in Piedmont. General Macard. Capture of enemy
cannons. I am promoted to Sous-lieutenant. I become aide de camp to
my father.

Chap. 11. Retreat of the right wing of the army to Genoa. My father
wounded. The siege. My friend Trepano. Death of my father. Famine
and fighting.

Chap. 12. Episodes in the siege. Fate of Austrian captives.

Chap. 13. Napoleon crosses the St. Bernard. Masséna yields. Marengo. 
I return to my family. My extreme prostration.

Chap. 14. I am temporary aide de camp to Bernadotte. We go to Tours.

Chap. 15. At Brest and Rennes. I am posted to the 23rd Chasseurs, in
Portugal. Journey from Nantes to Salamanca. We form the right wing
of the Spanish army. Return to France.

Chap. 16. On the road from Bayonne to Toulouse. The inspection.

Chap. 17. The events at Rennes. My brother Adolphe is involved and
is sent to prison. Death of my brother Théodore.

Chap. 18. The school at Versailles. My mother's brothers.

Chap. 19. Preparations for invasion of Britain. I become aide de
camp to Augereau.

Chap. 20. Augereau.

Chap. 21. From Bayonne to Brest. 1804. Pichegru. Death of Duc
d'Enghien. Bonaparte becomes emperor.

Chap. 22. 1805. Institution of Legion of Honour. Camp at Boulogne. 
I am made lieutenant. Death of my brother Félix. Russia and Austria
declare war.

Chap. 23. The army heads for the Rhine. Mission to Masséna. 
Jellachich surrenders. The Hungarian Colonel.

Chap. 24. The march to Vienna. The battle at Dirnstein. Lannes and
Murat bluff their way across the Danube.

Chap. 25. Hollabrünn. I bring the flags captured at Breganz to the
Emperor. The danger of a white lie.

Chap. 26. The Prussian Ambassador. Austerlitz. I save a Russian
sergeant.

Chap. 27. Meeting of the Emperors. Return to my unit. Darmstadt and
Frankfurt. 

Chap. 28. Mission to Prussia. Situation in Prussia.

Chap. 29. State of Prussian army. Wurtzberg. Saalefeld and death of
Prince Louis. Augereau and his former companions.

Chap. 30. Jena. The Curé. Auerstadt. The behaviour of Bernadotte. 
The entry into Berlin.

Chap. 31. Demoralisation of Prussians. Origin of the house of
Rothschild. With Duroc to the King of Prussia. Graudentz. The army
at the Vistula.

Chap. 32. Crossing of the Ukra. Various encounters. Cantonments on
the banks of the Vistula.

Chap. 33. 1807. Made Captain. Eylau. Destruction of Augereau's
corps. 

Chap. 34. My part in the battle of Eylau. My mare Lisette. I escape
death by a miracle. Return to Warsaw and Paris.

Chap. 35. Missions for the Emperor. I join Marshal Lannes. 
Hostilities resumed June 11th.

Chap. 36. Battle of Friedland. I escape from dangers. Treaty of
Tilsitt.

Chap. 37. Mission to Dresden. An unwitting smuggler. An incident at
Mainz. Paris and La Houssaye.

Introduction.
General, later the Baron, Marbot, came from a family which might be
described as landed gentry. His father served in the bodyguard of
Louis XV and later in the Republican army. Marbot himself was a
soldier from the age of 17 and fought in the wars of the Republic and
the campaigns of Napoleon. His memoirs were written for his family
and his intimate circle, without thought of publication, and it was
not until after his death in 1854 that his family were persuaded to
offer the manuscript to publishers.

This is not a meticulously researched historical document, but the
reminiscences of an old soldier, writing of events which took place
many years earlier and I suspect that like most of us when we try to
recall things that happened forty years ago his memory was a trifle
indistinct.

By far the greater part of his narrative has the ring of truth,
but in my opinion there are places where his imagination has
embroidered the facts. This is particularly so when it comes to some
of his personal adventures. He also,in my view, describes as real,
events in which he did not take part and which may be no more than
popular rumour.

It has to be remembered that there were no inquisitive war
correspondents attached to the "Grande Armée" and news was what was
written in Napoleon's bulletins. 

As an example of the kind of thing which raises a question in my
mind, in his opening chapter he says that he was a very sturdy infant
and that the only illness he ever suffered from was small-pox. This
does not seem probable; an outbreak of small-pox in the family would
be a disastrous occurrence, it is a disease with a high mortality and
could not be dismissed as a childish complaint. He also goes on to
describe how his head got stuck in the cat-hole, but in the original
he claims that his face turned blue and that he was being strangled
when his father removed the door from its hinges to extricate him.
Anyone who has attempted to remove a door from its hinges knows that
you cannot do so without opening the door and using at least a
screwdriver. It is also an operation which is difficult to perform
single-handed and with a small child stuck in it even more so. He
says that he was about three or four at the time, and the long-term
memory does not start developing in a child until around the age of
four. I think it more than likely that that good Baron has a false
recollection derived from being told of these goings on by his mother
and truly believes that he remembers them. A misdiagnosis of
small-pox would not be surprising given the inadequate state of
medical knowledge and practice of the time.

I do not doubt that he ran great danger and was seriously injured
at Eylau, but there are elements in his recital which although they
enhance the drama and would pass muster with the lay reader, are open
to criticism by anyone with a medical training. He says that while he
was attempting to release the "Eagle" from its standard, a bullet
passed through his hat without touching his head. As a result of this
he claims that he found himself paralysed and unable to use his legs
to urge his horse forward, although he remained mentally perfectly
clear. He says that the passage of the bullet close to his head
caused bleeding from his nose and ears and even from his eyes, signs
which a clinician would regard as probably indicating a serious
fracture of the base of the skull.

I am not a neurologist, but I can think of no neurological injury
which would produce the type of paralysis which he describes except a
high lesion of the spinal cord. What is more, within a few moments he
is in the saddle of a galloping horse and I cannot imagine that
anyone suffering from a form of paralysis could remain there for very
long.

The thoughtful reader may also wonder how the soldier who robbed
him as he lay unconscious could suppose that he was dead, an
unconscious person is quite plainly breathing.

Could it be that having been rendered unconscious as a result of
the fall from his horse, he has some degree of retrograde amnesia and
has invented details to fill the gaps in his memory, or could it be
that writing, as he was, for his family and friends, he was indulging
in a little pardonable exaggeration.

In spite of these reservations the story he tells is full of life
and interest, and gives a vivid impression of war as it was fought
then, including all its horrors and disasters.

In this translation I have not deviated from the gist of events,
but I have taken the liberty of making a variety of omissions and
emendations, with the aim of adding credibility to some of the
events, such as those noted above. I have also prefaced some of his
anecdotes, which he retails as fact, with the words "It is believed
that..." or something to that effect.

The campaigns can be followed by the use of a good atlas, but
unfortunately the many upheavals which Europe has undergone since
those days has resulted in many of the names of places being changed.
The curious reader may well find maps dealing with the Napoleonic
wars in any well stocked public library.

All translation requires some degree of paraphrase. What sounds
well in one language may sound ridiculous if translated literally
into another. I have endeavoured to produce a version of these
memoirs acceptable to the English-speaking reader, whether I have
succeeded or not only the reader can say.

Oliver.C.Colt

THE MEMOIRS OF GENERAL THE BARON DE MARBOT.

Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

Chap. 1.

I was born on the 18th August 1782 at my father's Château of
Larivière, in the beautiful valley of Beaulieu, on the borders of
Limousin and Quercy--now the department of Corrèze--where my
father owned a considerable property.

The family of Marbot was of noble origin, although for a long time
they had not preceded their name by any title. To use a then current
expression, they lived nobly, that is to say on the income from their
estates, without engaging in any form of employment. They were allied
to and joined in the society of several of the important families of
the district.

I mention this because, at a time when the nobility were so
haughty and powerful, it shows that the family had a social position
of considerable standing.

My father was born in 1753. He had a rather fiery temperament,
but he was so good-hearted that, after a first outburst, he always
sought to make one forget any hasty words which he might have
uttered. He was a fine figure of a man, very tall and well built,
with handsome, manly features.

My grandfather had become a widower when my father was still at
school. His house was run by one of his elderly cousins, the oldest
of the demoiselles Oudinet of Beaulieu. She gave unstinting care to
my grandfather, who, having become almost blind as a result of a
flash of lightning, which had struck near him, no longer went out of
his manor. Thus my father, when he reached manhood, faced by an
infirm old man and an aunt devoted to his least wishes, could have
played fast and loose with the family fortune. He did not, however,
abuse his position, but as he had a great fancy for a military
career, he accepted a proposal which was made to him by colonel the
Marquis d'Estresse, a neighbour and close friend of the family, which
was to have him enrolled in the bodyguard of the king, Louis XV.

Being under the auspices of the Marquis d'Estresse, he was
received in a number of houses; notably that of lieutenant-general
the Comte de Schomberg, the inspector-general of cavalry, who,
recognising my father's worth, had him posted to his regiment of
dragoons as captain, and took him as his aide-de-camp.

On the death of my grandfather my father was still unmarried, and
his fortune, as well as his place in the Royal Bodyguard, put him in
a position to choose a wife, without the likelihood of being refused.

There lived at that time, in the Château de Laval de Cère, about
a league from Larivière, a family of noble rank but without much
money, named de Certain. The head of this house was stricken by gout
and so his affairs were managed by Madame de Certain, an admirable
woman, who came from the noble family of de Verdal, who claim to have
Saint Roch amongst the kinsfolk of their ancestors on the distaff
side, a Verdal, so they say, having married a sister of the Saint at
Montpellier. I do not know how much truth there is in this claim,
but before the Revolution of 1789, there was, at the gateway of the
old château of Gruniac, owned by the de Verdals, a stone bench, which was greatly venerated by the inhabitants of the nearby mountains, because, according to tradition, St. Roch, when he came to visit his sister, used to sit on this bench, from where one can view the countryside, which one cannot do from the château, which is a sort of fortress of the gloomiest kind.

The de Certains had three sons and a daughter, and as was the
custom at that time they added to their family name that of some
estate. Thus the eldest son was given the name Canrobert: this
eldest son was, at the time of which I write, Chevalier de St. Louis
and a captain in the infantry regiment of Penthièvre; the second son
who was called de L'Isle was a lieutenant in the same regiment; the
third son, who had the surname La Coste served, like my father, in the
Royal Bodyguard; the daughter was called Mlle. Du Puy,and she was my
mother.

My father became a close friend of M. Certain de La Coste, and it
would have been difficult to do otherwise, for quite apart from the
three months which they spent in quarters at Versailles during their
period of duty, the journeys which they made together, twice a year,
were bound to make a bond between them.

At that time public coaches were very few in number, dirty,
uncomfortable, and travelled by very short stages; also it was
considered not at all fashionable to ride in them. So, gentry who
were old or in poor health travelled by carriage, while the young and
officers in the armed forces went on horseback. There was an
established custom among the Bodyguard, which today would seem most
peculiar. As these gentlemen did only three months on duty, and as
in consequence the corps was split into four almost equal sections,
those of them who lived in Brittany, the Auvergne, Limousin and other
parts of the country where there were good small horses had bought a
number of these at a price not exceeding 100 francs, which included
the saddle and bridle. On a fixed day all the Bodyguards from the
same province, who were called to go and take up their duties, would
meet, on horseback, at an agreed spot and the cheerful caravanserai
would take the road for Versailles.

They made twelve to fifteen leagues each day, sure of finding
every evening, at an agreed and reasonable price, a good lodging and
a good supper at the inns previously arranged as stopping places.
They went happily on their way, talking, singing, putting up with bad
weather or heat as they did with accidents and laughing at the
stories which all, in turn, had to tell as they rode along.

The group grew in size by the arrival of Bodyguards from the
provinces through which they passed until, at last, the various
parties arrived from all parts of France to enter Versailles on the
day on which their leave expired, and, in consequence, at the moment
of departure of those guards whom they had come to relieve. Then each
of these latter bought one of the ponies brought by the new arrivals,
for which they paid 100 francs, and forming fresh groups they took to
the road for their paternal châteaux, where they turned the horses
out to grass for nine months, until they were taken back to
Versailles and handed over to other comrades-in-arms.

My father, then, was a close friend of M. Certain de La Coste, who
shared the same quarters and belonged, like him, to the company de
Noailles. On their return to the country they saw much of each
other, and he made the acquaintance of Mlle. Du Puy. Mlle. Du Puy was
pretty and high spirited, and although she would have little in the
way of dowry, and although several rich matches were offered to my
father, he preferred Mlle. Du Puy, and he married her in 1776.

We were four brothers: the eldest Adolphe, myself the second,
Théodore the third and Félix the last. There was a gap of about two
years between our ages.

I was very sturdy and suffered only some minor illnesses, but when
I was about three, I had an accident which I can still remember.

Because I had a rather turned-up nose and a round face, my father
called me "pussy-cat". It needed no more than this to give a small
child the desire to imitate a cat; so it was my greatest pleasure to
go about on all fours, mewing. I was also in the habit of going up
to the second floor of the château to join my father in a library,
where he spent the hottest hours of the day. When he heard the
"miaow" of his little cat, he came and opened the door and gave me a
picture-book to look at while he continued his reading. These little
sessions gave me infinite pleasure. One day, however, my visit was
not so well received as usual. My father, perhaps absorbed in his
book, did not open the door for his little cat. In vain, I redoubled
my "miaows" in the most appealing tone which I could produce. The
door remained closed. Then I saw, at floor level, an opening called
a cat-hole, which is present in all the châteaux of the Midi, at the
bottom of the doors, to allow cats free access. This route seemed,
naturally, to be for me: I put my head through, but that was as far
as I could go. I then tried to withdraw my head, but my head was
stuck and I could go neither forward nor back, but I was so much
identified with my role as a cat that instead of speaking, to let my
father know my predicament, I "miaowed" at the top of my voice, like
a cat that is angry, and it appears that I did so in such a natural
tone that my father thought that I was playing, but suddenly the
"miaows" became weaker, and turned into crying and you may imagine my
father's concern when he realised what had happened. It was only
with great difficulty that I was freed and carried, half unconscious,
to my mother, who thinking I was injured was much distressed.

A surgeon was sent for, who proceeded to bleed me, and the sight
of my own blood and the crowd of all the inhabitants of the château,
gathered about my mother and me, made such a vivid impression on my
young imagination that the event has remained for ever fixed in my
memory.

Chap. 2.

While my childhood was rolling by peacefully, the storm of
revolution which had been growling in the distance, drew ever nearer,
and it was not long before it broke. We were in 1789.

The assembly of the States General stirred up all manner of
passions, destroyed the tranquillity enjoyed by the province in which
we lived and introduced divisions into all families, particularly
into ours; for my father, who for a long time had railed against the
abuses to which France was subjected, accepted, in principle, the
improvements which were mooted, without foreseeing the atrocities to
which these changes were going to lead; while his three
brothers-in-law and all his friends rejected any innovation. This
gave rise to animated discussions, of which I understood nothing, but
which distressed me because I saw my mother in tears as she tried to
keep the peace between her brothers and her husband. For my part,
although I did not understand what was going on, I naturally took
sides with my father.

The Constituent Assembly had revoked all feudal rents. My father
possessed some of these which his father had purchased. He was the
first to conform to the law. The peasantry who had been waiting to
make up their minds until my father gave them a lead, refused to
continue paying these rents once they knew what he had done.

Shortly after this, France having been divided into departments,
my father was named administrator for the Corrèze and then a member
of the Legislative Assembly.

My mother's three brothers, and nearly all the nobility of the
county had hurriedly emigrated. War seemed to be imminent, so, to
persuade all citizens to take up arms, and also, perhaps, to find out
up to what point they could count on the populace, the government
arranged for the rumour to be spread throughout all the communes of
France, that the "Brigands" led by the émigrés, were coming to
destroy all the new institutions. The tocsin was rung by all the
churches; everyone armed themselves with whatever they could lay
hands upon; a National Guard was organised; the country turned into
an armed camp while it waited for these imaginary "Brigands" who, in
every commune, were said to be in the one next door. Nothing ever
appeared, but the effect remained: France found herself in arms and
had shown that she was prepared to defend herself.

We children were then alone in the country with our mother. This
alert, which was called "The day of fear" surprised me and would
probably have alarmed me, had I not seen my mother remain so calm. I
have always thought that my father had discreetly warned her of what
was about to happen.

All went well at first, without any excess on the part of the
peasants, who, in our part of the country, retained much respect for
the ancient families; but soon, stirred up by demagogues from the
towns, the country-dwellers invaded the houses of the nobles, under
the pretext of looking for hidden émigrés, but in fact to exact money
and to seize the title deeds of feudal rents, which they burned in a
big bonfire. From the height of our terrace, we saw these ruffians,
torches in their hands, running towards the Château d'Estresse, from
which all the men had emigrated and which was occupied only by women.
These were my mother's best friends, and so she was greatly upset by
this spectacle. Her anxiety was redoubled by the arrival of her own
aged mother, who had been driven out of her château, which was
declared national property because of the emigration of her three
sons...!

Up until then, my father's property had been respected; largely
because his patriotism was known, and because, to give further proof
of it, he had taken service in the army of the Pyrenees as captain in
the Chasseurs des Montagnes, at the end of his term in the
legislative assembly. But the revolutionary torrent swept over
everyone; the house at St. Céré, which my father had bought ten years
before, was confiscated and declared national property because the
deed of sale had been signed privately and the seller had emigrated
before ratifying the deal before a notary. My mother was given a few
days to remove her linen, then the house was put up for auction and
was bought by the president of the district who had himself arranged
for its confiscation!

At last, the peasants, stirred up by some agitators from Beaulieu,
came in a body to my father's château and insisted, though with some
politeness, that they had to burn the deeds of feudal rents which we
still had, and make sure that émigrés were not concealed in the
château.

My mother received them with fortitude, handed over the deeds and
pointed out to them that, knowing her brothers to be sensible people,
they should not suppose that they would emigrate only then to come
back to France and hide in her château.

They accepted the correctness of this line of reasoning, ate and
drank and having burned the deeds in the centre of the courtyard,
they left without doing any further damage, shouting "Long live
France and citizen Marbot!" And charging my mother to write to him to
say that they liked him very much and that his family was quite safe
among them.

In spite of this assurance, my mother felt that her position as
the sister of émigrés might expose her to a great deal of
unpleasantness from which even her position as the wife of a defender
of the country would not protect her. She decided to go away for the
time being. She told me later that she took this step because she was
convinced that the revolutionary storm would last only for some
months. There were many people who thought this!

My grandmother had had seven brothers, all of whom, as was usual
in the Verdal family had been soldiers and knights of St. Louis. One
of them, a former battalion commander in the infantry regiment of
Penthièvre, had married, on retirement, the rich widow of counsellor
of the parliament of Rennes. My mother decided to go and stay with
her and was counting on taking me with her, when I was smitten by a
number of large and very painful boils. It was impossible to travel
with a child of eight in such a state, and my mother was in great
perplexity. She was extricated by a worthy lady, Mlle. Mongalvi, who
was much devoted to her and whose memory will always be dear to me. 
Mlle. Mongalvi lived at Turenne and ran boarding establishment for
young ladies of which my mother had been one of the first occupants.
She offered to take me into her house for the few months of my
mother's absence. My father's agreement having been obtained, I left
and was installed there. "What!" you may say, "A boy amongst young
ladies?" Well yes, but do not forget that I was a quiet, peaceable,
obedient child, and I was only eight years old.

The boarders who stayed with Mlle. Mongalvi, where my mother had
once been one of them, were young persons of some sixteen to twenty
years of age; the youngest being at least fourteen, and were sensible
enough to let me mingle with them.

On my arrival, all this little feminine flock gathered about me
and received me with such cries of pleasure and warm caresses that,
from the first instant, I thought myself lucky to have made this
trip. I figured that it would not last long and I believe that,
secretly, I even regretted that I would have only a short time to
spend with these nice young ladies, who did everything to please me
and argued as to who was to hold my hand.

However, my mother left and went to stay with my uncle. Events
moved forward rapidly. The terror bathed France in blood. Civil war
broke, out in the Vendée and in Brittany. Travel there became
absolutely impossible, so that my mother, who had thought to spend
two or three months at Rennes, found herself stuck there for several
years.

My father continued on active service in the Pyrenees and in
Spain, where his ability and courage had raised him to the rank of
divisional general; while I, having gone as a boarder for a few
months, stayed for some four years, which were for me years of much
happiness, clouded only, from time to time, by the memory of my
parents; but the good Mlles. Mongalvi and their boarders would then
redouble their kindness, to dispel those thoughts which now and then
saddened me. I was spoiled beyond belief by the mistresses and the
boarders; I had only to wish for something to obtain it. There was
nothing too good or too fine for me. My health recovered completely. 
I was clean and fresh, so they vied with one another to cuddle me.
During recreation, which took place in a vast enclosure, where there
was a fine garden, with paddocks, vines and arbours, the young ladies
would crown me and garland me with flowers, then placing me on a
little litter covered with roses, they would take it in turns to
carry me while they sang. At other times I would play prisoners base
with them, having the privilege of always catching but never being
caught. They would read stories to me and sing songs. They competed
to do something for me.

I recall, that on hearing of the horrible execution of Louis XVI,
Mlle. Mongalvi had all the boarders on their knees, to recite prayers
for the repose of the soul of the unfortunate king. The indiscretion
of any one of us could have brought down disaster on her head, but
all the pupils were of an age to understand, and I felt that it was
something I should not talk about; so no one knew anything about it.
I stayed in this pleasant retreat until November 1793.

Chap. 3.

When I was eleven and a half years old, my father was given
command of a camp which was set up at Toulouse. He took advantage of
a few days leave to come and see me and to arrange his affairs, which
he had not been able to do for several years. He came to Turenne, to
the house of one of his friends, and hurried to my lodging. He was in
the uniform of a general officer, with a big sabre, his hair cut
short and unpowdered and sporting an enormous moustache, which was in
remarkable contrast to the costume in which I was used to seeing him
when we lived peacefully at Larivière.

I have said that my father, in spite of his stern masculine looks,
was a kind man, and particularly toward children, whom he adored. I
saw him again with the keenest transports of delight, and he
overwhelmed me with caresses. He stayed for several days at Turenne;
he warmly thanked the good mesdames Mongalvi for the truly maternal
care they had taken of me; but when he asked me a few questions, it
was easy for him to see that though I had a good knowledge of prayers
and litanies and lots of hymns, my remaining education was limited to
some notions of history, geography, and spelling. He considered
also, that, being now in my twelfth year, it was not possible to
leave me in a boarding establishment for young ladies, and that it
was time to give me an education which was more masculine and more
extensive. He had resolved therefore, to take me with him to
Toulouse, to where he had also brought Adolphe, and to place us both
in the military college of Sorèze, the sole great establishment of
this kind which the revolutionary turmoil had left standing.

I left, after bidding a tender farewell to my young friends. We
headed for Cressensac, where we were joined by Captain Gault, my
father's aide-de-camp. While the coach was being got ready, Spire,
my father's old servant, who knew that his master intended to travel
day and night, made up packages of food.

At this moment a new spectacle was presented to me: a mobile
column, composed of gendarmes, national guards and volunteers,
entered the town of Cressensac with a band playing at its head. I
had never seen anything like it, and it seemed to me quite superb,
but I was unable to understand why, in the midst of all these
soldiers, there was a dozen coaches filled with old men, women and
children, all of whom looked extremely sad. This sight infuriated my
father. He drew back from the window and, striding about with his
aide-de-camp, whom he could trust, I heard him burst out, "These
miserable members of the convention have ruined the revolution which
could have done so much good. There you see yet more innocent people
who are being thrown into gaol because they are landowners or are
related to émigrés; it is disgusting!"

Why, you may ask, did my father continue to serve a government
which he despised? It was because he thought that to confront the
enemies of France was honourable, but did not mean that the military
condoned the atrocities which the convention committed in the
interior of the country.

What my father had said, had interested me in the people in the
coaches. I gathered that they had been, that morning, seized from
their châteaux and were being led away to the prisons of Souilhac.
They were old men, women and children, and I was wondering to myself
how these frail people could present any danger to the country, when
I heard several of the children asking for food. One lady begged a
national guard to let her get out to go and buy something to eat. He
refused her, rudely, and when the lady produced an "assignat" and
pleaded with him to go and buy some bread, he replied, "Do you take
me for one of your former lackeys?" This brutality angered me. I had
noticed that Spire had placed in the pockets of the coach, a number
of bread-rolls in the centre of which was a sausage; I took two of
these rolls, and drawing near to the coach holding the child
prisoners, I threw them in, when the guards were not looking. The
mothers and the children made signs to me of such gratitude that I
resolved to give food to all the other prisoners, and piece by piece,
I gave them all the provisions which Spire had made for the two days
journey to Toulouse, which we were about to make.
We left, at last, without Spire having any suspicion of the
distribution which I had just made. The little prisoners blew me
kisses and their parents waved to me; but no sooner were we some
hundred paces from the post-house than my father, who had been in
haste to get away from a spectacle which distressed him, and had not
wished to eat at the inn, felt hungry, and asked for the provisions. 
Spire pointed to the pockets in which he had placed them. My father
and M. Gault rummaged through all the interior of the coach, but
found nothing. My father grew angry with Spire, who from the height
of his seat, swore by all the saints that he had stuffed the coach
with food for two days. I was somewhat embarrassed; however, I did
not want poor Spire to be blamed any longer, so I admitted what I had
done. I expected to be scolded for acting without authority, but my
father put his arm round me in the most affectionate manner, and many
years after he still spoke with pleasure of my conduct on this
occasion.

From Cressensac to Toulouse the road was full of volunteers, going
to join the army of the Pyrenees, and making the air ring with
patriotic songs. I was charmed by this bustling spectacle and would
have been happy had it not been for my physical suffering. I had
never made a long journey by coach before, and I was sea-sick
throughout the trip, which decided my father to stop every night to
allow me some repose. I arrived at Toulouse feeling very tired, but
the sight of my brother, from whom I had been parted for four or five
years, gave me so much joy that I very soon recovered.

My father, with the rank of divisional general, commanding the
camp situated at Miral, close to Toulouse, was entitled to a billet,
and the municipality had assigned to him the fine town house of
Rességuier, whose owner had emigrated. Madame de Rességuier and her
son had retreated to the most distant rooms, and my father gave
orders that the strictest regard was to be given to their unhappy
position.

My father's house was much frequented. Every day there were
visitors, and he had a great deal of expense, for although at that
time a divisional general received eighteen rations of all kinds, and
his aides-de-camp a similar amount, it was not enough. He had to buy
a host of things and as the state gave to a general officer what it
gave to a sous-lieutenant, that is eight francs a month in cash, the
rest being made up in assignats, the value of which diminished daily,
and as my father was very generous, entertained many of the officers
from the camp, had numerous domestic servants (at that time called
servitors), had eighteen horses, a coach, a box at the theatre
etc...He spent the savings which he had accumulated at Larivière, and
it was from the time of his re-entry into military service that the
decline of his fortune began.

Although the "Terror" was now at its height and class distinction
was greatly weakened in France, from whence all good manners seemed
to have removed themselves forever, my father knew so well how to
impose them on the many officers who came to his quarters, that the
most perfect politeness ruled in his salon and at his table.

Among the officers employed at the camp, my father had taken a
great liking to two, who were invited more often than the others. 
One was named Augereau and was the adjutant-general, that is to say
colonel of the general staff, the other was Lannes, a lieutenant of
Grenadiers, in a battalion of volunteers from the department of Gers.

They became Marshals of the Empire and I have been aide-de-camp to
both of them.

At this period Augereau, after escaping from the prison of the
Inquisition at Lisbon, had come to fight in the Vendée, where he was
noticed for his courage and his quality of leadership. He was an
excellent tactician, a skill which he had learned in Prussia, where
he had served for a considerable time in the Foot-guards of Frederick
the Great; hence his nick-name of "The Big Prussian." He had an
irreproachable military turn-out, spick and span, curled and
powdered, with a long pig-tail, big, highly polished riding boots and
withal, a very martial bearing. This smart appearance was the more
remarkable because, at this time it was not something on which the
French army could pride itself, being almost entirely made up of
volunteers not used to wearing uniform and very careless of their
grooming. However nobody made fun of Augereau about this, for he was
known to be a brave and accomplished duelist, who had given even the
celebrated Saint-George, the finest swordsman in France, a run for
his money.

I have said that Augereau was a good tactician; because of this,
my father had appointed him to direct the training of the battalions
of new levées, of which the division was largely composed. These men
came from Limousin, Auvergne, the Basque country, Quercy, Gers and
Languedoc. Augereau trained them well, and in so doing he was
unaware that he was laying the foundations of his own future fame,
for these troops, which my father then commanded, formed later the
famous Augereau division which did such fine things in the Pyrenees
and in Italy.

Augereau came almost daily to my father's house, and seeing that
he was appreciated, he devoted to him a friendship which never
wavered and of which I felt the benefit after the death of my mother.

As for Lieutenant Lannes, he was a very lively young Gascon,
intelligent and cheerful, without education or training but anxious
to learn at a time when no one else was. He became a very good
instructor, and since he was very vain, he accepted with the greatest
delight the praises which my father lavished on him, and which he
deserved. By way of recompense, he spoiled, as much as he could, his
general's children.

One fine morning, my father received the order to strike his camp
at Miral and to lead his division to join the army corps of General
Dugommier, which was laying siege to Toulon, which the English had
captured in a surprise attack. My father then said to me that it was
not in a school for young ladies that I would learn what I needed to
know; that I needed more serious studies and in consequence he was
taking me, the next day, to the military college of Sorèze, where he
had already arranged a place for me and my brother. I was
thunderstruck! Never to go back to my friends with the Mesdames
Mongalvi? That seemed impossible!

The road was covered with troops and guns, which my father passed
in review at Castelnaudary. This spectacle, which a few days earlier
would have delighted me, now failed to lessen the anxiety which I
felt about the teachers in whose presence I was about to find myself.

We stayed overnight at Castelnaudary, where my father learned of
the evacuation of Toulon by the English (18th Dec 1793), and was
ordered to go with his division, to the eastern Pyrenees. Whereupon
he decided to deposit us, the very next day, at Sorèze, to stay there
for a few hours only, and to set off immediately for Perpignon.

On leaving Castelnaudary, my father ordered the coach to stop at a
famous tree under which the Constable Montmorency had been taken
prisoner by the troops of Louis XIII, following the defeat of the
supporters of Gaston d'Orléans, who had rebelled against his brother.
He chatted about this event with his aides-de-camp, and my brother--
who was already well informed--took part in the conversation. As
for me, I had only the vaguest notions of the general history of
France and knew nothing of the details. It was the first time I had
heard of the battle of Castelnaudary, of Gaston, of his revolt and of
the capture and execution of the Constable de Montmorency. I
realised that my father did not ask me any question on the subject
because he was quite certain that I would be unable to reply. This
made me feel ashamed, and I concluded that my father was right in
taking me to the college to be educated. My regrets then changed
into a resolution to learn all that I needed to know.

Nevertheless, my heart sank at the sight of the high sombre walls
of the cloister in which I was to be enclosed. I was eleven years
and four months old when I entered this establishment.

Chap. 4.

I shall now give you a brief history of the college of Sorèze, as
I had it from Dom Abal, a former vice principal, whom I saw often in
Paris during the Empire.

When, under Louis XV, it was resolved to clear the Jesuits out of
France, their defenders claimed that they alone knew how to educate
children. The Benedictines, sworn enemies of the Jesuits, wished to
prove that this was not so; but as it did not suit them, although
they were studious and learned, to turn themselves into
schoolmasters, they selected four of their houses to be turned into
colleges, among which was Sorèze. There they placed those members of
the order who had the most aptitude for teaching, and who could,
after working for several years, retire to other monasteries of the
order. The new colleges prospered, Sorèze in particular stood out,
and the crowd of pupils, who hurried there from all parts, made a
larger number of teachers necessary. The Benedictines attracted
there many learned laymen, who established themselves, with their
families, in the little town in which the monastery was situated. The
children of these lay teachers, who attended the college free as day
pupils, formed, later, a nursery of masters of all the arts and
sciences. Eventually the ability to give lessons at a very
reasonable cost led to the setting up of several boarding houses for
young ladies, and the little town became remarkable in that its
citizens, even the simple merchants, had an extended education and
practised all the fine arts. A crowd of foreigners, principally
English, Spanish and American, came to stay there, in order to be
near their sons and daughters during their education.

The Benedictine order was, in general, made up of very easy-going
men; they mixed with the world and entertained often, so they were
well liked; something that was very useful to those at Sorèze when
the revolution broke out.

The Principal at that time was Dom Despaulx, a man of the
highest integrity, but who, being unwilling to subscribe to the
"civic oath" then exacted from the clergy, retired and spent several
years in retreat, from where he was later called by the Emperor to
fill one of the highest positions in the university.

All the other Benedictines at Sorèze took the oath: Dom Ferlus
became Principal and Dom Abal Vice-Principal, and the college, in
spite of the revolutionary upheavals, continued to operate, following
the excellent start which it had been given by Dom Despaulx.

Later, however, a law having been passed requiring the
secularising of the monks and the sale of their property, the days of
the college seemed numbered; but many of the most important men in
the country had been educated there, and they wanted it to be there
for their children; the inhabitants of the town, even the labourers
and peasants, respected the good fathers and realised that the
destruction of the college would result in the ruin of the area. So
an arrangement was made whereby Dom Ferlus would become the owner of
the college and the immense property which belonged to it. Nobody
attended the auction, and the Principal became, at a very modest
price, the owner of the huge monastery and the land which it owned. 
The administrators of the department gave him plenty of time to pay.
Everyone lent him assignats which he repaid with some loads of wood;
the vast farms of the estate furnished food for the college and,
lacking money, Dom Ferlus paid the external teachers in provisions,
which suited them very well at a time when famine was rife in France.

On the death of Dom Ferlus, the college passed into the hands of
his brother Raymond Ferlus, a former Oration, now married, a
third-rate poet and man of little capacity. The college went into
decline when the restoration of 1814 allowed back the Jesuits, who
were determined to wreak revenge on the Benedictines by destroying
the edifice which the latter had erected on the ruins of their order.

The university took sides with the Jesuits. M. Raymond Ferlus handed
over the college to his son-in-law, M. Bernard, a former artillery
officer who had been one of my contempories. He knew nothing about
running such an establishment, and, besides that, a host of other
good colleges sprang up as rivals, and Sorèze, losing its importance
from day to day, became one of the most mediocre institutions of
learning.

I return now to the time when I was at Sorèze. I have told you how
Dom Ferlus saved the college from ruin, and how, upheld by the care
of this enlightened man, it was the only great establishment of its
kind left standing by the revolution. The monks adopted lay clothing
and the appellation "Citizen" replaced that of "Dom." Apart from
that, nothing essential was changed in the college and it continued
to exist peacefully in a corner of France, while the country was most
cruelly being torn to pieces. I say that nothing essential had
changed because the studies followed their usual course, and there
was no breakdown of order, but it was impossible that the feverish
agitation which reigned outside should not be felt in the college. I
will say also that Dom Ferlus, with diplomatic skill, presented the
appearance of approving of what he could not prevent. The walls
therefore were covered with Republican slogans. It was forbidden to
use the word "Monsieur". The pupils went to the dining hall or on
walks, singing the Marseillaise or other Republican hymns; and as
they heard continually of the achievements of our armies, in which
some of the older pupils were even enrolled as volunteers, and as
they were brought up in a military atmosphere, (since, even before
the revolution, Sorèze was a military college, where one learned
drill, horse-riding, fortification, and so on), all this youth had,
for some time, adopted a warrior-like stance and spirit which had led
to a slackening of good manners. Added to which the uniform
contributed greatly to give them a very strange aspect. The scholars
wore big shoes, which were cleaned only every ten days, stockings of
grey thread, plain brown trousers and jacket, no waistcoat, shirts
undone, and covered with stains of ink and red pencil, no tie,
nothing on the head, the hair in a pig-tail, often undone, and the
hands....! Like those of a coal-heaver.

Imagine me, clean, polished, dressed in clothes of fine cloth,
neat and tidy, thrown into the midst of seven hundred urchins, got up
as imps, and who, on hearing a shout of "Here are some new ones!"
left their games and came, in a mob to gather round us, staring as if
we were strange animals.

My father embraced us and left...! I was in a state of utter
despair! Here I was, alone, alone for the first time in my life, my
brother being in the upper school while I was in the lower. We were
in the middle of winter. It was very cold, but according to school
rules, the pupils were never allowed a fire!

Nevertheless, the pupils at Sorèze were well fed, especially for
that time; for in spite of the famine which was sweeping France, the
good administration of Dom Ferlus provided an abundance of food. The
everyday fare was certainly all that could be desired for
school-children. However the supper seemed to me to be most
niggardly, and the sight of the dishes put before me disgusted me:
but had I been offered ortolans, I would not have been tempted, my
heart was so full. The meal finished as it had begun, with a
patriotic song. We knelt down at the couplet of the Marseillaise
which begins "Amour sacré de la patrie"...Then we filed out, as we
had come in, to the sound of a drum, and we went to the dormitories.

The pupils of the upper school had each his own room, in which he
was shut in for the night; those of the lower school slept four to a
room, of which each angle contained a bed. I was put with Guiraud,
Romestan and Lagarde, who were my companions at table, and almost as
new as I was. I was quite happy with this. They had seemed to me to
be nice children, which, in fact, they were. But I was taken aback
when I saw the smallness of my bed, the thinness of the mattress, and
what displeased me most, the iron bed-stead. I had never seen
anything like it. However everything was very clean, and in spite of
my dismay I slept soundly, worn out by the shocks to my system which
I had suffered on this fateful day.

The next morning, the drum beat reveille, making a horrible noise
in the dormitories, which I thought was quite atrocious; but how do
you think I felt when I saw that, while I was asleep, someone had
removed my beautiful clothes, my fine stockings and my pretty shoes,
and had replaced them by the coarse garments and heavy footwear of
the school? I wept with rage.

Having told you of the first impressions which I experienced on my
entry into the college, I shall spare you the recital of all the
torments to which I was exposed during the next six months. I had been
too pampered by the mesdames Mongalvi not to suffer mentally and
physically in my new position. I became very depressed, and had my
constitution been less robust, I should have become ill. This period
was one of the most unhappy in my life. In the long run, however,
work and familiarity enabled me to cope with the situation. I was
very fond of the lessons in French literature, in geography, and
above all, in history, and I made progress in these subjects. I
became passable at Latin and mathematics and at horsemanship and
fencing. I was an expert at fire-arms drill and took much pleasure in
the manoeuvres of the school battalion which was commanded by a
retired captain.

At the time when I entered the college, the convention was
imposing its blood-stained sceptre over France. Representatives of
the people, on various missions, infested the provinces, and almost
all of these who were of any importance in the Midi came to visit
Sorèze, whose title of "Military Academy" sounded pleasing to their
ears.

Citizen Ferlus had a particular talent for persuading them that
they must maintain an establishment devoted to educating a numerous
youth, "The hope of the country". So he obtained all that he wanted. 
Often they would send us great bundles of brushwood, destined to
supply the army, our Principal having persuaded them that we were a
part of it, and were, in effect, its nursery.

These Representatives were received and fêted like Sovereigns. On
their arrival, all the pupils were dressed in their military
uniforms; the battalion was paraded before them; a guard was mounted
at every gate as if in a military barracks. Little tableaux were
enacted which exuded the purest patriotism; one sang national hymns,
and when they visited the classes, particularly those of history, an
occasion was always found to produce some tirade on the excellence of
Republican government and the patriotic virtues which derived from
it. I can remember, in this regard, an occasion when Representative
Chabot, a former Capuchin, questioned me on Roman history. He asked
me what I thought of Coriolanus, who finding himself wronged by his
fellow citizens, forgetful of his former services, withdrew to the
country of the Volscians, sworn enemies of the Romans. Dom Ferlus
and the teachers feared greatly that I might approve of the Roman's
conduct, but I blamed him, saying that a good citizen must never bear
arms against his country, nor dream of any vengeance against her, no
matter how justified his discontent. The representative was so
pleased with my answer that he patted me on the back, and
complemented the head of the college and the teachers on the sound
principles which they inculcated in their pupils!

This little success did not diminish the dislike I had for these
representatives. The actions of the convention filled me with
horror. Young as I was, I had, already, enough sense to realise that
it was not necessary to wallow in French blood in order to save the
country, and that the guillotinades and massacres were appalling
crimes.

I shall not discuss here the system of oppression which ruled,
then, in our unhappy country; this is a matter of history; but I may
say that however strong the colours used to paint the horrors of
which these terrorists were capable, the picture will be less lurid
than the reality. Perhaps the most surprising thing is the stupidity
of the masses, who allowed themselves to be dominated by men, the
greater part of whom lacked any ability: for whatever may have been
said, almost all the members of the convention were of more than
ordinary mediocrity and their boasted unanimity arose from the fear
they had of one another, since in their anxiety to avoid being
guillotined themselves, they agreed with anything which the
ringleaders proposed.

I saw, during my exile in 1815, many members of the convention who
like me were forced to leave France. They were completely lacking in
back-bone, and assured me that they voted for the death of Louis XVI
and a host of odious decrees solely to save their own skins. The
memory of these times has convinced me that the worst form of
government is that by the masses.

Chap. 5.

I reached the age of sixteen in August 1798. Six months later,
towards the end of February, I left the college of Sorèze.

My father had a friend named M. Dorignac, who offered to take me
with him to the capital. It took us eight days to reach Paris, where
we arrived in March 1799, on the day when the Odéon theatre was
burned down for the first time. The flames were visible far off on
the Orleans road, and I thought, in my simplicity, that the light
came from furnaces operating in the city.
My father, at that time, occupied a fine mansion in the
Faubourg-St-Honoré road, number 87, on the corner with the little Rue
Vert. I arrived there at dinner time: all the family were gathered
there. It would be impossible for me to describe the joy which I
felt at seeing them all together! This was one of the happiest days
of my life!

We were now in the spring of 1799. The Republic still existed,
and the government was now composed of the Directorate of five
members, and two chambers, one of which was called the Council of
Elders, and the other the Council of Five Hundred

My father entertained many members of society. There I made the
acquaintance of his intimate friend, General Bernadotte, and some of
the outstanding men of the period, such as Joseph and Lucien
Bonaparte, and also Napper-Tandy, the Irish leader, who had taken
refuge in France. At my mother's house I frequently saw Madame
Bonaparte and sometimes Madame De Staël, already celebrated for her
literary works.

I had been in Paris for only about a month, when the term of the
legislature expired. It was necessary to hold new elections. My
father, fed up with the constant wrangling of political life, and
regretting that he was not taking any part in the army's
achievements, declared that he would no longer accept nomination as a
deputy, and that he wished to return to active service. Events
turned out in his favour. On the assembly of the new Chambers there
was a change of minister. General Bernadotte became minister for
war. He had promised my father that he would send him to the army of
the Rhine, and my father was about to set off for Mainz, when the
directory, learning of the defeat suffered by the army of Italy,
commanded by Scherer, appointed as his successor, General Joubert,
who commanded the 17th division, (now the 1st,) in Paris.

This post having now become vacant, the directory, realising that
its great political importance required that it should be filled by
someone of capacity and determination, instructed the minister for
war to offer it to my father. My father who had resigned from the
legislature only to resume active service, turned the offer down; but
on Bernadotte showing him the letter of appointment, already signed,
and saying that as a friend, he begged him to accept, and as a
minister, he ordered him, my father gave in, and the next day he went
to install himself in the headquarters of the Paris division,
situated, at that time in the Quai Voltaire, at the corner of the Rue
de Saint-Pères, and which has since been demolished. My father took
as his chief of staff his old friend Col. Ménard. I was delighted
by all the military suite with which my father was surrounded. His
headquarters were never empty of officers of all ranks. A squadron
of cavalry, a battalion of infantry and six field-guns were stationed
before his portals, and one saw a crowd of orderlies coming and
going. This seemed to me much more entertaining than the exercises
and translations of Sorèze.

France, and in particular Paris, were, at this time, in a state of
much agitation. We were on the brink of catastrophe. The Russians,
commanded by the celebrated Souwaroff, had just entered Italy, where
our army had suffered a major defeat at Novi, where General Joubert
had been killed. The victor, Souwaroff, was heading for our army of
Switzerland, commanded by Masséna.

We had few troops on the Rhine. The peace conference begun at
Rastadt had broken down and our ambassadors had been assassinated;
now all Germany was arming once more against us, and the Directory,
fallen into disfavour, had neither troops nor the money to raise
them. In order to procure funds it decreed a forced loan, which had
the effect of turning everyone against it. All hopes were pinned on
Masséna's ability to stop the Russians and prevent them from entering
France. The directory, impatient, sent him courier after courier,
ordering him to join battle; but this latter-day Fabius, unwilling to
risk the safety of his country, was waiting for some false move, on
the part of his impetuous adversary, to give him the opportunity for
victory.

At this point, I shall relate an anecdote which demonstrates on
how fine a thread sometimes hangs the destiny of states and the
reputation of generals. The directory, exasperated to see that
Masséna did not obey the repeated commands to engage in battle,
resolved to relieve him of his post; but, as it was feared that this
general would take no notice of the order and simply stuff it in his
pocket, if it was sent by an ordinary courier, the minister for war
was ordered to send a staff-officer, charged to deliver, publicly, to
Masséna his demotion, and to give to his chief of staff, Chérin, the
official letter which would confirm him as commander-in-chief of the
army.

When the minister told my father, in confidence, about these
plans, my father disapproved, saying that it would be dangerous, on
the eve of a decisive action, to deprive the army of Switzerland of a
general in whom it had confidence, and give the command to a general
who was more used to administration than the direction of troops in
the field. In addition, the position of the armies might change; and
he thought it essential that the mission was given to a man with
enough wisdom to assess the state of affairs, and who would not hand
Masséna his dismissal on the eve of, or in the middle of a battle.

My father, eventually persuaded the minister to give the task to
M. Gault, his aide-de-camp, who, under the ostensible pretext of going
to see if the suppliers had delivered the number of horses stipulated
in their contract, would proceed to Switzerland with the authority to
retain or to hand out the order for the dismissal of Masséna, and the
installing of general Chérin, according to the circumstances which
might lead him to judge whether this would be useful or dangerous.
This was an enormous responsibility to confide to the prudence of a
simple captain, but M. Gault fully justified the faith my father had
in him.

Arriving at the headquarters of the army of Switzerland
five days before the battle of Zurich, he found the troops so full of
confidence in Masséna, and Masséna himself so calm and determined,
that he had no doubts of success, and, maintaining the deepest
silence about his secret powers, he took part in the battle of Zurich
and then returned to Paris, without Masséna suspecting that this
modest captain had in his hands the authority which could have
deprived him of the glory of one of the finest victories of the
century.

Had Masséna been rashly dismissed, this would probably have led
to the defeat of General Chérin and the invasion of France by the
Russians, followed by the Germans, and perhaps finally to the
overrunning of Europe. General Chérin was killed at Zurich, without
being aware of the intentions of the government towards him.

The victory of Zurich, although, it prevented the advance of the
enemy into the country, gave the Directory only a momentary respite.
The government was everywhere crumbling; no one had confidence in it. The treasury was bankrupt; the Vendée and Brittany were in open revolt;
the interior stripped of troops; the Midi in turmoil; the chamber of
deputies squabbling among themselves, and with the executive. In
short, the state was on the verge of disaster.

Everyone in politics recognised that a major change was necessary
and inevitable; but although all agreed on this point, opinions
differed as to the remedy to be employed. The old Republicans, who
upheld the constitution of year III, then still in force, believed
that it would be sufficient to change several members of the
Directory. Two of them were removed and replaced by MM. Gohier and
Moulins; but this was the feeblest of palliatives for the calamities
which afflicted the country, and it continued to be shaken by
anarchy.

It was then that several members of the Directory, amongst whom
was the well-known Sieyès, thought, as did many of the deputies and
the great majority of the public, that to save France it was
necessary to put the reins of government in the hands of someone
resolute and already distinguished by services given to the state. It
was realised, also, that this would have to be a soldier who had
great influence in the army, and who was able, by re-arousing
national enthusiasm, to lead our banners to victory and chase away
the foreigners who were preparing to cross our frontiers.

To speak like this was to point to General Bonaparte, but at this
moment he was in Egypt, and the need was pressing. Joubert had been
killed in Italy. Messéna, though famous for several victories, was
an excellent general at the head of an army in the field, but in no
way a politician. Bernadotte did not seem to have the capacity or
the wisdom to repair the country's fortunes. The eyes of the
reformers then turned to General Moreau; although the weakness of his
character and his indecisive conduct on the 18th Fructidor raised
some fears about his ability to govern. It is certain, however,
that lacking an alternative, he was asked to head the party which
intended to overthrow the Directory, and was offered the title of
President or Consul. Moreau, a good fighting soldier, lacked
political courage, and perhaps doubted his own ability to cope with
affairs in such a mess as were those of France. Also he was
self-centered and indolent and worried little about the future of the
country, preferring the repose of private life to the agitation of
politics. He refused the offer and retired to his estate of
Grosbois, to devote himself to hunting, of which he was passionately
fond.

Abandoned by the man of their choice, Sieyès and those with him,
who wished to change the form of the government, not feeling
themselves to be sufficiently strong or popular to achieve their aim
without the support of a general whose name would rally the army to
their side, were forced to turn their thoughts to General Bonaparte. 
The leader of this enterprise, Sieyès, flattered himself that, having
been placed in power, Bonaparte would busy himself with the
management and re-organising of the army, and leave to him the
conduct of the government, of which he would be the master and
Bonaparte but the nominal head. Events showed how badly he was
mistaken.

Imbued with this notion, Sieyès, through the intermission of
the Corsican deputy, Salicetti, sent a reliable secret agent to
Egypt, to inform General Bonaparte of the troubled state of France,
and propose to him that he should come back and place himself at the
head of the government. Having no doubt that Bonaparte would accept
readily and return promptly to Europe, Sieyès put everything in
motion to assure the execution of the coup d'état which he was
planning.

It was easy for him to convince his fellow director, Roger-Duclos,
that their power was slipping away daily, and that the country being
on the brink of complete disorganisation, the public welfare, and
their personal interests, demanded that they should take part in the
establishment of a strong government, in which they would contrive to
place themselves in a less precarious and more advantageous position.

Roger-Duclos promised his agreement to the proposed changes; but the
other three directors, Barras, Gohier and Moulins were unwilling to
give up their positions, so Sieyès and the leaders of his party
resolved to go over their heads, and to sacrifice them after the
event.

However, it would be difficult, not to say dangerous, even with
the presence of General Bonaparte, to overthrow the Directorate,
change the constitution and establish a new government, without the
support of the army, and, above all, that of the division which
occupied Paris. To be able to rely on this, it was necessary to be
sure of the co-operation of the minister for war and of the general
commanding the 17th division.

President Sieyès then sought to win over Bernadotte and my father,
by having them sounded out by several deputies who were their friends
and also supporters of Sieyès's plans. I have learned since that my
father replied to the vague overtures which were put to him on behalf
of the crafty Sieyès by saying that he agreed that the country's
misfortunes demanded a drastic remedy, but that, having sworn to
maintain the constitution of year III, he would not use the authority
he had over his troops to lead them to its overthrow. He then went to
Sieyès and handed in his resignation as commander of the Paris
division, and requested a posting to a division on active service.
Sieyès hastened to fall in with his wishes, being only too glad to
get rid of a man whose devotion to what he saw as his duty, might
abort the projected coup. The minister, Bernadotte followed my
father's example, and was replaced by Dubois-Crance.

President Sieyès was, for some days, at a loss to find a successor
to my father. In the end, he gave the command to general Lefebvre,
who, having recently been wounded in the army of the Rhine, was at
that moment in the capital. Lefebvre was a former sergeant in the
Guards, a brave soldier, a good, workmanlike general, provided that
he was closely supervised, but credulous in the extreme, with no
understanding of the political situation in France. So, by careful
use of the words "Glory," "Motherland," and " Victory, " One could be
sure of making him do whatever one wished. This was just the sort of
commander that Sieyès was looking for. He did not even take the
trouble to win him over, or to warn him of what was about to happen,
so sure was he that on the day Lefebvre would not resist the
influence of General Bonaparte, and the cajoleries of the president
of the directorate.

He had made an accurate assessment of Lefebvre, for on the 18th
Brumaire, he placed himself and all his troops under the command of
General Bonaparte, to march against the Directorate and the
Councillors, to throw down the established government and create the
Consulate. This action made him, later, one of the Emperor's
greatest favourites. He was made a marshal, Duke of Danzig and
senator and was showered with riches.

I have rapidly outlined these events, because they explain some of
the reasons which led my father to Italy: a move which had such a
profound effect on his destiny and mine.

Chap. 6.

After handing over his command to General Lefebvre, my father
returned to his house in the Faubourg St. Honoré and busied himself
with preparations for his departure to Italy.

A man's destiny is often influenced by the smallest of events. My
father and mother were very friendly with M. Barairon, the director of
registration, and one day, when they were going to dine with him,
they took me along. The talk was of my father's coming departure,
and the progress of my two younger brothers. At last, M. Barairon
asked, "And Marcellin, what are you going to make of him?" "A
sailor," replied my father, "Captain Sibille has agreed to take him
with him to Toulon." Then the good Mme. Barairon, towards whom I have
always felt the warmest gratitude, observed to my father that the
French navy was in complete disarray, that the poor state of the
country's finances would not allow its rapid refurbishment, and,
furthermore, its inferiority vis-à-vis the English navy was such that
it would spend most of its time in harbour. She said that she could
not think why he, a divisional general, would put his son into the
navy, instead of placing him in a regiment, where the name and
services of his father would make him welcome. She ended by saying,
"Take him to Italy, sooner than send him to die of boredom, in a
vessel shut up in Toulon harbour."

My father, who had been briefly enticed by Capt. Sibille's
proposition, was too intelligent not to appreciate Mme. Barairon's
reasoning. "Well then," he asked me, "Do you want to come to Italy
with me and serve in the army?" I put my arms round him and accepted,
with a joy which my mother shared, for she had not been in favour of
my father's first idea.

As, at that time, there was no military academy, and one could
join the army only as a private soldier, my father took me right away
to the municipality of the first arrondissment, in the Place Beauvau,
and had me enlisted in the 1st Hussars, (formerly the Bercheny), who
were part of the division which he was going to command in Italy. It
was September the 3rd, 1799.

My father took me to a tailor, who had the job of making official
army uniforms, and ordered for me a complete outfit for a Hussar of
the 1st. As well as all the arms and equipment.

There I was!....A soldier!.....And was I not happy? But my
happiness was somewhat lessened when I reflected that this was going
to upset my brother Adolphe, two years older than me, and still stuck
in college. I then had the idea that I would not tell Adolphe about
my enlistment without telling him, at the same time, that I wanted to
spend with him the period which would have to pass before my
departure. I then asked my father if he would allow me to be
installed close to Adolphe, at Sainte-Barbe, until the day when we
would take the road for Italy. My father understood the reason for my
asking, and thought well of me for it. He took me, the next day to
stay with a M. Lanneau.

Can you imagine my arrival at college?...It was a recreation
period. All games stopped. All the pupils, big and small,
surrounded me. They vied with each other to touch part of my
equipment....In short, the Hussar was a complete success!

The day of the departure arrived....I said farewell to my mother
and my three brothers with the greatest sadness, in spite of the
pleasure I felt on starting a military career.

Chap. 7.

After my father had accepted a command in Italy, a division became
vacant in the army of the Rhine, which he would have preferred; but
an inescapable fate drew him towards the country where he would find
his grave.

One of his compatriots, and a personal friend, M. Lachèze, whom I
might call his evil genius, had for a long time been French consul
at Leghorn and Genoa, where he had business interests. This wretched
man, in order to lure my father to Italy, was forever painting the
most exaggerated picture of the country's beauties, and pointing out
the credit which might be gained by dealing successfully with the
difficult situation in the army there, whereas there would be little
opportunity to acquire distinction in the army of the Rhine, where
all was well. My father was swayed by this specious reasoning, and
believing that there was more merit in going to the more dangerous
post, he persisted in his intention of going to Italy, in spite of
the objections of my mother, who had a secret presentiment which made
her wish for my father to go to the Rhine. This presentiment was not
false. She never saw her husband again!

To his present aide-de-camp, Captain Gault, my father now added
another officer, M. R*** who had come to him from his friend General
Augereau. M. R*** had the rank of major. He was a member of a
Maintenon family and had some ability and some education, which he
very rarely employed; for in a stupid manner, which was then quite
common, he swaggered about, forever cursing and swearing, and talking
of running people through with his sabre. This bully-boy had only one
virtue, very rare at this time: he was always turned out with the
greatest elegance. My father, who had taken on M. R*** without
knowing anything about him, now much regretted it; but he could not
send him back without upsetting his old friend, Augereau. Although my
father disliked him, he thought, perhaps rightly, that a general
should make use of the military qualities of an officer, without
worrying too much about his personal manners; but, as he did not care
to have the company of M. R*** on a long journey, he had given him the
job of taking his coaches and horses from Paris to Nice, having under
his orders the old stud-groom, Spire, a highly responsible man, used
to the management of stables. The stable was large: my father had
fifteen horses, which with those of his aide-de-camp and of his
chief-of-staff and his assistants, together with those for the wagons
and so on, made up a fairly large group of which R*** was the leader.

They left a month before we did.

My father took in his coach the fatal M. Lachèze, Captain Gault and
me. Colonel Ménard, the chief-of- staff, followed, with one of his
assistants, in a post-chaise. A big rascal, my father's valet, went
ahead as a courier. We travelled in uniform. I had a fine forage
cap which pleased me so much that I wore it all the time, but, as I
put my head out of the coach window frequently, because the coach
made me travel-sick, it so happened that during the night, when my
companions were asleep, the cap fell into the road. The coach, drawn
by six vigourous horses, was going at top speed. I did not dare have
it stopped and so I lost my cap. A bad omen! But I was to suffer far
worse things in the terrible campaign which we were about to
undertake. This incident upset me a good deal, but I said nothing
about it for fear of being chaffed about the way the new soldier was
looking after his kit.

My father stopped at Mâcon, at the house of an old friend. We
spent twenty-four hours there and then continued our journey to
Lyons. We were not more than a few leagues from there, and were
changing horses at the post-house of Limonest, when we noticed that
all the postilions had decorated their hats with tricolour ribbons,
and that there were flags of the same colours hanging from all the
windows. We asked the reason for this demonstration, and were told
that General Bonaparte had just arrived in Lyons...!

My father, who was certain that Bonaparte was still in the depths
of Egypt, treated this news as absurd, but he was taken aback when,
having sent for the post master, who had just returned from Lyons, he
was told, "I saw General Bonaparte, whom I know very well, because I
served under his command in Italy. He is staying in some hotel in
Lyon, and has with him his brother Louis, Generals Berthier, Lannes
and Murat, as well as a great, number of officers, and a Mameluke."

This could hardly have been more positive; however the revolution
had given rise to so many falsehoods, and factions had been so
cunning in inventing stories which would serve their ends, that my
father was still in doubt when we entered the suburbs of Lyon. All
the houses were draped with flags. Fireworks were going off. The
crowd filled the streets to the point of preventing our coach from
moving. There was dancing in the public squares and the air rang
with cries of "Vive Bonaparte. Saviour of the country!" It was
evident that Bonaparte was indeed in Lyon. My father said, "I was
well aware that he was to be sent for, but I did not think it would
be so soon. The coup has been well organised, and there are great
events to come. I feel sure that I was right to leave Paris. At
least, in the army I can serve the country without taking part in a
coup, which, however necessary, I find repugnant." Having said this,
he fell into a deep reverie, which lasted for the long time it took
us to work our way through the crowds to the hotel where our rooms
had been prepared.

The nearer we got to the hotel, the thicker the crowd became, and
when we reached the door we saw that it was hung about with Chinese
lanterns and guarded by Grenadiers. It was here that General
Bonaparte was staying, in rooms that had been booked a week before
for my father.

Although quick-tempered, my father did not say a word when the
hotelier, who had been compelled to obey the orders of the
municipality, came with some embarrassment to make his excuses. The
inn-keeper having added that he had arranged for our accommodation at
another hotel....very good, though of second grade....and run by one
of his relatives, my father simply asked Capt. Gault to tell the
postilion to take us there.

When we arrived, we were met by our courier, a lively fellow, who,
heated by the long journey he had just made and the numerous drinks
he had downed at each post-house had complained most loudly when he
found that the rooms booked for his master had been given to General
Bonaparte. The latter's aides-de-camp hearing this uproar and
learning the cause, went to warn their master that General Marbot had
been displaced to make room for him, and, at the same time, General
Bonaparte saw through his open window my father's two coaches pull up
at the door.

He had not been aware, until then, of the shabby way in which my
father had been treated; and as General Marbot, recently commandant
of Paris, and now a divisional commander in Italy was too important a
man to be treated unceremoniously, and also as General Bonaparte had
good reason to make himself popular with everybody, he ordered one of
his officers to go down straight away and ask General Marbot to come,
as a fellow soldier, and share his accommodation. Then, seeing the
coaches leave before his aide-de-camp could speak to my father,
Bonaparte went immediately, on foot, to offer his regrets in person.

The crowd which followed him set up a great noise of cheering,
which, as it drew near our hotel, should have warned us, but we had
heard so much since coming to the town that it did not occur to one
of us to look out of the window. We were all in the drawing-room
where my father was striding up and down, deep in thought, when the
valet-de-chambre, opening the double doors, announced, "The General
Bonaparte."

On entering, he hurried to embrace my father, who received him
very politely, but coolly. They had known each other for a long time.

The explanations about the lodgings could be disposed of in a few
words between two such people, and so they were. They had much else
to talk about; so they went alone into the bedroom, where they
remained in conference for more than an hour.

During this time, the officers who had come with General
Bonaparte chatted with us in the drawing-room. I never tired of
examining their martial appearance, their sun-bronzed faces, their
strange uniforms and their Turkish sabres, hung from cords. I
listened with interest to their stories of the campaign in Egypt, and
the battles which were fought there. I took pleasure in hearing them
talk of such celebrated places as the Pyramids, the Nile, Cairo,
Alexandria, Acre, the desert and so on. What delighted me most,
however, was the sight of the young Mameluke, Rustum. He had stayed
in the ante-chamber, where I went several times to admire his
costume, which he showed me willingly. He already spoke reasonable
French, and I never wearied of asking him questions.

General Lannes recalled having let me fire his pistols, when, in
1793, he was serving under my father in the camp at Miral. He was
very friendly toward me, and neither of us then foresaw that one day
I should be his aide-de-camp, and that he would die in my arms at
Essling. General Murat came from the same region as we did, and as
he had been a shop-assistant to a silk merchant at Saint-Céré during
the period when my family spent the winter there, he had often come
to the house, bringing purchases to my mother. My father, also, had
rendered him a number of services, for which he was always grateful. 
He gave me a hug, and reminded me that he had often held me in his
arms, when I was an infant.

General Bonaparte and my father having come back into the room,
they presented to one another the members of their suites. Generals
Lannes and Murat were old acquaintances of my father, who welcomed
them with great affability. He was a little distant with General
Berthier, whom, however he had seen before, when he was in the
bodyguard and Berthier was an engineer.

General Bonaparte, who knew my mother, asked me, very politely,
for news of her. He complimented me most warmly on having, while yet
so young, taken up a military career, and taking me gently by the
ear, which was always the most flattering caress which he bestowed on
those with whom he was pleased, he said to my father, "One day this
will be a second General Marbot." This prediction came true, although
at that time I had no expectation of it. However I was very proud of
these words. It takes so very little to make a child feel pleased
with himself.

When the visit was over, my father disclosed nothing of what had
been said between him and General Bonaparte; but I learned later that
Bonaparte, without stating his objectives clearly, had sought, by the
most adroit cajolements, to win my father over to his side, and that,
my father had always dodged the issue.

Disgusted at seeing the people of Lyon running in front of
Bonaparte, as if he was already the sovereign of France, my father
declared that he wanted to leave at dawn the next day; but as his
coaches needed some repairs, he was forced to spend an entire day at
Lyon. I profited from this to have a new forage cap made, and,
enchanted with this purchase, I took no notice of the political
conversations, about which, to tell the truth, I understood little.

My father went to return the visit he had received from General
Bonaparte. They walked alone for a very long time in the hotel's
little garden, while their suites remained respectfully at a
distance. We saw them sometimes gesture with warmth, and at other
times speak more calmly; then Bonaparte, with a wheedling look, went
up to my father and put his arm through his in a friendly fashion,
probably so that the officials who were in the courtyard and the many
spectators who hung out of neighbouring windows might conclude that
General Marbot agreed with the plans of General Bonaparte; for this
crafty man neglected nothing to achieve his aims.

My father came away from this second conversation even more
pensive than he had been after the first, and on coming back to the
hotel, he ordered our departure for the next day. Unfortunately, the
next day, General Bonaparte was to make an excursion round the town 
to inspect the heights suitable for fortification, and all the
post-horses were reserved for him. I thought that at this blow my
father would become angry, but he contented himself by saying, "There is the beginning of omnipotence." And told his staff to see if
they could hire any horses, so keen was he to get away from the town
and from the sights which offended him. No spare horses could be
found. Then Col. Ménard, who was born in the Midi, and knew the
district perfectly, observed that the road from Lyon to Avignon was
in such a poor state of repair that the coaches might be badly
damaged if they attempted it, and it would be better to embark them
on the Rhône, the descent of which would offer us an enchanting
spectacle. My father, who was no great lover of the picturesque,
would, at any other time, have rejected this advice, but as it gave
him the opportunity to leave the town a day earlier, he agreed to
take to the Rhône.

Col. Ménard then hired a large boat, the coaches were put on
board, and the next day, early in the morning, we all embarked: a
decision which was very nearly the end of us.

It was autumn. The water was very low. All the time the boat
touched and scraped along the bottom. One feared that it might be
torn open. We slept the first night at Saint-Péray, next at Tain, and
took two days to get as far down as the junction with the Drôme.
There we had much more water, and went along rapidly; but a dangerous
high wind called the Mistral hit us when we were about a quarter
league above the bridge known as Pont Saint-Esprit. The boatmen were
unable to reach the bank. They lost their heads, and set themselves
to praying instead of working, while a furious wind and a strong
current were driving the boat towards the bridge! We were about to
crash against the pier of the bridge and be sunk, when my father and
all of us, taking up boat-hooks, hurried forward to fend off from the
pier which we were about to strike.

The shock was so severe that it knocked us into the thwarts, but
the push had changed the direction of the boat, which, by a
miraculous piece of good fortune, shot through under the arch. The
boatmen then recovered a little from their terror and resumed some
sort of control of their boat; but the Mistral continued, and the two
coaches offering a resistance to the wind made any manoeuvre almost
impossible.
At last, six leagues above Avignon, we went aground on a very
large island, where the bow of the boat dug into the sand in such a
way that it would not be possible to get it out without a gang of
labourers, and we were listing over so far that we feared being
swamped at any moment. We put some planks between the boat and the
shore and, with the help of some rope, we all got ashore without
accident, though with some difficulty.

There could be no thought of re-embarking in the very high
wind,(although without rain), and so we pushed on into the interior
of the island, which we thought at first was uninhabited; but
eventually we came across a sort of farm, where we found some good
folk who made us very welcome. We were dying of hunger, but it was
impossible to go back to the boat for food, and all we had was a
little bread.

We were told that the island was full of poultry, which was
allowed to run wild, and which the peasants shot, when they wanted
some. My father was very fond of shooting, and he needed some
relaxation from his problems, so we borrowed guns from the peasants,
some pitch-forks and sticks, and we set off on a hen shoot. We shot
several, though it was not easy to hit them as they flew like
pheasants. We also picked up many of their eggs in the woods.
When we returned to the farm, we lit a big fire in the middle of a
field, around which we set up a bivouac, while the valet, helped by
the farmer, prepared the eggs and the chickens in a variety of ways. 
We supped well and then bedded down on some hay, no one daring to
accept the beds which the good peasants offered us, as they seemed to
us to be far from clean.

By day-break the wind had dropped, so all the peasants and the
boatmen took spades and picks, and after several hours of hard work
they got the boat afloat, enabling us to continue our journey towards
Avignon, which we reached without any further accidents. Those that
had befallen us were so embroidered in the telling, that the rumour
reached Paris that my father and all his staff had been drowned.

The approach to Avignon, particularly when one comes down the
Rhône, is very picturesque. The old Papal Château; the ramparts by
which the city is surrounded; its numerous steeples and the Château
de Villeneuve rising opposite, combine to make a fine prospect. At
Avignon we met Mme. Ménard and one of her nieces, and we spent three
days in the town, visiting the charming outskirts, including the
fountain of Vaucluse. My father was in no hurry to leave, because
M. R*** h d written to say that the very hot weather,still persisting
in the Midi,had forced him to slow the pace of his march and my
father did not wish to arrive before his horses.

From Avignon we headed for Aix, but when we reached Bompart, on
the banks of the Durance, which, at that time, was crossed by a
ferry, we found the river so swollen by flood, that it would not be
possible to cross for at least five or six hours. We were debating
whether to return to Avignon, when the operator of the ferry, a
gentlemanly sort of person, who owned a charming little castle on the
height some five hundred paces from the river bank, came and begged
my father to rest there until the coaches could be embarked. He
accepted, hoping that it would be for a few hours only; but it
appeared that there had been heavy storms in the Alps, where the
Durance has its source, for the river continued to rise all day, and
we were compelled to accept lodging for the night, which was offered
most cordially by the owner of the castle. The weather being fine we
spent the day walking. It was a break in our travels which I
enjoyed.

The next day, seeing that the flood-water was running even more
rapidly than the evening before, our host, who was a devout
Republican, and who knew the river well enough to judge that we would
not be able to cross for twenty-four hours, hurried off, unknown to
us, to the little town of Cavaillon, which is about two leagues from
Bompart, on the same bank of the river. He had gone to inform all the
"Patriots" of the locality that he had in his house divisional
General Marbot. He then returned to the castle, where, an hour or so
later, we saw the arrival of a cavalcade composed of the keenest
"Patriots" of Cavaillon, who had come to beg my father to accept an
invitation to a banquet, which they offered him in the name of all
the notables of the town, "Always so staunchly Republican."

My father, who found these sort of occasions far from agreeable,
at first refused; but these "Citoyens" were so insistent, saying that
everything had been organised and that the guests had gathered, that
my father gave in and went off to Cavaillon.

The best hotel had been decked with garlands, and was graced by
the presence of the local dignitaries from the town and its
outskirts. After an interminable number of compliments, we took our
places at a table laden with the most exclusive dishes. Above all,
there were ortolans, birds which thrive well in this part of the
country.

A great many toasts were drunk. Virulent speeches were made,
denouncing the "Enemies of liberty" and the dinner did not end until
ten o'clock in the evening. It was a little late to return to
Bompart, and anyway, my father could not with politeness leave his
hosts the moment the meal was over. He decided then to spend the
night at Cavaillon, and the rest of the evening was passed in rather
noisy talk. Eventually, one by one, the guests went home and we were
left alone.

The next morning, M. Gault asked the inn-keeper how much my father
owed for his part in the immense feast of the night before, which he
assumed was a communal meal in which each paid for his own share. 
The inn-keeper presented him with a bill of more than 1500 francs. 
The good "Patriots" not having paid a single sou!...We were told that
though some had expressed a wish to pay, the great majority had
replied that this would be "An insult to General Marbot"....!

Capt. Gault was furious at this procedure, but my father, who at
first could not get over his astonishment, burst into laughter, and
told the inn-keeper to go and collect the money at Bompart, to where
we returned straight away, without saying a word of this to the
chatelaine; whose servants we tipped handsomely, and then, taking
advantage of the fall in the water level, we at last crossed the
Durance and made our way to Aix.

Although I might not yet be of an age to discuss politics with my
father, what I had heard him say led me to believe that his
Republican ideas had been much modified over the preceding two years,
and what he had experienced as a supposed guest of honour at
Cavaillon had severely shaken them, but he did not display any
ill-feeling on the subject of this banquet, and was even amused at
the anger of M. Gault, who said repeatedly, "I am not surprised that,
in spite of their cost, these scoundrels produced so many ortolans,
and ordered so many bottles of good wine! "

After spending a night at Aix, we left for Nice. This was the last
stage of our journey. While we were travelling through the mountain
and the beautiful forest of Esterel, we encountered the Colonel of
the 1st Hussars, who, escorted by an officer and several troopers,
was taking some lame horses, returned by the army, back to the depot
at Puy-en-Velay. This colonel was named M. Picart and had been given
his command because of his administrative ability. He was sent
frequently to the depot to arrange for the equipment of men and
horses, which he then forwarded to the fighting units, where he
appeared but rarely and did not stay for long.

When he saw Col. Picart, my father had the coach stopped and got
out, and after presenting me to my colonel, he took him on one side,
and asked him to name an intelligent and well educated
non-commissioned officer who might be made my mentor. The Colonel
named Sergeant Pertelay. My father made a note of the name, and we
continued on our way to Nice; where we found M.R*** settled in an
excellent hotel, with our coaches and horses in first-class order.

Chap. 8.

The town of Nice was full of troops, among which was a squadron
of the 1st Hussars, to which regiment I belonged. In the absence
of its colonel, the regiment was commanded by a Major Muller. On
learning that the divisional general had arrived, Muller came to see
my father, and it was agreed between them that, after a few days
rest, I should begin my service in the seventh company, commanded by
Capt. Mathis.

Although my father was very good to me, I was so much in awe of
him that I was very shy in his presence, a shyness which he thought
was greater than was really the case; he said I should have been a
girl, and often called me madamoiselle Marcellin, which annoyed me
very much, especially now that I was a Hussar. It was to overcome
this shyness, that my father wished me to serve in the ranks, and in
any case, as I have already said, one could not join the army except
as a private soldier. My father, it is true, could have attached me
to his personal staff, since my regiment was part of his division,
but, quite apart from the notion which I have described above, he
wanted me to learn how to saddle and bridle my own horse and to look
after my arms and equipment; also, he did not want his son to enjoy
the least privilege, as this would have had a bad effect on the rest
of the troops. It was already enough that I was to be allowed to join
a squadron without undergoing a long and wearisome period of training
at the depot. I passed several days with my father and his staff,
travelling about the district round Nice, which was very beautiful,
but the moment for my entry into the squadron having arrived, my
father asked Major Muller to send him Sergeant Pertelay.

Now, there were two brothers of this name in the regiment, both of
them sergeants, but having nothing else, physically or mentally in
common, the elder being something of a scamp, while the younger was
thoroughly respectable. It was this latter whom the colonel had
intended to appoint as my mentor, but in the short time which he and
my father had spent together, Col. Picart had forgotten, when naming
Pertelay, to add the younger: furthermore, this Pertelay was not in
the part of the squadron which was stationed in Nice, while the elder
was in the very company, the seventh, which I was about to join.

Major Muller believed that the colonel had named the elder to my
father and that this wild character had been chosen to open the eyes
of an innocent and shy young man, which I then was. So he sent us
the elder Pertelay.

This example of the old type of Hussar was a rowdy, quarrelsome,
swashbuckling, tippler, but also brave to the point of foolhardiness;
for the rest, he was completely ignorant of anything that was not
connected with his horse, his arms and his duties in the face of the
enemy. Pertelay the younger, on the other hand, was quiet, polite,
and well-educated. He was a handsome man and just as brave as his
brother, and would surely have gone far had he not, while still very
young, been killed in action.

Now to return to the elder. He arrived at my father's quarters,
and what did we see? A fine fellow, very well turned out it is true,
but with his shako tipped over one ear, his sabre trailing on the
ground, his red face slashed by an immense scar, moustaches six
inches long, which, stiffened by wax, curled up into his ears, two
big plaits of hair, braided from his temples, which, escaping from
his shako, hung down to his chest, and with all this an air...! An
air of rakishness which was increased by his speech, which was
rattled out in a sort of Franco-Alsatian patois. This last did not
surprise my father, as he knew that the 1st Hussars were the former
regiment of Bercheny, which in earlier days recruited only Germans,
and where, until 1793, all the orders were given in German, which was
the language generally used by the officers and men, almost all of
whom came from the provinces bordering the Rhine. My father was
however exceedingly surprised by the style and manner of my proposed
mentor.

I learned later that he had hesitated to put me in the hands of
this bravo, but M. Gault having reminded him that Colonel Picart had
described him as the best N.C.O.in the squadron, he decided to try
it. So off I went with Pertelay, who, taking me by the arm without
ceremony, came to my room, showed me how to pack my kit into my
valise, and conducted me to a small barracks, situated in a former
monastery, and now occupied by a squadron of the 1st Hussars.

My mentor made me saddle and unsaddle the pretty little horse
which my father had bought me; then he showed me how to put on my
cloak and my arms, giving me a complete demonstration, and having
decided that he had explained to me all that was necessary, he
thought it time to go for dinner. My father, who wished me to eat
with my mentor, had given us extra money to meet the expense.

Pertelay took me to a small inn, which was crammed with Hussars,
Grenadiers and soldiers of every sort. We were served with a meal,
and on the table was placed an enormous bottle of red wine of the
most violent nature. Pertelay poured me a glassful. We clinked
glasses. My man emptied his and I raised mine without putting it to
my lips, for I had never drunk undiluted wine and I found the smell
of this liquid disagreeable. I admitted this to my mentor, who
shouted, in a stentorian voice, "Waiter! Bring some lemonade for this
boy who never drinks wine." A gale of laughter swept through the
room. I was mortified, but I could not bring myself to taste this
wine, and as I did not dare to ask for water, I dined without a
drink.

A soldier's apprenticeship has always been hard going. It was
particularly so at the time of which I write. I had, therefore, some
unhappy experiences to suffer. A thing I found unbearable was the
requirement to share my bed with another Hussar. The regulations
allotted only one bed for two soldiers. N.C.O.s alone were allowed
to have a bed each. On the first night which I spent in the
barracks, I had already gone to my bed when a tall, ungainly Hussar,
who arrived an hour after the others, approached it, and seeing that
it was occupied, he unhooked a lantern and stuck it under my nose to
examine me more closely. Then he got undressed. As I watched him, I
had no idea that he intended to get in beside me; but I was soon
disillusioned, when he said to me roughly, "Shove over, conscript!"
And got into the bed, taking up three-quarters of it, and began to
snore loudly. I was unable to sleep a wink, largely because of the
revolting odour arising from a large package which my comrade had
placed under the bolster, to raise his head. I could not think what
this could be, so to find out, I slid my hand gently toward this
object and found it to be a leather apron impregnated with cobbler's
wax, which shoemakers use to treat their thread. My amiable bed
companion was one of the men employed by the regimental bootmaker. I
was so disgusted that I got up, got dressed, and went to the stables
where I bedded down on a heap of straw. The next day I told Pertelay
of my misadventure, and he reported it to the sub-lieutenant
commanding the platoon. He was a well-educated man named
Leisteinschneider (in German, a stone-worker) who was later killed
in action. He understood how painful it must be for me to have to
sleep with a bootmaker, and he took it on himself to arrange for me
to have a bed in the N.C.O's room, something which pleased me
greatly.

Although the revolution had produced a great relaxation in the
general turn-out of troops, the 1st Hussars had kept theirs exactly
as it was when they were Bercheny's Hussars; so except for the
physical differences imposed by nature, all troopers had to resemble
one another in their appearance, and as the regiments of Hussars of
that period had not only pig-tails, but long plaited tresses which
hung from their temples and turned-up moustaches, it was the rule
that everyone belonging to the regiment must have moustache, pig-tail
and tresses. Now, as I had none of these things, my mentor took me
to the regimental wig-maker where I bought a false pig-tail and
tresses, which were attached to my own hair, already fairly long, as
I had let it grow since my enlistment. These embellishments
embarrassed me at first but I got used to them in a few days, and it
pleased me to imagine that they gave me the appearance of a seasoned
trooper. It was a different matter when it came to the moustache I
had no more of a moustache than a girl, and as a hairless face would
have spoiled the ranks of the squadron, Pertelay, as was the custom
of Bercheny, took a pot of black wax, and with his thumb he gave me
an enormous curling moustache, which covered my upper lip and reached
almost to, my eyes. The shakos of the time did not have a vizor, so
that, when I was on guard duty, or during an inspection, when one has
to remain perfectly still, the Italian sun, shining hotly onto my
face, sucked the moisture out of the wax of which my moustache was
made, and, as it dried it pulled at my skin in a most disagreeable
manner. However, I did not blink. I was a Hussar! A word that had
for me an almost magical significance; besides which, having engaged
in a military career, I understood very well that my first duty was
to obey the regulations.

My father and part of his division were still in Nice, when we
heard of the events of the 18th Brumaire, the overthrow of the
Directorate and the establishment of the Consulate. My father had
too much contempt for the Directorate to regret its downfall, but he
feared that, intoxicated by power, General Bonaparte, after
re-establishing order in France, would not restrict himself to the
modest title of consul, and he predicted to us that in a short time
he would aim to become king. My father was mistaken only in the
title, four years later Napoleon made himself emperor.

Whatever his misgivings about the future, my father congratulated
himself on not having been in Paris on the 18th Brumaire, and I
believe that had he been there he might well have opposed the actions
of General Bonaparte, but in the army, at the head of a division
facing the enemy, he was content to adopt the passive obedience of
the soldier. He even rejected proposals, which were made to him by a
number of generals and colonels, to march on Paris at the head of
their troops. "Who," he said to them, "will defend our frontiers if
we abandon them? And what will become of France if, to the war
against foreigners, we add the calamity of civil strife?" By these
wise observations he calmed down the hot-heads; but he was,
nonetheless, very disturbed by the coup which had just taken place:
he adored his country and would have greatly preferred that it could
have been saved without being submitted to the yoke of a dictator.

I have said that my father's principle reason for making me enlist
as a lowly Hussar had been to rid me of the simple notions of a
schoolboy, which had not been changed by my short acquaintance with
the world of Paris. The result exceeded his expectations, for living
amongst swaggering Hussars, and having as a mentor a sort of brigand
who laughed at my innocence, I began to howl with the wolves, and for
fear that I might be mocked for my timidity, I became a real devil.
This, however, was not enough for me to be accepted into a sort of
brotherhood, which under the name of the clique, had members in all
the squadrons the 1st Hussars.

The clique was made up of all the biggest rogues, but, at the
same time, some of the bravest men in the regiment. The members of
the clique supported one another against all opposition, particularly
in the face of the enemy. They called themselves the Jokers, and
recognised one another by a notch cut into the metal of the first
button on the right hand row of the pelisse and dolman. The officers
were aware of the existence of the clique, but as its worst crimes
were limited to the adroit theft of chickens or sheep, or some trick
played on the local inhabitants, and as the Jokers were always at the
forefront in any action, they turned a blind eye. I was young and
feckless, and I longed desperately to belong to this raffish society,
which I thought would raise my standing amongst my comrades; but it
was in vain that I frequented the salle-d'armes to practice
swordsmanship and the use of the pistol and carbine, and that I dug
my elbows into anyone who got in my way: allowed my sabre to trail on
the ground and tipped my shako over one ear, the members of the
clique regarded me as a child and refused to admit me to their
society. However, an unforeseen event led to my being accepted
unanimously.

The army of Italy was at this time in Liguria and spread out on a
front of more than sixty miles in length, the right of which was in
the Gulf of Spezzia, beyond Genoa, and the left at Nice and Var, that
is to say on the frontier of France. We had, therefore, the sea at
our backs, and we faced Piedmont, which was occupied by the Austrian
army, from which we were separated by that branch of the Apennines
which runs from Var to Gavi: a bad position, in which the army ran
the risk of being cut in two, which, in fact, happened some months
later.

My father, having been ordered to concentrate his division at
Savona, a small town, by the sea, ten leagues towards France from
Genoa, set up his headquarters in the bishop's palace. The infantry
was spread out among the market towns and villages of the
neighbourhood to keep watch on the valleys from which emerged the
roads which led to Piedmont. The 1st Hussars, who had come from Nice
to Savona, were encamped on a plain known as the Madona. The
outposts of the enemy were at Dego, four or five leagues from us, on
the forward slopes of the Apennines, whose summits were covered in
snow, whereas Savona and its surroundings enjoyed the mildest of
climates.

Our encampment would have been delightful if the rations had been
more plentiful; but there was at that time no main road from Nice to
Genoa; the sea was covered by English warships, so the army had to
live on what could be brought by detachments of mules along the
Corniche, or by small boat-loads, which could slip unnoticed along
the coast. These precarious supplies were scarcely enough to
provide, from day to day, sufficient food to support the troops; but,
happily, the country produced plenty of wine, which enabled them to
bear their privations with more resignation.

One fine day I was walking along the beach with my mentor when
we came on a "taverna," where there was a charming garden planted with
orange and lemon trees, under which were tables at which sat soldiers
of all kinds. He suggested that we went there, and although I had
never overcome my distaste for wine, I agreed, simply to please him.

In those days the cavalryman's belt did not have a hook, so that
when we went on foot, it was necessary to hold up the scabbard of the
sabre with one's left hand, and one could allow the end to trail on
the ground. This made a noise on the pavement, and looked rather
dashing, so of course I had to adopt this way of doing things. Thus
it happened that as we went into this garden, the end of my scabbard
came in contact with the foot of an enormous horse-gunner, who was
sprawled on his chair with his legs sticking out. The horse
artillery had been formed at the beginning of the revolutionary wars
from men taken from the companies of Grenadiers, who took advantage
of the occasion to get rid of their most troublesome characters. The
men of the flying artillery, as it was then called, were known for
their dash, but also for their love of quarreling.

The one whose foot the end of my scabbard had touched, shouted to
me in a very rude tone of voice, "Hussar, your sabre drags too much!"
I was going to walk on without saying any thing, when master
Pertelay, nudging me with his elbow, whispered, "Tell him to come
and lift it up." So I said to the gunner "Come and lift it up then!"
"That will be easy!" he replied. Then, at another whisper from
Pertelay, "I'd like to see you do it!" I said. On these words, the
gunner, or this Goliath, for he was at least six feet tall, sat up
straight with a threatening air... But my mentor pushed himself
between him and me. All the gunners who were in the garden came to
support their comrade, but a crowd of Hussars gathered beside
Pertelay and me. There was a lot of angry shouting with everyone
talking at once; I thought there was going to be a general melée.
However as the Hussars were in a majority of at least two to one,
they took the matter the more calmly, while the gunners realised that
if they started something they would get the worst of it, so in the
end the giant was made to understand that in brushing his foot with
my scabbard, I had in no way insulted him, and that should be the end
of the matter.

During the tumult, however, a trumpeter from the artillery, of
about twenty years of age, had offered me some insults, and in my
indignation I had pushed him so roughly that he had fallen into a
muddy ditch. It was agreed that this lad and I should fight a duel
with our sabres.

We left the garden, followed by all the assistants, and found
ourselves by the edge of the sea, on fine solid sand, ready for
battle. Pertelay knew that I was quite a good swordsman; however he
gave me some words of advice on how I should attack my adversary, and
fastened the hilt of my sabre to my hand with a large handkerchief,
which he rolled round my arm.

My father hated duelling. Not only because of his own conclusions
about this barbarous custom, but also, I believe, because in his
youth, when he was a member of the bodyguard, he had acted as second
for a comrade of whom he was very fond, and who was killed in a duel
over the most trivial matter. However that may be, when my father
took command, he ordered the police to arrest anyone caught engaging
in swordplay and bring them before him.

Although the trumpeter and I both knew of this order, we had,
nevertheless, taken off our dolmans and taken up our sabres. I had
my back to the town of Savona, my adversary was facing it, and we
were about to begin our combat when I saw the trumpeter duck to one
side, pick up his dolman and make off at top speed.

"Coward!....Runaway!" I shouted, and was about to, pursue him when
two iron hands grasped me by the collar. I turned my head and found
myself facing some eight to ten police! I understood then why my
antagonist had cleared off, followed by all the assistants, including
master Pertelay, whom I saw disappearing into the distance, as fast
as their legs could carry them, for fear of being arrested and
brought before the General.

There I was! Disarmed and a prisoner! I picked up my dolman, and
looking very sheepish, followed my captors, to whom I had not given my
name, as they led me to the Bishop's palace where my father was
installed. He was at that moment with General Suchet, who had come to
Savona to confer with him on service matters. They were walking in a
gallery which overlooked the courtyard. The police put me up before
General Marbot, without any idea that I was his son. The sergeant
explained why I had been arrested. Then my father, looking very
severe, gave me a lively dressing down, after which admonition, he
said to the sergeant, "Take this Hussar to the citadel." I left
without saying a word, and without General Suchet, who did not know
me, suspecting that the scene he had just witnessed had taken place
between a father and his son. It was not until the next day that he
learned the truth, and he has often spoken to me since, with
laughter, about the episode.

On my arrival at the citadel, an ancient Genoese building situated
near the harbour, I was locked into a big room lit by a high window,
which faced toward the sea. I recovered slowly from my fright. The
reprimand which I had received seemed to me to be deserved; however I
was less concerned at having disobeyed the General than I was at
having upset my father. I passed the rest of the day sadly enough.

In the evening, an old ex-soldier of the Genoan force brought me a
jug of water, a piece of ration bread, and a bale of straw, on which
I lay down, without being able to eat. I could not go to sleep; at
first because I was too upset, and later because of the arrival of
some large rats, which ran about me and soon made off with my piece
of bread. I was lying in the dark, a prey to my sad reflections,
when, at about ten o'clock, I heard the bolts of my prison being
drawn and I saw Spire, my father's old and faithful servant. He told
me that after my despatch to the citadel, Capt. Gault, Col. Ménard,
and all my father's officers had asked him to pardon me. The General
had agreed, and had sent him, Spire, to find me and take the order
for my release to the governor of the fort. I was taken before the
governor, General Buget, an excellent man, who had lost an arm in
battle. He knew me and was very fond of my father. He felt it his
duty, after giving me back my sabre, to give me a long lecture, to
which I listened patiently, but which made me reflect that I would
get a much worse telling-off from my father. I did not have the
courage to face this and decided to evade it, if that were possible. 
At last we were let out of the gates of the citadel. The night was
dark, and Spire went in front with a lantern. As we walked through
the narrow twisting streets, the good fellow, delighted to be
bringing me back, recounted all the comforts which would await me at
headquarters. "But," he said, "you must expect a severe ticking-off
from your father." This last remark put an end to my doubts, and in
order to let my father's anger cool off, I decided it would be better
not to appear before him for a few days and that I would return to my
bivouac at Madona. I could easily have slipped away without playing
any trick on poor Spire; but fearing that he might be able to pursue
me by the light of his lantern, I gave it a kick which sent it flying
ten paces from him, and ran off while the good man, groping for his
lantern, shouted, "Ah...! You little blighter! I shall tell your
father!"

After wandering for some time in the deserted streets, I found at
last the road to Madona, and made my way to the regimental camp. All
the Hussars thought I was in prison. As soon as one of them
recognised me by the light of the fires, I was surrounded and
questioned. There was much laughter when I described how I had got
away from Spire. The members of the clique were so satisfied with my
behaviour that they decided unanimously to admit me into their
society, which was preparing an expedition to go, that very night, to
the gates of Dego and steal a herd of cattle which belonged to the
Austrian army. The French Generals and even the corps commanders
were obliged to ignore these raids, which, in the absence of regular
rations, the soldiers carried out beyond the advance posts in order
to obtain food. In each regiment the boldest soldiers had formed
marauding bands who were marvellously skilled at finding out where
supplies were being assembled for the enemy, and using ruse and
audacity to lay hands on them.

A rascally horse-dealer had told the clique that a herd of cattle
which he had sold to the Austrians was in a meadow a quarter of a
league from Dego, and now sixty Hussars, armed only with their
carbines, were on their way to capture it. Avoiding the main road, we
went several leagues into the mountain by winding and atrociously
rough tracks. We surprised five Croats, who had been left to guard
the herd, asleep in a shed. To prevent them from going to waken the
garrison at Dego, we tied them up and left them there. We drove away
the herd without a shot being fired and returned to the camp, tired
out, but delighted to have played such a successful trick on the
enemy, and at the same time acquired some food.

This event illustrates the already wretched condition of the army
of Italy, and demonstrates to what a state of disorganisation such
neglect will bring troops; whose officers are obliged not only to
tolerate these sort of expeditions, but to take advantage of the
supplies they procure without seeming to know whence they come.

Chap. 9.

Happy in my military career, I had not even reached the rank of
corporal when I was raised immediately to that of sergeant. This is
how it came about.

On the left of my father's division was that commanded by General
Séras, whose headquarters were at Finale. This division, which
occupied the part of Liguria where the mountains are steepest, was
composed solely of infantry, the cavalry being unable to operate,
except in small detachments, on the few open spaces which at this
point separate the shore of the Mediterranean from the mountains of
Piedmont. General Séras, having been ordered to push forward with the
greater part of his division to reconnoitre the area of Mount
Santa-Giacomo, beyond which there were several valleys, wrote to my
father requesting the loan of a detachment of fifty Hussars for this
expedition; a request which could not be turned down. So my father
agreed and named Lt. Leisteinschneider as commander of this
detachment, of which my platoon was a part.

We left Madona to make our way to Finale. There was, at that
time, only a very bad road along the sea coast, known as the
Corniche. The lieutenant badly injured his foot as a result of a
fall from his horse, and so the command passed to the next in
seniority who was a sergeant named Canon, a handsome young man,
capable and well-trained, and full of self-assurance.

General Séras, at the head of his division, advanced next day
onto the snow-clad slopes of Mount Santa-Giacomo, where we encamped. 
He had intended to go forward the next day, with he almost certain
expectation of making contact with the enemy; but in how great a
number? On this subject the General had absolutely no information,
and as his orders from the commander-in-chief were to reconnoitre the
Austrian positions at this point of the line, but not to engage in
combat if he found the enemy in strength, General Séras reflected
that if he advanced his infantry division into the middle of the
mountains, where often one could not see enemy troops until one found
oneself face to face with them at a bend in a gorge, he might be led,
in spite of his wishes, into a major battle against superior forces,
and obliged to carry out a dangerous retreat.

He decided therefore to proceed with caution, and to push out,
three or four leagues in front of him, an advance party which could
probe the country and, most importantly, take some prisoners, from
whom he hoped to get some information; for the peasantry either knew
nothing or would not talk. As a small body of infantry would be
endangered if he advanced them too far, and as, also, men on foot
would take too long to return with the information which he so
urgently needed, it was to the fifty Hussars that he gave the task of
going ahead and exploring the terrain. Then, as the country was very
broken, he gave a map to our sergeant, briefed him, in front of the
detachment and sent us off, two hours before daylight, repeating that
it was essential that we went ahead until we made contact with the
enemy outposts, from which he would very much like us to capture a
few prisoners.

Sergeant Canon managed his detachment according to the book. He
sent out a small advance-guard, put scouts on the flanks and took all
the precautions usual in partisan warfare. When we had gone some two
leagues from the camp, we came on a large inn. Our sergeant
questioned the inn-keeper and was told that, a good hour's march
away, was a body of Austrian troops, the size of which he did not
know, though he knew that the leading regiment contained some very
unpleasant Hussars, who had maltreated a number of the local
inhabitants.

Having gathered this information, we set off once more, but hardly
had we gone a hundred paces, when Sergeant Canon, writhing on his
horse, declared that he had the most dreadful pain and could not go
any further. He handed the command to Sergeant Pertelay, who was next
in seniority. Pertelay, however pointed out that he was an Alsatian
and was unable to read French, and could not, in consequence,
understand the map or the written instructions given by the general.
He did not wish to accept the command. All the other sergeants, old
Bercheny Hussars, refused for the same reason, as did the corporals. 
In vain, as a matter of duty, I offered to read the general's
instructions and explain our route on the map for any of the
sergeants who would take over; they all refused anew; then, to my
great surprise, these old sweats turned to me and said "Take command
yourself. We'll follow you and obey all your orders."

The rest of the party expressed the same wish, and it was clear
that if I refused, we would go no further and the honour of the
regiment would be blemished; for it was essential that the general's
orders were carried out, above all when it was perhaps a matter of
avoiding a disaster for his division. So I accepted the command, but
not without asking Sergeant Canon if he felt able to continue. At
which point he began to complain once more, left us and returned to
the inn. I promise you I thought he was really ill, but the men of
the detachment, who knew him better, made some very disparaging
remarks about him.

I think I can say, without boasting, that nature has endowed me
with a good stock of courage. I might even add that there was a time
when I enjoyed facing danger. My military record and the thirteen
wounds I have received in the wars are, I believe, sufficient proof.
So, on taking command of fifty men, placed under my orders in such
extraordinary circumstances,--me, a simple Hussar, seventeen years of
age--I resolved to prove to my comrades that if I had neither
experience nor military talent, I was at least brave; and placing
myself resolutely at their head I set off in the direction where I
knew we would encounter the enemy.

We had been marching for a long time when our scouts spotted a
peasant who was trying to hide. They hastened to capture him and
bring him back. I questioned him. He came, it seemed, from four or
five leagues away, and claimed that he had not seen any Austrian
troops. I was sure he was lying, either from fear or from cunning,
because we were very close to the enemy cantonments. I remembered
then that I had read in a book about partisan warfare, which my
father had given me to study, that to persuade the inhabitants of a
country in which one is fighting to talk, it is sometimes necessary
to frighten them. So I roughened my voice, and, trying to give my
boyish face a ferocious look, I shouted, "What! You rascal! You have
been wandering about in a country occupied by a great body of
Austrian troops, and you claim you have seen nothing? You are a spy!
Come on lads, let's shoot him right away."

I ordered four Hussars to dismount, indicating to them not to harm
the fellow, who, finding himself held by the troopers whose carbines
had just been loaded in front of him, was overcome by such terror
that he swore that he would tell me all he knew. He was a servant in
a monastery, who had been given a letter to take to relatives of the
Prior, and he had been told that if he ran into the French, he was
not to tell them where the Austrians were; but now that he was
forced to speak, he told us that a league from us there were several
regiments of the enemy billeted in the villages, and that about a
hundred of Barco's Hussars were in a hamlet which was only a short
distance away. Questioned about the defensive precautions taken by
these Hussars, he said that before one reached the houses, they had
posted a picket-guard which was in a garden surrounded by hedges, and
that when he went through the hamlet, the remainder were preparing to
water their horses at a little pond on the far side of the buildings.

Having received this information, I had now to make a plan of
action. I wished to avoid passing the picket-guard who, being
entrenched behind hedges, could not be attacked by cavalry, while the
fire from their carbines would perhaps kill several of my men and
give warning of our approach. To do this required that we go round
the hamlet, so as to reach the pond, and fall, unexpectedly, on our
enemies. But how were we to pass without being seen? I then ordered
the peasant to lead us on a detour, and promised to set him free as
soon as we reached the other side of the hamlet, which we could see:
when he refused to do so, I had him taken by the scruff of the neck
by one Hussar while another held a pistol to his ear, which made him
change his mind. He guided us very well; some large hedges hid our
movements, and we got completely round the village to see, at the
edge of a small pond, the Austrian squadron peacefully watering their
horses.
All the riders were carrying their arms, which is the usual
practice for outposts, but those in command had neglected a
precaution which is essential in war, that is, to allow only one troop
at a time to unbridle their horses and enter the water, while the
remainder stay on the bank ready to repel any attack. Confident
that there were no French about and relying on the watchfulness of
the guard posted at the entry to the village, the enemy commander had
thought this precaution unnecessary. This was to be his downfall.

When I was some five hundred paces from the pond, I ordered the
peasant to be released, who ran off as fast as his legs could carry
him; then, sabre in hand, and having forbidden my comrades to utter
any war-cry, I advanced at full gallop on the enemy Hussars, who did
not see us until a moment before we arrived at the pond. The pond's
banks were too high for the horses to climb out, and there was only
one practicable way in, which was the one that served as the village
drinking place. It is true that this was a wide area, but there were
more than a hundred horsemen crowded together there, all with their
bridles in their hands and their carbines slung, so unconcerned that
some of them were singing. You may imagine their surprise!

I attacked them immediately with carbine fire, which killed
several, wounded many and knocked out a lot of their horses. The
confusion was total! Nevertheless, their captain, rallying some men
who were nearest to the outlet, tried to force a passage to get out
of the water, and opened fire on us, which although not sustained,
wounded two of my men; they then engaged us, but Pertelay having
killed the captain with a blow from his sabre, the rest crowded back
into the pond. To escape from the carbine fire, many tried to reach
the other bank; several lost their footing and a good number of men
and horses were floundering in the water. Those who reached the other
side found that their horses could not clamber up the steep edge and
so they abandoned them, and pulling themselves up by the aid of trees
growing along the bank, they fled in disorder into the countryside.

The twelve men of the picket-guard came running at the sound of
firing. We attacked them with the sabre and they also took to
flight. However there remained about thirty men still in the pond,
afraid to try to escape because we occupied the only way out. They
shouted to us that they were surrendering; I accepted this and as
they came to the bank, made them throw down their arms. Most of these
men and horses were wounded, but as I wished to have some trophy from
our victory, I chose seventeen horses and riders who were fit, and
placing them in the middle of the detachment,I abandoned the rest and
went off at the gallop, going round the village, as before.

It was just as well that I made a rapid retreat, for as I had
foreseen, the fugitives had run to warn the nearby troops who had
already been alerted by the sound of gunfire, and within half an hour
there were five hundred horsemen on the banks of the little pond and
some thousands of infantrymen close behind them. We, however, were
two leagues away, our wounded having been able to sustain a full
gallop. We stopped for a short time on top of a hill to bandage
their wounds, and we laughed to see in the distance several enemy
columns following our trail, since we knew that they had no hope of
catching us, because in their fear of falling into an ambush they
were feeling their way forward very slowly. Being now out of danger,
I gave Pertelay two of the best-mounted troopers and sent him off
post-haste to inform general Séras of the success of our mission;
then marshalling the detachment into good order, with our prisoners
in the centre and well guarded, I set off at a slow trot down the
road to the inn.

It would be impossible for me to describe the joy of my companions
and the praises which they heaped on me during this journey. It
could be summed up in these words, which in their minds was the
highest commendation, "You are truly worthy to serve in Bercheny's
Hussars, the finest regiment in the world."

Meanwhile, what had been happening at Santo-Giacomo during my
absence? After several hours of waiting, General Séras, impatient for
news, saw some smoke on the horizon; his aide-de-camp put his ear to
a drum placed on the ground, a common expedient in wartime, and heard
the distant sound of gunfire. General Séras was uneasy, and having
no doubt that the cavalry detachment was at grips with the enemy, he
took a regiment of infantry with him as far as the inn. When he
arrived there, he saw, under the cart-shelter, a Hussar's horse tied
up to the rail; it was Sergeant Canon's. The inn-keeper appeared and
was questioned. He replied that the sergeant of Hussars had gone no
further than the inn, and had been, for several hours, in the dining
room. The General went in, and what did he find but Sergeant Canon
asleep by the fireside with, in front of him, an enormous ham, two
empty bottles and a coffee cup! The wretched sergeant was woken up;
he attempted once more to make the excuse of a sudden indisposition,
but the accusing remains of the formidable meal which he had just
eaten, gave the lie to his claims of illness, so General Séras was
very short with him. The General's anger was increasing at the
thought that a detachment of fifty cavalrymen handed over to the
command of a young soldier had probably been wiped out by the enemy,
when Pertelay and the two troopers who were with him arrived at the
gallop to announce our victory and the approaching arrival of
seventeen prisoners. As General Séras, in spite of this happy
outcome, continued to berate Sergeant Canon, Pertelay said to him, in
his bluff outspoken way, "Don't scold him, mon General, he's such a
coward that if he'd been in charge we wouldn't have succeeded!" A
remark which did nothing to improve the awkward position of
Sgt. Canon, who was now placed under arrest.

I arrived in the midst of these goings-on. General Séras broke
poor Sgt. Canon, and made him take off his chevrons in front of a
regiment of infantry and fifty Hussars. Then, coming to me, whose
name he did not know, he said, "You have carried out successfully a
mission which would normally be given only to an officer. I am sorry
that the powers of a divisional commander do not allow me to promote
you to sous-lieutenant, only the commander-in-chief can do that, and
I shall ask him to, do so, but in the meantime I promote you to
sergeant." He thereupon ordered his aide-de-camp to announce this in
front of the detachment. In order to carry out this formality, the
aide-de-camp had to ask my name, and it was only then that General
Séras learned that I was the son of his comrade, General Marbot. I
was very pleased about this, because it demonstrated to my father
that favouritism had nothing to do with my promotion.

Chap. 10.

The information which General Séras obtained from the prisoners
having decided him to push forward, he ordered his division to come
down from the heights of Mont Santa-Giacomo, and to encamp that
evening near to the inn. The prisoners were sent to Finale, and as
for the horses they belonged by rights to the Hussars. They were all
of good quality, but, according to the custom of the time, which was
aimed at favouring poorly mounted officers, captured horses were
always sold for five louis. This was a fixed price and was paid in
cash. As soon as the camp was established the sale began. General
Séras, the officers of his staff, the colonels and battalion
commanders of the regiments in his division soon took up our
seventeen horses, which produced the sum of 85 louis. This was
handed over to my detachment, who, not having had any pay for six
months, were delighted with this windfall, for which they gave me the
credit.

I had some money, so I did not pocket my share from the sale of
the horses, but to celebrate my promotion, I bought from the
inn-keeper two sheep, an enormous cheese and a load of wine, with
which my detachment had a feast. This was one of the happiest days
of my life.

General Séras, in his report to General Championet included a most
flattering reference to my conduct, and said the same sort of thing
to my father; so when, several days later, I brought the detachment
back to Savona, my father welcomed me with the greatest show of
affection. I was highly delighted; I rejoined the camp where all the
regiment was united; my detachment had arrived there before me and
had told of what we had done, giving me always the leading part in
our success, so I was heartily welcomed by the officers and soldiers
and also by my new comrades, the non-commissioned officers, who
handed me my sergeant's stripes.

It was on this day that I met the younger Pertelay for the first
time, he had come back from Genoa, where he had been stationed for
some months. I became friendly with this excellent man, and
regretted not having had him as my mentor at the beginning of my
career, for he gave me much good advice, which steadied me up and
made me break away from the wild men of the clique.

The commander-in-chief, Championet, intended to carry out some
operations in the interior of Piedmont, but having very little in the
way of cavalry, he ordered my father to send him the 1st Hussars, who
could no longer stay at Madon, in any case, because of the shortage
of fodder. I parted from my father with much regret and left with the
regiment.

We went along the Corniche as far as Albenga. We crossed the
Apennines, in spite of the snow, and entered the fertile plains of
Piedmont. The commander-in-chief fought a number of actions in the
area round Fossano, Novi and Mondovi, some of which were successful
and others not.

In one of these actions I had the opportunity of seeing
Brigadier-general Macard, a soldier of fortune whom the revolutionary
upheavals had carried almost straight from the rank of trumpet-major
to that of general! He was a good example of a type of officer
created by luck and their personal courage who, although displaying
much bravery before the enemy, were nevertheless incapable of
occupying effectively a senior position because of their lack of
education.

This extraordinary character, a veritable colossus, was well known
for one peculiarity. When about to lead his troops in a charge
against the enemy, it was his custom to shout "Let's go! I'll put on
my animal dress." Then he took off his uniform, his jacket and shirt
and retained only his plumed hat, his leather breeches and his big
boots! Thus, naked to the waist, he displayed a torso almost as hairy
as that of a bear, which gave him a very strange appearance indeed. 
Once in his animal dress, as he called it, General Macard, sabre in
hand, hurled himself at the enemy horsemen, swearing like a pagan;
but it so happened that he rarely reached any of them, for at the
unexpected and terrible sight of this kind of giant, half naked and
covered in hair rushing toward them uttering the most fearsome yells
the enemy often fled in all directions, not knowing if they had to
deal with a man or some extraordinary wild beast.

General Macord was entirely ignorant, which sometimes amused the
more educated officers under his command. One day one of them came to
ask permission to go into a neighbouring town to order a pair of
boots. "Parbleu!" said the general, "This has come at just the
right time; since you are going to the bootmaker, sit down and take
the measurements of my boots and order a new pair for me." The
officer, much surprised, said that he could not take the measurements
as he had no idea how to do this, having never been a boot-maker. "What!" exclaimed the general loudly, "I see you sometimes spend
whole days sketching and drawing lines opposite the mountains and
when I ask what you are doing, you say you are measuring the
mountains. How is it that you can measure objects which are more than
a league away, and yet you cannot measure a pair of boots which are
under your nose? Come on, take the measurements quickly and no more
nonsense." The officer assured him that this was impossible. The
general insisted; swore; got angry; and it was only with great
difficulty that other officers, attracted by the noise, were able to
put an end to this ridiculous scene. The general could never
understand how a man who could measure mountains could not measure a
pair of men's boots.

You should not think, as a result of this anecdote, that all the
general officers in the army of Italy were like the good general
Macord. Far from that, they contained in their number many men
distinguished by their education and manners; but at this time there
were still some senior officers who were completely out of place in
the higher ranks of the army. They were being weeded out little by
little.

The 1st Hussars took part in all the battles fought at this time
in Piedmont, and suffered many losses in encounters with the Austrian
heavy cavalry. After some marching and countermarching, and a series
of almost daily minor engagements, General Championet, having
concentrated the centre and left of his army between Coni and
Mondovi, attacked, at the end of December, several divisions of the
enemy army.

The encounter took place on a plain dotted with small hills and
clumps of trees. The 1st Hussars, attached to General Beaumont's
brigade, were positioned on the extreme right of the French army. As
the number of officers and men who make up a squadron is laid down in
the regulations, our regiment, having suffered casualties in the
previous affairs, instead of putting four squadrons into the line
could put only three; but having done this, there were some thirty
men left over, of which five were sergeants. I was one of this
number, as were both the Pertelays. We were formed into two sections
and Pertelay the younger was put in command. General Beaumont merely
instructed him to scout on the right flank of the army, and act as
the situation seemed to require. We then left the regiment and went
to explore the countryside.

In the meanwhile, a fierce battle commenced between the two
armies, and an hour later, when we were returning to our own lines
without having spotted anything on the flank, young Pertelay saw,
opposite us, and consequently on the extreme left of the enemy line,
a battery of eight guns whose fire was raking the French ranks. 
Very unwisely, this Austrian battery, in order to have a better field
of fire, had advanced onto a small hillock some seven or eight
hundred paces in front of the infantry division to which it belonged.
The commander of this artillery believed that he was quite safe
because the position he occupied dominated the whole French line, and
he thought that if any troops set out to attack him, he would see
them and would have time to regain the safety of the Austrian lines. 
He had not considered that a little clump of trees, close to where he
was, could conceal a party of French troops, and had thought no more
about it. But young Pertelay resolved to lead his men there, and
from there to fall upon the Austrian battery.

Pertelay, knowing that on the battlefield no one takes much notice
of a single horseman, explained his plan to us, which was for us to
go individually, making a detour by a sunken road, to arrive one by
one behind the wood on the left of the enemy battery, and from there
to make a sudden assault on it, without the fear of cannon-balls,
because we would be approaching from the side. We would capture the
guns and take them to the French lines. The first part of this plan
was executed without the Austrian gunners noticing; we reached the
back of the little wood, where we re-formed the sections. Pertelay
put himself at our head. We went through the wood, and sabre in
hand, threw ourselves on the enemy battery at the moment when it was
directing a murderous fire on our troops. We sabred some of the
gunners, but the rest hid under their ammunition wagons, where our
sabres could not reach them. As instructed by Pertelay, we did not
kill or wound the men on the limbers, but forced them at sword point
to make their horses pull the guns toward the French lines. This
order was obeyed in respect of six guns whose riders had remained on
horseback, but the riders for the two other guns had dismounted, and
although some of the Hussars took the horses by the bridle, they
refused to move.

The enemy infantry were running to the aid of their battery;
minutes seemed like hours to us; so young Pertelay, satisfied to have
captured six guns, ordered us to leave the others and to head, with
our booty, at the gallop, for the French lines.

This was a prudent measure, but it proved fatal to our leader, for
hardly had we begun our retreat, when the gunners and their officers
emerged from their hiding places under the wagons, loaded the two
guns which we had not taken with grape-shot and discharged a hail of
bullets into our backs.

You can well imagine that thirty horsemen and six artillery
pieces, each drawn by six horses and ridden by three transport
riders, all proceeding in a state of disorder, presented a target
which the grape-shot could hardly miss. We had two sergeants and
several Hussars killed or wounded, as well as two of the transport
riders. Some of the horses were also put out of action, so that most
of the teams were so disorganised that they could not move. 
Pertelay, keeping perfectly cool, ordered the traces of the dead or
injured horses to be cut and Hussars to take the place of the dead
transport riders, and we continued quickly on our way. However, the
commander of the Austrian battery made use of the few minutes we had
taken to do this to direct a second volley of grape-shot at us,
which caused further casualties, but we were so resolved not to
abandon the six guns which we had captured that we repaired the
damage as well as we could, and kept on the move. We were already in
touch with the French lines and out of the range of grape-shot, when
the enemy artillery officer changed projectiles and fired two
cannon-balls at us, one of which shattered the back of poor young
Pertelay.

However, our attack on the Austrian battery and its outcome had
been seen by the French generals who moved the line forward. The
enemy drew back, which allowed the remnants of the 1st Hussars to
revisit the area where our unfortunate comrades had fallen. Almost a
third of the detachment were killed or wounded. There were five
sergeants at the beginning of the action; three had perished; there
remained only Pertelay the elder and myself. The poor fellow was
wounded but suffered almost more mentally, for he adored his
brother, whom we all bitterly regretted. While we were paying him
our last respects and picking up the wounded, General Championet
arrived with General Suchet, his chief-of-staff. The
commander-in-chief had witnessed the actions of the platoon. He
gathered us round the six guns which we had just captured, and after
praising the courage with which we had rid the French army of a
battery which was causing them the most grievous losses, he added
that to reward us for having saved the lives of so many of our
comrades, and contributed to the day's success, he intended to use
the power which a recent decree of the First Consul had given him to
award "Armes d'honneur" and that he would award three sabres of
honour and one promotion to sous-lieutenant to the detachment, who
should decide amongst themselves who the recipients should be. We
then regretted even more keenly the loss of young Pertelay, who would
have made such a fine officer.

The elder Pertelay, a corporal and a Hussar were awarded the
sabres of honour, which, three years later gave the right to the
Cross of the Legion of Honour. It remained to be decided which of us
would be sous-lieutenant. All my comrades put my name forward, and
the commander-in-chief, recalling that General Séras had written to
him about my conduct at Santa-Giacomo, designated me
sous-lieutenant...! I had been a sergeant for only a month! I have to
admit, however, that during the capture of the guns, I had done no
more than the rest of my companions; but as I have already said,
these good Alsatians did not feel that they had the qualities to take
command and become officers. They were unanimous in choosing me, and
General Championet, as well as noting the favourable comments of
General Séras, was perhaps also glad to be able to please my father.

My father, however, was less than pleased with what he considered
to be my over-rapid promotion, and he wrote to me instructing me to
refuse it. I would have obeyed; but my father had written in the
same strain to General Suchet, the chief-of-staff, and this latter
had replied that the commander-in-chief would be very put out to find
that one of his divisional generals had taken it upon himself to
disapprove of a promotion which he had made. My father then authorised me to accept, and I was gazetted sous-Lieutenant in December 1799.

I was one of the last officers promoted by General Championet,
who, not being able to remain in Piedmont in the face of superior
forces, was compelled to re-cross the Apennines and lead his army
back to Liguria. He was greatly distressed to see his force breaking
down, because he was not given enough supplies to support it, and he
died two weeks after he had made me an officer. My father, who was
now the most senior divisional general, was made provisional
commander-in-chief of the army of Italy, whose headquarters were at
Nice. He therefore went there and immediately sent back to Provence
the few remaining cavalry, as there was no longer any fodder in
Liguria. So the 1st Hussars went back to France, but my father kept
me behind to become his aide-de-camp.

While we were at Nice, my father received an order from the war
ministry to go and take command of the advance guard of the army of
the Rhine, where his chief-of-staff Col. Ménard would join him. We
were very pleased at this, since want of supplies had reduced the
army of Italy to such a state of disorder that it seemed impossible
that it could be kept in Liguria. My father was not sorry to be
leaving an army which was disintegrating, and was likely to be
pushed back across the Var and into France. He prepared to move as
soon as General Masséna, who had been nominated to replace him, had
arrived. He sent M. Gault, his aide-de-camp, to Paris to buy maps and
make various preparations for our operations on the Rhine. But fate
had decreed otherwise, and my unfortunate father's grave was destined
to be in Italy.

When Masséna arrived he found no more than the shadow of an army:
the soldiers, without pay and almost without clothing and footwear,
existing on a quarter of the normal ration, were dying of
malnutrition as well as an epidemic of disease, the result of the
intolerable privations which they were suffering. The hospitals were
full but had no medicines. Some groups of soldiers, and even whole
regiments, were daily abandoning their posts and heading for the
bridge across the Var, where they forced a passage to get into France
and spread themselves over Provence, although saying that they were
willing to return if they were given food! The generals were unable
to remedy this appalling state of affairs. They became, daily more
discouraged, and all were requesting leave or retiring on the grounds
of ill-health. Masséna had expected that he would be joined in Italy
by several of the generals who had helped him to defeat the Russians
in Switzerland, among them, Soult, Oudinot and Gazan, but none of them
had yet arrived, and it was essential to do something about the
serious situation.

Masséna, who was born in La Turbie, a village in the little
principality of Monaco, was one of the most crafty Italians that ever
existed. He did not know my father, but he decided on their first
meeting that he was a big-hearted man who loved his country, and, to
persuade him to stay, he played on these sensitive areas, his
generosity and his patriotism, suggesting to him how much nobler it
would be for him to continue to serve in the unhappy army of Italy
rather than go to the Rhine. He said that he would take the
responsibility for the failure to carry out the orders given to my
father by the government if he would agree to stay. My father,
beguiled by these speeches and not wishing to leave the new
commander in a mess, consented to remain with him. He did not doubt
that his chief-of-staff, Col. Ménard, his friend, would also give up
the idea of going to the Rhine; but this was not to be. Ménard stuck
to the order he had been given, although he was assured that it would
be cancelled if he wished. My father felt very badly about this
desertion. Ménard hurried off to Paris, where he took the job of
chief-of-staff to general Lefebvre.

My father went to Genoa, where he took command of the three
divisions which composed the right wing of the army. Despite all the
shortages, the winter carnival was quite gay in the town, the
Italians being so pleasure-loving! We were lodged in the Centurione
Palace, where we spent the end of the winter 1799-1800. My father
had left Spire at Nice with the greater part of his baggage. He now
took on Col. Sacleux as his chief-of-staff, an admirable man, a good
soldier, with a very pleasant personality, if somewhat solemn and
serious-minded. He had as his secretary a young man by the name of
Colindo, the son of a banker, Signor Trepano of Parma, whom he had
picked up after a series of adventures too long to relate here, who
became my very good friend.

Early in the spring of 1800, my father was told that General
Masséna intended to give the command of the right wing to General
Soult, who had just arrived, and was much my father's junior, and he
was ordered to go back to Savona and head his old division, the
third. My father obeyed, though his pride was hurt by this new
posting.

Chap. 11.

A serious situation was developing in Italy. Masséna had received
some reinforcements; he had established a little order in his army,
and the campaign of 1800, which led to the memorable siege of Genoa
and the battle of Marengo, was about to begin.

The snows which covered the mountains separating the two
armies having melted, the Austrians attacked us, and their first
efforts were directed upon my father's division, the third, stationed
at the right of the French line, which they wished to separate from
the centre and the left by driving them back from Savona to Genoa.

As soon as hostilities commenced, my father and Col. Sacleux sent
all the non-combatants to Genoa; Colindo was among them. As for me, I
was thoroughly enjoying myself, exhilarated as I was by the sight
of marching troops, the noisy movements of artillery and the
excitement of a young soldier at the prospect of action. I was far
from suspecting that this war would become so terrible and would cost
me so dear.

My father's division, fiercely attacked by greatly superior
forces, defended for two days positions at Cadibone and Montenotte,
but eventually, seeing themselves on the point of being outflanked,
they had to retire to Voltri, and from there to Genoa, where they
shut themselves in, together with the two other divisions of the
right wing.

I had heard all the well-informed generals deploring the
circumstances which forced our separation from the centre and the
left, but I had at that time so little understanding of the
principles of warfare that I took no notice. I understood well
enough that we had been defeated, but as I personally had overcome,
before Montenotte, an officer of Burco's Hussars, and taking the
plume from his shako, had fastened it proudly to the head-band of my
bridle, it seemed to me that I was like a knight of the middle-ages
returning laden with the spoils of the infidel.

My childish vanity was soon crushed by a dreadful event. During
the retreat, and at a moment when my father was giving me an order to
take, he was hit by a bullet in the left leg, which had been wounded
once before, in the army of the Pyrenees. The injury was serious,
and my father would have fallen from his horse if he had not leaned
on me. I took him out of the battle area. His wound was dressed. I
shed tears as I saw his blood flow, but he tried to calm me, saying
that a soldier should have more courage. My father was carried to
the Centurione Palace in Genoa, where he had lived during the
preceding winter. Our three divisions having entered Genoa, the
Austrians blockaded it by land, and the English by sea.

I can hardly bring myself to describe the sufferings of the
garrison and the population of Genoa during the two months for which
this siege lasted. Famine, fighting and an epidemic of typhus did
immense damage. The garrison lost ten thousand men out of sixteen
thousand, and there were collected from the streets, every day, seven
or eight hundred of the bodies of the inhabitants, of every age, sex,
and condition, which were taken behind the church of Carignan to an
immense pit filled with quick-lime. The number of victims rose to
more than thirty thousand.

For you to understand just how badly the lack of food was felt by
the inhabitants, I should explain that the ancient rulers of Genoa,
in order to control the populace, had from time immemorial exercised
a monopoly over grain, flour and bread, which was operated by a vast
establishment protected by cannons and guarded by soldiers, so that
when the Doge or the Senate wished to prevent or put down a revolt,
they closed the state ovens and reduced the people to starvation. 
Although by this time the constitution of Genoa had been greatly
modified and the aristocracy now had very little influence, there
was not, however a single private bakery, and the old system of
making bread in the public ovens was still in operation. Now, these
public bakeries, which normally provided for a population of a
hundred and twenty thousand souls, were closed for forty-five days
out of the sixty for which the siege lasted. Neither rich nor poor
could buy bread. The little in the way of dried vegetables and rice
which was in the shops had been bought up at the beginning of the
siege at greatly inflated prices. The troops alone were given a
small ration of a quarter of a pound of horse flesh and a quarter of
a pound of what was called bread. This was a horrible mixture of
various flours, bran, starch, chalk, linseed, oatmeal, rancid nuts
and other evil substances. General Thibauld in his diary of the
siege described as "Turf mixed with oil."

For forty five days neither bread nor meat was on sale to the public. The richest were able (at the start the siege only,) to buy some dried cod, figs and some other dried goods such as sugar. There was never any shortage of wine, oil and salt, but what use are they without solid food? All the dogs and cats in the town were eaten. A rat could fetch a high price! In the end the starvation became so appalling that when the French troops made a sortie, the inhabitants would follow them in a crowd out of the gates, and rich and poor, women, children and the old would start collecting grass, nettles, and leaves, which they would then cook with some salt. The Genoese government mowed the grass which grew on the ramparts, which was then cooked in the public squares and distributed to the wretched invalids, who had not the strength to go and find for themselves and prepare this crude dish. Even the soldiers cooked nettles and all sorts of herbage with their horse flesh. The richest and most distinguished families in the town envied them this meat, disgusting as it was, for the shortage of fodder had made nearly all the horses sick and even the flesh of those dying of disease was
distributed.

During the latter part of the siege, the desperation of the people
was something to fear. There were cries that, as in 1756 their
fathers had massacred an Austrian army, they should now try to get
rid of the French army in the same way; and that it was better to die
fighting than to starve to death, after watching their wives and
children perish. These threats of revolt were made more serious by
the fact that if they were carried out, the English by sea and the
Austrians by land would have rushed to join their efforts to those of
the insurgents, and would have overwhelmed us.

Amid such dangers and calamities of all sorts, Masséna remained
immovable and calm, and to prevent any attempt at an uprising, he
issued a proclamation that French troops had orders to open fire on
any gathering of more than four people. Regiments camped in the
squares and the principal streets. The avenues were occupied by
cannon loaded with grape-shot. It being impossible for them to come
together, the Genoese were unable to revolt.

It may seem surprising that Masséna was so determined to hold on
to a place where he could not feed the inhabitants and could scarcely
maintain his own troops; but Genoa was, at that time, of great
importance. Our army had been cut in two. The centre and the left
wing had retired behind the Var. As long as Masséna occupied Genoa,
he kept part of the Austrian army occupied in besieging him and
prevented them from employing all their forces against Provence.

Masséna knew also that the First Consul was assembling at Dijon,
Lyon, and Geneva, an army of reserve, with which he proposed to cross
the Alps by the St. Bernard pass, to enter Italy and to surprise the
Austrians by falling on their rear while they were directing their
efforts at taking Genoa. We therefore had the greatest interest in
holding the town for as long as possible. These were the orders of
the First Consul, and were subsequently justified by events.

To return to the siege. When he heard that my father had been
brought to Genoa, Colindo Trepano hurried to his bedside, and it was
there that we met once more. He helped me most tenderly to care for
my father, for which I am even more beholden to him because, in the
midst of these calamities my father had no one about him. All his
staff officers had been ordered to go and attend the
commander-in-chief; soon rations were refused to our servants, who
were forced to go and take up a musket and line up with the
combatants to have a right to the miserable ration which was
distributed to the soldiers. No exception was made, apart from a young
valet, named Oudin, and a young stable-lad, who looked after the
horses; but Oudin deserted us as soon as he knew that my father had
typhus.

My father fell ill with this dreadful disease, and at a time when
he was in the greatest need of care, there was no one with him except
me, Colindo and the stable lad Bastide. We did our best to follow
the doctor's instructions, we hardly slept, being endlessly busy
massaging my father with camphorated oil and changing his bedclothes
and linen.

My father could take no nourishment except soup and I had nothing
with which to make it but rotten horse-meat. My heart was breaking.

Providence sent us some help. The huge buildings of the public
ovens were next to the walls of the palace where we were living. The
terraces were almost touching. It was on the immense terraces of the
public ovens that the crushing and mixing took place of all sorts of
chicken food which was added to the rotten flour to make the
garrison's bread. The stable lad Bastide had noticed that when the
workmen of the bakery left the terraces, they were invaded by horde
of pigeons who had their nests in the various church towers of the
town, and were in the habit of coming to pick up the small amounts of
grain which had spilled onto the flagstones. Bastide, who was a very
clever lad, crossed the narrow space which separated the terraces,
and on that of the public ovens he set up snares and other devices
with which he captured pigeons which we used to make soup for my
father, who found it excellent, compared to that made from horse.

To the horrors of famine and typhus were added those of a
merciless and unceasing war, for the French troops fought all day on
land against the Austrians, and when nightfall put an end to the
Austrian assaults, the English, Turkish, and Neapolitan fleets, which
were protected by darkness from the port's cannons and the batteries
on the coast, drew close to the town, into which they hurled a great
number of bombs which did fearful damage.

The noise of the guns and the cries of the wounded and dying
reached my father and greatly disturbed him. He lamented his
inability to place himself at the head of the men of his division. 
This state of mind worsened his condition. He became more gravely
ill from day to day, and progressively weaker. Colindo and I did not
leave him for a moment. Eventually, one night when I was on my knees
by his bedside, sponging his wound, he spoke to me, perfectly
lucidly, and placed his hand caressingly on my head, saying, "Poor
child, what will happen to him, alone and without support in the
horrors of this terrible siege?" Then he mumbled some words, among
which I could distinguish the name of my mother, dropped his arms and
closed his eyes...

Although very young and without much length of service, I had seen
many dead on various battlefields, and above all on the streets of
Genoa; but they had fallen in the open, still in their clothes, which
gave them a very different appearance to someone who had died in bed.
I had never witnessed this last sad spectacle and I believed that my
father had fallen asleep. Colindo knew the truth but had not the
heart to tell me, so I was not aware of my error until some time
later, when M. Lachèze arrived and I saw him pull the sheet over my
father's face, saying, "This is a dreadful loss for his family and
friends". Only then did I understand that my father was dead.

My grief was so heartbroken that it touched even General Masséna,
a man not easily moved, particularly in the present situation when
he had need of such resolution. The critical position in which he
found himself drove him to behave toward me in a way which I thought
atrocious, although now I would do the same in the same
circumstances.

To avoid anything that could lower the morale of the troops,
Masséna had forbidden any funeral ceremonies, and as he knew that I
had been unwilling to desert the mortal remains of my much-loved
father, and thought it was my intention to go with him to his
graveside, he feared that his troops might be adversely affected by
the sight of a young officer, scarcely more than a boy, following, in
tears, his father's bier. So he came the next day before dawn to
the room where my father lay, and taking me by the hand, he led me 
under some pretext or other to a distant room, while, on his orders,
twelve Grenadiers, accompanied only by one officer and Col. Sacleux,
took the body in silence, and placed it in a provisional grave on
the rampart facing the sea. It was only after this mournful
ceremony was over that General Masséna told me of it and explained
his motives for this decision. I was overcome by misery. It seemed
to me that I had lost my poor father for a second time; that he had
been deprived of my last services. My protests were in vain and
there was nothing I could do but go and pray by my father's grave. I
did not know where it was, but Colindo had followed the burial party,
and he led me there. This good young man gave me the most touching
evidences of sympathy, and this at a time when everyone thought only
of themselves.

Nearly all the officers of my father's staff had been killed or
carried off by typhus. Out of the eleven which we were at the start
of the campaign, there remained only two; the commandant R*** and me!
But R*** was interested only in himself, and instead of offering
support to his general's son, he lived alone in the town. M. Lachèze
abandoned me also. Only the good Col. Sacleux showed any interest in
me, but having been given the command of a brigade, he was constantly
outside the walls combatting the enemy. I stayed alone in the huge
Centurione Palace with Colindo, Bastide, and the ancient concierge.

A week had scarcely passed since my father's death when General
Masséna, who needed a large number of officers in attendance because
some were killed or wounded almost every day, ordered me to come and
serve as aide-de-camp, as did R*** and all the officers on the staff
of those generals who were dead or unable to mount a horse. I
obeyed. I followed the general all day in battle, and when I was not
detained at headquarters, I went back to the Palace, and at
nightfall, Colindo and I, passing among the dying and the dead bodies
of men, women, and children which littered the streets, went to pray
at my father's tomb.

The famine in the town continued to worsen. An order went out
forbidding any officer from having more than one horse, the rest were
to be butchered. There were several of my father's left and I was
most unhappy at the thought of these poor beasts being killed. I
managed to save their lives by proposing that I should give them to
officers of the general staff in exchange for their worn out mounts,
which I then sent to the butchery. These horses were later paid for
by the state, on production of an order for their delivery. I have
kept one of these orders as a curiosity; it bears the signature of
General Oudinot, Masséna's chief-of-staff.

The cruel loss which I had just suffered, the position in which I
found myself, and the sight of the truly horrible scenes in which I
was involved every day, taught me more in a short time than I would
have learned in a number of happier years. I realised that the
starvation and disaster of the siege had made egoists of all those
who a few months before had been smothering my father with attention.

I had to find within myself the courage and resource not only for my
own needs but to look after Colindo and Bastide. The most pressing
requirement was to find something for them to eat, since they were
given no food from the army stores. I had, it is true, as an
officer, two rations of horse meat and two rations of bread, but all
this added together did not amount to more than a pounds weight of
very bad food, and we were three! We very rarely caught pigeons now,
for their numbers had infinitely diminished.

In my position as aide-de-camp to the commander-in- chief, I was
entitled to a place at his table, where once a day was served some
bread, some roast horse and some chick peas; but I was so embittered
at General Masséna having deprived me of the sad consolation of
attending my father's burial, that I could not bring myself to sit
down at his table, although all my comrades were there and a place
was reserved for me. But at last the wish to help my two unfortunate
companions decided me to go and eat with the commander-in-chief. From
then on Colindo and Bastide had each a quarter of a pound of horse
meat and the same amount of bread. As for me, I did not have enough
to eat, for the portions served at the general's table were
exceedingly small, and I was worked hard. Often I had to lie on the
ground to stop myself from fainting.

Providence came once more to our aid. Bastide had been born in
the region of Cantal, and he had met, the previous winter, another
Auvergnian whom he knew, and who was living in Genoa where he had
a small business. Bastide went to visit this friend, and was
surprised, on entering the house, to smell the odour which floats
around a grocer's shop. Bastide remarked on this and asked his
friend if he had some food. His friend admitted that he had, and
begged Bastide to keep this a secret, since all food found in private
hands was confiscated and taken to the army stores. The shrewd
Bastide then offered to arrange the purchase of any surplus
provisions by someone who would pay cash and would keep the secret
inviolate. He came to tell me of his discovery. My father had left
me some thousands of francs, so I bought, and brought back to our
dwelling at night, a quantity of dried cod, cheese, figs, sugar,
chocolate etc. All of which was extremely expensive, and the
Auvergnian had most of my money. However I was happy to pay whatever
he asked, for I heard daily at general headquarters suggestions that
the siege would continue and the famine get worse. Sadly, this in
fact happened. My joy at having procured some food was increased by
the thought that I had thereby saved the life of my friend Colindo,
who, without it, would have assuredly died of starvation, for he knew
no one in the army except me and Col. Sacleux, who was shortly to be
struck down by a dreadful misfortune.

Masséna, attacked on all sides, seeing his troops worn down by
continual battle and famine, forced to hold down a large population,
driven to despair by hunger, found himself in a most critical
position, and believed that to maintain good order in the army he
needed to impose iron discipline. So any officer who did not
execute his orders immediately was dismissed, under the power which
the law gave at that time to the commander-in-chief.

Several examples of this kind had already been made when, during
a sortie which we had pushed forward some six leagues from the town,
the brigade commanded by Col. Sacleux was not in position at the
time ordered in a valley where it was meant to block the passage of
the Austrians, who thus escaped.

The commander-in-chief, furious at seeing his plans come to
nothing, dismissed poor Col. Sacleux by publishing his dismissal in
an order of the day. Sacleux may well not have understood what was
expected of him, but he was a very brave man. Assuredly he would
have blown his brains out, had he not been determined to restore his
honour. He took up a musket and joined the ranks as a private
soldier! He came to see us one day, Colindo and I were sore at heart
to see this excellent man dressed as a simple infantryman. We said
our good-byes to Sacleux who, after the surrender of the town, was
restored to his rank of colonel at the request of Masséna himself,
who had been impressed by Sacleux's courage. But the following
year, when peace had been made in Europe, Sacleux, perhaps wishing to
rid himself completely of the stigma with which he had been so
unjustly branded, asked to be posted to the war in Santa-Dominica,
where he was killed at the moment when he was about to be promoted
to brigadier-general! There are men who, in spite of their
merits, have a cruel destiny; of which he was an example.

Chap. 12.

I shall discuss only briefly the conduct of the siege or
blockade which we sustained. The fortifications of Genoa consisted
at that time of a plain wall, flanked by towers; but what made the
place well suited for defence was the fact that it is surrounded at a
short distance by mountains, the summits and flanks of which are
dotted with forts and strong-points. The Austrians continually
attacked these positions. When they took one, we went to retake it,
and the next day they came to take it again. If they managed to do
so, we went to chase them out once more. There was an endless
shuttling back and forth, with varying results, but in the end, we
remained in control of the terrain. These encounters were often very
fierce. In one of them, General Soult, who was General Masséna's
right hand man, was climbing up Monte Corona at the head of his men
to retake a fort of that name, which we had lost the day before, when
his knee was struck by a bullet at a moment when the enemy, who
greatly outnumbered his party, were running down from the top of the
mountain. It was impossible with the few troops we had at this point
to resist the avalanche, and a retreat was called for. The soldiers
carried General Soult for some way, on their muskets, but the
intolerable pain which he suffered decided them that he should be
left at the foot of a tree, where his brother and one of his
aides-de-camp stayed with him to protect him from being attacked by
the first enemy troops to arrive. Luckily there were among these
some officers who had much respect for their illustrious prisoner.

The capture of General Soult having encouraged the Austrians, they
pushed us back to the city wall, which they were preparing to attack 
when a heavy storm darkened the blue sky, which we had had since the
beginning of the siege. The rain fell in torrents. The Austrians
halted and most of them sought shelter in the blockhouses or under
the trees. Then General Masséna, one of whose principal gifts was
the ability to turn to advantage the unforeseen incidents of warfare,
addressed his men, rekindled their spirit, and having reinforced them
with some troops from the town, he ordered them to fix bayonets and
led them, at the height of the storm, against the erstwhile
victorious Austrians who, taken by surprise, retired in disorder.
Masséna pursued them with such effect that he cut off some three
thousand Grenadiers, who laid down their arms.

This was not the first time that we had taken numerous
prisoners, for the total of those we had captured since the beginning
of the siege amounted to more than eight thousand; but having no
food for them, Masséna had always sent them back, on the condition
that they would not be used against us for a period of six months. 
Although the officers held religiously to their promise, the wretched
soldiers, who went back to the Austrian camp ignorant of the
undertaking that their leaders had made on their behalf, were
transferred to other regiments and forced to fight against us once
more. If they fell again into our hands, something that often
happened, they were once more sent back and transferred anew; so that
there were very many of these men who, on their own admission, had
been captured four or five times. Masséna, angered at the lack of
good faith on the part of the Austrian generals, decided that this
time he would retain both officers and men of the three thousand
Grenadiers whom he had captured; and so that the duty of guarding
them would not fall on his troops, he had the unfortunate prisoners
loaded into floating hulks moored in the middle of the harbour with
the guns of the harbour mole aimed at them. He then sent an envoy to
General Ott, who commanded the Austrian troops before Genoa, to
reproach him for his failure to keep his word, and to warn him that
he did not consider himself bound to give the prisoners more than
half the ration of the French soldier; but that he would agree to an
arrangement which the Austrians might make with the British, whereby
vessels might bring, every day, food for the prisoners, and not leave
until they had seen it eaten, so that it could not be thought that
Masséna was using this pretext to bring in food for his own men. The
Austrian general who may have hoped that a refusal would compel
Masséna to send back the three thousand soldiers, whom he probably
intended to use again, turned down this philanthropic proposal, and
Masséna then carried out his threat.

The French ration was composed of a quarter of a pound of
disgusting bread and an equal amount of horse flesh; the prisoners
were given only half this amount! This was fifteen days before the
end of the siege. For fifteen days, these poor devils remained on
this regime!. Every two or three days Messéna renewed his offer to
the enemy general; he never accepted, perhaps out of obstinacy, or
perhaps because the English admiral, Lord Kieth, was unwilling to
employ his long-boats for fear, it is said, that they would bring
typhus back to the fleet. However that may be, the wretched
Austrians were left howling with rage and hunger in their floating
prison. It was truly appalling! In the end, having eaten their boots
and packs, and perhaps some dead bodies, they nearly all died of
starvation! There were hardly more than seven or eight hundred left
when the place was surrendered to our enemies. The Austrian
soldiers, when they entered the town, hurried to the harbour and gave
food to their compatriots with so little caution that many of them
died as a result.

I have described this horrible episode, firstly as an example of
the sort of ghastly event which war brings in its train, but
principally to brand with shame the conduct and lack of good faith of
the Austrian general, who forced soldiers who had been captured and
released on parole, to take up arms against us once more, although he
had promised to send them back to Germany.

In the course of the fighting which took place during the siege, I
ran into a number of dangers but I shall limit myself to mentioning
two of the more serious.

I have already said that the Austrians and the English took it in
turns to keep us constantly in action. The first attacked us at
dawn, on the landward side, and we fought them all day; at night,
Lord Kieth's fleet would begin its bombardment, and try, under cover
of darkness, to seize the harbour; which forced the garrison to keep
a keen look-out on the seaward side, and prevented it from having any
rest or relaxation. Now, one night, when the bombardment was more
violent than usual, the commander-in-chief was warned that the light
of Bengal flares burning on the beach had disclosed numerous boat
loads of English soldiers heading for the harbour breakwater. 
Masséna, his staff, and the squadron of guides which went everywhere
with him, immediately mounted their horses. We were about a
hundred and fifty to two hundred horsemen when, passing through a
little square called Campetto, the general stopped to speak to an
officer who was returning from the harbour. Someone shouted "Look
out for bombs!" And at that moment, one fell onto the crowded square.

I and several others had pushed our horses under a balcony which
overhung the door of an hotel, and it was on this balcony that the
bomb fell. It reduced the balcony to rubble, and bounced onto the
road, where it exploded with a fearful bang in the middle of the
square, which was lit for an instant by its malevolent light, after
which there was complete darkness. One expected many casualties. 
There was the most profound silence, which was broken by the voice of
General Masséna, asking if anyone was hurt. There was no reply, for
by some miracle, not one of the horses or men had been hit by the
flying fragments. As for those who, like me, had been under the
balcony, we were covered with dust and bits of building material, but
nobody was injured.

I have said that the English bombarded us only at night. However,
one day, when they were celebrating some occasion or other, their
ships, dressed overall, approached the town in broad daylight, and
amused themselves by hurling at us a large number of projectiles. 
Those of our batteries which were in the best position to reply to
this fire, were located near the breakwater on a big bastion in the
form of a tower, known as the Lanterne. The general ordered me to
take a message to the officer in charge of this battery, instructing
him to direct all his efforts on an English brig, which had
insolently anchored a short distance from the Lanterne. Our gunners
fired with such accuracy that one of our large bombs fell on the
English brig, piercing it from deck to keel so that it sank almost
immediately. This so infuriated the English admiral that he had all
his guns trained on the Lanterne, on which they now opened a violent
fire. My mission being completed, I should have returned to Masséna;
but it is rightly said that young soldiers, not recognising danger,
confront it more coolly than those with more experience. The
spectacle of which I was a witness, I found very interesting. The
platform of the Lanterne was floored with flagstones and was the size
of a small courtyard. It was equipped with twelve cannons on enormous
wooden mountings. Although it may be very difficult for ship at sea
to aim its fire with sufficient accuracy to hit such a small target
as was the platform of the Lanterne, the English managed to land
several bombs there. As these bombs descended, the gunners took
shelter behind or underneath the massive timbers of the gun
mountings. I did the same; but this shelter was not entirely safe,
because the flagstones presented a great resistance to the bombs,
which, being unable to bury themselves, rolled unpredictably about
the platform in all directions, and the fragments from their explosion
could pass under or behind the mountings. It was, therefore, absurd
to stay there when, like me, one was not obliged to do so. But I
experienced a fearful pleasure, if one can describe it thus, in
running here and there with the gunners whenever a bomb fell, and
emerging with them as soon as the fragments from its explosion had
settled. It was a game which could have cost me dear. One gunner had
his legs broken, others were wounded by bomb fragments, lumps of
metal which did terrible damage to anything they hit. One of them
sliced through the thick timber baulk of a mounting behind which I
was sheltering. However, I remained on the platform until
Col. Mouton, who later became Marshal the Comte de Lobeau, and who,
having served under my father, took an interest in me, while passing,
caught sight of me. He came over to the Lanterne and ordered me
sharply to come down and return to my post beside General Masséna. He
added, "You are still very young, but you should realise that, in
war, it is stupid to expose yourself to needless danger. Would you be
any better off if you had a leg smashed for no good reason?"

I never forgot this lesson, and I have often thought of the
difference it would have made to my life, if I had lost a leg at the
age of seventeen.

Chap. 13.

The courage and tenacity with which Masséna had defended
Genoa would have very important results. Major Franceschi, sent by
Masséna to contact the First Consul, had managed to slip through the
enemy fleet at night, both in going and coming. On arriving back in
Genoa he said that he had left Bonaparte descending the St. Bernard
at the head of the army of reserve. Field-marshal Mélas was so
convinced of the impossibility of bringing an army across the Alps,
that while part of his force, under General Ott was blockading us, he
had gone with the remainder fifty leagues away, to attack General
Suchet on the Var. This gave the First Consul the opportunity to
enter Italy without resistance, so that the army of reserve had
reached Milan before the Austrians had ceased to regard its existence
as imaginary. The First Consul, once in Italy, would have liked to go
straight away to the aid of the town's brave garrison, but to do that
it was necessary for him to unite all the elements of his force, such
as the artillery and military supplies, whose passage across the Alps
had proved extremely difficult. This delay gave Marshal Mélas the
time to hurry with his main force from Nice in order to oppose
Bonaparte, who was then unable to continue his march towards Genoa
without defeating the Austrian army.

While Bonaparte and Mélas were engaged in marches and
countermarches in preparation for a battle which would decide the
destiny of France and Italy, the garrison of Genoa found itself
reduced to its last extremity. The typhus epidemic was raging. The
hospitals had become ghastly charnel houses; starvation was at its
worst. Nearly all the horses had been eaten, and though for a long
time the soldiers had had no more than half a pound of rotten food
daily, the distribution for the following day was not assured. There
was absolutely nothing left when, on the 15th Prairial Masséna
gathered all his generals and colonels together and announced that he
had decided to attempt a breakout with those remaining men who were
fit for duty, to try to reach Livorno; but his officers declared
unanimously that the troops were no longer in a state to engage in
combat, or even a simple march, unless they were given sufficient
food to restore their strength, and the stores were completely empty!
General Masséna then considered that, having carried out the orders
of the First Consul and facilitated his entry into Italy, that it was
his duty to save the remains of a garrison which had fought so
valiantly, and which it was in the country's interest to preserve. He
therefore resolved to treat for the evacuation of the place, for he
would not allow the word capitulation to be uttered.
The English admiral and General Ott had, for more than a month,
been making proposals for a parley, which Masséna had always turned
down; but now, compelled by circumstance, he told them that he would
accept. The conference took place in the little chapel which is
situated in the middle of the bridge of Conegliano, and which is, as
a result, between the sea and the French and Austrian lines. The
French, English, and Austrian staffs occupied each end of the bridge. 
I was present at this most interesting event.

The foreign generals treated Masséna with much respect and
consideration, and although he demanded favourable conditions,
Admiral Kieth said more than once that the defense had been so
heroic that they did not wish to refuse them. It was then agreed
that the garrison would not be made prisoners, that they could retain
their weapons and could go to Nice, and that having reached there
they would be free to engage in further hostilities.

Masséna, who realised how important it was that the First
Consul should not be led into making any false move because of his
anxiety to go to the aid of Genoa, asked that the negotiations should
permit the safe passage of two officers through the Austrian lines,
whom he proposed to send to Bonaparte to inform him of the evacuation
of the town by the French. General Ott opposed this because he
intended to leave with some twenty-five thousand men of the
blockading force to go and join Field-marshal Mélas, and he did not
want these French officers to warn General Bonaparte of his
movements. But Admiral Kieth overruled this objection. The treaty
was about to be signed when, from far away, in the midst of the
mountains, came the distant sound of gunfire. Masséna held up his
pen, saying, "That is the First Consul, who has arrived with his
army." The foreign commanders were much taken aback, but after a
long pause it was realised that the sound was that of thunder, and
Masséna appended his signature.

It is to be regretted that the garrison and its commander were
deprived of the fame which would have been theirs if they had been
able to hold Genoa until the arrival of Bonaparte; and furthermore,
Masséna would have liked to hold out for a few more days, to delay
the departure of General Ott's men to join in the battle, which was
inevitable, between the First Consul and Field-marshal Mélas. In the
event, General Ott was unable to join the main Austrian army until
the day after the battle of Marengo, the result of which might have
been very different if the Austrians, whom we had great difficulty in
overcoming, had had twenty-five thousand more men with which to
oppose us. The Austrians took possession of Genoa on the 16th
Prairial(May) after a siege which had lasted two whole months.

Masséna, as has been said, considered it so important that the
First Consul was informed immediately about the situation that he had
demanded a safe conduct for two aides-de-camp, so that if any thing
untoward befell one of them, the other could carry his despatch. As
it would be useful if an officer going on such a mission spoke
Italian, Masséna chose a Major Graziani, an Italian who was in the
French service, but being a most suspicious man, Masséna feared that
a foreigner might be corrupted by the Austrians and delay his
journey, so he sent me to make sure that he made all possible haste. 
This precaution was unnecessary as Major Graziani was a man of
probity who knew the urgency of his mission.

On the 16th Prairial we departed from Genoa where I left Colindo,
whom I expected to collect in a few days time, as we knew that the
First Consul's army was not very far away. Major Graziani and I
reached it the next day at Milan.

General Bonaparte spoke to me with sympathy about the loss which I
had suffered, and promised that he would be a father to me if I
behaved myself well, a promise which he kept. He asked us endless
questions about the events which had occurred in Genoa, and about the
strength and movements of the Austrian forces we had come through to
reach Milan; he kept us by him, and had horses provided for us from
his stable, since we had travelled on post mules.

We followed the First Consul to Montebello and then to the
battlefield of Marengo, where we were employed to carry his orders. 
I shall not go into any details about this battle, where I ran into
no danger; one knows that we were on the brink of defeat, and might
have fallen if General Ott's men had arrived in time to take part in
the action. The First Consul, who feared that he might see them
appear at any moment, was very anxious, and did not relax until our
cavalry and the infantry of General Desaix, of whose death he was
still unaware, had ensured victory by overwhelming the Grenadiers of
General Zach. Seeing that the horse which I was riding was slightly
wounded on a leg, he took me by the ear, and said, laughing, "I lend
you my horses, and look what happens to them!" Major Graziani having
died in 1812, I am the only French officer who was present at the
siege of Genoa and the battle of Marengo.

After this memorable affair, I went back to Genoa, which the
Austrians had left as a result of our victory at Marengo. There I
rejoined Colindo and Major R***. I visited my father's grave, then
we embarked on a French brig, which in twenty-four hours carried us
to Nice. Some days later, a ship from Leghorn brought Colindo's
mother, who had come in search of her son. This fine young man and I
had come through some very rough times together, which had strengthened
the friendship between us, but our paths were divergent and we had
to part, albeit with much regret.

I have said earlier, that about the middle of the siege,
Franceschi, carrying despatches from General Masséna to the First
Consul, had reached France by passing through the enemy fleet at
night. He took with him the news of my father's death. My mother
had thereupon nominated a council of guardians, who sent to the aged
Spire, who was at Nice with the coach and my father's baggage, an
order to sell everything and return to Paris, which he then did. 
There was now nothing to detain me on the banks of the Var, and I was
in a hurry to rejoin my dear mother; but this was not so easy; public
coaches were, at the time, very scarce; the one that ran from Nice to
Lyon went only every second day and was booked up for several weeks
by sick or wounded officers, coming, like me, from Genoa.

To overcome this difficulty, Major R***, two colonels, a dozen
officers and I decided to form a group to go to Grenoble on foot,
crossing the foothills of the Alps by way of Grasse, Sisteron, Digne
and Gap. Mules would carry our small amount of baggage, which would
allow us to cover eight to ten leagues every day. Bastide was with me
and was a great help to me, for I was not accustomed to making such
long journeys on foot, and it was very hot. After eight days of very
difficult walking, we reached Grenoble, from where we were able to
take coaches to Lyon. It was with sorrow that I saw once more the
town and the hotel where I had stayed with my father in happier
times. I longed for and yet dreaded the reunion with my mother and
my brothers. I fancied that they would ask me to account for what I
had done with her husband and their father! I was returning alone,
and had left him in his grave in a foreign land! I was very unhappy
and had need of a friend who would understand and share my grief,
while Major R***, happy, after so much privation, to enjoy once more,
abundance and good living, was madly jolly, which I found most
wounding; so I decided to leave for Paris without him; but he
claimed, now that I had no need of him, that it was his duty to
deliver me to the arms of my mother, and I was forced to put up with
his company as far as Paris, to where we went by mail coach.

There are scenes which are perhaps better left to the
imagination, so I shall not attempt to describe my first
heartbreaking meeting with my widowed mother and my brothers. You can
picture it for yourselves.

My mother had a rather pretty country house at Carrière, near
the forest of Saint-Germain. I spent two months there with her, my
uncle Canrobert, who had returned from emigration, and an old knight
of Malta, M. d'Estresse, a friend of my late father. Adolphe was not in
Paris, he was in Rennes with Bernadotte, the commander-in-chief of
the army of the west, but my younger brothers and M. Gault came to see
us from time to time. In spite of the kindness and shows of
affection which were lavished on me, I fell into a state of sombre
melancholy, and my health deteriorated. I had suffered so much,
physically and mentally! I became incapable of doing any work.
Reading which I had always loved became insupportable. I spent the
greater part of the day alone in the forest, where I lay in the
shade absorbed in my sorrowful reflections. In the evenings, I
accompanied my mother, my uncle, and the old knight on their usual
walk along the bank of the Seine; but I took very little part in the
conversation, and hid from them my sad thoughts, which revolved
always about my poor father, dying for want of proper care. Although
my condition alarmed my mother, Canrobert, and M. d'Estresse, they had
the good sense not to make matters worse by any remarks which would
have only irritated a sick mind, but they sought gradually to chase
away the unhappy memories which were so affecting me by bringing
forward the holidays of my two younger brothers, who came to live
with us in the country. The presence of these two children, whom I
dearly loved, eased my mind of its sorrows, by the care I took to
make their stay at Carrière a happy one. I took them to Versailles,
to Maisons and to Marly, and their childish happiness slowly brought
back to life my spirits which had been so cruelly crushed by
misfortune. Who could have thought that these two children, so
lovely and full of life would soon be no more?

Chap. 14.

The end of the autumn of 1800 was approaching; my mother went back
to Paris, my young brothers went back to school, and I was ordered to
join Bernadotte at Rennes.

Bernadotte had been my father's best friend, and my father had
helped him in various ways on many occasions. In recognition of
the debt owed to my family, he had written to me saying that he had
reserved a place for me as his aide-de-camp. I received this letter
at Nice when I returned from Genoa, and on the strength of it, I
refused an offer from General Masséna to take me on as a permanent
aide-de-camp, and to allow me to spend several months with my mother
before joining him and the army of Italy.

My father had arranged that my brother Adolphe should continue his
studies in order to enter the polytechnic; so he was not a soldier
when my father died; but on hearing this sad news, he rebelled at the
thought that his younger brother was already an officer, and had been
in action, while he was still on a school bench. He gave up the
studies required for the technical arms, and opted to join the
infantry instead, which allowed him to leave school.

He was presented with a good opportunity. The government had
ordered a new regiment to be raised in the department of the Seine. 
The officers for this regiment were to be selected by General
Lefebvre, who, as you know, had replaced my father in command of the
Paris division. General Lefebvre was only too pleased to do
something for the son of one of his old companions who had died in
the service of his country; he therefore awarded my brother the rank
of sous-lieutenant in this new unit. So far, so good! But instead of
going to join his company, and without waiting for my return from
Genoa, Adolphe hurried off to General Bernadotte, who, without
further ado, handed the vacant post to the first brother to arrive,
as if it was the prize in a race! So when I went to join the general
staff at Rennes, I learned that my brother had been gazetted as
permanent aide-de-camp, and I was only a supernumerary, that is to
say temporary. I was very disappointed, because, had I expected
this, I would have accepted the proposal made by General Masséna. 
But this opportunity had now passed. It was in vain that General
Bernadotte assured me that he would obtain an increase in the
establishment of his aides-de-camp, I did not think this likely, and
was convinced that I would soon be moved elsewhere.

Bernadotte's staff was made up of officers who nearly all reached
senior positions; four were already colonels. The most outstanding
was, undoubtedly, Gérard. He was very clever, brave and had a
natural talent for warfare. He was under the command of Marshal
Grouchy at Waterloo, and gave him some sound advice, which could have
led us to victory. Out of the eleven aides-de-camp attached to
Bernadotte's staff, two became marshals, three lieutenant-generals,
four were brigadiers and one was killed in action.

In the winter of 1800, Portugal, backed by the English, had
declared war on Spain, and the French government had resolved to
support the latter. In consequence, troops were sent to Bayonne and
Bordeaux, and the companies of Grenadiers who belonged to various
regiments scattered throughout Brittany and the Vendée were gathered
together at Tours. This corps d'élite was intended to be the nucleus
of the so-called army of Portugal, which Bernadotte was destined to
command. The general had to move his headquarters to Tours; to where
had to be sent all his horses and equipment, as well all that was
required for the officers attached to his service. But the general,
partly to receive his final orders from the First Consul and partly
to take Madame Bernadotte back, had to go to Paris; and as it was
customary in these circumstances during the absence of the general
for the officers of his staff to be permitted to go and take leave of
their families, it was decided that all the permanent aides could go
to Paris, and that the supernumeraries would go to Tours with the
baggage to supervise the servants, pay them every month, arrange
with the supply commission for the distribution of forage, and the
allotment of lodgings for the great number of men and horses. This
disagreeable duty fell to me and my fellow supernumerary Lieutenant
Maurin.

In the depths of winter and the most atrocious weather, we made
on horseback the long eight days journey from Rennes to Tours, where
we had all sorts of difficulties in setting up the headquarters. We
had been told that we would not be there for much more than a
fortnight, but we stayed there, bored stiff, for six weary months,
while our comrades were disporting themselves in the capital. That
was a foretaste of the unpleasant duties which fell to me as a
supernumerary aide-de-camp. So ended the year 1800, during which I
had undergone so much mental and physical suffering.

The town of Tours had many inhabitants, and there were many
diversions; but although I received many invitations I did not accept
any of them. Fortunately my time was fully occupied in looking after
the large collection of men and horses, without which the isolation
in which I lived would have been insupportable. The number of horses
belonging to the commander-in-chief and the officers of his staff
amounted to more than eighty, and all were at my disposal. I rode
two or three every day, and went for some long rides round Tours,
which although solitary, had for me much charm, and gave me gentle
solace.

Chap. 15.

The First Consul now changed his mind about the army of Portugal. 
He gave the command to his brother-in-law, General Leclerc, and kept
General Bernadotte in command of the army of the west. In
consequence, the general staff, which my brother and the other
aides-de-camp had just joined at Tours, was ordered to return to
Brittany and betake itself to Brest, where the commander-in-chief
was to be stationed. It is a long way from Tours to Brest, but the
weather was fair, we were a young crowd, and the trip was great fun. 
I was unable to ride on horseback, because of an accidental injury to
my hindquarters, so I rode in one of the commander-in-chief's
coaches. We found him awaiting us at Brest.

The harbour at Brest held at that time not only a great number
of French vessels, but also the Spanish fleet, commanded by Admiral
Gravina, who was later killed at Trafalgar. When we arrived in Brest,
the two allied fleets were expected to take to Ireland, General
Bernadotte and a large invading force of French and Spanish troops;
but while we awaited this expedition,--which never actually took
place--the presence of so many army and naval officers greatly
animated the town of Brest. The commander-in-chief, the admirals and
several of the generals entertained daily. The troops of the two
nations mingled on the best of terms, and I made the acquaintance of
several Spanish officers.

We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves at Brest, when the
commander-in-chief decided it would be a good idea to move his
headquarters to Rennes, a dismal town, but more in the centre of his
command. We had hardly arrived there when what I had foreseen
happened. The First Consul cut the number of aides-de-camp allotted
to the commander-in-chief. He was allowed only one colonel, five
officers of lower rank and no additional officers. As a result I was
told that I was to be posted to a regiment of light cavalry. I would
have resigned myself to this, if it had been to return to the first
Hussars, where I was known and whose uniform I wore; but it was more
than a year since I had left the regiment, and I had been replaced,
so I was ordered to join the 25th Chasseurs, who had just gone to
Spain and were on the frontier with Portugal around Salamanca and
Zamora. I felt increasingly bitter about the way I had been treated
by General Bernadotte, for without his false promises I would have
been an aide-de-camp to Messéna and regained my place in the 1st
Hussars.

So I was much discontented....But one must obey. Once I had got
over my resentment--which does not last long at that age--I could
not wait to get on the road and leave General Bernadotte, of whom I
thought I had good reason to complain. I had very little money. My
father had often lent money to Bernadotte, in particular when he
bought the estate of Lagrange; but although he knew that, scarcely
recovered from an injury, I was about to cross a large part of France
and all of Spain and, what is more, had to buy a new uniform, he
never offered to advance me a sou; and not for anything in the world
would I have asked him to do so. Very luckily for me my mother had,
at Rennes, an elderly uncle, M. de Verdal of Gruniac, a former major
in the infantry of Ponthièvre, with whom she had spent the first
years of the revolution. This old man was a little eccentric, but
very good-hearted; not only did he advance me the money which I
desperately needed, but he gave it to me out of his own pocket.

Although, at this period, the Chasseurs wore the same dolman as
the Hussars, theirs was green. I was foolish enough to shed a few
tears when I had to discard the Bercheny uniform, and renounce the
name of Hussar to become a Chasseur!

My farewell to General Bernadotte was somewhat cool; however he
gave me letters of introduction to Lucien Bonaparte, our ambassador
at Madrid, and to General Leclerc, our commander in Portugal.

On the day of my departure, all the aides-de-camp joined me in a
farewell luncheon; then I set out with a heavy heart. I arrived at
Nantes after two days of travel, dog tired, with a pain in my side,
and quite sure that I would not be able to stand riding on horseback
the four hundred and fifty leagues which I had to cover to reach the
frontier of Portugal. By chance, however, I met in the house of an
old acquaintance from Sorèze, who lived in Nantes, a Spanish officer
named Don Raphael, who was on his way to join his regimental depot at
Estramadura. We agreed to travel together, and that I would be guide
as far as the Pyrenees, after which he would take over.

We went by stage-coach through the Vendée, where almost all
the market towns and villages still bore the marks of fire although
the civil war had been over for two years. These ruins made a sorry
spectacle. We passed through La Rochelle, Rochefort and Bordeaux.
From Bordeaux to Bayonne we rode in a sort of "Berlin" which never
went at faster than a walking pace over the sands of Landes, so we
often got out and walked alongside until we would stop to rest under
a group of pine trees. Then, sitting in the shade, Don Raphael would
take up his mandolin and sing. In this way we took six days to reach
Bayonne.

Before crossing the Pyrenees, I had to report to the general
commanding Bayonne. His name was General Ducos, an excellent man,
who had served under my father. Out of concern for my safety, he
wished to delay my entry into Spain for a few days, because he had
just heard that a gang of robbers had plundered some travellers not
far from the frontier. Even before the War of Independence and the
Civil Wars, the Spanish character, at once both adventurous and lazy,
had given them a noticeable taste for brigandage, and this taste was
encouraged by the splitting up of the country into several kingdoms
which once formed independent states, each with its own laws, usages, 
and frontiers. Some of these states imposed customs duties, some,
such as Biscay and Navarre, did not; and the result was that the
inhabitants of the customs-free countries constantly tried to smuggle
dutiable goods into those whose frontiers were guarded by lines of
armed and active customs officers. The smugglers, on their part,
had, from time immemorial, formed bands, which employed force when
cunning was insufficient, and whose occupation was not considered in
any way dishonourable by the majority of Spaniards, who saw it as a
just war against the imposition of customs. Preparing their
expeditions, collecting intelligence, posting armed guards, hiding in
the mountains, where they lie about smoking and sleeping, such is the
life of the smugglers, who, as a result of the large profits to be
made from a single operation, can live in comfortable idleness for
several months. However, when the customs officers, with whom they
have frequent skirmishes, have been victorious and confiscated their
goods, these Spanish smugglers, reduced to extremes, think nothing of
becoming highwaymen, a profession which they pursue with a certain
magnanimity, since they never kill travellers, and always leave them
the means to continue their journey. They had just done as much to
an English family, and General Ducos, who wished to spare us the
disagreeable experience of being robbed, had for this reason decided
to delay our departure; but Don Raphael assured him that he knew
enough about the habits of Spanish robbers to be certain that the
safest time to travel in a province was just after a gang had
committed some offence, because they then cleared off and hid for a
while. So general Ducos allowed us to leave.

Draught-horses were at this time unknown in Spain, where all
coaches, even the king's, were drawn by mules. There were no
stage-coaches, and in the post-houses nothing but saddle horses. So
that even the greatest of noblemen, who had their own coaches, were
forced when they travelled to hire harness mules and go by short
stages. The comfortably off took light carriages, which did not go
more than ten leagues a day. The ordinary people attached themselves
to caravanserais of donkey-men, who carried baggage in the same way
as our carters, but no one travelled alone, partly for fear of
robbers, and partly because of the mistrust with which a solitary
traveller was regarded. After our arrival in Bayonne, Don Raphael,
who was now in charge, said to me that as we were not such grandees
that we could hire a coach, nor so poor that we had to join the
donkey-men, there remained only two possibilities, either we rode on
horseback or we took a seat in a carriage. Travelling on horseback,
of which I have done so much, did not seem suitable, as we would have
no means of carrying our baggage, so it was decided that we should go
by carriage.

Don Raphael bargained with an individual who agreed to take us to
Salamanca for 800 francs a head, and to lodge us and feed us on the
way, at his own expense. This was double what a similar journey
would have cost in France, and I had already spent a lot of money to
get to Bayonne; but that was the price, and as there, was no other
way for me to join my new regiment, I had to accept.

We left in an enormous and ancient four-wheeled carriage, in
which three of the seats were occupied by a citizen of Cadiz, his
wife and daughter, while a Benedictine Prior from the university of
Salamanca completed the party.

Everything was new to me on this trip. Firstly, the harnessing,
which greatly surprised me. The team consisted of six splendid
mules, of which, to my astonishment, only the two on the shaft had
bridles and reins, the remaining four went freely, guided only by the
voices of the coachman and his "Zagal" who, agile as a squirrel,
sometimes went for more than a league on foot, running beside his
mules, which were at full trot, then, in a blink of an eye he would
climb up on to the seat beside his master, only to get down and then
up again; which he did twenty times a day; going round the coach and
the harness to make sure that nothing was out of order, and while
doing all this, singing to encourage his mules, each one of which he
called by name. He never struck them, his voice alone being enough
to urge on any mule which was not pulling its weight.

These activities, and in particular the man's singing, I found
most entertaining. I also took a lively interest in what was said in
the coach, for, although I did not speak Spanish, what I knew of
Italian and Latin enabled me to understand much of what my fellow
passengers were saying, to whom I replied in French, which they
understood reasonably well. I did not smoke, but the five Spaniards,
even the two ladies and the monk, soon lit up their cigars. We were
all in good spirits. Don Raphael, the ladies, and even the fat monk
sang together.

Normally we left in the morning. We stopped from one o'clock to
three, to dine, rest the mules, and allow the heat of the day to
pass, during which time one slept; what the Spanish call the siesta.
Then we went on to our night stop. The meals were sufficiently
plentiful, but the Spanish cuisine seemed to me, at first, to taste
awful, however I got used to it; but I could never have got used to
the horrible beds which we were offered at night in the pousadas or
inns. They were really disgusting, and Don Raphael, who had just
spent a year in France was forced to agree. To avoid this
unpleasantness, on the first day of my arrival in Spain, I asked if I
could sleep on a bale of straw. Sadly, I discovered that such a thing
as a bale of straw was unknown in Spain, because, instead of
threshing the sheaves of corn they have them trampled under foot by
mules, which breaks the straw into short bits, scarcely as long as a
finger. But I had the bright idea of filling a large cloth sack with
this short straw, which I placed in a barn and slept on covered by my
cloak; thus avoiding the vermin with which the beds and the rooms
were infested. In the morning I emptied the sack and put it in the
coach and each evening I refilled it so that I had a clean palliasse.
Don Raphael followed my example.

We crossed the provinces of Navarre, Biscay and Alava, country
of high mountains; then we crossed the Ebro and entered the immense
plains of Castile. We passed through Burgos and Valladolid, and
arrived, at last, after a journey lasting fifteen days, at Salamanca.

There, not without regret I parted from my good travelling
companion, whom I was to meet once more in the same part of the
world, during the War of Independence. General Leclerc was at
Salamanca. He received me kindly, and even proposed that I should
stay with him as a supernumerary aide-de-camp, but my recent
experience had taught me that although the post of aide-de-camp
offers one more freedom and comfort than regimental duty, this is
only when one is on the establishment. As a supernumerary you are
landed with all the unpleasant jobs, and you have only a very
precarious position. I therefore turned down the favour which I was
offered and asked to go and join my regiment. It was a good thing
that I took this step, because, the following year, the general,
having been given the command of the expedition to Santa Dominica,
took with him, on his general staff, a lieutenant who had accepted
the post which I had turned down, and all these officers and the
general died of yellow fever.

I joined the 25th Chasseurs at Salamanca. The colonel was
M. Moreau, an old officer and a very fine fellow. He gave me a warm
welcome, as did my new comrades; and in a few days I was on the best
of terms with everybody. I was introduced to the town's society, for
at that time the presence of the French was highly acceptable to the
Spanish, and completely opposite to what it became later. In 1801 we
were their allies. We had come to fight for them against the
Portuguese and the English, so we were treated as friends. The
French officers were billeted with the wealthiest inhabitants and
there was competition to have them. We were received everywhere. We
were overwhelmed by invitations. Being thus admitted into the family
life of the Spaniards, we learned more, in a short time, about their
way of living than officers who came to the peninsula during the War
of Independence could have learned in several years.

I was billeted in the home of a university professor, who had
given me a very nice room looking out onto the handsome Salamanca
square. My regimental duties were not very onerous and left me
plenty of leisure time, which I used to study the Spanish language,
which is, in my opinion, the most elegant and beautiful in Europe. It
was at Salamanca that I saw, for the first time, the famous General
Lasalle. He sold me a horse.

The fifteen thousand French troops sent to Spain with General
Leclerc formed the right wing of the Spanish Grand Army, which was
commanded by the "Prince de la Paix" and we were therefore under
his orders. This man (Emmanuel Godoy) was the queen's favourite and
was, in effect, the king. He came to revue us on one occasion. He
seemed to me to be very pleased with himself, and although he was
small and undistinguished looking, he was not lacking in charm and
ability.

Godoy started the army moving, and our regiment went to Toro and
then to Zamora. I was sorry to leave Salamanca at first, but we were
as well received in other towns, particularly in Zamora, where I
stayed in the house of a rich merchant who had a superb garden, where
a numerous society would gather in the evenings to make music and
pass part of the night in conversation amid groves of pomegranates
myrtles and lemon trees. It is difficult to appreciate fully the
beauties of nature if one has not experienced the delicious nights of
the southern countries.

We had, however, to tear ourselves away from the pleasant life
which we were leading to go and attack the Portuguese. We crossed
the border: there were a few small engagements which all went our
way: the French troops went to Viseu, while the Spanish came down the
Tagus and reached Alantejo: we expected to enter Lisbon soon, as
conquerors. But the Prince de la Paix, who had, without much
reflection, called the French troops into the peninsula, now, also
without much reflection, took fright at their presence, and to get
rid of them he concluded, without the knowledge of the First Consul,
a peace treaty with the Portuguese, which he cunningly had ratified
by the French ambassador, Lucien Bonaparte. This greatly annoyed the
First Consul, and caused, from that day, a rift between the two
brothers.

The French troops stayed for several months longer in Portugal,
until the beginning of 1802; then we returned to Spain and
successively to our previous charming stations of Zamora, Toro and
Salamanca, where we were always made welcome.

On this occasion I went through Spain on horseback with my
regiment, and had no longer any need to avoid the verminous beds of
the pousadas, since we were lodged each evening with the most
respectable citizens. A route march, when one makes it with one's
own regiment and in good weather, is not without a certain charm. One
has a constant change of scene, without being separated from one's
comrades; one sees the countryside in the greatest detail; we talk as
we travel, we dine together, sometimes well, sometimes badly, and one
is in a position to observe the customs of the inhabitants.

One of our pleasures was to watch in the evenings the
Spaniards, shedding their usual lethargy, dance the fandango and the
bolero with a perfection of grace and agility, even in the villages. 
The colonel offered them the use of his band, but they, quite
rightly, preferred the guitar, the castanets, and a woman's voice; an
accompaniment which gave the dance its national characteristics. 
These improvised dances, in the open air, engaged in by the working
class in the towns as well as in the country, gave us so much
pleasure, even as spectators, that we were sorry to leave them.

After more than a month on the road, we recrossed the Bidassoa,
and although I had happy memories of my stay in Spain, it was with
pleasure that I saw France once more.

Chap. 16.

At this period, regiments were responsible for their own remounts,
and the colonel had been authorised to buy sixty horses which he
hoped to procure, bit by bit, in French Navarre, while he was taking
the regiment to Toulouse, where we were to form the garrison. But,
for my sins, we arrived at Bayonne on the day of the town fair, and
the place was full of horse-copers. The colonel arranged a deal with
one of them, who provided all the horses the unit needed straight
away. The dealer could not be paid immediately because the funds
provided by the ministry would take a week to arrive. The colonel
then ordered that an officer should remain behind in Bayonne, to
receive this money and pay the supplier. I was picked for this
wretched task, which landed me later in a most disagreeable
situation, though at the time I saw only that I had been deprived
of the pleasure of travelling with my comrades. However, in spite of
my feelings, I had to obey orders.

To make it easier for me to rejoin the unit, the colonel decided
that my horse should go with the regiment, and that after I had
completed my mission, I should take the stage-coach to Toulouse. I
knew several former pupils from Sorèze who lived in Bayonne and who
helped me to pass the time agreeably. The funds provided by the
ministry arrived and I paid them out and was now free from all
responsibility and ready to rejoin my regiment.

I had a cotton dolman, braided in the same material, and with
silver buttons. I had had this strange costume made when I was on
Bernadotte's staff, since it was the fashion there to wear this
uniform when travelling in hot weather. I decided to wear this
outfit on the journey to Toulouse, as I was not with my regiment, so
I packed my uniform in my trunk and took it to the stage-coach, where
I booked my seat and, unfortunately, paid in advance.

The coach was due to leave at five in the morning, so I told the
porter at the hotel where I was staying to come and waken me at
four, and the rascal having promised to do so, I went to bed without
further ado. But he forgot; and when I opened my eyes, the sun was
shining into the room and it was after eight o'clock...! What a
disaster...! I was dumbfounded, and having cursed and upbraided the
negligent porter, I had to think what I could do. The first
difficulty was that the stage-coach ran only every second day, but
that was not the major problem, which was that though the regiment
had paid for my seat because I was on duty, they were not obliged to
pay twice, and I had been stupid enough to pay for the whole journey
in advance; so that if I took a new seat it would be at my own
expense. Now at this time stage-coach fares were very costly, and I
had very little money, and also, what was I to do for forty-eight
hours in Bayonne, when all my belongings were on the coach...? I
resolved to make the journey on foot.

I left the town without delay, and set off bravely on the road to
Toulouse. I was lightly clad, and had nothing but my sabre, which I
carried on my shoulder, so I covered the first stage briskly enough
and spent the night at Peyrehorade.

The next day was a day of disaster. I intended to go as far as
Orthez, and had already made half the journey when I was overtaken
by one of these terrible storms which one has in the Midi. Rain 
mixed with hail fell in torrents, beating on my face; the road,
already bad, became a morass in which I had the greatest difficulty
in walking in boots with spurs; a chestnut tree near to me was struck
by lighting.... No matter, I walked on with stoic resignation. But,
behold....! In the midst of the storm I saw coming toward me two
mounted gendarmes. You can easily imagine how I looked after
paddling for two hours in the mud, dressed in my cotton breeches and
dolman. The gendarmes belonged to the station at Peyrehorade, to
which they were returning, but it seemed that they had lunched very
well at Orthez, for they were somewhat drunk. The older of the two
asked me for my papers; I gave him my travel permit, on which I was
described as a sous-lieutenant of the 25th Chasseurs. "You! A
sous-lieutenant?" shouted the gendarme, "you're too young to be an
officer!"  But read the description," I said, "and you will see
that it says that I am not yet twenty years old. It is exact in
every point." "That may be," he replied, "but it is a forgery; and
the proof of that is that the Chasseur's uniform is green and you are
wearing a yellow dolman. You are an escaped conscript, and I am
arresting you." "All right," I said, "but when we get to Orthez and
I see your lieutenant, I can easily prove that I am an officer and
that this travel document is genuine."

I was not much worried by this arrest; but now the older gendarme
said that he did not intend to go to Orthez. He belonged to the
station at Peyrehorade, and I must follow him there. I said that I
would do nothing of the kind, and that he could require this only if
I had no papers, but as I had shown him my travel permit, he had no
right to make me go back, and that it was his duty, according to the
regulations, to accompany me to my destination, which was Orthez.

The younger gendarme, who was less full of wine, said that I was
right. A lively dispute then broke out between the two of them. 
They hurled insults at one another and in the middle of the tempest
which was all around us, they drew their sabres and charged furiously
together. I was afraid I might be injured in this ridiculous combat,
so I got into one of the huge ditches which ran along each side of
the road, and although I was in water up to my waist, I climbed up
onto the bordering field, from where I watched the two warriors
skirmishing to get the better of one another.

Fortunately, the heavy, wet cloaks which they were wearing clung
round their arms, and the horses, frightened by the thunder, would
not go near each other, so that the riders could manage only a few
ill directed blows. Eventually the older gendarme's horse fell, and
he landed in the ditch. When he got out,covered in mire, he found
that his saddle was broken and that he would have to continue his
journey on foot; so he set out, after telling his companion that he
was now responsible for the prisoner. Left alone with the more
sensible of the two gendarmes, I pointed out to him that if I had
anything to hide, it would be easy for me to make off into the
country, as there was a large ditch between us which his horse could
not cross, but that I would surrender myself to him since he had
agreed not to make me go back. So I continued on my way, escorted by
the gendarme, who was beginning to sober up. We had some
conversation, and it became apparent that the fact that I had
surrendered, when it would have been easy for me to run away, made him
begin to think that I might be what I said I was. He would have let
me go had he not been put in charge of me by his companion. He
became more and more accommodating, and said he would not take me all
the way to Orthez, but would consult the Mayor of Puyoo, which we
were going to pass through.

My arrival was that of a malefactor: all the villagers, who had
been driven back to the village by the storm, were at their doors and
windows to see the criminal in the charge of the gendarme; however, the
Mayor of Puyoo was a good, stout, sensible peasant, whom we found in
his barn, threshing corn. As soon as he had read my travel permit,
he said, gravely, to the gendarme, "Set this young man at liberty at
once. You have no right to arrest him. An officer on a journey is
designated by his documents, not by his clothes." Could Solomon have
produced a better judgement?
The good peasant did not stop at that, he wanted me to stay with
him until the storm had passed and he offered me food. Then, while
we were talking, he told me that he had once seen at Orthez a
general whose name was Marbot. I told him that this was my father,
and described him. Then the good man, whose name was Bordenave
became even more solicitous and wanted to dry my clothes and offered
me a bed for the night; but I thanked him and went on my way to
Orthez, where I arrived at nightfall, completely worn out. The next
day it was only with great difficulty that I could put my boots on,
partly because they were wet and partly because my feet were swollen.

However I managed to drag myself as far as Pau, and being unable to
go any further, I stayed there all day. I could find no other means
of transport but the mail coach, and although the seats were very
expensive, I took one as far as Gimont, where I was welcomed with
open arms by M. Dorignac, a friend of my father, with whom I had spent
several months after I left Sorèze. I rested for a few days with his
family, then I took a stage-coach to Toulouse. I had spent four times
the cost of the seat which I had lost through the negligence of the
hotel porter at Bayonne.

On my arrival at Toulouse I was going to look around for
somewhere to live, but the colonel told me that he had arranged a
place for me with one of his friends, an elderly doctor named
M. Merlhes, whose name I shall never forget, because this worthy man
and his numerous offspring were so good to me. During the two weeks
I stayed with them, I was treated as a member of the family rather
than as a boarder.

The regiment was up to strength and well mounted. We had many
exercises which I found very interesting; though I sometimes found
myself up before squadron commander Blancheville, an excellent
officer, an old soldier from whom I learned to work with precision,
and I owe much to him. Blancheville, before the revolution, had been
on the staff of the gendarmes of Lunéville. He was very well
educated and took a great interest in young officers whom he thought
capable of learning, and compelled them to study whether they liked
it or not. As for the others, whom he called the block-heads, he
simply shrugged his shoulders when they did not know their drill or
made mistakes during exercises, but he never punished them for it. 
There were two or three sous-lieutenants whom he had picked out, they
were MM. Gavoille, Dumonts and me. In our case he would not suffer
an incorrectly given order, and punished us for the slightest
mistake. As he was a very good fellow, when off duty we risked
asking him why he treated us so severely. "Do you think I am so
stupid that I would try to wash a black man white?" He replied, "Messers so and so are too old and lacking in talent to make it worth
my while to try to improve them. As for you who have all that is
required to succeed, you need to study, and study you shall!" I have
never forgotten this reply, and I made use of it when I became a
colonel. In fact old Blancheville had drawn our horoscopes
accurately, Gavoille became a lieutenant-colonel, Dumonts a
brigadier-general and I a divisional general.

On my arrival at Toulouse, I had exchanged the horse which I had
bought in Spain for a delightful mount from Navarre. Now, it so
happened that the prefect had arranged a race meeting in celebration
of some fête or other, and Gavoille, who was a great lover of racing,
had persuaded me to enter my horse. One day, when I was exercising
my horse on a grass track, as he took a tight curve at full speed, he
collided with the projecting wall of a garden and fell stone dead. 
My companions thought I had been killed or at least seriously
injured, but by a miraculous piece of good luck I was unhurt. When I
had been picked up, and saw my poor horse lying motionless, I was
very upset, and went back sadly to my billet, where I confronted the
realisation that I would have to buy another horse, and would have to
ask my mother for the money to do so, although I knew she was very
hard-up.

Comte Defermon, a minister of state and one of our trustees, was
opposed to the sale of those properties which still belonged to us,
because he foresaw that peace would increase the value of land. He
considered, rightly, that they should be retained and creditors paid
off gradually by rigid economy. This is one of the greatest
obligations we owe to the good M. Defermon, the most sincere of my
father's friends, and one for whose memory I have the deepest
respect.

When my request for money to buy a new horse was submitted to the
council of trustees, General Bernadotte, who was one of them, burst
out laughing, saying that it was a good try and that the excuse was
well chosen, and suggesting that my application was what now-a-days
would be called a "con", but, fortunately my request was backed up by
a letter from the colonel, and M. Defermon stated that he did not
believe me capable of trying to obtain money by trickery. He was
quite right in this, for although I had an allowance of only 600
francs, my pay of just 95 francs a month and a lodging allowance of 12
francs, I never had a penny of debt; something I have always regarded
with horror.

I bought a new horse, which was not as good as the Navarrais, but
the general inspections, which had been reintroduced by the First
Consul, were approaching, and it was essential that I was quickly
remounted, the more so because we were to be inspected by General
Bourcier, who had the reputation of being a stern disciplinarian.

I was detailed to go with thirty men to form an escort for him. 
He welcomed me warmly and spoke of my father, whom he had known
well, which, however, did not prevent him from putting me on a charge
the following day. The way in which this came about is quite
amusing.

One of our captains, named B***, was a very good-looking lad, and
would have been one of the most handsome men in the army if his
calves had been in harmony with the rest of his person; but his legs
were like stilts, which looked very odd in the tight breeches, called
Hungarians, which were then worn by the Chasseurs. To get over this
blemish, Captain B*** had acquired pads made in the shape of calves,
which completed his fine appearance. You will see how these calves
got me into trouble, but they were not the only cause.

The regulations laid down that the tails of officer's horses
should be left flowing, as were the tails of the trooper's horses. 
Our colonel, M. Moreau, was always perfectly mounted, but all his
horses had their tails cut, and as he feared that General Bourcier--a stickler for the rules--would take him to task for setting a bad
example to his officers, he had, for the time of the inspection, had
false tails fitted to his horses which were so realistic that,
unless one knew, one would think them natural. This was all very
fine. We went on manoeuvres, to which General Bourcier had invited
General Suchet, the inspector of infantry, and General Gudin, the
commander of the territorial division, and was accompanied by a
numerous and brilliant staff.

The exercises were very long. Almost all the movements, carried
out at the gallop, ended with several charges at top speed. I was in
command of a section in the centre of Captain B***'s squadron, and it
was next to the captain that the colonel took up his position. They
were therefore a couple of paces in front of me when the generals
came to congratulate Colonel Moreau on the fine performance of his
troops. But what did I then see?.... The extreme rapidity of the
movements had deranged the accessories added to the turn-out of both
the colonel and Captain B***; the false tail of the colonel's horse
had come adrift, the centre part, made of a pad of tow, was hanging
down nearly to the ground and the hairs were spread over the horse's
crupper in a sort of peacock's tail. As for Captain B***'s calves,
they had slipped round to the front, and could be seen as large lumps
on his shins, which produced a somewhat bizarre effect, while the
captain sat up proudly on his horse, as if to say "Look at me! See
how handsome I am!"

One has little gravity at the age of twenty. Mine was unable to
resist the grotesque spectacle in front of me, and in spite of the
presence of no less than three generals, I was unable to stop myself
from bursting into laughter, however much I tried. The inspecting
general, not knowing the reason for my hilarity, called me out of the
ranks to reprimand me, but to reach him I had to pass between the
colonel and Captain B***, and my eyes were once more directed to this
cursed tail and the new calves sported by the captain, and I again
burst out laughing. I was then put under open arrest. The generals
must have thought I was crazy, but as soon as they had gone, the
officers of the regiment gathered round the colonel and Captain
B***, and soon realised what had happened. They laughed as I had
done, but in easier circumstances.

In the evening, the commandant Blancheville attended a reception
given by Madame Gudin. General Bourcier, who was also there, having
brought up the subject of what he called my escapade, M. Blancheville
explained the reasons for my unseemly laughter, an explanation which
gave rise to much amusement. The laughter was increased by the entry
of Captain B***, who having adjusted his false calves, had come to
display himself in this brilliant society, without suspecting that he
was one of the reasons for their hilarity. General Bourcier,
appreciating that if he could not help laughing at a description of
the sight which had greeted my eyes, it was natural enough that a
young sous-lieutenant could not contain himself when confronted with
this ridiculous spectacle, cancelled my arrest and sent someone to
look for me. My arrival rekindled the laughter, which was increased
by the sight of Captain B***, who alone was unaware of the cause,
going from person to person asking what it was all about, while
everyone gazed at his calves.

Chap. 17.

Let us now turn to more serious matters. The Treaty of Lunéville
had been followed by the Peace of Amiens, which put an end to the war
between France and England. The First Consul decided to profit from
the tranquility of Europe and the freedom of the sea to despatch a
large body of troops to Dominica, which he wished to recover from the
control of the blacks led by Toussaint-Louverture, a man who, without
being in open revolt against the French, nevertheless adopted an air
of great independence. General Leclerc was to be in command of this
expedition. This general was a capable officer who had fought
successfully in Egypt and Italy; but his principal distinction was
that he had married Pauline Bonaparte, the First Consul's sister.
Leclerc was the son of a miller from Pontoise, if one can describe as
a miller, a very rich mill owner who had a considerable business. 
The miller had given the best of educations to his son and also to
his daughter, who married General Davout.

While General Leclerc was preparing for his departure, the First
Consul concentrated in Brittany those troops which he had earmarked
for the expedition, and these troops naturally came under the command
of the commander-in-chief of the area, which was Bernadotte.

It is well known that there was always a great rivalry between the
troops of the Rhine army and those of the army of Italy. The former
were greatly attached to General Moreau, and did not care for General
Bonaparte, whose elevation to the head of government they had
witnessed with regret. For his part, the First Consul had a great
liking for the soldiers who had fought with him in Italy and Egypt,
and, although the breach with Moreau was not yet openly declared, he
considered that it would be in his interest to remove to as far away
as possible troops devoted to this general. In consequence, the
troops selected for the expedition to Dominica were almost all taken
from the army of the Rhine. These men, however were perfectly happy
to find themselves in Brittany, under the command of Bernadotte, a
former lieutenant of Moreau's who had almost always served with them
on the Rhine.

The expeditionary force was to comprise eventually some forty
thousand men. The army of the west proper consisted of a similar
number, so that Bernadotte, whose command extended to cover all the
departments between the mouth of the Gironde and that of the Seine,
had for a time under his orders an army of eighty thousand men, of
whom the majority were more attached to him than to the head of the
consular government.

If General Bernadotte had had more strength of character, the
First Consul would have regretted putting him in such a powerful
position; for I can say today, as an historical fact which will
harm no one, that Bernadotte plotted against the government of which
Bonaparte was the head. I shall give some details about this
conspiracy which were never known to the public, and perhaps not even
to General Bonaparte himself.

Generals Bernadotte and Moreau, jealous of the elevated position
of the First Consul, and dissatisfied with the small part he gave
them in public affairs, had resolved to overthrow him, and place
themselves at the head of the government in conjunction with a civil
administrator or an enlightened magistrate. To achieve this aim,
Bernadotte, who, it must be said, had a talent for making himself
liked by both officers and men, went about the provinces of his
command, reviewing troops and using every means to increase their
attachment to him. Enticements of all sorts, money, promises of
promotion, were employed among the junior officers, while secretly
he denigrated the government of the First Consul to the seniors. 
Having sown disaffection amongst most of the regiments, it would not
have been difficult to push them into revolt; particularly those
destined for the expeditionary force, who regarded it as a sort of
deportation.

Bernadotte had as chief of staff Brigadier-general Simon, a
competent but rather colourless officer. His rank put him in a
position to correspond daily with unit commanders, and he used it to
make his office the centre of the conspiracy. A battalion commander
named Foucart was at that time attached to General Simon, who made
him his principal agent. Foucart, using the excuse of official
duties, travelled from garrison to garrison organising a secret
league, which was joined by almost all the colonels and a crowd of
senior officers, who were turned against the First Consul by
accusations that he aspired to royalty; something, it seems, that he
had not yet considered.

It was agreed that the garrison of Rennes, composed of several
regiments, would begin the movement, which would spread like a trail
of gunpowder into all divisions of the army: and as it was necessary
that in this garrison there should be one unit which would start
things off and get the rest moving, the 82nd Line regiment was
brought to Rennes. This regiment was commanded by Colonel Pinoteau,
an energetic and capable man, very brave, but something of a hothead,
although he appeared outwardly phlegmatic. He was a follower of
Bernadotte and one of the most enthusiastic of the conspirators. He
promised to deliver his regiment, where he was extremely popular.

Everything was ready for the explosion when Bernadotte,
lacking resolve and aiming, like a true Gascon, to have a catspaw to
pull his chestnuts from the fire, persuaded General Simon and the
other principal conspirators that it was essential that he should be
in Paris when the army of Brittany proclaimed the deposition of the
consul, so that he would be in a position to seize immediately the
reins of government, in association with General Moreau, with whom he
was going to confer about the matter. In reality, Bernadotte wished
not to be compromised if the attempt failed, while maintaining
himself in a position to take advantage of any success, and General
Simon and the other conspirators were blind enough not to see through
this ruse. The day of the armed uprising was then agreed, but the
man who should have led it, because he had organised it, had
cunningly absented himself.

Before Bernadotte left for Paris, a proclamation had been drawn
up, addressed to the people of France as well as to the army. 
Several thousand copies of this were to be stuck up on the day of the
event. A bookseller in Rennes, introduced by General Simon and by
Foucart into the conspiracy, had undertaken to print this proclamation
himself. This ensured that the proclamation would be ready for use
in Brittany, but Bernadotte wanted to have a large number of these
posters in Paris, for it was important to spread them throughout the
capital and to send them to all the provinces as soon as the army of
the west had made its move against the government, and as there was a
risk of discovery if an approach was made to a Paris printer,
Bernadotte devised a method of acquiring a large number of posters
without compromising himself. He told my brother Adolphe, who was
his aide-de-camp, that he was authorised to accompany him to Paris,
and that he was to bring his horse and his carriage in anticipation
of a long stay. My brother was delighted, and having packed his
personal effects into the lockers of the carriage, he instructed his
servant to bring the carriage, unhurriedly, to Paris while he went
there by stage-coach.

As soon as my brother had left, General Simon and Commandant
Foucart, delaying, under some pretext or other, the departure of my
brother's servant, opened the carriage lockers and took out the
personal possessions, which they replaced by packets of the
proclamation. Then, having closed everything up, they sent poor
Joseph on his way, without any suspicion of what he was carrying.

However, the First Consul's police had got wind of something
brewing in the army of Brittany, but without knowing exactly what was
going on or who was involved. The minister of police thought it was
his duty to inform the prefect of Rennes who was a M. Mounier, and by
the most extraordinary chance the prefect received this despatch on
the very day when the revolt was due to break out, during a parade at
Rennes, at mid-day. It was now eleven-thirty!

The prefect, to whom the minister had given no positive
information, thought that in order to obtain some, he could do no
better,in the absence of the commanding general, than to consult his
chief of staff. He therefore asked General Simon to come to his
office, and showed him the ministerial despatch. General Simon,
believing that all had been discovered, then foolishly lost his head.

He told the prefect that there was indeed a vast conspiracy in the
army, in which he had, unfortunately, played a part, of which he now
repented; and thereupon he disclosed all the plans of the
conspirators, and named the leaders; adding that in a few minutes the
troops gathered on the parade ground, at a signal from General
Pinoteau, were going to proclaim the overthrow of the consular
government!

You may imagine M. Mounier's astonishment, and the concern he felt
at being in the presence of a culpable general who, though at first
thrown into confusion, might recover himself and recollect that he
had eighty thousand men under his command, of whom eight to ten
thousand were at this moment gathered not far from the prefecture. 
The position in which M. Mounier found himself was critical, but he
extricated himself adroitly.

The general commanding the gendarmerie, Virion, had been ordered
by the government to put together at Rennes a body of unmounted
gendarmes, for the formation of which every regiment had supplied
some Grenadiers. These soldiers, having no unifying bonds, escaped,
in consequence, from the influence of the colonels of the regiments,
and recognised only the orders of their new leaders, those of the
gendarmerie who, in accordance with the regulations, obeyed the
instructions of the prefect. M. Mounier now sent for General Virion,
telling him to bring all the gendarmes. Meanwhile, fearing that
General Simon might change his mind and leave him to go and place
himself at the head of his troops, he soothed him with honeyed words,
assuring him that his repentance and his confession would mitigate
his offence in the eyes of the First Consul, and persuaded him to
hand over his sword and go to the Tour Labat with the gendarmes who
had at that moment arrived in the courtyard. So now the prime mover
in the revolt was in prison.

While this was going on at the prefecture, the troops assembled at
the Place D'armes were awaiting the hour of the parade which would
also be that of the beginning of the revolt. All the colonels were in
the secret, and had promised their support except the commander of
the 79th, M. Goddard, who it was hoped would follow the rest.

From what a slender thread hangs the destiny of empires! Pinoteau,
a strong and determined man, was due to give the signal which his
regiment, the 82nd, already drawn up in battle formation on the
square, was impatiently awaiting; but Pinoteau, with Foucart, had
been busy all morning arranging for the despatch of proclamations,
and in their preoccupation he had forgotten to shave. Mid-day
arrived. Colonel Pinoteau realising that he was unshaven, hurried to
put this right; but while he was engaged in this operation, General
Virion, escorted by a large number of gendarmes, burst into the room,
seized his sword and declared him a prisoner. He was taken to the
tower to join General Simon. A few minutes later and Colonel
Pinoteau would have been at the head of ten thousand men, and would
undoubtedly have succeeded in starting the revolt. But taken thus by
surprise he could do nothing but surrender to force.

Having made this second arrest, Virion and the prefect sent an
aide-de-camp to the parade ground to tell Colonel Goddard of the 79th
that they had a communication for him from the First Consul. As soon
as he arrived, they told him of the discovery of the conspiracy and
the arrest of General Simon and Colonel Pinoteau, and persuaded him
to unite with them in putting down the rebellion. Having agreed to
this, Colonel Goddard returned to the parade ground without telling
anyone what he had learned, and taking his battalion to the Tour
Labat, he joined the battalion of gendarmes who were guarding it. 
Also there were the prefect and General Virion, who arranged for
ammunition to be distributed to the loyal troops. They then awaited
events.

Meanwhile, the officers of the regiments which were assembled
on the parade ground, surprised at the sudden departure of the 79th,
and not understanding why General Pinoteau was late, sent to his
home, where they were told that he had been arrested and sent to the
tower. They were told at the same time of the arrest of General
Simon.

This put the cat among the pigeons. The officers of the various
units got together; Commandant Foucart proposed that they should
march immediately to free the two prisoners and carry on with the
movement. This suggestion was received with acclamation,
particularly from the 82nd, who worshipped Colonel Pinoteau. They
hurried to the Tour Labat, but found it surrounded by four thousand
gendarmes and the battalion of the 79th. The assailants were
undoubtedly the more numerous, but they had no ammunition and if
they had had any, many of them would have been reluctant to fire on
their comrades, simply to make a change in the members of the
government. General Virion and the Prefect addressed them and urged
them to return to their duty. The soldiers hesitated, and seeing
this, none of the officers dared to order a bayonet attack, which was
the only action which remained possible. Gradually the regiments
stood down, and returned one by one to their barracks. Commandant
Foucart, left alone, was taken to the tower, along with the
unfortunate printer.

On learning that the insurrection at Rennes had failed, all the
officers of the other regiments of the army of Brittany disavowed it;
but the First Consul was not taken in by their protestations, he
brought forward the date of their embarkation for Dominica and the
other islands of the Antilles, where nearly all of them died, either
in the fighting or of yellow fever.

As soon as he had heard the first confessions of General Simon and
before the situation was fully under control, M. Mounier had sent a
despatch rider to the government, and the First Consul now considered
whether he should have Bernadotte and Moreau arrested. However, he
suspended this measure for lack of any evidence, and to get hold of
some, he ordered the examination of any travellers coming from
Brittany.

While all this was going on, the good Joseph arrived at Versailles
in my brother's carriage, and much to his surprise, found himself
seized by the gendarmerie, and, in spite of his protests, brought
before the minister of police. On learning that the carriage which
this man was driving belonged to one of Bernadotte's aides-de-camp,
the minister, Fouché, had all the lockers searched and found them
full of proclamations, in which Bernadotte and Moreau, after
denouncing the First Consul in violent terms announced his fall and
their accession to power.

Bonaparte, furious with these two officers, demanded their
presence. Moreau told him that as he, Moreau,had no authority over
the army of the west, he would accept no responsibility for the
conduct of the regiments of which it was composed; and one has to
admit that this was a valid objection. It however worsened the
position of Bernadotte, who, as commander-in-chief of the troops
assembled in Brittany, was responsible for maintaining good order
and discipline amongst them; but not only had his army engaged in
conspiracy, but his chief-of-staff was a leader in the enterprise. 
The rebel proclamations bore Bernadotte's signature, and more than
one thousand copies of this document had just been found in a
carriage belonging to his aide-de-camp. The First Consul thought that
such evident proofs would flatten and confound Bernadotte; but he was
dealing with a true Gascon, as devious as they come!

Bernadotte expressed surprise...indignation! He knew
nothing...absolutely nothing! General Simon was a villain and so was
Pinoteau! He defied anyone to produce the original proclamation
bearing his signature! Was it his fault if some lunatic had arranged
for his name to be printed at the foot of a proclamation which he
utterly and completely rejected. As for the wicked originators of all
these plots, he would be the first to demand their punishment.

Bernadotte had indeed contrived to get everything directed by
General Simon, without giving him a single word in writing which
might compromise himself, and had left himself in a position in which
he could deny everything if, in the event of the plot failing,
General Simon should accuse him of being a participant. The First
Consul, though convinced of Bernadotte's guilt, had no solid evidence
to go on, and his council of ministers concluded that it would not be
feasible to bring charges against a general who was so popular in the
country and the army. Sadly, these sort of considerations did not
apply to my brother Adolphe. One fine night they came to my mother's
house to arrest him, and this at a time when the poor woman was
already overburdened with grief.

M. de Canrobert, her eldest brother, whom she had managed to have
taken off the list of émigrés, was living peaceably with her when he
was picked out by a policeman as having been present at some
gathering whose aim was the restoration of the previous government. 
He was taken to the Temple Prison, where he was detained for eleven
months. My mother was taking every possible step to prove his
innocence and obtain his liberty when she was struck by another
terrible disaster.

My two younger brothers were pupils at the French Military School.
This establishment had a huge park and a fine country house in the
village of Vanves, not far from the banks of the Seine; and in the
summer the pupils went there to pass some of their holidays, when
those who had behaved well were allowed to bathe in the river. Now
it so happened that, because of some student peccadillo, the
headmaster had deprived the whole school of the pleasure of swimming;
however my brother Theodore loved swimming, so he and some of his
friends decided to go swimming without the knowledge of their
masters. While the pupils were spread about the park playing, they
went to an isolated spot where they climbed over the wall and, on a
very hot day, they ran to the Seine, into which they jumped, bathed
in perspiration. They were scarcely in the water, however, when they
heard the college drum beating for dinner. Fearing that their
escapade would be discovered by their absence from the refectory,
they dressed hurriedly and rushed back by the way they had come, to
arrive, breathless, at the start of the meal. In such circumstances,
they should have eaten little or nothing, but schoolboys are
heedless, and they ate as much as usual, with the result that they
nearly all became ill. Theodore was particularly affected, and was
taken to my mother's house desperately ill with pneumonia.

It was while she was going from the bedside of her mortally
afflicted son to her brother's prison, that they came to arrest her
first-born. An appalling situation for any mother. To make matters
worse, poor Theodore died. He was eighteen years old, charming and
handsome. I was desolated to hear of his death, for I was very fond
of him.
These dreadful misfortunes which, one after another, assailed my
mother, impelled those who were my father's true friends to exert
themselves on her behalf. A leading figure among them was
M. Defermon, who worked almost daily with the First Consul, and who
rarely failed to intercede for Adolphe and his widowed mother.
Eventually, General Bonaparte said to him one day, that although he
had a low opinion of Bernadotte's common sense, he did not believe
that he was so lacking in judgement that in conspiring against the
government, he would take into his confidence a twenty-one year old
lieutenant; and besides that, General Simon had stated that it was he
and Commandant Foucart who had put the proclamations in young
Marbot's carriage, so that, if he was to blame at all, it was only to
a very small extent. However, he, the First Consul, was not willing
to release the aide-de-camp until Bernadotte came in person to ask
him to do so.

When she heard of this decision taken by the First Consul, my
mother hastened to Bernadotte's house and begged him to take the
necessary step. He promised solemnly to do but the days and weeks
rolled past without him doing anything. Eventually, he said to my
mother, "What you are asKing of me will be extremely painful, but no
matter, I owe this to the memory of your husband, as well as to the
interest I have in your children. I shall go this very evening to
see the First Consul and I shall call at your house after leaving the
Tuileries. I am certain I shall be able to announce the release of
your son."

One can imagine with what impatience my mother waited during this
long day! Every coach she heard made her heart beat. But at last
it struck eleven o'clock and Bernadotte had not appeared. My mother
then went round to his house, and what do you suppose she was
told?....That General Bernadotte and his wife had left, to take the
waters at Plombières, and would not be back for two months! In spite
of his promises, Bernadotte had left Paris without seeing the First
Consul. Devastated, my mother wrote to General Bonaparte. M. Defermon,
who undertook to deliver the letter, was so indignant at the conduct
of General Bernadotte that he could not resist telling the First
Consul how he had behaved toward us. "That," said the First Consul,
"is the sort of thing I would expect!"

M. Defermon, Generals Mortier, Lefebvre and Murat then urged that
my brother should be freed; observing that if he had been unaware of
the conspiracy, it was unjust to keep him in prison, and even if he
had known something about it, he could not be expected to carry tales
about Bernadotte, whose aide-de-camp he was. This reasoning impressed
the First Consul, who set my brother at liberty and sent him to
Cherbourg, to join the 49th Line regiment, as he did not wish him to
continue as aide-de-camp to Bernadotte.

Bonaparte, who had a very long memory, probably had engraved,
somewhere in his head, the words, "Marbot. Aide-de-camp of
Bernadotte. Conspiracy of Rennes." So my brother was never again
looked on with favour, and some time later he was sent to Pondichery.

Adolphe had spent a month in prison; Commandant Foucart was there
for a year. He was cashiered and ordered to leave France. He took
refuge in Holland, where he lived miserably for thirty years on
earnings from French lessons, which he was reduced to giving, as he
had no personal fortune.

At last, in 1832, he thought to return to his native country, and
during the siege of Anvers I saw, one day, come into my room, a sort
of elderly schoolmaster, very threadbare; it was Foucart, I
recognised him. He told me that he did not have a brass farthing!
While I offered him some assistance, I could not help reflecting
on the bizarre workings of fate. Here was a man who in 1802 was
already a battalion commander, and whose courage and ability would
have certainly carried him to the rank of general, if Colonel
Pinoteau had not decided to shave at the moment when the conspiracy
of Rennes was due to come to a head. I took Foucart to Marshal
Gérard, who also remembered him, and together we presented him to the
Duc d'Orléans, who gave him a job in his library, at a salary of 2400
francs. He lived there for fifteen years.

As for General Simon and Colonel Pinoteau, they were imprisoned in
the Isle de Ré for five or six years. Eventually, Bonaparte, having
become Emperor, set them free. Pinoteau had been vegetating for some
time in Rufec, his birthplace, when, in 1808, the Emperor, who was on
his way to Spain, having stopped there to change horses, Pinoteau
presented himself boldly before him and requested to be re-engaged
in military service. The Emperor, who knew that he was an excellent
officer, then placed him in command of a regiment, which he led
faultlessly throughout the wars in Spain, so that after several
campaigns, he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general.

General Simon also returned to military service. He was in
command of an infantry brigade in Masséna's army when we invaded
Portugal. At the battle of Busaco, where Masséna made the mistake of
mounting a frontal attack on the Duke of Wellington's army, which was
in position on the heights of a mountain with a very difficult
approach, Poor Simon, wishing, no doubt, to redeem himself and to
make up for the time he had lost towards promotion, charged bravely
at the head of his brigade, overcame every obstacle, clambered up
the rocks under a hail of bullets, broke through the English line and
was first into the enemy entrenchments. But, there, a bullet fired
at close range shattered his jaw at the moment when the English
second line drove back our troops, who were thrown down into the
valley with considerable losses. The enemy found the unfortunate
general lying in the redout among the dead and dying. His face was
hardly recognisable as human. Wellington treated him with much
respect, and as soon as he could be moved, he sent him to England as
a prisoner of war. He was later permitted to return to France. But
his terrible injury barred him from any further service. The Emperor
gave him a pension, and one heard no more of him.

Chap. 18.

After the unhappy events which had just befallen her, my mother
longed to re-unite her three remaining sons around her. My brother,
having been ordered to join the expeditionary force which was being
sent to India under the command of General Decaen, was given
permission to spend two months with my mother; Félix was at the
Military School, and a piece of good fortune brought me also to
Paris.

The School of Cavalry was then at Versailles; every regiment sent
there an officer and a non-commissioned officer, who, after
completing their studies, returned to their unit to act as
instructors. Now it so happened that at the moment when I was about
to ask for permission to go to Paris, the lieutenant who had been at
the School had completed the course, and the colonel proposed to send
me to replace him. I accepted this with pleasure, for not only would
it allow me to see my mother again, but it would ensure that for
eighteen months I would be living only a short distance from her.

My preparations were soon made. I sold my horse and taking the
stage-coach, I left the 25th Chasseurs, to which I was never to
return; although not being aware of this at the time, my farewells to
my comrades were lighthearted.

On my arrival in Paris, I found my mother greatly upset, not only
on account of the cruel loss which we had just suffered, but also
over the imminent departure of Adolphe for India, and the detention
of my uncle Canrobert, which continued indefinitely.

We spent a month together as a family, at the end of which my
elder brother had to report to Brest, where he was soon embarked for
Pondichery in the "Marengo." As for me, I went to settle in at the
School of Cavalry, whose barracks were in the great stables of
Versailles.

I was lodged on the first floor, in apartments which had once
been occupied by the Prince de Lambesc, the master of horse. I had a
very big bedroom and an immense "salon" which looked out over the
Avenue de Paris and the parade-ground. I was at first astonished
that the most recently arrived pupil should be so well housed, but I
soon learned that no one wanted this apartment because its huge size
made it glacially cold, and few of the officer pupils could afford to
keep a fire going. Happily I was not entirely without means. I had a
good stove put in, and with a big screen, I made in this vast
apartment a little room, which I furnished modestly, since all we
were issued with was a table, a bed, and two chairs, which were quite
out of place in the enormous space of my quarters. So I made myself
reasonably comfortable until the return of spring, when the place
seemed quite charming.

Although we were called pupils, you should not suppose that we
were treated as students. We were allowed every freedom, too much
freedom in fact. We were commanded by an old colonel, M. Maurice,
whom we hardly ever saw, and who did not take part in anything. On
three days in the week we had civilian horsemanship, under the
celebrated equestrians Jardin and Coupé, and we went there when it
suited us. In the afternoon, an excellent veterinarian, M. Valois,
ran a course on the care of horses; but no one compelled us to study
with any diligence. The other three days were devoted to military
matters. In the morning, military horsemanship, taught by the only
two captains in the school, and in the afternoon, drill, also taught
by them. Once this parade was finished, the captains disappeared and
each student went his own way.

You will appreciate that it took a keen desire to learn, to get
anywhere in a school so badly run; however most of the students made progress because, being destined to become instructors in their
respective regiments, their self-respect made them fear not being up
to the task. So they worked reasonably hard, but not as hard as one
would as a schoolboy. As for behaviour, the staff took no interest in
it. As long as the students caused no trouble in the establishment
itself, they were allowed to do as they pleased. They came and went
at all hours. They were subject to no role call. They ate in hotels,
if it suited them, slept out, and even went to Paris without asking
permission. The non-commissioned pupils had a little less liberty. 
Two moderately strict sergeants were in charge of them, who insisted
that they were back by ten o'clock at night.

Each of us wore the uniform of his regiment, so that a gathering
of the whole school presented an interesting sight, as when, on the
first day of every month, we paraded in full dress in order to draw
up the pay roll; then you could see the uniforms of all the French
cavalry regiments.

As all these officers belonged to different units, and were thrown
together only for the duration of the course, there could not exist
between them the close fellowship which is one of the features of
regimental life. We were too numerous (ninety) for there to be a
bond between all. There were coteries but no union. I did not feel
any need to socialise with my new comrades. I left every Saturday for
Paris, where I spent the next day and most of Monday with my mother.
There were at Versailles two old friends of my mother, from Rennes;
the Comtesses de Châteauville, a pair of very respectable and well
educated elderly ladies, who entertained only a select society. I
went two or three times a week to spend an evening with them. The
remaining evenings I employed in reading, which I have always greatly
enjoyed, for if school sets a man on the road to education, he must
get there by himself through reading. How pleasant it was, in the
midst of a very harsh winter, to come back to my quarters after
dinner, make up a good fire and there, alone, ensconced behind my
screen and beside my little lamp, to read until eight or nine
o'clock; then to go to bed, in order to save wood, and continue
reading to midnight. In this way I re-read Tacitus and Xenophon and
many of the classical Greek and Roman authors; I revised the history
of Rome and of France, and the principle countries of Europe. My
time, shared between my mother, my work at the school, a little good
society and my beloved books, passed very agreeably.

I began the year 1803 at Versailles. Spring introduced some
changes into my way of life. Each of the officers at the school was
provided with a horse, so I devoted some of my evenings to taking
long rides in the magnificent woods which surround Versailles, Marly,
and Meudon.

During May, my mother was made very happy by the release of her
eldest brother from the Temple prison, and the return to France of
the other two, de l'Isle and de la Coste, who, having been struck off
the list of émigrés came to Paris.

The eldest of my mother's brothers, M. de Canrobert was a very
pleasant, sensible man. He entered the service at a very young age,
as a sous-lieutenant in the infantry of Ponthièvre, and, under
Lieutenant-general De Vaux, fought in all the campaigns of the war in
Corsica, in which he distinguished himself. After the conquest of
that country, he served out the twenty-four years which earned him
the Cross of St. Louis. He was a captain when he married Mlle.
Sanguinet and then retired to the Château of Laval de Cère.

Having become the father of a son and a daughter, M. de Canrobert
was living happily in his manor when the revolution broke out in
1789. He was forced to emigrate to escape the scaffold, with which he
was threatened, all his possessions were confiscated and sold, his
wife was imprisoned with her two young children. My mother obtained
permission to visit her unhappy sister-in-law, and found her in a
cold, damp tower, stricken by a fever, which carried off, that very
day, her young daughter. By dint of requests and supplications, my
mother managed to obtain the release of her sister-in-law; but she
died a few days later from the illness she had contracted in prison. 
My mother then took charge of the young boy, named Antoine. He was
sent in turn to college and then to the military school, where he
was one of their brightest pupils. Finally he became an infantry
officer and was killed, bravely, on the field of battle, at Waterloo.
My uncle was one of the first of the émigrés who, under the
consulate, were given permission to return to France. He recovered
some part of his estate, and married again, this time to one of the
daughters of M. Niocel, an old friend of the family.

M. Certain de l'Isle, the second of my mother's brothers, was one
of the most handsome men in France. At the time of the revolution he
was a lieutenant in the regiment of Ponthièvre, in which were also
serving his elder brother and several of his uncles. He took the
same course as nearly all his comrades and emigrated in company with
his younger brother, Certain de la Coste, who was in the King's
bodyguard. After leaving France the two brothers stayed always
together. They retreated first to the country of Baden, but their
tranquility was soon disturbed: the French armies crossed the Rhine,
and as all émigrés who fell into their clutches were shot, by order
of the Convention, the brothers were forced to hide hurriedly in the
interior of Germany. Lack of money compelled them to travel on foot,
which soon became too much for poor La Coste. They had great
difficulty in finding lodgings, as everywhere was occupied by
Austrian troops. La Coste became ill. His brother supported him. 
In this way they reached a little town in Wurtemberg, where they
found a bed in a low class tavern. At daybreak they saw the
Austrians leaving, and they were told that the French were about to
occupy the town. La Coste, unable to move, urged de l'Isle to look
to his own safety and to leave him to the care of Providence; but de
l'Isle declared solemnly that he would not abandon his sick brother.

However two French volunteers arrived at the inn with a requisition
for lodgings. The inn-keeper took them to the room occupied by my
two uncles, whom he told that they would have to leave. It has been
said, quite rightly, that during the Revolution, the honour of France
took refuge in the army. The two soldiers, seeing that La Coste was
ill, told the landlord that not only did they wish to keep him with
them, but that they wanted a large room which was on the first floor,
where they would establish themselves with my two uncles. In enemy
country, the victor being the master, the inn-keeper obeyed the two
French volunteers, who, during the two weeks in which their battalion
was billeted in the town, took great care of Messers La Coste and de
l'Isle, and even let them share in the good meals which their host
was obliged to provide in accordance with the usages of war; and this
comfortable regime, coupled with rest, restored to some extent, the
health of La Coste.

When they left, the volunteers, who belonged to a battalion from
the Gironde, wishing to give their new friends the means of passing
through the French columns without being arrested, took from their
uniforms the metal buttons which bore the name of their battalion,
and attached them to the civilian clothing worn by my uncles, who
could then pass themselves off as sutlers. With this new form of
passport, they went through all the French cantonments without
rousing any suspicion. They reached Prussia, and settled down in the
town of Hall, where De l'Isle was able to give French lessons. They
lived there peacefully until 1803, when my mother managed to have
them struck of the list of émigrés, and they returned to France after twelve years of exile.

Chap. 19.

Let us now return to Versailles. While I was on the course at the
school of cavalry, great events were under way in Europe. England
having broken the Treaty of Amiens, hostilities recommenced. The
First Consul resolved to take the initiative by leading an army onto
the soil of Great Britain, a daring and difficult undertaking, but
not impossible. To put it into operation, Napoleon, who had just
seized Hanover, the private property of the English monarchy,
stationed on the coasts of the North Sea and the Channel, several
army corps, and ordered the construction and assembly, at Boulogne
and neighbouring ports, of an immense number of barges and
flat-bottomed boats, on which he proposed to embark his troops.

All the armed forces were set in motion for this war. I regretted
that I was not involved; and being destined to carry back to my
regiment the knowledge I had acquired at the school, I saw myself
condemned to spend several years in the depot with a whip in my
hand, making recruits trot round on elderly horses, while my comrades
were fighting at the head of troops which I had trained. I did not
find this prospect very pleasant, but how was it to be changed? A
regiment must always be fed with recruits, and it was certain that my
colonel, having sent me to the school of cavalry to learn how to
train these recruits, would not deprive himself of the services which
I could render in this respect, and would keep me out of the fighting
squadrons. One day, however, as I was walking down the Avenue de
Paris, with my drill manual in my hand, I had a brilliant idea, which
totally changed my destiny and contributed greatly to my promotion to
the rank which I now occupy.

I had just learned that the First Consul, having fallen out with
the court of Lisbon, had ordered the formation, at Bayonne, of an
army corps destined to enter Portugal under the command of General
Augereau. I knew that General Augereau owed some of his advancement
to my father, under whose command he had served in the camp at
Toulouse and in the Pyrenees, and although what I had experienced at
Genoa after the death of my father had not given me a high
opinion of the gratitude of mankind, I resolved to write to him and,
having explained the predicament in which I found myself, ask him to
extricate me by taking me on as one of his aides-de-camp.

Having written this letter, I sent it to my mother, to see if she
approved. She not only approved, but knowing that Augereau was in
Paris, she decided to take the letter to him herself. Augereau
received the widow of his old friend with the greatest consideration;
he immediately took his carriage and went to the War Ministry, and
that same evening he handed to my mother my appointment as
aide-de-camp. Thus a wish, which twenty-four hours earlier had
seemed a dream, became a reality.

The following day I hurried to Paris to thank the general. He
received me most kindly, and ordered me to join him at Bayonne, to
where he was now going. It was now October, I had completed the
first course at the school of cavalry and had little interest in
starting on the second; so I was happy to leave Versailles, for I
felt sure that I was starting on a new career, much more advantageous
than that of a regimental instructor. I was quite right in thinking
this, for nine years later I was a colonel, while those I had left at
the school had hardly reached the rank of captain.

I reported promptly to Bayonne and took up my post as an
aide-de-camp to the commander-in-chief. He was installed a quarter
of a league from the town in the fine Château de Marac, in which the
Emperor lived some years later. I was made very welcome by General
Augereau and by my new comrades, his aides-de-camp, nearly all of
whom had served under my father. This general staff, although it did
not give to the army as many general officers as that of Bernadotte,
was nevertheless very well made up. General Danzelot who was the
chief-of-staff, was a highly capable man who later became the
governor of the Ionian islands and then Martinique. His second in
command was Colonel Albert, who at his death was general aide-de-camp
to the Duc d'Orléans. The aides-de-camp were Colonel Sicard, who
died at Heilsberg, Major Brame, who retired to Lille after the Peace
of Tilsit, Major Massy, killed as a colonel at Moscow, Captain
Chévetel and Lieutenant Mainville, the first of whom retired to his
estate in Brittany and the second ended his career in Bayonne. I was
the sixth and youngest of the aides-de-camp.

Finally the staff was completed by Dr. Raymond, who helped me
greatly at Eylau, and Colonel Augereau, a half-brother of the
general; a very quiet man, who later became a lieutenant general.

Chap. 20.

The greater part of the generals who made a name for themselves in
the early wars of the revolution having sprung from the lower ranks
of society, it has been supposed, wrongly, that they had received no
education, and that they owed their success solely to their fighting
ability. Augereau, in particular, has been very badly judged. He
has been represented as boastful, hard, noisy and nasty. This is an
error, for although he had a stormy youth, and fell into some
political misconceptions, he was kind, polite and affectionate, and I
can assure you that of the five marshals under whom I have served, it
was he who did most to lessen the evils of war, who was most
considerate toward the local populace and who treated his officers
best, among whom he lived like a father among his children. It is
true that he had a most irregular life, but before passing judgement
you must consider the conditions which existed at the time.

Pierre Augereau was born in Paris in 1757. His father had an
extensive business in the fruit trade and had acquired a large
fortune, which allowed him to give his children a good education. 
His mother was born in Munich, and she had the good sense to speak
nothing but German to her son, who, as a result spoke it perfectly;
something he found most useful in his travels, and also during the
wars.

Augereau was good-looking, large and well built. He loved all
physical activities, at which he excelled. He was a good horseman and
a fine swordsman. When he was seventeen his mother died, and one of
her brothers who worked in the office of Monsieur (the king's
brother) arranged for him to join the Carabiniers, of whom Monsieur
was colonel in chief.

He spent several years at Saumur, where the Carabiniers were
usually garrisoned, and where his efficiency and good conduct soon
raised him to the rank of sergeant. Sadly, there was at this time
a craze for duels. The reputation which Augereau had as an excellent
swordsman compelled him to engage in several, for it was a great
point among duelists not to accept that anyone was their superior;
gentlemen, officers and soldiers fought for the most futile of
reasons. It so happened that when Augereau was on leave in Paris,
the celebrated fencing master Saint-George, seeing him pass, said,
in the presence of several swordsmen, there is one of the finest
blades in France. Upon this, a sergeant of Dragoons named Belair,
who claimed to be next to Saint-George in ability, wrote to Augereau
saying that he would challenge him to fight unless he recognised the
writer's superiority. Augereau having replied that he would do
nothing of the sort, they met on the Champs-Elysées where Belair
received a penetrating sword-thrust. He subsequently recovered and
having left the service, he married and became the father of eight
children, for whom he was unable to provide. So in the first days of
the Empire it occurred to him to approach his old adversary, now a
marshal. This man, whom I knew, was something of an original
character; he presented himself before Augereau with a little violin
under his arm, and said that as he had nothing to give his eight
children for dinner, he would make them dance a quadrille to cheer
them up, unless the marshal could put him in the way of providing a
more substantial meal. Augereau recognised Belair, invited him to a
meal, gave him some money and a few days later arranged for him to
have a good job in the transport department. He also placed two of
his sons in school. Conduct which requires no commentary.

Not all the duels which Augereau fought ended like this. As a
result of an absurd custom, there existed an inveterate hatred
between some units, the cause for which was buried in the past and
often hardly known, but which, handed down from age to age, resulted
in duels every time the units met. In this way the Gendarmes of
Lunéville and the Carabiniers had been at war for half a century,
though they had not seen one another in this long period of time. At
last, at the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI, they found
themselves in the same camp at Compiègne; whereupon, to show
themselves no less brave than their forefathers, the Carabiniers and
the Gendarmes decided to fight, and their determination was such that
the officers thought it wiser to look the other way. However, to
avoid too much bloodshed, it was agreed that there would be only one
duel; each unit would select a combatant who would represent them,
and after that there would be a truce. The Carabiniers chose their
twelve best swordsmen, among whom was Augereau, and it was agreed
that the defender of the regimental honour should be chosen by lot. 
On that day fate was more blind than usual, for it selected a
sergeant by the name of Donnadieu, who had five children. Augereau
observed that the name of a father of a family should not have been
included in the draw, and asked if he might replace his comrade. 
Donnadieu declared that as his name had been chosen he would go
forward. Augereau insisted, and this battle of generosity was ended
only by the members of the meeting accepting Augereau's proposal. 
The name of the combatant chosen by the Gendarmes would soon be known
and after that it was merely a matter of arranging for the two
adversaries to meet, when a simulated quarrel would serve as a motive
for the encounter.

Augereau had a fearsome opponent, an excellent swordsman, a
professional duelist, who as a warm-up, awaiting the contest, had
killed two sergeants of the Guards, on the days previously. 
Augereau, without allowing himself to be intimidated by the
reputation of this bravo, went to the café where he knew he was to
appear, and while awaiting him sat down at a table. The Gendarme
arrived, and when his opponent had been pointed out to him, he pulled
aside his coat-tails, and sat down insolently on the table, his
backside not a foot from Augereau's face. Augereau was drinking a
cup of very hot coffee at the time and he gently eased back the
opening, called the ventouse, which existed then at the back of a
cavalryman's leather breeches, and poured the steaming liquid onto the
the buttocks of the impudent Gendarme, who turned round in a fury!
The quarrel having now been engaged upon, they went outside, followed
by a crowd of Gendarmes and Carabiniers. As they went along, the
ferocious Gendarme, to mock the man whom, he felt confident, would be
his victim, asked Augereau, in a bantering tone, whether he would
prefer to be buried in the town or in the country. "The country"
replied Augereau, "I have always liked the open air." "Fine," said
the gendarme, and, turning to his second, he said, "Put him with the
other two I killed yesterday and the day before." This was not very
encouraging, and anyone but Augereau might have been put out, but
determined to sell his life dearly, he defended himself with such
skill that his adversary lost his temper and made a false move, which
allowed Augereau, who had remained calm, to run him through, saying
that it was he who would be buried in the country.

The camp being ended, the Carabiniers returned to Saumur, where
Augereau was peacefully continuing his military service when a
disastrous event precipitated him into a life of high adventure.

A young officer of exalted birth, but with a very nasty temper,
having found something to complain about concerning the grooming of
horses, rounded on Augereau, and in an access of rage offered to
strike him with his riding whip in front of the whole squadron. 
Augereau indignantly seized the officer's whip and threw it away,
whereupon the latter, in a fury, drew his sword and confronted
Augereau, saying, "Defend yourself!" Augereau restricted himself
at first merely to parrying, but having been slightly wounded, he
made a riposte and the officer fell dead.

The general, Comte de Malseigne, who commanded the Carabiniers in
the name of Monsieur, was soon told of this affair, and although
eye-witnesses agreed in saying that Augereau, provoked by the most
unjustifiable attack, had legitimately defended himself, the general,
who favoured Augereau, thought it would be wiser to get him out of
the way. To do this he called on a Carabinier named Papon, a native
of Geneva whose term of service was due to expire in a few days, and
invited him to give his travel permit to Augereau, promising to give
him another one later. Papon agreed to this, and Augereau was always
most grateful to him, for when he arrived in Geneva, he learned that
the court-martial, in spite of the evidence of the witnesses, had
condemned him to death for raising his sword against an officer.

The Papon family had a business which exported a large number of
watches to the east. Augereau decided to go with a representative
whom they were sending there, and travelled with him to Greece, to
the Ionian islands, to Constantinople and the shores of the Black Sea.

He was in the Crimea when a Russian colonel, guessing from his
bearing that he had been a soldier, offered him the rank of sergeant.

Augereau accepted, and served for several years in the Russian army,
which the famous Souwaroff commanded in a war against the Turks, and
was wounded in the assault on Ismailoff.

When peace was made between the Porte and Russia, the regiment in
which Augereau was serving was ordered to go to Poland; but he did
not wish to stay any longer with the semi-barbarous Russians, so he
deserted and went to Prussia, where he served at first in the
regiment of Prince Henry, and then, on account of his height and good
looks, he was posted to the famous guards of Frederick the Great. He
was there for two years, and his captain had led him to hope for
promotion, when one day the king, who was reviewing his guards
stopped in front of him and said, "There is a fine looking
Grenadier!....Where does he come from?" "He is French sire," came
the reply. "Too bad," said Frederick, who had come to detest the
French as much as he had once liked them. "Too bad. If he had been
Swiss or German we could have made something of him".

Augereau, from then on, was convinced he would get nowhere in
Prussia, since he had heard it from the lips of the king himself, and
so he resolved to leave the country. This was a very difficult
matter, because as soon as the desertion of a soldier was signalised
by the firing of a cannon, the population set off in pursuit of him,
in the hope of obtaining the promised reward, and the deserter when
captured was invariably shot.

In order to avoid this fate and to regain his liberty, Augereau,
who knew that a good one third of the guards, foreigners like
himself, had only one wish, and that was to get out of Prussia, spoke
with some sixty of the most daring, to whom he pointed out that a
single deserter had no chance of escape, since it required only two
or three men to arrest him, so that it was essential to leave in a
body with arms and ammunition for defence. This is what they did,
under the leadership of Augereau.

This determined group of men, attacked on their way by peasants,
and even a detachment of soldiers, lost several of their company, but
killed many of their adversaries, and in one night they reached a
small area of the country of Saxony which is not more than ten
leagues from Potsdam. Augereau went to Dresden, where he gave
lessons in dancing and fencing, until the birth of the first Dauphin,
the son of Louis XVI, an event which the government celebrated by
granting an amnesty to all deserters, which allowed Augereau not only
to return to Paris, but to rejoin the Carabiniers, his sentence
having been quashed, and General de Malseigne having insisted that he
was one of the finest N.C.O.s in the corps.

In 1788, the King of Naples, feeling the need to put his army on a
good footing, requested the King of France to send him a number of
officers and N.C.O.s to act as instructors, whom he undertook to
promote to a rank above their present one on their arrival. Augereau
was included in this party and was promoted to sous-lieutenant. He
served there for several years, and had just been promoted to
lieutenant, when he fell in love with the daughter of a Greek
merchant. When her father refused his consent to the union, the two
lovers were married in secret, and embarking on the first vessel they
found about to leave, they went to Lisbon, where they lived
peacefully for some time.

It was now the end of 1792; the French Revolution was spreading
rapidly, and all the sovereign heads of Europe feared the
introduction of these new principles into their states, and were
suspicious of everything French. Augereau has often assured me that
during his stay in Portugal he never said or did anything which could
alarm the government, nevertheless, he was arrested and incarcerated
in the prison of the Inquisition.

He had been languishing there for several months, when Madame
Augereau, his wife, a woman of courage, saw come into the harbour a
ship flying the tricolour. She went on board to give the captain a
letter, informing the French government of the arbitrary arrest of
her husband. The captain, although not a naval officer, went boldly
to the Portuguese ministry and demanded the release of his
compatriot; failing which, he said that he would declare war in the
name of France. Whether the Portuguese believed this, or whether
they realised that they had acted unjustly, they set Augereau free,
and he and his wife went back to Havre in the ship of the gallant
captain.

On his arrival in Paris, Augereau was designated captain, and was
sent to the Vendée, where by his advice and example he saved the army
of the incompetent General Ronsin, which gained him the rank of
battalion commander. Sick of fighting his fellow Frenchmen, Augereau
asked to be posted to the Pyrenees, and was sent to the camp at
Toulouse commanded by my father, who, recognising his ability, made
him adjutant-general, (That is colonel of the general staff), and
showed him many marks of affection, something which Augereau never
forgot. Having become general, he distinguished himself in the wars
in Spain and Italy, and in particular, at Castiglione.

On the eve of this battle, the French army, beset on all sides,
found itself in a most critical position, and the commander-in-chief,
Bonaparte, called a council of war; the only one he ever consulted. 
All the generals, even Masséna, proposed a retreat, but Augereau,
having explained what, in his opinion, could be done to get out of
the situation, said, "Even if you all go, I shall stay here and will
attack the enemy, with my division, at dawn." Bonaparte, impressed by
the arguments which Augereau had put forward, then said that he would
stay with him. After which there was no more talk of retreat, and the
next day a brilliant victory, due in large part to the courage and
tactical skill of Augereau, established, for a long time, the
position of the French army in Italy. Bonaparte was always mindful
of this day, and when, as Emperor, he created a new nobility, he
named Augereau Duc de Castiglione.

When General Hoche died, Augereau replaced him in the army of the
Rhine. After the establishment of the consulate, he was put in
charge of an army composed of French and Dutch troops which fought
the campaign of 1800 in Franconia, and won the battle of
Burg-Eberach.

When peace had been declared, he bought the estate and château of
La Houssaye. I may say, in regard to this purchase, that there has
been much exaggeration of the fortunes of some generals of the army
of Italy. Augereau, after having held for twenty years the rank of
commander-in-chief, or of marshal, and having enjoyed for seven years
a salary of two hundred thousand francs, and an award of twenty-five
thousand francs, due to his Legion of Honour, left at his death an
income of no more than forty-eight thousand francs.

There was never a man more generous, unselfish and obliging. I
could give a number of examples, but will limit myself to two. 
General Bonaparte, after his elevation to the consulate, created a
large unit of Guards, the infantry portion of which was placed under
the command of General Lannes. Lannes was a distinguished soldier,
but had no understanding of administration. Instead of conforming to
the tariff laid down for the purchase of clothing, fabrics and other
items, nothing was too good for him; so that the suppliers of
clothing and equipment to the guards, delighted to be able to deal by
mutual agreement with the manufacturers, (in order to get
back-handers,) and believing that their malversations would be
covered by the name of General Lannes, the friend of the First
Consul, made uniforms in such luxurious style that when the accounts
were drawn up, they exceeded by three hundred thousand francs the sum
allowed by the ministerial regulations. The First Consul, who had
resolved to restore order to the finances, and to compel commanders
not to go beyond the permitted expenditure, decided to make an
example. In spite of his affection for Lannes, and his certainty that
not a centime had gone into his pocket, he held him responsible for
the deficit of three hundred thousand francs, and gave him no more
than eight days to pay this sum into the Guard's account, or face
court-martial.

This uncompromising ruling had an excellent effect in putting an
end to the extravagance which had got into unit accounting, but
General Lannes, although he had recently married the daughter of a
senator, had no hope of making this payment. When General Augereau
heard of the fix in which his friend found himself, he went to his
lawyer, drew out the sum required, and instructed his secretary to
pay it into the Guard's account, in the name of General Lannes. When
the First Consul heard of this, he warmly approved of what Augereau
had done, and to put Lannes in a position to pay him back, he had him
sent to Lisbon as ambassador, a very lucrative post.

Here is another example of Augereau's generosity. He was not a
close friend of General Bernadotte, who had bought the estate of
Lagrange, for which he expected to pay with his wife's dowry; but
there was some delay in the transfer of this money, and his creditors
were pressing him, so he asked Augereau to lend him two hundred
thousand francs for five years. Augereau having agreed to this,
Madame Bernadotte took it on herself to ask what rate of interest he
would expect. He replied that although bankers and businessmen
required interest on money which they lent, when a marshal was in the
happy position of being able to help a comrade, he should not expect
any reward but the pleasure of being of service. That is the man whom
some have represented as being hard and avaricious. At this moment,
I shall say nothing more about the life of Augereau, which will
unroll itself in the course of my story, which will show up his
faults as well as his fine qualities.

Chap. 21.

Let us now go back to Bayonne, where I had just joined Augereau's
staff. The winter, in this part of the country, is very mild; which
allowed us to train and exercise troops in preparation for an attack
on the Portuguese. However, the court of Lisbon having conceded all
that the French government required, we gave up the idea of crossing
the Pyrenees, and General Augereau was ordered to go to Brest and
take command of the 7th army corps, which was earmarked for an
invasion of Ireland.

General Augereau's first wife, the Greek, being in Pau, he wished
to visit her and take his leave of her, and he took with him three
aides-de-camp, of which I was one.

Normally, a commander-in-chief had a squadron of "Guides", a
detachment of which always escorted his carriage, as long as he was
in a part of the country occupied by troops under his command. 
Bayonne did not yet have any "Guides," so they were replaced by a
platoon of cavalry at each of the post-houses between Bayonne and
Pau. These came from the regiment which I had just left, the 25th
Chasseurs; so that from the carriage in which I was taking my ease,
beside the Commander in Chief, I could see my former companions
trotting beside the door. I did not take any pride in this, but I must admit that when we came to Puyoo, where you saw me arrive two years previously  on foot, bedraggled and in the hands of the gendarmerie, I was weak enough to put on an air, and to make myself known to the worthy
mayor, Bordenave, whom I presented to the commander-in-chief to whom
I had told the story of what had happened to me in this commune in
1801; and as the brigade of gendarmes from Pyrehorade had joined the
escort to Pau, I was able to recognise the two who had arrested me. 
The old mayor was sufficiently malicious to inform them that the
officer whom they saw in the commander-in-chief's fine carriage was
the same traveller whom they had taken for a deserter, although his
papers were in order, and the good fellow was, at the same time, very
proud of the judgement he had given on this occasion.

After a stay of twenty-four hours at Pau, we returned to Bayonne,
from where the general despatched me and Mainville to Brest, in order
to prepare his headquarters. We took seats in the mail-coach as far
as Bordeaux; but there, owing to the lack of public transport, we
were forced to take to the hacks of the posting houses, which of all
means of travelling, is surely the most uncomfortable. It rained. 
The roads were appalling. The nights pitch dark; but in spite of
this, we had to press on at the gallop, as our mission was urgent. 
Although I have never been a very good horseman, the fact that I was
accustomed to riding, and a year spent in the riding school at
Versailles, gave me enough assurance and stamina to drive on the
dreadful screws which we were forced to mount. I got well enough
through this apprenticeship in the trade of courier, in which, you
will see later, I had to perfect myself; but it was not so with
Mainville, so we took two days and two nights to reach Nantes, where
he arrived bruised and worn out and incapable of continuing to ride
at speed. However we could not leave the commander-in-chief without
lodgings when he arrived at Brest, so it was agreed that I would go
on ahead, and that Mainville would follow later by coach.

On my arrival, I rented the town house of M. Pasquier, the banker,
brother of the Pasquier who had been chancellor and president of the
house of peers. Mainville and several of my comrades came to join me
a few days later, and helped to make the necessary arrangements for
the commander-in-chief to maintain the sort of state expected of him.

We began the year 1804 at Brest. The 7th Corps was made up of two
divisions of infantry and a brigade of cavalry; as these troops were
not encamped but were billeted in the neighbouring communes, all the
generals and their staffs stayed in Brest, where the anchorages and
the harbour were packed with vessels of all sorts. The admirals and
senior officers of the fleet were also in the town, and other
officers came there every day, so that Brest afforded a most animated
spectacle. Admiral Truguet and the commander-in-chief held a number
of brilliant receptions, scenes that have often been the prelude to
war.

In February General Augereau left for Paris, to where the First
Consul had summoned him to discuss with him the plan for the invasion
of Ireland. I went with him.

On our arrival in Paris, we found a very tense political
situation. The Bourbons, who had hoped that in taking the reins of
government, Bonaparte would support them, and would be prepared to
play the part that General Monk had once played in England, when
they discovered that he had no intention of restoring them to the
throne, resolved to overthrow him. To this end they concocted a
conspiracy which had as its leaders three well known men, although of
very different character. These were General Pichegru, General Moreau
and Georges Cadoudal.

Pichegru had taught Bonaparte mathematics at the college of
Brienne, but he had left there to join the army. The revolution
found him a sergeant in the artillery. His talent and courage raised
him rapidly to the rank of general. It was he who achieved the
conquest of Holland, in the middle of winter, but ambition was his
downfall. He allowed himself to be seduced by agents of the Prince
de Condé, and entered into correspondence with the Prince, who
promised him great rewards and the title of "Constable" if he would
use the influence which he had with the troops to establish Louis
XVIII on the throne of his forefathers.

Chance, that great arbiter of human destiny, decreed that
following a battle in which French troops, commanded by Moreau, had
defeated the division of the Austrian General Kinglin, the latter's
supply wagon was captured, which contained letters from Pichegru to
the Prince de Condé. It was taken to Moreau, who was a friend of
Pichegru, to whom he owed some of his promotion, and who concealed
his discovery as long as Pichegru retained his influence; but
Pichegru having become a representative of the people in the house of
elders, where he continued to favour the Bourbons, was arrested with
several of his colleagues. Whereupon Moreau hurriedly sent to the
directorate the documents which incriminated Pichegru, and led to his
deportation to the wilds of Guyana.

Pichegru contrived to escape from Guyana to America, from whence
he went to England; where having no longer any need for secrecy, he
put himself openly in the pay of Louis XVIII and aimed at the
overthrow of the consular government. However, he could not pretend
that, deprived of his rank, banished and absent from France for more
than six years, he could any longer wield as much influence over the
army as General Moreau, the victor of Hohenlinden, and on this
account, very popular with the troops, of whom he was the
inspector-general. Pichegru, then, out of devotion to the Bourbon
cause, agreed to forget the reasons he had for disliking Moreau, and
to unite with him for the triumph of the policy to which he was
committed.
Moreau, who was born in Brittany, was studying law at Rennes when
the revolution of 1789 broke out. The students, young and turbulent,
elected him as their leader, and when they formed a battalion of
volunteers, they named Moreau as their commander. Having made his
début in the profession of arms as a senior officer, he proved
himself both courageous and competent, and was rapidly promoted to
general and army commander. He won several battles, and conducted,
in the face of Prince Charles of Austria, a justly celebrated
retreat. But though a good soldier, Moreau lacked civic courage. We
have seen him refuse to put himself at the head of the government,
while Bonaparte was absent in Egypt, however, though he had helped
the latter on the 18th Brumaire, he became envious of his power when
he saw him raised to the position of First Consul, to the extent that
he sought by all means to supplant him; driven on, it is said, by the
jealousy felt by his wife and mother-in-law towards Josephine. Given
this situation, it would not be difficult to persuade Moreau to
conspire with Pichegru to overthrow the government.

A Breton, named Lajolais, an agent of Louis XVIII, and a friend of
Moreau, became the intermediary between him and Pichegru; he
travelled frequently between London and Paris, and it soon became
evident to him that Moreau, while agreeing to the overthrow of
Bonaparte, intended to keep power for himself, and not to hand it to
the Bourbons. It was then thought that a meeting between him and
Pichegru might lead him to change his mind, so Pichegru was landed on
the coast of France from an English vessel at a spot near Trepot,
and went to Paris, to where Georges Cadoudal had preceded him, along
with M. de Rivière, the two Polignacs, and other royalists.

Georges Cadoudal was the youngest son of a miller from Morbihan;
but as there was a bizarre custom, in that part of lower Brittany,
whereby the last-born of a family inherited all the estate, Georges,
whose father was comfortably off, had been given a certain amount of
education. He was a short man, with wide shoulders and the heart of
a tiger, whose audacity and courage had raised him to the high
command of all the groups of "Chouans" in Brittany.

Since the pacification of Brittany he had lived in London; but
his fanatical devotion to the house of Bourbon did not allow him any
repose as long as the First Consul was at the head of the government. He formed a plan to kill him. Not by a clandestine assassination,
but in broad daylight, by attacking him on the road to Saint-Cloud
with a party of thirty or forty mounted "Chouans" well armed and
wearing the uniform of the consular guard. This plan had the more
chance of success, since, at this time, Bonaparte's escort was
usually no more than four cavalrymen.

A meeting was arranged between Pichegru and Moreau; it took place
at night, near the Church of La Madeleine, which was then being
built. Moreau agreed to the deposition, and even the death of the
First Consul, but he refused to consider the restoration of the
Bourbons.

Bonaparte's secret police having warned him that there was
underground plotting going on in Paris, he ordered the arrest of a
number of former "Chouans" who were in the city. One of these gave
some information which seriously compromised General Moreau, whose
arrest was then agreed upon by the council of ministers.

This arrest initially created a very bad impression amongst the
general public, because Cadoudal and Pichegru not having been
arrested, no one believed they were in France, and it was said that
Bonaparte had invented the conspiracy in order to get rid of Moreau.
The government then had the strongest reasons to prove that Cadoudal
and Pichegru were in Paris, and that they had met Moreau. All the
barriers were closed for several days, and the most drastic
punishment was decreed for anyone sheltering the conspirators. From
that moment it became very difficult for them to find any place of
safety, and soon Pichegru, M. de Rivière and the Polignacs fell into
the hands of the police. These arrests began to convince the public
of the reality of the conspiracy, and the capture of Georges Cadoudal
dispelled any remaining doubts.

Cadoudal having stated in his interrogation that he had come with
the intention of killing the First Consul, and that the conspiracy
was backed by a prince of the royal family, the police started an
investigation to discover the location of all the princes of the
house of Bourbon. They found that the Prince D'Enghien, the grandson
of the great Condé, had been living for some time at Ettenheim, a
little town situated some leagues from the Rhine, in the country of
Baden. It has never been proved that the Duc D'Enghien was involved
in the conspiracy, but he certainly had, on several occasions, been
imprudent enough to enter French territory. However that may be, the
First Consul sent, secretly, and by night, a detachment of troops led
by General Ordener, to the town of Ettenhiem, where they seized the
Duc D'Enghien. He was taken immediately to Vincennes, where he was
tried, condemned, and shot before the public was aware of his arrest.

This execution was greeted with general disapproval. It was held
that had the prince been captured on French territory, he could have
been tried under a law which in this case carried the death penalty,
but that to go and seize him beyond the frontiers, in a foreign land,
was a gross infringement of human rights.

It appeared, however, that the First Consul had not intended the
execution of the prince, and had wished only to frighten the
royalists who were conspiring against him; but that General Savary,
the head of the gendarmerie, who had gone to Vincennes, took custody
of the prince after sentence had been pronounced and in an excess of
zeal, had him shot, in order, he said, to save the First Consul the
trouble of ordering his death, or of sparing the life of so dangerous
an enemy. Savary has since denied that he expressed such sentiments,
but I have been assured by people who heard him that he did.
Bonaparte is known to have blamed Savary for his hastiness, but the
deed having been done, he had to accept the consequences.

General Pichegru, ashamed to be associated with assassins, and
that the conqueror of Holland should stand in the dock with
criminals, hanged himself in prison by his cravat. It has been
claimed that he was strangled by Mamelukes of the Guard, but this is
a fabrication. Bonaparte had no incentive to commit such a crime. 
It was more in his interest to have Pichegru disgraced before a
public tribunal than to have him killed in secret.

Georges Cadoudal, condemned to death, along with several
accomplices, was executed. The brothers Polignac, and M. de Rivière,
who received the same sentence, had it commuted to life imprisonment.
They were locked up in Vincennes, but after several years they
obtained permission to live on parole in a nursing home. However,
in 1814, on the approach of the allies, they left and went to join
the Comte d'Artois in Franche-comté; then in 1815 they were most
savage in their pursuit of the Bonapartists.

As for General Moreau, he was sentenced to two years detention. 
The First Consul pardoned him on condition that he went to the United
States. He lived there in obscurity until 1813, when he went to
Europe to range himself among the enemies of his country, and died
fighting against the French; thus confirming all the accusations
which were made against him at the time of Pichegru's conspiracy.

The French nation, weary of revolutions, and recognising the
extent to which Bonaparte was needed for the maintenance of good
order, chose to forget what was odious in the affair of the Duc
d'Enghien, and raised Bonaparte to the throne, by declaring him
Emperor on May 25th, 1804.

Almost all nations recognised the new sovereign of France. To
mark the occasion, eighteen generals, selected from the most notable,
were elevated to the dignity of Marshals of the Empire.

Chap. 22.

After the trial of Moreau, we returned to Brest, from where we
shortly came back to Paris, as the marshal had to assist in the
distribution of the decoration of the Legion d'Honneur, an award
which the Emperor had recently instituted for the recognition of all
sorts of meritorious actions. In this connection I recall an
anecdote which was widely circulated at the time. In order to bestow
the award on all these soldiers who had distinguished themselves in
the Republican armies, the Emperor took into consideration all those
who had been given Armes d'Honneur, and he selected a great number of
these for the Legion d'Honneur, although several of them had returned
to civilian life. M. de Narbonne, a returned émigré, was living
quietly in Paris in the Rue de Miromesnil, in the house next to my
mother's, when, on the day that the medals were distributed, he
discovered that his footman, a former soldier in Egypt, had just been
decorated. Being about to dine, he sent for the footman and said to
him, "It is not right that a recipient of the Legion d'Honneur
should hand round plates; and it would be even less right that you
should put aside your decoration to serve at table. Sit down with me
and we shall dine together, and tomorrow you shall go to my country
estate where you shall be a game-keeper. An occupation which is not
incompatible with wearing your decoration."

When the Emperor was told of this display of good taste, he sent
for M. de Narbonne, whom he had wanted to meet for a long time, having
heard so much about his wit and intelligence, and was so pleased with
him that he made him an aide-de-camp.

After distributing the crosses in Paris, the Emperor went, for the
same purpose, to the camp at Boulogne, where the troops were drawn up
in a semi-circle facing the sea. The ceremony was imposing. The
Emperor appeared for the first time on a throne, surrounded by his
marshals. The enthusiasm was indescribable! The English fleet who
could see what was going on, sent several light vessels in an attempt
to disrupt the event by a cannonade, but our coastal batteries
briskly returned their fire.

There was a story current at the time which related that, after
the ceremony was over, the Emperor was returning to Boulogne followed
by his marshals and an immense retinue, when he stopped in the
shelter of one of these batteries, and calling to Marmont, who had
served in the artillery, said "Let us see if we can remember our old
trade and land a bomb on that English brig." And dismissing the
corporal who was in charge of the weapon, the Emperor aimed and fired
at the vessel. The bomb brushed the vessel's sails and fell into the
sea. Marmont tried but with no better fortune. The Emperor then
recalled the corporal to his post and the latter took aim and fired
with such effect that he landed a bomb on the brig, which promptly
sank, to the great delight of the onlookers, whereupon Napoleon
pinned a medal to the soldier's uniform. How much truth there is in
this tale, I do not know.
I shared in the favours being distributed on that day. I had been
a sous-lieutenant for five and a half years, and had been through
several campaigns. The Emperor, at the request of Augereau promoted
me to lieutenant; but for a moment I thought he was going to refuse
me this rank, for remembering that a Marbot had figured in the
conspiracy of Rennes, he frowned when the marshal spoke up for me
and, looking closely at me he said "Is it you who...?" "No sire,
it is not me who!..." I replied. "Ah!" he said, "you are the one who
was at Genoa and Marengo. I appoint you lieutenant."

The Emperor also granted me a place at the military school of
Fontainebleau for my younger brother, Félix, and from that day on he
no longer confused me with my elder brother for whom he always had
antipathy, though Adolphe had done nothing to deserve it.

As the troops of 7th Corps were not concentrated in an encampment,
Marshal Augereau's presence in Brest was of very little use; so he
was given permission to spend the rest of the summer and the autumn
at his fine estate of La Houssaye, near Tournan, in Brie. I even
suspect that the Emperor preferred to have him there rather than in
the depths of Brittany at the head of a large army. However, any
doubts which the Emperor may have had about Augereau's loyalty were
without foundation, and arose from the underground plots of a General
S....

S.... was a brigadier-general serving in 7th Corps. A capable
officer, but over-ambitious. He was regarded as untrustworthy by his
fellow generals, who did not associate with him. Angered by this
rejection, and bent on revenge, he sent to the Emperor a letter in
which he denounced all the generals, as well as the marshal, as
conspiring against the empire. Napoleon, to his credit, did not
employ any secret means to ascertain the truth: he simply passed the
general's letter on to Marshal Augereau. The marshal felt sure that
nothing serious was going on in his army; however as he knew that
several generals and colonels had engaged in some thoughtless talk,
he resolved to put an end to this sort of thing. As he did not wish
to jeopardize the career of those officers to whom he intended to
deliver a rebuke, he thought it would be best if his words were
carried by an aide-de-camp, and he chose to take me into his
confidence for this important mission.

I left La Housaye in August, in very hot weather, and rode at full
speed the one hundred and sixty leagues between the château and the
town of Brest, and as many again on the way back. I stayed no more
than twenty-four hours in the town, so I arrived back completely worn
out, for I think that there is no more exhausting job than riding
rapidly on horseback from post-house to post-house. I had found
things a good deal more serious than the marshal had thought; there
was, in fact a considerable ferment in the army, but the message I
had brought calmed down the generals, almost all of whom were devoted
to the marshal.

I was beginning to recover from my exertions when the marshal
said to me one morning, that the generals wanted to denounce S.... 
as a spy. He added that it was absolutely essential that he sent one
of his aides-de-camp, and he wanted to know if I felt able to make
the journey again. He said he would not order me to go, but would
leave it to me to decide whether I could do it or not. If it had
been merely a matter of reward or even promotion, I think I would
have refused the task, but it was a question of obliging my father's
friend, who had welcomed me with so much kindness, so I said that I
would be ready to go in an hour's time. I was worried that I might
not be able to complete the journey, because of the extremely tiring
nature of this form of travel; I rested for no more than two hours
out of the twenty-four, when I flung myself down on a heap of straw
in the post-house stables. It was fearfully hot weather, but I
managed to reach Brest and return without accident, and had the
satisfaction of being able to tell the marshal that the generals
would limit themselves to expressing their mistrust of S....

General S... being now discredited, deserted and went to England,
and is said to have wandered over Europe for twenty years before
dying in poverty.

After my second return from Brest, the marshal rewarded me by
putting me in direct contact with the Emperor. He sent me to
Fontainebleau to meet Napoleon and conduct him to La Houssaye, where
he was to spend a day in the company of several of his marshals. It
was while walking with them and discussing his plans, and the manner
in which he intended to uphold his dignity and theirs, that he
presented each of them with a sum of money sufficient for them to
purchase a mansion in Paris. Marshal Augereau bought that of
Rochechouart, in the Rue Grenelle-St-Germain, which is today occupied
by the ministry of information. The mansion was superb, but the
marshal preferred to stay at La Houssaye, where he kept up a great
state; for over and above his aides-de-camp, each of whom had his own
apartments, the number of invited guests was always considerable. 
One enjoyed complete liberty; the marshal allowed his guests to do as
they pleased, provided that no noise reached the wing of the château
occupied by his wife.

This excellent woman, who had become a chronic invalid, lived very
quietly, and appeared only rarely at the table or in the salon, but
when she did, far from constraining our high spirits, she took
pleasure in encouraging them.

She had with her two extraordinary lady companions. The first of
these always wore men's clothing, and was known by the name of
Sans-gene. She was the daughter of one of the leaders who, in 1793,
defended Lyon against the forces of the convention. She escaped, with
her father, both of them disguised as soldiers, and took refuge in
the ranks of the 9th Dragoon regiment; where they assumed nommes de
guerre and took part in campaigning.

Mlle. Sans-Gene, who combined with her masculine attire and
appearance, a most manly courage, received several wounds, one of
them at Castiglione, where her regiment was part of Augereau's
division. General Bonaparte, who had often witnessed the prowess of
this remarkable woman, when he became First Consul, gave her a
pension and a position beside his wife; but life at court did not
suit Mlle. San-Gene. She left Mme. Bonaparte, who by mutual consent
handed her over to Mme. Augereau to whom she became secretary and
reader. The second lady companion of Mme. Augereau was the widow of
the sculptor Adam, and in spite of her eighty years was the life and
soul of the château.

Noisy parties and practical jokes were the order of the day at
this period of time, particularly at La Houssaye, whose proprietor
was not happy unless he could see his guests and the younger members
of his staff gay and animated. The marshal came back to Paris in
November; the time for the coronation was drawing near and already
the Pope, who had come for the ceremony, was at the Tuileries. A
crowd of magistrates and deputations from various departments had
collected in the capital, where also were all the colonels of the
army, with detachments from their regiments, to whom the Emperor
distributed, on the Champ de Mars, the eagles, which became so
celebrated. Paris, resplendent, displayed a luxury hitherto unknown. 
The court of the new Emperor became the most brilliant in the world;
everywhere were fêtes, balls, and joyous assemblies.

The coronation took place on the 2nd December. I accompanied the
marshal at this ceremony, which I shall not describe, since the
details are so well known. Some days later the marshals held a ball
in honour of the Emperor and Empress. There were eighteen marshals,
and Marshal Duroc, although he was only Prefect of the Palace, joined
with them, which made nineteen subscribers, each one of whom paid up
25,000 francs for the expenses of the event, which therefore cost
475000 francs. The ball took place in the great ballroom of the
Opera, where never before had something so magnificent been seen. 
General Samson of the engineers was the organiser; the aides-de-camp
acted as stewards, to welcome the guests and to distribute tickets.
Everyone in Paris wanted one, so the aides were overwhelmed by
letters and requests. I never had so many friends! Everything went
off perfectly, and the Emperor appeared very pleased. So we ended
the year 1804 in the midst of celebrations, and entered the year
1805, which was to be a year of many important events.

In order that his army could participate in the general
jollifications, Marshal Augereau went to Brest, in spite of the
rigours of winter, and gave a number of magnificent balls, at which
he entertained a succession of officers, and even a good number of
soldiers. At the beginning of spring, he returned to La Houssaye to
await the moment for the invasion of England.

This expedition, which was regarded as chimerical, was, however,
on the point of realisation. The presence of an English squadron of
about fifteen ships, cruising endlessly in the Channel, made it
impossible to transport a French army to England in boats and barges
which would have sunk on the least contact with a larger vessel; but
the Emperor could dispose of sixty ships of the line, either French
or foreign, dispersed in the harbours of Brest, Lorient, Rochefort,
Le Ferrol, and Cadiz; it was a matter of concentrating them,
unexpectedly, in the Channel, and crushing, by a greatly superior
force, the little English squadron, to become masters of the passage,
if only for three days.

To achieve this, the Emperor ordered Admiral Villeneuve, the
commander-in-chief of all these forces, to gather together, from the
French and Spanish ports whatever ships were available, and head, not
for Boulogne, but for Martinique, to where it was certain the
English fleet would follow him. While the English were making their
way to the Antilles, Villeneuve was to quit the islands, and
returning round the north of Scotland, was to enter the eastern end
of the channel with sixty ships, which would easily overcome the
fifteen which the English maintained before Boulogne, and so put
Napoleon in command of the crossing; while the English, on their
arrival at the Antilles, would search around for Admiral Villeneuve's
fleet, and thus waste valuable time.

A part of this fine plan was now put into action. Villeneuve left,
with not sixty, but some thirty ships. He reached Martinique. The
English, led astray, hurried to the Antilles, which Admiral
Villeneuve had left, but the French admiral, instead of returning via
Scotland, made for Cadiz in order to pick up the Spanish fleet, as
if thirty ships were not enough to overcome or chase away the fifteen
English vessels!

That, however, is not all. Having arrived at Cadiz, Villeneuve
spent a great deal of time repairing his ships; time during which the
enemy fleet also returned to Europe, and established a patrolling
force off Cadiz. In the end, the coming of the equinox gales having
made sailing from this port difficult, Villeneuve found himself
blockaded; so the ingenious plans of the Emperor came to nothing, and
he, realising that the English would not be taken in a second time,
gave up the idea of invading Britain, or at least postponed it
indefinitely, and turned his attention to the continent.

Before I recount the principal events of this long war, and the
part which I played in it, I must describe a terrible misfortune
which befell the family.

My brother, Félix, who was at the military school of
Fontainebleau, was a little short-sighted; he had, therefore,
hesitated before taking up a military career; nevertheless, once
embarked on it, he worked with such enthusiasm that he soon became a
sergeant-major, a position difficult to maintain in a school. The
pupils, an unruly lot, were in the habit of burying in the earth of
the fortifications which they were digging, the implements which had
been issued to them for the work. General Bellavene, the head of the
school, a very strict man, ordered that the implements should be
issued to the sergeant-majors, who would then be accountable for
them.

One day, my brother, having seen a pupil bury a pick, rebuked him.
The pupil replied very rudely and added that in a few days they
would be leaving school, and being then the equal of his
sergeant-major, he would demand satisfaction for the reprimand. My
brother replied indignantly that there was no need to wait so long.

Lacking swords, they used compasses fixed to wooden batons:
Jacqueminot, who later became a lieutenant-general, was my brother's
second. My brother's poor eyesight put him at a disadvantage, but he
succeeded in wounding his opponent, though he received in return a
wound which penetrated his right arm. His companions dressed it
secretly.

By an unhappy coincidence, the Emperor had come to Fontainebleau,
and had decided to conduct manoeuvres for several hours, under a
blazing sun. My poor brother, compelled to run without rest, his arm
dragged down by the weight of his heavy musket, was overcome by the
heat and his wound re-opened! He should have fallen out on the
pretext of an indisposition, but he was in front of the Emperor who,
at the end of the session, would distribute the commissions of
sous-lieutenant, so eagerly desired. Félix made superhuman efforts
to resist, but at last his strength failed him and he collapsed and
was carried away in a most serious condition.

General Bellavene sent an unfeeling message to my mother, saying
that if she wished to see her son, she must come immediately, for he
was dying. My mother was so distressed by this news, that she was
unable to make the journey. I posted there as quickly as I could,
but on my arrival I was told that my brother was dead. Marshal
Augereau did all that he could for us, in these unhappy
circumstances, and the Emperor sent the marshal of the palace, Duroc,
to convey his condolences to my mother.

All too soon another source of sadness would come to afflict her;
I would be forced to leave her, as war was about to break out on the
continent.

At a time when it might have been thought that the Emperor had the
greatest need to be at peace with the continental powers, in order to
execute his design for the invasion of England, he issued a decree
whereby he annexed the state of Genoa to France. This was greatly to
the advantage of the English, who profited from this decision to
frighten all the peoples of the continent, to whom they represented
Napoleon as aspiring to become the master of the whole of Europe. 
Austria and Russia declared war on us, Prussia, more circumspect,
made preparations, but as yet, said nothing.

The Emperor had no doubt foreseen these reactions, and a wish to
see hostilities break out perhaps underlay his seizure of Genoa; for,
despairing of ever seeing Villeneuve in control of the channel, he
wanted a continental war to deflect the ridicule to which his
proposed invasion, threatened for three years, but never put into
action, might have exposed him by displaying his impotence in the
face of England. The new coalition extricated him nicely from an
awkward situation.

Three years under arms had had an excellent effect on our
soldiers. France had never had an army so well trained, so well
organised, so keen for action, nor a leader in control of so much
power and such moral and material resources, who was so skillful in
their employment. So Napoleon accepted the outbreak of war with
pleasure, so confident was he of conquering his enemies, and of
making use of their defeat to strengthen his position on the throne;
for he knew the enthusiasm which the prospect of military triumph
always stirred up in the martial French spirit.

Chap. 23.

The great army which the Emperor was about to set in motion
against Austria, now had its back to that Empire, since the forces
deployed on the coasts of the North Sea, the Channel and the Atlantic
were facing England. On the right wing the 1st Corps, commanded by
Bernadotte, occupied Hanover; the 2nd, under the orders of Marmont,
was in Holland; the 3rd under Davout was in Bruges; the 4th, 5th and
6th commanded by Soult, Lannes and Ney, were encamped at Boulogne and
in the surrounding district, while finally the 7th commanded by
Augereau was in Brest, and formed the extreme left.

To break up this long cordon of troops and form them into a large
body which could march toward Austria, it was necessary to effect an
immense turn round from front to back. Each army had to make an
about turn, in order to face Germany, and form columns, to march
there by the shortest route. Thus the right wing became the left,
and the left the right.

Obviously, to go from Hanover or Holland to the Danube, the 1st
and 2nd Corps had a much shorter distance to travel than those who
came from Boulogne, and they in turn were nearer than Augereau's
corps, which, in order to go from Brest to the frontiers of
Switzerland on the upper Rhine, had to cross the whole of France, a
journey of some three hundred leagues. The troops were on the road
for two months, marching in several columns; Marshal Augereau was the
last to leave Brest, but he then went on ahead, and stopped first at
Rennes and then successively at Alonçon, Melun, Troyes and Langres, at
which stops he inspected the various regiments, whose morale was
raised by his presence. The weather was superb: I spent the two
months travelling endlessly in an open carriage, from one column to
another, carrying the marshal's orders to the generals, and was able
to stop twice at Paris to see my mother. Our equipment had gone on in
advance. I had a mediocre servant, but three excellent horses.

While the Grande Armée was wending its way towards the Rhine and
the Danube, the French troops stationed in northern Italy, under the
command of Masséna, concentrated in the Milan area in order to attack
the Austrians in the region of Venezia.

To transmit his orders to Masséna, the Emperor was obliged to send
his aides-de-camp through Switzerland, which remained neutral. Now
it so happened that while Marshal Augereau was at Langres, an
officer who was carrying Napoleon's despatches was thrown out of
his carriage and broke his collar-bone. He was taken to Marshal
Augereau whom he told that he was unable to continue his mission. 
The marshal, knowing how important it was that the Emperor's despatches should arrive in Italy without delay, entrusted me with
the task of delivering them, and also of going through Huningue,
where I was to pass on his order to have a bridge built over the
Rhine at this spot. I was delighted to have this mission, as it
meant that I would have an interesting journey and would be sure of
rejoining 7th Corps before they were in action against the Austrians.

It did not take me long to reach Huningue and Basle; I went from
there to Berne and on to Rapperschwill, where I left my carriage:
then, on horseback and not without some danger, I crossed the
Splügen pass, at that time almost impracticable. I entered Italy at
Chiavenna, and joined Marshal Masséna near Verona. I went off again
without any delay, for Masséna was as impatient to see me go with his
replies to the Emperor as I was to rejoin Marshal Augereau before
there was any fighting. However my return journey was not as rapid
as my journey out, because a very heavy fall of snow had covered not
only the mountains but also the valleys of Switzerland; it had begun
to freeze hard, and horses slipped and fell at every step. It was
only by offering 600 francs that I was able to find two guides who
were prepared to cross the Splügen with me. It took us more than
twelve hours to make the crossing, walking through snow sometimes up
to our knees. The guides were on the point of refusing to go any
further, saying that it was too dangerous, but I was young and
venturesome, and I knew the importance of the despatches which the
Emperor was awaiting.

I told my guides that even if they turned back, I would go on
without them. Every profession has its code of honour; that of the
guides consists principally in never abandoning the traveller
committed to their care. Mine then went forward, and after some
truly extraordinary exertions, we arrived at the large inn situated
at the foot of the Splügen as night was falling. We would have
undoubtedly died if we had been trapped on the mountain, for the
path, which was barely discernable, was edged by precipices which the
snow prevented us from seeing clearly. I was exhausted, but a sleep
restored my strength, so I left at daybreak to reach Rapperschwill,
where there were carriages and passable roads.

The worst of the journey was over; so, in spite of the snow and
bitter cold, I reached Basle and then Heningue, where the 7th Corps
was stationed, on the 19th October. The next day we began to cross
the Rhine over a bridge of boats built for that purpose; for
although there was, less than half a league away in the town of
Basle, a stone bridge, the Emperor had ordered Marshal Augereau to
respect the neutrality of Switzerland, a neutrality which they
themselves broke, nine years later, by handing the bridge to the
enemies of France in 1814.

Here I was then, involved once more in a war. It was now 1805, a
year which for me heralded a long series of battles which lasted
continuously for ten years, for it did not end until ten years later
at Waterloo. However numerous the wars of the Empire might be,
nearly all French soldiers enjoyed one or even several years of
respite, either because they were in a garrison in France, or they
were stationed in Italy or Germany when we were at war with Spain;
but, as you will see, this did not happen to me; I was continually
sent from north to south, and south to north, everywhere where there
was fighting. I did not spend a single one of these ten years
without coming under fire and without shedding my blood in some
foreign country.

I do not intend to give, here, a detailed account of the campaign
of 1805. I shall limit myself to recalling the principal events.

The Russians, who were marching to the aid of Austria, were still
far away, when Field-marshal Mack, at the head of eighty thousand
men, advanced, unwisely, into Bavaria, where he was defeated by
Napoleon, who forced him to retreat to the fortress of Ulm, where he
surrendered with the greater part of his army, of which only two
corps escaped the disaster.

One of these, commanded by Prince Ferdinand, managed to reach
Bohemia; the other, commanded by the elderly Field-marshal
Jellachich, escaped into the Vorarlberg near Lake Constance, where,
flanked by neutral Switzerland, it guarded the narrow passes of the
Black Forest. It was these troops which Marshal Augereau was about
to attack.

After crossing the Rhine at Huningue, 7th Corps found itself in
the country of Baden, whose sovereign, along with those of Bavaria
and Wurtemberg, had just concluded an alliance with Napoleon; so we
were received as friends by the population of Brisgau. Field-marshal
Jellachich had not dared to oppose the French in such open country,
but awaited us beyond Freiburg, at the entrance to the Black Forest,
the passage through which he expected us to effect only at the cost
of much bloodshed. Above all, he hoped to stop us at the Val
d'Enfer, a very long and narrow pass, dominated on both sides by
sheer cliffs, and easy to defend. But the men of 7th Corps had now
heard of the successes achieved by their comrades at Ulm and in
Bavaria, and anxious to emulate them, they advanced through the Black
Forest with such élan that they crossed through it in three days, in
spite of the natural obstacles, the enemy resistance and the
difficulty in finding food in this dreadful wilderness. The army
finally broke out into fertile country and made camp around
Donauschingen, a very pleasant town where there is the magnificent
château of the ancient line of the princes of Furstenburg.

The marshal and his aides-de-camp were billeted in the château, in
the courtyard of which is the source of the Danube; this great river
demonstrates its power at the moment of its birth, for at the spot
where it issues from the earth it already bears a boat.

The draught-horses for the guns and the supply wagons had been
greatly fatigued by the passage through the rough and mountainous
passes of the Black Forest, which a coating of frost had made even
more difficult. It was therefore necessary to give them several days
of rest; during which period the Austrian cavalry came from time to
time to probe our outposts, which were positioned two leagues from
the town; but this amounted to no more than some ineffectual fire
which kept us on our toes, gave us some exercise in skirmishing, and
allowed us to learn to recognise the various uniforms of the enemy. 
I saw, for the first time, the Uhlans of Prince Charles, Rosenberg's
Dragoons and Blankenstein's Hussars.

The horses having recovered their strength, the army continued its
march, and for several weeks we had a series of engagements which
left us masters of Engen and Stockach.

Although I was very much involved in these various actions, I had
only one accident, which, however, might have been serious. The
ground was covered by snow, particularly round Stockach, where the
enemy defended their position fiercely. The marshal ordered me to go
and reconnoitre a spot to which he wanted to direct a column; I left
at the gallop; the ground looked to me to be quite level, the snow,
driven by the wind having hidden all the hollows, but suddenly my
horse and I fell into a deep gully, up to our necks in snow. I was
trying to get out, when two enemy Hussars appeared at the edge and
fired their muskets at me. Fortunately, the snow in which my horse and
I were floundering about prevented them from taking an accurate aim,
and I came to no harm; but they were about to fire once more when
some Chasseurs, which Marshal Augereau had sent to my aid, forced
them to depart hurriedly. With some help I was able to get out of
the ravine, but we had a great deal of difficulty in extricating my
horse. As we were both unhurt, my comrades had a laugh at the strange
appearance I presented after my bath of snow.

After we had gained control of the Vorarlberg, we captured
Bregen,and drove Jellachich's Austrian corps to Lake Constance and
the Tyrol. The enemy now sought the protection of the fortress of
Feldkirch and its celebrated gorge, behind which they could defend
themselves with advantage. We expected to have to fight a murderous
battle to take this position when, to our astonishment, the
Austrians offered to capitulate, an offer which Marshal Augereau was
quick to accept.

During the meeting between the two marshals, the Austrian
officers, humiliated by the reverse which their arms had just
suffered, took malicious pleasure in giving us some very bad news
which had been concealed up till this day, but which the Russians and
Austrians had learned of from English sources. The Franco-Spanish
fleet had been defeated by Lord Nelson on October 20th not far from
Cadiz, at Cape Trafalgar. Villeneuve, our infelicitous admiral, who
had failed to carry out the precise orders of Napoleon at a time
when the appearance of a combined fleet in the Channel could have
secured a safe passage for the troops assembled at Boulogne, learning
that he was about to be replaced by Admiral Rosily, passed suddenly
from an excess of circumspection to an excess of audacity. He left
Cadiz and engaged in a battle which, had it turned out in our favour,
would have been virtually useless, since the French army, instead of
being at Boulogne to take advantage of such a success to embark for
England, was two hundred leagues from the coast, fighting in Germany.

After a most desperate struggle, the fleets of France and Spain
had been defeated by that of England, whose admiral, the famous
Nelson, had been killed; taking to his grave a reputation as the
finest seaman of the epoch. On our side we lost Rear-admiral Magon,
a very fine officer. One of our vessels blew up; seventeen, as many
French as Spanish, were captured. A severe storm which arose toward
the end of the battle, lasted all night and the days following, and
was on the verge of overwhelming both victors and vanquished, so that
the English, concerned for their own safety, were forced to abandon
nearly all the ships which they had captured from us; which were
mostly taken back to Cadiz by the remains of their brave but
unfortunate crews, though some were wrecked on the rock-bound coast.

It was during this battle that my excellent friend France
d'Houdetot received a wound to his thigh which has left him with a
limp. D'Houdetot, scarcely out of childhood was a naval cadet, and
attached to the staff of Admiral Magon, a friend of my father. After
the death of the admiral, the ship "The Algesiras," in which he served,
was captured after a bloody encounter, and the English placed on
board a prize crew of sixty men. But the storm separated the ship
from the English fleet, and the prize crew realised that it was very
unlikely that they could reach England, so they agreed to allow the
French seamen to take the ship into Cadiz, with the stipulation that
they would not be held as prisoners of war. The French flag was
hoisted to identify the ship and the badly damaged vessel managed to
reach Cadiz, though not without great difficulty. The ship which
bore Admiral Villeneuve was captured and the unlucky admiral was
taken to England, where he remained a prisoner for three years. 
Having been released on exchange, he decided to go to Paris, but,
detained at Rennes, he committed suicide.

When Field-marshal Jellachich felt obliged to capitulate before
the 7th French army corps, this decision seemed the more surprising
since, even if defeated by us, he had the option of retiring into the
Tyrol which was behind him, and whose inhabitants have for many
centuries been greatly attached to the house of Austria. The thick
snow which covered the country no doubt made movement difficult, but
the difficulties presented would have been much greater for us,
enemies of Austria, than for the troops of Jellachich, withdrawing
through an Austrian province. However, if the old and hide-bound
Field-marshal could not bring himself to campaign in winter, in the
high mountains, his attitude was not shared by the officers under his
command; for many of them condemned his pusillanimity, and spoke of
rebelling against his authority. The most ardent of his opponents
was General the Prince de Rohan, a French officer in the service of
Austria, a bold and competent soldier. Marshal Augereau, fearing
that Jellachich might take the advice offered by the Prince and
retreat into the Tyrol where pursuit would be almost impossible,
hastened to grant him all the conditions which he requested.

The terms of the capitulation were that the Austrian troops should
lay down their arms, hand over their flags, standards, cannons and
horses, but should not themselves be taken to France, and could
withdraw to Bohemia after swearing not to bear arms against France
for one year.

When he announced the capitulation in one of his army bulletins,
the Emperor seemed a little disappointed that the Austrian soldiers
had not been made prisoners of war; but he changed his mind when he
realised that Marshal Augereau had no means of retaining them, as
escape was so easy. In fact, during the night preceding the day when
the Austrians were to lay down their arms, a revolt broke out in
several brigades against Field-marshal Jellachich. The Prince de
Rohan, refusing to accept the capitulation, left with his infantry
division, and joined by some regiments from other divisions, he fled
into the mountains, which he crossed, despite the rigours of the
season: then by an audacious march, he bypassed the cantonments of
Marshal Ney's troops, who occupied the towns of the Tyrol, and
arriving between Verona and Venice, he fell on the rear of the French
army of Italy, while this force, commanded by Masséna was following
on the tail of Prince Charles, who was retiring towards Friuli. The
arrival of the Prince de Rohan in Venetian territory, when Masséna
was already in the far distance, could have had the most grave
consequences; but fortunately a French army, coming from Naples,
under the command of General Saint-Cyr, defeated the Prince and took
him prisoner. He had, at least, submitted only to force, and was
right in saying that if Jellachich had been there with all his
troops, the Austrians might have defeated Saint-Cyr and opened a
route for themselves back into Austria.

When a force capitulates, it is customary for the victor to send
to each division a staff officer to take charge, as it were, and to
conduct it on the day and at the hour appointed to the place where it
is to lay down its arms. Those of my comrades who were sent to the
Prince de Rohan were left behind by him in the camp which he quitted,
for he carried out his retreat from an area behind the fortress of
Feldkirch, and in a direction away from the French camp, so that he
had little fear of being stopped; but the Austrian cavalry were not
in a similar situation. They were in bivouac on a small area of open
ground in front of Feldkirch, and opposite and a short distance from
our outposts. I had been detailed to go to the Austrian cavalry and
lead them to the agreed rendezvous; this brigade did not have a
general, but was commanded by a colonel of Blankenstein's Hussars, an
elderly Hungarian, brave and crafty, whose name, I regret, I cannot
remember, for I think highly of him although he played me a most
disagreeable trick.

On my arrival at the camp, the colonel had offered me the
hospitality of his hut for the night, and we had agreed to set off at
daybreak, to reach the spot indicated on the shore of Lake
Constance, between the town of Bregenz and Lindau, at a distance of
about three leagues. I was most astonished when, at about midnight,
I heard the officers mounting their horses. I hurried out of the hut
and saw that the squadrons were formed up and ready to move. I asked
the reason for this hasty departure, and the old colonel replied,
with cool deceit, that Field-marshal Jellachich feared that some
jeering directed at the Austrian soldiers by the French, whose camp
one would have to pass if one took the shortest route to the beach at
Lindau, might lead to fighting between the troops of the two nations.
Jellachich, in consultation with Marshal Augereau, had ordered the
Austrian troops to make a long detour to the right so that they
would avoid our camp and the town of Breganz, and would not come into
contact with our soldiers. He added that as the route was very long
and the road bad, the two commanders had advanced the time of
departure by some hours; he was surprised that I had not been
informed of this, but suggested that the written instructions had
been held up at the advance posts, owing to some misunderstanding; he
carried this deception so far as to send an officer to look for this
despatch, wherever it might be. The explanation given by the colonel
of the Blankensteins sounded so convincing that I did not say
anything, although my instinct told me that this was a little
irregular; but, alone in the midst of three thousand enemy cavalry,
what could I do? It was better to appear confident than to seem to
doubt the good faith of the Austrian brigade. As I was unaware of
the flight of the Prince de Rohan's division, it did not enter my
head that the commander of the cavalry intended to evade the
capitulation. I rode alongside him, at the head of the column. The
Austrian had made his arrangements for the avoidance of the French
camps--whose fires could be seen--so well that we did not pass near
any of them. But what the old colonel had not anticipated, and was
unable to avoid, was an encounter with a flying patrol, which the
French cavalry usually sent out into the countryside at night, some
distance from an encampment: for suddenly there was a challenge, and
we found ourselves in the presence of a large column of French
cavalry, which was clearly visible in the moonlight. The Hungarian
colonel, without seeming the least worried, said to me "This is work
for you, as an aide-de-camp; kindly come with me and explain the
situation to the commander of this French unit." We went forward. I
gave the pass-word, and found myself in the presence of the 7th
mounted Chasseurs, who, knowing that the Austrian troops were
expected for the laying down of arms, and recognising me as one of
Marshal Augereau's aides, made no difficulty about the passage of the
brigade which I was conducting. The French commander, whose troops
had their sabres drawn, even took the trouble to have them sheathed,
as witness to the good-will existing between the two columns, which
went on their way for some distance, side by side. I closely
questioned the officer in charge of the Chasseurs about the change in
the time at which the Austrians were to move; but he knew nothing at
all about it, something which did not raise any suspicion in my mind,
for I knew that an order of this kind would not be distributed by the
staff down to regimental level. So I continued to ride with the
colonel for the rest of the night, finding, however that the detour
we were making was very long, and the going very bad.

At last, at daybreak, the old colonel, seeing a patch of level
ground, said to me, in a conversational tone of voice, that although
he would soon be obliged to hand over the horses of the three
regiments to the French, he wished to care for the poor animals up to
the last, and to deliver them in good condition; In consequence he
had ordered that they should be given a feed of oats. The brigade
halted, formed up and dismounted; and when the horses had been
tethered, the colonel, who alone remained on horseback, gathered in a
circle around him the officers and men of the three regiments, and in
a ringing voice which made the old warrior seem quite superb, he
announced that the Prince de Rohan's division, preferring honour to a
shameful safety, had refused to subscribe to the disgraceful
capitulation whereby Field-marshal Jellachich had promised to hand
over to the French, the flags and the arms of the Austrian troops,
and had fled into the Tyrol; where he too would have led the
brigade were it not for the fact that he feared that in that barren
mountain country, there would not be enough fodder for so many
horses. But now they had open country in front of them and having,
by a ruse of which he was proud, gained a lead of six leagues over
the French troops, he invited all those who had truly Austrian hearts
to follow him across Germany to Moravia, where they could rejoin the
army of their August sovereign, Francis II. Blankenstein's Hussars
responded to this speech by their colonel with a resounding cheer of
approval; but Rosenberg's Dragoons and the Uhlans of Prince Charles
maintained a gloomy silence. As for me, although I did not yet know
enough German to follow the colonel's words exactly, what I did
understand, together with the tone of the orator and the position in
which he found himself, allowed me to guess what was afoot, and I can
promise you that I felt very crestfallen at having, although
unwittingly, furthered the plans of this diabolical Hungarian.

A fearful tumult now arose in the immense circle by which I was
surrounded, and I was able to appreciate the inconvenience stemming
from the heterogeneous amalgamation of different peoples which makes
up the Austrian Empire, and in consequence, the Austrian army. All
the Hussars were Hungarian; the Blankensteins therefore approved the
proposal made by a leader of their own nationality, but the Dragoons
were German and the Uhlans were Polish; the Hungarian could make no
nationalistic appeal to them, who, in this difficult situation
listened only to their own officers; these officers declared that
they thought themselves bound by the capitulation which Field-marshal
Jellachich had signed and did not wish, by their departure, to worsen
his position or that of their comrades who were already the hands of
the French, who would be within their rights to send them all back to
France as prisoners of war, if a part of the Austrian forces violated
the agreement. To this the colonel replied that when the
Commander-in-Chief of an army looses his head, fails in his duty and
delivers his troops to the enemy, his juniors have no need to consult
anything but their courage and their devotion to their country. Then
the colonel, brandishing his sabre in one hand, while with the other
he seized the regimental standard, cried out, "Go then Dragoons! Go!
Go! Yield to the French your dishonoured standards, and the arms
which the Emperor gave us for his defence. As for us, the bold
Hussars, we are off to rejoin our sovereign, to whom we can once more
show with honour our unstained colours, and the swords of fearless
soldiers!" Then, drawing close to me, and casting a look of disdain
on the Uhlans and Dragoons, he added, "I am sure that if this young
Frenchman found himself in our position and had to choose between
your conduct and mine, he would take the more courageous course; for
the French love honour and reputation as much as their country."
Having said this, the old Hungarian sheathed his sabre, dug in his
spurs, and leading his regiment at the gallop, he careered into the
distance, where he soon disappeared. There was some truth in both
the arguments which I had heard, but that of the old Hungarian seemed
the more valid because it was in conformity with the interests of his
country; I then secretly approved of his behaviour, but I could not,
of course advise the Dragoons and Uhlans to follow his example; that
would have been to step out of my role and fail in my duty. I
maintained a strict neutrality in this discussion, and when the
Hussars had left, I asked the colonels of the other two regiments to
follow me, and we took the road for Lindau.

On the beach beside the lake, we found Marshals Augereau and
Jellachich, as well as the French forces and the Austrian infantry
regiments which had not followed the Prince de Rohan. On learning
from me that the Blankenstein Hussars, having refused to recognise
the capitulation, were heading for Moravia both marshals flew into a
rage: Marshal Augereau because he feared that these Hussars might
cause havoc in the rear of the French army, since the route which
they would follow would take them through areas where the Emperor, in
the course of his march on Vienna, had left many dressing stations
full of wounded; artillery parks, etc. But the Hungarian colonel did
not think it was part of his duty to advertise his presence by any
surprise attack, as he was only too anxious to get out of a country
bristling with French arms. By avoiding all our positions, moving
always on minor roads, hiding by day in the woods and marching
rapidly at night, he managed to reach the frontier of Moravia without
trouble, and joined an Austrian army corps which occupied the area.
As for the troops who remained with Field-marshal Jellachich, having
laid down their arms, surrendered their flags and standards and
handed over their horses, they became prisoners on parole for one
year, and made off in dismal silence for the interior of Germany, to
make their way sadly to Bohemia. I remembered, when I saw them,
the valiant words of the old colonel, and I think I saw on the faces
of many of these Uhlans and Dragoons a regret that they had not
followed the old warrior, and an unhappiness when they compared the
heroic position of the Blankensteins with their own humiliation.

Among the trophies which Jellachich's corps was forced to hand
over were seventeen flags and two standards, which Marshal Augereau,
as was usual, hastened to send to the Emperor, in the care of two
aides-de-camp. Major Massy and I were detailed for this task, and we
left the same evening in a fine carriage with, in front of us, a
wagon containing the flags and standards, in the charge of an N.C.O. 
We headed for Vienna via Kempten, Brauneau, Munich, Lenz and
Saint-Poelten. Some leagues before this last town, following the
banks of the Danube, we admired the superb Abbey of Mölk, one of the
richest in the world. It was here, four years later that I ran the
greatest danger, and earned the praise of the Emperor, for having
performed before his eyes the finest feat of arms of my military
career; as you will see when we come to the campaign of 1809.

Chap. 24

In September 1805, the seven corps which made up the Grande Armée
were on the march from their positions on the coast to the banks of
the Danube. They were already in the countries of Baden and
Wurtemberg when, on the 1st October, Napoleon, in person, crossed the
Rhine at Strasburg. A part of the large force which the Russians
were sending to the aid of Austria had at that moment arrived in
Moravia, and the cabinet at Vienna should, with prudence, have waited
until this powerful reinforcement had joined the Austrian army; but, carried away by an enthusiasm which they did not usually display, and
which was inspired by Field-marshal Mack, it had despatched him, at
the head of eighty thousand men, to attack Bavaria; the possession of
which had been coveted by Austria for several centuries, and which
French policy had always protected from invasion. The Elector of
Bavaria, forced to abandon his state, took refuge with his family
and his troops in Wurtzburg, from where he begged Napoleon for
assistance. Napoleon entered into an alliance with him and with the
rulers of Baden and Wurtzburg.

The Austrian army, under Mack, had already occupied Ulm, when
Napoleon, having crossed the Danube at Donauwerth seized Augsburg and
Munich. The French were now in the rear of Mack's force and had cut
his communication with the Russians, who having reached Vienna, were
advancing towards him by forced marches. The Field-marshal realised
then, but too late, the error he had made in allowing himself to be
encircled by French troops. He tried to break out, but was defeated
successively in the battles of Wertingen, Gunzberg, and Elchingen,
where Marshal Ney won fame. Under increasing pressure, Mack was
forced to shut himself up in Ulm with all his army, less the corps of
the Archduke Ferdinand and Jellachich who escaped, the former into
Bohemia, and the latter to the region round Lake Constance. Ulm was
then besieged by the Emperor. It was a place which, though not
heavily fortified, could nevertheless have held out for a long
time thanks to its position and its large garrison, and so given the
Russians time to come to its relief. But Field-marshal Mack, passing
from exalted over-confidence to a profound disheartenment,
surrendered to Napoleon, who had now, in three weeks, scattered,
captured, or destroyed eighty thousand Austrians and freed Bavaria,
where he reinstalled the Elector. We shall see, in 1813, this favour
repaid by the most odious treachery.

Being now the master of Bavaria, and rid of the presence of Mack's
army, the Emperor increased the pace of his advance, down the right
bank of the Danube towards Vienna. He captured Passau and then
Linz, where he learned that 50,000 Russians, commanded by General
Koutousoff, reinforced by 40,000 Austrians, whom General Kienmayer
had collected, had crossed the Danube at Vienna and had taken up a
position between Mölk and St. Poelten. He was told at the same time
that the Austrian army commanded by Prince Charles had been defeated
by Masséna in the Venetian district and was retreating via the Friuli
in the direction of Vienna; and lastly that the Archduke Jean was
occupying the Tyrol with several divisions. Those two princes were
therefore threatening the right of the French army, while it had the
Russians in front of it. To protect himself against a flank attack,
the Emperor, who already had Marshal Augereau's corps in the region
of Bregenz, sent Marshal Ney to attack Innsbruk and the Tyrol, and
moved Marmont's corps to Loeben, in order to block Prince Charles'
route from Italy. Having taken these wise precautions to protect his
right flank, Napoleon, before advancing to meet the Russians, whose
advance-guard had already clashed with ours at Amstetten, near to
Steyer, wished to protect his left flank from any attack from those
Austrians who had taken refuge in Bohemia, under the command of
Archduke Ferdinand. To effect this he gave Marshal Mortier the
infantry divisions of Generals Dupont and Gazan, and ordered him to
cross the Danube by the bridges at Passau and Linz, and then proceed
down the left bank of the river, while the bulk of the army went down
the right. However, in order not to leave Marshal Mortier too
isolated, Napoleon conceived the idea of gathering together on the
Danube a great number of boats, which had been captured on the
tributaries of the river, and forming a flotilla which, manned by men
from the guard, could move down the river, keeping level with Mortier
and making a link between the troops on both banks.

You may think it a little presumptuous of me to criticise one of
the operations of a great captain, but I cannot refrain from
commenting that the sending of Mortier to the left bank was a move
which had not been sufficiently considered, and was an error which
could have had very serious consequences. The Danube, Europe's
largest river, is, after Passau, so wide in winter that from one
bank one cannot discern a man standing on the other; it is also very
deep and very fast-flowing, and it therefore provided a guarantee of
perfect safety for the left flank of the French army as it marched
down the right bank. Furthermore, any attack could be made only by
the Archduke Ferdinand, coming from Bohemia; but he, very pleased to
have escaped from the French before Ulm, had only a few troops, and
they were mostly cavalry. Even if he had wished to do so, he had not
the means to mount an attack which involved crossing an obstacle such
as the Danube, into which he might be driven back. Whereas, by
detaching two of his divisions and allowing them to be isolated
across this immense river, Napoleon exposed them to the risk of being
captured or exterminated. A disaster which might have been foreseen
and which very nearly came about.

Field-marshal Koutousoff, had been awaiting the French with
confidence, in a strong position at St. Poelten, because he believed
that they were being pursued by the army of Mack; but when he heard
of the surrender of this army at Ulm, he no longer felt himself
strong enough to face Napoleon alone, and being unwilling to risk his
troops to save the city of Vienna, he decided to put the barrier of
the Danube between himself and the victor, so he crossed the river by
the bridge at Krems, which he burned behind him.

He had scarcely arrived on the left bank with all his army, when
he ran into the scouts of the Gazan division, which was proceeding
from Dirnstein to Krems, with Marshal Mortier at its head. 
Koutousoff, having discovered the presence of a French corps isolated
on the left bank, resolved to crush it, and to achieve this aim he
attacked it head to head on the narrow road which ran along the river
bank, while seizing control of the escarpments which overlook the
Danube. He sent light troops to occupy Dirnstein to cut off the
retreat of the Gazan division. The position of the division was made
even more critical by the fact that the flotilla of boats had dropped
back and there were only two little boats available, which made it
impossible to bring reinforcements from the other bank.

Attacked in front and in the rear and on one of their flanks by
enemies six times their number; shut in between the rocky escarpment
occupied by the Russians and the depths of the Danube, the French
soldiers, crowded on the narrow roadway, did not despair. The
gallant Marshal Mortier set them an example, for, when it was
suggested that he should take one of the boats and go over to the
right bank, where he would be with the Grande Armée, and avoid giving
the Russians the glory of capturing a marshal, he replied that he
would die with his men, or escape over the dead bodies of the
Russians!

A savage bayonet fight ensued: five thousand French were up
against thirty thousand Russians: night came to add to the horrors of
the combat: Gazan's division, massed in column, managed to regain
Dirnstein at a moment when Dupont's division, which had remained
behind opposite Mölk, alerted by the sound of gunfire, was
running to their aid. Eventually the battlefield remained in French
hands.

In this hand to hand fighting, where the bayonet was almost the
only weapon used, our men, more adroit and agile than the giant
Russians, had a great advantage; so the enemy losses amounted to some
four thousand five hundred men, while ours were three thousand only. 
But had our divisions not been made up of seasoned soldiers,
Mortier's corps would probably have been destroyed. The Emperor was
well aware of this, and hastened to recall it to the right bank. 
What seems to me to be proof that he realised the mistake he had made
in sending this corps across the river, is the fact that, although he
generously rewarded the brave regiments which had fought at
Dirnstein, the official bulletins scarcely mention this sanguinary
affair, and it is as if one wished to conceal the results of this
operation because one could find no military justification for it.

What further confirms me in the opinion which I have taken the
liberty of expressing, is that in the campaign of 1809, the Emperor,
when he found himself in a similar situation, did not send any troops
across the river, but, keeping all his force together, he went with
it to Vienna.

But let us return to the mission with which Major Massy and I were
charged.

When we arrived in Vienna, Napoleon and the bulk of the army
had already left the city, which they had seized without a shot being
fired. The crossing of the Danube which it was necessary to effect
in order to pursue the Russians and the Austrians who were retreating
into Moravia, had not been disputed, thanks to a perhaps culpable
deception which was carried out by Marshals Lannes and Murat. This
incident, which had such a profound effect on this well-known
campaign, deserves recounting.

The city of Vienna is situated on the right bank of the Danube: a
small branch of that immense river passes through the city, but the
main stream is half a league away; there the Danube contains a large
number of islands which are connected by a long series of wooden
bridges, terminated by one which, spanning the main arm of the
river, reaches the left bank at a place named Spitz. The road to
Moravia runs along this series of bridges. When the Austrians are
opposing the crossing of a river, they have a very bad habit of
leaving the bridges intact up to the very last moment, to give them a
means of mounting a counter-attack against the enemy, who almost
always does not allow them time to do so and takes from them the
bridges which they have neglected to burn. This is what the French
did during the campaign in Italy in 1796 at the memorable affairs of
Lodi and Arcoli. But these examples had not served to correct the
Austrians, for on leaving Vienna, which is not suited to defence,
they retired to the other side of the Danube without destroying a
single one of the bridges spanning this vast watercourse, and limited
themselves to placing inflammable material on the platform of the
main bridge, in order to set it alight when the French appeared. 
They had also established on the left bank, at the end of the bridge
at Spitz, a powerful battery of artillery, as well as a division of
six thousand men under the command of Prince D'Auersperg, a brave but
not very intelligent officer. Now I must tell you that some days
before the entry of the French into Vienna, the Emperor had received
the Austrian general, Comte de Guilay, who came as an envoy to make
peace overtures, which came to nothing. But hardly had the Emperor
settled in the palace of Schoenbrunn, when General Guilay again
appeared and spent more than an hour tête-a-tête with Napoleon. From
this a rumour arose that an armistice had been arranged, a rumour
which spread amongst the French regiments which were entering Vienna
and the Austrians who were leaving to cross the Danube.

Murat and Lannes, whom the Emperor had ordered to secure the
crossing of the Danube, placed Oudinot's Grenadiers behind a bushy
plantation and went forward, accompanied only by some German-speaking
officers. The enemy outposts withdrew, firing as they went. The
French officers called out that there was an armistice, and
continuing their progress, they crossed all the small bridges,
without being held up. When they arrived at the main bridge, they
renewed their assertion to the commander at Spitz, who did not dare
to fire on two marshals, almost alone, who claimed that hostilities
were suspended. However, before allowing them to go any further, he
wanted to go and ask General Auersperg for orders, and while he did
so, he left the post in charge of a sergeant. Lannes and Murat
persuaded the sergeant that under the terms of the cease-fire, the
bridge should be handed over to them, and that he should go with his
men to join his officer on the left bank. The poor sergeant
hesitated, he was edged back gently while the conversation continued,
and by a slow but steady advance they reached, eventually, the end of
the main bridge.

At this point an Austrian officer endeavored to set light to the
incendiary material, but the torch was snatched from his hand, and he
was told that he would be in serious trouble if he did any such
thing. Next, the column of Oudinot's Grenadiers appeared and began
to cross the bridge.... The Austrian gunners prepared to open fire,
but the French marshals ran to the commander of the artillery and
assured him that an armistice was in force, then, seating themselves
on the guns, they requested the gunners to go and inform General
Auersperg of their presence. General Auersperg eventually arrived
and was about to order the gunners to open fire, although by now they
and the Austrian troops were surrounded by the French Grenadiers,
when the two marshals managed to convince him that there was a
cease-fire, a principal condition of which was that the French should
occupy the bridge. The unhappy general, fearing to compromise
himself by the useless shedding of blood, lost his head to the point
of leading away all the troops which he had been given to defend the
bridges.

Without this error on the part of General Auersperg, the passage
of the Danube could only have been carried out with great difficulty,
and might even have been impossible; in which case Napoleon would
have been unable to pursue the Russians and Austrians into Moravia,
and would have failed in his campaign. That was the opinion at the
time, and it was confirmed three years later when, the Austrians
having burned the bridges, to secure a passage we were forced to
fight the two battles of Essling and Wagram, which cost us more than
thirty thousand men, whereas in 1805 Marshals Lannes and Murat took
possession of the bridges without there being a single man wounded.

Was the stratagem they employed admissible? I have my doubts. I
know that in war one eases one's conscience, and that any means may
be employed to ensure victory and reduce loss of life, but in spite
of these weighty considerations, I do not think that one can approve
of the method used to seize the bridge at Spitz, and for my part I
would not care to do the same in similar circumstances.

To conclude this episode, the credulity of General Auersperg was
very severely punished. A court-martial condemned him to be
cashiered, dragged through the streets of Vienna on a hurdle and
finally put to death at the hands of the public executioner...! A
similar sentence was passed on Field-marshal Mack, to punish him for
his conduct at Ulm. But in both cases the death sentence was
commuted to life imprisonment. They served ten years and were then
released, but deprived of their position, expelled from the ranks of
the nobility and rejected by their families, they died, both of them,
shortly after they had been set at liberty.

The stratagem employed by Marshals Lannes and Murat having secured
the crossing of the Danube, the Emperor Napoleon directed his army in
pursuit of the Russians and the Austrians. Thus began the second
phase of the campaign.

Chap. 25.

The Russian marshal Koutousoff was heading via Hollabrunn for
Brno in Moravia, in order to join the second army which was led by
the Emperor Alexander in person; but on approaching Hollabrunn, he
was alarmed to discover that the troops of Lannes and Murat were
already occupying the town and cutting off his means of retreat. To
get out of this fix, the aged marshal, making use, in his turn, of
trickery, sent General Prince Bagration as an envoy to Marshal Murat,
whom he assured that an aide-de-camp of the Emperor was on his way to
Napoleon in order to conclude an armistice, and that, without doubt,
peace would shortly follow.

Prince Bagration was a very amiable man, he knew exactly how to
flatter Murat, so that he in turn was deceived into accepting an
armistice, in spite of the observations of Lannes, who wished to
fight but had to obey Murat, who was his superior officer.

The truce lasted for thirty-six hours; and while Murat was
inhaling the incense which the crafty Russian lavished on him,
Koutousoff's army made a detour and concealing its movement behind a
screen of low hills, escaped from danger, and went on to take up,
beyond Hollabrunn, a strong position which opened the road to Moravia
and assured his retreat and his junction with the second Russian army
which was encamped between Znaim and Brno. Napoleon was still in the
palace of Schoenbrunn, and was furiously angry when he heard that
Murat had allowed himself to be bamboozled by Prince Bagration, and
had accepted an armistice without his orders, and he commanded him to
attack Koutousoff immediately.

Now the situation of the Russians had changed greatly to their
advantage, so they repelled the French most vigorously. The town of
Hollabrunn, taken and re-taken several times, set on fire by the
mortars, filled with the dead and dying, remained finally in French
possession. The Russians retired in the direction of Brno; our
troops followed them and took possession of this town without a
fight, although it was fortified and dominated by the well-known
citadel of Spielberg.

The Russian armies and the remains of the Austrian troops were
united in Moravia; the Emperor Napoleon, in order to deliver the
final blow, arrived in Brno, the capital of the province.

My comrade Massy and I followed after him, but we moved slowly and
with much difficulty, firstly because the post-horses were on their
last legs, and then because of the great quantity of troops, guns,
ammunition wagons, baggage, etc. with which the roads were
obstructed. We were obliged to stop for twenty-four hours at
Hollabrunn, while we waited for a passage to be cleared through the
streets, destroyed by fire and littered with planks and beams and the
debris of furniture, still alight. This unfortunate town had been so
completely burned that we were unable to find a single house to
provide shelter!

During our enforced stay, we were confronted and distressed by the
most horrible and shocking spectacle. The wounded, mainly Russians,
had taken refuge during the fighting in the houses which were soon
set ablaze. All who could walk fled at the approach of this new
danger, but the crippled and gravely injured were burned alive in the
ruins! Many had attempted to escape the fire by crawling along the
ground, but the flames had followed them into the streets,where one
could see a multitude of these wretched victims half consumed by
fire, some of them still breathing! The bodies of the men and horses
killed in the battle had also been roasted, so that for several
leagues around the town there was a sickening stench of burning
flesh! ... There are countrysides and towns which because of their
situation are destined to serve as battlefields, and Hollabrun is one
of them, because it offers an excellent military position; thus it
was that the damage done by the fire of 1805 had scarcely been
repaired, when I saw the place again, four years later, once more on
fire and littered with the half-roasted bodies of the dead and dying;
as you will see from my description of the campaign of 1809.

Major Massy and I left this pestilential spot as soon as we could,
and went on to Znaim, where, four years later I was to be wounded;
and at last we reached the Emperor at Brunn (Brno), on November 22nd,
ten days before the Battle of Austerlitz.

The day after our arrival, we completed our mission and handed
over the flags with the ceremony laid down by the Emperor for solemn
occasions of this kind; for he missed no opportunity of displaying to
the troops anything which could raise their morale and enthusiasm.

The procedure was as follows:--Half an hour before the daily
parade,--which took place at eleven o'clock outside whatever
residence was serving as the Emperor's palace,--General Duroc, the
Grand Marshal, sent to our billet a company of Grenadiers of the
Guard, with bandsmen and drummers. The town of Brunn was full of
French troops, and the soldiers, as we passed, celebrated with much
cheering the victory of their comrades of 7th Corps. All the
guard-posts accorded us military honours, and on our entry to the
courtyard of the Emperor's quarters, the units formed up for the
parade beat a salute, presented arms, and cried repeatedly "Vive
L'Empereur!"

The aide-de-camp on duty came to receive us and to present us to
Napoleon, to whom we were introduced, accompanied always by the
N.C.O.s carrying the Austrian flags. The Emperor examined these
various trophies, and after dismissing the N.C.O.s. he questioned us
closely about the various actions which had been fought by Marshal
Augereau and on all we had seen or learned on our long journey
through a countryside which had been the theatre of war. Then he
told us to await his instructions, and to join the imperial suite. 
The Grand Marshal Duroc took charge of the flags, for which he gave
us a receipt in the regular manner, informed us that horses would be
placed at our disposal and invited us, for the duration of our stay,
to the table over which he presided.

The French army was now massed around and before Brunn. The
Russian advance-guard occupied Austerlitz, while the bulk of their
army was positioned round the town of Olmutz, where were also the
Emperor Alexander of Russia and the Emperor of Austria. A battle
seemed inevitable, but both sides being well aware that the outcome
would have an immense bearing on the destiny of Europe, each
hesitated to make a decisive move. Napoleon, usually so swift to act,
waited for eleven days at Brunn before launching a major attack. It
is, however, true that every day of waiting increased his forces by
the arrival of great numbers of soldiers who had lagged behind
because of illness or fatigue, and who having now recovered, hastened
to rejoin their units. I recall that, in these circumstances, I told
a white lie which could have ruined my military career.

Napoleon usually treated his officers with kindness, but there was
one point on which he was perhaps too strict, for he held colonels
responsible for keeping their units up to full strength, something it
is very difficult to do during a campaign. It was in this matter
that the Emperor was most often deceived, for the corps commanders
were so afraid of displeasing him that they risked being committed to
facing an enemy force disproportionate to their own numbers, rather
than admit that sickness, fatigue and the need to forage for food had
caused many soldiers to drop out. So Napoleon, in spite of his
authority, never knew the exact number of combatants available to him
on the day of battle.

Now it so happened that the Emperor, in the course of one of the
endless trips he made to visit the various corps of the army, saw the
mounted Chasseurs of his guard, who were moving to a different
position. He was particularly fond of this regiment, of which his
"guides" from Italy and Egypt formed the nucleus. The Emperor, whose
experienced eye could estimate very exactly the strength of a column,
noticing that their numbers were much reduced, took out of his pocket
a little notebook, and, calling for General Morland, the commander of
the mounted Chasseurs, he said to him in a stern voice, "Your
regiment is down in my notes as having 1200 men, and although you
have not been in action, you have no more than 800; what has happened
to the others?" General Morland was a fine, brave fighting soldier,
but he did not have a ready tongue, and being quite nonplussed, he
said in his Franco-Alsatian dialect that he was short of only a small
number of men. The Emperor maintained that he was about four hundred
short, and to get to the truth of the matter he wanted to have an
immediate count; but knowing that General Morland was very much liked
by the officers of the imperial staff, he feared a cover-up, and
thought he would be more likely to discover the truth by choosing an
officer who did not belong to his entourage nor to the Chasseurs; so,
seeing me, he ordered me to count the Chasseurs and to deliver to him
personally a record of their numbers; having said which, he made off
at the gallop. I began my task, which was made more easy because the
troopers were riding past four abreast at walking pace.

Poor General Morland, who knew how close Napoleon's estimate was
to the reality, was in a state of great agitation, for he foresaw
that my report would call down on his head a severe reprimand. He
hardly knew me, and did not dare to suggest that I might compromise
myself to get him out of trouble. He was then sitting silently on
his horse beside me, when, fortunately for him, his adjutant came to
join him. This officer, named Fournier, had started his military
career as an assistant surgeon, then, having become a surgeon-major,
he felt that he had more of a vocation for the sabre than for the
lancet, and had asked for and obtained permission to join the ranks
of the combatant officers, and Morland, with whom he had served
previously, arranged for him to join the Guard.

I had known Captain Fournier very well when he was still
surgeon-major, and I was very much obliged to him, for not only had
he dressed my father's wound when it was inflicted, but he had gone,
like him, to Genoa, where, as long as my father lived, he had come
several times a day to care for him: if the doctors charged with the
duty of fighting the typhus epidemic had been as assiduous and
zealous as Fournier, my father, perhaps, would not have died. I had
often thought this, so I gave the warmest of welcomes to Fournier,
whom I did not at first recognise in the pelisse of a captain of
Chasseurs.

General Morland, seeing the pleasure we had in meeting one
another, thought he might profit from our mutual friendship to
persuade me not to reveal to the Emperor by how many men he was
short. He took his adjutant aside and conferred with him for a time;
then Fournier came, and in the name of our former friendship, he
begged me to extricate General Morland from a most unpleasant
situation by concealing from the Emperor the extent to which the
regiment was under strength. I refused firmly and continued to
count. The Emperor's estimate was very close, for there were only a
few over eight hundred Chasseurs present, four hundred were missing.

I was about to leave to make my report, when General Morland and
Captain Fournier renewed their pleas pointing out that the greater
part of the men who had dropped behind for various reasons would
rejoin them very shortly, and that it was not likely that Napoleon
would engage in battle before the arrival of the divisions of Friant
and Gudin, who were still at the gates of Vienna, thirty-six leagues
from us and would take several days to reach us. In the interval
more laggards would rejoin the unit. They added that the Emperor
would be too busy to check my report. I could not pretend to myself
that I was not being asked to deceive the Emperor, which was very
wrong, but I felt also that I was under a great obligation to Captain
Fournier for the truly tender care he had given to my dying father, I
allowed myself therefore to be swayed and promised to conceal a large
part of the truth.

I was scarcely alone when I realised the enormity of my error, but
it was too late; the essential object now was to get out of the
situation with the least harm possible. With this aim in view, I
kept out of the way of the Emperor as long as he was on horseback, in
case he went back to the bivouac of the Chasseurs, where their
shortage of numbers striking him anew would give the lie to my
report. I craftily did not return to the imperial quarters until
night was approaching and Napoleon, having dismounted had gone to his
apartment. Brought before him in order to make my report, I found
him lying at full length on an immense map which was spread on the
floor. As soon as he saw me, he called out "Well now! Marbot, how
many Chasseurs are there in my guard? Are there twelve hundred as
Morland claims?" "No sire" I replied."I counted only eleven hundred
and twenty, that is a shortfall of eighty." "I was sure that there
was a lot missing." said the Emperor, in a tone of voice which made
it plain that he had expected a much larger deficit; and to be sure
if there were no more than eighty men missing from a regiment of
twelve hundred which had just come five hundred leagues in winter,
sleeping almost every night in bivouac, that was a very small loss. 
So when, on going to dinner, the Emperor passed through the room
where the senior officers of the guard were gathered, all he said to
Morland was, "Now you see...you are short of eighty troopers; that is
almost a squadron. With eighty of these men one could stop a Russian
regiment! You must take care to see that men do not drop behind."
Then, passing to the commander of the foot guards, whose numbers were
also much reduced, Napoleon gave him a sharp reprimand. Morland, who
thought himself lucky to have got away with no more than a few
observations, came over to me, as soon as the Emperor was seated at
table, and thanked me warmly. He told me that some thirty troopers
had just arrived, and that a courier from Vienna had met more than a
hundred between Znaim and Brunn, and many more this side of
Hollabrunn, which meant that within forty-eight hours the regiment
would have made up most of its deficiency. I wished for this as
fervently as he did, for I was well aware of the difficult spot I had
landed myself in out of my consideration for Fournier. I could not
sleep that night for fear of the justifiable wrath of the Emperor, if
he found out that I had lied to him.

I was even more dismayed the next day when Napoleon, in the course
of his usual visit to his troops, started off in the direction of the
Chasseur's bivouac, for a simple question put to an officer could
expose everything; but just when I thought that I was done for, I
heard the sound of the band of the Russian force, camped on the high
ground of the Pratzen half a league from our position. I urged my
horse forward towards the head of the numerous staff by whom the
Emperor was accompanied, and getting as close to him as possible, I
said in a loud voice, "I am sure there is something going on in the
Russian camp, their band is playing a march".... The Emperor, who
heard my remark, suddenly left the path which led to the Chasseur's
bivouac, and headed towards Pratzen to see what was happening in the
enemy advance-guard. He stayed a long time watching, and as night
was approaching, he went back to Brunn without visiting the
Chasseurs. For several days I was in a mortal panic, although I
learned of the arrival of successive detachments of men, but at last
the coming battle and the many preoccupations of the Emperor drove
from his mind the idea of making the check which I so much feared. 
But I had learned my lesson; so when I became a colonel and was asked
by the Emperor how many men were present in the squadrons of my
regiment, I always gave the exact number.

Chap. 26.

If Napoleon was often deceived, he also used deception himself to
further his projects, as can be shown by the tale of this
diplomatic-military comedy, in which I played a part.

In order to understand this affair, which will give you the key to
the intrigues which, the following year, gave rise to the war between
Napoleon and the King of Prussia, we have to go back two months to
the time when the French troops, having left the coast, were
proceeding by rapid marches to the Danube. The shortest route which
the first corps, commanded by Bernadotte, could take to reach
Hanover, on the upper Danube, lay through Anspach. This little
country belonged to Prussia, but as it was quite a long way from
there, from which it was separated by a number of minor
principalities, it had always been regarded in previous wars as
being neutral territory, through which either party could pass,
provided that they paid for any goods they required and refrained
from any hostile action.

Things having been established on this footing, Austrian and
French armies had often passed through the Margravate of Anspach,
since the time of the Directory, without informing Prussia and
without the latter raising any objection. Napoleon then, taking
advantage of this convention, ordered Bernadotte to go through
Anspach, which he did. However, the Queen of Prussia and her court,
who detested Napoleon, on hearing of this, raised an outcry, claiming
that Prussian territory had been violated, and took advantage of this
event to rouse the nation and call loudly for war. The King of
Prussia and his minister, Count Haugwitz, alone resisted the general
clamour for action. This was in October 1805, when hostilities were
about to break out between France and Austria, and the Russian
armies were on their way to reinforce the latter. The queen and the
young Prince Louis, the king's nephew, in an attempt to persuade the
king to make common cause with the Austrians and Russians, arranged
for the Emperor Alexander to come to Berlin, in the hope that his
presence would influence Frederick-William.

Alexander arrived in the capital of Prussia on the 25th October. 
He was greeted with enthusiasm by the queen, Prince Louis and the
supporters of war against France. The king, besieged on all sides,
allowed himself to be persuaded, but only on the condition--advised
by the old Prince of Brunswick, and Count Haugwitz--that his army
should not be committed to a campaign until the outcome of the
conflict between the French and the Austrians on the Danube had been
determined. This partial adherence to their cause pleased neither
Alexander nor the queen, but for the time being they could obtain
nothing more explicit. A melodramatic scene was played out at
Potsdam, where the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia, having
descended, by the light of torches, into the sepulchral vaults of the
palace, swore, in the presence of the court, eternal friendship, on
the tomb of Frederick the Great; (an oath which did not prevent
Alexander from incorporating into the Russian Empire, eighteen months
later, one of the Prussian provinces, which Napoleon awarded him
under the treaty of Tilsit, and this in the presence of his friend
Frederick-William.) The Russian Emperor now went back to Moravia, to
place himself at the head of his army, for Napoleon was advancing
rapidly towards Vienna, which he shortly occupied.

When he heard of the King of Prussia's reluctance and the compact
made at Potsdam, Napoleon, in order to deal with the Russians before
the Prussians had made up their minds, installed himself for the
encounter with the former in Brunn, where we now were.

It is said, quite rightly, that ambassadors are privileged spies. 
The King of Prussia, who heard daily of fresh victories won by
Napoleon, was anxious to find out what the true position was between
the warring parties; so he decided to send Count Haugwitz, his
minister, to the French headquarters, with instructions to assess the
situation. Now it was necessary to find an excuse for doing this, so
he entrusted Count Haugwitz with a reply to a letter which Napoleon
had sent to him, complaining about the agreement concluded between
the Prussians and the Russians at Potsdam. Count Haugwitz arrived at
Brunn some days before the Battle of Austerlitz, and would dearly
have liked to stay there until he knew the result of the major
engagement which was in prospect, in order to advise his sovereign to
do nothing if we were victorious, or to attack us if we should be
defeated. You do not have to be a soldier to see from a map what
damage a Prussian army, coming from Breslau in Silesia, could do by
going through Bohemia to fall on our rear around Regansberg.

As Napoleon knew that Count Haugwitz sent a courier every
evening to Berlin, he decided that it would be by this means that he
would inform the Prussians of the defeat of Field-marshal
Jellachich's army corps, news of which had not yet reached them. 
This is how it was done.

Marshal of the Palace Duroc, after telling us what we were to do,
had all the Austrian flags which we had brought from Bregenz secretly
replaced in the lodgings which Massy and I occupied; then, some hours
later, when the Emperor was in conversation with Count Haugwitz in
his study, we re-enacted the ceremony of the handover of the flags in
exactly the same way as it had been done on the first occasion. The
Emperor hearing the band playing in the courtyard, feigned
astonishment, and went to the windows followed by the ambassador. 
Seeing the flags carried by the N.C.O.s. he called for the duty
aide-de-camp and asked him what was going on. The aide-de-camp
having told him that we were two of Marshal Augereau's aides who had
come to hand over to him the flags of Jellachich's Austrian corps
captured at Bregenz, we were led inside; there Napoleon, without
blinking an eyelid, and as if he had never seen us before, took the
letter from Augereau,which had been re-sealed, and read it, although
he had been aware of its contents for four days. Then he questioned
us, making us go into the smallest details. Duroc had warned us to
speak out loudly, as the ambassador was a little hard of hearing,
this advice was of no use to Major Massy, who was the leader of the
mission, since he was suffering from a cold and had almost completely
lost his voice, so it was I who replied to the Emperor, and taking a
lead from him, I painted in the most vivid colours the defeat of the
Austrians, their despondency, and the enthusiasm of the French. 
Then, presenting the trophies one after the other, I named the
Austrian regiments to which they had once belonged. I laid
particular stress on two of them, because I knew that their capture
would have a powerful effect on the ambassador, "Here," I said "is
the flag of the infantry regiment of his Majesty the Emperor of
Austria, and there is the standard of the Uhlans, commanded by the
Archduke Charles, his brother." Napoleon's eyes twinkled, and he
seemed to say, "Well done young man!" At last he dismissed us, and
as we left we heard him say to the ambassador, "You see, monsieur le
Comte, my armies are everywhere triumphant.... The Austrian army is
no more, and soon the same fate will befall the Russians." Count
Haugwitz seemed deeply impressed, and Duroc said to us, after we had
left the room, "The count will write tonight to Berlin, to tell his
government of the destruction of Jellachich's force, which will put a
damper on the war party, and give the king new reasons for holding
off. Which is what the Emperor very much wants."

This comedy having been played out, The Emperor, to be rid of a
dangerous onlooker who could give an account of the disposition of
his forces, suggested to Count Haugwitz that it was not very safe for
him to remain between two armies which were about to come to blows,
and persuaded him to go to Vienna to M. Tallyrand, his minister for
foreign affairs, which he did that same evening.

The following day the Emperor said nothing to us about the scene
which had been enacted the previous evening, but wishing, no doubt,
to give some sign of his satisfaction with the manner in which we had
played our parts, he asked Major Massy, kindly, about the progress of
his cold, and he pinched my ear, which with him was a sort of caress.

Now the dénouement of the great drama was approaching and both
sides were preparing for the coming struggle. Nearly all military
authors so overload their narrative with details that they confuse
the mind of the reader, to the extent that, in most of the published
works on the wars of the Empire which I have read, I have been
unable to understand the description of several of the battles in
which I myself have taken part, and the various phases of which I
know. I think that to preserve clarity in the description of an
action, one needs to limit oneself to indicating the respective
positions of the two armies, prior to the engagement, and to
recounting only the principal and decisive events in the combat. 
This is what I shall attempt to do.

The coming battle is known as the Battle of Austerlitz, although
it took place some distance from the village of that name: the reason
for this is that, on the eve of the battle, the Emperors of Austria
and Russia had slept in the Château of Austerlitz, out of which
Napoleon drove them.

You will see on the map that a stream, the Goldbach, which rises
on the far side of the road to Olmutz, flows into a pool called
Menitz. This stream, which runs in a little valley with quite steep
banks, separated the two armies. The right of the Austro-Russian
forces lay on a wooded escarpment, situated behind the post-house of
Posoritz, on the far side of the Olmutz road; their centre occupied
Pratzen and the vast plateau of that name, and their left was near
the meres of Satschan and the neighbouring marshes. The Emperor
placed his left flank on a little hill, very difficult of access,
which our men who had been in Egypt called the Santon (a holy man's
grave) because it was surmounted by a small chapel, the roof of
which had the appearance of a minaret. The French centre was near
the pool of Kobolnitz, and the right was at Telnitz. The Emperor had
put very few troops there in order to tempt the Russians into the
marshy ground, where he had prepared their defeat by concealing in
Gross-Raigern, on the road to Vienna, the corps of Marshal Davout.

On the 1st December, the eve of the battle, Napoleon left Brunn in
the morning and spent all day examining the positions; in the evening
he set up his headquarters behind the French centre, at a spot from
where could be seen the camps of both armies and the area which would
form their battlefield the next day. There was no building in the
vicinity but a dilapidated barn, and it was there that were placed
the Emperor's tables and maps, while he himself took up a position
by a huge fire, surrounded by his numerous staff and his guards.
Happily there was no snow, although it was very cold. I bedded down
on the ground and fell into a deep sleep; but soon we had to remount
our horses to accompany the Emperor, who was about to visit his
troops. There was no moon, and the obscurity of the night was
increased by a thick mist which made progress difficult. The
troopers of the Emperor's escort had the idea of lighting torches made
of pinewood and straw which were most useful. The soldiers, seeing
the approach of a group of mounted men thus illuminated, could easily
distinguish the imperial staff, and in an instant, as if by magic,
one saw all our camp lit up by torches carried by the men who
greeted the Emperor with cheer, made all the louder because the next
day would be the anniversary of his coronation, a coincidence which
seemed to them to be a good augury. The enemy must have been greatly
astonished when, from the height of the neighbouring slope, they
saw in the middle of the night, the light of sixty thousand torches
and heard the repeated cheers of "Vive l'Empereur!" mingled with the
sound of the regimental bands. All was gaiety, light and movement in
our camp, while, on the Austro-Russian side, all was dark and silent.

The next day, the 2nd December, the cannons were heard at
daybreak. We have seen that the Emperor had deployed few troops on
his right wing; a bait which he dangled before the enemy, who would
see the apparent possibility of taking Telnitz easily, and then
crossing the Goldbach and going on to Gross-Raigern in order to
control the road from Brunn to Vienna and so cut off our line of
retreat. The Austro-Russians fell headlong into the trap, and,
thinning out the rest of their line, they clumsily piled up a
considerable force in the lower part of Telnitz, and in the narrow,
marshy defiles around the meres of Satschan and Menitz. They
thought, for some unknown reason, that Napoleon was considering
withdrawing, without facing a battle, so to hasten this move they
decided to attack us at the Santon on our left and at our centre
before Puntowitz, so that, being defeated at these two points, and
forced to retreat, we would find the road to Vienna cut by the
Russian troops. But on our left Marshal Lannes not only repelled
all the enemy attacks on the Santon, but drove them back across the
Olmutz road as far as Blasiowitz, where the more level ground allowed
Murat's cavalry to make several very effective charges, which
compelled the Russians to retire hurriedly to the village of
Austerlitz.

While our left was achieving this brilliant success, the centre,
consisting of the troops of Marshals Soult and Bernadotte, who had
been placed by the Emperor in the valley of the Goldbach where they
were hidden by a thick mist, advanced towards the slope on which
stood the village of Pratzen. It was at this moment that the bright
"Sunshine of Austerlitz" appeared, the memory of which Napoleon was
pleased so frequently to recall. Marshal Soult took not only the
village of Pratzen but also the great plateau of that name, which is
the high point of the surrounding country, and, in consequence, the
key to the battlefield. Here took place, before the eyes of the
Emperor, a very sharp engagement in which the Russians were
defeated; but a battalion of the 4th Line regiment, commanded by
Prince Joseph, Napoleon's brother, went too far in pursuit of the
enemy and was charged and over-run by the horse-guards and
Cuirassiers of the Grand-duke Constantin, the brother of Alexander,
who captured their Eagle. A force of Russian cavalry advanced
rapidly to support the momentary success of the horse-guards; but
Napoleon sent against them the Mamelukes, the light cavalry and the
mounted Grenadiers of his guard, led by Marshal Bessières and General
Rapp, and a most sanguinary melée ensued. The Russian squadrons were
overcome and driven back beyond the village of Austerlitz with great
losses. Our cavalry captured many standards and prisoners, among
whom was Prince Repnin, the commander of the horse-guards. This
regiment, made up of the most glittering youth of the Russian
nobility, suffered many casualties. The boastful threats which they
had made concerning the French were known to our men, who in reply
said that they would give the ladies of St. Petersburg something to cry
about.

The painter Gérard, in his picture of the Battle of Austerlitz,
has taken as his subject the moment when General Rapp, leaving the
battle, wounded and covered in his own and the enemies' blood, is
presenting to the Emperor the flags which have been captured as well
as Prince Repnin, his prisoner. I was present at this memorable
scene, which the painter has reproduced with remarkable exactness. 
All the heads are portraits, even that of the brave trooper, who
without complaining, though shot through the body, fell dead at the
feet of the Emperor as he presented the standard which he had just
captured. Napoleon, to honour the memory of this brave Chasseur,
ordered the painter to include him in his composition. One can see
also in this picture a Mameluke, who carries in one hand an enemy
flag, and with the other holds the bridle of his wounded horse. This
man, named Mustapha, known in the guards for his courage and
ferocity, had set off, during the charge, in pursuit of the
Grand-duke Constantin, who was only able to get rid of him by firing
a pistol shot which mortally wounded his horse. Mustapha, grieved at
having only a standard to offer the Emperor, said in his broken
French, when he presented it, "Ah! If me catch Prince Constantin, me
cut off head and bring to Emperor!" Napoleon replied indignantly, 
"You be quiet! You wicked savage!"

Let us now finish the story of the battle. While Marshals Lannes,
Soult and Murat attacked the centre and right of the Austro-Russians
and drove them back beyond the village of Austerlitz, the enemy left,
having fallen into the trap which the Emperor had prepared for them,
attacked the village of Telnitz and took possession of it, then,
crossing the Goldbach, they prepared to occupy the road to Vienna;
but they had greatly underestimated the skill of Napoleon in thinking
that he would neglect to defend his route of retreat in case of
misfortune. Marshal Davout's divisions were concealed in
Gross-Regairn and from that point he fell on the Russians as soon as
he saw that their massed troops were held up in the defiles between
the meres of Telnitz, Menitz and the rivulet.

The Emperor, whom we left on the plateau of Pratzen, free of the
right and centre of the enemy, who were retreating in disorder beyond
Austerlitz, came down from the heights of Pratzen and hurried with
Marshal Soult's corps and all his guard, infantry, cavalry and
artillery, towards Telnitz; where he attacked in the rear the enemy
columns which Marshal Davout was attacking in front. From this
moment, the cumbersome masses of the Austro-Russians, crammed
together on the narrow pathways which ran alongside the Goldbach,
finding themselves between two fires, fell into indescribable
confusion. The ranks broke down and each man sought his own safety
in flight. Some rushed into the marshes around the meres, but our
infantry followed them; others tried to escape down the road which
runs between the two meres, but our cavalry charged them with fearful
slaughter; the largest body of men, principally Russians, tried to
get across the frozen meres, and already a great number were on the
ice of Lake Satschan when Napoleon ordered his gunners to fire on
them. The ice broke in many places with a loud cracking sound and we
saw a host of Russians with their horses wagons and guns slide slowly
into the depths. The surface of the lake was covered with men and
horses struggling amid the ice and water. A few were saved, helped
by poles and ropes which our men held out to them from the bank, but
many were drowned.

The number of combatants at the Emperor's disposal in this battle
was sixty-eight thousand men. The Austro-Russians had ninety-two
thousand. Our losses in killed and wounded were about eight
thousand, the enemy stated that their losses in killed wounded and
drowned amounted to fourteen thousand. We took eighteen thousand
prisoners and captured one hundred and fifty cannons, as well as a
great number of flags, standards, etc.

After giving orders to pursue the enemy in all directions, the
Emperor went to his new headquarters in the post-house at Posoritz,
on the Olmutz road. He was highly delighted as you may imagine,
although he several times expressed regret that the only Eagle we had
lost was that of the fourth line regiment, of which his brother,
Prince Joseph, was colonel. The fact that this had been captured by
the regiment of the Grand-duke Constantin, the Emperor of Russia's
brother, made the loss even more annoying.

Napoleon soon had a great consolation; Prince Jean of Lichtenstein
came, on behalf of the Emperor of Austria, to request a meeting, and
Napoleon, realising that this would lead to peace and remove the
fear of having the Prussians attack the French rear before he had
rid himself of his present enemies, readily agreed to the proposal.

Of all the units of the Imperial Guard, the regiment of Mounted
Chasseurs was the one which suffered the most casualties in the great
charge made on the Pratzen plateau against the Russian Guard. My
poor friend Fournier was killed, as was General Morland. It is said
that Napoleon intended to have the body of General Morland interred
in a mausoleum which he meant to have built in the centre of the
Esplanade des Invalides, and that it was preserved in a cask of rum
for that reason. But the mausoleum was never built, and it is alleged
that the general's body was still in a room in the school of medicine
when Napoleon lost his Empire in 1814.

I was not wounded at Austerlitz, although I was often exposed to
danger, notably during the melée with the Russian cavalry on the
Pratzen plateau. The Emperor had sent me to take some orders to
General Rapp, whom I found it very difficult to reach amid the
appalling confusion of the embattled soldiery. My horse was crushed
up against that of a Russian horse-guard and our sabres were about to
clash when we were separated by other combatants; I came away with a
large bruise. However, the next day I ran into a more serious danger,
one that one does not expect to meet on the field of battle.

On the morning of the 3rd of December, the day after the battle,
the Emperor mounted his horse and went round all the places where
action had taken place on the previous day. Having arrived at the
mere of Satschan, Napoleon dismounted and was chatting round a fire
with a number of marshals, when we saw, some hundred paces from the
bank, a large slab of ice on which lay a poor Russian sergeant, who
was unable to help himself because of a bullet wound in his thigh. 
Seeing the large group on the bank, the soldier raised his voice and
pleaded for help, saying that when the fighting was over we were all
brother soldiers. When his interpreter translated this, Napoleon was
touched and ordered General Bertrand to do what he could to rescue
the wretched Russian.

Several men of the escort, and even two staff officers, attempted
to reach the Russian using two tree trunks which they pushed into
the water, but they ended up by falling in with all their clothes on,
and having difficulty in getting out. It then occurred to me to say
that they should have entered the water naked, so that their
movements would not be hampered, and they would not have to wear wet
clothing. This observation was repeated to the Emperor, who said
that I was right, and that the others had shown zeal without
forethought. I have no wish to make myself out to be better than I
am; I can assure you that, having just taken part in a battle where I
had seen thousands of dead and dying, my emotions were blunted, I did
not feel sufficiently philanthropic to risk pneumonia by struggling
amongst the ice floes to save the life of an enemy soldier, however
much I deplored his unhappy lot; but the Emperor's remark stung me
into action, it seemed to me ridiculous that I should offer advice
which I was not prepared to put into action. I jumped off my horse,
stripped off my clothes and leapt into the lake.

I had been very active during the day, and was warm; the water
felt bitterly cold, but I was young and vigourous, a very good
swimmer, and encouraged by the presence of the Emperor, I was making
towards the Russian, when my example and probably the praise I
received from the Emperor, persuaded a lieutenant of artillery named
Roumestain to come after me.

While he was undressing, I pushed on, but I had more difficulty
than I had foreseen in forcing my way through the thin layer of new
ice which was forming on the water, the sharp edges of which
inflicted many scrapes and scratches. The officer who followed me
was able to make use of the sort of path which I had made, and when
he reached me, he volunteered to take the lead, to give me some
relief. We eventually reached the large block of ice on which the
Russian lay, but it was only with the greatest difficulty that we
managed to push it near enough to the shore for the man to be
rescued. We were both so cold and exhausted that we had to be lifted
out of the water, and we were hardly able to stand. My good comrade
Massy, who had watched me with much anxiety during this swim, had had
the forethought to warm his horse's blanket before the fire, which he
wrapped round me as soon as I was out of the water. After I had
dried myself and dressed, I wanted to lie beside the fire, but Doctor
Larrey was against this and told me to walk around, something I was
unable to do without the aid of two troopers. The Emperor came to
congratulate the two of us on the courage with which we had
undertaken the rescue of the wounded Russian, and calling for his
Mameluke, Roustan, whose horse was always loaded with provisions, he
poured out for us a tot of rum each, and asked us, laughing, how we
had enjoyed the bath.

As for the Russian sergeant, after his wound had been dressed by
Doctor Larrey, Napoleon gave him several gold coins. He was wrapped
in warm coverings and put in one of the houses of Telnitz which was
acting as a dressing station; the next day he was taken to the
hospital at Brunn. The poor lad blessed the Emperor as well as
Roumestain and me, and wanted to kiss our hands. He was a
Lithuanian, that is to say, born in a former province of Poland,
which is now part of Russia. As soon as he had recovered, he
announced that he wished now to serve no one but Napoleon. He was
sent back to France with our own wounded and subsequently joined the
Polish legion. In the end he became a sergeant in the lancers of the
guard, and each time I met him, he gave me a warm greeting.

The ice-cold bath which I had taken and the almost superhuman
efforts I had made to rescue the Russian could have cost me dear had
I been less young and strongly built; for Lieutenant Roumestain, who
did not possess the latter of these two advantages to the same
extent, was taken that same evening with a severe chest infection. 
He had to be taken to the hospital at Brunn, where he spent several
months between life and death. He never recovered completely, and
his poor health forced him to resign from the service some years
later.

As for me, although I felt very weak, I mounted my horse when the
Emperor left to go to the château of Austerlitz, where his
headquarters had been set up. Napoleon never went anywhere except at
the gallop; in my bruised state this pace was hardly suitable,
however I followed on, since night was approaching, and I feared to
be left behind, and anyway, if I had ridden at a walk, I would have
been overcome by the cold.

When I arrived at the courtyard of the château of Austerlitz, I
had to be helped off my horse. A violent shivering took me, my teeth
chattered and I felt very ill. Colonel Dahlmann, a major in the
Mounted Chasseurs, who had just been promoted to replace Colonel
Morland, remembering, no doubt, the service I had rendered to the
latter, took, me into one of the château's barns, where he had
established himself with his officers. There, after giving me some
hot tea, his medical officer massaged me with warm oil, I was wrapped
in several blankets and put into an enormous pile of hay with only my
face exposed. A gentle warmth crept slowly back into my benumbed
limbs; I slept very soundly and thanks to these ministrations and my
twenty-three years, I awoke the next day fully recovered and able to
mount my horse and to observe a spectacle of great interest.

Chap. 27.

The defeat suffered by the Russians had thrown their army into
such confusion that all those who had escaped from the disaster of
Austerlitz, hastened to Galicia to get out of reach of the victor. 
The rout was complete: the French took a great number of prisoners,
and found the roads covered with cannons and abandoned baggage. The
Emperor of Russia, who had believed he was marching to certain
victory, withdrew, stricken with grief, and authorised his ally,
Francis II to treat with Napoleon. In the evening following the
battle, the Austrian Emperor, in order to save his country from total
ruin, had sent a request for an interview to the French Emperor, and
when Napoleon had agreed to this, he went to the village of
Nasiedlowitz. The meeting took place on the 4th of December, near the
Poleny mill, between the lines of the French and the Austrian
outposts. I was at this memorable conference.

Napoleon left the château of Austerlitz early in the morning,
accompanied by his large staff. He arrived first at the rendezvous,
dismounted and strolled around until he saw the Emperor of Austria
arrive. He went over to him and embraced him warmly.... A spectacle
which might well inspire some philosophical reflection! A German
Emperor coming to humble himself and solicit peace from a little
Corsican gentleman, recently a second lieutenant of artillery, whose
talents, good fortune and the courage of the French armies had raised
to the pinnacle of power and made arbiter of the destiny of Europe.

Napoleon did not abuse the position in which the Austrian Emperor
found himself; he was attentive and extremely polite, as far as could
be judged from the distance which was respectfully maintained by the
two general staffs. An armistice was arranged between the two
sovereigns which stipulated that both parties should send
plenipotentiaries to Brunn in order to negotiate a peace treaty
between France and Austria. The two Emperors embraced once more on
parting; the Germans returned to Nasiedlowitz, and Napoleon returned
to spend the night at Austerlitz. He spent two days there, during
which time he gave Major Massy and me our final audience, and charged
us to tell Marshal Augereau all that we had seen; he gave us at the
same time some despatches for the court of Bavaria, which had
returned to Munich, and informed us that Marshal Augereau had left
Bregenz and that we would find him at Ulm. We went back to Vienna
and continued our journey, travelling day and night in spite of the
heavy falls of snow.

I shall not go into any details of the political changes which
resulted from the Battle of Austerlitz and the Peace of Presburg. 
The Emperor went to Vienna and from there to Munich, where he had to
assist at the marriage of his step-son, Eugène de Beauharnais to the
daughter of the King of Bavaria. It seems that the despatches which
we carried to this court were concerning this marriage; for we could
not have had a better reception. However, we stayed only a few hours
in Munich and went on to Ulm, where we found Marshal Augereau and
7th Corps, and where we stayed for a fortnight.

In order to move 7th Corps gradually nearer to the electorate of
Hesse, a close ally of Prussia, Napoleon ordered it to move to
Heidelburg, where we arrived about the end of December and saw the
beginning of the year 1806. After a short stay in this town, 7th
Corps went to Darmstadt, the capital of the landgrave of
Hesse-Darmstadt, a prince much attached to the King of Prussia by
family ties as well as politics. Although this prince had, on
accepting Hanover, concluded a treaty of alliance with Napoleon, he
had done so with reluctance, and was suspicious of the approach of
the French army.

Marshal Augereau, before taking his troops into the country of
Darmstadt, considered it his duty to inform the landgrave, by letter,
of his intentions, and he chose me to effect its delivery. The
journey was one of only fifteen leagues; I made it in a night; but on
my arrival at Darmstadt I found that the landgrave, to whom it had
been suggested that the French intended to make him a prisoner, had
left his residence and retired to another part of his state from
where he could easily take refuge in Prussia. This created a
difficulty for me, however, having heard that his wife was still in
the palace, I asked to be presented to her.

The princess, whose person greatly resembled the portraits of the
Empress Catherine of Russia, had, like her, a masculine character,
great capability, and all the qualities necessary to control a vast
empire. She also governed her husband as she did her states; she was
a masterful woman, and when she saw the letter in my hands, addressed
to the landgrave, she took it without further ado, as if it had been
addressed her. She then told me quite frankly, that it had been on
her advice that her husband had left on the approach of the French,
but that she would arrange for him to come back if the marshal would
give her an assurance that he did not have any orders to make an
attempt on the liberty of the prince. I understood that the arrest
and death of the Duc d'Enghien had frightened all those princes who
thought that Napoleon might have some reason to complain about their
alliances. I protested, as much as I could, the innocence of the
French government's intentions, and offered to go back to Heidelburg
and ask Marshal Augereau for the assurances which she required, an
offer which she accepted.

I left, and returned the next day with a letter from the marshal,
couched in such conciliatory terms that the landgravine, after saying
that she relied on the honour of a French marshal, went immediately
to Giessen, where the landgrave was, and brought him back to
Darmstadt, where they both received Marshal Augereau most graciously,
when he came to set up his headquarters in the town.
The marshal was so grateful for the confidence which they had
placed in him that several months later, when the Emperor gathered
up all the little European states and reduced their number to
thirty-two, out of which he formed the confederation of the Rhine, he
not only contrived to preserve the landgravate but gained for the
landgrave the title of Grand-Duke and an enlargement of his state
which increased the population from scarcely five hundred thousand to
over one million. Some months later, the new Grand-Duke allied his
army to ours to combat the Russians, and requested that they should
serve in Marshal Augereau's corps. The prince owed not only his
preservation but his elevation to his wife's courage.

Although I was still very young, I thought that Napoleon had made
a mistake in reducing the number of the little German principalities.

The fact is that in previous wars against France, the eight hundred
princes of the Germanic region had been unable to act in unison;
there were some who provided no more than a company, others only a
platoon, and some just one soldier; so that a combination of all
these different contingents made up an army wholly lacking cohesion,
which broke up at the first reverse. But when Napoleon had reduced
the number of the principalities to thirty-two, centralisation began
to appear in the German forces. Those rulers who remained, with
states increased in size, formed a small well-organised army. This
result was what the Emperor had intended, in the expectation of using
for his own ends all the military resources of the country; something
which he was in fact able to do as long as we were successful. But
on the first setback, the thirty-two sovereigns, by agreement among
themselves, united in opposition to France, and their coalition with
the Russians overthrew the Emperor Napoleon, who was thus punished
for not following the ancient policies of the kings of France.

We spent part of the winter at Darmstadt, where there were fêtes,
balls and galas. The grand-duke's troops were commanded by a
competent general named De Stoch. He had a son of my age, a charming
young man with whom I struck up a close friendship, and to whom I
shall refer again.

We were only some ten leagues from Frankfurt-on-main. This town,
still free, and immensely rich as a result of its commerce, had been
for a long time a hot-bed of all the plots contrived against France,
and the place of origin of all the false stories about us which
circulated in Germany. So that, the day after Austerlitz, and while
the news was spreading that there had been an engagement, the result
of which was not yet known, the inhabitants of Frankfurt were sure
that the Russians had won, and several papers indulged their hatred
to the point of saying that the disaster which had overtaken our army
was so great that not a single Frenchman had survived!... The Emperor,
to whom all this was reported, appeared to take no notice until,
seeing the likelihood of a break with Prussia, he gradually moved his
armies to the frontiers of that kingdom. Then, to punish the
impertinence of the Frankfurters, he ordered Marshal Augereau to
leave Darmstadt without warning, and to establish himself with his
army corps in Frankfurt and its surroundings.

The Emperor decreed that the city, on the entry of our troops,
should give, as a welcome, a louis d'or to each soldier, two to the
corporals, three to the sergeants, ten to second lieutenants and so
on! The inhabitants were also to lodge and feed the soldiers and pay
messing expenses of six hundred francs daily for the marshal, four
hundred for a divisional general, three hundred for a
brigadier-general and two hundred for the colonels. The senate was
instructed to pay every month, one million francs into the treasury
in Paris.
The authorities of Frankfurt, appalled by these exorbitant
demands, hurried to the French envoy; but he replied "You claimed
that not a single Frenchman escaped from the arms of the Russians;
the Emperor Napoleon wishes to put you in a position to count the
number making up a single corps of his army. There are six more of
the same size, and the guard to follow." This reply plunged the
inhabitants into consternation, for however great their wealth, they
would be ruined if this state of affairs continued for any length of
time. But Marshal Augereau made an appeal for clemency on behalf of
the citizens, and he was told he could act as he thought best; so he
took it on himself to station in the town only his general staff and
one battalion. The remaining troops were spread around other
neighbouring principalities. The Frankfurters were greatly relieved
by this, and to show their gratitude to Marshal Augereau they treated
him to a great number of fêtes. I was billeted with a rich merchant
named M. Chamot. I spent nearly eight months there, during which time
he and his family looked after me very well.

Chap. 28.

While we were in Frankfurt, a very distressing event affecting an
officer of 7th Corps, landed me with a double mission, the first part
of which was very unpleasant and the second most agreeable, indeed
brilliantly so.

As a result of a brain fever, Lieutenant N... of the 7th Chasseurs
became completely childish. Marshal Augereau detailed me to take him
to Paris, first to Marshal Murat, who had an interest in the matter,
and then, if I was asked to do so, to the Quercy. As I had not seen
my mother since leaving for the campaign of Austerlitz, and I knew
that she was not far from St. Céré, in the Château de Bras, which my
father had bought shortly before his death, I welcomed with pleasure
a mission which would allow me not only to be of service to Marshal
Murat but also to go and spend several days with my mother. Marshal
Augereau lent me a fine carriage and I set off on the road to Paris.
But the heat and insomnia so excited my poor companion that he went
from a state of idiocy to one of mania and nearly killed me with a
blow from a coach spanner. I have never made a more disagreeable
journey. I arrived at last in Paris, and I took Lieutenant N... to
Murat, who was staying for the summer at the Chateau de Neuilly. The
marshal asked me to take the lieutenant to Quercy. I agreed to do so,
in the hope of being able to see my mother again, but I pointed out
that I could not leave for twenty-four hours, because Marshal
Augereau had given me some despatches for the Emperor, whom I was
going to meet at Rambouillet, to where I reported officially the same
day.

I do not know what was in the despatches which I was carrying, but
they made the Emperor very thoughtful. He sent for M. de Tallyrand and
left with him for Paris to where he ordered me to follow him and
present myself to Marshal Duroc that evening.

I waited for a long time in one of the salons of the Tuileries,
until Marshal Duroc, coming out of the Emperor's study, the door of
which was left half open, called for an orderly officer to get
ready set off on a long mission. But Napoleon called out, "Duroc,
that will not be necessary; we have Marbot here, who is going to
rejoin Augereau; he can push on to Berlin. Frankfurt is half way
there." So Marshal Duroc told me to prepare to go to Berlin with the
Emperor's despatches. This was disappointing as it meant that I had
to give up all hope of seeing my mother; but I had to resign myself. 
I hurried to Neuilly to tell Murat what had happened and as I
believed that my new mission was very urgent, I returned to the
Tuileries; but Marshal Duroc dismissed me until the next day. I was
there at dawn: I was dismissed until evening; then the evening of the
next day, and so on for more than a week. However, I remained
patient, because each time I presented myself, Marshal Duroc kept me
for only a minute, which allowed me time to get around Paris. I had
been given quite a large sum of money for the purpose of buying
myself new uniform, so as to appear well turned out before the king
of Prussia, into whose hands I was personally to deliver a letter
from the Emperor. You will understand that Napoleon neglected no
detail when it came to enhancing the standing of the French army in
the eyes of foreigners.

I left at last, after taking the despatches from the Emperor, who
advised me that I should make sure that I carefully examined the
Prussian troops, their bearing, their arms, their horses, etc. M. de
Tallyrand gave me a packet for M. Laforest, the French ambassador in
Berlin, to whose embassy I was to go. On my arrival at Maintz, which
at that time was still part of French territory, I was told that
Marshal Augereau was at Wiesbaden. I reported to him there and
greatly surprised him by telling him that I was going to Berlin on
the Emperor's orders. He congratulated me and told me to continue my
journey. I travelled night and day, in superb July weather, and
arrived in Berlin somewhat weary. At this period the Prussian roads
were not yet metalled, one went almost always at walking pace over
loose soil into which the coaches sank deeply, raising clouds of
unbearable dust.

I was given a warm welcome by M. Laforest, at whose embassy I
stayed. I was presented to the king and queen, and also to the
princes and princesses. When the king received the letter from
Napoleon, he seemed much affected. He was a fine figure of a man,
with a benevolent expression, but lacking that animation which
suggests a decisive character. The queen was really very pretty; she
had only one blemish, she always wore a large scarf, in order, it was
said, to conceal an ulcerated swelling on her neck. For the rest,
she was graceful and her expression, calm and spiritual, was evidence
of a firm personality.

I was very well received, and since the reply which I was to take
back to the Emperor seemed so difficult to draft that it took more
than a month, the queen was pleased to invite me to the balls and
fêtes which she gave during my stay.

Of all the members of the royal family, the one who treated me in
the most friendly manner, or so it seemed, was Prince Louis, the
king's nephew.

I had been warned that he hated the French, and in particular,
their Emperor, but as he was passionately interested in military
matters, he questioned me endlessly about the siege of Genoa, the
battles of Marengo and Austerlitz and also about the organisation of
our army. Prince Louis was a most handsome man, and in respect of
spirit, ability and character, the only one of the royal family who
bore any resemblance to Frederick the Great. I made the acquaintance
of several members of the court, mainly with the officers whom I
followed daily to parades and manoeuvres. I spent my time in Berlin
very pleasantly. The ambassador showed me much attention; but in the
end I discovered that he wanted me to play, in a delicate affair, a
role for which I was unsuited, so I became very reserved.

Now, let us examine the position of Prussia vis-à-vis France. The
despatches which I had brought concerned this matter, as I later
found out.

In accepting from Napoleon the gift of the electorate of
Hanover, the patrimony of the English royal family, the cabinet in
Berlin had alienated not only the anti-French party but almost all of
the Prussian nation. Germanic pride was wounded by the victories won
by the French over the Austrians, and Prussia feared that its
commerce would be ruined by the war which had just been declared
against it by the cabinet in London. The queen and Prince Louis made
use of these turbulent emotions to persuade the king to make war on
France by allying himself with Russia who, though abandoned by
Austria, still hoped to take revenge for its defeat at Austerlitz. 
The Emperor of Russia was further encouraged in his plans by a Pole,
his favourite aide-de-camp, Prince Czartoryski.

The anti-French party, which was growing daily, was not yet able
to persuade the king to break with Napoleon; but aware that it was
supported by Russia, this party redoubled its efforts, and profited
adroitly from the mistakes made by Napoleon in placing his brother
Louis on the throne of Holland, and nominating himself as protector
of the confederacy of the Rhine: acts which were represented to the
Prussian king as being steps on the path to the re-establishment of
the empire of Charlemagne. Napoleon, it was said, wanted finally to
reduce all the sovereigns of Germany to the status of vassals.

These assertions, though greatly exaggerated, had had a
considerable influence on the king's thinking. His conduct toward
France became from this time, more and more equivocal, and it was
this that decided Napoleon to write to him personally, without going
through the usual diplomatic channels, to ask "Are you for me or
against me?" This was the tenor of the letter which I had given the
king. His councillors who wished to gain time for the completion of
their re-armament, delayed the reply, which was the reason for my
long stay in Berlin.

At last, in August, there was a general explosion of ill-feeling
towards France, and one saw the queen, Prince Louis, the nobility,
the army and the general populace, noisily demanding war. The king
allowed himself to become involved but, although determined to end
the peace he still hoped to avoid hostilities, and it seems that in
his reply to the Emperor he undertook to disarm if the latter would
take back to France all the troops he had in Germany, which Napoleon
was unwilling to do until Prussia had disarmed. So we were in a
vicious circle which could be broken only by a war.

Before I left Berlin, I witnessed the frenzy to which hatred of
Napoleon raised this normally placid people. The officers whom I
knew no longer dared to speak to me or even to greet me. Several
French people were insulted by the populace, and finally soldiers of
the Royal Guard came boastfully to sharpen their sabres on the stone
steps of the French embassy. I left hurriedly for Paris, taking with
me much information on what was going on in Prussia. Passing through
Frankfurt, I found Marshal Augereau very sad at having heard of the
death of his wife, a good, excellent woman whose loss he felt deeply,
and who was mourned by all the general staff, for she had been very
kind to us.

On my arrival in Paris, I delivered to the Emperor the
hand-written reply from the King of Prussia. After reading it, he
questioned me on what I had seen in Berlin. When I told him that the
soldiers of the guard had come to sharpen their sabres on the steps
of the French embassy, he clapped his hand firmly on the hilt of his
sword, exclaiming indignantly, "The insolent braggarts will soon
learn that our arms are in good order!"

My mission now being over, I returned to Marshal Augereau, and
spent all of September in Frankfurt where, while preparing ourselves
for war, we entertained ourselves as best we could, for we thought
that as nothing could be more uncertain than the life of a soldier,
one should enjoy it as much as is possible.

Chap. 29.

While the different corps of the French army were approaching the
banks of the Main, the Emperor arrived at Wurtzburg and crossed the
Rhine with his Guard. The Prussians, for their part, were on the
march, and going through Saxony, they compelled the elector to join
forces with them. This enforced, and therefore unstable, alliance was
the only one which the King of Prussia had in Germany. He was, it is
true, expecting the arrival of the Russians, but their army was still
in Poland behind the Niemen, more than one hundred and fifty leagues
from the country where the destiny of Prussia was to be decided.

It is hard to believe the incompetence displayed, for seven years,
by our enemies' governments. We saw, in 1805, the Austrians attack
us on the Danube, and be defeated in isolation at Ulm, instead of
waiting for Russia to join them and for Prussia to declare war on
Napoleon. Now, in 1806, those same Prussians who, a year before,
could have prevented the defeat of the Austro-Russians by joining
them, not only declared war on us when we were at peace with Vienna,
but repeated the mistake of attacking us without waiting for the
Russians! Finally, in 1809, the Austrians renewed the war against
Napoleon on their own, at a time when we were at peace with both
Prussia and Russia! This lack of co-operation ensured a French
victory. Sadly it was not so in 1813, when we were crushed by a
coalition of our enemies.

In 1806 the King of Prussia was even more mistaken in taking to
the field against Napoleon in the absence of the Russians, in that
his troops, although well trained, were in no condition to be pitted
against ours, because their composition and organisation were so bad.

In effect, at this time, Prussian captains were the owners of their
company or squadron: men, horses, arms and clothing all belonged to
them and the whole unit was hired out to the government for a fixed
fee. Obviously, since all losses fell to their account, the captains
had a great interest in sparing their companies, not only on the
march but on the field of battle. As the number of men they were
obliged to have was fixed and there was no conscription, they
enrolled for money, first any Prussians who came forward, and then
all the vagabonds of Europe, whom their recruiters enlisted in
neighbouring states. But this was not enough, and the Prussian
recruiters pressed many men into service, who having become soldiers
against their will, were compelled to serve until they were too old
to bear arms; then they were given a permit to beg, for Prussia could
not afford to provide a home for old soldiers or a retirement
pension. For the duration of their service these men had to be mixed
with true Prussians, who had to constitute at least half of each
company to prevent mutiny.

To maintain an army composed of such heterogeneous parts required
an iron discipline; so the least fault was punished by beating. A
large number of N.C.O.s, all of them Prussian, carried canes which
they made use of frequently, and according to the current expression
there was a cane for every seven men. The penalty for desertion by a
foreign soldier was inevitably death. You can imagine the frightful
position of these foreigners, who having enlisted in a moment of
drunkenness, or been taken by force, found themselves far from their
native land, under a glacial sky, condemned to be Prussian soldiers,
that is slaves, for the rest of their lives! And what a life it was!
Given scarcely enough to eat. Sleeping on straw. Thinly clad. Without
greatcoats, even in the coldest winter, and paid a sum insufficient
for their needs; they did not wait to beg until they had been given a
permit on their discharge, for when they were not under the eyes of
their superiors, they held out their hands, and there were several
occasions both at Potsdam and Berlin when Grenadiers, even those at
the palace gate, begged me for alms!

The Prussian-born officers were, in general, educated men, who
performed their duties very well; but half of the officers, born
outside the kingdom, were poor gentlemen from almost every country in
Europe who had joined the army only to have a living, and lacking
patriotism, were in no way devoted to Prussia, which the majority
abandoned when there was any adversity. Finally, as promotion was
only by length of service, the great majority of senior Prussian
officers were old and infirm, and in no state to support the fatigues
of war. It was an army thus composed and commanded which was to
confront the victors of Italy, Egypt, Germany and Austerlitz. This
was folly. But the cabinet in Berlin, recalling the victories which
Frederick the Great had won with mercenary troops, hoped things would
be the same. They forgot that times had changed.

On the 6th of October Marshal Augereau and 7th Corps left
Frankfurt to head, with the rest of the Grande Armée, for the
frontiers of Saxony, already occupied by the Prussians. The autumn
was superb; it froze a little during the night, but by day there was
brilliant sunshine. My little troupe was well organised; I had a
good batman, Francois Woirland, a former soldier in the black legion,
a real rascal and a great scrounger, but these are the best servants
on a campaign, for with one of them one lacks for nothing. I had
three excellent horses, good weapons, a little money and good health;
so I stepped out gaily to face whatever the future might bring.

We went first to Aschaffenburg and from there to Wurtzburg, where
we caught up with the Emperor, who ordered a march-past by the troops
of 7th Corps, who were in good heart. Napoleon who kept a dossier
about all the regiments, and who skillfully used to employ extracts
from it to flatter the self-esteem of each unit, said when he saw the
44th line regiment, "Of all the units of the army you are the one
with the most long service chevrons, so your three battalions I count
as six!"...an announcement which was greeted by cheers. To the 7th,
composed mostly of men from the lower Languedoc and the Pyrenees, the
Emperor said, "There are the best marchers in the army, one never
sees anyone fall behind, particularly when there is a battle to be
fought." Then he added, laughingly, "But, to do you justice, I must
say that you are the most brawling, thieving unit in the army!" "It's true! It's true!" replied the soldiers, each of whom had a
duck, a chicken or a goose in his knapsack, an abuse which had to be
tolerated, because, as I have told you, Napoleon's armies, once in
the field, rarely received any rations, and had to live off the
country as well as they could. This system had without doubt many
defects, but it had one huge benefit, that of allowing us to move
forward without being held up by convoys and supply lines, which gave
us a great advantage over an enemy whose movements were subordinated
to the cook-house, or the arrival of bread, and to the progress of
herds of cattle, etc...etc.

From Wurtzburg, 7th Corps went to Coburg, where the marshal was
lodged in the prince's palace. All his family had fled on our
approach, except the celebrated Austrian Field-marshal, the Prince of
Coburg. This old warrior, although he had fought for many years
against the French, had enough confidence in the French character to
await their coming, a confidence which was not misplaced, for Marshal
Augereau sent him a guard of honour, returned promptly a visit he had
received, and ordered that he was to be treated with the utmost
respect.

We were not very far from the Prussians, whose king was at Erfurt.
The queen was with him and rode up and down the ranks of the army on
horseback, endeavouring to excite their ardour by her presence. 
Napoleon did not think that this was behaviour befitting a princess,
and his bulletins made some wounding comments on the subject. The
French and Prussian advance-guards met eventually, at Schleitz:
where there took place, in view of the Emperor, a minor action in
which the enemy were defeated; it was for them an ill-omened
beginning.

That same day, Prince Louis, with a body of ten thousand men,
found himself stationed in Saalfeld. This town is on the bank of the
River Saale, in the middle of a plain which we could reach only by
crossing some steep mountains. While Marshals Lannes' and Augereau's
corps were moving toward Saalfeld through these mountains, Prince
Louis, who had decided to await the French, should have occupied
positions in this difficult country, full of narrow passes, where a
few men could hold up a much greater number, but he failed to do
this, probably because he was convinced that the Prussian soldiers
were infinitely better than the French. He carried this scorn for
all precautions so far as to place part of his force in front of a
marshy stream, which would make their retreat very difficult in the
event of a reverse. Old General Muller, a Swiss in the service of
Prussia, whom the king had attached to his nephew as a steadying
influence, made some observations which the prince took very badly,
adding that there was no need to take precautions to beat the French,
all that was needed was to fall on them the moment they appeared.

They appeared in the morning on the 10th; Marshal Lannes' corps
leading and Marshal Augereau's behind him. This last did not arrive
in time to take part in the action where, as it happened, their
presence was not needed, for Marshal Lannes' troops were more than
sufficient.

While waiting for his corps to emerge onto the plain, Marshal
Augereau, accompanied by his staff, went up onto a little hill which
overlooked the open country, from where we could follow all stages of
the action.

Prince Louis could still have retreated to join the Prussian corps
which occupied Jena; but having been the leading instigator of the
war he perhaps felt he should not do so without a fight. He was most
cruelly punished for his temerity. Marshal Lannes, making use of the
heights, at the foot of which Prince Louis had imprudently deployed
his troops, first raked them with grape-shot from his artillery, and
when this had demoralised them, he advanced several masses of
infantry, which descending rapidly from the high ground, swept like a
torrent onto the Prussian battalions and instantly overwhelmed them!
Prince Louis, aghast, and probably aware of his mistake, hoped to
repair it by putting himself at the head of his cavalry and
impetuously attacking the 9th and 10th Hussars. He had at first some
success, but our Hussars having made a new and furious charge, drove
the Prussians back into the marshes, while their infantry fled in
disorder.

In the middle of the melée, Prince Louis found himself engaged
with a sous-officier of the 10th Hussars named Guindet, who summoned
him to surrender; the prince replied with a slash of his sword which
cut the sous-officier's face, who thereupon ran the prince through
and killed him.

After the fight and the complete rout of the enemy, the prince's
body having been recognised, Marshal Lannes had it carried with
honour to the château of Saalfeld, where it was handed to the
princely family of that name, who were allied to the royal house of
Prussia, and in whose residence the prince had spent the previous day
and evening, looking forward to the coming of the French, and even,
it is said, giving a ball for the local ladies. Now he was returned
to them, vanquished and dead!... The next morning I saw the prince's
body, laid out on a marble table, all traces of blood had been
cleaned away, he was naked to the waist, still wearing his leather
britches and his boots. He seemed to be asleep. He was a truly
fine looking man, and I could not help indulging in some sad
reflections on the uncertainty of human affairs, when I saw the
remains of this young man, born on the steps of a throne, and, but
lately, so loved, so courted and so powerful!

The news of the prince's death spread consternation in the enemy
army, and also throughout Prussia, where he was highly popular.

7th Corps spent the day of the 11th at Saalfeld. On the 12th we
went to Neustadt, and on the 13th to Kehla, where we encountered some
remains of the Prussian troops defeated at Saalfeld. When Marshal
Augereau attacked them, they put up little resistance and laid down
their arms. Amongst those captured was the regiment of Prince Henry
in which Augereau had once served as a soldier, and since, unless one
was of high birth, it was very difficult to become a senior officer
in the Prussian army, and as sergeants never became second
lieutenants, his former company still had the same captain and the
same sergeant-major. Placed by a quirk of fate in the presence of
his one-time soldier, now a marshal, the Prussian captain, who
remembered Augereau perfectly well, acted as a man of discretion and
spoke always to the marshal as if he had never seen him before.
Augereau invited him to dinner and seated him next to himself, then,
learning that the officer's baggage had been seized, he lent him all
the money he needed and gave him letters of introduction to take to
France. What must have passed through the captain's mind! But
nothing can describe the astonishment of the old Prussian
sergeant-major at seeing his former soldier covered with decorations,
surrounded by a numerous staff and in command of an army corps! All
of which seemed like a dream! The marshal was more expansive toward
this man than he had been toward the captain. Addressing the
sergeant by name, he shook him by the hand, and arranged for him to
be given twenty-five louis for himself and two for every soldier who
had been in the ranks with him and was still there. We thought this
behaviour was in the best of taste.

The marshal had expected to sleep at Kehla, which is only three
leagues from Jena; but just as night was falling 7th Corps was
ordered to go immediately to this last town which the Emperor had
just entered, at the head of his guard and the troops of Marshal
Lannes, without striking a blow.

The Prussians had abandoned Jena in silence, but some candles,
forgotten in the stables, had probably started the fire, the
spreading flames of which were consuming part of the unfortunate town
when Marshal Augereau's corps entered it at about midnight. It was a
sorry spectacle to see the inhabitants, women and old people, half
naked, carrying their children and seeking to escape by flight from
the scene of destruction, while our soldiers, kept in their ranks by
discipline and the nearness of the enemy, remained unmoved, their
arms at the ready, regarding the fire as a small matter in comparison
to the dangers they would soon have to face.

The part of the town through which our troops arrived was not
affected by the fire and so they could move around freely, and while
they were gathering in the squares and main streets, the marshal set
up his headquarters in a nice looking mansion. I was about to enter,
on returning from delivering an order, when I heard loud shrieks
coming from a nearby house, the door of which was open. I hurried
there and guided by the cries I found my way to a well-appointed
apartment where I saw two charming girls, of about eighteen to
twenty years of age, dressed only in their chemises, struggling
against the advances of four or five soldiers from Hesse-Darmstadt,
belonging to the regiments which the landgrave had attached to the
French troops of 7th Corps. Although these men, who were drunk,
understood not a word of French, and I spoke little German, my
appearance and my threats took them aback, and being used to beatings
from their own officers, they made no retaliation to the kicks and
cuffs which in my indignation I distributed freely in driving them
downstairs. In this I was perhaps a little imprudent, for in the
middle of the night, in a town in utter confusion there was a risk
that they might turn on me and even kill me; but they ran away, and I
put a platoon of the marshal's escort in one of the lower rooms.

I went up to the apartment where the two young girls had
hurriedly dressed themselves, and was rewarded by their warmest
expressions of gratitude. They were the daughters of a university
professor, who had gone with his wife and the domestic staff to the
aid of one of their sisters, who had recently given birth in that
part of the town where the fire was raging, and they had been alone
when the Hessian soldiers arrived. One of these young ladies said to
me with great emotion, "You are going into battle at a time when you
have just saved our honour. God will reward you, you may be sure
that no harm will come to you." The father and the mother, who came
back at this moment with the new mother and her child were at first
much surprised to find me there; but when they learned the reason for
my presence they too showered me with blessings. I tore myself away
from the thanks of this grateful family to rejoin Marshal Augereau,
who was reposing in the nearby mansion, awaiting the Emperor's
orders.

Chap. 30.

The town of Jena is dominated by a height called the
Landgrafenberg, at the foot of which runs the Saale River. The
approaches to Jena are very precipitous, and at that time there was
only one road, which ran to Wiemar via Muhlthal, a long and difficult
pass, the outlet of which was covered by a small wood and guarded by
Saxon troops, allies of the Prussians; a part of whose army was drawn
up in line behind them at the distance of a cannon shot.

The Emperor, having only this one route by which he could reach
his enemies, expected to suffer heavy losses in a frontal attack, for
there seemed to be no way in which they could be outflanked. But
Napoleon's lucky star once more came to his aid, in an unexpected
way, which I do not believe has been related by any historian,
although I can vouch for the truth of it happening.

We have seen that the King of Prussia compelled the elector of
Saxony to join forces with him. The people of Saxony saw themselves,
with regret, drawn into a war which could procure them no advantage
in the future, and which for the present brought desolation to the
countryside, which was the theatre for the hostilities. The Prussians
were therefore detested in Saxony; and Jena, a Saxon town, shared in
this detestation.

A priest who belonged to the town, angered at the fire which was
consuming it, and regarding the Prussians as enemies of his king and
fatherland, believed he could give Napoleon the means of clearing
them out of the country, by showing him a little pathway by which a
body of infantrymen might climb the steep slopes of the
Landgrafenberg. He led there a platoon of light infantry and some
officers of the general staff. The Prussians, who thought this
pathway impracticable, had not bothered to guard it, but Napoleon
thought differently. As a result of the report given him by his
officers, he went up himself, guided by the Saxon curé, and
accompanied by Marshal Lannes; he saw that, between the heights of
the path and the plain occupied by the enemy, there was a small
stony plateau, and he decided to concentrate there a body of troops
who would sally from it, as if from a citadel, to attack the
Prussians.

The undertaking would have been of unsurmountable difficulty for
anyone but a Napoleon in command of French soldiers; but he ordered
the tools used by the pioneers to be taken from the wagons of the
engineers and the artillery and distributed to the infantry
battalions, who worked in rotation for one hour each at widening and
levelling the pathway, and when they had finished their task, each
battalion formed up in silence on the Landgrafenberg, while another
took its place. The work was carried on by the light of torches,
whose flames were confused in the eyes of the enemy with the fires in
Jena.

The nights are very long at this time of year, so that we were
able to make the path accessible not only for foot-soldiers but also
for the wagons of the artillery, with the result that, before
daybreak, the corps of Marshals Lannes and Soult, the first division
of Augereau's, as well as the foot guards, were massed on the
Landgrafenberg. Never has the term massed been used with more
exactitude, for the chest of each man was almost touching the back of
the man in front of him; but the troops were so well disciplined
that, in spite of the darkness and the crowding together of more than
forty thousand men, there was not the least disorder; and although
the enemy were occupying villages less than half a cannon shot away,
they heard nothing.

On the morning of October 14th, a thick mist covered the
countryside, which favoured our movements; Augereau's second
division, making a diversionary attack, advanced from Jena via
Muhlthal on the road to Weimar. As the enemy believed that this was
the only way by which we could come from Jena, they had placed a
considerable force there; but while they prepared to conduct a
vigourous defence of this pass, Napoleon, bringing down from the
Landgrafenberg the troops which he had accumulated there during the
night, drew them up in battle order on the plain. A light breeze
having dispersed the mist, which was followed by brilliant sunshine,
the Prussians were stupefied to see the lines of the French army
deployed opposite them and advancing to engage them in battle. They
could not understand how we had got there when they thought we were
down in the valley of Jena, with no other means of reaching them but
the road to Wiemar, which they were guarding so thoroughly.

The battle began immediately and the first lines of the Prussians
and Saxons, commanded by Prince Hohenlohe, were forced to retreat. 
They advanced their reserves, but we received a powerful
reinforcement. Marshal Ney's corps and Murat's cavalry which had
been held up in the pass, burst out into the plain and took part in
the action. However a Prussian army corps commanded by General
Ruchel stopped our columns for a time; but charged by French cavalry
it was almost entirely wiped out and General Ruchel was killed.

Marshal Augereau's 1st division, coming down from the
Landgrafenberg, joined with the 2nd, arriving from Muhlthal, and with
the troops of Marshals Lannes and Soult, they proceeded down the road
to Wiemar, capturing enemy positions as they went.

The Prussian infantry, whose poor composition I have already
described, fought very badly, and the cavalry not much better. One
saw them on several occasions advance, with loud shouts, towards our
battalions; but, intimidated by their calm bearing, they never dared
charge home; at a distance of fifty paces from our line they
shamefully turned about, amid a hail of bullets and the jeers of our
men.

The Saxons fought with courage; they resisted Marshal Augereau's
corps for a long time, and it was not until after the retreat of the
Prussian troops that, having formed themselves into two large
squares, they began to withdraw while continuing to fire. Marshal
Augereau admired the courage of the Saxons, and to prevent further
loss of life, he had just sent an envoy to persuade them to
surrender, since they had no longer any hope of relief, when Prince
Murat arrived with his cavalry and mounted an attack with his
Cuirassiers and dragoons, who charging impetuously the Saxon squares,
overwhelmed them and forced them to lay down their arms. The next
day, however, the Emperor set them at liberty and restored them to
their sovereign, with whom he hastened to make peace.

All the Prussian troops who had fought before Jena, retreated in a
complete rout along the road to Weimar, at whose gates the fugitives,
their baggage and artillery had piled up, when suddenly the squadrons
of the French cavalry appeared! At the sight of them, panic spread
through the crowd of Prussians, who fled in utter disorder, leaving
us with a great number of prisoners, flags, guns and baggage.

The town of Weimar, called by some the new Athens, was inhabited
at this period by a great number of scholars, artists and
distinguished authors, who had gathered there under the patronage of
the ruling duke, an enlightened protector of the arts and sciences. 
The noise of guns, the passage of the fugitives and the entry of the
victors caused a great stir in this peaceful and studious population;
but Marshals Lannes and Soult maintained a firm discipline, and apart
from having to provide food for the soldiers, the town suffered no
outrage. The Prince of Weimar served in the Prussian army,
nevertheless his palace, where the princess, his wife, was living,
was respected and none of the marshals took up residence there.

Marshal Augereau's headquarters were established at the town
gates, in the house of the prince's head gardener. All the
inhabitants of the house having taken flight, the general staff found
nothing to eat, and had to sup on some pineapples and plums from the
hot-houses. This was a very light diet for people who, without food
for twenty-four hours, had spent the preceding night on foot and all
day fighting! But we were the victors, and that magical word enabled
us to support all our privations.

The Emperor went back to sleep at Jena, where he learned of a
success no less great than that which he had just achieved himself. 
The battle of Jena was a double battle, if one may use the
expression, for neither the French nor the Prussian armies were
united at Jena, they were each divided into two parts and fought two
different battles: so that while the Emperor, at the head of the
corps of Augereau, Lannes, Soult and Ney, his guard and the cavalry
of Murat, was defeating the corps of Prince Hohenlohe and General
Ruchel. The King of Prussia, at the head of his main army, commanded
by the celebrated Prince of Brunswick, Marshals Mollendorf and
Kalkreuth had left Weimar, and on their way to Naumburg had settled
for the night at the village of Auerstadt, not far from the French
corps of Davout and Bernadotte, who were in the villages around
Naumburg. In order to rejoin the Emperor, who was at Apolda, in the
plain beyond Jena, Davout and Bernadotte had to cross the Saale
before Naumburg and traverse the narrow hilly pass of Kosen. 
Although Davout thought that the King of Prussia with the main body
of his army was facing the Emperor, and not so close to him at
Auerstadt, this vigilant warrior secured, during the night, the Kosen
pass and its steep slopes which the King of Prussia and his marshals
had neglected to occupy, thus making the same mistake as Prince
Hohenlohe made at Jena in failing to guard the Landgrafenberg. The
combined forces of Bernadotte and Davout did not amount to more than
forty-four thousand men, while the King of Prussia had eighty
thousand at Auerstadt.

From daybreak on the 14th, the two French marshals realised that
they had to face much superior numbers; it was their duty then to act
in unison. Davout, aware of this necessity, volunteered to put
himself under the command of Bernadotte, but the latter jibbed at the
idea of a shared victory, and unwilling to subordinate his personal
interests to the welfare of his country, he decided to act on his
own; and on the pretext that the Emperor had ordered him to be at
Dornburg on the 13th, he decided to make his way there on the 14th,
although Napoleon had written to him during the night to say that, if
he was still in Naumburg, he should stay there and support Davout. 
Not finding the situation to his liking, Bernadotte left Davout to
defend himself as best he could and, going down the Saale, he
settled himself at Dornburg where, although he came across no
enemies, he could see from the elevated position which he occupied,
the desperate battle being fought by the gallant Davout some two
leagues away. Meanwhile he ordered his men to set up their bivouacs
and to start preparing a meal. His generals complained to him in
vain at this culpable inaction; Bernadotte would not budge, so that
Marshal Davout, with no more than twenty-five thousand men,
comprising the divisions of Friant, Morland and Gudin, faced almost
eighty thousand Prussians animated by the presence of their king.

The French, after emerging from the narrow pass of Kosen, formed
up near the village of Hassenhausen; it was here that the real battle
took place, because the Emperor was mistaken when he thought that he
had before him at Jena the king and the bulk of the Prussian army. 
The action fought by Davout's men was one of the most terrible in our
annals. His divisions, having successfully resisted all the attacks
of the enemy infantry, formed into squares and repelled numerous
cavalry charges, and not content with this, they advanced with such
resolution that the Prussians fell back at every point leaving the
ground strewn with dead and wounded. The Prince of Brunswick and
General Schmettau were killed, Marshal Mollendorf was seriously
wounded and taken prisoner.

The King of Prussia and his troops at first carried out their
retreat towards Weimar in reasonably good order, hoping to rally
there behind the forces of Prince Hohenlohe and General Ruchel, whom
they supposed to have been victorious, while the latter, having been
defeated by Napoleon, were for their part, on their way to seek
support from the troops led by the king. Those two enormous masses of
soldiers, beaten and demoralised, met on the road to Erfurt; it
needed only the appearance of some French regiments to throw them
into utter confusion. The rout was total, and was a just punishment
for the bragging of the Prussian officers. The results of this
victory were incalculable, and made us masters of almost all Prussia.

The Emperor showed his great satisfaction with Marshal Davout and
with the divisions of Morand, Friant and Gudin by an order of the
day, which was read out to all companies and even in the ambulances
carrying the wounded. The following year Napoleon created Davout
Duke of Auerstadt, although he had fought less there than in the
village of Hassenhausen; but the King of Prussia had had his
headquarters at Auerstadt, and the Prussians had given this name to
the battle which the French called the battle of Jena.

The army expected to see Bernadotte severely punished, but he got
away with a sharp reprimand; Napoleon was afraid of upsetting his
brother Joseph, whose sister-in-law, Mlle. Clary, Bernadotte had just
married. We shall see later how Bernadotte's behaviour during the
battle of Auerstadt served, in a way, as a first step towards
mounting the throne of Sweden.

I was not wounded at Jena, but I was tricked in a way that still
rankles after forty years. At a time when Augereau's corps was
attacking the Saxons, the marshal sent me to carry a message to
General Durosnel, who commanded a brigade of Chasseurs, ordering him
to charge the enemy cavalry. It was my job to guide the brigade
along a route which I had already reconnoitred. I hurried away and
put myself at the head of our Chasseurs, who threw themselves on the
Saxon squadrons. The Saxons put up a stiff resistance and there was a
general melée, but eventually our adversaries were forced to retreat
with losses. Towards the end of the fighting, I found myself facing
an officer of Hussars, wearing the white uniform of Prince Albert of
Saxony's regiment. I held the point of my sabre against him and
called on him to surrender, which he did, handing me his sword. As
the fighting was over, I generously gave it back to him, as was the
usual practice among officers in these circumstances, and I added
that although his horse, under the conventions of war, belonged to
me, I did not wish to deprive him of it. He gave me many thanks for
this kind treatment and followed me as I returned to the marshal,
very pleased with myself for bringing back a prisoner. But when we
were about five hundred paces from the Chasseurs, this confounded
Saxon officer, who was on my left, drew his sabre, wounded my horse
on the shoulder and was about to strike me if I had not thrown myself
on him. Although I had no sabre in my hand, our bodies were so close
that he did not have room to swing his sabre at me, so he grabbed my
epaulet, and pulled me off balance, my saddle slipped under my
horse's belly and there I was with one leg in the air and my head
hanging down, while the Saxon made off at full speed to rejoin the
remains of the enemy army. I was furious, partly at the position I
was in, and partly at the ingratitude with which this foreigner had
repaid my courtesy. So when the Saxon army had been made prisoners,
I went to look for my Hussar officer, to teach him a lesson, but he
had disappeared.

I have said that the Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, our new ally, had
joined his troops to the Emperor's. This brigade had uniforms
exactly like those of the Prussians, so several of their soldiers
were killed or wounded mistakenly during the action. The young
Lieutenant De Stoch, my friend, was on the point of meeting the same
fate, and had already been seized by our Hussars, when, having seen
me, he called out to me and I had him released.

The Emperor rewarded most generously the priest of Jena, and the
elector of Saxony, having become king as a result of the victories
of his ally Napoleon, rewarded him also; so that he lived very
comfortably until 1814 when he took refuge in France to escape from
the vengeance of the Prussians. They, however, had him taken up and
shut away in a fortress where he spent two or three years. 
Eventually, the King of Saxony having interceded on his behalf with
Louis XVIII, the latter reclaimed the priest on the grounds that he
had been arrested without proper authority, and the Prussians having
released him, he came to live in Paris.
After the victory at Jena, the Emperor ordered a general pursuit
of our enemies, and our columns took an enormous number of prisoners.

The King of Prussia had great difficulty in reaching Magdeburg and
getting from there to Berlin, and it was said that the queen nearly
fell into the hands of the scouts of our advance-guard.

It would take too long to detail all the disasters which befell
the Prussian army; it is enough to say that of those troops who
marched to attack the French, not a battalion escaped; they were all
captured before the end of the month. The fortresses of Torgau,
Erfurt and Wittemburg opened their gates to the victors who, having
crossed the Elbe at several points--Augereau's corps crossing near
Dessau--headed for Berlin.

Napoleon stopped at Potsdam, where he visited the tomb of
Frederick the Great; then he went to Berlin where, contrary to his
usual practice, he wished to make a triumphal entry. Marshal
Davout's corps headed the procession; an honour to which it was
entitled as it had done more fighting than the others. Then came
Augereau's corps and then the guard.

Chap. 31.

On my return to Berlin which, when I had left it not long ago, had been so brilliant, I could not help having some sad reflections. 
The populace, then so self-confident, was now gloomy, downcast, and
much afflicted, for the Prussians are very patriotic: they felt
humiliated by the defeat of their army and the occupation of their
country by the French; besides which almost every family had to mourn
a relative or friend killed or captured in battle. I had every
sympathy with their feelings; but I must confess that I experienced
quite a different sentiment when I saw, entering Berlin as prisoners
of war, walking sadly, dismounted and disarmed, the regiment of the
so-called Noble Gendarmes; those same arrogant young officers who had
so insolently come to sharpen their sabres on the steps of the French
embassy!....Nothing could depict their shame and abasement at finding
themselves defeated by those same Frenchmen whom they had boasted
they would put to flight by their mere presence. They had asked that
they might go round Berlin without entering it, to avoid the painful
experience of filing as prisoners through the town where they were
so well known and where the inhabitants had witnessed their bragging;
but this is precisely why the Emperor ordered them to pass between
two lines of French soldiers, who directed them down the road in
which stood the French embassy. The inhabitants of Berlin did not
disapprove of this little act of revenge, since they greatly disliked
the Noble Gendarmes whom they accused of having pushed the king into
the war.

Marshal Augereau was billeted outside the town, in the
château of Bellevue, which belonged to Prince Ferdinand, the only one
of Frederick the Great's brothers who was still living. This
venerable old man, the father of Prince Louis who was recently killed
at Saalefeld, was afflicted by grief made even more bitter by the
fact that, against the opinion of all the court and also that of the
son whom he mourned, he had strongly opposed the war, and had
predicted the misfortunes which it would bring upon Prussia. Marshal
Augereau thought it his duty to visit the prince, who had withdrawn
to a dwelling in the town. He was received most politely; the
unhappy father told the marshal that he had learned that his young
son, Prince Auguste, the only one left to him, was at the town gate
in a column of prisoners, and that he longed to embrace him before he
was sent off to France. Since Prince Ferdinand's great age prevented
him from going to look for his son, the marshal, sure that Napoleon
would not object, told me to mount my horse right away, to go and
find Prince Auguste, and to bring him back. Which I did.

The arrival of the young prince gave rise to the most moving
scene. His elderly parents could not stop embracing this son, who
recalled to them the loss of the other. To console them as much as
lay within his power, the good marshal went to the Emperor's quarters
and came back with authority for the young prince to remain, on
parole, in the bosom of his family. A favour for which Prince
Ferdinand was infinitely grateful.

The victory at Jena had had the most profound effect. 
Complete demoralisation had gripped not only the troops in the field,
but the garrisons of the fortresses. Magdeburg surrendered without
making any attempt at resistance; Spandau did the same; Stettin
opened its gates to a division of cavalry, and the governor of
Custrin sent boats across the Oder to fetch the French troops; who
without this help would not have been able to take the place without
several months of siege. Every day one heard of the surrender of
some unit of the army or the capitulation of some fortress. The
faulty organisation of the Prussian army became more evident than
ever; the foreigners, in particular those who had been enlisted
against their will, took the occasion to recover their liberty, and
deserted in droves, or stayed behind to give themselves up to the
French.

To the conquest of the Prussians, Napoleon added the confiscation
of the states of the Elector of Hesse-Cassel, whose duplicity had
earned him this punishment. This prince, who had been requested
some time before the war to declare himself a supporter of either
France or Prussia, lulled both parties with promises, with the
intention of coming down on the side of the victor. An avaricious
sovereign, the Elector had amassed a great fortune by selling his own
people to the English, who used them to fight against the Americans
in the War of Independence, in which many of them perished. Careless
of his people's welfare, he had offered to join his troops to the
French force on condition that the Emperor would cede to him the
French American states. So no one was very sorry for the Elector,
whose precipitous departure occasioned an event which is still not
generally known.

Compelled to leave Hesse in a hurry, to take refuge in England,
the Elector, who was regarded as one of the richest people in Europe,
was unable to take with him all his wealth. So he sent for a Jew from
Frankfurt by the name of Rothschild, a small-time banker and not well
known, but respected for the scrupulous devotion with which he
practised his religion: and it was this that decided the Elector to
confide to his care some fifteen million in specie. The interest
earned on this money was to belong to the banker, who was obliged to
return only the capital.

When the palace of Cassel was occupied by our troops, agents of
the French treasury seized a considerable quantity of valuables,
mainly pictures, but did not find any money. It seemed impossible,
however, that the Elector, in his hurried flight, had been able to
take with him all his immense fortune. Now, as according to what are
called the laws of war, the monies found in an enemy country belong
to the victor, one wished to find out what had become of the treasure
of Cassel. Information gathered on the subject disclosed that, before
his departure, the Elector had spent a whole day with the Jew
Rothschild. An imperial commission went to the latter's house, where
his account books and his strong-boxes were minutely examined; but in
vain, for no trace could be found of a deposit made by the Elector.
Threats and intimidation produced no result, so the commission,
convinced that no material interest would persuade a man so religious
to perjure himself, wished to put him on oath. This he refused to
accept. His arrest was considered but the Emperor was opposed to
this act of violence because he thought it would be useless. Resort
was then had to less honourable methods; it was proposed to the
banker that he might retain half of the treasure if he would deliver
the other half to the French administration; they would then give him
a receipt for the full amount, accompanied by an order of seizure,
proving that he had given way only to force and was thus shielded
from any claim for restitution; but the upright Jew rejected this
suggestion, and, tired of the struggle, they left him alone.

So the fifteen million remained in the hands of Rothschild from
1806 to the fall of the empire in 1814. Then, when the Elector had
returned to his state, the Frankfurt banker handed over to him the
exact sum which he had deposited. You may imagine how much interest
might be earned by the sum of fifteen millions left in the hands of a
Jewish Frankfurt banker for a period of eight years! It is from this
time that dates the opulence of the House of the Brothers Rothschild,
who owe to the probity of their founder the high financial standing
which they enjoy today.

The Emperor, who was staying in the palace in Berlin, every day
passed in revue the troops who arrived in succession in the town, to
march from there to the Oder in pursuit of the enemy. It was while
he was in Berlin that he performed a well known act of magnanimity in
pardoning, for the Princess of Hatzfeld, her husband, who had used
his position as burgomaster of Berlin to give the Prussian generals
information about the movement of French troops; an act of espionage
punishable by death. The generosity displayed by the Emperor on this
occasion had a very good effect on the feelings of the Prussians.

During our stay in Berlin, I was pleasantly surprised by the
arrival of my brother Adolphe, who, on learning of the fresh outbreak
of hostilities on the continent of Europe had asked for and obtained
from General Decaen, who commanded the French troops in India,
permission to return to France, where he joined the Grande Armée. He
was offered a position by General Lefebvre, but, mistakenly, in my
opinion, he chose to serve as a supernumerary on the staff of Marshal
Augereau, of which I was a member, a move which did neither of us any
good.

I had also in Berlin another unexpected encounter. I was
walking one evening with some friends along the Boulevard de
Tilleuls, when I saw coming towards me a group of sous-officiers of
the 1st Hussars. One of them broke away and ran to fall on my neck. 
It was my former tutor, the elder Pertelay who, with tears of joy
cried "Te voilà, mon petit!" The officers with whom I was, were at
first astonished to see a sergeant-major so familiar with an officer;
but their surprise vanished when I told them of my former relations
with this old soldier, who, putting his arm round me, said to his
companions, "It is I who made him what you now see before you!" And
the good fellow was really convinced that I owed my present position
to his teaching. So at dinner, which I stood him the next day, he
overwhelmed me with inconsequential advice, which he believed to be
very sensible and just the thing to perfect my military education. 
We shall meet this type of old Hussar again in Spain.

Napoleon, who was still in Berlin, was told of the surrender of
the Prince Hohenlohe who, with sixteen thousand men, had laid down
his arms at Prenzlow before the troops of Marshal Lannes and the
cavalry of Murat. There was no other enemy corps in the field except
that of General Blücher. This general, hard pressed by the divisions
of Marshals Soult and Bernadotte, violated the neutrality of Lubeck,
where he sought refuge; but the French pursued him, and Blücher, one
of the most ardent supporters of the war against Napoleon, was forced
to give himself up as a prisoner together with the sixteen thousand
men under his command.

I must here tell you something remarkable, which shows how greatly
chance influences the affairs of men and empires. We have seen
Marshal Bernadotte failing in his duty and standing aside at Jena
when Marshal Davout was fighting, not far from him, against
infinitely superior forces. Well! This disgraceful conduct served to
place him on the throne of Sweden. This is how it came about.

After the battle of Jena, the Emperor, although furious with
Bernadotte, ordered him to pursue the enemy because the corps which
he commanded, not having fired a shot, was in better shape for battle
than those who had suffered losses. Bernadotte then set out on the
track of the Prussians whom he defeated first at Halle and then at
Lubeck, with the help of Marshal Soult. Now as chance would have it,
at the very hour when the French were attacking Lubeck, some ships
carrying a division of infantry which King Gustave IV of Sweden had
sent to the aid of the Prussians entered the harbour. The Swedish
troops had scarcely disembarked when, attacked by the French and
abandoned by the Prussians, they were obliged to surrender to
Bernadotte. Bernadotte, I can assure you, had, when he wished, the
most engaging manner and very much wanted to appear before foreigners
as a "Gentleman." To this end, he treated the Swedish officers in
the most benevolent manner. After according them an honourable
capitulation, he returned to them their horses and their baggage, saw
to their needs and invited to his quarters the commander-in-chief,
Count Moerner, as well as the generals and senior officers; he loaded
them with kindnesses and courtesies to such an extent that, on their
return to their country, they spread everywhere praise for the
magnanimity of Marshal Bernadotte.

Some years later a revolution broke out in Sweden; King Gustave,
whom a mental disorder had rendered unfit to rule, was removed from
the throne and replaced by his aged uncle, the Duke of Sudermanie. 
As this new monarch had no children, the States Assembly, in order to
designate a successor, chose the Prince of Holstein-Augustenburg, who
took the title of Prince Royal. But he did not long enjoy this
dignity, for he died in 1811 after a short illness, which was put
down to poison. The states gathered once more to elect a new heir to
the throne. They were hesitating between several German princes who
put themselves forward as candidates when Count Moerner, one of the
most influential members of the states, and the former commander of
the Swedish division captured at Lubeck in 1806 by the French,
proposed General Bernadotte, whose generous conduct he recalled. He
praised also Bernadotte's military talents, and observed that the
marshal was allied, through his wife, to Napoleon, whose support
could be most useful to Sweden. A crowd of officers who had also been
captured at Lubeck, joined their voices to that of General Moerner,
and Bernadotte was elected almost unanimously as successor to the
King of Sweden, and mounted the throne a few years later.

We shall see, further on, how Bernadotte, carried to the steps of
a foreign throne by the fame which he had acquired at the head of
French troops, displayed a lack of gratitude towards his native
country. But now let us return to Prussia.

In one month the main forces of this kingdom, formerly in such a
flourishing condition, had been destroyed by Napoleon, whose armies
occupied the capital and the greater part of the provinces, and had
already reached the Vistula, that great barrier between northern and
central Europe.
Marshal Augereau's corps remained for a fortnight in Berlin to
reinforce the Guard during the long stay which the Emperor made in
the town, and left about the middle of November, heading first for
the Oder, which we crossed at Kostrzyn, and then on to the Vistula
whose bank we reached at Bromburg (?Bydgoszcz). We were now in
Poland, the poorest and nastiest country in Europe...! After the
Oder, no more made roads: we marched on loose gravel or appalling
mud. Most of the land was uncultivated and the few inhabitants we
came across were dirty to a degree which defies the imagination. The
weather which had been magnificent during October and the first part
of November became frightful. We no longer saw the sun, it rained or
snowed continually; food became short; no more wine, almost never any
beer, and what there was atrociously bad; muddy water, no bread, and
billets we had to share with cattle and pigs. The soldiers used to
say, "How dare the Poles call this a country?"

The Emperor himself was disillusioned, for having come intending
to rebuild Poland, he had hoped that the whole population of this
vast country would rise as one man at the approach of the French
army. But nobody budged...! In a vain attempt to rouse some Polish
enthusiasm, the Emperor had invited the famous General Kosciusko, the
leader of the last insurrection, to come and join him, but Kosciusko
stayed peacefully in Switzerland, to where he had retired, and to the
reproaches which were addressed to him, he replied that he knew the
heedless and unstable character of his compatriots too well to hope
that they would ever free themselves, even with French help. Unable
to attract Kosciusko, the Emperor tried to make use of his renown by
addressing to the Poles a proclamation in the name of this old
warrior. Not one of them took up arms, although our troops occupied
several provinces and even the capital. The Poles were not willing
to rebel until Napoleon had declared the re-establishment of Poland,
and he was not willing to do this until they had risen against their
oppressors, which they did not do.

While 7th Corps was in Bromburg, Duroc, the grand marshal of the
palace, arrived in the middle of the night at Marshal Augereau's
headquarters. I was sent for and told to prepare myself to accompany
Marshal Duroc, who was going as an envoy to the King of Prussia at
Graudentz, and who needed an officer to replace his aide-de-camp,
whom he had just sent to Posnan with despatches for the Emperor. I
had been chosen because it was remembered that the previous August I
had been on a mission to the Prussian court and that I knew almost
all the officers and the court usages.

I was soon ready. The marshal of the palace took me in his
carriage and we went down the left bank of the Vistula, occupied by
French troops, to cross the river by ferry opposite Graudentz. We
took lodgings in the town and then presented ourselves at the
citadel, where all the royal family of Prussia had taken refuge after
loosing four fifths of their state. The Vistula separated the two
armies. The king seemed calm and resigned; the queen, whom I had
seen not long ago looking so lovely, was greatly changed and seemed
overcome by grief. She could not conceal from herself the fact that
having urged the king to declare war, she was the principal cause of
the misfortunes of her country, whose citizens raised their voices
against her. The Emperor could not have sent a more acceptable envoy
to the king than Marshal Duroc, who had held the post of ambassador
in Berlin, and was well known to both the king and queen who
appreciated his pleasant personality. I was too small a personage to
be of any account; however the king and queen recognised me and
greeted me with a few polite words.

I found the Prussian officers attached to the court had greatly
modified the arrogant attitude they had displayed in August. Their
recent defeat had changed their opinion of the French army;
nevertheless I did not wish to take advantage of this and I carefully
avoided mentioning Jena and our other victories. The affairs which
Marshal Duroc had to discuss with the King of Prussia related to a
letter which this monarch had sent to Napoleon, requesting a peace. 
The meeting lasted for two days which I occupied in reading, and
walking on the gloomy parade ground of the fortress. I did not wish
to go up onto the ramparts, although one enjoys from there an
admirable view of the Vistula, for fear that I might be suspected of
examining the defence works and armaments.

In the battles which had taken place from Jena to the Vistula, the
Prussians had taken about a hundred of our men prisoner, whom they
employed on the earthworks of the fortress in which they were
confined. Marshal Duroc had charged me with the task of distributing
some aid to these poor devils, who were doubly unhappy in that they
could see from the height of the fortress the French troops from whom
they were separated only by the Vistula. This proximity, and the
comparison of their position with that of their comrades, free and
happy on the left bank, led a French prisoner, one of the élite
cavalrymen of the 3rd Dragoons by the name of Harpin, to attempt to
escape. This was no easy matter, for one had first to get out of the
fortress and then to cross the Vistula; but what cannot be achieved
by a determined man? Harpin, who was employed by the master carpenter
to pile timber, had made, secretly, a little raft; he had taken a
long rope and, at night, had lowered the raft to the foot of the
rampart, and had then descended himself by the same means. He had
already put his raft in the water and was preparing to embark when
he was surprised by a patrol, taken back to the fort and confined to
a dungeon. The next day the Prussian commandant, in accordance with
the common custom of the Prussian army, condemned Harpin to fifty
strokes of the cane. It was useless for Harpin to claim that as a
Frenchman he should not be subject to Prussian regulations, his
status as a prisoner made this complaint void. He had already been
taken to the wooden frame to which he was to be attached, and two
soldiers were preparing to administer the flogging when, having gone
to fetch a book from Marshal Duroc's coach, which was standing in the
parade ground, I saw Harpin struggling with some Prussians who were
trying to tie him up.

Indignant at the sight of a French soldier about to be subjected
to a flogging, I ran towards him, my sabre in my hand, and threatened
to kill the first man to strike a blow! ... Marshal Duroc's coach was
guarded by one of Napoleon's couriers, known in every post house in
Europe as "Moustache." This man, of herculean strength and the
courage to face anything, had accompanied the Emperor on twenty
fields of battle. When he saw me in the middle of the Prussians he
hurried to me, and on my instructions, he fetched four loaded pistols
which were in the coach. We untied Harpin; I armed him with two of
the pistols and put him in the coach, where I placed "Moustache" next
to him. I then told the commandant that as this coach belonged to the
Emperor, whose arms it bore, it was a sacred place of safety for the
French Dragoon, entry to which was forbidden to all Prussians under
penalty of a bullet in the head, and I told Harpin and "Moustache" to
fire on anyone who attempted to get into the coach. The commandant,
seeing me so determined, abandoned his prisoner for the moment to go
and get orders from his superiors. Then, leaving Harpin and
"Moustache" in the coach with pistols in their hands, I went to the
king's quarters and begged one of the aides-de-camp to go and tell
Marshal Duroc that I needed to speak to him about a matter which
could not wait. Duroc came out and I told him what had happened.

When he heard that they wanted to flog a French soldier, he
shared my indignation. He returned to the king to whom he protested
warmly, adding that if the sentence were to be carried out, the
Emperor by way of reprisal would flog not only the soldiers but also
the Prussian officers who were his prisoners. The king was a humane
man; he ordered that the dragoon Harpin should be released, and to
please Napoleon, from whom he was at that moment asking peace, he
offered to Marshal Duroc to release to him all the prisoners if he
would undertake to send back a similar number of Prussians. Duroc
having accepted this offer, I went with one of the aides-de-camp to
announce the news to the prisoners, who were overjoyed. We embarked
them straight away and an hour later they were across the Vistula and
amongst their brothers in arms.

Marshal Duroc and I left Graudentz the next night; he approved of
my conduct and told me later that he had given an account of it to
the Emperor, who also approved, and who warned the Prussians that if
they flogged French soldiers he would have all Prussian officers who
fell into his hands, shot!

I rejoined 7th Corps at Bromburg, and we went up the left bank of
the Vistula towards Warsaw. Marshal Augereau's headquarters were
established at Mallochiche. The Emperor arrived at Warsaw on the 19th
December, and prepared to cross the Vistula. 7th Corps then went
down the left bank once more to Utrata, where for the first time on
this campaign we saw the Russian outposts on the opposite bank.

Chap. 32

The River Vistula is fast-flowing and very wide; one expected,
because of this that the Emperor would halt his winter operations
there and, protected by the river, would put his troops into winter
quarters until the spring. This however was not to be. Marshal
Davout's and Marshal Lannes' corps crossed the river at Warsaw,
Marshal Augereau and his men crossed at Utrate, from where we went on
to the banks of the Ukra, a tributary of the Bug and the Vistula. 
The entire French army having crossed this last river, found itself
face to face with the Russians, against whom the Emperor ordered an
attack on the 24th December. A thaw and rain made movement extremely
difficult on the clay soil, for there are no metalled roads in this
country.

I shall not describe all the actions which were fought that day
to force a passage across the Bug; I shall restrict myself to saying
that Marshal Augereau, given the task of securing the crossing of the
Ukra, ordered General Desjardins to attack with his division,
Kolozomb, and General Heudelet to attack Sochocyzn. The marshal
directed the attack on Kolozomb in person. The Russians, after
burning the bridge which had existed at this spot, had raised
earthworks on the opposite bank which they defended with cannons and
numerous infantry; but they had neglected to destroy a store of
planks and beams which was on the right bank, at which we had
arrived. Our sappers made use of this material to construct a
temporary bridge in spite of a lively fire which killed several men
of the 14th Line regiment, which was at the head of our columns.

The planks of the bridge were not yet fastened and were wobbling
under the feet of our infantrymen, when the colonel of the 14th,
M. Savary, brother of the Emperor's aide-de-camp, risked crossing on
horseback, in order to put himself at the head of his men; but he had
scarcely reached the bank when a Cossack, arriving at the gallop,
plunged a lance into his heart and disappeared into the woods! This
was the fifth colonel of the 14th who had been killed by the enemy!
You will see later the fatal destiny which always accompanied this
unfortunate regiment. The passage of the Ukra was secured, the guns
captured and the Russians put to flight. Desjardins' division
occupied Sochoczyn, where the enemy had repulsed the attack by
Heudelet's division, a repulse which was of no consequence, as it was
necessary only to secure one crossing. General Heudelet however,
out of misplaced pride, had ordered the attack to be renewed and was
once more driven off with the loss of some thirty men killed or
wounded, among them a highly thought of engineer officer. I have
always disapproved of the contempt for men's lives which sometimes
leads generals to sacrifice them to their desire to see their names
in the bulletins.

On the 25th of December, the day following the crossing of the
Ukra, the Emperor, pushing the Russians before him, headed for
Golymin, having with him the Guard, Murat's cavalry and the corps of
Davout and Augereau, the last of whom led the column. Marshal Lannes
went off in the direction of Pultusk. There were on this day some
minor encounters with the enemy who were retreating with all speed. 
We slept in bivouac amongst the trees.

On the 26th, 7th Corps set out once more in pursuit of the
Russians. We were at a time of year when the days are at their
shortest, and in this part of Poland at the end of December, it
starts to get dark about two-thirty in the afternoon. It was made
more gloomy as we approached Golymin by a fall of snow mixed with
rain. We had not seen the enemy since morning when, on our arrival
at the village of Kuskowo, very close to Golymin, our scouts, who had
seen in the obscurity a large body of troops which a marsh
prevented them from approaching, came to warn Marshal Augereau, who
ordered Colonel Albert to go and reconnoitre, escorted by twenty-five
mounted Chasseurs, whom he placed under my command.

The mission was difficult for we were in the middle of a huge,
bare plain where one could easily become lost. The ground, already
muddy, was intersected by areas of bog which the poor light
prevented us from seeing clearly; so we advanced with caution, and
found ourselves within twenty-five paces of a line of troops. We
thought at first that this must be Davout's corps, which we knew
was in the neighbourhood, but as no one answered our challenge, we
had no doubt that these were enemy troops. However, to make quite
sure, Colonel Albert ordered me to send one of my best-mounted
troopers up to the line which we could distinguish in the murk: for
this task I picked a bemedalled corporal named Schmit, a man of
proven courage. He, having gone alone to within ten paces of a
regiment whose headgear he recognised as Russian, fired a shot from
his carbine into the middle of it and came back smartly.

To account for the silence which the Russians had maintained up
till then, I must tell you that this unit had become separated from
the main body of the army, which it was trying to rejoin, and had
lost its way in the vast plains, which it knew to be occupied by
French troops who were heading for Golymin. The Russian generals, in
the hope that they might pass close to us in the obscurity without
being recognised, had forbidden their men to speak, and in the event
of an attack, even the wounded were to make no outcry. This was an
order which only Russian troops would have obeyed so punctiliously
that when Colonel Albert, to warn Marshal Augereau that we were in
the presence of the enemy, ordered the twenty-five troopers to fire,
not a cry nor a word was heard, and no one fired back!

We then saw, in spite of the poor light, a body of about a hundred
horsemen who were advancing silently to cut off our retreat. We
should have made off at the gallop to rejoin our columns, but some of
our troopers having become stuck in the mud, we were forced to
proceed less rapidly, although pursued by the Russians, who
fortunately had the same trouble as we did. A fire which had broken
out in a nearby farm lit up the ground and the Russians began to
gallop, which compelled us to do likewise. A new danger arose in
that we had left from General Desjardins' division and were returning
to General Heudelet's, who had not seen us leave and opened fire on
us; so that we were being driven from behind by the Russians, while a
hail of bullets in front wounded several of our men and some horses. 
It was no use shouting "We are French. Don't shoot!" The firing
continued, and one cannot blame the officers who took us for the
advance guard of a Russian column who were using French, which is
widely understood among foreigners, in order to deceive them in the
darkness which had now fallen. We were having a bad time, when it
occurred to me to call out by name to the generals, colonels and
battalion commanders of Heudelet's division, names which they would
know could not be known to the enemy. This was a success and we were
at last received into the French line.

The Russian generals, seeing that they were discovered and
wishing to continue their retreat, took a measure of which I heartily
approve, and one which in similar circumstances the French have
never attempted to imitate. The Russians pointed all their guns at
us, and having led away all the horses, they opened a violent fire
to keep us at a distance. During this time they marched off their
columns, and when the ammunition was finished, the gunners withdrew
and left the guns to us. Was not this better than losing many men in
an effort to save the guns, which would have been continually bogged
down and slowed the retreat?

The fierce Russian cannonade became increasingly harmful when it
started several fires in the villages, the spreading light of which
enabled the Russian gunners to pick out the masses of our troops; in
particular the dragoons and Cuirassiers led by Prince Murat, whose
white cloaks made them a target. These units suffered more losses
than the others, and one of our generals of the Dragoons was cut in
two by a cannon-ball. Marshal Augereau, after taking Kuskowa,
entered Golymin, which Marshal Davout was attacking from the other
side. This town was being traversed at the time by the Russian
columns, who, knowing that Marshal Lannes was marching to cut off
their retreat by taking Pultusk, three leagues from there, were
trying to reach that spot before he did at no matter what cost. So
although our soldiers were firing on them at close range, they did
not reply. To do so they would have had to stop, and minutes were
too precious.

Each division and each regiment marched through our fusillade
without a word and without slowing their pace for a moment...! The
streets of Golymin were full of wounded and dying men, yet one did
not hear a sound. It was forbidden! We might have been shooting at
shadows, and it was only when our soldiers attacked with the bayonet
that they convinced themselves that they were dealing with men. We
took thousands of prisoners, while the remainder marched into the
distance.

The marshals deliberated as to whether they should pursue the
enemy, but the weather was so horrible and the night so dark once
one left the neighbourhood of the fires, the men so soaked and
exhausted, that it was decided that they should rest until the next
day.

Golymin being crowded with dead, wounded, and discarded baggage,
Marshals Murat and Augereau, together with some generals and their
staffs, looking for somewhere to shelter from the glacial rain,
established themselves in a huge stable which was near the town.
There, those who could, lay on the dung heap in an attempt to get
warm and to sleep, for we had been on horseback in the most
frightful weather for twenty four hours or more. The marshals and
all the colonels and brass-hats were naturally in the depths of the
stable where it was warmer; as for me, a humble lieutenant, who came
in last, I had to bed down near the doorway, where I was more or less
sheltered from the rain, but exposed to the freezing wind, since the
doorway had no door. The position was most uncomfortable and added
to this I was dying of hunger, not having eaten since the previous
evening. But my lucky star came once more to my aid. While the well
sheltered senior officers were sleeping in the warm part of the
stable, and the cold was preventing us lieutenants near the doorway
from doing the same, one of Prince Murat's servants arrived. I told
him, in a low voice that his master was asleep; upon this he gave me
a basket containing a roast goose, some bread and some wine, to give
to the prince when he woke, and asked me to tell him that the mules
with the provisions were expected to arrive in an hour's time. 
Having said which, he went off to await them.

Loaded with these provisions, I held council in undertones with
Bro, Mainville, and Stoch, who, as badly placed as I, were shivering
with cold and just as hungry. The conclusion reached in this
deliberation was that as Prince Murat was asleep and as his
provisions were due to arrive shortly, he would be able to have a
meal when he woke; while we would be set on horseback and sent off in
all directions without anyone asking if we had eaten or not; so
without straining our consciences too much, we decided to demolish
the contents of the basket, which we did with great rapidity. I
don't know if this was pardonable, but what I do know is that I have
had few meals which I enjoyed more.

While the troops who had been engaged at Golymin were resting,
Napoleon, with all his Guard was wandering about on the plain,
because, alerted by the sound of gunfire, the Emperor had hurriedly
left the château where he was installed some two leagues from
Golymin, with the intention of joining us by marching as the crow
flies in the direction of the fires. But the ground was so soaked,
the plain so intersected by bogs and the weather so awful, that it
took him all night to make those two leagues, and he did not arrive
on the field of battle until the fighting was long over.

On the same day as the fight at Golymin, Marshal Lannes, with no
more than twenty thousand men, attacked at Pultusk some forty
thousand Russians who were retreating, and inflicted immense losses
on them without being able to stop them, so great was their
superiority in numbers.

For the Emperor to have been able to pursue the Russians it would
have required a frost to harden the ground which, on the contrary,
was now so soft and sodden that one sank in at every step, and
several men, notably the batman of an officer in 7th Corps, were
drowned with their horses in the mud. It had now become impossible
to move the artillery and to venture further into this unknown
territory; besides which the troops lacked food and even boots, and
they were extremely tired. These considerations decided Napoleon to
place the whole army in cantonment in front of the Vistula, from the
outskirts of Warsaw to the gates of Danzig. The soldiers, billeted
in the villages, were at last sheltered from the weather, received
some rations and were able to repair their equipment.

The Emperor returned to Warsaw to prepare for a new campaign. 
The divisions of Augereau's corps were spread in the villages around
Plock, if one can give that name to a confused heap of lowly shacks,
inhabited by unwashed Jews; but almost all the so-called towns in
Poland are built like this and have similar inhabitants. The
landowners, great and small, live in the country where they employ
their peasants to cultivate their estates.

The marshal was lodged in Christka, a sort of château built of
wood, as was customary in the country. He found in this manor some
reasonable accommodation, while the aides-de-camp settled wherever
they could in the rooms and barns. As for me, by ferreting around I
found in the gardener's quarters a fairly good room with a
fireplace; I settled in there with two friends, and leaving to the
gardener and his family their very unsavoury beds, we made some out
of planks and straw, on which we were very comfortable.

Chap. 33.

We celebrated at Christka the new year of 1807, which was very
nearly the last year of my life. It, however, began very pleasantly
for me, since the Emperor, who had not shown any favour to Augereau's
staff during the Austerlitz campaign, fully repaired this oversight
by heaping us with rewards. Colonel Albert was promoted to
brigadier-general, Major Massy to lieutenant-colonel of the 44th Line
regiment; several aides-de-camp were decorated; and finally the
lieutenants, Bro, Mainville, and I, were made captains. This promotion
gave me more than usual pleasure, since I had done nothing remarkable
to earn it, and I was only twenty-four years old. Marshal Augereau,
when he gave us our brevets of captain, said to Mainville, Bro, and
me, "Let's see which of you three is the first to become a colonel." 
It was in fact I, who six years later commanded a regiment, while
my comrades were still only captains: it is also true that in this
period I had been wounded six times!

Once we had taken up winter quarters the enemy did the same,
opposite to us but a considerable distance away. The Emperor
expected that they would let us pass the winter in peace; however,
our rest lasted only for a month; this sufficed but was not really
enough.

The Russians, seeing the ground covered by snow and hardened by a
very sharp frost, thought that this frigid weather would give the men
from the north a great advantage over those from the south,
unaccustomed to the severe cold. They resolved therefore to attack
us, and in order to do this they moved, screened by the immense
forest which lay between us, the greater part of the troops who faced
us before Warsaw, down to the lower Vistula, opposite the cantonments
of Bernadotte and Ney, whom they hoped to surprise and overrun by
weight of numbers before the Emperor with the other army corps
could come to their aid. But Bernadotte and Ney put up a stiff
resistance, and the Emperor had sufficient time to mount an attack
with a considerable force on the enemy rear who, seeing themselves
at risk of being cut off from their operational base, retreated
towards Konigsberg (Kaliningrad). We had therefore, on the 1st of
February, to quit our billets where we were reasonably comfortable,
and restarting the war, to go and sleep in the snow.

At the head of the central column, commanded by the Emperor in
person, was Prince Murat's cavalry, then came Marshal Soult's corps,
supported by that of Augereau, finally came the Imperial Guard. 
Marshal Davout's corps marched on the right flank of this huge
column, and Marshal Ney's on the left. Such an agglomeration of
troops heading for the same place soon strips the countryside of
whatever food supplies are available, so we suffered much from
hunger; only the Guard had wagons which carried food for
distribution, the other corps lived on whatever they could find, that
is to say they lacked practically everything.

I am not going to give any details of the actions which preceded
the battle of Eylau, because Augereau's corps, which was in the second
line, took no part in these various contacts, of which the most
important occurred at Mohrungen, Bergfried, Guttstadt, and
Valtersdorf. But at last, before the little town of Landsberg, the
Russians, who had been chased for a week with a sword at their backs,
decided to halt and make a stand. To do this, they placed eight élite
battalions in an advantageous position, their right bounded by a
village by the name of Hoff, their left by a thick wood, and their
centre protected by a very steep-sided ravine, which could be
crossed only by a narrow bridge. Eight cannons were placed in front
of this line.

When the Emperor arrived opposite this position, he did not think
it necessary to wait for the infantry of Marshal Soult, which was
still several leagues behind, and attacked the Russians with some
regiments of light cavalry who, dashing bravely over the bridge,
crossed the ravine; but, assailed by gunfire and grapeshot, our
squadrons were driven back in disorder into the gulch, from which
they emerged with much difficulty. The Emperor, seeing the light
cavalry repulsed, replaced them by a division of Dragoons, whose
attack, received in the same manner as before, had a similar outcome.
The Emperor then ordered the advance of General D'Hautpoul's terrible
Cuirassiers, who crossed the bridge under a hail of grapeshot and
fell on the Russian line with such ferocity that they literally
flattened it. There then ensued the most frightful butchery; the
Cuirassiers, enraged at the losses suffered by their comrades of the
Hussars and Dragoons, almost entirely exterminated the eight Russian
battalions, All were either killed or captured! The battlefield was a
scene of horror. Never has a cavalry charge had such a devastating
result. The Emperor demonstrated his satisfaction with the
Cuirassiers by embracing their general before the whole division.
General D'Hautpoul exclaimed, "To show myself worthy of this honour,
I shall dedicate my life to your majesty." He kept his word, for the
next day he was killed on the battlefield of Eylau. What an epoch!
And what men!

The enemy army which, from a plateau beyond Landsberg, had
witnessed the destruction of its rearguard, retired promptly towards
Eylau, and we took possession of Landsberg. On the 7th February the
Russian commander-in-chief, Benningsen, having decided to give battle,
concentrated his army around Eylau, mainly in positions between us
and the town. Murat's cavalry and Soult's infantry took these
positions after fierce fighting, for the Russians held tenaciously to
Ziegelhof, which dominates Eylau, as they wanted to make it the
centre point of their line for the battle on the following day; but
they were forced to retreat from the town. Night seemed to have put
an end to this fighting, the prelude to the coming general action,
when a fusillade of shots rang out in the streets of Eylau.

I know that military authors who have written about this campaign,
claim that Napoleon ordered an attack because he did not want the
town to remain in Russian hands; but I am sure that they are
mistaken, and for the following reason:--

When the head of Marshal Augereau's column, coming down the road
from Landsberg, drew near to Ziegelhof, the marshal climbed onto the
plateau where the Emperor was already stationed, and I actually
heard Napoleon say to Augereau, "It has been suggested to me that we
should take Eylau this evening; but, apart from the fact that I don't
like fighting at night, I do not wish to push my centre too far
forward before the arrival of Davout on my right flank and Ney on my
left. So I am going to wait for them until tomorrow on this plateau
which, furbished with artillery, will provide a fine position for our
infantry; then, when Davout and Ney are in the line, we shall march,
together, against the enemy." Having said this, the Emperor ordered
his bivouac to be set up at the foot of the Ziegelhof, and his guard
to encamp around it.

But while Napoleon was explaining his plans to Marshal Augereau,
who greatly approved of his prudence, the staff of the imperial
palace, coming from Landsberg with their baggage and servants,
arrived at our outposts, which were at the gates of Eylau, without
anyone telling them to stop at Ziegelhof. These employees, used to
seeing the imperial quarters very well guarded, and not having been
warned that they were almost on top of the Russians, were interested
only in selecting a good lodging for their master, and they set
themselves up in the post-house, where they unpacked their equipment,
stabled their horses, and began to cook. In the midst of these
preparations they were attacked by a Russian patrol and would have
been captured had it not been for the intervention of the guard which
always accompanied the Emperor's baggage. At the sound of this
outbreak of firing, the troops who were in position at the gates of
the town ran to the rescue of Napoleon's equipment, which was already
being pillaged by the Russian soldiers. The Russian generals,
thinking that the French were attempting to seize Eylau, sent
reinforcements to their side, and so a sanguinary battle was fought
in the streets of the town, which ended up in our hands.

Although this attack had not been ordered by the Emperor, he saw
no reason not to profit by it, and he set himself up in the Eylau
post-house. The Guard and Soult's troops occupied the town which was
surrounded by Murat's cavalry. Augereau's troops were positioned in
Zehen, a little hamlet in which we hoped to find some provisions, but
the Russians had taken everything with them as they withdrew, so that
our unhappy regiment, which had received no rations for eight days,
had to make do with some potatoes and water. The equipment of the
staff having been left at Landsberg, our supper was not as good as
that of the soldiers, for we had no potatoes. Eventually, on the
morning of the 8th, when we were about to mount our horses, one of
the marshal's servants brought him some bread, and he, always
generous, shared it out amongst his aides-de-camp. After this frugal
meal, which for several of us was to be our last, the corps moved to
the post to which it had been assigned by the Emperor.

In accordance with the plan which I explained when I started these
memoirs, I shall not weary you with too detailed a description of the
various phases of this terrible battle of Eylau, but will limit
myself to the principal events.

On the morning of the 8th, the position of the two armies was as
follows. The Russians had their left at Serpallen, their centre in
front of Auklapen and their right at Schmoditten. They were awaiting
the arrival of eight thousand Prussians, who were expected to go to
Althoff where they would form the extreme right wing. The enemy's
front line was protected by five hundred artillery pieces, of which a
third at least were of large calibre. The French situation was
much less favourable, since their two wings had not yet arrived. The
Emperor had, at the start of the action, only a part of the force with
which he had expected to do battle. Marshal Soult's corps was placed
on the right and left of Eylau, the Guard in the town itself, and
Augereau's corps between Eylau and Rothenen, opposite Serpellen. The
enemy formed almost a semicircle about us, and the two armies
occupied a terrain in which there were numerous ponds covered by
snow, which neither side could see.

Neither Marshal Davout, who should have been on our right, towards
Molwitten, nor Marshal Ney, who should have been on our left around
Althoff, had yet appeared, when at daybreak, about eight in the
morning, the Russians began the attack by a violent cannonade to
which our gunners, though fewer in numbers, replied. Though fewer,
they had the advantage, however of being much better trained than the
Russians, and also of directing their fire at masses of men who had
no cover, while the Russian cannon-balls mainly hit the walls of
Eylau and Rothenen. Soon a strong enemy column advanced with the
intention of capturing the town; it was vigourously repelled by the
Guard and Marshal Soult's troops. At this moment, the Emperor heard,
with much pleasure, that from the top of the church tower could be
seen Davout's men arriving via Molwitten and marching towards
Serpallen, from where they expelled the Russians and drove them back
to Klein-Sausgarten.

The Russian commander, Benningsen, seeing his left beaten and his
rear menaced by the audacious Davout, resolved to crush him, and
directed the greater part of his force against him. It was then that
Napoleon, with the object of preventing this movement by creating a
diversion against the enemy centre, ordered Augereau to attack,
although he foresaw the difficulties of this operation.

There are on the field of battle, circumstances when one must
sacrifice some troops in order to preserve the great majority and
ensure victory. General Corbineau, the Emperor's aide-de-camp, was
killed by a cannon shot near to us while bringing to Marshal
Augereau the order to advance. The marshal passed between Eylau and
Rothenen and led his two divisions boldly against the enemy centre,
and already the 14th Line regiment who made up our advance guard
had seized the position which the Emperor had ordered to be taken and
held at all costs, when the guns which formed a semi-circle about
Augereau hurled out a storm of ball and grape-shot of hitherto
unprecedented ferocity. In an instant, our two divisions were
pulverised under this rain of iron! General Desjardins was killed and
General Heudelet gravely wounded; however, they stood firm until the
corps having been almost entirely destroyed, the remnants were
compelled to retire to the cemetery of Eylau, with the exception of
the 14th, who almost entirely surrounded by the enemy, remained on
the little hill which they had occupied. The situation was made even
worse by a gale of wind which blew a heavy snowfall into our faces,
and reduced visibility to about fifteen paces, so that several French
batteries opened fire on us, as well as the Russians. Marshal
Augereau was wounded by a bullet.

The devotion of 7th Corps, however, produced a good result, for,
relieved by our attack, Marshal Davout was able not only to maintain
his position, but to take Klein-Sausgarten and even push his
advance-guard as far as Kuschitten, in the enemy's rear. Then, in an
attempt to deliver a knock-out blow, Napoleon despatched, between
Eylau and Rothenen, the squadrons commanded by Murat. This
terrifying mass fell on the Russian centre, overwhelming them,
cutting them down with their sabres and throwing them into the
greatest confusion. The valiant General D'Hautpoul was killed at the
head of his Cuirassiers, as was General Dahlmann, who had succeeded
General Morland in the command of the Chasseurs of the Guard. The
success of our cavalry allowed us to carry the day. Eight thousand
Prussians, escaped from pursuit by Marshal Ney, and arriving at
Althoff, tried to mount a new attack by advancing, one does not quite
know why, on Kuschitten instead of Eylau, but Davout drove them off,
and the arrival of Ney's corps at Schmoditten towards the end of the
day, made Benningsen fear that his line of communication would be cut,
and so he ordered a retreat in the direction of Konigsberg, leaving
the French masters of the horrible battlefield covered with dead and
dying. Since the invention of gunpowder one has not seen such a
terrible effect, for in relation to the numbers engaged at Eylau, in
comparison to all the battles, ancient or modern, the proportion of
losses was highest. The Russians had twenty-five thousand
casualties, and although the figure for French losses has been given
as ten thousand, it is my belief that it was at least twenty
thousand. A total of forty-five thousand men, of whom more than half
died!

Augereau's corps was almost entirely destroyed. Out of fifteen
thousand combatants under arms at the beginning of the action, there
remained by evening only three thousand, under the command of
Lieutenant colonel Massy: the marshal, all the generals and all the
colonels had been either killed or wounded.

It is difficult to understand why Benningsen, knowing that Davout
and Ney had not yet arrived, did not take advantage of their absence
to attack Eylau at daybreak with the numerous troops of the centre
of his army, instead of using precious time in bombarding us; for his
superior strength would certainly have made him master of the town
before the arrival of Davout, and the Emperor would then have
regretted having moved so far forward instead of consolidating his
position on the plateau of Ziegelhof and awaiting the arrival of his
flank forces, as he had intended the evening before.

The day after the battle the Emperor followed the Russians to the
gates of Konigsberg; but that town was fortified and it was thought
unwise to attack it with troops weakened by a sanguinary battle, and
what is more, almost all the Russian army was in Konigsberg and the
surrounding country.

Napoleon spent several days at Eylau, partly to collect the
wounded and partly to reorganise his forces. The survivors of
Augereau's corps were spread amongst other units and the marshal was
given leave to return to France for the treatment of his wound. The
Emperor, seeing that the bulk of the Russian army was now at a
distance, put his troops into billets in the towns and villages in
front of the lower Vistula. There was no interesting event during
the rest of the winter, except the taking of Danzig by our troops. 
Hostilities in the open country would not begin again until the month
of june, as we shall see later.

Chap. 34.

I did not want to interrupt the story of the battle of Eylau to
tell you what happened to me in this terrible conflict; a sad tale,
to understand which we must go back to the autumn of 1805 when the
officers of the Grande Armée were equipping themselves in preparation
for the Battle of Austerlitz. I had two good horses and was looking
for a third of a better quality, a charger. This was something
difficult to find, for although horses were infinitely cheaper than
they are today, they were still expensive, and I did not have much
money; but I had a piece of very good luck.

I ran into a German scholar, named M. d'Aister, whom I had known
when he was teaching at Sorèze; he was now tutor to the children of a
rich Swiss banker, M. Scherer, who lived in Paris and was an associate
of M. Finguerlin, who was a very wealthy man who kept up great state,
and had a stable of many horses, amongst which was a charming mare
called Lisette, an excellent animal from Mecklemberg, good-looking,
swift as a stag, and so well schooled that a child could ride her. 
But this mare had a dreadful and fortunately rare vice: she bit like
a bulldog, and attacked furiously anyone who displeased her, which
decided M. Finguerlin to sell her. She was bought by Mme. de
Lauriston, whose husband, an aide-de-camp to the Emperor, had written
to her to ask her to buy him a charger.

M. Finguerlin, when he sold the mare, had omitted to mention her
behaviour, and on the evening of her purchase, a groom, whom she had
torn open, was found lying at her feet. Mme. de Lauriston was justly
alarmed and demanded cancellation of the sale. Not only was this
done, but the police, in order to prevent another such accident,
required that a notice be fixed to Lisette's loose-box informing any
potential buyer of her ferocity, and that any sale would be null and
void unless the buyer declared in writing that he was aware of this
notice.

As you may imagine, with such a recommendation, the mare was very
difficult to sell; M. d'Aister told me that her owner was prepared to
let her go for whatever was offered. I offered a thousand francs and
M. Finguerlin handed Lisette over to me, although she had cost five
thousand. For several months she gave me a great deal of trouble; it
took four or five men to saddle her, and she could not be bridled
without being blindfolded and having all four legs tied; but once on
her back one found her a matchless ride.

However, since during the time I had owned her she had bitten
several people, including me, I was thinking of getting rid of her,
when, having taken into my service a man called Francis Woirland, who
was scared of nothing, he, before approaching Lisette, about whose
bad character I had warned him, armed himself with a very hot leg of
roast mutton, and when she attempted to bite him, he offered this to
her, which she seized in her teeth; but having burned her mouth and
her tongue, the mare gave a cry and dropped the gigot, and from that
moment she submitted herself to Woirland, whom she no longer dared to
bite. I tried the same trick and achieved the same result. Lisette,
as docile as a dog, allowed herself to be handled by myself and my
servant; she even became a little more tractable with the grooms whom
she saw every day, but woe betide any stranger passing too close to
her. I could give many examples of her ferocity, but I shall limit
myself to one.

While Marshal Augereau was staying at the château of Bellevue,
near Berlin, the servants, having noticed that while they were at
diner, someone was coming to steal the sacks of oats from the stable,
asked Woirland to leave Lisette loose near the door. The thief
arrived, slipped into the stable and was already carrying off one of
the sacks when the mare grabbed him by the neck, dragged him into the
yard and broke two of his ribs by trampling on him. People came
running to the cries of the terrified thief, whom Lisette was
unwilling to abandon until my servant and I persuaded her, for in her
rage she would have savaged anyone else. The wickedness of this
animal had got worse since the officer of the Saxon Hussars had
treacherously stabbed her in the shoulder on the battlefield of
Jena.

It was this mare that I was riding at the time when the remains of
Marshal Augereau's corps, shattered by a hail of cannon and grape
shot, were attempting to re-form in the area of the cemetery. You
will recall that the 14th Line regiment had stayed alone on the
little hill, which it might leave only if ordered to do so by the
Emperor. The snow having stopped for a moment, one could see this
gallant regiment almost completely surrounded by the enemy, waving
its Eagle aloft to show that it still stood fast and needed help.
The Emperor, touched by the devotion to duty of these brave men,
decided to attempt their rescue; he told Marshal Augereau to send an
officer with orders to them to quit the hillock, form a small square
and withdraw towards us; while a brigade of cavalry would go to meet
them and second their efforts.

This was before the great charge made by Murat and his cavalry,
and it was almost impossible to carry out the Emperor's command
because a swarm of Cossacks separated us from the 14th. It was clear
that any officer sent towards the unfortunate regiment would be
killed or captured before he got there. Nevertheless, an order is an
order; and the marshal had to obey.

It was the custom, in the imperial army, for the aides to line up
a few paces from their general, and the one in front went off first;
when he had completed his mission, he joined the back of the queue,
so that as each took his turn to carry orders, the dangers were
shared equally. A brave captain of engineers, named Froissart, who,
although not an aide-de-camp, was attached to the marshal's staff,
was nearest to him and was sent off to carry the order to the 14th. 
He left at the gallop; we lost sight of him in the midst of the
Cossacks and never saw him again, nor did we know what became of him.

The marshal, seeing that the 14th did not budge, sent another
officer, named David. He suffered the same fate as Froissart, and we
heard no more of him. It is likely that they were both killed, and
having been stripped of their clothing their bodies were not
recognisable among the many dead who covered the ground. For the
third time the marshal called out "An officer to take orders "!...It
was my turn.

When he saw before him the son of his old friend, and, I think I
may dare to say, his favourite aide-de-camp, the good marshal's face
fell and his eyes filled with tears, for he could not disguise from
himself that he was sending me to an almost certain death; but the
Emperor's order had to be obeyed; I was a soldier; no one else could
take my place, I would not have allowed something so dishonourable. 
So I took off! Now, while prepared to sacrifice my life, I thought it
my duty to take every precaution which might save it. I had noticed
that the two officers who had gone before me had left with drawn
sabres, which made me think that they intended to defend themselves
against the Cossacks who would attack them during the ride. This
intention was in my opinion ill-advised, for they would have been
forced to stop and fight a multitude of enemies who, in the end, had
overwhelmed them. I adopted a different approach, and leaving my
sabre in its scabbard, I thought of myself as a rider who, to win the
prize in a race, goes as fast as possible by the shortest route
towards the winning post without taking any notice of what is to
right or left of him during his passage. Now, my winning post being
the hillock occupied by the 14th, I resolved to get there without
paying any attention to the Cossacks, whom I blotted out of my
thoughts.

This system worked perfectly. Lisette, light as a swallow, and
flying rather than galloping, rushed through space, leaping over the
piled up bodies of men and horses, over ditches and the broken
mountings of guns, as well as the half-extinguished bivouac fires.
Thousands of Cossacks were scattered about the plain. The first ones
to see me behaved like hunters who, having raised a hare, mark its
presence by shouts of "Yours! Yours!" But none of them tried to
stop me, firstly because I was going so fast, and also perhaps
because each one thought I would be caught by his comrades who were
further on. In this way I escaped from them all and arrived at the
14th without either I or my excellent mare having suffered a scratch.

I found the 14th formed in a square on top of the hillock; but
the slope of the ground was so gentle that the enemy cavalry had been
able to carry out a number of charges, which had been vigourously
repelled, so that they were surrounded by heap of the dead bodies of
horses and Russian Dragoons, which formed a sort of rampart, and now
made the position almost inaccessible to cavalry; for even with the
aid of our infantrymen, I had great difficulty in getting over this
bloody and frightful defence work, but at last I was inside the
square.

Since the death of Colonel Savary, killed during the crossing of
the Ukra, the 14th had been commanded by a battalion commander; when
I gave this officer the order which I carried, for him to leave his
position and try to rejoin the army corps, he replied that the enemy
artillery which had been firing at them for an hour had occasioned
such heavy losses that the handful of soldiers which he had left
would inevitably be exterminated if they went down onto the level
ground; and anyway there was no time to prepare for the execution of
this movement, since a Russian column, coming to attack, was now
close to us. "I can see no way of saving the regiment," said the
battalion commander. "Go back to the Emperor and say good-bye to him
from the 14th; and take back the Eagle which we can no longer
defend."

The Eagles of the infantry were very heavy, and their weight was
increased by the long thick pole of oak on which they were mounted. 
I was bending forward and attempting to detach the Eagle from its
pole, when one of the many bullets which the Russians were firing at
us went through the back part of my hat, very close to my head. The
shock was made worse by the fact that the hat was held on by a strong
leather strap which went under my chin, and so offered more
resistance to the blow. I was partially stunned by this, and found
myself unable to move.

However the column of Russian infantry was now climbing the
hillock; they were Grenadiers, whose headgear, garnished with metal,
looked like mitres. These men, full of liquor, flung themselves on
the feeble remnants of the 14th, who defended themselves bravely with
their bayonets, and even when the square was broken, formed
themselves into little groups and continued for a long time the
unequal struggle. In my confused state, I was unable to react in any
way; I was attacked by a drunken Russian soldier, who thrust his
bayonet into my left arm, and then, aiming another blow at me, lost his
balance and missing his mark, he slashed Lisette's haunch.

The pain of this injury aroused her ferocious instincts, she
grabbed the soldier with her teeth and tore away the greater part of
his face,then, kicking and biting, she forced her way through the
melée and taking the path by which we had come, she went off at the
gallop in the direction of the Eylau cemetery while, thanks to the
Hussar's saddle in which I was seated, I remained on her back.

As we approached Eylau a new danger arose. The snow had started to
fall again and in the poor visibility a battalion of the Guard took
me for a Russian and opened fire on me, but although my cloak and my
saddle were hit, both I and my mare were untouched. Lisette,
continuing to gallop, went through the three lines of infantry like a
grass-snake through a hedge, but this last burst of speed drained her
resources, she was losing a lot of blood because one of the big veins
in her haunch had been cut, she collapsed suddenly and fell, throwing
me to the ground, where I was rendered unconscious.

I must have remained in this state for about four hours, and I was
not aroused by the great charge of Murat's ninety squadrons of
cavalry, which went past me and perhaps over me. When I came to,
this is the dreadful position in which I found myself. I was
completely naked except for my hat and my right boot. A soldier of
the transport section, believing me to be dead, had despoiled me, as
was customary, and in an attempt to remove my boot, was dragging at
my leg, with one foot on my stomach. I was able to raise the upper
part of my body and to spit out some clots of blood, my face,
shoulders and chest were badly bruised, and blood from my wounded arm
reddened the rest of my body. I gazed around with haggard eyes, and
must have been a horrible spectacle. The transport driver made off
with my possessions before I could summon my wits and address a word
to him. I was too dazed and weak to move, and unable to call for
help. The cold was increasing and I had little hope of surviving
without some form of miracle, and something like a miracle took
place.

Marshal Augereau had a valet de chambre, named Pierre Dannel, a
very intelligent boy, loyal, but inclined to be cheeky; and it so
happened that while we were at Houssaye, Dannel, having spoken back
to his master, had been given his notice. Desolated, Dannel begged
me to intercede for him, which I did with so much zeal that he was
reinstated in the marshal's good graces; since when the valet had
been devoted to me. Dannel had taken it on himself to come from
Landsberg, on the day of the battle, to bring some victuals to his
master, which he had put in a very light wagon, able to go anywhere,
and containing all the things that the marshal used most frequently. 
This little wagon was driven by a soldier who had served in the same
transport unit as the man who had stripped me. This fellow, carrying
my effects, was passing the wagon which was standing at the Eylau
cemetery when, recognising his old friend, he went up to him to show
him the lovely booty he had taken from a dead man.

Now, while we were in cantonments by the Vistula, the marshal
having told Dannel to go to Warsaw to get some provisions, I asked
him to take my pelisse and have the black astrakhan with which it was
trimmed, removed and replaced by grey; a style newly adopted by the
aides-de-camp of Prince Berthier, who set the fashion in the army. I
was still the only one of Marshal Augereau's officers who had grey
astrakhan.

Dannel, who was present when the transport driver displayed his
booty, easily recognised my pelisse, which made him look more closely
at the other belongings of the alleged dead man, amongst which he saw
my watch, marked with my father's initials, for it had been his. The
valet de chambre had no doubt that I had been killed, but mourning my
death, he wished to see me for the last time, and having been led
there by the transport driver, he found me alive!

This good fellow, to whom I owe my life, was overjoyed. He
hurried to fetch my own servant and some orderlies, who carried me
into a barn where they rubbed me down with rum, while they sent for
Dr. Raymond. When he at last arrived, he dressed the wound in my arm
and declared that the blood which I had lost would save me.

Soon I was surrounded by my comrades including my brother. A reward
was given to the transport rider who had taken my clothes, which he
handed over with good grace; but as they were soaked with blood and
water, Marshal Augereau had me wrapped up in clothes of his own.

The Emperor had given permission for Augereau to return to
Landsberg, but his wound made it impossible for him to ride a horse;
so his aides-de-camp got hold of a sledge on which they mounted the
body of a carriage. The marshal, who had decided not to abandon
me, had me strapped in beside him, for I was too weak to sit upright.

Before I was picked up from the battlefield, I had seen my poor
Lisette near to me. Her wound had stopped bleeding and she was back
on her feet, eating some straw which had been used by soldiers in
their bivouacs, the previous night. My servant, who was very fond of
Lisette, returned to look for her; he cut strips of clothing from a
dead soldier and dressed the wound on her haunch, and got her fit
enough to walk to Landsberg.

The commandant of the little garrison of the town, had had the
good sense to prepare quarters for the wounded. The officers of the
staff were put into a large and comfortable inn, so that instead of
spending the night lying naked in the snow, I was tucked into a good
bed and being looked after by my brother, my companions and the
worthy Dr. Raymond. The doctor had to cut the boot which the soldier
had tried to pull off, and even so, he had difficulty in getting it
off because my foot had swollen so much. You will see, later that
this could have cost me my leg, and perhaps even my life.

We stayed in Landsberg for thirty-six hours. The rest and the
care given me restored my ability to move, and when, on the second
day after the battle, Marshal Augereau set off for Warsaw, I was
able, though still very weak, to travel on the sledge. The journey
took eight days, because we moved only in short stages; I was
recovering my strength little by little, but I was aware of an icy
cold in my right foot.

On our arrival at Warsaw, I was put in a large house which had
been reserved for the marshal, which suited me very well, as I was
unable to get out of bed. The wound of my arm was healing, the
bruising of my upper body was dispersing, and my skin was resuming
its normal colour, however the doctor did not know why I could not
get up, and hearing me complain about my leg, he decided to have a
look at it, and what do you suppose he found? My foot had become
gangrenous! An accident which had occurred many years ago was the
cause of this. While I was at Sorèze, my right foot had been pierced
by the foil of a fencing opponent, which had lost its button. It
seems that this injury had made my foot more sensitive to cold, and
while I was lying on the snow it had become frostbitten, and not
having been treated in time, gangrene had set in at the site of the
old fencing injury, the area was covered by a scar the size of a five
franc piece. The doctor looked with alarm at my foot, then, taking a
bistoury, and having me held down by four servants, he picked off the
scab and dug into my foot to remove the dead flesh, just as one would
cut out the rotten part of an apple.

I suffered greatly, at first without complaining, though it was a
different matter when the bistoury, having reached live tissue,
exposed the muscles and bones, which one could see. The doctor then
stood on a chair and having soaked a sponge in warm sweetened wine,
he allowed it to fall, drop by drop into the hole he had made in my
foot. The pain was intolerable! Nevertheless I had to endure for a
week this fearful torture, but my leg was saved.

Today, when one is so prodigal with decorations and promotions, an
officer who ran the risks which I had run in reaching the 14th
regiment, would certainly be rewarded; but under the Empire this sort
of devotion to duty was regarded as so normal that I was given no
medal, and never thought of asking for one.

A long rest having been judged necessary for the cure of Marshal
Augereau's wound, the Emperor instructed him to go to France for
treatment, and brought Marshal Masséna from Italy; to whom my
brother, Bro and several of my friends were appointed. Marshal
Augereau took me with him, along with his secretary and Dr. Raymond. 
I had to be lifted in and out of the carriage, but otherwise I felt
my health improve the further we got away from those frozen wastes to
a more friendly climate. My mare spent the winter in the stables of
M. de Launay, the administrator of army forage supplies.

The marshal went by way of Rawa to Silesia. As long as we were
in dreadful Poland, where there are no metalled roads, it took twelve
and sometimes sixteen horses to drag the coach out of the bogs and
swamps through which we travelled. We went always at walking pace
and it was not until we reached Germany that we found ourselves in a
civilised country with proper roads. We stopped at Dresden, and
spent ten or twelve days at Frankfurt-on-Main, from where we had
marched the previous October to attack Prussia.

We finally reached Paris about the 15th of March. I could walk
with much difficulty, and had my arm in a sling, and I still felt the
effects of what I had been through, but the pleasure of seeing my
mother once more, and the care she devoted to me, combined with the
gentle influence of the returning spring, effected my cure.

Chap. 35.

I spent the end of March, all of April, and the first week of May
in Paris. It was during this time that I got to know the Desbrières,
a family of which my marriage was soon to make me a member. I had
recovered my health, and I realised that I could not stay any longer
in Paris. Marshal Augereau sent me to Marshal Lannes who took me
willingly onto his staff.

The Emperor, in order to keep an eye on any moves which the enemy
might be tempted to make during the winter, had settled himself in
the middle of the cantonments of his troops, first at Osterode and
then at the château of Finkenstein, from where, while planning a new
campaign, he governed France and directed his ministers, who, every
week, sent him their reports. The portfolios holding the various
documents furnished by each ministry were collected every Wednesday
by M. Denniée the elder, under-secretary of state for war, who sent
them off on Thursdays in the charge of a junior official whose duty
it was to deliver them into the hands of the Emperor. But this
system worked very badly because most of these officials had never
been out of France. They did not know a word of German, nor did they
understand the currency or the regulations regarding posting in
foreign countries, so they did not know how to manage matters once
they had crossed the Rhine. In addition, these gentlemen, being
unused to fatigue, soon found themselves overcome by that of a
journey of more than three hundred leagues, which lasted continuously
for ten days and ten nights. One of them was so incompetent as to
allow his despatches to be stolen. Napoleon was so angry at this
mishap that he sent a courier to Paris to tell M. Denniée not to give
the portfolios in future to officials except those who knew Germany,
and who, being able to support fatigue and privation, could carry out
their duties more efficiently.

M. Denniée was having great difficulty in finding anyone to fill
the post, when I turned up with a letter ordering me to report to
Marshal Lannes. Delighted to have found someone to take the next lot
of despatches, he warned me to be ready to leave on the coming
Thursday, and gave me five thousand francs for expenses and the
purchase of a carriage, which suited me very well, as I did not have
much money to get me back to the army in the depths of Poland.

We left Paris about the 10th of May. Both my servant and I were
armed, and if one of us left the coach the other remained on guard. 
We knew enough German to keep the postilions up to the mark, and as
I was in uniform, they obeyed me with more alacrity than they would a
civilian official. So that instead of taking the usual nine and a
half or ten days over the journey, we made it in eight and a half.

The Emperor was delighted to have his despatches twenty-four hours
earlier than expected, and after praising the keenness which had led
me to ask to return to duty in spite of my recent wounds, he added
that as I had been so efficient a courier, I could leave for Paris
that same night to take back some other portfolios; a task which
would not prevent me from taking part in the campaign, which could
not restart before the beginning of june.

Although I had spent nothing like the five thousand francs which
M. Denniée had given me, the marshal of the palace gave me the same
sum to return to Paris, which I did as quickly as possible. I stayed
no more than twenty-four hours in the capital, and left once more
for Poland; the minister again gave me five thousand francs for this
third journey; it was far more than was necessary, but that was how
Napoleon wanted it. It is true that these trips were very tiring and
very boring, even though the weather was fine. I was on the road day
and night for nearly a month in the sole company of my servant.

I reported to the Emperor at Finkenstein, and was afraid that I
might have to continue as postman until fighting broke out, when
fortunately some replacements were found and the Emperor authorised
me to go to Marshal Lannes, to whom I reported at Marienberg on the
25th May. He had with him Colonel Sicard, Augereau's aide-de-camp,
who had been kind enough to take charge of my horses. It was with
much pleasure that I saw once more my mare Lisette, who was fit
enough for more service.

The fortress of Danzig, besieged by the French during the winter,
had fallen into their hands. The return of the good weather soon saw
campaigning recommence. The Russians attacked our cantonments on the
5th of June, and were sharply repulsed at every point. On the 10th
there was a fierce encounter at Heilsberg which some historians
describe as a battle. The enemy were once more defeated. I shall
not go into any detail about this affair, since Marshal Lannes' corps
took very little part in it, not having arrived until nightfall. We
did, however, come under some heavy fire and Colonel Sicard was
mortally wounded. He had already been wounded at Eylau, and although
scarcely recovered from his injuries, had returned to take part in
the renewed fighting. Before he died, the good colonel requested me
to say his farewell to Marshal Augereau, and gave me a letter for his
wife. I was very much upset by this painful scene.

The army now being in pursuit of the Russians, we passed through
Eylau. The fields which we had left three months previously
covered with snow and dead bodies, were now overspread by a
delightful carpet of green, bedecked with flowers. What a contrast!
How many soldiers lay beneath those verdant meadows? I went and sat
at the place where I had fallen and been despoiled, and where I also
would have died, had not a truly providential combination of
circumstances come to my aid. Marshal Lannes wanted to see the
hillock which the 14th had so valiantly defended. I took him there.
Since the time of the battle, the enemy had been in occupation of the
place; however, we found, still intact, the monument which all the
corps of the French army had erected to the memory of their dead
comrades of the 14th, thirty-six of whose officers had been buried in
the same grave. This respect for the dead reflected honour on the
Russians. I remained for a few moments on the spot where I had been
hit by the bullet and wounded by the bayonet, and thought of the
brave men who lay in the dust, and whose fate I had so nearly shared.

The Russians, having been defeated on the 10th of June at
Heilsberg, retreated hastily and got a day ahead of the French who,
by the evening of the 13th, were concentrated beyond Eylau, on the
left bank of the Alle. The Russians occupied Bartenstein on the
right bank of this river, which the two armies now descended on
opposite sides.

Benningsen, whose stores of food and ammunition were in
Konigsberg, where the Prussian corps was stationed, wanted to reach
this town before the arrival of the French, but to do so he had to
cross over onto the left bank of the Alle, where there were the
French troops. The Russian commander hoped to reach Friedland
sufficiently far ahead of the French to be able to cross the river
before they could oppose him. The same reasons which made Benningsen
wish to hold on to Konigsberg, made Napoleon wish to capture it. He
had for several days constantly manoeuvred to out-flank the Russian
left, and keep them away from the place, in the direction of which he
had sent Murat, Soult and Davout to oppose the Russians if they
arrived before us.

The Emperor, however, did not stick to this scheme, and foreseeing
that the Russians would attempt to cross the Alle at Friedland, he
aimed to occupy the town before they did, and on the night of the
13th-14th June, he despatched towards it the corps of Marshal Lannes
and Mortier, and three divisions of cavalry. The rest of the army was
to follow.

Marshal Lannes, who was in the van, with the Oudinot Grenadiers
and a brigade of cavalry, having arrived at Posthenen, a league from
Friedland, sent the 9th Hussars to reconnoitre the latter town. They
were repulsed with losses, and daybreak revealed a large part of the
Russian army massed on the opposite bank of the Alle on the high
ground between Allenau and Friedland. They had begun to cross the
old town bridge, beside which they had constructed two new ones.

The aim of the two armies was very easily understood. The Russians
wanted to cross the Alle to get to Konigsberg, and the French wanted
to stop them and drive them back across the river, which had very
steep banks. The only crossing point was at Friedland. The Russians
had difficulty in deploying from Friedland onto the open ground of
the left bank, owing to the fact that the way out of the town was
much restricted by a large lake, and by a stream called the Mill
Stream, which ran in a very steep-sided ravine. To protect their
crossing, the Russians had placed two strong batteries of guns on the
right bank, which could cover the town and part of the land between
Posthenen and Heinrichsdorf.

The Emperor was still at Eylau: the various corps marching towards
Friedland were still several leagues away, when Marshal Lannes,
having marched all night, arrived before the town. The marshal would
have liked to attack the enemy immediately; but already they had
thirty thousand men drawn up on the level ground before Friedland,
and their lines, the right of which was opposite Heinrichsdorf, the
centre at the mill stream, and the left at the village of Sortlack,
were being endlessly reinforced; while Marshal Lannes had no more
than ten thousand men; however, he deployed them skillfully in the
village of Posthenen and the woods of Sortlack, from where he
threatened the Russian's left flank, while with two divisions of
cavalry he tried to stop their advance toward Heinrichsdorf, which
lay on the route from Friedland to Konigsberg. There was a brisk
exchange of fire before Mortier's corps arrived. Mortier, to dispute
with the Russians the road to Konigsberg, while waiting for fresh
reinforcements, occupied Heinrichsdorf and the area between this
village and Posthenen. However, it was not possible that Lannes and
Mortier with twenty-five thousand men could resist the seventy
thousand Russians who would soon face them. The situation was
becoming highly critical. Marshal Lannes sent a succession of
officers to warn the Emperor to hasten the arrival of the army corps
which he knew were coming up behind him. Mounted on my swift
Lisette, I was the first to go. I met the Emperor as he was leaving
Eylau; he was beaming with pleasure! He called me to his side, and as
we galloped along, I had to explain to him what had happened before I
left the battle. When I had finished my recital, the Emperor said to
me, smiling, "Have you a good memory?" "Passable, Sir," I replied. 
"Well what anniversary is this, the 14th of June?" "Marengo" I said
"Yes! Yes! The anniversary of Marengo," said the Emperor, "and I shall
beat the Russians as I beat the Austrians!"

Napoleon was so convinced about this, that as he went along the
columns, where the men greeted him with many cheers, he said to them
repeatedly "Today is a lucky day, it is the anniversary of Marengo!"

Chap. 36.

It was after eleven o'clock when Napoleon arrived on the
battlefield, where several corps had already come to join Lannes and
Mortier. The remainder, including the Guard, were arriving one by
one. Napoleon readjusted the line: Ney was on the right, positioned
in the wood at Sortlack; Lannes and Mortier formed the centre,
between Posthenen and Heinrichsdorf; the left stretched out beyond
this last village. The heat was overpowering. The Emperor gave the
troops an hour's rest, after which, at the signal of a volley by
twenty-five guns, a general attack would begin.

Marshal Ney's corps had the most difficult task, for they were to
come out of their hiding place in the woods of Sortlack, fight their
way into Friedland, which was filled with the main forces and
reserves of the enemy, seize the bridges and thus cut off the
Russian's way of retreat.

It is difficult to understand why Benningsen had placed his forces
in front of the narrow exit from Friedland, and with their backs to
the Alle with its steep banks, in the presence of the French who
commanded the open country. The explanation given later by the
Russian general was that having been a day ahead of Napoleon, he did
not believe that the French troops could cover in twelve hours a
distance which had taken his men twenty-four hours, and he had
thought that Lannes' corps was an isolated advance-guard of the
French army, which he could easily crush. When this illusion had
been dissipated, it was too late to bring his army back to the other
bank because the narrow defile at Friedland would have caused
certain disaster, so he preferred to stand and fight.

At about one in the afternoon, the twenty-five guns at Posthenen,
given the order by the Emperor, fired a volley, and battle was joined
all along the line. At first our left and our centre moved very
slowly to give the right, commanded by Ney, time to capture the
town. The marshal, emerging from Sortlack wood, took the village of
that name and advanced rapidly towards Friedland, sweeping aside
everything in his path; but as they moved forward from the wood and
the village of Sortlack to the first houses of Friedland, Ney's
troops were exposed to the fire of the Russian batteries which,
positioned behind the town on the heights of the opposite bank,
caused them severe losses. This fire was made more dangerous by the
fact that the gunners, separated from us by the river, could aim
their guns in safety, knowing that our infantry could not attack
them. This serious problem could have led to the failure of the
attack on Friedland, but Napoleon overcame it by sending General
Senarmont with fifty guns, which he placed on the left bank of the
Alle, and subjected the Russian batteries to such heavy fire that
they were soon silenced. As soon as the enemy fire had ceased,
Marshal Ney resumed his advance, driving the Russians back into
Friedland, and mingled in confusion with them, entered the streets of
the unfortunate town, where the mortar bombs had started a huge fire.

A savage bayonet fight ensued in which the Russians, crammed
together and scarcely able to move, suffered enormous losses! ... At
last, in spite of their courage, they were compelled to retreat in
disorder and seek refuge by crossing the bridges to the other bank;
but General Senarmont had moved his guns into a position from which
he could fire on the bridges, which he soon broke, after killing many
of the Russians who were attempting to escape across them. All those
who remained in Friedland were either killed, captured or drowned
while trying to cross the river.

Up until this point, Napoleon had, so to speak, made his left and
his centre mark time; he now moved them rapidly forward. General
Gortschakoff, who commanded the centre and right wing of the enemy,
attempted, bravely, to recapture the town, (which would have been of
no use, because the bridges were down, although he did not know
that). He charged at the head of his men into the burning
Friedland; but driven out by Ney, who was occupying the town, and
forced back into the open, he found himself confronting our centre,
who drove him back to the Alle at Kloschenen. The Russians defended
themselves heroically and refused to surrender although completely
surrounded. Many of them were killed by our bayonets, the remainder
rolled down the steep banks into the river, where a large number were
drowned.

The extreme right of the enemy was composed mostly of cavalry who
tried during the battle to capture or outflank the village of
Heinrichsdorf; but driven off by our troops, they went back to the
banks of the Alle, under the command of General Lambert, who, seeing
that Friedland was in the hands of the French and that the Russian
left and centre were defeated, gathered all he could of the regiments
of the right wing and made off from the battlefield down the side of
the Alle. Nightfall prevented the French from following, so his was
the only body of Russian troops to escape the disaster.

Our victory was one of the most complete; we captured all the
Russian guns; we did not take a many prisoners during the action, but
a great many of the enemy were killed or wounded, amounting to more
than twenty-six thousand; our losses were no more than three thousand
dead and four or five thousand wounded. Of all the battles fought by
the Emperor, this was the only one in which the number of his troops
exceeded that of the enemy. The French strength was eighty thousand
and the Russian's only seventy-five thousand. The remnants of the
Russian army marched in disorder all night, and retired behind the
River Pregal, having destroyed the bridges.

Marshals Soult, Davout and Murat had not been involved in the
battle of Friedland, but their presence induced the Russians to
abandon Konigsberg, which town our troops entered. We found there an
immense store of all kinds of material.

I did not suffer any injury during the battle, though I ran into a
number of dangers. You saw how I left Posthenen in the morning, on
Marshal Lannes' orders, to go as quickly as possible to warm the
Emperor that the Russians were crossing the Alle, and that a battle
appeared imminent. Napoleon was at Eylau; I had therefore to make a
journy of about six leagues to reach him, which would have presented
no difficulty to my excellent mare if the road had been clear, but as
it was congested by the troops of various units hurrying to the aid
of Marshal Lannes at Friedland, there was no way in which I could
gallop along it. I therefore went across country, which meant that
Lisette, having had to jump hedges, fences and ditches, was already
very tired when I met the Emperor, who was just leaving Eylau.
However, I had, without a moment of rest, to return with him to
Friedland, and although this time the troops moved to one side to let
us pass, my poor mare, having galloped over twelve leagues
altogether, six of them being across country, and in very hot
weather, was utterly exhausted by the time I had rejoined Marshal
Lannes on the battlefield. I realised that Lisette could not
continue to carry me during the action, so, taking advantage of the
rest which Napoleon allowed the troops, I set out to look for my
servant, in order to change horses; but in the middle of such a large
collection of troops there was not much hope of finding him. It was,
in fact, impossible, and I went back to the staff still mounted on
the weary Lisette.

Marshal Lannes and my comrades, who saw my problem, had advised me
to dismount and allow my mare a few hour's rest, when I caught sight
of a Hussar leading a horse which he had captured from the enemy. I
took it over, and gave Lisette to one of the troopers of the
marshal's escort, so that he could take her back behind the lines,
let her have some food and hand her over to my servant, when he could
find him. I then got astride my new mount, took my place among the
aides-de-camp, and when it came to my turn, I went off.

I was, at first, very pleased with my fresh horse, until the time
came when, Marshal Ney having gone into Friedland, Marshal Lannes
sent me to warn him of an enemy movement. I had barely entered the
town when this devil of a horse, which had behaved so well in the
open country, finding itself in a little square, where all the houses
were on fire and the street covered with burning planks and
furniture, in the midst of which a number of bodies were being
roasted, was so frightened by the sight of the flames and the smell
of burning flesh that it would go neither forward nor back, and,
digging in its heels, it remained motionless, snorting loudly, and no
amount of spurring would persuade it to move. Now the Russians,
having gained a momentary advantage, pushed our men back to the point
where I was, and from the height of a church and some neighbouring
houses, they were raining down bullets, while two guns which they
carried with them fired grape-shot at the soldiers among whom I was.

Many men were killed around me, which recalled to my mind the
position in which I had found myself at Eylau in the middle of the
14th. As I was not anxious to be wounded again and in any case, in
staying where I was I was not carrying out my mission, I simply
dismounted, and abandoning my infernal mount, I slipped through the
houses to contact Marshal Ney at another spot, which was pointed out
by some officers.

I was with him for some fifteen minutes; there were some bullets
flying around, but nothing like so many as there had been at the
place where I had left my mount. The Russians were eventually driven
back at bayonet point and forced to retreat toward the bridges,
whereupon Marshal Ney sent me to take the good news to Marshal
Lannes. To get out of the town, I took the same route as I had taken
to get in, and went through the little square where I had left my
horse. It had been the scene of a fierce encounter which had left
many dead and dying, among whom I saw my stubborn horse, its back
broken by a cannon-ball, and its body riddled by bullets!.... From
there I made for the outskirts in something of a hurry because the
burning houses were collapsing on all sides and I was afraid of
being buried beneath the debris. At last I got out of the town and
reached the edge of the lake.

The heat of the day, added to that of the fire which was raging in
the streets through which I had passed, had bathed me in sweat, and I
was dropping with fatigue and hunger, for I had spent a night on
horseback to come from Eylau to Friedland, I had galloped back to
Eylau and returned to Friedland once more, and had not eaten since
the previous evening. I was not looking forward, therefore, to
crossing, under a blazing sun, the large area covered with high
standing corn which separated me from Marshal Lannes. But once
again I had a stroke of luck. General Grouchy's division of
dragoons had been engaged not far away in a sharp encounter in
which, although victorious, they had lost a number of men, and the
colonels had, as was usual, collected the horses of the men who had
been killed and put them in the hands of a detachment which would
lead them away. I saw this body of men, of which every trooper was
leading four or five horses and was taking them to the lake to drink.

I spoke to the officer in charge who, encumbered by all these led
horses, was only too glad to let me have one, which I promised to
return to his regiment in the evening. He picked out for me an
excellent beast, which had been the mount of a sous-officier killed
during the charge; astride of this horse, I returned rapidly to
Posthenen.

I had hardly left the edge of the lake when it became the theatre
of the most savage encounter, which was due to the desperate attempt
made by Gortschakoff to reopen a way of retreat by capturing the road
to Friedland which was held by Marshal Ney. Caught between the
marshal's troops and those of our centre, who were now advancing,
Gortschakoff's Russians defended themselves bravely amongst the
houses bordering the lake; so that if I had stayed there, where I had
thought of resting for a while, I would have landed in the middle of
this fierce outbreak of fighting. I rejoined Marshal Lannes at the
moment when he was moving towards the lake to attack the rear of the
Russian troops whom Ney was driving away from the front of the town,
and I was able to give him some useful information about the terrain
on which we were fighting.

If the French army did not take many prisoners during the battle
of Friedland, it was a different matter the next day and the days
following; for the Russians, pursued with a bayonet at their backs,
thrown into complete disorder and utterly exhausted, were abandoning
their ranks and lying down in the fields, where we captured a great
number. We also collected a large quantity of artillery. All those
members of Benningsen's army who escaped hurried back across the
Nieman, behind which was the Russian emperor who, perhaps recalling
the danger to which he had been exposed at Austerlitz, had judged it
unwise to assist in person at the battle of Friedland; and two days
after our victory he hastened to ask Napoleon for an armistice, to
which Napoleon agreed.

Three days after the battle the French army reached the town of
Tilsit and the river Nieman, which at this point is only a few
leagues from the frontiers of the Russian empire.

The rear of a victorious army presents a most dismal spectacle. 
The path of their advance is strewn with the dead, dying, and wounded,
while the survivors, soon forgetting those comrades who have fallen
in the fighting, rejoice in their success and go forward cheerfully
to new adventures. Our men were delighted to see the Nieman, whose
opposite bank was occupied by the remains of that Russian army which
they had defeated in so many engagements; and where, in contrast to
their own lighthearted songs, there reigned a mournful silence.
Napoleon established himself at Tilsit, and his troops encamped
around the town. The Nieman separated the two armies; the French
occupied the left bank and the Russians the right.

The Emperor Alexander having requested a meeting with
Napoleon, this took place on the 25th of June, in a pavilion on a
raft anchored in the middle of the river, in sight of the two armies
which lined the banks. It was a most imposing spectacle. The two
emperors arrived, each from his own side, accompanied by only five of
the principal officers of their armies. Marshal Lannes, who flattered
himself that he should accompany the Emperor, saw himself displaced
by Marshal Bessières, an intimate friend of Prince Murat; and he
never forgave the marshals for depriving him of what he considered
his right.

So Marshal Lannes stayed with us on the quay at Tilsit, from where
we saw the two emperors embrace on meeting, which occasioned much
cheering from both camps. The next day, the 26th, in the course of a
second interview which took place once more in the pavilion on the
Nieman, the Russian emperor presented to Napoleon his unfortunate
friend, the King of Prussia. This prince whom the fortunes of war
had stripped of a vast kingdom, leaving him only the small town of
Memel and some miserable villages, maintained a bearing worthy of a
descendant of Frederick the Great: Napoleon greeted him politely but
coolly, for he considered that he had reason to complain of his
conduct, and he planned to confiscate the greater part of his states.

To facilitate the meetings of the two Emperors, the town of Tilsit
was declared neutral, and Napoleon handed over half of it to the
Russian emperor, who set himself up there with his Guard. The two
sovereigns spent some twenty days together, during which time they
decided the fate of Europe. During these proceedings, the King of
Prussia was relegated to the right bank, and had no quarters in
Tilsit, which he visited but rarely. One day Napoleon went to call
on the Queen of Prussia, who was said to be greatly distressed. He
invited her to dine with him on the following day. She accepted the
invitation, no doubt with little pleasure, but realising that at a
time when peace was being sought it was necessary to take every
measure to soften the heart of the victor.

Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia thoroughly detested one another:
she had grossly insulted him in several proclamations, and he had
returned the complement in his bulletins. Their meeting, however,
did not display their mutual hatred; Napoleon was respectful and
attentive, the queen gracious in her attempts to captivate her former
enemy; attempts made all the more determinedly as she was not unaware
that the peace treaty created--under the name of the kingdom of
Westphalia--a new state, whose territory was to be provided by the
electorate of Hesse, and by Prussia itself.

The Queen was resigned to the loss of several provinces, but she
could not accept the loss of the fortified city of Magdeberg,
possession of which was needed for the security of Prussia. For his
part, Napoleon, who planned to nominate his brother Jérôme as King of
Westphalia, intended to add Magdeberg to this new state. It appears
that, during the meal, the Queen deployed her not inconsiderable
charms, and when Napoleon, to change the conversation, praised a
superb rose which the Queen was wearing, she said to him, "Would your
majesty not accept this rose in return for Magdeberg?" A more
chivalrous person might have accepted, but Napoleon was too much of a
realist to be won over by a pretty proposition. One may be sure that
he restricted himself to admiring the beauty of the rose and also of
the hand which proffered it, but he did not take the flower, which
brought tears to the Queen's eyes. The conqueror, however, did not
seem to notice. He kept Magdeberg and politely conducted the Queen to
the boat which was to carry her to the opposite bank.

During our stay at Tilsit, Napoleon held a review of his Guard
and the army in the presence of Alexander, who was impressed by the
martial air and bearing of these troops. The Russian Emperor, in his
turn, put on display some fine battalions of his Guard, but he did
not dare to parade his line regiments, whose numbers had been so
greatly reduced at Heilsberg and Friedland. As for the King of
Prussia, of whose regiments there remained only the broken débris, he
did not exhibit them at all.

Napoleon drew up, with Russia and Prussia, a peace treaty in which
the principal articles related to the creation of the kingdom of
Westphalia for the benefit of Jérôme Bonaparte. The elector of
Saxony, now an ally and friend of France, was elevated to the dignity
of king, and was awarded, in addition, the Grand Duchy of Warsaw,
composed of a vast province of the former Poland, which was recovered
from the Russians. I shall not go into the less important articles
of the treaty, which resulted in the re-establishment of peace
between the great powers of continental Europe.

In elevating his brother to the throne of Westphalia, Napoleon
added to the mistakes he had already made in awarding the kingdom of
Naples to Joseph and that of Holland, Louis. The people of these
countries felt humiliated at being ruled by foreigners who had not
themselves done anything of importance and who were, in fact,
nonentities, who had no merit except that of being Napoleon's
brothers. The dislike and distrust which these new kings attracted
contributed largely to the Emperor's downfall. The conduct of the
King of Westphalia in particular made very many enemies for
Napoleon.

Having concluded the treaty, the two Emperors parted with mutual
assurances of friendship, which at the time seemed sincere.

Chap. 37.

The French army was spread out into the various provinces of
Germany and Poland under the command of five marshals, in whose
number Lannes had asked not to be included, since his ill-health
required his return to France. If I had been his permanent
aide-de-camp, I would have had to return with him, but I had an even
better reason for going, and that was to rejoin Marshal Augereau, to
whose staff I had not ceased to belong, my attachment to Marshal
Lannes being only temporary. I made ready to return to Paris: I
sold, as well as possible, my two horses, and I sent Lisette to the
registrar-general, M. de Launey, who, having taken a liking to her,
had asked me to let him have her when I had no further use for her. 
Her injuries and hard work had calmed her down, and I lent her to him
for an indefinite period; he mounted his wife on her, and kept her
for seven or eight years until she died a natural death.

During the twenty days which the Emperor had spent at Tilsit, he
had despatched a great many officers, some to Paris, some to other
parts of the empire, so that there were hardly any left available for
duty. Napoleon did not want to take officers from their regiments, so
he ordered a list to be made of all those who had joined the campaign
voluntarily and those who did not belong to any army corps nor to the
staff of any of the five marshals who were in command. I was
included in this list, and felt sure that the Emperor, for whom I had
already carried despatches, would choose me in preference to officers
whom he did not know; and indeed, the Emperor sent for me on the 9th
of July, and having given me some voluminous portfolios and some
despatches for the King of Saxony, ordered me to go to Dresden and
await him there. The Emperor intended to leave Tilsit that same day,
but was going on a long detour to visit Konigsberg, Marienwerder, and
Silesia, so that I would be several days ahead of him.

I crossed Prussia once more, and saw again several of our
battlefields; I went through Berlin and arrived at Dresden two days
before the Emperor. The court of Saxony was aware that a peace had
been agreed, and that it raised the elector to the rank of king, and
awarded him the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, but they did not yet know that
the Emperor was to pass through Dresden on his way to Paris; it was I
who gave this information to the new king.

You may imagine the result of this! ...Immediately the court, the
town, and the army were thrown into a turmoil to organise a grand
reception for the great Emperor who, after having so generously
restored to liberty the Saxon troops captured at Jena, had loaded
their sovereign with honours! I was received with enthusiasm; I was
lodged in the château in a fine apartment, where I was magnificently
cared for, and the king's aides-de-camp showed me round all the
interesting sights of the palace and the town. Eventually the Emperor
arrived, and in accordance with the protocol, which I already knew, I
hurried to hand over the portfolios to M. Meneval, and to ask for the
Emperor's further orders. These I found agreeable, for I was
instructed to carry some fresh portfolios to Paris, and the Emperor
gave me a letter which I was to deliver personally to the Empress
Josephine. The marshal of the palace, M. Duroc, gave me eight
thousand francs to cover the expense of the journey from Tilsit to
Dresden and from Dresden to Paris. I took to the road in high
spirits: I had just taken part in three fine campaigns, during which
I had been promoted to captain, and had been noticed by the Emperor;
we were about to enjoy the delights of peace, which would allow me to
spend a long time with my mother; I was fully recovered; I had never
had so much money; everything conspired to make me happy, and I was
very happy.

I arrived at Frankfurt-on-main, where a lieutenant colonel of the
Imperial Guard named M. de L... was in command. The Emperor had
given me a letter for this officer, from whom he wanted, I think,
some confidential information, for M. de L... was in touch with
M. Savary, who ran the secret police. This colonel invited me to dine
with him, after which he conducted me back to my coach; but as I got
in I noticed a fair sized package which was not part of my
despatches. I was about to call for my batman to get an explanation
for this, when Colonel de L... stopped me, and told me, in an
undertone, that the package contained some dresses in Berlin knitwear
and other materials banned in France, and was destined for the
Empress Josephine, who would be much obliged to me for bringing them
to her! I recalled only too well the cruel anxieties I had suffered
as a result of the false report which I had been persuaded to give
the Emperor regarding the numerical strength of the "Chasseurs a
Cheval" at Austerlitz, to consent to be engaged once more in some
underhand business: so I flatly refused. To be sure I would have
liked to please the Empress, but I was aware of the inflexible
severity with which Napoleon treated those found guilty of smuggling,
and after facing so many dangers, and shedding so much of my blood in
battle, I had no wish to sacrifice whatever merit I had gained in the
eyes of the Emperor by transgressing his laws in order to draw a
smile of thanks from the Empress. To overcome my objections Colonel
de L... pointed out that the package had several wrappings, of which
the outermost, addressed to the minister for war, bore the seal of
the 7th Light Infantry and the designation "Record of accounts." He
was sure that the customs would not dare open such a package, the
outer covering of which I could remove when I reached Paris and
deliver the stuff to the Empress without being compromised; but in
spite of all this fine reasoning, I absolutely refused to take part
in this transaction and ordered the postilion to set off.
When we arrived at the post-house, half way between Frankfurt and
Mainz, I took my batman to task for having taken into the coach this
extra package; he replied that during dinner time, M. de L... himself
had put these packages into the coach: he had supposed that they
contained more despatches, and had not thought that he could refuse
to accept them from the hands of the commanding officer in person. "Did you say packages?" I cried, "were there then several? He took
away only one." And now, rummaging amongst the Emperor's portfolios,
I found a second package of contraband which the colonel had put
into my trunk without my knowledge. I was taken aback by this
trickery and was tempted to throw the dresses onto the highway. 
However I did not dare, and I continued my journey, determined that
if the contraband was seized I would explain how it had been put into
my coach, and by whom the stamp of the 7th Light Infantry had been
put on the wrapping; for I had no wish to face the anger of Napoleon;
but as this defence would have compromised the Empress,I decided that
I would use it only as a last resort, and that I would make every
effort to avoid my coach being examined. A stroke of luck and a
little subterfuge got me out of this dilemma.

I arrived, very worried, at the bridge over the Rhine at Mainz,
which separates Germany from France, and my anxiety was increased by
the sight of the great collection of customs officers and soldiers in
unifor, who were waiting round this frontier. When my carriage was
stopped, in the usual manner, two men arrived simultaneously at the
door; one was a customs officer, to carry out a search, and the other
was an aide-de-camp to Marshal Kellerman, who was in command of the
station, and who wanted to know if the Emperor was on his way. This
is my chance! I thought to myself, and pretending not to notice the
customs officer, I replied to the aide-de-camp, "The Emperor is
coming behind me." This was no lie, he was indeed following me, but
at an interval of two days...which I did not think it necessary to
add.

My words were heard by all around me and threw them into a state
of frenzied activity. The aide-de-camp went off across the bridge at
the gallop, at risk of tumbling into the Rhine in his haste to warn
Marshal Kellerman. The guard took up their arms. The customs men and
their superiors tried to arrange themselves in the most military
manner possible in order to look good in front of the Emperor and,
as my carriage got in their way, they told the postilion to clear
off....So there I was! Freed from their clutches!

I went on to the posting-house and quickly changed horses; but
while this was being done, a violent storm broke over Mainz and the
rain began to fall in torrents. It was five o'clock in the
afternoon, dinner time; but on the news of the approaching arrival
of the Emperor, the general alarm was beaten throughout the town; on
which signal the marshal, generals, prefect, mayor, civil and
military authorities, all threw down their napkins, and hastily
donning their best clothes, they went in the pouring rain through
the streams of water running in the streets to take up their posts;
while I, who was the cause of all this commotion, was laughing my
head off as I made off at full speed drawn by three good post-horses.

In view of the fact that the Empress was willing to disobey her
august spouse by wearing clothes made of prohibited material, and
that a colonel was willing to slip contraband into my coach without
my knowledge, the trick which I had played seemed to me to be
excusable. In any case, since it was June, the soaking which I had
caused these Mainz officials to undergo would do no harm except to
their clothes. When I was far from Mainz, I could still hear the
sound of drums, and I learned afterwards that they had stayed up all
night. The Emperor arrived two days later, but as he had had an
accident to his coach, the good citizens of Mainz blamed that for the
delay of which their fine clothes were the victims.
I was heading swiftly and happily towards Paris, when a most
disagreeable accident interrupted my progress, and turned my
happiness to annoyance. You will understand that when a sovereign
travels, it would be impossible to supply a change of horses for the
numerous carriages which precede and follow him, if the staging posts
were not reinforced by horses, known as "de tournée", brought from
posts established on other routes. Now, as I was leaving Dombasle, a
little town this side of Verdun, a confounded postilion "de
tournée" who had arrived the night before, not having noticed a steep
hill which one encounters after leaving the staging post, lost
control of his horses during the descent and overturned my carriage,
breaking the springs and the bodywork. To make matters worse, it was
a Sunday and all the population had gone to a fete in a neighbouring
village, so that I could not find a workman. Those that I found the
next day were so unskillful that I had to spend two mortal days in
this miserable place.

I was about to set out again when an outrider having announced the
arrival of the Emperor, I took the liberty of stopping his coach to
tell him of the accident which I had suffered. He laughed, took back
the letter for the Empress which he had given me, and went on his
way. I followed him to St. Cloud, from where, after giving the
portfolios to the cabinet secretary, I went to my mother's home in
Paris.

I took up once more my position as aide-de-camp to Marshal
Augereau, a very easy task, as it consisted of going every month to
spend one or two weeks at La Houssaye, where daily life was always so
amusing. Thus rolled by the end of the summer and the autumn; during
which time the Emperor's policies were leading towards fresh events
and storms whose terrible commotions would nearly swallow me up; me,
a very small personage, who, in his carefree youth, thought of
nothing but enjoying life, after having seen death at such close
quarters.

It has been rightly said that the Emperor was never so great and
powerful as in 1807, when, after defeating the Austrians, the
Russians and the Prussians, he had concluded a peace so favourable to
France and to himself. But scarcely had Napoleon ended his war
against the northern powers, when his evil genius drove him to
undertake one even more terrible, in the south of Europe, in the
Iberian peninsula.

End of Volume 1, The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot.
Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot.
Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

Contents of Volume 2.

Chap. 1. My marriage. Farewell to Masséna.

Chap. 2. Biography of Masséna.

Chap. 3. 1812. Appointed to 23rd Chasseurs. The intrigues of Count
Czernicheff.

Chap. 4. War becomes inevitable. Warnings given to Napoleon. The
Imperial court at Dresden. Faulty composition of army.

Chap. 5. Review by the Emperor. The army at the Nieman. Notes on
historians of the 1812 campaign. Bernadotte's attitude. The Poles.

Chap. 6. Crossing of Nieman. Entry into Wilna. I meet the enemy. The
23rd at Wilkomir. Problems in Lithuania. The advance.

Chap. 7. The Russian army split. Bagration escapes from Jérôme.
Fruitless attack on Dvinaberg. I defeat two of Wittgenstein's units.
We leave the Grande Armée. Composition of 2nd Corps.

Chap. 8. Jakobovo and Kliastitsoui. I am wounded.

Chap. 9. The marsh at Sebej. Retreat. The ford at Sivotschina. Death
of Koulnieff. A last farewell.

Chap. 10. Fresh withdrawal by Oudinot. Marches and countermarches.
Retreat to Polotsk. General St. Cyr. Oudinot is wounded. St. Cyr takes
over.

Chap. 11. Surprise attack on the enemy. Various incidents. We settle
in Polotsk.

Chap. 12. The advance of the Grande Armée. Capture of Smolensk. The
battle for Moscow.

Chap. 13. Bad news from Spain. Rostopschine. The fire of Moscow.
Revival of the Russian army. Koutousoff's treachery.

Chap. 14. Decision to retreat. Napoleon forced to change route. I
become a Colonel. Bravery of Ney as rearguard.

Chap. 15. Situation of 2nd Corps. Bavarian demoralisation. Mission to
Count Lubenski.

Chap. 16. The Austrians defect. The defence of Polotsk. Wittgenstein
captured but escapes. The Bavarians leave us. We join Marshal
Victor. 

Chap. 17. Oudinet returns and separates from Victor. Grave situation
of the army. Loss and recapture of Borisoff. The bridge over the
Beresina burnt. We collect much booty from Borisoff. 

Chap. 18. Corbineau rejoins 2nd Corps. The enemy are deceived.

Chap. 19. Loss of Partouneaux's division. The catastrophe at the
Beresina. 2nd Corps forms the rearguard. I am wounded again.

Chap. 20.Intense cold. Thieving in the army. Arrival at Wilna. Using
sledges. Arrival at Kovno. Crossing the Vistula. 

Chap. 21. Causes of our disaster.

Chap. 22. Worrying general situation. Incompetent administration.
Question the retention of fortresses. The state of France. I go to the
depot at Mons.

Chap. 23. New hostilities on the Elbe. Battles of Lutzen and Bautzen.
An armistice. I rejoin the regiment. The state of the army. Napoleon
should negotiate.

Chap. 24. The armistice broken. Treachery of Jomeni. A painful check.

Chap. 25. The battle of Dresden. Vandamme at Kulm.

Chap. 26. Oudinot and Macdonald both suffer defeat. The plateau of
Jauër. We recross the Katzbach.

Chap. 27. Forces concentrate at Dresden. The Baskirs.

Chap. 28. The battle of Leipzig.

Chap. 29. Vain attempt at armistice. Battle of 18th October.
Bernadotte fights against us. Indecisive result of fighting.

Chap. 30. A critical situation. Lack of preparation for a retreat. The
allies enter Leipzig. Premature destruction of the bridge over the
Elster.

Chap. 31. I gather the remnants of our army at the Elster. The retreat
to the Saale. Erfurt. The army reached Hanau.

Chap. 32. The battle of Hanau. The retreat continues.

Chap. 33. The last events of 1813. Dresden surrendered. Disasters in
Spain. The situation in Italy and the Tyrol. 

Chap. 34. I am nominated commandant of the department of Jemmapes. A
difficult position. Our troops are recalled to Paris.

Chap. 35. Napoleon's last stand. Resistance becomes impossible.
Inadequate measures taken to defend Paris. Belated return of the
Emperor to the capital. Paris should have been held. Underhand
plotting against Napoleon. 

Volume 2.

Chap. 1.

My brother and the rest of Masséna's aides-de-camp made haste to
leave Spain and come to join us in Paris, where I remained all summer
and the following autumn. I went each month to spend some days at the
Château de Bonneuil, the home of M. and Mme. Desbrières. During my
absence the Desbrières had been most friendly towards my mother, and
on my return the affection I had felt for a long time for their
daughter was increased, and I was shortly permitted to ask for her
hand in marriage. The marriage was agreed, and I even had, for a
time, the hope of being promoted to colonel before this important
ceremony took place.

It was the accepted thing for the Emperor to sign the marriage
contract of any of the colonels in the army, but he only very rarely
accorded this favour to officers of lower rank, and they were
required to inform the minister for war of the reasons which led them
to ask for this distinction. I based my request on what the Emperor
had said to me when I saw him on the eve of the battle of Marengo. 
He had said to me, speaking of my father who had died during the
siege of Genoa, "If you behave yourself and follow in his footsteps,
I, myself, will be your father." I added that since that day I had
been wounded eight times, and was conscious that I had always done my
duty.

The minister, Clarke, a very stern character, who almost always
rejected requests of this sort, agreed that mine merited
consideration, and promised me that he would submit it to his
majesty. He kept his word, for a few days later I was ordered to
report to the Emperor at the château of Compiègne, and to bring with
me the notary who held the contract of marriage; this was the good
M. Mailand, with whom I set off in a post carriage.

When we arrived, the Emperor had gone hunting: not that he much
enjoyed the sport, but he thought that he should copy the former
kings of France. The signing was therefore put off until the next
day, which greatly upset M. Mailand who was awaited in Paris. But
what could one do?

On the following day we were presented to the Emperor, whom we
found in the apartment where, twenty years later, I have so often
served as aide-de-camp to princes of the House of Orléans. My
contract was signed in the salon where later was signed that of the
King of Belgium with Princess Louise, the daughter of King
Louis-Phillipe of France.

During these short interviews, Napoleon was always very affable. 
He addressed some questions to the notary, asked me if my fiancée was
pretty, what was her dowry, etc. etc. On dismissing me he said that
he would like to see me in a good position, and that he would soon
reward me for my good services. For a moment I saw myself as a
colonel, and this hope was reinforced when, on leaving the Imperial
presence, I was accosted by General Mouton, Comte de Lobau, who
assured me confidentially that the Emperor had put my name on a list
of officers to whom he wished to give the command of a regiment. My
pleasure on hearing this was increased by my knowledge that the Comte
de Lobau, an aide-de-camp to Napoleon, was responsible under the
minister for war, for military promotions. I returned to Paris full
of joy and hope! I was married on the 14th November following.

I was happy in the bosom of my family, and expected every day my
brevet as colonel, when I was told by the minister for war that I was
to be posted as Major to the 1st regiment of Mounted Chasseurs, then
in garrison in the depths of Germany. I was much downcast at this
news, for it seemed to me most hurtful that I should be sent once
more to serve as a simple squadron commander, a rank in which I had
been wounded three times and had campaigned from Wagram to Portugal. 
I could not understand why I was being treated like this, after what
the Emperor and the Comte de Lobau had said to me. It was the latter
who gave me the key to this puzzle.

Masséna, on his entry into Portugal, had fourteen aides-de-camp,
of whom six were senior officers. Two of these, MM. Pelet and
Casabianca, were made colonels during the campaign; they were senior
to me and had amply fulfilled their duties. Their promotion seemed to
make mine the more certain since I now became the most senior
squadron commander on the staff. The man in the fifth place was
M. Barain, who was a captain when I joined the staff. M. Barain had
lost a hand at Wagram, and was promoted to major, which was fair;
however, the Emperor in advancing him to this rank had designated him
for work in the arsenals, work which can easily be done with an arm
missing. Masséna had expected that M. Barain would remove himself,
but the latter insisted on going with him to Portugal, although he
could not carry out any mission in such difficult country. No one
thought therefore that he would get any further promotion.

It so happened, however, that M. Barain was a nephew of M. Francois
de Nantes, the director of legal codification, who had found
numerous positions for members of Masséna's family. M. Francois de
Nantes demanded in return that his nephew, Barain, should be
recommended for the rank of colonel. The marshal, forced to choose
between me and Barain, chose Barain. I learned from the Comte de
Lobau that the Emperor was reluctant to sign, but that he eventually
yielded to the insistence of the worthy director who had come to add
weight personally to the only request he had yet made on the behalf
of his family. So Barain was promoted to colonel.

I have perhaps dwelt a little overmuch on this regrettable affair,
but to assess my disappointment it is necessary to think back to the
period in question and recall the important position occupied by
battalion commanders in the imperial army, which resulted in several
instances of colonels who refused promotion to general and asked only
to be left in command of their regiments.

Masséna sent me the following letter, the only reward for three
campaigns fought and three wounds recieved under his command.

Paris. 24th November. 1811

My dear Marbot, I send you the service order which I have received
on your behalf. I asked for promotion for you, as you are aware, and
I am doubly disappointed that you did not obtain this and that I am
also to lose you. I have been very satisfied with your services; a
satisfaction which you are entitled to feel, regardless of any
rewards which this may bring. Your record will always do you credit
in the eyes of those under whose orders you may find yourself. Please
believe, my dear Marbot, in my appreciation, my regrets and my
sincere good wishes for you.

Masséna.

I had not expected to meet Masséna again, but his wife wrote to me
saying that she wished to meet my wife, and inviting us both to
dinner. I had always had the highest regard for the conduct of
Madame Masséna, particularly at Antibes, her home territory, where I
met her for the first time, on my return from Genoa. So I accepted
the invitation. Masséna came up to me and once more expressed his
regrets, and suggested that he might ask for my nomination as an
officer of the Legion of Honour. I replied that as he had been
unable to do anything for me when I was on his staff, and wounded
before his eyes, I would not like to expose him to any further
embarrassment, and that I would now seek advancement by my own
efforts; then I lost myself in the crowd of guests.

This was my last contact with Masséna, though I continued to visit
his wife and his son, both of them my firm friends.

Chap. 2.

I shall now give you some details of Masséna's career. André
Masséna was born on the 6th of May 1758 at La Turbie, a village in
the little state of Monaco. His paternal grandfather was a respected
tanner who had three sons: Jules, the father of the marshal,
Augustin and Marcel. The first two of these went to Nice, where they
set up a soap-works. Marcel went to France where he enlisted in the
Royal-Italian regiment. When Jules died, leaving very little money
and five children, three of them, amongst whom was the young André,
were taken in charge by their uncle Augustin, who having taught them
no more than to read and write, employed them in soap-making.

André, who was active and adventurous, could not adjust to the
monotonous and laborious work of the factory, and at the age of
thirteen he abandoned his uncle's home and embarked, secretly, as a
cabin-boy, in a merchant ship; accompanied by one of his cousins
named Bavastro, who became, during the wars of the empire, the most
celebrated corsaire of the Mediterranean. As for André, having spent
two years at sea and even made a voyage to America, he rebelled
against the hard life and harsh treatment which were the lot of the
seaman, and enlisted as a private soldier in the Royal-Italian
regiment, under the auspices of his uncle Marcel, who had reached the
rank of sergeant-major, and was soon to be commissioned. This Marcel
Masséna, whom I met in 1800, when he was commandant of the fortress
at Antibes, was a serious and capable man, highly thought of by his
Colonel, M. Chauvet d'Arlon. To help his nephew, he had him taught to
speak and write reasonable French, and, in spite of some escapades,
had him promoted to the rank of warrant-officer. He even held out
some hope of a commission in the mounted constabulary, but André,
tired of waiting, left at the end of his engagement.

Having gone back to civilian life, without any money, André joined
forces once more once more with his cousin Bavastro, and taking
advantage of the close proximity of the frontiers of France,
Piedmont, the State of Genoa, and the sea, they embarked on smuggling
on a grand scale, not only along the coast but across the mountains,
the various passes through which he got to know extremely well;
knowledge which he later found most useful when he was in command of
troops in this part of the country. Hardened by the rough trade of
smuggling, and compelled always to keep one jump ahead of the customs
officers, Masséna acquired, without being aware of it, an
understanding of the principles of warfare, as well as the vigilance
and activity without which one cannot become a good officer. Having
by this means got together some capital, he married a French woman,
Mlle. Lamarre, the daughter of an Antibes surgeon, and settled in this
town, where he had built up a small business in olive oil and dried
Provencal fruit, when the Revolution of 1789 broke out.

Influenced by his taste for arms, Masséna left his wife and his
shop and enrolled in the 1st battalion of volunteers from Var. His
practical and theoretical knowledge of military matters earned him
the rank of captain, and shortly after, that of major. Fighting soon
broke out, and the courage and skill displayed by Masséna elevated
him rapidly to the ranks of colonel and brigadier-general. He was
put in command of a camp called "the camp of a thousand pitchforks,"
in part of which was the 4th artillery company, commanded by Captain
Napoleon Bonaparte, under whose orders he would serve later in Italy.
Entrusted with the command of a column at the siege of Toulon, he
distinguished himself by the capture of the forts Lartigues and
Sainte-Catherine, which led to his promotion to divisional general. 
After the town had fallen, he joined his troops to the army of Italy
where he was prominent in all the engagements which took place in the
area between the shores of the Mediterranean and Piedmont; country
which he knew so well. Intelligent, ceaselessly active, and of
boundless courage, Masséna, after some years of success, had already
a high reputation, when a grave mistake nearly brought his career to
an end.

At the beginning of the campaign of 1796, General Bonaparte had
just become commander-in-chief of the army, which placed Masséna,
once his senior in rank, under his command. Masséna, who always led
the advance-guard, having defeated near Cairo (Cairo in Piedmont,
not Cairo in Egypt. Ed.) an Austrian unit, learned that the enemy
officers had planned a celebratory dinner in the inn of a nearby
village which they had been forced to abandon. He conceived the
notion, together with some brother officers, of taking advantage of
this windfall, and left his division camped on the top of a fairly
high mountain.

However the Austrians recovered their nerve, and charging back,
they fell on the French camp at daybreak. Our soldiers, although
taken by surprise, defended themselves bravely, but with no general
in control, they were driven back to the edge of the plateau where
they had spent the night, and, attacked by greatly superior forces,
looked certain to suffer a major defeat when Masséna, having with
his sabre cut his way through the Austrian scouts, ran up a path
which he knew of old and appeared in front of his troops who, in
their indignation, received him with well-deserved cat-calls. The
general, without taking too much notice, resumed command and
proceeded to march his division to rejoin the main body of the army. 
It was then seen that a battalion placed the night before on an
isolated hillock could not come down by any practicable route
without coming under enfilading fire from the enemy. Masséna
scrambled quickly up the hillside on his hands and knees and went
alone to the battalion where he addressed the men and assured them
that he would get then out of this fix if they would follow his
example. Ordering them to sheathe their bayonets, he sat on the snow
at the edge of slope, and pushing himself by his hands, he slid to
the bottom of the valley....All our soldiers, in fits of laughter,
did the same, and in no time the whole battalion was gathered
together, out of the range of the baffled Austrians. This method of
descent, used by the peasants and mountain guides of Switzerland, had
surely never before been used by a battalion of troops of the line. I
have been assured by generals who were in Masséna's division at the
time that this incident actually occurred, and, nine years later, I
was at the château of La Houssaye, when Marshal Augereau entertained
the Emperor and all the marshals and I heard them joking with Masséna
about the new method of retreat which he had used on this occasion.

It seems that on the day that Masséna was making use of this odd
expedient, which he had often used in the days when he was a
smuggler, Bonaparte, realising that he was very young to be appointed
commander-in-chief, and feeling on that account that he should come
down hard on any officer who failed in his duty, ordered Masséna to
be brought before a court-martial and accused of abandoning his post,
which could result in a sentence of death or at the least
cashiering!... But at the moment when the general was about to be
arrested there began the famous battle of Montenotte, in which
Masséna's and Augereau's divisions took two thousand prisoners, four
flags and five artillery pieces, and completely routed the Austrian
army. After this triumph, to which Masséna had largely contributed,
there could not be any question of putting him on trial. His
misdeeds were forgotten, and he was able to continue his splendid
career.

Masséna distinguished himself at Lodi, Milan, Verona, and Arcoli,
in fact everywhere that he was in action, and in particular at the
battle of Rivoli. When the preliminaries of a peace had been signed
at Leoben, Masséna who had contributed so much to our victories, was
entrusted with the task of taking the draft treaty to the government.
Paris welcomed him with the most lively expressions of admiration,
wherever he went people crowded round him to gaze on the features of
this famous warrior. But this triumph was soon eclipsed by his
exaggerated love of money, which was always his principal weakness.

General Duphot, the French ambassador in Rome, had been
assassinated in that city. A part of the army of Italy, under the
command of Berthier was ordered to go and exact vengeance; but
Berthier was recalled by Bonaparte who wanted to take him to Egypt,
and his place as commander of the army in Rome was taken by Masséna.
Soon after the arrival of this general, who was already accused of
procuring a great deal of money during the Italian campaigns of the
previous year, the army complained that it was in a state of
destitution, without clothing and almost without bread, while the
administration, drawing millions from the Papal states, lived in
luxury and abundance. The army turned against him and sent a
deputation of one hundred officers to demand from Masséna an account
for the expenditure of this money. Whether he was unable to account
for it or whether he refused to do so as a matter of discipline
Masséna would not give any explanation, and as the troops persisted
in their demand, he was forced to leave Rome and give up his command.

As soon as he had returned to France, he put out a memorandum
justifying his conduct, which was badly received by the public and by
his colleagues to whom he had addressed it. What upset him most was
that General Bonaparte left for Egypt without replying to a letter
which he had written to him concerning the matter.

However, a new coalition of Russia, Austria, and England having
declared war on France, hostilities recommenced. In such
circumstances, Masséna, although he had not cleared himself from the
accusations brought against him, could not remain in obscurity; so
the Directory, in order to make use of his military talents,
hurriedly gave him command of the French army whose duty it was to
defend Switzerland. Masséna at first did very well; but having
rashly attacked the dangerous defile of Feldkirch, in the Vorarlberg,
he was driven off with losses by the Austrians.

This was a time when our army of the Rhine, commanded by Jourdan,
had just been defeated at Stockach by Prince Charles of Austria, and
the forces which we had in Italy, defeated at Novi by the Russians
under Souvarow, had lost their commander-in-chief, Joubert, killed on
the field of battle. The Austrians, ready to cross the Rhine,
threatened Alsace and Lorraine; Italy was in the hands of the
Russians, whom Souvarow was leading into Switzerland through the
Saint-Gothard pass. France, on the point of being invaded over both
its frontiers, at the Rhine and at the Alps, pinned all its hopes on
Masséna, and was not disappointed in her expectations.

As you already know, the Directory, impatient for action,
threatened Masséna with dismissal unless he engaged the enemy; but he
was determined not to do so until circumstances gave him a
superiority, however brief, over his opponent. At last this moment
arrived. The maladroit General Korsakoff, a former favourite of
Catherine II, had unwisely pushed on towards Zurich at the head of
50,000 Russians and Bavarians to await his commander-in-chief,
Souvarow, who was on his way from Italy with 55,000 men. Before the
arrival of Souvarow, Masséna pounced like a lion on Korsakoff,
surprising him in his camp at Zurich and driving him back to the
Rhine after inflicting tremendous losses! Then, turning on Souvarow,
whom the heroic resistance of General Molitor had held up for three
days in the Saint-Gothard, he defeated him as he had defeated his
lieutenant, Korsakoff.

As a result of these various engagements 30,000 of the enemy were
killed or taken prisoner, fifteen flags and sixty guns were captured,
the independence of Switzerland was secured, and France was delivered
from an imminent invasion. This was Masséna's finest (and cleanest) hour.

I have already told how Masséna took charge of the disorganised
army of Italy, which, after the death of General Championnet, had
been briefly commanded by my father, and described his conduct of the
defence of Genoa, which gave Napoleon the time to collect a force
together, cross the Alps, and fight the battle of Marengo.

After this victory the First Consul, on his return to France,
thought he could not commit the command of the army of Italy to a
more illustrious officer than Masséna; but in a few months there were
complaints similar to those made by the army in Rome. The
dissatisfaction was widespread, new taxes were levied and frequent
requisitions made on a variety of pretexts, and yet the troops were
unpaid! The First Consul, when he learned of this state of affairs,
immediately and without explanation withdrew the command of the army
from Masséna, who returned to private life, where he showed his
annoyance by refusing to vote in favour of Napoleon's
life-consulship. He also did not present himself at the new court.

When Bonaparte mounted the imperial throne and rewarded the
generals who had done most for the country, he included Masséna in
the first list of marshals, awarded him the grand cordon of the
Legion of Honour, and created him head of the fourteenth cohort of
the order, which he had just established. These dignities and the
enormous emoluments which were attached to them overcame the
resistance put up by Masséna since he was deprived of the command of
the army of Italy. He voted for the empire, went to the Tuileries
and assisted at the coronation ceremony.

When a third coalition menaced France, in 1805, the Emperor gave
Messéna the task of defending, with forty thousand men, the northern
part of Ital, against the attacks of the Archduke Charles of
Austria, who had eighty thousand. This was a difficult operation;
but not only did Masséna hold Lombardy, but he pushed the enemy back
beyond the Tagliamento, and by forcing Prince Charles to turn and
face him at frequent intervals, he so delayed the Austrian general's
progress that he was unable to arrive in time to save Vienna, nor to
join the Russian army which Napoleon defeated at Austerlitz.
Napoleon, however, did not seem to appreciate the services rendered
by Masséna on this campaign; he reproached him for not having acted
with his usual vigour, which did not prevent him, after the treaty of
Presberg, from instructing him to go and conquer the kingdom of
Naples, on whose throne he wished to place his brother, Prince
Joseph.

Within a month the French occupied the whole of the country except
the fortified town of Gaete, which Masséna took after a siege. But
while he was directing the attack against this town, he suffered a
loss which rendered him inconsolable. An enormous sum, which Masséna
claimed belonged to him, was confiscated by the Emperor!

Napoleon, who believed that the best way of forcing the English to
ask for peace was to ruin their trade, to prevent their goods from
entering the continent, ordered them to be seized and burned in all
the countries under his control, that is to say more than half of
Europe. But the desire for money is very powerful and business men
are very crafty. A fool-proof system of smuggling had been devised. 
English merchants who were in the scheme, sent off a ship or ships
full of merchandise which allowed themselves to be captured by one of
our corsairs, who would then take it to one of the ports occupied by
our troops, from Swedish Pomerania to the end of the kingdom of
Naples. This first act having been carried out, it remained to get
the goods ashore without confiscation, this had already been
arranged. The immensely long coastline presented by the conquered
countries could not be watched in its entirety by customs officers,
so this function was carried out by soldiers under the command of the
generals who were in charge of the kingdom or province occupied by
our troops. So it required only an authorisation from one of them
to permit the goods to be landed, after which the traders negotiated
with the "protector." This was called a "licence."

The origin of this new form of commerce goes back to the days when
Bernadotte was occupying Hamburg and a part of Denmark. He made a
considerable amount of money in this way, and when he wanted to
reward someone, he would give the person a licence, which could then
be sold to a merchant. This practice spread, little by little, to
all the coasts of Germany, Spain and mainly to Italy. It even got as
far as the Emperor's court, where ladies and chamberlains were given
licences by ministers. Napoleon was not told of this, but he knew,
or suspected, that it went on. Nevertheless, in order not to
interfere too drastically with the usages of the conquered countries,
he tolerated this abuse outside France as long as it was carried on
clandestinely, but if he discovered that someone had made immoderate
profits from the illicit trade, he made them cough up. For example,
when the Emperor heard that M. Michaux, the administrative head of
Bernadotte's army, had lost, in one evening, 300,000 francs, in a
Paris gaming house, he directed an aide-de-camp to write to him
saying that the Invalides was in need of money, and that he was
ordered to pay 300,000 francs into their account; which Michaux, who
had made so much money from licences, hastened to do.

As you may imagine, Masséna was not the last to engage in the
business of selling licences. Together with General Solignac, his
chief of staff, he flooded all the ports of Naples with them. When
the Emperor was informed that Masséna had deposited the sum of three
million with a banker at Leghorn, who had taken at the same time
600,000 from General Solignac, he had a request sent to Masséna for a
loan of one million, and one for 200,000 francs from his chief of
staff. Just one third of their illegal gains, which was not fleecing
them too greatly. However, at the sight of this demand, Masséna,
bellowing as if he were being disembowelled, replied to Napoleon that
as the poorest of the marshals, with a numerous family and crippling
debts, he profoundly regretted that he could not send him anything!
And general replied in similar terms.

They were congratulating themselves on having evaded these
requests when, during the siege of Gaeta, the son of the Leghorn
banker arrived to say that a French treasury inspector, escorted by
a commissioner of police and a number of gendarmes, had arrived at
his father's establishment and had demanded to see the accounts in
which were recorded the deposits made by the marshal and general
Solignac, stating that these sums belonged to the army, and had been
entrusted to the two officers concerned, and that the Emperor
demanded their immediate return, either in cash or negotiable bonds,
and the cancellation of the receipts given to Masséna and Solignac. 
A legal endorsement was given to this seizure which the banker,
having nothing to lose, did not oppose.

It is impossible to describe Masséna's fury on finding that he had
been deprived of his fortune. It made him quite ill, but he did not
dare to make any complaint when the Emperor, who was then in Poland,
sent for him.

After the peace of Tilsit, the title of Duke of Rivoli and an
award of 300,000 francs of income were a recompense for his services,
but did not console him for what had been taken from him at Leghorn,
for, in spite of his usual caution, he was heard to say on a number of
occasions "I think it cruel that, while I was fighting in his
interest, he had the gall to take the small savings I had banked at
Leghorn!"

The invasion of Spain having sparked off a new war with Austria,
the Emperor, threatened by these considerable forces, hurried back
from the peninsula to go to Germany, to where he had already sent
Masséna. I have already described the part played by the marshal in
the campaign of 1809. As a reward for his conduct at Essling and
Wagram, the Emperor created him Prince of Essling and gave him an
additional income of 500,000 francs, which was added to his previous
award of 300,000 francs and his salary of 200,000 as marshal and army
commander. The new prince had no more than that.

The campaigns of 1810 and 1811 in Spain and Portugal were
Masséna's last. They were not very happy; his morale had gone down
and the two campaigns, instead of adding to his fame, lowered his
reputation. The "Enfant chéri de la victoire," as he had been named,
suffered reverses where he could and should have been successful.

Masséna was thin and bony, and of less than average height. His
Italian features were full of expression. The bad sides to his
character were hypocrisy, spite, harshness, and avarice. He had
plenty of natural intelligence but his adventurous youth and the
lowly position of his family had not encouraged him to study; he was
totally lacking in what one calls education. In the heyday of his
career he had a keen eye and a decisive mind and was not dismayed by
a reverse. As he aged his caution began to verge on timidity, so
anxious was he not to besmirch the reputation he had acquired. He
hated reading, so he had no idea of what had been written on the
principles of warfare, he acted intuitively, and Napoleon summed him
up accurately when he said the Masséna arrived on the battlefield
without knowing what he was going to do, his actions were determined
by circumstances.

It has been wrongly said that Masséna was a stranger to flattery,
and spoke his mind fearlessly even to the Emperor. Beneath his rough
exterior Masséna was a shrewd courtier. When in the course of a
pheasant shoot, Napoleon had the misfortune to pepper Masséna,
injuring one of his eyes, Masséna laid the blame on Berthier,
although only Napoleon had fired a shot. Everyone understood
perfectly the discretion of the courtier, and Masséna was overwhelmed
by attentions from the Emperor.

Although very miserly, the victor of Zurich would have given half
his fortune to have been born in the France of the "Ancien Régime"
rather than on the left bank of the Var. Nothing displeased him more
than the Italian termination to his name, of which he transformed the
"a" to "e" in his signature. However the public did not adopt this
change, and Masséna he remained in spite of his efforts. The campaign
in Portugal had so much weakened Masséna physically and mentally,
that he was obliged to seek rest and recuperation in the gentle
climate of Nice, where he stayed for the whole of 1812; but Napoleon,
returning from the disastrous invasion of Russia, and scouring Europe
for further resources, thought that the name of Masséna could still
be of service, particularly in Provence. So he appointed him
governor of the 8th military division.

When, in 1814, enemy forces invaded France, Masséna, who, in any
case, had few troops at his disposal, did nothing to arrest their
progress, and on the 15th April he surrendered to the Duc
d'Angoulême, who created him a Commander of Saint Louis, but would
not elevate him to the peerage, on the pretext that he had been born
abroad, and had never become a naturalised French citizen! ... As if
the victories of Rivoli, Zurich, the defence of Genoa, and a series
of other successful actions on the behalf of France were not worth as
much as naturalisation papers, given often to scheming foreigners
for cash. The treatment given to Masséna in these circumstances had
a very adverse effect on sentiment in the public and the army, and
was an additional source of the disenchantment of the nation with the
government of Louis XVIII, which led to the return of the Emperor.

Napoleon disembarked near to Cannes on 1st March 1815 and set off
immediately for Paris at the head of about a thousand Grenadiers of
his Guard. The unexpectedness and swiftness of this invasion threw
Masséna into confusion. Nevertheless, he tried to stem the torrent
by calling together some line regiments and activating the national
guard of Marseilles and district; but having learned that the Duc
d'Angoulême had surrendered and left the country, he sent his son to
inform Louis XVIII that he could no longer rely on his support, and
rallying to the imperial government, he hoisted the tricolour
throughout the area and locked up the prefect of Var, who still
wanted to resist. By this conduct Masséna alienated both the
Royalists and the Bonapartists; so when the Emperor hurriedly
summoned him to Paris, he greeted him very coolly.

When, soon afterwards, Napoleon made the great mistake of
abdicating for the second time, following the battle of Waterloo, the
Chamber of Representatives seized power and formed a provisional
government whose first act was to invest Masséna with the command of
the national guard of Paris. It was hoped that, although his
infirmities prevented him playing any active role, his name would
inspire the populace to support the army in the defence of the
capital, but when a council of war was assembled, Masséna gave it as
his opinion that Paris could not be defended! As a consequence an
armistice was agreed with the enemy generals and the French army
withdrew across the Loire, where it was disbanded.

Once the allies were masters of France, Louis XVIII, to punish
Masséna for having abandoned his cause after March 20th, included him
among the judges who were to try Marshal Ney, hoping that out of
enmity he would condemn his former colleague and so besmirch his good
name; but Masséna recused himself on the grounds that there had been
disagreements between him and Marshal Ney in Portugal, and when this
measure failed he joined with those judges who wanted Ney brought
before the House of Peers. They had hoped to save him, but it would
have been better if they had had the political courage to try him and
acquit him....They did not dare! Ney was condemned and shot, but his
blood did not pacify the Royalists, they became more implacable and
soon pursued Masséna himself.

The citizens of Marseilles, on whose behalf Masséna had used his
influence to obtain the freedom of their port, now denounced him to
the Chamber of Deputies on the grounds of peculation. There was no
evidence to support this charge, as Masséna had never exacted any
money in Provence, and the chamber, although known for its hatred of
the leading figures of the empire, rejected the petition out of hand.

Masséna, having escaped from the wave of reaction which was now
sweeping the country, abandoned the stage on which he had played so
brilliant a part, and retired to his château of Rueil, which had once
belonged to Cardinal Richelieu, to end his splendid career in
solitude and disgrace. He died on the 4th April 1817, at the age of
fifty-nine.

At his death, the government had not sent the baton which is by
custom placed on the bier of a marshal, so his son-in-law, General
Reille, claimed this insignia from the minister for war, a fervent
Royalist. When he received no reply to this reasonable request, in
an act of courage, rare at the time, he let it be known to the court
that if a baton did not arrive in time for his father-in-law's
funeral, he would place ostentatiously on his coffin, the baton
awarded to him by the Emperor. The government then decided that they
would supply a baton after all.

I have touched on some of the blemishes which mar his career, but
Masséna more than compensated for them by the remarkable and heroic
services he rendered to France. He will be remembered as one of the
great captains of an era which produced so many.

Chap. 3.

At the beginning of 1812, I was in Paris, with my young wife and
our families. But the happiness which I enjoyed was lessened by the
thought of my imminent departure. I was due to join the 1st
Chasseurs à Cheval as a squadron commander with the rank of Major.
The chagrin which I felt at not having been promoted to Colonel,
which I thought I deserved, was somewhat relieved when, having gone
to the Tuileries to pay my new year respects, the Emperor sent an
aide-de-camp to command my presence in his private quarters, where I
found General Mouton, Comte de Lobau, who had always been on my side.

Napoleon appeared and told me in the most friendly manner that he
had intended to give me a regiment, but that there were certain
reasons which had led him to nominate Major Barain. He said that
having promoted three of Masséna's aides to Colonel he could not
accord any more promotions to one general staff, but that he had not
forgotten me and although he could not give me the nominal command,
he would put me in the position of being, in effect, a regimental
commander. "The commanding officer of the 23rd Mounted Chasseurs,
M. de La Nougarède, has become so afflicted by gout that he can hardly
mount a horse", the Emperor said, "but he is an excellent officer
who has fought several campaigns with me, and I have a high regard
for him. He has begged me to let him try to go once more on campaign
and I do not wish to remove him from his regiment. However, I hear
that this fine unit is going down hill in his hands so I am sending
you as "Coadjutor" to M. de La Nougarède. You will be working for
yourself, for if the Colonel recovers his health I shall promote him
to general, and if not I shall transfer him to the gendarmes. In
either case he will leave his regiment and you will become their
colonel; so I repeat you will be working for your own benefit." This
promise gave me renewed hope, and I was making ready to leave when
the minister for war extended my leave until the end of March, which
I found very acceptable.

The 23rd Chasseurs were stationed in Swedish Pomerania, so I had
an enormous distance to travel, and as I wished to arrive before the
expiration of my leave, I left Paris on the 15th of March, parting
with much regret from my dear wife. I had bought a good barouche, in
which, at the request of Marshal Mortier, I gave a seat to his
nephew, Lieutenant Durbach, who belonged to the regiment which I was
about to join. As my former servant, Woirland, had asked if he might
stay in Spain, where he hoped to make his fortune running a canteen,
I had replaced him, on my leaving Salamanca, by a Pole named Lorentz
Schilkowski. This man, at one time an Austrian Uhlan, was not
lacking intelligence, but, like all Poles he was a drunkard, and
unlike the soldiers of that nation, he was as timid as a hare.
Lorentz, however, as well as his native language, spoke passable
French and fluent German and Russian, and for this reason he was most
valuable to me in my travelling and campaigning in the north. I was nearing the Rhenish provinces, when on leaving Kaiserslauten at night, the postilion tipped my barouche into a pothole, where it was damaged. No one was hurt, but both M. Durbach and I agreed that this was a bad omen for soldiers who were about to face the enemy. However, after spending a day waiting for repairs to be made, we were able to get under way once more. Unfortunately the accident had so weakened the springs and the wheels that they broke six times during our journey, which delayed us considerably, and on occasions forced us to walk for several leagues in the snow. We arrived at last at the shores of the Baltic sea, where the 23rd Chasseurs were in garrison at Stralsund and Greifswald.

I found Colonel de La Nougarède to be an excellent officer,
well-informed and capable, but so prematurely aged by gout that he
was hardly able to sit on a horse, and went everywhere in a carriage,
a most unsuitable method of transport for the commander of a regiment
of light cavalry! He gave me an enthusiastic welcome, and after
explaining the reasons which, in the interest of his career, made him
stay with the regiment, he showed me a letter in which the Comte de
Lobau informed him of the motives which had led the Emperor to attach
me to him. M. de La Nougarède, far from being offended, saw this as
another kindness on the part of the Emperor, and looked forward to
being promoted to general or heading the gendarmerie. He counted,
with my help, on completing at least part of the campaign, and on the
realisation of his hopes at the first imperial revue. To make it
clear that I shared the command, which was not in keeping with my
rank as Major, he called together all the officers, in front of whom
he provisionally delegated all his powers to me, until such time as
he recovered his health, and instructed them to obey my orders
without referring to him, since his illness often made it impossible
for him to follow the regiment sufficiently closely to command it in
person. An order of the day was issued along these lines, and from
that day forward, except for the rank,I was virtually the commander
of the regiment, and the regiment soon got into the habit of looking
on me as their real leader.

Since that time, I have commanded several cavalry regiments,
either as colonel or general. And I was for a long time inspector of
this branch of the service; I can say with certainty that if I have
seen units as good as the 23rd Chasseurs, I have never seen one
better. It was not that the unit contained any outstanding
personalities, such as I have seen sometimes in other regiments, but
if there was not in the 23rd any one of remarkable talents, there was
no one who did not maintain a high standard in carrying out his
duties. There were no peaks, but there were no troughs; everyone kept
in step. The officers were intelligent, well trained and well
behaved. They lived together as true brothers-in-arms. The same
applied to the N.C.O.s. And the troopers followed this good example. 
They were almost all old soldiers, veterans of Austerlitz, Jena,
Friedland, Wagram, a fine body of men who came mostly from Normandy,
Alsace, Lorraine and Franche-comte, provinces known for their martial
spirit and their love of horses. The build and strength of these men
was noticed by General Bourcier, who was in charge of remounts, and
he supplied the regiment with horses which were bigger and more
lively than the usual issue. A period of several years spent in the
fertile land of Germany, had left both men and horses in splendid
condition, and the regiment, when I took over, consisted of a
thousand officers and men, well disciplined, calm and quiet in the
face of the enemy.

I did not yet have a horse, so I went to Stralsund in the isle of
Rugen, where they have excellent horses, and I bought several; I got
some others from Rostock and ended with a stable of seven good
beasts, which was not too many, as war with Russia appeared imminent.
I had already forecast this during the summer of 1811, when I saw
the great number of old soldiers whom the Emperor was taking from the
regiments in the peninsula to reinforce his Old Guard. I had been
confirmed in this opinion during my stay in Paris. There were, at
first, some distant rumours of a rupture, which vanished quickly amid
the entertainments and festivities of winter, but soon returned with
increased insistence; and became almost certainties as a result of a
serious event, the echoes of which reverberated throughout Europe.

The Emperor Alexander had had, since boyhood, a companion who was a
young Russian nobleman, named Czernicheff, of whom he was very fond,
and whom, when he came to the throne, he took as aide-de-camp.

In 1809, when Alexander, who was then an ally of Napoleon, was
pretending, without actually doing so, to make war against Austria,
whose country Napoleon had invaded, there arrived in Vienna Colonel
the Comte de Czernicheff, on the ostensible mission to cement good
relations between Napoleon and Alexander, but in reality to inform
his sovereign of our success or failure, so that he could continue or
break off his alliance with France according to circumstances.

Alexander's favourite received the friendliest of welcomes from
Napoleon, whose side he never left during the parades and manoeuvres
which preceded the battle of Essling, but when this bloody affair
appeared to be in the balance, and a hail of bullets descended on the
imperial general staff, M. de Czernicheff turned tail rapidly, and
crossing the bridges over the Danube, he sought the safety of the
palace of Schoenbrunn; and the day after the battle he took to the
road for Petersburg, to announce, no doubt, the failure of our
enterprise. Napoleon thought this behaviour most unbecoming, and made
some jeering comments on the "bravery" of the Russian colonel. 
Nevertheless, after peace had been made with Austria, M. de
Czernicheff came very often to Paris, where he spent part of the
years 1810 and 1811. Handsome, courteous, likeable, highly deceitful
and exquisitely polite, his title of aide-de-camp to the Russian
emperor gave him entry not only to the court but also to the salons
of high society, where he never discussed politics, and appeared to
be interested only in the pursuit of women, where he was said to have
considerable success. But toward the end of 1811, when new rumours
of war began to circulate, the Paris police were informed that while
appearing to be solely interested in pleasure, the Russian colonel
was mixed up in some dubious political schemes, and he was put under
close surveillance, when it was discovered that he had frequent
meetings with M. X..., an employee of the ministry for war who had
special responsibility for the situation reports concerning all the
personel and material of the army, which were given to Napoleon every
ten days. Not only had M. de Czernicheff been seen walking after
midnight in the most secluded part of the Champs-Elysees with this
man, but he had been observed, plainly dressed, slipping into the
place where M. X... lived and spending several hours there.

The intimacy of someone so highly placed with a poor devil of
clerk in the ministry for war being clear evidence that the former
had seduced the latter to betray state secrets, the Emperor, highly
indignant, ordered the arrest of M.Czernicheff, but Czernicheff,
warned, it is said, by a woman, fled from Paris, and reached a nearby
"relais" from where, taking unfrequented roads, he managed to reach
the frontier, avoiding Maintz and Cologne to where the telegraph had
transmitted the order for his seizure. As for the wretched clerk, he
was apprehended at the moment when he was counting out the 300,000
francs which he had received for his act of treason. Compelled by
the evidence to admit to his crime, he stated that another employee
had also given information to the Russian, this man too was arrested,
and the two of them were tried, convicted and shot. They died
cursing Czernicheff, who they claimed had come to their attics to
tempt them with a heap of gold which he increased whenever they
hesitated. The Emperor had published in all the French newspapers a
virulent denunciation of M. de Czernicheff, with some wounding
observations which, although indirect, pointed to the emperor of
Russia himself, for they recalled that the assassins of his father,
Paul I, had not been punished by Alexander.

After these events, it was no longer possible to doubt that war
was imminent, and although it had not been declared, both sides were
openly preparing for it. The conduct of M. de Czernicheff was, in
general, loudly denounced, but it had its secret supporters among the
diplomatic community, who recalled that although Napoleon justly
punished French citizens who sold their country's secrets to its
enemies, he was not above corrupting foreign nationals who could give
him useful information, particularly of a military nature.

Marshal Lannes told me,that in Vienna,in 1809, when hostilities
were about to break out between France and Austria, whose armies were
to be commanded by the Archduke Charles, this prince was warned
anonymously that a Major-general for whom he had a high regard and
whom he was about to take on to his staff, had been bought by the
French ambassador, General Andreossi, with whom he had frequent
night-time meetings in a lonely house in the vast suburb of
Leopoldstadt, the number of which was disclosed. Prince Charles
thought so highly of this officer that he dismissed as an infamous
calumny the anonymous accusation, and took no measures to determine
the truth. The French ambassador had already asked for his passport
and was due to leave Vienna in forty-eight hours time, when a second
anonymous note informed the archduke that his assistant
chief-of-staff, after working alone in his office, which contained
the order of battle for the army, was going to have, on the following
night, a last meeting with General Andreossi. The archduke, who wished
to clear his mind of any suspicions which he might have, in spite of
himself, about an officer of whom he was fond, decided that he would
prove beyond doubt that he was innocent. So, dressed very simply
and accompanied by only one aide-de-camp, he waited, after midnight,
in the darkest part of the lane where the house in question was
situated. After a short time the prince and his aide saw, with
sadness, a man who in spite of his disguise was easily recognised as
the assistant chief-of-staff, for whom, after an agreed signal, the
door was opened. Soon he was followed by General Andreossi, who was
admitted in the same way. The meeting lasted for some hours, during
which the archduke, no longer able to doubt the treachery of his
assistant chief-of-staff, waited patiently outside the house, and
when the door opened for General Andreossi and the Austrian general,
who, came out together, they found themselves face to face with Prince
Charles, who said aloud, "Good evening, Mr.Ambassador", and refraining
from speaking to the assistant chief-of-staff, he shone the light
from a lantern in his face.

The ambassador hurried away without saying a word, and as for the
assistant chief-of-staff, seeing that he was caught in the act and
knowing the fate which awaited him, he went to his house and blew his
brains out with a pistol shot. This tragic event was hushed up by
the Austrian government and not many people knew about it; it was
announced that the assistant chief-of-staff had died of apoplexy. 
The French ambassador was said to have paid him two million.

While Napoleon was complaining bitterly about the means by which
Colonel Czernicheff obtained information about our armies, General
Lauriston, our ambassador in Petersburg, bought not only the most
detailed information about the disposition of the Russian forces, but
also the copper plates on which were engraved the immense map of the
Muscovite empire. In spite of the great difficulties presented by
the transport of this heavy mass of metal, the betrayal was so well
organised and so lavishly paid for that these plates, stolen from the
Russian archives, were taken from St. Petersburg to France without
their disappearance being discovered by the police or the Russian
customs. When the plates arrived in Paris the minister for war, when
all the writing had been changed from Russian characters into French,
had this fine map printed, and Napoleon ordered a copy to be sent to
all the generals and commanders of light cavalry regiments. It was in
this latter rank that I received one, which I contrived, with much
difficulty to save during the retreat, for it forms a very big roll. 
Few people brought theirs back, but I still have mine.

Chap. 4.

The principal reason which led the Emperor to declare war on
Russia was his desire to see the implementation of the treaty of
Tilsit, whereby the Emperor Alexander agreed to close all the ports
of his country to English traders, an undertaking which had never
been properly carried out. Napoleon thought, rightly, that he could
ruin the English, a manufacturing and trading nation, by preventing
their commerce with the European continent; but the execution of this
gigantic project offered so much difficulty, that it was only in
France that the restrictions were enforced, and there the use of
licences, to which I have referred above, made an enormous breach in
the regulations. As for Italy, Germany and the Adriatic provinces,
although the continental system was established by imperial decree,
it was only implemented in theory, partly because of the extent of
the coastline, and partly because of connivance and lack of
surveillance by those responsible for the administration of these
vast areas. So the Russian Emperor replied to the demands made by
France by pointing to the state of affairs which was almost universal
in Europe. The true cause, however, of the refusal of Alexander to
accede to the demands of Napoleon, was that he feared that he would
be assassinated in the same manner as his father, the Emperor Paul,
who was accused firstly of having sullied the nation's reputation by
allying himself to France and secondly of having destroyed Russian
trade by declaring war on Britain. Alexander was aware that he had
already given offence by the deference and friendliness which he had
shown towards Napoleon at Tilsit and Erfurt, and he was anxious not
to arouse more anger by cutting off all trade with England, the sole
outlet whereby the Russian nobility could dispose of the products of
their vast estates, and acquire a monetary income. The death of the
Emperor Paul clearly showed the danger faced by Alexander, if he
followed his father's example. An additional cause of fear was the
fact that he was surrounded by the same officers who had surrounded
his father, amongst whom was his chief-of-staff, Benningsen.

Napoleon did not take sufficiently into consideration these
difficulties, when he threatened Alexander with war, unless he fell
in with his wishes; although, when he learned of the losses and
reverses suffered in Spain and Portugal, he seemed hesitant to engage
in a conflict the outcome of which he deemed uncertain.

According to General Bertrand, Napoleon, on St. Helena said
repeatedly that his only intention, to begin with, was to frighten
Alexander into carrying out the terms of the treaty: "We were," he
said, "like two opponents of equal ability, who are well able to
fight, but being reluctant to do so, menace each other by threats and
sabre-rattling, edging slowly forward, each hoping that his adversary
will retreat rather than do battle." But the Emperor's comparison was
not exact, for one of these swordsmen had behind him a bottomless
pit, ready to engulf him at the first backward step, so that having
to choose between an ignominious death and a combat in which he might
be successful he had to choose the latter. This was the situation in
which Alexander found himself, a situation made worse by the
influence exerted by the Englishman Wilson on General Benningsen and
the officers of his staff. The Emperor Napoleon was still hesitant
and seemed anxious to consult the sage opinions of Caulincourt, his
former ambassador at St. Petersburg and those of a group of French
officers who had lived for some time in Russia.

Among the latter was Lieutenant-colonel de Ponthon, who had been
among a number of engineer officers who, after the Treaty of Tilsit
had been posted, at the request of Alexander, to Russia, where they
had spent several years. De Ponthon was a highly competent, but
withal a very modest officer, he was attached to the topographic
service, and did not think it was his place to offer his advice
unasked, on the problems which would face an army at war in the
Russian empire; but when he was questioned by the Emperor he felt it
was his duty to tell the whole truth to the head of state, even at
risk of displeasing him, so he described all the obstacles which
would face this enterprise. The principal ones were the apathy and
lack of co-operation between the Lithuanian states, subject for many
years to Russia; the fanatical resistance to be expected from the
people of Moscow; the scarcity of food and forage; the almost
uninhabited areas which would have to be crossed; roads impassable
for artillery after several hours of rain; but above all he stressed
the rigour of the winter and the physical impossibility of conducting
a war once the snow had begun to fall, which might be as early as the
first days of October. Finally, at risk of giving offence and
jeopardising his career, he begged Napoleon, for the sake of France
and his own reputation, not to undertake this dangerous expedition,
the calamitous outcome of which he now predicted. Having listened
quietly to M. de Ponthon, the Emperor dismissed him without making any
comment. For some days he appeared withdrawn and contemplative, and
the rumour spread that the undertaking was off, but then M. Maret, duc
de Bassano, persuaded him to go back to his original intention, and
assured him that Marshal Davout would be happy to move his large army
of Germany to the banks of the Nieman, on the frontier of the Russian
empire, in order to galvanise Alexander into action.

From this time on, although M. de Ponthon was in constant attendance
as a member of the cabinet, the Emperor did not address a word to him
during the advance from the Nieman to Moscow, and when, during the
retreat, Napoleon was forced to admit to himself that the predictions
of this admirable officer had been only too accurate, he avoided
catching his eye. Nevertheless, he promoted him to the rank of
colonel.

To return to the preparations which Napoleon was making to force
the Russians, by hook or by crook, to comply with his wishes: from
the month of April, the French troops stationed in Germany, as well
as those of various princes of the Germanic confederation allied to
France, were put into motion, and their march towards Poland was
delayed only by the difficulty of finding forage for their numerous
horses; the grass, and even the corn, being scarcely out of the ground
at this time in these northern countries. However, the Emperor left
Paris on the 9th of May, and accompanied by the Empress, went to
Dresden, where, awaiting him, were his father-in-law the Emperor of
Austria, and almost all the German princes; attracted there, in some
cases by the hope of having their domains extended, and in others by
the fear of displeasing the arbiter of their destiny. The only
absentee was the King of Prussia, who, not being included in the
confederation of the Rhine, was not invited to this reunion and dared
not turn up without the permission of Napoleon. He humbly requested
this, and when it was obtained he hurried to Dresden to pay court to
the all-powerful conqueror of Europe.

The protestations of fidelity and devotion which were lavished on
Napoleon misled him into making a most serious error in the
organisation of the contingents which were to make up the great army
destined for the war against Russia. Instead of weakening the
governments of Austria and Prussia, his former enemies, by demanding
from them the greater part of their available troops, which, prudence
would suggest should be placed in the van, not only to spare French
lives, but to allow a watch to be kept on these new and undependable
allies, Napoleon required no more than 30,000 men from each of these
powers, and placed them on the two wings of his force. The Austrians
under Prince Schwartzenberg on the right in Volhynie, and the
Prussians, to whom he appointed as commander the French Marshal
Macdonald, on the left, near the mouth of the Nieman. The centre was
composed of French troops and those members of the German federation
whose loyalty had been proved at Jena and Wagram.

There were discerning observers who were dismayed to see the wings
of the army made up of foreigners, who, in the event of a reverse,
could form two hostile armies in our rear, while the centre was
embroiled in the heart of Russia. Not only that, Austria who had an
army of 200,000, placed only 30,000 at the disposal of Napoleon, and
had 170,000 left with which to attack us in the event of failure,
while Prussia, though less powerful, still had 60,000 men in reserve.

One is astonished that the Emperor was so little concerned about
what he was leaving behind him; but his confidence was so great that
when the King of Prussia requested him to allow his eldest son to
join in the campaign as an imperial aide-de-camp, Napoleon turned him
down, although the young prince would have been a valuable hostage to
ensure the fidelity of his father.

While there was a succession of entertainments at Dresden,
Napoleon's troops were wending their way through northern Germany. 
Already the army of Italy, having crossed the mountains of the Tyrol,
was heading for Warsaw. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd Corps commanded by
Davout, Oudinot and Ney, were passing through Prussia on their march
to the Vistula. The states comprising the confederation of the Rhine
had supplied their contingents, as had Austria and Prussia; it was
noticeable, however that although the Austrian generals were happy to
unite their flags with ours, the junior officers and the soldiers
were reluctant to attack Russia, while the situation was reversed in
the Prussian army, where the generals and Colonels felt humiliated by
being compelled to serve under the command of their conqueror, while
officers of lower rank and the soldiers, were pleased to have the
opportunity of fighting alongside the French, and hoped to show that
if they were defeated at Jena, it was not through any lack of courage
on their part, but due to poor leadership by their superiors.

Napoleon had not only taken into the "Grande Armée" the troops of
Austria and Prussia, but he had lowered the morale of the French
forces by intermingling them with foreign contingents, so that the
various Corps commanded by his marshals contained bodies of men from
every part of Europe, Italians, Poles, Spaniards, Portuguese, Germans
and Croatians. This admixture of races with different languages,
cultures and interests, worked very poorly, and often hindered the
efforts of the French troops. It was one of the principal causes of
the reversals which we suffered.

Chap. 5.

Having left Dresden on the 29th of May, the Emperor made his way
towards Poland via Danzig and the old Prussia, through which his
troops were passing, whom he reviewed whenever he encountered them.

The army was now organised so that the 23rd mounted Chasseurs were
brigaded with the 24th. This brigade was commanded by General Castex
and formed part of the 2nd Army Corps, commanded by Marshal Oudinet. 
I had known General Castex for a long time, an excellent officer, who
treated me very well throughout the campaign. Marshal Oudinet had
seen me at the siege of Genoa when I was with my father and also in
Austria when I was aide-de-camp to Marshal Lannes, and was well
disposed towards me.

On the 20th June, 2nd Corps was given the order to stop at
Insterberg in order to be reviewed by the Emperor. These military
ceremonies were awaited with impatience by those people who hoped to
benefit from the awards distributed on the occasion by Napoleon. I
was among this number. I felt sure that I would be promoted to the
command of the regiment of which I was the acting commander, for
apart from the promises given me by the Emperor, General Castex and
Marshal Oudinet had told me that they intended to propose me
officially, and that Colonel Nougarède was to be placed, as general,
in command of one of the huge remount depots, which would have to be
set up in the rear of the army; but the bad luck which had, a few
months earlier delayed my promotion to major, also held up my
promotion to colonel.

At these reviews, the commanders of regiments were subjected to a
rigourous cross-examination by the Emperor, particularly on the eve
of a campaign; for apart from the usual questions about their
strength in men and horses, their arms etc., he would suddenly ask a
number which were unforeseen and not always easy to answer. For
example: "How many men from such and such a department have you
received in the last two years? How many of your carbines come from
Tulle and how many from Charleville? How many of your horses are from
Normandy, from Brittany, from Germany? What is the average age of
your men, your officers, your horses? How many men in this company
have long-service chevrons? etc...etc."

These questions, which were always posed in an abrupt and demanding
manner, and accompanied by a piercing look, disconcerted many
colonels; but woe to him who hesitated to reply, he went into
Napoleon's bad books. I was so well briefed that I was able to reply
to all his questions, and, after complementing me on the fine turnout
of the regiment, it looked as if the Emperor was going to promote me
to colonel and M. de La Nougarède to general, when the latter, who with
his limbs wrapped in flannel, had been hoisted onto horseback to
follow from afar the movements of his regiment, which I commanded,
hearing himself called for, came to Napoleon and unwisely angered
him by making a request on behalf of an officer, a member of his
family who was wholly undeserving. This roused a storm of which I
suffered the consequences. The Emperor flew into a rage and ordered
the Gendarmerie to clear the officer in question out of the army, and
leaving M. de La Nougarède in dismay, he went off at the gallop. So
M. de La Nougarède was not made a general.

Marshal Oudinot followed the Emperor to find out what was to happen
to the 23rd, and was told "Major Marbot will continue to command
them." Before reaching the rank of colonel I was destined to suffer
yet another serious wound.

In fairness to M. de La Nougarède, I have to say that he expressed
the liveliest remorse at having been the involuntary cause of the
delay in my advancement. I was sorry for the difficult position in
which this worthy man found himself, for he felt that he had
forfeited the Emperor's confidence, and owing to his disability he
had little hope of restoring himself by his conduct in the battles
which were about to take place.

I was comforted by the fact that the Emperor, on the day of the
review, had awarded all the promotions and the decorations which I
had requested for the officers and other ranks of the 23rd, and as
the gratitude for these favours is always directed to the commanding
officer who has obtained them, the influence which I was beginning to
have in the regiment was greatly increased and went some way to calm
my regrets at not having been awarded substantive rank for the
position which I occupied.

At about this time, I received a letter from Marshal Masséna and
another from his wife, the first recommending a M. Renique, and the
second her son, Prosper. I was touched by this double approach and I
responded by accepting the two captains into my regiment. However,
Madame Masséna did not carry out her intention, and Prosper Masséna
did not go to Russia. In any case he would not have been able to
stand the harsh climate.

The army was soon to reach the frontier of the Russian empire, and
see once more the river Nieman, where we had stopped in 1807. The
Emperor positioned his troops on the left bank of this river as
follows: on the extreme right was the Austrian Corps of Prince
Schwartzenberg, on the border of Galicia near Drogitchin. On
Schwartzenberg's left was King Jérôme with two considerable army
corps, between Bialystok and Grodno. Next to them was Prince Eugène
de Beauharnais, with 80,000 men, at Prenn. The Emperor was in the
centre, facing Kovno, with 220,000 men commanded by Murat, Oudinot,
Ney, Lefebvre and Bessières. The Guard formed part of this immense
body of troops. Finally, at Tilsit, Marshal Macdonald with 35,000
Prussians formed the left wing. Across the Nieman was the Russian
army of about 400,000 men, commanded by the Emperor Alexander , or
rather by Benningsen, his chief-of-staff. This force was divided into
three parts, commanded by Generals Bagration, Barclay de Tolly and
Wittgenstein.

Four historians have written about the campaign of 1812. The first
of these was Labaume, a topographer, that is to say, belonging to a
Corps which although part of the armed forces never engaged in
combat, and followed the army only to make maps. Labaume had never
commanded troops and knew nothing of the practical side of war, so
his judgements are almost always ill-founded, and do an injustice to
the French army. However the work having appeared shortly after the
peace of 1814 and the re-establishment of Louis XVIII, partisan
spirit and the desire for information about the terrible events of
the Russian campaign gave it so much credence that no one tried to
refute it, and the public came to accept its contents as the
veritable truth.

The second book to be published was written by Colonel Boutourlin,
an aide-de-camp to the Emperor Alexander. This, although expressing
the Russian point of view, contained some worthwhile observations, and
if there are some inaccuracies, it is because he did not have access
to certain documents, for he is impartial and has done all he could
to discover the truth. The work is generally esteemed as that of an
honest man.

Labaume's book had already been forgotten when in 1825, following
Napoleon's death, General de Ségur published a third story of the
Russian campaign. The contents of this book distressed more than one
survivor of the campaign, and even the Russians stigmatised it as a
war novel. In spite of this, M. de Ségur enjoyed a great success,
partly because of the purity and elegance of his style and partly
because of the welcome the book was given by the court and the
ultra-royalist party. The former officers of the imperial army,
finding themselves under attack, appointed General Gourgaud to reply.
He did so effectively, but with so much acerbity that it gave rise
to a duel between him and M. de Ségur, in which M. de Ségur was
wounded. One has to agree that if the latter was less than
charitable towards Napoleon and his army, General Gourgaud accorded
the Emperor too much praise and refused to recognise any of his
faults.

I have no intention of writing another history of the campaign of
1812, but I think I should relate the principal events, since they
form an essential part of my life and times and several of them have
a bearing on what happened to me; but in this brief resumé I shall
try to avoid the extremes embraced by Ségur and Gourgaud. I shall
neither denigrate nor flatter, I shall be truthful.

At a time when the two powerful European empires were about to come
to blows, England, a natural ally of Russia, had a duty to make every
effort to help her to repel the invasion projected by Napoleon. By
disbursing money to the Turkish ministers, the English cabinet was
able to arrange a peace between the Sultan and Russia, which allowed
the latter to recall the army which was on the frontier of Turkey, an
army which played a highly important rôle in the war. The English
had also contrived a peace between the Emperor Alexander and Sweden,
an ally of France, on whose goodwill Napoleon counted, the more so
because Bernadotte had just been nominated as the heir apparent, and
governed the country for the King, his adoptive father.

I have already explained how, through a bizarre sequence of events,
Bernadotte was raised to the rank of heir presumptive to the crown of
Sweden. The new Swedish prince, after announcing that he would
always remain French at heart, allowed himself to be seduced or
intimidated by the English, who could have easily overthrown him. He
sacrificed the true interests of his adoptive country by submitting
to the domination of England and allying himself with Russia in an
interview with the Emperor Alexander. This meeting took place in
Abo, a little town in Finland. The Russians had recently seized this
province and they promised to compensate Sweden by the gift of
Norway, which they intended to take from Denmark, which was a faithful
ally of France. So Bernadotte, far from relying on our army to
restore to him his provinces, accepted these Russian encroachments by
ranging himself with her allies.

If Bernadotte had been willing to support us, the geographical
position of Sweden could have been of great assistance to our common
cause. The new prince did not, however, openly state his position,
as he wanted to see who was going to be the victor, and he did not
declare himself until the following year. Deprived of the aid of
Turkey and Sweden, on whom he had relied to keep the Russian army
occupied, Napoleon's only possible allies in the north were the
Poles, but these turbulent people, whose forefathers had been unable
to agree when they were an independent state, offered neither moral
nor physical support.

In fact, Lithuania and the other provinces which formed more than a
third of the former Poland, having been in Russian hands for almost
forty years, had mostly forgotten their ancient constitution and had
for a long time thought of themselves as Russian. The nobility sent
their sons to join the army of the Czar, to whom they were too much
attached by long custom to permit any hope that they would join the
French. The same considerations applied to other Poles who in
various divisions of their country had found themselves under the
rule of Austria or Prussia. They were willing to march against
Russia, but it was under the flags and under the command of their new
sovereigns. They had neither love nor enthusiasm for the Emperor
Napoleon, and feared to see their country devastated by war. The
grand duchy of Warsaw, ceded in 1807 to the King of Saxony under the
Treaty of Tilsit, was the only province of the ancient Poland which
retained a spark of national spirit and was somewhat attached to
France, but what was the use of this little state to the Grande Armée
of Napoleon?

Napoleon, however, full of confidence in his army and in his own
ability, decided to cross the Nieman, and so on the 23rd of June,
accompanied by General Haxo and dressed in the uniform of a Polish
soldier of his guard, he rode along its bank, and that same evening
at ten o'clock, set in motion the crossing of the river by the
pontoon bridges, the most important of which had been laid across the
river opposite the little Russian town of Kovno, which our troops
occupied without encountering any resistance.

Chap. 6.

At sunrise on the 24th we witnessed a most impressive spectacle. 
On the highest part of the left bank were the Emperor's tents. 
Around them, on the slopes of the hills and in the valleys, glittered
the arms of a great concourse of men and horses. This mass,
consisting of 250,000 soldiers split into three huge columns,
streamed in perfect order towards the three bridges which had been
thrown across the river, over which the different corps crossed to
the right bank in a prearranged manner. On this same day the Nieman
was crossed by our troops at other points, near Grodno, Pilony and
Tilsit. I have seen a situation report, covered by notes written in
Napoleon's hand, which gives the official strength of the force which
crossed the Nieman as 325,000 men, of whom 155,400 were French and
170,000 allies, accompanied by 940 guns.

The regiment which I commanded formed part of 2nd Corps, commanded
by Marshal Oudinot, which having crossed the bridge at Kovno headed
immediately for Ianovo. The heat was overpowering. This, close to
nightfall, led to a tremendous storm, and torrential rain, which
drenched the roads and the countryside for more than fifty leagues
around. Happily the army did not see this as a bad omen, as the
soldiers considered violent thunderstorms were something to be
expected in summer. The Russians too, every bit as superstitious as
some of the French, had an unpropitious omen, for during the night of
23rd-24th of June the Emperor Alexander escaped with his life when,
at a ball in Wilna, the floor of a room collapsed under the chair on
which he was sitting, at the very hour when the first French boat,
carrying a detachment of Napoleon's troops, reached the right bank of
the Nieman and Russian soil. Be that as it may, the storm had made
the air much cooler and the horses in bivouac suffered from this and
also from eating wet grass and lying on muddy ground. So that the
army lost several thousand from acute colic.

Beyond Kovnow there runs a little river called the Vilia, the
bridge over which had been cut by the Russians. The storm had so
swollen this tributary of the Nieman that Oudinot's scouts were held
up. The Emperor arrived at the same moment as I did at the head of
my regiment. He ordered the Polish lancers to see if the river was
fordable, and in this process, one man was drowned; I took his name,
it was Tzcinski. I mention this because the losses suffered by the
Polish lancers in the crossing of the Vilia have been grossly
exaggerated.

The Russians, however, retreated without waiting for the French
army, which shortly occupied Wilna, the capital of Lithuania. It was
near here that there took place a cavalry encounter in which Octave
de Ségur, who had been with me on Masséna's staff, was captured by
the Russians while leading a squadron of the 8th Hussars which he
commanded, he was the elder brother of General the Comte de Ségur.
On the same day that the Emperor entered Wilna, Marshal Oudinot's
troops came up against Wittgenstein's Russians at Wilkomir, where the
first serious engagement of the campaign took place. I had not
previously served under Oudinot, and this début confirmed the high
opinion I had of his courage, without convincing me of his
intelligence.

One of the greatest faults of the French at war is to go, without
reason, from the most meticulous caution to limitless confidence. 
Now, since the Russians had allowed us to cross the Nieman, invade
Lithuania and occupy Wilna without opposition, it had become the done
thing, amongst certain officers to say that the enemy would always
retreat and would never stand and fight. Oudinot's staff and the
marshal himself frequently stated this, and treated as fairy tales
the information given by the peasants that there was a large body of
Russian troops positioned in front of the little town of Wilkomir. 
This incredulity nearly resulted in disaster, as you will see.

The light cavalry, being the eyes of the army, while on the march
is always in front and on the flanks. My regiment, then, was less
than a league ahead of the infantry, when, having gone a little way
beyond Wilkomir without seeing any sign of the enemy, we were
confronted by a forest of huge pine trees, through which the mounted
men could move with ease but whose branches obscured the distant
view. Fearing an ambush, I sent a single squadron, commanded by a
very capable captain, to investigate. In about 15 minutes he came
back and reported that he had seen an enemy army. I went to the edge
of the forest from where I could see, at about a cannon shot from
Wilkomir, behind a stream, a hill on which drawn up in battle order
were 25 to 30 thousand Russian infantry, with cavalry and artillery.

You may be surprised that these troops did not have in front of
them any outposts or pickets or scouts, but that is how the Russians
operate when they are determined to defend a strong position. They
allow the enemy to approach without any warning of the resistance
they are about to meet, and it is only when the main body of their
opponents comes within range that they open a ferocious fire with
musketry and cannon, which can shatter the columns of their
adversaries. It is a method which has often produced good results
for the Russians; so General Wittgenstein had prepared this welcome
for us.

The situation seemed to me to be so serious that to keep my
regiment out of sight, I ordered them to go back into the forest
while I myself hurried to warn Marshal Oudinot of the danger which
lay ahead.

I found him in some open country, where having dismounted and halted
his troops, he was peacefully eating his lunch in the midst of his
staff. I expected that my report would shake him out of this false
security, but he treated it with an air of disbelief, and clapping me
on the shoulder he called out "Let's go! Marbot here has discovered
thirty thousand men for us to thump." General Lorencez, the marshal's
son-in-law and his chief-of-staff was the only one to take me
seriously; he had once been aide-de-camp to Augereau and he had known
me for a long time. He came to my defence saying that when the
commander of a unit says "I have seen" he should be believed, and
that to take no notice of information brought by an officer of the
light cavalry was to court disaster. These observations made by his
chief-of-staff caused the marshal to think, and he had started to
question me about the enemy presence, which he still seemed to doubt,
when a staff-captain by the name of Duplessis arrived, all out of
breath, and announced that he had searched the whole area and had
even been into the forest, and had seen not a single Russian. At
this the marshal and his staff began laughing at my fears, which
greatly upset me. Nevertheless, I kept my mouth shut, certain that
before very long, the truth would become apparent.

Luncheon being over, the march got under way once more and I
returned to my regiment, which formed the advance-guard. I led them
through the trees as I had done previously, for I could see what was
going to happen the moment we emerged opposite the enemy positions. 
In spite of what I had told him, the marshal decided to go down a
wide, dead straight road which ran through the forest; but he had
scarcely reached the edge of the trees when the enemy, seeing the
large group formed by his staff, opened a running fire from their
cannons, which placed opposite the road could fire directly along it
and threw into disorder the gilded squadron, recently so full of
themselves. Fortunately no one was hit by this fire, but the
marshal's horse was killed, as was that of M. Duplessis and a number of
others. I had been amply avenged, and I must confess, to my shame,
that I had difficulty in hiding my satisfaction at seeing those who
had scoffed at my report and treated as fantasy what I had said about
the enemy presence, taking to their heels under a hail of shot and
scrambling over ditches as best they could to seek shelter behind the
great pine trees! The worthy General Lorencez, whom I had warned to
stay in the forest, laughed heartily at this scene. In fairness to
Oudinot, I must say that once remounted, he came and apologised for
for his behaviour at luncheon, and asked me to brief him on the
Russian positions, and point out a route through the forest which the
infantry might take without being too much exposed to the enemy's
guns.

Several officers of the 23rd who, like me, had been through the
woodland in the morning, were detailed to guide the infantry
divisions. Nevertheless, on their emerging from the trees they were
subjected to a terrible cannonade, which could have been avoided if,
having been warned of the Russian presence, there had been an attempt
to turn one of their flanks, instead of making a frontal approach. 
As it was, we were now committed, once we emerged from the wood, to
attacking the most heavily defended point and taking the bull by the
horns.

However, our gallant soldiers engaged the enemy with such
determination that they drove them from all their positions, and
after two hours of fighting they began to retreat. This operation
was not without danger, for, to carry it out, they had to go through
the town and cross the bridge over a very steep-sided stream. This
manoeuvre, always difficult to execute under fire, started off in an
orderly fashion, but our light artillery, having taken up a position
on a height which overlooked the town, soon, by means of its gunfire,
produced disorder among the enemy columns, which broke ranks and
rushed to the bridge. Once they had crossed the stream, instead of
regrouping they fled helter-skelter over the open ground of the
opposite bank, where the retreat soon became a rout! Only one
regiment, that of Toula, stood its ground on the town side of the
bridge. Marshal Oudinot very much wanted to force a passage across
the bridge, to complete his victory by pursuing the fugitives on the
other side of the stream; but our infantry had hardly reached the
suburbs; it would take them at least 15 minutes to reach the bridge,
and time was precious.

My regiment, which had made a successful charge at the entrance to
the town, had re-formed on the promenade, a short distance from the
stream. The marshal sent word to me to bring them at the gallop and
we had hardly arrived before he ordered me to charge the enemy
battalions which were covering the bridge, then to cross the bridge
and pursue the fugitives on the open ground of the opposite side. 
Experienced soldiers know how difficult it is for cavalry to overcome
infantry, who are determined to defend themselves in the streets of a
town. I was well aware of the dangers of the task which I had been
given, but it had to be done, and without hesitation. I knew also
that it is by his conduct in his first action that a commanding
officer gains a good or a bad reputation amongst his men. My
regiment was composed of battle-hardened troopers: I raised them to
the gallop and, with me at their head, we fell on the Russian
Grenadiers, who stood firm behind their bayonets. They were,
however, overwhelmed by our first impetuous charge, and once their
ranks had been penetrated, my terrible chasseurs using the points of
their sabres inflicted a frightful slaughter. The enemy retreated to
the causeway of the bridge, where we followed them so closely that,
on reaching the other side, they were unable to re-form, and our men
got amongst them, killing all whom they could reach. When the
Russian colonel was killed, his regiment, without leadership, lost
heart, and seeing that the French skirmishers had now reached the
bridge, they surrendered. I lost seven men killed and some twenty
wounded, but captured a flag and two thousand prisoners. After this
action, we advanced onto the open ground where we took a great number
of fugitives, several guns and many horses.

Marshal Oudinot had watched this action from a vantage point in
the town, and he came to congratulate the regiment, for which he
henceforth had a particular regard, which it well merited. I was
proud to be in command of such men and when the marshal told me that
he intended to recommend me for promotion to colonel, I was afraid
that the Emperor would go back on his original plan, and post me to
the first regiment which became vacant. How strange are the twists
of fortune! The successful action at Wilkomir, where the 23rd earned
such a fine reputation, nearly led on a later occasion to its
destruction, because the courage which it had displayed at the time
resulted in its being chosen to carry out a mission which was
virtually impossible, which I shall describe shortly. Let us now
return to Wilna, where the Emperor was beginning to meet with some of
the difficulties which were to wreck his whole gigantic undertaking.

The first of these concerned the re-organisation of Lithuania, which
we had just conquered. This had to be carried out in away which
would please not only those provinces which were still occupied by
Russia, but also those of the duchies of Posen and Galicia, which
ancient treaties had incorporated into Prussia and Austria,
Napoleon's allies, whom, for the time being, it was important not to
offend.

The most committed of the noblemen who ruled the various parts of
Poland proposed to Napoleon that they would raise all the provinces
and place at his disposal more than 300,000 men on the day that he
announced officially that all the partitions to which the country had
been subjected were annulled, and that the kingdom of Poland was
reconstituted. The Emperor, although he was aware of the benefits he
would gain from such an armed uprising, could not conceal from
himself the fact that its first result would be to involve him in war
with Austria and Prussia, which, rather than see themselves deprived of
these huge and flourishing provinces, would join their arms to those
of Russia. Above all, he doubted the constancy of the Poles, who,
after dragging him into war with the three most powerful of the
northern nations, might perhaps fail to deliver their promised
support. The Emperor therefore replied to these propositions that he
would not recognise the kingdom of Poland until the inhabitants of
these huge areas had shown themselves worthy of independence by
rising against their oppressors. This now created a vicious circle,
Napoleon would not recognise the kingdom of Poland until the Poles
took action, and the Poles would not take any action until he did. 
An indication that Napoleon, in going to war with Russia, had no
intention other than to enforce the continental blockade is the fact
that he had not brought to the Nieman any arms or uniforms for the
men which the Poles might have supplied.

Be that as it may, some influential noblemen, in an attempt to
force Napoleon's hand, set up a National Diet in Warsaw, which was
attended by a small number of deputies. The first act of this
assembly was to proclaim the Reconstitution and Independence of the
Ancient Kingdom of Poland. The echo of this patriotic declaration
rang throughout all the provinces, whether Russian, Prussian or
Austrian, and for several days it was believed that there would be an
uprising which would probably favour Napoleon, but this unthinking
exaltation did not last long among the Poles, of whom only a few
hundred came to join us. The cooling off was so rapid that the town
of Wilna and its surroundings could provide no more than twenty men
to form a guard of honour for the Emperor. If the Poles had
displayed at this time a hundredth part of the energy and enthusiasm
which they displayed during the insurrection of 1830-1831, they might
have recovered their independence and their liberty, but, far from
coming to the aid of the French troops, they denied them all
necessities, and during this campaign our soldiers often had to take
by force the food and forage which the inhabitants, and above all the
nobles, hid from us but handed over to the Russians, their
persecutors. This partiality in favour of our enemies enraged our
men and gave rise to some unpleasant scenes which M. de Ségur has
stigmatised as disgraceful pillage! It is however impossible to
prevent the weary and wretched soldiers who have received no issue of
rations from commandeering the bread and the livestock which they
need for their survival.

The need to maintain order in the provinces occupied by the army
led the Emperor, in spite of everything, to appoint prefects and
sub-prefects who were chosen from the most enlightened Poles, but
their administration was illusory and no help to the French army. 
The main reason for the apathy of the Lithuanian Poles was the
self-interested attachment of the nobility to the Russian government,
which upheld their rights over their peasantry, to whom they feared
the French might award their freedom, for all those Polish noblemen
who talked unceasingly about freedom kept their peasants in the most
brutish serfdom.

Although the concentration of French troops on their frontiers
should have warned the Russians that hostilities were about to
commence, they were nonetheless taken by surprise by the crossing of
the Nieman, which they nowhere opposed. Their army began a retreat
towards the Duna (Dvina) on the left bank of which they had prepared,
at Drissa, an immense entrenched camp. From all parts the different
French Corps followed the Russian columns. Prince Murat was in
command of the cavalry of the advance-guard, and every evening he
caught up with the Russian rear-guard; but after some skirmishing
they made off during the night by forced marches, without it being
possible to bring them to a decisive action.

Chap. 7.

During the first days of our invasion of Russia, the enemy had
made the very serious mistake of allowing Napoleon to split their
forces, so that the greater part of their army, led by the
Emperor Alexander and Marshal Barclay, had been driven back to the
Duna, while the remainder, commanded by Bagration, was on the upper
Nieman around Mir, eighty leagues from the main body. Cut off in this
way, Bagration tried to join the Emperor Alexander by going through
Minsk; but Napoleon had entrusted the protection of Minsk to Marshal
Davout, who vigourously repelled the Russians and drove them back to
Bobruisk, which he knew was supposed to be guarded by Jérôme
Bonaparte, at the head of two corps, amounting to 60,000 men. 
Bagration was about to be forced to surrender when he was saved by
the foolishness of Jérôme, who had not accepted the advice which
Davout had given him, and failing to recognise the superior wisdom of
the experienced and successful marshal, had decided to go his own
way, whereupon he manoeuvred his troops so ineptly that Bagration was
able to escape from this first danger. Davout, however, followed him
with his usual tenacity, and caught up with him on the road to Mohilew, where, although he had no more than 12,000 men, he attacked the
36,000 Russians and defeated them, though admittedly the Russians
were surprised on an area of very broken ground which prevented them
from making the best use of their superior numbers. Bagration was
compelled to cross the Borysthenia much lower down at Novoi-Bychow,
and being now out of reach of Davout he was able to rejoin the main
Russian army at Smolensk.

During the marches and countermarches which Bagration undertook in
his efforts to evade Davout, he surprised the brigade of French
cavalry comannded by General Bordesoulle, and captured from him the
whole of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs, whose colonel was my friend
Saint-Mars.

The elimination of Bagration's force would have been of tremendous
benefit to Napoleon, so his fury with King Jérôme was unbounded! He
ordered him to quit the army immediately and return to Westphalia, a
rigourous but necessary measur, which had the effect of greatly
damaging King Jérôme's reputation in the army. However, one has to
ask if he was entirely to blame? His major mistake was to think that
his dignity as a sovereign should not permit him to accept the advice
of a simple marshal, but Napoleon knew perfectly well that the young
prince had never in his life commanded so much as a single battalion,
nor taken part in the most minor skirmish, and yet he confided to his
care an army of 60,000 men, and this at a somewhat critical juncture.
General Junot, who replaced Jérôme, was, before long, also guilty of
a serious blunder.

It was around this time that the Russian emperor sent one of his
ministers, Count Balachoff,to parley with Napoleon, who was still in
Wilna. The purpose of this discussion has never been entirely clear;
there were those who believed it was to arrange an armistice, but
they were quickly disabused by the departure of the Count, and it
appeared later that the English, who had a tremendous influence in
the Russian court and the army, had taken umbrage at this mission,
and fearing that Alexander might be considering coming to terms with
Napoleon, they had loudly insisted that he should leave the army and
return to St. Petersburg. Alexander accepted this proposal, but
ensured that his brother, Constantine came with him. Left to
themselves, and egged on by the Englishman Wilson, the Russian
generals sought to wage war with a ferocity which might shake the
French morale, so they ordered their troops to lay waste the country
behind them as they withdrew, by burning all the houses and
everything else which they could not carry away.

While Napoleon, from the central point of Wilna, was directing the
various units of his army, the columns led by Murat, Ney, Montbrun,
Nansouty and Oudinot had, on the 15th of July, reached the river
Dvina. Oudinot, who had probably misunderstood the Emperor's orders,
took the unusual step of going down the left bank of the river, while
Wittgenstein and his men were going up the river on the other side. 
He arrived opposite Dvinaburg, an old walled town whose
fortifications were in bad repair, where he hoped to capture the
bridge and, having crossed to the other bank, to attack Wittgenstein
from the rear. Wittgenstein, however, on leaving Dvinaburg, had left
behind a strong garrison with numerous pieces of artillery. My
regiment as usual constituted the advance-guard, which on this day
was led by Marshal Oudinot himself.

The town of Dvinaburg is on the right bank of the river. We
arrived on the left bank, where there is a considerable
fortification which protects the bridge which links it to the town,
from which it is separated by the river, which is very wide at this
point. A quarter of a league from the fortifications, which Marshal
Oudinot claimed were not equipped with cannon, I came on a Russian
battalion whose left flank was protected by the river, and whose
front was covered by the planks and hutments of an abandoned camp. 
In such a position the enemy was very difficult for cavalry to
attack; however the Marshal ordered me to attack them. After I had
left it to individual officers to make their way through the gaps
between the huts, I ordered the charge, but the regiment had hardly
gone a few paces amid a shower of bullets from the Russian infantry
when the artillery, whose existence the Marshal had denied, thundered
from the battlements, to which we were so close that the canisters
of grape-shot were going over our heads before they had time to
burst. A stray ball from one of them went through a fisherman's hut
and broke the leg of the trumpeter who was sounding the charge by my
side!...I lost several men there.

Marshal Oudinot, who had made a serious mistake in attacking a
position which was protected by cannon, hoped to flush out the
Russian infantry by sending in a Portuguese battalion which was
ahead of our infantry; but these foreigners, former prisoners of war,
who had been enlisted somewhat unwillingly into the French army,
made little headway and we remained exposed. Seeing that Oudinot bore
the enemy fire with courage but without giving any orders, I thought
that if this state of affairs continued for a few minutes more, my
regiment was going to wiped out, so I told my men to spread out and
attack the enemy infantry in open order, with the double aim of
driving them out of their position and preventing the gunners from
firing for fear of hitting their own men, who were intermingled with
ours. Cut down by my troopers, the defenders of the camp fled
towards the bridgehead, but the garrison of this outpost was composed
of recent recruits, who, fearing that we would follow the fugitives
into the fortifications, hurriedly closed the gates; which compelled
them to make for the pontoon bridge in an attempt to reach the other
bank and the shelter of the town of Dvinaburg itself.

The bridge had no guard-rail, the pontoons wobbled, the river was
deep and wide, and I could see the armed garrison on the other side
trying to close the gates! It seemed to me to be folly to advance any
further. Thinking that the regiment had done enough, I had halted
them when the Marshal arrived, shouting "Forward the twenty-third!
Do as you did at Wilkomir! Cross the bridge! Force the gates! Seize
the town!" General Lorencez tried, in vain, to persuade him that
the difficulties were too great, and that a regiment of cavalry could
not attack a fortress, however badly defended, if to get there they
had to cross, two abreast, a third-rate pontoon bridge; but the
Marshal persisted, "They will be able to take advantage of the
disorder and fears of the enemy," he said, and repeated his order to
me to attack the town. I obeyed; but I was scarcely on the first
span of the bridge, at the head of the leading section of my men,
when the garrison, having managed to close the gates which led to the
river, mounted the ramparts, from where they opened fire on us. The
slender line which we presented offered a poor target for these
inadequately trained men, so that their musket and cannon fire caused
us fewer casualties than I had feared, but on hearing the fortress
firing on us, the defenders of the bridgehead recovered their nerve
and joined in the fray. Oudinot, seeing the 23rd caught between two
fires, at the start of an unstable bridge across which it was
impossible to advance, conveyed to me the order to retreat. The
large gap which I had left between each section allowed them to turn
round without too much confusion, however, two men and their horses
fell into the river and were drowned. In order to regain the left
bank we had to pass once more under the ramparts of the bridgehead,
when we were exposed to a rolling fire which, fortunately, was aimed
by unskilled militia, for if we had been up against trained marksmen,
the regiment could have been wholly destroyed.

This unsuccessful action, so imprudently undertaken, cost me
thirty men killed and many wounded, and it was to be hoped that the
Marshal would be content with this fruitless effort, especially in
view of the fact that the Emperor had not ordered him to take
Dvinaburg; but, as soon as the infantry had arrived, he made a new
assault on the bridgehead, which had now been reinforced by a company
of Grenadiers, who, at the sound of firing had hurried from nearby
billets, so that our troops were once more repelled with much greater
losses than those suffered by the 23rd. When the Emperor heard of
this abortive attack, he placed the blame squarely on Marshal
Oudinot.

At this time, my regiment was brigaded with the 24th Chasseurs,
and General Castex, who commanded this brigade, had instituted an
admirable routine in our method of operation. Each of the two
regiments took it in turn to form, for twenty-four hours, the
advance-guard if we were approaching the enemy, or the rear-guard if
we were retreating, and to provide all the sentries, pickets and so
on, while the other regiment marched peacefully along, recovering
from the fatigues of the day before and preparing for those of the
morrow, which did not prevent it from going to the aid of the unit on
duty if they came in contact with the enemy. This system, which was
not in the regulations, had the great advantage of never separating
the men from their officers or their comrades, or placing them under
the orders of unknown commanders and mingling them with troopers of
another regiment. Moreover, during the night, half of the brigade
slept, while the other half watched over them. However, since no
system is without its shortcomings, it could so happen, by chance,
that it was the same regiment which was more often on duty when a
serious engagement occurred, as happened to the 23rd at Wilkomir and
Dvinaburg. It was the sort of luck which we had throughout the
campaign, but we never complained; we came out of all these events
well and were often envied by the 24th, who had fewer occasions on
which to distinguish themselves.

While Oudinot was making his assault on Dvinaburg, the corps
commanded by Ney, as well as the immense body of cavalry commanded by
Murat, were proceeding up the left bank of the Dvina towards Polotsk,
while Wittgenstein's Russian army followed the same route on the
right bank. Being separated from the enemy by the river, our troops
grew careless, and pitched their bivouacs in the French manner, much
too close to its bank. Wittgenstein had noticed this and he allowed
the bulk of the French force to draw ahead. The last unit in the
line of march was Sébastiani's division, which had as its rear-guard
the brigade commanded by General Saint-Geniès, who had served as an
officer in the army of Egypt, and who, although courageous, was not
very bright. When he had reached a some way beyond the little town
of Drouia, General Saint-Geniès, on the orders of Sébastiani, put his
troops into bivouac some two hundred paces from the river, which was
believed to be uncrossable without boats. Wittgenstein, however,
knew of a ford, and during the night he made use of it to send across
the river a division of cavalry, which fell on the French troops and
captured almost the entire brigade, including General Saint-Geniès. 
This forced Sébastiani to hurry upstream with the rest of his
division to make contact with the Corps commanded by Montbrun. After
this swift raid, Wittgenstein recalled his troops and continued his
march up the Dvina. The affair did Sébastiani's reputation a great
deal of harm and drew down on his head the reproaches of the Emperor.

Shortly after this regrettable incident, Oudinot having been
ordered to leave Dvinaburg and go up the river to rejoin Ney and
Montbrun, his army Corps took the same route as they had done, and
passed the town of Drouia. The Marshal intended to encamp his force
some three leagues further on, but he feared that the enemy might use
the ford to send across large parties of men to harass the great
convoy which trailed behind him, so he decided that while he made off
into the distance, with the main body of the troops, he would leave
behind a regiment of General Castex's brigade, in the position which
had been occupied by General Saint-Geniès, to watch the ford. As my
regiment was on duty, there fell to it the dangerous task of
remaining behind at Drouia, on their own, until the following
morning. I knew that the greater part of Wittgenstein's force had
gone up the river, but I could see that he had left behind, not far
from the ford, two strong regiments of cavalry, a force more than
sufficient to overcome me.

However much I might have wished to carry out the order to set up
my bivouac on the spot used two days previously by Saint-Geniès, this
was impossible, for the ground was littered with more than two
hundred bodies in a state of putrefaction, and to this major reason
was linked another not less important. What I had seen and what I
had learned about war had convinced me that the best means of
defending a river against an enemy whose aim is not to establish
himself on the bank which one occupies, is to keep the main body of
one's troops well back from the river edge; firstly to have timely
warning of the enemy's approach, and secondly, because, as it his
intention to make a sudden raid and then retire smartly, he dare not
go too far from the spot where he can cross back to the other side. 
So I settled the regiment half a league from the Dvina, on some
slightly undulating ground. I left only some two-man sentinels on
the bank, because, when it is purely a matter of observation, two men
can see as much as a large picket. Several lines of troopers were
placed one after the other between these sentinels and our bivouac,
where, like a spider at the bottom of its web, I could be rapidly
informed by these threads about what was going on in the area which
it was my duty to guard. I had forbidden all fires and even the
lighting of pipes, and had ordered complete silence.

The nights are extremely short in Russia in the month of July, but
this one seemed very long to me, so afraid was I that I might be
attacked during the hours of darkness by a force superior in
strength to my own. Half of the men were in the saddle, the remainder
were allowing their horses to graze but were ready to mount if given
the signal. All seemed quiet on the opposite bank, when my Polish
servant, who spoke Russian fluently, came to tell me that he had
heard one old Jewish woman who lived in a nearby house say to
another, "The lantern has been lit in the clock tower at Morki. The
attack is going to begin." I had the two women brought to me, and
questioned by Lorentz. They said that, as they were afraid of their
village becoming a battleground for the two enemies, they had been
alarmed to see the lamp lit in the bell tower of the church at
Morki, which, the night before last, had been the signal for the
Russian troops to cross the ford and attack the French camp.

Although I was prepared for any eventuality, this was a piece of
very useful information. At once the regiment was on horse, sabres
in their hands. The sentinels by the river and the string of
horsemen stretched across the plain passed from man to man, in low
voices, the orders to come back. Two of the boldest sous-officiers,
Prud'homme and Graft, went with Lieutenant Bertin to see what the
enemy was doing. He came back shortly to say that a large column of
Russian cavalry was crossing the ford, and that already there were
some squadrons on our side of the river; but seemingly taken aback at
not finding us camped at the same place as Saint-Geniès, they had
halted, fearing, no doubt to go too far from their only means of
retreat; then, having decided to go on, they were now approaching at
a walk, and were not far off.

I immediately set fire to a huge haystack and to several barns
which stood on some high ground, and by the light of the flames I
could easily distinguish the enemy column, consisting of Grodno
Hussars. I had with me about a thousand brave men, and with a cry of
"Vive L'Emperor!" we charged at the gallop towards the Russians who,
taken by surprise by this fierce and unexpected attack, turned tail
and rushed in disorder to the ford. There they came face to face
with a regiment of dragoons who, being part of their brigade, had
followed them and were just emerging from the river. This resulted in
the most fearful confusion which enabled our men to kill many of the
enemy and take many horses. The Russians tried to recross the ford
in a mob to escape from the fire which my men aimed at them from the
bank and a number of them were drowned. Our surprise attack had so
startled the enemy who had thought to find us asleep, that they put
up no resistance, and I was able to return to our bivouac without
having to regret the death or wounding of any of our number. The
break of day disclosed the field of battle covered by some hundreds
of dead or wounded Russians. I left the wounded in the care of the
inhabitants of the village near which we had spent the night, and
took to the road to rejoin Marshal Oudinot, with whom I caught up
that same evening. The Marshal gave me a hearty welcome and
complemented the regiment on their conduct.

2nd Corps continued its march up the left bank of the Dvina and in
three days arrived opposite Polotsk. There we learned that the
Emperor had at last left Wilna, where he had spent twenty days, and
was heading for Vitepsk, a town of some size, which he intended to
make his new centre of operations.

On quitting Wilna, the Emperor had left the Duc de Bassano as
governor of the province of Lithuania, and General Hogendorp as
military commander. Neither of these two officials was suited to
organising the rear echelons of an army. The Duc de Bassano, a
former diplomat and private secretary, knew nothing about
administration, while the Dutchman Hogendorp, who spoke little
French, and had no idea of our military regulations and customs, was
not likely to have much success with those French who passed through
Wilna or with the local nobility. So the resources available in
Lithuania were of no help to our troops.

The town of Polotsk is situated on the right bank of the Dvina. 
Its houses are built of wood and it is dominated by a very large and
splendid college, at that time occupied by the Jesuits, almost all of
whom were French. It is surrounded by an earthwork fortification,
having at one time undergone a siege during the war waged by Charles
XII against Peter the Great. The corps commanded by Ney, Murat and
Montbrun, in order to get from Drissa to Witepsk, had built a pontoon
bridge across the Dvina opposite Polotsk, which they left for Oudinot's corps, which was going to take the road for St. Petersburg. It was from here that 2nd Corps took a different direction to that of the Grande Armée, which we did not see again until the following winter, at the crossing of the Beresina.

It would require several volumes to describe the manoeuvres and
the battles of that part of the army which followed the Emperor to
Moscow. I shall therefore limit myself to describing the salient
events as they occur.

On the 25th of July, there took place near to Ostrovno an
advance-guard action, in which our infantry were successful, but
where several regiments of cavalry were too hastily engaged by Murat.
The 16th Chasseurs was amongst this number, and my brother, who
commanded a squadron, was captured. He was taken far beyond Moscow to
Sataroff, on the Volga, where he joined Colonel Saint-Mars and Octave
de Ségur. They helped each other to bear the boredom of captivity,
to which my brother was already accustomed, as he had spent several
years in the prisons and hulks of Spain. The fortunes of war treated
us both differently; Adolphe was captured three times but never
wounded, while I was often wounded but never captured.

While the Emperor, now in control of Wilna, tried in vain to
manoeuvre the Russian army into a decisive battle, Oudinot's corps,
having crossed the Dvina at Polotsk, established itself in front of
this town, facing the numerous troops of General Wittgenstein, who
formed the enemy right wing. Before I describe the events which took
place on the banks of the Dvina, I should, perhaps, acquaint you with
the composition of 2nd Corps.

Marshal Oudinot, who commanded the Corps, had under his orders no
more than 44,000 men, divided into three divisions of infantry,
commanded by Generals Legrand, Verdier and Merle. There were two
brigades of light cavalry. The first, composed of the 23rd and the
24th regiments of Chasseurs, was commanded by General Castex, an
excellent officer on all counts. The second was formed of the 7th
and 20th Chasseurs and the 8th Polish Lancers, commanded by General
Corbineau, a brave but dull-witted officer. These brigades were not
combined into a single division, but were employed wherever the
Marshal thought necessary.

The 24th Chasseurs, with which my regiment was brigaded, was a
first class unit which would have done very well if there had been a
bond of sympathy between the men and their commander. Unfortunately
Colonel A... was very hard on his subordinates who, for their part,
disliked him. This state of affairs led General Castex to travel and
camp with the 23rd, and to unite his field kitchen with mine, even
though he had once served in the 24th. Colonel A..., big, skillful
and always perfectly mounted, showed up well in engagements featuring
the "arme blanche", but was thought not to be so keen on those in
which fire-arms and artillery were involved. In spite of this, the
Emperor recognised in him qualities which made him undoubtedly the
best light cavalry officer in our European armies. No one had a
better eye for country. Before he set out, he could predict where
there would be obstacles not shown on the map, and where streams,
roads and even paths would lead to, and deduce from enemy movements
forecasts which were almost always correct. In all the aspects of
war, great or small, he was remarkably adept. The Emperor had often
used him for reconnaissance in the past and had recommended him to
Marshal Oudinot, who frequently called him into consultation; with
the result that many of the laborious and dangerous jobs fell to my
regiment.

Chap. 8.

Hardly had the various army corps which had preceded us into
Polotsk left to join the Emperor at Witepsk, when Oudinot, collecting
his troops into a single immense column on the road to
St. Petersburg, marched to attack Wittgenstein's army, which we
believed was positioned ten leagues from us, between two little towns
named Sebej and Newel. At the end of the day we made our bivouac on
the banks of the Drissa. This tributary of the Dvina is no more than
a rivulet at the coaching inn of Siwotschina, where it is crossed by
the main road to St. Petersburg; and where, as there is no bridge,
the Russian government has instead cut back the steep banks between
which the stream runs to make a gently sloping approach, and has
paved its bed to the same width as the road, thus creating a passable
ford. To the right and left of the ford, however, troops and vehicles
cannot cross, because of the steepness of the banks. I mention this
because three days later this spot was the scene of a brisk
engagement.

The next day, the 30th, my regiment being on duty, I took my
place at the head of the advance-guard and, followed by the whole army
corps, I crossed the ford through the Drissa. The heat was most
oppressive, and in the dust-covered corn fields at the side of the
road one could see two large areas where the grain had been flattened
and crushed, as if a roller had been dragged over it, indicating the
passage of a large column of infantry. Suddenly, near the coaching
inn of Kliastitsoui, these signs disappeared from the main road, and
could be seen to the left on a wide side-road which led to Jacoubovo.
It was evident that the enemy had turned off the road to Sebej at
this point and was preparing to attack our left flank. This seemed
to me to be a serious matter, so I halted our troops and sent a
message to warn my general. The Marshal, however, who usually kept
in view of the advance-guard, had seen that I had halted. He came
along at the gallop and in spite of the opinions of Generals Castex
and Lorencez, he ordered me to continue up the main road. I had
scarcely gone a league when I saw coming towards me a calische
drawn by two post-horses....I stopped it and I saw a Russian officer
who, overcome by the heat, was lying full-length on its floor. This
young man, the son of the nobleman who owned the coaching inn of
Kliastitsoui which I had just passed, was one of Wittgenstein's
aides-de-camp, and was returning from St. Petersburg with the reply
to some despatches which the general had sent to the government. You
may imagine his surprise when, startled out of his sleep, he found
himself surrounded by our bearded chasseurs, and saw not far away the
numerous columns of French soldiers. He could not understand why he
had not encountered Wittgenstein's army, or at least some of his
scouts, between Sebej and the spot where we were; but his
astonishment confirmed the opinion held by General Castex and me that
Wittgenstein, to lay a trap for Oudinot, had suddenly quitted the
road to St. Petersburg to attack the left flank and the rear of the
French force. In fact, it was not long before we heard the sound of
artillery and gun-fire.

Marshal Oudinot, although taken by surprise by this unexpected
attack, extricated himself quite well from the tight spot in which he
had landed himself. Ordering his columns to left face, he presented a
line to the attacker, who was repulsed so vigourously that he did not
care to renew the attack that day, and retired to Jakoubovo. 
Wittgenstein's cavalry had, however, enjoyed a considerable success,
for they had captured, in the French rear, some thousand men and
some of our equipment; amongst other things, all our mobile forges.
This was a serious loss, which was felt badly by the cavalry of 2nd
Corps throughout the whole of the campaign. After this engagement,
Oudinot's troops having taken up their position, Castex was ordered
to return to Kliastitsoui, to guard the point at which the road
branched, where we were joined by General Maison's infantry. The
Russian officer held prisoner in the house belonging to his father
did us the honours with good grace.

In expectation of a major battle on the following day, the
commanders of both armies had made their dispositions, and, at
daybreak, the Russians attacked the inn at Kliastitsoui, which
constituted the French right wing. Although in these circumstances
both our regiments would be in action, the regiment on duty would be
in the first rank, and it was the turn of the 24th Chasseurs. To
avoid any possibility of hesitation, General Castex placed himself at
the head of the regiment, and falling rapidly on the Russians, he
overran them and took 400 prisoners without suffering many
casualties. He was in the forefront of the attack, and his horse was
killed by a bayonet thrust. In the resultant fall his foot had been
trodden on, and he was unable for several days to lead the brigade. 
His place was taken by Colonel A....

The Russian battalions which the 24th had just defeated were
immediately replaced by others which, emerging from Jacoubovo,
marched rapidly towards us. The Marshal ordered A... to attack them,
and we were told to advance, which we did without delay. Having
arrived at the front line, we arranged ourselves in battle order and
advanced toward the Russians, who awaited us resolutely. As soon as
we were within range, I ordered the charge...! It was carried out
with the greatest vigour, for my troopers, as well as displaying
their usual courage, were aware that their comrades of the 24th were
watching their every move. The Russians made what I consider to be
the fatal mistake of discharging all their weapons at once by firing
a volley, which, badly aimed, killed only a few men and horses:
continuous fire would have been much more devastating. They then
needed to reload, but we did not give them time; our excellent
horses, galloping at full speed, hit them with such force that many
of them were knocked to the ground. A good number got to their feet
and attempted to defend themselves with their bayonets against the
sabres of our Chasseurs, but after suffering a great many casualties
they fell back, then broke ranks, and a good number were killed or
captured as they fled towards a cavalry regiment which had come to
their aid. This was the Grodno Hussars.

I have noticed that when a unit has defeated another, it always
maintains its superiority. I saw here a further proof of this, for
the Chasseurs of the 23rd hurled themselves on the Grodno Hussars, as
if they were easy prey, having previously beaten them soundly in a
night battle at Drouia, and the Hussars, having recognised their
enemy, took to their heels. This regiment, during the rest of the
campaign, invariably faced the 23rd, who always retained their
ascendancy. While these events were taking place on our right wing,
the infantry on the left and in the centre had attacked the Russians
who, defeated everywhere, had abandoned the field of battle and at
nightfall they went to take up a position about a league away. Our
army took possession of the area which it occupied, between Jakoubovo
and the road junction at Kliastitsoui. There was much celebration
that night in the brigade bivouacs, on account of our victory. My
regiment had captured the flag of the Tamboff infantry, and the 24th
had also taken that of the Russian unit which they had overcome; but
their satisfaction was diminished by the knowledge that two of their
squadron commanders had been wounded, both of whom, however, made a
rapid recovery and served throughout the rest of the campaign.

When a unit endeavours to outflank an enemy, it risks being
itself outflanked. This is what happened to Wittgenstein, for
on the night of the 29th, having left the St. Petersburg road to
attack the left and rear of the French army, he had compromised his
line of communication, which Oudinot could have cut completely if he
taken full advantage of the victory achieved on the 30th. The
Russian situation was made worse by the fact that while facing a
victorious army which barred its line of retreat, it learned that
Marshal Macdonald, having crossed the Dvina and taken the fort of
Dvinaberg, was advancing on the Russian rear. To get out of this
difficulty, Wittgenstein had, during the night after the battle, made
a cross-country detour which took his army back on to the
St. Petersburg road at a point beyond the inn at Kliastitsoui. 
Since, however, he was afraid that the French troops who were in that
area might fall on his force during this flank move, he decided to
prevent them from doing so by himself attacking them with superior
strength, while the bulk of his army regained the route to St. 
Petersburg and reopened his communications with Sebej.

The next day, the 31st of July, my regiment came on duty at dawn,
when it could be seen that part of the army which we had defeated
the day before had avoided our right wing and was in full flight
towards Sebej, while the remainder were about to attack us at
Kliastitsoui. All of Marshal Oudinot's troops were immediately stood
to, but while the generals were arranging them in battle order, a
strong column of Russian Grenadiers attacked our allies, the
Portuguese, and reduced them to complete disorder; they then turned
on the large and solid coaching inn, an important point which they
were about to take, when Marshal Oudinot, always in the forefront of
any action, hurried to my regiment, which was already at the
outposts, and ordered me to try to stop or at least slow down the
enemy advance until the arrival of our infantry which was approaching
rapidly. I took my regiment off at the gallop, and ordering the
trumpeter to sound the charge, I struck the right of the enemy line
obliquely, which greatly hindered the ability of their infantry and
Grenadiers to fire on us, and they were about to be cut down, for
they were already in disorder, when either spontaneously or under the
orders of their officers, they made an about turn and ran for a large
ditch which they had left behind them. They all scrambled into it
and from its cover they directed a continuous fire at us. 
Immediately I had six or seven men killed and some twenty wounded,
and was hit by a stray ball in the left shoulder. My troopers had
their blood up, but they could not attack men whom it was
physically impossible to reach. At this moment General Maison
arrived with his infantry and having ordered me to withdraw behind
his columns, he attacked the ditch from both ends and all its
defenders were either killed or made prisoner.

As for me, with a painful wound, I was taken back to the inn and
removed, with difficulty, from my horse. The good Dr. Parot, the
regimental surgeon, came to dress my injury, but he had scarcely
started this when he was forced to break off. There was a new
Russian assault and a hail of ball fell about us, so that we had to
remove ourselves out of range of the fire. The doctor found that my
injury was serious and could have been fatal if the thick braiding of
my epaulet, through which the ball had passed, had not deflected it
and lessened its force. The blow had been sufficiently heavy to
knock me back almost onto my horse's crupper, so that the officers
and troopers who were following me thought I had been killed, and I
would have fallen if my orderlies had not supported me. The dressing
was very painful, for the ball was embedded in the bone at the point
where the upper arm joins the collar-bone. To get it out the wound
had to be enlarged and you can still see the big scar.

I can promise you that if I had been already a colonel, I would
have joined the many wounded who were being sent back to
Polotsk, and after crossing the Dvina I would have sought some
Lithuanian town where I might be cared for; but I was only a squadron
commander and at any time the Emperor could arrive at Witepsk and
hold a revue, at which he would award nothing except to those who
were present, bearing arms. This custom which at first may seem
cruel, was based nevertheless on the interest of the service, for it
encouraged the wounded not to remain in hospital any longer than was
necessary, and to rejoin their units as soon as they were fit enough
to do so. In view of the above, my success in action against the
enemy, my recent wound received in combat, and my devotion to the
regiment, all compelled me not to go away; so I stayed in spite of
the severe pain which I was suffering, and having put my arm in a
sling as well as I could, and had myself hoisted onto horseback, I
rejoined my regiment.

Chap. 9.

Since I had been wounded, things had changed considerably; our
troops had defeated those of Wittgenstein and taken a great number of
prisoners, but the Russians had reached the St. Petersburg road and
were continuing their retreat to Sebej.

To get to this town from the inn at Kliastitsoui, one must cross the
enormous marsh of Khodanui, in the middle of which the main road is
raised on an embankment made of huge pine trees laid one next to
another. On each side of this causeway is a ditch, or rather a wide
and deep canal, and there is no other route except by making an
exceedingly long detour. The embankment is almost a league long, but
of considerable width, so that, it being impossible to put flank
guards in the marsh, the Russians marched in dense columns along this
artificial road, beyond which our maps showed open country. Marshal
Oudinot, aiming at further victory, had decided to follow them, and
for this reason he had already despatched on the road to the marsh
General Verdier's infantry, which was to be followed first by
Castex's brigade of cavalry, then the whole army corps. My regiment
had not yet joined the line when I returned to it.

When, in spite of my injury, I took up my place at their head, I
received a general acclamation from both officers and men, which
showed the affection and esteem in which these brave people held me;
I was deeply touched by this, and even more so by the welcome I
received from Major Fontaine. This officer, although both courageous
and competent, was so unambitious that he had remained a captain for
eighteen years, having refused promotion three times, which he had
finally accepted only on a direct order from the Emperor.

So I once more took command of the 23rd, and began to cross the
marsh behind General Verdier's division, at which the rear unit of
the enemy column fired only a few long range shots while they were
still on the causeway. When, however, our infantry reached the open
country, they saw the Russian army deployed in battle formation, and
were treated to a devastating barrage of artillery fire. 
Nevertheless, in spite of their losses the French battalions
continued to advance. Soon they were all off the embankment and it
was the turn of my regiment, at the head of the brigade, to reach the
open ground. Colonel A..., who was the temporary brigade commander,
was not there to give me orders so I thought it right to remove my
regiment from this dangerous spot and I led them off at the gallop as
soon as the infantry gave me room; however I had seven or eight men
killed and a greater number wounded. The 24th, who followed me, also
suffered many casualties. The same happened to General Legrand's
infantry division; but as soon as they were formed up on the plain,
Marshal Oudinot attacked the enemy lines, and they directed their
artillery fire at several different points so that the exit from the
marsh would have become less perilous for the remainder of the army,
if Wittgenstein had not at that moment attacked with all his force
the units which we had in the open. His superiority in numbers
compelled us to give ground and we were driven back towards the
causeway of the Khodanui. Fortunately the track was very wide, which
allowed us to proceed by platoons. As soon as we left the plain, the
cavalry became more of a hindrance than a help. The marshal put us
in front of the retreat; we were followed by Verdier's division,
whose general had been very seriously wounded, and General Legrand's
division made the rear-guard. The last brigade of this division,
commanded by General Albert, had to fight a very sharp action while
its last battalions were getting onto the causeway, but once they
were formed into columns General Albert put eight artillery pieces at
the tail end which kept up a continuous fire during the retreat, so
it was the turn of the enemy to suffer heavy casualties. By
contrast, the Russian artillery rarely discharged a shot because the
guns had to be turned round to fire at us and then turned back to
continue the pursuit, a lengthy and difficult operation on the
causeway, so that they did us little damage.

The day was ending when the French troops, having crossed the
marsh, repassed Kliastitsoui and found themselves once more on the
banks of the Drissa, at the ford of Sivotschina which they had
crossed in the morning to follow the Russians who had been defeated
at Kliastitsoui. The Russians had their revenge for having caused us
seven or eight hundred casualties on the plain beyond the marsh; they
now had a sword at our backs. To put an end to the fighting and
allow the army some rest, Marshal Oudinot led it across the ford to
set up camp at Bieloe.

Night was falling when the outposts which had been left to watch
the Drissa, reported that the enemy were crossing the river. The
Marshal went there at once, and could see that eight Russian
battalions with a battery of fourteen guns were setting up their
bivouac on our side of the river, while the remainder of the army
stayed on the other side, preparing no doubt to cross over and attack
us on the morrow. This advance party was commanded by General
Koulnieff, an enterprising officer but one who, like most of the
Russian officers of the period, drank to excess. It would seem that
on this evening he had drunk more than usual, for it is otherwise
difficult to explain why he made the grave error of coming, with no
more than eight battalions to set up camp a short distance from an
army of forty thousand men, and that in a most unfavourable position;
for he had, some two hundred paces behind him, the Drissa, which
could not be crossed except by the ford; not because of the depth of
the water but because it ran between very steep banks fifteen to
twenty feet high. Koulnieff had therefore no other line of retreat
but the ford. Could it be that he hoped that his eight battalions
and fourteen canons would be able, if defeated, to withdraw smartly
across this one passage, in the face of an attack which might be
launched at any moment by the French army from nearby Bieloe? The
answer must be no, but general Koulnieff was in no state to consider
the matter when he put his camp on the left bank of the river. It is
perhaps surprising that Wittgenstein should have entrusted the
command of his advance guard to Koulnieff, of whose intemperate
habits he must have been aware.

While the head of the Russian column approached, rashly, to within
such a short distance of us, a great confusion reigned, not among the
troops, but among their leaders. Marshal Oudinot, although the
bravest of men, lacked consistency, and passed rapidly from a plan of
attack to one of a withdrawal. The losses which he had suffered
towards the end of the day on the other side of the great marsh had
thrown him into a state of perplexity, and he could not think how he
was to carry out the Emperor's orders, which were to push
Wittgenstein back at least as far as Sebej and Newel. He was
therefore delighted to receive, during the night, a despatch
informing him of the imminent arrival of a Bavarian corps, commanded
by General Saint-Cyr, which the Emperor was placing under his orders;
but instead of awaiting this powerful reinforcement in his present
sound position, Oudinot, advised by the general of artillery,
Dulauloy, wished to make contact with the Bavarians by withdrawing
his army as far as Polotsk. This inexplicable notion was warmly
opposed by the group of generals summoned by the Marshal. General
Legrand said that although our success of the morning had been
counter-balanced by the losses of the evening, the army was still in
good heart and ready to advance, and that to retreat to Polotsk would
damage their morale and present them to the Bavarians as a defeated
force coming to seek refuge amongst them; an idea which would arouse
indignation in all French bosoms. This vigourous speech by Legrand
was acclaimed by all the generals and the Marshal then gave up the
project of a retreat.

There remained the question of what to do the next day. General
Legrand, with the authority of his seniority, long service and
experience in warfare, proposed that they should take advantage of
the serious error made by Koulnieff by attacking the advance-guard so
imprudently placed without support on the bank which we occupied, and
drive them back into the Drissa which they had behind them. This
advice having been accepted by the Marshal and all the group, the
execution of it was confided to General Legrand.

Oudinot's army was encamped in a forest of huge, widely spaced
pines, beyond which there was a very extensive clearing. The
boundaries of the wood took the form of a bow, the two ends of which
reached the Drissa, which formed as it were the bow-string. The
Russians had set up their bivouac very close to the river, opposite
the ford. Their frontage was protected by fourteen artillery pieces.

General Legrand wanted to take the enemy by surprise, so he
ordered General Albert to send a regiment of infantry to each of the
ends of the wood from where they could attack the camp from the flank
as soon as they heard the approach of the cavalry, who, emerging from
the woods in the centre of the bow would go bald-headed for the
Russian battalions and drive them into the ravine. The task given to
the cavalry was plainly the most dangerous, for not only had they to
make a frontal attack on an enemy armed with 6000 muskets but would
also be exposed to the fire of fourteen artillery pieces before they
could reach their objective. It was, however, hoped that by a
surprise attack, the Russians might be caught asleep, and put up
little resistance.

You have seen that my regiment having come on duty on the morning
of the 31st July at Kliastitsoui, had continued to serve for the
whole of that day, and should, according to the regulations, have
been relieved by the 24th at 1 A.M. on the 1st August, and it was
this regiment whose duty it was to carry out the attack, while mine
remained in reserve; there being only enough space in the clearing
between the woods and the stream for one regiment of cavalry. 
However, Colonel A... went to Oudinot and suggested to him that there
was a danger that while we were preparing to attack the troops in
front of us, General Wittgenstein might send a strong column to our
right which could cross the Drissa at another ford which probably
existed some three leagues upstream from where we were, and gaining
our rear could capture our wounded and our equipment; and that it
would be a good idea to send a regiment of cavalry to keep an eye on
this ford. The Marshal fell in with this suggestion and Colonel A...,
whose regiment had just come on duty, quickly ordered his men into
the saddle and led them off on this expedition which he had thought
up, leaving to the 23rd the dangers of the battle which was about to
take place.

My regiment received with calm the news of the perilous mission
which had been thrust upon them and welcomed the appearance of the
Marshal and General Legrand when they came to supervise the
preparations for this important attack which we were about to carry
out.

At this time all the French regiments, with the exception of the
Cuirassiers, had a company of Grenadiers, known as the élite company,
whose customary position was on the right of the line, a position
which they held in the 23rd. General Legrand observed to the Marshal
that, as the enemy had placed their artillery in front of their
centre, it was there that most danger would lie, and in order to
avoid any hesitation which might compromise the whole operation, it
would be advisable to attack this point with the élite company, which
was composed of the most seasoned soldiers mounted on the best
horses. It was in vain that I assured the Marshal that the regiment
was in all respects as solid in one part as in another, he ordered me
to put the élite company in the centre, which I then did. I next
gathered the officers together and explained to them in low tones
what we were to do, and warned them that, the better to surprise the
enemy, I would give no preparatory commands and would simply order
the charge when we were within close range of the enemy guns. Once
everything had been arranged, the regiment left its bivouac, in
complete silence, at the first faint light of dawn, and made its way
without difficulty through the wood, the great trees of which were
widely spaced, and arrived at the level clearing in which was the
Russian encampment. I alone in the regiment had no sabre in my hand,
for having only one hand which I could use, I needed that to hold the
reins of my horse. You will understand that this was a very
unpleasant situation for a cavalry officer about to engage the enemy.

However, I had chosen to go with my regiment and so I placed myself
in front of the élite company, having beside me their gallant
captain, M. Courteau, one of the finest of officers and one whom I
valued most highly.

All was quiet in the Russian camp, towards which we advanced
slowly and in silence, and my hopes of achieving a total surprise
were increased by the fact that General Koulnieff not having brought
any cavalry across the ford, we saw no mounted outposts, and could
distinguish, by the feeble light of their fires, only a few infantry
sentries, posted so close to the camp that between their warning and
our sudden arrival the Russians would have little chance to prepare
themselves for defence. Suddenly, however, two prowling and
suspicious Cossack peasants appeared on horseback, some thirty paces
from our line, and after regarding it for a moment they fled towards
the camp, where it was obvious that they intended to give warning of
our presence. This mischance was very unfortunate, because had it not
been for that, we would certainly have reached the Russians without
losing a man; however since we were now discovered and were in any
case nearing the spot where I had decided to increase the speed of
our advance, I urged my horse into a gallop; the regiment did the
same, and shortly I gave the order to sound the charge.

At this signal my gallant troopers and I launched ourselves at the
enemy, upon whom we fell like a thunderbolt. The two Cossacks had,
however, raised the alarm. The gunners, sleeping beside their guns,
grabbed their slow matches, and fourteen canons belched grapeshot at
the regiment. Thirty-seven men, of whom nineteen belonged to the
élite company, were killed outright. The brave Captain Courteau was
amongst them, as was Lieutenant Lallouette. The Russian gunners were
attempting to reload their guns when they were cut down by our men. 
We had few wounded, almost all the injuries having been fatal. We
had some forty horses killed, mine was maimed by a heavy bullet but
was able to carry me to the Russian camp where the soldiers, rudely
awakened from their sleep, were rushing to take up their arms, but
were being sabred by our troopers, whom I had ordered to get between
them and the rows of muskets, so that few were able to reach one and
fire at us. Then, alerted by the sound of gunfire, General Albert's
two regiments of infantry ran from the wood to attack the two sides
of the camp, bayoneting all who resisted. The Russians, in disorder,
were unable to withstand this triple attack. Many of them, who
having arrived at night had not been able to see the height of the
river banks, tried to escape by this route and falling fifteen or
twenty feet onto the rocks were injured and in many cases killed.

General Koulnieff, hardly awake, joined a group of two thousand
men of whom about one third had muskets, and following mechanically
this disorganised crowd, he arrived at the ford, but I had given
orders that this important spot should be occupied by five or six
hundred horsemen, amongst whom were the élite company who, enraged at
the loss of their captain, massacred most of the Russians. General
Koulnieff, who had already been drinking, attacked Sergeant Legendre,
who, thrusting his sabre into the Russian's neck, laid him dead at
his feet. M. de. Ségur, in his story of the campaign of 1812, has
General Koulnieff making a dying speech worthy of Homer. I was
within a few feet of Sergeant Legendre when he drove his sabre into
Koulnieff's throat, and I can certify that the General fell without
uttering a word. The victory achieved by General Albert's infantry
and the 23rd was complete. The enemy had at least 2000 men killed or
wounded and we took around 4000 prisoners. The remainder perished by
falling on the sharp rocks of the river. Some of the most agile
Russians managed to rejoin Wittgenstein, who, when he heard of the
sanguinary defeat of his advance-guard, began a retreat toward Sebej.

Marshal Oudinot, encouraged by the resounding success which he had
just gained, decided to pursue the Russians, and took his army, as on
the previous day, back across the Drissa to the right bank; but in
order to give General Albert's infantry brigade and the 23rd
Chasseurs an opportunity to recover from the effects of the fighting,
he left them to keep watch on the field of battle at Sivotschina. I
took advantage of this period of rest to carry out a ceremony rarely
seen in war. This was to pay my last respects to those of our brave
comrades who had lost their lives. They were laid, arranged by rank,
in a large pit, with Captain Courteau and his lieutenant at their
head. Then the fourteen canons, so gallantly captured by the 23rd,
were placed before this military tomb.

Having completed this act of piety, I wished to dress my wound of
the previous day, which was causing me a great deal of pain, and to
do this I went to sit apart under a huge pine tree. There I saw a
young battalion commander, who with his back against the trunk and
held up by two Grenadiers, was painfully closing a little package on
which a name was traced in his blood. This officer, who belonged to
Albert's brigade, had suffered, during the attack on the Russian
camp, an appalling bayonet wound which had slit open his abdomen from
which the intestines were protruding, pierced in several places. 
Although some dressing had been applied the blood still flowed and
the wound was mortal. The doomed man, who was well aware of this,
had wished, before he died, to take leave of a lady whom he loved but
did not know to whom he might entrust this precious message, when
chance brought me there. We knew each other only by sight, but
nonetheless, urged by the approach of death, he asked me, in a voice
now faint, to do him two favours, then motioning the Grenadiers to
one side he gave me the package, and saying, with tears in his
eyes, "It is a portrait," he made me promise to deliver it secretly,
with my own hands, if I was fortunate enough to return one day to
Paris. "In any case," he added "there is no hurry, for it would be
better if this was received long after I am gone." I promised to
carry out this sad task, which I was unable to do until two years
later in 1814. The second request which he made I was able to carry
out within some two hours. He was distressed to think that his body
would be devoured by the wolves which abounded in the country and
asked to be put beside the captain and the troopers of the 23rd,
whose burial he had seen. This I promised, and when he died not long
after our unhappy meeting, I carried out this last wish.

Chap. 10.

Deeply moved by this unhappy event,I was meditating with much
sadness, when I was awakened from my reveries by the distant sound of
a sustained cannonade. The two armies were once more in action. 
Marshal Oudinot, after passing the inn at Kliastitsoui, where I had
been wounded the day before, had contacted the Russian rear-guard at
the beginning of the marsh, the exit from which had been so
disastrous for us on the previous day. He was determined to drive the
enemy back, but they were not prepared to pass through this
dangerous defile, and mounted a counter-offensive against the French
troops who, after suffering considerable losses, retreated, followed
by the Russians. One might have thought that Oudinot and
Wittgenstein were playing a game of prisoner's base, advancing and
retreating by turn. The news of this fresh retreat by Oudinot was
given to us on the battlefield of Sivotschina by an aide-de-camp, who
brought to General Albert the order to take his brigade, together with
the 23rd Chasseurs, two leagues to the rear, in the direction of
Polotsk.

When it came to leaving, I was unwilling to part with the fourteen
artillery pieces captured that morning by my regiment, and as the
horses which pulled them had also fallen into our hands, they were
harnessed up and we took the guns to our next bivouac, and on the
night following to Polotsk, where it was not long before they played
an effective part in the defence of that town.

Oudinot withdrew that same day to the ford at Sivotschina, which
he had crossed in the morning in pursuit of Wittgenstein who, bearing
in mind the disaster which had overwhelmed his advance-guard at this
place on the occasion, did not risk sending any isolated unit across
to the bank which we occupied. So the two armies, separated by the
Drissa, settled themselves for the night.

On the following day, the 2nd August, Oudinot having joined his
units at Polotsk, hostilities ceased for a few days, as both sides
were in need of a rest. We were rejoined by the good General Castex
and also by the 24th Chasseurs, who were very angry with their
Colonel for leading them away when it was their turn to attack the
Russian camp. On their trip up the Drissa they had seen no sign of
the enemy nor had they found any trace of the supposed ford.

After several days rest Wittgenstein led part of his troops
towards the lower Dvina, from where Macdonald was threatening his
right. When Marshal Oudinot followed the Russian army in that
direction it turned to face him, and for a week or ten days there was
a series of marches and countermarches, and several minor engagements
which it would be too long and wearisome to describe, and which
resulted only in the useless killing of men and the demonstration of
the indecision of both commanders.

The most serious engagement during this short period took place on
the 13th August near the magnificent monastery of Valensoui, built on
the bank of the Svolna. This little river, which has very muddy banks,
separated the French and the Russians, and it was obvious that
whichever general attempted to force a crossing on such unfavourable
terrain would come to grief. Neither Oudinot nor Wittgenstein had
any intention of crossing the Svolna at this point; but instead of
going to look for some other place where they could meet in combat,
they took up positions on either side of this watercourse, as it were
in mutual despite. Soon there was from both banks a lively cannonade
which was totally useless as the troops on neither side could attack
their adversaries and was no credit to either party.

However Wittgenstein, to protect the lives of his men, had
restricted himself to posting some battalions of unmounted Chasseurs
among the willows and reeds which bordered the stream, and had kept
the bulk of his force out of the range of the French guns, whose
brisk fire hit only some of his sharpshooters, while Oudinot, who had
insisted, in spite of the sensible advice of several generals, on
bringing his first line up to the Svolna suffered losses which he
could have and should have avoided. The Russian artillery is nowhere
as good as ours, but they used pieces called licornes, which had a
range exceeding that of the French guns of the period, and it was
these licornes which did the most damage among our troops.

Marshal Oudinot, in his belief that the enemy were going to cross
the river, not only kept a division of infantry in position to repel
them, but supported them with General Castex's cavalry, an
unnecessary precaution, since a crossing of even a small river takes
more time than is needed for the defenders to hurry into a position
to oppose it. Nonetheless my regiment was exposed for twenty-four
hours to the Russian fire, which killed or wounded several of my men.

During this confrontation in which the troops remained stationary
for a long period, there arrived the aide-de-camp whom Oudinet had
sent to Witepsk to report to the Emperor the result of the battles at
Kliastitsoui and at Sivotschina. Napoleon, who wanted to make it
clear to the troops that he did not blame them for the lack of
success in our operations, loaded 2nd Corps with rewards in the way
of decorations and promotions, and then, turning to the cavalry, he
awarded four Crosses of the Legion of Honour to each of the cavalry
regiments. In the despatch announcing this news, Major-general the
Prince Berthier added that in order to show his satisfaction with the
conduct of the 23rd Chasseurs at Wilkomir, at the bridge of
Dvinaburg, in the night battle at Drouia, at Kliastitsoui, and above
all in the attack on the Russian camp at Sivotschina, the Emperor was
awarding them, in addition to the four decorations given to the other
regiments, fourteen decorations, one for each of the guns captured by
them from Koulnieff's advance-guard, so that I had now eighteen
crosses to distribute among my brave soldiers. The aide-de-camp had
not brought the awards themselves, but the Major-general had added to
his letter the request that the regimental commanders should draw up
a list of recipients and forward it to him.

I assembled all the captains, and after taking their advice, I
drew up my list, and presented it to Marshal Oudinot, asking at the
same time if I might be allowed to announce the awards immediately to
my regiment: "What, here, under fire?" "Yes, marshal, under fire.
That enhances their value."

General Lorencez, who as chief of staff had written the report of
the various actions, in which he had highly praised the 23rd, agreed
with my suggestion and so the Marshal consented. The decorations
would not arrive until later, but I had my servant look in my baggage
for a piece of ribbon which I had in my portmanteau, and when it was
found, and after it had been cut into eighteen pieces, I announced to
the regiment the awards which the Emperor had presented, and calling
out of the ranks each of the recipients in turn, I gave them a piece
of the red ribbon, then so keenly wished for and so proudly worn, and
which has since then been so diminished in value, almost prostituted,
by handing it out indiscriminately to all and sundry.

This ceremony, conducted in the field and under fire, had a great
effect, and the enthusiasm of the regiment was at its height when I
announced the name of Sergeant Prud'homme, reputed justly to be the
most intrepid and unassuming of the warriors of the 23rd. This brave
survivor of many a fierce encounter, accepted with modesty his piece
of ribbon, to the sound of loud acclamation from all the squadrons. 
A moment of well earned triumph. I shall never forget this moving
scene which took place, as you know, within range of the enemy guns.

Sadly, there is no rose without its thorn. Two of the men who
were included in my list had just been severely wounded. Sergeant
Legendre, who had killed General Koulnieff, had an arm carried away,
and Corporal Griffon had a leg smashed. The injured limbs were being
amputated when I went to the dressing station to give them their
decorations. At the sight of the ribbons they forgot for a moment
their pain, but unhappily, Sergeant Legendre did not long survive his
injury, though Griffon recovered and was sent back to France, where I
saw him some years later in Les Invalides.

The 24th Chasseurs, who received only four decorations as opposed
to the eighteen awarded to the 23rd, conceded that this was fair, but
nevertheless they regretted that they had been deprived of the honour
of taking the fourteen Russian guns at Sivotschina, even at the cost
of suffering such casualties as ours, "We are soldiers" they said,
"and must take our chances for better or worse." They blamed their
colonel for providing them with what they called this let-down. Here
was an army whose men actually clamoured for action.

You will doubtless wonder what I got out of all this, and the
answer is nothing. The Emperor, before he removed Colonel de La
Nougarède from the command of the regiment and either made him a
general or head of a legion of gendarmes, wanted to know if his
health would permit him to carry out the duties of either of these
two ranks. As a consequence Marshal Oudinot was ordered to bring
Colonel de La Nougarède before a medical board, whose conclusion was
that he would never be able to mount a horse. In view of this, the
Marshal authorised the Colonel's return to France, where he was given
the command of a minor fortress. The unfortunate Colonel, before
leaving Polotsk, where his infirmities had forced him to remain,
wrote me a very touching letter in which he took his leave of the
23rd, and although he had never led the regiment into action, an
event which increases the men's regard for their commander, his
departure was justifiably regretted.

The regiment now being without a colonel, the Marshal expected to
receive at any moment the order for my promotion to that rank, and
quite frankly so did I. The Emperor had however moved away, and had
left Witepsk to take Smolensk and from there to march on Moscow, and
the work of his cabinet had been slowed by their preoccupation with
military operations to such an extent that I was not gazetted Colonel
until three months later.

Let us now return to the banks of the Svolna, which the French
left hurriedly after depositing some of their wounded in the
monastery of Valensoui. Amongst those whom we lost was M. Casabianca,
Colonel of the 11th light infantry regiment, who had served with me
as aide-de-camp to Masséna. He was a very fine officer whose
promotion had been rapid; but his career was ended by a head injury
received when he was visiting some of his men on the bank of the
Svolna. He was dying when I saw him on a stretcher carried by some
sappers. He recognised me and shaking my hand he observed that he
was sorry to see our army corps so poorly managed. The poor fellow
died that evening.

His last words were only too well founded, for our leader seemed to
proceed without method or plan. After a success, he pursued
Wittgenstein regardless of any obstacles and spoke of nothing less
than driving him back as far as St. Petersburg, but at the least
check he retreated swiftly and started seeing enemies everywhere. It
was in this last state that he took his troops back to Polotsk,
although they were displeased being at being made to fall back before
the Russians whom they had recently defeated in almost every
encounter.

On the 15th of August, the Emperor's birthday, 2nd Corps arrived
dejectedly at Polotsk, where we met with 6th Corps, formed of the
two fine Bavarian divisions of General Wrède, which had a French
general, Gouvion Saint-Cyr in overall command. The Emperor had sent
this reinforcement of 8 to 10,000 men to Marshal Oudinot, who would
have received it with more pleasure if he had not been afraid of the
man in command.

Saint-Cyr was one of the most competent soldiers in Europe. A
contemporary and rival of Moreau, Hoche, Kleber and Desaix, he had
successfully commanded one wing of the French army of the Rhine at a
time when Oudinot was scarcely a colonel or a brigade commander. I do
not know anyone who could command troops in the field better than
Saint-Cyr.

The son of a small landowner in Toul, he had studied to be a civil
engineer, but he gave this up to become an actor in Paris, where he
created the well-known role of "Robert,the Brigand Chief." In the
City Theatre, where he was when the revolution of '89 broke out,
Saint-Cyr joined a volunteer battalion, where he showed great courage
and military talent, and soon became a divisional general and gained
a number of victories. He was a tall man but looked more like a
schoolmaster than a soldier, due in part perhaps to the habit adopted
by the generals of the army of the Rhine of wearing neither uniform
nor epaulets, but only a plain blue greatcoat.

One could not imagine anyone more self-controlled; the greatest
dangers, setbacks, successes, or defeats, failed to rouse him to any
show of emotion. He maintained an icy calm in all situations. It is
obvious how useful such a temperament coupled with a taste for study
and meditation, might be to a general officer, but Saint-Cyr had also
some serious faults. Jealous of his comrades, he had been known to
hold his troops back while, close to him, other divisions were
decimated in a desperate struggle. He would then advance and
profiting from the exhaustion of the enemy he would overcome them,
and thus appear to have won the victory single-handed. Secondly, if
Saint-Cyr was one of the best officers in the employment of troops in
the field, he was without doubt the one who took the least interest
in their welfare. He never inquired if the men had food, clothing or
footwear, or if their arms were in proper repair. He never held an
inspection, nor visited the hospitals, nor even asked if there were
any! In his opinion it was the duty of the colonels to see to all
that. In short he wanted to be presented on the field of battle with
regiments in fighting order, without troubling himself to see that
they were kept in that condition. This sort of behaviour had not
done Saint-Cyr any good. Wherever he served, the soldiers, although
acknowledging his military talents, regarded him without affection. 
His fellow officers dreaded working with him and the various
governments which had taken power in France had employed him only out
of necessity. The Emperor did the same, but he so much disliked
Saint-Cyr that when he created the rank of marshal he left his name
off the list of promotions, even though he had seen more service and
shown more skill than most of those to whom Napoleon awarded the
baton. Such was the man whom the Emperor had just placed under
Oudinet's orders, to the great regret of the latter, who feared that
he would be shown up by comparison with Saint-Cyr's superior talents.

On the 16th of August, the day on which my eldest son Alfred was
born, the Russian army of some sixty thousand men attacked Oudinot,
who, including the Bavarian unit led by Saint-Cyr, had fifty two
thousand men under his command. In any other circumstances an
engagement between one hundred and twelve thousand men would have
been called a battle; but in 1812 the when the total number of
combatants amounted to some six or seven hundred thousand, a fight
involving one hundred thousand men was no more than an action, and it
is this description which is given to the struggle at Polotsk between
the Russian troops and those of Marshal Oudinot.

The town of Polotsk, built on the right bank of the Dvina, is
surrounded by old earthen ramparts. Before the main frontage of the
town the fields are divided by a large number of little ditches
between which vegetables are grown. Although these obstacles are not
impassable for artillery and cavalry, they hinder their movement. 
These gardens extend for less than half a league in front of the
town, but on their left, on the bank of the Divna, there is a large
area of level ground. It is here that the Russian general should have
attacked Polotsk, for it would have given him command of the frail
and only pontoon bridge, which was our communication with the left
bank from which we drew our ammunition and food supply. But
Wittgenstein chose to make a frontal attack and directed his main
force towards the gardens from where he hoped to scale the ramparts
which, to tell the truth, were no more than easily climbed
embankments, whose height, however, allowed them to dominate the
ground in front of them. The attack was pressed home vigourously, but
our infantry put up a stout defence among the gardens, while from the
height of the ramparts the guns, among which were the fourteen
captured by the 23rd at Sivotschina, ravaged the enemy ranks. The
Russians fell back in disorder to reform themselves on the plain. 
Oudinot, instead of staying sensibly where he was, went after them
and was in turn driven off with casualties. The greater part of the
day was spent in this way, the Russians returning repeatedly to the
attack, only to be driven back beyond the gardens by the French.

During these blood-stained comings and goings, what was General
Saint-Cyr doing? He was following Oudinot about in silence, and when
asked for his opinion he merely bowed and said "Monseigneur le
Marachal...!" as if meaning since you have been made marshal, you must
know more than me, a simple general. So you can sort this out for
yourself.

Wittgenstein, having lost a great many men and despairing of gaining
victory by continued attacks in the area of the gardens, ended up
where he should have begun, by marching his troops towards the
meadows which bordered the Dvina. Up until this time Oudinot had
kept his twelve pounders and all his cavalry at this spot, as if they
had nothing to do with the fighting; but the artillery general,
Dulauloy, anxious about his guns, suggested to the Marshal that he
should send not only the large calibre guns but also all the cavalry
over to the left bank, on the pretext that they got in the way of the
infantry. When Oudinot asked Saint-Cyr what he thought, instead of
offering the sound advice that the artillery and the cavalry should
stay where they were, on ground which allowed them to manoeuvre with
ease and support the infantry, he only repeated his endless
"Monseigneur le Marachal...". In the end, Oudinot, in spite of the
opinion of General Lorencez, his chief-of-staff, ordered the
artillery and the cavalry to withdraw to the other side of the river.
This ill-advised movement, which looked like the prelude to a
retreat and the total abandonment of Polotsk and the right bank,
greatly displeased the troops who were involved, and lowered the
morale of the infantry whose job it was to defend that part of the
town which faced the open ground. The spirits of the Russians were,
on the contrary, raised when they saw ten regiments of cavalry and
several batteries of guns leaving the field of battle. In an effort
to create confusion in this huge mass as it departed they brought
forward and fired their licornes, the hollow ammunition of which acts
first as a cannon-ball and then explodes like a mortar bomb. The
regiments next to mine had several men killed or wounded. I was
lucky enough to have none of my men hit though I lost some horses. 
My own horse was hit in the head and as it fell I went down with it
and my injured shoulder struck hard on the ground, which was very
painful. If the Russian gun had been elevated a bit more, it would
have been I who was hit, fair and square, and my son would have been
an orphan a few hours after first seeing the light of day.

The enemy now resumed their attack, and when, after crossing the
bridge, we looked back to see what was happening on the bank which we
had just left, we saw a disturbing spectacle. The French, Bavarian
and Croatian infantry were fighting bravely and holding their own,
but the Portuguese legion and the two Swiss regiments fled before the
Russians, and did not stop until, having been driven into the river,
they were in the water up to their knees. Then, forced to face the
enemy or drown, they at last struck back, and by a constant barrage
of fire they compelled the Russians to draw back a little. The
commander of the French artillery, who had just crossed the Dvina
with the cavalry, skillfully made use of the opportunity to be
useful, by bringing his guns to the river bank and directing a heavy
fire across the stream at the enemy battalions drawn up on the
opposite bank.

This powerful intervention having stopped Wittgenstein's men at
this point, while the French, Bavarians and Croats drove them back
elsewhere, the fighting eased up and an hour before the end of the
day had degenerated into random firing. The Marshal, however could
not escape the fact that he would have to continue fighting the next
day; and so, preoccupied by a situation the outcome of which he could
not predict, and ruffled by the obstinate silence of Saint-Cyr, he
was walking his horse slowly, followed by only one aide-de-camp,
among musketeers of his infantry, when enemy marksmen, seeing a
rider with a plumed hat, took aim and put a ball through his arm.

The Marshal at once informed Saint-Cyr of the injury and handing to
him the command of the army left him to sort matters out. He himself
left the field, crossed the bridge, stopped for a few moments at the
cavalry bivouac and quitting the army went to Lithuania in our rear,
to have his wound cared for. We did not see him again for two
months.

Chap. 11.

Saint-Cyr took up with a firm and skillful hand the reins of
command, and in a few hours completely changed the look of things. 
Such is the influence of a man who is competent and who inspires
confidence. Marshal Oudinot had left the army in a perilous state:
part of his force driven back to the edge of the river, and the rest
scattered amongst the gardens where they were firing at random; an
inadequate lay-out of guns on the ramparts; the streets of the town
cluttered with wagons, baggage, sutlers and wounded, all in complete
confusion, while the troops had no means of retreat, should they be
overcome, other than the pontoon bridge across the Dvina, a bridge
which was very narrow and in such a bad state that the water was six
inches over the planking of its platform. Finally, night was
approaching and it was feared that the shooting would lead to a
general action which might be disastrous in view of the disorder
which ruled amongst the regiments of different nationalities.

General Saint-Cyr's first act was to order the withdrawal of
those infantrymen who were in action, in the certainty that the tired
enemy would do the same, as soon as they were no longer under attack.

The result was that soon the firing ceased on both sides. The
troops were able to re-form and to have some rest, and further
fighting was postponed until the next day. In order to put himself in
a more favourable position, Saint-Cyr used the night to make
preparations for the repulse of the enemy and to ensure a line of
retreat, should it be necessary. With this aim, he gathered together
all the corps commanders and after making clear to them the dangers
of the situation, one of the more serious of which was the
obstruction of the streets of the town and the approaches to the
bridge, he ordered that the colonels, accompanied by several officers
and with patrols, should go through the streets, sending those men of
their regiments who were fit to their bivouac area, and all the
wounded, sick, led horses, sutlers and carts to the other side of the
bridge. General Saint-Cyr added that he would visit the town at
daybreak and would suspend from duty any corps commander who had not
carried out his instructions promptly! No excuse would be accepted!
There was a rush to obey. The sick and wounded were carried to the
left bank as well as everything which was not actually required for
combat. That is to say all the impedimenta of the army. In this way
the streets and the bridge were soon completely clear. The bridge
was strengthened and the cavalry and guns brought back to the right
bank and located in a suburb furthest from the enemy; and then, to
improve his means of retreat, the prudent general had a second bridge
made out of empty barrels and planks, which was for the sole use of
the infantry. All these preparations having been completed before
daylight, the army awaited its enemies with confidence. The latter,
however, did not stir from their encampment, set up on the open
ground at the edge of the vast forest which surrounds Polotsk on the
side opposite to the river.

General Saint-Cyr, who had expected to be attacked in the early
morning, attributed the tranquillity which reigned in the Russian
camp to the tremendous losses they had suffered the previous day. 
This may have been part of the reason, but the main cause of
Wittgenstein's inactivity was that he expected the arrival, during
the coming night, of a strong division of infantry and several
squadrons of cavalry from St. Petersburg, and he had delayed his
attack until he had received this powerful reinforcement so that he
might the more easily defeat us on the day following.

Although the Polish nobles, the great landowners of the property
round Polotsk, did not dare to support us openly, they did so in
secret, and had no difficulty in providing us with spies. General
Saint-Cyr, uneasy at what was going on in the Russian camp, arranged
with one of these noblemen to have him send there one of his more
enlightened vassals. The landowner sent to the Russian camp several
cartloads of forage, and put amongst his carters his bailiff, dressed
as a peasant. This man, who was highly intelligent, learned by
chatting to Wittgenstein's soldiers that they were expecting a large
body of troops, and even witnessed the arrival of some Cossacks and
some cavalry, and was told that several battalions would arrive at
the camp around midnight. Having gathered this information, the
bailiff passed it to his master, who hurried to warn the commander of
the French forces.

When he heard this news, Saint-Cyr determined to strike at
Wittgenstein before the arrival of the expected reinforcements. But
as he did not want to be involved in a long drawn-out affair, he
warned his generals and corps commanders that he would not attack
until six in the evening, so that, as night would put an end to the
fighting, the Russians would be unable to exploit their success if
things went their way. It is true that if we were victorious we
would be unable to pursue the enemy in the dark, but Saint-Cyr had no
intention of doing this, and for the moment wanted only to teach
the Russians a lesson which would drive them away from Polotsk. As
the French general aimed at taking the Russians by surprise, he
ordered absolute calm to be maintained in the town and above all in
the lines of outposts.

The day seemed very long. Everyone, even the General, in spite of
his sang-froid, constantly looked at his watch. Having observed
that, on the previous day, the absence of the French cavalry had
allowed the Russians to drive our left wing almost into the Dvina,
General Saint-Cyr, shortly before the attack, moved all his
squadrons, in silence, into a position behind some big shops, on the
other side of which lay the meadowland. It was on this level ground
that the cavalry could manoeuvre to fall on the enemy right and give
cover to the left wing of our infantry, of which the first two
divisions were to attack the Russian camp while the third supported
the cavalry and the remaining two formed the reserve and protected
the town. All was ready when, at last, it was six o'clock, and the
signal for the attack was given by the firing of a cannon, followed
by a volley from all the French artillery, which landed numerous
projectiles on the enemy outposts and on the camp itself. At once
our two first infantry divisions, led by the 23rd Light, fell on the
Russian regiments positioned in the gardens, killing or capturing all
whom they encountered and chasing the rest back to the camp, where
they took many prisoners and captured several guns. This surprise
attack, although carried out in broad daylight, was so successful that
General Wittgenstein was dining peacefully in a little country house
near his camp when he was warned that French skirmishers were in the
court-yard. He jumped out of a window and, mounting a Cossack horse
which happened to be there, he galloped away to join his troops. Our
skirmishers took some fine horses, documents, baggage wagons and
wines belonging to the General, also the silverware and some of the
dinner laid on the table. An immense quantity of booty was seized in
the camp by other units.

At the sound of this wholly unforeseen attack by the French, panic
spread amongst our enemies, the majority of whom took to their heels
without even picking up their weapons. The disorder was complete; no
one was giving orders, even though the approach of our infantry was
heralded by a fusillade of shots and the sound of the drums beating
the charge. The scene seemed set for a resounding victory by the
French troops, at whose head marched Saint-Cyr with his customary
calm. However, in war an unexpected, and often unimportant, event
can change a situation.

A large number of the enemy soldiers had reached in their flight
the rear area of the camp, where was encamped the squadron of
horse-guards which had arrived a few hours previously. This élite
unit was made up of young men selected from the best of the nobility,
and was led by a major of proven courage, whose élan, it was said,
was increased by generous draughts of liquor. When he saw what was
happening, this officer leapt on his horse and, followed by some
hundred and twenty cuirassed riders, he rushed towards the French,
whom he soon encountered. The first of our battalions which he
attacked belonged to the 26th Light. They put up a vigourous
resistance. The cavalry were repelled with casualties, and were
rallying to prepare for a second charge when their Major, impatient
at the time taken for the scattered horsemen to regain their ranks,
abandoned the unsuccessful attack on the French battalion, and
ordering his men to follow he led them at the gallop in open order
through the camp, which was full of infantry, Portuguese, Swiss and
even Bavarians, our allies, some of whom, dispersed by the victory
itself, were trying to regroup while others were collecting the booty
left by the Russians.

The cavalrymen killed or wounded many of these soldiers and threw
the crowd into disarray. A disorderly withdrawal began which
degenerated into a mass panic. Now in a situation like this,
soldiers can mistake for the enemy their own troops who are running
to join them, so that, in a cloud of dust, it seems that they are
being attacked by a large force, when in most cases it is only a
handful of men. This is what happened here; the horse-guards,
scattered widely over the plain and pressing on without a backward
look, seemed to the fugitives to be a massive force of cavalry, and
so the confusion grew until it enveloped the Swiss battalion in the
middle of which General Saint-Cyr had taken refuge. He was so much
jostled by the mob that his horse fell into a ditch.

The General, who was clad in a simple blue greatcoat, without any
badges of rank, lay motionless on the ground as the cavalry drew
near, and they thinking he was either dead or only a humble civilian
employee, passed by and continued their pursuit of the fugitives. One
does not know how matters would have ended had not the gallant and
quick-witted General Berckheim, at the head of the 4th Cuirassiers,
charged down upon the Russian cavalry, who in spite of bravely
defending themselves, were almost all killed or made prisoner. Their
valiant Major was among the dead. The charge carried out by this
handful of men could have had a dramatic result if it had been
followed up, and this fine feat of arms goes to show once more that
it is unexpected attacks by cavalry that have the best chance of
success.

General Saint-Cyr, having been picked up by our Cuirassiers,
ordered all the infantry divisions to advance immediately and attack
the Russians before they could recover from their confusion. In this
they were successful and the enemy were decisively beaten, losing
many men and a number of guns.

While this infantry battle was taking place before Polotsk,
another action was under way on their left, in the open plain which
bordered the Dvina. As soon as the cannon shot gave the signal to
engage, our cavalry regiments, led by Castex's brigade, advanced
rapidly towards the enemy who, for their part, advanced towards us.

A major encounter seemed imminent, and the good General Castex
said that although in spite of my recent injury, I had been able to
command the regiment during the fighting round Sivotschina and
Svolna, where it had been solely a matter of facing the fire of the
infantry and the guns, it would not be the same today when in action
against cavalry. During a charge I would be unable to defend myself
since, with my one arm, I could not hold my horse's bridle and at the
same time use my sabre. He therefore urged me to remain behind on
this occasion, with the reserve division of infantry. I did not think
that I should accept this well-meaning advice, and I expressed so
vehemently my wish not to be removed from the regiment that the
General gave way, but he arranged for me to have behind me six of the
best cavalrymen, led by Sergeant Prud'homme, while at my side were
four warrant officers, a trumpeter and my orderly Fousse, one of the
finest soldiers in the regiment. Surrounded in this way, and placed
in front of the centre of a squadron, I was sufficiently protected;
besides, in an emergency, I would have dropped the reins to wield my
sabre, which hung by its sword-knot from my right wrist. 

The meadow was large enough to hold two regiments in battle order,
so the 23rd and the 24th advanced in line. General Corbineau's
brigade, consisting of three regiments was in the second line and the
Cuirassiers followed, in reserve. The 24th, which was on my left,
faced a body of Russian dragoons, while I was opposed to the Cossacks
of the Guard, recognisable by the red colour of their jackets and the
fine quality of their horses which, although they had arrived only a
few hours ago, did not appear in the least tired. We moved forward at
the gallop, and when we were at a suitable distance from the enemy,
General Castex ordered the charge and his whole brigade fell in one
line on the Russians. By the violence of this attack, the 24th
overwhelmed the dragoons who opposed them, but my regiment
experienced more resistance from the Cossacks, a chosen band of men
of superior stature and each armed with a 14 foot lance which he
well knew how to use. Some of my Chasseurs were killed and many
wounded, but once my gallant troopers had broken through this line
bristling with steel, they had the advantage, for the long lances are
ineffective against cavalry when those carrying them are
disorganised and closely engaged by adversaries who are armed with
sabres which they can use with ease, while the lancers have great
difficulty in presenting the point of their weapons. Thus the
Cossacks were forced to turn their backs, whereupon my men
slaughtered many of them and captured a large number of splendid
horses. 

We were about to follow up this success when our attention was
drawn to a great tumult on our right, where we saw the plain covered
with fugitives, for this was the moment when the Russian
Chevalier-Gardes made their desperate attack. General Castex,
thinking it would be unwise to advance any further when our centre
appeared to be retreating in disorder, called for the rally to be
sounded and the brigade came to a halt.

We had,however, scarcely re-formed our ranks when the Cossacks,
emboldened by what was going on in the centre and burning to avenge
their previous defeat, charged back on the attack and hurled
themselves furiously on my squadrons, while the Grodno Hussars
attacked the 24th. The Russians, driven back at every point by
Castex's brigade, brought up successively their second and third
line, whereupon General Corbineau came to our assistance with the 7th
and 20th Chasseurs and the 8th Lancers, and there ensued a great
cavalry battle, the outcome of which hung in the balance. Both our
own and the Russian Cuirassiers were advancing to join in when
Wittgenstein, seeing his infantry beaten and hard pressed by ours,
sent word to his cavalry to retire. They, however, were too hotly
engaged for this command to be easily executed. In the event,
Generals Castex and Corbineau, knowing that they would be supported
by the Cuirassiers who were close behind them, committed in turn both
their brigades against the Russians who were thrown into the greatest
disorder and suffered heavy casualties. 

On arriving at the other side of the wood where our victorious
infantry and cavalry divisions were regrouping, General Saint-Cyr,
seeing that night was approaching, called off the pursuit, and the
troops returned to their bivouacs at Polotsk, which they had quitted
a few hours earlier. During the fighting my wound had given me much
pain, particularly when I had to gallop my horse. My inability to
defend myself often put me in a difficult situation in which I might
not have survived had I not been surrounded by a group of stalwarts
who never let me out of their sight. 

On one occasion, amongst others, I was pushed by the mob of
combatants into a group of Cossacks, where to save myself I had to
let go of the bridle and take up my sabre. I had, however, no need
to use it, for seeing their commanding officer in danger, all ranks of
my escort furiously attacked the Cossacks who were now surrounding
me, laid several of them in the dust and put the rest to flight. My
orderly Fousse, the finest of Chasseurs, killed three of them and
Warrant Officer Joly two. So I came back safe and sound from this
action, in which I had been determined to take part in order to
encourage the regiment, and to show them afresh that as long as I
could mount a horse it would be my honour to lead them when danger
threatened. Both the officers and men of the regiment appreciated
this, and the affection with which I was already regarded by them was
increased, as you will see later, when I speak of the misfortunes of
the great retreat. 

Combat between cavalry units is infinitely less murderous than
that involving the infantry, also the Russians are as a rule
maladroit in the handling of their weapons, and their incompetent
leaders do not always know how to employ their cavalry to best
advantage. So that although my regiment was fighting the Cossacks of
the Guard, considered one of the finest units in the Russian army, we
did not suffer a great many casualties. I had eight or nine men
killed and some thirty wounded; but amongst those last was Major
Fontaine. This very fine officer was in the thick of the fighting
when his horse was killed; his feet were entangled in the stirrups
and he was trying to free himself with the help of some Chasseurs who
had gone to help him when a Cossack officer, bursting through the
group at the gallop, leaned dexterously from his saddle and dealt
Fontaine a terrible sabre slash which blinded his left eye, damaged
the other and split open his nose. However, as the Russian officer,
proud of this exploit, was leaving the scene, one of our Chasseurs
shot him in the back at six paces, so avenging his squadron
commander. As soon as possible M. Fontaine's injury was dressed and
he was taken to Polotsk to the Jesuit monastery, where I visited him
that same evening. I admired the resignation with which this
courageous soldier bore the pain and disability of becoming almost
completely blind, since which time he has not been able to continue
in active service. This was a great loss for the 23rd, in which he
had been since its creation, liked and respected by all; I was much
moved by his misfortune. 

I was now the only senior officer in the regiment and I had to see
to all the requirements of the service, which was a major task. 

You may think that I have gone into too much detail about
the various actions in which 2nd Corps was involved, but as I have
said, I enjoy recalling the great conflicts in which I have taken
part, and speak of these times with pleasure, for it then seems to me
that I am once more in the field, surrounded by my brave companions,
almost all of whom have now, alas, quitted this life. 

To return to the present campaign: anyone but Saint-Cyr, after
such a hard-fought action would have reviewed his troops to
congratulate them on their success and enquire into their needs. 
Scarcely, however, had the last shot been fired, when Saint-Cyr shut
himself up in the Jesuit monastery and spent all his days and part of
the night playing his violin...a ruling passion from which only
marching to attack the enemy could distract him. Generals Lorencez
and Wrède, given the task of deploying the troops, sent two divisions
of infantry and the Cuirassiers to the left bank of the Dvina. The
third French division and the Bavarians stayed in Polotsk, where they
were employed to build the fortifications of a vast entrenched camp,
before acting as a support to the troops which from this important
point were covering the left and rear of the "Grande Armee" on its
march to Smolensk and on to Moscow. The light cavalry brigades of
Castex and Corbineau were positioned two leagues in front of this
camp, on the left bank of the Polota, a little river which joins the
Dvina at Polotsk. My regiment went into bivouac near a village called
Louchonski. The colonel of the 24th set up his a quarter of a league
to the rear, covered by the 23rd. We stayed there for two months,
during the first of which we did not go very far. When he heard of
the victory won at Polotsk by Saint-Cyr, the Emperor sent him the
baton of Imperial Marshal. Instead of using the occasion to visit
his troops, the new Marshal retired into even deeper seclusion, if
that were possible. No one could approach the head of the army,
which earned him the nick-name amongst the soldiers of the "Owl."
More than this, although the huge monastery had more than a hundred
rooms which would have been most useful for the wounded, he lived
there alone, and considered it a great concession that he allowed
senior officers who were wounded to be received in the outhouses. 
They were allowed to remain there for forty-eight hours, after which
their comrades had to take them to the town. The cellars and
granaries of the monastery were bursting with provisions amassed by
the Jesuits; wine, beer oil, flour, etc., all were there in abundance;
but the Marshal had taken charge of the keys of the store-rooms and
nothing came from them, even for the hospitals. It was with the
greatest difficulty that I obtained two bottles of wine for the
injured Fontaine. The extraordinary thing was that the Marshal used
hardly any of these provisions for himself, for he was a man of
extreme sobriety, but also highly eccentric. The army complained
loudly about his behaviour,and those same provisions which he refused
to distribute to his troops were, two months later, consumed by
flames and the Russians, when the French were forced to abandon the
burning monastery and town.

Chap. 12.

While all this was going on at Polotsk and on the banks of the
Drissa, the Emperor remained at Witepsk, from where he exercised
overall control of the operations of the numerous units of the army. 
There are those who have reproached Napoleon with wasting too much
time, first at Wilna, where he stayed for nineteen days, and then at
Witepsk where he stayed for seventeen. They claim that these
thirty-six days could have been better employed, particularly in a
country where the summer is very short, and the rigours of winter
begin to be felt about the end of September. This claim has some
justice up to a point, but it should be remembered, firstly that the
Emperor hoped that the Russians would request some compromise, and in
the second place that it was necessary to concentrate once more all
the units which had been scattered in the pursuit of Bagration. In
addition, it was essential to give some rest to the troops, who as
well as their regular marches had to scour the countryside each
evening, far from their bivouacs, in a search for food; because the
Russians having burned all the stores as they retreated, it was
impossible to make any daily distribution of rations. There was,
however, for a long time a happy exception to this state of affairs,
in the case of Davout's Corps. Davout was as good an administrator as
he was a fighting soldier, and well before the crossing of the Nieman
he had organised an immense convoy of little carts which followed his
army. These carts carried biscuits, salted meat and vegetables and
were drawn by oxen, a number of which could be slaughtered daily to
provide food. This arrangement contributed greatly to keeping his
men from straying from their ranks.

The Emperor left Witepsk on the 13th August, and moving further
and further away from 2nd and 6th Corps, which he left at Polotsk
under the command of Saint-Cyr, he went to Krasnoe, where a part of
the Grande Armée faced the enemy. It was hoped that there would be a
battle, but all that took place was a minor action against the
Russian rear-guard, which was defeated and promptly withdrew.
On the 15th of August, his birthday, the Emperor reviewed his
troops, who welcomed him with enthusiasm. On the 16th the army
reached Smolensk, a fortified town which the Russians call the holy
of holies because they consider it to be the key to Moscow and the
palladium of their empire. Ancient prophecies foretold disaster to
Russia the day Smolensk was taken. This superstition, carefully
nurtured by the government, dates from the time when Smolensk, 
situated on the Dnieper, was the furthest Muscovite frontier, from
where they issued to make enormous conquests.

Murat and Ney, who were the first two to arrive before Smolensk,
both thought, for some unknown reason, that the Russians had
abandoned the place. The reports given to the Emperor having
convinced him that this was the case, he ordered that the
advance-guard should be sent into the town. The impatient Ney was
waiting only for this command. He advanced toward the town gate
escorted by a small body of Hussars, but suddenly a regiment of
Cossacks, hidden by a fold in the ground covered by scrub, fell on
our riders, drew them off, and surrounded Marshal Ney, who was so hard
pressed that a pistol shot fired at point blank range tore the
collar of his coat. Fortunately the Domanget brigade hurried to the
spot and freed the Marshal. The arrival of General Razout's infantry
enabled Ney to get close enough to the town to convince himself that
the Russians intended to defend it.

Seeing the ramparts armed with a great number of cannon, the
artillery general, Éblé, a highly competent officer, advised the
Emperor to by-pass the place by sending the Polish Corps commanded by
Prince Poniatowski to cross the Dnieper two leagues further upstream;
but Napoleon, accepting the advice of Ney, who assured him that
Smolensk would be easily captured, gave the order to attack. Three
army Corps, those of Davout, Ney and Poniatowski, launched an assault
on the town from different directions. A murderous fire was poured
down on them from the ramparts, and one even more deadly came from
the batteries which the Russians had established on the opposite bank
of the river. A most bloody struggle ensued; bullets, grape-shot and
bombs decimated our troops, without the artillery being able to
breach the walls. At last, as night was approaching, the enemy, who
had bravely disputed every foot of ground, were driven back into the
town itself, which they now prepared to abandon. Before they did so,
however, they set all of it on fire. The Emperor thus saw an end to
his hopes of capturing a town which was rightly supposed to be full
of supplies. It was not until dawn the next day that the French
entered the place, the streets of which were strewn with the dead
bodies of Russians and smoking debris. The taking of Smolensk had
cost us 12,000 men killed or wounded, an enormous loss which could
have been avoided by crossing the Dnieper upstream, as had been
proposed by General Éblé; for, seeing himself at risk of being cut
off, General Barclay de Tolly, the enemy commander, would have
evacuated the place and retired towards Moscow.

The Russians, after burning the bridge, halted for a short time on
the heights of the right bank and then resumed their retreat on the
road to Moscow. Marshal Ney followed them with his army corps
reinforced by Gudin's division, which was detached from Davout's
corps.

Not far from Smolensk, Marshal Ney caught up with the Russians as
they passed, with all their baggage, through a narrow defile. A
major engagement took place which could have been disasterous for the
enemy if General Junot, who commanded 8th Corps, and who had been
slow in crossing the Dnieper, two leagues above Smolensk, and who had
then halted for forty-eight hours, had hastened to the sound of Ney's
guns, which were no more than a league away. Although informed of
the situation by Ney, Junot did not budge. He was then ordered in
the name of the Emperor to come to the assistance of Ney, but still
he did not move.

Ney, facing greatly superior numbers, having engaged successively
all the troops of his Corps, ordered Gudin's division to take some
strong positions held by the Russians. This order was executed with
the greatest alacrity, but in the first wave the brave general fell
mortally wounded. However, retaining his usual calm, and wishing to
assure the success of the troops which he had so often led to
victory, he appointed General Gérard to take over the command,
although he was the most junior brigade commander in the division.

Gérard, at the head of the division attacked the enemy, and by ten
in the evening, after losing 1800 men and killing some six thousand,
he was master of the field of battle, from which the Russians made a
hasty departure.

The next day the Emperor came to visit the troops who had fought
so bravely; he rewarded them generously and promoted Gérard to the
rank of divisional general. Gudin died a few hours later.

If Junot had taken part in the action, he could have trapped the
Russians in a narrow defile when, caught between two fires, they
would have been forced to surrender, and thus brought the war to an
end. One regretted the departure of King Jérôme, whom Junot had
replaced, for although a mediocre general, he would probably have
gone to help Ney, and we expected to see Junot severely punished; but
he was one of Napoleon's earliest adherents and had supported him in
all his campaigns, from the siege of Toulon in '93 to the present. 
The Emperor was fond of him and he forgave him. This was a pity, for
it was becoming necessary to make an example.

When the Russian people heard of the fall of Smolensk, there was a
general outcry against Barclay de Tolly. He was a German; the nation
accused him of not putting enough effort into the war, and for the
defence of ancient Muscovy they demanded a Muscovite general.
Compelled to give way, Alexander handed the command of all the
Russian armies to General Koutousoff, an elderly man of little
ability, renowned only for his defeat at Austerlitz, but having the
great merit, in the circumstances, of being an out and out Russian,
which gave him a considerable influence in the eyes of the troops and
the populace at large.

The French advance-guard, driving the enemy before it, had already
passed Dorogobouje when, on the 24th of August, the Emperor decided
to leave Smolensk. The heat was stifling; we marched on loose sand;
there was insufficient food for such a large body of men and horses,
for the Russians left nothing behind them but burning farms and
villages. When the army entered Vyazma, this pretty town was in
flames, and it was the same at Gzhatzk. The nearer we got to Moscow
the fewer resources the countryside had to offer. Several men died
and many horses. A few days later, the intolerable heat was succeeded
by a cold rain which lasted until the 4th of September; autumn was
approaching. The army was no more than six leagues from Mojaisk, the
last town we had to take before reaching Moscow, when it was noticed
that the strength of the enemy rear-guard had been considerably
increased; an indication that a major battle was at last in prospect.

On the 5th, our advance-guard was briefly held up by a large
Russian column, well entrenched on a small hill, garnished with a
dozen guns. The 57th line regiment, which in the Italian campaign the
Emperor had named the "Terrible", worthily upheld its reputation in
capturing the redout and the enemy guns. We were already on the
terrain upon which, forty-eight hours later, would be fought the
battle which the Russians call Borodino and the French Moscow.

On the 6th, the Emperor announced in an order of the day that
there would be a battle on the day following. The army welcomed this
announcement with pleasure in the hope that it would mean an end to
their privations, for there had been no supply of rations for a
month, and everyone had lived from hand to mouth. On both sides the
evening was employed in taking up positions of readiness.

On the Russian side, Bagration, commanding 62,000 men was on the
left wing; in the centre was the Hetman Platov with his Cossacks and
30,000 infantry in reserve; the right was made up of 70,000 men under
the command of Barclay de Tolly, who was now the second in command,
while the elderly General Koutousoff was the overall commander of all
these troops, amounting to 162,000 men. The Emperor Napoleon had no
more than 140,000, who were disposed as follows: Prince Eugène
commanded the left wing, Marshal Davout the right, Marshal Ney the
centre, King Murat the cavalry, while the Imperial Guard was in
reserve.

The battle took place on the 7th of September; the weather was
overcast and a cold wind raised clouds of dust. The Emperor, who was
suffering from severe migraine, went down into a sort of ravine,
where he spent the greater part of the day walking on foot. From this
spot he could see only part of the battlefield, and to see its
entirety he had to climb a nearby hillock, which he did only twice
during the action. The Emperor has been blamed for his lack of
activity, but it should be borne in mind that in the central position
which he occupied with his reserves, he was able to receive frequent
reports of events occurring at all points of the line, whereas if he
had been on one wing or the other, the aides-de-camp, hurrying with
urgent information over such broken ground, might not have been able
to see him or known where to look for him. And it must not be
forgotten that the Emperor was ill and a strong and glacial wind
prevented him from remaining on horseback.

I took no part in the battle of Moscow, so I shall refrain from
going into any detail about the various manoeuvres carried out during
this memorable action. I shall say only that after almost unheard of
efforts the French succeeded in overcoming the most obstinate
resistance of the Russians, and that the battle was one of the most
bloody fought during the century. The two armies suffered casualties
to a total of 50,000 dead or wounded. The French had 49 generals
killed or wounded and 20,000 men put out of action. The Russian
losses were a third greater. General Bagration, the best of their
officers was killed, and by a bizarre turn of fate he happened to be
the owner of the land on which the battle was fought. Twelve
thousand horses were left on the field. The French took few
prisoners, an indication of the courage and determination of the
Russian resistance.

During the action there were several interesting episodes. When
the Russian left had been twice driven back by the supreme efforts of
Murat, Davout and Ney and had yet rallied for the third time and
returned to the charge, Murat asked General Belliard to beg the
Emperor to send part of his guard to secure a victory, failing which
it would be necessary to fight another battle to beat the Russians. 
Napoleon was inclined to comply with this request, but Marshal
Bessières, commandant of the Guard said to him "I shall permit myself
to remind your majesty that you are at this moment some seven hundred
leagues from France." Whether it was this observation or whether the
Emperor thought that the battle had not reached the stage when he
should commit his reserve, he refused the request. Two other demands
of this kind met the same fate.

There was another remarkable incident which occurred in this
battle so full of gallant deeds. The enemy front was covered by some
high ground on which were redouts and redans and in particular, a
crenelated fort armed with 80 guns. The French, after considerable
losses, had gained control of these field works but had not been able
to retain the fort, and to regain it would be a very difficult task
even for infantry. General Montbrun, who commanded the 2nd Cavalry
Corps, had noticed, with the help of his field-glass, that the gate
of the fort was not closed and that platoons of Russian soldiers were
going through it. He also noticed that if one went round the side of
the high ground, one could avoid the ramparts, ravines and rocks and
lead a cavalry unit to the gate up a gentle slope, suited to horses.
General Montbrun proposed to get into the fort with his cavalry from
the rear, while the infantry attacked the front. This hazardous
operation having been approved by Murat and the Emperor, Montbrun was
entrusted with its execution; but while the intrepid general was
finalising his plan, he was killed by a cannon-ball. This was a
great loss for the army, but it did not put an end to the project he
had conceived, and the Emperor sent General Coulincourt to replace
him.

One now saw something unheard of in the annals of war: a huge
fort defended by numerous guns and several battalions of infantry
attacked and taken by a column of cavalry. Coulincourt pressing
ahead with a division of Cuirassiers, headed by their 5th regiment
commanded by Colonel Christophe, broke through all those defending
the approach to the fort, reached the gate, entered the interior and
fell dead with a bullet through his head. Colonel Christophe and his
troopers avenged their general by putting part of the garrison to the
sword. The fort remained in their hands, which helped to assure a
French victory.

Today, when the thirst for promotion has become insatiable, one
would be astonished if, after such a feat, a colonel was not
promoted; but during the Empire ambition was more modest. Christophe
did not become a general until some years later, and never showed any
discontent with this delay.

The Poles, usually so courageous, particularly those from the
Grand Duchy of Warsaw commanded by Prince Poniatovski, fought so
badly that the Emperor sent his major general to upbraid them. In
this battle of Moscow, General Rapp was wounded for the twenty-first
time.

Although the Russians had been defeated and forced to leave the
field of battle, their generalissimo, Koutousoff, had the impudence
to write to the Emperor Alexander, claiming that he had just won a
great victory over the French. This falsehood, which arrived in
St. Petersburg on Alexander's birthday, gave rise to much
rejoicing. A Te Deum was sung and Koutousoff was promoted to
field-marshal. However it was not long before the truth was known
and the joy turned to grief; but Koutousoff was now a field-marshal,
which was what he wanted. Anyone but the timid Alexander would have
severely punished the new field-marshal for this outrageous lie; but
Koutousoff was needed, and so he remained head of the army.

Chap. 13.

The Russians, retreating towards Moscow, were contacted on the
morning of the eighth, when there was a sharp cavalry engagement in
which General Belliard was wounded. Napoleon spent three days at
Mojaisk, partly to draw up the orders necessary in the circumstances
and partly to reply to the back-log of despatches. One of these,
which had arrived on the eve of the battle, had affected him greatly
and had contributed to making him ill, for it announced that the
so-called army of Portugal, commanded by Marshal Marmont, had
suffered a severe defeat at Arpiles, near Salamanca, in Spain.

Marmont was one of Napoleon's mistakes. He had been one of
Napoleon's companions at the college of Brienne and later in the
artillery, and Napoleon took an interest in him. Misled by some
success achieved by Marmont at school, the Emperor had a belief in
the Marshal's military talents which his performance in the field
never justified. In 1811, Marmont had replaced Masséna as commander
of the army of Portugal, proclaiming that he would defeat Wellington,
but the contrary proved to be the case. Marmont, defeated, wounded,
with his army in disarray and obliged to abandon several provinces,
would have suffered even worse reverses if General Clausel had not
come to his aid.

When he learned of this disaster, the Emperor must have reflected
deeply on the present operation, for while he was about to enter
Moscow at the head of his largest army, a thousand leagues away
another army had just been defeated. By invading Russia was he about
to lose Spain? Major Fabvier, who brought this despatch, volunteered
to join in the battle for Moscow and was wounded in the assault on
the great redout. It was a long way to come to be hit by a bullet.

On the 12th of September Napoleon left Mojaisk, and on the 15th
he entered Moscow. This enormous city was deserted. General
Rostopschine, its governor, had forced all the inhabitants to leave. 
This Rostopschine, whom some have described as a hero, was a
barbarian, who would shrink from nothing to achieve his aims. He had
allowed the populace to strangle a number of foreign merchants,
mainly the French, who were living in Moscow, on the sole grounds
that they were suspected of hoping for the arrival of Napoleon's
troops. Some days before the battle of Moscow, the Cossacks having
captured about a hundred sick Frenchmen, Koutousoff sent them by a
roundabout road to the governor of Moscow, who, regardless of their
condition, left them for forty-eight hours without food and then
paraded them triumphantly through the streets, where a number of
these unfortunates collapsed and died of starvation. As this was
happening, policemen read to the populace a proclamation by
Rostopschine in which, to encourage them to take up arms, he declared
that all the French were in a similar feeble state and would be
easily overcome. When this disgusting performance was over, the
majority of the soldiers still alive were killed by the mob, without
Rostopschine doing anything to protect them.

The defeated Russian troops had only passed through Moscow, and
had gone to re-group some thirty leagues from there, around Kalouga. 
Murat followed them with all his cavalry and several infantry corps. 
The Imperial Guard stayed in the town and Napoleon took up residence
in the Kremlin, the ancient fortified palace of the Czars. 
Everything seemed peaceful, when, during the night 15th-16th
September, some French and German merchants who had escaped the
governor's attentions came to warn Napoleon's staff that the city
was to be set on fire. This information was confirmed by a Russian
policeman, who refused to carry out the orders of his superiors: he
stated that before leaving Moscow, Rostopschine had thrown open all
the prisons and released the prisoners and convicts, to whom he had
given torches said to have been supplied by the British, and that
these persons were lying hidden in the abandoned houses waiting for
the signal. When the Emperor heard of this he instituted the
strictest precautionary measures. Patrols went about the streets and
killed a number of those caught setting fires alight, but it was too
late; fire broke out in various parts of the city and spread rapidly
owing to the fact that Rostopschine had taken away all the
fire-fighting equipment. It was not long before the whole of Moscow
was ablaze. The Emperor left the Kremlin and went to the château of
Peterskoe. He did not return until three days later, when the fire
was beginning to subside for lack of fuel. I shall not go into any
details about the fire itself, as there are several eye-witness
accounts, but later I shall examine the consequences of this
catastrophic conflagration.

Napoleon, who did not understand the position in which Alexander
found himself, hoped always for some accommodation and eventually,
tired of waiting, he decided to write to him personally. In the
meantime the Russian army was being reorganised in the area of
Kalouga, from where agents were sent to direct stray soldiers back to
their units. It was estimated that there were about 15,000 of them
concealed in the suburbs and able to wander about our bivouacs
without being challenged. They sat round the fires with our men and
ate with them, yet no one thought of making them prisoners. This was
a great mistake, for they gradually returned to the Russian army,
while our strength diminished daily owing to sickness and the
increasing cold. We lost an enormous number of horses, which was
thought due to the extraordinary efforts demanded by Murat from the
cavalry, of which he was the commander. Murat, recalling the
brilliant successes obtained against the Prussians in 1806 and 1807
by pursuing them closely, thought that the cavalry should be equal to
any demands and should march twelve to fifteen leagues a day without
worrying about the fatigue of the horses, the essential being to
reach the enemy with at least some of the columns. However the
climate, the shortage of rations and fodder, the long duration of the
campaign and above all the tenacious resistance of the Russians had
greatly changed the situation, so that by the time we reached Moscow,
half our cavalrymen had no horses, and Murat managed to finish off
the rest at Kalouga. Prince Murat was proud of his tall stature and
his bravery; and being always decked out in strange but brilliant
uniforms, he had attracted the notice of the enemy, with whom he was
pleased to parley, even exchanging gifts with the Cossack officers. 
Koutousoff took advantage of these meetings to encourage in the
French the false hopes of a peace, hopes which Murat passed on to the
Emperor. One day, however, this enemy who claimed to be so weakened,
arose, slipped into our cantonments and captured some supplies, a
squadron of dragoons and a battalion of troops. After this Napoleon
forbade, under pain of death, any communication with the Russians
which he had not authorised.

The Emperor never entirely lost hope of concluding a peace, on the
4th of October he sent General Lauriston, his aide-de-camp, to
General Koutousoff's headquarters. The cunning Russian showed General
Lauriston a letter which he had addressed to the Emperor Alexander,
urging him to agree to the French proposals, seeing that, as he
alleged, the Russian army was in no state to continue the war. The
officer carrying this despatch had hardly left for St. Petersburg,
armed with a pass from Lauriston which would preserve him from attack
by any of our men who were in the area between the two armies, when
Koutousoff sent off a second aide-de-camp to his Emperor. This
officer, having no French laissez-passer, was stopped by one of our
patrols, taken prisoner and his despatches sent to Napoleon. The
contents were the exact opposite to what had been shown to Lauriston.
After imploring his sovereign not to treat with the French, he
informed him that Admiral Tchitchakoff's army, freed from its duties
on the frontier by the peace with Turkey, was moving towards Minsk in
order to cut the French line of retreat. He also told Alexander of
the discussions he had conducted freely with Murat, with the aim of
encouraging the false sense of security entertained by the French in
remaining in Moscow so late in the year.

When he saw this letter, Napoleon, realising that he had been
tricked, fell into a furious rage, and is said to have contemplated
marching on St. Petersburg; but beyond the diminished strength of
the army and the rigours of the winter, which militated against such
an undertaking, there were pressing reasons for the Emperor to get
closer to Germany, in order to watch over that country and to see
what was going on in France, where there had been a conspiracy whose
leaders had been, for one day, in control of the capital. A fanatic,
General Malet, had tossed a spark into Paris which could have started
a fire, which, had he not encountered a man as far-seeing and
energetic as Adjutant-major Laborde, might have put an end to the
imperial government.

This was not heartening, and one can imagine the anxiety of
Napoleon when he learned of the danger which had threatened his
family and his government.

Chap. 14.

In Moscow, Napoleon's position grew worse daily. The cold was
already bitter and only the French-born soldiers maintained their
morale, but they composed no more than half the force which Napoleon
had led into Russia. The remainder was made up of Germans, Swiss,
Croats, Lombards, Romanians, Piedmontais, Spaniards, and Portuguese. 
All these foreigners, who stayed loyal as long as the army was
successful, now began to complain and, led astray by the leaflets in
various languages which the Russians spread widely through our
camps, they deserted in droves to the enemy, who promised to
repatriate them.

Added to this, the two wings of the Grande Armée, which consisted
entirely of Austrians and Prussians, were now no longer in line with
the centre as they had been at the beginning of the campaign, but
were in our rear, ready to bar our way on the first command of their
sovereigns, ancient and irreconcilable enemies of France. The
position was critical, and although it would greatly hurt Napoleon's
pride to display to the whole world that he had failed in his
objective of imposing a peace on Alexander, the word "retreat" was at
last uttered. But neither the Emperor nor the marshals nor anyone
else thought of abandoning Russia and recrossing the Nieman; the idea
was to go into winter quarters in the least unpleasant of the Polish
provinces.

The evacuation of Moscow was agreed on in principle, but before
taking this step, Napoleon, in a last endeavour to obtain a
settlement, sent an emissary to Marshal Koutousoff, who did not make
any response.

During these delays our army was melting away, day by day, and in
blind overconfidence our outposts remained at risk in the province of
Kalouga in untactical positions, when suddenly a wholly unforeseen
event occurred which opened the eyes of the most incredulous and
destroyed any illusions which the Emperor still had of achieving
peace.

General Sébastiani, whom we saw allowing himself to be surprised
at Drouia, had replaced General Montbrun as commander of the 2nd
Cavalry Corps and, although close to the enemy, he spent his days in
his slippers, reading Italian poetry and carrying out no
reconnaissance. Taking advantage of this negligence, Koutousoff
attacked Sébastiani on the 18th of October, surrounded him and
overwhelmed him by numbers, forcing him to abandon part of his
artillery. Sébastiani's three divisions of cavalry, separated from
the rest of Murat's troops, were able to rejoin them only after
fighting their way through several enemy battalions who stood in
their way. In the course of this savage combat, Sébastiani displayed
his valour, for he was a brave man, if a noticeably mediocre general,
something which will be demonstrated anew when we come to the
campaign of 1813.

At the same time as he surprised Sébastiani, Koutousoff ordered an
attack on Murat's lines, in which the Prince was slightly wounded. 
Having learned of this unsatisfactory affair, and on the same day
been told of the arrival in the enemy camp of a reinforcement of ten
thousand cavalry from the Russian army in Wallachia (The Russian
border with the Turks, in southern Romania. Ed.) which the Austrians,
our allies, had allowed to pass, the Emperor gave the order for the
departure to begin on the following day.

In the morning of the 19th of October, the Emperor left Moscow,
which he had entered on the 15th of September. His Majesty, the old
guard and the bulk of the army took the road to Kalouga; Marshal
Mortier and two divisions of the Young Guard remained behind for
twenty-four hours to complete the destruction of the city and blow up
the Kremlin, after which they brought up the rear of the march.

The army trailed behind it more than forty thousand carriages, which
caused an obstruction whenever the road narrowed. When this was
remarked on to the Emperor, he replied that each of these coaches
could carry two wounded men and food for several, and that their
number would gradually diminish. The employment of this
philanthropic system could, I think, be objected to, on the grounds
that the need to speed the march of a retreating army seems to me to
outweigh all other considerations.

During the French occupation of Moscow, Murat and the cavalry
corps had been stationed in part of the fertile province of Kalouga,
but without seizing the town of that name. The Emperor wished to
avoid passing through the area of the battle of Moscow (Borodino) and
down the road to Mojaisk, which had been stripped of resources by the
army on its approach to Moscow; and for this reason he took the road
to Kalouga, from where he counted on getting to Smolensk through
fertile and, as it were, unspoiled country. But at the end of several
day's march, the army, which after joining with Murat's force
amounted, still, to more than 100,000 men, found itself confronting
the Russian army which occupied the little town of Malo-Iaroslawetz. 
The enemy was in an exceedingly strong position; nevertheless the
Emperor sent into the attack Prince Eugène, at the head of the
Italian Corps and the French divisions of Morand and Gerard. Nothing
could stand in the way of these men and they took the town after a
long and murderous fight which cost us 4000 killed or wounded. Among
the dead was General Delzons, a very fine officer.

The next day, the 24th of October, the Emperor, surprised at the
degree of resistance he had encountered, and knowing that the whole
Russian army barred his way, halted the march and spent three days
considering what course he should follow.

On one occasion, during a reconnaissance of the enemy line,
the Emperor nearly fell into their hands. There was a very thick fog,
and suddenly shouts of "Hourra! Hourra!" were heard. It was a group
of Cossacks who were emerging from a wood bordering the road, which
they had been going through not twenty paces from the Emperor,
knocking down and spearing anyone that they came across: but General
Rapp rushed forward with the two squadrons of Chasseurs and mounted
Grenadiers which went everywhere with the Emperor who, wielding their
sabres, put the enemies to flight. It was during this encounter that
M. Le Couteulx, my former companion on the staff of Marshal Lannes,
and now an aide-de-camp to Prince Berthier, having armed himself with
the lance belonging to a Cossack whom he had killed, was unwise
enough to come back brandishing this weapon, and, furthermore,
dressed in a pelisse and a fur hat, which concealed the French
uniform. A mounted Grenadier of the Guard mistook him for a Cossack
officer, and seeing him heading towards the Emperor, went after him
and slashed him across the body with his heavy sabre. In spite of
this serious wound, M. Le Couteulx, placed in one of the Emperor's
carriages, survived the cold and the exhaustion of the retreat, and
managed to reach France.

The reconnaissance carried out by the Emperor had convinced him
that it would be impossible to continue his march towards Kalouga
without fighting a sanguinary battle against the large force
commanded by Koutousoff. He decided, therefore, to reach Smolensk by
taking the road leading through Mojaisk. The army then left the
fertile countryside to take once more the now devastated route along
which, marking their passage with fires and dead bodies, they had
travelled in September. This movement by the Emperor left him, after
ten weary days, no more than twelve leagues from Moscow, and caused
the troops to feel increasing anxiety about the future. The weather
turned much worse; Marshal Mortier rejoined the Emperor after having
blown up the Kremlin.

The army saw once more Mojaisk and the battlefield of Borodino. 
The ground, furrowed by cannon-balls, was covered with the debris of
helmets, cuirasses, wheels, weapons, fragments of uniform and thirty
thousand bodies, partly eaten by wolves. The Emperor and the troops
passed by quickly, casting a sad look at this immense graveyard.

After they had reached Vyazma the snow began to fall and a bitter
wind to blow, which slowed their progress. Many of the vehicles were
abandoned, and some thousands of men and horses perished of cold by
the roadside. The flesh of the horses provided some nourishment for
the men and also for the officers. The command of the rearguard
passed successively from Davout to Prince Eugène and finally to
Marshal Ney, who kept this unpleasant job for the rest of the
campaign.

Smolensk was reached on the 1st of November. The Emperor had
arranged for a great quantity of food clothing and footwear to be
collected there, but those in charge of these supplies did not
realise the state of disorganisation into which the army had fallen,
and insisted on the paperwork and formalities of a normal
distribution. This delay so exasperated the men, who were dying of
cold and hunger, that they broke into the stores and took, forcibly,
whatever they could. With the result that some had too much, some
enough and some nothing.

As long as the troops had maintained a proper order of march, the
mixture of nationalities had given rise to no more than minor
inconveniences, but once fatigue and privation had broken the ranks,
discipline was lost. There was no way in which it could be maintained
in a vast body of isolated individuals, lacking every necessity,
walking on their own, without understanding why; for in this
disorderly mass there ruled a veritable babel of tongues. A few
regiments, mainly those in the Guard, held together. Almost all the
troopers of the cavalry, having lost their horses, were formed into
infantry battalions, and those of their officers who still were
mounted were made into special squadrons, commanded by Generals
Latour-Mauberg, Grouchy and Sébastiani, who acted as ordinary
captains, while brigade commanders and colonels filled the post of
sergeant and corporal. This resort alone, shows to what extremity
the army was reduced.

In this critical position, the Emperor had counted on a strong
division of troops of all arms, which General Baraguey d'Hilliers was
supposed to bring to Smolensk; but, as we neared the town, we heard
the General had laid down his arms before a Russian column, with the
provision that he alone would not be made prisoner and would be
allowed to rejoin the French army in order to explain his actions. 
The Emperor, however, refused to see Baraguey d'Hilliers and ordered
him to return to France and to consider himself under arrest until he
was brought before a court-martial. Baraguey d'Hilliers avoided
court-martial by dying in Berlin, it was said, of despair.

This General was another of Napoleon's mistakes. He had been
impressed by him at the time of the encampments at Boulogne when he
had promised that he could train dragoons to serve either as cavalry
or infantry. However, when this system was tried out in 1805, during
the Austrian campaign, the Dragoons, now on foot and commanded by
Baraguey d'Hilliers in person, were defeated at Wertingen before the
eyes of the Emperor, and when placed once more on horseback, they
once more suffered the same fate. It was several years before the
unit recovered from the effects of this experiment. The originator
of the system, having fallen from favour and hoping to re-establish
himself by asking to come to Russia, had completed his downfall by
capitulating without a struggle, and violating a decree stating that
a commander forced to surrender should accompany his men into
captivity, and forbidding him from negotiating terms favourable only
to himself.

After spending several days at Smolensk to allow stragglers to
catch up with him, the Emperor went to Krasnoe, from where he
despatched an officer to 2nd Corps, which was still by the Dvina and
was now his only hope of safety.

The regiments of this corps, although they had not suffered the
hardship and privation of those who had gone to Moscow, had however
been more often in action against the enemy. Napoleon, wishing to
reward them by appointments to vacant positions, had brought to him
for his approval a number of proposals for promotions, several of
which related to me. One of these recommended me for the rank only
of lieutenant-colonel and it was this that was put before the Emperor
for his signature. I have it from General Grundler who, having been
detailed to carry the despatch, found himself in the Emperor's office
during the signing, that the Emperor scratched out with his own hand
the words Lieutenant-colonel and wrote in the word Colonel, saying "I
am paying off an old debt." So, on the 15th of November, I at last
became Colonel of the 23rd Chasseurs, although I did not know it
until some time later.

The painful retreat was resumed. The enemy, whose strength
increased continually, cut off from the rest of the army the Corps
of Prince Eugène, Davout and Ney. The first two managed to fight
their way through to join the Emperor, who was very distressed at the
absence of Ney, of whom he had had no news for several days.

On the 19th of November Napoleon reached Orscha. It was now a month
since he had left Moscow and there was still a hundred and twenty
leagues to cover before reaching the Nieman. The cold was intense.

While the Emperor worried unhappily about the fate of his
rear-guard and the gallant Marshal Ney, the latter was engaged in one
of the finest feats of arms recorded in history. Leaving Smolensk on
the morning of the 17th, after blowing up the ramparts, the
Marshal had hardly begun his march when he was assailed by a myriad
of the enemy, who attacked both flanks and the front and rear of his
column.

Driving them off continually, Ney marched, surrounded by them for
three days, to halt eventually before the dangerous pass of the
Krasnoe ravine, beyond which could be seen a great mass of Russian
troops and an array of guns which opened a lively and sustained fire.

Without being cast down by this unforeseen obstacle the Marshal
took the bold decision to force a passage, and ordered the 48th of
line, commanded by Colonel Pelet, to attack with the bayonet. At
Ney's command, the French soldiers, although tired, hungry and numb
with cold, rushed the Russian batteries and captured them. They were
regained by the enemy and captured once more by our men but in the
end they had to yield to the superiority in numbers. The 48th,
shattered by grape-shot, was largely destroyed. Of the six hundred
and fifty men who entered the ravine only about a hundred emerged. 
Colonel Pelet, gravely wounded was among them.

Night fell, and for the rearguard, all hope of rejoining the
Emperor and the rest of the army seemed to be lost; but Ney had
confidence in his men, and above all in himself. He ordered lines of
fires to be lit, in order to keep the enemy in their camp, in the
expectation of a renewed attack the next day, but he had decided to
put the Dnieper between himself and the Russians and to entrust his
fate and that of his troops to the strength of the ice covering the
river. It was while he was trying to decide which was the shortest
route to the river that a Russian colonel from Krasnoe arrived as an
envoy, and demanded that Ney should surrender. Ney was indignant,
and as the officer was carrying no written instructions, he replied
that he did not regard him as an envoy but as a spy who would be
executed if he did not guide them to the nearest spot on the bank of
the Dnieper. The Russian Colonel was forced to obey.

Ney immediately gave the order to quit the camp in silence,
leaving behind the guns, wagons, baggage and those wounded unable to
march with him; and helped by the darkness, he reached, after four
hours, the banks of the Dnieper. The river was frozen over, but the
ice was not everywhere thick enough to bear the weight of a number of
men, so the Marshal sent his troops across one by one. Once over the
river, the troops thought they had reached safety, but dawn revealed
an encampment of Cossacks. This was commanded by Hetman Platov who,
as was his custom, had spent the evening drinking and was still
asleep.

Discipline is so rigid in the Russian army that no one dared wake
him nor take up arms without his orders, so the remains of Ney's
Corps were able to pass within a league of the camp without being
attacked. The Cossacks did not appear until the next day.

Under constant attack, the Marshal marched for three days along
the winding bank of the Dnieper, which would lead him to Orscha, and
on the 20th he at last saw this town where he hoped to find the
Emperor and the army. He was, however, still separated from Orscha by
a large area of open ground in which were many enemy troops, while
the Cossacks were preparing to attack him from the rear. Taking up a
good defensive position, he sent of a succession of officers to find
out if the French were still in Orscha, failing which resistance
would no longer be possible. One of these officers reached Orscha
where the general headquarters still was. The Emperor was delighted
to hear of the return of Marshal Ney, and to rescue him from his
dangerous position he sent Prince Eugène and Marshal Mortier who
drove off the enemy and brought back Ney and what remained of his
unit.

The next day the Emperor continued the retreat. He was joined by
troops under the command of Marshal Victor who had recently arrived
from Germany, and he made contact with 2nd Corps, where Saint-Cyr had
just returned the command to Marshal Oudinot.

Chap. 15.

As it is important to understand the events which led to the
reunion of 2nd Corps with the army from which it had been separated
since the start of the campaign, I must describe briefly what
happened after the month of August, when, having defeated the
Russians at Polotsk, Saint-Cyr set up near there an immense
entrenched camp protected by a part of his force, the remainder of
which he spread out on both banks of the Dvina. The light cavalry
provided cover for these cantonments and so, as I have already said,
Castex's brigade, to which my regiment belonged, was stationed at
Louchonski, on a little river named the Polota, from where we could
keep an eye on the main roads leading from Sebej and Newel.

Wittgenstein's army, after its defeat, had retired beyond those
towns, so that there was between the French and the Russians a
space of more than twenty-five leagues of no-man's-land, into which
both sides sent reconnaissance parties of cavalry, giving rise to
unimportant skirmishes. For the rest, as the area round Polotsk was
well supplied with forage and standing crops of grain, and as it
seemed plain that we were in for a long stay, the French soldiers
started to reap and thresh the corn, and grind it in the small
hand-mills which are to be found in every peasant dwelling.

This process seemed to me to be too slow, so we repaired, with
much difficulty, two water-mills, which stood by the Polota near
Louchonski, and from that time on, a supply of bread for my regiment
was assured. As for meat, the neighbouring woods were full of
abandoned cattle; but as it was necessary to track them down every
day, I had the idea of doing what I had seen done in Portugal, and
that was to form a regimental herd. In a short time I had rounded up
7 or 8 hundred beasts which I put in the charge of some unmounted
Chasseurs, to whom I gave local ponies, too small for military use. 
This herd, which I increased by frequent searches, lasted for several
months and allowed me to make regular distributions of meat to the
regiment, which maintained the men's health and earned me their
gratitude for the care I took of them. I extended my care to the
horses, for which we made big shelters, thatched with straw, and
placed behind the men's huts, so that our bivouac was almost as
comfortable as a regular camp in peacetime. The other unit commanders
did the same sort of thing, but none of them had a regimental herd:
their men lived from day to day.

While the French, Swiss, Croat, and Portuguese regiments worked
unceasingly to improve their conditions, the Bavarians alone made no
effort to escape from want and sickness. It was in vain that General
the Comte de Wrède tried to rouse them by pointing out how the French
soldiers were building huts, reaping and threshing grain, milling it
into flour, making ovens and baking bread, the wretched Bavarians,
totally demoralised since they no longer were issued with regular
rations, admired the work done by our men without attempting to
imitate them. So they were dying like flies and there would have
been none left if Marshal Saint-Cyr, shaking off for a moment his
habitual indifference, had not persuaded the colonels of the other
divisions to provide a daily supply of bread for the Bavarians. The
light cavalry, stationed out in the country and near the woods, sent
them some cattle.

However, these Germans, so feeble when it came to work, were brave
enough in action against the enemy, but the moment the danger was
over they relapsed into complete apathy. Nostalgia or home-sickness
took them; they dragged themselves to Polotsk, and entering the
hospitals established by their commanders, they asked for somewhere
to die, and laying themselves on the straw, they never rose again. 
A great many died in this way and General de Wrède had to take into
his wagon the flags of a number of regiments who had not sufficient
men to defend them. And yet it was only September, the cold weather
had not begun and on the contrary it was very mild. The other troops
were in good heart and awaited cheerfully the outcome of events.

The men of my regiment were noted everywhere for their good
health, which I attribute firstly to the quantity of bread and meat
which I was able to give them and secondly to the liquor which I was
able to obtain by an arrangement with the Jesuits of Polotsk. These
good Fathers, all of them French, had a big farm at Louchonski,
where there was a distillery for making grain spirit, but on the
approach of war all the workers had fled back to the monastery, taking
with them the stills and utensils, so that production had stopped,
thus depriving the monastery of part of its revenue. The arrival of
so many soldiers in the region had made alcoholic drinks so scarce
and expensive that the owners of the canteens were undertaking a
journey of several days to Wilna to obtain supplies. It occurred
to me that I might be able to reach an agreement with the Jesuits
whereby I would protect their distillery and have my men reap and
thresh the necessary grain, in return for which my regiment would
receive a daily share of the resulting product. My proposition was
accepted by the monks, who benefitted greatly by being able to sell
alcohol in the camps, while I had the advantage of being able to
distribute a daily ration to my men who, since crossing the Nieman,
had drunk nothing but water.

At first glance these details may seem pointless, but I am happy
to recall them because the care I took of my men saved many of their
lives and maintained the strength of the 23rd far above that of the
other cavalry regiments in the Corps, which earned me a token of his
satisfaction from the Emperor which I shall refer to later.

Among the measures which I took are two which protected the lives
of many of my troopers. The first of these was to insist that from
the 15th of September they should each equip themselves with a
sheepskin coat, many of which were to be found in abandoned peasant
dwellings. Soldiers are like great children, for whom one must care
sometimes against their will. Mine complained that these heavy
pelisses were useless and overburdened their horses, but come October
they were happy to put them on under their capes, and when it grew
really cold they thanked me for having made them keep them.

The second step which I took was to send to the rear all those
troopers who were without a mount, either because of enemy fire or
because their horse had died for some other reason. A standing order
required that these men should be sent to Lepel, in Lithuania, to
await horses which were to be sent from Warsaw. I was preparing to
do this when I learned that Lepel was crammed with dismounted
troopers, who were short of all supplies and had nothing to do
because not a single remount had arrived there, so I took it on
myself to send my dismounted men directly to Warsaw under the
command of Captain Poitevin, who had been wounded. I knew that this
was in breach of the regulations, but in a huge army, so far from its
base and under such abnormal conditions, it was not possible for the
general staff to attend to all the needs of the troops. Occasions
therefore arose when a unit commander had to use his own judgement.
Thus, General Castex, who could not give me official authorisation and
having told me that he would close his eyes to what I was doing, I
continued in this manner for as long as it was possible, so that in
the end I had sent 250 men to Warsaw. After the campaign I found
them once more on the Vistula, all in new uniforms, well-equipped
and well-mounted and a welcome reinforcement for the regiment. The
dismounted men from other regiments, amounting to some 9000, who had
been sent to Lepel, caught unaware by the great retreat from Moscow,
were almost all taken prisoner or died of cold on the roads. Yet it
would have been so easy to have sent them during the summer and
autumn to the remount depot at Warsaw, where there were plenty of
horses but a shortage of riders.

I remained for a whole month resting at Louchonski, which helped
to heal the wound I had received at Jakoubowo. We were very
comfortable in our camp from the material point of view, but very
worried about the events at Moscow, and it was only on rare occasions
that we had news from France. At last I had a letter in which my
dearest Angelique told me she had given birth to a boy. My joy at
this was mixed with sadness, for I was a long way from my family,
and although I could not foresee all the dangers to which I would
soon be exposed, I could not pretend that there were not many
obstacles to be overcome before our reunion.

About the middle of September, Marshal Saint-Cyr sent me on a
rather delicate mission. It had two objectives: first to find out
what the enemy were up to in the region round Newel and then to
return via Lake Ozerichtchi in order to get in touch with Count
Lubenski, one of the few Poles who were willing to do anything to
shake off the Russian yoke. The Emperor who, although unwilling to
proclaim the re-establishment of the former Poland, wanted to
organise the areas already conquered into departments, had received
many refusals from the noblemen to whom he had proposed to confide
the administration; but having been assured of Count Lubenski's
patriotism, His Majesty had nominated him Prefect of Witepsk. As
this nobleman lived in an isolated spot outside the area under
French control, it was difficult to inform him of his nomination and
to ensure his safe arrival. Napoleon had therefore ordered that a
body of light cavalry should be sent to the Count.

Detailed to undertake this mission, with three hundred men of my
regiment, I picked the boldest and best-mounted men and having
provided them with bread, cooked meat and vodka, as well as other
necessities, I left the camp on the 14th of September, taking with me
Lorentz to act as interpreter.

The life of a partisan is perilous and very tiring. One avoids the
main roads and hides by day in the forest without daring to make a
fire. One takes from a hamlet food and fodder to be eaten several
leagues away to confuse enemy spies; one marches all night, sometimes
arriving at different point from that intended and one is constantly
on the look-out. Such was the life I led when I found myself with no
more than three hundred men, in a huge area which I did not know, out
of touch with the French army and approaching that of the Russians, a
numerous detachment of whom I might encounter at any time. It was a
difficult situation, but I had confidence in myself and in the men
who followed me, so I went forward resolutely, skirting by two or
three leagues the road which runs from Polotsk to Newel. 

Nothing much of interest happened to us. It is sufficient to say
that thanks to the information given to us by the peasants, who hated
the Russians, we made a tour round Newel, avoiding all the enemy
positions, and after eight days, or rather eight nights, of marching
we came to the shore of Lake Ozerichtchi, where there is the
magnificent château which at that time belonged to Count Lubenski.
I shall never forget the scene which greeted us on our arrival
before this ancient and vast manor. It was a splendid autumn
evening. The family of the Count had gathered to celebrate his
birthday and to rejoice in the capture of Moscow by Napoleon, when
some servants ran to announce that the château was surrounded by
soldiers on horseback, who had posted sentries and guards and were
now entering the courtyards. It was thought that these were the
Russian police who had come to arrest the Count, and he, a man of
great courage, was waiting calmly to be taken to the prison of
St. Petersburg, when his son, who out of curiosity had opened a
window, came to say that the troopers were speaking French.

On hearing this, the Count and his family followed by a crowd of
servants rushed out of the château and gathered on an immense
peristyle. When I mounted the steps, he advanced towards me with
arms outstretched to embrace me, and declaimed in theatrical tones a
most fulsome welcome. Not only did the Count embrace me, but his
wife and daughters did the same, then the almoner, the tutors and
governesses came to kiss my hand, and the domestic staff touched my
knee with their lips. I was greatly astonished at these various
honours, and accepted them with all the gravity I could muster. I
had thought the whole performance was over when, at a word from the
Count, they all knelt down and commenced to pray.

When we re-entered the château, I handed the Count his appointment
as Prefect of Witepsk, adorned with the signature of the French
Emperor, and asked him if he accepted it. "Yes!" he cried "and I am
ready to go with you." The Countess was equally enthusiastic, and it
was agreed that the Count with his eldest son and two servants would
leave with me. I gave them an hour to get ready, which time was
employed in giving my men a good supper, which they had to eat on
horseback because of my fear of a surprise attack. Having said our
farewells, we left to go and sleep in a forest four leagues from
there, where we stayed hidden all the next day. At night we
continued our march, but to put off our trail any of the enemy who
might have been warned of our presence in the area, I took a
different route to that by which I had come, and going by paths and
at times across country, after five days I reached Polotsk. It was as
well that I had taken a different route, because I learned later from
some merchants who lived in Newel that the Russians had sent a
regiment of Dragoons and 600 Cossacks to wait for me at the source of
the Drissa, near a village I had passed on my way in.

After reporting to Marshal Saint-Cyr and presenting to him Count
Lubenski, I went back to the camp at Louchonski, where I rejoined
General Castex and the rest of my unit. My expedition had lasted for
thirteen days, during which time we had suffered fatigue and
privation; but I was bringing my men back in good shape. We had not
been obliged to fight since any small bands of the enemy we did
encounter fled when they saw us.

The journey which Count Lubenski had taken with us had allowed me
to assess his character. He was a well educated man, capable and
patriotic, but one whose enthusiasm was inclined to cloud his
judgement when it came to considering how best to re-build Poland.
Nevertheless, if all his compatriots had shown his vigour, and had
taken up arms on the arrival of the French, Poland might have
regained its freedom in 1812; but, with few exceptions, they remained
profoundly apathetic.

After leaving Polotsk, the Count went to take up his post as
prefect. He did not keep the position for long, for a month had
hardly passed before the French army, having left Moscow passed
through Witepsk on its retreat. Compelled by this disaster to
abandon his prefecture and to shelter from the vengeance of the
Russians, he took refuge in Galicia, in Austrian Poland, where he had
large landholdings. He lived there peacefully until 1830 when he
returned to Russian Poland to take up arms against the Czar. I do
not know what happened to him after this uprising, but I have been
told by some of his countrymen that he went back to Galicia. He was
a good patriot and a fine man.

A few days after our return to Louchonski, I was greatly surprised
by the arrival of a detachment of thirty troopers belonging to my
regiment. They had come from Mons and had, in consequence, travelled
through Belgium, the Rhenish provinces, all of Germany and part of
Prussia and Poland, and had come more than 400 leagues under the
command of a simple N.C.O. However not a man had fallen out and not a
horse was injured. That shows the sort of stuff of which the
troopers of the 23rd were made.

Chap. 16.

On about the 12th of October, 2nd Corps, which since the 18th of
August had been living in peace and plenty in and around Polotsk,
had to prepare itself to run once more the dangers of war. We
learned that Admiral Tchitchakoff, commander-in-chief of the Russian
army in Walachia, having made peace with the Turks through the
intervention of the English, was heading for Moghilew with the
intention of getting in the rear of Napoleon who, still nursing the
hope of concluding a treaty with Alexander, had not yet left Moscow. 
One might be astonished that Prince Schwartzenberg, who with thirty
thousand Austrians, our allies, was supposed to be watching over the
Russian forces in Walachia, had allowed them to pass, but that is
what happened. Not only had the Austrians failed to block the road
taken by the Russians, which they could have done, but instead of
following behind them, they had stayed comfortably in their
cantonments.

Napoleon had trusted too much in the good faith of the generals
and ministers of his father-in-law, the Emperor of Austria, in giving
them the responsibility of covering the right flank of the Grande
Armée. Whatever excuses are offered, there can be, in my opinion, no
escaping the fact that this was flagrant treachery on their part, and
history will condemn them for it.

While on our right the Austrians were allowing passage to the
Russian troops coming from Turkey, the Prussians, who had so
unwisely been placed on our left wing, were preparing to do a deal
with the enemy, and that almost openly, without concealment from
Marshal Macdonald, whom the Emperor had put at their head to ensure
their fidelity. As soon as these foreigners learned that the
occupation of Moscow had not led to a peace, they foresaw the
disasters which would befall the French army, and all their enmity
towards us was rekindled. They did not break out in open revolt, but
Marshal Macdonald's orders were obeyed with reluctance, and the
Prussians encamped near Riga could at any moment join Wittgenstein's
Russians to crush 2nd Corps camped round Polotsk.

Plainly, Marshal Saint-Cyr's position was becoming difficult. He,
however, did not seem perturbed, and as impassive as ever, he issued
calmly and clearly the orders for an obstinate defence. All the
infantry was concentrated in the town and the entrenched camp.
Several bridges were added to those already uniting the two banks of
the Dvina. The sick and the non-combatants were sent to Old Polotsk
and Ekimania, fortified posts on the left bank. The Marshal did not
consider he had enough troops to dispute the open ground with
Wittgenstein, who had received powerful reinforcements from
St. Petersburg, so he did not keep more than five squadrons with
him, of which he took one from each regiment of light cavalry. The
rest went over to the other bank.

On the 16th of October the enemy scouts appeared before Polotsk,
the aspect of which had greatly changed, partly because of the huge,
newly established, entrenched camp and partly because of the numerous
fortifications which covered the open country. The biggest and
strongest of these was a redoubt called the Bavarian. The unhappy
remnant of General de Wrède's force asked if they might defend this
redoubt, which they did with much courage.

The fighting began on the 17th and went on all day without Marshal
Saint-Cyr being forced out of his position. This angered General
Wittgenstein, who attributed the hold-up to his officers not having
distinguished between the stronger and weaker of our defence works,
and wishing to inspect them himself, he boldly approached them. 
This devotion to duty nearly cost him his life, for Major Curély, one
of the finest officers in the army, having spotted the General,
dashed forward leading a squadron of the 20th Chasseurs, who sabred
some of the escort while he, forcing his way to General Wittgenstein,
put the point of his sword to his throat and forced him to surrender.

Having effected the capture of the enemy commander, Major Curély
should have retired swiftly, between two redoubts, and taken his
prisoner into the entrenched camp; but the Major was too keen, and
seeing that the General's escort was about to attempt his rescue, he
thought it would be more creditable if he could keep his prisoner in
spite of all their efforts. Wittgenstein then found himself in the
middle of a group fighting for the possession of his person. In the
course of the struggle Curély's horse was killed, several of our
Chasseurs dismounted in order to pick up their leader, and, in the
confusion this created, Wittgenstein made off at the gallop, calling
for his men to follow.

When this event became generally known throughout the army, it
gave rise to much debate. Some maintained that Major Curély should
have killed Wittgenstein as soon as his escort returned to fight for
his rescue, others thought that having accepted his surrender, Curély
was not entitled to do so. Others again, thought that, having once
surrendered, Wittgenstein should not have tried to escape. Whatever
the rights or wrongs of these arguments may be, when Curély was
presented to the Emperor during the crossing of the Beresina, where
General Wittgenstein caused us many losses, Napoleon said to him,
"This would probably not have happened if you had used your right to
kill Wittgenstein at Polotsk, when the Russians were trying to take
him from you." In spite of this reproach, merited or not, Curély
became a colonel shortly after, and a general in 1814.

To return now to Polotsk where the enemy, repelled on the 17th,
returned to the attack on the 18th, in so much greater numbers that,
after suffering very heavy losses, Wittgenstein's men captured the
entrenched camp. Saint-Cyr, at the head of Legrand's and Maison's
divisions, drove them out at bayonet point. Seven times the Russians
returned to the attack, and seven times the French and the Croats
drove them off, to remain finally in control of all their positions.

Although now wounded, Saint-Cyr continued to direct his troops. 
His efforts were crowned with success, for the enemy left the field
and retired into the nearby forest. 50,000 Russians had been
defeated by 15,000 of our men. There was rejoicing in the French
camp, but on the morning of the 19th we heard that General Steinghel
with 14,000 Russians had just crossed the Dvina above Disna and was
moving up the left bank to get behind Polotsk, seize the bridges and
trap Saint-Cyr's force between his own and Wittgenstein's. And indeed
it was not long before Steinghel's advance-guard appeared, heading
for Ekimania, where there were the division of Cuirassiers and the
regiments of Light Cavalry from each of which the Marshal had
retained only one squadron at Polotsk.

At once we were all on horseback and we drove off the enemy, who
would in the end have gained the upper hand, for they were being
strongly reinforced, while we had no infantry support until Saint-Cyr
sent us three regiments taken from the divisions who were protecting
Polotsk. However, at this point Steinghel, who had only to make a
little effort to reach the bridges, stopped short, while on the other
side of the river, Wittgenstein did the same. It seemed that the two
Russian generals, after combining to draw up an excellent plan of
attack, were unwilling to put it into operation, each one leaving it
to the other to overcome the French.

The French position was now highly critical, for on the right bank
they were pressed back by an army three time their strength towards a
town built entirely of wood and a sizeable river, with no means of
retreat except the bridges which were threatened by Steinghel's
troops on the left bank.

All the generals urged Saint-Cyr to order the evacuation of
Polotsk, but he wanted to wait for nightfall, because he felt sure
that the 50,000 Russians who faced him were waiting only for his
first backward move to throw themselves on his weakened army and
create a state of disorder in the ranks. So he stayed where he was,
and took advantage of the extraordinary inactivity of the enemy
generals to wait for the onset of the dark, which was hastened,
luckily, by a thick fog which prevented the three armies from seeing
one another. The Marshal seized this favourable opportunity to
effect his withdrawal.

The large number of guns and some cavalry squadrons who had
remained on the right bank, had already crossed the bridges in
silence, and the infantry were about to follow, their movement
invisible to the enemy, when the men of Legrand's division, unwilling
to leave their huts for the benefit of the Russians, set them on
fire. The two other divisions, believing that this was an agreed
signal, did the same and in an instant the whole line was aflame. 
This great conflagration having alerted the Russians to our retreat,
all their guns opened up; their mortars set fire to the suburbs and
the town itself, toward which their columns charged. However, the
French, mainly Maison's division, disputed every foot of ground, for
the fires lit the place as if it were day.

Polotsk was burned to the ground. The losses on both sides were
considerable. Nevertheless our retreat was carried out in an orderly
fashion: we took with us those of our wounded whom it was possible to
carry; the rest, together with a great many Russians, perished in the
flames.

It seemed that there was a complete lack of co-operation between
the leaders of the two enemy armies, for during this night of
fighting Steinghel stayed peacefully in his camp, and made no more
effort to support Wittgenstein than the latter had made to support
him on the previous day. It was only when Saint-Cyr, after
evacuating the place, had put himself beyond the reach of
Wittgenstein by burning the bridges, that Steinghel, on the morning
of the 20th, deployed his troops to attack us. But the French force
was now united on the left bank, and Saint-Cyr mounted an assault
against Steinghel, who was overcome with the loss of more than 2000
men killed or captured.

In the course of these fierce engagements, over four days and a
night, the Russians had six generals and 10,000 men killed or
wounded, while the losses of the French and their allies did not
amount to more than 5,000, a huge difference which can be attributed
to the superior firepower of our troops, particularly the artillery. 
The advantage which we had in respect of numbers was in part
compensated for by the fact that the wounds which Marshal Saint-Cyr
had suffered would deprive the army of a leader in whom it had entire
confidence. It was necessary to replace him. The Comte de Wrède
claimed that his position as commander in chief of the Bavarian Corps
entitled him to command the French divisional generals, but they
refused to obey a foreigner. So Saint-Cyr, although in much pain,
agreed to remain in control of the two army corps, and ordered a
retreat towards Oula, in order to reach Smoliany and thus protect on
one side the road from Orscha to Borisoff by which the Emperor was
returning from Moscow.

This retreat was so well organised that Wittgenstein and
Steinghel, who, after repairing the bridges across the Dvina, were
following our trail with 50,000 men, did not dare to attack us,
although we had no more than 12,000 combatants; and they advanced
only fifteen leagues in eight days. As for the Comte de Wrède, his
injured pride led him to refuse to accept instructions, so he marched
off on his own, with the thousand Bavarians which he had left and a
brigade of French cavalry which he had acquired by subterfuge, having
told General Corbineau that he had received orders to this effect,
which was not the case. His presumption was soon punished: he was
attacked and defeated by a Russian division. He then retired without
authorisation to Wilna, from where he reached the Nieman. The
Corbineau brigade refused to go with him and returned to join the
French army, for whom its return was a piece of good fortune, as you
will see when we come to the crossing of the Beresena.

Ordered by the Emperor, Marshal Victor, Duc de Bellune, at the
head of the 9th Army Corps consisting of 25,000 men, half of whom
came from the Confederation of the Rhine, hurried from Smolensk to
join Saint-Cyr for the purpose of driving Wittgenstein back across
the Dvina. This project would have certainly been carried out if
Saint-Cyr had been in overall command; but Victor was the more senior
of the two marshals and Saint-Cyr was unwilling to serve under his
orders, so the evening before their union which took place at
Smoliany on the 31st of October, he declared that he could no longer
continue the campaign and handing over the command to General
Legrand, he set off to return to France. The departure of Saint-Cyr
was regretted by the troops who, although they disliked him
personally, gave him credit for his courage and his outstanding
military talent. Saint-Cyr could have been a first class army
commander if he had been less egoistic and if he had taken the
trouble to gain the affection of officers and men by caring for their
welfare. No man, however, is perfect.

Marshal Victor had no sooner gathered 9th and 2nd Corps under his
command than chance offered him the opportunity of achieving a major
victory. Wittgenstein, who was unaware of this union, relying on his
superiority in numbers, had decided to attack us at a place where his
line of retreat would be through some narrow defiles. It would only
have required a combined effort from the two corps to destroy him,
for our troops were now as numerous as his, were inspired by a better
spirit and were keen for action; but Victor, doubtful perhaps of
success on terrain which he was seeing for the first time, retreated
during the night, and having reached Sienno he put the two units into
cantonment in the district. The Russians also withdrew leaving only
some Cossacks to keep an eye on us. This state of affairs which
lasted for the first fortnight of November did the troops much good,
for they lived well, as the country offered many resources.

One day, Marshal Victor having been told that there was a
considerable enemy force in the area of a certain village, ordered
General Castex to send one of his units to reconnoitre the place. It
was for me to go. We left at dusk and reached the village without any
difficulty. It was situated in a hollow, in the middle of a huge
dried marshland and was entirely peaceful, the inhabitants whom I
interrogated with the aid of Lorentz said that they had not seen a
Russian soldier in the past month, so I prepared to return to my
base. However our return was not as trouble-free as our journey there
had been.

Although there was no mist, the night was extremely dark and I was
afraid of leading the regiment astray on the many embankments of the
marsh, which I had to cross once more; so I took as a guide one of
the villagers who seemed to me to be the least stupid. My column had
been going along in good order for half an hour, when suddenly I saw
camp fires on the slopes overlooking the marsh. I halted the column
and sent two sous-officiers to have a look. They reported that there
was a large force barring our advance and another in our rear. I
could now see fires between me and the village which I had just left
and it appeared that I had landed, without knowing it, in the middle
of an army corps which was making ready to bivouac for the night. 
The number of fires grew, and I estimated that there was a force of
about 50,000 men present and I was in the middle of it, with 700
troopers. The odds were too great, and there seemed only one thing
to do, and that was to gallop along the main embankment, on which we
were, and taking the enemy by surprise, cut a path for ourselves with
our sabres. Once free from the light of the fires, the darkness would
prevent the enemy from following us. I made sure that all my troops
knew what I proposed to do, and I have to admit that I was very
uneasy, for the enemy infantry could take up their arms at the first
cry of warning, and cause us many casualties.

I was in this state of anxiety when the peasant who was our guide
burst into loud laughter, seconded by Lorentz. I asked them what
they were about, but they did not know enough French to explain
fully. Eventually, however, we understood that these were not camp
fires but marsh fires, or will-of-the-wisp; something none of us had
ever seen before; and so, relieved of one of the nastiest frights I
have ever had, I returned to my camp.

Chap. 17.

After several days I was given a new mission, in which we would
face not marsh fires but the muskets of the Russian dragoons. It
happened that General Castex had gone to visit Marshal Victor, and
the 24th was out on patrol, so that my regiment was alone in the
camp when there arrived two peasants, one of whom I recognised as
Captain Bourgoing, Oudinot's aide-de-camp.

The Marshal, who had gone to Wilna after he had been wounded at
Polotsk on the 18th of August, having heard that Saint-Cyr had been
wounded in his turn on the 18th of October, and had left the army,
decided to rejoin 2nd Corps and take up its command.

Oudinot knew that his troops were somewhere in the region of
Sienno and was heading for that town when, on arriving at Rasna, he
was warned by a Polish priest that a body of Russian dragoons and
some Cossacks was roaming the area. The Marshal knew that there was
a French cavalry unit at Zapolé, so he wrote to the commander of this
unit to request a strong escort, and sent the letter by Captain
Bourgoing, who for additional safety disguised himself as a peasant. 
It was as well that he did so, for he had scarcely covered a league
when he encountered a large detachment of enemy cavalry, who,
thinking that he was a local inhabitant, took no notice of him. Soon
after this, Captain Bourgoing heard the sound of gunfire, and
increased his pace towards Zapolé.

As soon as I heard of the serious position in which the Marshal
found himself, I left with my regiment at the trot to bring him help.
It was a good thing that we arrived when we did, for although the
Marshal, joined by his aides-de-camp and some dozen French soldiers,
was barricaded in a stone house, he was on the point of being
captured by the dragoons when we arrived. When they saw us, the
enemy mounted their horses and fled. My troopers went after them and
managed to kill about twenty of them and take some prisoners; I had
two men wounded. The marshal, glad to have escaped from the
Russians, expressed his thanks, and I escorted him back to the French
cantonments where he was out of danger.

At this period in time, it seemed that none of the marshals was
prepared to recognise the right of seniority amongst themselves, for
not one of them was willing to serve under the orders of his comrade,
no matter how serious the situation. So as soon as Oudinot took
command of the 2nd Corps, Victor, rather than remaining under his
authority to join in combating Wittgenstein, took himself off with
his 25,000 men to Kokhanov. Marshal Oudinot, left on his own,
marched his men for several days round various parts of the province
before setting up his headquarters at Tschereia, with his
advance-guard at Loucoulm. It was here, during a minor action
involving Castex's brigade that I received my promotion to colonel. 
If you recall that I had suffered, in the rank of major, a wound at
Znaim in Moravia, two at Miranda de Corvo in Portugal, one at
Jakoubowo, that I had fought in four campaigns in the same rank and
that finally I had been in command of a regiment since the French
entry into Russia, you may think that I had earned my new epaulets.
I was grateful to the Emperor when I learned that he intended to keep
me with the 23rd Chasseurs, for whom I had great affection, and where
I was liked and valued. In fact this decision was welcomed by all
ranks, and the troops whom I had so often led into battle came, both
officers and men, to tell me of their satisfaction at my remaining
their commander. The good General Castex, who had always treated me
as a brother, welcomed me in front of the regiment, and even the
Colonel of the 24th, with whom I had few dealings, came to
congratulate me with all his officers, whose respect I had acquired.

However, the situation of the French army grew worse by the day. 
General Schwartzenberg, the Austrian commander-in-chief whom
Napoleon had placed on the right wing of his army, had, by an act of
low treachery, allowed the troops belonging to Admiral Tchitchakoff
to pass, and they had seized control of Minsk, from where they
threatened our rear. The Emperor must now have much regretted that
he had given the command of Lithuania to the Dutchman Hogendorf, his
aide-de-camp, who, having never been in action, did not know what to
do to save Minsk, where he could have easily have combined the 30,000
men of the Durette, Loison, and Dombrowski divisions which had been
placed at his disposal. The fall of Minsk, although a serious
matter, was one to which the Emperor attached little importance, for
he relied on crossing the Beresina at Borisoff, where there was a
bridge protected by a fort, in good condition and manned by a Polish
regiment. The Emperor was so confident about this that, in order to
speed the march of his army he burned all his bridging equipment at
Orscha. This was a disastrous mistake, for these pontoons would have
assured us a quick crossing of the Beresina which, in the event, we
had to effect at the cost of so much blood.

Despite his confidence in relation to the crossing, Napoleon, when
he heard of the Russian occupation of Minsk, ordered Oudinot to
proceed by forced marches to Borisoff. But we arrived there too late,
because General Bronikovski, who was in command of the fort, seeing
himself surrounded by a numerous enemy, thought it would be a
praiseworthy act to save his garrison. So instead of putting up a
determined resistance, which would have given Oudinot the time to
come to his help, he abandoned the fort, crossed the bridge to the
left bank with all his men, and set out for Orscha to join Oudinot's
corps, which he met on the road. The Marshal gave him a very rough
reception and ordered him to return with us to Borisoff.

Not only were the town, the bridge across the Beresina, and the fort
which dominates it in the hands of Tchitchakoff, but the Admiral,
carried away by this success and anxious to challenge the French, had
marched from the town with the bulk of his army, the vanguard of
which, consisting of a strong cavalry division, was led by General
Lambert, the most competent of his lieutenants.

As the country was open, Oudinot put ahead of his infantry
the division of Cuirassiers, and ahead of them Castex's brigade of
light cavalry.

It was about three leagues from Borisoff that the Russian
advance-guard, going in the opposite direction to us, came up against
our Cuirassiers, who having done little fighting during the campaign,
had asked to be in the front line. At the sight of this fine
regiment, still strong in numbers and well-mounted, with their
cuirasses gleaming in the sunlight, the Russian cavalry pulled up
short; then, gathering their courage, they moved forward again, at
which point our Cuirassiers, in a furious charge, overran them,
killing or capturing about a thousand. Tchitchakoff, who had been
assured that Napoleon's army was no more than a disorganised mass of
men without arms, had not expected this display of vitality, and he
beat a hurried retreat towards Berisoff.

It is well known that after putting in a charge, the big horses of
the heavy cavalry, and above all those of the Cuirassiers, cannot
continue to gallop for very long. So it was the 23rd and the 24th
Chasseurs who took up the pursuit of the enemy, while the Cuirassiers
followed in the second line, at a slower pace.

Tchitchakoff had not only made a mistake in attacking Oudinot but
he had also brought with him all the baggage of his army, which
filled more than fifteen hundred vehicles, so that the rapid retreat
of the Russians caused such confusion that the two regiments of
Castex's brigade often found themselves hindered by the carts which
had been abandoned by the enemy. This confusion became even worse
when we entered the town, where the streets were cluttered with
baggage and draught horses, through which obstructions Russian
soldiers, who had thrown away their arms, wove their way as they
sought to rejoin their units. We managed to reach the centre of the
town, but only after losing precious time, which allowed the
Russians to cross the river.

Our orders were to reach the bridge and try to cross it at the
same time as the fleeing Russians; but to do this one had to know
where the bridge was, and none of us knew the town. My troopers
brought me a Jew whom I questioned in German, but he either did not
know, or pretended not to know the language, and I could get no
information from him. I would have given a great deal to have had
with me my Polish servant, Lorentz, to act as interpreter, but the
coward had remained behind as soon as there was any fighting. So we
had to comb the town until we eventually came to the Beresina. The
river was not yet sufficiently frozen to permit one to cross on the
ice, so it was necessary to use the bridge, but to take the bridge
would require infantry, and our infantry was still three leagues from
Borisoff. To take their place, Marshal Oudinot, who had arrived on
the scene, ordered General Castex to dismount three quarters of the
troopers of the two regiments, who armed with muskets could attack
the bridge on foot. We left the horses in the nearby streets guarded
by one or two men, and headed for the river behind General Castex,
who on this perilous enterprise wished to be at the head of his
brigade.

The defeat suffered by the advance-guard had produced
consternation in Tchitchakoff's army, the utmost disorder ruled on
the side of the river which it occupied, where we could see a mass of
fugitives disappearing into the distance; so although it had at first
seemed to me that it would be extremely difficult for dismounted
troopers, without bayonets, to force a passage over the bridge, and
keep possession of it, I began to hope for a successful outcome, for
the opposition was no more than a few musket shots. I therefore
ordered that as soon as the first platoon reached the right bank it
should occupy houses adjoining the bridge so that being in control of
both ends we could defend it until the arrival of our infantry.
Suddenly, however, the cannons of the fort thundered into action,
covering the bridge with a hail of grape-shot, which forced our
little group to fall back. A body of Russian sappers used this
breathing space to set fire to the bridge, but as their presence
prevented the gunners from firing, we took the opportunity to attack
them, killing or throwing into the river the greater part of them. 
Our Chasseurs had already extinguished the fire when they were
charged by a battalion of Russian Grenadiers, and driven at bayonet
point off the bridge, which was soon set alight in many places and
became a huge bonfire whose intense heat made both sides move away.

The French had now to give up hope of crossing the Beresina at
this point, and their line of retreat was cut!...This was for us a
fatal calamity, and contributed largely to changing the face of
Europe, by shaking the Emperor on his throne.

Marshal Oudinot, once he saw that it was impossible to force a
passage over the river at Borisoff, considered that it would be
dangerous to have the town choked by the rest of his troops, so he
ordered them to halt and set up camp while they were still some
distance away. Castex's brigade stayed on its own in Borisoff and
was forbidden to communicate with the other units, from which it was
hoped to conceal for as long as possible the disastrous news of the
burning of the bridge, which they did not hear about until
forty-eight hours later.

Under the conventions of war, the enemy's baggage belongs to the
captors. General Castex therefore authorised the troopers of my
regiment and those of the 24th to help themselves to the booty
contained in the 1500 wagons and carts abandoned by the Russians in
their flight to the other side of the bridge. The quantity of goods
was immense, but as it was a hundred times more than the brigade
could carry, I called together all the men of my regiment and told
them that as we were to make a long retreat, during which I would
probably be unable to make the distributions of rations which I had
done during all the campaign, I would advise them to provide
themselves mainly with foodstuff, and think also about protection
from the cold, I reminded them that an overloaded horse will not last
for long, and that they should not weigh theirs down with articles of
no use in war. "What is more," I told them, "I shall hold an
inspection, and anything which is not food, clothing, or footwear will
be rejected without exception." General Castex, to avoid all
argument, had planted markers, which divided the mass of vehicles
into two parts, so that each regiment had its own area.

Oudinot's forces surrounded the town on three sides, the fourth
was bounded by the Beresina, and there were a number of observation
posts, so that our soldiers could examine the contents of the Russian
carts in safety. It appeared that the officers of Tchitchakoff's
army treated themselves well, for there was a profusion of hams,
pastries, sausages, dried fish, smoked meat and wines of all sorts,
plus an immense quantity of ships' biscuits, rice, cheese, etc. Our
men also took furs and strong footwear, which saved the lives of many
of them. The Russian drivers had fled without taking their horses,
almost all of which were of good quality. We took the best to
replace those of which the troopers complained, and officers used
some as pack-horses to carry the foodstuff which they had acquired.

The brigade spent another day in Borisoff, and as in spite of the
precautions which had been taken, the news of the destruction of the
bridge had spread throughout 2nd Corps, Marshal Oudinot, in order to
allow all his troops to take advantage of the goods contained in the
enemy vehicles, arranged that successive detachments from all the
regiments might enter the town, to take their share of the plunder. 
Notwithstanding the quantity of goods of all kinds taken by Oudinot's
men, there remained enough for the numerous stragglers returning from
Moscow on the following day.

The supreme command ,and indeed all officers who were able to
appreciate the situation, were extremely worried. We had before
us the Beresina, on the opposite bank of which were gathered
Tchitchakoff's forces, our flanks were threatened by Wittgenstein, 
Koutousoff was on our tail, and except for the debris of the Guard
and Oudinot's and Victors' corps, reduced now to a few thousand
combatants, the rest of the Grande Armée, recently so splendid, was
composed of sick men and soldiers without weapons, whom starvation
had deprived of their former energy. Everything conspired against
us; for although, owing to a drop in the temperature, Ney had been
able, a few days previously, to escape across the frozen Nieman, we
found the Beresina unfrozen, despite the bitter cold, and we had no
pontoons with which to make a bridge.

On the 25th of November, the Emperor entered Borisoff, where
Marshal Oudinot awaited him with the 6000 men he had left. Napoleon,
and the officers of his staff were astonished at the good order and
discipline which obtained in 2nd Corps, whose bearing contrasted so
markedly with that of the wretched groups of men whom they were
leading back from Moscow. Our troops were certainly not so smart as
they would have been in barracks, but every man had his weapons and
was quite prepared to use them. The Emperor was so impressed by
their turn-out that he summoned all the colonels and told them to
inform their regiments of his satisfaction with the way they had
conducted themselves in the many savage actions which had been fought
in the province of Polotsk.

Chap. 18.

You will recall that when the Bavarian General Comte de Wrède made
his unauthorised departure from 2nd Corps, he took with him
Corbineau's cavalry brigade, after assuring General Corbineau that he
had orders to do so, which was not true. Well, this piece of
trickery resulted in the saving of the Emperor and the remains of his
Grande Armée.

General Corbineau, dragged unwillingly away from 2nd Corps, of
which he was a part, had followed General Wrède as far as Gloubokoye,
but there he had declared that he would go no further unless the
Bavarian general showed him the order, which he claimed to have,
instructing him to keep Corbineau with him. General Wrède was unable
to do this, so Corbineau left him and headed for Dokshitsy and the
headwater of the Beresina, then, going down the right bank of the
river, he intended to reach Borisoff, cross the bridge and take the
road to Orscha to look for Oudinot's Corps, which he thought was in
the region of Bobr.

The Emperor, who had available the services of several thousand
Poles belonging to the Duchy of Warsaw, has been blamed for not
attaching, from the beginning of the campaign, some of them to every
general or even every colonel to act as interpreters, for this would
have avoided many mistakes. This was proved during the dangerous
journey of several days which the Corbineau brigade had to undertake
through unknown country, the language of whose inhabitants none of
the Frenchmen could understand, for it so happened that among the
three regiments which the General commanded was the 8th Polish
Lancers, whose officers extracted from the local people all the
necessary information. This was a tremendous help to Corbineau.

When he was about half a day's journey from Borisoff, some
peasants told the Polish Lancers that Tchitchakoff's troops were
occupying the town, information which dashed his hopes of crossing
the Beresina; however these same peasants having persuaded him to
turn round, led him to the village of Studianka, not far from
Weselovo, four leagues above Borisoff, where there is a ford. The
three regiments crossed the ford without loss and the General, going
across country and avoiding some of Wittgenstein's troops who were
moving towards Borisoff, eventually rejoined Oudinot on the 23rd of
November at a place called Natscha.

This daring march undertaken by Corbineau was much to his credit,
but more than that, it was a stroke of remarkable good fortune for
the army, for the Emperor, realising the impossibility of re-building
the bridge at Borisoff in the near future, resolved, after discussing
the matter with Corbineau, to cross the Beresina at Studianka. 
Tchitchakoff, who had been told of the crossing at this point
effected by Corbineau's brigade, had placed a strong division and
many guns opposite Studianka, so Napoleon, to deceive him, employed a
stratagem, which although very old, is almost always successful. He
pretended that he was not interested in Studianka and that he
intended to use one of two other fords which were below Borisoff, the
most practicable of which was at the village of Oukolada. To this
end he sent ostentatiously to the spot one of the still armed
battalions, followed by a horde of stragglers, which the enemy might
take for a full-strength division of infantry. At the tail of this
column were numerous wagons, a few guns and the division of
Cuirassiers. Having arrived at Oukolada these troops placed the guns
in position, and did all they could to look as if they were about to
build a bridge.

Told of these preparations, Tchitchakoff had no doubt that it was
Napoleon's intention to cross the river at this point so as to reach
the road to Minsk, which ran nearby. He therefore hurriedly sent down
the right bank, to face Oukoloda, the entire garrison of Borisoff. 
Not only that, for some extraordinary reason, the Russian general,
who had sufficient troops to protect both the upper and lower parts
of the river, removed all of those which he had placed previously in
a position to oppose a crossing at Studianka and sent them too down
to Oukoloda. He had now abandoned the place where the Emperor
intended to build a bridge, and had concentrated his force,
uselessly, six leagues downstream.

In addition to the error of massing all his army below Borisoff,
Tchitchakoff made a mistake which a sergeant would not have made, and
one for which his government never forgave him. The town of Zembin,
which is opposite to the ford at Studianka, is built on a vast marsh,
through which runs the road to Wilna. The road goes over twenty-two
wooden bridges which the Russian general could have easily reduced to
cinders before leaving the district, as they were surrounded by many
stacks of dry reeds. If Tchitchakoff had done this, the French army
would have been left without hope. It would have served it nothing
to have crossed the river, for it would have been halted by the deep
marshland surrounding Zembin; but the Russian general left the
bridges intact, and foolishly went down the Beresina with all his
men, leaving only about fifty Cossacks to keep an eye on the ford.

While the Russians, taken in by Napoleon's subterfuge, were
deserting the real point of attack, Napoleon gave his orders. 
Oudinot and his army Corps were to go by night to Studianka, and
there arrange for the building of two bridges, before crossing to the
right bank and occupying the area between the town of Zembin and the
river. Marshal Victor, leaving Natscha, was to form the rear-guard.
He was to drive before him all the stragglers, and was to try to hold
Borisoff for a few hours before going to Studianka and crossing the
bridges. Those were the Emperor's orders, the execution of which in
detail was frustrated by events.

On the evening of the 25th, Corbineau's brigade, whose commander
knew the area well, proceeded up the left bank of the Beresina
towards Studianka, followed by Castex's brigade and several
battalions of light infantry; after which came the bulk of 2nd Corps.

We were sorry to leave Borisoff where we had spent two happy days.

We had perhaps a presentiment of the bad times which were to come.

At daybreak on the 26th of November we arrived at Studianka, where
there were no signs of any preparation for defence on the opposite
bank, so that, had the Emperor not burned the bridging equipment a
few days previously at Orscha, the army could have crossed
immediately. The river, which some have described as huge, is more
or less as wide as the Rue Royale in Paris where it passes the
Ministry of Marine. As for its depth, it is enough to say that the
three regiments of Corbineau's brigade had forded it seventy-two
hours previously without accident, and did so again on the day of
which I write. Their horses never lost their footing and had to swim
only at two or three places. At this time the crossing presented only
a few minor inconveniences to the cavalry, the artillery and the
carts, one of which was that the riders and carters were wet up to
their knees, which was not insupportable because, regrettably the
cold was not sufficiently severe to freeze the river, which would
have been better for us. The second inconvenience which arose from
the lack of frost was that the marshy ground which bordered the
opposite bank of the river was so muddy that the saddle-horses had
difficulty in crossing it and the carts could sink in to their axles.

Esprit de corps is certainly very praiseworthy, but it should be
moderated or forgotten in difficult circumstances. This did not
happen at the Beresina, where the commanders of the artillery and the
engineers both demanded sole responsibility for building the bridges,
and as neither would give way, nothing was being done. When the
Emperor arrived on the 26th, he ended this quarrel by ordering that
two bridges should be built, one by the artillery and one by the
engineers. Immediately beams and battens were seized from the hovels
of the village and the sappers and the gunners got to work. Those
gallant men showed a devotion to duty which has not been sufficiently
recognised. They went naked into the freezing water and worked for
six or seven hours at a stretch, although there was not a drop of
"eau de vie" to offer them, and they would be sleeping in a field
covered by snow. Almost all of them died later, when the severe
frosts came.

While the bridges were being built and while my regiment and all
the troops of 2nd Corps were waiting on the left bank for the order
to cross the river, the Emperor, walking rapidly, went from regiment
to regiment, speaking to the men and officers. He was accompanied by
Murat. This brave and dashing officer who had so distinguished
himself as the victorious French were advancing on Moscow, the proud
Murat had been, so to speak, eclipsed since we had left that city and
during the retreat he had taken part in none of the fighting. One
saw him following the Emperor in silence, as if he had nothing to do
with what was going on in the army. He seemed to shed some of his
torpor at the Beresina at the sight of the only troops who were still
in good order, and who constituted the last hope of safety.

As Murat was very fond of the cavalry, and as of the many
squadrons which had crossed the Nieman there remained none except
those in Oudinot's corps, he urged the Emperor's footsteps in their
direction.

Napoleon was delighted with the state of these units and of my
regiment in particular, for it was now stronger than several of the
brigades. I had more than 500 men on horseback, whereas the other
colonels in the corps had scarcely 200, so I received some flattering
comments from the Emperor, a great share of which was due to my
officers and men.

It was at this time that I had the good fortune to be joined by
Jean Dupont, my brother's servant, a man of exemplary loyalty,
devotion and courage. Left on his own after the capture of my
brother early in the campaign, he had followed the 16th Chasseurs to
Moscow and taken part in the retreat, while caring for my brother
Adolphe's three horses, of which he had refused to sell a single one
in spite of many offers. He reached me after five months of hunger
and hardship, still carrying all my brother's effects, though he told
me, with tears in his eyes, that having worn out his shoes and been
reduced to walking barefoot in the snow, he had dared to take a pair
of boots belonging to his master. I kept this admirable man in my
service, and he was a great help to me when, some time later, I was
wounded once more, in the midst of the most horrible days of the
great retreat.

To return to the crossing of the Beresina. Not only did our horses
cross the river without difficulty, but our "cantiniers" or sutlers,
drove their carts across. This made me think that it might be
possible, if one unharnessed some of the many carts which followed
the army, to fix them in the river in a line, one after the other, to
make a sort of causeway for the infantrymen, something which would
greatly ease the flow of the mass of stragglers who the next day
would be crowding round the entries to the bridges. This seemed to
me to be such a good idea, that although I was wet to the waist, I
recrossed the ford to offer it to the generals of the Imperial staff.

They accepted my suggestion, but made no attempt to pass it on to
the Emperor. Eventually, General Lauristan, one of his aides-de-camp, said to me, "I suggest that you yourself undertake the building
of this footbridge, the usefulness of which you have so well
explained." I replied to this wholly unacceptable proposition that I
had at my disposal neither sappers nor infantrymen, nor tools, nor
stakes, nor rope, and that in any case I could not leave my regiment,
which being on the right bank, could be attacked at any time. I had
offered him an idea which I thought was a good one, I could do no
more and would now go back to my normal duties. Having said this I
went back into the water and returned to the 23rd.

When the sappers and the gunners had finally completed the trestle
bridges, they were crossed by the infantry and the artillery of
Oudinot's corps, who, having reached the right bank, went to set up
their bivouacs in a large wood, where the cavalry were ordered to
join them. We could from there watch the main road from Minsk, down
which Admiral Tchitchakoff had led his troops to the lower Beresina,
and up which he would have to come to reach us, once he heard that we
had crossed the river at Studianka.

On the evening of the 27th, the Emperor crossed the bridge with
his guard and went to settle at a hamlet named Zawniski, where the
cavalry were ordered to join him. The enemy had not appeared.

There has been much discussion about the disasters which occurred
at the Beresina; but what no one has yet said is that the greater
part of them could have been avoided if the general staff had paid
more attention to their duty and had made use of the night 27th-28th
to send over the bridge not only the baggage, but the thousands of
stragglers who would be obstructing the passage the next day. It so
happened that, after seeing my regiment well settled in their
bivouac, I noticed the absence of the pack horse, which, as it
carried the strong-box and the accounts of the regiment, could not be
risked in the ford. I expected that its leader and the troopers of
its escort had waited until the bridges were ready, but they had been
so for some hours and yet these men had not arrived. Being somewhat
worried about them, and the precious burden committed to their
charge, I thought I would go in person and expedite their crossing,
for I imagined that the bridges would be crowded. I hurried to the
river where, to my great surprise, I found the bridges completely
deserted. There was no one crossing them, although, by the bright
moonlight, I could see not a hundred paces away, more than 50,000
stragglers or men cut off from their regiments, whom we called
"rotisseurs." These men, seated calmly before huge fires, were
grilling pieces of horseflesh, little thinking that they were beside
a river, the passage of which would, the next day, cost many of them
their lives, whereas at present they could cross it unhindered, in a
few minutes, and prepare their supper on the other side. 
Furthermore, not one officer of the imperial household, not an
aide-de-camp of the army general staff, or that of a marshal was
there to warn these unfortunate men and to drive them, if need be, to
the bridges.

It was in this disorganised camp that I saw for the first time
the soldiers returning from Moscow. It was a most distressing
spectacle. All ranks were mixed together, no weapons, no military
bearing! Soldiers, officers and even generals, clad only in rags and
having on their feet strips of leather or cloth roughly bound
together with string. An immense throng in which were thrown
together thousands of men of different nationalities gabbling all the
languages of the European continent without any mutual understanding.

However, if one had used one of the regiments from Oudinot's corps
or the Guard, which were still in good order, it would have been easy
to herd this mass of men across the bridges, for, as I was returning
to Zawniski, having with me only a few orderlies, I was able by
persuasion and a bit of force to make several thousand of these
wretched men cross to the right bank; but I had other duties to
perform, and had to return to the regiment.

When I was passing by the general staff, and that of Marshal
Oudinot, I reported the deserted state of the bridges and pointed out
how easy it would be to bring the unarmed men across while there was
no enemy opposition; all I got were evasive answers, each one
claiming that it was a colleague's responsibility to see to such an
operation.

On returning to the regimental bivouac, I was pleasantly surprised
to see the corporal and the eight troopers who during the campaign
had been in charge of our herd of cattle. These good fellows were
desolate that the crowd of "rotisseurs" had set on their cattle,
butchered and eaten them before their eyes without their being able
to stop them. It was some consolation to the regiment that each
trooper had taken from Borisoff enough food to last for twenty-five
days.

My adjutant, M. Verdier, thought it his duty to go across the
bridge to try to find the guardians of our accounts, but he got
swallowed up in the crowd and was unable to get back. He was taken
prisoner during the struggle on the next day , and I did not see him
again for two years.

Chap. 19.

We now come to the most terrible event in the disastrous Russian
campaign... to the crossing of the Beresina; which took place mainly
on the 28th of November.

At dawn on this ill-fated day, the position of the two
belligerents was as follows. On the left bank, Marshal Victor,
having evacuated Borisoff during the night, had arrived at Studianka
with 9th Corps, driving in front of him a mass of stragglers. He had
left, to form his rear-guard, the infantry division of General
Partouneaux, who had been told not to leave the town until two hours
after him, and who should, in consequence, have sent out a small
detachment of men, who could follow the main body and leave guides to
signpost the route. He should also have sent an aide-de-camp to
Studianka to reconnoitre the road and return to the division: but
Partouneaux neglected all these precautions and simply marched off at
the prescribed time. He came to a fork in the road, and he did not
know which way to go. He must have been aware, since he had come
from Borisoff, that the Beresina was on his left, and he should have
concluded that to reach Studianka, at the side of this watercourse,
it was the road on the left which he should take... but he did not do
so, and following blindly some light infantry which had been ahead of
him, he took the right hand road and landed in the middle of a large
force of Wittgenstein's Russian troops.

Soon Partouneaux's division, completely surrounded, was forced,
after a brave defence, to surrender. Meanwhile a simple battalion
commander who was in charge of the divisional rear-guard, had the
good sense to take the road to the left, by means of which he joined
Marshal Victor at Studianka. The Marshal was greatly surprised to
see the arrival of this battalion instead of the division of which it
was the rear-guard, but his astonishment turned to dismay when he was
attacked by Wittgenstein's Russians, whom he thought had been
intercepted by Partouneaux. He could not then doubt that the General
and all his regiments had been defeated and taken prisoner.

Fresh misfortunes awaited him, for the Russian General Koutousoff,
who had been following Partouneaux from Borisoff with a strong body
of troops, once he heard of his defeat, speeded up his march and came
to join Wittgenstein in his attack on Marshal Victor. The Marshal,
whose army corps had been reduced to 10,000 men, put up a stout
resistance. His troops, even the Germans who were included among
them, fought heroically though they were attacked by two armies, had
their backs to the Beresina, and had their movements hampered by the
swarm of carts driven by undisciplined stragglers who were
endeavouring, in a mob, to reach the river. Regardless of these
circumstances they held off Koutousoff and Wittgenstein for the whole
day.

While this confusion and fighting were going on at Studianka, the
enemy, who aimed to gain control of both ends of the bridges,
attacked Oudinet's Corps, which was in position before Zawniski, on
the right bank. Some thirty thousand Russians, shouting loudly,
advanced towards 2nd Corps, which was by now reduced to no more than
eight thousand combatants. However, our men had not yet been in
contact with those returning from Moscow, and had no idea of the
disorder which ruled amongst them, so that their morale was excellent
and Tchitchakoff was driven back before the very eyes of the Emperor,
who arrived at that moment with a reserve of 3000 infantry and 1000
cavalry from the old and the Young Guard. The Russians renewed their
attack, and overran the Poles of the Legion of the Vistula. Marshal
Oudinot was seriously wounded, and Napoleon sent Ney to replace him. 
General Condras, one of our best infantry officers, was killed. The
gallant General Legrand received a dangerous wound.

The action took place in a wood of enormous pine trees. The enemy
artillery could not, therefore, see our troops clearly, so that,
although they kept up a vigourous bombardment, their cannon-balls did
not hit us, but going over our heads, they broke off branches, some
as thick as a man's body, which in their fall killed or injured a
good number of our men and horses. As the trees were widely spaced,
mounted men could move through them, although with some difficulty,
despite which, Marshal Ney, on the approach of a strong Russian
column, launched a charge against it with what remained of our
division of Cuirassiers. This charge, carried out under such unusual
conditions, was nevertheless one of the most brilliant which I have
seen. Colonel Dubois, at the head of the 7th Cuirassiers, split the
enemy column in two and took 2000 prisoners. The Russians, thrown
into disarray, were pursued by the Light Cavalry and driven back to
the village of Stakovo with great loss.

I was re-forming the ranks of my regiment, which had taken part in
this engagement, when M. Alfred de Noailles, with whom I was friendly,
arrived. He was returning from carrying an order from Prince
Berthier, whose aide-de-camp he was; but instead of going back to the
Marshal, he said as he left me, that he was going as far as the
first houses of Stakovo to see what the enemy was doing. This
curiosity proved fatal, for as he approached the village, he was
surrounded by a group of Cossacks who, having knocked him off his
horse, dragged him away by his collar while raining blows on him. I
immediately sent a squadron to his aid, but this effort at rescue did
not succeed, because a volley of fire from the houses prevented the
troopers from getting into the village. Since that day nothing has
been heard of M. de Noailles. It is likely that his superb furs and
his uniform covered in gold braid having roused the cupidity of the
Cossacks, he was murdered by these barbarians. M. de Noailles' family,
knowing that I was the last person to speak to him, asked me for news
about his disappearance, but I could tell them no more than what I
have described. Alfred de Noailles was an excellent officer and a
good friend.

This digression has diverted me from Tchitchakoff, who, after his
defeat by Ney, did not dare to attack us again nor to leave the
village of Stakovo for the rest of the day.

Having described briefly the position of the armies on the two
banks of the Beresina, I shall tell you, in a few words what happened
at the river itself during the fighting. The mass of unattached men
who had had two nights and two days in which to cross the bridges,
and who had, apathetically, failed to do so because they were not
compelled, when Wittgenstein's cannon-balls began to fall among them,
rushed in a body to get across. This huge multitude of men, horses, and
carts piled up at the entrance to the bridges, trying to force their
way on to them.... Many of those who missed the entrance were pushed
by the crowd into the Beresina where most of them were drowned.

To add to the disaster, one of the bridges broke under the weight
of the guns and the heavy ammunition wagons which followed them!
Everyone then headed for the second bridge, where the crowd was so
thick that strong men were unable to withstand the pressure and a
large number were stifled to death. When they saw that it was
impossible to cross the overcrowded bridges, many of the cart drivers
urged their horses into the river, but this method of crossing, which
would have been very successful if it had been carried out in an
orderly manner on the two preceding days, failed in the great
majority of instances, because driving their carts in a tumultuous
mob, they crashed into one another and turned over! Some, however
reached the opposite side, but as no one had prepared an exit by
smoothing the slope of the river bank, which the general staff should
have seen to, few vehicles could climb out, and many more people
perished there.

During the night of 28th 29th November, the Russian cannons added
to these scenes of horror by bombarding the wretched men who were
trying to cross the river, and finally at about nine in the evening
there was a crowning disaster, when Marshal Victor began his
withdrawal, and when his divisions, in battle order, arrived at the
bridge, which they could cross only by dispersing the crowds which
blocked their way! ...We should perhaps draw a veil over these
dreadful events.

At dawn on the 29th, all the vehicles remaining on the left bank
were set on fire, and when finally General Éblé saw the Russians
nearing the bridge, he set that on fire also! Several thousand
unfortunates left at Studianka fell into the hands of Wittgenstein.

So ended the most terrible episode of the Russian campaign, an
episode which would have been a great deal less terrible if we had
made proper use of the time which the Russians allowed us after we
had reached the Beresina. The army lost in this crossing 20 to
25,000 men.

Once this major obstacle had been crossed, the disorganised mass
of men who had escaped from the disaster was still huge. They were
directed to go along the road to Zembin. The Emperor and the Guard
followed. Then came the remains of several regiments, and finally 2nd
Corps, for whom Castex's brigade formed the last rear-guard.

I have already explained that the Zembin road, the only way left
open for us, goes through an immense marsh by means of a great number
of bridges which Tchitchakoff neglected to burn when he occupied this
position a few days previously. We did not make the same mistake,
for after the army had passed, the 24th Chasseurs and my regiment
easily set them on fire by means of the stacks of dry reeds heaped up
in the neighbourhood.

By ordering the burning of the bridges, the Emperor had hoped to
rid himself for a long time of pursuit by the Russians, but fate was
against us. The cold which at this time of year could have frozen
the waters of the Beresina to give us a pathway across, had left the
river running; but we had scarcely crossed over when there was sharp
frost which froze it to the point where it would bear the weight of a
cannon... and as it did the same to the marsh of Zembin, the burning
of the bridges was of no value to us. The three Russian armies which
we had left behind, could now pursue us without meeting any obstacle;
but fortunately the pursuit was not very energetic, and Marshal Ney,
who commanded the rear-guard and who had gathered together all the
troops still capable of fighting, made frequent sallies against the
enemy if they dared to approach too near.

Since Marshal Oudinot and General Legrand had been wounded,
General Maison commanded 2nd Corps, which being, in spite of many
losses, now numerically the strongest in the army, was always given
the task of holding off the Russians. We kept them at a distance
during the 30th of November and the 1st of December; but on the 2nd
of December they pressed us so hard, in considerable numbers, that a
serious engagement took place in which I received a wound, made even
more dangerous because the temperature on that day registered 25
degrees of frost. I should perhaps limit myself to telling you that
I was injured by a lance without going into further details, for they
are so unpleasant that I still do not like to remember them. However,
I said I would tell the story of my life, and so this is what
happened at Plechtchenitsoui.

It so happened that a Dutch banker named Van Berchem, with whom I
had been a close friend at the college of Sorèze, had sent to me, at
the start of the campaign, his only son, who having become French by
the incorporation of his country into the Empire, had enlisted in the
23rd, although he was barely sixteen years old!... He was a fine and
intelligent young man, and I made him my secretary, so that he went
everywhere fifteen paces behind me with my orderlies. That is where
he was on the day in question, when 2nd Corps, for whom my regiment
was acting as rear-guard while crossing a vast open plain, saw
coming towards them a mass of Russian cavalry, who quickly surrounded
them and attacked them on all sides. General Maison deployed his
troops with such skill that our squares repelled all the charges made
by the enemy regular cavalry.

The Russians then sent in a swarm of Cossacks, who came impudently
to attack with their lances the French officers who stood before
their troops. Seeing this, Marshal Ney ordered General Maison to
chase them off, using what remained of the division of Cuirassiers
and also Corbineau's and Castex's brigades. My regiment, which was
still numerically strong, was confronted by a tribe of Cossacks from
the Black Sea, wearing tall astrakhan hats, and much better clad and
mounted than the usual run of Cossacks. We engaged them, but as it
is not their custom to stand and fight in line, they turned round and
made off at the gallop; but not knowing the locality, they headed for
an obstacle which is very unusual in these enormous plains, and that
is a large, deep gully, which owing to the perfect flatness of the
surrounding country could not be distinguished from any distance. 
This pulled them up short, and seeing that they could not get across
with their horses, they bunched together and turned to present to us
their lances.

The ground, covered by frost, was very slippery, and our
over-tired horses could not gallop without falling. There was,
therefore, no question of a charge, and my line advanced at a trot
towards the massed enemy, who remained motionless. Our sabres could
touch their lances, but as they are thirteen or fourteen feet long,
we could not reach our foes, who could not retreat for fear of
falling into the gulch, and could not advance without encountering
our swords. We were thus face to face, regarding one another when,
in less time than it takes to tell, this is what happened.

Anxious to get to grips with the enemy, I shouted to my troops to
grab some of the lances with their left hands and pushing them to one
sided, get into the middle of this crowd of men, where our short
weapons would give us an enormous advantage over their long spears. 
To encourage them to obey, I wanted to set an example, so dodging
several lances, I managed to reach the front rank of the enemy!... My
warrant officers and my orderlies followed me, and soon the whole
regiment. There then ensued a general mêlée; but at the moment when
it started, an old white-bearded Cossack, who was in the rear rank
and separated from me by some of his comrades, lent forward and
thrusting his lance skillfully between the horses he drove the sharp
steel into my right knee, which it pierced, passing through beneath
the kneecap.

Enraged by the pain of this injury, I was pushing my way towards
the man to take my revenge, when I was confronted by two handsome
youths of about eighteen to twenty, wearing a brilliant costume,
covered with rich embroidery, who were the sons of the chieftain of
this clan. They were accompanied by an elderly man who was some sort
of tutor, but who was unarmed. The younger of his two pupils did not
draw his sword, but elder did and attacked me furiously!... I found
him so immature and lacking strength that I did no more than disarm
him, and taking his arm pushed him behind me, telling Van Berchem to
look after him. I had hardly done this when a double explosion rang
in my ears and the collar of my cape was torn by a ball. I turned
round quickly, to see the young Cossack officer holding a pair of
double-barrelled pistols with which he had treacherously tried to
shoot me in the back and had blown out the brains of the unfortunate
Van Berchem!

In a transport of rage I hurled myself at this rash stripling, who
was already aiming his second pistol at me. Seeing death in my face,
he seemed momentarily paralysed. He cried out some words in French.
But I killed him.

Blood calls for blood! The sight of young Van Berchem lying dead
at my feet, the act I had just carried out, the excitement of battle
and the pain of my wound, combined to induce a sort of frenzy. I
rushed at the younger of the Cossack officers and grabbing him by the
throat I had already raised my sabre when his elderly mentor, to
protect his charge, laid the length of his body on my horses neck in
a manner which prevented me from striking a blow and called out,
"Mercy! In the name of your mother, have mercy! He has done nothing!"

On hearing this appeal, in spite of the scenes around me, I seemed
to see the white hand I knew so well, laid on the young man's breast
and to hear my mother's gentle voice saying,"Be merciful!" I
lowered my sabre and sent the youth and his guardian to the rear.

I was so disturbed by what had happened that I would have been
unable to give any further orders to the regiment if the fighting had
continued for any length of time, but it was soon finished. Many of
the Cossacks had been killed and the remainder, abandoning their
horses, slid into the depths of the ravine, where a number died in
the huge snow-drift which the wind had created.

In the evening following this affair, I questioned my prisoner and
his guardian. I learned that the two youngsters were the sons of a
powerful chieftain, who, having lost a leg at Austerlitz, hated the
French so much that being unable to fight them himself, he had sent
his two sons to do so. I thought it likely that, as a prisoner, the
cold and misery would be fatal to the one survivor. I took pity on
him and set both him and his venerable mentor at liberty. On taking
his leave of me the latter said, "When she thinks of her eldest son,
the mother of my two pupils will curse you, but when she sees the
return of her youngest she will bless you, and the mother in whose
name you spared him."

The vigour with which the Russian troops had been repulsed in this
last contact having cooled their ardour, we did not see them again
for two days, which allowed us to reach Molodechno; but if the enemy
allowed us a momentary truce the cold increased its attack. The
temperature fell to 27 degrees of frost. Men and horses were falling
at every stride, frequently not to rise again. Notwithstanding, I
remained with the debris of my regiment, in the midst of which I made
my nightly bivouac in the snow. There was nowhere I could go to be
better off. My gallant officers and men regarded their commanding
officer as a living flag. They endeavoured to preserve me and offered
me all the care which our appalling situation permitted. The wound
to my knee prevented me from sitting astride my horse, and I had to
rest my leg on my horse's neck to keep it straight, which made me get
even colder. I was in great pain but there was nothing that could be
done.

The road was lined with the dead and dying, our march was slow and
silent. What remained of the guard formed a little square, in which
travelled the Emperor's carriage, in which was also King Murat.

On the fifth of December, after dictating his twenty-ninth bulletin,
which created stupefaction throughout all of France, the Emperor left
the army at Smorgoni to return to Paris. He was nearly captured at
Ochmiana by some Cossacks. The Emperor's departure greatly affected
the morale of the troops. Some blamed him and accused him of
abandoning them. Others approved, saying that it was the only way to
preserve France from civil war, and invasion by our so-called allies,
the majority of whom were waiting only for a favourable opportunity
to turn against us, but who would not dare to make a move if they
heard that Napoleon had returned to France, and was organising fresh
military forces.

Chap. 20.

On his departure, the Emperor handed the command of the remains of
the army to Murat, who in the circumstances proved unequal to the
task, which it must be admitted was extremely difficult. The cold
paralysed the mental and physical activity of everyone; all
organisation had broken down. Marshal Victor refused to relieve 2nd
Corps, who had formed the rear-guard since the Beresina, and Marshal
Ney had, unwillingly, to keep it there. Each morning a multitude of
dead were left in the bivouac where we had spent the night. I
congratulated myself on having, in September, made my men equip
themselves with sheepskin coats, a precaution which saved the lives
of many of them. The same applied to the supplies of food which we
had taken from Borisoff, for without these it would have been
necessary to dispute with the starving hordes over the dead bodies of
horses.

I may mention here that M. de Ségur claims that there were
instances of cannibalism. I have to say that there were so many dead
horses lying along the route that there was no need for anyone to
resort to this. What is more, it would be a great mistake to think
that the countryside was completely bare: there was shortage in
localities close to the road, which had been stripped by the army on
its march to Moscow, but the army had passed in a torrent, without
spreading out to the sides. Since then the harvest had been gathered
and the country had recovered somewhat, so that it was only necessary
to go for one or two leagues from the road to find plenty. It is
true, however, that only a well-organised detachment could do this
without being picked off by the parties of Cossacks which prowled
around us.

I arranged, with some other colonels, the formation of foraging
parties, who came back not only with bread and a few cattle, but with
sledges loaded with salted meat, flour and oatmeal taken from
villages which had not been abandoned by the peasantry. This proves
that if the Duc de Bassano and General Hogendorp, to whom the Emperor
had confided, in June, the administration of Lithuania, had done
their job properly, during the long period which they spent at Wilna,
they could have created large storage depots, but they were
interested only in supplying the town, without bothering about the
troops.

On the 6th of December, the cold increased and the temperature
fell to nearly minus thirty; so that this day was even more deadly
than its predecessors, particularly for troops who had not been
conditioned gradually to the climate. Amongst this number was the
Gratien division, consisting of 12,000 conscripts, who left Wilna on
the 4th to come in front of us. The sudden transition from warm
barracks to a bivouac in twenty-nine and a half degrees of frost,
within forty-eight hours was fatal to nearly all of them. The rigour
of the season had an even more terrible effect on the 200 Neapolitan
cavalrymen who formed King Murat's bodyguard. They also came to
join us after a long stay in Wilna, but they all died on the first
night which they spent on the snow.

The remnants of the Germans, Italians, Spaniards, Croats and other
foreigners whom we had led into Russia, saved their lives by means
which the French found repugnant: they deserted, went to villages
adjoining the road and awaited, in the warmth of their houses, the
arrival of the enemy. This often took some time for, surprisingly,
the Russian soldiers, used to spending the winter in draught-free
houses, warmed by continuously burning stoves, are more susceptible
to the cold than the inhabitants of other parts of Europe, and their
army suffered heavy losses; which explains the slowness of the
pursuit.

We did not understand why Koutousoff and his generals did no more
than follow us with a weak advance-guard, instead of attacking our
flanks and going to the head of our column to cut off all means of
retreat. But they were unable to carry out this manoeuvre which
would have finished us because their soldiers suffered as much from
the cold as we did, many of them dying as a result. The cold was so
intense that one could see a sort of steam coming from one's eyes and
ears, which froze on contact with the air and fell like grains of
millet onto one's chest, and one had to stop frequently to rid the
horses of huge icicles which were formed by their breath freezing on
the bits of their bridles.

There were, however, thousands of Cossacks, attracted by the hope
of plunder, who braved the seasonal bad weather and hung around our
columns, even attacking places where they saw baggage, though a few
shots would drive them off. Eventually, in order to harass us
without running any danger, for we had been forced to abandon our
artillery, they mounted light cannons on sledges, and used them to
fire on our men, until they saw an armed detachment advancing towards
them, when they took to their heels. These sneak attacks did little
real damage, but they became very unpleasant because of their
constant repetition. Many of the sick and wounded were taken and
despoiled by these raiders, some of whom had acquired an immense
amount of booty, and the greed for enrichment attracted new enemies,
who came from the ranks of our allies: these were the Poles.
Marshal de Saxe, the son of one of their kings, said rightly that
the Poles were the biggest thieves in the world, and would rob even
their own parents, so, not surprisingly, those in our ranks showed
little respect for the property of their allies. On the march or in
bivouac, they stole anything they saw; but as no one trusted them,
petty thieving became more difficult, so they decided to operate on a
grand scale. They organised themselves into bands, and at night they
would don peasant headgear and slip out of the bivouac to meet at an
agreed spot, then they would return to the camp shouting the Cossack
war-cry of "Hourra! Hourra!" which so frightened men whose morale had
been broken, that many of them fled abandoning their possessions and
food. The false Cossacks, after stealing all they could would return
to the camp before daylight and become once more Poles, ready to
become Cossacks again on the next night.

When this form of brigandage was disclosed, several generals and
colonels decided to put a stop to it. General Maison kept such a
close watch in the lines of 2nd Corps, that one fine night our guards
surprised a group of about fifty Poles at the moment when they were
about to play their role of Cossacks. Seeing that they were
surrounded these bandits had the impudence to claim that they were
just having a joke, but as this was not the time nor place for
laughter, General Maison had them all shot out of hand. It was some
time before we saw robbers of this kind again, but they reappeared
later.

On the 9th of December, we arrived at Wilna, where there were some
stores; but as the Duc de Bassano and General Hogendorp had left for
the Nieman, there was no one to give orders, so that there, as at
Smolensk, the officials demanded proper receipts for the issue of
food and clothing, which was virtually impossible because of the
disorganization of almost all the regiments. We lost some precious
time in this way. General Maison broke into several stores and his
men took some supplies, but the remainder was taken the next day by
the Russians. Soldiers from other corps wandered round the town in
the hope of being taken in by the inhabitants, but the people who
six months previously had welcomed the French with open arms, closed
their doors to us when they saw us in distress. Only the Jews would
accommodate those who could pay for temporary shelter.

Admitted neither to the stores nor to private houses, the majority
of famished men headed for the hospitals where, although there was
not enough food for all of them, they were at least sheltered from
the piercing cold. This respite was enough to decide 20,000 sick and
wounded, among whom were two hundred officers and eight generals, to
go no further. They had reached the end of their physical and mental
resources.

Lieutenant Hernoux, one of the most vigourous and brave officers
in my regiment, was so overcome by what he had been through that he
lay down on the snow, refusing to move, until he died. Several
soldiers, of all ranks, blew their brains out, to escape from their
suffering.

During the night 9th-10th December, in thirty degrees of frost,
some Cossacks came and began shooting at the gates of Wilna. Many
people thought this was the entire army of Koutousoff, and in a panic
they fled from the town. I regret to say that King Murat was among
them. He left without giving any orders, but Marshal Ney stayed and
organised the retreat as best he could. We quitted Wilna on the
morning of the 10th, leaving behind not only a great number of men,
but also an artillery park and a part of the army's funds.

We had scarcely left the town when the infamous Jews turned on the
men whom they had taken into their houses, stripped them of their
clothes and threw them out, naked into the snow. Some officers of
the Russian advance-guard, which was entering the town, were so
indignant at this behaviour that they killed a number of them.

In the midst of this chaos, Marshal Ney had urged onto the road to
Kowno all those whom he could stir into movement, but he had gone no
more than a league when he came to the hill of Ponari. This small
slope which in other circumstances the army would have hardly
noticed, now became a most serious obstacle because the ice with
which it was covered made it so slippery that the draught-horses were
unable to drag up it the carts and wagons, so that what remained of
the army's money would have fallen into the hands of the Cossacks had
not Marshal Ney ordered that the wagons should be opened and the
soldiers allowed to empty the strong-boxes. This sensible measure
gave rise later to assertions that the men had robbed the Imperial
treasury.

Several days before our arrival at Wilna, the intense cold having
killed many of our horses and made the rest unfit to ride, my
troopers all went on foot. I would have very much liked to join them
but my injury prevented this, so I took to a sledge to which was
harnessed one of my horses. This new method of transport gave me the
idea that I might by this means save the sick men, of whom I had a
considerable number. There is no dwelling in Russia so poor that it
does not have a sledge, and it was not long before I had a hundred or
so, each one drawn by a troop horse, carrying two sick men. This
method of travel seemed to General Castex to be so convenient that he
authorised me to put all my men on sledges. The commander of the
24th did the same and so the remains of the brigade became a
sledge-borne unit.

You may think that in doing this we deprived ourselves of any
means of defence, but you would be wrong, for we were much more
mobile with the sleds, which could go anywhere, and whose shafts held
up the horses, than we would have been in the saddle of animals which
fell down all the time.

As the road was covered with abandoned muskets, each of our
Chasseurs took two of them and an ample provision of cartridges, so
that if any Cossacks dared to approach, they were met by a volume of
fire which quickly drove them off. Our troopers could also fight on
foot if need be. In the evening we formed a big square with our
sledges, in the middle of which we lit our fires. Marshal Ney and
General Maison often came to spend the night here, where they were
secure, since the only enemies present were the Cossacks. This was
undoubtedly the first time anyone had seen a rear-guard mounted on
sledges; but it was a success in the prevailing conditions.

We continued to cover the retreat until, on the 13th of December,
we saw the Nieman once more, and Kowno (Kaunas), the last town in
Russia. It was at this spot that, five months earlier, we had
entered the empire of the Czars. How greatly had our circumstances
changed since then!... What appalling losses had we suffered!

On entering Kowno with the rear-guard, Marshal Ney found that the
only garrison was a small battalion of Germans some 400 strong, whom
he joined to the troops which he still had in order to defend the
town for as long as possible, to give the sick and wounded the
opportunity to cross into Prussia. When he heard that Ney had
arrived, King Murat left for Gumbinnen.

On the 14th, Platov's Cossacks, followed by two battalions of
Russian infantry, mounted on sledges together with several guns,
appeared at Kovno which they attacked at a number of points. But
Marshal Ney, helped by General Gérard, held them off until nightfall,
when he took us across the frozen Nieman, and was the last to leave
Russian territory.

We were now in Prussia, an allied country!... Marshal Ney, worn
out and ill, and regarding the campaign as finished, left us and went
to Gumbinnen, where there was a gathering of all the marshals. From
that moment the army had no overall commander, and each regiment
made its own way into Prussia. The Russians, who were at war with
this country, would have been entitled to follow us there, but
satisfied with having re-conquered their territory, and not sure
whether they should present themselves to the Prussians as friends or
enemies, they decided to await instructions from their government,
and halted at the Nieman. We took advantage of their hesitation to
head for the towns of old Prussia.

The Germans are usually humane; many of them had relatives or
friends in the regiments which had gone with us to Moscow. We were
received well enough, and I can promise you that having slept for
five months in the open, I was delighted to find myself in a warm
room and a comfortable bed; but this sudden transition from a glacial
bivouac to long-forgotten repose made me seriously ill. Nearly all
the army were affected in this way: a number of them died, including
Generals Éblé and Lariboisière, the artillery commanders.

In spite of the adequate reception given to us, the Prussians
remembered their defeat at Jena, and the way in which Napoleon had
treated them in 1807 when he seized part of their kingdom. Secretly
they hated us and would have disarmed and captured us at the first
signal from their King. Already General York, who led the numerous
Prussian units which the Emperor had so unwisely placed on the left
wing of the Grande Armée, and who were stationed between Tilsit and
Riga, had made a pact with the Russians and had sent back Marshal
Macdonald, whom, from some remnant of conscience, he did not dare to
arrest.

The Prussians of all classes approved of General York's treachery,
and as the provinces through which the sick and disarmed French
soldiers were then passing were full of Prussian troops, it is
probable that the inhabitants would have sought to take hold of them
had it not been that they feared for their King, who was in Berlin,
in the midst of a French army commanded by Marshal Augereau. This
fear and the repudiation by the King (the most honest man in his
kingdom) of General York, who was tried for treason and condemned to
death, prevented a general uprising against the French. We profited
from this to reach the Vistula and leave the country.

My regiment crossed the river near the fortress of Graudenz at
the same place at which we had crossed on our way to Russia. But this
time the crossing was much more dangerous because the thaw had
already begun some leagues upstream and the ice was covered by about
a foot of water and one could hear frightening crackings which
heralded a general break-up. Added to which, it was in the middle of
a dark night that I was given the order to cross the river
immediately, for the General had just been informed that the King of
Prussia had left Berlin and taken refuge in Silesia, in the midst of
a considerable armed force, and that the populace was becoming
restless and it was feared that they would rise against us as soon as
the thaw prevented us from crossing the river. We had to get across
at all costs, but this was a very dangerous operation, for the
Vistula is quite wide at Graudenz, and there were many gaps in the
ice which it was difficult to see by the light of the fires lit on
both banks.

As there was no possibility of crossing with our sledges, we
abandoned them. We led the horses and, preceded by some men armed
with poles to indicate the crevasses, we commenced the perilous
journey. We had icy water half-way up our legs, which was not good
for the sick and injured, but the physical discomfort was nothing
compared to the anxiety produced by the cracking of the ice, which
threatened, at any moment, to sink beneath our feet. The servant of
one of my officers fell into a crevasse and did not reappear. We
eventually reached the other side where we spent the night warming
ourselves in some fishermen's huts, and the next day we witnessed a
total thaw of the Vistula, which, had we delayed our crossing for a
few hours, would have made us prisoners.

From the spot where we had crossed the Vistula, we made our way to
the little town of Sweld, where my regiment had been in cantonment
before the war, and it was there that I greeted the year 1813. The
year which had ended was certainly the hardest of my life.

Chap. 21.

Let us now cast an eye rapidly over the reasons for the failure of
the Russian campaign.

Undoubtedly the principal one of these was Napoleon's error in
believing that he could make war in the north of Europe, before
ending that which had been going on for a long time in Spain, where
his armies were suffering serious reverses, at a time when he was
preparing to invade Russian territory. The soldiers of French
nationality, being thus spread from north to south, were in
insufficient numbers everywhere. Napoleon thought he could supplement
them by joining to their battalions those of his allies, but this was
to dilute a good wine with muddy water. The quality of the French
divisions was lowered, the allied troops were never better than
mediocre, and it was they, who, during the retreat, sowed disorder in
the Grande Armée.

A no less fatal cause of our defeat was the inadequacy, or indeed
the total lack of organisation in the occupied countries. Instead of
doing as we had done during the campaigns of Austerlitz, Jena and
Friedland, and leaving behind the advancing army small bodies of
troops which, stretching back in echelon, could keep in regular touch
with one another to ensure tranquillity in our rear, to expedite the
forwarding of munitions and individual soldiers and the departure of
convoys of wounded, we unwisely pushed all our available forces
towards Moscow, so that between that city and the Nieman, if one
excepts Wilna and Smolensk, there was not one garrison, nor storage
depot, nor hospital. Two hundred leagues of countryside were left to
roving bands of Cossacks. The result of this was that men who had
recovered from illness were unable to rejoin their units, and as
there was no system of evacuation, we had to keep all the wounded
from the battle for Moscow in the monastery of Kolotskoi for more than
two months. They were still there at the time of the retreat and were
nearly all taken prisoner, while those who felt able to follow the
army died of exhaustion and cold on the roads. Finally, the
retreating troops had no supply of stored food in a country which
produces vast amounts of grain.

This lack of small garrisons in our rear was the reason why of the
more than 100,000 prisoners taken by the French during the campaign,
not a single one left Russia, because there was no way in which they
could be passed back from hand to hand. All these prisoners escaped
with ease and made their way back to the Russian army, which thus
recovered some of its losses, while ours increased from day to day.

The absence of interpreters also contributed to our disasters,
more than you might think. How, for example can one obtain
information about an unknown country, if one cannot exchange a single
word with the inhabitants? When, on the bank of the Beresina, General
Partouneaux mistook the road, and instead of taking that leading to
Studianka, took the one leading to General Wittgenstein's position,
he had with him a peasant from Borisoff, who, not knowing a word of
French, tried to indicate by signs that the encampment was Russian,
but, as he was not understood, through lack of an interpreter we lost
a fine division of 7 or 8000 men.

In very similar circumstances, during October, the 3rd
Lancers, taken by surprise, in spite of the advice of their guide,
whom they did not understand, lost two hundred men. Now the Emperor
had in his army some bodies of Polish cavalry, nearly all of whose
officers and most of their N.C.O.s. spoke fluent Russian; but they
were left in their regiments whereas some should have been taken
from each unit and attached to generals and colonels, where they
would have been extremely useful. I consider the provision of
interpreters an important but often neglected element in military
operations.

I have already commented on the major mistake that was made in
forming the two wings of the army from the Prussian and Austrian
contingents. The Emperor must have greatly regretted this, firstly
on learning that the Austrians had given passage to the Russian army
of Tchitchakoff, who then cut our line of retreat on the banks of the
Beresina, and secondly when told of the treachery of General York,
the head of the Prussian Corps. His regret must have increased
further during and after the retreat, for if he had formed the two
wings from French troops and had taken to Moscow the Austrians and
Prussians, the two latter, having suffered their share of the
hardships and the casualties would have been as much enfeebled as all
the other corps, while Napoleon would have kept intact the French
troops he had left on the two wings. I would go even further and say
that to weaken Prussia and Austria Napoleon should have required from
them contingents triple or quadruple the size of those which they
contributed. It has been said, with hindsight, that neither of the
two states would have complied with such a demand, but I disagree;
the King of Prussia who had come to Dresden to beg the Emperor to
accept his son as an aide-de-camp would not have dared to refuse,
while Austria, in the hope of recovering some of the rich provinces
which Napoleon had snatched from her, would have done everything to
satisfy him. The overconfidence which Napoleon had, in 1812, in the
fidelity of those two states was his undoing.

It is often claimed that the fire of Moscow, for which praise is
given to the courage and resolve of the Russian government and
General Rostopschine, was the principal cause of the failure of the
1812 campaign. This assertion seems to me to be contestable. To
begin with the destruction of Moscow was not so complete that there
did not remain enough houses, palaces, churches and barracks to
accommodate the entire army, and there is evidence of this in a
report which I have seen in the hands of my friend General Gourgaud,
who was then principal aide-de-camp to the Emperor. It was not
therefore lack of shelter which forced the French to quit Moscow. 
Many people think that it was the fear of food shortage, but this is
also erroneous, for reports made to the Emperor by M. le Comte Daru,
the quartermaster-general of the army, show that even after the fire
there was in the city an immense quantity of provisions, which would
have supplied the army for six months, so it was not the prospect of
starvation which decided the Emperor to retreat. These facts would
appear to indicate that the Russian government had failed to achieve
its aim, if this was indeed the aim it was pursuing; but in reality,
its aim was quite different.

The court wished, in fact, to deliver a mortal blow to the ancient
aristocracy of the Boyars by destroying the city which was the
centre for their continual opposition. The Russian government,
although entirely despotic, has to pay much attention to the great
nobles, whose displeasure has cost several emperors their lives. The
richest and most powerful of these noblemen made Moscow the backdrop
for their intrigues, so the government, more and more alarmed at the
growth of the city, saw in the French invasion an opportunity for its
destruction. General Rostopschine, who was one of the authors of
this plan, was entrusted with its execution, the blame for which he
later laid on the French. But the aristocracy was not taken in: it
accused the government so loudly and manifested so much discontent at
the useless burning of its palaces that the Emperor Alexander, to
avoid a personal catastrophe, was obliged not only to permit the
rebuilding of the city, but to banish Rostopschine who, in spite of
his protestations of patriotism, died in Paris, hated by the Russian
nobility.

Whatever the motives may have been for the fire of Moscow, I think
that its preservation would have been more harmful than useful to the
French, for in order to control a city inhabited by some 300,000
citizens always ready to revolt, it would have been necessary to
take from the army, and place as a garrison in Moscow, 50,000 men,
who, when the time came to retreat, would have been assailed by the
inhabitants, whereas the fire having driven out almost all the
populace, a few patrols were enough to ensure tranquillity.

The only influence which Moscow had on the events of 1812 was due
to the fact that Napoleon was unable to understand that Alexander
could not sue for peace without being assassinated by his subjects,
and believed that to leave the city without a treaty would be to
admit that he was not able to hold on to it. The French Emperor
insisted, therefore, on staying as long as possible in Moscow, where
he wasted more than a month waiting in vain for a proposal of
peace. This delay was fatal for it allowed the winter to become
established before the French army could go into cantonments in
Poland. Even if Moscow had been preserved intact it would not have
made any difference; the disaster arose because the retreat was not
prepared in advance and was carried out at the wrong time. It was
not difficult to forecast that it would be very cold in Russia during
the winter!... But, I repeat, the hope of a peace misled Napoleon
and was the sole cause of his long stay in Moscow.

The losses suffered by the Grande Armée were enormous, but they
have been exaggerated. I have already said that I have seen a
situation report, covered with notes in Napoleon's hand, which gives
the figure of those who crossed the Nieman as 325,000, of whom
155,000 were French. Reports issued in February 1813 gave the number
of French who returned across the Nieman as 60,000, added to this
figure can be that of 30,000 prisoners returned by the Russians
after the peace of 1814. Giving a total loss of French lives of
65,000.

The loss inflicted on my regiment was, in proportion, much smaller. 
At the beginning of the campaign we had 1018 men in the ranks and we
received 30 reinforcements at Polotsk, so that I took into Russia
1048 troopers. Of this number I had 109 killed, 77 taken prisoner, 65
injured and 104 missing. This amounted to a loss of 355 men, so that
after the return of the men whom I had sent to Warsaw, the regiment,
which from the bank of the Vistula had been sent beyond the Elbe to
the principality of Dessau, had in the saddle 693 men, all of whom
had fought in the Russian campaign.

When he saw this figure, the Emperor, who from Paris was
supervising the reorganising of his army, thought it was a mistake,
and sent the report back to me with an order to produce a corrected
version. When I returned the same figure once more, he ordered
General Sébastiani to go and inspect my regiment and give him a
nominal roll of the men present. This operation having removed all
doubt, and confirmed my report, I received a few days later a letter
from the Major-general couched in the most flattering terms and
addressed to all officers and N.C.O.s and particularly to me, in which
Prince Berthier stated that he had been directed by the Emperor to
express his Majesty's satisfaction at the care we had taken of our
men's lives, and his praise for the conduct of all our officers and
N.C.O.s.

After having had this letter read out before all the squadrons, I
had intended to keep it as a precious memento for my family, but on
further consideration, I decided that it would not be right to
deprive the regiment of a document in which was expressed the
Emperor's satisfaction with all its members, so I sent it to be included in the regimental archive. I have frequently repented of this, for scarcely a year had passed before the government of Louis XVIII was
substituted for that of the Emperor, and the 23rd Chasseurs was
combined with the 3rd. The archives of the two regiments were
collected together, badly cared for, and after the total disbanding
of the army in 1815, they disappeared into the yawning gulf of the
war office. I tried in vain, after the revolution of 1830, to
recover this letter, which was so flattering to my old regiment and
to me, but it could not be found.

Chap. 22.

The year 1813 began very badly for France. The remains of our
army, returning from Russia, had scarcely crossed the Vistula and
started to reorganise,when the treachery of General York and the
troops under his command forced us to retire beyond the Elbe, and
shortly to abandon Berlin and all of Prussia, which rose against us,
helped by the units which Napoleon had imprudently left there. The
Russians speeded up their march as much as possible, and came to join
the Prussians, whose King now declared war on the French Emperor.

Napoleon had in northern Germany no more than two divisions,
commanded, it is true, by Augereau, but consisting mainly of
conscripts. As for those French troops who had fought in Russia,
once they were well fed and no longer slept on the snow, they
recovered their strength, and could have been used oppose the enemy;
but our cavalry were almost all without horses, very few infantrymen
had kept their weapons, we had no artillery, the majority of the
soldiers had no footwear, and their uniform was in rags. The
government had employed part of the year 1812 in making equipment of
all sorts, but owing to the negligence of the war department, then in
the hands of M. Lacuée, Comte de Cessac, no regiment received the
clothing allotted to it. The conduct of the administration in these
circumstances deserves some comment.

When a regimental depot had got together, at great expense, the
numerous items required by its active battalions or squadrons, the
administration arranged with forwarding agents the transport of the
supplies as far as Mainz, which was then part of the Empire. These
goods were in no danger while crossing France to the bank of the
Rhine; however, M. de Cessac ordered a detachment of troops to escort
them as far as Mainz. There they were handed over to foreign agents,
who were supposed to forward them to Magdeberg, Berlin, and the
Vistula, without any French supervision. This undertaking was
carried out with so much bad faith and delay that the packages
containing the supplies of clothing and footwear took six to eight
months to go from Mainz to the Vistula, a distance they should have
covered in forty days.

This had been no more than a serious inconvenience when the French
armies were in peaceful occupation of Germany and Poland, but it
became a calamity after the Russian campaign. More than two hundred
barges laden with supplies for our regiments were ice-bound in the
Bromberg canal, near Nackel, when we passed this point in January
1813, but as there was, in this immense convoy, no French agent, and
as the Prussian bargees already considered us as enemies, no one told
us that these vessels were loaded with goods. The next day the
Prussians took possession of this huge quantity of clothing and
footwear and used it to equip several of the regiments they sent
against us. Although the result of this was that the increasing cold
killed a large number of French soldiers, there are those who boast
of our efficient administration!

The lack of order in the French army's line of march as it went
through Prussia was due principally to the ineptitude of Murat, who
had assumed command after the departure of the Emperor, and later to
the feebleness of Prince Eugène de Beauharnais, the Vice-Roi of
Italy.

When the time came for us to re-cross the Elbe and enter the
territory of the Confederation of the Rhine, the Emperor, before
removing his troops from Poland and Prussia, wanted to facilitate a
return to the offensive by leaving strong garrisons in the fortresses
which could assure the crossing of the Vistula, the Oder and the
Elbe, such as Thorn, Stettin, Magdeberg, Danzig, Dresden, etc.

This major decision on the part of the Emperor may be looked at in
two ways. So it has been praised by some knowledgeable military
observers and condemned by others.

The first party say that the need to provide a place of rest and
safety for the numerous sick and wounded, which the army brought back
from Russia, compelled the Emperor to occupy these fortresses, which,
in addition, could store a massive amount of military equipment and
foodstuffs. They add that these fortresses hindered enemy movements
and by investing them, the enemy reduced the number of troops which
could be actively employed against us; and finally that if the
reinforcements which Napoleon was bringing from France and Germany
enabled him to win a battle, the possession of the forts would help
to ensure a new conquest of Prussia, which would bring us to the
banks of the Vistula and force the Russians to return to their
country.

In reply to this it is claimed that Napoleon weakened his army by
breaking it up into so many scattered units who could not give each
other mutual assistance; that it was not necessary to compromise the
security of France in order to save a some thousands of sick and
wounded, very few of whom would return to active service, and of whom
nearly all died in the hospitals. It was also said that the
regiments of Italians, Poles, and Germans from the Confederation of
the Rhine, which the Emperor mingled with the garrisons in order to
lessen the requirement of French units, would not be much use; and in
fact almost all the foreign troops fought very badly and ended up by
going over to the enemy. Finally it was claimed that the occupation
of the forts gave very little trouble to the Russian and Prussian
armies, which, after blockading them with an observation force, could
continue their march towards France. Which is what actually
happened.

I find myself in agreement with latter of these two opinions,
because it is evident that the forts could be of use to us only if we
overcame the Russian and Prussian armies, which was a reason for
concentrating our disposable manpower rather than dispersing it.

It might be said that as the enemy would no longer have to
blockade the forts, they would thus have an increase in their
manpower to match ours. But this is not so, for the enemy would have
to leave strong garrisons in the forts which we abandoned, while we
could make use of the men which were at present immobilised. I may
add that the defence of these useless forts deprived the army in the
field of the services of a number of experienced generals, among
others, Marshal Davout, who alone was worth several divisions. I
accept that during a campaign one must leave behind several brigades
to guard places on which the safety of a country depends, such as
Metz, Lille, and Strasbourg, in the case of France, but the forts
situated on the Vistula, the Oder, and the Elbe, two or three hundred
leagues from France, were of only conditional importance, that is to
say dependent on the success of our army in the field. When this did
not come about, over eighty thousand men whom the Emperor had left
in those garrisons in 1812 were obliged to surrender.

The position of France in the first months of 1813 was extremely
critical, for in the south our armies in Spain had suffered some very
serious reverses due to the weakening of their strength by the
continual withdrawal of regiments, while the English ceaselessly sent
reinforcements to Wellington, who had fought a brilliant campaign
during 1812, and had captured Cuidad-Rodrigo, Badajoz, and the fort of
Salamanca, had won the battle of Arapiles, occupied Madrid and now
threatened the Pyrenees.

In the north, the numerous battle-hardened soldiers whom Napoleon
had led into Russia had nearly all died in action or of cold and
starvation. The still-intact Prussian army had just joined the
Russians, and the Austrians were on the point of following their
example. Finally, the sovereigns, and more importantly, the people of
the Germanic Confederation, stirred up by the English, were wavering
in their allegiance to France. The Prussian Baron Stein, an able and
enterprising man, took this opportunity to publish a number of
pamphlets in which he appealed to all Germans to shake off the yoke
of Napoleon and regain their liberty. This appeal was readily
received, as the passage, the accommodation, and the maintenance of the
French troops who had occupied Germany since 1806 had occasioned
great expense, to which was added the confiscation of English
merchandise, as a result of Napoleon's continental blockade. The
Confederation of the Rhine would have defected if the rulers of the
various states of which it was composed had decided to listen to the
wishes of their subjects; but none of them dared budge, so ingrained
was their habit of obedience to the French Emperor, and so great
their fear of seeing him arrive at any moment, to head the
considerable forces which he was organising with such speed and
building up constantly in Germany.

The greater part of the French nation still had the greatest
confidence in Napoleon. Those who were well-informed blamed him, no
doubt, for having the previous year led his army to Moscow, and in
particular for having awaited the winter there, but the mass of the
people, who were used to considering the Emperor as infallible and
had no notion of the events of this campaign nor of the losses
suffered by our men, saw only the glory which the occupation of
Moscow reflected on our arms, and were more than willing to give the
Emperor the means to heap victories round his eagles. Every
department and every town gave patriotic gifts of horses, though the
numerous levies of conscripts and money soon cooled this enthusiasm.
Nevertheless, the nation complied with reasonably good grace, and
battalions and squadrons seemed to rise out of the ground, as if by
some enchantment. It was remarkable that after all the levies of
conscripts which had been made over the last twenty years, we had
never recruited a finer body of men. There were several explanations
for this.

To begin with, each of the eight hundred departments which then
existed had, for several years, maintained a company of so-called
departmental infantry, a sort of praetorian guard for the Prefects,
who made a point of selecting men of a high physical standard for
this duty. These men never left the principal towns of the
department, where they were very well housed, fed, and clad, and as
they had very few duties to perform, they were able to build up their
physical strength, for most of them led this life for six or seven
years, during which time they were exercised regularly in the
handling of arms, and in marches and manoeuvres. They lacked only
the "baptism of fire" to become complete soldiers. These companies,
depending on the importance of the department, were of 150 to 250
men. The Emperor sent them all to the army, where they were absorbed
into the line regiments.

In the second place there was called into service a great number
of conscripts from previous years, who had by protection, cunning, or
temporary illness obtained deferment, that is to say permission to
remain at home until further orders. These older men were nearly all
strong and vigourous.

These measures were legal; but what was not was the call-up of
those who had already taken part in the ballot for conscription and
whose names had not been drawn. These people, to whom this lottery
had given the legal right to remain civilians, were nevertheless
compelled to take up arms if they were less than thirty years old. 
This levy produced a large number of men fit to support the hardships
of war. There was some objection raised to this measure, mainly in
the Midi and the Vendée, but the greater part of the contingent fell
into line, so great was the habit of obedience. This meekness on the
part of the populace enticed the government into practices even more
illegal and more dangerous withal, in that they struck at the upper
class; for after forcibly enlisting men who had been exempted by lot,
the same measure was applied to those who had quite legally paid
for a replacement, and they were forced into the army, although some
families had been financially strained and even ruined in an attempt
to save their sons, for at that time replacements cost from 12 to
20,000 francs, which had to be paid in cash. There were even young
men who had been replaced two or three times, but who were still
forced to go, and it was not unknown for one to find himself serving
in the same company as the man he had paid to be his substitute! This
injustice was the result of advice given by Clarke, the Minister for
War and Savary, the Minister of Police, who persuaded the Emperor
that to prevent any disturbance during the war, it was necessary to
remove the sons of influential families from the country and put them
in the army, to serve, in some respects, as hostages!... To reduce
somewhat the odium felt by the upper class towards this imposition,
the Emperor created, under the name of "Guards of Honour," four
regiments of light cavalry, specially reserved for young gentlemen of
good family. These units, which were given a brilliant Hussar's
uniform, were commanded by general officers.

To these more or less legal levies, the Emperor added the men
produced by an early conscription and a number of battalions formed
from the seamen, sailors, and gunners of the navy, all trained men,
used to handling arms and bored with the monotonous life in port,
keen to join their comrades in the army. There were more than thirty
thousand of these seamen, and it did not take long for them to become
first class infantry soldiers. Finally the Emperor, obliged to use
every means to rebuild his army, of which the greater part had
perished in the frozen wastes of Russia, further weakened his forces
in Spain by taking not only several thousands of men to make up his
guard, but several brigades and entire divisions composed of old
soldiers, accustomed to hardship and danger.

For their part, the Russians, and particularly the Prussians,
were preparing for war. The indefatigable Baron de Stein travelled
the provinces, preaching a crusade against the French, and organising
his "Tugenbond" whose members swore to take up arms for the
liberation of Germany. This society, which stirred up so many
enemies against us, operated openly in Prussia, which was already at
war with the Emperor, and insinuated itself into the states and
armies of the Confederation of the Rhine, despite the opposition of
some sovereigns and with the tacit permission of others, to such an
extent that almost the whole of Germany was, in secret, our enemy,
and the contingents which were joined to our military forces were
prepared to betray us at the first opportunity, as events would
shortly show. These events would not have taken so long to come
about if the German's natural laxity and sloth had not prevented them
from acting sooner than they did, for the debris of the French army
which crossed the Elbe in 1812 stayed peacefully in cantonment on
the left bank of the river for the first four months of 1813, without
being attacked by the Russians and Prussians who were stationed on
the opposite bank, and who did not feel themselves strong enough to
do so, although Prussia had mobilised its landwehr, made up of all
fit men, and Bernadotte, forgetting that he was born a Frenchman, had
declared war on us, and had joined his Swedish troops to those
belonging to the enemies of his native country.

During the period which we spent on the left bank of the Elbe,
although the army received continual reinforcements, there was still
very little in the way of cavalry except for some regiments, one of
which was mine, so we had been allotted as cantonments several
communes and the two little towns of Brenha and Landsberg, in
pleasant country near Magdeberg. While we were there I had a great
disappointment. The Emperor wished to speed the organisation of the
new levies and thought that for this purpose the temporary presence
of unit commanders at their regimental depots would be useful. So he
decided that all colonels should return to France except those who
had a certain number of men in their unit, the number fixed for the
cavalry was four hundred, and I had more than six hundred mounted
men!... I was therefore forced to stay behind, when I so much longed
to embrace my wife and the child which she had given me during my
absence.

To the disappointment which I felt was added another vexation, the
good General Castex, whom I had held in such high regard during the
Russian campaign, was to leave us and join the mounted Grenadiers of
the Guard. His brigade, and that of General Corbineau, who had been
given the position of aide-de-camp to the Emperor, were both put in
charge of General Exelmans. General Wathiez was to replace Castex,
and General Maurin to replace Corbineau. These three generals had,
however, gone to France after the Russian campaign and I was the only
colonel left, so General Sébastiani, to whose corps the new division
was to be attached, ordered me to take over the command, which added
a great deal of work to my regimental duties, for I had to make
frequent visits, in appalling weather, to the cantonments of the
other three regiments. The wound to my knee, although it had healed,
was still painful and I did not know if I would be able to remain on
duty until the end of the winter, when after a month General Wathiez
returned to take up the command of the division.

A few days later, without my having asked, I was ordered to go to
France to organise the large number of recruits and horses which had
been sent to my regimental depot. The depot was in the department of
Jemmapes, at Mons in Belgium, which was then part of the Empire. I
left immediately and travelled quickly. I realised that as I was
authorised to go to France on duty, it would not be acceptable for me
to request even the shortest period of leave to go to Paris, so I
welcomed the offer made by Mme. Desbrières, my mother-in-law, to
bring my wife and my son to Mons. After a year of separation, during
which I had experienced so many dangers, it was with the greatest
pleasure that I once more saw my wife, and held in my arms our little
Alfred, now eight months old. This was one of the happiest days of
my life! The joy which I felt on holding my little son was increased
by the recollection that he very nearly became an orphan on the day
of his birth.

I spent the end of April and the months of May and June at the
depot, where I was extremely busy. Many recruits had been sent to
the 23rd, men of good physique and from a warrior race, for they
mostly came from the neighbourhood of Mons, the former province of
Hainault, from where the Austrians used to draw their finest
cavalrymen, at the time when they possessed the low countries. These
are people who love and care well for horses, but as the horses which
come from this district are a little too heavy for Chasseurs, I
obtained permission to buy some in the Ardennes, from where we
obtained a fair selection.

I found at the depot some good officers and N.C.O.s, several of
whom had been in Russia and had gone to the depot to recover from
injuries or illness, and the ministry sent me some young officers
from the school of cavalry at Saint-Cyr. From this material I made
up various squadrons, which, although not perfect, could mingle
without difficulty with the old cavalrymen from Russia whom I had
left on the banks of the Elbe, and throughout whom they would be
spread on their arrival. As soon as a squadron was ready it was sent
off to join the army.

Chap. 23.

While I was busily engaged in rebuilding my regiment, as were many
other colonels, mainly from the cavalry, who were in France for the
same reason, hostilities broke out on the Elbe, which had been
crossed by the allies.

The Emperor left Paris, and on the 25th of April he was at
Naumbourg, in Saxony, at the head of 170,000 men, of whom only a
third were French, a detachment of troops which had been sent to
Germany having not yet arrived. The other two thirds of his army was
formed of units from the Confederation of the Rhine, the majority of
which were very reluctant to fight on his behalf. General
Wittgenstein, who had gained some celebrity following our disaster at
the Beresina, although the weather did us far more harm than his
manoeuvres, was in overall command of the Russian and German troops,
a combined force of 300,000 men, which faced Napoleon's army on the
28th of April, in the region of Leipzig.

On the 1st of May there was a sharp engagement at Poserna, in an
area where Gustavus Adolphus had died, during which Marshal Bessières
was killed by a cannon-ball. The Emperor regretted his death more
than did the army, which had not forgotten that it was the advice
given to Napoleon by the Marshal in the evening of the battle for
Moscow which had deterred him from achieving victory by committing
his guards to the action, which had he done, it would have changed
the outcome and led to the complete destruction of the Russian
force.

The day after Bessières' death, while Napoleon was continuing his
march towards Leipzig, he was attacked unexpectedly on the flank,
by the Russo-Prussians, who had crossed the river Elster during the
night. In this battle, which was given the name of the Battle of
Lutzen, there was some fierce fighting, in which the troops newly
arrived from France showed the greatest courage, the marine regiments
being particularly notable. The enemy, soundly beaten, withdrew
towards the Elbe, but the French, having almost no cavalry, were able
to take few prisoners and their victory was incomplete. 
Nevertheless it produced a great moral effect in Europe, and above
all in France, for it showed that our troops had retained their
fighting qualities, and that only the frosts of Russia had overcome
them in 1812.

The Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia, after being present
at Lutzen and witnessing the defeat of their armies, had gone to
Dresden, from where they had to withdraw on the approach of the
victorious Napoleon, who took possession of the town on the 8th of
May, where he was shortly joined by his ally, the King of Saxony.
After a brief stay in Dresden, the French crossed the Elbe and
pursued the Prusso-Russians, whose rear-guard they caught up with and
defeated at Bischofswerda.

The Emperor Alexander, dissatisfied with Wittgenstein, assumed
personal command of the allied armies, but having been defeated in
his turn by Napoleon at Wurtchen, it seems likely that he recognised
his lack of ability in this field, for he soon relinquished the
position.

The Russo-Prussians having come to a halt and dug in at Bautzen,
the French emperor ordered Ney to outflank their position, which
resulted in a victory on the 21st of May, which lack of cavalry once
more rendered incomplete though the enemy lost 18,000 men and fled in
disorder.

On the 22nd, the French, in pursuit of the Russians, made contact
with their rear-guard at the pass of Reichenbach. What little cavalry
Napoleon had was commanded by General Latour-Maubourg, a most
distinguished soldier, who led it with such élan that the enemy were
overwhelmed and abandoned the field after heavy losses. Those
suffered by the French, though fewer, were most painful. The cavalry
general, Bruyère, a fine officer, had both his legs carried away and
died of this dreadful injury; but the saddest event of the day was
the result of a cannon-ball which, after killing General Kirgener
(brother-in-law of Marshal Lannes), mortally wounded Marshal Duroc,
the grand marshal of the palace, a man liked by everyone, and
Napoleon's oldest and best friend. Marshal Duroc survived for a few
hours following his injury, and the Emperor who was at his side
showed every sign of the deepest grief. Those who witnessed this
melancholy scene, noted that the Emperor, who was forced to leave his
friend by the demands of duty, parted from him in tears, having given
him a rendez-vous in "A better world!"

The French army now pressed on into Silesia, whose capital,
Breslau (Wroclaw) it occupied on the 1st of June. The allies, and in
particular the Prussians, much alarmed, realised that in spite of
their boasts, they were unable, without help, to stop the French, and
wanted to gain a respite in the hope that the Austrians would end
their hesitation and join forces with them. They sent out envoys,
given the task of soliciting an armistice which, subject to the
mediation of Austria, would lead, they said, to a peace treaty. 
Napoleon thought that he should agree to this armistice, and so it
was signed on the 4th of June, to last until the 10th of August.

While Napoleon was going from success to success, Marshal Oudinot
was defeated at Luckau, and lost 1100 men. The Emperor hoped that
during the armistice the numerous reinforcements from France which
he was awaiting, particularly the cavalry which had been sorely
missed, would make their appearance, and would take part in a new
campaign if that became unavoidable. There were, however, several
generals who regretted that the Emperor had not followed up his
victory. They argued that if the armistice permitted us to build up
our reserves, it did the same for the Russo-Prussians, who hoped that
they would be joined by the Austrians, as well as by the Swedes, who
were marching to their aid. The former were not yet ready, but they
would have more than two months to organise and put into motion their
numerous troops.

When at Mons I heard of the victories of Lutzen and Bautzen, I
was sorry not to have been there, but my regrets were diminished when
I found that my regiment had not been involved; it was, in fact,
before Magdeburg on the road to Berlin. M. Lacour, a former
aide-de-camp to General Castex, had been posted as squadron commander
to the 23rd, about the end of 1812, and he took command of the
regiment in my absence. He was a brave man, who had acquired some
education by reading, which gave him pretentions which were out of
place in a military milieu; in addition to which his lack of
experience as a commanding officer, resulted in the regiment
suffering losses which should have been avoided, and of which I shall
speak later. While I was at the depot, I gained as second squadron
commander M. Pozac, a very fine officer in all respects who had been
awarded a "sabre of honour" for his conduct at the battle of Marengo.

Towards the end of June, all the colonels who had been sent to
France to organise the new forces, having completed this task, were
ordered to return to their posts with the army, although hostilities
would be suspended for some time. I was therefore forced to leave my
family, with whom I had passed so many happy days, but duty called
and I had to obey.

I once more took the road to Germany, and went first to Dresden,
to where the Emperor had summoned all the colonels in order to
question them about the composition of the detachments they had sent
to the army. There I learned something which annoyed me greatly! At
the depot I had organised four superb squadrons of 150 men each. The
two first of which (happily the smartest and best) had joined the
regiment; the third had been taken, by Imperial decision, and sent to
Hamburg to be incorporated in the 28th Chasseurs, one of the weakest
regiments in the army. This was a lawful order, and I accepted it
without complaint: but it was not the same when I was told that the
4th squadron which I had sent from Mons, having been noticed as it
passed through Cassel, by Jérôme, the King of Westphalia, this prince
had found it so desirable that he had, on his own authority, enrolled
it in his Guard! I knew that the Emperor, very irritated that his
brother had taken it upon himself to make off with some Imperial
troops, had ordered him to send them on their way immediately, and I
had hopes that I would receive them; but King Jérôme got hold of some
of the Emperor's aides, who represented to his Majesty that as the
King of Westphalia's Guard was composed entirely of Germans, who were
not by any means to be relied upon, it was right that he should have
a French squadron on whose loyalty he could count; in the second
place the King had, at much expense, equipped the squadron with the
brilliant uniform of Hussars of his Guard; and finally, that even
without this squadron, the 23rd would still be the strongest regiment
in the French cavalry. Whatever the reason, my squadron remained in
the Westphalian guard, in spite of my loud protests. I could not get
over this loss, and found it supremely unjust that I should be
deprived of the fruits of my trouble and labour.

I rejoined my regiment not far from the Oder in the region of
Zagan, where it was in cantonment in the little town of Freistadt, as
was Exelman's division, of which it was a part.

During our stay in this area, a curious incident occurred. A
trooper by the name of Tantz, the only bad character in the regiment,
having got thoroughly drunk, threatened an officer who had ordered
him to be put in the police cell. Put before a court-martial he was
found guilty, condemned to death and the sentence confirmed. Now
when the guard, commanded by Warrant-officer Boivin, went to fetch
Tantz to take him to the place where he was to be shot, they found
him in the cell completely naked, on the pretext that it was too hot.

The warrant-officer, a brave fellow, but one whose brains did not
match his courage, instead of making him dress, told him to wrap
himself in a cloak. However, having arrived on the draw-bridge across
the large moat which surrounded the château, Tantz threw the cloak in
the faces of the guard, leapt into the moat which he swam across, and
having reached the other side made off to join the enemy on the
opposite bank of the Oder. We never heard anything more of him!... 
I broke the warrant-officer for being so careless, but he soon
regained his rank, by an act of bravery which I shall describe
shortly.

The squadrons which I had recently added to the regiment, brought
its strength up to 993 men, of whom almost 700 had fought in the
Russian campaign. The newly arrived soldiers were a well-built body
of men who had nearly all come from the departmental legion of
Jemmapes, which made it easier to train them as cavalrymen; I
incorporated the newcomers in the older squadrons. Both sides were
preparing for the coming struggle but our opponents had made good
use of their time, and had presented us with a powerful adversary by
persuading the Austrians to take up arms against us.

The Emperor Napoleon, whom numerous victories had accustomed to
taking little account of his enemies, believed himself to be once
more invincible, when he saw himself in Germany at the head of
300,000 men, but he did not examine sufficiently closely the
composition of the forces with which he was about to oppose the whole
of Europe, united against him.

The French army had received an intake of fine quality recruits,
and had never looked better; but with the exception of some
regiments, the majority of these new soldiers had never been in
action, and the disasters of the Russian campaign had generated an
uneasy feeling in the corps, the effects of which were still felt. 
Our superb army was better suited to being put on show to obtain
terms, than to being engaged, at this moment, in combat. Nearly all
the generals and colonels, who saw the regiments at close quarters,
were of the opinion that they needed some years of peace.
If one were to pass from the French army to an examination of
those of her allies, one would see nothing but apathy, ill-will and
the wish for an opportunity to betray France! Everything should have
led Napoleon to treat with his enemies, and to do this he should have
first settled with his father-in-law, the Emperor of Austria, by
giving back to him Dalmatia, Istria, the Tyrol, and some of the other
provinces which he had seized in 1805 and 1809. Some concessions of
this sort offered to Prussia would have quietened the allies who, it
seems, were willing to return to Napoleon the colonies which had been
taken from France and to guarantee his occupation of all the
provinces this side of the Rhine and the Alps, and also upper Italy;
but in return he would have to give up Spain, Poland, Naples, and
Westphalia. These terms were acceptable; but at a conference with
the diplomats sent to discuss them, Napoleon was rude to
M. Metternich, the principal member of the delegation, and sent them
away without any concessions. It is said that as he saw them leave
the palace of Dresden, he remarked "We'll give them a sound
thrashing!" The Emperor seemed to forget that the enemy armies were
almost three times the size of his own forces. He had, in fact, no
more than 320,000 men in Germany, while the allies could put in the
line almost 800,000 fighting men.

The Emperor's birthday was on the 15th of August, but he ordered
that it should be celebrated in advance, because the armistice ended
on the 10th. The rejoicings of Saint-Napoleon's day then took place
in the cantonments. This was the last time that the French army
celebrated the birthday of its Emperor! There was not much
enthusiasm, for even the least perceptive of officers was aware that
we were on the brink of a catastrophe, and the worries of the
commanders affected the morale of their subalterns. However each one
prepared to do his duty, though with little hope of success, in view
of the great inferiority in numbers of our army as opposed to the
innumerable troops of the enemy. Already, among our allies of the
Confederation of the Rhine, the Saxon General Thielmann had deserted
with his brigade to join the Prussians, after trying to hand over to
them the fortress of Torgau. Among our troops there was much
uneasiness and lack of confidence.

It was at this time that one heard of the return to Europe of
General Moreau who, condemned to banishment after the conspiracy of
Pichegru and Cadoudal, had retired to America. The hatred which
Moreau had for Napoleon made him forget the duty he owed to his
country. He soiled his reputation by ranging himself with the
enemies of France; however, it was not long before he paid the price
of this infamous conduct.

Now an immense semi-circle was formed around the French army. A
body of 40,000 Russians was in Mecklemberg; Bernadotte, the
Prince Royal of Sweden, occupied Berlin and the surrounding district
with an army of 120,000 men, composed of Swedes, Russians, and
Prussians. Two great Russian and Prussian armies, 220,000 men
strong, of whom 35,000 were cavalry, were in Silesia between
Schweidnitz and the Oder; 40,000 Austrians were stationed at Lintz,
and the main Austrian army of about 140,000 men was concentrated in
Prague; finally, a short distance behind this front line of 560,000
combatants, an enormous body of reserves was ready to march.

The distribution of his troops made by Napoleon was as follows:
70,000 men were concentrated around Dahmen in Prussia, to oppose
Bernadotte; Marshal Ney with 100,000 occupied part of Silesia. A
corps of 70,000 was in the region of Zittau. Marshal Saint-Cyr with
16,000 men occupied the camp at Pirna and gave cover to Dresden. 
Finally the Imperial Guard, 20 to 25,000 strong was spread round this
capital, ready to go wherever was necessary. Including the troops
left in the garrisons of the forts, the troops at Napoleon's disposal
were infinitely fewer than those of the enemy. This enumeration did
not include the forces left in Spain and Italy.

Chap. 24.

The French Emperor had divided his army into 14 Corps, called
infantry, although they each contained at least a brigade of light
cavalry. The commanding generals were as follows:--

1 Corps. Gen. Vandamme.

2 Corps. Marshal Victor.

3 Corps. Marshal Ney.

4 Corps. Gen. Bertrand.

5 Corps. Gen. Lauriston.

6 Corps. Marshal Marmont.

7 Corps. Gen. Reynier.

8 Corps. Prince Poniatowski.

9 Corps. Marshal Augereau.

10 Corps. (confined in Danzig) Gen. Rapp.

11 Corps. Marshal Macdonald.

12 Corps. Marshal Oudinot.

13 Corps. Marshal Davout.

14 Corps. Marshal Saint-Cyr.

Finally came the Guard, under the direct orders of the Emperor.

The cavalry was divided into 5 Corps, commanded by
1. Gen. Latour-Mauberg, 2. Gen. Sébastiani, 3. Gen. Arrighi,
4. Gen. Kellermann. 5. Gen. Milhau. The cavalry of the Guard was
commanded by general Nansouty.

The army, as a whole, approved of some of these appointments but
disapproved of others. They disliked such important posts being given
to Oudinot, who had made more than one mistake during the Russian
campaign, to Marmont, whose rashness had lost the battle of Arpiles,
to Sébastiani, who did not seem equal to the task, and finally it was
regretted that for a campaign which was to decide the destiny of
France, the Emperor had seen fit to try out the strategic talents of
Lauriston and Bertrand. The first was a good artillery officer, and
the second an excellent engineer, but neither had directed troops in
the field, and so lacked the experience needed to command an army
Corps.

Napoleon, recalling that when he was named as commander-in-chief
of the army of Italy, he had hitherto commanded only some battalions,
which had not prevented him from successfully filling the post,
probably believed that Lauriston and Bertrand could do the same
thing. But men of such universal talent as Napoleon are rare, and he
could not hope that his new corps commanders could follow his
example. It is thus that the personal affection which he felt for
these generals led him to commit once more the error which he had
previously made in giving command of an army to the artilleryman
Marmont.

The history of past wars shows quite clearly that to be
commander-in-chief, theoretical knowledge will not suffice, and with
a very, very few exceptions, it is necessary to have served in an
infantry or cavalry unit and to have commanded one in the rank of
colonel, to be competent to direct masses of men in the field. This
is a basic training which very few men can acquire as generals or as
commanders of an army. Louis XIV never confided the command of
troops in the open country to Marshal de Vauban, who was, however, one
of the most able men of his century, and one presumes that if he had
been offered the post, Vauban would have turned it down in order to
concentrate on his own specialty, which was the attack and defence
of fortresses. Marmont and Bertrand, lacked this modesty, and the
affection which Napoleon had for them prevented him from listening to
any observations on the subject.

King Murat, who had gone to Naples after the Russian campaign,
rejoined the Emperor at Dresden. The coalition, that is to say the
Austrians, Russians, and Prussians, opened the campaign with an act of
bad faith, unworthy of civilised nations. Although under the terms
of the previous convention, hostilities should not have begun until
the 16th of August, they attacked our outposts on the 14th, and put
the greater part of their forces in motion after the defection of
Jomini.

Until this time, only the two Saxon generals, Thielmann and
Langueneau, had, shamefully, changed sides, but no general wearing
French uniform had sullied it in such a manner. It was a Swiss,
General Jomini, who was the first to do so. Jomini was a simple
clerk, on a salary of 1200 francs, in the ministerial offices of the
Republic of Helvetia, when, in 1800, General Ney was sent to Berne by
the First Consul to discuss with the Swiss government the defence of
their state, which was then our ally. The duties of the clerk
Jomini, which involved dealing with confidential government
documents, put him in contact with General Ney, who was thus in a
position to appreciate his outstanding ability, and, yielding to his
urgent requests, he arranged for him to admitted as lieutenant, and
shortly captain, in the Swiss regiment which was being formed to
serve with the French army. General Ney took an increasing interest
in his protegé. He had him enrolled as a French officer, took him as
an aide-de-camp and gave him the means to publish works which he had
written on the art of war, works which, although over-valued, are not
without some merit.

Thanks to protection of this kind, Jomini advanced rapidly to the
rank of colonel and brigadier-general, and at the resumption of
hostilities in 1813 was chief-of-staff to Marshal Ney. Seduced,
however, by the extravagant promises made by the Russians, he
deserted, in possession of much information about Napoleon's plans of
campaign. It was fear that, on hearing of this defection, Napoleon
would change these plans that induced the allies to commence
hostilities two days before the date agreed for the ending of the
armistice. To the surprise of everyone, the Emperor Alexander 
rewarded the treacherous Jomini by taking him as an aide-de-camp,
which is said to have outraged the delicate susceptibilities of the
Austrian Emperor.

The information which Jomini was able to give the allies was a
serious blow to Napoleon, for several of his corps were attacked in
the course of moving into position and had to give up a number of
important points for lack of time to prepare their defence.
However, the Emperor, whose plan it was to move into Bohemia,
finding that his opponents were forewarned and on their guard against
this, resolved to attack the Prussian army in Silesia, and re-engage
in the offensive those troops which had been compelled to retreat
before Blücher. In consequence Napoleon arrived at Löwenberg on the
20th of August, where he attacked a considerable force of the allies
consisting of Prussians, Austrians, and Russians. Various actions took
place on the 21st, 22nd, and 23r, in the areas of Goldberg,
Graditzberg, and Bunzlau. The enemy lost 7000 men killed or taken
prisoner, and retired behind the Katzbach.

During one of the numerous engagements which took place during
these three days, Wathiez's brigade, which was pursuing the enemy,
was held up by a wide and swift-flowing stream, a tributary of the
Bobr. There was no way of crossing except by two wooden bridges
about a quarter of a mile apart, which were covered by Russian
artillery fire. The 24th Chasseurs, who had passed into the command
of the gallant Colonel Schneit, having received the order to attack
the left hand bridge, advanced to the assault with their usual
courage, but it was a different matter when it came to the 11th
(Dutch) Hussars, recently incorporated into the brigade. Ordered to
take the right hand bridge, their Colonel M. Liégeard, the only
Frenchman in the unit, called in vain on his troops to follow him,
they were so overcome by fear that not one of them moved. As my
regiment, which was in the second line, was being subjected to as
much fire as the 11th Hussars, I hastened to the side of their
colonel to give him some help in urging his men to attack the enemy
artillery, which was the only way of stopping the cannonade, but when
I saw that I would have no success, and that the cowardice of the
Hollanders would result in many casualties in my regiment, I led my
troops to the front of them and was about to move into the attack
when I saw the bridge on the left collapse under the first section of
men from the 24th, throwing them into the river where several men and
horses were drowned. The Russians, during their withdrawal, had
prepared this trap by sawing so cunningly through the main timbers
supporting the bridge that, unless one were warned, it was
impossible to see what had been done.

The sight of this disaster made me fear that the same treatment
had been given to the bridge towards which I was leading my men, so I
called a halt in order to arrange an inspection. This was a
dangerous undertaking, for not only was the bridge within range of
the enemy guns, but it was also within range of the muskets of an
infantry battalion. I was about to call for a volunteer for this
perilous task, when warrant-officer Boivin, whom I had recently
demoted for negligently allowing the Chasseur condemned to death to
escape, got off his horse and coming to me said, rather than risking
the life of one of his comrades, would I please permit him to carry
out the mission, in order to redeem his mistake. Pleased with this
courageous declaration, I said, "Go then, and you will recover your
epaulets at the end of the bridge!"

Boivin went forward and, ignoring cannon-balls and bullets, he
examined the superstructure of the bridge and its supports and
returned to assure me that it was in order and that the regiment
could cross. I thereupon re-instated him in his rank. He remounted
his horse and placing himself at the head of the squadron which was
about to cross the bridge he led the way towards the Russians, who
did not wait for us to attack, but withdrew smartly. The month
following, when the Emperor reviewed the regiment and awarded several
promotions, I had Boivin made a sous-lieutenant.

Our new brigade commander, General Wathiez, was able during the
these various actions to win the affection and regard of the troops.
As for the divisional commander, General Exelmans, we knew only his
reputation in army circles which was that of a man of outstanding
bravery; but he was also regarded as being somewhat unreliable. We
had proof of this in an event which occurred at the re-commencement
of hostilities.

At a time when the division was carrying out a withdrawal, to
which my regiment was giving cover, General Exelmans, on the pretext
that he was about to lay a trap for the Prussian advance guard,
ordered me to place at his disposal my elite company and 25 of my
best marksmen, whom he put under the command of Major Lacour; then he
put these 150 men in a meadow surrounded by woodland, and after
telling them not to move without his permission, he went off and
completely forgot them!... The enemy arrived, and seeing the
detachment abandoned in this manner, they halted, fearing that it had
been put there to lure them into an ambush. To reassure themselves,
they sent some individual men to slip into the wood, on the right and
left, and when they heard no sound of gunfire, they gradually built
up the number until they had completely surrounded our troopers. It
was in vain that several officers pointed out to Major Lacour that
this movement was going to cut off his retreat; Lacour, brave but
lacking initiative, stuck rigidly to the order he had been given,
without considering that General Exelmans might have forgotten him
and that it might be as well to send someone to remind him, and at
least to reconnoitre the terrain over which he might be able to
retreat. He had been ordered to stay there, and he would stay there
even if his men were killed or taken prisoner!

While Major Lacour was carrying out his instructions in the manner
of a simple sergeant rather than that of a senior officer, the
division marched into the distance! General Walthiez and I, when we
saw that the detachment did not return, and not knowing how to
contact General Exelmans, who was galloping across country, had
serious misgivings. I then asked permission from General Walthiez to
return to Major Lacour, and on receiving it I left at the gallop with
a squadron and arrived just in time to see a most distressing sight,
particularly for a commanding officer who cared for his soldiers.

The enemy, having infiltrated both flanks and even the rear of our
detachment, had mounted a frontal attack by a greatly superior force,
so that some 700 to 800 Prussian lancers surrounded our 150 men,
whose only way of retreat was over a wretched footbridge of wooden
planks which joined the two steep banks of a nearby mill-stream. Our
horsemen could cross here only one by one so that there was
congestion, and the elite company lost several men. A number of
riders then noticed a large farmyard which they thought might lead
to the mill-stream, and in the hope of finding a bridge they entered
it, followed by the rest of the detachment. The stream did, in fact,
run past the farmyard, but it there formed the mill-pool, the banks
of which were lined by slippery flagstones, making access extremely
difficult for horses. This gave the enemy a great advantage, and in
an attempt to capture all the French who had entered this huge yard,
they closed the gates.

It was at this critical moment that I appeared on the other side
of the stream with the squadron which I had hurriedly brought with
me. I ordered them to dismount, and while one man held four horses,
the rest, armed with their carbines, ran to the footbridge, which was
guarded by a squadron of Prussians. The Prussians being on horseback
and having only a few pistols as firearms, were unable to reply to
the sustained fire from the carbines of our Chasseurs, and were
forced to remove themselves to a distance of several hundred paces,
leaving behind some forty dead and wounded.

The troops who had been shut in the farmyard wanted to take
advantage of this momentary respite to force the main gate and make a
rush for it on horseback; but I called to them not to attempt it,
because to join me they would have had to cross the footbridge, which
they could do only one by one, and at this point they would offer a
target to the Prussians who would undoubtedly charge and destroy
them. The river banks were garnished by many trees, amongst which an
infantrymen can easily withstand the attacks of cavalry, so I placed
the dismounted men along the riverside, and once they were in
communication with the mill's yard, I passed a message to the men
there to dismount also, take their carbines, and while a hundred of
them held off the enemy by their fire, the remainder could slip
behind this protective screen and pass the horses from hand to hand
over the footbridge.

While this manoeuvre, covered by the fire from a cordon of 180
dismounted Chasseurs, was proceeding in an orderly fashion, the
Prussian lancers, furious that their prey was about to escape, tried
to disorganise our retreat by a vigourous attack, but their horses,
caught up in the willow branches, amid the numerous holes and pools
of water, could scarcely move at a walk over the muddy ground, and
could never reach our foot-soldiers, whose well-aimed fire, directed
at close range, inflicted on them heavy losses.

The Prussian major who led this charge, forcing his way boldly
into the centre of our line, killed with a pistol shot to the head,
Lieutenant Bachelet, one of my good regimental officers. I greatly
regretted his loss, which was, however, promptly revenged by the
Chasseurs of his section, for the Prussian major, hit by several
bullets, fell dead beside him.

The death of their leader, the numerous casualties they had
suffered, and above all the impossibility of getting at us determined
the enemy to give up the enterprise and they withdrew. I was able to
pick up the wounded and make my retreat without being followed. My
regiment lost in this deplorable affair an officer and nine troopers
killed, and thirteen who were made prisoner, among whom was
Lieutenant Maréchal. The loss of these twenty-three members of the
regiment I found all the more distressing because it served no useful
purpose, and fell wholly on the finest soldiers in the unit, most of
whom had been earmarked for decoration or promotion. I have never
forgotten this undeserved setback! It resulted in our taking a poor
view of General Exelmans, who got away with a reprimand from General
Sébastiani and from the Emperor, who was influenced by his friendship
with Murat. Old General Saint-Germain, a former commander, and
almost the creator, of the 23rd Chasseurs, for whom he had retained
much affection, having stated loudly that Exelmans deserved exemplary
punishment, the two generals fell out and would have come to blows if
the Emperor had not personally intervened. Major Lacour, whose
incapacity had been largely responsible for this catastrophe, I no
longer regarded with any confidence.

Chap. 25.

After the 21st, 22nd and 23rd of August, days on which we had
defeated Field-marshal Blücher's corps, and forced him to retire
behind the Katzbach, the Emperor gave orders for the follow-up on the
next day. However, on hearing that the combined army of the allies,
some 200,000 strong, commanded by Prince Schwartzenberg, had just
emerged, on the 22nd, from the mountains of Bohemia and was heading
for Saxony, Napoleon, taking his Guard, as well as the cavalry of
Latour-Maubourg and several divisions of infantry, hastened by forced
marches to Dresden, where Marshal Saint-Cyr had shut himself in with
the troops he had hurriedly withdrawn from the camp at Pirna
On leaving Silesia, the Emperor told Marshal Ney to follow him,
and left Marshal Macdonald in charge of the large force which he left
on the Bobr, that is to say the 3rd, 5th and 11th Infantry Corps and
the 2nd Cavalry, with a powerful element of artillery, making a total
of 75,000 men. The control of such a great body of combatants was
too much for Marshal Macdonald, as subsequent events will show.

You must have noticed that the larger the number of troops
involved, the less detail I give of their movements: firstly because
this could require an enormous work, which I might not be able to
complete, and secondly because it could make the reading of these
memoirs too wearisome. I shall therefore be even more concise in my
description of events in the War of 1813, in which 600,000 to 700,000
men took part, than I have been in describing previous campaigns.

On the 25th of August, the allies having surrounded the town of
Dresden, whose fortifications were not proof against a major attack,
the position of Saint-Cyr became critical for he had no more than
17,000 French troops to resist the immense numbers of the enemy. The
latter, badly served by their spies, were unaware of the approaching
arrival of Napoleon, and full of confidence in their superior
numbers, they delayed the attack until the following day. This
confidence was increased when they were strengthened by two
Westphalian regiments who had deserted from King Jérôme to join the
Austrians.

The worried Marshal Saint-Cyr expected to be attacked on the
morning of the 26th; but he was reassured as to the outcome of the
struggle by the presence of the Emperor, who had arrived that very
day at an early hour, at the head of the Guard and a numerous
body of all arms. Soon after his arrival, the enemy, who still
thought that they faced only Saint-Cyr's Corps, assaulted the town in
force and captured several redoubts. The Russians and the Prussians,
who now controlled the suburbs of Pirna, were attempting to break down
the Freyberg gate when, on the Emperor's orders, it swung open to
allow the emergence of a column of infantry of the Imperial Guard,
the leading brigade of which was commanded by General Cambronne!... It
was as if the head of Medusa had appeared!... The enemy recoiled
horrified, their guns were captured at the double and the gunners
killed on their mountings! Simultaneous sorties were made from all
the gates of Dresden with the same results, and the allies,
abandoning the redoubts they had taken, fled into the surrounding
country where they were pursued by the cavalry to the foot of the
hills. On this first day the enemy had 5000 men put out of action,
and we took 3000 prisoners. The French had 2500 killed or wounded,
amongst the latter there being five generals.

The next day it was the French army which took the initiative,
although they had 87,000 fewer men than their adversaries. The
action was at first fierce and sanguinary; but the rain which fell in
torrents on the heavy soil soon covered the battle-field with pools
of muddy water through which our troops moved with much difficulty
on their advance towards the enemy. Nevertheless, advance they did,
and the Young Guard had already driven back the enemy left, when
Napoleon, having observed that Prince Schwartzenberg, the allies'
commander-in-chief, had not given sufficient support to his left
wing, overwhelmed it with an attack by Marshal Victor's infantry and
Latour-Maubourg's cavalry.

King Murat, who was in command of this part of the line, was
highly successful. He forced his way through the pass of Cotta and
outflanking Klenau's corps, he separated it from the Austrian army
and attacked it, sabre in hand, at the head of his carabiniers and
Cuirassiers. Klenau was unable to withstand this fearsome charge,
almost all his battalions were compelled to surrender, and two other
divisions of infantry suffered the same fate.

While Murat was defeating the enemy left, their right wing was
routed by the Young Guard, so that after some three hours, victory
was assured and the allies beat a retreat towards Bohemia.

As a result of this second day of heavy fighting, the enemy left on
the field of battle 18 flags, 26 cannons and 40,000 men, of whom
20,000 were prisoners. The main losses were suffered by the Austrian
infantry, who had two generals killed, three wounded and two taken
prisoner.

It may be remarked that at this epoch percussion caps were
virtually unknown, and the infantry of all nations still used
flint-lock muskets, which it was almost impossible to fire once the
priming powder became wet. Now, as it had rained without ceasing for
the whole day, this contributed largely to the defeat of the enemy
infantry by our cavalry, and gave rise to an extraordinary incident.

A division of Cuirassiers, commanded by General Bordesoulle, found
itself facing a strong Austrian infantry division formed into a
square. Bordesoulle called on the enemy general to surrender, which
he refused to do. Bordesoulle then pointed out to the Austrian that
not one of his men's guns was capable of being fired, to which he
replied that his men could defend themselves successfully with their
bayonets, as the cavalry, whose horses were in mud up to their hocks,
would be unable to charge them down. "Then I will blast your square
with my artillery!" "But you don't have any guns, they are stuck in
the mud." "If I show you my cannons, which are behind my first
regiment, will you then surrender?" "I would have no alternative,
for I would have no means of defence."

The French general then advanced, to within thirty paces of the
enemy, a battery of six guns, the gunners with their slow-matches in
their hands, prepared to fire on the square. At this sight the
Austrian general and his division laid down their arms.

The rain having prevented the infantry of both armies from using
their muskets and greatly slowed the movements of the cavalry, it
was the artillery which, in spite of the difficulty of manoeuvering
on the rain sodden ground, played a decisive rôle: in particular the
French artillery, whose teams of horses Napoleon had doubled up,
using animals from the headquarters wagons, which remained safely in
Dresden; so that our guns did great damage, and it was one of their
cannon-balls which struck Moreau.

It had been rumoured for some time that the former illustrious
French general had returned to Europe and had joined the ranks of his
country's enemies. Few people believed this, but it was confirmed in
the evening following the battle of Dresden in a bizarre manner. Our
advance-guard was in pursuit of the routed enemy when one of our
Hussars saw, on entering the village of Notnitz, a magnificent
Great Dane, which seemed to be searching in distress for its owner.

He took hold of the dog, and read on its collar the words "I
belong to General Moreau." He was then told by the curé of the
village that that General Moreau had undergone a double amputation in
his house. A French cannon-ball had landed in the middle of the
Russian general staff, it had struck one of the General's legs, and
going through his horse had then struck the other. This had happened
at the moment when the Austrian army had been defeated, and to
prevent Moreau falling into French hands, the Emperor Alexander had
arranged for him to be carried by some Grenadiers until, the pursuit
having slackened, it was possible to dress his wounds and amputate
both legs. The Saxon curé who had witnessed this cruel operation,
said that Moreau, who was well aware that his life was in danger, had
repeatedly cursed the fate that had left him mortally wounded by a
French missile, amongst the enemies of his country. He died on the
1st of September, and the Russians took away his body.

No one in the French army regretted the death of Moreau, when it
was known that he had taken arms against his country. A Russian
envoy came to claim the dog on behalf of Colonel Rapatel,
Moreau's aide-de-camp, who had stayed with him; it was returned but
without the collar, which was given to the King of Saxony and is now
on display in Dresden.

As Prince Schwartzenberg, the commander of the enemy troops defeated
at Dresden, had given Teplice as the rallying point for the
remains of his defeated armies, the Austrians retreated through the
valley of Dippoldiswalde, the Russians and the Prussians on the
Telnitz road, and the remnants of Klenau's corps via Freiberg. 
Napoleon accompanied the French columns which were pursuing the
vanquished as far as Pirna, but just before he arrived in that town,
he was taken by a sudden indisposition, due perhaps to the fact that
he had spent five days constantly on horseback, exposed to incessant
rain.

It is one of the misfortunes of princes that there are always to
be found in their entourage people who, to demonstrate their
attachment, claim to be alarmed at the slightest indisposition and
exaggerate the precautions which should be taken, which is what
happened on this occasion. The master-of-horse, Caulaincourt,
advised the Emperor to return to Dresden, and the other great
officers dared not give the much more sensible advice to continue to
Pirna, which was no more than a league distant. The young Guard was
already there and the Emperor would have been able to have the rest
which he required while remaining in a position to guide the
movements of the troops in pursuit of the enemy, which he could not
do from Dresden which was much further from the center of operations.

Napoleon then left to Marshals Mortier and Saint-Cyr the task of
supporting General Vandamme, commander of 1st Corps, who, detached
from the Grande Armée for three days, had defeated a Russian corps
and now threatened the enemy rear, had cut the road from Dresden to
Prague and occupied Peterswalde, from where he dominated the Kulm
basin and the town of Teplice, a most important point through which
the allies had to make their retreat. However the return of the
Emperor to Dresden nullified these successes and led to a disastrous
reverse which contributed greatly to the fall of the Empire.

General Vandamme was fine and courageous officer who, already
well-known from the earliest wars of the revolution, had been almost
continually in command of various Corps during those of the empire;
so that it was surprising that he had not yet been awarded the baton
of a marshal; withheld, perhaps, because of his brusque and abrupt
manner. His detractors said after his defeat that his desire to
obtain this coveted honour had driven him, with no more than 20,000
men, to stand rashly in the path of 200,000 of the enemy, with the
aim of barring their passage; but the truth is that having been
informed by the Emperor's chief of staff that he would be supported
by the armies of Marshals Saint-Cyr and Mortier, and been given a
direct order to capture Teplice and so seal off the enemy's line of
retreat, General Vandamme had perforce to obey.

Under the impression that he would be supported he descended
boldly, on the 29th of August, towards Kulm from where, pushing
enemy troops before him, he sought to reach Teplice; it is a
certainty that if Mortier and Saint-Cyr had carried out the orders
which they had been given, the Russian, Austrian, and Prussian forces 
stuck on the appalling roads, cut off from Bohemia and finding
themselves attacked in front and in the rear, would have laid down
their arms. Vandamme would have then been eulogised by the same
people who have since blamed him.

However that may be, Vandamme arrived at Teplice on the morning of
the 30th of August to be confronted by the division of Ostermann, one
of the best of the Russian generals. Vandamme went confidently into
the attack, as he saw, coming down from the heights of Peterwalde,
and taking the route which he had taken the day previously, a body of
troops which he took to be the armies of Mortier and Saint-Cyr, whose
help the Emperor had promised him. But instead of friends, these
newcomers were two large Prussian divisions commanded by General
Kleist, and which, on the advice of Jomini, had passed between the
corps of Mortier and Saint-Cyr without these two marshals taking any
notice, such was the reluctance of Saint-Cyr to got to the aid of one
of his colleagues. A reluctance which, on this occasion, spread to
General Mortier. Neither of them budged and this at a time when
their co-operation joined to the gallant efforts of Vandamme would
have led to the total defeat of the enemy, whose columns of infantry,
cavalry, artillery, and baggage were piled up in disorder in the narrow
passes of the high mountains which lie between Silesia and Bohemia.

In place of the help he was expecting, General Vandamme saw appear
the two divisions of General Kleist, which instantly attacked him. 
Vandamme, continuing to fight the Russians of Ostermann in front of
Teplice, turned round his rear-guard to face Kleist, whom he attacked
furiously, but although the enemy was weakening, the huge
reinforcements which they recieved, bringing their strength to around
100,000 men as opposed to Vandamme's remaining 15,000, made him
think, in spite of his courage and tenacity, that he should retire
towards the corps of Mortier and Saint-Cyr, whom he believed to be
close at hand in accordance with what Prince Berthier had written to
him on the Emperor's instructions.

On their arrival at the pass of Telnitz, the French found it
occupied by General Kleist's divisions, who completely blocked their
passage; but nevertheless, our battalions, preceded by the cavalry
of General Corbineau who, in spite of the rough, mountainous
terrain, had insisted on remaining the advance-guard, fell on the
Prussians with such ferocity that they overcame them and broke
through the pass after taking all the enemy guns, from which they
took away only the horses because of the bad state of the roads.

Any soldier will be aware that such a success could be won only at
the cost of many casualties, and after this savage engagement the
strength of 1st Corps was greatly reduced. However, Vandamme,
completely surrounded by forces ten times more numerous than his own,
refused to surrender and placing himself at the head of two
battalions of the 85th, the only ones left to him, he hurled himself
into the midst of the enemy in a fight to the death. But his horse
having been killed, a group of Russians seized him and made him
prisoner. It is said that he was brought before the Emperor Alexander 
and his brother, the Grand Duke Constantin, and was rash enough to
exchange insults with them. He was then taken to Wintka, on the
frontier of Siberia, and did not see his country again until after
the peace of 1814.

The battle of Kulm cost 1st Corps 2000 men killed and 8000 made
prisoner, amongst whom was their commanding general. The 10,000 who
were left managed to fight their way through the enemy lines to join
Saint-Cyr and Mortier. Those two generals had gravely failed in
their duty by not pursuing the beaten enemy and instead stopping,
Saint-Cyr at Reinhards-Grimme and Mortier at Pirna, from where they
could hear the noise of the battle being fought by Vandamme.

It is surprising that, from nearby Dresden, Napoleon did not send
one of his aides-de-camp to make certain that Saint-Cyr and Mortier
had gone to the aid of Vandamme, as he had ordered. The two
marshals, having failed to carry out their orders, should have been
court-martialled, but the French army, overwhelmed by the enormous
number of enemies which Napoleon had raised against it, had reached
such a point of exhaustion that had Napoleon wished to punish all
those who failed in their duty, he would have had to dispense with
the services of almost all his marshals. He therefore did no more
than reprimand Saint-Cyr and Mortier.

He had an increasing need to conceal his disasters, for it was not
only at Kulm that his troops had suffered a reverse, but at all
points of the immense line which they occupied.

(Subsequent historical research has made it quite clear that as
Napoleon was in control of the operations the two marshals were
entirely correct in waiting to receive his instructions, as they did
not know to where he intended them to go. As for the order to
support Vandamme with two divisions, it did not arrive until the
30th, that is to say at a time when the catastrophe had already
occurred, and no blame can be attributed to the marshals.)

Chap. 26.

It has been rightly said that in the last campaigns of the Empire,
battles were rarely fought with any skill unless Napoleon himself
was in command. It is regrettable that this great captain was not
fully aware of this, and placed too much confidence in his
lieutenants, of whom several were not up to the tasks which they
presumed to undertake, as will be seen from some examples. Instead
of ordering his corps commanders, when they were acting on their own
initiative, to remain as much as possible on the defensive until he
could come with a powerful reserve to crush the force facing them,
the Emperor allowed them too much latitude, and, as each one was
jealous of his own reputation and wanted to have his personal Battle
of Austerlitz, they often went, ill-advisedly, on the offensive and
were defeated as a result.

This is what happened to Marshal Oudinot, to whom Napoleon had
given a considerable army made up of the Corps of Bertrand and
Reynier, in order to keep a watch on the numerous Prussian and
Swedish troops stationed near Berlin under the command of Bernadotte,
who had now become the Prince of Sweden. Marshal Oudinot was not as
strong as his opponent and should have temporised, but the habit of
advancing, the sight of the steeples of Berlin, and the fear of not
living up to the confidence Napoleon reposed in him, led him to push
forward Bertrand's corps, which was repulsed, a setback which did not
prevent Oudinot from persisting in his aim of taking Berlin. 
However, he lost a major battle at Gross-Beeren and was forced to
retire via Wittemberg, having suffered heavy losses.

A few days later, Marshal Macdonald, whom Napoleon had left on the
Katzbach at the head of several army corps, thought that he also
would take advantage of the liberty given him by the absence of the
Emperor to attempt to win a battle, which would compensate for the
bloody defeat which he had endured on the Trébia during the Italian
campaign of 1799; but once more he was defeated!

Macdonald, although personally very brave, was constantly
unfortunate in battle, not that he lacked ability but because, like
the generals of the Austrian army, and in particular the famous
Marshal Mack, he was too rigid and blinkered in his strategic
movements. Before the battle he drew up a plan of action which was
almost always sound, but which he should have modified according to
circumstances; this, however, his stolid temperament did not permit. 
He was like a chess player who, when he plays against himself, can
make all the right moves, but does not know what to do when a real
opponent makes moves which he had not foreseen. So, on the 26th of
August, the day on which the Emperor was winning a resounding victory
at Dresden, Macdonald lost the battle of Katzbach.

The French army, 75,000 strong, of which my regiment was a part,
was drawn up between Liegnitz and Goldberg, on the left bank of the
little river named the Katzbach,(Kaczawa) which separated them from
several Prussian Corps commanded by Field-marshal Blücher. The area
which we occupied was dotted with small wooded hills, which, although
practicable for cavalry, made movement difficult, but, by the same
token, offered much advantage to the infantry. Now, as the main body
of Macdonald's troops consisted of this arm, and he had only 6000
cavalry of Sébastiani's Corps, and as the enemy had 15 to 20,000
horse on the immense plateau of Jauër,(Jawor) where the ground is
almost everywhere level, it was plainly Macdonald's duty to await the
Prussians in the position which he occupied. In addition to this,
the Katzbach does not have a steep approach on the left bank, where
we were, but on the other side it does, so that to reach the plateau
of Jauër one has to climb a high hill covered with rocks and
affording only a steep and stony road.

The Katzbach, which runs at the foot of this hill has no bridges
except at the few villages and only some narrow fords, which become
unpassable on the least rise in the water-level. This river covered
the French army front, which was greatly in our favour; but Marshal
Macdonald wanted to attack the Prussians, and he abandoned this
highly advantageous position and put the Katzbach at his back by
ordering his troops to cross it at several points. Sébastiani's
cavalry, of which Exelmans' division, which included my regiment,
formed a part, were instructed to cross the river by the ford at
Chemochowitz.

The weather, which was already threatening in the morning, should
have warned the Marshal to put off the attack to another day, or at
least to act rapidly. He did neither, and wasted precious time in
giving detailed orders so that it was not until two in the afternoon
that his columns began to move, and no sooner had they done so than
they were overtaken by a tremendous storm which swelled the Katzbach
and made the ford so difficult that General Saint-Germain's
Cuirassiers were unable to cross.

Having arrived on the other bank, we climbed, by a narrow gully,
a very steep slope which the rain had made so slippery that the
horses were falling at every step. We had to dismount and did not
get back into the saddle until we had reached the great plateau which
dominates the valley of the Katzbach. There we found several
divisions of our infantry, which the generals had wisely placed near
the clumps of trees which are scattered over this plain; for, as I
have said, the enemy were far stronger than us in cavalry, and had a
further advantage in that the rain had made it impossible for the
infantrymen to fire their weapons.

When we had arrived on this vast open space, we were astonished to
see no signs of the enemy! The complete silence that reigned there
seemed to me to conceal some kind of a trap, for we were certain that
on the previous night Marshal Blücher was in this position with more
than 100,000 men. It was, in my view, necessary to reconnoitre the
countryside thoroughly before going any further. General Sébastiani
thought differently; so, as soon as Rousel d'Urbal's division was
formed up, he despatched them into the distance, with not only their
own guns but those belonging to Exelmans' division, which we had
dragged onto the plateau with so much difficulty.

As soon as Exelmans, who had been separated from his troops,
rejoined us, as we emerged from the gully, and saw that Sébastiani
had made off with his guns, he hurried after him to reclaim them,
leaving his division without orders. The two brigades of which it
was composed were some five hundred paces from one another, facing
the same way and formed into columns by regiment. My regiment was at
the head of Wathiez's brigade and had behind it the 24th Chasseurs. 
The 11th Hussars were in the rear.

The plateau of Jauër is so huge that although the Roussel d'Urbal
division, which had gone ahead, was made up of seven regiments of
cavalry, we could scarcely see them on the horizon. A thousand paces
to the right of the column of which I was a part, was one of the
clumps of trees which dot the plain. If my regiment had been on its
own I would certainly have had this wood searched by a platoon; but
as Exelmans, who was very jealous of his authority, had established
it as a rule that no one was to leave the ranks without his order, I
had not dared to take the usual precautions, and for the same reason
the general commanding the brigade had felt obliged to do the same.
This passive obedience was nearly fatal.

I was at the head of my regiment which, as I have said, was
leading the column, when I suddenly heard a great outcry behind me;
this arose from an unforeseen attack by a numerous body of Prussian
lancers who, emerging unexpectedly from the wood, charged the 24th
Chasseurs and the 11th Hussars, whom they took on the flank and threw
into the greatest disorder. The enemy charge being on the oblique,
had first struck the tail of the column, then the centre, and was now
threatening the head. My regiment was about to be hit on the right
flank. The situation was critical, for the enemy was advancing
rapidly; however, confident in the courage and skill of all ranks of
my cavalrymen, I ordered them to form line facing right at the full
gallop.

This movement, so dangerous in the presence of the enemy, was
carried out with such speed and accuracy that in the blink of an eye
the regiment was in line facing the Prussians who, as they
approached us obliquely, exposed a flank, which our squadrons took
advantage of to get among their ranks where they effected great
carnage.

When they saw the success obtained by my regiment, the 24th
recovered from the surprise attack which had at first disorganised
them, and rallying smartly, they repelled the part of the enemy
line which faced them. As for the 11th Hussars, composed entirely of
Hollanders whom the Emperor had believed he could turn into
Frenchmen by a simple decree, their commander found it impossible to
lead them into a charge. But we were able to do without the
assistance of these useless soldiers, for the 23rd and the 24th were
enough to rout the three Prussian regiments which had attacked us.

While our Chasseurs were pursuing them, an elderly enemy colonel 
who had been unhorsed, recognising my rank by my epaulets, and
fearing that he might be killed by one of my men, came to take refuge
beside me where, in spite of the excitement of the action, no one
would dare to strike him while he was under my protection. Although
he was on foot, in the clinging mud, he followed for a quarter of an
hour the hurried movements of my horse, supporting himself by a hand
on my knee and repeating all the time "You are my guardian angel!" I
was truly sorry for the old fellow, for although he was dropping with
fatigue he was unwilling to leave me, so when I saw one of my men
leading a captured horse, I had him lend it to the Prussian colonel,
whom I sent to the rear in the charge of a trusted Sous-officier. 
You will see that this enemy officer was not slow in showing his
gratitude.

The plateau of Jauër now became the theatre for a desperate
struggle. From each of the woods there emerged a horde of Prussians,
so that the plain was soon covered by them. My regiment, whose
pursuit of their opponents I had been unable to slow down, found
itself before long facing a brigade of enemy infantry, whose muskets 
put out of action by the rain, could not fire a shot at us. I tried
to break the Prussian square, but our horses, bogged down in the mud
to their hocks, could move only at a slow walk, and without the
weight of a charge it is almost impossible for cavalry to penetrate
the close-packed ranks of infantry who, calm and well-led, present a
hedge of bayonets. We could go close enough to the enemy to speak
with them and strike their muskets with the blades of our sabres, but
we could never break through their lines, something which we could
have done easily if General Sébastiani had not sent our brigade
artillery elsewhere.

Our situation and that of the enemy infantry was really rather
ridiculous for we were eye to eye without being able to inflict the
least harm, our sabres being too short to reach the enemy, whose
muskets could not be fired. We remained in this state for a
considerable time, until General Maurin, the commander of a
neighbouring brigade, sent the 6th Regiment of Lancers to help us. 
Their long weapons, outreaching the bayonets of the Prussians killed
many of them and allowed not only the Lancers but also the Chasseurs
of the 23rd and 24th to get into the enemy square, where they did
great carnage. During the fighting, one could hear the sonorous
voice of Colonel Perquit shouting in a very pronounced Alsatian
accent "Bointez, Lanciers! Bointez!"

The victory which we had won on this part of the vast battlefield
was snatched from us by the unexpected arrival of more than 20,000 of
Prussian cavalry who, after overwhelming the Roussel d'Urbal
division, which had been so unwisely sent alone more than a league
ahead of us, now came to attack us with infinitely greater numbers.

The approach of this enormous body of enemy troops was signalled
by the arrival of General Exelmans who, as I have said, had briefly
left his division to go almost unaccompanied to claim back from
General Sébastiani his battery of artillery, which that General had
so inappropriately despatched to join that of Roussel d'Urbal. 
Having been unable to find General Sébastiani, he arrived close to
the leading division only to witness the capture of Roussel d'Urbal's
guns and also his own, and to find himself involved in the utter rout
of his colleague's squadrons. We had a warning of some disaster in
the sight of our General, his appearance altered by the fact that he
had lost his hat and even his belt! We hastened to recall our
soldiers, who were busy sabring the enemy infantry which we had just
broken into, but while we were engaged in forming them up in good
order we were completely overrun by the many Prussian squadrons who
were pursuing the debris of d'Urbal's division.

Instantly, Sébastiani's cavalry division, consisting at the most
of 5 to 6000 men was confronted by 20,000 enemy horsemen who, as
well as outnumbering us, had the advantage of being almost all of
them Uhlans, that is to say armed with lances, while we had only a
few such squadrons! So in spite of the stiff resistance which we put
up, the groups which we formed were broken up by the Prussians, who
drove us steadily back to the edge of the plain and to the verge of
the steep descent into the gorge, at the bottom of which ran the
river Katzbach.

We were met here by two divisions of French infantry, together
with which we hoped to make a stand; but the muskets of our men were
so wet that they would not fire, and they had no other means of
defence but a battery of six guns and their bayonets, with which they
momentarily arrested the Prussian cavalry; but the Prussian generals
having brought up some twenty cannons, the French guns were instantly
disabled and their battalions crushed! Then, cheering loudly, the
twenty thousand enemy cavalry advanced on our troops and drove them
in confusion towards the Katzbach.

This river, which we had crossed in the morning with so much
difficulty although it was not very deep, had been transformed into
a raging torrent by the pouring rain which had continued ceaslessly
throughout the whole day. The water, surging between the two banks,
covered almost entirely the parapet of the bridge at Chemochowitz and
made it impossible to discover if the ford at that point was still
passable. However it was by those two points we had crossed in the
morning, and it was to them that we went. The ford proved impassable
for the infantry and a number were drowned there, but the great
majority were saved by the bridge.

I gathered together my regiment, as much as was possible, and
having been formed into tight-packed half-platoons which could give
each other mutual support, they entered the water in reasonably good
order and gained the other bank with the loss of only two men. All
the other cavalry units took the same route, for in spite of the
confusion inseparable from such a retreat, the troopers realised that
the bridge had to be left for the infantry. I must confess that the
descent of the slope was one of the most critical moments in my
life... The very steep hillside was slippery under our horses' feet,
and they stumbled at every pace over numerous outcrops of rock; in
addition the constant hail of grape-shot which was hurled from the
enemy guns made our position highly precarious. I came out of this
without any personal accident, thanks to the courage, determination,
and skill of my excellent Turkish horse, which by walking along the
edge of precipices like a cat on a roof, saved my life, not only on
this occasion but on several others. I shall mention this admirable
creature later.

The French infantry and cavalry who had been driven down from the
Jauër plateau thought themselves safe from their enemies once they
had crossed the river, but the Prussians had sent a strong column to
a bridge upstream of that at Chemochowitz, where they had crossed the
Katzbach, so that having arrived on the bank which we had quitted in
the morning, we were astonished to be attacked by squadrons of
Uhlans. However, in spite of the surprise, several regiments, among
which Marshal Macdonald in his report mentioned mine,
unhesitatingly attacked the enemy... Nonetheless, I do not know what
would have happened without the arrival of the division of General
Saint-Germain. He had remained on the left bank of the river in the
morning, and having in consequence taken no part in the fighting,
found himself in full readiness to come to our aid. This division
composed of two regiments of carabiniers, a brigade of Cuirassiers,
and with six twelve pounders, fell furiously on the enemy and drove
back into the river all those who had crossed with the aim of cutting
off our retreat, and as there is nothing so terrible as troops who,
having suffered a setback, resume the offensive, the troopers of
Exelmanns' and d'Urbal's divisions slaughtered all whom they could
reach.

This counter-attack did us much good, for it halted the enemy
who, for that day, did not dare to follow us across the Katzbach. 
However, the French army suffered an immense disaster, for Marshal
Macdonald having crossed the river by all the bridges and fords which
there were between Liegnitz and Goldberg, that is to say on a line of
more than five leagues, and now finding nearly all these crossing
points cut off by flooding, the French army was extended in a long
cordon with the Prussians at their back and facing an almost
uncrossable river, and so the frightful scenes which I had witnessed
on the Jauër plateau were reproduced at all points of the field of
battle. Everywhere the rain prevented our infantry from firing and
aided the attacks of the Prussian cavalry, four times more
numerous than ours; everywhere retreat was made highly perilous by
the difficulty of crossing the flooded Katzbach. Most of the men who
tried to swim across were drowned, Brigadier-general Sibuet being
among their number; we were able to save only a few pieces of
artillery.

Chap. 27.

After the unhappy affair at the Katzbach, Marshal Macdonald, in an
attempt to re-unite his troops, indicated as rallying points the
towns of Bunzlau, Lauban, and Gorlitz. A pitch-dark night, rutted
roads, and continuous torrential rain made movement slow and very
difficult; and many soldiers, particularly those of our allies, went
astray or lagged behind.

Napoleon's army lost at the battle of the Katzbach 13,000 men
killed or drowned, 20,000 prisoners, and 50 cannons. A veritable
calamity! Marshal Macdonald, whose faulty tactics had led to this
irreparable catastrophe, although he forfeited the confidence of the
army, was able to retain his personal esteem by the frankness and
loyalty with which he admitted to his mistakes; for the day following
the disaster he called together all the generals and colonels, and
after engaging us to do all we could to maintain order, he said that
every officer and man had done his duty, and there was only one
person who was responsible for the loss of the battle, and that was
himself; because, in view of the rain, he should not have left a
well-broken terrain to go and attack, in a vast open space, an enemy
who squadrons greatly outnumbered our own, nor, during a rain-storm,
have put a river at his back. This contrite admission disarmed the
critics, and everyone buckled to in order to help save the army,
which retreated towards the Elbe via Bautzen.

Fate now seemed to be against us; for a few days after Marshal
Oudinot had lost the battle of Gross-Beeren, Macdonald that of the
Katzbach, and Vandamme that of Kulm, the French forces suffered
another major reverse. Marshal Ney, who had succeeded Oudinot in
command of the troops who were destined to march on Berlin, not
having a sufficiently powerful force to accomplish this difficult
task, was defeated at Jutterbach (Jüterbog) by the turncoat
Bernadotte, and compelled to quit the right bank of the Elbe.

The Emperor came back to Dresden with his Guard. The various units
under the command of Macdonald took up positions not far from that
town, while Marshal Ney, having pushed back the Swedes to the right
bank, concentrated his troops on the left bank at Dassau and
Wittemberg. For almost a fortnight, between the end of September and
the beginning of October, the French army remained almost motionless
around Dresden. My regiment was in bivouac close to Veissig on the
heights of Pilnitz, which were occupied by a division of infantry
supported by the cavalry of Sébastiani and Exelmans.

Although there was no official armistice, the weariness of both
sides led to a de facto suspension of hostilities, from which both
parties profited to prepare for new and more terrible conflicts.

While we were in camp at Pilnitz, I received a letter from the
colonel of Prussian cavalry to whom I had lent a horse after he had
been captured and injured by the men of my regiment at the start of
the battle of the Katzbach. This senior officer, named M. de
Blankensée, who had been freed by his own troops when things turned
against us, was nonetheless grateful for what I had done, and to
prove it he sent me ten Chasseurs and a lieutenant belonging to my
regiment who had been left wounded on the battlefield and taken
prisoner. M. de Blankensée had seen that their wounds were dressed,
and after caring for them for a fortnight he had obtained permission
to have them led to the French outposts, with a thousand thanks to
me, for having, as he assured me, saved his life. I believe he was
right, but I was still touched by this expression of thanks from one
of the leaders of our opponents.

During the time we were in this camp there took place a strange
event which was witnessed by all the regiments. A corporal of the
4th Chasseurs, while drunk, had shown disrespect to an officer, and a
Lancer of the 6th whose horse had bitten him and would not let go had
struck it in the belly with some scissors which led to its death. 
Certainly the two men deserved to be punished, but only by proper
disciplinary procedures. General Exelmans condemned them both to
death on his own authority, and having ordered that the division
should mount their horses, he drew them up in a huge square, one side
of which was left open, where two graves were dug, to the side of
which the two convicted men were led.

I had been away all night and returned to the camp in time to see
these lugubrious preparations. I had no doubt that the prisoners had
been tried and condemned, but I soon learned that this was not the
case, and drawing near to a group formed by General Exelmans, the two
brigadiers and all the regimental commanders, I heard M. Devence,
Colonel of the 4th Chasseurs, and Colonel Perquit of the 6th Lancers
beg General Exelmans to pardon the two culprits. General Exelmans
refused to do so.

I have never been able to see an act which I consider unjust
without expressing my indignation. It was perhaps wrong of me, but I
addressed Colonels Devence and Perquit saying that it was an affront
to their dignity that men of their regiments should be paraded
through the camp as criminals when they had not had a proper trial,
and I added, "The Emperor has given no one the power of life or death,
and has reserved for himself the right to grant pardon."

General Exelmans was sufficiently influenced by the effect produced
by my outburst to announce that he would pardon the Chasseur of the
4th, but that the Lancer would be shot; that is to say he would
pardon the soldier who had been disrespectful to his officer, but
condemn to execution the one who had killed a horse.

In order to carry out this execution each regiment was asked to
provide two N.C.O.s., but as they did not carry muskets, they would
have to use those belonging to other soldiers. When this order
reached me, I did not reply to my regimental sergeant-major, who took
my meaning; so that no one from the 23rd presented himself to take
part in the execution. General Exelmans noticed this but said
nothing! Eventually a shot rang out, and all those present muttered
with indignation! Exelmans ordered that, as was usual, the troops
would be marched past the corpse. The march began. My regiment was
second in the column and I was in some doubt whether I should make it
march past the unlucky victim of Exelmans' severity when a great
burst of laughter was heard from the 24th Chasseurs, who were in
front of me and had already arrived at the scene of the execution. I
sent a warrant officer to find out the cause of this unseemly mirth
in the presence of the dead, and I soon discovered that the dead man
was in remarkably good health!

The truth was that all that had happened was a theatrical
performance staged to scare any soldiers who were tempted to
indiscipline; a performance which included shooting a man with
blanks; and to keep the operation secret from the rank and file, our
chief had formed the firing squad of sous-officiers, to whom he had
issued the blank cartridges. However, to complete the illusion it
was necessary for the troops to view the body, and Exelmans had told
the Lancer who was to play the part to throw himself on his face at
the sound of the shots and pretend to be dead, then to leave the army
the next night, dressed as a peasant and with a sum of money which he
had been given for the purpose; but the soldier who was a
sharp-witted Gascon, had understood perfectly well that General
Exelmans was exceeding his authority, and had no more right to have
him shot without trial than he had to dismiss him from the army
without a proper discharge, and so he remained standing when the
shots were fired and refused to leave the camp without a pass which
would guarantee him from arrest by the gendarmerie.

When I learned that it was this discussion between the General and
the dead man which had produced the shouts of laughter from the 24th
Chasseurs at the head of the column, I thought it better that my
regiment did not take part in this comedy which seemed to me to be as
much contrary to discipline as the misdemeanors it was supposed to
punish or prevent. I therefore turned my squadrons about, and
setting off at the trot I left this unhelpful scene and, returning to
the camp, I ordered them to dismount. My example having been
followed by all the brigadiers and regimental commanders of the
division, Exelmans was left alone with the "dead man", who set off
calmly down the road to the bivouac where he tucked into a meal with
his comrades, amid much more laughter.

During our stay on the plateau of Pilnitz, the enemy, and above all
the Russians, received many reinforcements, the main one, led by
General Benningsen was of not less than 60,000 men, and was composed
of the corps of Doctoroff and Tolstoï and the reserve of Prince
Labanoff. This reserve came from beyond Moscow and included in its
ranks a large number of Tartars and Baskirs, armed only with bows and
arrows.

I have never understood with what aim the Russian government
brought from so far and at such great expense these masses of
irregular cavalry, who having neither sabres nor lances nor any kind
of firearm, were unable to stand up against trained soldiers, and
served only to strip the countryside and starve the regular forces,
which alone were capable of resisting a European enemy. Our soldiers
were not in the least alarmed at the sight of these semi-barbarous
Asiatics, whom they nicknamed cupids, because of their bows and
arrows.

Nevertheless, these newcomers, who did not yet know the French,
had been so indoctrinated by their leaders, almost as ignorant as
themselves, that they expected to see us take flight at their
approach; and so they could not wait to attack us. From the very day
of their arrival in sight of our troops they launched themselves in
swarms against them, but having been everywhere repulsed by gunfire,
the Baskirs left a great number of dead on the ground.

These losses, far from calming their frenzy, seemed to excite them
still more, for without any order and in all directions, they buzzed
around us like a swarm of wasps, flying all over the place and being
very hard to catch, but when our cavalry did catch them they effected
a fearful massacre, our lances and sabres being immensely superior to
their bows and arrows. All the same, as the attacks by these
barbarians were incessant and the Russians supported them with
detachments of Hussars to profit from the confusion which the
Baskirs could create at various points on the line, the Emperor
ordered the generals to be doubly watchful, and to make frequent
visits to our advance posts.

Now both sides were preparing to renew hostilities which, as I
have already said, had not been suspended by any agreement, but
simply de facto. All was completely peaceful in my camp, and I had
as usual taken off my coat and was preparing to shave in the open
air before a little mirror nailed to a tree, when I was given a slap
on the shoulder. As I was in the middle of my regiment, I turned
round sharply to see who had used this familiarity with his
commanding officer... I found myself facing the Emperor, who, wishing
to examine some neighbouring positions without arousing the enemy,
had arrived with only one aide-de-camp. As he was not accompanied by
a detachment of his Guard, he was followed by squadrons chosen in
equal numbers from all the regiments in the division, and having, on
his orders, taken command of this escort, I spent the entire day at
his side, and have nothing but praise for his kindliness.

When we were preparing to return to Pilnitz, we saw a horde of
Baskirs hurrying towards us, with all the speed of their little
Tarter horses. The Emperor, who had never before seen troops of this
sort, stopped on a hillock and asked for the capture of some
prisoners. To this end, I ordered two squadrons of my regiment to
hide behind a clump of trees, while the remainder continued their
march. This well-known ruse would not have deceived Cossacks, but it
succeeded perfectly with the Baskirs, who have not the slightest
notion of tactics. They passed close to the wood without sending
anyone to inspect it, and were continuing to follow the column when
they were unexpectedly attacked by our squadrons who, falling on
them suddenly, killed a great number and took some thirty prisoners.

I had these brought to the Emperor, who, after examining them
expressed his surprise at the spectacle of these wretched horsemen
who were sent, with no other arms than bows and arrows, to fight
European soldiers armed with sabres, lances, guns, and pistols!...
These Tarter Baskirs had Chinese features and wore extravagant
costumes. When we got back to the camp, my Chasseurs amused
themselves by giving wine to the Baskirs who, delighted with this
novel reception, got drunk and expressed their joy by such
extraordinary grimaces and capers that all the watchers, including
Napoleon, were in fits of laughter.

On the 28th of September, after reviewing our army corps, the
Emperor treated me with quite exceptional benevolence, for although
he very rarely gave more than one reward at a time, he created me an
officer of the Legion of Honour, a Baron, and awarded me a grant of
money!... He loaded favours on the regiment, saying that it was the
only one of Sébastiani's corps which had maintained good order at the
Katzbach, had captured some enemy guns and had driven off the
Prussians whenever they met them.

The 23rd Chasseurs owed this distinction to the high praise of its
conduct received by the Emperor from Marshal Macdonald, who, after
the debacle at the Katzbach, had sought refuge in the ranks of my
regiment and had taken part in the fierce charges it made to drive
the enemies back across the river.

After the review, when the troops were on the road to their camp,
General Exelmans came to the front of the regiment and loudly
complemented them for the recognition given by the Emperor to their
courage. Then, turning to me, he embarked on a veritable, and
exaggerated, eulogy of their colonel.

The French army now was concentrated in the area of Leipzig. All the
enemy forces also proceeded to the town, around which their great
number allowed them to form a huge circle, which contracted every
day, and whose aim was obviously to hem in the French troops and cut
off all means of retreat.

On the 14th of October there was a sharp encounter between the
Austro-Russian advance-guard and our own; but after an indecisive
result, both sides returned to their previous positions, and the
action ended with one of the most ridiculous features of war, a
cannonade which went on until nightfall, with no result but the loss
of many men's lives.

The Emperor, after leaving at Dresden a garrison of 25,000 men
commanded by Marshal Saint-Cyr, came to Leipzig, where he arrived on
the morning of the 15th.

Chap. 28.

The exact details of the battle of Leipzig will never be known,
partly because of the extent and complexity of the area over which
fighting continued for several days, and partly because of the
immense number of troops of different nations which took part in this
memorable encounter. It is principally the documents relating to the
French army which are missing, because several commanders of army
corps and divisions, and some members of the general staff, having
been killed or left in enemy hands, most of their reports have never
been finished, and those which have been, reflect the inevitable
haste and disorder surrounding their compilation. At Leipzig I was
the colonel of a regiment, a part of a division whose movements I
was bound to follow, so it was not possible for me to know what was
happening elsewhere, in the manner which it had been in previous
campaigns, when as an aide-de-camp to various marshals, I was able to
acquire a general view of operations as I carried orders to
different parts of the battlefield. I must therefore, more than
ever, limit my description to what is absolutely necessary for an
understanding of the main events of the battle of Leipzig, the
outcome of which had such a profound influence on the destinies of
the Emperor, of France and of Europe.

The iron circle within which the allies were preparing to enclose
the French army, had not yet completely surrounded Leipzig, when the
King of Wurtemburg, a man of violence but honourable, thought it his
duty to warn Napoleon that the whole of Germany, incited by the
English, was about to rise against him, and that he had barely
sufficient time to retire with the French troops behind the Main,
before all of the German Confederation abandoned him to join his
enemies. He added that he himself, King of Wurtemburg, could not
avoid doing likewise, as he was forced to accede to the demands of
his subjects, who clamoured for him to go with the torrent of German
public opinion and, breaking with Napoleon, range himself with the
enemies of France.

The Emperor, shaken by this advice from the most able and most
faithful of his allies, is said to have considered retiring towards
the mountains of Thuringia and Hesse, to get behind the river Saale
and there wait for the allies to attack him, where they would be at a
disadvantage on the difficult terrain, heavily wooded and full of
narrow passes.

This plan could have saved Napoleon; but it had to be executed
quickly, before the enemy armies were completely united and near
enough to attack us during the retreat. However, when it came to
deciding to abandon a part of his conquests, the Emperor could not
make up his mind; he was most unwilling to have it thought that he
considered himself defeated because he sought refuge behind these
inaccessible mountains. The over-boldness of this great captain was
our undoing; he did not stop to consider that his army, weakened by
numerous losses, contained in its ranks many foreigners who were
waiting only for a favourable opportunity to betray him, and that it
was liable to be overwhelmed by superior forces in the great open
plains of Leipzig. He would have been wiser to lead it to the
mountains of Thuringia and Hesse, which offered good defensive
positions, and so nullify some of the numerical advantage of the
royal coalition. In addition, the approach of winter and the need to
feed their many troops would have soon compelled the enemies to
separate, while the French army, its front and its flanks protected
by the extreme difficulty of mounting an attack in a country
bristling with natural obstacles, would have had behind it the
fertile valleys of the Main, the Rhine, and the Necker.

Such a position would at least have given us some time and perhaps
tired the allies to the point of desiring a peace; but the confidence
which Napoleon had in himself and in the valour of his troops
overcame these considerations, and he elected to await his enemies on
the plains of Leipzig.

This fatal decision had hardly been taken, when a second letter
from the King of Wurtemburg informed the Emperor that the King of
Bavaria, having suddenly changed sides, had made a pact with the
allies, and that the two armies, the Austrian and the Bavarian, in
cantonment on the banks of the Inn, had joined into a single unit
under the command of General de Wrède and were marching to the
Rhine; and finally that, to his regret, he was compelled by force to
join his army to theirs. In consequence, the Emperor could expect
that soon 100,000 men would surround Mainz, and threaten the frontier
of France.

At this unexpected news, Napoleon thought he should return to the
project of retiring behind the Saale and the mountains of Thuringia;
but it was too late, for already the main forces of the allies were
in contact with the French army, and too close for it to be possible
to carry out a retreat without being attacked in the course of this
difficult operation. So the Emperor decided to stand and fight!... 
It was a disastrous decision, for the effective strength of the
French troops and their allies amounted to no more than 157,000 men,
of whom only 29,000 were cavalry, while Prince Schwartzenberg, the
enemy generalissimo, disposed of a force of 350,000, of whom 54,000
were cavalry!...

This huge army consisted of Russians, Austrians, Prussians, and
Swedes, whom the former French Marshal Bernadotte was leading against
his fellow countrymen and one-time brothers in arms. The total
number of those engaged amounted to 507,000 without counting the
troops left in fortresses.

The town of Leipzig is one of the most commercial and richest in
Germany. It stands in the middle of a great plain which extends from
the Elbe to the Harz mountains, to Thuringia, and to Bohemia. Its
situation has made it almost always the principal theatre for the
wars which have bloodied Germany. A little river named the Elster,
which is so small and shallow that one could call it a stream, runs
from south to north through water-meadows in a slight valley as far
as Leipzig. This water-course divides into a great number of
branches which are a real obstacle to the usual operations of war,
and require a multiplicity of bridges for communication between the
villages which edge the valley.

The Pleisse, another river of the same sort but even smaller than
the Elster, runs about a league and a half from the latter, which it
joins under the walls of Leipzig.

To the north of the town is a small stream called the Partha which
winds through a narrow valley and has at every pace fords or little
bridges across it.

Leipzig, being at the confluence of these three streams and almost
surrounded to the north and west by their multiple branches, is the
key to the terrain through which they run. The town, which is not
very large, was at this period surrounded by an old wall in which
were four large gates and three small ones. The road to Lutzen via
Lindenau and Markranstadt was the only one by which the French army
could communicate freely with its rear.

It is in the area of ground between the Pleisse and the Partha
that the heaviest fighting took place. There, a noticeable feature is
a small isolated hillock called the Kelmberg, known also as the
Swedish redoubt, because in the thirty years war, Gustavus Adolphus
built some fortifications at this spot, which dominates the
surrounding countryside.

The battle of Leipzig began on the 16th of October 1813 and lasted
three days; but the fighting on the 17th was infinitely more savage
than that on the 16th and 18th.

Without wishing to go into the details of this memorable
encounter, I think I should indicate the principal positions occupied
by the French army, which will give a general idea of those of the
enemy, since each of our army corps had facing it one and sometimes
two of the enemy.

King Murat was in control of our right wing, the extremity of
which was bounded by the Pleisse near the villages of Connewitz,
Dölitz, and Mark-Kleeberg which were occupied by Prince Poniatowski
and his Poles. Next to him and behind the market-town of Wachau was
the corps of Marshal Victor. Marshal Augereau occupied Dösen.

These various corps of infantry were flanked and supported by
several masses of Marshals Kellermann's and Michaud's cavalry.

The centre, under the direct command of the Emperor, was at
Liebert-Wolkwitz. It was made up of the infantry corps of General
Lauriston and Marshal Macdonald, having with them the cavalry of
Latour-Maubourg and Sébastiani. My regiment, which was part of this
last general's corps, was positioned facing the hillock of Kelmberg,
or the Swedish redoubt.

The left wing, commanded by Marshal Ney, comprised the infantry
Corps of Marshal Marmont, and of Generals Souham and Reynier,
supported by the cavalry of the Duc de Padoue. They occupied Taucha.

A body of 15,000 men under the command of General Bertrand was
sent from Leipzig to guard the crossings of the Elster and the road
to Lutzen.

At Probstheyda, behind our centre, was the reserve commanded by
Marshal Oudinot and consisting of the young and the Old Guard, and
Nansouty's cavalry.

The venerable King of Saxony, who had been unwilling to desert his
friend the Emperor of France, remained in the town of Leipzig with
his guard and several French regiments who were there to maintain
order.

During the night of 15th-16th, Marshal Macdonald's troops were
moved to concentrate in Liebert-Wolkwitz, leaving the area of the
Kelmberg: but as there was no wish to abandon this position to the
enemy before dawn, I was told to keep it under surveillance until
first light. This was an operation of some delicacy, since I had to
advance with my regiment to the foot of the hillock, while the
French army retired for half a league in the opposite direction. I
ran the risk of being surrounded and perhaps captured with all my men
by the enemy advance-guard, whose scouts would not fail to climb to
the top of the hillock as soon as the dawn light allowed them to see
what was going on in the vast plains below them, which were occupied
by the French army.

The weather was superb and, although it was night, one could see
reasonably well by the light of the stars; but as in these
circumstances it is much easier to see what is overhead than to see
what is below one's feet, I brought my squadrons as close as possible
to the hillock so that its shadow would conceal the riders, and after
ordering silence and immobility, I awaited events.

The event which fortune had in store was one which could have
changed the future of France and the Emperor and made my name for
ever celebrated!

Half an hour before first light, three riders, coming from the
direction of the enemy, climbed, at walking pace, the hillock of
Kelmberg, from where they could not see us, although we could see
clearly their silhouettes and hear their conversation. They were
speaking in French, the one being Russian and the other two
Prussians. The first, who seemed to have some authority over his
companions, ordered one of them to go and inform their majesties that
there were no Frenchmen at this spot, and they could climb up, for in
a few minutes it would be possible to see the whole of the plain; but
they should do this right away, in case the French sent
sharp-shooters to the area.

The officer to whom these words were addressed observed that the
escort was still a long way off. "What does it matter?" was the
reply, "There is no one here but us." At these words my troops and I
redoubled our attention, and soon we saw on the top of the hillock
some twenty enemy officers, of whom one dismounted.

Although on setting up an ambush, I had no expectation of making
any great capture, I had, however warned my officers that if we saw
anyone on the Swedish redoubt, at a signal from me two squadrons
would go round it, one to left and one to right, in order to encircle
any enemy who had risked coming so close to our army. I had high
hopes, when the over-keenness of one of my troopers ruined my plan. 
This man having accidently dropped his sabre, immediately took his
carbine, and fearing that he would be late when I gave the order to
attack, he fired into the middle of the group, killing a Prussian
major.

You may imagine how, in an instant, all the enemy officers, who
had no other guard but a few orderlies, seeing themselves on the
point of being surrounded, made off at the gallop. We dared not
follow them too far for fear of falling ourselves into the hands of
the approaching escorts. We did manage to capture two officers, from
whom we could get no information; but I learned later from my friend,
Baron de Stoch, who was a colonel in the guard of the Grand Duke of
Darmstadt, that the Emperor Alexander of Russia and the King of
Prussia had been among the group of officers who almost fell into
French hands, an event which would have changed the destiny of
Europe. However, fate having decided otherwise, there was nothing
left for me to do but to withdraw smartly with my regiment to the
French lines.

On the 16th of October at eight o'clock in the morning, the allied
batteries gave the signal for the attack. A lively cannonade was
directed at our lines and the allied army marched towards us from
every point. The fighting commenced on our right, where the Poles,
driven back by the Prussians, abandoned the village of Mark-Kleeberg.

At our centre the Russians and the Austrians attacked Wachau and
Liebert-Wolkwitz six times and were repeatedly repulsed with great
losses. The Emperor regretting, no doubt, that he had abandoned that
morning the Swedish redoubt which the enemy had occupied and from
where their gunners rained down grape-shot, ordered its recapture,
which was promptly carried out by the 22nd Light Infantry aided by my
regiment.

Having obtained this first success, the Emperor, not being able to
outflank the enemy wings because their superior numbers allowed them
to present too long a front, decided to keep them occupied while he
attempted to break through their centre. To this end, he sent
Marshal Mortier to Wachau with two divisions of infantry, and Marshal
Oudinot with the Young Guard. General Drout, with sixty cannons aided
the attack, which was successful.

For his part, Marshal Victor overcame and routed the Russian Corps
commanded by Prince Eugène of Wurtemberg; but after suffering
considerable losses, the Prince was able to rally his Corps at Gossa.

At this moment General Lauriston and Marshal Macdonald debouched
from Liebert-Wolkwitz and the enemy was overthrown. The French then
took possession of the wood of Grosspossnau. General Maison was
wounded in the taking of this important point.

It was in vain that the numerous Austrian cavalry commanded by
General Klenau and aided by a host of Cossacks tried to restore the
situation, they were defeated by General Sébastian's cavalry corps. 
This was a very fierce encounter; my regiment took part; I lost
several men and my senior Major was wounded in the chest by a lance,
having failed to protect himself by carrying his rolled cape.

Prince Schwartzenberg, seeing his line badly shaken, advanced his
reserves to support it, which decided the Emperor to order a massive
cavalry charge which involved the two corps of Kellermann and
Latour-Maubourg as well as the Dragoons of the Guard. Kellermann
overcame a division of Russian Cuirassiers, but taken on the flank by
another division he had to fall back to the heights of Wachau after
taking several enemy flags.

King Murat then advanced the French infantry and the fighting was
renewed. The Russian Corps of the Prince of Wurtemberg was once more
overwhelmed and lost twenty-six guns. This treatment resulted in the
enemy centre yielding and it was about to give way when the Emperor
of Russia, who had witnessed the disaster, rapidly advanced the
numerous cavalry of his guard which, encountering the squadrons of
Latour-Maubourg in the state of confusion which always follows an
all-out charge, repelled them in their turn and took back twenty-four
of the guns which they had just captured. It was during this charge
that General Latour-Maubourg had his leg carried away by a
cannon-ball.

So far neither side had secured a marked advantage and Napoleon,
to achieve a victory, had just launched against the enemy centre the
reserve consisting of the infantry and cavalry of the Old Guard and a
corps of fresh troops newly arrived from Leipzig, when a regiment of
enemy cavalry which had either deliberately or accidently got behind
French lines created some alarm amongst the moving troops, who halted
and formed a square so as not to be taken by surprise, and before it
was possible to find out the cause of this alert, night had
everywhere suspended military operations.

There had been other events on our extreme right. For the whole
day General Merfeld had tried fruitlessly to secure a passage across
the Pleisse, defended by Poniatowski's Corps and his Poles; however,
towards the end of the day, he managed to take the village of Dölitz,
which compromised our right wing; but the infantry Chasseurs of the
Old Guard, having come from the reserve at the Pas de Charge chased
the Austrians back across the river and took some hundreds of
prisoners, among whom was General Merfeld, who found himself for the
third time, in French hands.

Although the Poles had allowed the capture of Dölitz, the Emperor,
to boost their morale, thought he should give the baton of a marshal
of France to their leader, Prince Poniatowski, who did not enjoy the
honour of bearing it for very long.

On the other side of the river Elster, the Austrian General Giulay
had taken the village of Lindenau after seven hours of fierce
fighting. When the Emperor was told of this serious event, which
compromised the way of retreat for the major part of his troops, he
ordered an attack by General Bertrand, who re-took the position by a
vigourous bayonet charge.

On our left, the impatience of Ney nearly led to a major
catastrophe. The Marshal, who commanded the left wing which had been
placed in position by the Emperor, seeing that by ten o'clock in the
morning no enemy troops had appeared, sent, on his own authority, one
of his army corps, commanded by General Souham, to Wachau, where
there seemed to be an active engagement; but while this
ill-considered movement was being carried out, the Prussian Marshal
Blücher, who had been delayed, arrived with the Silesian army and
captured the village of Möckern. Then Ney, deprived of a part of his
force, and having at his disposal only Marmont's division, was
compelled to withdraw to the walls of Leipzig and do no more than
defend the suburb of Halle.

The French lost many men in this engagement, which also had a very
disturbing effect on those of our soldiers who were in positions in
front of or to one side of Leipzig, for they heard the sound of
cannon and small-arms fire coming from behind them. However, at
about eight in the evening, the fighting ceased in all parts and the
night was peaceful.

Chap. 29.

This first day led to no decisive victory; but the French had the
advantage, since with very much smaller numbers, they had not only
held their own against the coalition, but had driven them off some of
the ground they had occupied the day before.

The troops on both sides were preparing to renew the fighting on
the following morning; but contrary to their expectations, the 17th
passed without any hostile movement on the part of either side. The
coalition was awaiting the arrival of the Russian Polish army, and
the troops which were being brought by the Prince Royal of
Sweden, Bernadotte, which would greatly increase their strength.

For his part, Napoleon, now regretting his rejection of the peace
offers which had been made to him two months previously during the
armistice, hoped to have some result from a peace mission which he
had sent the previous evening to the allied sovereigns through the
Austrian General Comte de Merfeld, who had recently been taken
prisoner.

Here could be seen a strange sequence of events. It was the Comte
de Merfeld who sixteen years previously had come to ask General
Bonaparte, then the commander of the army in Italy, for the armistice
of Léoben. It was he who had brought back to Vienna the peace treaty
concluded between the Austrian government and the directory,
represented by General Bonaparte. It was he who had carried to the
French emperor, on the night following the Battle of Austerlitz, the
proposal for an armistice made by the Austrian Emperor; now, as a
remarkable turn of fate had brought General Merfeld once more into
the Emperor's presence at a moment when he in his turn was in need
of an armistice and peace, he had high hopes that this intermediary
would return with the result he desired. However things had gone too
far for the allied sovereigns to treat with Napoleon, from whom such
a plea denoted the weakness of his position. So, although unable to
conquer us on the 16th, they hoped to overcome us by a renewed effort
with their superior numbers, and relied heavily on the defection of
the German units which were still with us, and whose leaders, all
members of the secret society, the Tugenbund, took advantage of the
lull in hostilities of the 17th to agree on the manner in which they
would execute their treacherous designs. The Comte de Merfeld's
mission did not even receive a reply.

On the morning of the 18th, the coalition began its attack. The
2nd Cavalry Corps, of which my regiment was a part, was placed as it
had been on the 16th, between Liebert-Wolkwitz and the Kelmberg. The
fighting, which broke out everywhere was fiercest towards our centre
at the village of Probstheyda which was attacked simultaneously by a
Russian and a Prussian Corps, who were driven off with tremendous
losses. The Russians vigourously attacked Holzhausen, which
Macdonald defended successfully.

About eleven o'clock, a cannonade was heard from behind Leipzig,
in the direction of Lindenau, and we learned that at this point our
troops had broken through the ring within which the enemy believed
they could contain the French army, and that General Bertrand's corps
was marching towards Weissenfeld in the direction of the Rhine,
without the enemy being able to stop him. The Emperor then ordered to
evacuation of the equipment to Lutzen.

Meanwhile, the Leipzig plateau around Connewitz and Lössnig was
the scene of a massive engagement; the earth shook with the noise of
a thousand cannon, and the enemy tried to force a passage across the
Pleisse. They were driven back, although the Poles managed to ruin
some of the bayonet charges made by our infantry. Then the 1st French
Cavalry Corps, seeing the Austrian and Prussian squadrons going to
the aid of their allies, emerged from behind the village of
Probstheyda and hurled themselves at the enemy, whom they overwhelmed
and drove back to their reserves which were led by Prince Constantine
of Russia. Defeated again at this spot the allies built up an
immense force in order to capture Probstheyda, but this formidable
mass had such a hot reception from some divisions of our infantry and
the infantry Chasseurs of the Old Guard that they promptly withdrew. 
We lost there Generals Vial and Rochambeau. The latter had just been
made a Marshal of France by the Emperor.

Bernadotte had not yet attacked the French and seemed, it was
said, to waver; but at last urged on or even threatened by the
Prussian Marshal Blücher, he decided to cross the Partha above the
village of Mockau, at the head of his troops and a Russian corps
which had been placed under his command. When a brigade of Saxon
Hussars and Lancers which was positioned at this point saw
approaching the Cossacks who preceded Bernadotte, they marched
towards them as if to give battle; but then, turning round suddenly
and forgetting about their aged King, our ally who was in the midst
of Napoleon's troops, the infamous Saxons aimed their muskets and
cannons at the French!

This force led by Bernadotte, following the left bank of the
Partha, headed for Sellerhausen which was defended by Reynier. 
Reynier, whose corps was almost entirely made up of German
contingents, having seen the desertion of the Saxon cavalry,
distrusted their infantry, which he had placed next to the cavalry of
Durette in order to restrain them; but Marshal Ney, with misplaced
confidence, ordered him to deploy the Saxons and send them to assist
a French regiment which was defending the village of Paunsdorf. The
Saxons had gone only a little distance from the French, when seeing
the Prussian ensigns in the fields of Paunsdorf they ran towards them
at top speed, led by the shameless General Russel, their commander. 
Some French officers could not believe such treachery, and thought
that the Saxons were going to attack the Prussians; so that General
Gressot, Reynier's chief-of-staff rushed towards them to moderate
what he thought was an excess of zeal, only to find himself
confronted by enemies! This defection of an entire army corps
produced a frightening gap in the French centre, and had the
additional effect of raising the allied morale. The Wurtemberg
cavalry promptly followed the example of the Saxons.

Not only did Bernadotte welcome the perfidious Saxons into his
ranks, but he used their artillery to bolster up his own, which the
former Marshal of France now aimed at Frenchmen.

The Saxons had scarcely entered the enemy ranks when they
celebrated their treachery by firing at us a hail of projectiles,
many of which were directed to my regiment, for I lost some thirty
men, among whom was Captain Bertain, an excellent officer who had
his head taken off by a cannon-ball.

So now it was Bernadotte, a man for whom French blood had procured
a throne, who was attempting to deliver to us the coup de grace.

Amid this general disloyalty, the King of Wurtemberg presented an
honourable exception, for as I have said, he had informed Napoleon
that circumstances forced him to renounce his friendship; but even
after he had taken this final step, he ordered his troops not to
attack the French without giving them ten days warning, and although
he was now an enemy of France, he dismissed from his army the general
and several officers who had handed over their troops to the Russians
at the battle of Leipzig, and withdrew all their decorations from the
turncoat regiments.

Probstheyda, however, continued to be the theatre of a most
murderous struggle. The Old Guard, deployed behind the village, held
itself in readiness to hasten to the aid of its defenders. Bulow's
Prussian corps having attempted to push forward, was heavily
defeated; but we lost in the action General Delmas, a distinguished
soldier and a man of high principles who, having been involved with
Napoleon since the creation of the Empire, had spent ten years in
retirement, but asked to be returned to active service when he saw
his country in danger.

Facing a terrible cannonade, and continual attacks, the French
line remained steadfastly in position. Towards our left, Marshal
Macdonald and General Sébastiani were holding the ground between
Probstheyda and Stötteritz, in spite of numerous attacks by Klenau's
Austrians and the Russians of Doctoroff, when they were assailed by a
charge of more than 20,000 Cossacks and Baskirs, the efforts of the
latter being directed mainly at Sébastiani's cavalry.

With much shouting, these barbarians rapidly surrounded our
squadrons, against which they launched thousands of arrows, which did
very little damage because the Baskirs, being entirely irregulars,
do not know how to form up in ranks and they go about in a mob like
a flock of sheep, with the result that the riders cannot shoot
horizontally without wounding or killing their comrades who are in
front of them, but shoot their arrows into the air to describe an arc
which will allow them to descend on the enemy. But as this system
does not permit any accurate aim, nine-tenths of the arrows miss
their target, and those that do arrive have used up in their ascent
the impulse given to them by the bow, and fall only under their own
weight, which is very small, so that they do not as a rule inflict
any serious injuries. In fact, the Baskirs, having no other arms,
are undoubtedly the world's least dangerous troops.

However, since they attacked us in swarms, and the more one killed
of these wasps, the more seemed to arrive, the huge number of arrows
which they discharged into the air of necessity caused a few
dangerous wounds. Thus, one of my finest N.C.O.s. by the name of
Meslin had his body pierced by an arrow which entered his chest and
emerged at his back. The brave fellow, taking two hands, broke the
arrow and pulled out the remaining part, but this did not save him,
for he died a few moments later. This is the only example which I
can remember of death being caused by a Baskir arrow, but I had
several men and horses hit, and was myself wounded by this ridiculous
weapon.

I had my sabre in my hand, and I was giving orders to an officer,
when, on raising my arm to indicate the point to which he was to go,
I felt my sabre encounter a strange resistance and was aware of a
slight pain in my right thigh, in which was embedded for about an
inch, a four-foot arrow which in the heat of battle I had not felt. I
had it extracted by Dr. Parot and put in one of the boxes in the
regimental ambulance, intending to keep it as a memento; but
unfortunately it got lost.

You will understand that for such a minor injury I was not going
to leave the regiment, particularly at such a critical time... The
reinforcements brought by Bernadotte and Blücher were determinedly
attacking the village of Schönfeld, not far from where the Partha
enters Leipzig. Generals Lagrange and Friederichs, who were defending
this important point, repelled seven assaults and seven times drove
the allies out of houses they had captured. General Friederichs was
killed during this action; he was a fine officer who among his other
qualities, was the most handsome man in the French army.

Nevertheless, it looked as if the allies might take Schönfeld until
Marshal Ney went to the aid of the village, which remained in French
hands. Marshal Ney received a blow on his shoulder which forced him
to leave the field of battle.

By nightfall the troops of both sides were, in most parts of the
line, in the same positions which they had occupied at the beginning
of the battle. In the evening my troopers and those of all the
divisions of Sébastiani's cavalry tethered their horses to the same
pickets which they had used for the three preceding days, and almost
all the battalions occupied the same bivouacs. So this battle which
our enemies have celebrated as a great success, was in fact
indecisive, since being greatly inferior in numbers, having almost
all the nations of Europe against us and harbouring a crowd of
traitors in our ranks, we had not yielded an inch of ground. The
English general, Sir Robert Wilson, who was in Leipzig in the rôle of
British representative and whose testimony cannot be suspected of
partiality, said of this battle:

"In spite of the defection of the Saxon army in the middle of the
battle, in spite of the courage and perseverance of the allied
troops, it proved impossible to take from the French any of the
villages which they regarded as essential to their position. Night
ended the fighting, leaving the French, and in particular the
defenders of Probstheyda, in the well-earned position of having
inspired in their enemies a generous measure of respect..."

After sunset, when it was beginning to grow dark, I was ordered to
put a stop, at the front of my regiment, to the useless exchange of
fire which usually goes on after a serious engagement. There is some
difficulty in separating men on both sides who have been fighting
each other, the more so because, to prevent the enemy from knowing
what is going on, and making use of it to fall unexpectedly on our
advance-posts, one cannot use drums or trumpets to instruct the
infantrymen to cease fire and to form up to rejoin their regiments;
but a warning is given to platoon commanders, in quiet tones, and
they then send sous-officiers to look silently for the small,
scattered groups. As the enemy were doing the same, the firing
gradually grew less and soon stopped entirely.

To make sure that no sentinel was forgotten and that this little
withdrawal to bivouac was carried out in good order, it was my custom
to have it supervised by an officer. The one who was on duty on this
evening was a Captain Joly, a brave and well-trained officer but
inclined to be obstinate. He had given evidence of this trait some
months before the battle when, given the job of distributing some
officer's remounts which had been presented on the Emperor's
instructions to those who had taken part in the Russian campaign,
M. Joly, ignoring my advice and that of his friends, had selected for
himself a magnificent light grey, which neither I nor my friends
would have because of its striking colour, and which I had at first
reserved for the trumpeters. So on the evening of the battle of
Leipzig, while M. Joly, in carrying out his duty, was riding at a walk
behind the lines of infantry, his horse stood out so clearly in spite
of the failing light, that it was picked on by the enemy and both
horse and rider were seriously wounded. The captain had a musket ball
through his body and died during the night in a house in the suburb
of Halle, to where, on the previous evening, I had sent Major Pozac.

Although the latter's wound was not dangerous, he was grieved to
think that the French army would probably leave and he would become a
prisoner of the enemy, who would deprive him of the sabre of honour
which he had been awarded by the First Consul after the battle of
Marengo when he was still only a sous-officier; but I calmed his
anxieties by taking charge of the precious sabre which, given into
the care of one of the regimental surgeons, was handed back to Pozac
when he returned to France.

Chap. 30.

The calm of the night having replaced in the fields of Leipzig
the terrible battles which they had just witnessed, the leaders of
both sides could examine their positions.

That of the Emperor Napoleon was the least favourable: if one
could blame this great man for not retreating behind the Saale eight
days before the battle, when he could have still avoided risking the
safety of his army, which was threatened by infinitely more numerous
forces, there is now even more reason to disapprove of his judgement
when, at Leipzig, one sees him completely surrounded on the field of
battle by his enemies. I use the word "completely" because, on the
18th, at eleven in the morning, Lichtenstein's Austrian corps seized
the village of Kleinzschocher, on the left bank of the Elster, and
for a time the route from Leipzig to Weissenfels, the only way of
escape for the French, was cut and Napoleon's army entirely
encircled.

It is true that this situation did not last for more than half an
hour, but would Napoleon not have been wiser to avoid all the
consequences which might have arisen from such an event by taking
shelter behind the mountains of Thuringia and the river Saale before
all the enemy forces could combine to surround him?

We now come to a very critical situation!... The French had held
on to their positions for the three days of the battle, but this
success had been achieved only at the expense of much blood, for in
killed and wounded we had 40,000 casualties! It is true that the
enemy had suffered 60,000, a figure greatly to their disadvantage,
which was attributable to the persistence with which they attacked
our entrenched positions. As, however, they had many more men than
we did, having lost 40,000 we were proportionately much more weakened
than they were.

In addition to this, the French artillery had fired during the
three days 220,000 rounds, of which 95,000 were fired on the 18th,
and there were no more than 16,000 rounds left in the reserves, that
is to say enough to continue in action for only two hours. This
shortage of ammunition, which should have been foreseen before we
engaged a powerful enemy so far from our frontiers, prevented
Napoleon from renewing the battle, which he might possibly have won,
and forced him to order a retreat.

This was a movement which it was very difficult to carry out,
because of the nature of the terrain which we occupied, which was
full of water-meadows and streams and traversed by three rivers
which created many narrow defiles which would have to be negotiated
under the eyes and within close range of the enemy, who might easily
throw our ranks into disorder during this perilous march.

There was only one means of assuring our retreat, and that was the
construction of a large number of pathways and footbridges across the
meadows, ditches, and small streams, together with larger bridges
across the Partha, the Pleisse, and principally, over the Elster,
which was joined by these various tributaries at the gates and even
within the town of Leipzig. Now, nothing could have been easier than
the creation of these indispensable means of passage, for the town
and suburbs of Leipzig, barely a musket-shot away, offered a ready
source of planks and beams, girders, nails, and rope etc.
The whole army believed that numerous crossing places had been
made since their arrival before Leipzig, and that these had been
increased on the 16th and above all on the 17th, when the whole day
had passed without any fighting. Well!... for a number of
deplorable reasons and by unbelievable negligence, nothing whatsoever
had been done!... and among those official documents which we possess
relating to this famous battle, one can find nothing, absolutely
nothing, which would show that any measures had been taken to
facilitate, in case of a retreat, the movement of the many columns
which were in action beyond the obstructions formed by the rivers and
the streets of Leipzig and its suburbs. None of the officers who
escaped from the disaster, nor any of the authors who have written
about it, have been able to show that any of the senior staff of the
army took steps to establish new crossing points or to ensure free
use of those which existed. Only General Pelet, who is a great
admirer of Napoleon and who, for this reason, is sometimes given to
exaggeration, writing fifteen years after the battle, states that
M. Odier, the deputy quartermaster of the Imperial Guard, told him
several times that he was present when one morning (he does say on
what day) the Emperor ordered a general on his staff to look into the
construction of bridges and made him specially responsible for the
task. General Pelet does not disclose the name of the general to
whom the Emperor gave this order, although it would be most important
to know it.

M. Fain, Napoleon's secretary, says in his memoirs "The Emperor
ordered the construction in the neighbouring marshes of new pathways
which would ease the passage of this long defile."

I do not know how much credit history will give to the accuracy of
these assertions; but even supposing them to be true, there are those
who think that the head of the French army should have done more than
give an order to a general staff officer, who perhaps did not have at
his disposal sappers or the necessary material, and that he should
have given the responsibility for creating new crossing points to
several officers, at least one from every regiment in each army
corps, for it is plain that no one was doing anything. Here now is
the truth of the matter, which is known to very few people.

The Emperor had for head of his general staff, Marshal Prince
Berthier, who had never left him since the Italian campaign of 1796. 
He was capable, precise, and loyal but having often suffered the
effects of the imperial temper, he had developed such a fear of
Napoleon's outbursts that he had decided never to take the
initiative on any matter, never to ask any questions, and simply to
carry out those orders he received in writing. This system, which
maintained good relations between the Major-general and his chief,
was harmful to the interests of the army; for no matter how great the
Emperor's energy and ability, it was impossible for him to see
everything and undertake everything; and so if he overlooked
something of importance nothing was done.

It seems that this is what happened at Leipzig, where, when almost
all the marshals and generals had on several occasions, and
particularly on the last two days, pointed out to Berthier how
necessary it was to provide adequate ways out, in the event of a
retreat, his invariable reply had been "The Emperor has not ordered
it." No materials were supplied, and so not a plank nor beam had been
placed across a rivulet when, during the night of 18th-19th the
Emperor ordered a retreat to Weissenfels and the river Saale.

The allies had suffered such heavy losses that they felt it
impossible to renew the struggle. They did not dare to attack us
afresh, and were on the point of retiring themselves when they
noticed the heavy equipment of the army heading for Weissenfels via
Lindenau, and realised that Napoleon was preparing to retreat. 
Whereupon they took steps to place themselves in a position to profit
from any opportunities which this movement might present to them.

The most unhappy moment of a retreat, particularly for a unit
commander, is that when he has to leave behind those wounded whom he
is compelled to abandon to the mercy of the enemy, who frequently
does not have any, and robs and murders those who are too badly
injured to follow their comrades. However, since the worst of all
things is to be left lying on the ground, I took advantage of the
night to have my men pick up all the wounded from my regiment, whom I
put in two adjoining houses, firstly to shield them from the drunken
fury of the enemy, who would occupy the suburb, and secondly to allow
them to help one another and keep up their spirits. An assistant
surgeon, M. Bordenave, offered to remain with them. I accepted his
offer, and after the peace I recommended this estimable doctor, whose
care saved the lives of many men, for the award of the Legion of
Honour.

The troops now began their march away from the battlefield where
they had shown so much courage and shed so much blood! The Emperor
left his bivouac at eight in the evening and went to the town, where
he stayed at an inn named the "Prussian Arms" in the horse market,
and after giving some orders he went to visit the aged King of
Saxony, whom he found preparing to follow him.

This King, a devoted friend, expected that to punish his
unshakable adherence to the French Emperor, the allied sovereigns
would seize his kingdom, but what grieved him more was the thought
that his army had been dishonoured by deserting to the enemy. 
Napoleon was unable to comfort the good old man, and it was with
difficulty that he persuaded him to remain in Leipzig, in the heart
of his state, and send an envoy to the confederates to ask for terms.

When this emissary had left, the Emperor said adieu to the old
King, the Queen and the Princess their daughter, a model of virtue
who had followed her father even to face the guns of the enemy. The
separation was made more unhappy when it was learned that the allies
would make no promises about the fate reserved for the Saxon monarch,
who would thus be at their mercy. He ruled over some fine provinces,
an invitation to his enemies to be implacable.

About eight in the evening the retreat began, with the corps of
Marshals Victor and Augereau, the ambulances, a part of the
artillery, the cavalry, and the Imperial Guard. While these troops
filed through the suburb of Lindenau, Marshals Ney, Marmont and
General Reynier guarded the suburbs of Halle and Rosenthal. The
Corps of Lauriston, Macdonald and Poniatowski entered the town in
succession and took up positions at the barriers which pierced the
walls, all was thus arranged for a stubborn resistance by the
rear-guard to allow the army to retreat in good order. Nevertheless,
Napoleon wished to spare Leipzig the horrors which always result from
fighting in the streets, and so he permitted the magistrates to
address a request to the allied sovereigns asking them to allow, by
an armistice of a few hours, the peaceful evacuation of the town. 
This proposal was rejected and the allies, hoping that the rear-guard
might be thrown into a confusion by which they could profit, did not
hesitate to expose to the risk of total destruction one of the finest
towns in Germany.

Several French generals then suggested, indignantly, to Napoleon
that he could assure the retreat of his army by massing it in the
centre of the town and then setting fire to all the suburbs except
that of Lindenau, by which our troops could leave while the fire held
up the enemy.

In my opinion, the allies' refusal to consent to an arrangement
which would allow the retreat to be carried on without fighting, gave
us the right to employ all possible means of defence, and fire being
the most effective in such a situation, we should have used it; but
Napoleon could not bring himself to do so, and this excessive
magnanimity cost him his throne, for the fighting which I am about to
describe resulted in the loss of almost as many men as the three days
of battle in which we had just been involved, and worse even than
that, it disorganised the army which would otherwise have arrived in
France still a potent force. The stiff resistance which for three
months the weak remnants put up against the allies is evidence
enough of what we might have done if all the French fighting men who
had survived the great battle had crossed the Rhine in good order
with their weapons. France would probably have repelled the
invaders.

That, however is not what happened, for while Napoleon, with what I
regard as misplaced generosity, refused to burn an enemy town in
order to ensure the unopposed retreat of part of his army, the
infamous Bernadotte, dissatisfied with the ardour displayed by the
allies in destroying his fellow Frenchmen, launched all the troops
under his command against the suburb of Taucha, captured it and from
there reached the avenues of the town.

Encouraged by this example, Marshal Blücher and his Prussians, the
Austrians, and the Russians did the same and attacked from all sides
the tail end of the French, who were retreating towards the bridge at
Lindenau. Finally, for good measure, a lively fusillade broke out
near this bridge, the only way for our troops to cross the Elster. 
This fusillade came from the battalions of the Saxon guard who had
been left in the town with their King, and who, regretting not to
have deserted with the other regiments of their army, wanted to show
their German patriotism by attacking from behind the French who
were passing the château where their monarch was in residence!... It
was in vain that the venerable prince appeared on the balcony, amidst
the firing, crying out "Kill me, you cowards! Kill your King, so that
I may not witness your dishonour!" The wretches continued to
slaughter the French, while the King, going back to his apartments,
took the flag of his Guard and threw it in the fire.

A parting stab in the back was given to our troops by a battalion
of men from Baden who, being notorious cowards, had been left in the
town during the battle to split logs for the fires of the bakery.
These worthless Badeners, sheltered by the walls of the big bakery,
fired from its windows on our soldiers, of whom they killed a great
many.

The French fought back bravely from house to house and although
the whole of the allied force was massed in the town filling the
avenues and main streets, our troops disputed every foot of ground as
they retired towards the big bridge across the Elster at Lindenau.

The Emperor had difficulty in getting out of the town and reaching
the outskirts through which the army was marching. He stopped and
dismounted at the last of the smaller bridges, known as the mill
bridge and it was then that he ordered the big bridge to be mined. 
He sent orders to Marshals Ney, Macdonald, and Poniatowski to hold the
town for a further twenty-four hours, or at least until nightfall, to
allow the artillery park, the equipment, and the rear-guard time to go
through the suburb and across the bridges. But the Emperor had
scarcely remounted his horse and gone a thousand paces down the road
towards Lützen when suddenly there was a massive explosion!...

The big bridge across the Elster had been blown up! Macdonald,
Lauriston, Reynier, and Poniatowski, with their troops as well as 200
artillery pieces, were still on the streets of Leipzig and all means
of retreat were now cut off. It was a total disaster!...

To explain this catastrophe, it was said later that some Prussian
and Swedish infantrymen, for whom the Badeners had opened the Halle
gate, had gradually worked their way to the region of the bridge
where, having joined some of the Saxon guard, they had occupied some
houses from which they started to fire on the French columns. The
sapper charged with the responsibility of detonating the mine was
deceived by this fire into thinking that the enemy had arrived, and
that the time had come for him to carry out his mission, and so he
put a light to the fuse. Others blamed a colonel of the engineers
named Montfort, who at the sight of some enemy infantrymen had taken
it on himself to order the detonation of the explosives. This last
version was adopted by the Emperor, and M. de Monfort was put on a
charge and made a scapegoat for the fatal event, but it later became
clear that he had nothing to do with it. However this may be, the
army laid the blame once more on the Major-general, Prince Berthier,
and it was justly claimed that he should have put the protection of
the bridge in the hands of an entire brigade, whose general should
have been made personally responsible for giving the order to blow it
up, when he thought the moment had come to do so. Prince Berthier
defended himself with his usual response "The Emperor had not ordered
it!..."

After the destruction of the bridge, some of the French whose
retreat was thus cut off, jumped into the Elster in the hope of
swimming across. Several of them succeeded in doing so, Marshal
Macdonald being among them; but the greater number, including among
others Prince Poniatowski, were drowned, because after crossing the
river they were unable to climb the muddy bank, which was lined by
enemy soldiers.

Those of our soldiers who were trapped in the town and its suburbs
aimed only to sell their lives as dearly as possible. They
barricaded themselves behind the houses and fought all day and part
of the night, but when their ammunition was exhausted they were
forced to retire into their improvised defences where they were
nearly all slaughtered! The carnage did not end until two o'clock in
the morning!...

The number of those massacred in the houses is given as 13,000,
while 25,000 were taken prisoner. The enemy collected 250 cannons.

After describing in general the events which followed the battle
of Leipzig, I shall now describe some of those which related
particularly to my regiment and Sébastiani's cavalry corps to which
it belonged. Seeing that we had for three consecutive days repelled
the enemy attacks and maintained our positions on the field of
battle, the men were greatly surprised and disgusted when, in the
evening of the 18th, we learned that because of shortage of
ammunition we were about to retreat. We hoped that at least(and
that appeared to be the Emperor's intention) we would go no further
than across the river Saale to the proximity of the fortress of
Erfurt, where we could renew our stocks of ammunition and recommence
hostilities. So we mounted our horses at eight in the evening on the
18th of October, and abandoned the battlefield on which we had fought
for three days and where we left the bodies of so many of our gallant
comrades.

We had hardly left our bivouac when we ran into some of the
difficulties arising from the failure of the general staff to make
any arrangements for the withdrawal of such a large body of troops. 
At every minute the columns, particularly the artillery and cavalry,
were held up by the need to cross wide ditches, bogs, and streams over
which it would have been easy to put small bridges! Wheels and horses
sank into the mud and, the night being very dark, there was
congestion everywhere; our progress was therefore extremely slow,
even when we were in the open country, and often completely arrested
in the streets of the suburbs and the town. My regiment which was at
the front of the column formed by Excelmans' division, which led this
wearisome march, did not reach the bridge at Lindenau until four in
the morning on the 19th. When we had crossed over, we were far from
foreseeing the appalling catastrophe which would occur in a few
hours.

Day broke; the fine, wide road was covered by troops of all arms,
which showed that the army would still be of considerable strength on
arriving at the Saale. The Emperor passed... but as he galloped
along the side of the marching column, he did not hear the cheers
which usually greeted his presence!... The army was displeased with
the little effort which had been made to secure its retreat since
leaving the battlefield. What would the troops have said if they had
known of the inadequate arrangements made at the Elster, which they
had just crossed, but where so many of their comrades would lose
their lives?

It was during a halt at Markranstadt, a little town some three
leagues from Leipzig, that we heard the explosion of the mine which
destroyed the bridge; but instead of being alarmed, we rejoiced, for
we all believed that the fuse would not have been lit until after the
passage of all our columns, and in order, then, to prevent that of
the enemy.

During the few hours of rest which we had at Markranstadt,
without being aware of the catastrophe which had occurred at the
river, I was able to review our squadrons in detail and find out what
losses we had suffered during the three days of conflict. I was
dismayed! For they came to 149 men, of whom 60 were killed, among
whom were two captains, three lieutenant and eleven N.C.O.s. A very
large fraction of the 700 men with which the regiment had arrived on
the battlefield on the morning of October the 16th. Nearly all the
wounded had been hit by cannon-balls or grape-shot which, sadly, gave
them little hope of recovery. My losses might have been doubled if I
had not, during the battle, taken precautions to shield my regiment
from cannon fire, as much as possible. This requires some
explanation.

There are circumstances where the most humane of generals finds
himself in the painful position of having to expose his troops openly
to enemy fire; but it often happens that certain commanders deploy
their men uselessly in front of enemy batteries, and take no steps to
avoid casualties, although sometimes this is very easy, particularly
for cavalry, who because of the rapidity of their movements can go
swiftly to the point where they are required and take up the desired
formation. It is when large masses of cavalry are involved on
extensive battlefields that these measures of preservation are most
required, and where, however, they are least employed.

At Leipzig, on the 16th of October, Sébastiani, commanding the 2nd
Cavalry Corps, having placed his three divisions between the villages
of Wachau and Liebert-Wolkwitz, and indicated to each divisional
general roughly the position he should occupy, Exelman found himself
placed on undulating ground intersected, as a result, by small
ridges and hollows. The Corps formed a line of considerable length. 
The enemy cavalry, being a long way from us, could not take us by
surprise. I took advantage of the hollows in the ground where our
brigade was positioned to conceal my regiment which, though formed up
and ready for action, saw the greater part of the day pass without
losing a single man, for the cannon-balls went over their heads while
neighbouring corps suffered considerable casualties.

I was congratulating myself on having done this when General
Exelmans, on the pretext that everyone should be equally exposed to
danger, ordered me, in spite of the representations of my brigade
commander, to take the regiment a hundred paces forward. I obeyed,
but in a short time I had a captain, M. Bertin, killed and some twenty
men put out of action. I then had recourse to a different tactic:
this was to send some troopers, well spaced out, to subject the enemy
gunners to carbine fire. The enemy then advanced some infantrymen to
counter this, and the two groups being involved in a fire-fight
between the lines, the artillery could not use their guns for fear of
hitting their own men. It is true that our gunners were in the same
boat, but the cessation of gunfire in a minor corner of the
battlefield was to our benefit, since the enemy had many more guns
than we did. In addition to this, our infantry and that of the enemy
being in action at the village of Liebert-Wolkwitz, the cavalry of
both sides had to await the outcome of this savage fighting; it
served no useful purpose for them to demolish one another by cannon
fire, rather than leave the fighting to the infantrymen, who were for
the most part only frightening the birds. My example was followed by
all the regimental commanders of the other brigades, and the cannons
opposite them too ceased fire, sparing the lives of many men. A
greater number would have been spared if General Exelmans had not
come and ordered the withdrawal of the men on foot, which was the
signal for a hail of cannon-balls hurled at our squadrons.
Fortunately the day was almost over.

It was now the evening of the 16th. All the colonels of cavalry
belonging to 2nd Corps had found this method of sparing their men so
effective that by common accord we all used it in the battle of the
18th. When the enemy started firing their cannons, we sent out our
foot-soldiers, and as they would have captured the guns if they were
not defended, the enemy had to send infantrymen to defend them, and
so the guns were silenced on both sides. The commanders of the enemy
cavalry which faced us, having probably realised what we were up to,
started doing the same, so that on the third day the guns attached to
the cavalry of both parties were much less used. This did not
prevent vigourous cavalry engagements, but at least they were
directed to the taking or holding of positions, in which we did not
spare ourselves, but the cannonades aimed at stationary targets,
which too often replace cavalry to cavalry actions, do nothing but
kill good men for no useful purpose. This was something which
Exelmans did not grasp, but as he was on the move all the time from
one wing to the other, as soon as he had left a regiment the colonel
sent out his foot-soldiers and the guns were silent.

All the cavalry generals, including Sébastiani, were so much
persuaded of the advantages of this method, that eventually Exelmans
was ordered not to irritate the enemy gunners by firing our guns at
them, when the cavalry was only standing-to, and had neither an
attack nor a defence to undertake. Two years later I used the same
tactics at Waterloo against the English guns, and I lost far fewer
men than I would have done otherwise: but now let us return to
Markranstadt.

Chap. 31.

It was while the Emperor and the divisions which had come out of
Leipzig were halted at this spot, that we heard the dreadful news of
the destruction of the bridge at Lindenau, which deprived the army of
almost all its artillery and half of its men, who were taken
prisoner; and which delivered some thousands of our wounded comrades
to the assaults and knives of the brutish enemy, full of liquor and
encouraged to massacre by their unscrupulous officers! There was
widespread grief! Each regretted the loss of a relative, a friend,
some comrade in arms! The Emperor seemed appalled!... However, he
ordered Sébastiani's cavalry to retrace their steps to the bridge, in
order to gather and protect any stragglers who had been able to cross
the river at some point, after the explosion.

In order to speed this help, my regiment and the 24th, who were the
best mounted in the corps, were told to go ahead of the column and
leave at a rapid trot. As General Wathiez was indisposed, and I was
the next in seniority, I had to take command of the brigade.

When we had reached half way to Leipzig, we heard much gunfire,
and as we approached the avenues we could hear the despairing cries
of the unfortunate French, who having no means of retreat and no
cartridges for their firearms, were unable to defend themselves and
were hunted from street to street, and house to house, and,
overwhelmed by numbers, were disgracefully butchered by the enemy,
mainly the Prussians, the Badeners, and the Saxon guards.

It would be impossible for me to express the fury felt then by the
two regiments which I commanded. All longed for vengeance and
regretted that this was denied them, since the Elster, with its
broken bridge, separated us from the assassins and their victims. Our
anger was increased when we came across about 2000 Frenchmen, most of
them without clothes and nearly all wounded, who had escaped death
only by jumping into the river and swimming across in the face of
the shots being fired at them from the opposite bank. Marshal
Macdonald was among them; he owed his life to his physical strength
and his ability as a swimmer. The Marshal was completely naked and
his horse had been drowned, so I quickly found some clothes for him
and lent him the spare horse which always came with me, which allowed
him to go immediately to rejoin the Emperor at Markranstadt, and to
give him an account of the disaster of which he had been a witness,
and in which one of the principal episodes had been the death of
Prince Poniatowski, who had perished in the waters of the Elster.

The remainder of the French who had managed to cross the river had
been obliged to discard their arms in order to swim, and had no means
of defence. They ran across the fields to avoid falling into the
hands of four or five hundred Prussians, Saxons, and Badeners, who,
not satisfied with the blood-bath of the massacres in the town, had
made a footbridge of beams and planks across the remaining arches of
the bridge, and had come to kill any of our unfortunate soldiers whom
they could find on the road to Markranstadt.

As soon as I caught sight of this group of assassins, I instructed
Colonel Schneit of the 24th to combine with my regiment to form a
vast semi-circle round them, and then sounded the charge!... The
result was horrifying! The bandits, taken by surprise, put up very
little resistance and there ensued a massacre, for no quarter was
given!...

I was so enraged at these wretches, that before the charge started
I had promised myself that I would run my sabre through any of them I
could catch; however, when I found myself in their midst and saw that
they were drunk and leaderless except for two Saxon officers who were
fear-stricken at our vengeful approach, I realised that this was not
a fight but an execution, and that it would not be a good thing for
me to take part in it. I feared that I might find pleasure in
killing some of these scoundrels, so I put my sabre back in its
scabbard and left to our soldiers the business of exterminating these
assassins, two-thirds of whom were laid dead.

The remainder, including two officers and several Saxon guards,
fled towards the debris of the bridge, hoping to recross the
footbridge; but as they could cross only one by one and our Chasseurs
were hard on their heels, they entered a large nearby inn and began
to shoot at my men, helped by some Prussians and Badeners on the
opposite bank.

As it seemed likely that the noise of firing would attract larger
forces to the bank from where, without crossing the river, they could
destroy my regiment by small-arms and cannon fire, I decided to bring
matters to a conclusion, and ordered the majority of the Chasseurs to
dismount and taking their carbines and plenty of ammunition to attack
the rear of the inn and set on fire the stables and the hay loft. 
The assassins, shut in the inn, seeing that they were about to be
caught in the flames, tried to make a sortie; but as soon as they
appeared in the doorway our Chasseurs shot them with their carbines.

It was in vain that they sent one of the Saxon officers to me to
intercede; I was pitiless, and refused to treat as soldiers
surrendering after an honourable defence, these monsters who had
murdered our comrades who were prisoners of war. So the four to five
hundred Prussians, Badeners, and Saxons who had crossed the
footbridge were all killed! I sent this information to General
Sébastiani, who halted, midway, the other brigades of the Light
Cavalry.

The fire which we had lit in the forage store of the inn soon
spread to the neighbouring houses. A major part of the village of
Lindenau, which lines both sides of the road, was burned, which would
delay the repair of the bridge and the passage of enemy troops, bent
on pursuing and harrying the retreating French army.

The mission being completed, I led the brigade back to
Markranstadt, together with the 2000 Frenc, who had escaped from the
calamity at the bridge. Among them were several officers of all
ranks; The Emperor questioned them on what they knew about the
blowing up of the bridge, and about the massacre of the French
prisoners of war. It seems likely that this sorry tale made the
Emperor regret that he had not taken the advice given him in the
morning, to bar the enemy advance by setting fire to the suburbs, and
even, if need be, the town of Leipzig itself, most of whose
inhabitants had fled during the three day's battle.

In the course of this return to the bridge of Lindenau, the
brigade which I was commanding suffered only three casualties, one of
which was a member of my regiment; but it was one of my finest
sous-officiers. He had been awarded the Legion of Honour and was
named Foucher. A bullet wound, received at the inn, had gone through
both thighs, leaving four holes; but in spite of this serious injury
the brave Foucher made the retreat on horseback, refused to enter the
hospital at Erfurt, which we passed a few days later and remained
with the regiment until we reached France. It is true that his
friends and all the men in his platoon took great care of him, but he
thoroughly deserved it.

As I left Leipzig, I was concerned about the fate of the wounded
from my regiment, whom I had left behind, including Major Pozac; but
luckily the distant suburb in which I had put them was not visited by
the Prussians.

You have seen that during the last day of the great battle, an
Austrian Corps tried to cut off our retreat by capturing Lindenau,
through which passes the main road leading to Weissenfels and Erfurt,
and how, on the Emperor's orders, they had been driven off by General
Bertrand, who, after re-opening this route, had made his way to
Weissenfels, where we rejoined him.

After the losses occasioned by the destruction of the bridge at
Lindenau, it was impossible to think of stopping what remained of the
army at the Saale, so Napoleon crossed the river.

A fortnight before the battle, this water-course had offered him
an impregnable position, which he had spurned to risk a general
engagement in open country, putting behind him three rivers and a
large town, which presented obstructions at every step!... The great
captain had relied too much on his "star" and on the incapacity of
the enemy generals.

In the event, they made such serious mistakes that in spite of an
immense superiority in numbers, they were not only unable, during a
battle lasting three days, to take from us a single one of the
villages we were defending, but I have heard the King of Belgium, who
was then serving with the Russian army, say to the Duc d'Orleans that
on two occasions the allies were in such confusion that the order for
a retreat was given: but then the situation changed and it our army
which had to submit to the fortune of war.

After crossing the Saale, Napoleon thanked and dismissed those
officers and soldiers of the Confederation of the Rhine, who either
from some sense of honour or from lack of opportunity were still in
our ranks. He even carried magnanimity so far as to allow them to
retain their arms, although he was entitled to treat them as
prisoners of war, since their sovereigns had joined the forces of our
enemies. The French army continued its retreat to Erfurt, without
anything happening but an encounter at Kosen, where a single French
division defeated an Austrian army corps, and took prisoner its
commanding general the Comte de Giulay.

Led on always by the hope of a fighting return to Germany, and by
the help which he would receive in such a case from the fortresses
which he was now forced to leave behind him, Napoleon put a numerous
garrison into Erfurt. He had left in Dresden 25,000 men, under the
command of Saint-Cyr; at Hamburg 30,000 under Davout, and many
strongholds on the Oder and the Elbe, manned in accordance with their
importance; these garrisons made up a loss in manpower to add to that
due to the forts of Danzig and the Vistula.

I shall not repeat what I have already said about the
disadvantages of deploying too many of one's troops to man forts
which one is forced to leave behind. I shall merely point out that
Napoleon left in the forts of Germany 80,000 men, not one of whom
returned to France until after the fall of the empire, which they
might perhaps have prevented, had they been defending our frontiers.

The arsenal at Erfurt was able to make good the loss of our
artillery. The Emperor, who up till now had borne his reverses with
stoical resignation, was however upset by the departure of his
brother-in-law, the King Murat, who, with the excuse that he was
going to defend his kingdom of Naples, abandoned Napoleon, to whom he
owed everything!... Murat, at one time so brilliant in war, had done
nothing much during this campaign of 1813. It is certain that,
although he was in our ranks, he was carrying on a correspondence
with M. de Metternich, the prime minister of Austria, who, dangling
before his eyes the example of Bernadotte, guaranteed, in the name of
the allied sovereigns, the protection of his kingdom if he would join
Napoleon's enemies. Murat left the French army at Erfurt and had
scarcely arrived in Naples when he began preparations for war against
us.

It was also at Erfurt that the Emperor learned of the audacious
scheme of the Bavarians, his former allies, who, after deserting his
cause, and joining with an Austrian Corps and several groups of
Cossacks had set off under the command of General the Comte de Wrède,
whose ambition it was not only to stop the French army, but to make
it captive, along with its Emperor.

General de Wrède marching parallel to us but at two days distance
had already reached Wartzbourg with 60,000 men. He detached 10,000
to Frankfort and with the remaining 50,000 he went to the little fort
of Hanau in order to bar the passage of the French. General de
Wrède, who had fought on our side in Russia, thought that he would
find the French army in the deplorable state to which cold and hunger
had reduced those retreating from Moscow by the time they reached the
Beresina, but we soon showed him that in spite of our misfortunes, we
still had soldiers in good heart, and quite capable of defeating
Austro-Bavarians.

General de Wrède, who did not know that the troops which we had
fought at Leipzig, though following, were a long way behind us, had
become very bold and believed he could trap us between two fires. It
was not possible for him to do so; though, as several enemy corps were
trying to mount an attack on our right by going through the
mountains of Franconia, while the Bavarians stood in front of us, the
situation could have become serious.

Napoleon rose to the challenge and marched briskly towards Hanau,
whose approaches are protected by thick forests and notably by the
well-known pass of Gelnhausen, through which runs the river Kinzig. 
This river, whose banks are very steep, runs between two mountains
which are separated by a narrow gap which allows the passage of the
river, beside which has been made a fine main road, cut into the
rock, and running from Fulde to Frankfort-on-main via Hanau.

Sébastiani's cavalry corps which had been the advance-guard from
Weissenfels to Fulde, where one enters the mountains, should have
been replaced by infantry at this point. I have never understood for
what reason this well known principle of warfare was not followed in
these grave circumstances; but to our astonishment, Exelmans' cavalry
division continued to march in front of the army, led by my regiment
and the 24th Chasseurs. I was in command of the brigade. We learned
from the peasants that the Austro-Bavarian army already occupied
Hanau, and that a strong division was facing the French, to dispute
the passage of the defile.

My position, as commander of the advance-guard, was now very
difficult; for how could I, without a single infantryman and with
cavalry packed between two high mountains and an uncrossable torrent,
fight troops on foot whose scouts, climbing up the rocks, would shoot
us at close range? I sent at once to warn the divisional general, but
Exelmans could not be found. However I had been ordered to advance
and I could not stop the divisions which were following me, so I
continued my march until at a bend in the valley my scouts told me
that they were in sight of a detachment of enemy Hussars.

The Austro-Bavarians had made the same mistake as our leaders; for
if the latter had sent cavalry to attack a long and narrow pass
where no more the ten or twelve horsemen could ride abreast, our
enemies had sent cavalry to defend a position where a hundred
sharpshooters could hold up ten regiments of cavalry! I was highly
delighted to see that the enemy had no infantry, and as I knew from
experience that when two opposing columns meet at a narrow spot,
victory always goes to the one which, hurling itself at the head of
the enemy, drives it back into the troops behind it, I launched at the
gallop my elite company, of which only the leading platoon could
engage the enemy; but they did so with such élan that the head of the
Austrian column was overwhelmed and the rest thrown into such
complete confusion that my troopers had only to take aim.
We continued the pursuit for more than an hour. The enemy
regiment in front of us was that of General Ott. I had never seen
such well turned out Hussars. they had come from Vienna, where they
had been fitted with completely new uniforms, Their outfit, although
a little theatrical, looked very handsome: the pelisse and dolman in
white and the trousers and the shako in lilac; all clean bright and
shining. One might have thought they were going to a ball, or to
play in a comedy! This brilliant appearance contrasted somewhat with
the more modest toilette of our Chasseurs, many of whom were still
dressed in the worn clothing in which they had bivouacked for
eighteen months, in Russia, Poland, and Germany, and whose
distinguishing colours had been dimmed by the smoke of cannon and the
dust of battlefields. However, under those threadbare garments were
brave hearts and sturdy limbs. So the white pelisses of Ott's
Hussars became horribly bloodstained, and this pretty regiment lost
in killed and wounded more than 200 men, without one of our Chasseurs
having the smallest sabre cut, the enemy having always fled without
ever turning to fight. Our Chasseurs took a large number of
excellent horses and gold-braided pelisses.

Up until then everything had gone well, but as I galloped after
the victors who pursued the vanquished, I was a bit worried about the
end of this strange encounter, for the diminishing height of the
mountains which bordered the Kinzig indicated that we were nearing
the end of the valley, and it was likely that we would find ourselves
in a small plain, full of infantry whose volleys and cannon fire
would make us pay dearly for our success: but happily there was no
such thing, and as we emerged from the pass we saw not a single
infantryman, but only some cavalry, part of which comprised the main
body of that section of Ott's regiment of Hussars, which we had so
roughly manhandled and who in their panic continued their headlong
flight, taking with them some fifteen squadrons, who retired to
Hanau.

General Sébastiani then deployed his three divisions of cavalry
which were soon supported by the infantry of Marshals Macdonald and
Victor, and several batteries. Then the Emperor with part of his
guard, appeared and the rest of the French army followed.

It was now the evening of the 29th of October; we established our
bivouacs in a nearby wood; we were only a league from Hanau and the
Austro-Bavarian army.

Chap. 32.

Here now are the reasons why Exelmans dropped behind when we
were going through the pass. Before we entered the valley, the
scouts had brought to him two Austrian soldiers who, absent from
their unit, were scrounging and drinking in an isolated village.
Exelmans was having them questioned in German by one of his aides,
when he was surprised to hear them reply in fluent French. One of
these men, half-drunk, and thinking it would do him good, announced
that they were Parisians. As soon as he uttered these words, the
general, furious that Frenchmen should take up arms against their
fellow countrymen, ordered them to be immediately shot. The poor lad
who had boasted of being French was about to be put to death, when
his companion, sobered by this fearful spectacle, protested that
neither of them had ever set foot in France, but having been born in
Vienna to parents who, although they came from Paris, were
naturalised Austrians, they were regarded as Austrian subjects and
had been forced to join the regiment assigned to them. To prove this
he showed his army record which confirmed the fact. Exelmans,
yielding to the advice of his aides-de-camp, agreed to spare the
innocent man.

At this stage, hearing the sound of firing, the General wished
to reach the head of the column which I was commanding; but on his
arrival at the mouth of the pass, he found it impossible to get
through and take a place in the ranks because of the speed with
which the two regiments were galloping after the enemy. After trying
many times he was so jostled that he fell with his horse into the
Kinzig and nearly drowned.

The Emperor, who was preparing for battle, took advantage of
the night to reduce the amount of wheeled transport by sending all
the baggage off to the right, in the direction of Coblentz, escorted
by some battalions of infantry and the cavalry of Lefebvre-Denouettes
and Milhau. This was a great relief to the army.

On the morning of the 30th, the Emperor had at his disposal only
the infantry Corps of Macdonald and Victor, amounting to 5000 men,
supported by Sébastiani's cavalry division.

In the direction from which we were coming, a large forest, through
which the road runs, covers the approach to Hanau. The tall trees of
this forest allow movement without much difficulty. The town of
Hanau is built on the other side of the river Kinzig.

General de Wrède, although not lacking in military skill, had,
however, made the serious mistake of placing his army where it had
the river at its back, which deprived it of the support which it
could have received from the fortifications of Hanau, with which the
Bavarian general could not communicate except by the bridge of
Lamboy, which was his only road of retreat. It is true that the
position he occupied barred the way to Frankfort and to France, and
he felt certain that he could prevent us from forcing a passage.

On the 30th of October at dawn, the battle began, like a great
hunting party. Some grape-shot and some small-arms fire from our
infantry, together with a charge in open order by Sébastiani's
cavalry, scattered the first line of the enemy, somewhat unskillfully
placed at the extreme edge of the wood; but as one penetrated a
little further, our squadrons could not operate except in the few
clearings which they came across, only the Light Infantry followed in
the steps of the Bavarians, whom they pursued from tree to tree to
the end of the forest. At that point they had to stop, faced by an
enemy line of forty thousand men, whose front was covered by eighty
guns!

If the Emperor had had with him all the troops which he brought
from Leipzig, a vigorous attack would have made him master of the
Lamboy bridge, and General de Wrède would have paid dearly for his
temerity, but Marshals Mortier and Marmont, and General Bertrand, as
well as the artillery, were held up by various passes, mainly that of
Gelnhausen, and had not yet arrived. Napoleon had no more than ten
thousand troops. The enemy should have taken advantage of this to
attack us in force, but they did not dare, and this hesitation gave
time for the artillery of the Imperial Guard to arrive.

As soon as General Drouet, their commander, had fifteen pieces in
the field, he began firing, and his line grew in size until he had
fifty cannons, which he advanced, firing continuously, although he
still had very few troops behind him to give support; however it was
not possible for the enemy to see through the thick smoke from
the guns, that the gunners had little to back them up. Eventually
the infantry Chasseurs of the Imperial Old Guard appeared, just as a
gust of wind blew away the smoke.

At the sight of their busbies, the Bavarian infantry recoiled in
fear. General de Wrède, wishing to stop this disorder at all costs,
ordered all his cavalry, Austrian, Bavarian, and Russian, to charge our
artillery, and in an instant our battery was surrounded by a swarm of
horsemen!... But at the voice of their commander, General Drouet,
who, sword in hand, set them an example in resistance, the French
gunners, taking their muskets, remained calmly behind their guns,
from where they fired point-blank at the enemy. Nevertheless, the
great number of the latter would have eventually triumphed, had not,
on the Emperor's order, all Sébastiani's cavalry, along with all that
of the Imperial Guard, mounted Grenadiers, Dragoons, Chasseurs,
Mamelukes, Lancers, and Guards of Honour, hurled themselves furiously
on the enemy cavalry, killing a great number and dispersing the rest.

Then, falling on the Bavarian infantry squares, they broke them
and inflicted tremendous losses, at which stage the Bavarian army,
put to rout, fled to the bridge over the Kinzig and to the town of
Hanau.

General de Wrède was a brave man, so, before admitting
himself beaten by forces half as numerous as his, he resolved to make
another effort, and gathering all the troops remaining to him, he
made a surprise attack on us. Suddenly a fusillade broke out and the
forest rang once more to the sound of artillery; cannon-balls
whistled through the trees, from which great branches fell with a
crash... The eye sought in vain to pierce the depths of the wood; one
could hardly see the flash of the guns, which lit, at intervals, the
shade cast by the foliage of the huge beeches, beneath whose canopy
we fought.

Hearing the noise made by this attack, the Emperor sent, from his
position, the infantry Grenadiers of his Old Guard, led by General
Friant who soon overcame this last effort of the enemy, who now
hastily left the field of battle to re-group under the protection of
the fort of Hanau, which they abandoned during the night, leaving
behind a great number of wounded. The French occupied the fort.

We were no more than two short leagues from Frankfort, a
considerable town, with a stone bridge across the Main. The French
army would need to go along the bank of this river to reach Mainz and
the frontier of France, which was a day's march from Frankfort; so
Napoleon detached Sébastiani's corps and a division of infantry to go
and occupy Frankfort, and to take over and destroy the bridge. The
Emperor and the bulk of the army bivouacked in the forest.

The main road from Hanau to Frankfort runs along the right bank of
the river Maine. General Albert, a friend of mine, who commanded the
infantry which accompanied us, had been married, some years
previously, at Offenbach, a charming little town built on the left
bank exactly opposite the spot where, after emerging from the woods
of Hanau, we rested our horses, on the immense and beautiful plain of
Frankfort.

Finding himself so close to his wife and their children,
General Albert was unable to resist the temptation to have news of them, and to reassure them of his well-being after the dangers he had
encountered at the battles of Leipzig and Hanau. To do this he
exposed himself to more risk, perhaps, than he had run during either
of these sanguinary affairs, for, advancing on horseback and in
uniform, to the edge of the river, he hailed, in spite of our
warnings, a boatman who knew him; but while he was chatting with this
man, a Bavarian officer ran up with a picket of infantry, who aiming
their weapons, prepared to shoot at the French general. However, a
large body of citizens and boatmen crowded in front of the soldiers
and prevented them from firing, for General Albert was very well
liked in Offenbach.

As I looked at this town, to where I had come while fighting for
my country, I did not dream that one day it would be my refuge from
the proscription of a French government, and that I would spend three
years there in exile!...

After leaving the forest of Hanau to go on his way to Frankfort,
the Emperor had hardly gone two leagues when he learned that fighting
had broken out once more behind him. This was because the Bavarian
general, who, following his defeat the day before, had expected to be
chased, with the Emperor at his heels, had taken reassurance from
seeing the French army more concerned to reach the Rhine than to
pursue him, and had launched a brisk attack on our rear-guard. 
However Macdonald, Marmont, and Bertrand, who with their troops had
occupied Hanau during the night, having allowed the Bavarians to
attack them on that side of the Kinzig, received them with their
bayonets, overwhelmed and massacred them! General de Wrède was
seriously injured, and his son-in-law, Prince d'Oettingen was killed.

The command of the enemy army then devolved onto the Austrian
General Fresnel, who ordered a retreat, and the French army continued
on its way peacefully towards the Rhine. We recrossed the river on
the 2nd and 3rd of November 1813, after a campaign which included
brilliant victories and disasterous defeats, the main cause of which,
as I have said, was the mistake made by Napoleon when, instead of
making peace in June, following the victories of Lutzen and Bautzen,
he quarreled with Austria, which involved the Confederation of the
Rhine, that is to say all of Germany, so that he soon had the
whole of Europe ranged against him.

After we had returned to France, the Emperor spent only six days
at Mainz, and then went to Paris, preceded by twenty-six flags taken
from our enemies. The army disapproved of this rapid departure on the
part of Napoleon. It was accepted that there were important
political reasons which called him to Paris, but it was thought that
he should have divided his time between his capital and the need to
re-organise his army, and that he should have gone from one to the
other to encourage the activity of each, for he should have learned
by experience that in his absence little or nothing was done.

The last cannon shots which I heard in 1813 were fired at the
battle of Hanau, where I nearly spent the last day of my life. My
regiment carried out five charges, two on infantry squares, one on
artillery, and two on Bavarian cavalry; but the greatest danger I ran
was when an ammunition wagon, loaded with mortar bombs, caught fire
and exploded close to me. I have told how, on the Emperor's order,
all the cavalry were in action at a particularly difficult moment. 
Now, in these circumstances, it is not good enough for a unit
commander to send his troops blindly forward, a thing I have seen
done on several occasions, but he must pay the closest attention to
the ground over which his squadrons are about to pass, in case he
sends them into bogs and marshes.

I was therefore, a few paces ahead, followed by my regimental
staff and with my trumpeter at my side, who, at a given command, would
signal to the various squadrons the obstacles which they would find
in their way. Although the trees were widely spaced, the passage
through the forest was difficult for the cavalry because the ground
was littered with dead and wounded men and horses, arms, cannons and
ammunition wagons, abandoned by the Bavarians; and you can understand
that in these conditions when one is galloping through shot and shell
to reach the enemy one cannot always take much care of oneself, and I
relied greatly on the intelligence and suppleness of my excellent and
brave Turkish horse, Azolan! The little group which followed me had
been much reduced by a blast of grape-shot which had wounded several
of my orderlies and I had beside me only the trumpeter, a charming
and good young man, when I heard from all along the line, cries of
"Look out, Colonel!" And I saw ten paces away a Bavarian ammunition
wagon which one of our shells had set on fire.

A huge tree which had been knocked down by cannon-balls
barred my way forward, and to go round it would have taken too long. 
I shouted to the trumpeter to duck, and crouching on my horse's neck, I
urged him to jump the tree. Azolan leapt a long way, but not far
enough to clear all the leafy branches in which his legs became
entangled. The wagon was now in flames and the powder about to
catch! I thought I was done for... when my horse, as if he realised
our common danger, started bounding four or five feet into the air,
getting always further from the wagon, and as soon as he was clear of
the branches he galloped off with such speed that he really seemed to
be "Ventre à terre". 

I was shaken when the explosion occurred, but it seemed I was out
of range of the bursting shells for neither I nor my horse were
touched.

Sadly it was not so for my poor young trumpeter, for when we resumed
our march after the explosion we saw his body, mutilated by the shell
fragments, and his horse also cut to pieces.

My brave Azolan had already saved my life at the Katzbach. I now
owed him my life for the second time. I made much of him, and as if
to show his pleasure he whinnied at the top of his voice. It is at
times like these that one has to believe that some animals are more
intelligent than is generally thought.

I greatly regretted the death of my trumpeter, who by his courage
and his behaviour had made himself liked by all the regiment. He was
the son of a teacher at the college in Toulouse, and had had a good
education. He delighted in producing Latin quotations, and an hour
before his death, the poor lad, having noticed that almost all the
trees in the forest of Hanau were beeches, whose branches stretched
out to make a sort of roof, had thought it a suitable occasion to
declaim one of Virgil's eclogues, beginning:

"Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi..."

which greatly amused Marshal Macdonald who happened to be passing and
who exclaimed, "There's a jolly lad whose memory isn't upset by his
surroundings; I'll bet it's the first time anyone has recited Virgil
to the sound of enemy cannon fire!"

"Those who live by the sword, perish by the sword" says the
scripture, and if this is not applicable to every soldier, it was to
a great many under the Empire. For example, M. Guindet, who killed
Prince Louis of Prussia in the fighting at Saalefeld, was himself
killed at the battle of Hanau. It was no doubt the fear of meeting a
similar fate which led the Russian General Czernicheff to run away
from danger.

You may remember that in the first months of 1812, this officer,
then a colonel, an aide-de-camp and favourite of the Emperor
Alexander, came to Paris where he abused his position to corrupt two
poor employees in the Ministry of War, who were executed for having
sold to him situation reports on the French army, and that the
Russian Colonel only escaped the penalty of the law by secretly
fleeing the country. On his return to Russia, M. de Czernicheff,
although he was a courtier rather than a soldier, was given the rank
of general officer and the command of a division of 3000 Cossacks,
the only Russian troops who appeared at Hanau, where their leader
played a rôle which made him a laughing stock among the Austrians and
Bavarians who were present at this engagement.

Czernicheff, as he marched towards us, spoke loudly of victory,
believing that he had to face only soldiers who were sick and
disorganised; but he changed his tune when he saw himself in the
presence of the hardy and vigorous troops returning from Leipzig. 
General de Wrède had great difficulty in persuading him to enter the
line, and as soon as he heard the fearsome cannonade of our
artillery, he and his 3000 Cossacks trotted bravely off the field, to
the cat-calls of the Austro-Bavarian troops, who witnessed this
shameful conduct. When General de Wrède went personally to make some
scathing observations, M. de Czernicheff replied that his regiment's
horses needed feeding and that he was taking them for this purpose to
nearby villages. This excuse was regarded as so ridiculous that for
some time afterwards the walls of German villages were decorated by
caricatures of M. de Czernicheff feeding his horses with bunches of
laurels gathered in the forest of Hanau.

Once across the Rhine, the soldiers who made up the remains of the
French army expected to see an end to their hardships as soon as
they set foot on the soil of their motherland; but they were much
mistaken, for the government, and the Emperor himself, had so much
counted on success, and had so little foreseen that we might leave
Germany, that nothing had been made ready at the frontier to receive
and re-organise the troops. So, from the very day of our arrival at
Mainz, the men and the horses would have gone short of food if we had
not spread them out and lodged them with the inhabitants of nearby
villages and hamlets. But they, since the first wars of the
revolution, had lost the habit of feeding soldiers, and complained
vociferously, and it is true that the expense was too great for the
communes.

As it was necessary to guard, or at least to watch over the
immensely long frontier formed by the Rhine from Basle to Holland, we
settled, as best we could, the numerous sick and wounded in the
hospitals of Mainz. All fit men rejoined the core of their regiments,
and the various units of the army, which for the most part consisted
only of a small cadre, were spread along the river. My regiment,
together with what was left of Sébastiani's cavalry corps, went down
the Rhine by short marches; but although the weather was perfect and
the countryside charming, we were all deeply unhappy, for one could
foresee that France was going to lose possession of this fine land,
and that her misfortunes would not stop there.

My regiment spent some time in Cleves, next a fortnight in
the little town of Urdingen, and then went on to Nimeguen. During
this sad journey we were painfully affected by the sight of the
inhabitants on the opposite bank, the Germans and the Dutch, tearing
down the French flag from their steeples and replacing it with the
flags of their former sovereigns. In spite of these gloomy
reflections, all the colonels tried to re-organise the few troops
which remained to them, but what could one do without clothing,
equipment or replacement of arms?...

The need to provide food for the army compelled the Emperor to
keep it dispersed, whereas to re-organise it would require the
creation of large centres of concentration. We were therefore in a
vicious circle. However, the allies, who should have crossed the
Rhine a few days after us, to prevent our re-organisation, felt
themselves still so weakened as a result of the hard blows we had
delivered during the last campaign, that they needed time to recover.

They left us in peace for the months of November and December, the
greater part of which I spent on the bank of the Rhine, in the ghost
of the army corps commanded by Marshal Macdonald.

I was eventually ordered, as were the other cavalry colonels, to
take all my dismounted men to my regimental depot for the task of
building up new squadrons. The depot of the 23rd was still at Mons,
in Belgium, and that is where I went. It was there that I saw the
end of the year 1813, so filled with great events and in which I had
had encountered many dangers and undergone so many trials.

Before I end my chronicle of the year, I ought to summarise
briefly the final events of the campaign of 1813.

Chap. 33.

The German fortresses in which the retreating French had left
garrisons were soon surrounded and in some cases besieged. Almost
all surrendered. Four only were still holding out at the end of
1813.

The first of these was Hamburg, commanded by the intrepid Marshal
Davout, who held on to this important fort until after the abdication
of the Emperor, when the French government recalled the garrison to
France; the second was Magdeburg, where General Le Marois, an
aide-de-camp to the Emperor, also held out until the end of the war;
the third was Wittemburg, defended by the elderly General Lapoype,
and which was taken by assault on the 12th of the following January;
and finally Erfurt, which had to capitulate for lack of food.

All the other fortresses beyond the Rhine, which the Emperor had
wanted to keep, the most important of which were Dresden, Danzig,
Stettin, Zamosk, Torgau and Modlin, were already in the hands of the
enemy.

The circumstances surrounding the taking over of the first two of
these fortresses do not reflect much honour on the allies. After the
battle of Leipzig, Napoleon withdrew with the remains of his army,
leaving at Dresden a corps of 25000 men commanded by Marshal
Saint-Cyr, who tried by force of arms to cut a passage through the
enemies who blocked his way. He drove them back several times, but
eventually overcome by stronger forces and short of food, he was
compelled to accept the honourable capitulation which was offered to
him. This stipulated that the garrison would keep its arms, would
not be made prisoners of war and would march back to France in
day-long stages.

The Marshal wanted his troops to move as a corps and to bivouac
all together at the same place, which would allow them to defend
themselves in case of treachery; but the enemy generals pointed out
that owing to the exhaustion of the countryside, it would be
impossible to provide at any one place twenty-five thousand rations,
and the French marshal had to accept this. He then agreed that his
force should be divided into several small columns of 2 or 3000 men
who would travel one or even two days apart.

For the first few days all went well, but as soon as the last
French column had left Dresden, having handed over the fort and the
munitions of war, the foreign generals announced that they did not
have the authority to sign the capitulation without the agreement of
their generalissimo, Prince Schwartzenberg, and as he did not
approve, the agreement was null and void. They offered to allow our
troops to return to Dresden in exactly the same state as they had
been previously, that is to say with only enough food for a few days,
a shortage which they had concealed from the enemy for as long as
they occupied the place, and which, as it was now known to them, made
the offer worthless.

Our troops were indignant at this odious lack of good faith, but
what action could be taken by isolated detachments of 2 or 3000 men,
whom the enemy had taken the precaution of surrounding by battalions
of their own, before they could hear of the breakdown of the
capitulation? Any resistance was impossible and our men were forced
to lay down their arms.

To the treachery practised on the field of battle, was now added
that of the breaking of agreements of capitulation. This did not
prevent the Germans from celebrating a victory, for they regarded any
measures, however despicable, as justified in order to defeat
Napoleon. This new morality was put into operation at Danzig.

General Rapp had defended this place for a long time, but having
run out of food, he was compelled to surrender on condition that the
garrison would be allowed to return to France. However, in spite of
a treaty signed by the Prince of Wurtemberg, the commander of the
army which conducted the siege, the conditions were violated and the
garrison of 16000 men were sent as prisoners to Russia where most of
them died.

One of the most remarkable stories of this siege concerns a
Captain de Chambure, who asked for and obtained permission to form an
independent company, chosen from hand-picked volunteers. They
engaged on the most daring ventures, going out at night and
surprising enemy posts, getting into their entrenchments, into their
camps, destroying their siege-works under the nose of their
batteries, spiking their guns and going far into the country to
capture or pillage their convoys. Chambure, having gone out one night
with his men, surprised a Russian cantonment, set fire to an
ammunition dump, destroyed several stores and killed or wounded one
hundred and fifty men, for the loss of three of his own; and returned
to the fort in triumph.

Now, however, let us return to examine the position of the French
armies in December 1813.

Spain, the principal cause of all the catastrophes which marked
the end of Napoleon's reign, had been stripped, in the course of the
year, of all its best troops, which the Emperor had sent to reinforce
the army in Germany. However, the effective strength of those who
remained in the Iberian peninsula amounted to more than 100,000 men. 
A number which, although inadequate, would have contained the enemy
if Napoleon had left the command to Marshal Soult. But as he most
earnestly wished to make of his brother Joseph a general who could
defend the kingdom which he had given him, it was to this prince, an
estimable man, but no soldier, that the Emperor entrusted the command
of the armies of Spain. He gave him, it is true, as chief of staff
and military advisor, Marshal Jourdan; but the Marshal was
prematurely aged and had not been involved in active warfare since
the first campaigns of the revolution; he was so worn out, both
mentally and physically, that he inspired no confidence in the
troops. So, in spite of the talents displayed by the generals who
served under the orders of King Joseph, the Anglo-Portuguese army
commanded by Lord Wellington and helped by Spanish guerrillas, caused
us irreparable losses.

The French, under pressure at every point, had already been
compelled to abandon Madrid, the two Castiles, and to recross the
Ebro, to concentrate their main forces round the town of Vittoria. 
Attacked in this position by three times their number, they lost a
battle; a loss which was made all the more disastrous by the fact
that King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan had made no arrangements for the
carrying out of a retreat, so that it became chaotic. The King's
suite, the artillery parks, the many coaches of a crowd of Spaniards,
who having taken sides with Joseph, sought to escape the vengence of
their compatriots, the wagons of the treasury, of the military
administration, etc., etc., all found themselves piled up in
confusion, so that the roads were obstructed and the regiments had
great difficulty in moving. However they did not lose their
formation, and in spite of vigorous attacks by the enemy, the greater
part of the army managed to reach Salvatierra and the road to
Pamplona, by which the retreat was made.

The battle of Vittoria demonstrated the talent and courage of
General Clausel, who rallied the army and gave it some direction. It
was, however, an unhappy day. The French lost 6000 men killed,
wounded or taken prisoner, and left in the hands of the enemy a large
part of their artillery and almost all their baggage.

Despite this set-back, the troops, whose morale was excellent, could
have remained in Navarre, with the aid of the fortress of Pamplona
and the Pyrenees mountains, but King Joseph ordered the continuation
of the retreat and the crossing of the Bidassoa, where our
rear-guard, commanded by General Foy, was ordered to blow up the
bridge. So, from the end of June, we abandoned that part of the
Spanish frontier; nevertheless, Marshal Suchet still held out in
Aragon (The region of Zaragossa. Ed.), and Catalonia, and in the
kingdom of Valencia; but the results of the battle of Vittoria had so
much weakened us that when Wellington sent reinforcements to central
Spain, Suchet found it necessary to leave the town and the kingdom.

These events were taking place at a time when Napoleon was still
triumphant in Germany. As soon as he was told of the state of
affairs across the Pyrenees, he hastily revoked the powers which he
had given to King Joseph and Marshal Jourden, and appointed Marshal
Soult commander of all the armies in Spain.

Soult, after re-organising the divisions, made a great effort to
help the French garrison left in Pamplona, but in vain; they were
forced to capitulate and Marshal Soult had to take his troops back
across the Bidassoa. The fortress of San-Sebastian, governed by
General Rey, held out for a long time; but was eventually taken by
assault by the Anglo-Portuguese, who, ignoring the laws of humanity,
robbed, raped and massacred the unfortunate inhabitants of this
Spanish town, although they were their allies! The English officers
made no attempt to stop these atrocities, which went on for three
days, to the shame of Wellington, his generals, and the English.

Marshal Soult defended the Pyrenees foot by foot, and beat
Wellington on several occasions; but the greater numbers at the
latter's disposal allowed him unceasingly to take the offensive, so
that he was able eventually to cross our frontier and set up his
headquarters in Saint-Jean de Luz, the first town in France, which
had never previously been lost, even during the defeats suffered by
Francis I, or the disastrous wars of the end of the reign of Louis
XIV.

It was evident that after the defection of the German troops at
Leipzig, Marshal Soult could not hope to keep in the army of the
Pyrenees several thousand soldiers from across the Rhine. They all
went over to the enemy in a single night, thus augmenting
Wellington's strength.

However, Marshal Soult, after concentrating several divisions
below the ramparts of Bayonne, once more attacked the
Anglo-Portuguese. On the 9th of December, at Saint-Pierre de Rube,
there was a battle which lasted for five days, and was one of the
bloodiest of the war, for it cost the enemy 16,000 lives and the
French 10,000, but we were able to remain in position around Bayonne.

Before these events in the Pyrenees, Marshal Suchet, having
learned of the reverses suffered by Napoleon in Germany, realised
that it would be impossible for him to remain in the middle of Spain,
and prepared to return to France. To do this he withdrew to
Tarragon, where after taking the garrison into his army he blew up
the ramparts. The retreat, although harried by the Spanish, was
carried out in good order, and by the end of December 1813, Suchet
and the troops under his command were established in Gerona.

To complete this examination of the position of the French armies
at the end of 1813, one needs to recall that in the spring of that
year, the Emperor, who distrusted Austria, had built up in the Tyrol
and in his kingdom of Italy, a large army, the command of which he
had given to his step-son Eugène de Beauharnais, the viceroy of the
country. This prince was a good man, very gentle and greatly devoted
to the Emperor, but although much more of a soldier than King Joseph
of Spain, he lacked many of the qualities required to lead an army. 
The Emperor's affection for Eugène led him astray in this matter.

It was on the 24th of August, the day when the armistice between
Napoleon and the allies was due to expire, that the Austrians
abandoned their neutrality and declared themselves our enemies. The
Italian troops continued to serve with us, but the Dalmatians
(Croats) left us to join the Austrians. Prince Eugène had under his
command a number of excellent lieutenants, but the fighting was never
very strenuous because the commanders on both sides realised that the
events in Germany would determine the outcome of the campaign. There
were however, a number of actions, with various results. In the end
the larger forces of the Austrians, who were shortly joined by an
English contingent which disembarked in Tuscany forced the viceroy to
lead the Franco-Italian army beyond the Adige.

In November came news of the defection of Murat, the King of
Naples. The Emperor, to whom he owed everything, could not at first
believe it. It was, however, only too true. Murat had joined forces
with the Austrians, against whom he had fought for so long, and his
troops already occupied Bologna. Such is the volatility of the
Italians that everywhere they welcomed with acclamation the
Austro-Neapolitans, whom they had previously detested, and whom they
would soon hate even more. By December, the vice-roi's army of only
43,000 men, occupied Verona and its surroundings.

The Emperor, seeing the whole of Europe combined against him,
could not fail to realise that the first condition which a peace
would demand of him would be the re-installment of the Bourbons on
the throne of Spain. He decided therefore to do of his own volition
what he would be forced to do later: he set free King Ferdinand, who
had been detained at Valancay, and ordered Suchet's army to retire
behind the Pyrenees.

Thus, at the end of 1813, we had lost all of Germany, all of
Spain, the greater part of Italy, and Wellington's army, which had
crossed the Bidassoa and the western Pyrenees, was encamped on French
soil and threatening Bayonne, Navarre, and Bordeaux.

Chap. 34.

I began the year 1814 at Mons. Where I did not undergo such
physical dangers as I had done in previous years, but where I
suffered much more mentally.

As I had left, at Nimeguen, all the troopers of my regiment who
still had horses, I had none at Mons, where the depot was situated,
except dismounted men, for whom I was trying to get horses from the
Ardennes, when events prevented this.

On the 1st of January, the enemies, after hesitating for three
months before invading France, crossed the Rhine at several points,
the two most important of these being firstly at Kaub, a market town
situated between Bingen and Coblentz, where a rocky gorge greatly
reduces the width of the river, and then at Basle where the Swiss
handed over the stone bridge, in violation of their neutrality, a
neutrality which they maintain or abandon according to their
interests.

It is estimated that some five to six hundred thousand allied
soldiers entered a France exhausted by twenty-five years of war, half
of whose troops were prisoners in foreign lands, and many of whose
provinces were ready to defect on the first suitable occasion,
amongst which was that containing the department of Jemmapes, of
which Mons was the principal town.

This huge area of rich country which had been annexed to France,
firstly "de facto" by the war of 1792, and then by right after the
treaty of Amiens, had been so accustomed to this union that after the
disasters of the Russian campaign, it had shown great enthusiasm and
made considerable sacrifices to help the Emperor to put his troops
back on a sound footing. Men, horses, equipment, clothing... it had
complied with all demands without a murmur! But the losses we had
suffered in Germany had discouraged the Belgians, and I found the
attitude of the populace had completely changed. They loudly
regretted the paternal government of the house of Austria, under
which they had lived for so long, and were most anxious to separate
themselves from France, whose continual wars were ruining their trade
and industry. In a word, Belgium awaited only a favourable moment to
revolt, an event which would be the more serious for us because, by
its geographical situation, the province was in the rear of the
weakened army corps which we still had on the Rhine. The Emperor
sent some troops to Brussels, whom he placed under the command of
General Maisons, a capable and very determined man. Maisons, having, visited several departments, recognised that Jemmapes, and particularly the town of Mons, was the most disaffected. There was there, open discussion of the possibility of taking up arms against the weak French garrison, something which its commander general "O"... could not have prevented, for the old general, stricken by gout, and lacking in energy, who had been born in Belgium, seemed afraid to earn the dislike of his compatriots.  General Maisons suspended him from duty and gave me the command of the department of Jemmapes.

My job was made more difficult because, after the inhabitants of
Liége, those who live in Borinage are the boldest and most turbulent
in all Belgium, and to control them I had only a small unit of 400
conscripts, a few gendarmes and 200 unmounted cavalrymen from my
regiment, among whom there were some fifty men who were born in the
area and who, in case of trouble, would join the insurgents. I could
rely entirely only on the other 150 Chasseurs, who born in France,
and having been in action with me, would have followed me anywhere.

There were some good officers; those in the infantry, and
in particular the battalion commander, were very willing to back me
up.

I could not, however, disguise the fact that if it came to blows,
the two sides were not equally matched. From the hotel where I stayed
I saw every day 3 or 4,000 peasants and workmen from the town,
armed with big sticks who gathered in the main square to listen to
speeches from former Austrian officers, all of them wealthy nobles,
who had quitted the service on the union of Belgium with France, and
now spoke out against the Empire which had loaded them with taxes,
taken their children to send them to the wars, etc.,etc. These
speeches were listened to with all the more attention, in that they
were delivered by great landed proprietors, and addressed to their
tenants and employees, over whom they wielded much influence.

Add to this that each day brought news of the advance of our
enemies, who were approaching Brussels, driving before them the
debris of Marshal Macdonald's Corps. All the French employees left
the department to take refuge in Valenciennes and Cambrai. Finally
the mayor of Mons, M. Duval of Beaulieu, an honourable man, thought it
his duty to warn me that neither my feeble garrison nor myself were
safe in the midst of an excited and numerous population, and that I
would be wise to leave the town, a move which would not be opposed
since my regiment and I had always lived at peace with the
inhabitants.

I was aware that this proposition came from a committee composed
of former Austrian officers, which had instructed the mayor to put it
to me, in the hope that I would be intimidated. I resolved then to
show my teeth, I said to M. Duval that I would be most grateful if he
would summon the town council and the leading citizens, and that I
would then give my reply to the proposals which he had brought me.

Half an hour later, all the garrison were armed, and when the
municipal council accompanied by the wealthiest citizens had
assembled in the square, I mounted on horseback, in order to be heard
by all, and after I had told the mayor that before talking with him
and his council, I had an important order to give to my troops, I
told my men about the suggestion which had been made that we should
abandon, without a struggle, the town which had been put in our care.

They were most indignant, and said so loudly! I added that I could
not conceal the fact that the ramparts were broken down at several
points, and a lack of artillery would make defence difficult against
regular troops, though if need be we would do our best; but that if
it was the inhabitants of the town and the countryside who rose
against us, we would not confine ourselves to defence, we would
attack with all the means at our disposal, for we would be dealing
with revolutionaries. As a consequence I was ordering my men to take
over the church tower, from where, after a delay of half an hour and
three rolls on the drums they would fire on the occupants of the
square, while patrols would clear the streets by shooting, mainly at
those who had left their work in the country to come and do us harm. 
I added that if it came to fighting, I would order, as the best means
of defence, the setting on fire of the town, in order to keep the
inhabitants busy, and I would shoot at them continually to prevent
its extinction.

This speech may seem a little drastic, but consider the critical
position in which I found myself; with no more than 700 men, few of
whom had seen action, no expectation of reinforcements, and
surrounded by a multitude which increased in size by the moment, for
the officer in charge of the detachment sent to the church tower told
me that the roads leading to the town were full of miners from the
pits of Jemmapes, heading for the town of Mons. My little troupe and
I were at risk of being wiped out if I had not taken decisive action.
My address had produced a marked effect among the rich noblemen, the
promoters of this disturbance, and also among the townspeople, who
began to disperse, but as the peasants did not budge, I brought up
two ammunition wagons to issue a hundred cartridges to each soldier,
and when they had loaded their weapons, I ordered the three rolls on
the drums, the prelude to the fusillade.

At this frightening sound, the huge crowd which filled the square
began to run in tumult to the neighbouring streets, where each one
rushed to find shelter, and a few moments later the leaders of the
Austrian party, with the mayor at their head, came to clutch at my
hand and beg me to spare the town. I agreed on the condition that
they would send immediately to tell the miners and workmen to go back
to their homes. They hastened to comply, and the elegant young men
who were the best mounted, jumped on their fine horses and went out
through all the city gates to meet the mob which they sent back to
their villages without any opposition.

This passive obedience confirmed me in my opinion that the
disturbance had powerful backers, and that my garrison and I would
have been held prisoner, had I not frightened the leaders by
threatening to use all means, even fire, rather than hand over to
rioters the town confided to my charge.

The Belgians are very fond of music, and it so happened that
there was a concert to be given that evening, to which I and my
officers had been invited, as was M. de Laussat, the prefect of the
department.

We agreed that we should go there as usual, which was the right
decision, for we were received with cordiality, at least on the
surface. While talking to the nobles, who had been behind the
disturbance, we put it to them that it was not for the populace to
decide by rebellion the fate of Belgium, but rather for the
contending armies; and it would be folly on their part to incite the
workmen and peasants to shed their blood, in order to hasten by a few
days a solution which would presently become evident.

An elderly Austrian general, who had retired to Mons, his
birthplace, then said to his compatriots that they had been wrong to
plot the seizure of the garrison, for that would have resulted in
much damage to the town, as no soldiers would lay down their arms
without a fight. They all agreed that this assessment was correct,
and from that day forward the garrison and the townsfolk lived
peacefully together as in the past. The people of Mons even gave us
a few days later a striking demonstration of their support.

As the allied armies advanced, a crowd of partisans, mainly
Prussians, disguised themselves as Cossacks, and driven by the desire
for plunder they grabbed anything which had belonged to the French
administration, and had no hesitation in seizing the goods of even
non-military French citizens.

A large band of these imitation Cossacks, having crossed the
Rhine and spread out on the left bank, had reached as far as the
gates of Brussels, and had pillaged the imperial château of
Tervueren, from where they took all the horses of the stud farm which
the Emperor had installed there; then, splitting into smaller groups,
these marauders infested Belgium. Some of them came to the
department of Jemmapes, where they tried to stir up the populace, but
when they did not succeed in doing so, they put this down to the fact
that Mons, the principal town of the region, had not supported them
because of the terror inspired by the colonel in command of the
garrison. Whereupon they decided to capture or kill me, but in order
not to awaken my suspicions by employing too great a number of men
for this exploit, they limited the number to three hundred. It
appeared that the leader of these partisans had been well briefed,
for, knowing that I had too few men to guard the old gates and
ancient, partly demolished, ramparts, he took his men, during a dark
night, to the rampart, where the major part of them dismounted and
made their way silently through the streets to the main square and
the Hotel de la Poste, where I had at first stayed. However, since I
had heard of the crossing of the Rhine by the enemy, I had gone
every evening to the barracks, where I spent the night surrounded by
my troops. It was as well that I had done so, for the German
Cossacks surrounded the hotel and rifled through all the rooms. Then,
furious at not finding any French officers, they set on the
inn-keeper, whom they robbed and maltreated, and whose wine they
drank until both officers and soldiers were drunk.

A Belgian, a former corporal in my regiment, named Courtois, for
whom I had obtained a decoration as one of my bravest soldiers,
arrived at this moment at the hotel. This man, born at
Saint-Ghislain near Mons, had lost a leg in Russia the previous
year, and happily I had been able to save him by securing means for
him to return to France. He was so grateful for this that during my
stay in Mons in the winter of 1814, he came often to visit me, and on
those occasions he dressed in the uniform of the 23rd Chasseurs which
he had once so honourably worn. Now, it so happened that on the
night in question, Curtois, while returning to the house of one of
his relatives where he had been staying, saw the enemy detachment
heading in the direction of the hotel, and although the gallant
corporal knew that I did not sleep there, he wanted to be sure that
his colonel was in no danger, so he went to the hotel, taking with
him his relative.

At the sight of the French uniform and the Legion of Honour, the
Prussians shamefully grabbed the crippled man and tried to snatch the
cross of the Legion from him. When he resisted, the Prussian
Cossacks killed him and dragged his body into the street before
continuing their drinking.

Mons was so large in comparison to my small garrison, that I had
taken refuge in the barracks, and having arranged my defences for the
night at this spot, I had forbidden my men to go near the main
square, although I had been told that the enemy were there, because I
did not know their strength and feared that the local populace would
combine with them. But when the townspeople heard of the murder of
Courtois, their fellow countryman and one regarded with affection by
all, they resolved to be revenged, and forgetting their complaints
against the French, they sent a deputation, comprising the brother of
the dead man and some of the leading citizens, to ask me to put
myself at their head in order to drive away these "Cossacks."

I was well aware that the pillage and excess at the Hotel de La
Poste inspired in every bourgeois fear for his family and his house,
which motivated them to expel the Cossacks as much as the death of
Curtois, and that they would have acted very differently if, instead
of robbers and assassins, it had been regular troops who had entered
the town; nonetheless I thought it my duty to take advantage of the
good-will of those inhabitants who were prepared to take up arms to
help us. I then took part of my troop and set off for the square,
while the remainder, in charge of the battalion commander, who knew
the town well, I sent to lie in wait at the breach in the wall
through which the Prussian Cossacks had entered.

At the first shots fired by our people at these rogues, there was
a great tumult in the hotel and the square! Those who were not killed
took to their heels, but many got lost in the streets and were
finished off one by one. As for those who reached the place
where they had left their horses tied up to trees in the promenade,
they ran into the battalion commander, who greeted them with a
withering fusillade! At daylight we counted in the town and in the
old breach more than 200 dead, while we had not lost a single man
because our adversaries, fuddled by wine and strong liquor, had
offered no defence. Those of them who escaped into the country were
caught and killed by the peasantry, who were enraged at the death of
the unfortunate Curtois, who was something of a local celebrity, and
who, given the name of "Jambe de bois", had become as dear to them as
General Daumesnil, another "Jambe de bois," was to the working class
of Paris.

I do not cite this fighting in Mons as something to be
particularly proud of, for with the national guard, I had twelve or
thirteen hundred men compared to the three hundred of the Prussians.
But I thought it worth recording this bizarre encounter to
demonstrate the volatility of the masses, which is shown by the fact
that all the peasants and coal miners of Borinage, who a month
previously had come in a mass to exterminate or at least disarm the
few Frenchmen remaining in Mons, had come to join us to oppose the
Prussians because they had killed one of their compatriots. I
greatly regretted the death of the brave Courtois, who had fallen
victim to his regard for me.

The most important trophy from our victory was the three hundred
horses which the enemy abandoned. They nearly all came from the
region of Berg and were of very good quality, so I took them into my
regiment, for which this unexpected provision of remounts was
extremely welcome.

I passed a further month at Mons, whose inhabitants treated us
perfectly well despite the approach of the enemy armies. However
their continued advance meant that the French were forced not only to
abandon Brussels but the whole of Belgium, and recross the frontiers
into their motherland. I was ordered to take my regimental depot to
Cambrai where, with the horses which I had taken from the Prussian
Cossacks, I was able to remount 300 good troopers who had returned
from Leipzig, and make two fine squadrons, which commanded by Major
Sigaldi, were sent to the army which the Emperor was assembling in
Champagne. There they upheld the honour of the 23rd chasseuers,
particularly at the battle of Champaubert, where the gallant Captain
Duplessis, an outstanding officer, was killed.

I have always favoured the lance, a lethal weapon in the hands of
a good cavalryman. I asked for and obtained permission to distribute
to my squadrons some lances which artillery officers had been unable
to carry away when they left the forts on the Rhine. They were so
much appreciated that several other cavalry units followed my
example, and were glad to have done so.

The regimental depots were obliged to cross to the left bank of
the Seine to avoid falling into the hands of the enemy; mine went to
Nogent-le-Roi, an arrondissment of Dreux. We had a fair number of
troopers but almost no horses. The government was making great
efforts to collect some at Versailles, where it had created a central
cavalry depot commanded by General Préval.

The General, like his predecessor General Bourcier, knew much more
about remounts and organisation than he did about war, in which he
had rarely been involved. He did his utmost to fulfil the difficult
task which the Emperor had given him; but as he could not, however,
improvise horses or equipment, and as he would not send out
detachments until they were fully organised, departures were not very
frequent. I grumbled, but no colonel could return to his unit
without the permission of the Emperor, who, to conserve his
resources, had forbidden the employment of more officers in any
unit than was justified by the number of men they had to command. 
It was therefore useless for me to beg General Préval to let me go to
Champagne. He fixed my departure for the end of March, at which time
I would lead to the army a draft composed of mounted men from my own
depot and several others.

Until this time I was authorised to live in Paris with my family,
for M. Caseneuve, my second-in-command, could take care of the 200 men
who were still at Nogent-le-Roi, which I could reach, if necessary,
in a few hours. So I went to Paris, where I spent the greater part
of March, which, although I was with those I loved most, was one of
the most miserable months of my life. The imperial government, to
which I was attached, and which I had for so long defended at the
cost of my blood, was everywhere crumbling. The armies of the enemy,
spreading from Lyon, occupied a large part of France, and it was easy
to see that they would soon arrive at the capital.

Chap. 35.

The Emperor's greatest antagonists are forced to admit that he
excelled himself in the winter campaign which he conducted in the
first three months of 1814. No previous general had ever shown such
talent, or achieved so much with such feeble resources. With a few
thousand men, most of whom were inexperienced conscripts, one saw him
face the armies of Europe, turning up everywhere with these troops,
which he led from one point to another with marvellous rapidity.

Taking advantage of all the resources of the country in order to
defend it, he hurried from the Austrians to the Russians, and from
the Russians to the Prussians, going from Blücher to Schwarzenberg
and from him to Sacken, sometimes beaten by them, but much more often
the victor. He hoped, for a time, that he might drive the
foreigners, disheartened by frequent defeats, from French soil and
back across the Rhine. All that was required was a new effort by the
nation; but there was general war-weariness, and there was in all
parts, and particularly in Paris, plotting against the Empire.

There are those who have expressed surprise that France did not
rise in mass, as in 1792, to repel the invader, or did not follow the
Spanish in forming, in each province, a centre of national defence.

The reason is that the enthusiasm which had improvised the armies
of 1792 had been exhausted by twenty-five years of war, and the
Emperor's over-use of conscription, so that in most of the
departments there remained only old men and children. As for the
example of Spain, it is not applicable to France, where too much
influence has been allowed to Paris, so that nothing can be done
unless Paris leads the way, whereas in Spain each Province was a
little government and was able to create its own army, even when
Madrid was occupied by the French. It was centralisation which led to
the loss of France.

It is no part of the task which I have set myself, to relate the
great feats performed by the French army during the campaign of 1814,
to do so I would have to write volumes, and I do not feel inclined to
dwell on the misfortunes of my country. I shall content myself by
saying that after disputing, foot by foot, the territory between the
Marne, the Aube, the Saône, and the Seine, the Emperor conceived a
daring plan which, if it had succeeded, would have saved France. 
This was to go, with his troops, by way of Saint-Dizier and Vitry
towards Alsace and Lorraine, which, by threatening the rear of the
enemies, would make them fear being cut off from their depots and
finding themselves without any route of retreat. This would decide
them to withdraw to the frontier while they still had the
opportunity.

However, to ensure the success of this splendid strategic
movement, it required the fulfilment of two conditions which failed
him; these were: the loyalty of the high officers of state, and some
means of preventing the enemy from seizing Paris, if they ignored the
movement of the Emperor towards their rear and launched an attack on
the city.

Sadly, loyalty to the Emperor was so much diminished in the Senate
and the legislative body, that there were leading members of these
assemblies, such as Tallyrand, the Duc de Dalberg, Laisné and others,
who through secret emissaries informed the allied sovereigns of the
dissatisfaction among the upper-class Parisians with Napoleon, and
invited them to come and attack the capital.

As for defences, it must be admitted that Napoleon had not given
this sufficient thought, and they were limited to the erection of a
spiked palisade at the gates on the right bank, without the provision
of any positions for guns. As the garrison, formed by a very small
number of troops of the line, of invalids, veterans, and students from
the polytechnic, was insufficient to even attempt resistance, the
Emperor, when he left the capital in January to go and head the
troops assembled in Champagne, confided to the National Guard the
defence of Paris, where he left the Empress and his son. He had
called together at the Tuileries the officers of this bourgeois
militia, who had responded with numerous vows and bellicose
undertakings to the rousing speech which he addressed to them. The
Emperor named the Empress as Regent and appointed as overall
commander his brother Joseph, the ex-King of Spain, the pleasantest
but most unsoldierlike of men.

Napoleon, under the illusion that he had thus provided for the
safety of the capital, thought that he could leave it for some days
to its own devices, while he went with those troops which still
remained to him to carry out the project of getting behind the
enemy. He left for Lorraine about the end of March, but he had been
on his way for only a few days, when he learned that the allies,
instead of following him as he had hoped, had headed for Paris,
driving before then the weak debris of Mortier's and Marmont's corps
who, positioned on the heights of Montmartre, attempted to defend the
city without any help from the National Guard except an occasional
infantryman.

This alarming news opened Napoleon's eyes; he turned his troops to
march towards Paris, for where he set out immediately.

On the 30th of March, the Emperor, riding post and with no escort,
had just passed Moret when a brisk cannonade was heard; he held on to
the hope of arriving before the allies entered the capital, where his
presence would certainly have had a remarkable effect on the
population, who were demanding arms. (There were one hundred
thousand muskets and several million cartridges in the barracks of
the Champ de Mars, but General Clarke, the Minister for War, would not
allow their distribution.)

On his arrival at Fromenteau, only five leagues from Paris, the
Emperor could no longer hear gunfire and he realised that the city
was in the hands of the allies, which was confirmed at Villejuif. 
Marmont had, in fact, signed a capitulation which delivered the
capital to the enemy.

As danger approached, the Empress and her son, the King of Rome,
had gone to Blois, where they were shortly joined by King Joseph, who
abandoned the command which the Emperor had given him. The troops of
the line left by the Fontainebleau gate, a route by which the Emperor
was expected to arrive.

It is not possible to describe the agitation which seized the
city whose inhabitants, divided by so many different interests, had
been surprised by an invasion which few of them had foreseen... As
for me, who had expected it, and who had seen at close quarters the
horrors of war, I was most anxiously thinking of a way to ensure the
safety of my wife and our young child, when the elderly Marshal
Sérurier offered a shelter for all my family at Les Invalides, of
which he was the governor. I was comforted by the thought that as
everywhere the homes for old soldiers had always been respected by
the French, the enemy would act in the same way towards ours. I
therefore took my family to the Invalides and left Paris, before the
entry of the allies, to report to General Préval at Versailles. I was
given command of a small column made up of available cavalrymen from
my own regiment and from the 9th and 12th Chasseurs.

Even if the allies had not marched on Paris, this column was due
to be assembled at Rambouillet, and it is to there that I went. I
found there my horses and my equipment, and I took command of the
squadrons which had been allotted to me. The road was full of the
carriages of those who were flying from the capital. I was not
surprised by that; but I was unable to understand where the great
number of troops of all arms came from, which one saw arriving from
all directions in detachments, which if they had been combined would
have formed a corps of sufficient size to hold up the enemy at
Montmartre, and allow time for the army which was hurrying from
Champagne and Brie to arrive and save Paris. The Emperor, misled by
his Minister for War, had given no instructions regarding the matter,
and was probably unaware that he still had so great a capacity for
defence at his disposal, a description of which follows, taken from
Ministry of War documents.

There were at Vincennes, the military school of the Champ de Mars,
and the central artillery depot, some four hundred cannons with
ammunition and 50,000 muskets. As for men, there were the troops
brought by Marshals Marmont and Mortier, which together with troops
gathered from other sources including 20,000 workmen, nearly all of
them old soldiers, who had volunteered to help defend the city,
amounted to some 80,000.

It would have been possible for Joseph and Clarke to assemble this
force in a few hours and to defend the city until the arrival of the
Emperor and the army which was following him.

Joseph and Clarke had forty-eight hours warning of the enemy
approach, but did nothing, and as a final act of incompetence, at the
moment when the enemy troops were attacking Romainville, they sent
4000 men of the Imperial Guard to Blois, to reinforce the escort of
the Empress, which was already quite big enough.

When the Emperor learned that Paris had capitulated and that the two
small corps of Marmont and Mortier had left, and were retiring
towards him, he sent them orders to take up positions at Essonnes,
seven leagues from Paris and mid-way between that city and
Fontainebleau. He went himself to this last town, where were arriving
the heads of the columns coming from Saint-Dizier, an indication that
he intended to march on Paris as soon as his army was gathered
together.

The enemy generals have later stated that if they had been
attacked by the Emperor, they would not have risked a battle, with
the Seine behind them and also the great city of Paris, with its
million inhabitants, which might rise in revolt at any moment during
the fighting and barricade the streets and the bridges, thus cutting
off their line of retreat. So they had decided to draw back and camp
on the heights of Belleville, Charonne, Montmartre, and the slopes of
Chaumont, which dominate the right bank of the Seine and the route to
Germany, when new events in Paris kept them in the city.

M. de Tallyrand, a former bishop now married, who had always appeared
to be devoted to the Emperor, by whom he had been loaded with riches
and made prince of Benevento, Grand Chamberlain, etc., etc., felt his
pride injured when he was no longer Napoleon's confidant, and the
minister directing his policy. So, after the disasters of the
Russian campaign, he had put himself at the head of an underground
conspiracy, which included all the malcontents from every party, but
mainly the Faubourg Saint-Germain, that is to say the high
aristocracy, who, after appearing at first submissive and even
serving Napoleon in the time of his prosperity, had become his enemy,
and without openly compromising themselves, attacked, by all means,
the head of government.

These people, guided by Tallyrand, the most cunning and scheming
of them all, had been waiting for an occasion to overthrow Napoleon. 
They realised that they would never have a more favourable
opportunity than that offered by the occupation of the country by a
million and a half enemies, and the presence in Paris of all the
crowned heads of Europe, most of whom had been grossly humiliated by
Napoleon at one time or another. Napoleon, however, though greatly
weakened, was not yet entirely beaten, for, apart from the army which
he had with him, and with which he had performed prodigies, there was
Suchet's army, between the Pyrenees and the Haute-Garonne, there were
troops commanded by Marshal Soult, there were two fine divisions at
Lyon, and finally, the army in Italy was still formidable, so that in
spite of the occupation of Bordeaux by the English, Napoleon might
still assemble considerable forces and prolong the war indefinitely,
by raising a population, exasperated by the exactions of the enemy.

Tallyrand, for his part, realised that if they gave the Emperor
time to bring to Paris the troops who were with him, he might beat
the allies in the streets of the capital, or withdraw to some loyal
provinces, where he might continue the war, until the allies were
exhausted and ready to make peace. In the view of Tallyrand and his
friends, it was therefore necessary to change the government. Here
there arose a great difficulty, for they wanted to restore the
Bourbons to the throne, in the person of Louis XVIII, while other
parts of the country wanted to retain Napoleon, or at most to install
his son.

The same difference of opinion existed amongst the allied
sovereigns. The kings of England and Prussia were on the side of the
Bourbons, while the emperor of Russia, who had never liked them, and
who feared that the antipathy felt by the French nation towards these
princes and the émigrés would lead to a fresh revolution, was
inclined to favour Napoleon's son.

To cut short these discussions, and decide the question by making
the first move, the astute Tallyrand, in an attempt to force the hand
of the foreign sovereigns, arranged for a group of about twenty young
men from the Faubourg Saint-Germain to appear on horseback in Louis
XV square, decked with white cockades, and led by Vicomte Talon, my
former comrade in arms, from whom I have these details. They went
towards the mansion in the rue Saint-Florentin occupied by the
Emperor Alexander, shouting at the top of their voices "Long live
King Louis XVIII! Long live the Bourbons! Down with the tyrant!"

The effect produced on the curious gathering of onlookers by these
cries, was at first one of astonishment, which was quickly succeeded
by threats and menaces from the crowd, which shook even the boldest
of the cavalcade. This first royalist demonstration having been
unsuccessful, they repeated the performance at various points on the
boulevards. At some places they were booed, at others applauded. As
the entry procession of the allied sovereigns approached, and as the
Parisians need a slogan to animate them, the one produced by Vicomte
Talon and his friends rang in the ears of the Emperor Alexander 
throughout the whole day, which permitted Tallyrand to say to that
monarch in the evening, "Your Majesty can judge for himself with what
unanimity the nation desires the restoration of the Bourbons!"

From that moment, although his supporters greatly outnumbered
those of Louis XVIII, as the events of the following year would show,
Napoleon's cause was lost.

End of Volume 2, The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot.
Translated by Oliver.C.Colt

End of the Project Gutenberg etext of The Memoirs of the General the Baron de Marbot, translated by Oliver.C.Colt.