# Napoleon (O'Connor 1896)/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V.
NAPOLEON, AS HE APPEARED TO A SOLDIER.
Let us now see how Napoleon impressed a mere soldier—Marbot. He saw Napoleon Bonaparte in the midst of his greatest battles, at almost the most critical moments of his career, and was brought into the closest and most intimate contact with him. There are abundant stories of Napoleon throughout his volumes, and Baron Marbot can tell a story often with a great deal of point. And yet the impression of Napoleon is a blurred one. Did you ever read the description of Scobeleff after the failure of the great assault on Plevna, which was written by MacGahan—that brilliant journalist whom cruel death untimely destroyed? I recall the passage from memory after some fifteen years; I can still remember that terrible portrait of war, with Scobeleff, his face stained with blood and powder, his sword twisted, des​peration and fury in his bloodshot eyes; and then later on Scobeleff washed, scented, dressed like a dandy; and then a third picture—Scobeleff waking up in his sleep to weep bitter tears over the deaths of the brave fellows he had led in thousands to destruction. There was a picture that stands out in the memory for ever, and that reveals war in a flash, as a black sky shows its battlements and turrets, its banks and seas of cloud when lightning bursts forth and opens up its darkness. There is no such passage in all Marbot. There are scenes, some of them very vividly described; and there are plenty of good stories; but somehow or other inspiration is wanting, and you do not feel that you have got inside Napoleon one bit more than you have done before. And yet I can understand the extraordinary popularity which the book has attained. If Marbot fails with Napoleon, he is more successful with his marshals, and you get some very clear and correct notions of what some of them were like.
The book, too, is wonderfully effective as a description of what war is like in the details as distinguished from general results and plans. The author is so candid and so simple that you are able to live his life with him from day to day. He is distinctly egotistic, though there is an utter absence of braggadocio; and he is utterly frank in taking more interest in his own affairs and adventures than in anything or anybody else. The ​result is that you often, through this description of individual experiences, get an extraordinarily clear idea of a movement, a great episode, or a decisive battle. I share also in the pleasant impression the book has universally made as to the personality of the author. His honesty, bravery, and good faith shine out in every page of the book: and it can be easily understood why Marbot—though he served under the Bourbons—was dear enough to Napoleon to be especially mentioned in his last will, and to get a small legacy all to himself.
I.
GLIMPSES OF THE TERROR.
I do not purpose to devote much of my space to the author. His career has an interest of its own; but the chief interest of the book is his descriptions of the men bigger than himself with whom he was brought in contact. Suffice it to say that he was the son of a distinguished French general. He was born in 1782, and in his childhood he had an opportunity of getting some glimpses of the Reign of Terror under the men of the Convention. In 1793, when eleven years of age, he and his father made a stoppage at Cressensac on their way to Toulouse. He goes on to say:
"While we were halting here I saw a sight that I had never seen before. A marching column of gendarmes, National Guards, and volunteers entered ​the little town, their band playing. I thought it grand, but could not understand why they should have in the middle of them a dozen carriages full of old gentlemen, ladies, and children, all looking very sad. My father was furious at the sight. He drew back from the window, and as he strode up and down the room with his aide-de-camp I heard him exclaim: 'Those scoundrels of the Convention have spoilt the Revolution, which might have been so splendid! There is another batch of innocent people being taken off to prison because they are of good family, or have relations who have gone abroad! It is terrible!' I understood him perfectly, and like him, I vowed hatred to the party of terror who spoilt the Revolution of 1789. I may be asked, why, then, did my father continue to serve a Government for which he had no esteem? Because he held that to repel the enemy from French territory was under all circumstances honourable, and in no way pledged a soldier to approval of the atrocities committed by the Convention in its internal administration.
"What my father had said awakened my lively interest in the persons whom the carriages contained. I found out that they were noble families who had been that morning arrested in their houses, and were being carried to prison at Souilhac. I was wondering how these old men, women, and children, could be dangerous to the country, when I heard one of the children ask for food. A lady ​begged a National Guard to let her get out to buy provisions; he refused harshly. The lady then held out an assignat, and asked him to be so kind as to get her a loaf; to which he replied: 'Do you think I am one of your old lackeys?' His brutality disgusted me; and having noticed that our servant Spire had placed in the pockets of the carriage sundry rolls, each lined with a sausage, I took two of them, and approaching the carriage where the children were, I threw these in when the guard's back was turned. Mother and children made such expressive signs of gratitude that I decided to victual all the prisoners, and accordingly took them all the stores that Spire had packed for the nourishment of four persons during the forty-eight hours which it would take us to reach Toulouse. We started without any suspicion on his part of the way in which I had disposed of them. The children kissed their hands to me, the parents bowed, and we set off. We had not gone a hundred yards, when my father, who, in his haste to escape from a sight which distressed him, had not taken a meal at the inn, felt hungry and asked for the provisions. Spire mentioned the pockets in which he had placed them. My father and M. Gault rummaged the whole carriage, and found nothing. My father pitched into Spire; Spire from the coach-box swore by all the fiends that he had victualled the carriage for two days. I was rather in a quandary; however, not liking to let ​poor Spire be scolded any more, I confessed what I had done, fully expecting a slight reproof for having acted on my own authority. But my father only kissed me, and long afterwards he used to delight to speak of my conduct on that occasion."
II.
THE REVOLUTION IN THE SCHOOL.
Young Marbot was sent to school at the College of Sorèze. It was a military school taught by Benedictine monks. Owing to the popularity of the Benedictines and the prudence of Dom Ferlus, the principal, the school was spared by the revolutionaries. And now, here is an interesting glimpse of what a school was like in the days when the Republic reigned:
"The monks wore lay clothes, and were addressed as 'citizen'; but otherwise no change of any importance had taken place in the routine of the school. Of course it could not but show some traces of the feverish agitation which prevailed outside. The walls were covered with Republican 'texts.' We were forbidden to use the term 'monsieur.' When we went to the refectory, or for a walk, we sang the 'Marseillaise,' or other Republican hymns. The exploits of our armies formed the chief subject of conversation; and some of the elder boys enrolled themselves among the volunteers. We learnt drill, riding, fortifica​tion, etc. This military atmosphere tended to make the manners of the pupils somewhat free-and-easy; and as for dress, thick boots, only cleaned on the tenth day, gray socks, brown coat and trousers, shirts tattered and ink-stained, no necktie or cap, untidy hair, hands worthy of a charcoal-burner, gave them a rough appearance enough. . . . As I have said, when I entered the college at the end of 1793, the sanguinary rule of the Convention was at its heaviest. Commissioners were travelling the provinces, and nearly all those who had any influence in the South came to visit the establishment of Sorèze. Citizen Ferlus had a knack of his own for persuading them that it was their duty to support an institution which was training, in great numbers, young people who were the hope of the country. Thus he got all that he wanted out of them. Very often they allowed him to have large quantities of faggots which were destined for the supply of the armies, on the plea that we formed part of the army, and were its nursery.
"When these representatives arrived they were received like Sovereigns; the pupils put on their military uniforms; the battalion was drilled in their presence; sentries were placed at every door, as in a garrison town; we acted pieces inspired by the purest patriotism; we sang national hymns. When they inspected the classes, especially the history classes, an oppor​tunity was always found of introducing some dissertation on the excellence of Republican government, and the patriotic virtues which result from it. I remember in this connection that the Deputy Chabot, who had been a Capuchin, was questioning me one day on Roman history. He asked me what I thought of Coriolanus, who, when his fellow-citizens, forgetful of his old services, had offended him, took refuge with the Volsci, the Romans' sworn enemies. Dom Ferlus and the masters were in terror lest I should approve the Roman's conduct; but I said that a good citizen should never bear arms against his country, nor dream of revenging himself on her, however just grounds he might have for discontent. The representative was so pleased with my answer that he embraced me, and complimented the head of the college and his assistants on the good principles which they instilled into their pupils."
III.
FIRST SIGHT OF NAPOLEON.
Marbot was destined to make the acquaintance at an early age of the mighty genius who was to model his whole career and to shape the history of all mankind. His father received a command in Italy, and on his way there stopped at Lyons. He was surprised to find the city en fête, and was ​informed that Napoleon had arrived. Napoleon was supposed, at the time, to be in Egypt; as a matter of fact he was rushing to Paris in response to a summons from the Abbé Sieyès. The sights and scenes which he beheld at this period produced a lasting effect on Marbot, as they did on the mind of Daniel O'Connell, and made Marbot—as they made O'Connell—a confirmed enemy of revolutionary government. Marbot's description will, perhaps, enable one, even in the present day, to understand the sickness, the revolt, and the reaction which destroyed the Republic, and brought Napoleon and the Empire. The scene, which I am about to quote, is exquisite. It shows the father of Marbot meeting the man who was then but a brother-officer with that mixture of courtesy and distrust in which men all treat each other when from equality, the one is just rising to the higher position:
"The houses were all illuminated and beflagged; fireworks were being let off; our carriage could hardly make its way through the crowd. People were dancing in the open spaces, and the air rang with cries of 'Hurrah for Bonaparte! he will save the country!' This evidence was irresistible; we had to admit that Bonaparte was in Lyons. My father said, 'Of course I thought they would bring him, but I never suspected it would be so soon; they have played their game well. We shall see great events come to pass. ​Now I am sure that I was right in getting away from Paris; with the army I shall be able to serve my country without being mixed up in a coup d'état. It may be as necessary as it seems, but I dislike it altogether.' With that he fell into deep thought, lasting through the tedious interval required to make our way through the crowd, which grew thicker at every step, and reach our hotel.
"Arrived there, we found it hung with lanterns and guarded by a battalion of grenadiers. They had given General Bonaparte the apartments ordered a week before for my father. Quick-tempered though he was, he said nothing, and when the landlord made somewhat confused apologies to the effect that he had been compelled to obey the orders of the Town Council, my father made no answer. On hearing that a lodging had been taken for us in a good hotel of the second class kept by a relation of the landlord's, my father confined himself to bidding M. Gault order the postilions to drive there. When we got there we found our courier; he was an excitable man, and being well-warmed by the numerous drams which he had taken at every halting-place on his long journey, had kicked up the devil's own row on learning, when he preceded us at the first hotel, that the apartments engaged for his master, had been given to General Bonaparte. The aides-de-camp, hearing this fearful uproar and ​learning the cause of it, went to let their chief know that General Marbot had been thrown over for him. At the same moment Bonaparte himself, through the open window, perceived my father's two carriages standing before the door. Up to then he had known nothing of his landlord's shabby behaviour towards my father, and seeing that General Marbot, recently Commandant of Paris, and at that moment at the head of a division of the army in Italy, was too important a man for any off-hand treatment, and that, more-over, he himself was returning with the intention of being on a good footing with everybody, he ordered one of his officers to go down at once and offer General Marbot to come and share his lodging with him in soldier fashion. But the carriages went on before the aide-de-camp could speak to my father; so Bonaparte started at once on foot in order to come and express his regret in person. The cheers of the crowd which followed him as he drew near our hotel might have given us notice, but we had heard so much cheering since we entered the town that it occurred to none of us to look out into the street. We were all in the sitting-room, and my father was pacing up and down plunged in meditation, when suddenly a waiter, throwing open both folding-doors, announced General Bonaparte.
"On entering he ran up to my father and embraced him; my father received him courteously ​but coldly. They were old acquaintances, and between persons of their rank a few words were sufficient to explain matters with regard to the lodging. They had much else to talk of, so they went alone into the bedroom, where they conferred together for more than an hour.
"General Bonaparte and my father returned into the sitting-room, and introduced to each other the members of their respective staffs. Lannes and Murat were old acquaintances of my father's, and he received them very cordially. He was somewhat cold towards Berthier, whom he had seen in old days at Marseilles when he was in the body-guard and Berthier an engineer. General Bonaparte asked me very courteously for news of my mother, and complimented me in a kind manner on having taken up the military career so young. Then gently pinching my ear―the flattering caress which he always employed with persons with whom he was pleased―he said, addressing my father: 'He will be a second General Marbot some day.' His forecast has been verified, though at that time I had little hope of it. All the same, his words made me feel proud all over―it doesn't take much to awaken the pride of a child.
"The visit came to an end, and my father gave no indication of what had passed between General Bonaparte and himself; but I learnt ​later on that Bonaparte, without actually betraying his schemes, had endeavoured by the most adroit cajoleries to enlist my father on his side. My father, however, steadily evaded the question.
"So shocked was he at the sight of the people of Lyons running to meet Bonaparte, as if he were already Sovereign of France, that he expressed a wish to get away next morning at daybreak; but his carriages required repair, and he was forced to stay an entire day at Lyons. I took the opportunity of getting a new forage cap made, and in my delight at this purchase I paid no sort of heed to the political conversation which I heard all about me, nor, to tell the truth, did I understand much of it. My father went to return General Bonaparte's visit. They walked for a long time alone in the little garden of the hotel, while their staffs kept at a respectful distance. We saw them at one time vigorously gesticulating, at another talking more calmly; presently Bonaparte, coming close to my father with a coaxing air, took his arm in a friendly fashion. His motive probably was that the authorities, who were in the courtyard, and the many curious spectators who were crowding the neighbouring windows, might say that General Marbot assented to General Bonaparte's plans. For this clever man never overlooked any means of reaching his end; ​some people he gained, and wished to have it believed that he had also won to his side those whose sense of duty led them to resist him. Herein his success was wonderful.
"My father came out from this second conversation even more thoughtful than from the first, and on entering the hotel he gave orders that we should proceed on the following day. But General Bonaparte was going to make a visit of inspection of the points in the neighbourhood of the town suitable for fortification, and all the post-horses had been engaged for him. For the moment I thought that my father would be angry, but he confined himself to saying: 'There's the beginning of omnipotence.'"
IV.
NAPOLEON OFTEN DECEIVED.
The next passage I will quote will show how attentive Napoleon was to details, and yet how, in spite of all his precautions, he was deceived. The very terror which he inspired was often the cause of his being kept in ignorance:
"The Emperor used as a rule to treat his officers with kindness, but there was one point on which he was, perhaps, over severe. He held the colonels responsible for maintaining a full complement of men in the ranks of their regiments, and as that is precisely what is most ​difficult to achieve on a campaign, it was just on this point that the Emperor was most often deceived. The corps commanders were so afraid of displeasing him, that they exposed themselves to the risk of being set to fight a number of enemies out of proportion to the strength of their troops, rather than admit that illness, fatigue, and the necessity of procuring food had compelled many of the soldiers to fall to the rear. Thus Napoleon, for all his power, never knew accurately the number of combatants which he had at his disposal on the day of battle. Now it befell that, while we were staying at Brunn, the Emperor, on one of the rounds which he was incessantly making to visit the positions of the different divisions, noticed the mounted chasseurs of his guard marching to take up new lines. He was particularly fond of this regiment, the nucleus of which was formed by his Guides of Italy and Egypt. His trained eye could judge very correctly the strength of a column, and finding this one very short of its number, he took a little note-book from his pocket, and, after consulting it, sent for General Morland, colonel of the mounted chasseurs of the guard, and said to him in a severe tone: 'The strength of your regiment is entered on my notes at twelve hundred combatants, and although you have not yet been engaged with the enemy, you have not more than eight hundred ​troopers there. What has become of the rest?' General Morland, at fighting an excellent and very brave officer, but not gifted with the faculty of ready reply, was taken aback, and answered, in his Alsatian French, that only a very small number of men were missing. The Emperor maintained that there were close upon four hundred short, and to clear the matter up he determined to have them counted on the spot; but knowing that Morland was much liked by his staff, and being afraid of what their good nature might do, he thought that it would be safer if he took an officer who belonged neither to his household nor to the guard, and, catching sight of me, he ordered me to count the chasseurs, and to come and report their number to him in person. Having said this, he galloped off. I began my operation, which was all the more easy that the troopers were marching at a walk and in fours."
It is a proof of the wonderful accuracy of Napoleon's eye that his estimate on this occasion turned out to be correct almost to a unit. But Marbot, unable to withstand the appeal of the commander, backed up by that of the surgeon who had stood beside his father's death-bed, declared to the Emperor that they were only eighty instead of four hundred short. Marbot delayed his report until evening, fearing that if he told his lie to the Emperor during the day, ​and while he was on horseback, he would go back to the chasseurs and himself count the regiment. When nightfall came Marbot approached the Imperial head-quarters:
"I was taken in, and found him lying at full length on an immense map spread on the floor. As soon as he saw me he called out, 'Well, Marbot, how many mounted chasseurs are there present in my guard? Are there twelve hundred of them, as Morland declares?' 'No, sir, I only counted eleven hundred and twenty, that is to say, eighty short.' 'I was quite sure that there were a great many missing.' The tone in which the Emperor pronounced these last words proved that he expected a much larger deficit; and, indeed, if there had been only eighty men missing in a regiment of twelve hundred which has just marched five hundred leagues in winter, sleeping almost every night in the open air, it would have been very little. So when the Emperor, on his way to dinner, crossed the room where the commanders of the guard were assembled, he merely said to Morland, 'You see now you've got eighty chasseurs missing; it is nearly a squadron. With eighty of these fellows one might stop a Russian regiment. You must keep a tight hand to stop the men from falling out.' Then passing on to the commander of the foot grenadiers, whose effective strength had also been much weakened, Napoleon reprimanded him severely. Morland, ​deeming himself very fortunate in getting off with a few remarks, came up to me as soon as the Emperor was at table, and thanked me warmly, telling me that some thirty chasseurs had just rejoined, and that a messenger arriving from Vienna had fallen in with more than a hundred between Znaym and Brunn and a good many more this side of Hollabrunn, so that he was certain that within forty-eight hours the regiment would have recovered most of its losses. I was quite as anxious for it as he, for I understood the difficulty in which I had been placed by my excess of gratitude towards Fournier. Such was my dread of the just wrath of the Emperor, whose confidence I had so gravely abused, that I could not sleep all night.
"My perplexity was still greater the next day, when Napoleon, during his customary visit to the troops, went towards the bivouac of the chasseurs, for a mere question addressed to an officer might have revealed everything. I was, therefore, giving myself up for lost, when I heard the bands in the Russian encampment on the heights of Pratzen, half a league from our outposts; therefore, riding towards the head of the numerous staff accompanying the Emperor, among whom I was, I got as near to him as I could and said in a loud voice, 'There must surely be some movement going on in the enemy's camp, for there is their band playing marches.' The Emperor heard my remark, abruptly ​quitted the path leading to the guard's bivouac, and went towards Pratzen to observe what was going on in the enemy's advance guard. He remained a long time watching, and at the approach of night he returned to Brunn without going to see his chasseurs. Thus I remained several days in mortal anxiety, although I heard of the successive return of sundry detachments. Finally, the battle being at hand, and the Emperor being very busy, the idea of making the verification which I had so much dreaded passed out of his thoughts, but I had had a good lesson. So when I became colonel and the Emperor questioned me on the number of combatants present in the squadrons of my regiment, I always told the exact truth."
V.
NAPOLEON'S DIPLOMATIC METHODS.
Marbot, having told how Napoleon could be deceived, proceeds to give an instructive instance of how Napoleon could deceive. The scene, which is about to be described, took place at the critical moment when the King of Prussia was still wavering between peace and war—between joining in the coalition against Napoleon or remaining neutral. To get some idea of what Napoleon was doing, the King sent Herr von Haugwitz on a diplomatic mission invented for the occasion. It was just after the battle of ​Bregenz, in which the army of Jellachich had been beaten and captured; and Napoleon's purpose was to get information of this decisive victory to the King of Prussia as soon as possible. Here was the strategy employed:
"Duroc, the marshal of the household, after giving us notice of what we were expected to do, had all the Austrian colours which Massy and I had brought from Bregenz, replaced privately in the quarters which we were occupying. Some hours afterwards, when the Emperor was talking in his study with Herr von Haugwitz, we repeated the ceremony of presentation in precisely the same manner as the first time. The Emperor, on hearing music in the court of his house, feigned astonishment, and went to the window, followed by the ambassador. Seeing the trophies borne by the sergeants, he called the aide-de-camp on duty, and asked what it all meant. The answer was that there were two aides-de-camp of Marshal Augereau, who were coming to bring the Emperor the colours of Jellachich's Austrian army which had been captured at Bregenz. We were ordered to enter, and there, without winking, and as if he had never seen us, Napoleon received the letter of Augereau, which had been sealed up, and read it, although he had known the contents for four days. Then he questioned us, making us enter into minutest details. Duroc had cautioned us ​to speak loud, because the Prussian ambassador was a little deaf. This was unlucky for my comrade and superior, Massy, since he had lost his voice and could hardly speak; so it was I who had to answer the Emperor, and seeing his plan, I depicted in the most vivid colours the defeat of the Austrians, their dejection, and the enthusiasm of the French troops. Then, presenting the trophies one after another, I named all the regiments to which they had belonged, laying especial stress upon two, the capture of which was likely to produce the greatest effect upon the Prussian ambassador. 'Here,' said I, ' are the colours of the Emperor of Austria's own regiment of infantry; there is the standard of his brother, the Archduke Charles's, Uhlans.' Napoleon's eyes sparkled, and seemed to say, 'Well done, young man.' Then he dismissed us, and as we went out we heard him say to the ambassador, 'You see, Count, my armies are winning at all points; the Austrian army is annihilated, and very soon the Russian army will be so.' Von Haugwitz appeared greatly upset, and as soon as we were out of the room, Duroc said to me, 'This evening the diplomat will write to Berlin to inform his Government of the destruction of Jellachich's army. This will somewhat calm the minds of those who are keen for war with us, and will give the King of Prussia fresh reasons for ​temporising, which is what the Emperor ardently desires.'
"The comedy having been played, the Emperor wished to get rid of an awkward witness who might report the positions of his army, and so hinted to the ambassador that to stay between two armies all ready for an engagement might be a little unsafe for him. He bade him go to Vienna to M. de Talleyrand, his Minister for Foreign Affairs—advice which Herr von Haugwitz followed that same evening. The next day the Emperor said nothing to us about yesterday's performance, but, wishing no doubt to evince his satisfaction at the way in which we had seized his idea, he asked tenderly after Major Massy's cold, and pinched my ear, which was with him a sort of caress."
VI.
AUSTERLITZ.
One of the most vividly-described battles in the whole book is Austerlitz. Even the non-military reader can feel himself carried away by the briskness, vividness, and horror of the narrative. I give one or two extracts:
"Marshal Soult carried not only the village of Pratzen, but also the vast tableland of that name, which was the culminating point of the whole country, and consequently the key of the ​battle-field. There, under the Emperor's eyes, the sharpest of the fighting took place, and the Russians were beaten back. But one battalion, the 4th of the line, of which Prince Joseph, Napoleon's brother, was colonel, allowing itself to be carried too far in pursuit of the enemy, was charged and broken up by the Noble Guard and the Grand Duke Constantine's cuirassiers, losing its eagle. Several lines of Russian cavalry quickly advanced to support this momentary success of the guards, but Napoleon hurled against them the Mamelukes, the mounted chasseurs, and the mounted grenadiers of his guard under Marshal Bessieres and General Rapp. The mêlée was of the most sanguinary kind; the Russian squadrons were crushed and driven back beyond the village of Austerlitz with immense loss. Our troopers captured many colours and prisoners, among the latter Prince Repnin, commander of the Noble Guard. This regiment, composed of the most brilliant of the young Russian nobility, lost heavily, because the swagger in which they had indulged against the French having come to the ears of our soldiers, these, and above all the mounted grenadiers, attacked them with fury, shouting as they passed their great sabres through their bodies: 'We will give the ladies of St. Petersburg something to cry for!'"
Here one sees the hideous and bestial ferocity which war begets. And then comes a passage ​in which there is a glimpse of the curious limitations which soldiers place on themselves:
"The painter Gérard, in his picture of the battle of Austerlitz, has taken for his subject the moment when General Rapp, coming wounded out of the fight, and covered with his enemies' blood and his own, is presenting to the Emperor the flags just captured and his prisoner, Prince Repnin. I was present at this imposing spectacle, which the artist has reproduced with wonderful accuracy. All the heads are portraits, even that of the brave chasseur who, making no complaint, though he had been shot through the body, had the courage to come up to the Emperor, and fell stone dead as he presented the standard which he had just taken. Napoleon, wishing to honour his memory, ordered the painter to find a place for him in his composition. In the picture may be seen also a Mameluke, who is carrying in one hand an enemy's flag and holds in the other the bridle of his dying horse. This man, named Mustapha, was well known in the guard for his courage and ferocity. During the charge he had pursued the Grand Duke Constantino, who only got rid of him by a pistol-shot, which severely wounded the Mameluke's horse. Mustapha, grieved at having only a standard to offer to the Emperor, said in his broken French as he presented it: 'Ah! if me catch Prince Constantine, me cut him head off and bring it to Emperor!' ​Napoleon, disgusted, replied: 'Will you hold your tongue, you savage?'"
And now here is another scene in which, once more, ferocity has the upper hand:
"The Emperor, whom we left on the plateau of Pratzen, having freed himself from the enemy's right and centre, which were in flight on the other side of Austerlitz, descended from the heights of Pratzen with a force of all arms, including Soult's corps and his guard, and went with all speed towards Telnitz, and took the enemy's columns in rear at the moment when Davoust was attacking in front. At once the heavy masses of Austrians and Russians, packed on the narrow roadways which lead beside the Goldbach brook, finding themselves between two fires, fell into an indescribable confusion. All ranks were mixed up together, and each sought to save himself by flight. Some hurled themselves headlong into the marshes which border the pools, but our infantry followed them there. Others hoped to escape by the road that lies between the two pools; our cavalry charged them, and the butchery was frightful. Lastly, the greater part of the enemy, chiefly Russians, sought to pass over the ice. It was very thick, and five or six thousand men keeping some kind of order, had reached the middle of the Satschan lake, when Napoleon, calling up the artillery of his guard, gave the order to fire on the ice. It broke at countless points, and a mighty cracking was heard. The ​water, oozing through the fissures, soon covered the floes, and we saw thousands of Russians, with their horses, guns, and waggons, slowly settle down into the depths. It was a horribly majestic spectacle which I shall never forget. In an instant the surface of the lake was covered with everything that could swim. Men and horses struggled in the water among the floes. Some—a very small number—succeeded in saving themselves by the help of poles and ropes, which our soldiers reached to them from the shore, but the greater part were drowned."
VII.
THE PATH OF GLORY.
In the fight General Morland—the commanding officer for whose sake Marbot had lied to the Emperor—was killed; the subsequent fate of his remains gives Marbot the opportunity for telling one of the most sardonic stones in the whole book:
"The Emperor, always on the look-out for anything that might kindle the spirit of emulation among the troops, decided that General Morland's body should be placed in the memorial building which he proposed to erect on the Esplanade des Invalides at Paris. The surgeons, having neither the time nor the materials necessary to embalm the general's body on the battle-field, put it into a barrel of rum, which was transported to Paris. But subsequent events having delayed the construction ​of the monument destined for General Morland, the barrel in which he had been placed was still standing in one of the rooms of the School of Medicine when Napoleon lost the Empire in 1814. Not long afterwards the barrel broke, through decay, and people were much surprised to find that the rum had made the general's moustaches grow to such an extraordinary extent that they fell below his waist. The corpse was in perfect preservation, but in order to get possession of it, the family were obliged to bring an action against some scientific man who had made a curiosity of it. Cultivate the love of glory and go and get killed, to let some oaf of a naturalist set you up in his library between a rhinoceros horn and a stuffed crocodile!"
VIII.
NAPOLEON AND HIS TROOPS.
The main interest of these volumes, of course, is their picture of Napoleon; and, accordingly, I extract by choice the passages which refer to him and help to complete his portrait. Here, for instance, is an example of the manner in which he managed to win the hearts of his soldiers:
"Our road lay by Aschaffenburg, whence we went on to Wurzburg. There we found the Emperor, who held a march-past of the troops of the 7th corps, amid great enthusiasm. Napoleon, who was in possession of notes about all the ​regiments, and knew how to use them cleverly so as to flatter the self-esteem of every one, said, when he saw the 44th of the line, 'Of all the corps in my army you are the one in which there are most stripes, so your three battalions count on my line for six.' The soldiers replied with enthusiasm, 'We will prove it before the enemy.' To the 78th Light Infantry, composed mainly of men from Lower Languedoc and the Pyrenees, the Emperor said: 'These are the best marchers in the army; one never sees a man of them fallen out, especially when the enemy has to be met.' Then he added, laughing, 'But to do you justice in full, I must tell you that you are the greatest rowdies and looters in the army.' 'Quite true, quite true!' answered the soldiers, every one of whom had a duck, fowl, or goose in his knapsack."
IX.
THE RISE OF THE HOUSE OF ROTHSCHILD.
In the course of his narrative of war and war's alarms, Marbot stops to tell the well-known story of the rise of the house of Rothschild. When Napoleon had beaten the Prussians, he confiscated the estates of the Elector of Hesse-Cassel as a punishment for his vacillation between the two warring monarchs:
"The avaricious sovereign had amassed a large treasure by selling his own subjects to the English. ​They were employed to fight the Americans in the War of Independence. Disloyal to his relations, he had offered to ally himself to the French, on condition that the Emperor would give him their states, so nobody regretted him. But his hurried departure was the cause of a remarkable incident which as yet is little known.
"When forced to leave Cassel in a hurry to take refuge in England, the Elector of Hesse, who was supposed to be the richest man in Europe, being unable to bring away the whole of his treasures, sent for a Frankfort Jew, named Rothschild, an obscure banker of the third rank, known only for the scrupulous practice of his religion. This seems to have decided the Elector to entrust to him 15,000,000 francs in specie. The interest of the money was to be the banker's, and he was only to be bound to return the capital.
"When the palace of Cassel was occupied by our troops the agents of the French Treasury seized property of great value, especially pictures, but no coined money was found, yet it appeared impossible that in his hasty flight the Elector could have carried away the whole of his immense fortune. Now, since, by what are conventionally called the laws of war, the capital and the interest of securities found in a hostile country belong of right to the conqueror, it became important to know what became of the Cassel treasure. Inquiry showed that before his departure the Elector had ​passed a whole day with the Jew Rothschild. An Imperial commission visited him and minutely examined his safes and books; but it was in vain; no trace of the Elector's deposit could be found. Threats and intimidation had no success until the commission, feeling sure that no personal interest could induce a man so religious as Rothschild to perjure himself, proposed to administer an oath to him. He refused to take it. There was talk of arresting him, but the Emperor, thinking this a useless act of violence, forbade it. Then they had resource to a not very honourable method. Unable to overcome the banker's resistance, they tried to gain him over by the bait of profit. They proposed to leave him half the treasure if he would give up the other half to the French administration. A receipt for the whole, accompanied by a deed of seizure, would be given him to prove that he had only yielded to force and to prevent any claim from lying against him; but the Jew's honesty rejected this suggestion also, and his persecutors, tired out, left him in peace. Thus the 15,000,000 francs remained in Rothschild's hands from 1806 till the fall of the Empire in 1814. Then the Elector returned to his states, and the banker returned him his deposit as he had received it. You may imagine the sum which a capital of 15,000,000 francs would produce in the hands of a Jew banker of Frankfort. From this time dates the opulence of the Rothschilds, who thus owe to ​their ancestor's honesty the high place which they now hold in the finance of all civilised countries."
X.
NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISE.
After Napoleon's victory at Friedland, there came, as is known, the interview between him and the Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia at Tilsit. Here took place an historic and characteristic scene between Napoleon and the Queen:
"One day Napoleon went to call on the unfortunate Queen of Prussia, who was said to be in great grief. He invited her to dinner on the following day, which she accepted, doubtless much against the grain. But at the moment of concluding peace, it was very necessary to appease the victor. Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia hated each other cordially. She had insulted him in many proclamations, and he had given it her back in his bulletins.
"Yet their interview showed no traces of their mutual hatred. Napoleon was respectful and attentive, the Queen gracious and disposed to captivate her former enemy. She had all need to do so, being well aware that the treaty of peace created, under the title of Kingdom of Westphalia, a new state whose territory was to be contributed by electoral Hesse and Prussia.
"The Queen could resign herself to the loss ​of several provinces, but she could not make up her mind to part with the strong place of Magdeburg, the retaining of which would be Prussia's safeguard. On his side, Napoleon, who proposed to make his brother Jerome King of Westphalia, wished to add Magdeburg to the new state. It is said that in order to retain this important town, the Queen of Prussia, during dinner, used all the methods of friendliness until Napoleon, to change the conversation, praised a superb rose that the Queen was wearing. The story goes that she said: 'Will your Majesty have this rose in exchange for Magdeburg?' Perhaps it would be chivalrous to accept, but the Emperor was too practical a man to let himself be caught by a pretty offer, and it is averred that while praising the beauty of the rose and of the hand which offered it, he did not take the flower. The Queen's eyes filled with tears, but the victor affected not to perceive it. He kept Magdeburg, and escorted the Queen politely to the boat which was to take her across to the other side."
XI.
NAPOLEON WOUNDED.
There is a popular and widespread delusion that Napoleon was never wounded; indeed, this is taken as one of the many signs and tokens of that demoniacal luck which for a long time marked ​his destiny. Marbot dissipates this, as well as some other illusions. Here is a scene which took place during the attack on Ratisbon:
XII.
NAPOLEON AND THE GRENADIER.
Here is another scene which gives a good picture of the relations between Napoleon and his soldiers. Marbot is still talking of the events before Ratisbon:
XIII.
DETECTION OF A SPY
There is an episode which shows Napoleon's extraordinary readiness and fertility of resource. It occurred just before the great battle of Wagram. The scene is also interesting as showing the curious fluctuations of feeling in Napoleon's character:
"Knowing that the enemy was expecting him to cross as before, between Aspern and Essling, and that it was important to conceal his plan of turning their position by crossing opposite Enzersdorf, Napoleon had a careful watch kept over all who entered the island by the great bridges connecting it with Ebersdorf. Every one on the island must have learnt the secret towards the end of the time; but as it seemed certain that none were on it but French soldiers or officers' servants, who were all guarded, no danger was apprehended from inquisitiveness on the enemy's part. This, as it turned out, was a mistake; for the Archduke had contrived to introduce a spy among us. Just when he was about to give information of the point which we were going to attack, an anonymous letter, written in Hungarian, was brought by a little girl to the Emperor's Mameluke, Roustan, with the warning that it was important and urgent. It ​was at first supposed to be a begging letter; but the interpreters soon translated it, and informed the Emperor. He came at once to the island, and ordered every soul—troops, staffs, commissaries, butchers, bakers, canteen men, even officers' servants—to be drawn up on parade. As soon as every one was in the ranks, the Emperor announced that a spy had found his way into the island, hoping to escape notice among 30,000 men; and, now that they were all in their places he ordered every man to look at his neighbour to right and left. In the midst of the dead silence, two soldiers were heard to cry, 'Here is a man we don't know.' He was arrested and examined, and admitted that he had disguised himself in a French uniform taken from men killed at Essling. This wretch had been born at Paris, and appeared very well educated. Having ruined himself at play, he had fled to Austria to escape his creditors, and there had offered himself as spy to the Austrian staff. A small boat used to take him across the Danube at night, landing him a league below Ebersdorf, and fetch him back the next night on a given signal. He had already been frequently on the island, and had accompanied detachments of our troops going to fetch provisions or materials from Ebersdorf. In order to avoid notice, he always went to places where there was a crowd, and worked with the soldiers at the entrenchments. ​He got his meals at the canteen, passed the night near the camps, and in the morning, armed with a spade as though on his way to join a working party, he would go all over the island and examine the works, lying down among the osiers to make a hurried sketch of them. The next night he would go and make his report to the Austrians, and come back to continue his observations. He was brought before a courtmartial and condemned to death; but the bitter regret which he expressed for having served the enemies of France disposed the Emperor to commute the penalty. When, however, the spy proposed to deceive the Archduke by going to make a false report on what he had seen, and coming back to tell the French what the Austrians were doing, the Emperor, disgusted at this new piece of infamy, abandoned him to his fate, and let him be shot."
XIV.
NAPOLEON AS HAROUN-AL-RASCHID.
Amid the many unpleasant impressions which Taine's tremendous indictment of Napoleon leaves on the mind, none is more odious than that left by Taine's picture of the Emperor in his Court. Rude, boorish, vulgar, inconsiderate to malignity, mischievous to brutality, he is drawn—passing from courtier to courtier, and even from lady to lady, with a look that froze, a sneer that wounded, a ​question that was like a poisoned arrow. It is only fair, then, to quote the following passage from Marbot, which, though it does not present Napoleon in a particularly amiable light, yet gives an impression of naïveté, good-humour, and affability, not altogether consistent with Taine's lurid and shocking picture.
Napoleon used to insist that his great officials, to whom he gave magnificent salaries, should entertain largely in order to encourage trade and so keep Paris in good humour. Marescalchi, who—as Marbot puts it—was ambassador for Napoleon, King of Rome, to Napoleon, Emperor of the French, was one of the most brilliant of these entertainers, and he was especially remarkable for his fancy-dress balls. At these balls Napoleon was a constant visitor. He had just been divorced from Josephine—it was the year 1810—but had not yet married Marie Louise:
"Wearing a plain black domino and common mask, and with Duroc, similarly disguised, on his arm, Napoleon used to mix with the crowd and puzzle the ladies, who were rarely masked. The crowd, it is true, consisted of none but trustworthy persons, because M. Marescalchi always submitted his list to the Minister of Police; and also because the assistant-adjutant-general, Laborde, so well-known for his talents in scenting a conspirator, was at the entrance of ​the rooms, and allowed no one to enter without showing his face and ticket and giving his name. Agents in disguise went about, and a battalion of the guard furnished sentries to every exit. These precautions, however, were so well managed by Duroc that, once in the room, the guests were unconscious of any supervision."
It was at one of these balls that poor Marbot was almost ruined by an importunate and accidental acquaintance. Madame X——, the widow of an official, thought that her pension was insufficient, and, having made vain application to all the other members of the Imperial family, she resolved finally to get at the Emperor himself. By an oversight she managed to make her way to the masked ball:
"The ball was on the ground-floor, card-tables being on that above; when I entered, the quadrilles were going on, and a crowd was gazing at the magnificent costumes. Suddenly, in the midst of the silk, velvet, feathers, and embroideries, appeared a colossal female figure, clad in plain white calico, with red corset, and bedizened with coloured ribbons in the worst taste. This was Madame X——, who had found no better way of displaying her magnificent hair than dressing as a shepherdess, with a little straw hat over one ear, and two large tresses down to her heels. Her curious get-up, and the strange simplicity of the dress in which she appeared in ​the brilliant assembly, drew all eyes towards her. I had the curiosity to look that way, having unluckily taken off my mask. Madame X——, feeling awkward in the crowd of strangers, came to me, and took my arm without more ado, saying aloud, 'Now I shall have a partner.'"
XV.
MARBOT IN A TIGHT PLACE.
Marbot managed, however, to make his escape, and then this is what happened:
"Rid at length of this dreadful incubus, I hastened up to the first floor, where, going through the quiet card-rooms, I went and established myself in a room at the far end, dimly lighted by a shady lamp. No one being there, I took off my mask, and was resting and consuming an excellent ice, rejoicing in my escape, when two masked men, short and stout, in black dominoes, entered the little room. 'Here we shall be out of the crowd,' said one; then calling me by my name without prefix, he beckoned me to him. I could not see his face, but as I knew all the great dignitaries of the Empire were in the house, I felt sure that a man who could so imperatively summon an officer of my rank must be an important personage. I came forward, and the unknown said in a whisper, 'I am Duroc: the Emperor is with me. He is overcome by the ​heat, and wishes to rest in this out-of-the-way room; stay with us, to obviate any suspicion on the part of a chance enterer.' The Emperor sat down in an arm-chair, looking towards a corner of the room. The general and I placed ours back to back with his so as to cover him, facing the door, and began to chat, by the general's wish, as if he were one of my comrades. The Emperor taking off his mask, asked the general for two handkerchiefs, with which he wiped his face and neck; then, tapping me lightly on the shoulder, he begged me (that was his term) to get him a large glass of cold water, and bring it myself. I went at once to the nearest buffet, and filled a glass with iced water; but as I was about to carry it to the room where Napoleon was, I was accosted by two tall men in Scotch costume, one of whom said in my ear, 'Can Major Marbot answer for the wholesomeness of that water?' I thought I could, for I had taken it at random from one of the many decanters standing there for the use of all comers. Doubtless, these two persons were some of the police agents who were distributed about the house under various disguises to look after the Emperor without worrying him by too ostentatious attention, and moved about at a respectful distance, ready to fly to his help if they were wanted. Napoleon received the water which I brought him with so much satisfaction that I thought he must be ​parched with thirst; to my surprise, however, he swallowed only a small mouthful, then, dipping the two handkerchiefs in the iced water, he told me to put one on the nape of his neck while he held the other to his face, repeating, 'Ah! that's good, that's good!' Duroc then resumed his chat with me, chiefly about the recent campaign in Austria. The Emperor said, 'You behaved very well, especially at the assault on Ratisbon and the crossing of the Danube; I shall never forget it, and before long I will give you a notable proof of my satisfaction.' I could not imagine what this new reward was to consist of, but my heart leapt for joy. Then, oh woe! the terrible shepherdess appeared at the end of the little room. 'Oh! there you are, sir! I shall complain to your cousin of your rudeness,' she exclaimed. 'Since you deserted me I have been all but smothered ten times over. I had to leave the ball-room, the heat is stifling. It seems comfortable here; I will rest here.' So saying, she sat down beside me.
"General Duroc said nothing, and the Emperor, keeping his back turned and his face in the wet handkerchief, remained motionless; more and more so as the shepherdess, given free play to her reckless tongue, and taking no notice of our neighbours, told me how she thought she had more than once recognised the personage whom she sought in the crowd, but had not been able ​to get at him. 'But I must speak to him,' she said; 'he absolutely must double my pension. I know that people have tried to injure me by saying that I was free in my youth. Good heavens! go and listen for a moment to the talk down there between the windows. Besides, what about his sisters? What about himself? What does he come here for, if not to be able to talk as he likes to pretty women? They say my husband stole; poor devil! he took to it late, and was pretty clumsy at it. Besides, have not his accusers stolen too? Did they inherit their town houses and their fine estates? Didn't he steal in Italy, Egypt, everywhere?' 'But, madame,' said I, 'allow me to remark that what you say is very unseemly, and I am all the more surprised you should say it to me, that I never saw you till this morning.' 'Oh! I speak the truth before any one. And if he does not give me a good pension, I will tell him, or write to him, what I think of him pretty plainly. Oh! I am not afraid of anything.' I was on tenterhooks, and would willingly have exchanged my situation for a cavalry charge or a storming party. However, my agony was alleviated by feeling that Madame X——'s chatter would clear my character with my two neighbours when they heard that I had never seen her till that morning, had not brought her to the ball, and had got away from her as soon as I could."
XVI.
The end of the adventure.
"Nevertheless, I was rather anxious about the way in which this scene would end, when Duroc, leaning towards me, said: 'Don't let this woman follow us.' He rose. The Emperor had replaced his mask while Madame X—— was raving at him, and as he passed in front of her he said to me, 'Marbot, people who take an interest in you are pleased to know that you never met this charming shepherdess till to-day, and you would do well to send her off to feed her sheep.' So saying, Napoleon took Duroc's arm and went out. Madame X——, astounded, and thinking she recognised them, wanted to dart after them. I knew that, strong as I was, I could not hold this giantess by the arm, but I seized her by the skirt, which tore at the waist with a loud crack. At the sound the shepherdess, fearing that if she pulled she would presently find herself in her shift, stopped short, saying, 'It's he! it's he!' and reproaching me bitterly for having hindered her from following. This I endured patiently until I saw in the distance the Emperor and Duroc, with the two Scotchmen following a little way off, come to the end of the long suite of rooms and reach the staircase. Judging, then, that Madame X—— would not be able to find them ​in the crowd, I made her a low bow without a word, and went off as quick as I could. She was ready to choke with rage, but feeling that the lower part of her garment was about to desert her, she said to me, 'At least, try to get me some pins, for my dress is falling off.' But I was so angry at her freaks that I left her in the lurch, and I will even admit that I was mischievous enough to rejoice at her awkward position. I quickly left the house and returned home. I passed a disturbed night, seeing myself in my dreams pursued by the shepherdess, who, in spite of my remonstrances, kept insulting the Emperor horribly. Next day I went to cousin Sahuguet to tell her the extraordinary conduct of her dangerous friend. She was disgusted, and forbade her house to Madame X——, who a few days after received orders to leave Paris, nor do I know what became of her.
"The Emperor, as is well known, attended a state mass every Sunday, after which there was a grand reception at the Tuileries, open to every one who had reached a certain rank in the civil or judicial service, and to officers in the army. As such I had the entrée, of which I only availed myself once a month. The Sunday following the day on which the scene I have related took place I was in perplexity. Ought I to show myself to the Emperor so quickly, or would it be better to let some weeks pass? I consulted my mother, ​and her opinion was that as I was in no way to blame in the affair, I had better go to the Tuileries, and show no signs of embarrassment, which advice I followed. The people who came to court formed a rank on each side of the way to the chapel. The Emperor passed in silence between them, returning their salutes. He replied to mine by a good-natured smile, which seemed to me of good omen, and completely reassured me. After the mass, as Napoleon went through the rooms again, and, according to his custom, addressed a few words to the people who were there, he stopped in front of me, and being unable to express himself freely in presence of so many hearers, he said to me, sure that I should take his meaning: 'I am told that you were at Marescalchi's last ball; did you enjoy yourself very much?' 'Not the least bit, sir.' 'Ah!' replied the Emperor, 'if masked balls sometimes offer agreeable adventures, they are apt also to cause very awkward ones. The great thing is to get well out of them, and no doubt that is what you did.' As soon as the Emperor had passed on, General Duroc, who was behind me, said in my ear: 'Confess that there was a moment when you were in a considerable fix! So was I, indeed, for I am responsible for all the invitations; but it won't happen again. Our impudent shepherdess is far away from Paris, and will never come back.'"
XVII.
AFTER MOSCOW.
There is a vivid description of some of the horrors of the Russian campaign, but the mention of Napoleon is not frequent, and there is no picture of him that stands out in bold relief. But here is a passage which throws a singular and clear light on France and her attitude to Napoleon after these disasters. It is a picture the more striking because it is drawn, not by a politician or a philanthropist, but by a soldier who revelled in war's perils and glories:
"The majority of the French nation still confided in Napoleon. No doubt well-informed persons blamed him for having forced his army on to Moscow, and especially for having waited there till winter; but the ass of the people, accustomed to regard the Emperor as infallible, and having, moreover, no idea of what had really happened, or of the losses of our army in Russia, saw only the renown which the capture of Moscow had shed on our arms; so they were eager to give the Emperor the means of bringing victory back to his eagles. Each department and town was patriotically ready to find horses; but the levies of conscripts and money soon chilled their enthusiasm. Still, on the whole, the nation sacrificed itself with a good grace, squadrons and ​battalions rising as if by magic from the ground. It was astonishing that, after all the drafts of men which France had undergone in the last twenty years, never had soldiers of such good quality been enlisted. This was due to several causes; first, there had been for some years in each of the hundred and twenty existing departments a so-called 'departmental' company of infantry—a kind of prætorian guard to the prefects, and formed by their picked men, who, being well looked after and not overworked, had time to grow to their full strength, and being regularly drilled and exercised, needed only their 'baptism of fire' to make them perfect troops. The companies varied in strength from one hundred to two hundred and fifty men; the Emperor sent them all to the army, where they were merged in line regiments. Secondly, a great number of conscripts from previous years, who, for one reason or another, had obtained leave to be placed at the 'tail' of their depôts, to wait until they were required, were called up. They, too, as they grew older, had nearly all become strong and vigorous."
XVIII.
THE BLOOD TAX.
There is something strangely moving and pathetic in this picture of the readiness of the people of France to place themselves at the ​mercy of their terrible ruler. Here is a continuation of the picture which will show how thoroughly merciless were the exactions with which Napoleon demanded the full tax of blood:
"These were legal measures; but not so was the recalling of persons who had drawn a lucky number at the conscriptions and thus escaped service. All of these below the age of thirty were required to serve. This levy, therefore, furnished a number of men fit to undergo the fatigues of war. There was some grumbling, especially in the south and west; but so great was the habit of obedience, that nearly all the contingent went on duty. This submission on the part of the people led the Government to take a still more illegal step, which, as it touched the upper class, was the more dangerous. After having made men serve whom the ballot had exempted, they compelled those who had quite lawfully obtained substitutes to shoulder their muskets all the same. Many families had embarrassed and even ruined themselves to keep their sons at home, for a substitute cost from 12,000 to 20,000 francs at that time, and this had to be paid down. There were some young men who had obtained substitutes three times over, and were none the less compelled to go; cases even occurred in which they had to serve in the same company with the man whom they ​had paid to take their place. This piece of iniquity was owing to the advice of Clarke, the War Minister, and Savary, the Police Minister, who persuaded the Emperor that, to prevent any movement of opposition to the Government during the war, sons of influential families must be got out of the country and sent to the army, to act in some sort as hostages. In order, however, to reduce the odium of this measure somewhat, the Emperor created, under the name of Guards of Honour, four cavalry regiments formed of young men of good education. They wore a brilliant hussar uniform, and had generals for their colonels.
"To these more or less legal levies, the Emperor added the produce of a forestalled conscription, and there were excellent battalions formed of sailors, and artificers or gunners of marine artillery, all well-set men trained in handling arms, who had long been weary of their monotonous life in ports, and were eager to go and win glory along with their comrades of the land forces. They soon became formidable infantry, and amounted to 30,000. Lastly, the Emperor further weakened the army in Spain by taking from it not only some thousands of men to replenish his guard, but whole brigades and divisions of seasoned veterans."
XIX.
THE DEFEAT AT LEIPSIC.
Everybody knows the story of the great battle of Leipsic. Marbot reveals the secret of that utter absence of any preparation for retreat, which explained so much of the horrible bloodshed, by which Napoleon's retreat after the battle was followed.
"The Emperor's chief of the head-quarters' staff was Prince Berthier, who had been with him since the Italian campaign of 1796. He was a man of capacity, accuracy, and devotion to duty, but he had often felt the effects of the Imperial wrath, and had acquired such a dread of Napoleon's outbreaks, that he had vowed in no circumstance to take the initiative or ask any question, but to confine himself to executing orders which he received in writing. This system, while keeping the chief of the staff on good terms with his master, was injurious to the interests of the army; for great as were the Emperor's activity and talents, it was physically impossible for him to see to everything, and thus, if he overlooked any important matter, it did not get attended to.
"So it seems to have been at Leipsic. Nearly all the marshals and generals commanding army corps pointed out to Berthier over ​and over again the necessity of providing many passages to secure a retreat in the event of a reverse, but he always answered, 'The Emperor has given no orders.' Nothing could be got out of him, so that when, on the night of the i8th, the Emperor gave the order to retreat on Weissenfels and the Saale, there was not a beam or a plank across a single brook."
This is one of the many instances in history of the demoralisation which the uncontrolled and despotic temper of a leader is apt to produce in his subordinates. There is a significant passage in the course of this description which shows how far the Emperor had begun to lose his popularity, even in the army:
"The Emperor came by, but as he galloped along the flank of the column he heard none of the acclamations which were wont to proclaim his presence. The army was ill-content with the little care which had been taken to secure its retreat."
XX.
NAPOLEON AS A FRIEND.
Throughout Marbot's narrative there is scarcely a reflection which shows any strong reprobation of Napoleon's methods or character; indeed, our Marbot is almost as free from any penetrating sense of the horrors of war as though the soul of old Froissart had passed into his. Never​theless, he cannot help, now and then, giving us glimpses of the red and hideous ruin which Napoleon had brought on France. Here is a passage of sober but effective eloquence in which Marbot paints France as she was in 1814:
"Several military writers have expressed surprise that France did not rise as in 1792 to repel the invaders, or at least form, like the Spaniards, a focus of national defence in every province. To this the answer is, that twenty-five years of war, and the conscription too frequently anticipated, had worn out the enthusiasm which in 1792 had improvised armies. The example of Spain does not apply to France. Paris has been allowed to gain too much influence, and unless she puts herself at the head of the movement, France is helpless. In Spain, on the other hand, each province, being a little government, could act and raise an army, even when the French held Madrid. France was ruined by centralisation."
Marbot, as well as the other chroniclers, shows Napoleon's softer side. He was very indulgent to some of his lieutenants, especially to General Lasalle, who seems to have been one of the greatest scamps as well as one of the most brilliant soldiers in the army.