1003. Napoleon I. Scenes in the Life of a Soldier of Fortune. By a Member of 
 the Imperial Guard. i2mo, half pc ished calf, gilt panelled back, gilt 
 c™ nnoi,f t>t VI £ rf London, 1846 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 SOCIETIES 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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SCENES 
 
 IN THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 
 £ 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 BY 
 
 A MEMBER OE THE IMPERIAL GUARD. 
 
 “ Misplaced in life, 
 
 I know not what I could have been, hut feel 
 I am not what I should be.” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., CORNHILL. 
 
 1846. 
 

 ' te; 
 
 
 
 ill- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 - 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It has been well said that a preface should resemble a 
 fair porch through which all must pass before entering 
 a good-looking mansion ; but as the building to which I 
 would introduce my friends may not possess attractions 
 the most alluring, I will not detain them at the entrance. 
 
 My acquaintance with the writer of these sketches 
 commenced in November, 1828, exactly in the manner 
 described in the first chapter. I wrote them from 
 dictation, as exercises in the language he professed to 
 teach me, and on my return to England, translated 
 some of the earlier chapters, which were sent to the 
 New Monthly Magazine , then under the management 
 of Sir Lytton Bulwer ; they were returned to me as 
 inadmissible, and thrown aside ; and there perhaps they 
 might have remained, but in tumbling over some papers 
 they came to light, and were sent to the editor of the 
 same journal some four or five years since. Mr. Hood 
 at once accepted them, bat after Mr. Colburn had them 
 in his possession some year and a half, they were 
 
 775081 N 
 
IV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 returned to me, and were then sent to my friend, the 
 Editor of the Worcestershire Chronicle , in the pages of 
 which journal they have since appeared. 
 
 As the only merit I can claim is that of a translator, 
 it must of necessity he small; the faults, I am willing 
 to think, are all my own, for I cannot but remember 
 (even at this distance of time) the interest with which 
 I listened to the narrative of events, in which my 
 instructor had played so prominent a part—an interest 
 which I fear may not he conveyed to the reader. 
 
 Should it he otherwise, I shall at some future period 
 resume the subject, and continue the description of the 
 scenes through which he passed, to that sad eventful 
 one w r hen we parted on the Ponte St. Trinita at Flo¬ 
 rence, he to pursue the drudgery of teaching the Italian, 
 language for a living, while I returned to the bosom of 
 my family. 
 
SCENES 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 THE RENCONTRE. 
 
 u Little of this great world can I speak 
 More than pertains to feats of broil and battle.”. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 ** Long years have passed away since the first dawn of yoxith, 
 and silver hairs are o’er my forehead stealing, vet am I still in heart 
 and soul a boy, though Hope, the most esteemed inmate of 
 Pandora’s box, was in vain restrained for me, and, losing her, I 
 have little else to sigh for besides rest, that everlasting rest found 
 only in the grave. 
 
 “ When 1 rellect upon what I have been, and contrast it with 
 what I am,—I who, in the ever-varying walks of life, have wan¬ 
 dered on regardless alike of the future and the past,—1 who, 
 from a soldier of fortune, with no heritage save my courage, no 
 possessions save my sword, cut mv way to the highest honours,— 
 I who have been held by the button by the ruler of nations, the 
 creator of kingdoms, the setter up of kings, the greatest man of 
 any age or country,—when 1 look at these decorations and recal 
 to my recollection Mantua, the Pyramids, Marengo, Austerlitz, 
 Moscow, and the thousand other battles where our valour 
 triumphed or his genius rendered a retreat almost equal to a 
 "ictory*—when I contrast his brilliant successes with his last 
 reverse—the imperial splendour with his ocean prison and early 
 grave, I dare not murmur ; I cannot repine. What has been my 
 fate compared to his, since I am here in some comfort, enjoying 
 health and strength, if rot competency; and having exchanged 
 the sabre for the ferule, and thrown over the gay uniform of the 
 
 n 
 
2 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 light dragoon the more sober mantle of a teacher of languages, am 
 still able to pour into the ear of my first pupil this record of my 
 youthful follies, instead of unceasing and unavailing regrets.” 
 
 “ What boots it now, that life has lost its freshness—that youth 
 and joy are gone ; none can rob me of the glory I have obtained, 
 as none can relieve me of the miseries I have endured. Away 
 then care, the present moment is our own, and who would distress 
 himself about aught beside ?” 
 
 Such, in the impassioned language of his country, which I have 
 but feebly rendered into English, were the words of my Italian 
 master, as seated by a cheerful wood fire in the sitting room of 
 my apartments on the Lung’-Arno at Florence, we conversed on his 
 present situation ; but as they were the prelude to the history of 
 the scenes I am about to describe, it may perhaps be as weU if 
 I here pause and say a little concerning the narrator. 
 
 I was walking round the harbour of Genoa, admiring the 
 beautiful quays which form that port, some ten days after my 
 arrival there, when I was accosted by a man in the garb of a sailor, 
 who, in a sort of Lingua Franca, compounded of Genoese, French, 
 and Italian, with, for aught I can tell, a smattering of Spanish, 
 neither very melodious to to the ear nor comprehensive to the 
 understanding, asked if I wanted a passage to Leghorn ? I had 
 been roaming over the north of Italy for the last three months, 
 without any definite object or fixed destination, one moment 
 resolving to start for Greece, the next determining to proceed to 
 Spain. The choice was a matter of caprice, not necessity, for I 
 cared little whether I went to the icy regions of the North, or the 
 burning climes of Africa—“the world was all before me where to 
 choose”—so I soon made up my mind, asked the terms of the 
 passage, and the time of sailing, and depositing a gratuity in the 
 hands of the sailor, was entered as a passenger on board the good 
 felucca La Sacra Famiglia, under the command of il Capitano 
 Tarabotto. I am quite aware that many of my readers would 
 condemn this off-hand method of acting, for although the weekly 
 steamer to Leghorn and Naples had only left the harbour on the 
 previous evening, I had declined the pressing invitation of a friend 
 on hoard to accompany him to the metropolis of the south, since 
 I had no immediate intention to die, and therefore preferred 
 obeying the Neapolitan proverb* at some future period. 1 felt, 
 however, a desire to float “ o’er the glad waters of the dark blue 
 sea,” and therefore resolved on the cruise ; so returning to my 
 hotel, I prepared my baggage, and made ready to quit the fair 
 city, which the inhabitants in their pride have christened Genova 
 la Superha. 
 
 And truly they have not erred, for if ever city were worthy of 
 the name, it is the Queen of the Mediterranean, which is built on 
 the margin of the gulf of the same name in the form of a crescent. 
 
 * Vedi Napoli et poi mori.—(See Naples, and then die.) 
 
 R3C 
 
 NdJ 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 3 
 
 The Appenines rise from the water’s edge, giving the town the 
 appearance of an amphitheatre, while the background is covered, 
 even to the very summit of the hills, by the beautiful country 
 houses of the Genoese nobility. Viewed from the harbour the 
 coup d’ccil is splendid, and much as I afterwards deplored putting 
 myself on board so wretched a craft, I shall not soon forget the 
 impression produced upon me as we sailed out of the harbour, the 
 wind blowing fresh from the north-west. My compagnons clu voyage 
 were, Mr. B., the son of a Northumbrian banker ; a red-hot son of 
 Erin, in the person of Mr. C. ; and Jean Gazzola, whose adven¬ 
 tures I am about to relate, the whole of us meeting for the first 
 time in a miserable craft, crank as a canoe, and unseaworthy as a 
 washing tub. However, for our comfort, the wind was fair, and 
 the vessel scudded through the sea, casting the blue waves from 
 her bows in wreaths of snowy whiteness, and we were just 
 congratulating ourselves on a quick run and speedy deliverance, 
 when the hitherto smiling aspect of the heavens began to change 
 and look threatening, while a thick mist, not unlike a wetting 
 shower, came on. We had certainly not made ten miles, and 
 the prospect was anything but cheering, an open boat in such a 
 night holding out few temptations, when our worthy captain, who 
 had neither compass nor chronometer, soon cut the matter short; 
 in spite of all our remonstrances to the contrary, the vessel was 
 put about, and in an hour we found ourselves re-entering the 
 harbour of Genoa. 
 
 In the meantime night had come on, but bad, as we considered 
 our situation to be, worse remained behind, for il Capitano refused 
 to allow our baggage to be landed until we had first deposited 
 half our passage money, such being, according to his version, the 
 custom of the port of Genoa. As we had quite abandoned the 
 idea of proceeding by sea, we naturally enough declined paying 
 for a passage we did not intend to take ; high words ensued, 
 neither party quite comprehending the language of the other, but 
 the expressive language of the eyes, pretty well understood in all 
 countries, gave sufficient notice that matters were becoming 
 serious, the Irishman proposing to knock the captain into the sea, 
 a determination which 1 had great difficulty in preventing being 
 adopted. Our gray-headed friend at last stepped forward, and 
 professed his willingness to arbitrate betweeh us, for since he had 
 determined to wait till the weather cleared up, and the vessel 
 sailed again, it could make no difference to him which party 
 succeeded. 
 
 It were useless here to relate how we were bandied about from 
 the officers of the customs to the commissary of police, and thence 
 to the consul of the marine. Our own consul was from home, 
 and from him, therefore, we could receive no assistance, so we were 
 obliged to put off the subject till the following day, and weary 
 i enough we became on arriving at our hotel, to which Gazzola 
 accompanied us. 
 
 b i 
 
4 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Next morning at ten we all assembled in the office of the marine 
 consul, and were not long in discovering of how little avail were 
 all our endeavours, for after we had stated our case, to which the 
 captain replied, dwelling strongly on the state of the weather, the 
 consul decided that he was in the right, and that if he were pre¬ 
 vented by the rain and the fog from performing his part of the 
 contract—“ Madre di dio ”—who could blame Providence; we 
 must be content to pay, and to deduct the sum paid from the 
 amount of our passage-money whenever the weather should clear 
 up and allow us to pursue our voyage. In vain our advocate 
 protested that there was no occasion for our return,—that we might 
 have proceeded without any tempting of Providence, had not the 
 cowardly fears of the captain prevented us,—in vain we asserted 
 that this verdict was contrary to law, justice, reason, or common 
 sense : the case had been decided before we had been heard, and 
 we were at a loss to determine which was the greater villain of the 
 three, the captain, the witness, who had declared what we con¬ 
 sidered a fair wind had amounted to a hurricane, or the consul, 
 who had followed the Devonshire maxim of “ Lydford law; first 
 hang and draw, then hear the cause.” They all seemed much on 
 a par, so uttering curses, not loud but deep, we paid the money 
 and quitted the office of the unjust judge. 
 
 Thus ended our voyage, and here, in all probability, would have 
 ended our acquaintance, but that feeling annoyed at our defeat, we 
 determined to have done with our worthy captain, and to proceed 
 by land ; so hiring a carriage, we offered our interpreter the 
 vacant seat, free of ail cost and charge, and once more bidding 
 adieu to Genoa, we took the maritime road to Pisa. 
 
 Of the three strangers, I was the only one with whom the 
 Piedmontese could hold converse, for Mr. B— knew no living 
 language save that of the country in which he was born, and Mr. 
 C— had scarcely the advantage of him, his knowledge extending 
 no farther than a few Irish oaths picked up from his nurse ; 
 Gazzola and I were therefore left to ourselves, and after a tedious 
 and dreary journey of three days, during the whole of which time 
 it rained in torrents, we arrived at Pisa, where we separated—he 
 taking the road to Florence, while we pursued that to Leghorn. 
 In a few days, however, we all re-assembled in the former city, 
 and he then offered himself as a master to perfect me in Italian, 
 with which language I was as yet but little acquainted. 
 
 Thus our intercourse commenced and was continued, and as he 
 had no other employment and his means were scanty, he became 
 a constant visitor at my lodgings—a frequent and welcome guest 
 at my table ; and after two or three such bursts as that with which 
 I commenced this chapter, I succeeded in getting him to relate 
 some passages in his history, the more prominent parts of which 
 I was accustomed immediately to commit to paper. 
 
 Poor fellow!—fortune had indeed frowned upon him; and yet, 
 although his hair had become almost silvery white, and the 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 5 
 
 moustache had lost the ehon hue upon which he had prided 
 himself in times gone by, that perfect yaicte dc ccauv —that devil- 
 may-carishness which he had acquired from his long service in the 
 French army, had never deserted him, and he seemed as light¬ 
 hearted and volatile as in his most palmy days, never, during' our 
 acquaintance, giving way to low spirits. 
 
 Of his subsequent career I know nothing, and as many years 
 have elapsed since we parted, during which I have never heard 
 anything of him, I presume he has passed to that bourne whence 
 no traveller returns. Of the reasons why these reminiscences 
 have not before been given to the world, or why they are now 
 published, I may perhaps speak hereafter; at present I shall 
 content myself with saying, in the language of the poet, 
 
 “ I know not how the truth may be, 
 
 I say the tale as ’twas said to me.” 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 LA BALLERINA. 
 
 Ob! Love, e’en in thy happiest hours thou art 
 A troubled dream of restless hopes and fears ; 
 
 A scorching fire which preys upon the heart, 
 
 Blanches the cheek, and fills the eye with tears. 
 
 Ob ! but for thee, how many a joyous spirit, 
 
 Now quenched and dead,had still been light and free; 
 
 How many a youthful heart that well might merit 
 A happier late, hath been undone by thee. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 “ It would matter little,” said Gazzola, one evening, “ when or 
 where I drew my breath, or who were my parents ; the children 
 of misfortune need never boast of their ancestry; but as my first 
 essa} r , and subsequent appearance as an actor in the bustling scenes 
 of this world were entirely the effect of my own imprudence, I 
 must say a few words on the early days of my youth. 
 
 I was born in the north of Piedmont, but my family had 
 removed to Turin, and being the eldest son of a widowed mother, 
 who was left by her husband in tolerably easy circumstances, I 
 became her favourite ; indeed, with such indulgence had she 
 treated me, and deferred for so long a period my departure from 
 home, to which she could never make up her mind, that I had 
 attained the age of sixteen years before any profession had been 
 thought of for me, or any fixed mode of life determined upon. I 
 had been scantily educated, for the revolutionary troubles of 
 
 b 3 
 
6 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 France had extended to our own country, the people were fra¬ 
 ternizing - , and matters appeared in much too unsettled a state to 
 allow of my being sent far from home, while, taking advantage of 
 the too great partiality of my parent, I had little ambition for the 
 character of a studious young man. 
 
 Poor dear mother! When I lookback upon these times and 
 recal your great anxiety that I should become a gentleman of the 
 world—your charge that I should bear myself as became a man— 
 and the pains you took with my dress and appearance, I cannot but 
 smile at your too partial pride, and wonder what you would have 
 said had you witnessed some of the scenes of after-life through 
 which your ungrateful child was fated to pass. Oh! what can 
 equal the untiring devotion of a mother’s affection ? and yet, fool 
 that I was, I valued it not while 1 possessed it, and now that the 
 loss is irreparable, I become sensible of its extent. It is the pole- 
 star of our destiny—the never-varying compass on the stormy 
 ocean of life—an oasis in the desert of man’s existence, to which, 
 with undying feelings of love, we recur again and again when all 
 besides is forgotten, and the remembrance of which expires but 
 with our latest sigh. Through all my wanderings—in the stillness 
 of solitude or amid the bustle and turmoil of the camp—in the 
 wearying night march, the dreary bivouac, the hour of victory 
 and the moment of repulse, memory has exerted her power, and 
 the remembrance of my mother’s deep devotion and unceasing 
 affection has stolen over me, filling my bosom with sad and 
 mournful thoughts, and dimming the eye of the rough soldier with 
 unbidden tears. I may with truth affirm, that however bitter have 
 been my disappointments, I have had but one unavailing regret, 
 and that has been caused by my conduct to my mother. I do 
 deeply, passionately regret that 1 parted from her without bidding 
 her adieu, and that another’s bosom pillowed her head while her 
 last sigh was breathed in a prayer for the welfare of her child. 
 
 I am becoming sentimental: it is a fault of grey hairs into 
 which I shall not readily fall again, but at sixteen years we think 
 differently to what we do at sixty ; and at the former period 1 was 
 the beau of Turin,—for such in her pride my fond parent declared 
 ine to be. Caressed and flattered by the women, smiled at and 
 noticed by the men, who can be surprised that, although my 
 stature scarcely allowed me to rank with the latter, I had ceased 
 to consider myself “ in simplicity a child.” My time was entirely 
 my own; I was free to come and go as I listed, with a purse 
 amply supplied. And as dancing and fencing were considered 
 accomplishments indispensable to the education of a gentleman, my 
 only study was to render myself completely master of them, and 
 I flatter myself 1 became a tolerable proficient, leaving no stone 
 unturned in their acquisition, and spending the greater portion of 
 every morning in the Salle d’Armes or the Ecole de danse. 
 
 Fatal attendance ! lienee arose all my misfortunes ! Attached 
 to each of the principal theatres of Italy is a school of dancing, in 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 7 
 
 part supported by the government; and at that of Turin the young 
 men of the city were accustomed to assemble to take lessons from 
 the ballet-master, while the whole corps de ballet also attended for 
 the purpose of learning some new piece, or perfecting themselves 
 in an old one. Their attendance was compulsory, while ours being 
 voluntary, gave us an opportunity of becoming acquainted with all 
 the dancers of the theatre, an acquaintance at once the most 
 fascinating and dangerous. Happy, happy boyhood; how many 
 hours were idled away ostensibly in taking lessons in this delightful 
 amusement, but really in whispering soft nonsense into the ears 
 of the ballerinas, most of whom were chosen for their personal 
 grace and beauty. 
 
 It has been well said, “ Le sage n'a ni amour ni haine,” but I 
 was a boy of sixteen, and not a wise man ; so I took the earliest 
 opportunity to fall desperately in love, or at least to fancy Iwas, 
 much the same thing to a young imagination; for though, as one 
 of your poets has declared, “ the cold in clime are cold in blood,’ 7 
 and in your more frigid atmosphere the idea of a boy of sixteen 
 being in love would appear ridiculous, it is not the same with us— 
 in the sunny south the passions are more precocious; and Adela, 
 or, as she was more generally termed, “ La Bella,” lit up a flame 
 in my bosom that somewhat interfered with my devotions to the 
 foil and the valse. I made her acquaintance in the Salon during 
 my attendance on the Ballet Master, from whom she was receiving 
 the instructions necessary to qualify her for the part of Prima 
 Ballerina ; and seeing she was beautiful, I believed she was good, 
 and had therefore no hesitation about her. 
 
 When the business of the morning was concluded I generally 
 accompanied her home, spending hours in that soft dalliance which 
 takes place between those who love and believe themselves beloved. 
 I loved her with all the ardour of a first passion ; and there is a 
 purity in the first love of a boy, ere the lip is clothed with the 
 early down of manhood, or the heart seared by contact with a rude 
 and unfeeling world, which elevates our nature above itself, 
 robbing it of all its baser passions—and this once lost is never 
 regained. The purity of first love never again returns to us—the 
 early freshness of our thoughts once sullied, is sullied for ever; 
 and we grovel on, cherishing a mixture of admiration and passion, 
 and endeavouring, but in vain, to cheat ourselves into the belief 
 that it is love. Such has ever been the case with me: “other 
 arms have pressed me, other forms caressed me but this, my 
 early passion, was indulged without one thought of the future, one 
 dream of its termination. And yet, while hugging myself with its 
 continuance, it suddenly received a shock—the illusive veil was 
 rudely torn aside—the whole current of my love was checked, 
 and my feelings were stunned by a blow, the remembrance of 
 which has never passed away. 
 
 Weeks of this pure intercourse had passed, during which my 
 love burnt with an intensity none the less that it was unopposed. 
 
8 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OE 
 
 I loved and was beloved, enchanting thought. What was the 
 world to me, no feeling of doubt or jealousy had crossed my 
 mind, until she earnestly entreated me to abstain from attending 
 her from the rehearsal, preferring to go home alone, and to 
 receive my visits on such evenings as she was not engaged at the 
 Ballet. Fell dissembler ! So well did she conceal her real 
 motives, so plausibly did she gloss over the true cause, that, 
 jealous as it made me, I was fain to consent, little thinking that 
 all her love was pretence, and that even at that moment she had 
 accepted the protection of another, who was in the habit of 
 visiting her every day on her return from the theatre. 
 
 This I afterwards discovered to be the case, and hearing by 
 accident, that, occasionally in an evening, when she had professed 
 to be too ill to entertain me, some one else had been admitted, 
 rage and jealousy took possession of me, and, though I knew not 
 the name of my rival, I determined on being revenged. 
 
 This resolution filled up the whole current of my thoughts, I 
 was restless and unhappy, never still nor satisfied ; 
 
 “ For, oh, what damned moments tells he o’er, 
 
 Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves.” 
 
 And I was bent on being convinced, to which end I laid a plot, 
 which succeeded but too well, for, alas ! to its success the whole 
 of my misfortunes in after life may be attributed. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 % 
 
 THE CONFIRMATION. 
 
 “ I’ll see before T doubt; when 1 doubt,prove ; 
 
 And, on the proof, there is no more but this— 
 
 Away at once with love or jealousy.” 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I have said I was resolved to satisfy my doubts, and to enable 
 me to do this, one evening, when she was not to be engaged at the 
 theatre, I sent word that I was ill, and waiting till night came on, 
 I threw my cloak around me, and repaired to her residence. 
 This was situated in an old palace, long since abandoned by its 
 noble possessors, and now degraded by being let in floors as 
 lodgings, a fate to which many of the noblest edifices in this 
 country have been obliged to submit. Passing through the outer 
 door, you ascended a flight of steps into a long corridor, very 
 feebly lighted by a single window placed near the entrance, and at 
 the other extremity was a door leading to my lady’s apartments, 
 towards which I stealthily advanced, completely concealed by the 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 9 
 
 gloom by which I was surrounded ; I heard voices in the room, 
 one of which I plainly perceived was that of a man, and all the 
 demoniac passions of our nature rising in my bosom, I pictured to 
 myself my rival occupying the place I had fondly believed reserved 
 for me alone. These thoughts quickly gave place to others ; “ and 
 now, said I, for revenge ; yes, caitiff thief, that steals men’s mis¬ 
 tresses, here you shall meet your reward.” Drawing my sword, a 
 weapon without which, even at that early age, I never left my 
 home, I retired a little from the door, while the advancing hours of 
 night rendered my concealment the more secure ; in a short time 
 the door was cautiously opened, and some one prepared to go 
 forth; but having taken the precaution to conceal the light ere 
 they parted, I could not distinguish who it was, though the 
 weight of the footstep pronounced him to be a man. 1 have often 
 wondered what restrained my hand,—why I did notrush forward 
 and immolate both on the spot ; perhaps some feeling of tender¬ 
 ness kept me back, and it was not till she had wished him good 
 night, accompanied as 1 thought by an audible mark of affection 
 due only to myself, and the door was closed upon him, that 
 I remembered the errand upon which I had set out. He paused 
 a moment ere he turned to quit the place, and in less time than I 
 have taken to relate it, I cautiously advanced, pricking the opposite 
 wall with the point of my weapon. 
 
 Little dreaming of what was in store for him, my rival had made 
 one step in advance, when I struck something which I knew was 
 much too soft to be the wall; he immediately drew his sword, but 
 before he could defend himself I made a lunge, and, throwing 
 my whole force upon the blow, drove the weapon through his 
 body. Before I had time to repeat the attack, he uttered a loud 
 cry, and thoroughly affrighted at what I had done, I turned and 
 fled the road I had come, and was not many minutes in regaining 
 my mother’s abode : here my worst fears were confirmed by 
 observing blood upon my sword, and I began to contemplate 
 myself in the character of a murderer, a feeling not lessened by 
 the intelligence of my brother, who, coming in soon after, told us 
 
 that General - had been stabbed near the Pallazzo of the 
 
 Ballerina, and that the police were in search of his assailant. 
 
 Though my rage had in some measure cooled, I can well 
 remember the effect of this announcement. One moment I re¬ 
 solved to give myself up to the police, denouncing the general as 
 the destroyer of my peace; the next I determined to seek the 
 faithless fair one, and immolate her upon the spot, a just sacrifice 
 to my outraged affections. By degrees, however, this tempest 
 subsided, and fear got the better of all other feelings ; for knowing 
 how powerfully my adversary was connected, I abandoned all 
 thoughts of revenge, and began to consider what was necessary 
 to be done for my own safety, not doubting that her ladyship 
 i would suspect me, and feel little pain in denouncing the delinquent; 
 and I must thus inevitably fall a victim to my own impetuosity 
 
10 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Alarm, or perhaps shame, prevented my consulting my friends ; 
 and my mother being absent from home, and knowing nothing of 
 my attachment, I decided on flight; collecting a small bundle of 
 clothes and such superfluous cash as I could lay my hands upon, 
 I threw myself on the bed, determined to quit the city with the 
 earliest dawn. 
 
 Great, I was aware, was the sacrifice 1 was about to make, but I 
 thought it my wisest course; for as every kind of duel was at this 
 period forbidden on pain of death, I had little hope of being 
 forgiven for this encounter, which the malice of my enemies might 
 have construed into an attempt at assassination ; and the police 
 had recently so much improved in efficiency, that there was little 
 chance of concealment by remaining in Turin. 
 
 “ Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute” says the proverb; and 
 on the morrow morning, at break of day, I sallied forth from the 
 city, a fishing rod in my hand, the better to conceal my object, 
 and passing through the Porta d’ Italia, I took the road to Milan, 
 my heart more heavily oppressed with care than my pockets with 
 coin. Still I trudged on without a passport or paper of any kind, 
 with my knapsack at my back ; and the greater the distance I 
 placed between my late abode and myself, the more buoyant my 
 spirits became ; until on arriving at Novara without pursuit, I 
 stopped to refresh myself, and reached the city of Milan on the 
 second day, taking up my abode at the Hotel of the Two 
 Fountains. 
 
 I was now my own master, lord of that barren heritage, myself 
 —launched on the wide world without compass or rudder—free to 
 come and go as I pleased—and this I miscalled liberty—yet was I 
 still a slave—slave to a passion for a dishonoured woman. ' But I 
 had visions of a life of pleasure, and true it is that “ la volupte 
 sacrijie Vavenir aupresent,” for I entered into all the amusements 
 of this enchanting city without thinking what was to be my future 
 destinjq or how my purse was to be refilled when its contents had 
 disappeared. From the cafe to the theatre—from the theatre to 
 the bal-masque, for it was the time of the carnival, and masquerades 
 were not then the poor tame things they have since become, one 
 half of the company government spies, and the other half their 
 victims—I wandered on till enjoyment produced satiety, and I 
 began to long again for my quiet home ; when one morning, 
 while standing on the steps of the hotel, musing as to what might 
 be my future fate, a carriage drove into the court yard, out of 
 which stepped the cause of all my misfortunes. Yes, here in 
 truth she was, and, quickly recognizing her victim, she uttered a 
 loud cry and threw herself into my arms. Fool that I was—the 
 situation was too embarrassing, so instead of depositing her on the 
 steps, and coolly wishing her good morning, I found my whole 
 heart yearn towards her, and forgetting all the past drew her 
 gently into my room, and laid her on the couch. 
 
 The fountains of her eyes were opened, and after a passionate 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, 
 
 11 
 
 flood of tears, her faint, for such it was in every sense of the 
 word, went off, and she poured forth a volley of congratulations 
 at my recovery—of her poignant regrets at my departure, assuring 
 me that however appearances might be against her, they were 
 entirely false, and she was, as she had ever been, wholly and solely 
 mine. To my enquiries about the General she replied, that he had 
 been seriously wounded but was likely to recover ; and that 
 having no suspicion by whom he had been attacked, no search 
 had been made for me, nor any proceedings commenced against 
 me. 1 was therefore free to return ; and my mother, who was 
 inconsolable at my absence, had spared no pains to discover the 
 place of my retreat; “but,” added the temptress, “what washer 
 loss compared to mine; the instinct of true love guided my footsteps, 
 and I have happily succeeded in a search which would have 
 ended only with my life.” Oh ! thou invincible spirit of mischief, 
 woman, though thou be’est a very devil, yet do we love thee still. 
 In truth, she had no more idea of seeking me than had our holy 
 father, the Pope, but had come to Milan to fulfil an engagement 
 at one of the theatres, for, as the Carnival terminates a week 
 sooner at Turin than at the former city, it was no unusual thing 
 for the performers to come over there to finish the season. I knew 
 not this, so I listened to all she said ; and blinded by my passion 
 believed her asseverations of purity, and was persuaded that to 
 leave her was to sacrifice a faithful heart that lived only in my 
 smiles ; and this pretty tale, told with the most inimitable grace, 
 would have had its effect on a less susceptible nature than mine, 
 I was not the first the sex had betrayed, I cannot flatter myself 
 with the hope that I shall be the last; and with her, success was 
 certain, for how could I doubt the sacrifice she boasted of having 
 made to follow me—her protestations of unalterable love—or her 
 fixed determination to devote her whole life to obliterate the 
 traces of her apparent inconstancy. The train was too well laid; 
 the snare too carefully prepared ; can you wonder I was caught, 
 and that I but faintly opposed her proposition that we should 
 consider ourselves as married, and while she pursued her vocation 
 at the Theatre Carcano, I should continue to attend the school of 
 dancing, leading, for the rest of the day, that “ clolce far niente* 
 kind of life into which I had fallen, and which seemed only 
 likely to be cloying with too much sweet. 
 
12 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OP 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 “ As the most forward bud 
 Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, 
 
 Even so by love the young and tender wit 
 Is turn’d to folly ; blasting in the bud, 
 
 Losing his verdure even in the prime, 
 
 And all the fair effects of future hopes.” 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Unfortunate as was the termination of my short sojourn in 
 Milan, 1 never recur to it with feelings of regret ; for if amid the 
 scenes of gaiety and pleasure the heart does sometimes forget its 
 former cherished affections, and, abandoning itself to the present, 
 cease to feel for the past, we are as supremely happy as we can 
 hope to be under any circumstances. You, signor, who in sober 
 manhood have visited this enchanting city, and beheld the scenes 
 I will not endeavour to describe, can well believe the feelings 
 of awe and delight with which I contemplated the glittering 
 pinnacles of the Duomo, glowing in the warm sunset of an 
 autumnal evening, or in the bright effulgence of the glorious orb 
 of night. They thrill through the frame with a delight we strive 
 in vain to account for, and leave an impression which a constant 
 friction through after scenes may lessen, but cannot wholly 
 obliterate. If, after having beheld the Cathedrals of St. Paul and 
 Notre Dame, you could say that it was the first architectural 
 pile you had seen in which the reality far exceeded the expectation, 
 how much more intense must have been the sensations produced 
 on one who had never looked on any thing superior to the Cathedral 
 of St. John, at Turin. Viewed in the silvery light of the moon, 
 the thousand statues casting their long shadows over the adjoining 
 piazza; the effect was enchanting, and but for an incident that 
 occurred the first evening I so contemplated it, the effect would 
 have been one of unmixed pleasure. On that occasion the moon 
 was at the full, and as 1 stood with my back towards the palace 
 in which the Archduke now resides, a solitary wanderer passed 
 near me, whose receding figure was quickly lost in the shade of 
 the building ; a bustling of feet and a sharp cry succeeded, and 
 hastening to the spot, I found that an assassin had just plunged 
 his stiletto into the bosom of the passer-by. Alas ! that man, 
 under the very image of the Saviour, and shadowed by the temple 
 raised to his glory, should thus brand himself with the mark of 
 Cain, and yet, how nearly had I escaped a similar infliction. It 
 was a lesson I have never forgotten. 
 
 i wandered through the marble aisles of this noble pile, and 
 sad but salutary were my reflections. The murderer had escaped. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 13 
 
 but his victim was taken up by the police, and conveyed to the 
 Ospedale Maggiore, where in a few hours he breathed his last, 
 and no search was ever made after his destroyer. To those who 
 live in countries where the supremacy of the law is maintained, and 
 crimes of any magnitude seldom go undetected and unpunished, 
 it no doubt appears strange that in Italy we set little store by 
 human life, and yet the penalty of death would have followed dis- 
 discovery, but no efforts were made, and in the course of a few 
 days the event was forgotten. Near to the spot where I saw this 
 poor fellow meet his early doom, I once encountered a man wlio 
 begged piteously and abjectly for alms. Surprised at the unusual 
 occurrence, I enquired into his case, and found that his brother, 
 in an accidental affray with the police, had had the misfortune to 
 kill one of them. He was taken, and thrown into prison, from 
 which there was no chance of escape, save by the scaffold, unless 
 he could raise money enough to purchase a substitute, who, by 
 tilling the dead man’s place in the ranks, would relieve the govern¬ 
 ment from the embarrassment caused by the loss of their officer. 
 Stfange justice thought I, fully carrying out the opinion I have 
 long entertained, that hanging is the worst use you can make of 
 a man. 
 
 I never passed the Duomo afterwards without offering up a 
 prayer of gratitude and thanksgiving to the Giver of all Good, 
 that my conscience was spared the maddening blo’t, and such was 
 the effect produced upon me that on returning home at night from 
 the theatre, I constantly made a long detour rather than pass 
 through the Piazza del Duomo. 
 
 I know not how long the kind of life I was at this time leading 
 might have lasted, had its termination depended upon myself, 
 for every day I seemed more and more satisfied with it. It was 
 however suddenly brought to a close, for one night, on our return 
 home from the theatre, my cara sposa, for such I considered her, 
 asked permission to be absent for three days, for the purpose of 
 visiting a 6ister then lying at the point of death at Brescia, to the 
 theatre of which town she was attached as a Ballerina. 
 
 Little suspecting the real motive, I could not refuse so reasonable 
 a request, and as the conveyance by which she proposed to go 
 started at a very early hour in the morning, I retired to rest while 
 she busied herself with preparations for the journey. The morrow 
 came, and she arose and dressed herself, taking care to disturb 
 me as little as possible, and wishing her safe back again, I turned 
 drowsily in my bed and once more resigned myself to the influence 
 of the place. Since we had lived together I had exercised little 
 authority over the purse, and our common stock, composed of the 
 remainder of the money I had brought from home, and a trifling 
 sum saved from her salary, was deposited in an old secretaire 
 which occupied a prominent place among the scanty furniture of 
 our sitting room. When I arose, you may judge my surprise at 
 finding that the whole had been abstracted, and though it was 
 
 c 
 
 
14 
 
 SCENES IN THE LITE OF 
 
 some time before l could satisfy myself of the fact, I became at 
 last convinced that the illness of her sister was a ruse, that she 
 had again played me false and abandoned me, having possessed 
 herself of every farthing I had in the world, together with such 
 articles of my wardrobe as she could lay her hands on. Money, 
 clothes, and watch were gone, and as I stood by the empty 
 secretaire, at last fully alive to my own helpless situation, I gnashed 
 my teeth, and tore my hair for very vexation at finding how I had 
 been duped. Here was I in the very position I had sometimes 
 dreaded, but never contemplated. 1 was a beggar in a strange 
 place, far from relief by my friends. But my rage was of little 
 avail. I could not return to Turin; pride forbad an application 
 to my mother, so I sallied forth to beg or steal as I best could, 
 wherewith to break my fast, and bending my steps to the theatre, 
 luckily found that two nights salary to my betrayer still remained 
 unpaid, and having obtained possession of it, I adjourned with 
 one of .the performers to a coffee-house, and there deliberated on 
 my future prospects. My credulity had been fairly but severely 
 punished, and I was rather an object of ridicule than of com¬ 
 miseration. My own exertions were my only resources, and they. 
 Heaven knows, were feeble enough, since I had been brought up 
 to no profession, and had no ostensible means of earning a 
 subsistence. 
 
 There was, however, no use in praying to Hercules, so addressing 
 myself to a theatrical agent, I received an offer of a situation at 
 the theatre at Crema, a little town about twenty miles from Milan, 
 and if to my connection with the stage I ascribed all my misfor¬ 
 tunes, 1 was in the end dependent on it for support. Necessity 
 overcame pride, and hunger, the most powerful of impulses, 
 induced me again to shoulder my knapsack, most grievously 
 lessened in weight by my sojourn in Milan, and once more to 
 betake myself to the road. 
 
 Hitherto I had danced for my own gratification, I was now 
 about to do so for the amusement of others; and, I must confess, 
 that at first the novelty of my position in some measure impeded 
 my efforts ; by degrees, however, this wore off, and I soon became 
 sensibly alive to the wretchedness of my situation, to which, as 
 there was no relief, I submitted with as good a grace as I could. 
 
 From the theatre at Crema 1 went to that of Lodi, and from 
 thence to Alexandrie de la Faille. 
 
 I must confess, that on re-entering my native country I felt 
 some qualms of fear lest 1 should be discovered, and for the first 
 time 1 dropped my patronymic, and appeared under an alias, 
 assuming the name by which I am now known. 
 
 My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, but never, while 
 memory exists, shall I forget my first appearance on this stage, for 
 there in form as tangible as form could be, I saw, on the first 
 representation, the very woman who had been my ruin. My first 
 impulse was to seize her on the stage, and hurl her over the foot- 
 
A SOfcDIEll OF FORTUNE. 
 
 1 0 
 
 lights into the orchestra, but reflection convinced me that her 
 position here was much more favourable than my own, and 
 consequently I must go to the wall, I therefore mastered my 
 passion, and was compelled, in spite of my disgust, not only to 
 dance in the same ballet with her, but even to take her hand. 
 
 On the morrow morning she sent for me, and attempted an 
 explanation, begging me to return to our former intercourse, but 
 her arts were of no avail, I resolutely declined any further 
 intimacy with her, and heartily rejoiced when the termination of 
 my engagement enabled rue to depart, and commence another at 
 Verona. 
 
 CIIAP. V. 
 
 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 Ceux la’ lie sont pas les plus mallieureux qui 
 Se plaignent le plus. 
 
 Notwithstanding my hard fate, my spirits were not much de¬ 
 pressed, and I once more turned my back upon my native country 
 and the faithless woman who had been the cause of all my mis¬ 
 fortunes, and journeyed on to Verona, a city celebrated by your 
 immortal poet as the residence of that pair of hapless lovers, Romeo 
 and Juliet. 
 
 At this period it was occupied by the Austrian troops, part of 
 the army of General Wurmser, who was fast advancing to the 
 relief of Mantua, then closely besieged by the French. 
 
 In the ranks of the Austrians were many of my compatriots, 
 who hastened to join the only nation that seemed likely to make 
 head against the overwhelming power of France; and though 
 I ran some little risk of discovery, I considered my change of ap¬ 
 pearance, added to the alteration of my name, a sufficient safe¬ 
 guard. Such, as will be seen in the sequel, did not prove to be 
 the fact. 
 
 Sometime before I left Turin, I had been intimate with, and re¬ 
 ceived repeated acts of kindness from, an officer in the Pied¬ 
 montese cavalry, and had given him a magnificent French poodle 
 dog, bred by myself, and much petted for the tricks he had learnt, 
 and his great devotion to his master. It was the latter cause 
 indeed which induced me to part with him, for from his con¬ 
 stant habit of following me, he occasionally gave more informa¬ 
 tion of my whereabouts than was altogether agreeable. 
 
 On my making my bow to the audience, the first night of my 
 appearance, who should I behold in the stage-box, staring me 
 
 c 2 
 
16 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 full in the face, as if it were a countenance of which he had a 
 confused recollection, but that memory had not fully decided 
 that he had seen me before, but the identical officer to whom I 
 had given the dog, and though I was considerably embarrassed 
 by the recognition, which was instant on my part, yet his 
 apparent uncertainty gave me hopes that I should still be able to 
 preserve my incognito. To this end, I shrunk back from the 
 foot-lights; and when abroad in the city, avoided every oppor¬ 
 tunity of meeting him, and although he came frequently to the 
 theatre, and discovered, and called at my lodgings, I had ever 
 the good fortune to miss him. Things went on in this way for 
 some time, when my friend, somewhat nettled at my pertinacious 
 avoidance of him, and becoming more and more convinced of 
 my identity, resolved to satisfy himself, and as I seemed insensible 
 of human feelings, he called to his aid those of his dog Bruno. 
 Ensconcing himself in the rear of the box, the front seats of 
 which were filled by some of his comrades, who were unknown 
 to me, he patiently waited till the end of the ballet, in which I 
 fancied I had acquitted myself with more than my usual success, 
 having been vociferously applauded by the officers; I was there¬ 
 fore not greatly surprised at receiving an invitation to their box, 
 a circumstance by no means uncommon when they wished to ex¬ 
 press to an actor, in person, the satisfaction they felt at his per¬ 
 formance. Little suspecting that this was but part and parcel of 
 a plan, or the scene that was prepared in which I was to play such 
 prominent figure, I hurried forward to receive the compliments I 
 flattered myself were my due, and the moment I entered the 
 loge, Bruno, who till then had been lying on the floor at the 
 foot of my friend, uttered a low whine, and springing upon me, 
 satisfied his owner that his suspicions were correct. “ Down, 
 Bruno,” completed the discovery; for how, if I were a stranger, 
 as I asserted I was, had 1 become acquainted with the name of 
 the animal ? 
 
 Further disguise was useless, and I at once accompanied my 
 friend to his lodgings, where 1 threw myself on his generosity, 
 and in spite of all his offers and entreaties to the contrary, I 
 determined to persevere in the line I had chalked out for myself. 
 
 In this I was confirmed by the tidings he gave me of my family. 
 My poor mother had taken my loss so much to heart that it had 
 brought her grey hairs with sorrow to the grave; whilst my 
 uncle, a cold, austere man, who always disliked me, and, as dis¬ 
 likes are apt to be reciprocal, to whom I bore no good will, had 
 taken possession of our patrimony, and sent my brothers and 
 sisters to school. In vain did my friend represent to me the 
 degradation of my situation—in vain did he paint in glowing 
 colours the happiness and gaiety of a soldier’s life—my hour 
 was not yet come ; and in a few days we parted, he to follow his 
 fortunes in the service of Mars, while I still remained servitor of 
 Terpsichore. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 17 
 
 Wurmser, who had lately been defeated in a general engage¬ 
 ment, now hazarded a second, which was attended by a like 
 result; and Alvinzi, who succeeded to the command, immediately 
 broke up his quarters at Verona, and the army prepared to ad¬ 
 vance. Thus my friend and I were parted, never to meet again ; 
 and thus another of the ties that bound me to my country was 
 severed. 
 
 During my residence in Verona I had the felicity to acquire the 
 friendship of the Marchese Giustiniana, a worthy scion of that 
 noble stock from which, in former years, the ducal chair at Veniec 
 was frequently filled, with equal honour to the occupant and 
 advantage to the country. This young nobleman had been 
 married to a beautiful countrywoman about two years ‘previous 
 to the period of which I speak, and a little boy had been born to 
 them—a pledge of love quite idolized by his parents. One 
 morning, as I was standing at my window in Veronetta (the 
 name given to the smaller portion of the city, which is divided 
 into two unequal portions by the Adige), contemplating that rapid 
 river, now much swollen by the late rains, I beheld a nurse-maid 
 standing on the steps of the Palazzo Giustiniana, dangling in her 
 arms the infant heir of that noble house—a line, lively boy, 
 apparently about nine months old. The laughing efforts of the 
 child, and pleased appearance of his nurse, particularly attracted 
 my attention, till at last I heard a loud scream, and saw the hapless 
 infant floating down the stream. To doff my upper garments and 
 plunge into the water was but the work of an instant, and I 
 rose to the surface to battle with a current that every moment 
 seemed to threaten me with annihilation ; but 1 struggled on man¬ 
 fully, and, by giving way to it in some degree, I succeeded in 
 grasping the terrified infant, and, bearing him in my hand as I 
 best could, made for the shore with my prize. 
 
 How little did I think at that moment of the parents, how 
 little heed what rank they bore whose unconscious offspring I had 
 thus rescued from the jaws of death. The impulse was one of 
 humanity, sudden as impulses generally are. And after changing 
 my clothes, and arraying my recovered treasure in some dry 
 things belonging to a child of my landlady, I stepped into a boat 
 and crossed the river to the palace. 
 
 The scene that here met my view was one of the most heart¬ 
 rending I had ever witnessed; for the Marchesa, sensible only 
 of the loss of her child, had been in strong hysterics ever since, 
 while her lord, the mute image of despair, was bending over her, 
 endeavouring to look the consolation his lips denied him the 
 power to utter. The servant girl, who had left the steps the 
 moment the accident occurred in the hope of finding some one who 
 could rescue her darling, stood with uplifted eyes, and hands 
 convulsively clasped together, a fitting representation of the 
 bereaved mother, whose statue in the Gallery at Florence has 
 enchanted half the world. I entered almost unnoticed until my 
 
 c 3 
 
18 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 little burden uttered a scream of joy, and held out its tiny hands 
 towards his unconscious parents. It was like the convent bell to 
 the weary pilgrim—the sound of peace and hope; and clasping 
 the boy to her bosom, the Marchesa seemed at once restored to 
 reason. 
 
 From that hour I became an especial favourite with both father 
 and mother; the former insisting on being acquainted with my 
 history, the latter lavishing on me every kindness that a grateful 
 heart could dictate. 
 
 Till then I had never felt the degradation of my situation, 
 though I had long been fully alive to its miseries ; none other 
 offered itself, and I was forced to finish my engagement in 
 Verona,without having determined to abandon the stage, or formed 
 any settled plan for the future. 
 
 At last it was concluded, the theatre closed, and my kind friends, 
 with solid remembrances and fervent prayers for my happiness, 
 bade me adieu, and I went to Ravenna. 
 
 During the last few months the aspect of affairs had changed. 
 Wurmser and Alvinzi, foiled in their attempts to relieve Mantua, 
 which was still closely invested by the French, had again retired 
 upon the Adige. The winter had commenced. Unabated vigour 
 was displayed by both armies, and so unsettled was the whole 
 north of Italy, that on my arrival at Ravenna I found the director 
 had abandoned the speculation as hopeless, and that the theatre 
 had been.prematurely closed. 
 
 I was again without employment, and turning my steps north¬ 
 ward, I by chance fell in with an officer of the French army, 
 and by him was persuaded to join its ranks. With the same 
 recklessness and precipitation I had before displayed, I accepted 
 his offer, and took service in his regiment as a volunteer. Here 
 a new career was opened me. I had abandoned the mimic stage 
 to occupy a part on the grand theatre of war, and hastening with 
 my companion to join the division of the army to which he was 
 attached, in a few days I found myself in the environs of Mantua, 
 forming part of the force by which it had been so long invested, 
 and the commander of which declared he would leave behind 
 him in the trenches ere he would raise the siege. 
 
 And truly he kept his word, for though day after day as many 
 men fell from fatigue as from the fire of the enemy, he never for 
 one instant relented ; others supplied their places, and the work 
 of destruction proceeded as before. But let me not anticipate. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, 
 
 19 
 
 CHAP, VI. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF MANTUA. 
 
 “ While death and horrid carnage stalk 
 In each man’s path, by each man’s side; 
 
 Still onward moves the gallant band, 
 
 No ling’ring fear arrests them now, 
 
 Lo ! in the deadly breach they stand, 
 
 Determination on each brow.— Anon. 
 
 Henceforth my career was to be one of glory , for although 
 I may have been said to be in arms against my native country, 
 I considered that I had abandoned her and become cosmopolitan. 
 As a citizen of the world, I entered the ranks of the army of 
 France, and although so young, I considered myself the soldier 
 of liberty, and felt a love of glory mount in my bosom, a feeling 
 to which it had hitherto been a stranger. I was now under the 
 command of the “ Little Corporal,” and formed part and parcel 
 of that army which had already won for itself the admiration “of 
 the world—I was a portion of that living machine which, once 
 set in motion by the master-mind of Napoleon, overcame all ob¬ 
 stacles, and engaged but to conquer. 
 
 I had taken an irrevocable step—one from which there was no 
 retreat—and was now a renegade, not indeed to my religion, for 
 our holy father, the Pope, having long since declared all con¬ 
 nected with the stage as without the pale of the church, we, on 
 our parts, had made no efforts to remove the interdiction, but 
 by our conduct proclaimed that we had nothing whatever to do 
 with religion. In truth, I professed none; I despised alike all 
 sects and denominations ; and lived on in this world, as if all 
 were to end here and there were no hereafter. 
 
 But if our own faults alone ought to make us unhappy, I was 
 conscious of none, and therefore felt no remorse, for however the 
 vain boaster may affect to despise what he calls the trammels 
 of religion and the faith which other men profess ; if the founda¬ 
 tions of education be based upon it, the edifice may totter, but it 
 never falls prostrate : the early lessons return upon us when we 
 least expect them, proving that although the impression may be 
 defaced, it is not wholly obliterated. This, however, was not my 
 case; and in the dreary solitude of a prison I have since become 
 acquainted with a merciful Creator, and learned to adore that 
 Benevolence whose right hand is stretched out to protect the 
 meanest of His creatures; yet at this period of my career I lived 
 as if none such existed. My spiritual education had been neglected 
 even more than my temporal one; and thus, without one feeling 
 j of compunction, I became a renegade to my country, a traitor to 
 my fatherland, and joining the ranks of her enemies, employed 
 
20 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 
 thbse arms against lier which should have been wielded in her 
 defence. 
 
 Yet conscience, that doth make cowards of us all, exerted no 
 influence on me, my step was firm and elastic, my laugh joyous 
 and free, and I entered on the duties of a soldier, with all the 
 ardour of a young mind pursuing its first passion, and though 
 at times the memory of the green fields I saw destroyed, the trees 
 and shrubs uprooted, and all the ornaments and beauties of the 
 earth trampled upon and reduced to min, exhibiting a prospect 
 naked and bare, and presenting to the eye mud and stones and 
 sand; came across me and saddened my heart: when I beheld the 
 country as it was, and remembered what it had been, vivified by 
 nature—clad as it were in a nuptial garment, and unfolding to our 
 gaze a scene of which the eye was never weary—the heart never 
 sick—I did at times shudder, and, despising the gaudy trappings 
 of the soldier, sigh again for peace. 
 
 There are few—however happy may have been their youth, 
 however glorious their career—who would willingly live over 
 again all their early scenes; for, although the brilliancy of suc¬ 
 cess may in some measure compensate for the misery it entails, 
 yet would we not wish it repeated. How few are there who have 
 stood in the deadly breach, waiting for the word to advance, who 
 have not recalled to their minds the desolate hearths they have 
 witnessed—the many martyrs they have seen fall before the shrine 
 of glory. 
 
 Although the details of the siege of Mantua belong more pro¬ 
 perly to the historian, 1 must, with the view of rendering myself 
 better understood, say a few words relative to the position of the 
 contending armies prior to the time at which I joined that of the 
 French. 
 
 Mantua had been invested as early as May in the preceding 
 year, but the advance of Wurmser had in part been crowned with 
 success, for although he had been twice defeated, and a new 
 general, in the person of Alvinzi, had succeeded to the command, 
 yet the siege had been raised on the 23d of July. 
 
 Scarcely had the ravages of the enemy been repaired, and the 
 place re-provisioned, than Wurmser, who had beaten Murat and 
 Pijeou, at Corea, on the 12th of September, and by the merest 
 accident failed in the capture of Napoleon, now pressed on, and, 
 foiled in his attempt to unite his forces with Alvinzi, cut to 
 pieces a body of French horse by which he was opposed, and 
 threw himself into the suburb of S. Giorgio. By this he hoped 
 to be able to maintain his communication with the surrounding 
 country, and thus supply himself with provisions and forage. 
 
 His position was, however, much too favourable to allow of his 
 retaining it undisturbed ; and after a severe and bloody struggle, in 
 which many men fell on both sides, he was compelled to retire 
 within the walls of Mantua. 
 
 In the character of the veteran Austrian there was a sufficient 
 
21 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 guarantee that the reduction of this stronghold would be no easy 
 affair; and all that human ingenuity could suggest, or human 
 efforts effect, had been done to prolong the struggle. Sortie 
 after sortie had been made and repulsed, every attempt at relief 
 had been frustrated, yet still the heroic Wurmser held out, declaring 
 that he would bury himself in the ruins rather than capitulate. 
 
 Matters were in this state when I joined the blockading force, 
 then under the command of Serrurier, and notwithstanding the 
 nights were cold and frosty, and a light covering of snow obscured 
 the face of nature, the men were employed in the trenches without 
 intermission; and as party after party relieved each other, the 
 work went steadily on, while each battery, as soon as it was com¬ 
 pleted, opened upon the devoted city. 
 
 Provera, who had attempted its relief, and failed, managed to 
 communicate with Wurmser, and together they planned measures 
 for his assistance, when suddenly Napoleon, who had just won 
 the bloody field of Rivoli, arrived at Roverbella, a few miles from 
 Mantua. He attacked Provera, drove the garrison, which had 
 sallied out to his assistance, again within the walls,and prepared to 
 prosecute the siege with redoubled ardour. 
 
 As yet I had played no part in the game of war, for, steadily 
 employed in acquiring my drill, my position as a volunteer 
 prevented my accompanying the troops to work in the trenches. 
 And thus a month passed on. 
 
 Mantua is situated on an islet at the extremity of a small lake, 
 which seems to have been formed by the sudden widening of the 
 banks of the Mincio, that river flowing through the town and 
 dividing it into two nearly equal parts. These were connected by 
 five or six bridges, the principal one, the Ponte di Molini, being 
 defended by the two citadels, and the Ponte di S. Giorgio strongly 
 fortified at either end. Both portions of the town were surrounded 
 by a wide and deep fosse, filled by the waters of the Mincio, and 
 lined on the inner side by a high and massive wall, from the 
 embrasures of which projected the brazen mouths of hundreds of 
 cannon, which hurled destruction on many of our men as they 
 pursued their work in the trenches. 
 
 Still the work went bravely on,—our batteries answering the 
 challenge, and the heavy boom of the cannon, now and then 
 interrupted by a sharp fire of musketry, was ringing constantly 
 in our ears ; but our leader persevered, and as parallel after 
 parallel was completed, till at last our nearest work approached 
 within point blank range, none doubted the result, and we kept 
 hammering away at the massive wall without intermission. 
 Occasionally shells and rockets were thrown into the town, but 
 these seemed only an episode in the grand drama; for, with the 
 dogged perseverance for which our commander afterwards became 
 so celebrated, we kept battering away, nothing seeming to divert 
 him from the main point—that of effecting a breach. 
 
 At length we succeeded, and as stone after stone came tumbling 
 
22 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 down from the effects of our shot, we began to make up our minds 
 that it would soon be fit to be stormed, and nature having already 
 provided us with an icy bridge over the ditch, every thing was 
 prepared for the dreaded moment. 
 
 At last it came, the engineers reported the breach practicable, 
 and the storming party was selected, and I have often felt surprised 
 that it was composed principally of recruits—volunteers like 
 my-self—determined to earn their first laurels in the most dan¬ 
 gerous of enterprizes. We were to be led by an old veteran from 
 the 10th regiment of the line, one who had before performed 
 prodigies of valour, and whose coolness and courage on more 
 than one similar occasion, were taken as the prestige of success. 
 
 How I envied the gallant fellow the medal that hung on 
 his breast, and resolved to win such an one or perish in the 
 attempt; but these feelings gave place to others, as taking my 
 position on the right of the leading file, I marched slowly down 
 to the edge of the ice. No word was spoken, no sound broke the 
 stillness of the night, save the hurried breathing and audible 
 beating of the heart in many a bosom where, in a few short hours, 
 it would be still for ever, and the slow and measured tread of our 
 devoted band as it advanced. It was dark as night could well 
 be,when the ground is covered with snow, and all around seemed 
 still and calm as that death to which so many of us were hurrying. 
 
 We were already on the ice when the guns from the walls opened 
 their fire; and as rocket after rocket illumined the sky, and 
 rendered our position apparent, a withering fire of musketry 
 mowed down our ranks, and the leading files hesitated to advance, 
 when a dee]), full voice, whose tones I had never before heard, 
 but which afterwards became familiar as household words to 
 my ear, arrested my attention. “ Courage, soldats, tenez ferme,” 
 were the words it uttered, and confidence seemed suddenly 
 restored. He, the child of Victory, was there directing our 
 movements, and as our batteries replied to the thunder of our 
 enemies, the word forward was again given, and rushing madly 
 across the moat, we dashed at the breach. Still at times the music 
 of that deep, full voice, now hushed in death, comes over my 
 memory, and recals to my mind the electric shock that seemed 
 to thrill through every muscle, on my becoming aware of the 
 presence of him whom I believed miles off, snugly ensconced in 
 his tent; every man seemed animated by the same thought 
 that, as he stood upon the edge of the moat, his eagle eye could 
 pierce the ranks of strife, and mark the road we took. We fought 
 like incarnate devils, and though a murdering fire of musketry 
 mowed down our ranks, and despatched many a gallant fellow 
 to his last account, others quickly supplied his place ; no thought 
 of retreat came across our minds, we were pledged to death or 
 victory. 
 
 Our path was impeded by the dead and the dying, and as 
 volley after volley added to the carnage, I, as yet unscathed, 
 
A SOLDIER OI< FORTUNE. 
 
 23 
 
 pressed forward, urged on by those in the rear, all equally eager 
 to be first in the town. At last as my foot rested upon the 
 breach, the discharge of one of the guns lighting for an instant the 
 surrounding gloom, discovered to my eyes the open space beyond 
 the wall, defended by the bristling bayonets of the enemy, 
 whose front seemed firm and unbroken, and whom we had pressed 
 forward thus far to conquer or to die. “ Forward ! ” was still the 
 cry ; the crash of musketry and the heavy booming of the great 
 guns were lulled into temporary repose, when as I made good my 
 footing in the street, surrounded by my comrades, all equally 
 anxious, a well directed fire of grape swept away the force before 
 us, wounding many of our own men, and scattering death and 
 destruction around. Many of our best men here bit the dust, 
 but still we advanced, till driving the enemy before us, we made 
 good our position, and the place was won. 
 
 In the confusion that followed, as regiment after regiment poured 
 in through the breach our gallantry had won, I remember little 
 that occurred. The conflict continued hand to hand in the 
 streets, every inch being hotly contested, but it was all to no pur¬ 
 pose, we made good our position, and the Austrians retired to 
 the citadel, while our troops, satisfied with what they had ac¬ 
 quired, set about providing themselves with quarters, and when the 
 day broke I was quietly sleeping, dreaming over again the scenes 
 through which I had passed ; the noise and din still echoed in my 
 ears, but with the exception of two or three slight bruises, I had 
 passed through the thickest of the fray unhurt. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 THE PLACE OF MANTUA. 
 
 “ Glory is like a circle in the water, 
 
 Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself 
 
 Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught.” 
 
 — Shakspeare. 
 
 Glory, thou unsubstantial vision of the mind—thou word of 
 power which hast caused young hearts to beat with high ambition 
 and hope, what art thou, after all, but an ignis fat mis which dis - 
 tracteth the youth, misleadetli the middle-aged, and tempteth 
 the veteran to the very verge of the grave, luring them onward 
 by thy flickering rays ? 
 
 Ask the young soldier, as for the first time he dons his glit¬ 
 tering uniform and girds around him the sword as yet unsheathed, 
 even on parade, while his eye with conscious pride keeps wandering 
 over the lettered page on which his name appears as gazetted to 
 
SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 24 
 
 the — th, what is glory, and he will reply, the undying record of 
 some brave action. Turn ye to the veteran of a hundred lights, 
 and to him glory has brought a wooden leg and a pension. And 
 yet we still pursue the phantom, though the down-hill journey of 
 life has robbed it of its first bewildering halo, and, regardless of 
 the fate of the heroes of Marathon, hope that our names may be 
 preserved to posterity. 
 
 Out upon thee, empty bauble ! the glory of Napoleon ter¬ 
 minated on a barren island ; who, then, would covet thee ? 
 
 The morning after the attack broke cold and bright, for a 
 clear frost prevailed, and the sun, after many ineffectual attempts 
 to break through the icy clouds that surrounded him, at last 
 shone forth, covering the crisp earth with myriads of glittering 
 icicles. It was early in the month of February, and nature 
 seemed prematurely awakened to welcome the first gleams of 
 the forthcoming spring. 
 
 I know not how long I may have slept, when the sharp ringing 
 notes of the bugle, as they sounded the reveille broke upon my 
 ear, and quickly donning my uniform, none the brighter in ap¬ 
 pearance for the scenes it had gone through on the preceding night, 
 I slowly proceeded to the place of muster, and joined my regiment 
 on parade. 
 
 The men were resting on their arms, all eyes directed towards 
 a young officer in plain military undress, who, surrounded by a 
 brilliant staff, was silently contemplating the scene before him, 
 and although his presence had been recognized by many of 
 the older soldiers who had shared his successes, and followed 
 him to victory, no sound of welcome escaped from their lips. 
 He appeared to wish to pass unnoticed, and with all who knew 
 him, his slightest wish was law. There was something in his 
 appearance that at once struck you he was no common man, and 
 when the sound of his voice, which I had never heard but once 
 before, came in well-remembered tones upon my ear, I immediately 
 recognized the spectator of the last night’s attack; the man whose 
 slightest sentence had re-animated the spirits of our faltering band. 
 In the buz of conversation that went round, I soon became 
 acquainted with his name, but my own being called over by an 
 orderly among a number of others, we stepped from the ranks in 
 front of that brilliant throng, and each received from the hands 
 of Serrurier, a musket ornamented with trophies in silver. It was 
 the policy of Napoleon to reward those in the ranks with some 
 mark of his esteem, a policy which afterwards suggested and 
 matured the Legion of Honour. Ere we were dismissed to our 
 several regiments, Napoleon addressed a few words to us. “ Re¬ 
 member,” said he, “ that you are now admitted into the ranks of 
 brave men, and let your after-conduct be a proof that you are 
 worthy of the distinction conferred upon you.” The words were 
 few, but the tones were kind; it was an admonition I shall never 
 forget. As I returned to my regiment I felt that the distinction 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 25 
 
 had been well-deserved, and that I had great reason to be proud, 
 since it was won the first time I had ever faced the foe, in an 
 enterprise the most dangerous in which a soldier can find himself 
 engaged ; that in fact I had a right to be included amongst those 
 who had “ earned an eternal title to the gratitude of the country.”* 
 
 After we had been dismissed, I was slowly sauntering to see the 
 breaches we had won last night, when I was passed by a flag of 
 truce borne by an aide-de-camp of the Austrian general, and 
 retracing my steps I followed him to head-quarters, wherel learnt 
 that, finding further resistance of no avail, and every hope of 
 relief having disappeared, Wurmser, with true courage, had 
 embraced the only alternative left to him, and had dispatched this 
 officer to our camp with an offer to capitulate on certain conditions. 
 “ We have yet,” said he, “plenty of provisions, and although 
 your guns and disease have made great havoc in our ranks, twenty 
 thousand men will not lay down their arms, unless they can 
 receive such treatment as gallant men should accord to an enemy 
 who have done all that human art could effect.” 
 
 “No,” said Serrurier, “this may not be; let Wurmser lay 
 down his arms, and surrender himself and his troops as prisoners 
 of war, and every clemency shall be exercised towards them, 
 failing this we will carry the citadel by assault, as we have the 
 suburbs, and every man shall be put to the sword.” 
 
 The aide-de-camp turned slowly to depart, when again a deep 
 voice spoke “ Arrete,” and a figure muffled in the cloak of a 
 dragoon approached the table, and, taking a pen, wrote a few 
 sentences on a sheet of paper which he handed to the Austrian, 
 “ Give this,” said he, “ to your general, say that we can respect 
 his situation and appreciate his bravery, let him, if he chooses, 
 make another effort to redeem his fortune, and should he be unsuc¬ 
 cessful, I pledge my word there shall be no difference in the terms 
 —to-morrow I advance.” 
 
 It has been the fashion in England to ridicule this scene, as a 
 mere clap-trap affair on the part of Napoleon, the effect upon those 
 who were aware of his presence was the very reverse, and it was 
 regarded as a proof of delicacy in a young, towards a grey-headed, 
 but less fortunate antagonist, as a further proof of which I will 
 quote a passage from his letter to the Directory, announcing our 
 success, in which he says, “ I have taken upon myself to exercise 
 the generosity of the French nation towards Wurmser, a veteran of 
 sixty-six years, who, in this campaign, although deserted by good 
 fortune, has never ceased to display a constancy and courage 
 that posterity will do justice to. Shut up in the town, he headed 
 (three sorties, in each of which he was repulsed, for, besides the 
 obstacles which our victorious troops threw in his way, his men 
 were enfeebled by disease and discouraged by defeat.” 
 
 Wurmser had, in fact, excited the admiration not only of our 
 
 * Proclamation of Buonaparte after the capitulation of Mantua. 
 
 D 
 
SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 general, bnt of the whole army, having, in this most protracted 
 struggle, lost upwards of 20,000 men, and held out until famine 
 had begun to stare the inhabitants in the face. He had anticipated 
 the effects of a long seige, and endeavoured to prepare for it by 
 salting the horses of his cavalry, on which food even, his troops 
 had been for some time on short allowance ; as a prolongation of 
 the struggle, therefore, offered no prospect of success, he wisely 
 accepted the offered terms, which were, in reality, much better 
 than he had any reason to expect; for, to console him, Napoleon 
 had directed that himself and 500 men of his choice should not be 
 comprised in the number of prisoners, besides which he presented 
 hirn with four pieces of cannon and four covered carriages, with 
 which he prepared to quit a place where he had been shut up for 
 nearly six months, and defended with a skill and courage worthy 
 of his well-earned reputation. 
 
 At ten o’clock next morning the troops were under arms, and 
 Wurmser, at the head of twenty thousand men, not above 
 one-lialf of whom were effective, marched out of the citadel, and 
 crossing the Ponte di S. Giorgio, quitted the city. Advancing to 
 Serrurier, who had conducted the siege, he presented him with his 
 sword, and as every eye was turned upon him, we could see the 
 tear steal down the cheek of the old warrior, as if he deeply felt 
 the parting with a well-tried friend. It was accepted by our 
 commander, for Napoleon, actuated by the same feelings of respect 
 which had dictated the terms of his surrender, declined to be 
 present when the veteran resigned his sword, and as the slowly 
 receding line of the Austrians faded from our sight, there was not 
 a man amongst us who did not feel pity and respect for their 
 leader. 
 
 Thus fell Mantua, which we immediately occupied, and fully 
 alive to the importance of the position, our engineers set to work 
 without delay to repair the damages our long protracted siege had 
 caused, and threw up additional defences, our general making 
 this his head quarters. 
 
 I was now fairly a soldier launched in that career which 
 afterwards raised so many brave men from the ranks of our army to 
 be generals of division, and was made corporal in a regiment of 
 chasseurs a cheval which formed a part of the garrison. 
 
 I confess that the routine of garrison duty did not well accord 
 with the activity of my natural spirits, and that although we were 
 occasionally employed on foraging parties, confinement to the 
 walls of a barrack was not to my taste. I sighed for more stirring 
 scenes, and envied such of my former comrades as were under 
 the more immediate command of Napoleon, that mighty master in 
 the art of war, now over-running the centre of Italy, and advancing 
 fast upon Rome, to the no small consternation of his Holiness 
 the Pope, and a whole host of emigrant clergy, who had fled from 
 the revolutionary troubles of France, to seek the protection of the 
 successor of St. Peter. 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 2? 
 
 Balls and masquerades, the theatre and the salon de jeu, were 
 quickly set afloat, and feasting and dissipation occupied most of 
 our time. For my own part, though utterly devoid of religion, 
 l was not innately vicious, and I often turned away from the 
 orgies of my companions to wander in solitude in the environs of 
 the city, or spent hours in sailing on the lake, and thus the days 
 passed on till the regiment to which I was attached received orders 
 to hold itself in readiness to join the main body of the army, then 
 taking up a position in the north of Italy, preparatory to its 
 advance into Austria by the Tyrol. - 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 THE ADVANCE. 
 
 And war alike of all a havoc made 
 The lordly castle or the peasant’s cot, 
 
 The peaceful hamlet, or the convent’s shade, 
 
 The unfrequented wild—availed them not. 
 
 Fire and rapine hovered on our track; 
 
 Stark desolation travelled in our train : 
 
 Not once the flying multitudes looked back, 
 
 To gaze on scenes they ne’er might see again.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The Archduke Charles had succeeded to the command of the 
 ; Austrian army, and his great success in Germany pointed him 
 out as the most fit person to oppose the torrent which threatened 
 to issue through the passes of the Tyrol and overwhelm the capital 
 of Austria. Young, active, brave, well versed in the art of war, as 
 well as a successful commander. Prince Charles re-animated the 
 drooping hopes of his nation, and he was at the same time aware 
 That in the conqueror of Beaulieu, Wurmser, and Alvinzi, he had 
 to meet talent of no common order. 
 
 Our troops occupied Vicenza and Padua, extending along the 
 eft bank of the Arisio to its junction with the Adige, and on the 
 •ight bank of the Piave to the Adriatic. The enemy was in 
 >osition on the opposite banks, having his centre placed behind 
 he Corde-vale, while his right, defended by the Adige, extended 
 is far as Belluno. 
 
 Although reinforced by two divisions only, drawn from the army 
 )f the North, and amounting together to 18,000 or 20,000 men, 
 Auonapartc determined to abandon the scenes of his triumphs, 
 md quitting the soil of Italy, to make the dominions of the Emperor 
 he theatre of his exploits ; but to execute this project, it became 
 
 D 2 
 
28 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 necessary to cross many considerable rivers, to traverse long 
 defiles covered with snow and ice ; in fact, to march on Vienna, 
 if the Emperor still refused the peace offered to him on the 
 most moderate conditions. Great as were the obstacles which 
 nature and the enemy opposed to this plan, they were not insur¬ 
 mountable ; his vast genius, fertile resources, and valiant troops, 
 were not likely to fail, and he determined that it should be at the 
 gates of the capital that he would finally demand that peace which 
 the people of the whole continent of Europe so ardently desired. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs when at the latter end of 
 February, 1797* Buonaparte assembled four divisions in the Marsh 
 of Trevisane, and while Joubert endeavoured to effect a junction 
 with the army of the Rhine, under Moreau, defending on his left 
 the passage of the Tyrol, advanced on Prince Charles, then 
 in position as before described. 
 
 We passed the Piave on the 13th of March, and, falling on the 
 Austrian rear, obliged the Archduke to retreat, leaving in our 
 hands a general, several field officers, and 1,200 men. It was 
 in vain he attempted to defend the passage of the Tagliamento, it 
 opposed no barrier to the conquerers of Italy. Nevertheless the 
 position was a strong one, and not to be abandoned without a 
 struggle ; entrenchments were thrown up to defend his communi¬ 
 cation with the Tyrol, whence all his supplies were drawn. The 
 French divisions were hardly concentrated at Valvasone than 
 Buonaparte disposed them for the attack. The infantry, formed 
 into two columns under the orders o f Generals Guieux and Berna- 
 dotte, was destined to attack the right and left of the entrench¬ 
 ments, and each column was covered by a strong advanced guard 
 of grenadiers, with twenty-four guns, these in turn supported by 
 Espinasse’s artillery on the right, and by that of Dommartin on 
 the left, while the cavalry, and several batteries, formed the re¬ 
 serve, and were under the orders of General Dugua. 
 
 At noon all was ready. The advanced guards, led by Duphot 
 and Murat, received orders to pass the river, and as they gal¬ 
 lantly threw themselves into the stream, the enemy opened a 
 galling fire from his field guns, supported here and there by the 
 cannon in the entrenchments. Before the whole had passed, the 
 fire became so devastating that Murat ordered the troops to form 
 as they emerged from the stream, and nobly was the order obeyed. 
 The 5th were first on the opposite bank, and rushing boldly at 
 the guns, they carried them at the point of the bayonet, the 
 artillerymen fell fighting sword in hand with the greatest coolness 
 and determination. The infantry, by whom the guns were sup¬ 
 ported, turned and fled, re-forming in front of the entrenchments, 
 from which they were again driven, after a sharp struggle. On 
 the left the enemy had slightly given way, retiring with an un¬ 
 broken front, till our men, in the pursuit, came within range 
 of his batteries, from which they were saluted with a plentiful 
 shower of grape and chain shot, which committed fearful havoc 
 
.A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 29 
 
 in our ranks^sending many a gallant fellow to his last account ; 
 but forward was still the cry, and the men pressed bravely on. 
 
 Between the bank of the river and the entrenchments, a little on 
 the right, was a house, the walls of which the enemy had loop-holed 
 for musketry, and this being defended by the guns in the battery, 
 proved a strong position, from which it was necessary to dislodge 
 him. The building was carried at the point of the bayonet, and 
 notwithstanding that the Austrians fought like very fiends, the 
 veteran troops of France were not to be withstood. Man to man, 
 hand to hand, was the conflict carried on ; the Colonel of the 5th 
 falling by a ball through the head, while leading the advance, 
 Legros was bayoneted, and Mirabel shot through the leg; never¬ 
 theless they made good their entrance, the defenders, not one 
 of whom escaped the bayonet, falling on all sides, our own loss 
 being proportionably great, scarce one in ten of the party em¬ 
 ployed escaping without a wound*. 
 
 In the meanwhile the whole line was in motion, each half 
 brigade moving by echellon, in close masses, on its second 
 battalion, the cavalry drawn up in squadrons in the rear of the 
 intervals. 
 
 Nothing had been neglected by Prince Charles to prevent our 
 passage, but his efforts had been unavailing; notwithstanding 
 the most determined bravery, he must submit to be repulsed, 
 though as yet he had not been beaten. He had calculated on 
 overwhelming our right by his cavalry, and our left by his in¬ 
 fantry. 
 
 During the engagement the division of Serrurier arrived, and 
 Napoleon determined to advance the whole of his cavalry and 
 artillery. We who had as yet been anxious spectators, were now 
 to take our turn in the affray. As our guns passed the river 
 and took up their position they opened upon the entrenchments, 
 and, after two hours hard fighting, nothing remained but to carry 
 the works by assault. Again the advance was sounded, once 
 more the infantry was in motion; a withering fire of grape and 
 musketry mowed down rank after rank—nothing could exceed 
 the coolness of the Austrians—but the bayonet prevailed, and 
 notwithstanding the loss was great still we pressed onwards, 
 driving the enemy out and retaining possession of their works. 
 
 As our regiment gained the opposite bank of the river we 
 wheeled into line, and, putting our horses to the gallop, charged 
 the now retiring masses of the Austrians, mowing them down 
 or riding over them, till the nature of the ground obliged us to 
 abandon the pursuit. Here and there our advance was impeded 
 by squadrons of the enemy’s cavalry, and on one occasion a hand 
 to hand encounter was the consequence, and comparatively trifling 
 as was our loss otherwise, in this affair it was severe. In my 
 own troop seven were killed and sixteen wounded, enough to 
 show the determined resistance of the enemy, as his infantry 
 was broken and in flight before we received the order to charge. 
 
 d 3 
 
SCENES IN THE LITE OE 
 
 30 
 
 Nothing conduced so much to our success as the rapidity of our 
 manoeuvres and the superiority of our artillery. 
 
 Night had come on, and vve were not sorry to hear the bugles 
 sound the re cal, for, although we had not been fighting all day 
 yet three hours is enough to give a man an appetite, and many 
 of us had not tasted food since breakfast, and even then the meal 
 was not the most substantia] of its kind. 
 
 Having been foiled in his attempt to resist us on the banks of 
 the Tagliamento, the Archduke retired on the Torre, where he 
 again endeavoured to maintain his position. He was driven 
 thence by two divisions which occupied Palma Nuova, while a 
 third manoeuvred to turn his right flank and thus cut off Willach, 
 which served as the point of communication between the different 
 divisions of the army ; this endeavour proved unsuccessful. 
 
 He again retired on the Lisongo, hoping that this rapid river 
 would prove an obstacle to our progress ; it was, however, passed 
 at a ford, and the garrison of Gradisca capitulated. 
 
 The consequence of these operations were 1,000 prisoners—the 
 elite of the Austrian army—the capture of many guns and colours, 
 and the fall of Goritz, at which place Napoleon established his 
 head quarters. My own immediate gain was a step up the ladder 
 I had determined to climb, having been appointed serjeant-maior 
 in place of my comrade, who fell at the passage of the Tag¬ 
 liamento. 
 
 One evening, after a short brush with a squadron of the enemy’s 
 cavalry, I received orders to join a foraging party, about to be 
 despatched from the camp, both men and horses standing in 
 great need of refreshments, of which they had not partaken since 
 morning. 
 
 The rain fell in torrents, accompanied by a sort of drizzling 
 sleet, more benumbing to the senses than snow, and this, added 
 to the comfort of an empty stomach, and the prospect of a night, 
 with the heavens only for a coverlid, made the men grumble. 
 We mounted and were off, taking 30 men of the 4th squadron 
 of the regiment who had only been partially engaged, and, after 
 groping our way some half a dozen miles, came in sight of a 
 hamlet, the lights in which flickering here and there gave token 
 that the inhabitants were astir. 
 
 What we took for a hamlet was in fact a small town, so gallop¬ 
 ing through the street we reined up at a large building, which 
 proved to be the town-hall, and demanded everything that was 
 eatable and drinkable, as well as forage for our horses and 
 waggons, &c., wherewith to convey the same to our camp. All 
 was in a state of bustle and confusion, the inhabitants declaring 
 they had nothing for themselves, and we on our side threatening 
 what should be the consequence unless our demands were com¬ 
 plied with, and that right speedily. A truant disposition led me 
 from the detachment, and straying into a house where I saw some 
 pretty young Tyrolese, 1 soon discovered that an Austrian detach- 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 31 
 
 ment was then in the village, but that being alarmed at our num¬ 
 bers, (believing in fact that we were a regiment), they were con¬ 
 cealed by two’s and three’s at the different houses, for, as our 
 trumpeter had sounded the charge as we galloped up the street, 
 they never for a moment supposed a mere handful of men would 
 be guilty of such temerity. I returned to the officer in command 
 and communicated my discovery ; threats and persuasions drew 
 their numbers and whereabouts from the burgomaster, and we 
 started in pursuit. Having searched the houses unsuccessfully, 
 we entered a stable for the purpose o*f taking off the horses, and 
 seeing a pair of spurs sticking out from under the straw, I na¬ 
 turally concluded the boots must be somewhere near. 
 
 A stab or two with the point of my sabre was replied to most 
 lustily, and in a short time out turned my friend, the German 
 master of the boots. 
 
 A repetition of this plan at each succeeding house was attended 
 with a like success, and we thus became masters of sixteen 
 Austrians and their horses without firing a shot or striking a 
 blow. The provisions mounted and the detachment on the march, 
 my pockets pretty well garnished with florins, levied as a 
 contribution from a portly tradesman of the place, we w r ere not 
 long on our return. The first man I met was the Colonel. 
 “ Gazzola, what cheer?” “ Bravely, bravely, mon officier,” said 
 I; “ we have obtained the wherewith to sup and make merry, in 
 addition to which we have got sixteen well-mounted recruits.” 
 
 He was quite a matter-of-fact person, and when I said recruits, 
 muttered over to himself, “ Recruits ! recruits ! where the devil do 
 they come from ?” I let him chew the cud for a bit, and then 
 related the particulars. The trumpets sounded the distribution, 
 and the prisoners were properly secured and taken care of; and, 
 notwithstanding the unfavourableness of the season, we laid 
 ourselves down to rest in the best manner we could. 
 
 The activity of Buonaparte deranged all the calculations of the 
 Austrian Prince, who had been accustomed to the slow and timid 
 tactics of Moreau. He retreated precipitately, and dividing his 
 army into two columns ; the one covered the road to Vienna, 
 while the other, under the orders of Gontreuil and Bazalitsch, 
 with the artillery, turned upon the Lisongo and the Nation, and 
 debouched by the defiles of Over-Preet, Tarvis, and Caporetto. 
 
 The discernment of Napoleon enabled him to penetrate the 
 designs of Prince Charles and to take advantage of the mistake 
 he had committed in the division of his army. While one of our 
 divisions followed the Prince, another marched upon Tarvis, 
 overthrowing everything in its route, and a third having beaten 
 Bazalitsch at Pufera, occupied the gorges of Caporetto, to which 
 place Napoleon himself came by way of Canale. In vain Ocsh 
 and Gontreuil advanced to retake Tarvis, the progress of our 
 victorious troops could not be restrained. Twenty days had 
 sufficed, and in that short time the First Consul had overcome 
 
32 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 the whole power of Austria, beaten her favourite general, and 
 destroyed or taken prisoners 20,000 men, with trifling loss on our 
 side. So well planned had been his movements—so well executed 
 his combinations, that we had encountered no obstacle that was 
 not easily overcome. One by one the generals had succumbed, 
 until the rapidity of our progress had reached the Imperial ears, 
 spreading inquietude and alarm in the Austrian Court. Still our 
 leader pressed on, the capital was menaced, when the Emperor 
 demanded a suspension of hostilities, which being agreed upon, 
 preliminaries of peace were signed at Leoben, where the army was 
 assembled, and whence, at the first order of its mighty chief, it 
 might easily have been launched upon the plains of Austria. 
 
 A portion of the army now retrograded, to chastise the insolence 
 of the Venetian Republic, while the division to which our regiment 
 was attached received orders to return to France. 
 
 The treaty of Campo Formio was ratified by the Austrian 
 Emperor, and might be considered the termination of the Italian 
 campaign. It results were 100,000 men killed in action, 150,000 
 made prisoners, 166 standards, 4,000 pieces of cannon, parks of 
 artillery, consisting of 650 pieces, all the vessels of war belonging 
 to the Venetian Republic, the arsenals, the chefs-d’oeuvre of the 
 most celebrated artists of Italy, both ancient and modern, and all 
 these, with loads of plunder unaccounted for, were the glorious 
 trophies gained by the genius of Napoleon and the courage of his 
 troops. 
 
 When we for a moment reflect on the well-digested plans and 
 astonishing success of the army of Italy, under its invincible 
 chief—on the apparently insurmountable obstacles which it had 
 overcome—when we see it invading a country where the people 
 were led on by a fanatical priesthood and ferocious demagogues, 
 having before it numerous and well appointed troops, commanded 
 by the most celebrated generals in Europe—when we see it destroy 
 army after army, without itself receiving a check, we may well 
 believe ourselves transported from the realms of fact to the regions 
 of imagination, but certainty succeeds the moment of illusion ; a 
 sentiment of admiration springs up in the breast of the citizen, 
 he would fain partake of the enthusiasm which is aroused, identify 
 himself with the heroes of Italy, and be pleased with the idea that 
 his turn may come to follow so brilliant and glorious a career. 
 
 Such indeed appeared to be the case in the places where we did 
 garrison duty, the losses we had sustained being quickly made up 
 by the conscription, and here we remained the latter part of the 
 year 1797 and and the commencement of 1798, until the active 
 mind of our leader again called us forth for another harvest in the 
 field of glory. 
 
A SOLDIER t)F FORTUNE. . 
 
 33 
 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 THE VOYAGE 
 
 “ Nor widows tears, nor tender orphan’s cries, 
 
 Can stop the invaders’ force.” 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 The subjection of Egypt, a project of Buonaparte, was submitted 
 to the Directory, who now, in perfect accord with him, ordered 
 the ministers to second it by all the means which the Republic 
 possessed. He seems to have meditated on this project for some 
 time, since he had desired a part of his force to rendezvous at 
 Corfu, from whence it sailed to Toulon. During the passage the 
 corps were exercised at the guns with the sailors and marines 
 of the fleet. 
 
 It appears now an odd way of forwarding his greatest desire— 
 that of crippling and destroying the influence of England by the 
 annihilation of her commerce, but be that as it may, he superin¬ 
 tended, with the greatest care and anxiety, the preparations for 
 the embarkation of the army, by which such great designs were 
 to be achieved. On the 19th of May, 1798, we sailed from Toulon, 
 and having, according to the language of the order of the day, 
 “ made war on the mountains and in the plains,” nothing now 
 remained but to make it on the sea. 
 
 The sun shone brightly on the clear blue waters of the Mediter¬ 
 ranean—fair presage of our success—and the numerous line of 
 battle ships and transports of which the fleet was composed, as 
 they let fall their sails and quitted the harbour, seemed to compose 
 an armament equal to the conquest of the world. The fleet was 
 further augmented by a division of transports, containing the 
 troops under the command of Desaix, and making up a disposable 
 force of 40,000 men, and after a tedious passage of three weeks 
 we cast anchor before Malta, then occupied by the Knights of St. 
 John of Jerusalem. 
 
 The reduction of this island was not only necessary to the 
 prosperity of our commerce with the Levant as a principal depot, 
 but also as being an intermediate station between France and 
 Egypt. To avoid the effusion of blood, our general demanded that 
 the port should be opened to him, but the Grand Master, confiding 
 in the valour of his Knights (who however proved unworthy 
 successors of the men who had, with unparalleled bravery, held 
 this almost impregnable island against the Turks in ages gone by), 
 rejected the proposition, and it being found necessary to employ 
 force, orders were given to Admiral Bruyes to make preparations 
 for the attack. The next day our troops landed upon every point 
 of the island, and before night the whole had submitted, and the 
 
. SCENES IN THE LITE OF 
 
 O 4 
 
 o 4 
 
 town was investedmn all sides. After a few discharges of cannon’ 
 the garrison made a feeble attempt at sortie that was easily 
 repulsed ; the Grand Master demanded a suspension of hostilities, 
 which being acceded to, on the evening of the 12th of June, a 
 convention was signed, and we became masters of the place. 
 
 The inhabitants generally had reason to congratulate themselves 
 on the generosity of their conquerors, who obtained possession of 
 two vessels of war, many pieces of cannon, small arms, ammunition, 
 and other necessaries of war, half of which were left behind for the 
 use of the garrison. Buonaparte remained some days on the 
 island, in order to organise it according to the principles of the 
 Republic. He abolished slavery, proclaimed equality, obliged the 
 inhabitants to adopt our institutions and laws ; he removed the 
 fetters of the Turkish and Arab slaves, whom he dismissed to 
 their respective countries, restoring these unhappy beings to that 
 liberty which they fancied they had been for ever deprived of, and 
 such were their transports of gratitude that they would have kissed 
 the feet of their benefactor ; he was, however, too truly great to 
 permit such humiliation on the part of his fellow-creatures, and 
 thus, one of the objects of the expedition being obtained, we 
 were in some measure repaid for the sacrifice it cost. 
 
 General Vaubois, with 4,500 men, was left in garrison, and on 
 the 19th of June the fleet again set sail for the coast of Africa, 
 where, after a quick passage, we arrived, the English fleet having 
 left the roadstead at Alexandria about three days before ; in fact, it 
 was thought by many that we should have a naval engagement 
 before we quitted the ships ; the presence of Nelson in these seas 
 being known to our commander. This was, however, spared 
 us, and we disembarked at Marabout, about a league from 
 Alexandria, at four o’olock in the morning of the 30th of June. 
 
 This was the first time I had ever been at sea, and long before 
 the conclusion of the voyage I had fervently prayed it might be 
 the last. We were crowded on board a wretched vessel—twice as 
 many human beings as she was ever intended to carry; and here, 
 in addition to the miseries of sea sickness, I experienced all the 
 horrors that were ever accumulated on the heads of those who go 
 down to the sea in ships, and have their business on the great 
 waters. Truly, if there were ever a correct representation of that 
 place which is never named to ears polite, it was the transport 
 in which I made the passage from Toulon to Egypt. The filth 
 and abomination arising from the too-crowded state of the vessel, 
 increased a hundred fold by the powerful action of the sun, 
 thoroughly disgusted us ; and there was not a soldier on board 
 who would not willingly have exchanged his situation for one in 
 front of the most forlorn storming party that ever stepped forth 
 from the ranks of the army. But the wished-for release came at 
 last—we received the order to disembark, a service of difficulty 
 and danger, for some of the boats were swamped by the surf, and 
 many of the men perished. Our vessel was one of the first that 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 3'3 
 
 made the land, and the regiment to which I belonged the earliest 
 on shore, and as soon as the rest of the division had landed, we 
 formed on the sands and marched towards our position. 
 
 The division was reviewed by Napoleon, who divided it into 
 three columns, commanded by Kleber, Bon, and Menou. We 
 advanced rapidly on the town, Kleber’s division occupying the 
 centre, moving by Pompey’s Pillar to escalade the walls, which 
 were fast crumbling to decay; that of Bon preserving the right, 
 to which was entrusted the attack on the port of Rosetta; whilst 
 the left, under Menou, advanced against the castle. The attack 
 took place at break of day, and although we had no artillery 
 landed, the town was carried by assault, in spite of the vigorous 
 resistance of the inhabitants, at whose hands we sustained some 
 loss, a wound in the leg falling to my share. During the assault 
 the artillery and the rest of the cavalry were disembarked, but not 
 in time to join in the attack. 
 
 Of the subsequent sack and plunder, I can give little account 
 save by report, though I could not stop my ears to what was 
 going on; however a few days confinement in the hospital soon 
 set me right again, and I once more resumed my duties in the 
 field. 
 
 Who but those who have passed through the same circum¬ 
 stances can picture to themselves the intense enjoyment which 
 thrilled through every vein, as I lay at the door of my tent 
 enjoying the first sunset after my recovery ? Who but those 
 who have passed days and weeks “cribbed, cabined, and con¬ 
 fined” in a filthy transport, can call to mind their first extacies on 
 passing anight of peace and comfort on shore? Never while 
 memory holds her own shall I forget my sensations. Very little 
 time was lost at Alexandria, which was garrisoned, a provisional 
 government organised, the fortifications repaired and put in order, 
 under Kleber, who, being wounded at the attack, was unable to 
 follow the army in its advance, and was therefore installed as com¬ 
 mandant of the town. 
 
 I am not going to relate the history of the campaign, all the 
 world is familiar with it—but if such were not the case, I am in¬ 
 capable of giving it. I am content to relate some of those scenes 
 in which I was engaged—some of those trifling incidents which 
 make up the sum of a soldier’s existence when not actually 
 engaged in the field, adding only such general details as may serve 
 to make my narrative better understood, or to give it a more 
 connected form. 
 
 We left Alexandria on the 7th of July; some proceeding in 
 boats up the Nile, others advancing along the banks, but each 
 of us pressing forward with all the rapidity possible towards that 
 El Dorado which many had promised themselves, though the less 
 sanguine considered that we were much more likely to fall in with 
 the Mamelukes who then occupied Cairo. 
 
36 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 We took the route by Demanhour—the shortest but the most 
 painful, as it traversed the desert. Unaccustomed to march over 
 burning sands, our troops threw away the provisions which were 
 served out to them when they started, and in a short time began 
 to experience all the horrors of famine and thirst. Discontent 
 and disappointment soon prevailed amongst us, especially in 
 those regiments that had formed part of the army of Italy; nor 
 were these confined to the ranks, even our commanding officer 
 Murat partook of it, a feeling in which he was joined by Lannes. 
 Harassed by the Arabs, who hovered continually on the flanks of 
 the columns, entailing certain destruction on whoever strayed 
 from the ranks ; discontent continued to increase as we advanced 
 through the sandy and barren country, so unlike our own fertile 
 plains, and after a forced march, and fatigue unheard of, we ar¬ 
 rived at the village of Chabriesse, where Mourad Bey awaited us 
 at the head of his troops, the sight of whom caused every mur¬ 
 mur to be hushed, every voice to be stilled. 
 
 I had, hitherto, been engaged against, men wielding the same 
 weapons, and using the same exercise as ourselves, but, with the 
 change of country, we had also changed our enemies, the tactics 
 of the Arabs no more resembling those of the Europeans than 
 did their arid and sterile soil, the fertile plains of Italy. The 
 whole country seemed studded with horsemen, who acted indepen¬ 
 dently of each other, and whose charges were rapid, as their 
 retreat was instantaneous. Our regiment being the only cavalry 
 attached to the division, we formed the advanced guard, and it 
 was no uncommon thing to see them hovering on our flanks, 
 charging even to the very heads of our horses, and suddenly rein 
 up, wheel short round, and retire. Many were the encounters 
 we had, and severe the loss we sustained, for every straggler 
 was sure to be cut off; but we were successful in our turn, and 
 much valuable booty fell to our share, for their arms were of the 
 highest and most exquisite finish, and numbers of them carried 
 considerable sums of money about their persons. 
 
 This sort of warfare continued as we advanced, the Mamelukes 
 threatening many times to charge, without ever making up their 
 minds to do so, and after resting some part of the day within 
 the range of our guns, which once opened upon them, scattering 
 death among them, they retired, and we took up our position 
 none the better pleased that we were within reach of such active 
 enemies. 
 
A SOLDIER OP FORTUNE. 
 
 37 
 
 CHAP. X 
 
 ' 
 
 BOULAK. 
 
 “ Thou hast been busy Death, this day, and yet 
 But half thy work is done.” 
 
 Southey . 
 
 We were early under arms and continued to advance, notwith¬ 
 standing the excessive heat, and soon came in sight-of the 
 Pyramids. When within six leagues of Cairo, Buonaparte received 
 information that the Beys, with all their force, were entrenched 
 at Embabe, a village opposite to Boulak, and that their position 
 was defended by sixty pieces of cannon. 
 
 The division to which I belonged, consisted of four regiments 
 of infantry and one of cavalry, under that dashing soldier of fortune, 
 Murat, and we were destined to lead the attack. The village of 
 Boulak was not fortified, the main body of the Egyptians being 
 posted between it and the Pyramids ; drawn up on the plain, in 
 front of the village, was an imposing force of Arab infantry, 
 supported on the right by a body of Mameluke cavalry. “ Sol¬ 
 diers!” cried Napoleon, “you are about to engage in battle to-day 
 with the rulers of Egypt; remember that from the height of those 
 monuments forty centuries look down upon us.” The enthusiasm 
 of the general was communicated to the troops; the bugles 
 sounded the advance, and putting our horses to the gallop, we 
 charged the main body, and then, wheeling suddenly to right 
 and left, retired through the intervals between the regiments of 
 infantry, by whom we were supported, and formed again in 
 the rear. In this manner, charge after charge was made, our 
 troops sustaining but little loss, as the enemy were principally 
 armed with matchlocks, until the main body arrived within musket 
 shot, when pouring in a murderous volley along the whole length 
 of the line, our men advanced, and settled the matter with the 
 bayonet. 
 
 The battle now became general, the other divisions of the army 
 being engaged. In the meanwhile we had plenty of work on our 
 hands, for the body of Mamelukes whom we had observed on the 
 right of the Arab infantry, with which we had been engaged, and 
 who had seemed to look on unconcerned during our attack, now 
 put themselves in motion, and crossing the plain at full gallop, 
 reined suddenly up before our regiment had time to get into line, 
 and charging us independently, many of our men bit the dust, and 
 the conflict became hand to hand. The Mamelukes, to the amount 
 of 12,000, were now engaged, their whole force being concentrated 
 on the right. In vain they penetrated even to the very squares. 
 
38 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 charging up to the point of the bayonet, the most daring bravery 
 availed them not, and the field was soon covered with the slain. 
 
 It was here that my early devotion to the foil stood me in some 
 stead, for in the melee that ensued, I found myself opposed to one 
 of these turbaned gentry, who, in addition to a quick eye and 
 ready hand, united great personal strength to dexterity in the 
 management of his horse. Twice had my sabre drawn blood 
 from his arm, and twice had he escaped a blow I intended should 
 be fatal; the event was still uncertain, I had an antagonist who 
 was not so easily subdued ; I who had seldom met my match in 
 the salle, was here foiled by an untutored son of the desert. I was 
 beginning to lose my temper—a loss that would in all probability 
 have been soon followed by that of my life—when a stray ball 
 struck »my antagonist’s horse, causing him to stumble, before he 
 could recover himself my sword cleft his skull, and I drew from 
 his pockets many a glittering piece of gold, besides acquiring a rich 
 sabre and a magnificent pair of pistols. 
 
 In the mean while the other divisions advanced and carried the 
 entrenchments at Embabe at the point of the bayonet, after great 
 carnage on the enemy, who fied on all sides, abandoning their 
 dead and wounded, together with their artillery, 400 camels, and 
 a great quantity of baggage, and horses richly caparisoned. 
 
 The other portion of the Mamelukes were defeated by Dessaix 
 in an attempt to carry Bilkil by a coup-de-main. The route was 
 complete, and on my returning to the village of Boulak, which 
 had been given up to the troops, I beheld scenes which made the 
 carnage of the battle field pleasureable when compared with them, 
 and well nigh disgusted me with the men with whom I had so 
 long associated. 
 
 I had witnessed carnage enough, Heaven knows, in my time ; 
 had seen sufficient of the horrors of a siege, at Mantua ; but my 
 wound had spared me the sack at Alexandria, and happy should 
 I have been to escape seeing one here. No imagination can 
 picture, no pen describe the state of a place abandoned to the 
 mercies of an infuriated soldiery ; and surely no soldiery in the 
 world can equal the French in the brutality of their actions ; 
 the atrocities of their cruelty. Rapine and plunder go hand in 
 hand; the most brutal passions are inflamed ; the most demoniacal 
 desires gratified ; no age nor sex was spared. The night had far 
 advanced before the bugles sounded the recal, and the village had 
 been fired in twenty places, ere the work of carnage had ceased in 
 Boulak. 
 
 Throughout the whole of my military career, varied and 
 chequered as it has been, I cannot call to mind anything to com¬ 
 pare with the horrors of that night; and I have thousands of times 
 inwardly cursed Murat for following the diabolical policy of Na¬ 
 poleon. 
 
 Order was in some measure restored, and the troops recalled to 
 their duty, when it became necessary to seek the means of sub- 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 39 
 
 sistence, the commissariat having failed to supply us with rations, 
 and a night of starvation promising to succeed a day of action- 
 This appeared anything but pleasant, so, calling two or three of 
 my comrades around me, we sallied forth in the hope of finding 
 some house which, having escaped the general sack, might provide 
 us with the means of satisfying our hunger. I had traversed the 
 greater portion of the place without success, nothing but desola¬ 
 tion staring me in the face, and the flames fast consuming that 
 which the violence of man had left, till, on approaching the most 
 distant suburb, I perceived a house surrounded by trees, bearing 
 apparently fewer marks of devastation than any I had previously 
 witnessed, and promising success in an attempt that was begin¬ 
 ning to appear hopeless. Putting our horses to the trot we soon 
 reached the gate, where I dismounted and passed through, to 
 the no small consternation of a young creature apparently about 
 fifteen, who, in the same habiliments which nature had bestowed 
 upon her when she entered the world, was endeavouring to con¬ 
 ceal herself from the rude gaze of one who, from his dress and 
 unceremonious manner of entering, she instinctively felt must be 
 an enemy. Finding the attempt ineffectual, and that I advanced 
 towards her, she burst into tears, and, casting herself on the 
 ground, raised her hands to Heaven, and in accents the most 
 piteous besought, as I supposed, my compassion. What her 
 words were I knew not; for Arabic or Egyptian were as unknown 
 to me, as French, of which she had probably never heard, was 
 to her; but the language of her eyes was not to be mistaken, 
 and now the experience of the stage stood me in great service ; I 
 commenced the most expressive pantomime to reassure her, and 
 by degrees succeeded. 
 
 I have already described her dress, or rather her want of it, but 
 of the strangeness of her appearance she seemed quite uncon¬ 
 scious, for there is an innate sense of purity in the untutored 
 children of the desert which would put to shame the more 
 fastidious^ but in reality less scrupulous inhabitants of what are 
 called highly civilised countries ; for treasuring no impropriety 
 in their own thoughts, they are slow to believe it is ever har¬ 
 boured in those of others. My captive had probably never be¬ 
 fore been in the company of a man, at all events she seemed quite 
 unconscious of what appeared to me the strangeness of her situa¬ 
 tion. Her skin, dark as the olive of rny own land, seemed 
 covered by a soft and glossy down, while her raven hair, unre¬ 
 strained by band or comb, fell gracefully around her, forming 
 an imperfect veil, that heightened rather than concealed the 
 beauties of her figure, which was faultless as that of the Grecian 
 marble to which with such enthusiasm we bow as the beau ideal 
 of a woman. Although when raised, her step possessed the 
 uncertainty of fear, it had all the elasticity of youth, forming 
 altogether an object that at once won its way to my heart, 
 where unrestrained compassion took immediate possession. But 
 
 E 2 
 
40 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 why should I dwell upon this picture of helpless innocence— 
 my heart, seared by the blighting effects of its last passion, 
 had not recovered itself sufficiently to make room for another, 
 and I determined that in this case no baneful influence should 
 interfere to rob my captive of her peace, and that I would be to 
 her, in every sense of the word, the most disinterested of pro¬ 
 tectors. 
 
 I motioned for her to await my return, and quitted the house to 
 communicate with my comrades, who could little appreciate the 
 feelings by which I was actuated, and, amid their laughter and 
 jeers, I unstrapped from my saddle the valise attached to it, and 
 tumbling out a shirt, pantaloons, and stable dress, I re-entered 
 the house, and having clothed my prize in these strange habili¬ 
 ments, and placed a forage cap upon her head, I mounted her 
 behind me, en-crovpe and prepared to continue our search. 
 
 In this and a neighbouring house, which we found abandoned, 
 we were lucky enough to get plenty wherewith to satisfy our 
 wants, and also two Arab horses, upon one of which I mounted 
 my new recruit, and returned to the camp. 
 
 At an early period of life, we act first and reflect afterwards, 
 and had I reversed the order of proceeding, in all probability, it 
 would have induced me to have left this defenceless being to her 
 fate—what that fate might have been, I shudder to contemplate 
 —to the remarks of my comrades I turned a deaf ear, and de¬ 
 posited her in my tent, where no prying eye could disturb her 
 avocation—no intruder annoy her by his presence, and bearing 
 in mind that the fortune of war might sometime or other expose 
 my own sisters to a like fate, I left no means untried to render 
 her captivity as little irksome to her as possible. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 CAIRO. 
 
 * 4 Woe to the vanquish’d ! ” was stern Brenno’s word, 
 
 When sunk proud Rome beneath the Gallic sword— 
 
 “ Woe to the vanquish’d !” when his massive blade 
 Bore down the scale against the ransom weigh’d ; 
 
 And on the field of foughten battle still, 
 
 Woe knows no limits, save the victor’s will. 
 
 The GauIliad. 
 
 On revisiting the field the morning after the battle, I passed on to 
 that portion of it beyond the village of Boulak, in which I had not 
 been employed, and if I had been struck before with the great 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 4 I 
 
 military talent of our leader, how much more was I astonished 
 at the perfect success of his plans against an enemy whose 
 method of warfare was as novel as it was impetuous. 
 
 In advancing on the entrenchments occupied by Mourad Bey 
 and the main body of the Mameluke force, Napoleon ordered the 
 divisions of Dessaix and Regnier to take position to the right, 
 between Dgyzech and Embabe, so as to cut off the communication 
 with Upper Egypt, to which, in case of defeat, it would become 
 necessary for the enemy to retreat. Mourad Bey, who was a much 
 braver general than a skilful one, perceiving this movement, 
 resolved to charge in two divisions. The infantry formed into 
 squares, awaited the approach of his columns until the leading files 
 had advanced within fifty paces, and then a murderous fire of 
 artillery and musketry opening upon them, mowed them down by 
 hundreds. Still they advanced, throwing themselves into the 
 intervals between the squares, charging up to the very points of 
 the bayonets, and all without avail; again and again the heavy roar 
 of great and small guns saluted them till at last they gave way ; 
 Buonaparte watched this movement, and ordered the division of 
 General Bon, then in position on the hill, to move up in such a 
 manner as to take in the rear those who had issued out of the 
 entrenchments, and to cut off their retreat, while it threatened the 
 position of Mourad Bey on the left. He had impressed on all 
 three generals the necessity (to ensure success to his plans) of 
 observing well how far their movements were attended with success, 
 on being assured of which they were each to advance on the 
 entrenchments, forming the first and third division of each bat¬ 
 talion into columns of attack, while the other divisions sustained 
 the brunt of the battle. 
 
 The result of the battle of the Pyramids was the entire subjection 
 of the Lower Province, while it opened the road into Upper 
 Egypt. The conquest was completed, and the dispositions of our 
 general were crowned with success, nevertheless the bravery of the 
 enemy had been unparalleled, and his loss proportionably great. 
 
 Cairo was now evacuated, the flotilla and boats on the Nile being 
 first destroyed ; the enemy, dividing into two corps, one of which, 
 commanded by Mourad Bey, retreated into Upper Egypt, the other, 
 taking the road to Syria, under the orders of ibrahim Bey. 
 
 We entered the city on the 22nd of July, and Napoleon, 
 desirous of giving to the inhabitants a specimen of his power, 
 ordered the preparations for a fete, which was to overwhelm them 
 by its magnificence. To this he was impelled by another motive, 
 for his soldiers had begun to turn their eyes towards a country, 
 the recollection of which is so dear to a Frenchman, that nothing 
 can efface it. In this feeling I participated, for, although not 
 naturally a child of France, all my habits and thoughts had become 
 French ; but brave and generous as all the world admits them to 
 be, none are more easily dazzled by their glories, and led away by 
 events which immortalise them. 
 
 e 3 
 
42 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 This was well known to Napoleon, who seemed to partake of 
 their enthusiasm, and eager to augment it. This made him study 
 to efface from their minds the fate of the fleet which Nelson had 
 recently destroyed at Aboukir; he announced its destruction with 
 a face unmoved, in terms that led them to believe that he considered 
 its loss a matter of little importance to the army. “We have no 
 longer a fleet,” said he, “ ah ! well, we must remain in these 
 countries, or leave them gloriously, as did the warriors of old.” 
 The fete would lead their thoughts to other channels, offering a 
 spectacle which, by awakening in their hearts the most lively 
 emotions, might banish for a time the memory of that dear 
 country to which they gloried to belong, and to which many were 
 growing anxious to return. 
 
 At daybreak salvos of artillery announced the anniversary of 
 the foundation of the Republic. The army, formed round a 
 majestic pyramid raised in the Place d’Esbetrier to the memory of 
 the brave men who had fallen in the preceding battles, awaited in 
 silence the arrival of the General-in-Chief. He came, attended 
 by a brilliant staff, the principal officers of the military adminis¬ 
 tration, and the leading citizens of the town, and was received by 
 the acclamations of the whole force, mingled with the roaring of 
 cannon, loud blasts of trumpets, and rolling of drums. He seemed 
 like a father in the midst of his children. 
 
 Taking his stand at the foot of the pyramid, and stilling all 
 sounds by the simple motion of the hand, again the deep voice I 
 had heard under the walls of Mantua, and in the Place, broke forth 
 with an eloquence that at once carried persuasion and aroused 
 enthusiasm. There, in words that thrilled through every one that 
 heard him, he briefly recapitulated the services of those he 
 addressed, winding up with an eulogium that none felt could be 
 gainsayed. “From England, celebrated in arts and commerce, to 
 the fierce and hideous Bedouin, we had fixed the attention of the 
 world ” Oh ! how a little well-timed flattery will reward men for 
 the perils and hardships of a campaign. Talk of ribbons, flattery 
 is equally successful, and ever so much cheaper. Scarcely had he 
 concluded than the air was rent with cries of “ Vive la Liberte, 
 Vive la Republique.” After going through a variety of manoeuvres, 
 the army passed in review before the General and his Staff, and 
 accompanied the civil authorities to a banquet, where all ranks and 
 sentiments were strangely mingled together. It was, indeed, the 
 most singular sight the world ever beheld. Europeans, Africans, 
 Asiatics, uniting together in the enjoyment of the moment. 
 
 Mounted en cavalier , on my Arab prize, clothed in the undress 
 uniform of my corps, my captive accompanied me to witness the 
 horse and foot races, for which prizes were given by the general, 
 while an exhibition of fire-works, and a general illumination both 
 of the town and the camp, closed this day of feasting and re¬ 
 joicing. 
 
 I had taken upon me an arduous and a dangerous task, for in 
 
43 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 becoming the protector of a woman, I also exposed myself to the 
 danger of degenerating into her slave. Our relative ages were 
 too young to afford much hope of escaping the temptations our 
 situation afforded ; but I reflect with gratitude to an all-wise 
 Creator that we did escape, and that, instead of making her my 
 mistress, she became my servant. 
 
 The recollection of the Ballerina had not passed away; and 
 although time—that soother of all ills—and reason had both ex¬ 
 erted their influence upon me, still memory with tenacious fond¬ 
 ness, clung to those hours when I knew her, and believed her all 
 she ought to have been. 
 
 Poets and novelists agree that there is no second love, and I 
 then believed them ; passion had not as yet usurped its place, 
 and my prize, clothed in a suit of uniform I provided for her, was 
 so constantly at my side, that in a short time both my com¬ 
 panions and myself became so accustomed to her that we ceased 
 to remember her sex, and she escaped those importunities to which 
 her natural habiliments would perhaps have subjected her. I was 
 glad to have her by me, whether in the bivouac or the skirmish, 
 and there I invariably found her ; for though she carried no 
 arms, she followed me in two or three little skirmishes in which 
 we were engaged, providing herself with a bottle of brandy or 
 curacoa wherewith to sustain our courage, or reanimate our 
 drooping spirits. 
 
 In one of these affairs a ball struck me in the back part of 
 the neck, tumbling me from my horse, and there, in all proba¬ 
 bility, my earthly career would have been ended, but for the 
 watchful care of the Arab maid. Quickly dismounting, she 
 poured some brandy into my mouth, and dragging me from the 
 melee, with some difficulty got me back to my quarters, and 
 here I found a reward for having saved the life of my captive; 
 here she amply repaid the care I had bestowed upon her. For 
 some weeks I was confined to my room, during which time 
 she waited upon me with that kindness and attention which 
 only a woman can bestow, soothing, with a sister’s care, the irrita¬ 
 bility caused by my wound, and anticipating every want with as 
 much tenderness as if I had been a child. 
 
 At last, I was declared convalescent, and, although my wound 
 had not healed, I returned to my duty, but the incessant oc¬ 
 cupation of the saddle brought on a relapse, and I was again 
 ordered to the rear. 
 
 My campaigns in Egypt were, however, closed, for I lingered 
 on for some time without recovering my strength, till an order 
 from our commander sent us home, and I quitted my captive 
 and the soil of the pyramids, to endeavour to re-establish my 
 health by the invigorating breeze of my native land. 
 
 I was thus constrained to leave my prize, and I confess I parted 
 from her with feelings of the most lively regret. She had begun 
 to learn my language, and made herself interesting by the earnest 
 
44 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 endeavours she displayed to make herself understood. Present¬ 
 ing 1 her with all the money I had been able to save from my 
 pay, I warned her of the fate she might expect if she remained 
 with the army, and begging her to return to Boulak and endea¬ 
 vour to discover if any of her family had survived our attack, I 
 bade her farewell, and stepped on board the vessel which was to 
 bear me from her for ever. I will not attempt to paint the despair 
 which seemed to have taken possession of her; she begged to be 
 allowed to accompany me, but this could not be; my rank in 
 the service did not give me the privilege of keeping a servant, 
 and the transport was too crowded to allow her to go as a pas¬ 
 senger. The fates decreed that we should part, and part we did 
 with feelings of poignant and unavailing regret. 
 
 We sailed from Egypt with a fresh breeze, and I was heartily 
 glad when I entered the hospital, where I remained till my health 
 was restored. 
 
 During my inactivity the French had attacked Acre, and had 
 another affair at Aboukir. I fretted at the thought that I had not 
 been there, and, like a chained animal, made myself unhappy 
 that I could not break my bonds; no help remained, and at last 
 I resigned myself to my fate, until I beard of the arrival of Na¬ 
 poleon, who landed at Frejus on the 30th of September, 1799- 
 
 This event decided me to return once more to the army, which 
 I had almost resolved to leave; but the circumstance of my 
 youth prevented my seeking other employment, while the death 
 of my mother and the unkindness of my uncle was an effectual 
 bar to my returning to my country. Chance had made me a 
 sddier, and a soldier I must continue. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 THE PASSAGE OF MONT ST. BERNARD. 
 
 M Far as the eye could reach no tree was seen, 
 
 Earth, clad in ru-sset, scorned the lively green ; 
 
 No birds, except as birds of passage, flew; 
 
 No bee was heard to hutn, no dove to coo; 
 
 No streams as amber smooth—as amber clear, 
 
 Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here.” 
 
 Prophecy of Famine. 
 
 After the affair of the 18th Brumaire (TOth of February, 1800,) 
 the army was assembled in camp at Dijon, and thither I hastened ; 
 for as it was composed mostly of conscripts, a small number only 
 of the troops having seen service, I made sure that one who had 
 
45 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 i 
 
 had the good fortune to belong to the army of Italy, as well as to 
 have formed part of the expedition to Egypt, would be well re¬ 
 ceived, and that my old rank would be preserved to me, even if 
 I failed to get promotion. 
 
 On my arrival I presented myself to General Berthier, then 
 in command, who appointed me to a vacant sub-lieutenancy in 
 the Grenadiers a cheval of the Consular Guard—that guard which, 
 by its untiring attachment to Napoleon, and its unceasing devotion 
 to his cause, became so celebrated in after years. It was com¬ 
 posed of the elite of the army—picked men in the very vigour 
 of their existence, and from its steady and unflinching conduct in 
 the field soon acquired the name of the “Wall of Granite.” 
 
 If, during my career as a soldier, 1 had at times felt disgust or 
 dissatisfaction—if on the wearying night march, the picket 
 guard, or the bivouac, I had contrasted my present situation 
 with what it might have been, to the evident disadvantage of the 
 'former—if the harsh words of a commander or the irksomeness 
 of obedience had sometimes chafed my spirit, or ruffled my 
 temper—all was forgotten, and I mounted my first guard at Dijon 
 with heart as elate, and spirits as buoyant, as when I stepped 
 from the ranks in the square at Mantua to receive my reward as 
 a survivor of the storming party. 
 
 I had taken upon myself to be the architect of my own for¬ 
 tune, the foundation of which I had laid before the walls of 
 Mantua ; and insignificant as I felt my position, compared with 
 that of the thousands of gallant fellows of which the army was 
 composed, still it had attracted the attention of one whose all- 
 ipervading eye could pierce even the remotest ranks, and make 
 him condescend to notice the humble efforts of a corporal-major 
 jof chasseurs. 
 
 Our division marched by the Jura, on Geneva, at which place 
 we were reviewed by the First Consul himself, and received 
 ;he astounding intelligence that instead of proceeding by Cham- 
 lieri and the Mont Cenis, our commander had the hardihood to 
 conceive, and the head to execute, a project never dreamt of 
 since the days of the Romans, and that in imitation of the Car- 
 jhagenian General, to whom, both in the rapidity of his move¬ 
 ments and the boldness of his conceptions, he bore no inconsider- 
 ible resemblance, he had determined to brave nature herself in 
 ler stronghold, and to carry the army into the north of Italy by 
 he almost inaccessible pass of the Saint Bernard. 
 
 The idea of invading Italy by this route emanated exclusively 
 from the First Consul. Having stood the brunt of battle in 
 Europe and in Africa, the cannon of the battery, the bayonet of 
 |he infantry, the mail-clad warriors of Austria, the turbaned 
 ollowers of Mahomet, the incredible difficulties that now pre- 
 ented themselves did not daunt the courage of his troops. With 
 Conscious reliance on the generals who had been accustomed to 
 >rave fatigue and danger, and on the men who had never failed 
 
46 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 to respond to his call, he resolved to attack the icy barrier, and in 
 spite of difficulties appalling even to the simple traveller, who 
 can choose his time and opportunity; to attempt to pass an army 
 by a route, covered in part by eternal snows, destitute of herbage, 
 of shelter, or of habitation, the snow-crowned summits of the pass 
 being approached by a path strewn with barren and rugged rocks ; 
 a path where even the practised foot of the goatherd is obliged 
 to proceed with caution, and where on the one hand masses of 
 snow suspended above threaten to break in avalanches and sweep 
 the traveller away in their descent, and on the other a false step 
 would be followed by certain death. 
 
 It was to be attempted, however, and none dreamt of failure; 
 the halo of success hung over the brow of Napoleon, and to doubt 
 was treason ; so on the 7th of May we were once more in 
 motion, and marched to Martigny, a small town in the Valais, 
 situated about six leagues from the mountain, the General-in- 
 Chief having selected this place, by reason of its proximity to 
 the pass, in which to prepare for the work he had determined to 
 execute. Here we remained, quartered in the Maison de Con¬ 
 valescence du Mont St. Bernard, a house belonging to the 
 order to which the older brethren retire to end their days, and 
 the valetudinarians to re-establish their health 
 
 The advanced guard, consisting of the 6th Light Brigade, the 
 2Sth and 44th regiments of the line, the 11th and 12th Hussars, 
 and the 21st regiment of Chasseurs, under the command of 
 General Lannes, was pushed forward to St. Pierre, at the foot 
 of the pass ; but the hamlet was quickly deserted by the inhabi¬ 
 tants, who, alarmed by the number of troops which arrived, 
 concealed themselves among the rocks, which were still covered 
 by frost and snow. It contained only forty houses, or, as they 
 might with more truth be called, huts ; but for two months it 
 became the depot for the artillery, and here were excuted the 
 various works necessary for our transit. By degrees the people 
 returned to their habitations, which they soon repented ever to 
 have quitted, as many of them were afterwards employed as 
 guides, or as porters to carry the baggage of the officers, by 
 which means they acquired handsome wages, that were in all 
 cases punctually discharged. 
 
 The advanced guard having surmounted every difficulty, and 
 crossed the mountain, were followed by the first division, under 
 General Watrin, who fell in with the enemy at Saint Remy— 
 about six leagues from the Convent—an enemy of whom we never 
 again lost sight until victory crowned our arms on the plains oi 
 Marengo. Although inferior in numbers, they awaited the attack 
 believing that only a few regiments had passed, and being protectee 
 by the nature of the country. A hand to hand encounter wa< 
 the consequence, nor did they retire until they perceived one o 
 our corps descending the little St. Bernard and menacing then 
 rear—threatening to cut off their retreat to Aoste. 
 
A SOLDIER Of FORTUNE. 
 
 47 
 
 The First Consul had arrived at Martigny on the 20th of May, 
 and took up his abode at the Convent. Here he remained three 
 days, expecting the surrender of the Fort of Bard, situated beyond 
 the mountain on the road to Yvree ; but, although we received the 
 news of the attack of the advanced guard, and the surrender of 
 the town, still the fort held out, and our General began to chafe at 
 its non-reduction. As yet neither artillery nor any of the munitions 
 of a siege had passed—all was heaped together at St. Pierre. To 
 transport this branch of the army by the pass of the St. Bernard 
 appeared impossible ; but what was an army without it ? Its 
 wants were imperative. In vain were obstacles started to alarm 
 the imaginations of the desponding, or damp the ardour of the 
 most sanguine—everything had been arranged by the genius that 
 had planned and superintended the execution of this gigantic 
 enterprise of the modern Hannibal. 
 
 The establishment of the convent on the mountain, for the 
 purpose of affording assistance to the few solitary travellers who 
 pursue this route, is sufficient evidence of the dangers to which 
 they are exposed in these stormy regions ; but the present array, 
 consisting of infantry, cavalry, baggage, cassoons, artillery, &c. &c., 
 bore little resemblance to the few straggling parties for whose use 
 it was founded. The passage, however, was to be attempted ; 
 so the artillerymen proceeded to dismount the guns, waggons, 
 forges, &c. ; piece by piece was every thing dismantled, while 
 the engineers, under the direction of the Inspector-General of 
 I Artillery, Gassendrie, prepared troughs from the excavated trunks 
 of trees, in which the guns were placed, and to which were attached 
 | five or six hundred men, according to the size of the piece, 
 
 | who dragged this heavy burden from the foot of the pass to the 
 j convent. Sledges had been provided at Auxonne on which to 
 carry the axles ; the wheels were placed upon poles, and borne on 
 the shoulders of men who were relieved at every 100 paces, while 
 the ammunition, enclosed in deal boxes, was placed on the backs of 
 j mules. By way of encouragement, Marmont, who commanded 
 ! the artillery, offered a premium of 500 francs for each gun mounted 
 and attended by its ammunition v/aggon which should reach the 
 other side. An entire battalion was necessary for the transport 
 i of the two objects—one half being obliged to drag the troughs, 
 sledges, &c., while the remainder conveyed their comrades’ muskets, 
 camp utensils, and provisions for five days, which in bread, meat, 
 and salt, was served out previous to our departure from Martigny. 
 Each of these men' was, therefore, provided with a burden 
 weighing from 70 to 100 lbs., the baggage waggons returning to 
 i Lausaune, every soldier, even to the First Consul, being obliged to 
 content himself with the most simple necessaries. 
 
 What will not determined courage, when directed aright, 
 
 I accomplish ? The morning broke clearly but coldly as we assem¬ 
 bled at St. Pierre, and put ourselves in motion, to follow the path 
 of our comrades. Arrived at the foot of the mountain, we fell 
 
48 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 into single file, mounting one by one, no person being allowed 
 to pass the one in advance, and where this command was dis¬ 
 obeyed, the inevitable result of its infringement was the dis¬ 
 appearance of the offender, who was soon buried in the snow, and 
 fortunate indeed were they who had the good luck to be dug out 
 again. 
 
 The leading files were often obliged to halt, and those in the 
 rear profited by these frequent stoppages, taking care to slake 
 their thirst, which would otherwise have been insupportable, by 
 soaking their biscuit in the melted snow, a delicacy which none 
 can appreciate, save those who, like us, have crossed the St, 
 Bernard, ere the surnmet has set in. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the firmness of the snow, as we 
 advanced, smoothed many obstructions, the path being in fact more 
 difficult than dangerous ; however, after five hours excessive 
 labour, the convent appeared in sight, and in a short time we 
 arrived at the gates. 
 
 The First Consul, who was mounted on a mule led by a guide, 
 was often stopped by those carrying the ammunition, or by the 
 soldiers who were employed dragging the cannon up this miserable 
 road. Was there more than the usual difficulty his presence 
 reanimated their drooping courage, his advice encouraged them to 
 attempt its overthrow; wherever ne found those in advance 
 brought to a stand still, his directions were attended to with the 
 most imposing silence, and followed by an execution more prompt 
 than the most unsparing distribution of gold by any other hand 
 could have produced. 
 
 During the ascent I had the good fortune to attend the Prior 
 of the Convent, who, mounted on a mule, followed in the suite 
 of the Consul. He was a fat jolly old fellow, who had passed 
 many years in his mountain home, and related many tales of the 
 travellers that had been rescued from destruction by the dogs of 
 the convent. He pointed out to me the dangers which beset those 
 who attempted the pass without the assistance of a guide, and 
 beguiled the long and tedious route with anecdotes of himself 
 and his order. On our arrival at the Hospice, tables were laid out 
 in front, and each soldier as he passed received a piece of bread 
 and cheese and a glass of wine ; and this welcome liquor, although 
 almost frozen, proved of the utmost service, in the warmth it 
 conveyed to the body, and the assistance it rendered in recruiting 
 the strength. I will venture to say that there was scarcely a man 
 in the army who would have exchanged his glass of wine for all 
 the glittering wealth of Peril. 
 
 Here were we then at the summit of the Saint Bernard, where 
 the Drave and the Doria take their source, and where the cold is 
 excessive even in the middle of summer. Not a solitary shrub or 
 stunted bush announced the presence of vegetation ; not a herb 
 or leaf afforded to the eye the presence of soft verdure ; never do 
 the birds make this their resting place. Nature appears to have 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 49 
 
 determined that it shall be abandoned in its most savage state. A 
 vast extent of dark and monotonous gray rocks of ice heaped 
 together ; an immense perspective of a mountain chain always 
 white; a frightful silence, disturbed only by the thundering 
 avalanche ; clouds which sometimes seem to precipitate them¬ 
 selves to the foot of the mountains, and sometimes to envelope 
 them ‘on all sides ; such are the startling features which offer 
 themselves to the notice of the traveller who seeks these elevated 
 points of our hemisphere. 
 
 And yet even among these savage and dreary places men are 
 to be found, whose principal occupation is to afford relief to those 
 unfortunate persons whose business leads them this way, and who 
 are frequently menaced with danger, and in some cases absolutely 
 lost in these unfrequented passes. The monastery of Bernardins 
 is like a vast inn or eastern caravanserais, while two other build¬ 
 ings of smaller dimensions are near to, and dependent on it. When 
 these good monks have a summer of three months, and only 
 three hours of fine weather each day of this hasty season, they 
 consider themselves highly favoured by Providence. 
 
 About a hundred paces distant from the Convent on the left, is 
 Mount Yeland, the highest of the chain, and at the time when I 
 passed the sun shone out upon its crest, covering it with 
 myriads of sparkles which dazzled the sight. Its crest is 3,600 
 metres above the level of the sea, and it takes two days to attain 
 the summit, not so much on account of its height, as by the 
 numerous fields of ice which surround it. 
 
 The naturalists, who travel in these mountains, arm themselves 
 with a pole, an axe, and climbing irons. The pole assists them 
 to ascend and leap over the chasms, the axe to cut stairs or 
 steps in the ice, and the sharp irons prevent their sliding. Pro¬ 
 visions and guides are equally necessary, for in summer as well as 
 in winter, many persons are lost among these almost inaccessible 
 rocks, and the bodies of such as are recovered by the dogs are 
 carried to the chapel, where they are deposited, the coldness of 
 the climate preserving them from decay. 
 
 With what pleasure did I bestow my caresses on these dogs, 
 so useful to the belated traveller! Who could calmly speak of 
 their charitable instinct, ordained by a bountiful Providence to 
 fescue suffering humanity from danger, and even death! Who 
 could fail to admire and respect the good monks whose lives 
 are devoted to this cause ! Notwithstanding the scarcity of 
 provisions, there was scarcely a French soldier who did not offer 
 :o these noble dogs a portion of the bread supplied to him. Morn¬ 
 ing and night these fine animals start for their tasks, and if in 
 die course of their undirected track, echo carry to their attentive 
 sars the miserable cries of some unfortunate nigh upon perish¬ 
 ing, they run towards him, lavish their caresses upon him, and 
 seem to bid him take courage till they can return with assist¬ 
 ance. Then they course back to the convent, and with sad and 
 
 F 
 
SCENES IN THE LIFE 01 
 
 50 
 
 and plaintive cries announce to the brethren what they have seem 
 These append to their necks a basket of such viands as are 
 proper to re-animate the sufferer, and, following their humane 
 messenger, in many instances rescue the unhappy wanderer from 
 impending death. 
 
 What a contrast between these godly men, who employ the 
 most ingenious methods to preserve the life of a single individual, 
 and that destructive spirit which unhappily at this period seemed 
 to have taken possession of the earth, blotting its fair face with 
 oceans of human blood, and destroying in very wantonness the 
 image of the Creator. The reflection was anything but compli¬ 
 mentary to the soldier, but was as evanescent as the sunshine on 
 Mont Veland. 
 
 in the winter season, when the winds, the rain, hail, or snow 
 have swept away and destroyed the path, the guides come with 
 their mules, and these sagacious animals quickly discover it if 
 any trace be left, and, by passing and repassing frequently, render 
 it once more practicable. This is often a work of time, occu¬ 
 pying three or four days, and, whenever the frost becomes a 
 little more severe than usual, the monks seize the favourable 
 opportunity to re-provision the monastery. 
 
 Singular as it may appear, the passage offers greater difficulties 
 in summer than in winter ; the rain penetrating through the cracks 
 in the snow, causes it to melt underneath in a manner not easily 
 perceptible. It there forms cavities, on which the traveller steps, 
 unaware of the treacherous gulf beneath, when suddenly the sur¬ 
 face gives way and he disappears in an instant. A severe frost 
 is therefore always to be preferred, because then the transit is 
 attended by greater security. 
 
 At 200 paces below the convent is a lake, the depth of which 
 has never been ascertained, as it but rarely thawed, and oftentimes 
 the snow is so deep upon its frozen surface, that persons pass 
 over without noticing it. 
 
 And here, in these unhospitable regions, did 124 men of the 
 28th demi-brigade of the line pass the winter, having to guard 
 the passes of the St. Bernard. I leave you to g.uess how pleasant 
 the sojourn must have been, especially to those who had just 
 spent three years in garrison in the gay city of Paris. 
 
 Each man having received his refreshment commenced the 
 descent. There were still six leagues to go, but six leagues 
 which the extreme rapidity of the descent rendered terrible. At 
 every step we were met by immense chasms, formed by the melt¬ 
 ing snow. In vain the cavalry held their horses firmly by the 
 bridle, they could not prevent them slipping; the men them¬ 
 selves, in spite of every precaution, often fell, and unless they 
 were quickly on their legs again, they ran the risk of being 
 dragged off 1 the path, and of perishing in the yawning gulfs that 
 opened on every side around them. 
 
 The First Consul, accompanied by the Prior of the Maison du 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 5! 
 
 Convalescence, and attended by Duroc, Le Maroi, Merlin, and 
 others, entered the Convent, and visited the Chapel and the libra¬ 
 ries. We attended his return in the great hall of the Convent, 
 conversing with the monks on the vastness of their habitation. 
 Napoleon wore his grey great-coat, and seemed to suffer a little 
 from fatigue, which, however, gave place to disappointment at 
 not meeting any one to inform him of the surrender of the fort of 
 Bard. He remained here about an hour, and when he departed, 
 exhorted the brethren to persevere in a course which so well ac¬ 
 corded with the dictates of humanity. His horses and mules 
 followed us. On reaching the summit of the pass, Napoleon, 
 desirous no doubt of rejoining the army by the shortest route, 
 followed a path which had been used by some of the infantry, 
 but had not proceeded far before he was obliged to dismount. His 
 attendants followed his example, and the descent becoming ex¬ 
 ceedingly rapid, he seated himself on the snow, and slid down a 
 height of 200 feet. The rest of the journey was continued on 
 foot, sometimes sliding and sometimes walking, but the chasms 
 into which we were at each moment slipping, rendered the descent 
 much more fatiguing than the ascent. We had marched at mid¬ 
 night, and the clock had struck the hour of nine ere we arrived, 
 having come 14 leagues, almost without stopping, and but scan¬ 
 tily supplied with food. Few there were, however, who com¬ 
 plained of hunger, the fatigue and the want of rest made us 
 easily forget the scantiness of supper. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 THE FORT OF BARD. 
 
 “ Far along, 
 
 From peak to peak, the rattling crags among 
 Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
 But every mountain now hath found a tongue.” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 A few hours of rest afforded our wearied troops an opportunity 
 of recovering from the fatigues of the preceding day, and we 
 marched on Aoste, a town of Piedmont, which the advanced guard 
 had occupied the previous evening. We arrived there early in 
 the morning, and were met outside the town by a deputation of 
 the inhabitants, who came forth to compliment the First Consul 
 on his success, and to conduct him to the residence of the 
 Bishop. 
 
 Although ill-built, wretchedly paved, and filled with the poorest 
 inhabitants, it. proved of the greatest utility to us, for from the 
 
52 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 neighbouring vallies were drawn the supplies served out to the 
 troops for the passage of the St. Bernard. 
 
 The First Consul remained here five days, while the General-in- 
 Chief, Berthier, with his staff, followed the movements of the 
 advanced guard, and fixed his head-quarters at a convent about 
 a league distant from the celebrated fort of Bard. 
 
 Mine, at this period, was no life of indolence, for a courier 
 charged with despatches from the occupant of a tottering throne 
 to his powerful ally, could not have been hurried backwards 
 and forwards with greater haste than were myself and two or 
 three other officers of our corps. 
 
 In vain Napoleon waited for the news of the surrender of the 
 fort of Bard, for although the town had been carried on the 25th 
 of May, the fort as yet held out. 
 
 I had galloped up to the quarters of the First Consul at Aoste 
 one morning, with despatches, when I unexpectedly received a 
 summons to attend him, and, following the messenger, I was not 
 long in finding myself in the presence of the conqueror of Italy. 
 
 Standing with his back to the fire, enveloped in the same grey 
 frock in which he had crossed the mountain, with a short riding 
 whip in his hand, with which he occasionally tapped his boot, 
 he appeared waiting in moody silence the return of the messenger 
 sent for me. Near him were Lannes, Duroc, De Marai, and 
 others, and as I passed into the chamber, his restless grey eye 
 caught sight of me, and he beckoned me to approach. 
 
 “Ah!” said the First Consul; “my brave comrade of the 
 forlorn hope of Mantua, what news from Bard ?” 
 
 I was pleased with the recognition, and felt myself fast swelling 
 to a level with the brilliant staff around me. A repetition of the 
 question, however, recalled me to myself, and I replied that as 
 yet there appeared no chance of its surrender. 
 
 Turning on his heel to General Lannes, he launched into 
 complaints against Berthier. “ I am weary,” said he, “ of staying 
 here ; those fools will never take Bard ; I must go myself and 
 see what can be done. How vexatious to be tormented by so 
 contemptible an affair.” The brave comrade of Mantua was 
 forgotten, and as I slowly left the room, I could not help thinking 
 how different would have been the case had my news been of a 
 more pleasing character. 
 
 The division of Lannes was now pushed forward towards 
 Chatillon, where he found the enemy drawn up ready to oppose 
 the passage of a bridge over a ravine, which our infantry could 
 not descend. Without a moment’s hesitation the Chief of 
 Brigade, Tournier, charged them with the 12th Hussars, and 
 overwhelming all who opposed his passage, took forty hussars 
 and two hundred infantry prisoners, together with a three-pounder, 
 which composed the whole of their artillery, and pursuing the 
 fugitives even to the very walls of the fort, hardly allowed them 
 t'ime to enter and raise the drawbridge. • 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 53 
 
 The fort of Bard commands the road, bounded on the left by 
 Mount Alvaredo, and on the right by a torrent called the Doria 
 Baltea, by which it is separated from the town ; and this fort, 
 or rather rock, suddenly arrested the army, and shut it up in a 
 gorge, where four days sufficed to consume the whole of the 
 resources which the difficult passage of the Saint Bernard had 
 allowed us to accumulate. This delay afforded an opportunity to 
 the Austrian General, Melas, to oppose our passage. To his 
 misfortune he fancied that he had discovered the plans of Napoleon, 
 and doubted not that he should be able to prevent their execution ; 
 but the slow movements of the Austrians were no match for the 
 rapidity of the French, for though nature had formed the rock 
 in the shape of a sugar loaf, and art had rendered it almost 
 impregnable, still the feeble assistance rendered to the garrison 
 prevented their doing all that should have been done. 
 
 As I have before said, the road lies at the foot of the rock, 
 watered on the right by the Doria Baltea, now a deep, rapid, and 
 dangerous river, the opposite bank of which was rugged and 
 inaccessible, serving as a harbour for rats and owls. On the left 
 were other rocks, as high as these but less precipitous ; and these 
 latter were covered with vines, to attain which the miserable 
 inhabitants of these places are obliged to cut staircases in the rock. 
 
 We had but the choice of two alternatives—either to take the fort 
 by assault, or to find another route which, by avoiding it, might 
 enable us to pursue our march. But the genius of Napoleon 
 directed us, and it was on this occasion especially that he proved 
 that what is necessity to him who struggles is but choice to him 
 that is willing, and that nothing is impossible to the man who is 
 determined 
 
 Of all the miserable beings it had been my lot to fall in with, 
 none could bear comparison with the inhabitants of these regions. 
 Their skin bears resemblance to nothing so much as a piece of 
 soiled old parchment, while their features are disfigured by horrible 
 wens. They have naked feet, and their legs are so burnt by the 
 sun that they appear at first sight to be covered with black 
 stockings, while their clothes are the colour of soot. They make 
 their bread at Christmas for the whole year, and are obliged to 
 hammer it to pieces when they want to consume it. 
 
 Like the owls, whose hideous features they resemble, they 
 choose the most elevated points on which to erect their miserable 
 habitations. They seldom frequent any town, having no wants 
 save such as are supplied by their cows and their goats. We had 
 plenty of time to become acquainted with them, for they r came to 
 Aoste, carrying on their heads bundles of forage weighing from 
 200 to 300 pounds, and, in spite of these heavy weights, they 
 were always running, even in the most dangerous paths. 
 
 And vast service they rendered the army at the siege of the Fort 
 of Bard, for, in the absence of horses and mules, they carried 
 the supplies to the troops, performing all their services willingly 
 
 f 3 
 
SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 54 
 
 and with pleasure, for which they were always punctually re¬ 
 warded. 
 
 Three companies of Tirailleurs had taken possession of the town 
 of Bard, and made good their position. During the day they 
 were obliged to screen themselves from the fire of the fort, but, 
 nevertheless, they annoyed the besieged considerably, by picking 
 off such men as showed themselves at the embrasures or loopholes. 
 
 1 have already said nature had done much for the strength of 
 the fort. Twenty-two pieces of cannon, five hundred men, many 
 mortars and outworks defending the road to it, had been the 
 contribution of art, and together had rendered it difficult of 
 approach. The first means tried, however, were to be the assault, 
 and about eleven o’clock at night, lighted by the rays of a brilliant 
 moon, the chief of brigade of the brave 58th, at the head of many 
 companies of grenadiers, marched in silence among the thickly 
 strewn rocks and boulders, until they approached the palisades, 
 where they were saluted with a shower of balls, which, however, 
 did not check their advance ; and, following the enemy from 
 outwork to outwork, they compelled him to retire at the point of 
 the bayonet, and to re-enter the castle. Notwithstanding our 
 heavy fire of grape and musketry, the enemy replied as warmly ; 
 great guns, grenades, howitzers, were all put in requisition, and 
 these succeeded at last in arresting the impetuosity of the French. 
 Large stones piled on the walls were thrown down on the assailants, 
 beating many of them to the ground; the gallant leader fell 
 mortally wounded, and further advance being impossible the 
 retreat was sounded. It was obeyed with as much steadiness as 
 if the troops were on parade, although we had to regret the fate of 
 many a brave fellow killed or seriously wounded, amongst the rest. 
 General Dufour, who distinguished himself greatly, and was 
 dangerously hurt. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 THE REPULSE. 
 
 “ And far as mortal eve can compass sight, 
 
 The mountain howitzer, the broken road, 
 
 The bristling palisade, the fosse o’ertlowed, 
 
 T he station’d bands, the never-vacant watch, 
 
 The magazine in rocky durance stow’d. 
 
 The bolster'd steed beneath the shed of thatch. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Although a small portion only of the army had been engaged, 
 the loss had been serious; and as the fort if well, defended "was 
 
A SOLDIER, OF FORTUNE. 
 
 55 
 
 announced impregnable, and if Melas took advantage of our 
 position, it was likely to be a critical one, the other alternative was 
 now to be tried, and a reconnoitering party was despatched to 
 endeavour to discover some route by which the fort might be 
 evaded. 
 
 They reported that by using the steps made by the peasants, 
 Mount Albaredo might be crossed, and we should fall into 
 the road on the other side of the rock. This was now to be 
 essayed; but in mounting the ladder-like ascent, we had to pass 
 over a certain portion that was commanded by one of the guns 
 of the battery, which soon opened on the passers by. It, 
 therefore, became necessary to show as small a mark to the 
 enemy as need be, and on arriving at this spot, we took care to 
 make the interval as much as ten paces between each soldier. 
 But this did not content us ; so by dint of vast efforts we 
 managed to haul a four pound gun up a portion of the passage, 
 and placing it in a cleft of the rock, we found we could return 
 their fire, and as it completely commanded their battery, we 
 [ kept firing away without intermission. 
 
 The advanced guard only took this dangerous route, and great 
 difficulty they had in accomplishing it; to the men, however, w'ho 
 had carried a part of the artillery over the St. Bernard, the little 
 sugar-loaf hill in our front was an obstacle of small account, 
 
 ' but they were constrained to pass by single files, and to bivouac 
 on the top. The infantry got safe to the road at the foot of 
 . the hill, and now commenced the difficulty of carrying over 
 the cavalry, for the poor horses were obliged to follow the 
 example of the goats of the country, and leap from rock to rock, 
 a feat which the most bungling soon learned to perform with 
 precision, for instinct, which in them serves the place of reason, 
 showed them how to avoid rolling over the precipices by which 
 they are surrounded ; nevertheless, several horses and mules were 
 lost. 
 
 The advanced guard had passed, but though we had carried 
 the guns over the Alps, they could by no means be dragged up 
 these stair-like passages, and some other means had yet to be 
 discovered, and however exposed the route through the town 
 might be, by that and no other could they be conveyed. The 
 genius of Napoleon was again in the ascendant, and in the dead 
 of night, dark and cheerless as the thickest November sky could 
 have made it, the troops commenced strewing the street of Bard 
 with straw and dung, and the whole of the artillery, carriages, and 
 caissons, were drawn over them, by thirty men harnessed in single 
 file to each gun and carriage, having first taken the precaution to 
 bind the wheels with hay bands to deaden the noise. Seizing 
 the favourable moment, the cortege began its march, but the 
 enemy being on the look out, soon discovered that something 
 unusual was going on, and from time to time a dropping fire of 
 musketry saluted us, killing a few men, and wounding others. 
 
56 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Yet the work went steadily on, gun after gun was carried by, 
 and when all had passed, the last was turned upon the outwork 
 of the fort, and, being within point blank range, soon demolished 
 it, when the troops by which it was defended, finding themselves 
 short of provisions, and fearing an assault, surrendered as 
 prisoners of war. 
 
 The First Consul frequently visited the works in company with 
 General Berthier, and other members of his staff. He ascended 
 the rock on foot, and rested some time on the summit, from 
 whence the eye could easily command a view of the fort. 
 Fatigued with his exertions—for the path was very rugged and 
 the day hot—he on one occasion lay down upon the grass, and 
 was soon wrapped in slumber, while each soldier as he passed 
 contemplated him with feelings of interest, and took especial 
 care not to disturb him. Yes, here the conqueror of Italy re¬ 
 posed upon the green sod, with no other canopy than the blue 
 vault of Heaven, and no doubt enjoyed a sounder and sweeter 
 sleep than ever fell to his lot under the gilded domes of the 
 Palace of the Tuileries. 
 
 The Austrians were at St. Martin. To attack them, drive 
 them back upon Yv r ree, took only as much time as was necessary 
 to traverse the distance by which we were separated. In the 
 citadel of Yvree we found fourteen pieces of cannon, which 
 being unable to carry away, they had spiked, some munitions of 
 war, and two hundred prisoners. Here the First Consul remained 
 four days, making it the head-quarters of the army, a rest which 
 proved of as much service to it as a reinforcement would have 
 done, although the supplies which were issued to the troops were 
 very dear. 
 
 All the ovens and bakehouses of the town were put in requisition, 
 and were employed night and pay to produce bread, of which 
 the army stood in need, none having been served out for the last 
 eight days. Here, too, the plan of the campaign was determined 
 upon, and each general of division got ready for the start. The 
 troops under their command deployed, and menaced the whole 
 north of Italy; the beauty of which country, as seen lying at our 
 feet, and the mildness of the climate, contrasted strangely with 
 that of the land we were about to leave. 
 
 And here occurred one of those laughable affairs which some¬ 
 times fall out, and serve to render the monotony of a guard 
 room, less irksome than it would otherwise be. 
 
 The enemy was not far distant, and although I had been em¬ 
 ployed as orderly, conveying instructions to the different corps, 
 it fell to my lot to form part of the picket on duty that night. 
 The grenadiers of the guard, both horse and foot, had bivouacked 
 in the garden of the mansion in which the First Consul and his 
 staff were lodged. The night was dark and cold, no star 
 illumined the dreary expanse above us, no sound was heard, 
 save the low moaning of the wind as it blew in fitful gusts 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 57 
 
 among the trees, or the distant cry of the sentinel on guard as 
 he passed the word ; sounds which had become too familiar to 
 the ears of the troops to disturb their rest The influence of 
 the hour had prevailed on all save those on watch, one by one 
 the voices of the talkers had ceased, all the world seemed wrapped 
 in profound repose, when suddenly I was aroused from a reverie 
 that would have soon become a slumber, and astonished by the 
 report of several' muskets, which the balls of which came 
 whistling through the trees above our heads, making strange 
 havoc with the branches. To turn out the guard was the work 
 of a moment, all was in commotion on the instant. “The 
 Austrians, the Austrians,” ran from mouth to mouth, though 
 no one could tell where the alarm commenced, or whether any 
 portion of the troops were engaged. Here one was met with his 
 knapsack on his back, prepared to fall back or advance, as the 
 word should be given ; there was a dragoon hastily saddling his 
 charger ; without drum or trumpet we were soon under arms, 
 while an orderly was despatched to awaken the General, and a 
 man from each troop ran off to summon the officers. Before they 
 came we were drawn up in line, each trooper as he arrived 
 falling into his place ; all the division seemed at once restored 
 to life, and only to be waiting for the order to move, when a 
 chasseur, who had got ready sooner than his comrades, came 
 galloping up with the news that a neighbouring barrack-room 
 had taken fire, and that in their hurry and alarm the inmates had 
 discharged their muskets, and thus aroused the camp. The fire 
 had been easily subdued, and we soon returned to our duties ; 
 the slumberers not in the most amiable humour at the accident 
 which had deprived them of some hours of rest. However, the 
 surprise of Yvree proved a fruitful topic of conversation, and 
 afforded us many a laugh long after the annoyance had been 
 forgotten. 
 
 I was once again upon my native soil, and still in the ranks 
 of those who were called the enemies of my country. I had 
 imbibed the latitudinarian notions of revolutionary France, and 
 having held no communication with my kindred, had ceased to 
 regard them as such, or myself as a citizen of Piedmont. 
 
 Fortune had smiled upon me, and should she prove as propi¬ 
 tious as she had hitherto done, I should have no cause for 
 repentance. I was now about to revisit some of the towns in 
 which I had enacted a part on the mimic stage, then the despised 
 of mankind, shunned by the good, scoffed at by the wicked; 
 now I was an actor in the great drama of life, the world the 
 audience, the heroes of France the players; now was I the 
 companion of the brave, who had earned their reputations on 
 the battle field, and esteemed me as a friend and a brother. 
 
 By the captain of my troop, Barbanegre, an officer who on 
 several occasions had greatly distinguished himself, I had been 
 treated with marked partiality. He had recommended me to the 
 
58 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 notice of General Berthier, and my own conduct had proved 
 that I was not unworthy of the recommendation; added to this, 
 I had attracted the attention of our chief, who, though not many 
 years my senior in age, had already stamped his name on the 
 imperishable records of fame : that tide in the affairs of men 
 which taken at the flood leads on to fortune, had set in auspi¬ 
 ciously for me; and ambition, the polar star of the brave, now 
 led me on; I determined whenever the opportunity occurred to 
 do or die; and though the routine of a soldier’s duty was 
 occasionally a little irksome, a few cheering words from my 
 superiors soon set all right again, and I looked forward to the 
 time when I should become—I knew not what. 
 
 l^ears have passed away since then, yet still can memory recal 
 these feelings as vividly as when they first came over me: the 
 dream of ambition is broken, yet can I now repaint the scenes 
 I shadowed forth during the earlier periods of my employment 
 as a soldier; the impression, like the writing with invisible ink, 
 wants but the revivifying influence of the spirit to become as 
 legible as when it was first imprinted there. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 THE PASSAGE OF THE TESSIN. 
 
 “ Who could foresee thee in a space so brief; 
 
 A scene where mingling foes should boast and bleed ?•” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Four or five thousand men drawn hastily from Turin and the 
 neighbouring garrisons, were united to those whom we had beaten 
 previously, and had taken position at Romano, where they threw 
 up some entrenchments. The Chinsella, a deep and rapid river, 
 covered their right, but they had neglected to destroy the bridge, 
 an omission which I attributed to their ignorance of our position 
 and force. They declared haughtily that Napoleon did not 
 command us in person, but that our leader was an adventurer 
 who resembled him ; that his troops were a mass of Italian 
 refugees, without artillery or cavalry, which had been detached 
 from the army to amuse the enemy, whilst Napoleon occupied 
 himself against Genoa ; and, buoyed up by this opinion, they 
 flattered themselves that they had nothing to do but to attack us, 
 and then, by feigning a retreat, to draw us out into the plains, 
 where we should easily fall before their matchless prowess. 
 
 Poor deluded wretches ! Too soon did they find their mistake ; 
 for early in the morning the advanced guard, under Lannes, > 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 59 
 
 commenced the attack, and two hours sufficed to destroy their 
 vain hopes and enlighten their blind ignoi^nce. In that short 
 time the mountains were in our rear, Romano was carried at the 
 point of the bayonet, and the bridge and the redoubt were swept 
 away, while their loss in killed and wounded was frightful, giving 
 them terrible proof of the bravery of the French, who, after putting 
 them to the route, pursued them on the road to Turin, to which 
 they seemed disposed to retreat. 
 
 Thus since our descent of the mountain, the army had taken 
 Aoste, Chatillon, St. Martin, Yvree, Susa, and Labrunette, to which 
 was now added Romano, which lay open before us, notwithstanding 
 that the bridges and boats on the Oreo had been destroyed. 
 
 Profiting by the nature of the ground as he retreated, the enemy 
 rallied in a large plain, where a strong body of cavalry formed, 
 and charging our infantry, whose impetuosity in the pursuit had 
 outstripped their prudence, many were ridden over or cut down 
 before they could be thrown into squares. Happily, however, the 
 11th and 12th regiments of hussars and the 21st chasseurs were 
 near, and these, with the 6th light infantry, and the 28th and 44th 
 regiments of the line being quickly brought up—charged the 
 advancing squadrons, and threw them into disorder. I had just 
 ridden up with orders for the general, and witnessed the charge of 
 the 21st, and never on the most brilliant field-day did I see one 
 executed with more coolness and precision- 
 
 The main body of the army having passed Mount Albaredo 
 defiled by Yvree, where it was supplied with provisions, which 
 restored vigour to the frame of many a famishing soldier, and ' 
 soon, in spite of the privations they had undergone, the abundance 
 which began to manifest itself, effaced the remembrance of the 
 distress we had left behind. 
 
 Buonaparte, desirous of concealing his plans, ordered two divi¬ 
 sions to march on Turin, to support Lannes, who had driven the 
 enemy to Chivasso, on the Po. Attacked there, he retired on 
 Casal where he burnt the bridge. We made a feint to pass the 
 river, and many of the men threw themselves into the stream to 
 take the floating bridge, but while the enemy believed that we were 
 menacing Turin, a division of cavalry entered Yerceil, where were 
 considerable magazines and forage. 
 
 Thus had all the divisions passed into the open country, and so 
 well had their movements been combined that their success was 
 great. 
 
 The division of cavalry which had taken the route to Verceil now 
 moved forward under Murat, and the main body entered that town 
 without firing a gun ; but while we were employed throwing a 
 bridge of boats over the Sesia, the advanced guard perceived the 
 enemy on the opposite bank of the Tessin. 
 
 The rapidity of the river Tessin, without a bridge, or boats to 
 construct one, offered an obstacle to troops less ardent than the 
 French, but four or five little shallops, which the inhabitants of 
 
SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 60 
 
 the little village of Galiate had concealed from the enemy, were 
 soon taken possession of. Into these the soldiers quickly threw 
 themselves, under a murdering fire from the enemy’s right. The 
 carabineers of the 6th light were the first afloat, protected in some 
 manner by a well-directed fire of musketry and some cannon, and 
 were speedily followed by the grenadiers of the 28th. The opposite 
 bank was soon gained, and as quickly mounted. The enemy being 
 better provided with cavalry than infantry were obliged to abandon 
 a marsh covered with osiers, and a small wood which incommoded 
 them as soon as they failed to protect it. Our men then threw 
 themselves among the trees, and the voltigeurs made strange havoc 
 in the ranks of the Austrians. 
 
 I had been sent with an order to the officer in command of the 
 Voltigeurs, who held possession of the extreme point of the wood 
 nearest the enemy, when a ball struck my horse in the chest, and 
 \re both rolled over. The poor animal was dead ; and as I with 
 difficulty raised myself from the ground, a ball took my shoulder, 
 carrying away my epaulette, and another passed through the crown 
 of my shako. Happily, neither had touched my flesh, but my 
 proximity being too great to be pleasant, I fairly took to my heels 
 and ran for my life ; and notwithstanding that the rifles of the 
 Voltigeurs would have brought to the ground any one who had 
 the temerity to pursue me, I had been for some moments under 
 the shelter of the wood before I had recovered sufficient equanimity 
 to discover the whole extent of my loss. 
 
 Here was I in truth a dismounted dragoon, anxious to return 
 to my post whence I had been despatched in the absence of the 
 regular officer of ordonnance, yet unable to guess where that post 
 might be, and still more unable to attain it even if I had known 
 where it was. The bugles soon sounded the recal, and I 
 accompanied my new companions to the rear, where I procured a 
 fresh horse and directions to my regiment. 
 
 The principal point to which our efforts were directed was 
 Buffalora; and the passage of the river took place about a league 
 lower down the river. Our troops menaced the rear of the enemy, 
 but a party of Grenadiers, too ardent in the pursuit, entered the 
 town, and the width of the streets permitting cavalry to act with 
 advantage, General Landon, who had just arrived from Genoa, 
 either discovering the weakness of our force, or willing to ascertain 
 its strength, put his horse to the gallop, and returning at least 
 two leagues, brought up two divisions of cavalry of Bussy’s 
 Legion, fell on the Grenadiers, re-took the town, and made a 
 company prisoners. The remainder, rallying quickly at the 
 entrance of the marsh, kept the enemy in check, and, with the 
 assistance of others who kept pouring in from the boats, forced 
 him to retreat; and when the night came on we had a considerable 
 force on the other side the river. 
 
 In his anxiety to be among the first in the meMe, Duroc, senior 
 aid-de-camp of the First Consul, threw himself into a boat, carrying 
 
A SOLDIER Of FORTUNE. 
 
 61 
 
 over a full complement of grenadiers. The boat, from its crowded 
 state, became unsteady, and Duroc was thrown into the stream. 
 Here, in all probability, his campaigns would have ended, had not 
 Harmand, a grenadier of the 28 th, precipitated himself into the 
 river, and thus saved him from a watery grave. 
 
 The passage of the river being accomplished, the enemy retired, 
 and on the morrow the head quarters of the French army occupied 
 Novara. Already many of the divisions waited with impatience 
 on the borders of the river the signal to cross. It was an 
 interesting spectacle to witness the general enthusiasm which 
 pervaded all ranks. All the world seemed desirous of following 
 in the suite of the First Consul. Cavalry, oxen, mules, baggage 
 waggons, carriages of all kinds crowded to the bridge, each interval 
 filled up by a crowd of foot soldiers. Hardly were we on the 
 opposite shore than the hope of occupying Milan seemed to give 
 us wings—we fancied we were hurrying to the land of promise. 
 
 Nevertheless our entrance into Milan was delayed for some 
 hours, for the enemy, undecided as to whether he would shut 
 himself up in the citadel, or willing to employ the time in aug¬ 
 menting the provisions, for four hours harassed the advanced 
 guard. At this time many of the inhabitants fell victims to their 
 desire for the entrance of the French, being killed or wounded 
 by the guns from the citadel. To avoid them we took a different 
 route, by the bye paths, which conducted us to the Porta Ticinisa, 
 on the road to Pavia, before attaining which the First Consul and 
 his staff were obliged to take refuge at a farm-house by the road 
 side, to avoid a terrific storm, which wetted those who were not so 
 fortunate to the skin. Besides the unpleasantness of the storm, 
 we were in some danger from the enemy, numbers of whom 
 paraded the neighbouring roads, and the advanced guard had not 
 arrived, when an aid-de-camp rode up, and hastened the march 
 of the Horse Grenadiers of the Guard. 
 
 As they came up the enemy disappeared, and we followed in the 
 rear of the brilliant cortege, which presented itself at the gate of 
 the capital of Lombardy. 
 
62 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 MILAN. 
 
 “ Once on a cold and winter shaded side 
 Of a bleak hill, mischance had rooted me ! 
 
 Transplanted now to the gay sunny vale, 
 
 Like the green thorn of May, ray fortune flowers ! 
 
 Home. 
 
 Notwithstanding the unfavourable state of the weather the 
 staff of the army formed a large and brilliant throng, which 
 the Milanese came forth in crowds to meet, while .the ladies, 
 equally well-dressed as those of Paris, mingled with the groups 
 of citizens, repeating with enthusiasim, “ Vive Buonaparte! 
 Vivent les Francais!” The farther we advanced, the thicker 
 became the crowd, till at last the street seemed filled with one 
 dense mass of human beings. 
 
 Some time had elapsed since I had last entered Milan—tim* 
 which was not to be measured by the ordinary rule of computation 
 but by the events that had crowded one upon another; for hov. 
 often do we find that we live more in one short hour of excite 
 ment, than in days or even weeks measured by the monotonou 
 hands of the diall The common current of existence, when it runs 
 smoothly on, takes little note of its advance towards the oceai 
 of eternity; and noiseless as may be the tread of the destroyei 
 when it falls upon the verdant paths of pleasure, his tramp is 
 more sounding than that of the war-horse, when the route is 
 chequered by misfortune, or overstrewn with the thorns of remorse 
 
 Few, very few years had elapsed, a short span only of th< 
 usual number vouchsafed unto man, yet had my existence appeare( 
 to exceed that of a whole generation. Then, a fugitive boy 
 anxious only to escape from well-merited punishment, with a littl 
 coin in my pocket, and a knapsack on my back, reflection hai 
 not yet established her empire in my mind, and I was careles 
 alike of the future and the past. Now, with a name unstained i 
 with fame and fortune in my grasp—the equal of the brave, th 
 companion of the courted—with head erect as that of the war-hors 
 when he first scents the far-off odours of the battle field, 
 followed in the train of our martial leader, as different a bein 
 from my former self as were the occupants of these serried rani 
 from those with whom I formerly trod the boards of the theatre. 
 
 Then was I the shunned and guilty outcast of society, seekin 
 the byeways and hidden corners of a great city, to find eoncea 
 ment even from my nearest and dearest friends; and now, clothe 
 in the glittering panoply of a soldier, courting the admiration 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 63 
 
 the fair sex, and exciting the envy of the men, the raw unbearded 
 boy no more resembled his present self than does the caterpillar, 
 before he has thrown off his disfiguring slough, the gay and 
 glittering butterfly which floats away from flower to flower. 
 
 Few there are, I trust, and fewer I hope the^ may yet become, 
 who like myself have gone through a transition so dangerous, but 
 I believe that many of the number would have withstood the test. 
 Few there are who have gone through the purifying cauldron 
 of the world, that have not come out brighter metal, worthless 
 as may have been the ore when first cast into it, for there are 
 few who have received the early attentions of a mother, whose 
 lessons, though forgotten in the strife of battle, recur forcibly in 
 the solitude of a watch, but will acknowledge that as they were the 
 earliest imprinted on their mind, so are they with the most 
 difficulty eradicated. 
 
 No, I shall not readily forget our entrance into Milan. The 
 windows were thronged with well-dressed women, every open 
 space was crowded with spectators, while the shops, tricked out in 
 their gayest manner as if to attract the gaze of customers, gave 
 evidence of the confidence the Milanese reposed in the French. 
 But the coup d’ceil the most striking—the moment the most 
 flattering—was when we arrived in the Piazza del Duomo, 
 when the hero who commanded us beheld the transport with 
 which he was received by the immense concourse of people 
 there collected ; the reiterated applause, the universal cry of “ Vive 
 Napoleon! Vive Varmee Francais J” penetrated our souls, and 
 added not a little consequence to those who followed in the wake 
 of the conqueror, giving us that gentle pride which sits so well 
 upon the victors. 
 
 Murat followed with his division of cavalry, and with the in¬ 
 fantry and advanced guard surrounded the citadel, where 4000 
 Austrian troops had shut themselves up. The troops were 
 bivouacked on the ground they had taken, while we of the guard 
 were^billetted in quarters round the palace of theViceroy, in which 
 Napoleon took up his residence, though it would hardly be 
 believed that even there we could not find as much as a faggot 
 wherewith to dry our dripping habiliments. Truly his Serene 
 Highness the Archduke, in his hurry to vacate the palace, did not 
 leave much behind to comfort his successor. 
 
 After the guard had been set, and I had looked at my horses, 
 I was slowly sauntering down the Corso, musing on my change 
 of fortune—the near proximity of the theatre Carcano not adding 
 to the pleasures of my reminiscence—when a gentleman passed, 
 and as I raised my eyes from the ground and caught a transient 
 view of his face, the thought struck me that it was not unknown. 
 It was one of those w'e often meet with casually, without at the 
 moment being able to recal to our recollection when and where we 
 last beheld it; and while I was turning over in my mind such 
 persons as I fancied it might be, a well known voice exclaimed— 
 
 G 2 
 
64 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 “ Excuse my freedom, sir, but unless I am much mistaken, you 
 and I should be acquainted.” 
 
 “The Marchese, by all that’s wonderful,” said I; “pardon me, 
 my benefactor, that amid the varying scenes through which I have 
 passed, so many faces have been stamped upon my memory, that 
 she has for one moment ceased to recognise you.” 
 
 “ Ah ! indeed, Gazzola, the gay uniform of the soldier, which 
 well becomes you, at first deceived me, added to which you are 
 much older, and more rnanly-looking ; but for once the old 
 proverb is reversed, and I, who am greatly your debtor, was more 
 ready to recognise you than you were to know me. Come, come, 
 man, no apologies ; I am dying to hear of your changed fortunes, 
 added to which there is one as greatly your debtor as myself, and 
 we cannot do better than seek her.” 
 
 The warmth of my friend did away with any little scruples I 
 might have had in re-commencing an intimacy with one so much 
 my superior, but then I hoped to be a general of division in thd 
 course of time, and knew that he would not despise me for the 
 scenes through which I had been obliged to pass. 
 
 I would at this moment gladly have declined the proposed visit 
 until I had thrown off my stable dress and clothed myself in a 
 garb more fitting the presence of a lady ; this the Marchese 
 would by no means allow. “ Come, man,” said he ; “ come at 
 once ; Adela will be none the less glad to see you that you are 
 not decked out in your gayest uniform. ’Tis not the glittering 
 tinsel that she values; so come at once!” As he would take 
 no denial, I passed my arm through his, and accompanied him 
 to the Palazzo Cusani, where he had been residing for the last 
 twelve months. 
 
 Entering the boudoir of the Marchesa, who was sitting with her 
 back towards the door, playing with her little boy, whose lucky 
 rescue first led me to their acquaintance, he exclaimed, “Adela, 1 
 bring you an old friend, and not the less welcome that he is 
 totally unexpected.” If I had little reason to complain of the 
 warmth of her husband’s manner towards me, still less was there 
 to find fault with in that of the Marchesa. He plied me with 
 questions until I had given him the history of my doings since we 
 parted at Verona ; and when the relation was complete, nothing 
 would do but that I must make their house my abode during m) 
 stay in Milan, which he prognosticated would be but short ; so 
 notwithstanding my remonstrances to the contrary, a servant was 
 despatched for my baggage, and in a few hours I found mysel 
 domesticated in his hospitable mansion, and an honoured guest a 
 his board. 
 
 How I blessed the change which enabled me to feel that, althougl 
 I could not aspire to be the equal of the noble, not a blush c 
 shame need cross his cheek at making me his companion ; an 
 proud indeed did I feel, that I could now be the escort of th 
 high-born dame, and no sense of degradation enter like iron int 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 6-3 
 
 my soul. The little fellow I had saved, had grown, and now, a 
 sprightly child, would play with some article of rny uniform, or 
 ride on my sword to the evident delight of his parents. 
 
 On the day after our arrival in Milan, a grand ball was given 
 at the Scala Theatre, and to which Marchese insisted I should 
 accompany him. It was the first entertainment of the kind I had 
 witnessed since I had left the stage, and the recollection of my 
 former avocation conveyed too little pleasure to induce me to do 
 anything to recalit; but the lady added her entreaties to those 
 of her lord, and as she would need a cavalier, I was fain to 
 comply. 
 
 Giustiniana had been induced to leave Verona soon after the 
 occupation of Venice by the French, and had removed to Milan 
 without mixing at all in political matters. Looked at with distrust 
 by those in authority, and not too well loved by the rulers of the 
 city in which he had taken up his abode, he lived in retirement, 
 mixing little in society, but like many of the young nobles of 
 Italy, he had imbibed some notions of liberty, and though born an 
 aristocrat, and descended from a long line of ancestors, who had 
 formerly occupied the ducal chair in Venice, he wanted but the 
 intimacy of a few French officers to become a thorough republican. 
 But for his attachment to his wife and child, he would doubtless 
 have joined the French army ; but be that as it may, he welcomed 
 its entrance into Milan, the more so as during the former cam¬ 
 paign he had made the acquaintance of Generals Berthier and 
 Lannes. 
 
 He had renewed his acquaintance, and as I was slightly known 
 to each, (the former indeed had offered me an appointment on his 
 staff) he hoped by affording me his countenance at the ball to do 
 me some service. It was kindly meant, for although the slight 
 insight I had received of the duties of officer of ordonnance, had 
 made me decline an appointment I thought hardly equal to that of 
 a courier, I was in daily expectation of receiving my promotion, 
 and my ambition was at this moment limited to a lieutenancy in 
 the guard. 
 
 As I returned from the Piazza after morning parade, a note, 
 without signature or address, was put into my hands by a boy 
 who immediately mixed with the crowd, and was lost to sight 
 ere I had time to ask from whence it came. It contained these 
 words :—“ If you are the same person who was discovered by a 
 dog in the theatre at Alessandria, meet me in the passage leading 
 out of the Duorno this evening at ten, while the world is at the 
 Scala.” 
 
 W ho could by possibility know me now ? W T ho had seen me 
 in the situation to which the note referred ? I puzzled my brain, 
 and returned to the palazzo to dress without having come to any 
 satisfactory conclusion. That no harm was meant me, I felt 
 certain ; and at last I made up my mind that the only person who 
 could know any thing of me must be a former companion on 
 
 G 3 
 
SCENES IN "JHE LIFE OF 
 
 66 
 
 the stage, who, used to the varied changes of the scene, had less 
 difficulty in recognising me. 
 
 I determined, therefore, to accompany my friends to the ball, 
 and, desiring my servant to attend at the theatre at the stated 
 hour with my pistols, to take an opportunity to steal out unob¬ 
 served, and give my mysterious acquaintance the meeting. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 THE BALL. 
 
 “ The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men ; 
 
 A thousand hearts beat happily; and when 
 Music arose with its voluptuous swell, 
 
 Soft eyes look’d love to eyes which spoke again, 
 
 And all went merry as a marriage bell.” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Dressed in my gayest uniform, I entered the carriage which 
 contained the Marchesa and her spouse, and away we rattled to 
 the Scala, the street in front of which was already thronged with 
 carriages, bearing the lovely belles of Milan to the ball. 
 
 All the beauty and fashion of the city was present, for though 
 the notice was short, still in this abode of the goddess Terpsichore 
 there was no difficulty in getting up an impromptu affair of this 
 kind ; and as we entered the pit, converted for this occasion into 
 a salle de danse, I found myself the observed of all observers, for 
 the rank of the party I accompanied was a sufficient passport to 
 any society. Generals of division, gay colonels of regiments, 
 subalterns of both cavalry and infantry regiments—horse, foot, 
 and dragoons—all were there, and though last not least, he who 
 had led these various officers to victory was also present, dressed 
 in the uniform of the guides, a corps for which he bore great 
 partiality, and whose plain and simple garb he often assumed. 
 No medal nor epaulette adorned him, the small gold arrow on the 
 collar being the only decoration he wore. 
 
 Berthier, Lannes, Murat, the soldier of fortune, Duroc, first 
 aid-de-camp, Le Marai, Bourrienne, and a host of others whose 
 names were then familiar, but have since escaped my recollection, 
 moved in the brilliant throng, and as we pressed on towards the 
 stage few passed without exchanging a word with the Marchesa, 
 and fewer still to whom I was known, but wondered how I became 
 the companion of the handsome woman then hanging on my arm. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 67 
 
 Shall I confess that I felt much less at my ease than if I had 
 been charging the enemy at the head of my troop. The recollection 
 of how I had last trod the stage of a theatre came ever and anon 
 to remind me of what I had been, and made me but a sorry 
 companion. However the kindness of the Marchesa, who honored 
 me with her hand in the waltz, in some measure re-assured me, 
 and I was just beginning to throw off the gloom that enshrouded 
 me, when the warning note of time reminded me of my appoint¬ 
 ment, and whispering in the ear of the Marchesa that I should 
 shortly return, I hurried into the street, donning the cloak my 
 servant had provided me, I seized my pistols and sought the 
 Piazza del Duomo. I was thinking of the unfortunate being who 
 had met his fate here as I passed some years since, when I saw a 
 man near the same spot, who, from his loitering pace, and studious 
 desire of concealment under the shade of the building, 1 fancied 
 ought to be my correspondent. Pistol in hand I passed and 
 re-passed him, and the second time he exclaimed, “Your pardon, 
 signor, but are you not Jean Baptiste Gazzola?” 
 
 “The same,” was my reply, “but you have somewhat the 
 best of me ; and what may be your business with one to whom 
 you are unknown ?” 
 
 “ Not so; but time that has made some change in your features, 
 although I immediately recognised them, may have totally oblite¬ 
 rated mine from your memory, especially as the night is none 
 of the brightest, still you and I were once well known to each 
 other. I was engaged with you at the theatre of Crema, and 
 afterwards at Alessandria, and was on the stage the evening that 
 your dog Bruno discovered your incognito. I remember you well, 
 as also the affair of the Ballerina; and although circumstances 
 have since led me into other pursuits, and induced me now to 
 bear a name you would fail to recognise, I am still in a situation 
 to do a friend some service, if the desire should be reciprocal. 
 I am under a pressing necessity to see the First Consul, but as 
 certain death would follow were I known to be here, I have 
 sought to make him aware of my presence through the medium 
 of some third *party. In this I have hitherto failed, two or three 
 of my old acquaintances having been absent when I sent to them ; 
 time pressed, and recognizing you in the street, I watched your 
 footsteps, and sought this interview. Take this ring to the First 
 Consul, and tell him the wearer seeks an audience; he is now at 
 the ball, to which you may return and watch your opportunity, 
 but fail me not, as you would rise in the service you have 
 embraced.” 
 
 Truly this was no pleasant task to be undertaken for one whose 
 acquaintance I w’ould rather not have renewed, as it bore too 
 many reminiscences of the past, but the more I demurred, the 
 more earnest became his entreaties, till at last, on his pledging 
 himself that no possible evil could result to me, I consented to be 
 his messenger, and taking the ring returned to the theatre. 
 
68 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Luckily, on my entrance, I saw the object of my mission in close 
 conversation with the Marchese ; so, assuming a nonchalance I 
 was very far from feeling, I strolled past them, when my friend 
 exclaimed, “ The very man I spoke of ; this, general, is the 
 officer I mentioned to you ; allow me to present to you my friend 
 Gazzola.” “ He is already favourably known to me,” was his 
 reply, and was about to pass on, when I requested a few minutes 
 conversation. 
 
 Notwithstanding that my request was immediately complied 
 with, his countenance betrayed his surprise, and when I showed 
 him the ring, he eagerly demanded where and how I became 
 possessed of it. On my affording him the requisite information, 
 he desired me to return to the person who sent me, and to 
 accompany him, in an hour, to his private cabinet. “ I will,” 
 continued he, “ make your excuses to the Marchese, and say that 
 in all probability I may detain you for some time.” 
 
 Little dreaming the purpose of my former acquaintance, I 
 hurried back, and found him waiting my return; we crossed the 
 piazza to the palace, and passing in by a private entrance, entered 
 the waiting room. In a short time my name was called by an 
 attendant, and we were shown into the private cabinet, where 
 Napoleon was sitting, dictating to his secretary. “ Wait outside 
 the door,” said the former, “ and let no man enter, but be ready 
 when I call so making him a bow, I retired leaving the door 
 slightly ajar. I had no wish to overhear the conversation, and 
 retired to the farther part of the room, which was untenanted, 
 save by myself ; but though unwilling to play the eaves-dropper, 
 I could not get beyond the sound of their voices. 
 
 “What!” said the First Consul, to the man I had introduced, 
 “ you here ; have they not shot you yet ?” 
 
 “ No, general,” was the reply; “ not yet: you were absent in 
 Egypt when the war re-commenced, and I determined to abandon 
 an occupation that was never much to my taste; but no man 
 can control his destiny. I had not made enough to keep me ; 
 let me once succeed in that, and I will give it up—till then I 
 must take my chance. I determined to serve the Austrians in 
 your absence, and have been sent by General Melas ; but I can 
 give you an exact account of his force, the names of their com¬ 
 manders, and their position. From me you may learn the present 
 situation of Alessandria, and you know me too well to believe I 
 would deceive you ; but I must have some information to carry 
 back to the general, and you need not fear giving me some true 
 particulars, which 1 can report to him.” 
 
 “As to that,” replied the First Consul, “ the enemy is welcome 
 to know my force and position, provided I know his, and can keep 
 him in ignorance of my plans. You shall be satisfied : serve me 
 well, and I will reward you ; but if you deceive me, vengeance shall 
 overtake you when you least expect it. Your reward shall be a 
 thousand louis ;—but beware !” 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 69 
 
 It was a spy, then, I had been instrumental in bringing here, 
 and however much they may profit by the treason, few feel any 
 respect for the traitor. A silence ensued, and the secretary wrote 
 down, from the dictation of the spy, the names of the corps, their 
 force, position, and by whom they were commanded. I was called 
 into the room, and observed Napoleon sticking pins into a map, 
 on which he marked his plans, respecting which the spy had 
 enlightened him. “ Call General Berthier,” said he to me, “ and 
 return here ; but mark, sir, I forgot your proximity, beware how 
 you divulge what you have overheard.” 
 
 I hastened to the quarters of the general, with whom I returned 
 to the cabinet. The spy repeated what he had said, and added, 
 that Alessandria was ill-provisioned, and Melas little dreamt of our 
 besieging it, that many of his troops were on the sick list, and 
 were short of medicines, and other necessaries. Berthier was 
 ordered to draw up a nearly accurate statement of our position, 
 and this being given to the spy, we departed. On quitting him, 
 I bade him farewell, I trusted for ever, for a loathing of his 
 infamous profession came over me, making me disgusted with the 
 duty that obliged me to consort with him, even for so short a 
 period. 
 
 Towards the end of the campaign, we met again by accident, 
 and he then told me that Buonaparte, finding his information very 
 accurate and useful, had paid him the thousand louis, while Melas 
 was so delighted with the manner in which he had served him, 
 that he, too, had paid him handsomely. “ I am now content/’ 
 added he, “ and will abandon the odious occupation, and return 
 again to the stage.” 
 
 The First Consul, with his guard, remained seven days at Milan. 
 Enjoyment of every kind was offered to those who could take 
 advantage of it, and the time went merrily on. The troops, of 
 whom the distribution was well regulated, and who desired nothing 
 but to be well fed and lodged, were content ; but more greedy 
 of glory than pleasure, they envied not those whose pleasures 
 were greater than their own. 
 
 Under Buonaparte, however, Milan was not destined to be long 
 our resting place. General Melas was not far from us, while a 
 large force was concentrated before Genoa, which, under the 
 command of Massena, still held out. Either Melas was deceived 
 as to our strength, or else he awaited orders from Vienna, the 
 Emperor desiring to render himself master of that city, no matter 
 at what cost, General Orello was, therefore, despatched to Plaisance 
 and General Ott on the Tessin ; in fact, he hoped to cause a 
 diversion, and pushed forward six thousand men on the Po to 
 Chivasso, the advanced posts extending even as far as Verceil, 
 one of which was cut off’, three hundred men falling into our 
 hands. 
 
 I must confess I parted from my kind friends with regret, but 
 more stirring duties soon served to obliterate them, and to these 
 
i 
 
 70 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 I again addressed myself. My position was elevated by my sojourn 
 in Milan, many of the officers who had rather shunned my 
 acquaintance now seeking it. This stimulated me the more, and 
 I looked forward to the hour when promotion should enable me 
 to hold my head with the highest, determined, as the war pro¬ 
 ceeded, to leave no stone unturned to satisfy my commander. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 PASSAGE OF THE PO. 
 
 “ But hark !—that heavy sound breaks in once more 
 As if the clouds its echo would repeat; 
 
 And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before !” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Without taking credit to himself as an astute politician, able 
 geographer, or great tactitian, there were certain signs by which 
 even the least instructed soldier could see that the battle so much 
 desired by both armies was necessary to decide the fate of Italy. 
 None but a Frenchman, and one, too, inspired by the confidence 
 which success so justly engenders, could shut his eyes to the 
 dangers which seemed to surround us on every side. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the Austrian General Melas had 
 deceived himself with the belief that the French army consisted 
 only of five or six thousand men, who were intended to make an 
 incursion into the north of Italy to relieve Massena, then shut up 
 in Genoa. Nevertheless, alarmed at the progress of this small 
 force, or what is more probable, better acquainted with its strength, 
 he decided on quitting Turin and concentrating his forces on the 
 strong places in Piedmont, with the double intention of holding 
 the French in check and of effecting a junction with General 
 Elnitz, who was returning from France, whither he had been 
 despatched. 
 
 For this purpose his troops were in position as described in the 
 last chapter, and in this state of affairs our army prepared for 
 the encounter. 
 
 On the 7th of May, Murat, at the head of his division, marched 
 upon Plaisance. In spite of 600 men, supported by a well-served 
 battery, he carried the outworks at the bridge, but the enemy 
 had time to destroy the latter, and seemed determined to defend 
 the passage with the greatest obstinacy, so Murat amused them 
 there, while the 9th light infantry and 59th regiment of the line 
 seized some shallops at Noretto, with which they crossed, and. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 71 
 
 attacking Plaisance on the other side, took six hundred prisoners. 
 Cavalry, infantry, commissaries, surgeons, apothecaries, guns, 
 caissons, baggage waggons, entered pell-mell into the citadel, 
 whence they kept up a devastating fire, until at last they were 
 forced to surrender one hour only before General Melas informed 
 them of the convention made at Alessandria, they were in con¬ 
 sequence prisoners of war. 
 
 However, the advanced guard, together with the main body of 
 the army, took up a position on the Po, which at this point is 
 joined by the Tessin, and becomes a wide and rapid river. Our 
 next meeting was not to be an affair of outposts, or a combat 
 of soldiers scattered and re-assembled in haste astormerly, for the 
 advanced guard of the Austrian army consisted of 15,000 or 
 18,000 men, picked troops, who had been told that we were nothing 
 but recruits, and who, inflamed by their former successes under 
 General Scherer, awaited us on the opposite oank of the river. 
 The former affairs had been of little importance in comparison 
 with that which was about to begin, and men looked to the result 
 with the most intense interest. 
 
 Buonaparte now issued one of those spirit-stirring proclama¬ 
 tions which he knew so well accorded with the vanity of the 
 French, concluding in these words :— 
 
 “ But shall any one with impunity violate the territory of 
 France ? Will you suffer to return to their hearths the men who 
 have carried alarm into the bosom of your families ? No ! Fly 
 to arms, march to the encounter, oppose yourselves to their retreat, 
 snatch from them the laurels with which they have covered them¬ 
 selves, and so show to the world that the frowns of destiny are 
 sure to fall on those who have the folly to insult the territory 
 of the Great People. The result of all our efforts will be glory 
 without a cloud—peace—lasting peace !” 
 
 Such were the means used by the First Consul to stimulate his 
 men ; meanwhile our force increased every day. A strong 
 division of the army of the Rhine had marched from Ulm, and 
 having traversed the Grisons and crossed the St. Gothard, had, like 
 us, overcome all the difficulties of such a passage, hunger not the 
 least of the number, and arrived just in time to share our dangers 
 and our triumphs. They had been obliged to leave their artil¬ 
 lery behind. 
 
 The grenadiers and carabineers of the advanced guard solicited 
 the honour to be first across the Po, while the rest of the battalions 
 burned with impatience as these brave fellows crowded into the 
 boats. The enemy seemed struck with their daring, and suffered 
 them to land unmolested ; but their numbers increased at each 
 moment, and their courage sustained them on the bank of the 
 river. Now flying bridges were quickly established, the whole of 
 the advanced guard passed over, and cheering each other, com¬ 
 menced the attack which the Austrians sustained with firmness. 
 
 Then General Lannes ordered the charge, and his courage and 
 
72 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 coolness made us redouble our efforts. The 6th light infantry, 
 the 22nd, 28th, and 44th regiments of the line, bayonet in hand, 
 threw themselves on the enemy, whom they drove back into a 
 morass, pursuing them as far as Stradella, on the road from 
 Plaisance to Tortona. Here prudence checked their impetuosity, 
 and suggested the recal ; night came on, and each man retired to 
 his post in the hope that the combat would recommence on the 
 morrow. 
 
 The sun had scarcely illumined the horizon, when the advanced 
 posts began to bestir themselves. The artillery opened the attack, 
 while the battalions moved into position. Our light artillery, 
 together with that of the Cousular Guard, were soon in motion. 
 Montebello, which gave the name to this bloody day, was taken 
 and retaken, the resistance was equally obstinate on both sides, 
 although the numbers were not alike. Our advanced guard 
 consisting of six thousand infantry, and one thousand cavalry, had 
 as yet borne the whole brunt of the battle, but Watrin’s division 
 advanced, determined to force a passage. While these things were 
 doing, six battalions of the enemy, and several fresh squadrons, 
 threw themselves on our advanced guard. Their numerous 
 cavalry, profiting by the advantages of the ground, charged the 
 11th and 12th hussars, and the shock was terrible, the carnage 
 awful, nevertheless they held their own, during two hours, car¬ 
 rying San Diletto at the point of the bayonet, and marching on 
 Casteggio, which was bravely defended. 
 
 Just then Watrin’s division came up, and in the twinkling 
 of an eye the aspect of affairs was changed ; the whole corps 
 engaged seemed animated by a fresh impulse. Again the charge 
 was sounded ; the enemy hesitated, wavered, and fled as if en- 
 gulphed in a torrent. The wheat and rye were so tall as to impede 
 the view. Austrians and French pursued each other without 
 being certain of their respective forces ; the terrible bayonets 
 were crossed, carrying on all sides certain death. The impetuous 
 courage of the French prevailed ; the Austrians, broken at all 
 points, gave way, while the mitraille, dealing destruction at 
 every point, augmented the confusion. The rout became complete, 
 and the enemy retired precipitately on Voghera, abandoning the 
 field more quickly than happens in a simple retreat. 
 
 Six thousand prisoners, five pieces of cannon, many general 
 and field-officers killed or wounded, the earth covered with the 
 bodies of the dead and the dying, attested the obstinacy of the 
 fight, and must have satisfied Melas that they were veteran 
 troops instead of raw recruits to whom he had been opposed. 
 
 The First Consul, willing to manage all himself, had left Milan 
 early in the morning ; he staid one hour only in Pavia, and 
 passing the Po, came up with the advanced guard in the moment 
 of victory. 
 
 Considering the number of troops that were engaged, this was 
 one of the most obstinate and bloody engagements it had ever 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 73 
 
 been ray fate to witness. I had two horses shot under me, and 
 received a slight wound from a sabre cut, while fifteen of my troop 
 fell to rise no more. 
 
 The conflict was so terrible, that our general, in describing it a 
 few days afterwards, said, “ Bones were cracking like a shower 
 of hail falling on a skylightand so highly did he esteem the 
 honour of the victory, that when in after years, the policy of the 
 Emperor bestowed on him the baton and a title, he chose that of 
 the Due de Montebello. 
 
 From the prisoners we learnt the fall of Genoa, and the honor¬ 
 able capitulation of Massena. This unhappy event caused a great 
 sensation in the army, although our success, in some measure, 
 soothed the bitterness of the misfortune. It was, for the moment, 
 a great calamity, which two days afterwards served to augment 
 our triumph, having the glory to engage the whole Austrian 
 force, and to achieve one of the most memorable victories on 
 record. 
 
 Spite of the reduction of Genoa, General Melas had taken up 
 t an extraordinary position previous to the affair of Montebello, 
 j and this became much worse afterwards, because, in evacuating 
 Stradella, he had lost the means of securing his retreat. 
 
 General Dessaix, who was a great favourite of the First Consul, 
 had lately arrived at Paris from Egypt, and been ordered to join 
 I the army of Italy, without delay. Though not in time to share 
 | the glories of the field, he was soon enough to witness the effects, 
 and the whole army was overjoyed to possess a general as brave 
 i and beloved as he was. It is well said, that one happiness never 
 arrives but it is followed by another, and what could exceed ours 
 ! on the advent of victory, to receive into our ranks this model of a 
 hero ? He was immediately appointed lieutenant-general. 
 
 Ours was not the only regiment that suffered severely in the 
 affair at Montebello. The 12th regiment of Chasseurs a Cheval, 
 of the army of the Rhine, had marched from Memmingen to 
 Milan in 19 days, and mustered on the evening before about 220 
 horses. Lieutenant-General Victor ordered them to take up a 
 position on his left flank, which they immediately proceeded to 
 occupy. Opposed to them were 1,500 of the enemy’s cavalry, 
 supported by a brigade of artillery, under the command of an 
 Austrian General, who was charged with the siege of Tortona. 
 At the moment when they were ordered to rejoin General Victor, 
 they were attacked in full force, lost three-fourths of their men in 
 ; killed, wounded, or taken prisoners, but succeeded in keeping the 
 ! enemy in check, and regaining the head quarters, and were so 
 happy as to have interrupted the advance of this strong column 
 of the Austrians. It was in this corps that Murat made his first 
 campaign ; they were now under the command of Colonel Defranc, 
 and had covered themselves with glory, in thus withstanding a 
 corps eight times more numerous than themselves. 
 
 Head-quarters were at Voghera the morrow after the battle of 
 
74 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Montebello, through which town the whole army marched in its 
 advance on Tortona. In passing under the windows of the First 
 Consul, we saw General Dessaix and an officer who had come in 
 with a flag of truce. The joy that revelled in our hearts was 
 expressed in our countenances, and loud cries of “ Vive Buona¬ 
 parte” were repeated from all sides. With bands playing and 
 colours flying, regiment after regiment passed on, and when it 
 came to the turn of the grenadiers of the Guards, their band struck 
 up the burlesque air which answers to the words, “ We attacked 
 them in the flank j” and I remarked that this allusion caused a 
 blush on the cheek of the Austrian officer. The army took up a 
 position before Tortona in column by divisions. The advanced 
 guard surrounded the place, and the day passed on without any 
 remarkable occurrence ; the only thing we made sure of was, that 
 the Austrian army had retired on the road to Genoa, establishing 
 its head-quaiters at Alessandria. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 MARENGO. 
 
 -The steed, 
 
 The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
 
 Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 
 
 And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; 
 
 And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; 
 
 And near the beat of the alarming drum 
 Roused up the soldier ere the morning star. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 On the 13th of June the army abandoned its position before 
 Tortona, taking the route to Alessandria. The advanced guard 
 halted at San Juliano, a hamlet of three farms, about a league from 
 Tortona, and just at the entrance of the plain of Marengo. The 
 First Consul and a thousand of the guard, together with the staff 
 of the army, took up their quarters here. When the main body 
 came, they were formed in order of battle, and marched on to the 
 plain. The enemy appeared at the bridge over the Bormida, from 
 which a feeble attempt was made to dislodge him; but although 
 our disposition announced our intention to give battle. General 
 Melas seemed to decline it, either that his reinforcement from Genoa 
 had not come up, or else that he was deceived in the strength of 
 our force. 
 
 The First Consul, accompanied by the guard a cheval and a 
 light field piece, passed over every portion of the plain. He rode 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 75 
 
 about 40 yards in advance, examining attentively the nature of the 
 ground, frequently giving way to fits of abstraction, which were 
 interrupted by a succession of orders. Evening crept on and we 
 were still on horseback; still our leader seemed lost in thought, 
 when a diipping rain came on, wetting every man, even the First 
 Consul, to the skin, he, like the rest of us, having forgotten his 
 cloak—and so chilling our limbs that we were obliged to dismount 
 to re-animate the circulation. 
 
 Some chasseurs brought two or three fagots to dry the garments 
 of the Consul, and those of the other chiefs. And there, seated 
 before a fire, his chin resting on the back of a chair placed in 
 the middle of the plain, and ankle-deep in mud, surrounded by 
 the elite of his generals, sat the First Magistrate of the French, 
 he who one little month before walked the marble halls of the 
 National Palace of the Tuilleries. 
 
 Flere were brought many deserters from the Austrian force, 
 and some prisoners, among the rest an officer from Bussy’s legion, 
 wearing the cross of St. Louis. Buonaparte questioned them with 
 great interest, nor were they a little surprised when they were 
 informed that he in the gray frock to whom they had been talking 
 was the First Consul. 
 
 We lay down to rest at San Juliano at eleven o’clock, the 
 troops who had been under arms all day bivouacking on the 
 ground, and the army soon appeared wrapped in profound repose, 
 little thinking of the morrow. 
 
 The morning of the 14th commenced, the heavy firing of cannon 
 soon aroused us from our repose, and breakfast was dispatched 
 with as much rapidity as the supper of the preceding night. The 
 army was formed in double echelon in two lines. As for me, I was in 
 attendance on the First Consul, a post that afforded me an oppor¬ 
 tunity of witnessing the conduct of that extraordinary man. 
 
 At eight a.m., the enemy had not displayed any extraordinary 
 vigour. He attacked some weak points, and made his dispositions 
 accordingly. We had no notion of his intentions till towards noon, 
 when he advanced in three columns, and the action became general. 
 
 Berthier was despatched to the field, and the aides-de-camp 
 quickly followed each other with accounts of the progress of the 
 battle. The front of the Austrian force now exceeded two leagues, 
 extending to the bridge over the Bormida, San Stephano being 
 the principal point of attack, his hope being to take Voghera, and 
 cut off our retreat. By and by the wounded began to arrive, and 
 from them we learnt that the Austrians were in force ; and those 
 who had made some campaigns were aware that if the enemy did 
 not possess the fury of the French, they were not deficient in 
 perseverance. 
 
 At eleven the Consul was in the saddle, and cantered off to the 
 field of battle, ordering up the troops in the rear, but Dessaix, who 
 was in command of the reserve, was still far distant. The 
 incessant booming of cannon and rattling of small arms, told that 
 
 H 2 
 
76 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 the field was hotly contested, while the number of wounded carried 
 to the rear was immense. Seeing them pass, Napoleon said, 
 “ One cannot but regret not to have shared their dangers and to 
 have been wounded.” But the obstinacy of the Austrians prevailed, 
 and our troops began to give way. Napoleon perceiving this, 
 placed himself at the head of the division of Lannes, determined 
 to lead them in person ; he ordered different movements, hoping 
 to take the enemy in flank, but a cry broke from the ranks, “ We 
 are unwilling that the First Consul should expose himself.” Such 
 was the generous devotion of the troops, who forgot their own 
 danger in that of their chief, many of them preferring death where 
 they stood to the disgrace of retiring before the enemy under the 
 eyes of their general. 
 
 At noon all doubt ceased, and we became aware of the unwel¬ 
 come truth that the whole Austrian force was engaged ; they 
 having accepted the battle which they yesterday declined. 
 
 The right wing, under General Victor, began to give ground, 
 retiring under the fire of twenty-four pieces of cannon, which 
 protected the advance of the enemy, raining on their devoted 
 heads a shower of shot and shells, throwing the infantry into 
 disorder, and mowing down the cavalry by whole troops. By and 
 by the firing advanced towards us, a frightful cannonade was heard 
 in the centre, while that near the Bormida suddenly ceased. We 
 were in a state of inexpressible anxiety, hoping that our troops 
 maintained their ground, a hope unfounded for the wounded who 
 passed, declared that the right wing was giving way. 
 
 When the First Consul advanced, the courage of our troops 
 seemed revived, and the Guard, as yet unemployed, prepared 
 themselves for the attack. A cloud of Austrian cavalry debouched 
 rapidly on the plain, and formed just before us, masking several 
 pieces of light artillery, which were soon brought into action. 
 Berthier, who was charged by them, was forced to retire on us, 
 but Murat, at the head of his dragoons, took them in flank, 
 covering the retreat of our infantry, and protecting the right flank 
 of Victor’s division. 
 
 The grenadiers of the Consular Guard came up at this moment 
 at double quick time, and formed with as much coolness as if on 
 parade, about one hundred yards in advance of the spot on which 
 the First Consul was placed. Without being supported by artillery 
 or cavalry, in number about five hundred only, they well deserved 
 the epithet of the “ Wall of Granite,” for they withstood the 
 impetuous attack of the conquering army. Regardless of the force 
 by whom they were opposed, again the enemy charged, beating 
 down every thing in his passage ; again the haughty black eagle 
 hovered over their devoted ranks, threatening them with anni¬ 
 hilation, while a single ball killed three grenadiers and a fourrier. 
 Charged three times by cavalry, riddled by the muskets of the 
 infantry, discharged at fifty paces distance only, they formed 
 square, and putting their colours and their wounded in the centre. 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 77 
 
 their ammunition being exhausted, and further resistance useless, 
 they retired slowly, and in good order, and rejoined the rear¬ 
 guard, who had been astonished at the coolness and discipline they 
 had displayed. 
 
 Nevertheless, the whole army was in retreat, the centre giving 
 way, while the enemy extended his front, and turned our wings. 
 On the right, especially, his success was complete, and on the 
 left he seemed advancing on our head-quarters, while the garrison 
 of Tortona being apprized of our situation, made a sortie. Thus 
 encompassed on all sides, our fate seemed certain. 
 
 The First Consul, who was always in the centre, cheered on the 
 brave men who still defended the road and the defile through 
 which it passed. It was bounded on one side by a wood, while the 
 vines on the other were tall and luxuriant; the village of Marengo 
 was to the left of this spot, so cruelly memorable. What rivers of 
 blood flowed here ! We had nothing to oppose to the constantly 
 increasing number of our conquering foes but the discipline and 
 long-tried courage of the troops. Our artillery was partly dis¬ 
 mounted, and some few pieces were in the hands of the Austrians ; 
 while worse even than that, we had not ammunition enough to 
 supply what were left. 
 
 Thirty pieces of cannon, well served, thundered away upon us, 
 cutting in two, horses and men and trees, the branches of which 
 increased our misfortunes, by crushing in their fall those unhappy 
 beings who could not move out of the way. 
 
 At four, p.m., there were certainly not more than 6000 infantry, 
 1000 cavalry, and six pieces of cannon, within a circle of two 
 miles, that could be called efficient. I may be accused of exag¬ 
 geration in this statement, but I have no doubt of its being correct, 
 and reflection will make its truth apparent. One third of our 
 army was hors de combat j a want of proper vehicles to trans¬ 
 port the wounded from the field, obliged another third to be 
 occupied in this service. Whoever could furnish a plausible excuse 
 took care to absent himself from his corps ; thirst and famine 
 drove many away, while the Tirailleurs had mostly lost the 
 direction of their corps ; but those who remained were so oc¬ 
 cupied in vigorously defending the defile, of which I have before 
 spoken, that they had little time to think of what was going on in 
 the rear. 
 
 In the advance of the guard, Jean Carlin, a chasseur a pied y 
 received several wounds, and was left on the field for dead. 
 When we retired he was surrounded by the soldiers of Bussy’s 
 legion, who proceeded to strip him. Having taken all his gar¬ 
 ments save his shirt they were beginning to tear that from him, 
 when his cries attracted the notice of an Austrian colonel, who, 
 coming up at the moment, laid about him with his cane, and 
 dispersed the plunderers. “ To what regiment do you belong/’ 
 said the colonel, addressing the prisoner whom he thought an 
 officer. “ I belong to the Consular Guard, now facing you,” 
 
 H 3 
 
78 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 said the chasseur. “ And a brave corps too,” said the colonel; 
 “ come with me to the rear, and the surgeon of our regiment shall 
 attend to your wounds.” This the wounded man was unable to 
 do, so the surgeon was brought to him, and he was conveyed to 
 the rear on the ambulance. Some hours elapsed and the fortune 
 of war changed ; the Austrian did not lose sight of his prisoner, 
 but offered his services to convey him to Alessandria, which 
 the chasseur, hoping for his deliverance declined, with many 
 thanks for the kindness he had already manifested towards him. 
 In a short time our troops relieved him. 
 
 To return to the battle. It was now after four, and the day 
 seemed lost, the star of Napoleon was about to sink before the 
 veteran Austrian, and in this awful time, when the dead and 
 dying covered the earth, Napoleon determined not to give way. 
 In the midst of the balls which ploughed up the earth under 
 the very feet of his charger, surrounded by troopers who were 
 every instant falling round him, he gave his orders with as much 
 coolness and sany froid as if he had been at a review, and appeared 
 to contemplate the storm which approached without one atom of 
 personal fear. Amongst those who saw him thus forgetful of 
 the danger that menaced themselves, the cry was, “ Does he 
 seek death ; why does he not retire ?” and it is said that General 
 Berthier entreated him to fall back. I had the curiosity to listen 
 most attentively to his voice, and to examine his features with 
 care; and although the bravest of men—the hero the most pas¬ 
 sionate for glory, might appear moved and not be accused of 
 cowardice, he was not. Even at the moment when fortune 
 seemed about to forsake him, he was still the Buonaparte of 
 Arcole and Aboukir. 
 
 Who, then, under these cirumstances, would have dreamt 
 that in two hours time the fortune of war would have changed— 
 that instead of being beaten we should have become the con- 
 querers, having taken 10,000 prisoners, some generals, fifteen 
 standards, and 40 pieces of cannon ?—that the enemy would 
 deliver up eleven fortified places, and evacuate the north of Italy ? 
 Who, while regiment after regiment poured down upon us, would 
 have believed that in a few short hours an armistice would be 
 concluded, giving lasting peace to the two countries ? Had any 
 one prognosticated such a state of things, we should have con¬ 
 sidered it an insult in our desperate situation, and yet all came 
 to pass. 
 
 V 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 79 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 MARENGO. 
 
 Before the Austrian eagle, that of Gaul 
 
 Bowed down its head upon Marengo’s plain, 
 
 Of carnage there was sure enough to pall 
 The veriest glutton. Myriads of the slain 
 Attest the fierceness of the fight. Again 
 They rally ; who shall say that all 
 Is lost,save honour ? I the morn would fain 
 
 Believe a bloody dream, from which we woke, nor 'woke in vain. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 General Berthier now approached the First Consul, and com¬ 
 municated the intelligence that the army was giving way, and 
 the route beginning. Napoleon replied, “ General, yon do not 
 make the announcement with calmness the firmness which had 
 distinguished him, never abandoning him in the moment of danger. 
 The 59th regiment of the line came up directy after, when the 
 First Consul advanced towards them and said, “ Come on, ray 
 brave fellows, display your standards ; this is the moment to 
 distinguish yourselves ; I depend on your courage to avenge your 
 comrades.” The words had scarcely passed from his lips before 
 a ball struck down the five foremost men; he turned again, 
 towards the enemy, and, with an air calm and undisturbed, 
 exclaimed, “ Come on, my frends, charge !” 
 
 The fortune of the day, however, appeared to be against us, for 
 the enemy being unable to force the defile to which the whole of 
 our troops that could make head had retreated, established a for¬ 
 midable line of artillery, under the protection of which he filled 
 the wood and the vineyard on either side with infantry and sharp¬ 
 shooters. FI is cavalry, ranged in order of battle in the rear, 
 waited but the moment when we should give way, to precipitate 
 themselves on our broken ranks. If this misfortune had hap¬ 
 pened, everything would have been over: the First Consul would 
 have been killed or a prisoner, although we would have been 
 1 hacked to mince meat ere it happened. 
 
 When all appeared lost, the hour of victory struck; faithful 
 to Napoleon, she smiled once more upon us, and again guided us 
 to conquest. Already the divisions of Monnier and Dessaix began 
 to appear, and in spite of a forced march of ten leagues, they 
 arrived just in time, and forgetting their wants, seemed only 
 : animated with a desire to revenge our loss. The number of 
 fugitives and wounded that these brave men encountered was 
 enough to damp their ardour, but, with eyes fixed on Dessaix, 
 they only thought with him of missing the danger, and not sharing 
 
80 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 in the glory of the field. Alas! they little thought that in one 
 short hour they should no longer be commanded by the brave 
 general. The grenadiers retreated covered with glory, but me¬ 
 nacing with the bayonet the troops of Bussy’s legion, who had 
 collected the shakos of such of them as were killed or wounded, 
 and placing them on the points of their weapons, shook them 
 in derision at the survivors, who vowed vengeance on those who 
 thus insulted them. 
 
 But the hour of victory approached, borne on the breeze that 
 wafted sounds of the approach of Dessaix. Suddenly they fell 
 upon the ear of Napoleon, and renewed confidence appeared on 
 his countenance. “ Frenchmen,’’ said he, “ we have moved too 
 many steps in retreat, the moment has arrived when we should 
 advance ; remember, my practice is to sleep on the field of battle.” 
 The most enthusiastic shouts rent the air on the conclusion of 
 this brief harangue, and every one found fresh courage mounting 
 in his bosom. 
 
 Reinforcements continued to arrive—joy and hope re-entered 
 our hearts—whilst the enemy, harassed and fatigued even by 
 success, which had cost him dear, was still kept at bay by some 
 brave troops, who, ignorant that relief had arrived, had resolved 
 to perish on this new Thermopylae rather than surrender. 
 
 General Melas, finding the resistance in the centre so dogged, 
 thought that by extending each wing he should surround and 
 cut us off entirely. This movement was executed at the same 
 time, he thought without our perceiving it, his artillery still 
 rattling away at our unflinching troops ; but all had been foreseen, 
 and he was equally deceived with respect to our reinforcements; 
 in fact, always foremost in the post of honour, nothing escaped 
 Buonaparte ; he seized every occasion—directed every movement 
 —giving orders for every portion of the army with the same cool¬ 
 ness and decision that would have marked him at a review on 
 the Champ de Mars. 
 
 As soon as the first battalion of Dessaix’s division had mounted 
 the height, it formed in close column. Each man was careful 
 of his distance—each received his instructions. The First 
 Consul, General Dessaix, Lieutenants-General, Staff Officers rode 
 from rank to rank, cheering the men, and inspiring them with 
 that confidence which heralds success. The hour consumed in 
 this occupation was one of terrible length, for the Austrian artillery 
 still thundered away at us, each discharge mowing down whole 
 ranks,—men and horses fell before the devastating shower,— 
 nevertheless they kept their ground, and, as each man fell, 
 another stepped up to supply his place. During this time the 
 cavalry in our van rallied, while a great many of the infantry 
 belonging to different corps, encouraged by the appearance of 
 Dessaix’s division, returned once more to the field of battle. 
 
 All is ready—every calculation made—the battalions boil with 
 impatience to advance; the drummer, his eye fixed on the cane 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 81 
 
 of the drum-major, waits for the signal; the trumpeter, with 
 uplifted arm, is prepared to sound the advance when the intrepid 
 Dessaix places himself at the head of the column which had 
 marched ten leagues without halting, and which evinced no 
 dismay at the number of fugitives and wounded they had met. 
 Napoleon gave the signal, the terrible pas de charge sounded, 
 each corps advanced at the same moment; the fury of the French, 
 like a torrent, tore down everything that opposed its advance; in 
 the shortest possible space the defile was passed, the enemy over¬ 
 thrown at every point ; dying, living, wounded, and dead, were 
 trampled under foot. 
 
 Each chief having passed through the defile, and, being ready to 
 enter on the plain, ranged his division in the order of battle, and 
 our line soon began to present a formidable front. As each piece 
 of artillery came up it was placed in battery, and dealt death and 
 destruction upon the affrighted enemy. They wavered ; their 
 immense cavalry charged en masse with fury ; but the musketry 
 —the initraille—the bayonet arrested their career ; one of their 
 caissons blew up, the confusion was redoubled ; their disorder 
 was increased by a thick cloud of smoke from the artillery; the 
 cries of the wounded augmented their terror; in short, the whole 
 force was shaken—gave way—turned and fled. 
 
 At this moment the French cavalry entered the plain, concealing 
 the paucity of their numbers by the boldness of their daring. They 
 charged the enemy without fear of being cut off. On the right 
 appeared the illustrious and virtuous Dessaix, at the head of his 
 brave soldiers, and, like the thunder, he seemed to precede the 
 lightning—everything gave way before him—he cleared all obsta¬ 
 cles, overthrew whatever opposed his passage. The plain, 
 unequal and difficult, was levelled with the same rapidity—the 
 soldiers with their feet and hands filling up the ditches, and, 
 triumphing over all obstacles, disputing even with their officers 
 the glory of being first across On the left. General Victor, with 
 the same rapidity, carried the village of Marengo and threw himself 
 on the Bormida, in spite of the efforts of a superior force of cavalry 
 and artillery, which kept up a galling fire on his left flank. 
 
 The centre, though with fewer troops, especially cavalry, under 
 the orders of General Murat, advanced boldly on the plain, charging 
 to the very muzzles of the guns ; they galled the enemy’s centre, 
 and by this movement held in check an immense force of cavalry, 
 which could only manoeuvre under the fire of three field pieces 
 and one howitzer. Our infantry attacked them in Hank, and having 
 less distance to pass to arrive at the bridge, there cut off in their 
 turn their means of retreat. 
 
 The intrepid Dessaix, by a quick flank movement, carried San 
 Stephano on the right, cutting off the whole left wing of the 
 Austrians, while General Kellerman, with eight hundred cavalry, 
 collected from various regiments, obliged six thousand of the 
 Hungarian Grenadiers to lay down their arms, taking General 
 
82 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Zach prisoner, he falling to the lot of Riche, an officer of the 12th 
 regiment. 
 
 In this charge every officer of the 4th squadron of the 20th 
 Hussars fell, and the command devolved on Wilhem, the Quarter- 
 Master. Such was the decision and bravery he displayed, 
 that Kellerman promoted him to the command of the troop on 
 the field, the most glorious reward the ambition of a French 
 soldier could desire. 
 
 Alas ! that the hour of triumph should be clouded by regret. 
 After having saved the army, and in all probability preserved 
 his country, the friend and model of the brave—General Dessaix— 
 fell to rise no more. A ball terminated his career, which ended 
 like that of Joubert and Marceau, and I had just galloped up with 
 orders from Buonaparte, when I heard him exclaim to young 
 Lebrun, “ Say to the First Consul that my only regret is not 
 to have done more for posterity.” These were the last words 
 he ever uttered, for on my dismounting to assist him, I found 
 that the spirit which had animated one of the best and bravest of 
 men had quitted its earthly tabernacle for ever. 
 
 Flis death redoubled the courage of his troops, who now added 
 the desire for vengeance to their thirst for victory. They swore 
 to avenge him ; and, casting themselves on the Austrians, well 
 did they keep their promise. The rest of the army seconded their 
 generous efforts, while Melas strove in vain to rally his troops, 
 who fled on all sides towards Alessandria. 
 
 I returned to the Frst Consul, and communicated the loss of the 
 friend to whom he was tenderly attached. “Alas!” said he, 
 “ why is it forbidden me to weep;” but, making an effort to stifle 
 his emotions, he questioned me again as to his fate, and turned 
 towards the remains of the hero where he wept aloud. 
 
 .Night came on while the disordered troops of the enemy— 
 cavalry—infantry—artillery, crowded pell-mell on each other 
 towards the centre, blocking up the road to the river. The 
 artillery, which early in the battle they had taken from us, and 
 sent to the rear for fear it should be re-taken, obstructed the 
 passage; while General Murat, aware of the importance of aug¬ 
 menting the disorder, called on all around to follow him, advanced 
 at the trot, charging a part of their infantry, which, unable to 
 keep pace with the cavalry, were either cut in pieces or made 
 prisoners. Our proximity augmented the confusion of the fugitives. 
 The grenadiers a cheval , and chasseurs of the guard, took the right 
 of the road, numbering about two hundred, and four or five 
 hundred of the 1st, 6th, 8th, and 20th dragoons occupied the leit, 
 while the general rode, first at the head of one division, then at 
 that of the other. 
 
 The decisive moment had arrived. The Colonel Bessiere, full 
 of the ardour which animated each of us, bade us advance in 
 language which was befitting the man who would lead troops to 
 glory. We spurred our jaded horses to their best pace;—the 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 83 
 
 desire to earn a name inflamed even the most indiffferent. Again 
 the trumpets sounded the charge : the earth shook under our 
 feet, and we fell upon the panting infantry. The Austrian 
 cavalry, deciding to save the infantry, moved up in close columns 
 with such rapidity that we were obliged to halt, changing 
 front to the left. Only thirty paces and a deep ditch divided us. 
 To leap the ditch, form line, sabre the enem}% and surround the 
 two first squadrons, was but the work of five minutes ; while, 
 stunned by the suddenness of the shock, they defended themselves 
 badly, and were cut to pieces. No quarter was asked or offered, 
 but men and horses fell around, thick as the leaves in autumn ; 
 while another column of dragoons, taking the remaining squadrons 
 in flank, dispersed them, after the most horrible carnage. They 
 were pursued to the ravine, where the few that survived were made 
 prisoners. 
 
 Reduced by the obstinacy of the battle to a very few effective 
 troops—the country difficult, and the night approaching—the 
 extreme fatigue of the horses, who had been all day without food 
 —a numerous body of cavalry, under the eyes of whom the action 
 had passed, and which might have been brought up against us—■ 
 all these things weighed with the prudent and brave Murat, and 
 prevented our following up, as the more ardent desired, the fruits 
 of this glorious victory. As the infantry came up they were 
 halted and formed; but had we persevered in the pursuit, and 
 received a check, they were too distant, as well as too fatigued, 
 to render us any support. The bugles therefore sounded the 
 recal, and the drums beat to quarters. But where were those 
 quarters to be found ? The two armies had been engaged for 
 sixteen hours, during which time few of the troops had been 
 unemployed, and none had time to receive those succours of which 
 exhausted nature stood so much in need : each man, therefore, 
 prepared to rest where he stood—the infantry lying down with 
 their knapsacks for pillows, their muskets placed between their 
 legs—the cavalry holding the reins of the horses in their hands, 
 wrapping themselves up in their cloaks ;—their common mother 
 earth their resting-place, the blue vault of heaven their canopy. 
 
 Austrians and Frenchmen had forgotten their feud and become 
 brothers, occupying the same sod ; they mutually helped each 
 other, while the darkness of the evening prevented our rendering 
 j assistance to all the unhappy wounded, a great number of whom 
 were left upon the field. 
 
 The clock of Marengo had sounded ten ere the First Consul 
 prepared to quit the field on which he had spent so many eventful 
 hours, and we returned slowly towards San Juliano. Many of 
 our men, harrassed by fatigue, fell asleep on the backs of their 
 horses, each instant disturbed either by the miserable cries of some 
 unhappy wretch who was carried by on a rude litter, hastily 
 constructed, oftentimes with the muskets of the infantry ; or by 
 those partially disabled, who, abandoned to their fate and scattered 
 
84 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 about the fields implored our assistance in harrowing tones, which 
 went to the heart of many a gallant fellow, filling with melancholy 
 those humane and feeling bosoms which are not unknown among 
 a brave soldiery, and redound so much to their honour. Here 
 and there horses tottering on three legs, recognised by their loud 
 neighings the approach of those of our troop, while each step we 
 took was obliged to be marked with caution, or turned aside to 
 prevent our adding to the miseries of the wounded. At every 
 pace the route was impeded by the dead or the dying, dismantled 
 guns, caissons, ammunition waggons, the horses of the cavalry, or 
 the equipages of the ambulances ; while more distant, several 
 houses in flames tottered to their foundations, destroying the 
 inhabitants, who, previously half dead from fear, had concealed 
 themselves in the cellars. The profound obscurity which sur¬ 
 rounded us rendered the prospect still more dreary, and the 
 prisoners not knowing where to go, wandered here and there in 
 the hope of making their escape. If they chanced to be met by 
 the troops, bending beneath the weight of their wounded comrades, 
 they were forced to return, and the unhappy burden was transferred 
 to their shoulders. 
 
 In time we arrived at the farm, now converted to the use of the 
 wounded, and each man crept in among the dead and the dying, 
 and disposed himself for the night as he best could, the crier 
 of anguish by which he was surrounded seldom prevailing over 
 the unconquerable desire for sleep. As for me, sick, hungry 
 fatigued, slightly wounded in the shoulder, and a prey to thirst, i 
 asked but for rest, even though that rest should be eternal. 
 
 Thus ended this memorable day—a day which had stamped 
 “ Marengo” on the laurels of every man who had the good fortune 
 to survive ; for there was not a corps, not even a soldier, who had 
 not earned a chaplet from the garland of fame; and surely never 
 was battle struggled for with more determination—never was 
 victory disputed with greater obstinacy. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 So 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 SAN JULIANO. 
 
 “ Le coq Frangais estle coq de la gloire; 
 
 Par les revers il n’est point abattu ; 
 
 II chante fort, s’il gagne la victoire ; 
 
 Encore plus fort quand il est bien battu ; 
 
 Le coq Franfais est le coq de la gloire.” 
 
 Favart. 
 
 I awoke on the morning of the 15th of June with all the gnawing 
 pangs of hunger which a thirty-six hours fast was likely to produce, 
 and oppressed with sadness I entered the court of the farm where 
 Napoleon had established his head-quarters, in the hope of finding 
 something to relieve my own wants as well as those of my horse, 
 who like myself had been forced to do without food. The most 
 horrible spectacle met my view, for more than three thousand 
 wounded Frenchmen and Austrians, heaped one upon another in 
 the court-yard—the barns, the cow-houses, and stables—nay even 
 in the granaries and cellars—were uttering the most frightful 
 cries, swearing even at the surgeons who were unable to dress all 
 their wounds at once. On all sides I heard the distressing cries 
 of many of my comrades and fellow-troopers, who demanded food 
 and drink, two articles of which I stood in so much need. All 
 that I could procure was some water, which I fetched in a canteen 
 that lay by, and forgetting my own wants and those of my steed, 
 I remained more than two hours, fetching water and assisting the 
 surgeons in the hospital, a duty imposed upon all who came in, 
 that were able to perform it. 
 
 I had witnessed wounds on the battle field, death in the breach, 
 but never had I contemplated the horrors of a military hospital 
 after a bloody combat. My heart sickened at the indifference with 
 which the surgeons seemed to perform their offices; a leg here, and 
 an arm there, cut off and thrown carelessly by, as if it had never 
 formed a part of that living being whom the Creator made in his 
 own image. And yet these men had hearts—hearts to feel for the 
 sufferings they endeavoured to alleviate, and pursued their irksome 
 tasks all day and all night, denying to themselves that rest of which 
 all stood so much in need, taking no note of time or the scarcity 
 of provisions, of which all around complained, but labouring on 
 in their vocation with an attention seemingly engrossed by their 
 duties. Do not tell me that surgeons are callous to the feelings 
 or sufferings of humanity ; the head that can devote its best 
 energies—the heart that supports men through difficulties and 
 even dangers, for the ambulance on the battle field, is not always 
 respected by the fire of the enemy—the courage that can sustain 
 
 i 
 
86 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 men through affairs like these are things of no light stamp, and 
 ought to command as much respect and admiration as the most 
 determined bravery in the charge. With sleeves tucked up to 
 their elbows, hands reeking with blood drawn from the hapless 
 patients whose mangled limbs they had just removed, the surgeons 
 pursued their way without let or hindrance, nor was I sorry when 
 a summons removed me from the hospital. 
 
 On all sides the prisoners kept coming in, and these augmented 
 the number of the famishing; and the day appeared to us of an 
 insupportable length, when an event occurred which gave birth 
 to all kinds of conjectures, and added not a little to our inquietude. 
 
 A flag of truce was announced from the Austrian camp, and a 
 French aid-de-camp immediately started for Alessandria. No ont 
 was aware of his demands, and each man formed his own opinions. 
 Thither also, at noon. General Berthier departed. All the world 
 seemed at fault, none daring to hope that which on the morrow 
 we found had been obtained. 
 
 On the morrow morning we were informed that an armistice 
 had been concluded, which filled the French with joy, while the 
 Austrian army, trembling with rage, defiled, on that and the 
 following day, on the field of battle, which was still reeking witl 
 their blood and ours, and where the crowded carcases already begai 
 to fill the air with putrid exhalations. 
 
 At last the Commissariat succeeded in procuring provisions, anc 
 vehicles for the transport of such of the wounded as were able t< 
 be moved, and a separation took place between the victims o 
 that sanguinary day. We saw, without inquietude or jealousy, th 
 French and the Austrian side by side—those who two days pre 
 viously would have cut each others throats—we saw them even 
 receive from the same hands, under the same roof—nay, even in 
 the same chamber, the necessary succours, and the careful atten¬ 
 tion, of ready humanity. 
 
 There can be little question that on the 14th we had from 
 40,000 to 45,000 men upon the field, of whom 3,000 only were 
 cavalry, and from 25 to 30 pieces of cannon, and two companies 
 of flying artillery. According to the report of the Austrian 
 prisoners, their force numbered from 55,000 to 60,000 men, o! 
 whom 16,000 were cavalry. They had 48 pieces of cannon, 20C 
 caissons, with an immense quantity of munitions of war, of which 
 it is well known we were greatly deficient. 
 
 This victory, great as were its results, costs the Republic dear 
 for we lost some of its bravest defenders, and best Generals 
 Dessaix, and a brother of General Watrin were killed ; Generals 
 Chamberlac, Muller, Mainoni, Champeaux, and Rivaud were 
 wounded. 
 
 The loss of the Consular Guard was considerable, especially ir 
 the infantry. Of five hundred men which they took into the field 
 two hundred and fifty-eight were killed or wounded. The cavalrj 
 of the guard lost about a tenth. The flying artillery was almos 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 8? 
 
 totally disabled, all the horses being killed, and the guns dis¬ 
 mounted ; by good luck, however, they had only one man killed, 
 though several were severely wounded. When we consider the 
 results, however, we must not estimate it as too dear, for in all 
 probability we saved the south of France from invasion, and the 
 horrors of a war at home. An armistice was concluded, which 
 was the forerunner of a desirable and glorious'peace, and this was 
 sufficient to calm our regrets. 
 
 And yet these regrets were poignant, when we thought of one, 
 who had been the friend—the model of every man who had served 
 under him. I shall not readily forget the impression made upon 
 me, when the morning after the battle, on going to head quarters, 
 
 I beheld the carriage which contained the remains of General 
 Dessaix, wrapped in a flag, and covered by his cloak. Fie had 
 passed the First Consul, dressed all in blue, without lace or 
 embroidery, no plume in his hat, and wearing common riding boots ; 
 in fact, nothing but the extreme simplicity and plainness of his dress 
 distinguishing him from the common herd ; but there was that in 
 I Ms countenance at the moment, which denoted that this simple 
 [ exterior bore no comparison to the mind within, that encouraged 
 the troops to place reliance on him by whom they vrere enchanted 
 ! to be commanded. His own horse had suffered so much from 
 fatigue, that he had borrowed one from the chef de brigade, 
 i Bessiere, on which he met his death wound ; and though but a 
 few moments elapsed after the departure of Lebrun and myself, 
 before Savary, his aid-de-camp, came up, the body had been stripped 
 and thrown among a heap of dead. I had seen him but an hour 
 before he fell, commanding the incomparable 19th light demi 
 !; brigade, making the most difficult movements under a devastating 
 fire, and in situations the most critical, and now my eyes rested 
 upon his bloody and inanimate corpse. 
 
 Peace to his manes ! I had known something of him in Egypt, 
 where his simplicity of dress and address, with his indomitable 
 courage and coolness in the field, had fixed the attention of the 
 whole army, and not a man that had served under him but now 
 felt that he had lost a brother and a friend ; while the clemency 
 that had always accompanied his conquests, especially after the 
 departure of Napoleon from the soil of the Pyramids, and the 
 , punctuality he manifested in all his engagements, had induced the 
 Egyptians to confer upon him the ennobling title of the Just 
 Sultan. 
 
 The treatment of the prisoners by the priests was wretched, 
 | denoting a baseness and cruelty of which the ministers of any 
 religion ought to have been ashamed. At the commencment of 
 the action some hundreds of French fell into the hands of the 
 | Austrians, by whom they were conveyed to Alessandria. Their 
 entry was announced by the ringing of bells, cries of victory, and 
 rejoicings. Had they stopped here no harm had been done, 
 because they were no doubt at liberty to prefer the Austrians to 
 
 i 2 
 
.88 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 the French ; hut when they proceeded to strike these unhappy 
 creatures, who had been deprived of their weapons, and even to 
 threaten them with daggers, human nature revolts at the idea that 
 educated, civilised persons—men imbued with religion, should 
 have been carried to such excesses, and revolts still more at the 
 recollection that, in a few hours, these very men loaded with 
 caresses those whom they had thus insulted. 
 
 Of all the plunderers I have fallen in with, commend me to the 
 Austrian camp followers for rapidity of execution, for surely nothing 
 could be so hateful as the avidity with which they stripped the 
 prisoners. Not one of our men was able to preserve his knapsack, 
 cravat, cap, or shoes ; even their ear-rings were in some instances 
 torn from their ears, without their giving them time to take them 
 out. Many of the men were cut down three or four hours after 
 they had surrendered as prisoners of war. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 TURIN. 
 
 In health the pleasures we would fain pursue, 
 
 Attend our call wherever we may roam ; 
 
 But when disease comes on, how chang’d the view, 
 
 We sigh for all the comforts of a home. 
 
 A non. 
 
 When studying the history of the past, in those imperishable 
 records which have been handed down to us, how often do we 
 stumble on the melancholy truth that the lessons of experience 
 appear to have been of no more service to nations during their 
 political existence, than they are to individuals in the short career 
 of life. On all animals endowed with intelligence, an all-wise 
 Creator seems to have impressed a sort of mechanical instinct, 
 which induces them to study self-preservation. This, the first law 
 of nature, leads them to avoid that by which they may be injured; 
 to fly from danger, or to brave it, according to the consciousness 
 of their strength ; but it is necessary that danger should be 
 present. Foresight would seem a quality almost divine—an effort 
 of the most perfect reason, more rarely to be met with than genius 
 —for man is naturally presumptuous, inconstant, and wavering, 
 and that in an order of things which is immutable. Man often 
 takes everything to himself, and appears determined not to trace 
 first causes to their constant effects. A creature himself, he would 
 be a creator, and establish new principles, and ever in the advance 
 
89 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 of the old world physically—by the laws of which he is' hampered 
 and restrained, he endeavours to make a moral world always new 
 like himself—a world of which he can modify the rules according 
 to his feelings and his passions. Such is human nature ; and 
 why should governments instituted by men be exempt from their 
 faults ? 
 
 The policy of the court of Vienna may be cited as a proof of 
 these remarks. Untaught by the events of the first Italian 
 campaign, when Napoleon beat in detail all their greatest generals 
 in an incredibly short space of time, they left no more to the 
 discretion of their commanders than the passing events of the 
 hour rendered absolutely necessary. Had a vigorous resistance 
 been made to our descent from the Alps, without resources, and 
 overcome with the fatigues of a passage unparalleled in the history 
 of the world, we should have fallen an easy prey, and the victory 
 of Marengo would never have been inscribed on our banners. 
 Had Melas concentrated his forces on the Po after the capitulation 
 of Genoa, the star of Napoleon would h^ve set to rise no more. 
 Even in the battle he is accused of having committed a great fault, 
 for when he found such a determined resistance in the centre, he 
 ; thought that by extending his wings, he should cut us off entirely. 
 In carrying this movement into effect he hoped to deceive us, 
 while, in fact, the deception was on his side, for the extraordinary 
 man by whom he was opposed, missed nothing, nothing escaped 
 1 him, and, although in the centre of a devastating fire, he seized 
 I the occasion of victory, and gave on all sides those orders, which 
 Uhe bravery of his troops enabled them to execute. 
 
 The name of Napoleon seems, indeed, one to which any other 
 cannot with justice be compared, his who was styled in derision 
 the Bankrupt Brewer of Huntingdon, appears at a distance far 
 ; remote, and yet is the only one that ought to be classed with it. 
 It was, perhaps, the ready decision of Kellerman, aided by the 
 intrepidity of Dessaix, which led to the result; still there can be no 
 doubt that the trammels which his government had thrown around 
 Melas, were the main cause of his losing the campaign. All things 
 combined to favour the First Consul, who truly seemed a being of 
 another world, determined to achieve one for himself; for he 
 who was indebted for everything to himself—who subjugated so 
 many states—obtained absolute power over a great and enlightened 
 people—scattered crowns among his family—made and un-made 
 kings—who lived to be almost the oldest sovereign in Europe— 
 and who was, without dispute, the most distinguished man of 
 his age'—certainly was endowed with no ordinary faculties— 
 possessed a mind of no ordinary calibre—and seems like one of 
 those bright, but evanescent meteors, which dazzle the sight for 
 i short period, and vanish at once from’the horizon. 
 
 On the 17th of June the exchange of prisoners took place, and 
 he First Consul started for Milan, escorted by the Chasseurs of 
 he Guard. The news of our defeat, which had reached this city, 
 
 i 3 
 
90 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIEF. OF 
 
 had struck terror and dismay to the hearts of the friends of liberty ; 
 but the contradiction and narration of the great event which had 
 taken place, and especially the presence of Buonaparte, changed 
 their depression to a state of enthusiasm. A National Guard and 
 Provisional Government were organised. The Consul, General 
 Berthier, and the whole of the staff, together with an immense 
 concourse of people, attended at the Cathedral, where a Te Deum 
 was cliaunted in thanks for our triumphs. 
 
 As yet the citadel had not surrendered, but by the terms of 
 the truce the officers of that garrison had permission to walk 
 about the city till 10 o’clock p.m. There were two battalions of 
 French emigrants in the service of the Emperor, the one under 
 the command of the Prince de Rohan, the other that of the 
 Chevalier Bussy; and these lost no opportunity of seeing the 
 First Consul, many of them cheering him as he passed. It was 
 said that, some hours before the gates were closed, the Austrian 
 commandant, Nicolet, had held a consultation with the Prince de 
 Rohan, advising him to retire with his corps on Mantua, and 
 magnifying the dangers to which he would be exposed by falling 
 into the hands of the French ; to which he replied, that, assured of 
 the faith of Napoleon and his army, he should not quit the city, 
 but trust to fortune, which in this instance did not deceive him. 
 
 On the 20th the citadel surrendered, the garrison marching out 
 with the honours of war to the number of 4,000, of whom at least 
 one half deserted on the spot. A battalion of my countrymen 
 passed first, with arms and baggage, and colours flying; and these 
 were followed by the legions of Bussy and Rohan, most of whose 
 men passed over to our ranks, leaving their officers behind. 
 
 I was an eye-witness to a singular rencontre between M. Nicolet, 
 the Commandant, and General Zach, whom we had taken prisoner 
 at Marengo. The former, on coming out of the citadel the first 
 time after its investment, proceeded to call on the First Consul, 
 but in utter ignorance of the events which had occurred, was only 
 aware of the order which confined him to the place of his command. 
 You may judge, then, of his surprise, when he beheld the General. 
 “ Eh ! by what hazard, my dear General, do I find you here ?” 
 Zach, surrounded by many curious listeners, replied in German, 
 and I saw at each break in his reply that the Commandant could 
 hardly believe the evidence of his senses. 
 
 I was credibly informed that in eight days fifteen thousand men, 
 chiefly French, taken in Scherer’s retreat, deserted from the Aus¬ 
 trians ; in the hospital were a like number of sick and wounded ; 
 the number of killed was certainly as great, while that of the 
 prisoners reached twenty thousand. Since our descent of the St. 
 Bernard, the total loss of the enemy in the course of this short 
 but rapid campaign, could not be less than 65,000 men, a loss 
 which, however enormous and incredible it may appear, is neverthe¬ 
 less correct. 
 
 In the few fleeting days that had elapsed since we quitted Milan, 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 91 
 
 until our return, how great had been the change in the affairs of 
 Italy. Our second occupation of the city was marked by more 
 decided tokens of approbation than the first; and wherever the 
 First Consul showed himself, he was received with acclamation. 
 The favourite child of victory, Massena, whom he had not seen 
 since his return from Egypt, joined him here. His defence of 
 Genoa had raised him in the estimation of all the generals, and 
 he was appointed to succeed Napoleon in command of the army. 
 
 In the meanwhile preparations for the departure [of our com¬ 
 mander went on, and I had made up my mind to accompany him 
 to Paris, when I was attacked by a low fever, the effects of the 
 incessant exertions to which I had been recently subject. For 
 some days I was delirious, and my life was despaired of, the danger 
 being augmented by the wound I had received at Marengo, which 
 at the time appeared so slight as not to merit attention, but 
 which had now put on an unhealthy appearance, and aggravated 
 my pain. 
 
 In a few days a good constitution carried me through, and I 
 was pronounced out of danger ; at the same time I was advised to 
 quit the army, at least for some months, and at the earliest possible 
 period seek to re-establish my health by inhaling the invigorating 
 breezes of my native land. “ Poor Jean,” said Barbanegre to my 
 doctor, “ you do but send him home to die.” “ I much fear it,” 
 was the brief reply, which sunk deep into my heart. 
 
 At length, when fit to travel, I set forth, loaded with presents 
 from my brother officers, and quitted Milan (no longer endeared 
 to me by the presence of the Marchese) with a heavy heart, and 
 having already disposed of such of my effects as were troublesome 
 to move about, I took the road to Novara. 
 
 Oh ! who can describe that absolute sickness of heart which 
 comes across the wretch enfeebled by disease, who possesses no 
 hope for the future, as he looks forth upon a world in which he 
 has no tie. How changed was the face of the country since, with 
 knapsack on my back, I tramped along this road a fugitive from 
 justice ; and yet it was scarce more changed than the truant boy 
 from him who, though young in years, had already become a veteran 
 by service. 
 
 Sad and melancholy thoughts, aggravated by my complaint and 
 the anguish of my wound, came over me, and all the garrulousness 
 of my Savoyard servant, who was overjoyed at the prospect of his 
 return home, could not raise a smile upon my face. Poor Domenico 
 flattered himself he was going back to be a comfort to two aged 
 parents and a happy bride, while I was returning to a home which 
 my conduct had rendered desolate ; to find a void b) the maternal 
 hearth my imprudence had caused ; to friends who, perhaps, had 
 become estranged ; to kindred who had no desire to see my face 
 again. There was no comparison in our situations, health and 
 wealth apart, and I was almost angry that he continued chaunting 
 the songs of his country, although lie never failed in those little 
 
92 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 attentions which prove so grateful to the invalid ; but as we 
 approached Novara a better frame of mind stole over me, and 
 the syren Hope began to show her face again. 
 
 How I pitied the poor peasantry the destruction of their homes; 
 the devastation of their corn-fields and vineyards. Truly the 
 march of an invading army is one of the greatest curses Providence 
 can inflict on a country. And here, where every yard of ground 
 almost had been contested, the misery was appalling. 
 
 Slow marches brought me, at last, to Turin, from which I had 
 been absent nearly five years, four of which had been passed in the 
 busy turmoil of a camp. I had seen as much service as often 
 falls to the lot of those who have grown grey in their harness, and 
 when I entered the city, I went straight to the residence of my late 
 mother, not an inmate of which recognised me until I made 
 myself known. I was well received by my brother, who was two 
 years my junior, and by a sister, who could hardly believe the 
 pallid and broken-down soldier, the gay youth she had parted with. 
 
 I had no reason to be dissatified at their want of kindness or 
 of care in the management of my property in my absence, to which 
 every attention had been paid since the decease of my mother, and 
 so well had they husbanded my resources, that 1 found myself 
 master of a considerable sum. Luckily, my uncle did not intrude 
 himself upon me, and in a few days I once more felt the comforts 
 that cling around the magic circle at home. 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 LIEGE. 
 
 “ See’st thou yon gentle fair one, with the blush 
 Of beauty mantling full upon her cheek, 
 
 And mouth all gems, and eyes that seem to gush 
 With feeling and with love, and beaming speak 
 A language all unspeakable,—yet seek 
 To veil their fire6 within that silken shrine, 
 
 As though repentant of the wounds that reek. 
 
 While wanton ringlets o’er her bosom twine, 
 
 And round her graceful neck, like tendrils of the vine.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The effects of time and good nursing soon be came apparent, and 
 I slowly recovered my health, although the severity of the attack 
 might still be seen in the waste of flesh I had sustained, and in 
 the pallid and unearthly hue of my countenance ; nature had 
 experienced a shock and a severe one ; nevertheless, I had cheated 
 the doctor, and was yet spared, again to play a part on that ever- 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 93 
 
 shifting stage—the world ; again to become an actor on life’s 
 ever-varying scene. 
 
 Determined to make my period of leisure of service to my mind 
 as well as to my body, I had, during the latter portion of it, 
 occupied myself in study, and I remained some time in Turin, as 
 much for the purpose of perfecting my education, as to recover 
 thoroughly from hard usage and wounds. Nearly the last four 
 years of my life had been passed in the camp, and if my spirit 
 needed not repose, my body required rest, to repair the ravages 
 wounds and disease had made ; I therefore devoted myself to 
 study the theory of my profession, for though, during the time I 
 was not actively employed in the field, I had neglected no oppor¬ 
 tunity of improving myself, still it had occurred so seldom that 
 I had added little to the meagre stock of information with which I 
 had left school, save such as I had acquired in the practical duties 
 of the service ; and I had long since discovered that I had little 
 chance of promotion unless my information kept in advance of my 
 fortunes. Now that I was at leisure, I set about in right earnest 
 to improve my advantages, and render myself master of such 
 things as were necessary to success in the line I had chalked out 
 for myself; history, geography, languages, and drawing, were each 
 followed with an avidity quickened by the knowledge of how much 
 time I had lost; and though this course of study rendered my life 
 dull enough in all conscience, I did not seek to make it more 
 amusing. 
 
 Even the most irksome task must be some time finished if we 
 persevere, as the most wearisome day will come to an end, and as 
 I avoided all kinds of society and amusement with the tenacity of 
 a hermit, my progress was rapid as my attention was close. 
 
 It was well that I made such good use of my time, for scarcely 
 had the hue of health revisited my cheek, and returning stoutness 
 established the soundness of my cure, than I was appointed to a 
 lieutenancy in a regiment of hussars, then forming by General 
 Serres, to whom the organisation of the Piedmontese troops had 
 been entrusted, and under whom I had for a short time served ; 
 and between the duties of my appointment, and the course of 
 study in which I still persevered, the months flew rapidly by, until 
 being declared fit. for service, we w’ere ordered to Bologna, to join 
 the army under General Bruno, who had just made the passage of 
 the Mincio. I was sorry that I was too late to share in that 
 brilliant affair, as I should have reaped fresh laurels near the spot 
 where my military career commenced, and added to that fame 
 which former success had bestowed on me. 
 
 However, on marching into quarters at Bologna, we had no 
 reason to be displeased with our reception, the inhabitants received 
 us with open arms, and the National Guard with an enthusiasm I 
 have seldom seen exceeded. Balls, fetes, and spectacles, were got 
 up for our especial amusement, and we might have exclaimed with 
 the poet, “ How merrily we live that soldiers be.” 
 
94 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 With returning spring we re-entered Piedmont, when I quitted 
 the Hussars for a regiment which had formerly been Chasseurs, 
 and in May, 1802, we marched into France.' 
 
 I had now for some escaped the thraldom of the beau sexe, never 
 having recovered from the stunning effects produced by the abrupt 
 termination of my first attachment. The remernberance of the 
 Ballerina, like the undying worm, remained to harrow up my 
 existence, and making my heart a void; and so potent had been 
 the charm, that it had carried me unscathed through the fiery 
 ordeal of Italian eyes and Italian temptations, making me almost 
 a convert to the doctrine that man never loves but one, and loves 
 that one for ever. 
 
 It is true, that amid the eventful scenes through which the 
 restless activity of our leader or the unerring decrees of fate had 
 led me, I had never met with one whose charms had sufficed to 
 obliterate from my heart the impression it had received, or to heal 
 the wound which the duplicity of woman had inflicted ; nor had 
 time, that soother of all ills, and destroyer of all passions, exerted 
 his influence on me. I had not forgotten ; for though after years 
 and other scenes may, like the undisturbed moss on the tombstone, 
 fill up and conceal the inscription which is beneath, some strange 
 accident may remove the incrustation—some trifling circumstance 
 rudely tear away the veil, and expose in all its pristine nakedness 
 the bitter reality we would fain believe was eradicated and forgotten. 
 
 I had changed name, station, country, even language; and 
 taking new impressions from the scenes around me, endeavoured, 
 and with some success, to be more in keeping with the set with 
 whom my lot was cast, and by the time we arrived at Liege, to 
 which place we were ordered, I had got rid of much of the gravity 
 of my countrymen, and acquired some of the vivacity of my com¬ 
 panions in arms. And they were in truth a merry crew, in whose 
 society some of the happiest hours of my life were spent—hours 
 long since passed away, but never to be forgotten. 
 
 Well do I remember our arrival at Liege, and good cause have 
 I for doing so, for here, nothwithstanding all my assurances to the 
 contrary, my heart was again attacked by the boy-god ; in spite of 
 all resistance I was again to become his victim. 
 
 The evening after our entry into the town I strolled down to the 
 public promenade, where, strutting in all the glory and grandeur 
 of a gay cavalry officer, I thought myself the most captivating 
 of men ; and, forgetting that although I had seen more service 
 than had fallen to the lot of many of my seniors I was yet but a 
 boy in years, I fancied that veteran was stamped upon my face, 
 which certainly of itself was not calculated to scare away the 
 fair sex. 
 
 Like the young Cantab of whom I have read, who fancied that 
 all the people he met in London were aware of the honours he 
 had obtained at college, I thought Mantua, Egypt, Marengo, were 
 to be seen in my countenance, and that every one recognised in 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 the dashing soldier before them a survivor of the forlorn hope at 
 Mantua. 
 
 It was evening, ancfthe last bright beams of the declining sun, 
 as he lingered yet in the heavens as if unwilling to part even for a 
 night from the beautiful land he was quitting, cast an air of warmth 
 and loveliness around that well accorded with the scene before me. 
 Far away were the fruitful fields of Flanders, thickly studded with 
 the cottages of the peasantry every here and there congregated 
 into villages, and at greater intervals into cities and towns. 
 Groups of well-dressed and beautiful women occupied the public 
 path, some reposing on chairs reading the last new novel, while 
 others were chatting socially together—here a knot of lovely girls, 
 arrived at that delightful age when girlhood has hardly merged into 
 womanhood, though it has already lost the trace of childhood, 
 skipping gracefully about, or thrown together in groups, and con¬ 
 versing with all the gaiety and vivacity of la belle France—there a 
 gay and moustached dragoon whispering soft nothings into the 
 willing ears of some city damsel, or a simpering ensign, with his 
 maiden sword still hanging upon his thigh, receiving lessons and 
 advice from a grey-headed veteran of a hundred fights. Farther 
 on a young and lovely mother might be seen watching her earliest 
 pledge of love, essaying his premier pas, and nearer two staid and 
 sober citizens of Liege, each armed with the Moniteur or the 
 Gazette, fighting over again the battles there described, or arguing 
 over the effects which this or that measure were likely to 
 produce. 
 
 The after-dinner life of the French, and in this the Liegeois, 
 though not strictly French, resembled them, especially during the 
 summer months, and the exhilirating if cooler periods of autumn 
 and spring, has so much of an out-door character, that I can only 
 compare it to those delightful social re-unions I hear the English 
 talk so much of under the name of pic-nic. Yet while it partakes 
 of all the mirth and hilarity of those occasions, it has none of 
 that chilling restraint too often witnessed—a restraint which the 
 unfrequency of the occurrence tends rather to maintain. Here all 
 classes meet upon an equal footing, each following its own impulse, 
 and preserving that distinctive trait noticed in their in-door society, 
 the line of demarcation being strictly intact—neither interferes 
 with its neighbour, though to the unpractised eye of a stranger it 
 would seem as if all classes were blended together in one har¬ 
 monious whole. 
 
 And here upon the public promenade of a provincial city was I 
 doomed again to surrender that heart which had been so severely 
 scathed as scarcely to have recovered, though years of unrestrained 
 intercourse with the most beautiful and fascinating of the sex 
 had exerted their influence upon it ; thus was the impression 
 rather glazed over than obliterated, and as there is no period so 
 dangerous to the sick man as when he is just attaining con¬ 
 valescence, so I suppose was my heart the more readily susceptible. 
 
96 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 My time was come, and I was again doomed to bear the fetters of 
 the sex, whose blandishments I had so long^lefied. 
 
 I had taken two or three turns through the promenade, and was 
 standing against a tree, contemplating the scene before me, and 
 feeling the influence of the hour stealing over me, I fell into a fit 
 of musing. What thought I must be his feelings who could behold 
 a scene like this—so rife with beauties, and his heart be yet a heart 
 of ice, unyielding, hard, and selfish ! Could not the hour, the 
 scene, attract him from himself, and leave some portion of its 
 loveliness impressed upon his memory in characters slight but 
 unextinguishable ? Such were my thoughts, when my vision 
 became obstructed, and there stood before me, in form as palpable 
 as beauty could fashion her, the angel of my future destiny. 
 
 In truth, she was beautiful ! Nor can I now remember what it 
 was that first so pointedly attracted my attention, but I was again 
 enchained, whether by the influence of the face, the figure, or the 
 moment, or that of the three combined, Heaven only knows. 
 Sufficient that from that hour I became her slave. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 LIEGE. 
 
 “IJer’s was that nameless loveliness which sinks 
 On the beholder’s heart ; and if he seeks, 
 
 Whilst his full glance her blaze of beauty drinks, 
 
 To know where lurks the charm that thus bespeaks 
 His passionate admiration ; if in cheeks 
 Of rose—or ruby lips—or violet eyes— 
 
 It is vain ! — Not in separate streaks 
 
 Of that rich bow of gathered beauty lies 
 
 The spell of power, but in its full united dyes.” 
 
 A. A. Watts. 
 
 “ Gazzola, my man,” said a brother officer, the companion of 
 my walk, “ what ails you ? Here, have I been talking to you for 
 the last five minutes without your deigning to vouchsafe a reply, 
 your eyes as firmly rivetted on that fair face, as those of a devout 
 Catholic on the image from which he expects a miracle. Rouse 
 thee, man, and if thy reflections be not of a nature too tender to 
 be communicated to a rough captain of Hussars, at least condescend 
 to bestow on me thy lucubrations, for of all dull occupations com¬ 
 mend me to that of an unwilling listener or of a companion to a 
 gay fellow just tumbled into love. Hast thou, the invulnerable, 
 been wounded by Cupid’s shaft, or has the impediment which 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 97 
 
 seems to interrupt thy motions, been communicated to thy tongue, 
 and rendered thee speechless ? 
 
 Did the galled jade wince ? Undoubtedly ; for the “ rough 
 captain” had unwittingly struck the the right chord, and its 
 vibrations were felt through my whole frame. I gazed till she 
 vanished from my sight, and then taking the arm of my companion, 
 we slowly returned to our barracks, where I shut myself up in my 
 room, determined to concoct some scheme which might lead to the 
 discovery of who she was, and gain an introduction to her. 
 
 Calm reflection seamed rather to rivet my bonds than free me 
 from them, while her voice, soft and musical as falling waters, still 
 seemed to strike upon my ear, mingled with the happy ringing 
 laugh of childhood and the more sober prattlings of advanced age. 
 
 In truth she was beautiful, rather above the middle height, with 
 a figure that might have served as a model for a sculptor desirous 
 of rivalling the Medicean Venus ; eyes bright as the starry firma¬ 
 ment, soft, liquid, and blue as the vault of heaven; hair that 
 ' would have put to shame the plumage of the raven ; feet (unlike 
 those of the majority of her country-women) small and well-formed, 
 and covered with a chaussure that might have made a Parisian belle 
 die with envy: and to this charmer, my heart, long without a 
 I tenant, bowed down in utter helplessness, establishing her its sole 
 empress, and discarding at the same moment, and for ever, all 
 traces of its former enthralment. 
 
 The stoic philosopher may laugh at my enthusiasm, the sceptic 
 may smile at my credulity, the man of the world turn away with 
 contempt at my folly—a too willing victim to the treacheries of the 
 !sex—how could it be otherwise ? Yet when the earliest bursts of 
 passion die away, and the heart turns in despair from the false one 
 by whom it has been betrayed, its sympathies are awakened 
 unnaturally, and it clings with more than its wonted tenacity to 
 -the first kindred mind it falls in with. 
 
 How the wished-for introduction to her, of whose name even I 
 Iwas ignorant, was to be obtained, was a problem I set myself to 
 jsolve, yet did I not despair, for to the lover all things seem probable. 
 
 I had declined an invitation to accompany the officers of the 
 garrison to a ball, which was to be given by the municipal autho¬ 
 rities, at the Hotel de Ville, in honour of our arrival. The 
 recollection of the one I had attended at Milan was still impressed 
 upon my heart; and I asked myself, “ What gratification can you, 
 i stranger, find in an amusement calculated to awaken any thing 
 )ut pleasurable reflections ? But now the case was altered, for I 
 loped, among the fair votaries of Terpsichore, to find my charmer 
 >f the promenade. The influence of the boy-god prevailed, and, 
 ■evoking my decision, I dressed myself with the greatest care, and 
 Allowed our major into the caleche which conveyed us to the ball- 
 oom. 
 
 She was already there—“ Yes, most adorable Caroline, in that 
 rowded scene I first made your acquaintance, there my heart 
 
 Iv 
 
98 
 
 SCENES IN THE LITE OF 
 
 drew in long draughts of love, there those hands, which the bonds 
 of the church afterwards united together, first met.” 
 
 From a garrulous citizen, whose acquaintance I made, I learnt 
 that she was the only child of a rich burgomaster, who dying 
 while she was yet an inlant, left her to the guardianship of a 
 mother, more attached to her for the wealthy portion she was 
 destined to inherit, over which, till she came of age, the mother 
 exercised unrestrained controul, than for the beauties of her person 
 or the spotless loveliness of her mind. 
 
 I had little difficulty in getting introduced to her, and, before the 
 end of the first waltz, had made up my mind that the fault should 
 not be my own, if I did not inspire her with a like passion to that 
 which raged in my bosom. Again and again I sought her hand; 
 again we joined the mazy throng, roaming, between the dances, 
 from the hall to the refreshment room. 
 
 Of all opportunities for a woman to rivet her chains, commend 
 me to the waltz, in which my charmer excelled; and when the 
 hour for separation arrived, I obtained her permission to enquire 
 after her health on the morrow. 
 
 The morrow came, and came, and swiftly flew, finding me ever 
 by her side; and the few days intercourse which served to bind 
 me to her for ever, also informed me, that in her mother I should 
 meet a most determined opponent to my suit, and when, after three 
 months of daily intimacy, I received an order to proceed to 
 Maestricht, I hastened to her home, and asked her to be mine, she 
 with much hesitation declared to me, that without the consent of 
 her mother she could not marry for a year, and that consent she 
 had little chance of obtaining, as it would deprive her of more 
 than half her income, an income which even now was inadequate 
 to her extravagancies. An appeal to her mother she would not 
 hear of, as it would in all probability lead to my dismissal at once ; 
 and so, with protestations of fidelity and devotion we separated, 
 having first arranged a plan of correspondence. 
 
 With a heavy heart I departed, and not all the roasting of the 
 mess-room, or my companions on duty could win me from my 
 thoughts. Three dreary months were passed at Maestricht, 
 enlivened only by the letters of my adored, and when at last the 
 route came, and my regiment was ordered to return to Liege, I 
 was more like a culprit for whom a reprieve has been just received, 
 than a man in the possession of his sober senses. 
 
 Again the enchanting intercourse was renewed ; again I pressed 
 her to be mine, and at length won her consent to make an appeal 
 to her mother. 
 
 I have faced death in the breach and on the battle-field, yet never 
 felt the fear that came over me as I entered the room where 
 Madame Fitz was sitting, to ask her permission to wed her 
 daughter. Why repeat the scene ? She called me an insolent 
 beggar, and bade me quit her presence, nor dare again intrude 
 myself in the house of one, who feared she had harboured a serpent 
 
A SOLDIER OP FORTUNE. 
 
 99 
 
 to rob her of her child. Tears, entreaties, threats, all were of no 
 avail; she was deaf to every appeal, and I left her like a maniac. 
 Love, however, laughs at locksmiths, and if our interviews were 
 less frequent, they were not the less enjoyed ; the end was that one 
 bright morning found us together in the church, and a few moments 
 sufficed to make her mine. 
 
 We were married, and never, while life exists, shall I forget 
 the thrill of exstatic delight which vibrated through my frame, as 
 twining my arm around the slender waist of what was now my 
 own, I imprinted upon her blushing lips the first marital kiss. 
 
 If ever man on earth enjoyed perfect happiness, I did during the 
 succeeding months, the garrison duty extending even longer than 
 was anticipated. What to me were the frowns of the mother, when 
 we met (as yet in ignorance of what had taken place), they were 
 amply repaid by the daughter’s smiles ? What to me the threatened 
 loss of fortune, unless she gave me up, in a few months all might 
 be acknowledged without fear ? We were intoxicated with hope 
 and joy, and I know not how long I might have gone on in the 
 same blissful delirium, if my wife’s interesting condition had not 
 awakened us, by warning us that our marriage must be published 
 to preserve her honour. 
 
 To me the discovery was the cause of unmixed pleasure, and on 
 the morning when we parted with a pledge to meet again ere night, 
 i when she was to communicate to me the result of her confession 
 to her mother, she was as cheerful as I ever beheld her, while I, 
 caring little for her fortune in comparison with herself, had desired 
 her to resign all, rather than forsake me, and bade her adieu with 
 ’ a heaviness of heart I could not shake off—true presage of the 
 | events that followed. Truly “ coming events cast their shadows 
 before”—for the gloom that overpowered my spirits was at last 
 ! communicated to her, and I left her in tears. It was our last 
 ' parting. We never met again ! What became of her I never could 
 i discover. 
 
 I left no stone unturned to discover her retreat, plied her mother 
 j with threats, tears, entreaties, menaces—all without avail. She 
 denied all knowledge of her condition—ridiculed my assertion that 
 i we were married—laughed at my tears—spurned my reproaches, and 
 slamming the door in my face, bade me quit her presence for ever. 
 
 Yes, soul-harrowing fiend, while she denied all participation in 
 the abduction she had planned, and paid for the stratagem by which 
 : she was entrapped, at her instrumentality she was removed to a 
 farm in the country, where she was kept close prisoner, and whence 
 she was removed to a convent in the neighbourhood of Rocourt. 
 
 Days and weeks elapsed ; still I continued the search, still were 
 my endeavours fruitless, till the Colonel, being annoyed at my 
 neglect of duty, warned me of the consequences. What were 
 the consequences to me ? I replied hastily, and was put under 
 arrest, and there my spirit chafed, until I wrote a most intemperate 
 letter, throwing up my commission. 
 
 K 2 
 
 
100 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 He had been my friend, and now came to me, reasoning with 
 me on the folly and madness of my conduct, and having talked 
 me into a better mood, released me on my promising to return to 
 my duty. 
 
 One morning on returning from parade, I was behind with the 
 rear-guard, when a boy approached, holding in his hand a basket 
 of fruit; I accepted the present, and emptying the basket, which 
 also contained a note, I returned it to the boy, having first deposited 
 therein a piece of three francs, and pursued my route. 
 
 But what was my surprise, when on opening the note, I perceived 
 the hand-writing of my wife ! In it I read all the despair of an 
 attached woman, who thought herself abandoned ; she detailed to 
 me her situation, and begged of me, if I had not forgotten her, to 
 hasten to the convent in which she was confined and release her. 
 
 To disguise myself according to her directions, mount a fresh 
 horse, and gallop off to the spot, was the work of a few hours ; but 
 instead of my Caroline I only saw the portress, who informed me 
 that Madame Fitz was then with her, and requested me to return 
 on the morrow, and this I faithfully promised, remounting my 
 horse, and returning to Liege just as the gates of thejown were 
 opened. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 MAYENCE. 
 
 “ My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, 
 
 And ray life perish e’en in conquering pain; 
 
 But there is that within me which shall tire 
 
 Torture and time, and breathe when I expire.” 
 
 Byron. 
 
 “The 23rd Chasseurs will leave Liege at six o’clock to morrow 
 morning. Captain Gazzola with his troop will precede the main 
 body of the regiment, by one hour’s march, so as to arrive at 
 Spa before noon.” 
 
 Such was the order of the day that met my view on dismounting 
 at my quarters, after my return from the fruitless expedition 
 to the Convent at Rocourt, my servant having in vain sought 
 me every where, and only one hour being left to make preparations 
 for my departure. I determined at once not to obey, and imme¬ 
 diately repaired to the house of the commandant, Le Vicomte 
 Digeon, requesting permission to delay iny journey for three days, . 
 promising at the end of that time to return to my duty. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 101 
 
 “ It cannot be, my dear Gazzola,” said the kind hearted man ; 
 “ your neglect of duty has already caused remark, and had you 
 not been so occupied with your own affairs, you would, ere this 
 have discovered what has been apparent sometime to the majority 
 of the garrison. The peace of Amiens is about to be broken, and 
 we have received orders to join the army of the Rhine, there 
 being every prospect of our being engaged against your old 
 enemies, the Austrians. I would willingly oblige you, but my 
 orders are imperative, directing me to recal every man to his 
 regiment, and to lose no time in getting to Mayence. Much as 
 I pity your situation (for I had entered into a full detail) I 
 cannot allow your absence ; but if you will march out of town 
 with your troop, you may leave them, if you will pledge me your 
 word of honour to join them again before they quit Malmedy. 
 If you fail, and are found in this neighbourhood twenty-four 
 hours after our departure, I cannot be answerable for the conse¬ 
 quences ; but to show you how deeply I feel for you, take two of 
 my horses, place them as relays on the road, and God speed you. 
 Remember, we must meet to-morrow.” 
 
 I had had a fair specimen of the results of resistance, and hard 
 as the terms were, was fain to accept them, determining about my 
 after-movements on a future occasion ; so thanking the colonel 
 for his kindness, but declining the loan of his horses, I bade 
 him good day, and joined the troop on parade. Having made the 
 necessary arrangements, I accompanied my men a few miles out of 
 town, and then, resigning the command to my lieutenant, I re¬ 
 traced my steps to a small cabaret situated about half a mile 
 from the gate. Here I waited for the appointed hour, previous 
 to which the head-quarters of the regiment marched by, few of 
 the officers thinking of the unhappy plight in which their comrade 
 was placed ; but as the day drew towards a close, my impatience 
 increased, and I found my way to the Convent, at least an hour 
 before the appointed time. 
 
 To my incoherent and almost unintelligible enquiries, the old 
 portress replied, that I was too late, for that Madame Fitz, having 
 been apprized of my visit yesterday, had caused her daughter to be 
 removed, but whither she was gone, or by whom accompanied, she 
 knew not. I believe she told the truth, for though I endeavoured 
 to bribe her with all the money I had in my purse, she persisted 
 in her story, and declined my offer. Here then was I again at 
 fault, and as I had no intelligence to gain here, I slowly retraced 
 my steps, and once more sought the habitation of the mother, 
 determined to carry her off by force, or die in the attempt. This 
 heroic resolution was, however, spared being put in practice, for 
 the porter, who was formerly in my pay, declared that Madame 
 had been absent some days, and was he believed gone to Spa, 
 though Louis, the coachman, had told him they were to go Namur. 
 
 As this was my destination, I put my willing steed on his 
 mettle, and rejoined my regiment at day-break, but no Madame 
 
102 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Fitz had arrived, and on presenting myself to the Colonel, he told 
 me that he had just received a letter from the old lady, stating 
 that having entrapped her daughter into a pretended marriage 
 for the sake of her fortune, she had determined to remove her out 
 of my grasp, for which purpose she had left home, taking care 
 to destroy all trace of her route. She announced her intention of 
 appealing to the Emperor, for to such rank had Napoleon now 
 attained, and concluded by declaring her determination to apply 
 to the ordinary tribunals of the country, to declare our marriage 
 invalid. 
 
 Under these circumstances further pursuit was useless, and 
 although unwilling to abandon it, I saw no good in its con¬ 
 tinuance for the present, especially as I had no means of contend¬ 
 ing against her wealth ; and it was well known that Napoleon, 
 since his assumption of the ermine, was desirous of securing the 
 good will of the citizens, I therefore determined to bide my time, 
 and as there was every prospect of the Emperor himself assuming 
 the command, to wait his appearance and appeal to him myself. 
 
 Heavy at heart, I returned to my duty, and at Manheitn was 
 joined by my brother, who, tired of a life of inactivity at home, 
 had followed my example, and presented himself as a volunteer. 
 He was admitted into my troop, and between the duties of my 
 appointment, and instructing him, I managed to pursue a sort of 
 mechanical existence, till one of Napoleon’s spirit-stirring procla¬ 
 mations roused me from my apathy, and with the rest of the 
 army I passed the Rhine. 
 
 On the 6th of October, 1805, we arrived at Donawerth, the 
 division of the army to which I was attached being under the 
 command of Marshal Soult; while the enemy, under General 
 Mach, had advanced to the borders of the Black Forest, where 
 they appeared to have taken their postiion. The bridge over the 
 Iller was fortified, while ramparts were being raised round Me- 
 mingen and Ulm. 
 
 Napoleon had now joined the army, and directed its move¬ 
 ments ; and so well had these been planned and executed, that we 
 had avoided the Austrians and the Black Forest altogether, 
 and, passing through the valley of the Danube, found ourselves 
 several days march in their rear. 
 
 I had generally the command of the advanced guard of my 
 regiment, and on the 8th we march on Augsburg, crossing the 
 Danube at Lustnau, while another division took the route to 
 Feldheim, and the left bank of the Lech, Murat, at the head of his 
 division of cavalry, advancing on Ulm. At Augsburg I purchased 
 a map of the country ; and trifling as this event may appear, it was 
 to me a matter of importance ; the information I was able to ob¬ 
 tain from it causing me to be employed in many services I should 
 not otherwise have fallen into. 
 
 From Augsburg we took the route to Lansberg, and one day I 
 was sent for by our Colonel, and informed that the command of 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 103 
 
 a reconnoitering party was to be intrusted to me, and after giving 
 me my instructions, he commenced enumerating the villages I 
 should pass through. I interrupted him, mentioning my pur¬ 
 chase, and was dismissed. 
 
 I set off, taking with me 30 men; and ordering my brother 
 and four men to form an advanced guard, I followed with the 
 main body. Arriving at a little village, I made several inquiries 
 of the inhabitants as to the position of the enemy, and while 
 refreshing my men and horses, I espied a fine young man, who 
 appeared to be skulking about desirous of avoiding attention. I 
 arrested him, and finding he was a deserter from the Austrian 
 army, I learnt that their advanced post was distant only two miles. 
 I took him with us, and continued our route towards Lansberg, a 
 little before arriving at which town I was aroused by the report 
 of a carbine fired by my brother, and immediately riding up, found 
 that he had killed the vidette and got possession of the post, 
 the guard, six in number, being taken by surprise, and made 
 prisoners before they had time to mount their horses. 
 
 Advancing cautiously to reconnoitre, I found the Austrian camp 
 totally evacuated; for the men, little dreaming of our proximity, 
 had gone 4o Lansberg to receive the distribution of forage, and a 
 few sentinels were all we discovered, these keeping so lax a look 
 out as not to have noticed the discharge of my brother’s carbine. 
 However, before we got near enough to be discovered, I could see 
 the men arrive by twos and threes at a time, and as my force was 
 too small to attempt anything myself, I sent back a sergeant to 
 inform my colonel, who I knew could not be far behind, and in 
 a short time followed him, and soon met the regiment. 
 
 Marshal Soult was not far in the rear, so having related what I 
 had seen to my colonel, I was despatched to our commander with 
 the information, and having given my opinion that the enemy 
 were profoundly ignorant of our proximity, and that the camp 
 certainly did not contain more than one regiment, I returned with 
 orders for the engagement. 
 
 I had the honour to lead the attack. The road from Augsburg 
 to Lansberg lies partly through a wood, on the outskirts of which 
 we had fallen in with the advanced post that we had surprised. 
 The rain and sleet now began to fall around us, added to which 
 the road was execrable, and bounded on either side by a deep 
 ditch filled with snow and mud. Having advanced a short 
 distance, I perceived, what had before escaped my observation, 
 that it was commanded by two pieces of cannon; but my brother 
 and some men filing off to the right and left, took the cannoniers in 
 the rear before they had time to put their matches to their guns, 
 else we should have fallen a sacrifice, for the road was narrow 
 and entirely commanded by them. 
 
 Hardly had we gained possession of this little battery, than 
 we were attacked by a party of Brankenstein’s dragoons. VJe 
 charged, and finding our swords made no impression upon them. 
 
104 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 suspected they had cuirasses under their cloaks, and counselled our 
 men to aim only at their throats. 
 
 This had the desired effect, and they turned, but being sup¬ 
 ported, again rallied. However, we also were supported in our 
 turn, and remained masters of the field, having succeeded in 
 taking many prisoners. 
 
 As this was the first engagement we had been in, we received 
 the approbation of Marshal Soult for our conduct; nor was it 
 without avail, for it cut off the communication between Prince 
 Ferdinand and a portion of his array, besides putting us in pos¬ 
 session of two guns and many of his men and horses. 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 THE EVE OE AUSTERLITZ. 
 
 “ He could not rest, he could not stay 
 Within his tent to wait for day, 
 
 But walk’d him forth along the sand, 
 
 Where thousand sleepers strew’d the strand. 
 What pillowed them ? and why should he 
 More wakeful than the humblest be, 
 
 Since more their peril, more their toil ? 
 
 And yet they, fearless, dream of spoil; 
 
 While he alone, when thousands pass’d 
 A night of sleep—perchance their last, 
 
 In sickly vigil wandered on, 
 
 And envied all he gazed upon.” 
 
 Siege of Corinth. 
 
 After the little affair described in the last chapter, we marched 
 on Memmingen, which we carried, taking nine battalions prisoners, 
 with several guns and magazines, and continued our way to 
 Biberach, with a view of cutting off the retreat of Prince Ferdinand. 
 
 On the 13th of October Napoleon arrived at the camp before 
 (Jim, and immediately made dispositions for the reduction of that 
 place. The attack commenced by our carrying the bridge of 
 Elebingen; and on the 14th, Ney, at the head of Loison’s division, 
 passed the bridge and attacked the advanced guard of the Aus¬ 
 trians, consisting of 16,000 men. They were beaten at all points, 
 leaving 3,000 upon the field or made prisoners, and retiring in 
 disorder within their intrencliments. In the meanwhile Lannes 
 took the heights which commanded^the village of Epfoel, his 
 tirailleurs carrying the head of the bridge of Ulrn, creating great 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 105 
 
 disorder and dismay in the town ; and Murat, at the head of his 
 cavalry, attacked and put to route that of the enemy. Several 
 divisions of infantry occupied the bridges of Unterkirch and Ober- 
 kirch, intercepting all the communications of the enemy upon 
 the Iller. 
 
 On the morning of the 15th, Napoleon, who since his arrival 
 had no idea of rest, in spite of the inclemency of the weather, 
 made dispositions for the attack. The corps of Lannes and Ney, 
 supported by that of Murat, were under arms, while the other 
 corps blockaded the town on the left bank of the Danube, encom¬ 
 passing it on every side, and cutting off all communication with 
 the surrounding districts. 
 
 Another proclamation roused us for the attack, which began 
 with all the fury of former times. The advanced posts of the 
 enemy were carried at the point of the bayonet, when Napoleon, 
 desirous of avoiding the effusion of blood which must necessarily 
 follow a general assault, addressed himself to Prince Lichtenstein, 
 whom he knew and esteemed—“ You see,” said he, “ your 
 position ; if you do not lay down your arms at once, I will carry 
 the town by storm, and shall be forced to do as I did at Jaffa, 
 where the garrison were put to the sword. However deplorable 
 the necessity, it is the fate of war. Spare me then. Prince, and 
 the brave Austrians, so fatal a resolve, since the town is not 
 tenable.” 
 
 This had the desired effect, and General Mach capitulated, 
 with 19 generals, 33,000 troops, 3,000 horses, 40 standards, 80 
 pieces of artillery and caissons and baggage in proportion; and 
 thus in fifteen days had Napoleon achieved these brilliant results 
 —results without a parallel in the history of nations. 
 
 The head-quarters of the army now moved to Elchingen, the 
 place from which the ill-fated Ney, “ the bravest of the brave,” 
 afterwards took his title, while Napoleon, though weighed down by 
 fatigue, having been exposed for the last eight days to the pelting 
 of the rain, needed repose. His staff implored him to yield to 
 the imperious dictates of nature, but he refused ; he had no idea 
 of rest, and continued night and day to reply to the officers who 
 flocked to head-quarters, and to give new orders. 
 
 As generous after victory, as terrible in the battle, he sent for 
 the Austrian officers who had surrendered at Ulm, and keeping 
 them near him while the army passed, he endeavoured, as much 
 as lay in his power, to diminish the sadness of their situation. 
 
 “ It is not in this army alone that my resources consist,” said 
 he, “ although it is true that we have obtained great successes. 
 Appeal to the report of those prisoners who have lately traversed 
 France, and you will learn the spirit that animates my people, 
 and with what anxiety they hasten to range themselves under my 
 banners. Behold the advantages of my country and position. 
 With a single word, 200,000 men would rally round me, and six 
 weeks would suffice to make them good soldiers, while your 
 
100 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 recruits march only by force, and require years to make them 
 effective troops. I have counselled your Emperor, who wages an 
 unjust war against me, to desist, but he hates peace; I want 
 nothing on the continent; ships, colonies, commerce, are what I 
 desire ; and these would advantage you as well as myself.” 
 
 But said the proclamation, “ we will not stop here ; the Russian 
 army, which the gold of England has transported from the 
 extremity of the universe, is before you, we will hasten to treat 
 them in the same way.” Onward was the cry; and although the 
 troops constantly marched through the mud, the rain descending 
 in torrents, nothing could daunt their enthusiasm. 
 
 Loud cries of “ Vive l’Empereur,” issued from the ranks as 
 they passed. “’Tis not with our bayonets, but our legs he makes 
 war,” said an old grey-headed grenadier, in the hearing of Napo¬ 
 leon. “True, my friend,” was the ready reply, “ but it is to save 
 the effusion of your blood that I make you endure such fatigue.” 
 
 On the 15th of November Murat and Lannes entered Vienna. 
 The capital of Vienna was in the hands of the Child of Fortune— 
 garrisoned by the conquering legions of France. They crossed 
 the Danube ; and then, for the first time, beheld another enemy, 
 in the advanced corps of the Russian army. On the 15th Napoleon 
 dictated his orders from the Palace of the last descendant of the 
 house of Flapsburg, and never did any member of that ancient 
 family receive more intense homage. Scarcely had he arrived 
 before the benefit of his appearance was recognised by all. All 
 eyes were fixed upon him—all hearts were turned towards him. 
 But with the same delicacy which he had shown at Munich, 
 when occupying the Palace of the Elector of Bavaria, he discoun¬ 
 tenanced the homage which was offered to him by the people—a 
 people who, in the present occupant of the palace of the Caesars, 
 beheld one who had risen from the army, to the giddy height of 
 an imperial throne. 
 
 We found in Vienna, through which we passed, observing the 
 most rigid discipline, more than 2,000 pieces of cannon, ] 00,000 
 stand of arms, munitions of war of every sort and kind, enough 
 to form the equipage of four armies ; and advancing into Moravia, 
 the advanced guard, under Marshal Davoust overcame everything 
 that opposed its progress between Brau and Wakesdorf, while 
 Marshal Lannes took Stokerau,—Bernadotte invested Krems,— 
 Mortier was at Weekesdorf, and another division marched on 
 Gratz. 
 
 On the morning of the 1st of December, Napoleon, with 
 inexpressible joy, perceived from the height on which he had 
 bivouacked, the approach of the Russian army. He had met the 
 Emperor Alexander, who with the view of gaining time had in¬ 
 veigled him into granting an interview ; but our leader was too 
 clear sighted to be deceived by the ill-concealed policy of the 
 Muscovite, and nothing now remained but an appeal to force. 
 Two discharges of cannon from their advanced posts, preceded 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 107 
 
 a movement which was intended to take us in flank, and 
 turn our right. In an instant the presumption and ignorance 
 of the art of war, which directed the Russian commander, became 
 evident to Buonaparte, who, rubbing his hands with glee, ex¬ 
 claimed, “ Before to-morrow night that army will be mine’’" 
 The opinion of the enemy must have been directly the opposite 
 of this, for they approached within pistol shot of our advanced 
 posts, and defiled by a march on our flank, along a line four 
 leagues in length, while our army appeared afraid to move from 
 its position. The Russians had but one fear—it was that we 
 might escape. 
 
 Every means were employed to confirm them in this imprudent 
 confidence. Murat, at the head of a few regiments of cavalry, 
 advanced into the plain, but suddenly appearing astonished at 
 the immense force before him, he withdrew in haste. This very 
 thing tended to make General Kutusow persist in the ill-calculated 
 operation he had commenced. 
 
 Strict orders were given, that as we were in sight of the enemy, 
 who was much superior to us in strength, every means should 
 be used to prevent his gaining a knowledge of our position, and 
 that no fires should be made. It was bitterly cold, and I had 
 made a fire under a bridge, where it was impossible for the 
 Russians to perceive it, and had enveloped myself in cloaks and 
 forage, when I was called by my brother to partake of a supper he 
 had procured. The prospect of a good meal thus suddenly 
 presented to one who but a few minutes before had resolved 
 to retire to a supperless couch with all the philosophy he could 
 muster, was any thing but uninviting, so I quickly set about 
 demolishing the good things provided, without making very strict 
 inquiries as to how or where they were procured. But hardly had 
 we concluded the meal, than General Margaron, who had the 
 command of the light cavalry of the division, an officer who had 
 always served with heavy troops, and mortally hated us Pied¬ 
 montese, appeared on the scene. While prowling about for 
 something to satisfy the gnawing pangs of hunger, my brother 
 and my cornet espied the General’s supper ready laid out on the 
 table, and finding no one near they determined on appropriating 
 it to themselves. To take the cloth by the corners, bundle up 
 the viands as they were, and decamp with them across their 
 shoulders was but the work of a few moments ; and hardly had 
 we devoured these unlooked for delicacies, and thrown the plate, 
 &c., in the brook, than the loss was discovered. Foaming with 
 rage, the General rode up to our Colonel’s quarters, and demanded 
 his supper. “ It was those rascals of the 26tli Chasseurs who 
 have robbed me,” said he. “ Well,” said Le Vicomte Digeon, 
 “ what would you have me do, the supper is eaten and half 
 digested ere this ? I cannot, my dear General, assist you.” “ But 
 surely you can find my plate,” said the General ; there were lots 
 of silver on the table.” Impossible. Neither supper nor plates 
 
108 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIl’E OF 
 
 were ever discovered ; the former found its way into the stomachs 
 of famishing soldiers; what became of the latter I never in¬ 
 quired, I guess, however, they were not left in the brook. 
 
 It was the eve of the anniversary of Napoleon’s coronation, and, 
 as if the pressure of the hour were too* great, at the close of day 
 he determined to visit on foot, and unknown, the different quarters, 
 and endeavour to discover what chances he had of success on 
 the morrow. He had not proceeded many paces before he was 
 recognised, and it is impossible to describe the rapturous enthu¬ 
 siasm of the troops at thus beholding the hero they revered. 
 Torches of straw were prepared on the instant, lighted and 
 elevated on thousands of poles, and the whole camp presented 
 themselves before their chief, some saluting him with acclamations 
 to give honour to the anniversary of his coronation; the others 
 exclaiming that on the morrow the army would present a bouquet 
 to their emperor. One of the oldest grenadiers approached him 
 and said, “ Sire, you will have no occasion to expose yourself, 
 as you have too often done, I promise you in the name of the 
 grenadiers of the army, that you need only fight with your eyes, 
 and that to-morrow we will bring you the standards and artillery 
 of the Russian army to celebrate the anniversary of your coro¬ 
 nation.” 
 
 Napoleon, quite overcome with emotion as he entered his 
 bivouac, which was a miserable mud hut, without a roof, ex¬ 
 claimed in answer to the remark of the grenadier: “ T have 
 witnessed the most pleasureable evening of my life, but I regret 
 to think that I must lose so many of these brave fellows. I feel 
 —unhappy does the feeling make me—that they are truly my 
 children, and in truth I sometimes reproach myself in conse¬ 
 quence, because I fear that it will render me unable to prosecute 
 the war as I should do.” The lights soon burned out, order was 
 restored in the camp, and we each retired to rest, to dream of 
 that victory which none doubted would crown our arms. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 109 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 THE SUN OF AUSTERLITZ. 
 
 “ The night is past, and shines the sun 
 As if that morn were a jocund one; 
 
 Lightly and brightly breaks away 
 The morning from her mantle of grey, 
 
 And the noon'will look on a sultry day. 
 
 Hark to the trump and the drum, 
 
 And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn, 
 
 And the flap of the banners, that flit as they’re borne, 
 
 And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude’s hum, 
 
 And the clash and the shout—“They come! they come!” 
 
 Byron . 
 
 I know not if Napoleon had conceived the plan of the campaign, 
 which should terminate in a great battle, as he did that of Italy, 
 which ended at Marengo; at all events, he had so well concealed 
 his plans from the Russians, that they were little aware of the 
 science which laid them, or that they were intended for the 
 purpose of drawing them upon the ground he had previously 
 marked out. 
 
 To render this glorious affair more easily understood, I must 
 describe the position of our army, which formed three grand 
 divisions, under the command of Lannes, Bernadotte, and Soult. 
 
 The left, under Marshal Lannes, was at Santon, a superb posi¬ 
 tion, which had been fortified on the previous day, and where 18 
 pieces of artillery had been placed. Suchet’s division joined the 
 left of Lannes ; that of Cafarelli his right, which was also supported 
 by the cavalry under Murat. In front of the latter were the Hussars 
 and Chasseurs, under Kellerman, with the divisions of Watrin and 
 Beaumont, having in reserve the Cuirassier divisions of Generals 
 Nansouty and d’Hautpoult with 24 pieces of artillery. 
 
 Bernadotte took the command of the centre, having on his 
 right Drouet’s division, and on his left that of Rivaud, the latter 
 extending to the right of Murat. 
 
 Soult, who commanded the right, had on his left Vandamme’s 
 division, that of St. Hilaire in the centre, with Legrand on his 
 right. 
 
 Marshal Davoust, was detached on the right of General Legrand, 
 to guard the villages of Sokolnitz and Celintz ; with him were 
 the divisions of Friant, and the dragoons of Bourcier’s division. 
 Gudin’s division was ordered to march early in the morning to 
 Nicolsbourg, to keep in check a corps of the enemy which might 
 annoy our right. 
 
 Napoleon, General Berthier, and his staff were in reserve with 
 the Guard and ten battalions of grenadiers. The reserve was 
 
 h 
 
110 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 ranged on two lines in column by battalions, at sufficient distance 
 to allow them room to deploy, having in the intervals 40 pieces 
 of cannon, served by the artillery of the Guard. It was with 
 these last troops that the Emperor determined to throw himself 
 on any spot where he found their presence most necessary. 
 
 As early as one in the morning he mounted his horse to visit 
 the posts, reconnoitre the fires and bivouacs of the enemy, and 
 to learn as far as possible from the videttes, of the movements of 
 the Russians. He discovered that they had passed the night 
 in debauchery, uttering the most tumultuous cries, and that a 
 corps of Russian infantry had presented itself at the village of 
 Sokolnitz, occupied by a regiment of Legrand’s division, to which 
 he despatched fresh troops. 
 
 The second of December the sun, or to use the expression of 
 Napoleon himself, “ the sun of Austerlitz” rose brilliantly, and 
 this day, the anniversary of the coronation of the Emperor of 
 the French, which was destined to bear witness to one of his most 
 brilliant and memorable engagements, was one of the most de¬ 
 lightful of the autumn. 
 
 Surrounded by his Marshals, Napoleon waited to give his final 
 orders until the horizon was well lighted up. As the first rays 
 of the sun beamed upon us they were communicated, and each 
 Marshal promptly rejoined his corps. 
 
 In passing along the lines Napoleon said, “ Soldiers, it is neces¬ 
 sary to finish this campaign by a thunder-clap which shall con¬ 
 found the pride of our enemiesbut scarcely had the words 
 passed his lips than caps and helmets were raised upon the points 
 of bayonets and sabres; loud cries of “ Vive l’Empereur” burst 
 from the soldiery, giving the signal for the commencement of 
 the fray. An instant after a cannonade was heard on the extreme 
 right, which the advanced guard of the enemy had already at¬ 
 tacked ; but being there met by Marshal Davoust, their impe¬ 
 tuosity was checked. 
 
 The soldier on the field of battle is merely a component part 
 of that great whole by which certain effects are to be produced, and 
 knows little of what is going forward save as far as his own 
 individual self or those more immediately surrounding him may 
 be concerned. A regiment is but a portion of the machine set in 
 motion by the will of the General who directs the various forces 
 under his command as the player does the pieces on the chess¬ 
 board. Marshal Soult had appointed me an extra officer of 
 ordonnance, thus giving me an opportunity of witnessing the 
 movements of the various divisions of the army, and seeing more 
 of the details of a general engagement than had hitherto fallen 
 to my lot. 
 
 The division of Soult went into action at the same time as 
 Davoust’s, Vandamme’s brigade with that of St. Hilaire attacking 
 the heights of Pratzen, and cutting off entirely the left of 
 the Russians, whose movements henceforth became uncertain. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Surprised by this manoeuvre, and finding themselves attacked where 
 they fancied they were acting on the offensive, they wavered, 
 and already considered themselves half beaten. 
 
 Murat, with his division of cavalry, advanced, while the left, 
 under Lannes, marched in echelon, like a regiment oti parade; a 
 thundering crash of artillery was heard along the whole line, 
 more than 300 pieces of cannon and 200,000 men made an awful 
 noise. Hardly had the fight lasted an hour than the whole left 
 of the enemy was broken ; his right was already at Austerlitz, 
 which was the head quarters of the Emperors of Russia and 
 Austria, who immediately moved up the Russian imperial guard 
 to re-establish the communication of the centre with the left. 
 Napoleon, perceiving this, despatched Marshal Bessieres with 
 assistance to our right, and, in a short time, the two imperial 
 guards found themselves opposed to each other. 
 
 From the heights of Austerlitz, the two emperors witnessed the 
 total defeat of the Russian guard. How I longed to be with 
 my old comrades, as I saw them prepare for their last charge ; down 
 they came powdering their enemies to the dust, riding down and 
 sabreing all who came in their way, and so engrossed was my 
 attention that I was near forgetting that my instructions were 
 to aid in the route, rather than sit calmly by as a spectator. 
 Bernadotte now moved up the centre, and received three charges 
 of cavalry—charges well made and nobly sustained—without 
 giving way; while the left, under Lannes, bravely maintained 
 their ground. All these movements seemed so well combined that 
 the victory, though not yet achieved, was no longer doubtful. 
 
 I had ridden up to Murat with an order from Soult to advance 
 the Light Dragoons, just before the last charge of the Imperial 
 Guard was made, and, as I have before said, was paying more 
 attention to them than my duty allowed, when a rough voice 
 exclaimed, “ What are you doing there ?—join your regiment.” A 
 loud burst from my old comrades welcomed the Emperor, and, 
 forgetful of all but the excitement of the moment, I rose in my 
 stirrups, and joining wildly in the cry, joined my former com¬ 
 panions, and assisted them to ride down their formidable opponents. 
 On we went, powdering on, upsetting or cutting down the formi¬ 
 dable body guard of the Russian Emperor; and it was not till 
 the bugle sounded “ halt, retire by squadrons on the right,” that I 
 recovered my senses, and galloped back again to my commander. 
 
 Success was no longer doubtful—the Russians were soon hors- 
 de-combat, the veterans of Napoleon’s guard totally routed their 
 opposers—colonels, officers, artillery—standards all shared the 
 same fate. The regiment of the Grand Duke Constantine was 
 cut in pieces, the prince liimself only owing his safety to the 
 speed of his charger. 
 
 The field was now won. The cannonade ceased except on the 
 right. The Russian corps under Buxhoewden, which had been 
 driven from the heights, found themselves in an awkward position, 
 
 L 2 
 
112 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 near one of the lakes or pools of water with which that part 
 of the battle-field was studded. There went Napoleon with a 
 strong battery, which, opening on these unfortunate troops, drove 
 them from position to position, until at last was witnessed one of 
 those appalling sights which seldom happen more than once in 
 a man’s lifetime, but so happening, can never be forgotten. 
 Twenty thousand men, and a park of artillery consisting of fifty 
 pieces of cannon, in order to escape the conquerors attempted 
 to pass over the frozen surface of the lake, which, unable to bear 
 this enormous weight, broke, consigning to the grave the whole 
 of this unfortunate corps. In this affair the Russians lost 45,000 
 men, 20 generals, many aides-de-camp of the Emperor Alexander, 
 besides a great number of officers of distinction, 550 pieces of 
 cannon, 45 standards, among which were those of the Imperial 
 Guard, many of their men laying down their arms after the last 
 charge. 
 
 When the firing ceased, the old grenadier who had addressed 
 the Emperor the night before, and who had escaped the dangers 
 of the battle-field, stepped forth from the ranks, and, pointing to 
 the plain before him, thus covered with the dead and the dying, 
 exclaimed, “ Behold the beautiful bouquets which we promised 
 to our brave Emperor!” Loud cries of “ Vive rEmpereur,” 
 burst again from their lips, amidst the clanking of arms and the 
 waving of caps and shakos. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 THE NIGHT AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 “ ’Tis evening ; around are the dead and the dying, 
 
 Some deep in the tide of their warm blood lying, 
 
 Scorching with thirst and writhing in vain, 
 
 Who shall be found to relieve their pain ? 
 
 Hark, to the sound of the conqueror’s voice, 
 
 Speaking hope to their bosoms—‘ Rejoice! rejoice! ’ ” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The whole day had been devoted to a series of manoeuvres, which 
 had been so ably planned and supported as to have been attended 
 with the most complete success, for the Russian army, surprised 
 in a flank movement, was cut into as many pieces as there were 
 columns brought up to attack. They fled towards the frontier, 
 abandoning guns, caissons, baggage, waggons, and other equipages, 
 which literally blocked up the route. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 113 
 
 Among those stricken down on this “ glorious and decisive 
 day,” was my brother, who had lately been made a corporal-major 
 in my troop, and when on my return to quarters I discovered my 
 loss, I immediately retraced my steps to the field of battle, and 
 while occupied in turning over the dead and the dying, in search 
 of him who had been nourished at the same breast as myself, a 
 rough voice exclaimed, “ What seekest thou ?” It was the 
 Emperor, who was employed looking after and succouring the 
 wounded, in which occupation he passed along the whole line, 
 where the different regiments had been engaged. Evening drew 
 on apace, and his steps were ever and anon arrested and silence 
 proclaimed, in order to allow those who accompanied him to hear 
 the cries of the wounded, and to render such immediate assistance 
 as the case required. “ What seekest thou ? ” was again the 
 demand, when turning round, not immediately recognising the 
 voice, I replied, “ My brother, a corporal-major in the 23rd 
 Chasseurs a Cheval.” “Ah!” was the quick reply, “who art 
 thou ? Surely we have met before.” “ Yes, Sire, in the grand 
 place at Mantua, and at Marengo.” ’Tis well, my friend, we will 
 assist thee,” and dismounting from his horse, he superintended 
 the search ; and when it proved successful, none rejoiced more than 
 he. In the midst of a heap of wounded and dead, so thick and 
 numerous that a hand-to-hand encounter must have taken place at 
 the spot, we found poor Jaques : his horse had been killed under 
 him—probably killed by the same shot that had shattered his left 
 leg—and having fallen upon it, there they lay together, Jaques 
 unable to free himself from the animal, which pinned him to the 
 ground, and faint from loss of blood from a large sabre cut that 
 had laid open his cheek; and here in all probability his mortal 
 career had ended but for the humanity of the Emperor, who 
 poured a glass of brandy down his throat, and assisted with his 
 own hands in placing him on the litter which was to convey him 
 to the hospital. “ Brave boy,” said he to me, “ see him well taken 
 ; care of, and return.” 
 
 I accompanied the litter to the rude hut which was used as a 
 hospital, and having ascertained that there was every prospect of 
 his doing well, I returned to the field. It was now quite dark, 
 and I remained with the Emperor, who was attended by Savary, 
 his aide-de-camp, and a squadron of the guard. We passed the 
 whole night taking off the cloaks of the Russian dead, for the 
 purpose of covering the wounded with them. 1 he Emperor 
 ordered a large fire to be kindled near each heap of the wounded, 
 which the troqpers had drawn together to await the ambulance, 
 and sent for a muster-master, till whose arrival he did not 
 stir away; and having left them a picket of his escort, he enjoined 
 the master not to quit the wounded until they were all safe in 
 the hospital. These brave men loaded him with blessings 
 I blessings more grateful to his heart than the honied words of flat- 
 i terers, or the fawning blandishments of court parasites. I he 
 
 l 3 
 
114 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 devotion of his troops, and his conduct to them, has oft-times 
 been the theme of scorn ; those who have witnessed both are aware 
 of how he won the affections of his soldiers, who well knew that 
 when their usage was hard the fault was none of his, and for this 
 reason they never spared themselves when he called upon them. 
 
 “And you were at Mantua, and the Pyramids, and Marengo?” 
 said the Emperor, again addressing me ; “ are you decorated ?” 
 
 “ No, general; for my share in the forlorn hope at Mantua I 
 received a sabre of honour; my reward at Marengo was a wound, 
 which spared my life again to be devoted to your service.” 
 
 “ Ah ! my hero of the breach, how is it that you left the guard ?” 
 
 I narrated the circumstances, and was desired to appear at head¬ 
 quarters early in the morning. 
 
 Thus passed the night; the most ready assistance was rendered 
 to the wounded, no matter to what nation they belonged, and 
 many an Austrian and Russian received succour from the hands 
 of Napoleon himself. The custom of carrying off their own 
 wounded before those of the enemy has never prevailed with the 
 French; they are too humane to turn a deaf ear to the voice of the 
 unhappy stranger who implores their assistance. It has been said 
 that we left the wounded Russians and Austrians to perish on 
 the field ; never was truth more grossly outraged than in this 
 report. That such was not the belief of the Russians themselves 
 is evidenced by the fact that, in the greater part of the towns and 
 villages where detachments of our army entered in pursuit of the 
 enemy, we found the farms and churches occupied by their 
 wounded, who were abandoned without assistance. General 
 Kutusow was contented with placing a placard over the door, on 
 which was written in French, “ I recommend these unfortunates to 
 the generosity of the Emperor Napoleon, and the humanity of his 
 brave troops.” 
 
 If our success was pleasing, no less were we gratified at the 
 proclamation which Napoleon addressed to us on the following 
 day ; not the least gratifying portion of which was that which even 
 in the hour of victory admitted that he owed his power to the will 
 of the people. “ Soldiers,” it concluded, “ when all that is neces¬ 
 sary to assure the happiness and prosperity of our country has 
 been accomplished, we will return to France, where you will be the 
 objects of my tenderest solicitude. My people will behold you with 
 rapture, and it will be sufficient for you to say, ‘ I was at the battle 
 of Austerlitz,’ to elicit the ready answer, ‘ behold a brave man/ ” 
 
 My brother’s hurt not being so serious as I anticipated, I 
 slowly wound my way to the quarters of the Emperor. There I 
 was met by my Colonel, who said he was ordered to offer me my 
 old grade in the Imperial Guard, and to congratulate me on the 
 determination of Napoleon to bestow on me the cross of the Legion 
 of Honour. I did not hesitate to accept the proferred appoint¬ 
 ment, which was rendered still more pleasant by an assurance 
 that on my brother’s recovery he should be transferred to the same 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 115 
 
 corps. Again was my tide of fortune on the point of flowing, and 
 this time I hoped no adverse circumstance would occur to prevent 
 its continuance. 
 
 While I made preparations for my change of service, the 
 Emperor of Austria had had an interview with Napoleon, an armis¬ 
 tice was concluded, and the principal conditions of the peace which 
 was afterwards negociated, were discussed; in which also the Em¬ 
 peror Alexander’s consent was desired. 
 
 The aide-de-camp of Napoleon, General Savary, accompanied 
 the Emperor of Austria after the interview, to the Russian 
 camp, to ascertain if Alexander embraced the capitulation; I chanced 
 to make one of his suite. We found the Russians without artil¬ 
 lery or baggage, in irremediable disorder. It was midnight when 
 we arrived. General Meerfield had been repulsed at Godding, by 
 Marshal Davoust, and thus the Russian army, surrounded on 
 all sides, was, in some measure, prisoner. 
 
 Prince Czartorinski introduced General Savary to the Emperor 
 Alexander. “ Say to your master,” said the latter, “ that I am 
 about to depart, yesterday he accomplished miracles, that to day 
 i has increased my admiration for him, that he is one predestined 
 by Heaven, and that my army in a hundred years could hardly 
 equal his. But, may I retire with certainty.” “Yes, sire,” said 
 the General, “if your Majesty ratifies that which the Emperors 
 of France and Austria have agreed upon at their interview.” 
 
 “ And what may that be ?” 
 
 “ That your Majesty’s army shall retire by such marches as the 
 Emperor Napoleon shall direct, and that you shall evacuate Austria 
 and Prussian and Austrian Poland; on this condition being accepted, 
 I am ordered to send to our advanced posts, which have already 
 turned your leading columns, and to protect your retreat. The 
 Emperor would respect the friend of the first consul.” 
 
 “ What guarantee does he require ?” 
 
 “ Sire, your word,” said the aid-de-camp. 
 
 “ It is given,” replied the Emperor, and on our quitting his pre¬ 
 sence, I was immediately despatched to Marshal Davoust with 
 orders to cease all movement and remain tranquil. 
 
 The Russian army marched off six days after the battle, in three 
 columns, the Emperor Alexander and his brother Constantine 
 going at the head of the first. 
 
 Our army was now scattered about in divers places, and I 
 quitted my comrades of the 23rd with regret, and accompanied my 
 old corps to Schoenbrunn, where the Emperor took up his residence. 
 On the 29th of December he addressed a proclamation to the 
 Viennese, which flattered them considerably ; and having dined 
 with the Arch-Duke Charles, and presented him with a mag¬ 
 nificent sword, with which he seemed well pleased, we started 
 for Munich. 
 
 At Munich we remained some days, and as the cause of our 
 
116 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 detention is stated in a letter to the Senate, I cannot do better than 
 give it here. 
 
 “ Senators,—Peace has been concluded at Presbourg, and ra¬ 
 tified at Vienna, between the Emperor of Austria and myself. I 
 will, in a special sitting, convey to you its conditions, but having 
 some time since arranged with the King of Bavaria for the mar¬ 
 riage of my son, the Prince Eugene, with the Princess Augusta, 
 and finding myself at Munich at the time when the celebration is 
 to take place, I cannot resist the temptation to behold the union of 
 two persons who are models of their sex. I am, besides, desirous 
 of giving to the Royal House of Bavaria, and the brave people 
 who in this circumstances have rendered me such services, and 
 shown me so much friendship, and whose ancestors were constantly 
 united in politics and in soul with France, this proof of my 
 consideration and particular esteem. 
 
 “The marriage will take place on the 15th of January, and 
 my arrival among my people will thus be retarded some days. After 
 having been without ceasing devoted to the business of the camp, 
 I find a soft enjoyment in occupying myself with the details 
 and duties of a parent, but unwilling to retard the publication of 
 a treaty of peace I have ordered that it should be communicated, 
 without delay, that it may be published as a law of the empire.” 
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 LA BELLE FRANCE. 
 
 “ Le vrai n’est pas tuujours le vraisemblable.” 
 
 French Proverb. 
 
 It has been said that if at the termination of a campaign the 
 number of casualties which each party reports to have occurred to 
 the enemy were added together, the gross amount would be more 
 than the effective force employed ; however true this appear, some 
 excuse may be made from the fact that the number of wounded 
 left upon the field of battle is generally included in that of pri¬ 
 soners, and it is very difficult, even for persons on the spot, to 
 calculate exactly the loss of each party. 
 
 French, Germans, Russians, Italians, Poles—the swarthy Croat 
 and dashing Hungarian, had all inundated with their blood the 
 plains so often watered by that of their barbarous ancestors, and 
 the frequent skirmishes which took place, preludes to more ira- 
 
A SOLDIEll OF FORTUNE. 117 
 
 portant engagements—were often equal to those immense carnages 
 which have sometimes destroyed a great people. 
 
 War, however, was over for a time. The Emperor was employed 
 at Munich in soft dalliance with the Royal Family of Bavaria, 
 and the different divisions of the army had moved off from the 
 scene of our triumph. I had obtained leave to join the detachment 
 by which the standards taken from the enemy during this short 
 but brilliant campaign were conveyed to Paris. 
 
 On our arrival at Frankfort, the captain of the troop persuaded 
 me to accompany him to the theatre, where a company of Italian 
 artists, driven out of Austria by the approach of the contending 
 armies, had pitched their tent. The opera was Mozart’s master¬ 
 piece, II jlauto Magico, pretty well performed by a second-rate 
 company. The name of the ballet I forget, but the principal 
 danseuse was the Ballerina in consequence of whose acquaintance 
 I was obliged to quit my home. 
 
 Time, and the life she had necessarily led in the pursuit of a 
 j profession, which is, perhaps, of all others the most exhausting 
 ' to the energies of the frame, had laid a heavy hand upon her, 
 i and I thought how mad I must have been to have abandoned 
 home, friends, and country, for such an ordinary person. 
 
 But great as had been the change in her, it was nothing when 
 compared to what had taken place in myself, for had she remained 
 < exactly as she was when we first met, my surprise would have 
 ' been the same. My acquaintance with, and subsequent marriage 
 I to, my wife, had dispelled the misty haze that had enveloped ray 
 i first attachment, and now robbed of its deceptive colouring, it 
 stood forth as it was in reality ; rather the impulse of passion 
 than the fruit of affection. It gave room, however, for moralising, 
 and I have come to the conclusion that at fifteen and forty we 
 look upon the world through different ends of the telescope. 
 
 In every town through which we passed, after entering France, 
 we were received with acclamation, for the genius of the country 
 1 was essentially military, and our march was one of triumph. 
 
 I obtained leave of absence for a week to visit Liege, promising to 
 meet the detachment at St. Denis, previous to its arrival at Paris. 
 
 With a heavy heart I pursued my way, and on my arrival 
 j went to the hotel of Madame Fitz. All was there a blank she 
 ; had never returned to it since my departure, nor could all my 
 | inquiries obtain a clue to her residence. One person only was 
 ; supposed to possess the information, and nothing could wring the 
 i secret from him. 
 
 I determined to try the convent at Rocourt, and for that 
 purpose proceeded there. I met with as little success ; and now, 
 despairing of ever meeting with my wife again in this world, I 
 i turned my horse’s head towards France, and proceeded on my 
 journey. 
 
 I pushed on, my anxiety and impatience often putting my horse 
 to the top of his speed, which I would at times check, and pursue 
 
118 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 my way more slowly, and, sunk in gloomy abstraction, seem to 
 take little notice of external objects. The excitement of duty 
 had ceased ; and now, left with nothing but my own sad thoughts 
 to rest my mind upon, I bid fair to become one of those all-but 
 automatons who we occasionally meet with in this world, though 
 they seem not to belong to it. 
 
 Wrapt in one of these gloomy fits, I had not noticed that the 
 shades of evening began to steal on, and that I was still far distant 
 from my resting-place, when I was accosted by a demand of how 
 far it was to the next village ? Roused from my reverie by the 
 voice of the questioner, I prepared to reply to the best of my 
 ability, when on raising my eyes I beheld a man in the garb of an 
 ecclesiastic slowly pursuing the same road as myself, the mule 
 on which he rode, evidently well fed and cared for, seeming 
 determined not to part company with my quicker moving charger. 
 As our road lay together for the next stage, we soon got into 
 conversation, and on arriving at the cabaret where we were to 
 to pass the night, the warm smell of the viands, and the comfortable 
 appearance of a wood fire, soon chilled the restraint that might 
 be expected to exist between two strangers, and the old man 
 having refreshed himself, proceeded to inform me of the history of 
 his journey. 
 
 “ I have been,” said he, “ for many years an inhabitant of Liege, 
 in which place I hoped to end my days in peace, when I suddenly 
 received a summons to attend the only child of my former patron, 
 then at the point of death, and my old heart has been wrung by 
 a scene such as I never hoped to have witnessed. Spare me the 
 recital, however, my son, for I find my feelings too much harrowed 
 up to enable me to speak of it with calmness, and I will, if you 
 please, retire without the proferred report.” 
 
 “ Not so, father ; for the scene of your labours has, alas 1 pe¬ 
 culiar interest for me;—there some of the happiest, as well as the 
 most miserable hours of my existence, have been passed ; and if, 
 as you say, you are an old inhabitant of Liege, perhaps you can 
 aid me in a search which has induced me to quit the army to 
 undertake.” 
 
 “ I have heard you say you had dwelt at Liege, and yet I 
 know you not. Your name and occupation ? ” 
 
 “ Captain Gazzola, of the 23rd Chasseurs a Cheval.” 
 
 “ Great God,” he exclaimed, as he raised his hands in the 
 attitude of prayer, “ I thank thee for this opportunity of meeting 
 with one for whom I was in search. Yes, young man, I was 
 about to seek thee, for now that peace has been proclaimed, I 
 doubted not that thou would’st be found amongst those whom 
 the fortune of war had allowed to return to France. I was long 
 the confessor of Madame Fitz. Nay start not ; I knew thy wife, 
 for such alas I discovered was the fact, when the discovery came 
 too late.” 
 
 To start from my chair, clutch the old man wildly by the arm, 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 119 
 
 and demand the present abode of her my soul held most dear, 
 was but the work of an instant, while he with feeble efforts at¬ 
 tempted to shake me off, and finding this ineffectual, entreated 
 me to be calm, and resumed his seat. 
 
 “ I said that I was the confessor of Madame Fitz. Some six 
 weeks since I was sent for to witness the closing in death of those 
 3yes, which in youth I had often contemplated with delight; but 
 let me not digress. When you went first to the convent at 
 Rocourt, Madame determined to remove her daughter farther from 
 he sphere of your duty, and took her to a convent of Ursulines 
 it Namur ; and here every stratagem that could be devised was 
 made use of to induce her to believe that you had abandoned her. 
 Her marriage was ridiculed as a farce, and her seclusion pointed 
 out as the only means to preserve her character. With a woman’s 
 'eliance on him to whom her virgin heart had been given, she 
 mceived all their tales with distrust, and not doubting that you 
 would sooner or later discover her retreat, she passed her time in 
 ;ears for her bereavement and prayers for your return. It was 
 he old lady who procured the order for your sudden departure, 
 md by some means or other she obtained a correct account of your 
 novements ; for after the battle of Lansberg, in which your regi¬ 
 ment was engaged, the particulars of which she had received, she 
 mtered her daughter’s apartment one morning, and throwing an 
 >pen letter on the table, exclaimed, f At length, thank God, the 
 iper has received the reward of his crimes ; yes, Adela, the 
 vretch who would have seduced you from your home, now lies 
 i stiffened corse under the walls of Lansberg.’ Ill-judging woman, 
 so sudden was the announcement, so apparently true the news, that 
 littering a loud scream, your wife fell to the ground, from which 
 ihe was carried to her bed, never to rise from it again.” 
 
 “ Premature labour came on—a dead child was the result; and 
 vhile the mother occasionally seemed to have moments of recol¬ 
 ection, the greater part of her time was spent in perfect uncon¬ 
 sciousness of all that was passing around her, the only change 
 being from low muttering delirium to raving insanity.” 
 
 “ I had been the intimate friend and spiritual adviser of her fa- 
 her, and loved her as my own child; and in this dilemma her 
 nother, whose presence always made her much worse, wrote to 
 |ne, and I went to her. In one of her lucid intervals she re¬ 
 cognised me, and ere the immediate approach of death a merciful 
 Providence vouchsafed a return to reason, and she gave me the 
 )articulars of your acquaintance and marriage. Thank God! 
 vhat appeared to me a heavy sin was thus lightened, and in these 
 >ld arms, on this bosom, she breathed her last, enjoining me, as I 
 hoped for peace here and forgiveness hereafter, to seek thee in the 
 jinnies of the Emperor, and, if living, convey to thee this thy first 
 rift, and to her, next to thy affection, her dearest treasure, 
 n this packet thou wilt find much that will inform thee of 
 he past, may it afford thee guidance for the future ; and should 
 
120 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 it make thee a wiser and a better man, I will not regret that 
 my mission has drawn me far from my home and the more imme¬ 
 diate sphere of my duties. Young man, I bid thee farewell; in 
 this world we may not meet again.” 
 
 Rising from his chair he took the light from the table and left 
 the room, while I, stunned by the recital of what I had heard, 
 remained fixed to my seat. When I in some measure recovered 
 myself, his chair was vacant, and all seemed a dream, a cheat of 
 an over-wrought fancy; but the packet was upon the table—it 
 was in truth no cheating vision of the mind—and snatching up 
 the remaining candle, I hurried up stairs and besought the old 
 man to return to me again. 
 
 Tears, entreaties, threats, were of no avail. “ In this world we 
 may not meet again,” was his reply, and I slowly descended to 
 peruse the last traces of my adored but lost Adela. 
 
 Thus passed the night. From the prying eye of the world these 
 last memorials of my fond one are sacred. There were many let¬ 
 ters, some in accents of despair, bewailing my absence, others in 
 terms of passion denouncing my desertion ; still through all there 
 beamed the most devoted affection—all were blotted and marked 
 by tears. As the morning came on exhausted nature claimed re¬ 
 pose, and on awaking from a sound slumber and seeking the 
 stable of the inn, I found the old priest had departed while I 
 slept, determined to prevent a recurrence of our meeting. Farther 
 pursuit was useless, so having paid my bill I mounted my horse, 
 and, with feelings hovering between madness and despair, pur¬ 
 sued my way to St. Denis. 
 
 CHAP. XXX. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 -Turn now, and mark instead, 
 
 Those tables set in long array, whereon 
 Are cloths partitioned into black and red, 
 
 Strewn o’er with cards and heaps of glittering coin, 
 
 Altars alike of Momus, and of Mammon ;— 
 
 Around their worshippers in silence wait, 
 
 While, with divining rod, th’ high priest alone 
 
 Is heard, as he proclaims aloud the fate 
 
 Of all—then sounds the yell of woe or joy elate. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 Paris ! dear, enchanting Paris ! what a host of recollections come 
 thronging o’er my brain, as I recal my first entry into thy crowded 
 streets with the hundred veterans, chosen from the ranks of a 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 121 
 
 gallant army, to bear the trophies of our prowess to the capital of 
 the world! 
 
 The cortege traversed the principal streets, having entered the city 
 by the Porte St. Denis, each street lined by a triple row of spec¬ 
 tators, all with eyes filled with pride, mingled with respect, 
 eagerly gazing on the standards, which borne aloft fluttered in the 
 breeze, emblems at once of our devotion and our courage. Each 
 of the veterans who accompanied them was decorated with the 
 cross of the Legion of Honour—a cross only gained on the field 
 of victory by the most determined heroism, and proving of itself, 
 an insignia of glory, and a sufficient guarantee that those who 
 bore it had a right to the honourable mission with which they 
 were charged. 
 
 As these glorious spoils—these astounding witnesses of the 
 heroism of the French army advanced, the population became 
 more dense ; and the windows of the different houses crowded 
 with well-dressed women. Loud cries of “ Vive l’Empereur \” 
 “ Vive la Grande Armee l” burst from all sides ; their hearts 
 seemed swelling with a mixture of admiration and joy, which only 
 relieved itself by cheering; and although their cries rent the air, 
 it seemed as if the utterers were unable to give sufficient vent to 
 their feelings, but wanted the lungs of stentors to increase their 
 expression. 
 
 In this way we advanced, till passing by the Boulevards to 
 the Place Louis XVI. we drew up a few minutes, as much to allow 
 us to re-form our procession, broken by the pressure of the crowd, 
 as to afford the municipal authorities an opportunity to join us ere 
 we proceeded to the Invalides. 
 
 I had seen the entry of a conqueror into Milan—the progress of 
 a successful general into Munich—the passage of an Emperor to 
 Vienna—but these scenes were tame compared with the enthusiasm 
 of the Parisians as the procession crossed the bridge, and took the 
 route to the Hotel des Invalides. On arriving at the Esplanade, 
 the municipal guards of Paris, and such regiments as were in 
 garrison were drawn up; and the oldest grenadier passing into 
 the church first, deposited his standard on the altar ; one by one we 
 followed, till all were laid in their last resting-place, though we 
 little thought that their slumber was to be so soon disturbed. 
 
 On the night of the 30th of March, 1814, the eve of the entry of 
 the allied armies into Paris, Joseph Buonaparte ordered the sword 
 of Frederick the Great, which was deposited in the Invalides, to be 
 broken, and upwards of 3000 stand of colours, among which 
 were those I assisted to bring in, the memorials of innumerable 
 triumphs of the French armies, to be burnt. This wanton devas¬ 
 tation was carried into effect, and while the hospital was robbed of 
 one of its greatest ornaments, posterity was deprived of the con¬ 
 templation of those marks of valour which prove incentives to the 
 rising generation. 
 
 Having entered the barracks of the Imperial Guard, my first 
 
 M 
 
122 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 enquiry was after my brother, and learning that he was so far re¬ 
 covered as to be able to bear the journey, and was soon expected in 
 Paris, I gave myself no farther uneasiness on that score, but set 
 about my duties with an alacrity, sharpened by the necessity of 
 overcoming the demon thought which weighed upon my spirit, 
 and bowed my energies to the ground. 
 
 Of all the madnesses to which an excited mind can give way, 
 may Heaven preserve me from the salon de jeu j I have drank, 
 and deeply, of the stream of dissipation, and wasted the savings 
 of months—the prize money of many a battle field—in less time 
 than it would take me now to count it. What matter ; I sought 
 excitement, and as the wine cup is seldom resorted to with us, I 
 found a sure and more deperate method of stimulating my brain 
 to frenzy. Over the mad folly of those days let me draw a veil, 
 and narrate a circumstance that first disgusted me, and then drove 
 me from this temple of sin. 
 
 Among the players who frequented the house in which I passed 
 most of my evenings, was a Frenchman, who had originally been 
 master of arms in one of the cavalry regiments, but for some 
 act of bravery in the field, had been promoted, and then held a 
 sous-lieutenant’s commission in the artillery of the Guard. From 
 so frequently meeting at the same table, a speaking acquaintance 
 arose between us—an acquaintance which perhaps might have 
 ripened into intimacy, but that I noticed in him a recklessness of 
 language which ill-suited my feelings, and which was calculated to 
 make strife between him and any of his intimates. 
 
 One evening fortune had frowned upon him ; he had lost several 
 heavy stakes, and having applied to the banker for a loan and 
 been refused, he got up from his seat, and crossing to where I 
 stood, occasionally throwing a small stake on the table, demanded, 
 rather than requested, a thousand francs. 
 
 There was a fierceness and abruptness in his manner which 
 I did not like, and I civilly declined, continuing to leave my stake 
 upon the table, until the red having won five or six times succes¬ 
 sively, it had accumulated to a large sum. “'Why do you not pick 
 up your winnings,” said Laroche ? “ see what luck you have had, 
 and yet decline to lend a poor devil, who is cleaned out, a paltry 
 thousand francs.” I took no notice of him, and suffered my stake 
 to remain. Again red came up. “ Fool,” cried he, “ remove 
 your money.” “ Gentleman,” said the croupier, “ make your 
 game.” “ The game’s made—red wins.” Maddened beyond en¬ 
 durance at my success, Laroche seized a rake, and began to pull 
 the money towards me ; and this, or perhaps a feeling of dislike 
 induced me to desire him to desist. I coolly replaced the money, 
 again the cards were dealt, again red won, when I took the money 
 from the table, pocketing some ten or twelve thousand francs. 
 The gestures of my companion could no longer be mistaken. 
 Maddened by disappointment and rage, he applied an epithet to 
 me the most unwarrantable ; when drawing my sword, I should 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 123 
 
 have inflicted personal chastisement on him on the spot, but thatr 
 the people round the table interfered and prevented me. A meet¬ 
 ing was demanded, and accorded, and at six on the morrow I 
 was to parade in the Bois de Boulogne, to make my first essay 
 in the duel. 
 
 So little was thought of an affair of the kind at the time, that 
 I made no preparations, and true to the appointed hour, appeared 
 the next morning in the field. A thick mist hung upon the trees, 
 and a cold frosty air struck a chill through my frame; nor was my 
 equanimity at all increased at finding that my adversary had made 
 choice of pistols instead of swords. I flattered myself that with 
 the latter weapon I was a match for any man in the army, with 
 the former I had little acquaintance; and when on arriving at the 
 spot I found my adversary already there, who, with a meaning look, 
 threw up a half franc, and firing at it in the air, struck it at ten 
 paces distance, I confess I longed to be again on the field of Ma¬ 
 rengo, or even in the breach at Mantua. 
 
 My second noticed my trepidation, and augured ill for the result, 
 but being more au fait at such matters than myself he took me 
 aside, and cautioning me to fire quick as my only chance, bid me 
 keep my eye on him, and let go the moment the word was on 
 his lips. This timely hint no doubt saved my life. The ground 
 was measured, and we took our places; one, two, were given, and 
 before the sound of three could reach my ear, my ball had struck 
 my adversary’s right arm, shattering the bone to pieces, while 
 his ball, discharged a second after, had just missed my head, car¬ 
 rying away a piece of my left ear. The loss was trifling in com¬ 
 parison with the narrowness of my escape, and as my adversary 
 was hors de combat, there was no prolonging the fight, and thus 
 ended my first duel. 
 
 I have been in many an encounter of the kind since then, but 
 have always declined the use of pistols; a certain tingling in 
 my left ear warning me that the next time I might not be so 
 fortunate. 
 
 A life of dissipation however soon palls, and garrison duty, 
 although in attendance on a court, has little attraction for one 
 whose time has been spent in the bustle of a camp. I sighed for 
 more stirring scenes, for although we had reviews, inspections, 
 sham fights, and what not, and plenty of drilling and such like 
 amusement, to me there was nothing like the bivouac, and the 
 watch-fires; and I longed to be once more with my dashing 
 companions of the 23 rd, who were on duty in the north of Italy. 
 
 My duties were, however, confined to an attendance on the court, 
 and though belonging to it, I could never become one of it; dis¬ 
 sipation brought each succeeding day to the close, the later hours 
 of the twenty-four being generally spent in the salon de jeu. 
 
J24 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 Alfred : “ Well, uncle, if I do play ; 
 
 All gentlemen do play !” 
 
 Sir Andrew: “ Pshaw, sir, don’t tell me about play j 
 ’Tis gambling, sheer gambling, and leads 
 To duelling, destruction, and to death. 
 
 The reckless frequenters of hell here but taste 
 The earlier bitterness of that which is to come.” 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 How few are there in this life sufficiently mindful of the star that 
 might guide, or the chart that might direct them in their voyage 
 towards eternity, who, while they are conscious that they are 
 floating onwards to that gulf which must eventually receive them, 
 are yet sufficiently careful that their course may be aright. Though 
 they are careless of what ought to be the great object of their 
 existence, and by that very carelessness exposed to all the contin¬ 
 gencies which such a changeful state of being as ours exposes 
 them to, yet on they go, alike regardless of the dangers to be 
 dreaded, the shoals by which they are encompassed, or the rocks 
 by which they are threatened, borne forward by an impulse, which, 
 though invisible, is not the less irresistible. 
 
 Such, indeed, was my case at the period of which I speak; and 
 though my conduct in the duel had gained me much credit with 
 my comrades, still was that conduct reprehensible. I had been 
 assailed in a gambling-house, and had no right to be satisfied with 
 the circumstance which had placed my own life, as w r ell as that of 
 a fellow-creature, in danger. I recoiled with horror, it is true, at 
 the thought of becoming a duellist, yet such was the character of 
 my adversary", and if the general reports W'ere true, he w r as too 
 implacable an enemy to let the affair remain as it was. 
 
 With all these impressions crowding on my brain, my visits 
 to the saloon were not the less frequent; and as his wound neces¬ 
 sarily confined him to his house, the affair had passed from my 
 mind, and I pursued the blind goddess with that variable success 
 which generally attends the habitudes of such places. 
 
 Among the frequenters of the saloon v r as Lajarre, who, though 
 suffered to go at large, w r as under the surveillance of the police, 
 Fouche the indefatigable director of that force, having information 
 that he was in correspondence with parties in England. He was a 
 remarkably pleasant person, and played very little, contenting 
 himself with an occasional coup or so, his time being spent in con¬ 
 versation. I passed many hours in his society, little dreaming of 
 the net I was weaving around me, or of the events which this 
 
A SOLDIER 01’ FORTUNE. 
 
 125 
 
 casual intercourse was likely to produce. As ill luck would have 
 it, I was engaged in conversation with him the first evening 
 Laroche made his appearance since the duel, about six weeks after 
 our meeting, and having had a greater run of ill-fortune than usual, 
 my mind was soured in proportion. He entered the saloon with 
 his arm in a sling, and throwing himself into the first vacant 
 chair, laid down his stake. He was unsuccessful. Again and 
 again the result was the same ; when, turning round with an 
 audible curse, his dark scowl rested upon me ; the expression of 
 his wan and pallid features satisfied me that although we had met, 
 and he was the sufferer, he was far from being satisfied with the 
 result. 
 
 Had I been mindful of the quicksands that surrounded me I 
 should have left the room, and there the matter might have ended, 
 I, however, returned scowl for scowl, and with dark thoughts 
 , mantling in my bosom, remained at the table. 
 
 Fortune, however, seemed out of temper^ with each of us, for 
 j we both backed the same colour, and lost, till having declared 
 [ slightly in our favour, Laroche seized a rake, and, while my back 
 was turned, in reply to the casual observation of a bystander, 
 removed my money as well as his own. On my demanding my 
 stake he replied, with a low derisive laugh, that I was entitled to 
 none, and bid me seek it of the croupier. Now he well knew how 
 , useless would be such an appeal, for when two or three persons 
 ' win on the same colour, the croupier merely puts down the gross 
 amount, leaving each party to reclaim his own stake. 
 
 “You had no stake,” was repeated, “and if you had you should 
 have attended to your game and claimed it; I took none of yours, 
 and none will I return.” 
 
 It was evident, from his manner, that he was desirous of fastening 
 a quarrel on me, which I was equally anxious to avoid, as much 
 from his crippled condition as from any fear for myself. Nothing, 
 however, would do, and I prepared to quit the table, when a friend 
 of his called me aside, and said that as I had accused Laroche of 
 stealing my stake, I must give him a meeting. 
 
 I applied to Lajarre, and left the two in conversation, while I 
 awaited the result of the conference. 
 
 Now, although duelling may, and ought to be condemned, 
 W’hen had recourse to on trifling occasions, still there are circum¬ 
 stances which render it not only venial but necessary. The 
 equality upon which the pistol puts the strong man and the weak 
 —the chastisement it affords for crimes unnoticed in the statute 
 book, and therefore without the pale of the law—the redress it 
 affords for grievances that must otherwise go unredressed, may in 
 some measure palliate the practice ; and although the legist and 
 the citizen may censure it altogether, society has become too 
 civilized, and consequently too artificial, to admit of its total 
 abolition. In the French army, too, it had unfortunately become 
 common ; I was not, therefore, much surprised that on Lajarre’s 
 
 m 3 
 

 126 * SCENES IN THE LIEE OF 
 
 return he informed me that Laroche demanded another meeting 
 on the morrow. 
 
 “ Let him wait till he is well,” was my reply, “ and I will 
 then accommodate him.” 
 
 “ Not so, you must meet him at once; and as his arm is 
 disabled, he proposes that you should have two pistols, one loaded, 
 the other empty, and having deposited them in a bag, toss for 
 choice, and draw them forth. Standing at the two corners of a 
 pocket handkerchief, let each man pull, and the one who has the 
 ill luck to get the empty weapon, muss then inevitably fall.” 
 
 I declined a meeting the result of which could be nothing less 
 than murder; and as he, being the aggressor, had no right 
 to the choice of weapons, declared my intention of appealing to the 
 Emperor, unless he were content to meet me in the usual way, 
 for which purpose I would wait till his arm was sufficiently re¬ 
 covered. 
 
 Stung by my denial, he denounced me to the police as the 
 friend and accomplice of Lajarre; and on returning to my barracks 
 one day from Versailles, whither I had been in attendance on 
 the Emperor, I found my drawers had been searched, my papers 
 removed, and an order for my immediate arrest. 
 
 On appearing before the Prefect of Police, my innocence was 
 soon made manifest, nothing being found amongst my papers that 
 could warrant my detention ; and Lajarre, who was also pri¬ 
 vately examined, denying all knowledge of me, except as a fre¬ 
 quenter of the salon ; in fact, so perfect was the system of espionage, 
 that had any connection existed between us, the police would 
 have had cognizance of it, so I was ordered to return to my 
 duty. 
 
 All this was bad enough, and my life would have been intolera¬ 
 ble, as I had somehow contracted a habit of visiting the saloon 
 each evening that I was not on duty, if my brother had not 
 arrived in Paris, and between anxiety for his health, and constant 
 attendance on the Court between Paris and Versailles, I had 
 enough to do without troubling myself about Laroche. Our 
 major, to whom I had confided the whole affair, decided that I was 
 right, and declared that if notice were taken of the matter 
 during my absence he would prevent any stigma being cast 
 upon my character, by appearing in my place Gratified by this 
 assurance, and satisfied that I was confiding in one on whom 
 the breath of reproach never lested, I took no further care about 
 it and thus the matter rested, for Laroche being detected soon after 
 in an attempt to cheat the bank, was ignominiously driven from 
 the room, and would in all probability have been taken up by the 
 police had he not thought it prudent to absent himself from Paris. 
 
 I was on duty one evening at Versailles, and on strolling through 
 the gardens of the Palace, I came unawares near the little Trianon, 
 then the favourite haunt of the Empress Josephine, as it had pre¬ 
 viously been of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. It was about 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 127 
 
 
 tbe middle of the month of July, and the atmosphere was warm 
 and sultry, when divesting myself of sabre and sabretache, I 
 stretched myself under one of tbe trees, whose shade extended 
 almost close to the building. How long I may have slept I 
 know not, but on awaking I was not a little alarmed at finding that 
 my arms were gone, and I was that anomalous animal, a sol¬ 
 dier on guard without his sword. 
 
 I confess my reflections were anything but pleasant, and I was 
 cogitating over my situation when a merry ringing laugh from 
 within aroused me from my reverie, and stepping up to the 
 door I knocked. It was opened by the Empress, who advancing, 
 requested, with much solemnity, to know my errand. Stam¬ 
 mering out my loss, I beseeched her to inform me if she knew 
 by whom I had been robbed, when a laugh from behind the door 
 revealed one of her attendants, with whom I had oftentimes ex¬ 
 changed a joke while on duty. 
 
 “Ah ! Captain Gazzola,” said she, “ fairly caught, and, but for 
 the intercession of our good lady, 1 should certainly have carried 
 your arms and laid them at the feet of his Majesty, who. Heaven 
 knows, would have much reason to be grateful for so good a 
 watch.” 
 
 “ Cease trifler,” said the Empress, “ and return the arms, which 
 I assure you, captain, would never have been brought here, but that 
 this madcap found them while you slept, and had taken possession 
 of them ere I was aware. May they prove as useful in our defence 
 as I see they have hitherto been; for the cross you wear is a 
 sufficient proof that they have not always been forgotten as they 
 were this evening. Remember that a good soldier is never found 
 sleeping on his post. But hist, begone, for see the Emperor 
 approaches.” 
 
 Bending on one knee, about to kiss the hand extended me, 
 I was not aware that Napoleon was so near, till his deep voice 
 exclaimed, “ Arrete,” and I recovered my position. 
 
 “Whence come you, and what do you here?” was the brief 
 exclamation. 
 
 Thoroughly alarmed, the Empress motioned me to be silent, and 
 explained that she supposed some little love affair brought her at¬ 
 tendant and myself together, when he roughly exclaimed, “ I will 
 have no love affairs with the Officersof the Guard, hence sir, return 
 to your barracks, and remember that your presence here can 
 be dispensed with until I require it.” 
 
 I made no reply but scampered off to my quarters, and the next 
 morning received orders to accompany the relief that was going 
 into Paris. 
 
128 * 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 WEIMAR. 
 
 “ Que du pauvre soldat deplorable est la chance, 
 
 Quand la guerre finit son malheur commence.” 
 
 French Chanson. 
 
 It lias been well said that idleness is the prolific parent of evil, 
 and since my sojourn in Paris, I had added another to the 
 already innumerable illustrationsof the truth of the proverb. In 
 addition to the affair with Laroche, from further consequences on 
 which score his own conduct had released me, I had been in two 
 or three minor escapades, which I have not thought it worth wdiile 
 to record, and now my unfortunate slumber in the garden at 
 Versailles seemed a crowning misery, having put me under the 
 ban of him without wdiose smile the career of the soldier was not 
 likely to be a very fortunate one. I ought perhaps to have felt 
 flattered by the explanation of the Empress, for she whose name 
 was thus sought to be coupled with mine was, in addition to the 
 gifts of nature, in possession of many of those received with favour 
 in the world, yet though wealth, titles, estates were hers, I was 
 anything but satisfied ; but as she had volunteered, and might 
 perhaps have felt annoyed at the liberty her attendant had been 
 taking, as in some measure countenancing an acquaintance which 
 had no right to exist, I could not undeceive the Emperor, and 
 submitted to the banishment with the best grace I could, hoping 
 that the proverbial restlessness of the French would soon plunge 
 them into war, and that I should again resume my station in the 
 camp and the battle field, which seemed more congenial to my 
 taste, and conducive to my success in life, than the gilded precincts 
 of the court, or the gay society of the capital seemed destined 
 to be. 
 
 However, neither my devotion to the latter, nor my attention on 
 my brother, who now, perfectly recovered, had resumed his duties 
 with the regiment, had prevented me from frequently presenting 
 myself at the levees at the Tuileries. A hope of obtaining the first 
 majority that fell vacant animating me. I felt myself misplaced in 
 garrison, and liked not the listlessness that attends a want of 
 employment, more varied duties and stirring scenes falling in with 
 my taste. Now, however, all chance of promotion seemed at an 
 end, and I was beginning to despair, when suddenly Paris became 
 alive with the report that the Emperor of Russia had failed to 
 ratify the treaty submitted to him, and that, in order to be prepared 
 for anything that might occur, the Emperor had determined to 
 concentrate a large force on the Rhine. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 129 
 
 All was now bustle and confusion ; regiment after regiment 
 commenced its march, and in a short time Strasbourg, Mayence, 
 and Franconia were occupied, and the army awaited but his 
 presence, who was again to lead them on to victory. On the 25th 
 of September, 1806, he quitted Paris, sped on without delay to 
 Mayence, and having established his head-quarters at Bamberg, 
 became aware of the treaty between Russia and Prussia, and that 
 it was not with the former alone we were to contend. 
 
 On the 6th of October, at Bamberg, he addressed his first 
 proclamation to the troops ; and then having divided them so as 
 to march on three different points, we were once more in motion. 
 
 The right, composed of the corps of Ney and Soult and a 
 division of Bavarians, marched on Bareuth ; the centre, formed 
 by the reserve, under Murat, Bernadette’s corps, Davoust, and 
 the Imperial Guard, debouched by Bamberg on Cornach, and 
 arriving at Saalbourg on the 8th, marched by Schleitz on Gera ; 
 i while the left, composed of the corps of Lannes and Augereau, 
 \ advanced by Schweinfurth, on Cobourg Graffenthal, and Saalfield. 
 
 Napoleon having made these dispositions, his troops were 
 animated by his presence with the wildest enthusiasm. The battle 
 ; of Austerlitz had annihilated at once the ancient prejudice of the 
 ' superiority of the Russians, and now we were about to destroy, 
 without the chance of restoration, the reputation for manoeuvre 
 which the Prussians had maintained since the time when the great 
 Frederick directed their movements. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the Russian and Prussian alliance 
 was effected in the hope of finding France unprepared ; instead, 
 however, of attacking her at a moment of weakness, she had never 
 been stronger or more fit to resist the aggression. The event 
 justified the conclusion, for we find this great Captain, marching 
 at the head of large armies, moving with an astonishing facility 
 extraordinary masses of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and so 
 disposing them as to have always ready to his hand, and without 
 the least confusion or derangement of his plans, such a force that 
 victory was constantly ranged on his side. Generals worthy to 
 execute the designs of the first Captain of Europe had conducted 
 their divisions to the places assigned to them. r Ihe memory of 
 former victories, the feeling of injustice on the part of our enemies, 
 the desire for revenge, the determination to succeed, animated 
 each breast, and combined together to promise a favourable issue 
 to the projects of Napoleon. 
 
 The Prussian army, under the orders of the Duke of Brunswick, 
 reinforced by the Flessian and Saxon troops, passed the Elbe near 
 to Minden, and while one portion occupied Eisenach, the other 
 advanced on Hall and Leipsic. It was composed of 130,000 men, 
 under the command of the King, whose counsels were supposed 
 to be animated by the spirit of his great predecessor, who had 
 left the Prussian troops second to none. 
 
130 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Napoleon having 1 been informed that the Queen of Prussia, 
 wearing the uniform of the dragoons of the guard, and riding en 
 cavalier, was in the camp, from whence she issued letters to excite 
 the inhabitants to rise up against us, said to Berthier, “ Marshal, 
 they have made us an appointment for the 8th ; an appointment 
 from which a Frenchman would never shrink ; but as I am told 
 that there is a lovely Queen who wishes to be a witness of our 
 encounters, let us be courteous, and make a forced inarch on 
 Saxony.” 
 
 We first encountered the left of the enemy, who had concentra¬ 
 ted his forces between the Saale and the Verra, his right on 
 Eisenach, and his left extended from Weimar to the heights which 
 overlook the country between that town and Jena. He had forti¬ 
 fied Schleitz, Saalfield, Saalbourg, and Hoff; numerous advanced 
 posts protected the whole of his line ; the Thuringian woods 
 and the mountains which on one side bounded the frontiers of 
 Saxony, covered his front, and rendered his position a formidable 
 one. In one respect, however, it was a bad one, because it pre¬ 
 vented him sufficiently extending his forces on the left, and this 
 circumstance was in part the cause of his defeat. 
 
 On the 9th of October Soult carried Hoff, as well as the whole of 
 the magazines, taking some prisoners ; Murat crossed the Saale 
 at Saalbourg, driving before him a Prussian regiment which 
 opposed his passage ; while Napoleon, with the corps of Ber- 
 nadotte, carried the village of Schleitz, although 4,000 Prussians 
 and 3,000 Saxons endeavoured to defend it. General Watier en¬ 
 deavoured to pursue them, but had calculated badly, and being 
 attacked and repulsed, was driven back on the infantry, who 
 charged the enemy and rescued him, giving time to General 
 Lasalle to come up, who took 300 prisoners and 400 horses. 
 While Bernadotte occupied Auma, Murat advanced on Gera, 
 and Lasalle following up his success, overthrew the baggage guard, 
 taking 500 caissons and baggage waggons. 
 
 Lannes was at Cobourg, and Suchet’s division at Saalfield at¬ 
 tacked the corps under the orders of Prince Louis of Prussia. 
 Our infantry there occupied a bog, or were dispersed through a 
 wood. The Hussars charged with such impetuosity that the 
 enemy’s horse were thrown in disorder. In vain the Prince 
 sought to rally them—in vain he cheered them on—all was useless ; 
 a ball struck him from his horse, and he expired in the field of 
 honour, as became a warrior. A thousand prisoners, six hundred 
 left dead on the field, and thirty pieces of cannon were the 
 results of this brilliant affair. 
 
 These affairs, like the first flourishes of the maestro ere the serious 
 business of the orchestra commences, were but the preludes 
 of more stirring actions to come. I had shared the advance of La¬ 
 salle, and partaken of the plunder which the enemy’s baggage 
 waggons afforded; added to which I hoped that my bearing in the 
 field had in some measure obliterated the remembrance of the 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 131 
 
 Little Trianon. He had noticed me once and kindly, and as 
 ;he acts of every soldier were known to him, I did not doubt that 
 m unwearied perseverance in my duty would meet its reward, 
 rhe enemy, moreover, astonished by our success, seemed a 
 ittle confounded also ; while the Emperor, determined to take 
 idvantage of the season, which was beautiful, ordered forced 
 narches in advance, took the magazines of the Prussian army, 
 turning it entirely, and by this daring and well-planned manoeuvre 
 lisconcerted the whole plans of the Duke of Brunswick and his 
 generals. 
 
 The duke thought he should oppose great obstacles to the 
 movements of the French army, by debouching on Frankfort 
 with his right, Wurtzbourg with his centre, and on Bamberg 
 with his left; such was said to have been his intention, but it has 
 been doubted ; for if we believe that he really meditated and 
 intended to execute these simple manoeuvres, we must give Na¬ 
 poleon credit for first discovering and then preventing them, 
 and by so executing a flank movement as to turn his left, and 
 (Occupy so favourable a position himself that he had effected the de¬ 
 struction of the hopes of the Prussian general, and destroyed all his 
 plans. Whether this were correct or not remains for ever uncer¬ 
 tain ; the facts are indisputable ; the bravery of our troops, the 
 rapidity of their movements, the forethought of our general, and 
 the execution of his well-laid plans, all combined together, satisfied 
 the most desponding that the long-expected day must soon arrive 
 when the two armies would be opposed to each other in force 
 instead of by detachments; and when on the 13th of October we 
 arrived at Weimar, the moment for the struggle appeared to 
 have arrived. 
 
 I was again with the “ Old Guard/’ and having witnessed the 
 Pyramids, Marengo, Austerlitz, did not for one moment doubt 
 another great victory would crown our arms. I bad won the cross 
 of the Legion of Honour—fresh laurels were to be reaped, an 
 indiscretion to be wiped off. I therefore determined “to bear me 
 as became a man,” let what might be the result, resolving at the 
 same time that my brother, who was now my constant companion, 
 ; should also share in the harvest. 
 
132 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 JENA. 
 
 “ There was wrath in that wild heaven ; 
 
 Earth was sepulchral dark—at once a war 
 Peal’d round the mountain tops, like ocean driven 
 Before the thunders on the eternal shore ; 
 
 Down rush’d, as if a sudden earthquake tore 
 The bowels of the hills, a flood of fire. 
 
 Cruly. 
 
 At two, p.m., on the 13th of October, Napoleon arrived at Jena, 
 and from the height of a plateau which was occupied by the 
 advanced guard, perceived the dispositions of the enemy, who 
 prepared to manoeuvre for the attack on the morrow, and open the 
 different debouches of the Saale. The Prussians defended the 
 road from Jena to Weimar by an imposing fore*, and an unassail¬ 
 able position, seeming to think that the French could not descend 
 into the plain without opening this passage. It appeared impossible 
 to get the artillery on the plateau, which was besides very con¬ 
 fined, but by working all night a road was made through the rock, 
 and the guns were got up. 
 
 The heavy cavalry, which was not yet united to the army, could 
 not arrive before mid-day, and the cavalry of the guard was 
 dispersed in various places, some being at a distance of ten 
 leagues. These considerations, however, did not weigh with 
 Napoleon ; he drew out in battalion on the plateau which the 
 advanced guard had occupied, and opposite to where the enemy 
 was in position, the whole corps of Marshal Lannes, and the Foot 
 Guards under the orders of Marshal Lefevre, and bivouacked in 
 the midst of them. 
 
 From this position he addressed a letter to the King of Prussia, 
 which might in all probability have terminated the war, but that 
 unfortunately it was not delivered till the moment when the battle 
 of Jena was lost. The General Hohenlohe had suppressed it, 
 without respect for the King his master, or the French Emperor, 
 and by thus failing in his duty, plunged the Prussians in the 
 miseries into which they afterwards fell ; an act of infidelity which 
 was productive of the most disastrous consequences. 
 
 It may be said that I place too much reliance on the forethought 
 of the Emperor, and often give him credit for that which was 
 the result of chance, or of fortuitous circumstances. My expe¬ 
 rience of his genius warrants me in according him the highest 
 rank amongst contemporary generals, if not amongst those that 
 have ever lived. He alone had the talent to foresee the results of 
 a great war, complicated as this was ; his genius only seemed 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 133 
 
 ufficient to point out the effects which followed, for at an early 
 eriod of the campaign he wrote to his Minister of War, “ that 
 hree or four days after the opening of the campaign he should 
 ain a great battle, which would render him master of the Elbe 
 nd of Berlin, and carry him to the Vistula.” This prediction was 
 ccomplished ; although with an army composed of old and picked 
 roops he might be assured that he should conquer everywhere, 
 nd at all times secure a victory. But let me not anticipate. 
 
 The night of the 13th of October presented the spectacle of 
 wo great armies, the one of which deployed its front over an 
 xtent of six leagues, embracing the horizon with its fires, while 
 iie second appeared to concentrate its forces on a small point. On 
 ither side all was activity and movement. The watch fires of 
 de two forces were not a cannon shot apart ; the sentinels of each 
 ould hear the challenge of his enemy, and it was hardly possible 
 at the patrol of one army could go his round without falling in 
 ith that of the other. 
 
 Day broke, or rather endeavoured to struggle into existence 
 irough a thick fog which obscured even the sun’s rays, and our 
 rmy was immediately under arms. Napoleon passed down the 
 nes, recommending every soldier to be prepared against the 
 Russian cavalry, which they had pictured as unconquerable. He 
 eminded them that only a year ago, at a similar season of the 
 ear, they had taken Ulm ; that the Prussian army in its turn had 
 een surrounded ; that it had lost its line of operations, and its 
 lagazines ; that at this moment it did not fight for glory, but to 
 ecure a retreat; that it sought to find a road at different points, 
 fe added, that the corps of the army that suffered it to escape, 
 , r ould lose its honour and its reputation. To this animated 
 iscourse the soldiers replied by loud cries of “ Vive VEmpereur” 
 The action was commenced by the tirailleurs, but in a short time 
 tie firing became general, and whatever confidence the enemy 
 light have had in his position, it was quickly disturbed, for the 
 'rench army advancing on the plain, commenced taking up its 
 osition in order of battle. 
 
 The Prussian army, which decided to attack us as soon as the 
 g dispersed, was soon under arms. A corps of 50,000 men on 
 e left marched to cover the defiles of the mouths of the 
 oesen, but Napoleon had foreseen their design, which he pre- 
 nted by moving up Davoust’s division. The two other Prussian 
 rps, composed of 45,000 men, threw themselves on our army, 
 it debouched on the plateau of Jena. 
 
 For two hours, the thick fog covered both armies, which gradu- 
 lly dispersing under the influence of the rays of an autumnal sun, 
 iscovered the French and Prussian forces within gunshot of 
 ich other. The enemy deployed, and his cavalry, which was very 
 ,eady and splendidly mounted, moved with rapidity and precision 
 ut if the troops were brave, they were deficient in those essentials 
 
 N 
 
134 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 which the veteran legions of France, to whom they were opposed, 
 possessed. 
 
 It was the wish of Napoleon that the first hours of the morning 
 should pass away, before we became seriously engaged, in order 
 that the troops, which were yet at some distance, should arrive 
 and take part in the battle, his army being deficient in cavalry, 
 hut the ardour of the French prevented this, many battalions 
 being engaged at the village of Hollstedt, from which the enemy 
 endeavoured to dislodge them. Lannes was ordered to move his 
 division in echelon to its support, while Soult had attacked a wood 
 on the right, and the Prussians, having made a movement with 
 their right against our left, Augereau was ordered to charge them. 
 In less than an hour the action became general, 26,000 men with 
 700 pieces of artillery sowing death on every side. 
 
 On either side, the various manoeuvres were executed with the 
 greatest precision, our troops moving without the least confusion'; 
 victory was never for one moment doubtful, Napoleon was always 
 surrounded by the Imperial Guard, and such other picked troops 
 as were necessary to execute any unforeseen movement. 
 
 Soult, who had been two hours attacking the wood, at last 
 succeeded in carrying the enemy’s position, and advanced, and 
 the same moment the Emperor learnt that the division of cavalry 
 forming the reserve had arrived, and that two divisions of Ney’s 
 corps were already in the rear of the field of battle. These were 
 immediately moved up to the front; and thus, finding himself 
 beaten on every point, the enemy commenced his retreat. For an 
 hour preparations were made for a retrograde movement, but the 
 rout soon became general, and the moment when our division of 
 dragoons and cuirassiers took part in the action, throwing them¬ 
 selves on the enemy on all sides, the Prussians turned and fled, 
 for the cavalry and infantry, unable to sustain the shock, gave way 
 at all points—in vain the infantry were formed in squares, five 
 battalions were surrounded, artillery, infantry, cavalry—all gave 
 way ! 
 
 The Prussians fled precipitately from the field, and we as hotly 
 pursued, arriving at Weimar nearly as soon as they did. On our 
 right Davoust performed prodigies, for not only did he hold his 
 own, but he absolutely obliged the main body of the enemy, who 
 had endeavoured to debouch on the side of Koesen to give way, 
 killing 12,000 men; and taking 3,000 prisoners, many standards, 
 and 100 pieces of artillery. 
 
 Great as was our success, and immense as was the loss of the 
 enemy, both would have been increased had Bernadotte, in con¬ 
 formity with his instructions, moved up by Overburg and Apolda 
 to support Davoust. Nevertheless, his sudden appearance on the 
 field, about 3 p. m., obliged the old Field Marshal Mollendorf, 
 who attempted to rally his division, and check the impetuous 
 advance of our right and centre, to retreat. This finished the 
 

 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 135 
 
 Fair, and a brilliant one it was, leaving us nothing to do but to 
 irsue our flying opponents. 
 
 Forty standards—three hundred pieces of cannon—forty thousand 
 •isoners, of whom thirty were general officers—twenty-five 
 ousand killed or wounded—immense magazines and munitions 
 war—were the fruits of this memorable day, and the glorious 
 oofs of the bravery of the French army, and the military genius 
 the Emperor. 
 
 My share of the action was trifling, being confined to one charge, 
 hen the Prussian troops began to give way. Till three o’clock 
 had been a silent spectator of the scene, moving about with my 
 rps of the guard, as the Emperor thought our services were 
 cely to be required. Ever expecting the word to “ charge,” 
 hich though it appeared constantly on his lips, did not salute 
 ir impatient ears. 
 
 At length, when the serried ranks of the Prussians were broken, 
 id the dense masses became confused, and turned and fled—• 
 'Grenadiers of the Guard—forward—charge,”—became the cry, 
 id putting our horses to their speed, we bore down on the flying 
 e, sabring and riding down all that opposed our progress. 
 Halt—form,” was the word. Again we formed for the charge 
 -again bore down on the fugitives, few asking, still fewer 
 ceiving, quarter, till the work of destruction was considered to 
 j complete, and the bugles sounded the recall. 
 
 : Among the individual acts of bravery of which I was an eye- 
 ; tness, one particularly deserves to be recorded. Our trumpeter, 
 rried away by the ardour of the pursuit, found himself sur- 
 junded by a number of Prussians. Called upon to surrender, he 
 plied by killing the foremost of his adversaries, but receiving 
 any sabre-cuts, one of which went through his trumpet as it lay 
 ion his thigh, and a ball at the same moment breaking his arm, 
 
 : gave himself up for lost, and dropped his reins, which were 
 on seized by a Prussian dragoon, who endeavoured to drag 
 m along. His presence of mind never forsook him, and watching 
 ’avourable moment, he wheeled suddenly round, and driving his 
 urs into the sides of his horse, galloped back to our ranks 
 aidst the cheers of his comrades. His courage was rewarded 
 r a trumpet of honour, which the Emperor ordered him to be 
 icorated with. 
 
 i 
 
 N 2 
 
 
 
136 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 BERLIN. 
 
 “ There may be moments when despair will creep, 
 
 Blotting its brightest thoughts, across the soul, 
 
 When o’er the past the senses cannot sleep — 
 
 The dreary past—beyond the mind’s coutroul. 
 
 Yet like the sunlight on some favour’d spot, 
 
 Gilding a space while all around seems drear; 
 
 Shall deeds like this obliterate a blot, 
 
 And what seem’d dark shall render bright and clear.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 How often, in after years, when a prisoner in the gloomy island 
 of St. Helena, wistfully gazing on the white sails which sped over 
 the ocean towards that France to which he was never destined to 
 return in life (though I trust his remains may go there), insensible 
 alike to the praise and censure of the world, from which he was 
 excluded, must the mind of Napoleon have dwelt on the passages 
 of former years, and on none with less regret than those of 1806, 
 which witnessed the memorable campaign of Prussia. How often 
 have I recalled them, together with the devotion, amounting almost 
 to idolatry, with which he was regarded by the troops he so fre¬ 
 quently led to victory. Himself “ every inch a soldier,” he knew 
 our wants and our privations; and while the strict arm of discipline 
 kept us in our places, he was the first after a great battle to care 
 for the wounded. But for him my poor brother Jaques had nveer 
 been carried alive from the field of Austerlitz; but for him many a 
 gallant fellow, Russian as well as French, who now lived to dare 
 the power of death in the battle strife, had never risen again from 
 the cold sod on which he fell ; and now the roar of artillery, and 
 the crash of charging squadrons over, his attention was again 
 directed to the wounded ; an attention which he took care always 
 to pay, regarding it as the sacred duty of every general. 
 
 On the field he released six thousand Saxons, with three hundred 
 officers of all grades, and dismissed them to their homes, first 
 exacting a declaration that they should not again bear arms against 
 France or her allies. 
 
 Pursuit of the enemy w r as carried on hotly, the object of the 
 Emperor being to prevent his rallying ; and when the King of 
 Prussia asked for an armistice of six weeks, he replied “ that it 
 was not prudent after a victory to allow the enemy to collect his 
 scattered forces.” Foiled in this, the King asked for a truce of 
 three days to allow them to bury their dead. “ Think of the 
 living,” replied Napoleon, “ and leave to us the care of interring 
 the dead ; there is no occasion for a truce for that.” It is certain 
 

 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 137 
 
 that the demand was as ridiculous as the reply was suitable ; 
 nevertheless the Prussians scattered abroad a report of an armis¬ 
 tice, and many of our generals believing it, suffered some columns 
 to pass. However, when the trick was tried upon Marshal Soult 
 by General Kalkreuth, who positively asserted the existence of the 
 armistice, the former replied “that it was impossible the Emperor 
 could have been guilty of such a folly, and that he would believe 
 it when he received official notice of it.” Kalkreuth desired to see 
 him, and an interview took place. 
 
 “ What would you, Marshal ?” said General Kalkreuth. “ The 
 Duke of Brunswick is dead, all our generals are killed, wounded, 
 or taken, the greater part of our army in retreat ; surely your 
 success is great enough. The king has asked for a suspension 
 of arms, and it is impossible but the Emperor must grant it.” 
 “Monsieur, the general,” replied Marshal Soult, “ it is not long 
 since we have acted against you, and now that you are defeated 
 you appeal to our generosity, forgetting an instant after the 
 magnanimity vve have shown towards you. After the battle of 
 i Austerlitz the Emperor granted the Russians an armistice. That 
 armistice saved their army, and now behold the unworthy manner 
 ! in which they act, burning, it is said, to meet us again, and wipe 
 I out their disgrace. Had they been equally generous as we were, 
 they would have surely appreciated the moderation we displayed 
 in the hour of victory, and left us to ourselves. What have we 
 done to provoke the unjust war you have waged against us ; a 
 war which you commenced with all the gaiete de cceur imaginable, 
 but which has been checked by the battle of Jena, which in all 
 probability will decide the campaign. Our duty is to inflict all 
 the evils upon you which we can possibly effect ; to that duty we 
 are devoted ; lay down your arms, and in that situation I will 
 await the orders of the Emperor.” 
 
 What could the Prussian reply ; foiled in his argument, beaten 
 by the force of truth in his attempt to deceive, he silently retired, 
 and immediately the French flew to arms, and hostilities were 
 recommenced, the result being his defeat. 
 
 While these things took place, Murat on his side advanced with 
 the cavalry on Erfurt, and accorded an honourable capitulation to 
 the troops which had taken refuge there, taking at the same time 
 twenty pieces of cannon. Napoleon now occupied Weimar, living 
 in the same palace which the Queen of Prussia had resided in, 
 while she precipitately fled before those whose defeat she thought 
 to have witnessed, and, with the king, narrowly escaped being 
 taken by Marshal Soult at Greusen. If this princess, by her fatal 
 influence over the counsels of Frederick, did bring misery and 
 disgrace on his kingdom and arms, still she had great claims 
 on them, sharing his reverses with firmness and constancy, and 
 cheering him in his misfortunes, never quitting his side. 
 
 Kalkreuth having retired precipitately on Magdebourg, was 
 pursued by Soult, who took eleven thousand men, thirty pieces 
 
 N 3 
 
138 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 of artillery, and more then two hundred caissons and baggage 
 waggons. This city had been named as the rallying point of 
 the Prussian army, and a corps de reserve under Prince Eugene 
 of Wurtemberg directed its march there, to which other columns 
 from the interior of Prussia were also hurrying ; but Soult’s 
 division appeared before the town with such rapidity, that these 
 different columns had not even time to throw themselves within 
 the walls. Vigorously attacked by Legrand’s division, in a sort 
 of entrenched camp, they threw down their arms; the town was 
 quickly invested, but the weakness of the immense cordon which 
 it was necessary to form, allowed the King again to escape and to 
 retire behind the Oder. Bernadotte in the meanwhile attacked 
 a reserve of twenty-five thousand men at Halle, and after an 
 obstinate engagement, succeeded in capturing five thousand, 
 twenty-five pieces of cannon, and two standards. 
 
 Lannes advanced on Dessau, but the Prince of Wurtemberg 
 destroyed the bridge and checked his advance. Nevertheless 
 three days afterwards we entered Potsdam, at the same time 
 that Davoust advanced on Berlin. The other corps of the army 
 followed by different routes, and, by concentrating, destroyed 
 more of the fragments of the Russian army. 
 
 Napoleon arrived in Potsdam, and there contemplated the simple 
 tomb which enshrouds the remains of the great Frederick. Seiz¬ 
 ing, with enthusiasm, the sword-belt and cordon of the Black 
 Eagle, which formerly adorned that illustrious monarch, he 
 exclaimed, “I had rather these than twenty millions, for I will 
 present them to the governor of the Invalides, by whom they 
 will be preserved as a memorable witness of the triumphs of the 
 grand army, and of the vengeance which it has inflicted for the 
 disasters of Rosbach.” * 
 
 On the 18th of May, 1807, the sword, &c., were translated to 
 the Hotel des Invalides, when Mons. Fontanes, President of the 
 Legislative Council, pronounced a discourse terminating in the 
 following words:— 
 
 “ In former times, when in a city, the mistress of the world, an 
 illustrious Roman had suspended on the walls of the capital the 
 spoils of the kingdom of Macedon, he was affected, even to tears, 
 at the remembrance of the exploits of Alexander the Great, and 
 of the calamities which had befallen his successors. The hero of 
 France was scarcely less affected, when, on entering the sad 
 and desert palace, which was formerly occupied with so much 
 eclat by the hero of Prussia,* he seized with a religious enthu¬ 
 siasm this sword, which he has so nobly presented to his veterans. 
 
 * Frederick the Great having won the battle of Rosbach on tho 5th of 
 November, 1757, erected a monument on the field of battle, which was 
 inscribed to the defeat of the French, but Napoleon, after the battle 
 of Jena, a battle equally celebrated as that of its predecessor, removed 
 the column, and had it taken to France. 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 139 
 
 but with a delicacy worthy of himself he desired that the arms 
 and the standards, together with the mass of trophies taken from 
 the descendants of the late king, should not traverse the place 
 where his ashes repose, further to desecrate his manes or insult 
 his memory/’ 
 
 The entry of Napoleon into Berlin was triumphant, a deputation 
 of the principal inhabitants meeting him and presenting the keys. 
 Tie, in a short time, restored order and abundance, and then, to 
 bear witness to the bravery of his troops, he addressed them in 
 a proclamation, telling them of what they had done and what 
 remained to be achieved. 
 
 I have said that the devotion evinced by the soldiers towards 
 their Emperor amounted almost to idolatry, and he truly loved 
 them, and this mutual attachment formed a community of glory, 
 
 [ which, in the hour of peril or the day of battle, did not fail to 
 operate on all generous hearts. It is true that great talents make 
 illustrious captains, but their reputation is deficient, if humanity 
 and clemency do not heighten their other brilliant qualities. 
 None more than Napoleon possessed these two virtues so worthy 
 of a throne, and of numerous examples which fell under my 
 personal knowledge I shall relate one which happened at Berlin. 
 
 The Emperor held a levee, which was attended by the whole 
 of the generals and staff officers of the army, the municipal 
 authorities, and some of the principal inhabitants of Berlin. 
 Among the rest was the Prince of Hatzfeld, who, on passing 
 out of the palace, was arrested. I was on duty, and the consterna¬ 
 tion was extreme; the officer in charge, however, was certain as to 
 his prisoner, and soon satified me that he had warrant for what 
 he had done, for letters addressed to General Hohenlohe had 
 been intercepted, letters fully confirming the accusation of having 
 while the pretended friend of France, travelled out of his line as 
 ; civil governor of Berlin, and instructed the enemy of our move¬ 
 ments. 
 
 For this offence he was to be tried by a military tribunal, by 
 which he would inevitably have been condemned to death. His 
 wife, who was the daughter of the minister Schulembourg, de¬ 
 manded an audience of the Emperor, and threw hersejf at his 
 feet, believing that the hatred which her father was known to 
 entertain towards the French was the cause of his arrest. Na¬ 
 poleon raised her from her kneeling position, and informed her 
 that certain papers, in the hand-writing of her husband, had 
 exposed the double part he was playing, and that the laws of 
 war knew no pardon for such crime. 
 
 “ Impossible, Sire,” said the Princess ; “ some enemy of my 
 unfortunate husband must have forged them to ensure his de¬ 
 struction.” 
 
 “ You know the hand-writing of your husband,” said the 
 Emperor ; “ I will make you the judge,” at the same time putting 
 a letter into her hands. 
 
140 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 The unhappy Princess, who was near her confinement, was 
 in a lamentable state of distress at thus witnessing the incon- 
 testible proof of her husband’s guilt, and again throwing herself 
 on her knees, in cries of pitiable anguish bespoke the Emperor’s 
 clemency. 
 
 Touched with her distress, the Emperor said, “ The letter you 
 hold in your hand is the sole proof of your husband’s guilt which 
 I possess; rise, Madame,” and, pointing to the fire, “ that 
 destroyed he is free.” 
 
 The Princess obeyed, and a few seconds saw every vestige of 
 the letter destroyed, restoring to the arms of an unhappy lady 
 the husband who three hours later would have been shot. 
 
 This affair quickly got wind, for the Princess related it in 
 every house she went into, and surely such magnanimity ought 
 to give the lie to the frequent assertion of contemporary writers 
 that Napoleon was a monster deficient in every virtue ; to us who 
 knew him well it did but add another leaf to that crown of immor¬ 
 tality which his conduct in the field and the cabinet was fast 
 acquiring him. 
 
 CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 PRUSSIA. 
 
 “ Hark ! the loud braying of the trumpet wakes 
 The soldier from his slumber, and he dons 
 With eager haste his vestments, and then joins 
 The must’ring squadrons. Hark ! again that sound ; 
 
 ’March ; forward ; charge.’ The vanquish’d foe give? way, 
 
 And death and carnage strew the earth around. 
 
 Again he slumbers; and awakes to see 
 Day follow day, and scenes like this arise.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 After the battle came the rewards to the victors—the naming of 
 officers to fill the vacancies occasioned by the fortune of war. 
 Davoust’s division, with the Imperial Guard, were reviewed by 
 the Emperor in person at Berlin, and a splendid field-day we 
 had; but although the guard had partaken but slightly in the 
 affray, I missed many familiar faces that would have been gladly 
 welcomed. 
 
 As Napoleon rode on the ground, surrounded by a brilliant staff, 
 every cap was raised—every tongue was loosed; loud cries of 
 “ Vive l’Empereur ! vive la France 1” burst from the ranks, making 
 the welkin ring, and waking up the echoes of the spot. Having 
 filled up the vacancies, and named the soldiers to whom deco- 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 141 
 
 rations were to be given, the Emperor desired the troops to ground 
 their arms; and, having formed the officers and sub-officers into 
 a circle, he said—“ Officers and sub-officers of the third division 
 of the army, you have covered yourselves with glory by your 
 conduct in the field of Jena—the recollection will quit me only at 
 my latest breath. The brave men who have fallen have fallen with 
 glory, and it should be the prayer of every one of us that his 
 fate may be as glorious.” 
 
 More stirring scenes demanded us, and although I would wil¬ 
 lingly have lingered in the gay city of Berlin, the call of duty 
 must be obeyed. How immutable are the decrees of fate! I 
 had been present when the First Consul dictated his mandate 
 from the vice-regal palace of the Archduke at Milan ; had helped 
 to give publicity to the proclamation dictated from the palatial 
 mansion at Munich ; I had kept guard at Vienna when Napoleon 
 occupied the palace of the successor of the Caesars; and now the 
 royal residence of Prussia was the abode of the soldier of fortune, 
 who had stepped from the ranks of the artillery to the dazzling 
 height of first magistrate of France;—pulling down and setting 
 up kings—overwhelming with his brave troops the ancient 
 monarchies of the world, and instituting new laws, dictating fresh 
 ordinances. We came like the sulphury breath of the simoom, 
 leaving death and destruction in our track; but, like the genial 
 shower which succeeds the thunder, restoring order, plenty, and 
 happiness to the land. 
 
 But we had only scotched the snake, not killed it; great as 
 had been the loss of the Prussian monarch, he was not yet 
 subdued. Though we occupied his capital, his generals still made 
 head in the provinces ; so Bernadotte left Brandenbourg for 
 Orangebourg, whither Murat had already advanced against Blucher 
 and Hohenlohe, who were obliged by this movement to fall back 
 on Mechlenbourg. Lasalle fell in with the Prussians at Zednik, 
 where, after a smart action, he succeeded in capturing three 
 hundred men of the Queen’s regiment, together with the standard, 
 embroidered by her Majesty’s own hands ; while Murat advanced 
 on Samplin and Prentzlow. General Milhaud, detached towards 
 Boitzenburg, was in danger of being turned at Vigninsdorf by the 
 grenadiers of the king, when Grouchy coming up to his support, 
 fell upon them, taking five hundred prisoners and four standards. 
 
 In the meanwhile Hohenlohe, who stood his ground at Prewtzlow, 
 was obliged to capitulate. Six thousand men—almost all infantry 
 of the Garde Royale d’elite—six regiments of cavalry, forty-five 
 standards, and sixty pieces of artillery, were the result of this 
 affair; while on the morrow six thousand men of the same corps 
 surrendered to some regiments of dragoons and chasseurs : Lannes, 
 who had advanced on Stettin with the division of light cavalry, 
 summoned the governor, who opened the gates, giving up six 
 thousand men and sixty pieces of cavalry, which defended the 
 fortress. 
 
142 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Great as were our successes—immense as were our trophies— 
 numerous as were our prisoners, Blucher had been suffered to 
 escape by a mistake which happened to General Klein at Weis- 
 sensee. Under the false pretext of an armistice, he fled with 
 six thousand men towards Rostock, where, reinforced by the 
 column of the Prince of Weimar on the bank of the Wahren, he 
 hoped to embark and gain the Baltic ; but finding himself cut off 
 from Stralsund, and hotly pursued by our cavalry and Bernadotte’s 
 corps, he threw himself into Schwerin, after having lost four thou¬ 
 sand men. Attacked at Schwerin, he resisted long enough to cover 
 his retreat on Lubeck. A sharp engagement between his cavalry 
 and our own, gave time to the Swedes who occupied the place to 
 embark and fly; while the infantry, shut up in Lubeck, showed 
 a determination to make a stand, but the redoubts which defended 
 the gates were carried at the point of the bayonet, and then, troops 
 entering the town, the streets became the scene of a hand to hand 
 conflict, and the Prussians in vain attempted to fly—the advanced 
 guard under Soult were at their heels. Broken, dispirited, they 
 fled to the bastions, and, laying down their arms, surrendered at 
 discretion. Blucher, who had sought an asylum on the frontiers 
 of Denmark, with his cavalry, was again attacked by Drouet’s 
 division, and capitulated at Schewartau. 
 
 Our life was, indeed, one of desperate fatigue, although a 
 succession of triumphs. Each day in the saddle, the trumpet 
 sounded the advance, the enemy’s corps were charged, prisoners 
 taken, sent to the rear, the men bivouacked on the field to awake 
 and re-enact the same scenes on the morrow. No courier, riding 
 post, spent more hours in the saddle than did the cavalry—no 
 recruit at a punishment drill was under arms more hours than 
 the infantry—forced marches were the order of the day, and if our 
 hands were never idle our feet were never at rest. Twenty 
 thousand prisoners, four thousand horses, an immense number 
 ofkilled and wounded, one hundred pieces of cannon, and the 
 last Prussian standard that floated in the breeze on the left bank 
 of the Oder, were the results of the reduction of Lubeck and 
 Schewartau. 
 
 While these brilliant successes crowned the efforts of that corps 
 of the army to which I was attached, extending our conquest 
 to the very shore of the Baltic, Ney, on his side, was not idle; 
 Mortier and Savory seconded his efforts, till the whole of the 
 Hanseatic towns and the ports at the mouths of the rivers of 
 Germany successively fell into our hands. 
 
 The end of the year approached—the army of the King of 
 Prussia was destroyed—his estates were summoned—and, reduced 
 to despair, he implored the generosity of the conqueror, as the 
 Emperors of Austria and Russia had done before him, and Napoleon 
 granted a suspension of arms, which took place on the 16th of 
 November, 1806, in the hope of establishing a treaty of peace. 
 This, so desirable an end, was not accomplished, for the Russians 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 143 
 
 were advancing by forced marches, and we once more assumed 
 a warlike attitude. 
 
 Our army was in position as follows :—Ney, Soult, and 
 Bernadotte occupied Berlin ; Mortier, Lannes, and Augereau 
 Hamburg, Thorn, Bromberg, and Grandentz ; Davoust with his 
 corps, and Murat with the cavalry division, Beaumont, Klein, 
 Becher, Nansouty, and Milhaud marched on Posen and Warsaw. 
 The corps under the orders of Jerome Napoleon invested all the 
 places in Silesia, and besieged Glogau, the Imperial Guard and 
 the staff remaining at Berlin, Potsdam, and Charlottenbourg, 
 while the corps of reserve coming from Bas-Rhin marched in 
 divers columns by Munster, Osnabruck, and Minden to follow the 
 movements of the grand army. 
 
 Thus may be said to have terminated the campaign of Prussia. 
 I had commenced a simple captain of cavalry, decorated with the 
 cross of the Legion of Honour, but short, sharp and decisive as it 
 had been, my advancement was as rapid. From captain I had 
 advanced to be chef d’escadron—the order of the iron crown of 
 Italy hung side by side with the cross of the legion—my brother 
 had gained a sous-lieutenancy in my corps, and everything pro¬ 
 mised well for our further advancement. 
 
 We did not much regret that, though winter with all its horrors 
 was coming on, the treaty of peace had never been concluded, and 
 prepared for the cessation of the suspension of arms, and the order 
 to advance into Prussia. A new enemy awaited us, for the Swedish 
 monarch, blind to the designs of a neighbour, who would have been 
 the first to annihilate him had the French army been routed at 
 Jena, joined the Russians ; but the prestige of success hung over 
 us, “we had,” said Napoleon, “ been successful everywhere ; from 
 the banks of the Po to those of the Oder, and what right had the 
 Russians to believe they held the balance of fate ? what gave them 
 the right to reverse its just decrees ? Were we not the soldiers 
 who conquered at Austerlitz ?” 
 
144 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 EYLAU. 
 
 “ Le braves qui, de notre cotd, sont restes au champ d’honnenr, sont 
 morts d’une mort glorieuse; c’est la mort de vrais soldats; leurs fa¬ 
 milies auront droit a notre protection et a nos bienfaits.” 
 
 Proclama tion of Buonaparte. 
 
 As Napoleon had announced in his last proclamation he ad¬ 
 vanced into Poland, and the army, animated by his presence, 
 pressed forwards to Warsaw, the capital, the head quarters being 
 at Posen. 
 
 Murat’s cavalry and Davoust’s corps having passed the Vistula, 
 took Praga, where the latter established his head quarters, Murat 
 remaining on the banks of the Bug. Ney passed the Vistula at 
 Thorn, pushing his advanced posts as far as Sharburg and the 
 surrounding villages, and falling in with a part of the Russian 
 force, which he soon compelled to retire, on which Davoust 
 passed the Bug with his whole force. 
 
 The Emperor arrived, and business began in earnest. The 
 enemy’s entrenchments at Czarnowo, on the Warta, were ordered 
 to be carried, but being defended by 15,000 men, the command 
 was not easily obeyed. Obstinate as was the resistance they were 
 at last forced to succumb, seeking safety in flight, and abandoning 
 six pieces of cannon. 
 
 Daily skirmishes occurred between the enemy and different 
 corps of the French army until the beginning of February, when 
 on the 7th of that month, on arriving at Eylau, a town of Prussia, 
 eleven leagues south of Konigsburg, we found the Russians in full 
 force, occupying a position which, only a quarter of a league 
 distant from the town, defended the plain. Marshal Soult received 
 orders to carry this plain, which he attempted to do with two 
 regiments of the line, who were received warmly; and a column 
 of cavalry, at the moment of the advance, charging the left flank 
 of one of these regiemnts, threw them into disorder, and placed 
 one half of the men hors de combat. To remedy this, Klein’s 
 dragoons, with Hautpoult’s cuirassiers, and several other regi¬ 
 ments of infantry and cavalry were ordered up, and falling upon 
 the advancing foe, mowed down w'hole ranks, throwing them into 
 disorder, which quickly arrested their progress, and the position 
 was carried, a great number of men and guns falling into our 
 hands. 
 
 Eegrand’s division bivouacked before the town, that of St. 
 Hilaire on the right; Augereau’s corps was placed on the left, 
 while that of Davoust marched to fall on Eylau and the enemy’s 
 flank, if he did not change his position. Ney was marching 
 

 A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 145 
 
 forwards with a view of passing his right flank, and the cavalry under 
 Murat were in the rear of the whole of these corps. In this 
 position the army passed the night, Napoleon in the centre of the 
 guard bivouacking on the plain. 
 
 The night was a bitterly cold one, a sharp hoar frost covering 
 the ground with glittering icicles, and chilling our very life’s- 
 blood. Seated round a watch-fire with half a dozen companions, 
 endeavouring to while away the time by smoking and drinking, 
 and ever and anon breaking into some wild chorus or baccha¬ 
 nalian song, little heeding its progress, or the events that were 
 passing around us, we had remained for two or three hours, when 
 Le Beaujolais, an officer who had lately joined, was called upon 
 to explain by what accident he had left Paris, where the whole of 
 his military career had hitherto passed. It seemed that a love 
 affair with a protege of the Empress had led to his dismissal 
 from the court, for, having had the imprudence to address himself 
 |to Josephine, she had requested his removal, and he had been 
 brdered to join the guards at Posen. 
 
 To a youth brought up amid the dissipation of the capital, the 
 fliange was anything but an agreeable one, and he was blaming 
 die Emperor for the lot that had befallen him, when he felt a 
 i.iand placed on his shoulder, and the very man stood beside him, 
 lis small bright eyes beaming full upon him, as if he would read 
 lis very soul. 
 
 “ And how long, sir,” said the Emperor, “ have you taken upon 
 /ourself to canvass the actions of your superiors ? In what cam- 
 jaigns have you joined ? At what actions have you been present 
 hat your services have been unrequited ? You complain of a want 
 |»f due reward; how have you deserved it?” 
 
 Now it was well known to us all that Le Beaujolais owed his 
 present position to family influence, and not to his own deserts. 
 Though a captain in the guard, this was his first campaign ; and 
 le had been advanced to his present grade over the heads of men 
 who had witnessed Marengo and Austerlitz. 
 
 “ Where have you been, fcoquin,” repeated Napoleon, the watch- 
 fire throwing its lurid light upon his face, now pale with rage; 
 ‘ where have you fought that you dare to murmur at the guerdon 
 or your service ? Are Rivoli, Arcole, the Pyramids, Marengo, 
 Vusterlitz, Jena, written upon your brow, or do honours tall more 
 hickly in the salon than on the battle-field ? Take this (giving 
 Sum a packet addressed to Marshal Soult), and see that your 
 onduct in the field to-morrow merits the reward of which you 
 jeem to be so covetous ; but beware ! I will check that spirit of 
 ] avilling which seems to have taken possession of thee, or worse 
 jiaay come of it.” 
 
 Le Beaujolais, not less thunderstruck by this unexpected scene 
 han we who had witnessed it, sneaked off, and soon the clattering 
 oofs of his retiring charger gave evidence that one part at least 
 f the Emperor’s mandate had been obeyed. 
 
 o 
 
 
146 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 On the 8th, at break of day, the enemy began the attack by 
 a brisk cannonade on the town and St. Hilaire’s division. Na¬ 
 poleon, with Augereau’s corps, advanced, and opened a battery 
 of forty pieces. The enemy’s troops, ranged in dense columns, 
 received the whole of the discharge, together with that of some 
 howitzers, and appeared determined to escape this murderous 
 fire by an attempt to turn our left; but the tirailleurs of Davoust’s 
 division came upon their rear, while Augereau’s division debouched 
 at the same time in columns to engage the centre. Thus hindered 
 from attacking Davoust, he hesitated, and St. Hilaire’s division 
 appearing on the right, a series of manuoevres were executed for 
 the purpose of uniting these two latter divisions with the former. 
 Hardly had these commenced, when a thick snow came on, 
 covering both armies and concealing them from each other. 
 
 This obscurity, which lasted for half an hour, caused Marshal 
 Augereau to lose his point of direction, and he moved too much to 
 the left; but at the moment the air became clear, Napoleon happily 
 perceived the mistake, and ordered Murat and Bessieres to turn 
 St. Hilaire’s divison, and fall upon the Russians—a bold ma¬ 
 noeuvre, rendered necessary by the position of our columns. The 
 enemy’s cavalry which opposed this movement were annihilated, 
 after having rallied again and again; while two lines of Russian 
 infantry shared the same fate, and gave us the victory. 
 
 Nevertheless, although the disasters of the Russians had been 
 great, our loss was considerable. Three hundred cannon had 
 vomited destruction on our ranks for at least twelve hours, and 
 the victory for a long time rendered uncertain by the mistake of 
 Augereau, was only decided when Davoust debouched on the 
 plain and fell upon the enemy. If Bernadotte had come up in time 
 to have taken part in the action, the whole Russian army must have 
 succumbed; as it was, many escaped; and we had to regret the 
 loss of several brave officers and men, among whom was General 
 Haultpoult, who fell while leading on his regiment of cuirassiers. 
 
 The enemy, completely hemmed in between Ney and Davoust, 
 and fearing to have his rear guard cut off, resolved at eight o’clock 
 in the evening on a night attack, to retake the village of Schan- 
 aditten, then occupied by one of our regiments. Several of his 
 grenadier battalions which had not been engaged advanced to take 
 the village, but being warmly received, were beaten off, and, thrown 
 into disorder, quickly retired. 
 
 On the morrow we advanced to the Prickling, hanging on the 
 enemy’s rear, who was obliged to retire behind the Pregel. He 
 left the field of battle, at Eylau, covered with dead, lost 12,000 
 prisoners, eighteen standards, more than fifty pieces of artillery, 
 with equipages in proportion, and found himself, as the conse¬ 
 quence of this bloody reverse, thrown back upwards of forty 
 leagues from the Vistula. This event allowed our harassed troops 
 some days of rest and repose. 
 
 On the 9th Napoleon personally inspected the position occupied 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 147 
 
 by each corps on the preceding day ; the country was entirely 
 covered by a thick snow, through which peered the bodies of the 
 slain, and the fragments of the battle field, every here and there 
 i patch of blood, presenting an awful contrast with the whiteness 
 )f the earth elsewhere. The spots which had witnessed the charges 
 )f the cavalry were especially marked by the number of horses, 
 lead, wounded, and abandoned, while detachments of our troops, 
 tnd large bodies of the Russian prisoners were seen employed on 
 ivery side, turning over the vast masses on this field of carnage, 
 md carrying the wounded towards the ambulances or the town. 
 
 Long lines of Russian carcasses, wounded, mutilated, dead, and 
 lying, arms and haversacks, marked the spots where each battalion 
 lad fallen ; each squadron been mown down. The dead were 
 leaped upon the dying, in the midst of caissons, burnt or broken, 
 >f guns dismounted or overthrown. 
 
 Napoleon stopped before each lot of the wounded and addressing 
 hem in their own language, promised them assistance, and offered 
 hem consolation. Many were dressed in his presence, and the 
 ihasseurs of his guard transported them on their horses, while 
 he officers of the household were desired to assist them. The 
 Russians, in place of that death which they awaited with resig- 
 ation, in accordance with the absurd prejudices which had been 
 iculcated, found a generous conqueror, and in their astonishment 
 Irostrated themselves before him, raising their stiffened limbs 
 pwards him in token of their gratitude. The consolatory regard 
 f that great man seemed to soften the horrors of death, and to 
 jiffuse around this horrible scene some scattered grains of comfort 
 nd hope. 
 
 After the battle, one of the general officers of the Emperor 
 eeing him distressed at the loss of so many of his veteran troops 
 -troops who had given him such constant proofs of their attach¬ 
 ment and their bravery—observed to him that the loss had been 
 saggerated. 
 
 “ A father who has just lost his children/’ said Napoleon, 
 
 ' does not appreciate the victory; when the heart speaks, even 
 lory is robbed of its illusion.” Nothing can be more correct or 
 lore touching than these words ; and the Emperor, who felt them 
 lore forcibly than any other man, was always greatly distressed 
 henever in the battle he saw fall around him more of his veteran 
 
 I *oops than he had feared before its commencement. 
 
 Our troops now made a retrogade movement, to wait for a season 
 tore congenial for military operations. As a thaw had rendered 
 le roads impassable, it was impossible to advance, and ten days 
 ter the battle of Eylau the army retired into winter quarters. 
 
 Bernadotte occupied Braunsberg, Fraunsberg, Elbing, and 
 reusch Holland; Soult, Liestadt and Mohrungen ; Ney concen- 
 ated his corps at Gutstadt and Heilsberg ; Davoust was at 
 lllenstein, Warterburg, Passenheim, and Ortelsburg; Lannes 
 id Massena were stationed on the Omulew and the Naren, as 
 
 o 2 
 
 I 
 
148 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 far as Ostrolenka ; while Augereau’s troops were distributed 
 among the different corps of the army; and Napoleon, with the 
 guard, established his head quarters at Osterode. 
 
 In this order the Emperor disposed his army, and awaited the 
 return of a more genial season; the disposition of the troops 
 presenting a good line of operations, free from all danger of sur¬ 
 prise, at the same time affording the necessary supplies. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 OSTERODE. 
 
 <k When passion’s early hopes and fears shall be decided things ; 
 
 When truth is found in woman’s tears, and faith in golden rings; 
 
 When the dark fates that rule our sway, instruct us where they hide 
 
 A woman that would not betray, a friend that never lied. 
 
 When every month is fair as May, the sky all bright and blue, 
 
 To-day may then be yesterday, and woman may be true.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 Notwithstanding the inactivity of the main body of the French 
 army, daily skirmishes took place at the distant outposts, but the 
 difficulties of the roads, the accumulation of frost and snow, 
 together with the severity of the weather, prevented any great 
 movement, and we fell into that inactivity at Osterode which, if 
 not the parent of evil, proved the origin of as fatal consequences, 
 for I have invariably found that during the listlessness entailed 
 by garrison duty in winter quarters, attachments, or rather those 
 liasons which are too often dignified by the name of attachments, 
 spring up “ thick as the leaves in Valambrosa.” 
 
 Our occupations were confined to those watches and necessary 
 parades which our presence in an enemy’s country rendered 
 indispensible, but the inclemency of the season prevented field- 
 days, and the mere routine of guard was easily dispensed with; 
 added to which our quarters were not the most comfortable—• 
 though by those who had braved Nature in the region of eternal 
 snows, during the passage of the St. Bernard, the comforts of a 
 barrack were unheeded. 
 
 My brother, warned perhaps by my fate, mindful of my expe¬ 
 rience, or of a less inflammable temperament than myself, had 
 never yielded himself a slave to the beau sexe, and consequently 
 had not been the victim of those indiscretions into which young 
 men on their first entering into life usually fall. It was my care 
 sedulously to watch over him, and to inculcate those lessons and 
 that information which subsequent events in the service had 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 149 
 
 impressed upon me as so necessary to his advancement, and thus 
 had many a weary hour been lightened of its dullness—many a 
 lingering watch enlivened. 
 
 Thus time sped, and our sojourn at Osterode was rendered 
 more pleasant by the good luck of getting into the house of a 
 citizen who was what is called “ well to do in the world; and 
 thus pleasantly matters might have gone on, but for an event which 
 I am about to relate. 
 
 Attached to the Chasseurs of the Guard in the capacity of 
 suttling woman was Christine Legrot, whose husband, Antoine 
 Legrot, had fallen at Marengo, leaving her, with an only child, 
 to the mercy of the wide world and the fortune of war. Little 
 Annette was an universal favourite; and as she advanced to 
 womanhood, not few and far between were the soft speeches 
 poured into her ear by the gay youngsters of the different corps ; 
 and yet, though her manners were free—free as the license of a 
 camp and her situation allowed, still no breath of reproach had 
 sullied her fair fame—she had as yet passed through the fiery 
 ordeal untainted. 
 
 In the grenadiers of the Guard was Augustin Noel, a sub¬ 
 officer, who was said to be the last representative of a family 
 I which had seen better days ; if this were the fact, no one would 
 i have believed it on seeing him, for assuredly nature had not 
 shown much regard for his external appearance, having bestowed 
 i upon him a coarse and forbidding exterior, and an absolutely ugly 
 , countenance. Dirty and untidy in his person, the disgrace and 
 ridicule of his company, Augustin seemed to pursue the even 
 tenor of his way, and had made the different campaigns without 
 aspiring to a higher grade than that which he acquired at Marengo. 
 I had known him for some time, having been on guard with him 
 frequently. Forbidding as was the external man, his heart seemed 
 as sensible to the softer emotions as that of the handsomest fellow 
 in the army, and, strange to say, Annette became the object of 
 his passion. 
 
 The noise of this attachment was bruited abroad, and the subject 
 of it most unmercifully roasted by the youngsters ; still he per¬ 
 severed, and surprising as it may appear, that a young woman, 
 adorned with all the graces of youth and beauty, should marry 
 a man who, in point of years, was much more suitable as a 
 helpmate for her mother, it actually took place; and shortly 
 before the battle of Jena they were united; but what means were 
 used to induce two such incongruous beings to plight their faith 
 to each other was a mystery, though rumour occasionally whispered 
 that the mother had been detected by Noel in some peccadillo, 
 from which nothing but the sacrifice of her daughter’s hand could 
 rescue her. Some such overwhelming influence must have 
 operated on the mind of Annette to induce one so young, so 
 i gay and beautiful, to link her fate with that of a man so many 
 years her senior—one who was ugly, ignorant, and morose. 
 
 o 3 
 
 
150 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Though a change had come over her manners, and the gay 
 and lively girl had sobered into the sedateness of married life— 
 though her face had lost its freshness, her cheeks the roses, her 
 eye the brightness that charmed all who knew her, Annette never 
 complained, but continued to serve the mess to which her mother 
 was attached, if not with her former readiness and pleasure, at 
 least with every appearance of content; and although many tales 
 of her attachments were occasionally noised abroad, her conduct 
 as a wife was irreproachable. At times, however, when her brute 
 of a husband came home in a worse temper than usual, the big 
 tear would silently steal down her cheek, and her manner become 
 sad and distrait , yet word of complaint never passed her lips, and 
 after a desperate effort at composure, her mind seemed to recover 
 its wonted firmness. 
 
 She was a general favourite, and oftentimes after the fatigues 
 and dangers of the day, the mess provided by Annette welcomed 
 the survivors, and warmed their hearts towards the young being 
 whose lot seemed cast so differently to what it should have been. 
 
 And thus the time passed away, Christine becoming more fat 
 and immoveable, Augustin more morose and unkind, Annette 
 more careless, till at last the flatteries of our sex, and her lonely 
 condition, exerted their baneful influence upon her, and she became 
 a wicked, wilful, malicious coquette, yet though nothing tangible 
 had been proved against her, dark whispers of secret meetings, 
 and stealthy assignations, began to dim her fair fame. 
 
 Jaques had long been one of the crowd of idlers who had 
 basked in the sunshine of her smiles, and had for some time 
 suspected the author of these rumours, who, himself a disappointed 
 suitor for her favours, had threatened her with exposure unless 
 she consented to give him a meeting, and this, from fear for the 
 result, she was silly enough to do. Having overheard this ap¬ 
 pointment, my brother determined to be an unseen witness of it, 
 and, concealing himself, was pretty soon convinced that however 
 presumptuous the wishes of Dupont may have been, they had no 
 chance of being gratified. The brute tried force, and a scream 
 soon bringing Jaques to her assistance, the ruffian fled ; when 
 thoroughly convinced of her innocence, he lectured her for her 
 imprudence, and saw her home. 
 
 “Ah ! lieutenant,” she exclaimed, as together they threaded 
 the dark and narrow street of Osterode, “ you little know the 
 persecution that I have endured from that man. Fool that I was 
 to listen to his vows, brainless idiot to suppose that one like him 
 could have any affection for me, I ought never to have given him 
 the meeting ; a meeting which but for your timely assistance 
 would have rendered me the scorn of every cafe and cabaret to 
 which the wretch can get admittance. How shall I ever repay your 
 kindness in thus rescuing an innocent but imprudent girl from 
 what would have been worse than death.” 
 
 “ But Annette,” said Jaques, “ you ought to be aware that an 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 151 
 
 act perfectly innocent in itself may wear the appearance of guilt, 
 quite as plainly as if the crime had been committed ; why then 
 give him room to talk by affording him this interview ?” 
 
 “ Alas, you know not the influence he possesses over me. To 
 fear, not love, was it accorded, but it shall be the last.” 
 
 Poor Jaques, thus suddenly become the confidant of a young and 
 lovely woman, was soon sensible of the peril of his position. I had 
 marked his frequent visits to her home, and, exerting my influence, 
 persuaded him to absent himself. For a few days they did not 
 meet, till a casual rencontre in the street, in which she reproached 
 him for his unkindness, again induced him to return, fancying that 
 he might enjoy her society as formerly, without the danger of 
 becoming attached to her. Again his visits were renewed ; again 
 he and Annette met even more often than before, and my absence 
 for a short time having removed his monitor, he was seldom long 
 from her presence, till like the insect fluttering round the flame, 
 he approached too near, and he gave himself up to her entirely. 
 Need I say he loved—ardently, devotedly, passionately—and yet 
 so frequently had he watched her flirtations with others, that he 
 thought he could bear them when addressed to himself, and when 
 the unwelcome truth forced itself upon him, he was in despair. 
 
 No spark of jealousy had inflamed the mind of Augustin ; 
 (possessed of her as his wife, he abandoned her to whatsoever 
 society she thought fit, passing most of his time, when not on 
 duty, in a cabaret hard by, caring little for her presence, or the 
 comforts of her home, till at length the usual sequel to such 
 ■attachments ensued, and Annette fell ; and now rumour, with 
 her hundred tongues, became more busy than before, but so well 
 had they arranged their assignations, that no party was privy to 
 j,hem, and though Christine suspected her, Augustin still was 
 silent, and if the breath of reproach did rest upon her, there was 
 many a fine fellow in the camp ready to wash out the blot in the 
 Dlood of the utterer. 
 
 It was Jaques’s first passion—intense, absorbing, consuming—• 
 idle food on which he lived, the air he breathed; and when the 
 spring approached, and returning vegetation gave us notice that 
 .ve must soon be stiring, and that there was every probability that 
 ;hey must separate, Jaques urged her to abandon her husband, 
 ind fly with him. She had appeared devoted to him, and listened 
 satiently at first, seeming to approve the proposal, but latterly it 
 ippeared more distasteful to her, added to which, a gay cornet 
 )f dragoons had seemed to find favour in her sight; and Jaques, 
 ivhose attachment remained undiminished, was occasionally re- 
 ninded that his presence was de t.rop. During the early period 
 if their acquaintance, he had forced upon her a few trifling presents 
 which she had accepted with reluctance ; now, what ever was 
 iffered, was received with cordiality, nor did she scruple to wear 
 n his presence the ca.deo.ux of his rival. Still, at times, as if the 
 eeling were only glossed over, not obliterated, a portion of her 
 
152 
 
 SCENES IN THE LITE OF 
 
 wonted warmth returned—she rallied Jaques on his jealousy, as 
 if she, who had vowed to love but him, could ever forsake him 
 for another ; and he, poor fool, cajoled by her wiles, shut his eyes 
 and ears to the evidence of his own senses. The truth was, that 
 Annette was incapable of a firm and lasting attachment; but to a 
 devoted mind nothing can give such pain and uneasiness as the 
 belief that the being on whom its affections have been lavished is 
 unworthy of them. Jacques had not yet learned the unwelcome 
 truth, though it was gradually forcing itself upon him—yet was 
 he unwilling to acknowledge it. 
 
 The dragoons were ordered to move, and, the morning they 
 departed, Annette was absent from her home. In vain Jaques 
 sought her in her accustomed haunts—the too damning fact at 
 last became apparent—she was gone! and gone with the man 
 whose attachment and attentions she had encouraged, while she 
 professed to ridicule them. And this was woman’s love! and 
 thus was another chapter added to the dark history I had learnt. 
 
 Bright days beamed anew for us. Dantzic was invested, and 
 opened its gates to General Lefebvre, affording us supplies in 
 abundance. The Russians approached the Passage, a little river 
 of which we occupied the right bank. Many skirmishes took 
 place prior to the 5th of June, on which day we advanced in 
 columns by different directions on Heilsberg, situate on the Alle, 
 twelve leagues south of Konigsberg, where the enemy’s force was 
 united in a camp, the position of which he had rendered impreg¬ 
 nable by entrenchments and numerous batteries, to establish which 
 had caused him four months uninterrupted labour. 
 
 On the evening of the 10th, we approached the Russian lines, 
 and our light troops made a slight attack on the advanced works, 
 but intimidated, no doubt, by the audacity of the French, and 
 the preliminary movements of Napoleon, the enemy declined the 
 battle. 
 
 On the 11th, the Emperor, in person, carefully examined the 
 position of the Russian General, Beningsen, and decided on his 
 movements and the order of battle. 
 
 The Russians would inevitably be beaten if they accepted the 
 combat, or forced to abandon their camp, before it was totally 
 surrounded if they refused. This, to us, was equal to the gain 
 of a battle; so, in the same night, Soult with his division, the 
 division of the Spanish cuirassiers, Latour’s dragoons, and several 
 brigades of light cavalry, commenced operations on the right, 
 supported by the young guard, while the corps of Lannes advanced 
 to cut off the route to Lansberg. In the morning Napoleon placed 
 his other corps of cavalry and infantry, with the intention to give 
 battle at four o’clock in the afternoon, ordering Davoust to place 
 his left on the Jlasse-allee, to cut off the route to Eylau. This 
 movement executed, the whole army formed a kind of circle round 
 the Russians, while the first corps, under the command of Victor, 
 continued its march to complete the blockade. 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 155 
 
 CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 FRIEDLAND. 
 
 What awful heaps are piled upon the plain, 
 
 Warriors by thousands in their hearts’ blood lying; 
 
 Again has death been busy, and again 
 
 The field is covered with the dead and dping. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 General Beningsen having discovered that the various manoeu¬ 
 vres of the French were made with a view to force him to an 
 e pg a g emen L which he wished to avoid, or else to hem him in 
 his formidable position, prudently retired in the night, and passed 
 to the right bank of the Alle ; yet, able as this movement was, it 
 only retarded his defeat two days. 
 
 On the 12th of June, the Emperor having received reports 
 of the position of his force, fixed his head quarters at Eylau. The 
 troops were ordered to march immediately; Murat, Soult, and 
 Davoust being instructed to advance on Konigsberg to cut off 
 the enemy’s retreat, while, at the head of the corps of Ney, 
 Lannes, Mortier, Victor, and the Guard, he himself moved on 
 Friedland, a town situated about ten leagues to the south east 
 of Konigsberg. 
 
 On the 14th, at three o’clock in the morning, the enemy de¬ 
 bouched on the bridge of Friedland. A heavy cannonade com¬ 
 menced, when Napoleon exclaimed, “ It is a day of good fortune, 
 it is the anniversary of Marengo.” 
 
 Lannes and Mortier were first engaged, and were supported by 
 Grouchy’s dragoons, and Nansouty’s cuirassiers. Divers move¬ 
 ments, and different changes were made, but the enemy was 
 unable to carry the village of Posthenem. Believing that he was 
 attacked by a division of the army too small to cause him serious 
 inquietude, the Russian general continued his march, for the pur¬ 
 pose of investing Konigsberg. 
 
 At five o’clock in the afternoon, the different corps of the army 
 having moved into place—Ney on the right, Lannes in the centre, 
 and Mortier on the left, the reserve consisting of the Guard and 
 Victor’s division ; Grouchy’s cavalry supported the left, Latour 
 Maubourg’s dragoons the right, those of Lahousaye and the 
 Saxon cuirassiers drawn up behind the centre. This order of 
 battle was magnificent though simple, and might serve as an 
 : example at all times and in all places ; it presented a centre, right 
 and left wings, and a reserve, supported by divisions of cavalry 
 find numerous batteries, and thus displayed on a field of battle, 
 whether it remain fixed or deploys, is extended or concentrated, 
 an army is invincible. 
 
156 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 The enemy developed all his force, extending his left to 
 Friedland, and his right to the extent of a league on the village of 
 Mullin and Denn. 
 
 Napoleon soon reconnoitered his position, exposing himself to 
 the greatest dangers; he knew perfectly well that the general in 
 chief ought rarely to run such risk, but such was the strength of 
 his heroic valour, that he often advanced where men less timid 
 dared not to go for fear of being accused of fool-hardiness. He 
 resolved to carry the village of Friedland at once, by executing on 
 the instant a change of front. The right moved up first, and the 
 attack commenced by the flank of that wing, during which, the left 
 formed the pivot for the execution of the movement, keeping the 
 enemy in check, a manoeuvre always imposing and advantageous, 
 whether the columns arrest or pursue their march, because it is 
 executed without confusion. 
 
 At half-past five, Ney, with his accustomed audacity, threw 
 himself into the thick of the battle, a discharge of twenty pieces 
 of cannon being the signal for his advance. At the same mo¬ 
 ment, Marchand’s division took the direction of the village, and 
 advanced with fixed bayonets, while Buisson’s division supported 
 it on the left. When the enemy perceived that Ney had quitted 
 the wood, where his right was at the commencement in position, 
 he advanced a column of cavalry, and a multitude of Cossacks, 
 but Latour Maubourg’s dragoons were formed at a gallop on the 
 right, and repulsed the charge. 
 
 Victor had orders to place, far in advance of his centre, a 
 battery of thirty pieces, which opened a murderous fire on the 
 advancing columns of the Russians, who made different demon¬ 
 strations to create a diversion, but they were in vain. Ney 
 marched at the head of his division, and was attacked on the 
 right by sundry columns of the Russian infantry, but these were 
 received on the point of the bayonet, and driven back on the 
 Alle, where numbers of them met a watery grave. At the same 
 time his left advanced to the ravine which surrounds Friedland, 
 where the Russian imperial guard, cavalry as well as infantry, 
 lay concealed, these, springing up, advanced with great gallantry, 
 creating a momentary confusion on the left, but Dupont’s divi¬ 
 sion in reserve moved up, and meeting the advancing guard, 
 gave them a considerable check. 
 
 In vain the enemy, by his reserve and centre, endeavoured to 
 preserve Friedland ; the town was carried at the point of the 
 bayonet, the streets being literally choked by the slain. 
 
 At this moment the centre, under Lannes, was attacked. The 
 effort which the enemy had made on our extreme right had been 
 unsuccessful ; he, therefore, tried a similar one on the centre, 
 with the same result. 
 
 The charges of Russian infantry and cavalry failed to arrest the 
 advance of our columns, which Napoleon accompanied and en¬ 
 couraged ; all the bravery—all the constancy of the Russians 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 157 
 
 proved of no avail—they could not stop our career, and fell nobly 
 before the advancing points of our bayonets. 
 
 Marshal Mortier, who during the whole of the day had kept 
 in check the enemy’s right, now advanced, supported by the 
 fusiliers of the guard under General Savary, and completed the 
 discomfiture of the Russians, who in this affair lost 20,000 men 
 killed, and a great number in our hands as prisoners; twenty 
 generals, eighty pieces of cannon, a vast quantity of caissons, of 
 standards, and baggage ; the Russian cavalry especially lost an 
 immense number of men and horses. 
 
 The retreat of the enemy on the Niemen resembled the most 
 complete rout; at each step we received prisoners, caissons, arms, 
 and baggage. On the 5th of June, the enemy, mistaking our 
 inactivity, attacked us in our cantonments ; by the 14th we had 
 conquered at Gutstadt, Heilsberg, and Friedland. In a campaign 
 of ten days we had taken one hundred and twenty pieces of 
 cannon, seventeen standards, killed, wounded, or taken prisoners 
 60,000 Russians ; stripped the army of the enemy of all its 
 magazines, its hospitals, its ambulances ; taken Konigsberg, with 
 three hundred vessels found in the port, charged with every kind 
 of munition of war, and 160,000 stand of arms, which had been 
 sent by England to place in the hands of our enemies. 
 
 From the banks of the Vistula we had arrived with the rapidity 
 of the eagle at those of the Niemen ; and as at Austerlitz we 
 had celebrated the anniversary of the coronation, so at Friedland 
 we celebrated the anniversary of the battle of Marengo. 
 
 The battle of Friedland had indeed elevated the French army to 
 the very pinnacle of glory ; it had besides the happy effect of 
 affording to an enemy, beaten, dispirited, and without hope, a 
 sample of the conqueror’s generosity. Overtures of peace were 
 made and accepted. A raft established on the Niemen was the 
 theatre of the first interview between Napoleon, Alexander, and 
 ' Frederick William. The French army assembled on the banks 
 of the river, piled its arms, and contemplated in silence the im- 
 > posing spectacle of its general and emperor giving peace and 
 repose to Europe. 
 
 On the 19th of June, Napoleon arrived at Tilsit; on the 7th of 
 July peace was proclaimed, and the Emperor prepared to return 
 I to France. In the meanwhile, as the course of events has some- 
 ■ what outstripped my narrative, I shall return to the morrow 
 of the battle of Friedland, the 15th of June, 1807. 
 
 
 
158 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 THE HOSPITAL. 
 
 “ How hard the task to heal the bleeding heart, 
 
 To bid the still recurring thought depart, 
 
 Tame the fierce grief and stem the rising sigh, 
 
 And curb rebellious passion with reply ; 
 
 Calmly to dwell on all that pleased before, 
 
 And yet to know that all shall please no more.” 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 One of the most distinguished of your poets has said— 
 
 “ The cold in clime are cold in blood, 
 
 Their love can scarce deserve the name 
 
 but with Jaques, true child of the south, it was different. Since 
 the discovery of Annette’s intimacy with the dragoon, with whom 
 she subsequently eloped, he had become an altered man. His 
 love had been at times o’ermastered by a more intense feeling—• 
 jealousy—a feeling miserable enough when entertained without 
 a cause, but ten times more miserable when cherished with some 
 reason. Frequent altercations had taken place between the 
 lovers;—in vain Annette rallied him on his suspicions—she 
 sometimes succeeded in lulling, though she never eradicated them ; 
 and then some secret whisper, some new familiarity, roused them 
 up again, and they blazed as fiercely as ever. Naturally warm¬ 
 hearted, devoted to his first passion with an intensity which must 
 be seen to be appreciated, Jaques had missed no opportunity of 
 showing her his fidelity ; and when the blow came that convinced 
 him of her worthlessness—when the blight fell upon his heart, its 
 utter prostration was apparent. 
 
 There were times when, wandering forth alone, he felt oppressed 
 by the sensation that he was entering into a new existence, an 
 existence of penance for his faults, that he was endued with a 
 capacity to suffer, but not one to enjoy ; in fact, he began to doubt 
 whether the transient state of this world could ever be one of 
 happiness,—or whether happiness were not an unsubstantial 
 creation of the mind, ever apparently within reach but not to be 
 attained—a baseless vision, beautiful to the mind’s eye when 
 clothed in the garments of anticipation, but vanishing on its 
 approach like a sweet dream, from which it were misery to awaken. 
 A change would then come over him, and, awaking as it were from 
 the thrall that oppressed him, he seemed to overcome the repug¬ 
 nance to exertion which he felt stealing over him, benumbing 
 his faculties, and devoting himself with more than common ardour 
 to his duties, enjoyed at least for the moment a temporary relief. 
 
1 SOLDIER OF t’ORLONE. 
 
 13d 
 
 On the morning after the battle of Friedland, I was ordered to 
 lommand the fatigue party, whose duty it was to turn over the 
 leaps of mutilated bodies, and to rescue from impending death 
 such of our wounded troops as lay upon the field. Jaques, (who 
 iince the departure of his beloved had fought more like a fiend 
 han one of earth’s denizens, and courted death in every charge, 
 seeming to bear a charmed life which protected him from the shot 
 if the Russians, no matter how murderous the fire,) formed one of 
 ;he party, and amongst the earlier victims rescued from the embrace 
 if the destroyer, was the husband of the very woman who had 
 Detrayed him—Augustin Noel. A ball had carried away his right 
 eg, while his left arm hung powerless by his side, rendered so by 
 the sabre of a Cossack, and in this state, insensible from loss of 
 blood and the anguish of his wounds, we placed him on the 
 imbulance and conveyed him to the hospital. 
 
 Notwithstanding his attachment, between him and Jaques there 
 had always been a good understanding, the latter believing him 
 blind to what was going on, a deception he favoured by not 
 appearing to notice it. Although amputation was quickly per¬ 
 formed, consciousness returned only to assure him that he was 
 sinking rapidly, and when Jaques visited the hospital he declared 
 his belief that a few hours only remained to him, and requested 
 his attention to the following recital, which my brother repeated 
 to me immediately on his return to our quarters. 
 
 “ Lieutenant,” said Augustin, speaking with great difficulty, 
 for nature was fast giving way, and his articulation occasionally 
 became low and indistinct, “ I feel that my hours are numbered, 
 and am anxious to employ the short space that may be allotted to 
 me in endeavouring to obtain for my misguided wife a friend that 
 may rescue her from her degraded state after I am no more. I 
 know your love for her, passionate and devoted as it is, and 
 though she has forfeited all claim to your affection, you will 
 not refuse her your pity. Say, then, mon officier, will you befriend 
 the unhappy girl should you ever have the opportunity ?” Moved 
 by his vehemence, Jaques gave the required promise and he 
 resumed. 
 
 “ No doubt you, in common with the other idlers in the camp, 
 have felt surprise that one so young and beautiful should have 
 iiinked her fate with mine. No doubt conjectures have been rife 
 land rumour busy to account for so strange a proceeding. Listen, 
 land I will explain. Christine, her mother, and myself were 
 children together, and our intimacy continued after she married; 
 for though in circumstances we were upon a par, in birth I consi¬ 
 dered her my inferior, and when I declined her as a wife she 
 refused to become my mistress. We did not quarrel, and the 
 'amp, which levels all distinctions of birth, soon made Antoine 
 and I good friends, and when he was detained on guard I consoled 
 jhhe pretty Christine without once awakening the jealousy of her 
 [husband. He fell as a Frenchman should do, fell nobly on the 
 
 p 
 
160 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 field of battle, and the widow and her daughter were left without 
 any protection save such as I felt disposed to afford them. I did 
 not love the mother well enough now to tie myself to her, and 
 yet in her distress I could not abandon her. Christine soon 
 became careless of her good name, and was accused of robbing 
 the mess by one who had long persecuted Annette with disho¬ 
 nourable proposals. Her daughter’s honour was demanded as 
 the price of his secresy, and as the galleys would have been the 
 alternative Christine entertained the proposal. Becoming ac¬ 
 quainted with the transaction, I determined to frustrate so infamous 
 a scheme, for I loved Annette as my own child, and she enter¬ 
 tained a filial affection for me ; and knowing how she recoiled from 
 the bargain, T offered to become her husband, asuring her at the 
 same time that I would never claim a husband’s privileges. Even 
 death sooner than dishonour; and as she saw no other means 
 of escape we were married. Thus armed, I challenged her perse¬ 
 cutor, and he fell by my hand, and at this awful sacrifice was 
 Christine’s secret preserved. Heaven is my witness that through 
 the whole affair 1 had but one motive, the preservation of her who 
 was dear to me as my own child. I religiously adhered to the 
 condition—was her husband in name only ; and if after an evening 
 spent in drinking I became sour and morose, it was with Christine, 
 and not her daughter. True, that occasionally the silent tear rolled 
 down her cheek, and looks of unspeakable anguish told of the 
 conflict within ; the babbling world ascribed them to my unkind¬ 
 ness ; she knew me better, and appreciated my forbearance. 
 Knowing that in all probability her unoccupied heart would find 
 some one of her own age with whom it might fall in love, I never 
 felt annoyed at the admiration she excited, hoping that some 
 worthy man would be her choice, and at my decease would make 
 her happy. You know, lieutenant,” said Augustin with a ghastly 
 smile, “ the lease of life for a grenadier of the guard is never a 
 very long one; most of my companions have fallen around me, 
 and I have long felt convinced my turn was not far distant. When 
 I found that you were her choice, I shut my eyes to the probable 
 consequences of your intimacy, rather rejoicing than otherwise 
 that now she would have a protector, and I might depart in peace. 
 
 “I thought not of her fall, because I anticipated you would 
 repair the fault, but fate decided otherwise ; yet am I convinced 
 that she loved you with a passion as intense as her nature was 
 capable of entertaining. A longer experience in this world will 
 convince you that most women are imbued with a spirit of 
 coquetry, and will often flirt with one man, though their hearts 
 be wholly devoted to another; and thus has many a constant 
 heart been wounded—many a cherished affection been sacrificed, 
 but why they should thus trifle with their own happiness I cannot 
 discover. That Annette loved you I am convinced—that she cared 
 little for Carlin, equally so—and yet she abandoned you, while he 
 will use her as children do their toys, and when he is tired of her 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 161 
 
 cast her forth upon the world. Let me then entreat you to seek 
 the unhappy girl and rescue her from a fate worse than death. 
 I do not ask you to do more for her than husband the little provi¬ 
 sion I have made which will keep her from want. I do not ask 
 you to outrage your wounded feelings by having further intercourse 
 with her, but endeavour through your brother to put her into some 
 situation where she may be comfortable if not happy. Do this for 
 the love you once bore her, and the blessings of a dying man shall 
 ever rest upon you.” 
 
 Though I have given this in a connected form, Augustin could 
 only utter it in disjointed sentences, and towards the conclusion 
 frequent applications to a goblet of wine became necessary, after 
 which he rallied a little and resumed his narrative. Death, 
 however, had marked him for his own, and the sands of life 
 were few. After a few ineffectual attempts to address Jaques 
 again, he turned in his narrow bed, his head dropped, fell back, 
 [and all was still—the husband of Annette had met the fate he 
 ( coveted. 
 
 The task imposed on Jaques was anything but a pleasant one, 
 for independent of the tie which formerly existed between them, 
 and which Annette had so rudely and unceremoniously dissolved, 
 he had a natural antipathy to an interference which he felt could 
 be productive of no good, and might cause additional misery. 
 However, the division of the army to which Carlin was attached 
 was ordered to the south, while the guard prepared to accompany 
 (the Emperor to Paris, and thus any danger of a chance encounter 
 |was removed. Since the death of Augustin, Christine had followed 
 her daughter, and I persuaded Jaques to let subsequent events 
 take their chance, leaving all to time. 
 
 Napoleon now returned to France, and made his entry into Paris 
 covered with a glory more brilliant than ever. He inspired all 
 hearts with admiration, and his soul worthily appreciating the 
 virtues of the French whom he cherished, responded to their love 
 by an eulogy at once simple and true, “ You are a great and good 
 people.” 
 
 Jaques and I took up our old quarters, and were soon immersed 
 in the gaieties and dissipations of the capital. Though Annette’s 
 name was never mentioned, there were times when a dark shade 
 passed across his forehead, marring the pleasure of the scenes in 
 which he was engaged, and showing how intense the effort by 
 which it was suppressed. I had gone through the ordeal and was 
 free, but I could well feel for him over whom I had watched with 
 i father’s care. 
 
 p 2 
 
$CLn£s in the life of 
 
 Wl 
 
 CHAP. XL. 
 
 THE ESTAMINET. 
 
 What aching heart enjoys the beauties of the morn ? 
 
 When all suffused with tears, what view enchants the eye? 
 
 Better—’twere better far in early youth to die, 
 
 Than wake the good man’s pity, or feel the proud man’s scorn. 
 
 But it were better far than this of each to shun the cause, 
 
 To give to babbling slander no room for aught to say; 
 
 To pass through life right tranquilly without the world’s applause— 
 
 As well as free from censure —and unnoticed pass away. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 Immediately after the conclusion of the campaign in Poland, 
 Napoleon, with the hope of dazzling the world by a false light, 
 and adding to the splendours of the throne he had mounted, as if 
 the glory of the conqueror, or the love of a nation were not enough, 
 created princes, dukes, counts, and barons, out of number, for¬ 
 getting that the imperishable names of Hoche, Kleber, Dessaix, 
 Massena, Jourdan, were of more value than all the titles in the 
 world. It may be true that the dukes of Rivoli, Montebello, and 
 Dantzic—the princes of Essling, Wagram, and Moscow, recalled 
 the defeats of the Austrians, the Prussians, and the Russians, 
 defeats which can never he effaced from the page of history. 
 
 Time’s waves still rolled silently on eternity’s vast shore, weeks 
 and months elapsed, and still found us doing duty in the capital, 
 gaudy satellites of that gilded sun, the court, reflecting back the 
 borrowed lustre of its splendour. My commission gave me plenty 
 of employment about the Tuileries, and this introduced me into 
 the best society, to which my brother might also have had access, 
 but that the recesses of his own chamber, and silent communings 
 with his own heart seemed more to his taste. 
 
 Weeks and months sped on, bringing still the same unvarying 
 round of duty, each day so like its predecessor, that they were 
 only remembered in one conglomerate mass, or if by accident one 
 gayer than another did occur, so trifling were the incidents they 
 were soon blotted from the mind. Still onward moved the 
 destroying scythe of time, slowly—silently, but surely—yet were 
 his marks concealed by the brilliant display in Paris. 
 
 In October, 1808, Napoleon started for Spain, intending to join 
 his brother Joseph, who had been elevated to the throne of that 
 kingdom, at Madrid. Jaques and I, grievously to our disappoint¬ 
 ment, were left behind in attendance on the court, but our regiment 
 having been employed in all the late campaigns, had suffered 
 severely, and needed re-organization ; this duty was entrusted to 
 me with the grade of colonel. It was an arduous task, requiring 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 163 
 
 me to be many hours daily in the saddle, but I was determined 
 to render them second to none, and shall hereafter describe a 
 scene which will prove my confidence was not unfounded. 
 
 On returning one evening from the palace to our quarters, 
 Jaques and 1 feeling ourselves in need of some refreshment 
 entered an Estaminet in the Rue St. Honore, not far from the 
 Palais Royal. The room was crowded with people of both sexes, 
 by far the greater portion of the men wearing the uniform of 
 different regiments doing duty in Paris, all eager to hear the last 
 news from Spain, the latest having led us to believe that Napoleon 
 was upon the track of Sir John Moore, and that the English, 
 under the latter, must either stand and fight, or make a precipitate 
 retreat. Expectation was on tiptoe, and as we sipped our coffee, 
 it was ludicrous to contemplate the various groups, who, with 
 outstretched arms, and eyes intently fixed, were endeavouring to 
 devour the words of the readers of the Moniteur, or the Gazette , 
 as they fell from their lips, while ever and anon, muttered curses 
 on Les Anglais were uttered, whenever there appeared anything 
 f which led them to anticipate that the much-hated foe would escape 
 ! the fate to which they were one and all destined. 
 
 The evening glided away, and night approached, still we lingered, 
 for the novelty of the scene diverted us, when we were disturbed 
 i by an altercation which proceeded from the farther end of the 
 f room, and a momentary lull taking place in the babel of sounds 
 j by which our ears were assailed, Jaques became convinced that the 
 i accents were those of Annette. A sudden revulsion took pos- 
 f session of his whole frame, and approaching the spot, at the same 
 . time cautiously concealing himself in the crowd, he managed to 
 i get on the other side of the partition which separated the boxes 
 unperceived, and became a hearer of the scene that followed. 
 
 He was not deceived. The inmates of the box were Annette, 
 Carlin, and another woman, and the mutual flirtations of the two 
 latter had roused the ire of their companion. High words ensued, 
 till at last Annette burst out in a strain of loud invective, lamenting 
 that she had ever quitted the side of one whose sabretache Carlin 
 was unworthy to carry. “ If he were here,” she added, “ you 
 would not dare to treat me thus, for fallen, worthless, degraded 
 as I am, I should receive protection from him.” 
 
 “ Peace, minion,” roared the half drunken dragoon, “ would 
 to Heaven your favourite were here ! What was he but a raw 
 beardless boy, unworthy the notice of a soldier of the Empire ? 
 I would serve him as I do you—thus,” and the room re-echoed 
 with the sound of a blow which the ruffian had inflicted on his 
 victim. 
 
 To spring from his seat and draw his sword, ere I could restrain 
 him, confronting Carlin almost at the moment that he uttered the 
 words, was the ready action of my brother ; and scarcely had the 
 sound of the blow' died away upon the ear, than in a voice hoarse 
 | with passion he exclaimed, “ Behold I am here ! Come forth. 
 
164 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 ruffian, or by the glory of him whom I serve I will stab you where 
 you sit.” 
 
 Now, though half muddled in drink, Carlin was too perfect a 
 master of his weapon to be encountered by a man in the mood 
 Jaques then was ; I therefore interfered, declaring I would cut 
 down the first man who dared to advance a step. It was, however, 
 of no avail, Jaques, more like a madman than anything else, threw 
 himself upon his opponent, and a space being cleared at the end 
 of the room, to it they went, Annette falling in a swoon on the 
 seat. No heed, however, was taken of her ; few knew the cause 
 of quarrel, fewer still cared to enquire, all, with anxious looks, 
 contemplating the scene, satisfied that amusement was in store 
 for them, and regarding the event as unconcernedly as if it were a 
 practice-bout in the salle-d’armes. 
 
 The first few passes convinced Jaques that he had an opponent 
 of no common skill, and that if he had any hope of success, it 
 was derived from the known confusion of vision which oppresses 
 persons under the influence of wine. At each extraordinary lunge 
 or parry, loud shouts would rend the air, till at length Carlin, 
 desirous of putting an end to the matter, made a feint, well known 
 in the Italian schools, but imperfectly understood in the French. 
 Here my careful attention to my brother stood him in good need; 
 he had often practised and was thoroughly master of the manoeuvre, 
 which, being exercised with one who was believed to be a novice, 
 was not over carefully done. In an instant Jaques saw his 
 advantage, and availing himself of it, before Carlin could recover 
 his position, his adversary’s sword had entered his heart, the 
 crimson tide of life fast flowing from the wound. He stood 
 transfixed for a moment, and then fell weltering in his gore, while 
 shrieks the most awful that ever saluted my ear made the room 
 re-echo again. To hurry my brother into the street, and thence 
 into the first fiacre I could meet (directing him to see the regimental 
 surgeon and get his wound dressed, for Carlin’s weapon had 
 passed through the fleshy part of his arm) was but the work of a 
 moment, and I returned to the wounded man, whose tide of life 
 was fast ebbing away through a wound which had penetrated his 
 chest, destroying one of the larger vessels. Though faint and 
 sinking from the loss of blood, his countenance wore a demoniac 
 scowl, and raising himself with difficulty on his elbow, he said, 
 “ 'Fell your brother my eternal curse shall rest upon him for this 
 deed; bid him take the minion I have spurned, and would have 
 abandoned ere the dawn of another day; may he be happy with 
 her if he can.” At every word he uttered with an effort, the 
 crimson flood increased, and in a few minutes, still continuing to 
 mutter the most dreadful imprecations, he fell back and expired. 
 
 Desiring his remains to be conveyed to his lodgings, I offered 
 my services to his victim, then drowned in tears. Hers was not 
 the grief of bereaved affection—not the anguish of having lost all 
 it most prized in life—no, it was remorse that weighed upon 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 165 
 
 her frame, crushing her energies to the dust. On our way to her 
 lodgings she related the following particulars :— 
 
 “ What could have induced me to leave your brother for the 
 brute who has just paid the merited penalty for his crimes I cannot 
 imagine. Coquetry began what ended in my ruin; for, though 
 I was satisfied with the devotion and fidelity of Jaques, I was 
 insane enough to feel pleasure in his jealousy, and, with the view 
 of increasing this pleasure, gave liberties to Carlin which I loathed 
 myself for bestowing. Still he haunted my footsteps, morning, 
 noon and night was by my side, and as each succeeding visit 
 seemed to add fresh fuel to the flame that burned in the breast 
 of your brother, I often encouraged them, though they were in 
 reality distasteful to me, while increasing coolness on my part 
 served to widen the breach between us. Oh ! what a fool is that 
 woman who, satisfied with the devotion of a true heart, trifles 
 with the happiness which she holds within her grasp, till at last 
 1 it slips away, and she only becomes aware of the treasure she 
 possessed when it is no longer her own. That I loved Jaques 
 I fondly, truly, with all a woman’s idolatry, and all a woman’s 
 dependence, heaven is my witness, and often, when in the solitude 
 of my own chamber I reflected upon the withering pain 1 was 
 inflicting on one 1 loved so well—the uneasiness I was causing 
 to a generous heart so thoroughly mine—I have resolved to do 
 better for the future. The morrow came, and with it came my 
 two lovers—the same scenes were re-enacted, until at last, stung 
 by reproaches, which, though not merited, annoyed me, in a weak 
 moment I yielded to Carlin’s proposal and eloped. Four and 
 foventy hours had not elapsed ere I repented—four and twenty 
 days had not passed away before the brute’s passion had begun to 
 fade, and I found how wretched was the exchange. I reproached 
 i him, and he tauntingly bade me return; but as my mother had 
 j joined us, and still contrived to amass money, and his dissipated 
 habits could not be supported by his own resources, he endured 
 . me for the sake of the gold she gave him, though his conduct 
 ! was that of a monster. We went to the south, and early in the 
 year my mother fell a victim to her love of gain, and died; 
 i while Carlin, having lost her assistance, had recourse to bad prac- 
 ; tices, and being detected in an attempt to cheat at play, was or- 
 j dered to quit the army and return to Paris. 
 
 “ He would have abandoned me then, but that the order desired 
 I should accompany him, and we had not arrived many days 
 when it became evident that he could not support himself without 
 my assistance. Spare me the recital of the scenes through which 
 I have passed ; ask me not to repeat the loathsome proposals I 
 | have been pestered with; to number up the blows I have^re- 
 I ceived because I have recoiled with horror and disgust. The 
 | tale would harrow up your soul. To-morrow, aye, to-morrow, if 
 it come, I will resume this subject, but this night you must leave 
 me to myself. Come again to-morrow, and till then farewell.” 
 
166 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Poor Annette—for her the morrow never dawned, that night 
 she died—died by her own hand. 
 
 Poor Annette, unable to bear the altered state of her fortunes 
 after they had become known to those who used to be her friends, 
 had put a period to her existence, but before we had become aware 
 of the fact, Jaques had resolved on throwing up his commission, 
 and returning to spend his days in peace amid the scenes of his 
 youth. 
 
 Under all the circumstances, this was perhaps the wisest course 
 for him to pursue. Still a slave to the passion that had over¬ 
 mastered his reason, he could not banish her image from his heart, 
 and it w r as better to avoid than come in contact with her. He 
 started early in the morning, and years elapsed ere the news of 
 the melancholy end of her he had held so dear was communicated 
 to him, and even then so powerful w r as memory that he was 
 affected to tears. 
 
 I lost no time in seeking the Minister of War, and explaining 
 to him the full particulars, receiving in exchange permission for 
 my brother to absent himself for a year. He never, however, 
 returned to the service of France, but remained buried in obscurity 
 on the paternal estate till the revolutionary troubles in Piedmont, 
 in 1820 , drew him forth. Joining the popular side, he was shot 
 in the streets of Genoa, and thus perished as brave and fine a 
 fellow as ever led a charge or mounted a breach ; one who was 
 a victim to that passion which has destroyed many a wiser and 
 a better man. 
 
 CHAP. XLI. 
 
 ECKMULH. 
 
 “ Now, shield with shield, with helmet helmet clos’d, 
 
 To armour armour, lance to lance oppos’d, 
 
 Host against host, the shadowy squadrons drew; 
 
 The sounding darts in iron tempests flew. 
 
 Victors and vanquish’d join promiscuous cries, 
 
 And thrilling shouts and dying groans arise; 
 
 With streaming blood the slipp’ry fields are dy’d, 
 
 And slaughtered heroes swell the dreadful tide.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The year 1808 had passed away—an eventful year in the history 
 of the world. To me it had produced little good commensurate 
 to the loss I sustained, for it had robbed me of the society of a 
 brother to whom I had been fondly attached. My regiment, 
 however, had gone on famously; and when, on the return of 
 Napoleon from Madrid, we were inspected on the Champ deMars, 
 we received from his own lips the most flattering commendations. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 167 
 
 I confess I was proud of my fine fellows, and though in losing 
 my brother I had parted with one on whose zeal and attention to 
 the service I could most implicitly rely, still, as I rode at the head 
 of the regiment, with the crosses of the Legion and the iron crown 
 of Italy hanging on my breast-plate, I would not have exchanged 
 situations with any monarch on earth. I knew my men were 
 perfect; and as Napoleon, with a brilliant staff, slowly rode down 
 our ranks, turning occasionally to make a passing remark to 
 one of those whose daring acts had won a title, I felt that many 
 there, like myself, had commenced as soldiers of fortune, and 
 risen from the ranks to be the favourite generals of the first 
 soldier in the world: high-vaulting ambition held out the same 
 guerdon to me, and I resolved to obtain it or perish in the attempt. 
 
 The Austrian Emperor was making preparations for war, al¬ 
 though his minister at the Court of the Tuileries continued to 
 pour into the ear of the Emperor assurances of his master’s 
 friendship. He was not, however, deceived by his protestations, 
 and remonstrated with the Court of Vienna, even offering to be 
 j guided by the mediation of the Emperor of Russia. 
 
 Futile proposal; it was declined. The Austrian had already 
 made up his mind, and war became necessary. 
 
 Orders were now issued that such portion of the Guard as 
 was serving in Spain, sundry regiments in Paris, and other troops 
 then on the march to reinforce the army in the south, should 
 turn their steps towards Germany, and at Ratisbon they were 
 united to the division of the army of the Rhine that had re¬ 
 mained behind, together with the troops of the Confederation. 
 Napoleon himself went to Donawerth, which was the head 
 quarters of the army, and on the 17th of April, the day of his 
 arrival, addressed his first proclamation to the troops. 
 
 Napoleon conceived the happy project to act as it were in a 
 manner directly the reverse of that of Prince Charles, and to 
 concentrate his force as much as possible, at the same time 
 isolating the corps of the enemy. He determined to advance 
 i rapidly on Vienna, to effect a junction with the armies of Italy 
 and Dalmatia, and this determination inspired serious fears in the 
 heart of the Archduke Ferdinand, who advanced into Poland against 
 Generals Poniatowski and Dambrowski, then in position on the 
 Vistula. The plan was admirable, and its execution promised the 
 most brilliant success. 
 
 A commander who neglects to avail himself of any favourable 
 incident when it does occur, rarely finds a second opportunity, 
 besides which he cannot profit by the ardour of liis troops, their 
 good opinion, or the weakness of the enemy. It is well known 
 that French troops will achieve wonders when they begin the 
 action—the first advantage generally assures them of success for 
 the rest of the campaign; and as Napoleon knew better than any 
 1 one the dispositions of the men he had so often led to victory, 
 - he determined to make account of the inaction of Prince Charles, 
 
168 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 who, before the arrival of the Emperor, thought he should be able 
 to prevent the union of the different divisions of our army, and 
 beat them in detail. He appeared the more certain of success, 
 because Berthier and Uavoust, who had been in command during 
 the absence of the Emperor, had made dispositions unworthy the 
 reputation of good generals. This conduct had given a totally 
 different appearance to the commencement of hostilities, and its 
 influence on the progress of the campaign was incalculable. 
 
 The 19th of April was the first day we came to blows, at 
 Psaffen-Hoffen and at Tann, where the Austrians met consi¬ 
 derable loss; and immediately after these two affairs, measures 
 were taken to attack and destroy the corps of the Archduke Louis 
 and General Hiller, numbering together 60,000 men. The morrow 
 we advanced to Abensberg, and Marshal Davoust received orders to 
 hold in check Generals Hohenzollern, Rosenberg, and Lichtestein, 
 while Napoleon, with the corps of Lannes, the Bavarians and 
 Wirtembergers, attacked Prince Louis and Hiller, and cut off the 
 enemy’s communications by Massena, who was ordered to advance 
 towards Freying, and from thence to the rear of the Austrians. 
 
 With his usual courage and sagacity, Napoleon determined on 
 this occasion to lead the attack. Assured of the devotion of the 
 French, he had his doubts about the Bavarians and Wirtem¬ 
 bergers, and as he had a large number of them in the army, he 
 began by flattering their military pride, and his presence in the 
 midst of them inflamed their courage, rendering them only inferior 
 to some of our veteran troops. In this he followed the example 
 of that great master of the art of war, Hannibal, and with equal 
 success. He assembled around him the officers of the allied 
 troops, was prodigal of his commendations and praise, and di¬ 
 rected them to execute such movements as he knew were suited to 
 their particular character. Thus, these troops advanced on the 
 enemy with great resolution, uttering loud cries of “ Vive l’Em- 
 pereur Napoleon!” 
 
 The assault was so like many others in which I had been en¬ 
 gaged, that I will not stop to describe it, suffice it to say, that 
 the result, in less than an hour, was, that the Austrians were 
 repulsed, and lost eight standards, twelve pieces of cannon, and, 
 besides a number of killed and wounded, 18,000 prisoners. 
 
 The result of this great success was, that the flanks and maga¬ 
 zines of the enemy were exposed. At day-break Napoleon marched 
 on Landshut, which Massena turned, and thus all obstacles were 
 surmounted, the position, the bridge—although set on fire—and 
 the town were carried. The enemy abandoned his magazines, his 
 hospitals, thirty pieces of cannon, six hundred caissons filled with 
 munitions of war, three thousand baggage waggons, three pontine 
 bridges, and nine thousand prisoners. 
 
 Prince Charles, master of the Danube and of Ratisbon, had united 
 Eckmulh, a village situate between Landshut and Ratisbon, a 
 force of a hundred and ten thousand men. On the 22nd at 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 169 
 
 daybreak, Napoleon marched with the corps of Marshals Massena 
 and Lannes, the division of Wirtembergers, and the cuirassiers 
 of the Generals Nansouty and St. Sulpice ; at two p.m. he 
 arrived in front of the Austrians, and Lannes commenced the 
 action by a movement on the left, while Lefebvre, Davoust, and 
 Montbrun’s light cavalry, who had held in check the corps of 
 Rosenberg, Hohenzollern, and Lichtenstein, debouched. 
 
 The Archduke, attacked on all points at the same time, and 
 his left extended in consequence of the rapid combinations of 
 Napoleon, was obliged to retreat precipitately, leaving a large 
 portion of his artillery, all his wounded, fifteen standards, and 
 twenty thousand prisoners behind. My regiment had merely 
 manoeuvred in the field, and the word was now passed, “ Cuiras¬ 
 siers of the guard, move up, prepare to charge.” It was our first 
 appearance as it w T ere on the field of battle, for though troops 
 and detachments had partaken of a few skirmishes, the regiment 
 as a whole had never been engaged. The eagle eye of Napoleon 
 ran from rank to rank, as sitting immoveably on their horses, their 
 features stern and rigid, each hand grasping a sabre, the men 
 returned glance for glance, assuring him that they could be de¬ 
 pended on. “ Steady, men,” said the Emperor, “remember you 
 are not on the Champ de Mars, and let your first charge prove 
 the soundness of my reliance on you/’—“ Colonel Gazzola,” he 
 continued, “ you will charge the Austrian rear guard, and advancing 
 to the walls of Ratisbon, support the division of Marshal Lannes. 
 March! trot!” waving his hand, we were soon in motion, and 
 coming up with a regiment of Austrian cavalry then covering the 
 retreat, we bore down all opposition, capturing the regimental 
 standard, together with several officers and men. The pursuit 
 was continued till daybreak, even to the walls of the city, and in 
 this pursuit our cavalry made many charges, all of which were 
 eminently successful. 
 
 Marshal Lannes formed his troops in order of battle a short 
 distance from the town, which was defended by six regiments, 
 charged to maintain their ground till night, so as to protect the 
 rear of the retreating army. Ratisbon was surrounded by a low 
 wall, a ditch, and counterscarp, and presented little resistance. 
 Immediately on their arrival, the French began the attack ; the 
 daring Lannes, instructed that a breach existed between the two 
 gates, put himself at the head of his grenadiers, and descending 
 into the fosse under a heavy fire of musketry from the Austrians, 
 mounted the breach, penetrated into the town, and throwing 
 open the Straubing gate, admitted a part of his corps. These 
 soon gained the bridge, cutting off the retreat of the garrison, who, 
 to the number of eight hundred men, laid down their arms. 
 
 In five days Napoleon, with that rapidity his extraordinary 
 talents, and clear view, more bold and penetrating'than that of an 
 ! eagle, conduced to, destroyed every project of the enemy. In 
 five days he beat the corps of Prince Louis and General Hiller, 
 
170 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 cut off at Landshut the Austrian centre of communication with 
 their principal magazines and artillery, and defeated Prince Charles, 
 at Eckmulh, in a pitched battle. 
 
 On the 24th 'he thanked the army in one of his Celebrated 
 orders of the day. 
 
 Napoleon, who scores of times had been in danger of losing 
 his life in battle, and who since he made war had never been 
 wounded, was struck by a ball in the right foot before Ratisbon, 
 during a conversation he held with Marshal Duroc. Any other 
 prince than himself would have been vain of this wound, and 
 Europe would have been filled with the noise of the event. To 
 Napoleon it was a matter of small attention, he did not even 
 afford time to his chief surgeon, Ivan, to dress it, but started 
 off at a gallop, regardless of the observations made upon it, to 
 discover what it was that impeded the advance of Lannes. 
 
 Displaying so perfect an abnegation of self, can you wonder at 
 his being admired and cherished by his brave soldiers ? Never¬ 
 theless they grumbled at his exposing himself so often. “ What 
 would you, my friends,” was his reply, “ is it not necessary that 
 I should partake of your dangers and your fatigues ?” 
 
 The different corps were in movement ; Davoust pursued the 
 Archduke Charles, who retired towards Bohemia, by Wald- 
 munchen and Cham, his communications with the Inn and Vienna 
 being cut off; Massena marched on Passau, by Straubing ; 
 Napoleon, with Lannes, advanced by Mulhdorf; the Bavarians 
 advanced on Saltzbourg, while Bessieres pursued the troops of 
 Hiller escaped from Landshut, in the direction of the Inn. 
 
 Massena passed the Inn at Schandnig, after having rendered 
 himself master of Passau; Napoleon and the advanced guard 
 entered Burckhausen; the bridge of Saltza was re-established. 
 The corps of Oudinot occupied Ried ; those of Lannes and 
 Bessieres, Wells ; while Lefebvre took Kufstein and Radstadt on 
 the Ens, the routes which led to the north of Italy through the 
 Tyrol. 
 
A. SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 171 
 
 CHAP. XLII 
 
 ESSLING. 
 
 Oh ! eagles of the battle rise ! 
 
 The hope of Gwynedd wakes ! 
 
 It is your banner in the skies, 
 
 Thro’ each dark cloud which breaks, 
 
 And mantles with triumphal dyes 
 Your thousand hills and lakes ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Matters now assumed a serious appearance, for the divisions 
 of Lannes and Massena, uniting at Sieg-Harts-Kirchen, marched 
 on the Austrian capital, where Napoleon himself arrived on the 
 110th of May. It was defended by the Archduke Maximilian and 
 sixteen thousand troops of the line and landvvehrs, and although 
 the Faubourgs, which contained two-thirds of the population, 
 I were not fortified, and surrendered without assistance, the advanced 
 (guard, under Oudinot, having approached the esplanade that 
 (separates the Faubourgs from the city, were saluted with a heavy 
 [fire from the ramparts, which committed great havoc amongst 
 [them, and forced them to retire. 
 
 I was ordered to take a flag of truce, and to summon the town; 
 but instead of obtaining that respect and attention which the nature 
 of the duty I had undertaken ought to command, I was received 
 with evident marks of distrust, and in a few minutes saluted with 
 an attack. Calling out to the Austrians by whom I was surrounded 
 to respect the sacred office I was filling, the only reply was an 
 attempt to hustle and throw me down. I therefore made the 
 best of my way whence I came, and, returning to the Emperor, 
 reported what had taken place. 
 
 “ Eh bien !” was the short reply, “ if they do not know the 
 usages of civilised warfare, they must be taught; still we will not 
 lose our tempers; let them violate the rights of war; I will not 
 imitate so bad an example.” So, summoning a staff officer, he 
 directed his secretary to write to the Archduke, begging him to 
 spare the miseries which must be necessarily entailed upon the 
 Icity if he were forced to lay siege to it. To this the Archduke 
 replied by a heavy fire from the batteries; and Napoleon, re¬ 
 duced to the dire necessity of bombarding Vienna, withdrew behind 
 that arm of the Danube which separates the promenade called 
 r the Prater” from the Faubourgs. A little edifice on the left 
 bank was occupied by the Voltigeurs, for the purpose of protecting 
 the troops employed in the erection of a bridge, which he deter- 
 jmined to throw over the river at this point. The French army 
 [formed a circle around the ramparts, the left extending to the 
 
 a 
 
172 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Danube as far as Dobling, tbe right at Simring, and the centre in 
 the environs of Schoenbrunn, a country seat of the Emperor of 
 Austria. For the erection of a battery of howitzers, the same spot 
 was chosen as was occupied by the Turks in 1683. 
 
 The fire of this battery against Vienna commenced at nine o’clock 
 in the evening. Eighteen hundred discharges took place in a very 
 short time. Many hotels and large edifices in the interior of the 
 city were soon enveloped in flames. Great was the consternation 
 amongst the inhabitants, who found themselves crowded into a 
 space much too small for their numbers. A flag of truce was 
 despatched from them to say that the young Archduchess, Maria 
 Louisa, she who afterwards became Empress of the French, was 
 stricken with the small-pox, which had prevented her accompanying 
 her father and family, and that her apartment in the palace was 
 exposed to our fire; in consequence of which the Emperor, who 
 declared that he warred not against women, ordered the direction 
 of the fire to be changed. 
 
 Convinced of the inutility of farther resistance, the Archduke 
 evacuated the town with the troops of the line, and on the 12th, 
 at day-break. General O’Reilly sent an officer to the advanced 
 posts to demand a cessation of hostilities, and to state that a depu¬ 
 tation of the principal inhabitants were about to pay their respects 
 to the Emperor. A short time after this deputation arrived at 
 Schoenbrunn, and were ushered into his presence, and informed 
 that the same capitulation which he had afforded them in 1805 
 should be given on this occasion. The articles were signed that 
 afternoon, and on the morrow Oudinot’s corps entered the town, 
 making the garrison prisoners of war. 
 
 “ In one month after the enemy had passed the Inn, on the 
 same day at the same hour we had entered Vienna. The princes 
 of Austria had abandoned the capital, not as men of honour who 
 had been beaten by circumstances, but as fugitives who had met 
 their reward. In flying from Vienna, their adieus to the inha¬ 
 bitants were fire and sword. Like Medea, they had destroyed their 
 own offspring with their own hands.”* 
 
 The corps of Marshals Massena, Lannes, and Bessieres were 
 cantoned in the environs of Vienna, while the Imperial Guard 
 occupied the palace of Schoenbrunn, where the Emperor fixed his 
 head-quarters. Here he passed the troops in review, as soon as 
 they arrived, distributing rewards to such as had distinguished 
 themselves since the opening of the campaign, and ordering pre¬ 
 parations to be made for the passage of the Danube. 
 
 Officers who had acquired an insight into military matters by 
 the study of the operations of our best generals, and especially such 
 as admired the tactics of Napoleon, no doubt remembered that this 
 great master of the art of war, in place of pursuing in person the 
 fugitive corps of the enemy after the battle of Eckmulh, took 
 
 * Proclamation of Napoleon. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 173 
 
 another direction. Nevertheless, though some believed that he 
 had committed a false step, others applauded it, for by so doing 
 he rendered himself master of the enemy’s line of operations. 
 If Napoleon did commit a fault, which I am slow to admit, it was 
 not appreciated by the Austrian generals; and who shall decide 
 that he could have done better had he acted otherwise ? He must 
 have been his superior in genius, and where could he be found ? 
 
 In following the Archduke Charles into Bohemia with all his 
 force, Napoleon would have afforded time and opportunity to the 
 Austrian Emperor to have levied fresh troops, which, once 
 organised, might have prevented our advance on Vienna; for our 
 men, harassed with fatigue and badly supplied with provisions, 
 which the Austrians took care to destroy in their retreat, would 
 have been ill able to sustain an attack from fresh troops. In truth 
 they had carried off their materiel, though they were obliged to 
 destroy it, but had preserved their troops; and it is with troops 
 rather than with guns and equipages that war is carried on and 
 
 I triumphs are achieved. Prince Charles, without doubt, thought 
 that Napoleon would follow in his track, and that in this case the 
 capital was safe; but he deceived himself. His adversary was too 
 experienced to amuse himself with movements by which nothing 
 could be gained, and when he became master of the Danube he 
 jcould do as he liked with the capital, which soon became the 
 (centre of operations. 
 
 In charging Davoust with the pursuit of the enemy, and himself 
 rapidly advancing on Vienna, Napoleon attained a desirable end, 
 iwhich rendered his junction with the army of Italy much easier, at 
 the same time that it paralysed the efforts of his opponents. We 
 cannot too much admire these well-planned movements, made day 
 by day, according to circumstances; relieving Italy, opening to 
 us, without defence, the barriers of the Inn, Saltza, and Traun, 
 with the whole of the enemy’s magazines ; Vienna surprised, the 
 {militia and the landwehr disorganized, terminating in the defeat of 
 the corps of Louis and Hiller, and striking a fatal blow on the 
 brilliant renown hitherto accorded to the Archduke Charles. It 
 is well known that the greatest misfortune that can happen to an 
 {army is to lose the reputation of its general, a loss which infallibly 
 destroys the confidence of the troops, which soon become de¬ 
 moralised, and are most easily conquered. It appears to me that 
 the Archduke committed a great fault in abandoning the Danube; 
 for had he fortified Ratisbon and Lintz, which were the keys, and 
 concentrated his troops on that river, before the arrival of the 
 Emperor, he might have avoided any serious engagement, covered 
 Vienna, and so manoeuvred as to prevent the union of the army 
 of Italy with that of Napoleon. 
 
 On the 18 th of May, we were in position as follows :—The corps 
 of Massena, Lannes, the Grenadier Guards of Oudinot, and the 
 Imperial Guard, in Vienna ; part of Davoust’s corps was divided 
 I between that city and St. Polten ; the Saxons and Wirteinbergers, 
 
 q 2 
 
174 
 
 SCENES IN EhE LIFE OF 
 
 under Bernadotte, at Lintz, ready to advance on the capital ; the 
 Bavarians, commanded by Lefebvre, at Saltzbourg and Innspruck. 
 
 Prince Charles, having made a long detour, arrived at the foot of 
 Bisamberg, on the 16th of June, and having rallied his forces, 
 and collected the scattered remains of Hiller’s division, deployed 
 in two lines on the plain of Marckfeld ; his centre was placed 
 behind Gerardsdorf, his right extended towards Stannersdorf, his 
 left on Wagram, about three leagues distance from Vienna, while 
 the whole of his cavalry was in reserve behind his centre. 
 
 Napoleon, having visited the different points where it was 
 proposed to establish bridges for the passage of the Danube, chose 
 the island of Lobau, about a league and a half below Vienna, in 
 front of the village of Debendorf. At this spot the river divides 
 into three branches. The bridges finished, the Emperor passed 
 over, and reconnoitered the position on the opposite bank, and 
 being followed by the corps of Massena, Lannes, and Bessieres, 
 formed them as they arrived. The left of the army was at Gross 
 Aspern,the centre at Essling, and the right opposite Stannersdorf. 
 
 At four in the evening of the 21st, the enemy attempted to drive 
 our advanced guard into the river, but were repulsed by Massena. 
 In the meanwhile, Lannes defended the village of Essling, and 
 Marshal Bessieres with the light cavalry, and Espagne’s division 
 of cuirassiers, covered the plain and protected Enzersdorf. The 
 affair was warm, for the Archduke put in motion two hundred 
 pieces of artillery, and deployed nearly a hundred thousand men. 
 
 Espagne’s heavy cavalry behaved nobly, charging many squares, 
 and carrying off forty guns, but their success was dearly bought, 
 for General Espagne, an officer of great merit, was struck by a 
 ball, and died nobly in the midst of his men. 
 
 During the night, Oudinot’s corps, that of St. Hilaire, part of 
 the guard, three brigades of cavalry, and a train of artillery, passed 
 the bridge and came up with the other troops, and at four in the 
 morning of the 22nd, Massena put his men under arms, and was 
 soon engaged. The enemy made many desperate but ineffectual 
 attempts to retake the village, but Massena, profiting by a 
 favourable movement, kept them in check. 
 
 As the flanks of Prince Charles were very far apart, Napoleon 
 determined to endeavour to force his centre, and Lannes was 
 quickly leading the attack, having Oudinot on his left, St. Hilare 
 in the centre, and Boudet on the right. In one moment all was 
 changed, Bessieres executing several beautiful charges, which 
 were attended with the most brilliant success. 
 
 Matters were in this state when Napoleon received the news 
 that a sudden rise of the Danube had put afloat a vast number 
 of large trees and rafts, which had been cut and left on the banks 
 of the river during the taking of Vienna, and that these had 
 destroyed the bridge which connected the right bank with the 
 Island of Lobau. All the parks of artillery in reserve, together 
 with a large portion of the heavy cavalry, and Davoust’s division. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 175 
 
 were thus cut off and left on the wrong side of the river, and this 
 misfortune decided the Emperor to arrest the movement in advance. 
 He ordered Lannes to guard the field which he had acquired, and 
 to take position, the left being supported by a curtain which covered 
 Massena, and the right at Essling. Perhaps it would have been 
 better to have continued the battle, regardless of what was passing 
 in the rear, and this temerity would no doubt have been crowned 
 with success. 
 
 The enemy was in full retreat when he learnt the destruction of 
 the bridge; the relaxation of our fire, and the movement to con¬ 
 centrate the army, confirmed the report of the terrible accident; in 
 an instant he rallied, the regiments reformed, the whole of the 
 artillery was quickly in line, and the most astonishing efforts were 
 made, from nine o’clock in the morning till seven in the evening, 
 to annihilate the French army. The intrepidity of our soldiers— 
 the well-planned dispositions—the sang-froid of Napoleon—eight 
 times snatched from the hands of the Austrian the triumph he 
 thought to obtain, and at night he retired to the position from 
 i which he had advanced in the morning. 
 
 Their loss was great, for besides twelve thousand men killed and 
 wounded, we took many prisoners, but if ours was less numerous, 
 
 ’■ it was more cruel. France had to regret two of the bravest of her 
 sons, Lannes was mortally wounded, as was St. Hilaire, and the 
 | loss of the illustrious marshal was equivalent to a defeat. 
 
 In this affair the Emperor preserved his presence of mind and 
 rare courage, until assured of the safety and success of the brave 
 troops who were placed between the enemy and the river; but 
 when he was informed of the accident to Lannes, his courage 
 gave way, and his eyes became filled with tears. “ It has hap- 
 : pened,” said he, when they carried near to him the body of the 
 i dying Marshal, “ that on this day my heart has received a blow so 
 ' severe, that I must abandon for other cares those of my army.” 
 
 It was in the arms of Napoleon that Lannes recovered from his 
 fainting fit, and casting his arms round his neck, he exclaimed— 
 
 ; “ In one hour you will have lost him who dies with the glory and 
 ! the conviction of having been, and of being, your best friend.” 
 i He was truly a noble soldier, and merited the glorious name of the 
 : “ Bravest of the brave.” 
 
 
176 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XLIII. 
 
 THE PASSAGE OF THE DANUBE. 
 
 “ Darkness was on the earth, the thunder roared, 
 
 Wild raged the storm—the rain in torrents poured; 
 
 The columns move, and now th’ artillery’s sound 
 Mocks at high heaven, while showers of balls abound. 
 
 Still onward marches each devoted band, the cry 
 Is ‘ forward,’ they must conquer or must die.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 On the 25th of June the army repassed into the island of Lobau* 
 and there took up a position which was fortified. We worked 
 unceasingly at the re-establishment of the bridges. Bernadotte’s 
 corps arrived at Vienna, and the army of Italy, under the orders of 
 Prince Eugene, having been united to, and forming now the 
 right wing of the grand army, was ordered to continue the pursuit 
 of the Archduke John in Hungary. The army of Dalmatia, also 
 under Massena, joined the grand army, and formed its extreme 
 right, under the orders of Eugene; and thus matters stood when 
 we prepared for the passage of the Danube. 
 
 This river, perhaps one of the most rapid in the world, and 
 nearly 400 toises wide, was crossed by a bridge of sixteen arches, 
 erected in twenty days, under the direction of General Bertrand. 
 Over this three carriages might pass abreast. A second bridge of 
 piles, eight feet wider, was established, for the passage of infantry 
 only, and a third of boats, completed the means by which we 
 could pass the river in many columns at once, and these were 
 protected against injury from fire-vessels or other combustible 
 machines by stockades of piles, constructed in different directions 
 between the islands. These works were again defended by a tete 
 du pont of sixteen hundred toises, formed by palisaded redoubts, 
 strengthened and surrounded by moats, filled with water. The 
 island of Lobau, thus rendered a stronghold, was a depot for the 
 magazines, and a hundred pieces of artillery of large calibre, and 
 twenty howitzers, were placed in battery opposite Essling. On the 
 farther branch of the Danube was a bridge erected by Massena, 
 and this bridge was covered by the works which had been erected 
 for defending our first passage. 
 
 Napoleon having united the greater part of the divisions of the 
 army, decided to carry them over the river, to debouch on the 
 Austrian army, and give battle. The position of the French at 
 Vienna was a very splendid one; they had in their grasp all the 
 right bank of the Danube, Austria, a greater part of Hungary, 
 and their supplies were abundant; but it would not do to remain 
 quiet while the Austrians, separated by a canal of four hundred 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 177 
 
 toises, were to be reached by means within our power. This 
 would have been an assurance of the truth of the reports which 
 the enemy industriously circulated in his own and the neighbouring 
 countries, and have removed all doubts of the results of the 
 battle of Essling—in fact, have given rise to a suspicion that 
 existed of an equal force in two armies so differently constituted 
 —the one stimulated, and in a measure rendered more powerful, 
 by frequent successes, the other, on the contrary, depressed by 
 great reverses. 
 
 All the reports which prevailed at our head-quarters relative 
 to the Austrian army, agreed that it was very strong ; that it had 
 lately been augmented by the addition of considerable reserves ; 
 by recruits from Hungary and Moravia ; by the whole of the 
 landwehrs of the provinces ; that forced requisitions had been 
 everywhere made to remount the cavalry; in fact, that the 
 strength of its artillery had been tripled by immense levies of 
 carriages and horses. 
 
 To render all these chances more favourable, the Archduke 
 Charles, who had extended his right to Gross Aspern, and his 
 left to Enzersdorf, had covered the little town of Essling, Aspern, 
 and the intervals which separated them, with redoubts, furnished 
 with more than one hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, in position, 
 drawn from the principal fortresses which yet remained in the 
 hands of the Austrian government. 
 
 It appeared inconceivable that Napoleon, with his thorough 
 knowledge of the art of war, should determine to attack works 
 so strongly defended, supported as these were by an army of two 
 hundred thousand troops of the line, militia and irregulars,and by 
 an artillery of from eight to nine hundred pieces. It appeared 
 more desirable to establish bridges some leagues lower down the 
 river, and thus to prevent the advantages of a field of battle which 
 the enemy had prepared with care, and knew perfectly. But on 
 the other hand it was impossible to foresee all the means which it 
 would be necessary to employ to obviate such accidents as had 
 already failed to occasion the ruin of our army, and to prevent the 
 destruction of the bridges recently constructed. 
 
 The situation of the French between these two difficulties had 
 not escaped Prince Charles, who, besides, was aware that his own 
 army, too numerous and ill-disciplined for regular manoeuvres, 
 could not take the offensive without exposing itself to certain 
 defeat, but he thought also that it would be very difficult, if not 
 impossible, to drive him from his position. In maintaining it he 
 covered Bohemia, Moravia, and a part of Hungary, but it could 
 not protect Vienna, of which we were masters, although it preserved 
 the left bank of the Danube, and impeded the arrival of the most 
 necessary supplies for the subsistence of the capital. Such being 
 the causes of hope and of fear which furnished matter for dis¬ 
 cussion and conjecture, both to the French and their opponents, 
 Napoleon having declined to convey to any one the project he 
 
178 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 had conceived, the least indiscretion being sufficient to hinder its 
 execution. 
 
 At four in the morning of the 1st July, the Emperor returned 
 to the island of Lobau, which had been named Isle Napoleon; a 
 small island to which the name of Montebello had been given, over 
 against Enzersdorf, had been armed with ten mortars, and twenty 
 eighteen pounders ; another island, named Espagne, had been 
 armed with six guns of twelve pounds, and four mortars. Between 
 these two islands had been established a battery equal to that of 
 Montebello, and directed to the same point. These sixty pieces 
 had the same direction, and in two hours could have razed the 
 little town of Enzersdorf, driven out the enemy, and destroyed 
 his works. On the right the island of Alexander, armed with 
 four mortars, ten twelve pounders, and twelve six pounders, com¬ 
 manded the plain, and protected the bridges. 
 
 On the 2nd, Massena threw five hundred voltigeurs into the 
 island of Moulin, the possession of which they retained, erecting 
 works therein, and joining it to the main land by a little bridge, 
 which reached the left bank. In advance was constructed a work 
 called the little redoubt, and in the evening the enemy’s redoubts 
 at Essling, appearing jealous of it, not doubting that it was one of 
 the first batteries that would be opened against them, commenced 
 firing with great vigour. This was precisely the result which was 
 sought by the occupation of the island, the attention of the 
 Austrians being occupied, while the true intention of the operation 
 was concealed. 
 
 On the 4th, at ten o’clock at night, fifteen hundured voltigeurs, 
 of Oudinot’s division, embarked in gun-boats, on the main branch 
 of the Danube, passing thence below the island of Lobau. The 
 enemy was quickly attacked, and driven from the wood to a village 
 of Muhlleuten. At eleven, the batteries directed against Enzersdorf 
 received orders to commence firing. The howitzers destroyed the 
 little town, and in less than half-an-hour the enemy’s batteries were 
 silenced. 
 
 While the guns razed Enzersdorf, Massena crossed the little 
 branch of the Danube, in boats, with two thousand men, landing 
 them on the left bank below the town, at the same time the 
 engineers threw a bridge, in one piece, of eighty toises, from one 
 bank to the other. The infantry passed at quick march under 
 a heavy fire from howitzers, bombs, and guns, both French and 
 Austrian, which, discharged from either bank, few over them. 
 
 Soon after, two other bridges were thrown over at a short 
 distance from the first, and at three in the morning the army had 
 four bridges by which it debouched ; the left at fifteen hundred 
 toises below Enzersdorf, protected by the batteries, and the right on 
 Wittade ; Massena’s corps formed the left, that of Lannes, under 
 Oudinot,the centre, Davoust’s the right, Bernadotte’s corps, those 
 of Eugene, and Marmont, the Imperial Guard, and the heavy 
 cavalry, composed the second line and the reserve. A profound 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 179 
 
 obscurity, a violent storm, rain which fell in torrents, the thunder,, 
 the deafening roar of the artillery, the whistling of balls from 
 howitzers, bombs, and muskets, rendered the night awful, but it 
 was not the less favourable to our army. 
 
 With the earliest rays of the sun, on the morning of the 5th, 
 everyone discovered with admiration the project of Napoleon, who 
 found himself and his army in battle array on the enemy’s extreme 
 left, turned his intrenched camps, rendered all his work and his 
 toil useless, and obliged him to abandon his positions, and to fight 
 on the ground which he chose. A great problem had been solved, 
 and without passing the Danube elsewhere, without receiving any 
 other protection than was afforded by the works erected, he had 
 forced the enemy to a battle within three quarters of a league of 
 his redoubts. 
 
 This prestige of success emboldened us, and we pictured to 
 ourselves the greatest and happiest results. 
 
 At eight in the morning the batteries had produced such an 
 effect that the enemy was obliged to abandon Enzersdorf, leaving 
 four battalions which surrendered to Massena, while Oudinot, 
 surrounded the chateau of Sachsengang, which the enemy had 
 fortified, taking nine hundred men who had defended it, and twelve 
 pieces of cannon. 
 
 Napoleon now deployed his whole army on the plain of Enzers¬ 
 dorf, and the Austrians having recovered from their surprise, 
 seized some advantages from this new field of battle. To effect 
 this, Prince Charles detached several columns of infantry, a 
 numerous train of artillery, and the whole of his cavalry, regular 
 and irregular, to endeavour to turn the right of the French army. 
 He soon occupied the village of Rutzendorf, which Napoleon 
 ordered Oudinot to carry, to the right of which Davoust passed, 
 to attack the head-quarters of Prince Charles, as he marched from 
 the right to the left. 
 
 From noon till evening both armies manoeuvred on this vast 
 plain, taking all the villages, and hardly had we arrived at the 
 entrenched camps of the enemy than they fell into our hands as if 
 by enchantment, Massena occupied them without resistance, and 
 thus we became masters of the works at Essling and Gross Aspern 
 ■—works, the labour of forty days, which had proved of no use to 
 the Austrians. 
 
 The enemy had his right from Standlau to Gerardsdorf, his 
 centre from Gerardsdorf to Wagram; his left from the latter place 
 to Neusiedel. Our left was at Gross Aspern, the centre at 
 Ruschdorf, our right at Glinzendorf. 
 
 In this state of things the 5th was almost over, and it was 
 necessary to prepare for the grand struggle on the morrow ; 
 nevertheless we attacked Wagram—our troops carried the village, 
 but in the darkness a column of Saxons and another of French 
 mistook each other for Austrians, rendering the operation incom¬ 
 plete—so we rested on our arms to await the break of day. 
 
180 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 0 
 
 CHAP. XLIV. 
 
 WAGRAM. 
 
 “ Again the Austrian Caesar flies before 
 
 Gaul’s conq’ring troops—the cannons’deafening roar; 
 
 On the imperial palace floats once more 
 The glorious flag of France, the tricolor.” 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The battle of Wagram was inevitable, and we prepared for it. 
 The dispositions of the two generals were diametrically opposite. 
 Napoleon passed the night in concentrating his force on the centre, 
 where it was hardly gun-shot distant from Wagram, Massena 
 marched to the left of Aderklau, leaving a single division only at 
 Aspern, and that was to retire on the Isle of Lobau if necessary. 
 Davoust received orders to pass the village of Gross Hoffen, to 
 approach the centre ; while Prince Charles, on the contrary, 
 enfeebled and weakened his centre to augment his flanks, to which 
 he gave a greater extension. 
 
 On the morning of the 6th, at break of day, Bernadotte, having 
 Massena in second line, occupied the left, Eugene the centre, where 
 Marmont, Oudinot, the guard, and the heavy cavalry division, 
 formed many lines. Davoust marched from the right to arrive at 
 the centre. 
 
 The enemy put Bellegarde’s corps in motion on Stadelau ; 
 Kallowrath’s corps, and those of Lichtenstein, and Hiller, lay on 
 the right of the position at Wagram, where was also Prince 
 Hohenzollern ; and on the extreme left, at Neusiedel, Rosenberg’s 
 corps debouched to intercept Davoust. 
 
 When the first rays of the sun broke forth, the order for battle 
 was given. 
 
 Napoleon was at the spot most menaced, and re-inforced Davoust 
 by a division of cuirassiers, taking Rosenberg’s corps in flank, by 
 a battery of twelve field pieces of Nansouty’s division. In less 
 than three-quarters of an hour, Davoust’s corps had overthrown 
 that of the enemy, who was driven back on Neusiedel, sustaining 
 great loss. 
 
 During this time the cannonade extended along the whole line, 
 and the dispositions of the Austrians became more developed every 
 moment. The whole of their left was crowded with artillery, and 
 it was said that Prince Charles did not so much combat for the 
 victory as for the results that must spring from it, and this ap. 
 peared so extraordinary that we feared some snare. For a long 
 time Napoleon deferred making some manoeuvres which he had 
 determined to execute in opposition to those of his adversar)' - , but 
 this state of things could not last, and Massena was ordered to 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 181 
 
 attack a village in the occupation of the enemy, which a little 
 incommoded the extremity of the centre of the army, while 
 Davoust was ordered to turn the position of Neusiedel, and 
 fall on Wagram, for which purpose he formed in column Marmont 
 and Macdonald’s divisions, who carried the village just as Davoust 
 debouched. 
 
 The enemy attacked the post which Massena had carried, with 
 the greatest fury, throwing our left into some confusion, while 
 a heavy cannonade extended as far as Gross Aspern, the interval 
 between which and the village of Wagram appeared covered with 
 an immense line of artillery. 
 
 Immediately orders were given to Macdonald’s division to form 
 in columns for the attack, and it was sustained by Nansouty’s 
 cavalry, the horse-guards, a battery of sixty pieces of the guard, 
 and of forty others belonging to different corps. Three hundred 
 guns started at a trot towards the enemy, advancing within half 
 range, and then unlimbering, commenced a murderous fire which 
 soon silenced the Austrians, sowing destruction in their ranks. 
 Macdonald’s division, supported by the fusileers and tirailleurs 
 of the guard advanced at quick time, the guard itself having 
 changed front to render this attack certain. 
 
 In a second, as it were, the centre of the enemy lost its line of 
 direction; the right, terrified by the danger of its situation, re¬ 
 treated in great haste, Massena threw himself on the leading 
 columns during the confusion that ensued, while the enemy’s left 
 was briskly charged and repulsed by Davoust, who, after having 
 carried Neusiedel, and attained the summit of the plateau, marched 
 on Wagram. Oudinot had orders to advance on the village in 
 support of Davoust, and this important position, which decided 
 the fate of the battle, was carried. 
 
 By ten o’clock in the morning the enemy was in full retreat, at 
 noon the affair was settled, and the Austrian army in disorder, 
 and long before night Prince Charles, who was wounded, was 
 out of sight. 
 
 Our left now extended to Jetelsee, the centre was at Obersdorf, 
 and our right at Shenhirchen. 
 
 At daybreak on the 7th, the army was in movement, and 
 advanced on Korneuburg and Walkersdorf, with some troops at 
 Nicolsburg. The enemy, cut off from Hungary and Moravia, 
 found himself driven into Bohemia. He had lost on the evening 
 before, and the day of, the battle, near sixty thousand men ; our 
 loss was infinitely less, although very considerable, and amongst 
 the rest we had to deplore the death of General Lasalle, a brave 
 and good officer, who was mortally wounded while cheering his 
 men to the attack. 
 
 This battle, and never was one more memorable, took^ place 
 under the eyes of a numerous portion of the population of Vienna, 
 who, mounted upon the towers and the tops of the houses, were 
 spectators of the defeat of their compatriots. The Emperor of 
 
182 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Austria had quitted Walkersdorf on the 6th, at one o’clock in the 
 morning, and was placed upon a terrace, from which he beheld 
 the plain which enclosed fifteen hundred pieces of artillery, and 
 four hundred thousand men, contending for victory under two of 
 the most able generals of the age. 
 
 We continued to advance, and should, in a short time, not only 
 have annihilated the remains of Prince Charles’s army, but also 
 the Austrian monarchy, if Napoleon had not generously granted 
 an armistice to the Emperor Francis on the night of the 11th of 
 July. The different corps of the army were ordered into position, 
 Massena occupying the circle of Znaim; Davoust that of Briinn; 
 Marmont, Korneuburg and its environs ; Oudinot, Spitz; Eugene, 
 Presbourg and Gratz. We of the Guard were established round 
 the chateau of Schoenbrunn, which had been already named as the 
 head-quarters. 
 
 The fine dispositions of Napoleon at Obersberg, Landshut, and 
 Eckmulh ; his inarch on Vienna instead of following the Arch¬ 
 duke into the mountain fastnesses of Bohemia; the works on the 
 Danube and at the Island of Lobau, which were planned by his 
 genius and executed under his eye ; the passage of that river ; the 
 manoeuvre which placed our army on the extreme left of the 
 enemy, rendering of no avail his strong entrenchments ; the attack 
 in force on one point only, and the occupation of Wagram, 
 which taking place simultaneously decided the fortune of the day, 
 form altogether a great and magnificent picture, which the generals 
 of many an age to come will do well to study. 
 
 But if Napoleon acquired immortal glory in this campaign. 
 Prince Charles was not for imitating him. What great fault did 
 he not commit in withdrawing from his line of operations on the 
 Danube ? He was very advantageously situated, having Ratisbon 
 and Straubing on his right, Passau in the centre, Lintz and Ens 
 on his left, and these might have, been rendered formidable if 
 the Prince had advanced on the Rhine before the arrival of Napo¬ 
 leon in Germany. In retiring, too, into Bohemia and Moravia, 
 Prince Charles well knew he perilled the existence of the Austrian 
 monarchy. Had he rallied the troops of his brother and General 
 Hiller after the battle of Eckmulh, and manoeuvred on the van of 
 his line of operations, he might have avoided the battle of Wagram ; 
 the country was difficult, his position with regard to Vienna re¬ 
 spectable, and the day of Essling having been against him, he 
 ought to have shunned this later engagement, especially with an 
 army consisting mainly of recruits, and ill-drilled, who were more 
 than intimidated behind their intrenchments, which many of them 
 regarded as a position that was impregnable. 
 
 The armistice was prolonged, and on the 14th of October a 
 treaty of peace was signed at Vienna. Thus terminated the 
 campaign of Austria, and scarcely had we returned into France 
 than measures were entered into for the dissolution of the bonds 
 which united the Emperor to Josephine, and their re-construction 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 183 
 
 with a daughter of the house of Austria, the princess, in fact, 
 who, being ill of the small-pox, was left behind when her family 
 evacuated the capital, and in whose favour Napoleon turned the 
 direction of the artillery which was then firing on the palace. 
 These affairs are too much matters of history to form part of my 
 subject; I shall therefore content myself with saying that I 
 returned to my old quarters in Paris, and resumed the usual 
 duties of the guard at the chateau of the Tuileries. 
 
 CHAP. XLV. 
 
 RUSSIA.—THE ADVANCE. 
 
 “ Some shout at victory’s loud acclaim, 
 
 Some fall that victory to assure; 
 
 But time divulges that in name 
 Alone, our triumphs are secure.” 
 
 Duo. 
 
 There were gay doings in Paris on the arrival of the Arch- 
 Duchess Maria Louisa, and I partook of them ; still I could not 
 but feel—and feel deeply—for the unfortunate Josephine, at whose 
 hands I had received many acts of kindness, and who, as I heard 
 from her attendants, was rendered miserable by her repudiation. 
 She was one of those “ children of the sun,” who loved pas¬ 
 sionately, and the giddy height to which she had risen, and from 
 which she was thus unceremoniously precipitated, had failed to 
 obliterate either the feelings of the woman or the affection of the 
 wife. Of the policy of the step, I am not competent to gire an 
 opinion; for, educated in a camp, questions of national policy were 
 out of my way ; but though the glittering pageant in which I bore 
 a part, served occasionally to drive from my mind the injustice 
 which was committed, it ever and anon revived, making me 
 regret the cause that gave origin to the show. 
 
 I had passed so many years in the bustle of a campaign, that 
 when on duty in the capital I often sighed to be with the gay and 
 gallamt hearts that were winning laurels in the field, and like the 
 war-horse, champing his bit ere the encounter begins, I bore with 
 little equanimity the duty that prevented me sharing their suc¬ 
 cesses. But the end came at last ; and when, in 1812 , the 
 Emperor Alexander, forgetting his defeats at Austerlitz, at Eylau, 
 and at Friedland, determined on making preparations for war, and 
 Napoleon, on demanding the cause, was assured that he remained 
 faithful to the alliance he had formed, it required the re-union of 
 eighty thousand men on the frontiers of Poland, to convince the 
 
 R 
 
184 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 Emperor that his brother of Russia was no longer to be trusted. 
 There can be no doubt that Alexander was jealous of the reputa¬ 
 tion Napoleon had acquired, that he was envious of his intrepidity, 
 his genius, and his power, his great and brilliant glory, and that 
 with a view of curbing the ambition of one who strove to rule the 
 world, he sacrificed his honor, and risked his kingdom. 
 
 At peace with the princes of Germany, Napoleon accepted the 
 defiance of his rival, and in so doing sought to effect three 
 desirable ends :—He was willing to free Poland from the yoke of 
 the Czar; to destroy the commerce of England, which Alexander 
 encouraged contrary to the faith of his treaties, during which he 
 had prohibited that of France, and so to cripple the power of the 
 Russian, by a quick and decisive campaign, as to induce him to 
 withdraw from the English alliance, if he did not succeed in 
 affording to Europe the peace it so much desired. He made 
 levies of men, remounted his cavalry, provisioned his magazines 
 and arsenals, demanded of the Emperor of Austria and the Con¬ 
 federation of the Rhine the contingents agreed upon in the treaties 
 concluded between them, and succeeded in deciding the King of 
 Prussia to arm in his favour. 
 
 Nevertheless, desirous of preventing the effusion of blood, he 
 sent an ambassador to St. Petersburgh to demand the maintenance 
 of the conventions, the continuance of peace and good-will, which 
 he affected to believe sincere, and on the left bank of the Niemen 
 waited for an answer, while he organized and completed his army. 
 
 These pacific propositions were not acceded to, for his envoy 
 was refused an interview, and then, justly incensed at so extraor¬ 
 dinary a proceeding, he addressed his army—who attended with 
 impatience the order to advance—in a proclamation, which re¬ 
 counted his wrongs and threatened redress. 
 
 The army was divided into ten corps, each having several 
 brigades of cavalry, and well supplied with artillery, and these 
 were entrusted to the command of Davoust, Oudinot, Ney, 
 Eugene, Poniatowski, Saint Cyr, Regnier, Jerome, Victor, and 
 Macdonald. The cavalry, independent of the brigades attached 
 to each division, formed four corps under the orders of Nansouty, 
 Montbrun, Grouchy, and Latour Maubourg, who were subordi¬ 
 nate to Murat. The Imperial Guard, both horse and foot, were 
 commanded by Marshals Lefebvre, Mortier, and Bessieres ; while 
 the Austrians formed a separate corps under Prince Schwartzenberg. 
 
 The Russian army was composed of six great corps, commanded 
 by Generals Wittgenstein, Bagawout, Schmoaloff, Tulschkoff, 
 Bragation, and Doctorow, all under the orders of Barklay de 
 Tolly, who was himself commanded by the Emperor Alexander. 
 
 In order to reconnoitre the enemy, Napoleon ascended the 
 heights which overlooked Kowno, a small town situated on the 
 confluence of the Niemen and the Willia, and having ascertained 
 his position, our troops were soon in motion, passing the Niemen 
 at various points, carrying Wilna, to which movement Barklay de 
 
A SOLDIER OE FORTUNE. 
 
 Tolly offered no resistance ; on the contrary, he retired in haste, 
 having failed in an endeavour to destroy his magazines. 
 
 This bold manoeuvre took the enemy’s corps by surprise, threw 
 them into difficulty and doubt, and the disorder prevented Bra- 
 gation, who commanded the left wing and several other corps, 
 from acting in concert with Barklay. The consequence was, these 
 two generals were unable to unite their forces before they arrived 
 at Smolensko, a distance of eighty leagues from Wilna, while 
 we were left masters of the two fine provinces of Lithuania and 
 Samogitia. 
 
 While the French army effected the passage of the Niemen, 
 and advanced, its centre on Wilna, the left on Wilkomirz, and the 
 right on Ossmiana, the Emperor Alexander abandoned himself to 
 pleasure at the Chateau of General Beningsen, about half a league 
 from Wilna, from which he was awakened by the thunder of our 
 artillery. He then solicited an armistice, and begged Napoleon 
 to repass the river ; but as his design was only to gain time, so 
 as to act with greater security, it was easily seen through, and 
 Napoleon refused the armistice, but offered to negociate a treaty 
 of peace on the spotVhere the two armies were placed. Alexander, 
 deceived in his hope, recalled his plenipotentiary. 
 
 On the 28 th of June Napoleon entered Wilna, where he was 
 met by a deputation from the confederation of Poland, who 
 demanded the independence of their country. He received them 
 with great honour, and answered in a remarkably moderate 
 manner, declining to accede to their request so long as all the 
 Poles were not united to preserve the liberties which they were 
 desirous of recovering. He accepted a guard of honour, composed 
 of young Lithuanians, under the command of Prince Ogienski, and 
 some regiments of infantry were levied spontaneously. This 
 guard afterwards became the second regiment of Polish light horse, 
 
 : commanded by General Konopka. 
 
 On the 30 th, the whole of the army had crossed the river, and 
 - taken position, the guard remaining at Wilna. 
 
 Before he had crossed the Niemen, Napoleon had without doubt 
 calculated (at least his ulterior operations indicated as much) that 
 he should establish his head quarters at Wilna, Witepsk, Smo¬ 
 lensko, and Moscow, by making march on many lines all the 
 corps of the army, the movements of which would have these four 
 towns as the centre of operations. The execution of this plan, 
 i more or less understood by his lieutenants, proves how grand 
 yet just were his calculations, and how superior he was in intelli- 
 jgence to his enemy. Thus was Alexander cruelly deceived, when 
 i the French army, which he thought was directed on St. Petersburg, 
 j by Courland and Livonia, advanced straight on Moscow, having 
 passed the Niemen, and become master of both banks of the 
 Willia, separating the different corps of the Russian army, and 
 having destroyed their line of operations from the Niemen to the 
 jNieper. 
 
186 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 From Wilna the Emperor advanced to Witepsk, with the whole 
 of his forces, and on the 26th July arrived at Kukowiaizy, a 
 village separated from the town by the wood of Ostrowno. During 
 his march, the right ought to have entirely destroyed Bragations’s 
 corps, much weaker than itself, in a defile between Rieswig and 
 Glusck, if Jerome Buonaparte and Davoust had acted in concert. 
 
 On the 27th, we discovered the Russian army in position on an 
 immense plateau which commanded the place. The cavalry was 
 partly drawn out in order of battle on the plain, backed by 
 the Lutehse, a deep and rapid river. Napoleon approached within 
 range to examine them, and an encounter took place between 
 two hundred of our voltigeurs and the whole Russian cavalry. 
 
 During the examination, Murat pushed forward against the 
 Russian cavalry a regiment of chasseurs a cheval, who being met 
 would have been inevitably cut to pieces but that they were 
 timely supported. The enemy on retiring fell in with 200 of our 
 voltigeurs, and surrounding them prepared to put them to the 
 sword. This was more easily said than done; they formed in 
 square, and boldly resisted a mass of cavalry amounting to at 
 least ten thousand men, bringing down upwards of three hundred 
 with their first volley. This happened in the presence of both 
 armies, who, placed on two small hills, which formed a sort of 
 amphitheatre, could witness every movement. Napoleon dispatched 
 an aid-de-camp to know to what corps these men belonged, and it 
 being reported to him that they were of the 9th regiment of in¬ 
 fantry, “ Go to them immediately,” said the Emperor, “ say that 
 they are brave men, and have well deserved to bear the cross of 
 the legion.” 
 
 On the morrow this mark of honour and of bravery was be¬ 
 stowed on every one of them. 
 
 CHAP. XLVI. 
 
 SMOLENSKO. 
 
 * 
 
 “ The trench is dug, the cannon’s breath 
 Wings the far hissing globe of death; 
 
 Fast whirl the fragments from the wall 
 Which crumbles with the ponderous ball; 
 
 And from that wall the foe replies, 
 
 O’er dusty plain and smoky skies. 
 
 Byron . 
 
 Barklay de Tolly being afraid to be forced from his position, 
 although in command of eighty thousand men, withdrew his 
 cavalry, and in the night effected his retreat on Smolensko, where 
 he was joined by Bagration, but we were made acquainted with the 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 187 
 
 movement by the ravages and fires which illuminated the whole 
 country. In fact, whenever the opportunity offered, the Russians 
 destroyed and ravaged the country, all the way from Wilna to 
 Moscow, thus cutting off our supplies, and rendering the task of 
 provisioning a large force one of great difficulty and danger. 
 
 In every case, whether the war be just or unjust, the generals 
 forecasting or thoughtless, it is necessary that the troops should 
 live and be clothed ; and if the magazines of the army are in¬ 
 sufficient for this, the country through which it marches must 
 make up the deficiency. The conduct of the Russian General, 
 therefore, exposed us to great privations, which were supported 
 with resignation. We had never been plunderers ; and even now, 
 when want stared us in the face, Napoleon reminded his com¬ 
 panions in arms that pillage dishonoured the brave, and ruined 
 the people; that he had rather his army were resigned to the pains 
 and privations they must necessarily undergo than, losing their 
 respect for the orders of their officers, become the scorn of the 
 world, and thus our brave fellows, jealous of their good names, 
 proved by their discipline, that they could merit the good 
 opinion of their Emperor by enduring, without murmuring, famine 
 and fatigue, afterwards increased by the rigours of a season which 
 cut them off by thousands. On the 4th of August, the head-quar¬ 
 ters were at Witepsk, the right from Orsato Mohilow; the left on 
 the bank of the Dwina, extending to Wely ; the centre in advance 
 of Witepsk, and lying with its two wings and the cavalry at Rudine, 
 the advanced guard at Inkowo. 
 
 Such was the disposition of the army, such the genius that had 
 superintended the placing of each individual corps, so as even¬ 
 tually to protect and support each other, that Napoleon could at 
 any one moment seize a large extent of country. 
 
 There were no suppositions engendered—no difficulties un¬ 
 foreseen—no accidents unprovided for when he felt disposed to 
 move these masses; all was foreseen, everything ordered, and the 
 execution could only be prevented by the ignorance or timidity of 
 his officers, who were in general as brave as they were well in¬ 
 formed. 
 
 These great corps were a load too heavy for any other hand, in 
 which they would have been found without union, without accord, 
 but with him every thing went smoothly, every movement was 
 executed in the finest order, and always apropos. If anything 
 went wrong his eye discovered the mistake, his genius rectified 
 it, for his principal talent was to profit by the mistakes of others, 
 and to turn them to his own account, instead of leaving them to 
 be profited by his opponent.’ Did any one flag, Napoleon re¬ 
 animated him, was his courage depressed, his example re-assured 
 him ; and, while the most implicit obedience was paid to his 
 commands, his presence raised the spirits of all those who served 
 under him, electrified all their souls—our troops could neither 
 exist nor conquer without him—he was the idol of their hearts, 
 
 r 3 
 
188 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 his smiles rendered them happy, his frowns miserable, with him 
 there were no obstables—no enemies invincible—privations, dan¬ 
 gers, exertions—nothing diminished their confidence nor their 
 affection. 
 
 Our men had need of rest, and that our illustrious chief well 
 knew, but he also knew that it would not do to afford the 
 enemy time to recover from his losses and surprise. 
 
 The army advanced rapidly and in good order on Smolensko, a 
 large town, although thinly peopled. Our advanced guard fell 
 in with the division of General Rewrerowski, in the defile of 
 Krasnoe, and there attacked him with spirit. Notwithstanding a 
 brave resistance, he was repulsed, losing many men and several 
 guns. If our artillery had been brought up in time, the destruc¬ 
 tion of the division would have been complete. 
 
 At the news of this check, the Russians retired from Smolensko, 
 but quickly returned. Barklay de Tolly had nearly one hundred 
 and twenty thousand men, besides the division of the Prince 
 Bagration, who was detached to cover his retreat on Dorogobuze, 
 on the road between Smolensko and Yiazma, thinking that Napo¬ 
 leon manoeuvered tow-ards this point. Barklay had lost his confi¬ 
 dence when opposed to Napoleon, but having received orders 
 from his sovereign to hold out Smolensko, even at the risk of a 
 battle, he could not but obey. Alexander had prudently quitted 
 the army and returned to his capital, where he passed his time 
 issuing bulletins, setting forth the victories of an army, which at 
 the moment was threatened on all sides with inevitable destruc¬ 
 tion. 
 
 Smolensko was surrounded by a wall, a league and a half in 
 circumference, ten feet thick, and tw r enty-five high, flanked at 
 short distances by enormous towers and bastions, mounted with 
 heavy guns, and crenelled for musketry. Barklay had thrown 
 30,000 men within the w r alls, and drew up the remainder of his 
 force on the banks of the Nieper, communicating with the town 
 by bridges, which he had erected prior to the affair at Krasnoe. 
 
 Napoleon reconnoitred the enemy, w'hose principal forces on 
 the right were near to Smolensko, and his left on the bank of the 
 river, and then prepared for the encounter. Ney commanded the 
 left, and advanced on the river; Davoust directed the centre, and 
 attacked with great force the faubourgs, v'hile Poniatowski, at the 
 head of the right, w r as ready to advance to the river by changing 
 front, as soon as the state of the battle admitted of the move¬ 
 ment. The guard supported the centre, Eugene the left wing, the 
 brigade of cavalry the right; the eighth corps of the army w r as 
 on the extreme right, but Junot made a false movement, which 
 prevented their taking any part in the affray. 
 
 Such w r ere the dispositions of the tw r o armies; but, the same 
 hopes did not animate the two commanders. Napoleon v'as cer¬ 
 tain of success; defeat never entered into his calculation ; to fight 
 and to conquer were things inseparable with him ; but Barklay, 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 189 
 
 on the contrary, was doubtful of the result, and half beaten before 
 the battle commenced. 
 
 On the 17th of August, at noon, Napoleon, placed between 
 the guard and Davoust’s division, gave the signal. The faubourgs, 
 entrenched and defended by heavy artillery, were carried at the 
 point of the bayonet , amid loud cries of “ Yive l’Empereur !” 
 Batteries were established, which thundered away at the ramparts, 
 and those who defended them ; while the enemv’s masses formed 
 on the banks of the river. We prepared for the assault, while 
 Barklay reinforced the garrison by a brigade of the Russian Guard, 
 and two divisions of the line, with the hope of affording Bagra¬ 
 tion time to come up to his support. But these re-inforcements 
 and new dispositions were of no avail, and only delayed the 
 surrender of the town a few hours. Napoleon, after having 
 directed a heavy brigade of cavalry to attack that of the enemy, 
 which was posted on a plateau that extended to a bridge down 
 the river, where was also a battery of sixty pieces of artillery, 
 thundering away at the right bank, ordered Ney to carry the 
 position, and to pursue the enemy to the glacis. Friand, Mor- 
 land, and Gudin, were each ordered to turn a breaching battery 
 of twelve pieces against the walls, to render the covered ways 
 untenable by the garrison, and to enfilade the streets. These 
 orders executed, the ramparts and covered ways were swept by 
 our guns ; and the Russians, finding the place too hot to hold 
 them, set fire to it at various points, and fled, crossing the river, 
 and, breaking down the bridges, continued their retreat by Prou- 
 ditchi and Loubino, traversing several defiles and marshes. 
 
 On the 18th we entered the town, where we found two hundred 
 pieces of cannon, five thousand killed, and seven thousand 
 wounded, as well in the town as the environs. Our loss was 
 proportionably severe, for we had three thousand five hundred 
 men killed or rendered hors de combat, notwithstanding the ability 
 displayed in the attack, and the vigour with which it was 
 prosecuted. 
 
 At the close of this victory, Napoleon, according to his system 
 of never letting his enemy breathe, a system which he often 
 explained to his officers by the words, “ Nothing is done while 
 aught remains to do,” hotly pursued the Russians. We came up 
 with their rear guard on the plain of \ alontina, called the ‘ holy 
 field,” which, tradition said, was a happiness to the people. But 
 it proved anything but that, for again were they attacked, and 
 again defeated, although re-inforced by a division under General 
 Karpow, and supported bv Barklay himself, who advanced each 
 division as it arrived by echelon. 
 
 On the 191 h, Ney and Murat attacked this position, carrying 
 it, and coA r ering the field of battle with the dead and the dying. 
 'I'he Russians lost a great part of the baggage which they had 
 saved from Smolensko, and again would our success have been 
 complete, had Junot seconded Ney by debouching on Koniecsevvo, 
 
190 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 and cut off their retreat. Our loss was again severe, and amongst 
 the brave men who fell to rise no more was General Gudin, an 
 officer of great merit, of rare judgment, and cool intrepidity. 
 
 Napoleon passed in review the regiments which had been 
 engaged at Yalontina, and himself distributed the rewards. By 
 well-merited eulogiums he inflamed the troops with the noblest 
 enthusiasm, and was thanked by loud cries of “ Vive l’Empereur,” 
 without doubt making the day to him, as well as to them, the 
 most pleasureable of the campaign. It was in truth an interesting 
 spectacle to behold these brave soldiers surrounding their Sove¬ 
 reign, laying at his feet their best energies, for, although the 
 field of battle covered with the dead and dying, proves beyond 
 anything else that the French know how to appreciate and cherish 
 the military talents of their chiefs, it is when the strife has ended 
 that they show themselves aware of their virtues and their 
 gratitude. 
 
 The victories of Witepsk, Smolensko, and Yalontina, were not 
 the only ones achieved by the grand army. The second, sixth, 
 and tenth corps directed on the left, and the seventh, with the 
 Austrians, on the right, gained some advantages, but the sixth, 
 commanded by St. Cvr, was that which acted with the most vigour 
 and determination. It obtained a marked success over Wittgen¬ 
 stein, at Polotsk, killing two thousand of his men, and wounding 
 four thousand, besides taking many prisoners (amongst them 
 were three generals,) and twenty pieces of cannon. For this 
 brilliant exploit St. Cyr received the baton of marshal. 
 
 Before commencing his march on Moscow, Napoleon was 
 desirous of being better supported by the reserve, and the corps 
 which lay on either side the great road in the rear. Victor was 
 ordered to advance rapidly, and establish his head-quarters at 
 Smolensko, his right at Mohiiow, his centre at Orsa, and his 
 left at Witepsk. This reserve, destined to protect the march of 
 Napoleon on arriving at the places fixed by him, had on the left 
 the corps of Oudinot and St. Cyr at Polotsk and Swalnad ; and 
 of Macdonald at Dunabourg and Riga. In the rear of the centre 
 were the corps of Regnier and Schwartzenberg, which Loison 
 and Durutte’s divisions from Konigsbeyg replaced on the Bug. 
 On the right, at Bobruisk, was a part of the fifth corps com¬ 
 manded by General Dambrowski. The whole of these troops 
 together composed a mass of one hundred and sixty thousand, 
 which could easily be put in motion, besides which the Polish 
 levies, and the reinforcements from France and Prussia, were 
 on the march and had entered Russia. 
 
 Such were the dispositions on which Napoleon relied to support 
 the army in its advance on Moscow, or if necessary protect its 
 retreat on Smolensko. The most precise orders were given to 
 fortify the towns and entrenchments—to form magazines and 
 hospitals; in fact everything that genius could suggest or devotion 
 achieve to second the projects of the Emperor was done. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 191 
 
 CHAP. XLVII. 
 
 BORODINO. 
 
 Soldats! Voila la bataille que vous avez tant desiree! desorrnais la 
 victoire depend de vous, elle vous est necessaire ; elle nous donnera 
 l’abondance de bons quar-tiers d’hiver, et un prompt retour dans la 
 patrie .”—Proclamation of Buonaparte. 
 
 After the action of Valontina, the French army continued in 
 pursuit of the enemy, and arrived at Ghjat on the 1st of September. 
 Here Napoleon concentrated his forces, and remained some days 
 to allow the troops to recover from the fatigues they had undergone, 
 and the stragglers to come up, as well as to prepare for the great 
 battle which he foresaw must inevitably take place. He prepared 
 to attack Kutusow, who had succeeded Barklay de Tolly as com¬ 
 mander-in-chief, before certain re-inforcements, which he expected 
 from Moldavia, should come in. 
 
 The Russians were in position at Borodino, a village situate at 
 the confluence of a small river with the Kalogha, on the route to, 
 and within some twenty-five leagues of, Moscow. The place had 
 been fortified. Murat established himself on the main road in the 
 neighbourhood of Gridnewa, Poniatowski towards Budoiewo, 
 Eugene on the left near Pawlowo, Davoust, Ney, and the guard 
 around the Emperor. 
 
 Napoleon examined this position with great attention ; not a 
 movement of Kutusow escaped him, and prepared for the attack. 
 Alexina and the surrounding woods, those of Elnia and the 
 batteries constructed in the redoubt of Schwardino, a village 
 opposite to Kalogha, between Borodino and the wood were carried, 
 alter an obstinate resistance, but night coming on, the two armies 
 remained under arms on the spot which they occupied ; Poni¬ 
 atowski below Elnia ; Ney at Schwardino, having Junot in reserve; 
 Davoust in the centre, sustained by the horse and foot guards, 
 Nansouty’s, Montbrun’s, and Latour Manbourg’s corps of cavalry; 
 Eugene on the road to Moscow, having as a reserve the Italian 
 Guard and Grouchy’s cavalry. Napoleon, with his staff, remained 
 in the centre of the lines. 
 
 The enemy had only employed the troops which covered Elnia 
 and Schwardino, and occupied as before the heights from Utitsa 
 to Maslowa, that is to say, the W'hole space which exists between 
 the old road from Moscow to Smolensko, and thence to the 
 Moskwa. His centre extended from Gorka to Semenow r ska, 
 advancing towards Borodino and the wood of Utitsa. The 
 position was well chosen, being defended by the Kalogha and 
 supported on the right by the Moskwa; the left by thick woods. 
 
192 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 with such necessary debouches as would enable him to effect 
 his retreat, should he be desirous of evading an engagement. 
 The dispositions of Kutusow were those of an able commander, 
 based on the principles indicated by the best tacticians, never¬ 
 theless all these advantages vanished before the genius and valour 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 Very contrary feelings prevailed in the opposing forces ; the 
 French were sustained by their confidence in the experience and 
 courage of their leader, while the Russians were animated by an 
 ungovernable fanaticism; thus the battle was sure to be terrible 
 and bloody, for the two armies numbered from two hundred to 
 two hundred and fifty thousand men in their ranks. 
 
 Napoleon never ceased, during the night, studying the plans of 
 the ground occupied by the different corps of the army, which he 
 had received from the commanders. He made some changes 
 in the disposition of the cavalry, and ordered such parks of 
 artillery as bad not yet joined the army to move up more quickly, 
 determined, if possible, that they should cover and support each 
 movement. He then addressed a short but energetic proclamation 
 to the troops, in which he reminded them of Austerlitz and 
 Friedland, pointing out the glory that success would add to their 
 names. Nevertheless, whatever might be his confidence in the 
 courage and devotion of the men, to make assurance doubly sure, 
 he again studied and calculated the position of the two armies, 
 and on the 7th of September, all being arranged, we prepared for 
 the attack. 
 
 The evening before, and during the night, the rain had 
 descended m torrents ; about five in the morning it cleared up, 
 and the sun burst forth in splendour. “ Soldiers, it is the sun 
 of Austerlitz1” broke from the lips of the Emperor, who never 
 appeared to more advantage than on this day, which was to decide 
 the fate of his army. This exclamation flew from rank to rank, 
 animating the hearts of the soldiery with the same ardour as 
 inflamed their leader ; regiment after regiment moved up at a 
 quick pace, our artillery fired the signal, and the battle of Borodino 
 began. 
 
 The divisions of Compans and Gerard soon carried two re¬ 
 doubts at the point of the bayonet, in vain the Russians strove to 
 retake them, again and again they returned to the attack; the 
 slaughter was terrific, the moats being choked by the dead and 
 the wounded. Our cavalry drove their artillery and infantry back 
 on Semenowska, General Friand carrying the redoubt in advance 
 of this village by assault, Ney having been previously prevented 
 doing so by a battery of seventy pieces which crowned the heights 
 of Schwardino. This beautiful and daring manoeuvre was sup¬ 
 ported on the right of the marshal by the corps of Davoust and 
 of Poniatowski, and by a park of artillery, while Eugene advanced 
 on the left. General Planzonne carried the village of Borodino, 
 and fell at the moment of success. The intrepid Morand passed 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 193 
 
 the Kalogha, and marched on the great redoubt established to 
 the right of Borodino ; the enemy in force, being in advance of 
 Gorka, perceived the movement, and endeavoured to prevent it, 
 but Morand halted a sufficient time for one of his regiments to 
 turn the redoubt and carry it by assault, but so overwhelming 
 was the force by which they were opposed, that after a short and 
 obstinate resistance they were obliged to abandon their conquest. 
 
 The action had now become general, two hundred pieces of 
 cannon pouring destruction on the two armies. Soon the Rus¬ 
 sians began to find out they could neither advance nor retreat, 
 and there they stood under one of the most devastating fires the 
 French artillery ever maintained. In an instant Napoleon, who 
 was in the centre of his army, perceived the situation of the 
 Russians; the batteries of the reserve were ordered to move up ; 
 a hundred pieces of cannon opened on the great redoubt and the 
 enemy’s centre at the same time, while our gallant leader sup¬ 
 ported the courage of his men, and incited them to more despe¬ 
 rate efforts by addressing to each regiment as it passed, some 
 short sentence, recalling to their minds the battles in which they 
 had displayed the greatest energy and reaped the greatest glory. 
 Thus animated by the voice and the example of their brave 
 Emperor, the men surpassed themselves, and performed prodigies. 
 
 After having destroyed the greater part of the masses which 
 were opposed to the centre, Napoleon manoeuvred the eighth corps, 
 that of Ney and all the right, to turn the last position of the 
 Russians. He ordered the guard, with all the corps of cavalry, 
 to support this great movement; Eugene was directed to advance 
 on the Kalogha, and the victory was decided—the day became 
 our own; the Russians retiring towards Mojaisk, leaving on the 
 field of battle seventy pieces of artillery, and fifty-five thousand 
 men hors de combat, while amongst the latter were fifty general 
 officers. 
 
 This affair, in which the soldiers of both armies behaved admi¬ 
 rably, and even the losing party covered themselves with laurels, 
 was certainly one of the most brilliant of Napoleon’s achievements ; 
 never before had he directed so large a force with such consum¬ 
 mate ability, and certainly his plans had never been more admi¬ 
 rably carried into operation. The movements, the marches, the 
 manoeuvres even, and the order of battle of the two armies the 
 one to defend its positions which were believed to be impregnable 
 —the other to attack them because they fancied they could be 
 carried—were all of the most perfect kind, and the result was 
 only obtained by the most implicit obedience to the orders of 
 our chief. Kutusow had doubtless forgotten the severe lesson 
 he received at Austerlitz, or, perhaps, dazzled by ambition, he 
 flattered himself that he was equal to Napoleon; in either case 
 he found himself miserably deceived. 
 
 Napoleon remained master of the field of battle, and according 
 to his noble and generous custom, no sooner was the affray ended 
 
194 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OP 
 
 than his attention was turned to those who needed his care. 
 Orders were given for the accommodation of the wounded, both 
 French and Russians, in the hospitals and magazines established 
 in great numbers on the line of march, while those who had sur¬ 
 vived this memorable day were reminded that the city of Moscow 
 was still in the hands of the enemy, and that its conquest was 
 necessary to complete his plan of the campaign. 
 
 Towards this city Ivutusow continued his retreat, and our ex¬ 
 pedition could not be considered over until we had paralysed 
 his efforts by becoming masters of it. Then we might rest from 
 our labours, and be re-inforced by a portion of the troops left in 
 reserve on the Dwina and the Nieper, which Augereau would 
 replace with the eleventh corps of the army. Napoleon, therefore, 
 pursued the Russians with the whole of his cavalry, supported 
 by many divisions of infantry. 
 
 The enemy came to a stand again at Mojaisk, a town situated 
 twenty-six leagues east of Moscow, and here he endeavoured in 
 some manner to repair his awful disaster ; but he had only time 
 to set fire to the four corners of the town, having neither respect 
 for the poor inhabitants of the place, nor humanity for the 
 wounded, who were crowded into the churches, the hospitals, and 
 even the private houses. He again retired in great haste, harassed 
 by the French cavalry, which gave him no rest till he got beneath 
 the walls of Moscow. 
 
 Napoleon moved his head-quarters to Mojaisk, and disposed 
 of his forces as follows :—The fifth corps to the right of the town ; 
 the fourth on the left, extending to Ruza, its advanced guard at 
 Swenigorod ; the third at Kubinskoe, on the grand route to Mos¬ 
 cow; the first and the young guard between the third and the old 
 guard, placed before Mojaisk ; the eighth in reserve between 
 Borodino and the Imperial head-quarters. 
 
 Napoleon has been blamed for remaining forty-eight hours at 
 Mojaisk, but it is impossible to conduct a large army provided 
 with considerable materiel, and an immense number of equipages, 
 without halting occasionally to re-unite such parts of it as become 
 dissevered either by a battle or the ardour of pursuit. It is neces¬ 
 sary, though the enemy may be beaten and dispersed, that every 
 movement should be covered, every advance supported. If we had 
 immediately advanced on Moscow, the result would have been the 
 pillage of that city, and the utter demoralization of our army, nor 
 could we have avoided abandoning it, as we were afterwards com¬ 
 pelled to do. 
 
 After our short sojourn at Mojaisk, the troops were again in 
 motion, taking the same order as they had observed before the 
 halt, each corps advancing directly on Moscow. Arrived there, 
 we thought our toils at an end, and looked forward to comfortable 
 quarters for the winter. As regiment after regiment came up, they 
 were quartered round the city on the roads to Kolomna, Wladimir, 
 Jaroslow, Twer, Woloklansk, &c., and the Emperor, with a portion 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 195 
 
 of the guard, and the first corps, entered the city on the 14 th of 
 September. On the morrow morning, he fixed his residence in the 
 Kremlin an ancient palace of the Czars, strongly fortified and 
 situated in the centre of the city. Marshal Mortier was named 
 governor of Moscow, and strict orders were given that we should 
 treat the inhabitants with kindness and respect, the Marshal being 
 specially commanded to prevent any act of plunder. 
 
 Here were we then, as in former campaigns, occupying the 
 capital of our enemy’s kingdom, dictating laws from his palace, 
 regulating the government of his people. None knew better than 
 Napoleon the value of time, none knew how to employ it better ; 
 and in thus concentrating his troops in the capital of Russia, he 
 gave them an opportunity to collect the necessary supplies of 
 which they stood in need, and to snatch a few moments of rest, of 
 which they were in want ; in the meanwhile a hot pursuit of the 
 enemy was kept up by the cavalry. 
 
 Scarcely had he been well settled in the palace, than Napoleon 
 sent for me. He was pacing the room, dictating to an aid-de-camp 
 writing at the table, when I entered, and seeming much engaged, 
 I did not immediately accost him. Years had elapsed since I first 
 saw him in the Square at Mantua; nor had they passed lightly 
 over his head, for the marks of time were evident. Though his 
 figure had become fatter and broader, there was the usual restless¬ 
 ness of his manner considerably increased, and he took immense 
 quantities of snuff, which he ever and anon drew from the pocket 
 of his waistcoat. I could not help recalling to myself the many 
 campaigns I had served under him, the numerous times I had 
 followed him to victory; and if a doubt of our situation ever came 
 across my mind, it was quickly re-assured. He was undoubtedly, 
 the favoured child of fortune—would she desert him now ? 
 
 “ Gazzola,” said he, stopping short in his walk, and rousing me 
 from the reverie into which I had fallen, “ I like not these Rus¬ 
 sians ; let a strict watch be kept ; and above all, let the men 
 refrain from pillage. I feel I owe much to one who has served 
 me so long and well as you have done. I will name you as one 
 of my general officers, and on our return to France, should we be 
 permitted to arrive there, will make you a Baron of the Empire. 
 But remember the life of a soldier in an enemy’s country must 
 not be that of repose. Be watchful ; and when we meet again 
 you shall have no cause for regret.” He held out his hand, which 
 I respectfully pressed to my lips ; and though years of captivity 
 and misfortune have passed since then, I shall never forget that 
 moment: it was the last interview I ever had with Napoleon. 
 
 s 
 
i 96 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 CHAP. XLVIIi. 
 
 MOSCOW. 
 
 “ On Linden, wlipn the sun was low, 
 
 All bloodless lay th’ untrodden snow, 
 
 And dark as winter was the flow 
 Of Iver rolling rapidly. 
 
 But Linden showed another sight 
 When the drum beat at dead of night, 
 
 And fires of death began to light, 
 
 The darkness of her scenery. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1 little thought how soon the Emperor’s caution to be watchful 
 would be proved to be necessary. I was returning to my quarters 
 one night, after having gone the rounds, when suddenly my ear 
 was saluted by the sound of an alarm bell, and this was quickly 
 answered by several others. Every quarter of the city seemed in 
 motion, while large sheets of flame burst forth in various places, 
 throwing a lurid glare on the surrounding buildings, and illumi¬ 
 nating every part of the city. It was evidently on fire on all 
 sides, and as the alarm bells rung and drums were quickly put 
 in requisition, it was not long before every one was astir creating 
 a noise and confusion inconceivable. 
 
 The incendiaries, assisted by the convicts and other malefactors, 
 who had been let loose on purpose, had fired thefcity on all sides, 
 and being mostly built of wood, and a strong wind blowing at the 
 time, the flames fled from house to house with frightful rapidity. 
 All that men could effect to extinguish the flames was done, but 
 although in some quarters their efforts were partially successful, 
 the fire broke out anew in others, rendering the city a scene of 
 tumult and confusion. The Russians, many of whom, rather 
 than follow the army in its retreat, had hidden themselves in the 
 cellars and other secret places in their houses, were now driven 
 forth, and obliged to cast themselves on the mercy of the con¬ 
 querors. Napoleon, always indefatigable when engaged in suc¬ 
 couring the distressed, devoted himself to the relief of the wounded 
 Russians, who filled the hospitals, already abandoned by those to 
 whom the care belonged, and to such of the inhabitants as he 
 found in the streets, deprived of asylum or shelter. He decreed 
 the appointment of syndics, whose duty it was to search out all 
 the miserable creatures who were without habitations or the means 
 of subsistence. He opened houses of refuge to receive those who 
 had been burnt out, and promised them rations. He went to the 
 Foundling Hospital, which had escaped the flames, and, summoning 
 the director, General Toutolskin, engaged him to make a report 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 19? 
 
 to the Empress Mother, and to forward it by an estafette; but 
 this was never replied to. 
 
 Most of the hospitals had been saved from the flames, and to 
 these our especial care was devoted; but what was our astonish¬ 
 ment to find that few of them were provided with the necessary 
 succours, without medicines, firing, or attendants. We found an 
 immense quantity of dead and wounded, for of the twenty thousand 
 wounded Russians, more than one half had perished for want of 
 proper attendance, and the remainder bid fair to follow them. 
 Orders were dispatched to the different corps of the army—the 
 surgeons came pouring into the city—an administration was 
 quickly formed—the sick and wounded confided to their care were 
 removed to convenient places, while reports of their state were 
 drawn up and submitted to the Emperor. Food, furniture, money 
 in large sums were distributed with no niggard spirit, and the 
 wounded Russians blessed the hands that were thus stretched out 
 to save them from perishing when their own countrymen had 
 abandoned them to their fate. 
 
 Marshal Mortier, the governor, and General Milhaut, the 
 commandant, were charged with the organisation of a municipality 
 and an administratration of police, to restore order in the town 
 and provide the necessary supplies, while the Emperor placed fifty 
 thousand roubles in the hands of the syndics for the immediate 
 relief of the wants of the necessitous. 
 
 Many of the incendiaries had been caught, torch in hand, who 
 were taken before courts formed by the officers of the army, and 
 on being interrogated, one and all declared that they acted under 
 the orders of Rostopchlin, the Russian governor of Moscow. 
 Never was cruelty pushed to a greater extent; a paternal govern¬ 
 ment would hardly devastate its own plains, burn its own cities, 
 reduce to despair millions of its unoffending subjects ; such con¬ 
 duct would be inexcusable on the part of an enemy, and should 
 never be had recourse to by civilized nations. Its effects has been 
 to make the name of the ferocious tyrant who gave the order more 
 execrable than that of him who fired the temple of Diana of 
 Ephesus. 
 
 What end was obtained by the pusillanimous cruelty of the 
 Emperor Alexander in destroying Moscow and the other towns ? 
 He rendered them untenable by the French, it is true, but he 
 could not cut off our retreat ; that was provided for ere we 
 advanced, and the benefit bore no proportion to the incalculable 
 misery inflicted on his own people. He could not foresee the 
 early setting in of the frost, and but for that the disasters which 
 fell upon us had not occurred. 
 
 On the 18th of October the army resumed its march towards 
 Kalogha, a town 38 leagues to the south-east of Moscow, and on 
 the morrow Napoleon himself quitted the city with the Imperial 
 Guard, ordering Mortier to abandon the Kremlin on the 23rd, 
 after having destroyed its fortifications, and to take especial 
 
 s 2 
 
198 
 
 SCENES IN THE LITE OF 
 
 care that neither sick nor wounded were left behind. They 
 were to be carried in the waggons of the Young Guard, and, if 
 necessary, the cavalry was to be dismounted and marched on foot, 
 to afford the means of transport to their disabled comrades. 
 
 Here then may be said to have commenced our retreat, a retreat 
 memorable in the annals of the world for the immense destruction 
 of human life—the wholesale abandonment of troops, material, 
 and munitions of war. Never, in the history of warfare, was 
 anything equal to it. May posterity never gaze upon its like. 
 
 The army made two marches on the flanks, and each division, 
 as it arrived, took up its quarters at Borowsk. In the meanwhile 
 the enemy effected a grand movement, for the purpose of concen¬ 
 trating his force on the heights, which commanded the the little 
 town of Maloiarostawetz, situated on the Louja. Napoleon 
 manoeuvred some corps for the purpose of forcing the Russians 
 either to give battle, or to retire precipitately. Eugene had the 
 principal direction of the attack, and received orders so to tune 
 his movement as to allow Davoust to come up and take Kutusovv 
 in the rear. 
 
 On the night of the 23rd Kutusow established himself on 
 the heights. On the morrow a brisk cannonade opened, and the 
 action began. The town and the heights were taken and retaken 
 several times, till Napoleon, having put himself at the head of 
 Compans and Gerard’s divisions, Davoust debouched, and Eugene, 
 profiting by these circumstances, again drove the 'enemy from the 
 heights and the town, possession of which he succeeded in main¬ 
 taining. Napoleon expressed in lively terms his satisfaction at 
 witnessing the determined bravery of the Prince, and the 4th 
 division of the army under his command; and in the evening, 
 having reconnoitred the position of the enemy, gave orders that 
 the attack should be renewed on the morrow. But Kutusow 
 retired, having lost ten thousand men, killed, wounded, or taken 
 prisoners, and marched on Jonczarowo, which he hastily fortified, 
 thinking Napoleon would pursue him. But however the latter 
 might for one moment have contemplated such a thing, he quickly 
 abandoned his intention. The hope of conquest had failed, and 
 his whole energies were now directed to the preservation of his 
 men. He changed the direction of his march, and returned to the 
 great road towards Wiasma, for the purpose of covering Mortier, 
 and the convoys of wounded, sick, artillery, munitions, and camp 
 followers, which had been left exposed to the enemy, when he 
 marched on Kalogha. This movement was followed and checked 
 by the Russians commanded by General Miloradowitch, an officer 
 more vain than able ; but notwithstanding, on the 1st of November 
 we entered Wiasma, after having repulsed the enemy near Utitsa, 
 and continued our march to Smolensko, the rear guard constantly 
 on the alert to resist the attacks of the Cossacks, immense numbers 
 of whom hung upon our retreat, cutting off the stragglers. 
 
 On the 7th of November the frost set in with such intensity 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 199 
 
 that the Russians themselves seemed unable to bear up against it. 
 The population of these immense provinces, entirely destitute, 
 reduced to hide themselves in the mountains, the deserts, and the 
 woods, without habitations, clothing, or food, abandoned themselves 
 to their fate, many lying down and being frozen to death. The 
 Russian army faied no better than our own j but their losses even 
 then bore no proportion to their cruelties. 
 
 An armistice had been accorded, and Napoleon proposed peace ; 
 but this was not desired by Alexander, who, breaking his word, 
 carried his duplicity so far as to attack our advanced guard, then 
 established on the IS ara. There he was beaten back, and forced to 
 lepass the river in disorder; but notwithstanding this success, we 
 were obliged to continue our retreat. 
 
 CHAP. XLIX. 
 
 THE RETREAT. 
 
 “ Better to fall in arms before the foe, 
 
 And leave a lasting name, 
 
 Than, reckless of the heritage of fame, 
 
 Sink lowly down in bitterness of shame, 
 
 And waste without a blow.” 
 
 Sotlieby. 
 
 Thick and fast came the misfortunes of our retreating army, for 
 although when the enemy really showed a front and awaited our 
 attack we came off victorious, still the elements thinned our ranks 
 with greater rapidity than did the weapons of the Russians. For 
 some days the thermometer had stood from sixteen to eighteen 
 degrees below the freezing point ; the roads were like a sheet of 
 glass ; cavalry and artillery horses, as well as those of the baggage 
 waggons and other equipages, died by hundreds in a night, obliging 
 us to abandon the guns and other carriages to which they were 
 attached. Heaps of carcasses strewed the way ; men strayed from 
 the ranks, and, quietly lying down by the way side, “ slept the 
 sleep that knows no waking.” Harassed, dispirited, half-fed, and 
 less than half clothed, our men gave way to despair. Whole 
 regiments became totally disorganised, refusing to obey the orders 
 of their officers, and only uniting for one common cause when the 
 pursuing troops of the enemy became more daring, and charged 
 up to the very points of our bayonets. Then a feeling of their 
 former pride came across them, and the audacity of the Russians 
 was punished ; but, the excitement of the attack once passed away, 
 
 s 3 
 
200 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 they relapsed into their former state. In vain their officers endea¬ 
 voured to re-animate their drooping courage—in vain appeals were 
 made to their patriotism—in vain they were reminded of their 
 former successes, and conjured to struggle on; even the master 
 mind of Napoleon had lost its effect; and when on the 9th of 
 November we entered the town of Smolensko, our numbers had 
 diminished one half. The guard, however, preserved its well- 
 merited character, and mustered strongly, taking up their quarters 
 in the town and the faubourgs; the cavalry were quartered in the 
 villages between the road to Krasnoi and the Nieper ; the eighth 
 corps on the road to Elnia; the fifth on that of Mstislaw; the first 
 at Stughinwo; the fourth traversed the Wop ; while the third was 
 charged to defend the passage of the Nieper at Slapnerva. I 
 have said the different corps took up their positions, I should have 
 said the skeletons of the different corps, for to that they were 
 nearly reduced, and even these had hardly arrived ere they were 
 obliged to send to Smolensko for the means of subsistence. Here 
 we remained only a few days, and advanced on the road to 
 Minsk, but our difficulties were enhanced by the treason of Prince 
 Schwartzenberg, who commanded the Austrians, and failed to 
 oppose the Russian army, under Tchitchagow, which marched 
 on Minsk, to cut off our retreat and to destroy the magazines that 
 had been prepared for us. This he effected, and thus were our 
 miseries augmented. In addition to this, York and Massenbach, 
 both generals in the service of Prussia, abandoned us and passed 
 over to the enemy, glorying in the greatest act of baseness a 
 soldier can commit. Everything, in short,,seemed to combine 
 against us. The orders given by the Emperor to free the army 
 from the convoys of the sick and wounded which impeded its 
 advance as we arrived at Smolensko and AVilna, and to carry them 
 to Konigsberg, Dantzic, and Warsaw, were not obeyed. The 
 hospitals, the treasure, and the magazines were rendered unser¬ 
 viceable by the want of the necessary means of transport; and, 
 unwilling to abandon them, yet unable to carry them with us, 
 our embarrassment was increased, while the still excessive severity 
 of the weather augmented the work of destruction. 
 
 On the 14th we advanced, as yet ignorant of the fault of 
 Schwartzenberg, who had retired on Warsaw, while the Russian 
 general, having destroyed our magazines, had been reinforced by 
 the army of Moravia, and had taken up a position on the Beresina. 
 They awaited us in a ravine at Merlino, a village situated on the 
 great road, intending to cut off our retreat on Krasnoi ; but their 
 project being discovered, matters were so well ordered that we 
 opened a passage, and came off conquerors in the different skir¬ 
 mishes that took place, marching on Lyadi and Orsa, where we 
 arrived on the 19th. Unfortunately the rear-guard, under the 
 command of Ney, could neither force a passage nor turn the Rus¬ 
 sians, who, three or four times more numerous than his own force, 
 threatened the French with annihilation. 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 201 
 
 We gave them up for lost; but the intrepid Marshal, with 
 well-placed reliance on the valour of his troops, after having made 
 two or three ineffectual efforts to force a passage, turned on the 
 right towards the Neiper, and crossing that river on the ice at the 
 height of Gusinoe, joined the main body of the army at the very 
 moment when we had given them over. Napoleon, on hearing this 
 happy news, seized the officer whom Ney had sent to communi¬ 
 cate it by the two arms, and said to him, with the most lively 
 emotion—“Is this true ? are you quite sure?” The officer assuring 
 him of the truth of the news, the Emperor added—“ I have two 
 hundred millions of francs in my palace of the Tuileries, and 
 every one would I have sacrificed to save Marshal Ney.” 
 
 But, brave as were our chiefs, devoted as were some of the 
 troops, what could withstand the fury of the elements ? From 
 Smolensko to Orsa the cold destroyed men and horses by thou¬ 
 sands ; yet, spite of our loss, we had occasional brushes with the 
 enemy, and generally came off victorious. On the 17th, the 
 weather became a little warmer, and if it had not, not a man could 
 have lived to tell the tale ; but the relief was of little avail, for 
 again the rigour of the season returned, and the same scenes 
 occurred again and again. 
 
 No sooner had he arrived at Orsa, than the Emperor, without 
 taking a moment’s repose, busied himself in an endeavour to re¬ 
 store that order which the different engagements and the incle¬ 
 mency of the season had naturally deranged. He distributed an 
 extra quantity of rations, of arms and munitions of war, and 
 addressed us in one of his stirring orders of the day, reminding 
 the men that in leaving their regiments they sacrificed their 
 honour and the safety of the army. The desires of the Emperor 
 were in some measure accomplished, and many of those who 
 had quitted the ranks returned to their duty. Order and discipline 
 were in some measure restored ; we again showed a good front, 
 and advanced by forced marches towards the Beresina, where 
 we arrived on the 25th. 
 
 During the march from Moscow to this river, the different 
 corps of the army, though supporting each other, had acted 
 independently; now, however, the second corps joined that portion 
 of the main body which was under the command of Napoleon 
 himself, and with which he prepared to force the passage of the 
 river. 
 
 The various other corps had separated as they retreated, each 
 of them having suffered more or less severely by the harassing 
 pursuit of the Russians : with them, however, after leaving Smo¬ 
 lensko, we had nothing to do—each now more resembling an 
 independent army than different corps of the same force. 
 
202 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 i 
 
 CHAP. L. 
 
 THE PASSAGE OF THE EERESINA. 
 
 And nearer, fast and nearer 
 Doth the red whirlwind come ; 
 
 And louder still, and still more loud, 
 
 From underneath that rolling cloud, 
 
 Is heard the trumpet’s war-note proud, 
 
 The trampling and the hum. 
 
 And plainly, and more plainly 
 Now, through the gloom appears, 
 
 Far to left and far to right, 
 
 In broken gleams of dark blue light, 
 
 The long array of helmets bright, 
 
 The long array of spears. 
 
 Macaulay. 
 
 The grand army arrived on the height of Borisow, a small town 
 on the Beresina, on the road from Orsa to Minsk. Napoleon 
 determined to force a passage of the river, with the hope of 
 preventing the junction of Platow and Wittgenstein with Tchit- 
 chagow. In consequence, bridges were established at different 
 points, and Napoleon manoeuvred all his corps to deceive the 
 enemy, and conceal his true intentions. He raised sham batteries 
 opposite those of the Russians, and with great ostentation drew 
 together such materials as were necessary for the construction of 
 a bridge ; but while he made these preparations at Weslowo, and 
 his artillery traversed the causeways raised in the marshes, which 
 the thaw had rendered practicable, he himself superintended the 
 erection of the bridges he meant to use. When those on the right 
 were completed, Napoleon passed under his own eye the second 
 corps and the guard, and when the other bridges were finished 
 he crossed to the opposite side, and placed himself on the heights 
 at two hundred paces from the right bank, with the guard, to 
 protect the passage of the remainder of the troops, while the 
 second corps kept in check the troops of Admiral Tchitchagow. 
 
 The third and fifth divisions passed at once, and were ordered to 
 support the second. On the 26th and 27th the other corps, with 
 the camp followers and the women were left to cross, while Marshal 
 Victor, who had the command of the left of the army, took 
 position below Weslowo, where General Partouneaux ought to have 
 remained to support him till the night drew on. He marched too 
 soon, and falling between the corps of Platow and Wittgenstein, 
 was taken prisoner, with the greater part of his division. 
 
 In the night of the 28th Victor crossed the river, and there only 
 remained the carriages, baggage waggons, camp followers, infants 
 
A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 203 
 
 and old men and women in the plain of Weslowo ; or rather such 
 of them as had failed to cross the Beresina on the previous days. 
 At the approach of the Russians, these unhappy loiterers suddenly 
 threw themselves on the bridge of Studzianka, which gave way. 
 Who can describe the awful situation of those unfortunates that 
 were thus placed between the fire of the Russians and the river ? 
 Swollen beyond its usual size by the snow, the few who dared the 
 flood rather then remain, were rapidly swept away from before the 
 eyes of their countrymen, who left nothing undone to save them ; 
 but, alas ! our efforts were unavailing, and the number rescued 
 from a watery grave was trifling in comparison with those that 
 were lost. 
 
 At the same time that the enemy advanced on Victor on the 
 left bank, Tchitchagow having united different corps, briskly 
 attacked the second corps on the right bank, but they were sup¬ 
 ported by the third and fifth, who in turn were supported by the 
 guard, led by Napoleon in person. 
 
 In the charge of the guard, just before the army had achieved 
 the passage, I was struck with a musket ball in the leg, which, 
 passing through the fleshy part, killed the horse under me. 
 Stunned by the fall, and hampered by the carcase of the dead 
 animal, I know not how long I may have lain, when the sound of 
 voices roused me from my stupor, and a party of our men relieved 
 me from my situation, and carried me to a tent which had been 
 used as a temporary hospital. As the shades of evening approached, 
 I found that our troops, hard pressed by the Russians, had retired, 
 leaving 95 poor miserable objects to the mercy of our enemies, or 
 to that which proved as little merciful, the sharp biting frost of a 
 November night. 
 
 I could never rightly describe the horrors of that scene. Men 
 in every stage of life, from the trifling flesh wound to that mortal 
 one which left the vital fluid fast hurrying from the body, broken 
 limbs, broken heads, every description of wound that the casualties 
 of battle render common to army surgeons, was to be found here, 
 with not one of that meritorious body to rescue from the fangs of 
 death those whom the iron hand of war had partially spared. With¬ 
 out fire, or food, or clothing, thrown side by side, or upon each 
 other, as chance dictated, lay a number of miserable wretches, 
 who had once formed part of the elite of a victorious army, while 
 prayers, execrations, curses, loud cries for water, filled the air. 
 As night advanced the cold became more intense, and the voices 
 were gradually hushed. The pain from my wound was so severe 
 that I could not sleep, but, as good fortune would have it, the 
 party who had carried me in had thrown my cloak over me. 
 Wrapping this around me as well as I was able, I awaited the 
 dawn of day with feelings of more intense anxiety then I ever 
 before remember, for sleep was banished from my eyes, and the 
 frost had made hn attack upon my foot. 
 
 At length day came, and with it came the Russians. Of the 
 
204 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF 
 
 ninety-five men who were alive the night before but six survived, 
 and one of them died ere he could be removed. 
 
 I was now a prisoner, and notwithstanding my wound, was 
 soon made to feel that my lot was anything but a happy one. 
 Kind, pitying woman, however, proved my guardian angel; the 
 wife of one of the Russian soldiers payed me great attention, and 
 to her succour and humanity I owe the preservation of my life, 
 though even that could not preserve my toe. 
 
 When I was sufficiently recovered I was marched off with a 
 number of other prisoners into the interior, and there led a life of 
 suffering and hardship till Napoleon’s abdication in 1814 allowed 
 me to return to France. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by Knight and Arrowsmith, Chronicle Office, Worcester. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Hoyt 
 
 1C37