Towards the end of March, 1800, five or six months after my entrance into
the service of Madame. Bonaparte, the First Consul while at dinner one
day regarded me intently; and having carefully scrutinized and measured
me from head to foot, "Young man," said he, "would you like to go with me
on the campaign?" I replied, with much emotion, that I would ask nothing
better. "Very well, then, you shall go with me!" and on rising from the
table, he ordered Pfister, the steward, to place my name on the list of
the persons of his household who would accompany him. My preparations
did not require much time; for I was delighted with the idea of being
attached to the personal service of so great a man, and in imagination
saw myself already beyond the Alps. But the First Consul set out without
me. Pfister, by a defect of memory, perhaps intentional, had forgotten
to place my name on the list. I was in despair, and went to relate, with
tears, my misfortune to my excellent mistress, who was good enough to
endeavor to console me, saying, "Well, Constant, everything is not lost;
you will stay with me. You can hunt in the park to pass the time; and
perhaps the First Consul may yet send for you." However, Madame
Bonaparte did not really believe this; for she thought, as I did,
although out of kindness she did not wish to say this to me, that the
First Consul having changed his mind, and no longer wishing my services
on the campaign, had himself given the counter orders. However, I soon
had proof to the contrary. In passing through Dijon, on his way to Mt.
St. Bernard, the First Consul asked for me, and learning that they had
forgotten me, expressed his dissatisfaction, and directed Bourrienne to
write immediately to Madame Bonaparte, requesting her to send me on
without delay.
One morning, when my chagrin was more acute than ever, Madame Bonaparte
sent for me, and said, holding Bourrienne's letter in her hand,
"Constant, since you have determined to quit us to make the campaign, you
may rejoice, for you are now about to leave. The First Consul has sent
for you. Go to the office of Maret, and ascertain if he will not soon
send a courier. You will accompany him." I was inexpressibly delighted
at this good news, and did not try to conceal my pleasure. "You are very
well satisfied to leave us," said Madame Bonaparte with a kind smile.
"It is not leaving Madame, but joining the First Consul, which delights
me."--"I hope so," replied she. "Go, Constant; and take good care of
him." If any incentive had been needed, this injunction of my noble
mistress would have added to the zeal and fidelity with which I had
determined to discharge my new duties. I hurried without delay to the
office of Maret, secretary of state, who already knew me, and had shown
his good-will for me. "Get ready at once," said he; "a courier will set
out this evening or to-morrow morning." I returned in all haste to
Malmaison, and announced to Madame Bonaparte my immediate departure. She
immediately had a good post-chaise made ready for me, and Thibaut (for
that was the name of the courier I was to accompany) was directed to
obtain horses for me along the route. Maret gave me eight hundred francs
for the expenses of my trip, which sum, entirely unexpected by me, filled
me with wonder, for I had never been so rich. At four o'clock in the
morning, having heard from Thibaut that everything was ready, I went to
his house, where the post-chaise awaited me, and we set out.
I traveled very comfortably, sometimes in the postchaise, sometimes on
horseback; I taking Thibaut's place, and he mine. I expected to overtake
the First Consul at Martigny; but his traveling had been so rapid, that I
caught up with him only at the convent of Mt. St. Bernard. Upon our
route we constantly passed regiments on the march, composed of officers
and soldiers who were hastening to rejoin their different corps. Their
enthusiasm was irrepressible,--those who had made the campaign of Italy
rejoiced at returning to so fine a country; those who had not yet done so
were burning with impatience to see the battlefields immortalized by
French valor, and by the genius of the hero who still marched at their
head. All went as if to a festival, and singing songs they climbed the
mountains of Valais. It was eight o'clock in the morning when I arrived
at headquarters. Pfister announced me; and I found the general-in-chief
in the great hall, in the basement of the Hospice. He was taking
breakfast, standing, with his staff. As soon as he saw me, he said,
"Here you are, you queer fellow! why didn't you come with me?" I excused
myself by saying that to my great regret I had received a counter order,
or, at least, they had left me behind at the moment of departure. "Lose
no time, my friend; eat quickly; we are about to start." From this
moment I was attached to the personal service of the First Consul, in the
quality of ordinary valet; that is to say, in my turn. This duty gave me
little to do; Hambard, the head valet of the First Consul, being in the
habit of dressing him from head to foot.
Immediately after breakfast we began to descend the mountain, many
sliding down on the snow, very much as they coast at the garden Beaujon,
from top to bottom of the Montagnes Russes, and I followed their example.
This they called "sledding." The general-in-chief also descended in this
manner an almost perpendicular glacier. His guide was a young
countryman, active and courageous, to whom the First Consul promised a
sufficiency for the rest of his days. Some young soldiers who had
wandered off into the snow were found, almost dead with cold, by the
dogs sent out by the monks, and carried to the Hospice, where they
received every possible attention, and their lives were saved. The First
Consul gave substantial proof of his gratitude to the good fathers for a
charity so useful and generous. Before leaving the Hospice, where he had
found tables loaded with food already prepared awaiting the soldiers as
soon as they reached the summit of the mountain, he gave to the good
monks a considerable sum of money, in reward for the hospitality he and
his companions in arms had received, and an order on the treasury for an
annuity in support of the convent.
The same day we climbed Mount Albaredo; but as this passage was
impracticable for cavalry and artillery, he ordered them to pass outside
the town of Bard, under the batteries of the fort. The First Consul had
ordered that they should pass it at night, and on a gallop; and he had
straw tied around the wheels of the caissons and on the feet of the
horses, but even these precautions were not altogether sufficient to
prevent the Austrians hearing our troops. The cannon of the fort rained
grape-shot incessantly; but fortunately the houses of the town sheltered
our soldiers from the enemy's guns, and more than half the army passed
without much loss. I was with the household of the First Consul, which
under the care of General Gardanne flanked the fort.
The 23d of May we forded a torrent which flowed between the town and the
fort, with the First Consul at our head, and then, followed by General
Berthier and some other officers, took the path over the Albaredo, which
overlooked the fort and the town of Bard. Directing his field-glass
towards the hostile batteries, from the fire of which he was protected
only by a few bushes, he criticised the dispositions which had been made
by the officer in charge of the siege of the fort, and ordered changes,
which he said would cause the place to fall into our hands in a short
time. Freed now from the anxiety which this fort had caused him, and
which he said had prevented his sleeping the two days he had passed in
the convent of Maurice, he stretched himself at the foot of a fir-tree
and took a refreshing nap, while the army was making good its passage.
Rising from this brief interval of repose, he descended the mountain and
continued his march to Ivree, where we passed the night.
The brave General Lannes, who commanded the advance guard, acted somewhat
in the capacity of quartermaster, taking possession of all the places
which barred the road. Only a few hours before we entered he had forced
the passage of Ivree.
Such was this miraculous passage of St. Bernard. Horses, cannon,
caissons, and an immense quantity of army stores of all kinds,
everything, in fact, was drawn or carried over glaciers which appeared
inaccessible, and by paths which seemed impracticable even for a single
man. The Austrian cannon were not more successful than the snow in
stopping the French army. So true is it that the genius and perseverance
of the First Consul were communicated, so to speak, to the humblest of
his soldiers, and inspired them with a courage and a strength, the
results of which will appear fabulous to posterity.
On the 2d of June, which was the day after the passage of the Ticino, and
the day of our entrance into Milan, the First Consul learned that the
fort of Bard had been taken the evening before, showing that his
dispositions had led to a quick result, and the road of communication by
the St. Bernard was now free from all obstructions. The First Consul
entered Milan without having met much resistance, the whole population
turned out on his entrance, and he was received with a thousand
acclamations. The confidence of the Milanese redoubled when they learned
that he had promised the members of the assembled clergy to maintain the
catholic worship and clergy as already established, and had compelled
them to take the oath of fidelity to the cisalpine republic.
The First Consul remained several days in this capital; and I had time to
form a more intimate acquaintance with my colleagues, who were, as I have
said, Hambard, Roustan, and Hebert. We relieved each other every
twenty-four hours, at noon precisely. As has always been my rule when
thrown into association with strangers, I observed, as closely as
circumstances permitted, the character and temper of my comrades, so
that I could regulate my conduct in regard to them, and know in advance
what I might have to fear or hope from association with them.
Hambard had an unbounded devotion for the First Consul, whom he had
followed to Egypt, but unfortunately his temper was gloomy and
misanthropic, which made him extremely sullen and disagreeable; and the
favor which Roustan enjoyed perhaps contributed to increase this gloomy
disposition. In a kind of mania he imagined himself to be the object of
a special espionage; and when his hours of service were over, he would
shut himself up in his room, and pass in mournful solitude the whole time
he was not on duty. The First Consul, when in good humor, would joke
with him upon this savage disposition, calling him Mademoiselle Hambard.
"Ah, well, what were you doing there in your room all by yourself?
Doubtless you were reading some poor romances, or some old books about
princesses carried off and kept under guard by a barbarous giant." To
which Hambard would sullenly reply, "General, you no doubt know better
than I what I was doing," referring in this way to the spies by which he
believed himself to be always surrounded. Notwithstanding this
unfortunate disposition, the First Consul felt very kindly to him. When
the Emperor went to camp at Boulogne, Hambard refused to accompany him;
and the Emperor gave him, as a place of retreat, the charge of the palace
of Meudon. There he showed unmistakable symptoms of insanity, and his
end was lamentable. During the Hundred Days, after a conversation with
the Emperor, he threw himself against a carving-knife with such violence
that the blade came out two inches behind his back. As it was believed
at this time that I had incurred the anger of the Emperor, the rumor went
abroad that it was I who had committed suicide, and this tragic death was
announced in several papers as mine.
Hebert, ordinary valet, was a very agreeable young fellow, but very
timid, and was, like all the rest of the household, devotedly attached to
the First Consul. It happened one day in Egypt that the latter, who had
never been able to shave himself (it was I who taught him how to shave
himself, as I shall relate elsewhere at length), called Hebert to shave
him, in the absence of Hambard, who ordinarily discharged that duty. As
it had sometimes happened that Hebert, on account of his great timidity,
had cut his master's chin, on that day the latter, who held a pair of
scissors in his hand, when Hebert approached him, holding his razor,
said, "Take care, you scamp; if you cut me, I will stick my scissors into
your stomach." This threat, made with an air of pretended seriousness,
but which was in fact only a jest, such as I have seen the Emperor
indulge in a hundred times, produced such an impression on Hebert, that
it was impossible for him to finish his work. He was seized with
a convulsive trembling, the razor fell from his hand, and the
general-in-chief in vain bent his neck, and said to him many times,
laughing "Come, finish, you scamp." Not only was Hebert unable to
complete his task that day, but from that time he had to renounce the
duty of barber. The Emperor did not like this excessive timidity in the
servants of his household; but this did not prevent him, when he
restored the castle of Rambouillet, from giving to Hebert the place of
concierge which he requested.
Roustan, so well known under the name of Mameluke, belonged to a good
family of Georgia; carried off at the age of six or seven, and taken to
Cairo, he was there brought up among the young slaves who attended upon
the mamelukes, until he should be of sufficient age to enter this warlike
militia. The Sheik of Cairo, in making a present to General Bonaparte of
a magnificent Arab horse, had given him at the same time Roustan and
Ibrahim, another mameluke, who was afterwards attached to the service of
Madame Bonaparte, under the name of Ali. It is well known that Roustan
became an indispensable accompaniment on all occasions when the Emperor
appeared in public. He was with him in all his expeditions, in all
processions, and, which was especially to his honor, in all his battles.
In the brilliant staff which followed the Emperor he shone more than all
others by the richness of his Oriental costume; and his appearance made a
decided impression, especially upon the common people and in the
provinces. He was believed to have great influence with the Emperor;
because, as credulous people said, Roustan had saved his master's life by
throwing himself between him and the saber of an enemy who was about to
strike him. I think that this belief was unfounded, and that the
especial favor he enjoyed was due to the habitual kindness of his Majesty
towards every one in his service. Besides, this favor affected in no
wise his domestic relations; for when Roustan, who had married a young
and pretty French girl, a certain Mademoiselle Douville, whose father was
valet to the Empress Josephine, was reproached by certain journals in
1814 and 1815 with not having followed to the end of his fortunes the man
for whom he had always expressed such intense devotion, Roustan replied
that the family ties which he had formed prevented his leaving France,
and that he could not destroy the happiness of his own household.
Ibrahim took the name of Ali when he passed into the service of Madame
Bonaparte. He was of more than Arabic ugliness, and had a wicked look.
I recall in this connection a little incident which took place at
Malmaison, which will give an idea of his character. One day, while
playing on the lawn of the chateau, I unintentionally threw him down
while running; and furious at his fall, he rose up, drew his poniard,
which he always wore, and dashed after me to strike me. I laughed at
first, like every one else, at the accident, and amused myself by making
him run; but warned by the cries of my comrades, and looking back to see
how close he was, I perceived at the same time his dagger and his rage.
I stopped at once, and planted my foot, with my eye fixed upon his
poniard, and was fortunate enough to avoid his blow, which, however,
grazed my breast. Furious in my turn, as may be imagined, I seized him
by his flowing pantaloons, and pitched him ten feet into the stream of
Malmaison, which was barely two feet deep. The plunge brought him at
once to his senses; and besides, his poniard had gone to the bottom,
which made him much less dangerous. But in his disappointment he yelled
so loudly that Madame Bonaparte heard him; and as she had quite a fancy
for her mameluke, I was sharply scolded. However, this poor Ali was of
such an unsocial temperament that he got into difficulties with almost
every one in the household, and at last was sent away to Fontainebleau,
to take the place of manservant there.
I now return to our campaign. On the 13th of June the First Consul spent
the night at Torre-di-Galifolo, where he established his headquarters.
From the day of our entry into Milan the advance of the army had not
slackened; General Murat had passed the Po, and taken possession of
Piacenza; and General Lannes, still pushing forward with his brave
advance guard, had fought a bloody battle at Montebello, a name which he
afterwards rendered illustrious by bearing it. The recent arrival of
General Desaix, who had just returned from Egypt, completed the joy of
the general-in-chief, and also added much to the confidence of the
soldiers, by whom the good and modest Desaix was adored. The First
Consul received him with the frankest and most cordial friendship, and
they remained together three consecutive hours in private conversation.
At the end of this conference, an order of the day announced to the army
that General Desaix would take command of the division Boudet. I heard
some persons in the suite of General Desaix say that his patience and
evenness of temper were rudely tried during his voyage, by contrary
winds, forced delays, the ennui of quarantine, and above all by the bad
conduct of the English, who had kept him for some time a prisoner in
their fleet, in sight of the shores of France, although he bore a
passport, signed by the English authorities in Egypt, in consequence of
the capitulation which had been mutually agreed upon. Consequently his
resentment against them was very ardent; and he regretted much, he said,
that the enemy he was about to fight was not the English.
In spite of the simplicity of his tastes and habits, no one was more
ambitious of glory than this brave general. All his rage against the
English was caused by the fear that he might not arrive in time to gather
new laurels. He did indeed arrive in time, but only to find a glorious
death, alas, so premature!
It was on the fourteenth that the celebrated battle of Marengo took
place, which began early in the morning, and lasted throughout the day.
I remained at headquarters with all the household of the First Consul,
where we were almost within range of the cannon on the battlefield.
Contradictory news constantly came, one report declaring the battle
completely lost, the next giving us the victory. At one time the
increase in the number of our wounded, and the redoubled firing of the
Austrian cannon, made us believe that all was lost; and then suddenly
came the news that this apparent falling back was only a bold maneuver of
the First Consul, and that a charge of General Desaix had gained the
battle. But the victory was bought at a price dear to France and to the
heart of the First Consul. Desaix, struck by a bullet, fell dead on the
field; and the grief of his soldiers serving only to exasperate their
courage, they routed, by a bayonet charge, the enemy, who were already
shaken by the brilliant cavalry charge of General Kellermann. The First
Consul slept upon the field of battle, and notwithstanding the decisive
victory that he had gained, was very sad, and said that evening, in the
presence of Hambard and myself, many things which showed the profound
grief he experienced in the death of General Desaix. He said, "France
has lost one of her bravest defenders, and I one of my best friends; no
one knew how much courage there was in the heart of Desaix, nor how much
genius in his head." He thus solaced his grief by making to each and all
a eulogy on the hero who had died on the field of honor.
"My brave Desaix," he further said, "always wished to die thus;" and then
added, almost with tears in his eyes, "but ought death to have been so
prompt to grant his wish?"
There was not a soldier in our victorious army who did not share so just
a sorrow. Rapp and Savary, the aides-de-camp of Desaix, remained plunged
in the most despairing grief beside the body of their chief, whom they
called their father, rather to express his unfailing kindness to them
than the dignity of his character. Out of respect to the memory of his
friend, the general-in-chief, although his staff was full, added these
two young officers in the quality of aides-de-camp.
Commandant Rapp (for such only was his rank at that time) was then, as he
has ever been, good, full of courage, and universally beloved. His
frankness, which sometimes bordered on brusqueness, pleased the Emperor;
and I have many times heard him speak in praise of his aide-de-camp, whom
he always styled, "My brave Rapp." Rapp was not lucky in battle, for he
rarely escaped without a wound. While thus anticipating events, I will
mention that in Russia, on the eve of the battle of La Moskwa, the
Emperor said, in my presence, to General Rapp, who had just arrived from
Dantzic, "See here, my brave fellow, we will beat them to-morrow, but
take great care of yourself. You are not a favorite of fortune."--"That
is," said the general, "the premium to be paid on the business, but I
shall none the less on that account do my best."
Savary manifested for the First Consul the same fervid zeal and unbounded
devotion which had attached him to General Desaix; and if he lacked any
of the qualities of General Rapp, it was certainly not bravery. Of all
the men who surrounded the Emperor, no one was more absolutely devoted to
his slightest wishes. In the course of these memoirs, I shall doubtless
have occasion to recall instances of this unparalleled enthusiasm, for
which the Duke de Rovigo I was magnificently rewarded; but it is just to
say that he did not bite the hand which rewarded him, and that he gave to
the end, and even after the end, of his old master (for thus he loved to
style the Emperor) an example of gratitude which has been imitated by
few.
A government decree, in the month of June following, determined that the
body of Desaix should be carried to the Hospice of St. Bernard, and that
a tomb should be erected on that spot, in the country where he had
covered himself with immortal glory, as a testimonial to the grief of
France, and especially that of the First Consul.