and what did we see? A fine fellow, very well turned out it is
true, but with his shako tipped over one ear, his sabre trailing
on the ground, his red face slashed by an immense scar,
moustaches six inches long, which, stiffened by wax, curled up
into his ears, two big plaits of hair, braided from his temples,
which, escaping from his shako, hung down to his chest, and with
all this an air...! An air of rakishness which was increased by
his speech, which was rattled out in a sort of Franco-Alsatian
patois. This last did not surprise my father, as he knew that the
1st Hussars were the former regiment of Bercheny, which in
earlier days recruited only Germans, and where, until 1793, all
the orders were given in German, which was the language generally
used by the officers and men, almost all of whom came from the
provinces bordering the Rhine. My father was however exceedingly
surprised by the style and manner of my proposed mentor.
I learned later that he had hesitated to put me in the hands of
this bravo, but M. Gault having reminded him that Colonel Picart
had described him as the best N.C.O.in the squadron, he decided
to try it. So off I went with Pertelay, who, taking me by the arm
without ceremony, came to my room, showed me how to pack my kit
into my valise, and conducted me to a small barracks, situated in
a former monastery, and now occupied by a squadron of the 1st
Hussars.
My mentor made me saddle and unsaddle the pretty little horse
which my father had bought me; then he showed me how to put on my
cloak and my arms, giving me a complete demonstration, and having
decided that he had explained to me all that was necessary, he
thought it time to go for dinner. My father, who wished me to eat
with my mentor, had given us extra money to meet the expense.
Pertelay took me to a small inn, which was crammed with Hussars,
Grenadiers and soldiers of every sort. We were served with a
meal, and on the table was placed an enormous bottle of red wine
of the most violent nature. Pertelay poured me a glassful. We
clinked glasses. My man emptied his and I raised mine without
putting it to my lips, for I had never drunk undiluted wine and I
found the smell of this liquid disagreeable. I admitted this to
my mentor, who shouted, in a stentorian voice, "Waiter! Bring
some lemonade for this boy who never drinks wine." A gale of
laughter swept through the room. I was mortified, but I could not
bring myself to taste this wine, and as I did not dare to ask for
water, I dined without a drink.
A soldier's apprenticeship has always been hard going. It was
particularly so at the time of which I write. I had, therefore,
some unhappy experiences to suffer. A thing I found unbearable
was the requirement to share my bed with another Hussar. The
regulations allotted only one bed for two soldiers. N.C.O.s alone
were allowed to have a bed each. On the first night which I spent
in the barracks, I had already gone to my bed when a tall,
ungainly Hussar, who arrived an hour after the others, approached
it, and seeing that it was occupied, he unhooked a lantern and
stuck it under my nose to examine me more closely. Then he got
undressed. As I watched him, I had no idea that he intended to
get in beside me; but I was soon disillusioned, when he said to
me roughly, "Shove over, conscript!" And got into the bed, taking
up three-quarters of it, and began to snore loudly. I was unable
to sleep a wink, largely because of the revolting odour arising
from a large package which my comrade had placed under the
bolster, to raise his head. I could not think what this could be,
so to find out, I slid my hand gently toward this object and
found it to be a leather apron impregnated with cobbler's wax,
which shoemakers use to treat their thread. My amiable bed
companion was one of the men employed by the regimental
bootmaker. I was so disgusted that I got up, got dressed, and
went to the stables where I bedded down on a heap of straw. The
next day I told Pertelay of my misadventure, and he reported it
to the sub-lieutenant commanding the platoon. He was a
well-educated man named Leisteinschneider (in German, a
stone-worker) who was later killed in action. He understood how
painful it must be for me to have to sleep with a bootmaker, and
he took it on himself to arrange for me to have a bed in the
N.C.O's room, something which pleased me greatly.
Although the revolution had produced a great relaxation in the
general turn-out of troops, the 1st Hussars had kept theirs
exactly as it was when they were Bercheny's Hussars; so except
for the physical differences imposed by nature, all troopers had
to resemble one another in their appearance, and as the regiments
of Hussars of that period had not only pig-tails, but long
plaited tresses which hung from their temples and turned-up
moustaches, it was the rule that everyone belonging to the
regiment must have moustache, pig-tail and tresses. Now, as I had
none of these things, my mentor took me to the regimental
wig-maker where I bought a false pig-tail and tresses, which were
attached to my own hair, already fairly long, as I had let it
grow since my enlistment. These embellishments embarrassed me at
first but I got used to them in a few days, and it pleased me to
imagine that they gave me the appearance of a seasoned trooper.
It was a different matter when it came to the moustache I had no
more of a moustache than a girl, and as a hairless face would
have spoiled the ranks of the squadron, Pertelay, as was the
custom of Bercheny, took a pot of black wax, and with his thumb
he gave me an enormous curling moustache, which covered my upper
lip and reached almost to, my eyes. The shakos of the time did
not have a vizor, so that, when I was on guard duty, or during an
inspection, when one has to remain perfectly still, the Italian
sun, shining hotly onto my face, sucked the moisture out of the
wax of which my moustache was made, and, as it dried it pulled at
my skin in a most disagreeable manner. However, I did not blink.
I was a Hussar! A word that had for me an almost magical
significance; besides which, having engaged in a military career,
I understood very well that my first duty was to obey the
regulations.
My father and part of his division were still in Nice, when we
heard of the events of the 18th Brumaire, the overthrow of the
Directorate and the establishment of the Consulate. My father had
too much contempt for the Directorate to regret its downfall, but
he feared that, intoxicated by power, General Bonaparte, after
re-establishing order in France, would not restrict himself to
the modest title of consul, and he predicted to us that in a
short time he would aim to become king. My father was mistaken
only in the title, four years later Napoleon made himself
emperor.
Whatever his misgivings about the future, my father congratulated
himself on not having been in Paris on the 18th Brumaire, and I
believe that had he been there he might well have opposed the
actions of General Bonaparte, but in the army, at the head of a
division facing the enemy, he was content to adopt the passive
obedience of the soldier. He even rejected proposals, which were
made to him by a number of generals and colonels, to march on
Paris at the head of their troops. "Who," he said to them, "will
defend our frontiers if we abandon them? And what will become of
France if, to the war against foreigners, we add the calamity of
civil strife?" By these wise observations he calmed down the
hot-heads; but he was, nonetheless, very disturbed by the coup
which had just taken place: he adored his country and would have
greatly preferred that it could have been saved without being
submitted to the yoke of a dictator.
I have said that my father's principle reason for making me
enlist as a lowly Hussar had been to rid me of the simple notions
of a schoolboy, which had not been changed by my short
acquaintance with the world of Paris. The result exceeded his
expectations, for living amongst swaggering Hussars, and having
as a mentor a sort of brigand who laughed at my innocence, I
began to howl with the wolves, and for fear that I might be
mocked for my timidity, I became a real devil. This, however, was
not enough for me to be accepted into a sort of brotherhood,
which under the name of the clique, had members in all the
squadrons the 1st Hussars.
The clique was made up of all the biggest rogues, but, at the
same time, some of the bravest men in the regiment. The members
of the clique supported one another against all opposition,
particularly in the face of the enemy. They called themselves the
Jokers, and recognised one another by a notch cut into the metal
of the first button on the right hand row of the pelisse and
dolman. The officers were aware of the existence of the clique,
but as its worst crimes were limited to the adroit theft of
chickens or sheep, or some trick played on the local inhabitants,
and as the Jokers were always at the forefront in any action,
they turned a blind eye. I was young and feckless, and I longed
desperately to belong to this raffish society, which I thought
would raise my standing amongst my comrades; but it was in vain
that I frequented the salle-d'armes to practice swordsmanship and
the use of the pistol and carbine, and that I dug my elbows into
anyone who got in my way: allowed my sabre to trail on the ground
and tipped my shako over one ear, the members of the clique
regarded me as a child and refused to admit me to their society.
However, an unforeseen event led to my being accepted
unanimously.
The army of Italy was at this time in Liguria and spread out on a
front of more than sixty miles in length, the right of which was
in the Gulf of Spezzia, beyond Genoa, and the left at Nice and
Var, that is to say on the frontier of France. We had, therefore,
the sea at our backs, and we faced Piedmont, which was occupied
by the Austrian army, from which we were separated by that branch
of the Apennines which runs from Var to Gavi: a bad position, in
which the army ran the risk of being cut in two, which, in fact,
happened some months later.
My father, having been ordered to concentrate his division at
Savona, a small town, by the sea, ten leagues towards France from
Genoa, set up his headquarters in the bishop's palace. The
infantry was spread out among the market towns and villages of
the neighbourhood to keep watch on the valleys from which emerged
the roads which led to Piedmont. The 1st Hussars, who had come
from Nice to Savona, were encamped on a plain known as the
Madona. The outposts of the enemy were at Dego, four or five
leagues from us, on the forward slopes of the Apennines, whose
summits were covered in snow, whereas Savona and its surroundings
enjoyed the mildest of climates.
Our encampment would have been delightful if the rations had been
more plentiful; but there was at that time no main road from Nice
to Genoa; the sea was covered by English warships, so the army
had to live on what could be brought by detachments of mules
along the Corniche, or by small boat-loads, which could slip
unnoticed along the coast. These precarious supplies were
scarcely enough to provide, from day to day, sufficient food to
support the troops; but, happily, the country produced plenty of
wine, which enabled them to bear their privations with more
resignation.
One fine day I was walking along the beach with my mentor when we
came on a "taverna," where there was a charming garden planted
with orange and lemon trees, under which were tables at which sat
soldiers of all kinds. He suggested that we went there, and
although I had never overcome my distaste for wine, I agreed,
simply to please him.
In those days the cavalryman's belt did not have a hook, so that
when we went on foot, it was necessary to hold up the scabbard of
the sabre with one's left hand, and one could allow the end to
trail on the ground. This made a noise on the pavement, and
looked rather dashing, so of course I had to adopt this way of
doing things. Thus it happened that as we went into this garden,
the end of my scabbard came in contact with the foot of an
enormous horse-gunner, who was sprawled on his chair with his
legs sticking out. The horse artillery had been formed at the
beginning of the revolutionary wars from men taken from the
companies of Grenadiers, who took advantage of the occasion to
get rid of their most troublesome characters. The men of the
flying artillery, as it was then called, were known for their
dash, but also for their love of quarreling.
The one whose foot the end of my scabbard had touched, shouted to
me in a very rude tone of voice, "Hussar, your sabre drags too
much!" I was going to walk on without saying any thing, when
master Pertelay, nudging me with his elbow, whispered, "Tell him
to come and lift it up." So I said to the gunner "Come and lift
it up then!" "That will be easy!" he replied. Then, at another
whisper from Pertelay, "I'd like to see you do it!" I said. On
these words, the gunner, or this Goliath, for he was at least six
feet tall, sat up straight with a threatening air... But my
mentor pushed himself between him and me. All the gunners who
were in the garden came to support their comrade, but a crowd of
Hussars gathered beside Pertelay and me. There was a lot of angry
shouting with everyone talking at once; I thought there was going
to be a general melee. However as the Hussars were in a majority
of at least two to one, they took the matter the more calmly,
while the gunners realised that if they started something they
would get the worst of it, so in the end the giant was made to
understand that in brushing his foot with my scabbard, I had in
no way insulted him, and that should be the end of the matter.
During the tumult, however, a trumpeter from the artillery, of
about twenty years of age, had offered me some insults, and in my
indignation I had pushed him so roughly that he had fallen into a
muddy ditch. It was agreed that this lad and I should fight a
duel with our sabres.
We left the garden, followed by all the assistants, and found
ourselves by the edge of the sea, on fine solid sand, ready for
battle. Pertelay knew that I was quite a good swordsman; however
he gave me some words of advice on how I should attack my
adversary, and fastened the hilt of my sabre to my hand with a
large handkerchief, which he rolled round my arm.
My father hated duelling. Not only because of his own conclusions
about this barbarous custom, but also, I believe, because in his
youth, when he was a member of the bodyguard, he had acted as
second for a comrade of whom he was very fond, and who was killed
in a duel over the most trivial matter. However that may be, when
my father took command, he ordered the police to arrest anyone
caught engaging in swordplay and bring them before him.
Although the trumpeter and I both knew of this order, we had,
nevertheless, taken off our dolmans and taken up our sabres. I
had my back to the town of Savona, my adversary was facing it,
and we were about to begin our combat when I saw the trumpeter
duck to one side, pick up his dolman and make off at top speed.
"Coward!....Runaway!" I shouted, and was about to, pursue him
when two iron hands grasped me by the collar. I turned my head
and found myself facing some eight to ten police! I understood
then why my antagonist had cleared off, followed by all the
assistants, including master Pertelay, whom I saw disappearing
into the distance, as fast as their legs could carry them, for
fear of being arrested and brought before the General.
There I was! Disarmed and a prisoner! I picked up my dolman, and
looking very sheepish, followed my captors, to whom I had not
given my name, as they led me to the Bishop's palace where my
father was installed. He was at that moment with General Suchet,
who had come to Savona to confer with him on service matters.
They were walking in a gallery which overlooked the courtyard.
The police put me up before General Marbot, without any idea that
I was his son. The sergeant explained why I had been arrested.
Then my father, looking very severe, gave me a lively dressing
down, after which admonition, he said to the sergeant, "Take this
Hussar to the citadel." I left without saying a word, and without
General Suchet, who did not know me, suspecting that the scene he
had just witnessed had taken place between a father and his son.
It was not until the next day that he learned the truth, and he
has often spoken to me since, with laughter, about the episode.
On my arrival at the citadel, an ancient Genoese building
situated near the harbour, I was locked into a big room lit by a
high window, which faced toward the sea. I recovered slowly from
my fright. The reprimand which I had received seemed to me to be
deserved; however I was less concerned at having disobeyed the
General than I was at having upset my father. I passed the rest
of the day sadly enough.
In the evening, an old ex-soldier of the Genoan force brought me
a jug of water, a piece of ration bread, and a bale of straw, on
which I lay down, without being able to eat. I could not go to
sleep; at first because I was too upset, and later because of the
arrival of some large rats, which ran about me and soon made off
with my piece of bread. I was lying in the dark, a prey to my sad
reflections, when, at about ten o'clock, I heard the bolts of my
prison being drawn and I saw Spire, my father's old and faithful
servant. He told me that after my despatch to the citadel, Capt.
Gault, Col. Menard, and all my father's officers had asked him to
pardon me. The General had agreed, and had sent him, Spire, to
find me and take the order for my release to the governor of the
fort. I was taken before the governor, General Buget, an
excellent man, who had lost an arm in battle. He knew me and was
very fond of my father. He felt it his duty, after giving me back
my sabre, to give me a long lecture, to which I listened
patiently, but which made me reflect that I would get a much
worse telling-off from my father. I did not have the courage to
face this and decided to evade it, if that were possible. At
last we were let out of the gates of the citadel. The night was
dark, and Spire went in front with a lantern. As we walked
through the narrow twisting streets, the good fellow, delighted
to be bringing me back, recounted all the comforts which would
await me at headquarters. "But," he said, "you must expect a
severe ticking-off from your father." This last remark put an end
to my doubts, and in order to let my father's anger cool off, I
decided it would be better not to appear before him for a few
days and that I would return to my bivouac at Madona. I could
easily have slipped away without playing any trick on poor Spire;
but fearing that he might be able to pursue me by the light of
his lantern, I gave it a kick which sent it flying ten paces from
him, and ran off while the good man, groping for his lantern,
shouted, "Ah...! You little blighter! I shall tell your father!"
After wandering for some time in the deserted streets, I found at
last the road to Madona, and made my way to the regimental camp.
All the Hussars thought I was in prison. As soon as one of them
recognised me by the light of the fires, I was surrounded and
questioned. There was much laughter when I described how I had
got away from Spire. The members of the clique were so satisfied
with my behaviour that they decided unanimously to admit me into
their society, which was preparing an expedition to go, that very
night, to the gates of Dego and steal a herd of cattle which
belonged to the Austrian army. The French Generals and even the
corps commanders were obliged to ignore these raids, which, in
the absence of regular rations, the soldiers carried out beyond
the advance posts in order to obtain food. In each regiment the
boldest soldiers had formed marauding bands who were marvellously
skilled at finding out where supplies were being assembled for
the enemy, and using ruse and audacity to lay hands on them.
A rascally horse-dealer had told the clique that a herd of cattle
which he had sold to the Austrians was in a meadow a quarter of a
league from Dego, and now sixty Hussars, armed only with their
carbines, were on their way to capture it. Avoiding the main
road, we went several leagues into the mountain by winding and
atrociously rough tracks. We surprised five Croats, who had been
left to guard the herd, asleep in a shed. To prevent them from
going to waken the garrison at Dego, we tied them up and left
them there. We drove away the herd without a shot being fired and
returned to the camp, tired out, but delighted to have played
such a successful trick on the enemy, and at the same time
acquired some food.
This event illustrates the already wretched condition of the army
of Italy, and demonstrates to what a state of disorganisation
such neglect will bring troops; whose officers are obliged not
only to tolerate these sort of expeditions, but to take advantage
of the supplies they procure without seeming to know whence they
come.
Chap. 9.
Happy in my military career, I had not even reached the rank of
corporal when I was raised immediately to that of sergeant. This
is how it came about.
On the left of my father's division was that commanded by General
Seras, whose headquarters were at Finale. This division, which
occupied the part of Liguria where the mountains are steepest,
was composed solely of infantry, the cavalry being unable to
operate, except in small detachments, on the few open spaces
which at this point separate the shore of the Mediterranean from
the mountains of Piedmont. General Seras, having been ordered to
push forward with the greater part of his division to reconnoitre
the area of Mount Santa-Giacomo, beyond which there were several
valleys, wrote to my father requesting the loan of a detachment
of fifty Hussars for this expedition; a request which could not
be turned down. So my father agreed and named Lt.
Leisteinschneider as commander of this detachment, of which my
platoon was a part.
We left Madona to make our way to Finale. There was, at that
time, only a very bad road along the sea coast, known as the
Corniche. The lieutenant badly injured his foot as a result of a
fall from his horse, and so the command passed to the next in
seniority who was a sergeant named Canon, a handsome young man,
capable and well-trained, and full of self-assurance.
General Seras, at the head of his division, advanced next day
onto the snow-clad slopes of Mount Santa-Giacomo, where we
encamped. He had intended to go forward the next day, with he
almost certain expectation of making contact with the enemy; but
in how great a number? On this subject the General had absolutely
no information, and as his orders from the commander-in-chief
were to reconnoitre the Austrian positions at this point of the
line, but not to engage in combat if he found the enemy in
strength, General Seras reflected that if he advanced his
infantry division into the middle of the mountains, where often
one could not see enemy troops until one found oneself face to
face with them at a bend in a gorge, he might be led, in spite of
his wishes, into a major battle against superior forces, and
obliged to carry out a dangerous retreat.
He decided therefore to proceed with caution, and to push out,
three or four leagues in front of him, an advance party which
could probe the country and, most importantly, take some
prisoners, from whom he hoped to get some information; for the
peasantry either knew nothing or would not talk. As a small body
of infantry would be endangered if he advanced them too far, and
as, also, men on foot would take too long to return with the
information which he so urgently needed, it was to the fifty
Hussars that he gave the task of going ahead and exploring the
terrain. Then, as the country was very broken, he gave a map to
our sergeant, briefed him, in front of the detachment and sent us
off, two hours before daylight, repeating that it was essential
that we went ahead until we made contact with the enemy outposts,
from which he would very much like us to capture a few prisoners.
Sergeant Canon managed his detachment according to the book. He
sent out a small advance-guard, put scouts on the flanks and took
all the precautions usual in partisan warfare. When we had gone
some two leagues from the camp, we came on a large inn. Our
sergeant questioned the inn-keeper and was told that, a good
hour's march away, was a body of Austrian troops, the size of
which he did not know, though he knew that the leading regiment
contained some very unpleasant Hussars, who had maltreated a
number of the local inhabitants.