The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot

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The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot
Translated by Oliver C. Colt

THE MEMOIRS OF GENERAL THE BARON DE MARBOT.

Translated by Oliver C. Colt

Volume 1.

Table of contents

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chap. 20. Augereau.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chap. 30. Jena. The Cure. Auerstadt. The behaviour of Bernadotte.

The entry into Berlin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oliver C. Colt

THE MEMOIRS OF GENERAL THE BARON DE MARBOT.

Translated by Oliver C. Colt

Chap. 1.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chap. 2.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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