The Memoirs of General the Baron de Marbot

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The harbour at Brest held at that time not only a great number of
French vessels, but also the Spanish fleet, commanded by Admiral
Gravina, who was later killed at Trafalgar. When we arrived in
Brest, the two allied fleets were expected to take to Ireland,
General Bernadotte and a large invading force of French and
Spanish troops; but while we awaited this expedition,--which
never actually took place--the presence of so many army and naval
officers greatly animated the town of Brest. The
commander-in-chief, the admirals and several of the generals
entertained daily. The troops of the two nations mingled on the
best of terms, and I made the acquaintance of several Spanish
officers.

We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves at Brest, when the
commander-in-chief decided it would be a good idea to move his
headquarters to Rennes, a dismal town, but more in the centre of
his command. We had hardly arrived there when what I had foreseen
happened. The First Consul cut the number of aides-de-camp
allotted to the commander-in-chief. He was allowed only one
colonel, five officers of lower rank and no additional officers.
As a result I was told that I was to be posted to a regiment of
light cavalry. I would have resigned myself to this, if it had
been to return to the first Hussars, where I was known and whose
uniform I wore; but it was more than a year since I had left the
regiment, and I had been replaced, so I was ordered to join the
25th Chasseurs, who had just gone to Spain and were on the
frontier with Portugal around Salamanca and Zamora. I felt
increasingly bitter about the way I had been treated by General
Bernadotte, for without his false promises I would have been an
aide-de-camp to Messena and regained my place in the 1st Hussars.

So I was much discontented....But one must obey. Once I had got
over my resentment--which does not last long at that age--I could
not wait to get on the road and leave General Bernadotte, of whom
I thought I had good reason to complain. I had very little money.
My father had often lent money to Bernadotte, in particular when
he bought the estate of Lagrange; but although he knew that,
scarcely recovered from an injury, I was about to cross a large
part of France and all of Spain and, what is more, had to buy a
new uniform, he never offered to advance me a sou; and not for
anything in the world would I have asked him to do so. Very
luckily for me my mother had, at Rennes, an elderly uncle, M. de
Verdal of Gruniac, a former major in the infantry of Ponthievre,
with whom she had spent the first years of the revolution. This
old man was a little eccentric, but very good-hearted; not only
did he advance me the money which I desperately needed, but he
gave it to me out of his own pocket.

Although, at this period, the Chasseurs wore the same dolman as
the Hussars, theirs was green. I was foolish enough to shed a few
tears when I had to discard the Bercheny uniform, and renounce
the name of Hussar to become a Chasseur!

My farewell to General Bernadotte was somewhat cool; however he
gave me letters of introduction to Lucien Bonaparte, our
ambassador at Madrid, and to General Leclerc, our commander in
Portugal.

On the day of my departure, all the aides-de-camp joined me in a
farewell luncheon; then I set out with a heavy heart. I arrived
at Nantes after two days of travel, dog tired, with a pain in my
side, and quite sure that I would not be able to stand riding on
horseback the four hundred and fifty leagues which I had to cover
to reach the frontier of Portugal. By chance, however, I met in
the house of an old acquaintance from Soreze, who lived in
Nantes, a Spanish officer named Don Raphael, who was on his way
to join his regimental depot at Estramadura. We agreed to travel
together, and that I would be guide as far as the Pyrenees, after
which he would take over.

We went by stage-coach through the Vendee, where almost all the
market towns and villages still bore the marks of fire although
the civil war had been over for two years. These ruins made a
sorry spectacle. We passed through La Rochelle, Rochefort and
Bordeaux. From Bordeaux to Bayonne we rode in a sort of "Berlin"
which never went at faster than a walking pace over the sands of
Landes, so we often got out and walked alongside until we would
stop to rest under a group of pine trees. Then, sitting in the
shade, Don Raphael would take up his mandolin and sing. In this
way we took six days to reach Bayonne.

Before crossing the Pyrenees, I had to report to the general
commanding Bayonne. His name was General Ducos, an excellent man,
who had served under my father. Out of concern for my safety, he
wished to delay my entry into Spain for a few days, because he
had just heard that a gang of robbers had plundered some
travellers not far from the frontier. Even before the War of
Independence and the Civil Wars, the Spanish character, at once
both adventurous and lazy, had given them a noticeable taste for
brigandage, and this taste was encouraged by the splitting up of
the country into several kingdoms which once formed independent
states, each with its own laws, usages, and frontiers. Some of
these states imposed customs duties, some, such as Biscay and
Navarre, did not; and the result was that the inhabitants of the
customs-free countries constantly tried to smuggle dutiable goods
into those whose frontiers were guarded by lines of armed and
active customs officers. The smugglers, on their part, had, from
time immemorial, formed bands, which employed force when cunning
was insufficient, and whose occupation was not considered in any
way dishonourable by the majority of Spaniards, who saw it as a
just war against the imposition of customs. Preparing their
expeditions, collecting intelligence, posting armed guards,
hiding in the mountains, where they lie about smoking and
sleeping, such is the life of the smugglers, who, as a result of
the large profits to be made from a single operation, can live in
comfortable idleness for several months. However, when the
customs officers, with whom they have frequent skirmishes, have
been victorious and confiscated their goods, these Spanish
smugglers, reduced to extremes, think nothing of becoming
highwaymen, a profession which they pursue with a certain
magnanimity, since they never kill travellers, and always leave
them the means to continue their journey. They had just done as
much to an English family, and General Ducos, who wished to spare
us the disagreeable experience of being robbed, had for this
reason decided to delay our departure; but Don Raphael assured
him that he knew enough about the habits of Spanish robbers to be
certain that the safest time to travel in a province was just
after a gang had committed some offence, because they then
cleared off and hid for a while. So general Ducos allowed us to
leave.

Draught-horses were at this time unknown in Spain, where all
coaches, even the king's, were drawn by mules. There were no
stage-coaches, and in the post-houses nothing but saddle horses.
So that even the greatest of noblemen, who had their own coaches,
were forced when they travelled to hire harness mules and go by
short stages. The comfortably off took light carriages, which did
not go more than ten leagues a day. The ordinary people attached
themselves to caravanserais of donkey-men, who carried baggage in
the same way as our carters, but no one travelled alone, partly
for fear of robbers, and partly because of the mistrust with
which a solitary traveller was regarded. After our arrival in
Bayonne, Don Raphael, who was now in charge, said to me that as
we were not such grandees that we could hire a coach, nor so poor
that we had to join the donkey-men, there remained only two
possibilities, either we rode on horseback or we took a seat in a
carriage. Travelling on horseback, of which I have done so much,
did not seem suitable, as we would have no means of carrying our
baggage, so it was decided that we should go by carriage.

Don Raphael bargained with an individual who agreed to take us to
Salamanca for 800 francs a head, and to lodge us and feed us on
the way, at his own expense. This was double what a similar
journey would have cost in France, and I had already spent a lot
of money to get to Bayonne; but that was the price, and as there,
was no other way for me to join my new regiment, I had to accept.

We left in an enormous and ancient four-wheeled carriage, in
which three of the seats were occupied by a citizen of Cadiz, his
wife and daughter, while a Benedictine Prior from the university
of Salamanca completed the party.

Everything was new to me on this trip. Firstly, the harnessing,
which greatly surprised me. The team consisted of six splendid
mules, of which, to my astonishment, only the two on the shaft
had bridles and reins, the remaining four went freely, guided
only by the voices of the coachman and his "Zagal" who, agile as
a squirrel, sometimes went for more than a league on foot,
running beside his mules, which were at full trot, then, in a
blink of an eye he would climb up on to the seat beside his
master, only to get down and then up again; which he did twenty
times a day; going round the coach and the harness to make sure
that nothing was out of order, and while doing all this, singing
to encourage his mules, each one of which he called by name. He
never struck them, his voice alone being enough to urge on any
mule which was not pulling its weight.

These activities, and in particular the man's singing, I found
most entertaining. I also took a lively interest in what was said
in the coach, for, although I did not speak Spanish, what I knew
of Italian and Latin enabled me to understand much of what my
fellow passengers were saying, to whom I replied in French, which
they understood reasonably well. I did not smoke, but the five
Spaniards, even the two ladies and the monk, soon lit up their
cigars. We were all in good spirits. Don Raphael, the ladies, and
even the fat monk sang together.

Normally we left in the morning. We stopped from one o'clock to
three, to dine, rest the mules, and allow the heat of the day to
pass, during which time one slept; what the Spanish call the
siesta. Then we went on to our night stop. The meals were
sufficiently plentiful, but the Spanish cuisine seemed to me, at
first, to taste awful, however I got used to it; but I could
never have got used to the horrible beds which we were offered at
night in the pousadas or inns. They were really disgusting, and
Don Raphael, who had just spent a year in France was forced to
agree. To avoid this unpleasantness, on the first day of my
arrival in Spain, I asked if I could sleep on a bale of straw.
Sadly, I discovered that such a thing as a bale of straw was
unknown in Spain, because, instead of threshing the sheaves of
corn they have them trampled under foot by mules, which breaks
the straw into short bits, scarcely as long as a finger. But I
had the bright idea of filling a large cloth sack with this short
straw, which I placed in a barn and slept on covered by my cloak;
thus avoiding the vermin with which the beds and the rooms were
infested. In the morning I emptied the sack and put it in the
coach and each evening I refilled it so that I had a clean
palliasse. Don Raphael followed my example.

We crossed the provinces of Navarre, Biscay and Alava, country of
high mountains; then we crossed the Ebro and entered the immense
plains of Castile. We passed through Burgos and Valladolid, and
arrived, at last, after a journey lasting fifteen days, at
Salamanca.

There, not without regret I parted from my good travelling
companion, whom I was to meet once more in the same part of the
world, during the War of Independence. General Leclerc was at
Salamanca. He received me kindly, and even proposed that I should
stay with him as a supernumerary aide-de-camp, but my recent
experience had taught me that although the post of aide-de-camp
offers one more freedom and comfort than regimental duty, this is
only when one is on the establishment. As a supernumerary you are
landed with all the unpleasant jobs, and you have only a very
precarious position. I therefore turned down the favour which I
was offered and asked to go and join my regiment. It was a good
thing that I took this step, because, the following year, the
general, having been given the command of the expedition to Santa
Dominica, took with him, on his general staff, a lieutenant who
had accepted the post which I had turned down, and all these
officers and the general died of yellow fever.

I joined the 25th Chasseurs at Salamanca. The colonel was M.
Moreau, an old officer and a very fine fellow. He gave me a warm
welcome, as did my new comrades; and in a few days I was on the
best of terms with everybody. I was introduced to the town's
society, for at that time the presence of the French was highly
acceptable to the Spanish, and completely opposite to what it
became later. In 1801 we were their allies. We had come to fight
for them against the Portuguese and the English, so we were
treated as friends. The French officers were billeted with the
wealthiest inhabitants and there was competition to have them. We
were received everywhere. We were overwhelmed by invitations.
Being thus admitted into the family life of the Spaniards, we
learned more, in a short time, about their way of living than
officers who came to the peninsula during the War of Independence
could have learned in several years.

I was billeted in the home of a university professor, who had
given me a very nice room looking out onto the handsome Salamanca
square. My regimental duties were not very onerous and left me
plenty of leisure time, which I used to study the Spanish
language, which is, in my opinion, the most elegant and beautiful
in Europe. It was at Salamanca that I saw, for the first time,
the famous General Lasalle. He sold me a horse.

The fifteen thousand French troops sent to Spain with General
Leclerc formed the right wing of the Spanish Grand Army, which
was commanded by the "Prince de la Paix" and we were therefore
under his orders. This man (Emmanuel Godoy) was the queen's
favourite and was, in effect, the king. He came to revue us on
one occasion. He seemed to me to be very pleased with himself,
and although he was small and undistinguished looking, he was not
lacking in charm and ability.

Godoy started the army moving, and our regiment went to Toro and
then to Zamora. I was sorry to leave Salamanca at first, but we
were as well received in other towns, particularly in Zamora,
where I stayed in the house of a rich merchant who had a superb
garden, where a numerous society would gather in the evenings to
make music and pass part of the night in conversation amid groves
of pomegranates myrtles and lemon trees. It is difficult to
appreciate fully the beauties of nature if one has not
experienced the delicious nights of the southern countries.

We had, however, to tear ourselves away from the pleasant life
which we were leading to go and attack the Portuguese. We crossed
the border: there were a few small engagements which all went our
way: the French troops went to Viseu, while the Spanish came down
the Tagus and reached Alantejo: we expected to enter Lisbon soon,
as conquerors. But the Prince de la Paix, who had, without much
reflection, called the French troops into the peninsula, now,
also without much reflection, took fright at their presence, and
to get rid of them he concluded, without the knowledge of the
First Consul, a peace treaty with the Portuguese, which he
cunningly had ratified by the French ambassador, Lucien
Bonaparte. This greatly annoyed the First Consul, and caused,
from that day, a rift between the two brothers.

The French troops stayed for several months longer in Portugal,
until the beginning of 1802; then we returned to Spain and
successively to our previous charming stations of Zamora, Toro
and Salamanca, where we were always made welcome.

On this occasion I went through Spain on horseback with my
regiment, and had no longer any need to avoid the verminous beds
of the pousadas, since we were lodged each evening with the most
respectable citizens. A route march, when one makes it with one's
own regiment and in good weather, is not without a certain charm.
One has a constant change of scene, without being separated from
one's comrades; one sees the countryside in the greatest detail;
we talk as we travel, we dine together, sometimes well, sometimes
badly, and one is in a position to observe the customs of the
inhabitants.

One of our pleasures was to watch in the evenings the Spaniards,
shedding their usual lethargy, dance the fandango and the bolero
with a perfection of grace and agility, even in the villages.
The colonel offered them the use of his band, but they, quite
rightly, preferred the guitar, the castanets, and a woman's
voice; an accompaniment which gave the dance its national
characteristics. These improvised dances, in the open air,
engaged in by the working class in the towns as well as in the
country, gave us so much pleasure, even as spectators, that we
were sorry to leave them.

After more than a month on the road, we recrossed the Bidassoa,
and although I had happy memories of my stay in Spain, it was
with pleasure that I saw France once more.

Chap. 16.

At this period, regiments were responsible for their own
remounts, and the colonel had been authorised to buy sixty horses
which he hoped to procure, bit by bit, in French Navarre, while
he was taking the regiment to Toulouse, where we were to form the
garrison. But, for my sins, we arrived at Bayonne on the day of
the town fair, and the place was full of horse-copers. The
colonel arranged a deal with one of them, who provided all the
horses the unit needed straight away. The dealer could not be
paid immediately because the funds provided by the ministry would
take a week to arrive. The colonel then ordered that an officer
should remain behind in Bayonne, to receive this money and pay
the supplier. I was picked for this wretched task, which landed
me later in a most disagreeable situation, though at the time I
saw only that I had been deprived of the pleasure of travelling
with my comrades. However, in spite of my feelings, I had to obey
orders.

To make it easier for me to rejoin the unit, the colonel decided
that my horse should go with the regiment, and that after I had
completed my mission, I should take the stage-coach to Toulouse.
I knew several former pupils from Soreze who lived in Bayonne and
who helped me to pass the time agreeably. The funds provided by
the ministry arrived and I paid them out and was now free from
all responsibility and ready to rejoin my regiment.

I had a cotton dolman, braided in the same material, and with
silver buttons. I had had this strange costume made when I was on
Bernadotte's staff, since it was the fashion there to wear this
uniform when travelling in hot weather. I decided to wear this
outfit on the journey to Toulouse, as I was not with my regiment,
so I packed my uniform in my trunk and took it to the
stage-coach, where I booked my seat and, unfortunately, paid in
advance.

The coach was due to leave at five in the morning, so I told the
porter at the hotel where I was staying to come and waken me at
four, and the rascal having promised to do so, I went to bed
without further ado. But he forgot; and when I opened my eyes,
the sun was shining into the room and it was after eight
o'clock...! What a disaster...! I was dumbfounded, and having
cursed and upbraided the negligent porter, I had to think what I
could do. The first difficulty was that the stage-coach ran only
every second day, but that was not the major problem, which was
that though the regiment had paid for my seat because I was on
duty, they were not obliged to pay twice, and I had been stupid
enough to pay for the whole journey in advance; so that if I took
a new seat it would be at my own expense. Now at this time
stage-coach fares were very costly, and I had very little money,
and also, what was I to do for forty-eight hours in Bayonne, when
all my belongings were on the coach...? I resolved to make the
journey on foot.

I left the town without delay, and set off bravely on the road to
Toulouse. I was lightly clad, and had nothing but my sabre, which
I carried on my shoulder, so I covered the first stage briskly
enough and spent the night at Peyrehorade.

The next day was a day of disaster. I intended to go as far as
Orthez, and had already made half the journey when I was
overtaken by one of these terrible storms which one has in the
Midi. Rain mixed with hail fell in torrents, beating on my face;
the road, already bad, became a morass in which I had the
greatest difficulty in walking in boots with spurs; a chestnut
tree near to me was struck by lighting.... No matter, I walked on
with stoic resignation. But, behold....! In the midst of the
storm I saw coming toward me two mounted gendarmes. You can
easily imagine how I looked after paddling for two hours in the
mud, dressed in my cotton breeches and dolman. The gendarmes
belonged to the station at Peyrehorade, to which they were
returning, but it seemed that they had lunched very well at
Orthez, for they were somewhat drunk. The older of the two asked
me for my papers; I gave him my travel permit, on which I was
described as a sous-lieutenant of the 25th Chasseurs. "You! A
sous-lieutenant?" shouted the gendarme, "you're too young to be
an officer!" But read the description," I said, "and you will
see that it says that I am not yet twenty years old. It is exact
in every point." "That may be," he replied, "but it is a forgery;
and the proof of that is that the Chasseur's uniform is green and
you are wearing a yellow dolman. You are an escaped conscript,
and I am arresting you." "All right," I said, "but when we get to
Orthez and I see your lieutenant, I can easily prove that I am an
officer and that this travel document is genuine."

I was not much worried by this arrest; but now the older gendarme
said that he did not intend to go to Orthez. He belonged to the
station at Peyrehorade, and I must follow him there. I said that
I would do nothing of the kind, and that he could require this
only if I had no papers, but as I had shown him my travel permit,
he had no right to make me go back, and that it was his duty,
according to the regulations, to accompany me to my destination,
which was Orthez.

The younger gendarme, who was less full of wine, said that I was
right. A lively dispute then broke out between the two of them.
They hurled insults at one another and in the middle of the
tempest which was all around us, they drew their sabres and
charged furiously together. I was afraid I might be injured in
this ridiculous combat, so I got into one of the huge ditches
which ran along each side of the road, and although I was in
water up to my waist, I climbed up onto the bordering field, from
where I watched the two warriors skirmishing to get the better of
one another.

Fortunately, the heavy, wet cloaks which they were wearing clung
round their arms, and the horses, frightened by the thunder,
would not go near each other, so that the riders could manage
only a few ill directed blows. Eventually the older gendarme's
horse fell, and he landed in the ditch. When he got out,covered
in mire, he found that his saddle was broken and that he would
have to continue his journey on foot; so he set out, after
telling his companion that he was now responsible for the
prisoner. Left alone with the more sensible of the two gendarmes,
I pointed out to him that if I had anything to hide, it would be
easy for me to make off into the country, as there was a large
ditch between us which his horse could not cross, but that I
would surrender myself to him since he had agreed not to make me
go back. So I continued on my way, escorted by the gendarme, who
was beginning to sober up. We had some conversation, and it
became apparent that the fact that I had surrendered, when it
would have been easy for me to run away, made him begin to think
that I might be what I said I was. He would have let me go had he
not been put in charge of me by his companion. He became more and
more accommodating, and said he would not take me all the way to
Orthez, but would consult the Mayor of Puyoo, which we were going
to pass through.

My arrival was that of a malefactor: all the villagers, who had
been driven back to the village by the storm, were at their doors
and windows to see the criminal in the charge of the gendarme;
however, the Mayor of Puyoo was a good, stout, sensible peasant,
whom we found in his barn, threshing corn. As soon as he had read
my travel permit, he said, gravely, to the gendarme, "Set this
young man at liberty at once. You have no right to arrest him. An
officer on a journey is designated by his documents, not by his
clothes." Could Solomon have produced a better judgement? The
good peasant did not stop at that, he wanted me to stay with him
until the storm had passed and he offered me food. Then, while we
were talking, he told me that he had once seen at Orthez a
general whose name was Marbot. I told him that this was my
father, and described him. Then the good man, whose name was
Bordenave became even more solicitous and wanted to dry my
clothes and offered me a bed for the night; but I thanked him and
went on my way to Orthez, where I arrived at nightfall,
completely worn out. The next day it was only with great
difficulty that I could put my boots on, partly because they were
wet and partly because my feet were swollen.