Recollections of an officer of Napoleon's army

Introduction

Elzear Jean Louis Joseph Blaze, soldier and writer, was born at Cavaillon, France, in 1788 and died In Paris in 1848. He was a pupil of the Fontainebleau Military School and as a member of the Grande Armee took part In the Campaigns of Prussia, 1807; Austria, 1809; Spain, 181 1; Russia, 1812; Saxony, 18 13; and In the investment of Hamburg, 18 14. He continued in the army until the Restauratlon at which time he retired with the rank of captain. As a writer he has left us a half dozen or more works on hunting, and his Vie Militaire sous I'Empire, ou Mceurs de Garnison, de Bivouac et de Caserne, which book Is here presented under the title of Recollections of an Officer of Napoleon's Army.

Although the Empire of the great Napoleon Is the epoch about which the greatest number of memoirs have been written, yet it is not necessarily the best known. The Memoirs of the Marshals

INTRODUCTION

of the Empire were those first published, then came those of the generals, and lastly those of the subaltern officers.

In a book full of spirit and of a kind of Southern humour, from which part of France he came, Captain Blaze gives us the plain, straightforward story of the experiences in the field of one of Napoleon's soldiers. Having served in the army from 1806 to the Restauration, Blaze is in a position to give us particularly valuable information. From Friedland to Wagram, having won the rank of captain, he remained, out of liking for military life, in direct contact with the troopers. A wideawake and judicious observer. Blaze describes the soldier without flattery. His is a most precious contribution to the study of the soldier of the Empire whose disappointments and hopes he shared.

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Emperor in the Uniform of a Grenadier . Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

Alexander First, Emperor of Russia 46

The Battle of Eylau 66

The Battle of Austerlitz 118

Murat 132

Napoleon at Tilsit 158

"Vive L'Empereur" 214

Frederick William Third, King of Prussia 228

THE FONTAINEBLEAU MILITARY SCHOOL

RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OFFICER OF NAPOLEON'S ARMY

Chapter I The Fontainebleau Military School

During the Empire, one could enter the service in three different ways: one could enlist, it was the simplest and least expensive way; one could enroll in the velites,^ or else enter the Fontainebleau Military School as a pupil.

The Fontainebleau Military School opened its doors for 1,200 francs a year, but the crowd of young men blocked them ; everyone could not enter. Those who had not the time to await their turn of admission entered the velites; it was a harder way, one won the epaulet with greater difficulty, but he wore a uniform sooner; at eighteen that meant something.

One must have been a soldier at that time to understand what magic there was in a uniform.

What a vision of a glorious future there was irt every young head wearing a plume for the first time I Every French soldier carried his baton of marshal of France in his cartridge-box ; it was only a question of getting it out. We saw nothing difficult in that ; to-day I even think that at that time we would not have limited to that our ambitious dreams.

One thing worried us. " The devil I " we said, " suppose Napoleon should stop when in so fine a way. If he should conceive the unhappy idea of making peace, farewell to all our hopes." Fortunately our fears were not realised, for he cut out more work for us than we were able to perform.

Two weeks after my arrival, I had worked so well that I was considered worthy of mounting guard for the first time. Once installed at the post, the old soldiers who happened to be with me made the enumeration of all the young velites who, In a position equal to mine, had paid for their welcome by treating their comrades at a neighbouring inn. Such a one had done things in fine style; another had behaved like a pekin, he had hardly given enough to drink ; one had entertained lavishly: fresh pork-chops, sealed wine, coffee, liqueurs. ... I then decided that I should do as the last mentioned.

That day I wrote my name on the walls, behind the sentry-box, with my bayonet; chance having lately led me to the gate of the Champ-de-Mars, I tried to see If I could still read it; after having sought for a long time, I finally found it all covered with moss. The guard-house luncheon came back to my mind with all its joyous circumstances. Is there left another guest beside me, said I, thinking of all the events that had followed one another In the interval of thirty years. If some old soldier had shown his face burned by the sun of the Pyramids, I should have embraced him heartily ; oh ! the good dinner we should have had together !

Many velites found the soldier's life tedious: to become officers sooner, they went to the Fontainebleau Military School; I was among the latter. My turn came to go to Fontainebleau. . . . I departed. I was then obliged to recommence my education: in the velites we had mounted drills, there we drilled on foot; from the carbine I had to change to the musket. That was a small matter.

In the imperial guards the hair was worn short in front, and the queue in the back; at the military school we wore the forelock without queue; so that for six months, cut in front or cut in the back, I was always cut; my head remained bald and much resembled that of a choir boy.

General Bellavenne was governor of the Fontalnbleau Military School. All those who have known him can say that the place seemed to have been created for him. We considered him strict, but we were wrong; when one has six hundred eighteen-year-old heads to lead, it is difficult to do so without being strict. His alter ego, the brave Kuhmann, seconded him capitally. This epithet of brave had been given him by a man who was a judge, by Napoleon himself. He was a good, excellent Alsatian, who mangled the French language, a stickler on discipline, and thinking only of drills. I can still see him on the threshold of his door, at the moment when the battalion took their arms, making himself taller by three Inches, and shouting: " Heads erect, heads erect; immobility in the most beautiful part of the drill! "

At five In the morning, the drum awoke us. The courses in history, geography, mathematics, drawing and fortifications kept us busy from hour to hour; change of work was our relaxation and, to vary our pleasures, four hours of drill, cleverly arranged, divided our day in a most agreeable manner; so that on going to bed, we had our heads full of the heroes of Greece and Rome, of rivers and mountains, of angles and tangents, of trenches and bastions. All these things were a bit mixed In our minds, the drill alone was positive; our shoulders, our knees, and our hands prevented us from mixing it with the rest.

Novels were prohibited at the military school: one of our ofiicers held them in horror. When he walked through the study-rooms, he confiscated everything that looked to him like a novel. He knew the titles of the books we were supposed to have, the remainder was reputed novels, forbidden, and confiscated for good.

The pupils were expected to know Latin; it was not taught at the school; consequently Virgil was not on our officer's list; one evening, in the study room, I was reading the " ^Eneid " ; he stepped behind me, and seized my book as a vulture would carry away a nightingale.

" Another novel! " he exclaimed with a triumphant air.

" You are mistaken, it Is Virgil."

" What does that Virgil talk about? "

" Of the siege of Troy, of wars, of battles

" Troy ! Troy ! It is fabulous ; another novel, didn't I say so! Read VEcole de Peloton (the platoon school) ; that's the best book to form the youth. If you need diversion. Imitate your neighbour. He is acquiring knowledge, he Is a young man who employs his time usefully; If he stops the reading, and mighty Interesting reading It Is, of the roster of 1791, it Is to take up books of philosophy ; he does not waste his time, as you do, in reading twaddle." And my neighbour was reading Therese Philosophe, a book anything but philosophical.

" See how sharp all those pupils are ! To baffle me, they have novels printed In ciphers." This is what our good officer used to say as he confiscated the Tables of Logarithms.

Our mess at the school was the same as that of the soldiers at the barracks : army-bread, and bean alternating with lentil soup ; it was the necessary without extra, as you see. The bringing in of all sorts of dainties was prohibited. Young people are greedy, and our minds were always strained in inventing new ways of smuggling. The door keeper, a most strict custom's man, seized everything that had the least resemblance to dainties; they were not taken with the idea of sending them back, but were retained by him, and the Lord knows how watchful he was !

Once a week we went into the forest of Fontainebleau, either to draw plans, or for the cannon manoeuvres. The artillery officers or professors of mathematics with whom we were on those days, much more indulgent than the officers detailed to keep order in the school, permitted us to patronise a swarm of pastry-cooks and miscellaneous food venders who surrounded us with baskets filled with good things, the prices of which soared as the supply decreased.

Just as those who go outside of the barriers to get tipsy, we were unable to bring in anything fraudulently except in our stomachs. On returning we were always examined by piercing eyes, searched by clever hands, and the smugglers were punished. Nevertheless it was disagreeable, after having had poultry, pates and ham ad libitum during one day, to go back the next day to a dish of plain lentils. The difference was enormous, much too decided; to allow of its disappearing by gradual and insensible changes, and to prolong our gastronomic enjoyments, I invented the pates de giherne. This sublimity drew to me from my comrades the most flattering compliments and placed my name among those of the benefactors of the school.

You may or may not know how a giherne (cartridge-box) is constructed: it is a leather box containing a piece of wood pierced with holes to receive the cartridges. On leaving the school we had our guns and our cartridge-boxes, but they were empty. One day when, in the forest of Fontainebleau, I was negotiating with all proper seriousness a certain affair with a pastry boy, a

NAPOLEON'S ARMY ii

luminous idea struck me: the most ordinary men have at times flashes of genius. I took out the piece of wood of which I have just spoken; and showing it to the boy I told him to make pates for us having exactly the same shape. I notified all my comrades. The following week, everyone, before leaving, left the piece of wood pierced with holes under his bed, and we returned to the beat of drums, each with a smuggled pate which we had the pleasure of concealing from the glances of all the custom's men of the school. We repeated this every week. During the time of my stay at Fontainebleau, the secret was well kept. I do not know what took place later, but as everything has an end in the best possible world, even the most useful things, the pates de giherne must have had their day of mourning.

Duels were frequent at the military school. Before I came there fighting was done with the bayonets, but a pupil having been killed, this weapon was suppressed. This was no hindrance: pieces of foils were procured, and if necessary compasses •were fastened to the ends of sticks, all this to appear bold. When through a duel one had acquired this title, and could add to it that of smoker, one was at the height of glory.

One fine day, during a review. General Bellavenne announced the names of those who the next day were to depart for the army. Oh I what emotion while he was reading his list ! our hearts beat to bursting in our breasts. What joy among the chosen! what anxiety among those whose names had not yet been called! To put on an officer's coat, wear the epaulet, carry a sword, oh! what fine things when one Is eighteen! We were privates; a moment after we became officers: a single word had produced this happy metamorphosis. Man is always a child, at all ages he needs a plaything; he often esteems himself according to the coat he wears ; he is perhaps right, since the multitude judges according to the clothes. However that may be, with our second-lieutenant's epaulets, we considered ourselves something.

A captain of the school was detailed to conduct us to the Emperor's general headquarters. We travelled post, so we said ; the fact Is that we were piled by the dozen lots in wagons, and that by going at a walking pace from morning until night wc made two stages- a day.

In all the towns, our greatest occupation was to have the sentinels present arms to us; nothing was so funny as the serious air and especially the indifference we affected when saluting them; all the old soldiers before whom we passed and repassed ceaselessly must have made great sport of our childishness.

The ambition of each of us was to have a certain rakish air: we smoked, we drank liquor; we imagined that these good habits would give us a military appearance. Our clothes, our epaulets, everything was new, everything was fresh from the shop. We exposed them to the rain and the sun to give them something of the look of the bivouac. In spite of this, the buttons of the school, our beardless faces, betrayed us and Captain Dornicr, who marched at our head, showed suf&ciently that with our week-old epaulets, we were still but school-boys.

We travelled merrily, for we were young, without cares and full of hope. While going through

Prussia, then through Poland, then again through Prussia, now well, now badly, we always laughed.

It was at the birth-place of Copernicus, at Thorn, that we noticed that we were in the neighbourhood of Napoleon's army. That city, encumbered with men from almost all the regiments, had half of its houses transformed into hospitals. We were obliged to take lodgings in granaries or In stables ; there was nothing available between the two. We were beginning to think that war might possibly not be the most beautiful thing In the world.

The army at that time occupied the cantonment which it had taken after the battle of Eylau, won by the French . . . and by the Russians, as they said.^ Napoleon was at Finkensteln,^ reviewing, repairing the losses of the month of February, imparting to all his extraordinary activity. It is there that for the first time I saw that astonishing man, of whom some have attempted to make a god, and whom certain Imbeciles have called a fool. He has proved that he was neither one nor the other. The judgments passed on him to this day have been too close to the events to be free from partiality. For a long time to come it will be impossible to write a good history of Napoleon; for such a thing to be, his contemporaries and their sons will have to be dead; enthusiasm cooled, hatred dead. Then, and not till then, a man free from prejudice, consulting the thousands of volumes already written and those to be, will be able to find truth in the well. Out of these materials, a monument shall arise superb, imperishable. To assist in this grand construction, I bring a grain of sand.

THE BIVOUAC AND THE MARAUDERS

Chapter II The Bivouac And The Marauders

Here we are in a beautiful plain, furrowed by artillery, trampled by cavalry; It has rained all day. It Is here that we are going to sleep. The order Is given; twenty men of each company are sent Into the neighbouring villages to bring back wood, straw, supplies. Soon a curious sight presents itself before our eyes. " The market will be good," say the soldiers, " the dealers are coming." In fact, from all sides, we see hurrying forward our fearless freebooters loaded down with sacks full of poultry, baskets of eggs and loaves of bread stuck one after the other on ramrods. Some push before them sheep and cows, oxen and pigs ; others make peasants, put In requisition, carry the straw and wood. Judging by the scowling faces of the peasants, by the interjections which escape them, one can easily see that they are not pleased, but their words are drowned by the cries of the animals and by the soldiers' peals of laughter.

When one is at the bivouac, near the enemy, every man lies down fully dressed; each sleeps, one might say, with his eyes open; one must be ready for any emergency. Sometimes, we have remained in our boots for a month, which is, to say the least, very uncomfortable. Sometimes also, when lying down, the desire came over one to unbutton one's clothes ; one loosened a buckle, then another, and it required more time to remedy this little disorder than if one had been entirely undressed. When the season is cold everyone lies about the fire ; but one gets toasted on the one side, while being frozen on the other ; one of course has the resource of turning around, but that is not at all easy.

When one happens to be in the second rank, one can then undress ; less precautions are necessary. The officers have linen sacks in which they thrust themselves and which serve as sheets. As mattresses and feather beds are always replaced by bales of straw, the linen sack is much more agreeable than the sheets: the seam allows nothing to get Inside.

The time of awakening at the bivouac Is never amusing; one has slept because one was tired; but on rising, the members of the body are benumbed, the moustaches, like tufts of lucern, have on each hair drops of dew; the teeth are clinched; one has to rub one's gums to re-establish the circulation.

Those who have never been to war will never be able to form an Idea of the Ills It brings with it. I shall not give a complete description of them. It would exceed the limit I have prescribed for myself. I shall only say a few words about our life at the bivouac and the waste which took place In the army. We lived on what the soldiers found, and living would have been Impossible otherwise : our rapid marches prevented our stores, when we had stores, from following us. In rich countries, there were brought to the camp twenty times more provisions than It was possible to consume. The remainder was lost. The soldier lives from day to day; yesterday he lacked everything, to-day, if he has an abundance, he forgets the privations aa AN OFFICER OF

of the evening before and does not worry about the morrow ; nor does he consider that the following days other regiments will come to the position he is going to leave, that while taking what he requires it would be well to leave something to those who are to follow. . . . Not at all: one company of a hundred men has already killed two oxen; it is sufficient; after this there are found four cows, six calves, a dozen sheep : everything is pitilessly put to death, so as to eat the tongues, the kidneys, the brains. A cellar is entered wherein twenty casks stand in battle-array imposing and majestic: there are no tools to pierce them, but soldiers are never embarrassed; they fire gunshots through them, and soon twenty fountains of wine gush from all sides, to the loud peals of laughter of those present. Should a hundred casks be In the cellar they would have the same fate, for after all one must be able to taste the best.

Still another motive prompts certain soldiers to hunt for what they require to live: and while appearing to be looking for bread, they enter houses and succeed in taking possession of the owner's purse. Seeking for bread is an excellent pretext;

when they do not receive their rations regularly, it Is Impossible to prevent marauding. The chief reply of army plunderers Is this: *' I am hungry, I seek bread." There Is no answer possible to this sentence. When It Is Impossible to give them bread, you must let them have their way. The horsemen have a double excuse: they are looking for fodder for their horses. A hussar was surprised by his captain while he was searching a wardrobe.

" What are you doing there? " asked the officer angrily.

*' I am looking for oats for my horse."

" A good place to look for It I "

" I have already found In the library of this place a bale of hay surrounded by a thousand sheets of paper; why should I not find oats In this wardrobe?"

The worthy soldier had plundered the plant collection of an amateur botanist without seeing aught else In It than a bale of hay for his horse.

In every regiment, In every company, there existed determined marauders who travelled on the sides of the road, at two or three leagues from the column. Sometimes they were attacked by the enemy; but it may be said that the Intelligence of the French soldier equals his bravery. These gentlemen chose among themselves a dictator who commanded them, and often these Improvised generals have fought serious battles and won victories.

When the English army of General Moore was retreating at Corunna,^ our advance-guard, which was in pursuit, was much astonished to come across a stockaded village. The tricolor flag waved over the steeple, the sentinels wore the French uniform. Officers approached and soon were told that for three months two hundred marauders had occupied this village.

Cut off in their retreat, they had established themselves In this post and had fortified It. Often attacked, they had always repulsed the enemy. Their general In chief was a corporal; sovereign of this colony, his orders were obeyed like those of the Emperor. On entering the village the officers directed their steps towards the residence of the commander; he was on a hunt with his staff. Shortly after he returned and told his story, then was seen what bravery combined with intelligence can do.

We were at the bivouac on a beautiful night; I was not asleep ; seated by the fire, I was smoking my pipe by the side of the soldier in charge of the soup. While looking at the boiling billows, I noticed from time to time something black which passed above and disappeared immediately in the depths of the enormous kettle. This something excited my curiosity. I bravely drew my sword and stood there watching for the black spot in its passage; after having missed it several times, I finally caught it : it was one mouse, two mice, three mice, four mice. I awakened the cook.

" Well ! comrade, it appears that we have queer ly seasoned soup to-day I "

*' The same every day, lieutenant: potatoes and cabbage, I never vary."

" And the whole thing cooked in a decoction of mice. Here, look at the fine vegetables I have fished out of your kettle."

" Impossible, lieutenant."

" It Is so very possible that It Is true. Where the devil did you get your water ? "

" In a vat, at the neighbouring village."

" Then you did not see what it contained? "

" It was dark, I felt that it was water, I took some to make my soup. Who would ever imagine that, In a vat at a peasant's, one would find a squadron of mice? "

" You might have poisoned the entire company, for If your vat is made of copper . . ."

" It Is made of wood, I am sure of It, do not worry."

" All the same, you must throw away your soup and make some other."

" Impossible, lieutenant, I should not have the time. All those big fellows who are snoring about us will awaken shortly: their appetites will be awake before they are; and if by ill luck the soup were not ready, I should be rewarded by fifty kicks or so, you know where. I beg you, lieutenant, the mice are taken out, tell no one, the soup will be good all the same and all you will have to do is to eat with some other company."

" And what will you do? "

" rU eat some."

He did. Later he told me that he had never before tasted soup so good.

Now, this is how this accident had happened. In many farms in Germany, to get rid of mice, people make use of a vat half filled with water. A few small boards are placed on top. Bacon is placed on these, flour, any sort of bait. As soon as the mice walk on this bridge, a spring is set in motion, the board tips and the mice fall and are drowned. The spring is reset automatically: It is always ready to do its duty. It is from that sort of a reservoir that our bivouac chef had drawn the water of which he made so queer a soup. No one noticed anything; the soup was considered excellent.

Between the camp and the bivouac properly called there still exists something which Is neither the bivouac, nor the camp. At the bivouac one sleeps entirely in the open air; at the camp one is in barracks well set in line ; but in that something which takes after both, one finds oneself under small shelters which protect from the rain.

They are built only in places where it is expected to remain some days: for a single night no such trouble is taken. This sort of shelter Is simply a roof of straw on three walls of straw ; the open part is the highest, the closed part is toward the wind. Each establishes himself as he pleases, selects the ground to his liking, and the whole presents a rather attractive picture.

In this sort of barrack it is impossible to stand, except perhaps near the entrance. One sleeps very well In them, but in the morning one must make one's toilet in the open air, which saves one from opening windows. What varied scenes a clever artist could sketch! But all of them would not find admission to the Louvre.

On the day of our arrival at Tilsit, there were rumours of a peace armistice ; Immediately the shelters were constructed solidly enough to resist the Inclemencies of the season for a whole week. I was lying In the evening by the side of Laborle, my lieutenant, when we were visited by Hemere, sub-lieutenant of our regiment. I was beginning to fall asleep ; his coming awoke me ; but on hearing the turn taken by the conversation, I thought it proper to pretend to sleep. This is the dialogue word for word; I shall never forget it:

" Good evening, Laborie."

"Good evening, well! aren't you going to sleep?"

" Ah! yes, go to sleep, I have something else to do, faith! I'll be on foot all night."

" I understand that peace is about to be made, that the amnesty has even been signed, and I believe it, since the quartermaster and the musicians have arrived."

" Whether they make peace or war, will not change the fact that after having marched all day long, I still have a fine task for to-night."

"What is it?"

" The colonel is sending me out to look for a mill which stands six leagues from here. I have no one to show me the way; the villages are deserted, not a peasant to serve me as a guide. All I have been told is that the mill is called Briinsmiihl. I have four wagon loads of grain to be ground; I am taking along some bakers to make bread and we shall bring it back here."

" Good news, comrade ; hurry, and above all try to put aside a few good loaves for me."

" That goes without saying, but I came to see your map. I have been told that you had a map."

" Yes, I have, and a fine one, too."

" Shall we find the mill on it? "

" I should say so I Everything Is on my map."

Now, you must know that Laborle's map had been picked up at the bivouac, among the various objects found by marauding soldiers. To give himself an air of Importance, Laborle unfolded his map at every Instant: we often gave one another the cue and as soon as he had folded it up, each on some pretext or other came along and made him unfold it again.

" Here Is my map," said Laborle as he spread it on the ground near the fire, and stretched himself flat on his stomach by its side; " what's the name of your mill? "