Napoleonic Literature
Memoirs of Constant - Vol. IV
Chapter II
The Emperor badly lodged throughout the whole campaign— Hovels infested with vermin— Manner in which the Emperor's apartment was arranged— The council hall— Profanations of the Emperor— Inhabitants of Russian hovels— How the Emperor was lodged when houses were lacking— The tent— Marshal Berthier— A momentary coolness between the Emperor and him— M. Colin, kitchen superintendent— Roustan— The Emperor's sleepless nights— His care of his hands— He is much affected by cold— Demolition of a chapel at Witepsk— Dissatisfaction of the inhabitants— Singular spectacle— Soldiers of the guard mingling with the bathers— Review of the grenadiers— Installation of General Friant— The Emperor gives him the accolade— Refutation of those who think that the Emperor's suite fared better than the rest of the army— The generals gnawing munition bread— Community of sufferings between generals and soldiers— The marauders— Straw beds— M. de Bausset— Anecdote— A night of those in the Emperor's suite— I undress only once during the entire campaign— Canvas bags as beds— The Emperor's solicitude for the members of his suite— Vermin— We sacrifice our mattresses to the needs of wounded officers.

DURING the whole Russian campaign the Emperor was usually very badly lodged. We had to comply with necessity. The thing was a trifle hard, to be sure, for people who had nearly always lived in palaces. The Emperor resigned himself to it courageously, and all the rest followed suit in consequence. Thanks to the system of burning adopted by the Russian policy, those who were in easy circumstances throughout the country, when retiring further into the interior, would abandon their houses in ruins to the enemy. To tell the truth, all along the road conducting to Moscow, some rather important towns alone excepted, the habitations were wretched enough. After long and fatiguing marches we thought ourselves very lucky if we found a hovel on the place indicated by the Emperor for headquarters. In quitting these miserable holes, their proprietors would sometimes leave there two or three poor seats and wooden bedsteads swarming with the vermin which no invasion frightens. The least dirty room was taken when it fortunately proved to be the best ventilated. When the cold weather came, draughts never failed us. When the place was selected and it was decided to remain there, a carpet was laid on the ground. The Emperor's bed was set up. On a wretched table was placed the open dressing-case containing whatever might be agreeable or useful in a sleeping-chamber. The dressing-case included a breakfast service for several persons. All this luxury was displayed whenever the Emperor invited his marshals. There was no choice about coming down to the ways of small provincial burghers. If the house had two rooms, one served both as sleeping-room and dining-room; the other was taken for His Majesty's cabinet. The chest of books, the geographical charts, the portfolio, and a table covered with a green cloth were all the furniture. This was the council hall. It was from these beggars' hovels that were issued those prompt and trenchant decisions which changed an order of battle and often the fortune of a day; those vivid and energetic proclamations which so quickly reanimated the discouraged army. When our apartment comprised three rooms, a case which was extremely rare, then the third room or cabinet was given to Prince de Neufchâtel, who always slept as near by as was possible. We often found old worm-eaten furniture of odd shapes in these wretched habitations, and little images of saints in wood or plaster which the proprietors had left behind. But usually we found poor people in these dwellings. Having nothing to save from conquest, they stayed where they were. These good people appeared much ashamed of receiving the Emperor of the French so badly. They gave what they had, and we thought none the worse of them. More poor people than rich ones in Russia have received the Emperor in their houses.

The Kremlin was the last palace of foreign kings in which His Majesty slept during the Russian campaign.

When we found no houses on the route, we put up the Emperor's tent. It was divided into three rooms by curtains, so as to contrive several apartments. In one the Emperor slept, in the second was his cabinet, in the third his aides-de-camp and chief attendants were accommodated. In this room the Emperor usually ate his meals, which were prepared outside. I alone slept in the chamber. Roustan, who followed His Majesty on horseback when he went out, slept in the couloirs of the tent, so as not to be interrupted in a repose very necessary for him. The secretaries slept either in the cabinet or the couloirs. The great officers and chief attendants ate where and as they could. Like common soldiers, they had no scruples against taking a snack when they could get it.

Prince Berthier had his tent close to that of His Majesty. He always breakfasted and dined with the Emperor. They were inseparable friends. This intercourse was very touching. It was seldom interrupted. Still, I think there was a slight falling out between the Emperor and the Marshal when His Majesty quitted the army of Moscow. The old Marshal wished to go with him. The Emperor refused him. A somewhat lively discussion ensued which entailed no consequences.

On campaign the meals were served by M. Collin [sic], superintendent of the kitchen, and Roustan as a valet de chambre.

In this campaign, more than in any other, the Emperor frequently rose during the night, put on his dressing-gown, and worked in his cabinet. Very often he had fits of insomnia which he could not overcome. Then, as he found the bed unendurable, he would suddenly spring up, take a book, and read as he walked up and down the room. When he found his head somewhat refreshed, he would go back to bed. He rarely enjoyed uninterrupted sleep for two nights together. He would often remain at work in the cabinet until it was the hour for the toilet. Then he would return to his chamber and I would dress him. The Emperor took great care of his hands. Yet in this campaign he often relaxed this petty vanity. During the great heats he no longer wore gloves, finding them too uncomfortable. Hence, through being exposed to the sun, his hands became very much tanned. When the cold weather set in, what had been a coquettish device became a sanitary precaution. The Emperor resumed his gloves. He endured the cold with great courage. Still, it was plain that physically he was much affected by it.

It was at Witepsk that the Emperor had several wretched houses pulled down to enlarge the place in front of the house he inhabited, because it was too small to hold reviews there. There was a dilapidated old chapel which it was likewise necessary to eliminate to attain his end completely. The demolition had already begun when the inhabitants assembled in large numbers, expressing loudly their dissatisfaction with this proceeding. But they were appeased when the Emperor gave them permission to take away all the sacred objects contained in the chapel. In consequence of this authorization, several persons entered the holy place, and we saw them come out again bearing, with great pomp, some wooden images of saints of large dimensions, which they deposited in other churches.

One morning I was present at a grand review of the foot grenadiers of the guard. All the regiments seemed very joyful. It was because General Friant was about to be installed as commander of the corps. The Emperor gave him the accolade. It was the only time I ever saw His Majesty do this on campaign. As the General was much beloved by the army, this favor of the Emperor was received with universal acclamations. All the promotions were usually welcomed with great enthusiasm by the soldiers, for the Emperor insisted on their being made with formality and display.

Many persons fancy that to be near the Emperor was enough to ensure one's being perfectly well off, even on campaign. This is a great error, which could be contradicted by the kings and princes who followed His Majesty to his wars. If such grand personages as these lacked necessary conveniences, one should reflect that the employees of the different services were very uncomfortable. The Emperor himself often dispensed with those ordinary commodities which would have been very agreeable to him after his fatiguing days. One might say that at the hour for the bivouacs there was a general loge-qui-peut (lodge who can). Never did the poor soldier find his own destitution made more grievous by the sight of abundance and scandalous luxury in the quarters of his superiors. The chief generals of the army ate their munition bread with as much pleasure as the common soldiers. Never was want more general than during the retreat. This idea of a misfortune shared by all came most opportunely to rekindle hope and energy in the most discouraged. It may also be said that sympathy was never more reciprocal between chiefs and soldiers. Thousands of examples might be cited in support of what I advance.

When evening came, the fires were lighted; the most fortunate of the marauders would invite some of their companions to share their feast. On days of dearth, cuts of roasted horse were a very poor repast to offer, and yet a very good one. Many soldiers would deprive themselves of a good prize to offer it to their leaders. Selfishness was not so general as to prevent this noble French courtesy from reappearing occasionally to recall the happy days of France. We all lay on straw; and those of the marshals who slept in excellent feather-beds in Paris did not find this couch too hard in Russia.

M. de Bausset gave me a very droll account of one of these nights when, lying pell-mell in very narrow quarters on a little straw, the aides-de-camp summoned to the Emperor would pass mercilessly over the legs of their sleeping companions. Luckily enough, the rest had not the pains of gout from which M. de Bausset was suffering, and which were not diminished by such rough and repeated pressures. He cried out in a doleful voice: "It is a butchery then;" and drew his legs up under him, skulking in his corner until the comings and goings should cease for a time.

Imagine large, dirty, unfurnished rooms, open to the wind through every window, the panes of which were for the most part broken, dilapidated walls, a fetid atmosphere which we warmed as well as we could by our breathing, a vast litter of straw shaken down as if for horses, and on this litter men shivering with cold, tossing about, pressing against each other, murmuring, swearing; some unable to close an eye, others, more lucky, snoring in fine style; and, from the midst of this pile of feet and legs the alarm cries in the night when an order from the Emperor would come; and you will have an idea of the hostelry and the guests.

For my part, so long as the campaign lasted, I never once undressed myself to go to bed, for we found none anywhere. Something else had to be substituted in their place. Now, one knows that necessity is never at a loss for inventions. This is how we supplied for this defect in our furnishings: We had great bags of coarse canvas made, in which we enveloped ourselves completely, and then threw ourselves down upon a little straw, when we were so lucky as to find any. It was in this manner that I took a little repose during the night for several months together; and even at that, I have several times passed five or six nights without being able to avail myself of it, my service being continual.

If you reject that all these petty sufferings were renewed daily, that when night came we had not even the repose of the bed to refresh our weary limbs, you will get a notion of the burdensome character of our service. Never did the least murmur of impatience escape the Emperor when assailed by so many inconveniences. His example endowed us with great courage; and in the end we so accustomed ourselves to this nomadic and fatiguing life, that in spite of the cold and the privations of every kind to which we were subjected, we often jested over the poor appearance of our apartments. The Emperor was never affected during the campaign but with the sufferings of others. Not infrequently his health was affected to such a degree as to inspire anxiety, especially when he refused himself all unusual repose. Yet I always saw him taking pains to find out how everything was going, and if there were resting places for all. He was never tranquil until he had been perfectly informed concerning all these details.

Although the Emperor nearly always had his bed, yet the wretched shelters in which it was set up were frequently so dirty that in spite of all the pains taken to cleanse them, I more than once found in his clothes a sort of vermin extremely uncomfortable and very common in Russia. We suffered still more than the Emperor from this filthiness, deprived as we were of clean linen and other changes of clothing; for the larger part of our effects had been burned with the carriages that contained them. This extreme measure had been taken, as is known, for a good reason. All the horses were dead of cold and hunger.

We were not much better off for beds in the palace of the Czars, than at the bivouac. We had mattresses for several days; but a large number of wounded officers were without any, and the Emperor made us give them ours. We made the sacrifice with very willing hearts, and the thought that we were solacing those who were still more unfortunate than ourselves would have made us find the hardest couches good. Besides, throughout this war we had more than one occasion of learning to put aside all egotistic sentiment and narrow selfishness. We might have been guilty of such forgetfulness if the Emperor had not been always there to recall us to this simple and easy duty.



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