Napoleonic Literature
The Memoirs of Baron de Marbot - Volume I
Chapter XLI
WITH the capture of Saragossa, Marshal Lannes' work was done, and he started to rejoin the Emperor at Paris and accompany him into Germany. We rode the distance from Aragon to Bidassoa. The celebrated guerilla prince attacked our escort in the Pyrenees near Pampeluna, and a servant of the marshal's who acted as outrider was killed. At Saint-Jean de Luz the marshal found his carriage and offered places in it to Saint-Mars, Le Couteulx, and myself. I sold my horses, and de Viry took my servant back. One of the marshal's valets having vainly tried to act as outrider, and there being no postilions, we three offered to do three stages apiece. I admit that this riding post cost me a good deal, hardly healed as I was of my two wounds, but I reckoned on my youth and my strong constitution. I began my duties on the darkest of nights and under a violent storm, and besides, as I was not preceded by a postilion as the outrider who carries despatches usually is, I got into bad places, and rode my horse into holes; the carriage was at my heels, I did not know the position of the post-houses, which are hard to find at night and in such weather. To finish my misfortunes, I had to wait for some time for the ferry-boat across the Adour at Peyrehorade. I took cold and was shivering, and in a good deal of pain from my wound when I took my place in the carriage. You may see from these details that an aide-de-camp's life is not all rosewater. We stayed forty-eight hours at Lectoure, where the marshal had a comfortable house in the buildings of the old bishop's palace. Then we continued our journey towards Paris. As the marshal travelled night and day and could not bear the smell of cooked food, we were obliged to fast pretty well for six stages, and then only to eat as we galloped. I was, therefore, much surprised when one evening the marshal begged me to stop at Pétignac or Le Roulet, and to announce that he would halt an hour for supper. I was especially surprised when I saw that the house to which I was directed was not an inn; but when the marshal's coming was announced, the inhabitants displayed the most lively joy, laid the table, prepared a succulent repast, and flew out to meet the carriage. The marshal, with tears in his eyes, kissed them all round, including the smallest brats, and showed every sign of the warmest friendship towards the postmaster. After dinner he bade Saint-Mars take out of his pocket-book a superb gold watch and a chain of the same metal clasped with a big diamond, presented these to the postmaster and his wife, gave 300 or 400 francs to the maids, and departed after most tender embraces.

I supposed that this family were the marshal's relations, but when we were in the carriage he said to us, 'You are doubtless astonished at the interest I take in these good people, but the husband did me a great service, for he saved my life in Syria.' Then the marshal related to us how, when he was a general of division at Acre, he was leading an assault against the tower when he received a bullet through his neck, and fell senseless. His soldiers, deeming him dead, were retiring in disorder before thousands of Turks, who cut off the heads of such as they could catch and placed them on the points of the palisades. A brave captain appealed to the men to bring away the body of their general, carried him off, and, when exhausted, dragged him by one leg to the back of the trenches. The soil being sandy, the general's head received no injury, and his senses being restored by the shaking he was tended by Larrey, who quite brought him back to life. The captain having been severely wounded left the army with a small pension, and married a wife without much money. But the marshal became a second Providence for the family. He purchased for them a postmastership, some fields, some horses, and a house and had the eldest son educated at his own expense until the others were old enough to leave their parents. So naturally these good people were as grateful to the marshal, as he to his rescuer. The ex-captain no doubt lost a good deal when Marshal Lannes died. He never saw him again after that day.

We continued our journey, with the cold always increasing, which made the way from Orleans to Paris wretched enough. I arrived on April 2, terribly tired and in much pain. The joy with which I met my mother again was mingled with bitter, for she had just heard that my brother had been taken prisoner by Spanish guerrillas, and I was about to start on a new campaign.

The moment I got to Paris the marshal took me to the minister of war to find out what he had done for me. My commission as major lacked only the Emperor's signature, but Napoleon being much occupied with the movements of the Austrian army did not ask the minister for the document, which was all ready, and made no promotion. An evil fate pursued me.

The capital was much excited. The English, seeing us occupied in Spain, thought that the moment had come to raise the whole North of Europe against Napoleon. The plan was premature, for the Emperor still could dispose of vast influence and a strong force in Germany. Prussia did not dare to stir; the princes of the Germanic Confederation placed their armies at the service of Napoleon; even Russia sent a corps of 25,000 men. In spite of this, the Austrians in the pay of England had just declared war, and their armies were advancing on our ally, Bavaria. The Emperor was making ready to go to Germany, whither Lannes was to follow him. All the carriages had been reserved by the hundreds of generals and others, and I was in a difficulty, for both the Emperor and the marshal were to leave Paris on April 13, and I had orders to start a day before them. I had therefore to make up my mind to ride post once more. Luckily, a week's rest had reduced the irritation of the wound in my side. That in my forehead was healed over, and I was careful to wear a cocked hat instead of my heavy busby. My servant, Woirland, went with me, but being a very bad rider, he often fell off, only saying, as he got up again, 'How tough you are! Oh, yes; you are tough!'

In forty-eight hours I covered the hundred and twenty leagues between Paris and Strasburg, in spite of rain and snow. Woirland could do no more; we had to change our mode of travelling. Besides, I knew that in Germany nobody posted on horseback, and we were still only half-way to Augsburg, our rendezvous. At last I found a carriage, and reached Augsburg, where I joined my comrades. The Emperor, the marshal, and nearly all the troops were already in the field. I managed to buy a horse in the town. I exchanged my carriage for another, and we set off in the saddle. In the course of a few weeks we had sold our horses cheap, and spent a great deal of money—all to go and meet the bullets which were to take away many of our lives. You may call the feeling which urged us love of glory, or perhaps madness; it was an imperious master, and we marched without looking back.

We reached head-quarters on April 20, during the action at Abensberg. Marshal Lannes complimented us on our zeal, and sent us off at once into the thick of the fire to bear his orders. The Austrians, under the Archduke Charles, withdrew behind the Danube at Landshut, beyond the Iser, as usual omitting to destroy the bridges. Napoleon attacked Landshut with the infantry. They crossed the bridge twice under a hail of bullets, but on reaching the other side were stopped by a huge gate, which the enemy's rear-guard was defending with a brisk fire from the walls of the town. Twice our columns were repulsed with loss, but the Emperor, who set very much by the capture of Landshut, that he might cross the Iser before the archduke could organise his resistance more thoroughly, ordered a third attack. The troops told off for this were getting ready to march when Napoleon, seeing his aide-de-camp, General Mouton, who was coming to report the result of a mission which he had given him that morning, said, 'You come just in time; put yourself at the head of that column, and carry the town of Landshut. So perilous a task set him without notice would have astonished a man less brave than General Mouton. He was in no way perturbed by it. Dismounting and drawing his sword, he ordered the charge to be sounded. He was the first to dash over the bridge at the head of the grenadiers. Finding the gate of Landshut in his way, he had it broken down with hatchets, put all who resisted to the sword, took the town, and came calmly back to the Emperor with his report of the mission which he had undertaken in the morning. Strangely enough, during their conversation not a word was said about the capture of Landshut, and the Emperor never spoke of it to General Mouton; but after the campaign he sent him a remarkable picture by Hersant, in which the general is represented marching to the attack of the place at the head of his column. This keepsake from Napoleon was worth more than the highest eulogies.


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