Besides M. Gault, my father took another aide-de-camp, Major R--------, who had been passed on to him by his friend General Augereau. This officer, who belonged to a Maintenon family, possessed talents and education of which he made little use; for, by a whim not uncommon at that time, he thought fit to adopt the style of a swashbuckler, for ever swearing, damning, and threatening to split people's heads. This bully had only one good point, and that one which then was rare: he was always most carefully dressed. My father was soon sorry that he had accepted him for his aide-de-camp without knowing him, but he could not dismiss him without offending his old friend Augereau; and, though not liking him, he held that a general ought to make the most of his officers' military qualities without troubling himself too much about their manners. As, however, he did not care to have the company of M. R-------- in a long journey, he had given him the duty of bringing his carriages and horses from Paris to Nice. Our old groom Spire, a faithful servant, accustomed to looking after stablemen, was put under his orders. M. R-------- started a month before us in command of a numerous caravan— fifteen horses belonging to my father, besides those of the staff, the baggage wagons, and so on.

In my father's carriage travelled the unlucky M. Lachèze, Captain Gault, and I. Colonel Ménard, chief of the staff, with one of his assistant aides-de-camp, followed in a post-chaise. I had a very smart forage-cap, which I liked to wear always. One night, being troubled with my old enemy 'sea-sickness,' I was constantly putting my head out of window. My cap fell off; the carriage was going at the best pace of six stout horses. I did not dare to stop it, and my cap was lost. I was much distressed, but did not mention it for fear of the banter which would ensue as to the little care which the new soldier took of his property. After staying a day at Mâcon with an old friend of my father's we pushed on towards Lyons. When we were changing horses at Limonest, within a few leagues of that town, we noticed that all the post-horses were adorned with tricoloured ribbons and the houses with flags. On asking the cause of this display we were told that Bonaparte had just arrived at Lyons. My father, thinking he knew for certain that Bonaparte was at the other end of Egypt, treated this piece of news as a joke. His astonishment was great when, on questioning the postmaster, who had just come from Lyons, he learnt that that official, who had served under Bonaparte in Italy and knew him well by sight, averred that he had seen him. 'He is at Lyons, in the Hotel --------. His brother Louis, General Berthier, Lannes, and Murat are with him; also many other officers and a mameluke,' This was pretty positive evidence. Still the Revolution had given rise to so many impostures, and so much ingenuity had been shown in inventing stories to serve party purposes, that my father was still in doubt as we entered Lyons by the suburb of Vaise. The houses were all illuminated and beflagged, fireworks were being let off; our carriage could hardly make its way through the crowd. People were dancing in the open spaces, and the air rang with cries of ' Hurrah for Bonaparte! he will save the country!' This evidence was irresistible; we had to admit that Bonaparte was in Lyons. My father said, 'Of course I thought they would bring him, but I never suspected it would be so soon; they have played their game well. We shall see great events come to pass. Now I am sure that I was right in getting away from Paris; with the army I shall be able to serve my country without being mixed up in a coup d'état. It may be as necessary as it seems, but I dislike it altogether.' With that he fell into deep thought, lasting through the tedious interval required to make our way through the crowd, which grew thicker at every step, and reach our hotel.

Arrived there, we found it hung with lanterns and guarded by a battalion of grenadiers. They had given General Bonaparte the apartments ordered a week before for my father. Quick-tempered though he was, he said nothing, and when the landlord made somewhat confused apologies to the effect that he had been compelled to obey the orders of the town council, my father made no answer. On hearing that a lodging had been taken for us in a good hotel of the second class kept by a relation of the landlord's, my father confined himself to bidding M. Gault order the postillions to drive there. When we got there we found our courier--he was an excitable man, and, being well warmed by the numerous quenchers which he had taken at every halting-place on his long journey, had kicked up the devil's own row on learning, when he preceded us at the first hotel, that the apartments engaged for his master had been given to General Bonaparte. The aides-de-camp, hearing this fearful uproar and learning the cause of it, went to let their chief know that General Marbot had been thrown over for him. At the same moment Bonaparte himself, through his open window, perceived my father's two carriages standing before the door. Up to then he had known nothing of his landlord's shabby behaviour towards my father, and, seeing that General Marbot, recently commandant of Paris, and at that moment at the head of a division of the Army of Italy, was too important a man for any offhand treatment, and that, moreover, he himself was returning with the intention of being on a good footing with everybody, he ordered one of his officers to go down at once and offer General Marbot to come and share his lodging with him in soldier fashion. But the carriages went on before the aide-de-camp could speak to my father; so Bonaparte started at once on foot in order to come and express his regret in person. The cheers of the crowd which followed him as he drew near our hotel might have given us notice, but we had heard so much cheering since we entered the town that it occurred to none of us to look out into the street. We were all in the sitting-room, and my father was pacing up and down plunged in meditation, when suddenly a waiter, throwing open both folding doors, announced General Bonaparte.

On entering, he ran up to my father and embraced him; my father received him courteously but coldly. They were old acquaintances, and between persons of their rank a few words were sufficient to explain matters with regard to the lodging. They had much else to talk of, so they went alone into the bedroom, where they conferred together for more than an hour. Meanwhile the generals and officers who had come with Bonaparte from Egypt chatted with us in the sitting-room. I was never tired of studying their martial air, their faces bronzed by the Eastern sun, their strange costumes, and their Turkish sabres slung by cords. I listened attentively to their tales of the campaigns in Egypt and the battles fought there. I enjoyed the repetition of the celebrated names, Pyramids, Nile, Cairo, Alexandria, Acre, and so forth. But what delighted me most was the sight of the young mameluke Roustan. He had waited in the antechamber, and I went there more than once to admire his costume, which he was pleased to show me. He could already speak French pretty well, and I was never tired of asking him questions. General Lannes remembered how he had let me fire his pistols in 1793, when he was serving under my father at the camp of Le Miral. He was very good-natured to me, and neither of us suspected then that I should one day be his aide-de-camp, and that he would die in my arms at Essling. General Murat had been born in our own neighbourhood, and as he had been shopboy to a haberdasher at Saint-Céré in the days when my family used to spend the winter there, he had often come with goods for my mother. My father, too, had done him several kindnesses, for which he was always grateful. He kissed me and reminded me how he had often carried me when I was a baby. Later on I shall relate the life of this famous man who rose so high from so low an origin.

General Bonaparte and my father returned into the sitting-room, and introduced to each other the members of their respective staffs. Lannes and Murat were old acquaintances of my father's, and he received them very cordially. He was somewhat cold towards Berthier, whom he had seen in old days at Marseilles when he was in the body-guard and Berthier an engineer. General Bonaparte asked me very courteously for news of my mother, and complimented me in a kind manner on having taken up the military career so young. Then, gently pinching my ear--the flattering caress which he always employed to persons with whom he was pleased--he said, addressing my father, 'Here will be a second General Marbot some day.' His forecast has been verified, though at that time I had little hope of it. All the same, his words made me feel proud all over--it doesn't take much to awaken the pride of a child.

The visit came to an end, and my father gave no indication of what had passed between General Bonaparte and himself; but I learnt later on that Bonaparte, without actually betraying his schemes, had endeavoured by the most adroit cajoleries to enlist my father on his side. My father, however, steadily evaded the question.

So shocked was he at the sight of the people of Lyons running to meet Bonaparte, as if he were already sovereign of France, that he expressed a wish to get away next morning at daybreak; but his carriages required repair, and he was forced to stay an entire day at Lyons. I took the opportunity of getting a new forage-cap made, and in my delight at this purchase I paid no sort of heed to the political conversation which I heard all about me, nor, to tell the truth, did I understand much of it. My father went to return General Bonaparte's visit. They walked for a long time alone in the little garden of the hotel, while their staffs kept at a respectful distance. We saw them at one time vigorously gesturing, at another talking more calmly; presently Bonaparte, coming close to my father with a coaxing air, took his arm in a friendly fashion. His motive, probably, was that the authorities who were in the courtyard and the many curious spectators who were crowding the neighbouring windows might say that General Marbot assented to General Bonaparte's plans. But this clever man never overlooked any means of reaching his end; some people he drew over, and wished to have it believed that he had also won to his side those whose sense of duty led them to resist him. Herein his success was wonderful.

My father came out from this second conversation even more thoughtful than from the first, and on entering the hotel he gave orders that we should proceed on the following day. But General Bonaparte was going to make a visit of inspection of the points in the neighbourhood of the town suitable for fortification, and all the post-horses had been engaged for him. For the moment I thought that my father would be angry, but he confined himself to saying: "There's the beginning of omnipotence.' He gave orders that an effort should be made to hire some horses, so eager was he to get away from the town and to escape a spectacle which shocked him. No horses were to be found; thereupon Colonel Ménard, who was a native of the South, and knew the country thoroughly, remarked that the road from Lyons to Avignon was terribly dilapidated, and that as there was every possibility that our carriages would get damaged, it would be much better to ship them on the Rhone, and descend the river in the midst of charming scenery. My father, who cared very little for the picturesque, would at any other time have rejected this suggestion; but as it gave him the chance of getting away a day sooner from the town of Lyons, where, under the existing circumstances, it was no pleasure to him to stay, he agreed to the journey by water. Colonel Ménard hired a large boat; two carriages were put on board, and very early the nest morning we all embarked. It was very near being the death of us. As usual in autumn, the water was very low; the boat every moment kept touching the bottom and sticking fast, and there was considerable fear that she would go to pieces. We slept the first night at Saint-Péray, the next at Tain, so we took two days to descend as far as the mouth of the Drôme. After that we found much more water, and got along quickly; but about a quarter of a league above Port Saint-Esprit we were struck by such a furious mistral that the boatmen could not reach the bank. They lost their heads, and instead of rowing began to pray, the current and the fierce gale driving the boat all the time towards the bridge. We were on the point of being dashed against one of the piles of the bridge and swamped, when my father and the rest of us caught up the boathooks and held them forward just at the right moment, and so parried the shock. The recoil was so severe that it threw us all on to the seats, but the direction of the boat had been changed, and by almost miraculous good fortune it slipped under the arch. The boatmen recovered a little from their terror, and resumed after a fashion the navigation of their vessel; but the gale continued, and the two carriages catching the wind made it almost impossible to steer. Ultimately we were cast ashore on a large island about six leagues above Avignon. the prow of the boat ran deep into the sand, in such a way that it would be impossible to pull it out without a great many hands, and the vessel took such a list to one side that we we expected her every moment to fill. Some planks were placed between the boat and the shore, and by the help of a rope we led without accident, though not without danger. Though no rain fell it was impossible to think of reembarking as the wind remained so high, so we began to explore the island. It was very large, and we thought at first uninhabited, but at last we discovered a farm. The kind people received us well; we were famishing, having only a little bread with us, and it was impossible to go on board to get more provisions. They told us that the isle was full of fouls, which they allowed to run wild and shot when they wanted them. My father was very fond of shooting, and just now was glad of a distraction, so we borrowed the peasants' guns, took pitchforks and sticks, and started off laughing to shoot fowls. They were not easy to get at, for they flew like pheasants, but we killed several and collected a good many eggs in the woods. On our return to the farm a great fire was lighted in the open. We established ourselves in a bivouac round it, while my father's servant, with the help of the farmer's wife, dressed the fowls and the eggs. We had a merry supper, and afterwards went to bed in the hay, for none of us had the courage to accept the beds which the kind peasants offered us. At daybreak came the boatmen with the news that the wind had fallen; peasants and boatmen all took pick and shovel, and after some hours of hard work they got the vessel afloat again. We continued our voyage to Avignon, and arrived there without further accident , though what we had undergone was improved by rumour till the report reached Paris that my father and all his suite had perished in the waters of the Rhone.

The entry into Avignon, especially by the river, is very picturesque. The old papal castle, the ramparts of the town, its many towers, and the castle of Villeneuve over against it compose a charming picture. At Avignon we found Madame Ménard and one of her nieces; we spent three days in the town, and visited the beautiful country in the neighbourhood, not omitting the fountain of Vaucluse. My father was in no hurry to go, for M. R-------- had written him that, owing to the heat, which was still great in the South, he had been compelled to travel slowly, and there was no use in arriving before the horses. From Avignon we went on to Aix, but on reaching the bank of the Durance, which was then traversed in a ferry-boat, we found the river swollen beyond its banks to such an extent that it would be impossible to cross for five or six hours. We were consulting whether to return to Avignon, when the man who farmed the ferry, who was by way of being a gentleman, and owned a pretty country house on a height a few hundred yards from the bank, came and begged my father to rest there until his carriages could be got across. He accepted, in the hope that it would only be for a few hours; but it would seem that there had been a great storm in the mountains about the source of the Durance, for the river continued to rise all day. We were therefore compelled to accept the offer of shelter for the night which was very cordially made by the master of the house, and as the day was fine we spent the whole of it in strolling about. This episode of our voyage I found very agreeable.

Next morning the stream was running yet more fiercely, and our entertainer, who was a hot Republican, seeing from his knowledge of the river that we were fixed for another twenty-four hours, went off, without a word to us, to the little town of Cavaillon, two leagues away, and announced to the patriots of the neighbourhood that he had General Marbot staying with him. Then be returned in triumph to his mansion, and an hour later we saw a cavalcade arrive, composed of the stoutest patriots of Cavaillon, with a request that my father would kindly accept a banquet which they offered in the name of the chief men of a town always eminent for its Republican sentiments.

My father, who had no taste for honours of this kind, refused at first; but the citizens were so urgent with their representations that everything had been prepared and the guests assembled, that he yielded, and we set out for Cavaillon. The best hotel was adorned with garlands and lined with all the local rank and fashion. After endless compliments we sat down round a huge table covered with the most elaborate dishes, especially ortolans, of which bird that country is a favourite haunt. There were vehement speeches against 'the enemies of liberty.' Numerous toasts were drunk, and we did not break up till ten o'clock--rather too late to return to Bompart. My father could not well leave his entertainers at the moment of rising from table, so he decided to sleep at Cavaillon, and the rest of the evening passed in pretty noisy conversation. Gradually the company dropped off home, and we were left alone. Next morning, on rising, M. Gault asked the landlord what was our share of last night's festivity, supposing it to be a picnic, at which each guest would pay for his own dinner. The man handed a bill for 1,500 francs, the good patriots not having paid a mortal sou! We heard afterwards that some had expressed a wish to pay their share, but the great majority had pointed that to do so would be an insult to General Marbot! Captain Gault was furious; but my father, after recovering from his first astonishment, shouted with laughter, and bade the landlord come for his money to Bompart. We returned thither at once, and said nothing about the affair to our host. His servants were handsomely vailed; and the Durance having fallen, we took the opportunity to cross it, and make our way to Aix. Though I was not old enough to discuss politics with my father, from things which I had heard him say, I was inclined to believe that his Republican views had in the past two years been much modified, and that some of the remarks made at the Cavaillon dinner had given them a final shock; but he never showed any annoyance on the subject of the so-called 'picnic.' On the contrary, he was much amused by the wrath of M. Gault, who kept saying, "I do not wonder that those scamps ordered such quantities of ortolans, regardless of cost, and called for all those bottles of expensive wines."

We slept at Aix, and pushed on to Nice. This was our last day of posting. As we crossed the lovely mountain and forest of the Esterel we met the colonel of the 1st Hussars, who was returning from the army to the depôt at Le Puy en Velay, with an escort of one officer and several troopers leading broken-down horses. His name was M. Picart; he had been left in command of his regiment, though very seldom at the front, in consideration of his merits as an administrator; and he was constantly being sent to the depôt to fit out men and horses, which he forwarded to the combatant squadrons. On seeing him my father stopped his carriage and alighted; and, after presenting me to my colonel, took him aside and begged him to suggest a non-commissioned officer of good character and education who might become my mentor. The colonel named Sergeant Pertelany. My father took a note of the name, and we went on to Nice. There we found Major R-------- installed in a first-rate hotel, with our carriages and horses in very good condition.