Napoleonic Literature
Memoirs of Constant - Vol. I
Chapter XII
Another journey to Boulogne— Visit to the flotilla and renew of tile troops— The line's jealousy of the guard— The First Consul at the camp— The General's anger with the soldiers— Boredom of the officers and pleasures of the camp— Timidity of the Boulognese women— Jealousy of the husbands— visits of the women of Paris, Abbeville, Dunkirk, and Amiens to the camp of Boulogne— Soirées at the house of the mistress of Colonel Joseph Bonaparte— Generals Soult Saint-Hilaire, and Andréossy— the clever woman and the two happy lovers— Curiosity of the First Consul— The First Consul taken for a war commissioner— Commencement of General Bertrand's favor— Regulator Arcambal and the two visitors— The First Consul spying on his brother, who pretends not to recognize him— The First Consul and the innocent games— The First Consul has nothing to give as a forfeit— Note from the First Consul— Naval combat— The First Consul commands a manœuvre and makes a mistake— Error recognized and silence of the General— The First Consul points the cannons and has the bullets reddened— Fight between two Picards— Continual explosion— Dinner to the roar of cannons— English frigate dismasted and brig run down.

IN November of this year, the First Consul returned to Boulogne to visit the flotilla and review some troops which were already assembled there, in the camps destined for the army with which he proposed to descend on England. I have preserved some notes and still more souvenirs of my different sojourns in Boulogne. Never did the Emperor display elsewhere a greater military power. Never did any one see assembled, on one spot, troops that were finer or readier to march at the slightest sign from their chief. It is not surprising, then, that I have found in my memory of this epoch details which no one, I think, has yet thought of publishing. Nor has any person, if I do not deceive myself, been in a better position to know them than I. As to that, the reader will soon be able to judge for himself.

In the different reviews held by the First Consul, he seemed to wish to excite the enthusiasm of the soldiers and their attachment to his person, by the care with which he seized every occasion to flatter their self-love.

One day, having particularly remarked the excellent appearance of the 36th and 57th regiments of the line and of the 10th light infantry, he made all the chiefs come out of the ranks, from the corporals to the colonels, and going amongst them, he showed his satisfaction by reminding them of the occasions when, under the fire of cannon, he had also made complimentary remarks on these three brave regiments. He complimented the non-commissioned officers on the good training of the soldiers, and the captains and chiefs of battalion on the ensemble and the precision of the manœuvres. In a word, each one had his share of praise.

This flattering distinction did not excite the jealousy of the other army corps; each regiment had received that day its greater or lesser portion of compliments, and when the review was ended, they returned peaceably to their cantonments. But the soldiers of the 36th, 57th, and 10th, very proud of having been favored so signally, went in the afternoon to display their triumph in an out-of-town café frequented by the mounted grenadiers of the guard. They began by quiet drinking, talking about campaigns, cities that had been taken, the First Consul, and finally the morning's review; then some young men of Boulogne, who had mingled with the drinkers, took the notion of singing some very recently composed couplets, in which the bravery and the exploits of the three regiments were lauded to the skies, without a word being said of the rest of the army, not even of the guard; and it was in the favorite café of the guard that these couplets were sung! The latter at first maintained a gloomy silence; but presently, pushed too far, they loudly protested against these verses, which they declared detestable. The quarrel began in a very lively fashion; there was a good deal of shouting, they insulted each other, and then separated, but without too much noise, giving a rendezvous for the next morning at four o'clock, in the environs of Marquise, a little village two leagues from Boulogne. It was very late in the evening when the soldiers left the café.

More than two hundred grenadiers of the guard repaired separately to the place of rendezvous, and found the ground occupied by a nearly equal number of adversaries of the 36th, 57th, and 10th. Without explanations, without uproar, each took his sabre in his hand, and fought during more than an hour with appalling coolness. One Martin, a grenadier of the guard, a man of gigantic stature, killed with his own hand seven or eight soldiers of the 10th. They would probably all have been massacred if General Saint-Hilaire, apprised too late of this sanguinary quarrel, had not at once sent out a regiment of cavalry which put a stop to the fighting. The grenadiers had lost ten men, and the soldiers of the line thirteen; the wounded on both sides were very many.

The First Consul went to the camp the next morning, had the provocators of this terrible scene brought before him, and said to them in a severe tone: "I know why you fought; several brave men have succumbed in a struggle unworthy of them and of you. You shall be punished. I have ordered that the verses which were the cause of so many misfortunes shall be printed. I intend that in learning your punishment, the Boulognese shall know that you have forfeited the esteem of your brothers in arms."

Meanwhile the troops, and especially the officers, began to be tired of their stay in Boulogne, a city less adapted, perhaps, than any other to render an inactive existence supportable. Nevertheless they did not murmur, for there had never been found room for murmurs where the First Consul was; but they stormed with bated breath at being kept in camp or in the harbor, with England before them and only nine or ten leagues off. Pleasures were rare in Boulogne; the Boulognese women, charming persons in general, dared not give parties in their own houses, lest they should displease their husbands, very jealous men, like all Picards. And yet there was a fine hall in which balls and soirées might easily have been given; but, although they may have wished to, these ladies dared not make use of it; it was necessary that a certain number of fair Parisians, moved by the sad fate of so many brave and handsome officers, should come to Boulogne to beguile the dreariness of so long a repose. The example of the Parisians piqued the women of Abbeville, Dunkirk, and Amiens, and Boulogne was presently replenished with male and female strangers who came to do the honors of the city.

Among all these ladies, she who attracted most attention by an excellent tone and plenty of wit and beauty, was one Madame F—— , of Dunkirk, an excellent musician, full of gaiety, graces, and youth; it was impossible that Madame F—— should not turn many heads. Colonel Joseph, brother of the First Consul, General Soult, who was afterwards marshal, Generals Saint-Hilaire and Andréossy, and several other great personages were at her feet. Only two succeeded in making themselves acceptable, and of these one was Colonel Joseph, who soon passed in the town for the favored lover of Madame F——. The fair Dunkirker often gave soirées, at which Colonel Joseph never failed to be present. Among all his rivals, and he certainly had a good many, one alone took umbrage at him; this was Soult, the General-n-chief. This rivalry was not at all prejudicial to the interests of Madame F——; like a skilful tactician, she adroitly provoked the jealousy of her two aspirants, by accepting in turn from each of them compliments, bouquets of roses, and better than that occasionally.

The First Consul, informed of his brother's amours, took the whim one evening of going to amuse himself at the little salon of Madame F——, which was merely a room on the first story of a joiner's house in the rue des Minimes. So as not to be recognized, he put on citizen's dress, and wore a wig and spectacles. He took General Bertrand into his confidence, who was already in great favor with him, and who also was careful to do all in his power to make himself unrecognizable.

Thus disguised, the First Consul and his companion presented themselves at Madame F——'s and asked for the major-domo Arcambal. The strictest incognito was recommended to M. Arcambal by the First Consul, who would not have been recognized for all the world. M. Arcambal promised secrecy. The two visitors were announced as civil commissioners at the army.

They were playing bouillotte: the tables were covered with gold, and the game and the punch absorbed the attention of the joyous habitués to such a point that none of them took any heed of the two personages who had just entered. As to the mistress of the house, she had never seen close by either the First Consul or General Bertrand; consequently there was nothing to fear from her. I can well believe that Colonel Joseph recognized his brother, but he gave no sign of it.

The First Consul, avoiding observation as much as possible, watched the looks interchanged between his brother and Madame F——. Convinced of their mutual understanding, he was about to quit the salon of the pretty Dunkirker, when she, who did not fancy seeing the number of her guests diminishing as yet, ran to the pretended commissioners, and graciously detained them, saying that they were going to play little games, and that they must not go without having given forfeits. The First Consul, having consulted General Bertrand by a glance, found it amusing to remain and play at innocent games.

In fact, at the end of several minutes, on the request of Madame F——, the players deserted bouillotte and ranged themselves in a circle around her. They began by dancing the boulangère; then followed the innocent games. It came the First Consul's turn to give a forfeit. He was at first much embarrassed, having nothing about him but a scrap of paper on which he had written the names of certain colonels in lead pencil. However, he confided this paper to Madame F——, begging her not to open it. The wish of the First Consul was respected, and the paper remained closed on the knees of the fair lady until the forfeit should be redeemed. This moment arrived, and some one imposed on the great captain the singular penance of playing the porter, while Madame F——, with Colonel Joseph, should make the voyage to Cythera in the next room. The First Consul acquitted himself with a good grace of the part he had to play; then, after the forfeits had been returned, he signed to General Bertrand to follow him. They went out, and presently the joiner, who lived on the ground- floor, came up to deliver a little note to Madame F——. It contained these words:

"I thank you, Madame, for the amiable welcome you have given me. If you come some day to my baraque, I will again play the porter, if you like; but this time I will not leave to others the care of accompanying you in the voyage to Cythera.

 " Signed: BONAPARTE"

The charming Dunkirker read the note to herself; but she did not allow the givers of forfeits to remain ignorant that they had received the visit of the First Consul. At the end of an hour they separated, leaving Madame F—— alone to reflect on the visit and the note of the great man.

It was during this same sojourn that there was a terrible combat in the roadstead of Boulogne to protect the entry into the port of a flotilla composed of twenty or thirty vessels, coming from Ostend, Dunkirk, and Nieuport, loaded with munitions for the national fleet.

A magnificent frigate, carrying thirty-six cannon, a cutter and a brig of the first rank were detached from the English fleet in order to intercept the Batavian flotilla; but they were received in a manner that deprived them of all wish to return there.

The port of Boulogne was defended by five forts: the fort de la Crèche, the fort en Bois, the fort Musoir, and the ordnance tower, all provided with an extraordinary abundance of cannons and mortars. The line of broadside which barred the entry was composed of two hundred and fifty gunboats and other vessels, the division of imperial gunboats formed part of them.

Each gunboat carried three twenty-four pound cannons, two bow-chasers, and one stern-chaser. Five hundred pieces of ordnance, then, were playing on the enemy independently of all the batteries of the forts. Each piece fired more than three times a minute.

The fight began at one in the afternoon. The weather was superb. At the first discharge of cannon, the First Consul left the headquarters at the Pont-de-Briques, and went off at a gallop, followed by his staff, to give his orders to Admiral Bruix. Presently, wishing to observe for himself the movements of the defence, and aid in directing them, he jumped into a boat rowed by the marines of the guard, and was followed by the Admiral and several officers.

Thus it was that the First Consul went into the midst of the vessels which formed the line of broadside, through a thousand dangers and a rain of shells, bombs, and bullets. Intending to land at Wimereux after having gone through the line, he turned toward the Croï tower, saying that he must double it. Admiral Bruix, alarmed at the thought of the useless danger they were going to incur, represented the imprudence of this manœuvre to the First Consul. "What shall we gain by doubling this fort? Nothing but bullets. . . . General, by turning it we should arrive just as quickly." The First Consul was not of the Admiral's opinion; he persisted in wishing to double the tower. The Admiral, at the risk of being cashiered, gave contrary orders to the sailors; and the First Consul saw himself obliged to pass behind the fort, very much irritated and addressing reproaches to the Admiral, which very soon ceased; for the yawl had hardly passed when a transport boat which had doubled the Croï tower, was crushed and sunk by three or four shells.

The First Consul held his peace on seeing how right the Admiral had been, and the rest of the way was accomplished without hindrance as far as the little port of Wimereux. On arriving there, he went up the cliff to encourage the cannoneers. He spoke to every one of them, slapped them on the shoulder, and incited them to take good aim. "Courage, my friends,'' he said to them; "think that you are fighting fellows who will hold out a long time: send them off with the honors of war." While looking at the fine resistance and the majestic manœuvres of the frigate, he asked: "Do you think the captain can be English, my lads? I don't believe it."

The gunners, inflamed by the words of the First Consul, redoubled their ardor and speed. "Keep looking at the frigate, General," cried one of them; "the bowsprit is going to come down." He had spoken truly; the mast of the bowsprit was cut in two by the ball. "Give this fellow twenty francs," said the First Consul, addressing the officers who had followed him.

Beside the batteries of Wimereux was a forge to heat the bullets. The First Consul watched the smiths at work and gave them his advice. "That is not red enough, my lads; we must send them redder than that . . . come, come!" One of the men had known him as a lieutenant of artillery, and said to his comrades: "He understands these little things finely . . . just as he does big ones."

That day, two soldiers without arms, who, stationed on the cliff, were looking at the manœuvres, began to quarrel with each other in a very comical manner. "Look," said one, "do you see the little corporal down there?" "No, I don't see him."—"What, don't you see him in his yawl?" "Ah yes! but he can't be thinking what he is about, that's sure; if he should get a rap now, he would set the whole army crying. Why does he expose himself like that?"— "Heavens! that's his place." "Not at all."—"I say it is." "No, I say."—"Look here, what would you do to-morrow if the little corporal were killed?" "Eh! but I tell you that's his place," etc.; and not having, as it appeared, strong enough arguments on either side, they came to fisticuffs. It took a good deal of trouble to separate them.

The combat had begun at one o'clock in the afternoon; at about ten in the evening the Batavian flotilla entered the port amidst the most horrible firing I ever saw. In this obscurity, the bombs which crossed each other in every direction formed an arch of fire above the harbor and the city. The continual explosion of all this artillery was repeated by the echoes from the cliffs with a frightful noise; and, singularly enough, not a person in the city was afraid. The Boulognese had become accustomed to danger; they were expecting something terrible every day; they had the preparations for attack or defence under their eyes all the time; they had become soldiers by dint of seeing them. On that day they dined to the roar of cannon, but everybody dined; the dinner hour was neither advanced nor retarded. Men went to their business, women occupied themselves with their housekeeping, young girls practiced the piano. . . . All beheld with indifference the cannon balls passing over their heads, and the curious, whom a desire to see the combat had attracted to the cliff, seemed scarcely more affected than people usually are on seeing a military piece played at Franconi's.

I still wonder how three vessels could have endured for more than nine hours such a violent shock. At the moment when the flotilla entered the port the English cutter had sunk, the brig had been burned by the red-hot balls; nothing remained but the frigate, with its masts shattered, its sails torn, and yet standing as immovable as a rock. It was so close to the line of broadside that the sailors on either side could recognize and count each other. Behind her, at a reasonable distance, were more than a hundred English sail. At last, after ten o'clock, a signal from the English admiral made the frigate put about, and the firing ceased. The line of broadside was not greatly damaged in this long and terrible fight, because the guns of the frigate carried nearly always into the rigging, and never into the body of the boats. The brig and the cutter did the most harm.

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