The Anatomy Of Glory; Napoleon And His Guard, A Study In Leadership

By Commandant Henri Lachouque

The glory of the Imperial Guard resounds above all others in the annals of war. Created, built and nurtured as a bodyguard for Napoleon, it grew from a brigade of less than two thousand men into a virtual army, and became ‘a human fortress which no one but he could dominate and no enemy could penetrate’. And, on such battlefields as Austerlitz, Jena, Friedland, Wagram and Waterloo, it won the laurels of undying fame.
Written by France’s foremost historian of the Napoleonic Wars, Commandant Henry Lachouque, and translated and adapted by Anne S. K. Brown, this sumptuous work is enhanced by over 180 illustrations, including 86 plates in full colour.

With its vivid narrative and lavish illustrations, The Anatomy of Glory can lay justifiable claim to be one of the most magnificent books on military history ever published. The critical acclaim that greeted it upon its first publication provides ample testimony to its reputation:

‘This dramatic account of the birth, life and death of the fabulous Imperial Guard tells a stirring story in English for the first time.’-The Saturday Review of Literature.

‘No one but the most presumptuous who wishes to know about the Imperial Guard can afford to ignore this astonishing compilation. The illustrations alone...are reproduced with a clarity, a beauty, and technical perfection which no one can fail to admire.’ Journal of the RUSI.

‘This sumptuous book ... can yield rich rewards to any reader interested in the fabric of leadership. It is a delight to look at and a pleasure to read.’ -The New York Times.

`... Not the well-worn history of conquest and defeat, but of the grognards themselves, marching through readable pages.’ -History Today.

‘Anne S. K. Brown has used her knowledge of French history and uniforms to render Lachouque freely and vigorously. Napoleon just happened to be fallible. But the superb apparatus of his fallibility is gorgeously recalled in this volume.’ The Scotsman.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wagram Press
• Release date: Nov 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781786255822

Commandant Henri Lachouque

See Book Description

Book preview

This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING—www.picklepartnerspublishing.com

To join our mailing list for new titles or for issues with our books – [e-mail]

Or on Facebook

Text originally published in 1961 under the same title.

© Pickle Partners Publishing 2015, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Publisher’s Note

Although in most cases we have retained the Author’s original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern reader’s benefit.

We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.

THE ANATOMY OF GLORY

Napoleon and his Guard

A STUDY IN LEADERSHIP

With illustrations and maps

Adapted from the French of

HENRY LACHOUQUE

by

ANNE S. K. BROWN

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS 4

DEDICATION 5

PLATES 7

MAPS AND PLANS 13

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE 14

PROLOGUE 17

BOOK I — THE GUARD IS BORN 19

CHAPTER 1 — The Ancestors 19

CHAPTER 2 — The Guard of the Consuls 23

CHAPTER 3 — Marengo 29

CHAPTER 4 — The Guides of Bonaparte 53

CHAPTER 5 — ‘The Guard’ 57

CHAPTER 6 — Savages and Sailors 63

CHAPTER 7 — The Fledglings 90

BOOK II — THE GUARD KEEPS WATCH 94

CHAPTER 1 — The Imperial Guard 94

CHAPTER 2 — Coronation 100

CHAPTER 3 — The March to Vienna 123

CHAPTER 4 — Austerlitz 132

CHAPTER 5 — A Packful of Glory 152

CHAPTER 6 — Precarious Peace 156

CHAPTER 7 — Jena 162

CHAPTER 8 — Berlin 178

CHAPTER 9 — Eylau 183

CHAPTER 10 — The Household Troop 190

CHAPTER 11 — Friedland 197

CHAPTER 12 — Paris 204

BOOK III — THE GUARD SUFFERS 209

THE WAR IN SPAIN AND THE PENINSULA CAMPAIGN 209

CHAPTER 1 — South by Stealth 210

CHAPTER 2 — Madrid 240

CHAPTER 3 — The Marines at Baylén 246

CHAPTER 4 — The Poles at Somosierra 264

CHAPTER 5 — Benavente 273

CHAPTER 6 — The Young Guard 289

CHAPTER 7 — The Long Road Back 293

CHAPTER 8 — Essling 298

CHAPTER 9 — Wagram 303

CHAPTER 10 — Schönbrunn 320

BOOK IV — THE GUARD IN SPLENDOR 324

CHAPTER 1 — Imperial Bridegroom 324

CHAPTER 2 — The Gilded Phalanx 330

CHAPTER 3 — The Fêtes of 1810 336

CHAPTER 4 — Days of Anxiety 341

CHAPTER 5 — The ‘Baby Guard’ 355

CHAPTER 6 — The School of the Guard 360

CHAPTER 7 — Cavaliers and Guns 366

CHAPTER 8 — The Music of the Guard 388

BOOK V — THE GUARD IN ACTION 393

CHAPTER 1 — The ‘Majestic Migration’ 393

CHAPTER 2 — Poland 401

CHAPTER 3 — Smolensk 407

CHAPTER 4 — Borodino 413

CHAPTER 5 — Moscow 431

CHAPTER 6 — The Retreat 438

CHAPTER 7 — Krasny 460

CHAPTER 8 — Crossing the Berezina 466

CHAPTER 9 — The Remnants 473

BOOK VI — THE GUARD TAKES CHARGE 489

CHAPTER 1 — Improvisation 489

CHAPTER 2 — The New Guard 495

CHAPTER 3 — Lützen 505

CHAPTER 4 — Bautzen 513

CHAPTER 5 — The Armistice 519

CHAPTER 6 — Dresden 536

CHAPTER 7 — The Battle of Nations 543

CHAPTER 8 — The Retreat 560

CHAPTER 9 — Invasion Threatens 565

BOOK VII — THE GUARD AT BAY 572

CHAPTER 1 — Alarm and Confusion 572

CHAPTER 2 — Bar-sur-Aube 584

CHAPTER 3 — Brienne 589

CHAPTER 4 — Montmirail 595

CHAPTER 5 — Château-Thierry 616

CHAPTER 6 — Mind over Matter 621

CHAPTER 7 — Craonne 628

CHAPTER 8 — Rheims 637

CHAPTER 9 — Arcis-sur-Aube 642

CHAPTER 10 — The Eleventh Hour 647

BOOK VIII — THE GUARD STAGGERS 653

CHAPTER 1 — The Fall of Paris 653

CHAPTER 2 — Fontainebleau 675

CHAPTER 3 — Betrayal 681

CHAPTER 4 — A Dynasty in Liquidation 686

CHAPTER 5 — ‘Farewell, my children...’ 706

BOOK IX — THE GUARD FALLS 712

CHAPTER 1 — The Dissolution of the Guard 712

CHAPTER 2 — The Royal Grumblers 716

CHAPTER 3 — The Guard at Elba 725

BOOK X — THE GUARD DIES 740

CHAPTER 1 — The Flight of the Eagle 740

CHAPTER 2 — The Restoration of the Guard 750

CHAPTER 3 — The Last Muster 774

CHAPTER 4 — The Last Campaign 782

CHAPTER 5 — Waterloo 791

CHAPTER 6 — The Death of the Guard 802

CHAPTER 7 — The Aftermath 824

APPENDIX ‘A’ — Units of the Guard in Order of their Creation 830

APPENDIX ‘B’ — Levies ordered by Napoleon from 1800 to 1815 836

APPENDIX ‘C’ — Principal Events of Period 1799-1815 838

APPENDIX ‘D’ — Armament and Tactics of the Imperial Guard 841

1. Infantry Small Arms and Bayonets 841

2. Infantry Sabers 842

3. Cavalry Weapons 843

4. Artillery Weapons 844

5. Tactics 846

APPENDIX ‘E’ — Description of the Military Carriage of the late Emperor Napoleon taken at the Battle of Waterloo, with an Account of its Capture 849

EDITOR’S NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS 852

1. Colored Plates 852

2. Uncolored Plates 854

NOTES ON ARTISTS 858

BIBLIOGRAPHY 872

A) MANUSCRIPTS 872

B) PRINTED TEXTS 873

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 883

Maps 885

REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER 891

DEDICATION

To J. N. B.

whom many, given the chance,

would follow to Elba...

PLATE I

Guard drummers beating the Charge (From an original watercolor by Raffet)

PLATES

FRONTISPIECE

Guard drummers beating the Charge, colored plate

End of Book 1 Chapter 3

PLATE 2. Bonaparte defended by grenadiers at Saint-Cloud, colored plate

PLATE 3. Bessières; Murat

PLATE 4. Bonaparte as First Consul

PLATE 5. Trumpeter of horse grenadiers, Guard of the Consuls, colored plate

PLATE 6. Grenadiers, Guard of the Consuls: drummer; officer, colored plate

PLATE 7. French Army on campaign in 1800, colored plate

PLATE 8. French Army crossing the Alps

PLATE 9. Battle of Marengo

PLATE 10. Regiment of chasseurs à cheval, Consular Guard, colored plate

PLATE 11. Desaix; Barbanègre; Daumesnil; Soulès; Caffarelli

PLATE 12. Grenadier Brabant at Marengo

End of Book 1 Chapter 6

PLATE 13. Lieutenant of light artillery, Consular Guard, colored plate

PLATE 14. Lannes; NCO, Company of Veterans

PLATE 15. La Revue de Quintidi (Bonaparte reviewing the Consular Guard)

PLATE 16. Trumpeter of light artillery, Consular Guard, colored plate

PLATE 17. Hulin; Duroc

PLATE 18. Larrey; Ordener; Chauveau; Bigarré; Davout

PLATE 19. Drummer, Legion of elite gendarmes; Costume of Roustam, colored plate

PLATE 20. Decrès; Baste; Fouché; Savary

PLATE 21. Quartermaster, marines of the Guard

PLATE 22. Officer, elite gendarmes, 1803, colored plate

PLATE 23. Conscript treating Guard NCO’s

PLATE 24. Mameluk

End of Book 2 Chapter 3

PLATE 25. Chasseurs of the Consular Guard: sapper; drum major, colored plate

PLATE 26. Captain of the Mameluks, colored plate

PLATE 27. Project for Bonaparte’s triumphal entry into London

PLATE 28. Regiment of horse grenadiers, Consular Guard, colored plate

PLATE 29. Drummer, grenadiers of the Imperial Guard; Italian grenadiers, colored plate

PLATE 30. Bonaparte awarding the Legion of Honor at the Camp of Boulogne

PLATE 31. Arrival of the First Consul in Antwerp, colored plate (double page)

PLATE 32. Drummer of the chasseurs à cheval, Imperial Guard, colored plate

PLATE 33. Napoleon in coronation dress, colored plate

PLATE 34. Imperial family leaving Notre-Dame, colored plate

PLATE 35. Coronation firework display, colored plate

PLATE 36. Imperial family

PLATE 37. Surrender of Ulm

End of Book 2 Chapter 4

PLATE 38. Entry of the Grand Army into Vienna, colored plate

PLATE 39. Clerc; Clément; Berthier; Gros; Morland

PLATE 40. General Rapp announcing the victory to Napoleon at Austerlitz, colored plate (double page)

PLATE 41. Desmichels; Dahlmann; Grand Duke Constantine; Kutuzov

End of Book 2 Chapter 7

PLATE 42. Officer, elite gendarmes, Imperial Guard; trooper, Empress’ Dragoons, colored plate

PLATE 43. Grenadiers and chasseurs of the Guard in surtouts, colored plate

PLATE 44. Ney; Dejean; Lefebvre; Guindey; Arrighi di Casanova

PLATE 45. Napoleon’s entry into Berlin

PLATE 46. Fusilier-grenadier; fusilier-chasseur, colored plate

End of Book 3 Chapter 1

PLATE 47. Wagon train, Guard and Line; Gendarme d’ordonnance, colored plate

PLATE 48. Marie Walewska; Bennigsen; Martin; La Bedoyère; Kellermann

PLATE 49. ‘They grumbled...and kept on following him’

PLATE 50. Battle of Eylau, colored plate

PLATE 51. Fête of the Guard at Tilsit; Kalmucks and Bashkirs

PLATE 52. Guard parading at Tilsit

PLATE 53. Triumphal entry of the Guard into Paris, colored plate

PLATE 54. Daru; Walther; Guyot; Letort

PLATE 55. Krasinski; Lefebvre-Desnoëttes; Delaître; Lariboisière

PLATE 56. Gunner, Guard foot artillery, colored plate

PLATE 57. Officer, Polish light-horse; Guard horse gunner, colored plate

End of Book 3 Chapter 3

PLATE 58. Marines of the Guard in campaign dress, colored plate

PLATE 59. Entry of King Joseph into Madrid

PLATE 60. Lancer of Berg; Royal Guard of Spain, colored plate

PLATE 61. Grivel; Dupont; Royal Family of Spain; Murat; Drouot

PLATE 62. Lasalle at Stettin; Subjugation of Estremadura

End of Book 3 Chapter 5

PLATE 63. Kozietulski; Niegolewski; Suchet; Philippe de Ségur

PLATE 64. The Poles at Somosierra

PLATE 65. Guard chasseur à cheval on campaign, colored plate

PLATE 66. French Army crossing the Guadarramas

PLATE 67. English retreat from Corunna; English gunners evacuating their guns

PLATE 68. 10th English Hussars; colonel in chief, chasseurs à cheval, colored plate

End of Book 3 Chapter 9

PLATE 69. Napoleon in campaign uniform, colored plate

PLATE 70. Württemberg and English household cavalrymen

PLATE 71. Archduke Charles; d’Aboville; Mouton; Masséna

PLATE 72. Death of Lannes at Essling

PLATE 73. Bridge to the Island of Lobau, colored plate

PLATE 74. Prince Eugène, Viceroy of Italy

PLATE 75. French Army at Vienna, 1809

End of Book 4 Chapter 4

PLATE 76. Tirailleur; officer, sappers of the Guard, colored plate

PLATE 77. Funeral of Marshal Lannes

PLATE 78. Napoleon and Marie-Louise at Saint-Cloud, colored plate (double page)

PLATE 79. Tirailleur in bivouac; drummer, Vélites of Turin

End of Book 4 Chapter 7

PLATE 80. Lepic; Tindal; Dorsenne; Mouton-Duvemet; Clarke

PLATE 81. Spanish guerilla chief in camp

PLATE 82. Officer of tirailleurs; voltigeur, colored plate

PLATE 83. Recruits for the Guard; chasseur on the march

PLATE 84. Grenadier, 3rd Dutch Regiment; flanker, colored plate

PLATE 85. Drum major of the grenadiers, colored plate

PLATE 86. Musician of the grenadiers; cymbal player, colored plate

PLATE 87. Drummer of the horse grenadiers, colored plate

PLATE 88. Drummer, Empress’ dragoons, colored plate

End of Book 5 Chapter 4

PLATE 89. Drum major on the march

PLATE 90. Delaborde; Desvaux de Saint-Maurice; Sorbier; Claparède; Barclay de Tolly

PLATE 91. Officer, 2nd ‘Red’ Lancers, colored plate

PLATE 92. Friant; Durosnel; Ney; Mortier

PLATE 93. Italian Guardsmen at Smolensk; Old chasseur in Russia

PLATE 94. Bavarian light-horse and artillery, colored plate

End of Book 5 Chapter 6

PLATE 95. Death of General Caulaincourt at Borodino, colored plate

PLATE 96. Russian Army at Borodino

PLATE 97. Napoleon and his suite; Platov and his Cossacks

PLATE 98. Italian guards of honor, 1812, colored plate

PLATE 99. Burning of Moscow

PLATE 100. Officers, 1st and 3rd Polish Lancers, colored plate

PLATE 101. General Konopka, colonel of the 3rd Lancers, colored plate

PLATE 102. Foreign legions and Lithuanian Tartar; Russian artillery officer.

PLATE 103. Colbert; Michel; Morand; Berthezène

PLATE 104. Grenadier sentry before the Emperor’s tent, colored plate

End of Book 5 Chapter 9

PLATE 105. Retreat of the French Army, colored plate

PLATE 106. Platov; Oudinot; Miloradovitch; Lauriston; Victor

PLATE 107. The Guard at the Berezina

PLATE 108. Crossing the Berezina: first day, colored plate

PLATE 109. Crossing the Berezina: second day

PLATE 110. Scenes of the retreat

End of Book 6 Chapter 2

PLATE 111. Eagle-bearer of the 1st Grenadiers, colored plate

PLATE 112. Trumpeters, Empress’ dragoons, colored plate

PLATE 113. NCO, trumpeter, and chasseur à cheval in walking-out dress, colored plate

PLATE 114. Trumpeters, 1st Polish Lancers, colored plate

End of Book 6 Chapter 7

PLATE 115. Death of Duroc: French and German versions

PLATE 116. Pupille; marshal in campaign dress

PLATE 117. Guard of honor; NCO driver, artillery train, colored plate

PLATE 118. D’Ornano; Duroc; Dautancourt; King of Saxony

PLATE 119. ‘A hero for each victory’

PLATE 120. Battle of Dresden: arrival of peace envoys, colored plate

End of Book 7 Chapter 1

PLATE 121. Poniatowski, colored plate

PLATE 122. Tsar’s arrival in Germany; Russian horse artillery

PLATE 123. Battle of Leipzig, colored plate (double page)

PLATE 124. Bertrand; Nansouty; Wittgenstein; Bernadotte

PLATE 125. Allies giving thanks on Leipzig battlefield

End of Book 7 Chapter 4

PLATE 126. Leipzig after the battle, colored plate

PLATE 127. Napoleon’s bivouac in Thuringia

PLATE 128. The Duel, colored plate.

PLATE 129. Combat between Cossack and Mameluk; Cossacks attacking stragglers

PLATE 130. Skirmish between Polish and Bavarian light-horse

End of Book 8 Chapter 1

PLATE 131. Alexander and his army crossing the Vosges, colored plate

PLATE 132. Berthier; Exelmans; Gérard; Sacken; Yorck von Wartenburg

PLATE 133. Battle of Brienne

PLATE 134. Scout-lancer (éclaireur, 3e Rgt.), colored plate

PLATE 135. Marmont; Macdonald; Zieten; Defrance; Wintzingerode

PLATE 136. Young Guard chasseurs on picket duty

End of Book 8 Chapter 2

PLATE 137. Austrian cuirassiers, colored plate

PLATE 138. Pac; Guye; Blücher; Kleist; Kapzevitch

PLATE 139. Napoleon at Montereau; Polytechnicians at Clichy

PLATE 140. Don Cossack and Crimean Tartar, colored plate

PLATE 141. Talleyrand; Belly de Bussy; Langeron; Schwarzenberg; Sébastiani

PLATE 142. Trumpeter, 2nd Young Guard Chasseurs; Old Guard NCO in walking-out dress

End of Book 8 Chapter 5

PLATE 143. Allied armies entering Paris, colored plate

PLATE 144. King of Rome; Joseph; Marie-Louise; Alexander I; Caulaincourt

PLATE 145. Napoleon’s first abdication at Fontainebleau

PLATE 146. Cossacks marching through Paris, colored plate

PLATE 147. Napoleon’s farewell to the Guard

PLATE 148. Drouot; Cambronne; Krasinski; Jerzmanowski; Louis XVIII

End of Book 9 Chapter 3

PLATE 149. Royal Grenadiers of France, colored plate

PLATE 150. The spring of 1815

PLATE 151. Napoleon’s voyage from Elba

PLATE 152. Napoleon’s landing at Golfe-Juan, colored plate

PLATE 153. French customs officers, colored plate

Opposite page 462

PLATE 154. Napoleon’s march through the Var; Napoleon before Grenoble

PLATE 155. Duc d’Orléans; Drouet d’Erlon; F. Lallemand; Bugeaud; de Tromelin

PLATE 156. The Guard in Paris at the beginning of the Hundred Days, colored plate

PLATE 157. Napoleon in 1815; Pelet; Duhèsme; Grouchy; Poret de Morvan

PLATE 158. Hanoverian troops; English light dragoon officer

PLATE 159. Wellington

PLATE 160. Napoleon with General Haxo; horse gunner at Waterloo

Opposite page 494

PLATE 161. Charge of the French cavalry on Mont-Saint-Jean, colored plate

PLATE 162. Bülow at Waterloo; Prussians at Plançenoit

PLATE 163. ‘Up Guards!’

PLATE 164. Wellington gives the signal for a general advance

PLATE 165. The last stand of the Old Guard

PLATE 166. The flight of Napoleon

PLATE 167. ‘Courage. Resignation.’

PLATE 168. ‘The Emperor in a bottle’

PLATE 169. English encampment in the Bois de Boulogne, colored plate

PLATE 170. Aigleville, the Guard colony in Texas

PLATE 171. Sergeant Taria, grenadiers of the Guard c. 1865

PLATE 172. Lancer Dreux 2nd ‘Red’ Lancers, c. 1865

PLATE 173. Mameluk Ducel, c. 1865

In text, page 59

Uniform button of the Imperial Guard

MAPS AND PLANS

I. Marengo

II. Ulm.

III. Austerlitz

IV. Jena.

V. Eylau

VI. Friedland

VII. Essling

VIII. Wagram

IX. Lützen

X. Bautzen.

XI. Dresden

XII. Leipzig

XIII. Waterloo

XIV. Campaigns of Spain and Russia

General Map: Campaigns of Germany, Austria, and Poland

Campaigns of France and Belgium

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE

WHY, many will ask, this translation and condensation of a work available to all scholars, and to the many laymen who have a reading knowledge of French?

The answer is: because Commandant Lachouque’s masterful history of Napoleon and his Guard answers many questions being asked today. For instance, what is leadership? What makes a military force effective? Is it necessary to be loved in order to be obeyed? What makes men do better than their best? Was Napoleon right or wrong? Was he good or bad?

In this book, which is essentially a diary of an organization that grew from a brigade of under two thousand men into a virtual army without losing its essential character, the technique of leadership, as well as its value, is clearly demonstrated. The Imperial Guard with Napoleon was a human fortress which no one but he could dominate, and no enemy could penetrate. Lightly armed and protected by no more than several layers of cloth, its strength was largely moral. Designed, built, and nurtured as a bodyguard for one man, who nevertheless symbolized a renascent nation, it owed and gave its ultimate loyalty to him.

Neither phrases nor philosophies could confuse the Guardsman; he was the Emperor’s man. The Emperor did not have to be perfect to command his allegiance; but he had to be just, attentive, and grateful.

Napoleon never forgot these primary rules. Thus, when misfortune overtook him his Guard remained faithful. His departure for Elba is one of the most singular and inspiring examples of personal loyalty in all history.

Napoleon was loved by men from whom all other loves and loyalties had been systematically removed. The officers of the Guard, like General Desvaux, General Curial—indeed Napoleon himself—wrote their wives. Some, like Marshal Lefebvre, went to pieces at the death of a beloved son. But the soldiers mostly wrote their parents. And all seemed to be talking to themselves about the wars, about the Emperor.

The modern demagogic approach seemed to apply then as now, with a few notable exceptions. The pay in the Guard was good, exceptionally good for that day; so were the food, the beds, the clothes, the entertainments, the rewards and advancement, the medical care, the retirement benefits. But the hours were long, the discipline stringent, privacy and vacations virtually non-existent, and the work monotonous, arduous, or lethal. In short, a career in the Guard led either to death or glory. You suffered, you died miserably but gloriously; or you lived in the certain knowledge that you were a man, a prince among men, and possibly a hero.

For your hard and glamorous master was a genius. He counted on you. If you did not fail him, you could safely put your life into his hands and profit from doing better than your best. Because you were the elect of the supreme mortal authority. Therefore, your self-respect was invincible and was matched by your prestige.

Viewed in the light of today, Napoleon’s ideas for Europe were not as chimerical as they may have seemed to his contemporaries. A federated Europe, based upon the classical Roman Empire, might have recreated a Pax Romana that would have changed the course of nineteenth and twentieth-century history and cleared its pages of much blood. A greatly magnified Switzerland on one side of the Atlantic, with a dynamic—if less heterogeneous—United States on the other, is a dream Western nations could pleasantly dally with amid today’s alarms.

The problems of Asia Napoleon could not solve, though he realized in advance of his time that they were vast and dreadful. England’s splendid isolation from a continent only a few miles off was but an adumbration of the isolation of the United States in 1920; though the historic British role of troubling continental waters in order to fish in them was then entering its last profitable phase. America and Africa intrigued and disillusioned Napoleon in turn. His hard-headed Latin commonsense ultimately eschewed the dream of empire beyond the range of his restless traveling coach.

With so many good ideas, then why did he fail? Because he was in a hurry. In the case of some geniuses and all dictators, motion eventually intoxicates. Once intoxicated, its initiator tries to make it perpetual. Napoleon’s early dream of peace, of completion, eventually became a nightmare. In full swing, the man of action never really wants to stop; and when he must, he has forgotten how.

The reader will wonder whether it was in fact Russia, or whether it was not rather Spain that sowed the seeds of Napoleon’s downfall. The Russian campaign was short and disastrous, but hardly fatal. The Spanish venture was poisonous from the outset; it was conceived in cupidity and carried out in absentia. The seeds of dissent and disillusion were sown in the Guard from 1807 on in that stark and impassioned land where each peasant was more effectively armed by his sense of injury than by a dozen arsenals. Wellington deserves more credit for making the most of the opportunity to march against Napoleon’s demoralized lieutenants than for his hard fought but conventional victory over the tired and bemused fox himself at Waterloo.

Napoleon was no ordinary genius. His intellect and energy, his universality and ubiquity, his infinite imagination mark him as a superman. But as a man, he had the ordinary range of faults and virtues: vain, arrogant, devious, impetuous, and often callous towards others, he was direct, solicitous, and magnanimous towards his soldiers. He had an unrivaled capacity for inspiring men to serve their best selves in serving him.

When welcoming his ‘baby Guard’, did he promise the pupilles a happy life, with ice cream—or its equivalent—on Sundays? No. He said: ‘In admitting you to my Guard I assign you a duty that is hard to perform.’ And then, by way of reward, he promised to make them ‘worthy of their sires’.

This book is a free translation of a monumental work from which, with the author’s permission, I have eliminated many names and details. In those passages dealing with the initial organization and many reorganizations of the Guard as its tasks increased, I have tried to preserve the details of its basic structure as Napoleon conceived it.

For this nucleus of elite soldiers was able ‘by precept and example’ to inspire raw recruits to brilliant performance. The Guard was ever changing. Its old members were continually being transferred at a higher rank to the army where their prestige, technique, and boundless faith in the Emperor served to inoculate the common clay of the Line. Conversely, the heroes and elite of the Line were constantly rewarded by admission to the Guard. Thus the Guard never staled, and this dynamic corps ultimately permeated the whole military structure of France, enabling the Emperor to perform miracles on the battlefield while conserving an incorruptible force which had earned its right to be trusted.

Commandant Lachouque has told the story, built around quotations from the letters and reports of the participants, in pithy soldier speech. This I have tried to render into colloquial English.

Above all, he has convinced us that battles are not decided by generals and logistics alone, but also by the performance of a nucleus of truly dedicated men.

Harbour Court

Newport, Rhode Island

31 October 1959

PROLOGUE

November Night

SAINT-CLOUD, 19 brumaire, year VIII.{1} Midnight.

The Directory had just expired. In the Orangerie, denuded of its windowpanes, a few smoking lamps and four candles in sconces above the empty tribune shed a sepulchral light over the overturned benches, tattered hangings, bonnets shorn of plumes, torn cloaks, togas, badges—all vestiges of the parliamentary rout. People came and went, talking loud. It was the usual audience of great political events: elegantly dressed women exposing their persons to the maximum, foppish men, intriguers, generals, flunkeys, prophets of the future. Even the expelled deputies came running from neighboring cafés to answer the huissier’s summons, ready to rally to the new government. They discussed the day’s events, congratulated one another, and saluted the dawn of a new day and the happy era about to commence.

The coup d’état had to be ratified, the semblance of an assembly convoked, an appeal to the nation drafted, the oath administered to the new Consuls...Oath to whom? To what? The Consulate was but a provisional government. The old constitution was dead and the new one yet to be born. Bah! They would take an oath to the Republic, to liberty, equality...

2 a.m. The drums beat the salute ‘Aux Champs’. A nervous little general, an unfrocked priest, and a former justice of the peace{2} could be discerned in the gloom. These men were the Consuls of the Republic. Behind them pressed the curious. The rustle of silks, the jingling of sabers, and the buzz of conversation drowned out the voice of ex-President Lucien Bonaparte as he read the oath; but the threefold response ‘Je le jure!’—‘I swear!’—was audible, greeted by perfunctory cries of ‘Vive la République!’

Outside in the chill November wind the soldiers shivered behind their stacked arms. There were about eight hundred, under the command of Adjutant General Blanchard. These old partisans of the Republic were revolutionists who had served under successive regimes as National Gendarmes, Grenadier-Gendarmes of the Convention, and Grenadiers of the National Representatives. They were now called Grenadiers of the Legislature. They wore blue coats with scarlet revers, black gaiters, and fur bonnets, and smoked the company pipe in succession while awaiting the outcome of the affair in which they had just taken part without understanding precisely what had happened.

Contradictory shouts of ‘Outlaw!’ ‘Long live Bonaparte!’ ‘Vive la République!’ ‘Every man for himself!’ ‘Down with the tyrant!’ and ‘Long live the conqueror of Italy and Egypt’ had been eclipsed when Generals Leclerc and Murat roared: ‘Throw these people out!’ indicating the members of the Assembly to the troops directly charged with their protection. And the Assembly voted them a testimonial!

Besides the Grenadiers of the Legislature there were grenadiers of the Guard of the Directory, one hundred foot dressed like the Line except that they wore bearskin bonnets with brass plaques. Flanking these were twenty musicians in hats and, drowsing behind them, their bridles over their arms, 100 horse grenadiers bundled up in their white cloaks.

All these soldiers, who now had nothing more to guard, were bound together by a common anxiety.

Suddenly Bonaparte appeared. He knew these veterans whom he had commanded four years before in vendémiaire{3} when he had cited the best for ‘never having forgot for a moment that they were fighting Frenchmen possessed by madness rather than malice...’

‘Grenadiers’, he said, ‘from now on the Guards of the Legislature and the Directory will be called the Guard of the Consuls. I have never wished to be a party man...’

This profession was interrupted by cries of ‘Vive le général Bonaparte!’

While his carriage proceeded at a good clip towards his house in the Rue Victoire, the grenadiers took the road to Paris singing the ‘Ça ira!’ This cry of hope arising from the nascent revolution had been later parodied and associated with the Saturnalias of the Red Terror. But on this night, inaugurating the ‘greatest government France has ever known’, it was sung in the Jacobin version of 1793 by men satisfied with themselves and content with their new master. In the words of Albert Vandal, they were perhaps ‘persuaded that they had saved the Republic and the Revolution...’ One can be sure they were pleased to have ‘deserved well of their country’ while preserving their posts in an elite corps, with all its material and moral advantages.

It is the same under all regimes.

As for their thirty-year-old chief, who had seized power in an atmosphere laden with the wreckage of the Revolution, he had just performed the initial act of his political life as sovereign in creating an elite corps, a symbol of obedience, heroism, and devotion to France and to the Emperor, whose memory is imperishable and whose glory is eternal: the Imperial Guard.

BOOK I — THE GUARD IS BORN

CHAPTER 1 — The Ancestors

IN the distant past the chief was served by a mayor, or ‘major’, who guarded his door, and a constable who took charge of his stables, assisted by a marshal.

About A.D. 1000 armed men guarded the outside of the palace while palatine ‘officers’ (since they held office) policed the interior.

In the Louvre Philip Augustus was guarded by sergeants-at-arms renowned for their strength and bravery; hence the word ‘noble’ derived from nobilis, meaning renowned or known. Soldiers wearing rich hauberks and carrying bows, swords, or maces marched in the royal processions and accompanied the King to war.

More than three centuries later Francis I entered Milan accompanied by a Grande Garde of 200 mounted gentlemen, appointed to ‘stand watch and guard at night’ when the King was in camp and ‘at all times during the day’, followed by a Petite Garde composed of Scottish and French archers, Cent-Suisse (100 Swiss), Gardes de la Porte, and the provost of the palace. This latter personage, a direct descendant of the mayors of the palace, policed the King’s lodging with 36 archers. Three hundred years later we shall meet these men again in the Jeu de Paume.{4}

As the military spirit—‘that spontaneous conjunction of patriotism, a taste for arms, and rumors of war’—developed in France, the Monarchy ensured to its institutions a certain continuity. Louis XIV united all guard corps into the Maison du Roy, or ‘King’s Household’, which gave him prestige as well as cadres of officers for his army and a cavalry reserve in war. In addition to the ancient corps, the Gendarmes, Light-Horse (Chevau-légers), Musketeers, and Horse Grenadiers, selected from the finest soldiers in the army, provided the royal armies with a household brigade of 6,000 horse.

The infantry of the Maison du Roy was composed of the Gardes françaises, an alert, aggressive, and warlike troop, and the Gardes suisses, a model of discipline and fidelity.

‘You cannot beat the Maison du Roy’, said the Duke of Marlborough, ‘you have to destroy it.’ This feat was eventually performed by the French themselves.

Vigorous, ardent, and impulsive, the French amused themselves during the latter half of the eighteenth century by talking nonsense and paying court to the King of Prussia{5} who consistently defeated them. Louis XV recognized the danger but could not avert it.

Saint-Germain, war minister of the weak Louis XVI, regarded the Maison du Roy as both costly and obsolete and undertook to abolish it. Between 1776 and 1786 all the cavalry corps were disbanded except the Gardes du corps which was reduced in strength. The Gardes françaises betrayed the king and were dissolved after the fall of the Bastille, followed by the Gardes du corps in 1791. Still King of France, though he no longer reigned, Louis was subsequently guarded by a troop called the ‘Constitutional Guard’ which was disbanded the following year. Less than three months later royalty was abolished. The Swiss Guard rushed forward at the Tuileries to die at the steps of the throne. The King was guillotined in January 1793.

The kings and their guards were dead. A thousand years of French monarchy fell into the abyss. All men were leveled. Nothing remained except a tradition—and one corps which was spared by its own defection.

This was the Provost Guard{6} of 140 officers and 79 men standing guard at the Salle des Menus Plaisirs{7} in Versailles during the sitting of the Estates-General in June of 1789. When the session was dissolved the Third Estate took refuge in the Jeu de Paume, which event constituted the initial act of the Revolution. Sent to expel them, the Provost Guards offered them protection instead, thus winning the favor of the deputies who rechristened them ‘Guards of the Assembly’. Several of them turned up later in the Guard of the Consuls.

Thus through many incarnations the eldest corps of the Maison du Roy bridged the gap between the Royal and Imperial Guards.

The Guards of the Assembly were replaced in 1791 by the National Gendarmes, though the roster was but little changed. The following year the Gendarmes were purged by Danton. Their successors, the ‘Grenadier-Gendarmes’, wore red epaulets and bearskin bonnets and were good republicans, expelling all their officers except a single lieutenant who prudently assumed the title of ‘Citizen Villeminot’ thereafter. Bernelle, who later made a career in the Imperial Guard, was elected captain. Another lieutenant, Ponsard by name, reappeared as a major six years later when he led the first battalion of the Grenadiers of the Legislature to Saint-Cloud on the day of the coup d’état. He ended as a general in 1813.

After the revolution in the Vendée, where many grenadier-gendarmes were killed and even more deserted, the corps was re-formed in 1794. Now coifed in the democratic hat, it guarded the doors of the Convention so poorly that it was replaced by a new corps recruited from the army.

The new Guard, called ‘Grenadiers of the National Representatives’ and later ‘Grenadiers of the Legislature’, was composed of old soldiers with good service records and experienced officers. But its members were soon contaminated by politics and their discipline destroyed. These ‘Tricolor Guards’ became in time a veritable Praetorian Guard.{8}

The corps was a body without a head, afflicted with all the ills of the regime. Citizen Villemenot reported: ‘Certain grenadiers...cannot resist the temptations of a corrupt city like Paris...It is impossible to keep them in barracks...They abuse and maltreat the citizens...Some have jobs in Paris and only show up for meals.’ Villemenot was returned to the Line—probably for daring to tell the truth.

The corps numbered 1,200 men appointed by the Directory, and its grenadiers ranked with corporals of the Line. Their uniform was a blue coat faced with scarlet worn with red epaulets, white waistcoat and breeches, and a fur bonnet whose plate bore a grenade and the device ‘Garde du Corps législatif’.

Many of its officers and NCO’s (non-commissioned officers) turned up later in the Consular and Imperial Guards, including Adjutant General Blanchard, a former constabulary guard; Ponsard, mentioned above; Captain Couloumy, nephew of the Convention’s president; Chéry, a gunner in the La Fère artillery before Lieutenant Bonaparte’s arrival; Bernelle, Faucon, and Flamand, future adjutant general of the Imperial Guard and baron of the Empire, etc., etc. These were seasoned campaigners, but the Revolution had spoiled them.

The grenadiers were no less spoiled. Some months before the coup d’état they sent a petition to the ‘Fathers of the People’—as the Directors were called—protesting an order to wear full dress every day.

‘Well, what next?’ the petition ran. ‘Is Liberty, then, to become an empty word?...Revoke therefore, Citizens, revoke this order to be always in full dress! Are waistcoats and breeches to become an apple of discord thrown into the Patriots’ midst to divide them and strengthen the Royalists? Not in the accoutrements, but in the heart lies the sanctuary of Republicanism...’

One imagines himself to be dreaming when he reads such drivel which, nevertheless, was solemnly transmitted to the Minister of War who refused the request with lengthy explanations and apologies.

In 1796 the Guard of the Directory was formed to escort the Directors ‘in public ceremonies and parades’. Its recruiting standards were strict. Candidates had to be literate, over five-foot-six, with a perfect conduct record, and must have participated in three campaigns. The army commanders were instructed to choose their best-qualified men and send them to the Directors for further scrutiny.

The infantry of the new Guard wore the grenadier uniform with buttons stamped with a trophy of arms and ‘Garde du Directoire exécutif’ in abbreviated form, and red cuffs slashed and closed with a white flap. The cavalry uniform was similar, though the epaulets were replaced by red trefoil shoulder knots piped with white, and an aiguillette—the distinctive insignia of guard cavalry—worn on the right shoulder. White or buff leather breeches were worn with top boots and spurs, and white cloaks.

The twenty-five piece band was furnished by the Conservatoire and led by Guiardel, its first clarinet. The musicians wore plain blue coats with red turnover collars edged with white, and red turned-back cuffs trimmed with a gold musician’s stripe. They wore no epaulets.

The corps contained a staff, two companies of grenadiers, and two of horse grenadiers. Lt. General Krieg was its commander. His aide-de-camp Dumoustier will be heard from later. Among the adjutants were Majors{9} Fuzy, former subaltern of the Gardes françaises who had led a volunteer corps in five campaigns, and Oehler, a former royal drum major who had served in the Army of the Rhine and been wounded in the Vendée.

Major Dubois commanded the foot battalion. His ensign, Lemarois, came from the police legion. Captains Schobert from the 96th Demi-brigade, Auger from the national guard via the 10th Cavalry, and Lieutenant Vézu, son of the Ain deputy, all reappeared in the Guard of the Consuls.

Though most of the Guardsmen were good men the army commanders took advantage of the opportunity to rid themselves of some questionable characters. ‘We have married troopers and soldiers living in concubinage’, wrote Blanchard, ‘and about thirty who should be expelled...having done irreparable harm to many fine soldiers...’

The Guard of the Directory did not increase the prestige of the government. Nevertheless, the ‘Maison de la Directoire’, as it was quaintly termed in a decree of 1798, was in a satisfactory military state when Drum Major Sénot raised his baton at Saint-Cloud on the 19th brumaire (10 November) signaling his drummers to beat the Charge at the gates of the Orangerie.

That night the Guards of the Legislature and Directory were incorporated into the Guard of the Consuls.

CHAPTER 2 — The Guard of the Consuls

ON 28 November, eighteen days after the coup d’état, the Guard of the Consuls was officially created out of the Guards of the Directory and Legislature.

Bonaparte was in a hurry. He had seized power by a stroke of luck. Tired of disorder, revolution, ministerial crises, and corrupt politicians, the Parisians were indifferent. What did another change of government matter to them? A civic fête, speeches, singing...And the country would continue its headlong course towards the abyss.

The new Consul must regularize his position, repair the injustices, restore the currency, put the country’s affairs in order, repel the invader, and avenge the nation’s defeats with victories in the war that had been raging for the past eight years. For France, infatuated with ‘la gloire’, had been humiliated. It was a Titan’s task.

Bonaparte purged the two corps of ‘dangerous Robespierrists’, overage officers, and men with unsavory reputations, and retained and flattered the rest. He had Grenadier Thomé, who had ‘preserved him from the daggers on the 19th brumaire’, rewarded by Josephine, and granted him a bonus of 600 francs.

On 2 December Citizen Murat, a lieutenant general,{10} was named commander in chief and inspector general of the new Guard.

Several weeks later Bonaparte wrote the following:

‘The First Consul{11} intends that the Guard shall be a model for the army. Admission will be restricted to men who have performed heroic actions, have been wounded, or have otherwise given proof...in several campaigns of their bravery, patriotism, discipline, and exemplary conduct.

‘They must be not less than twenty-five, between 1.78 and 1.84 metres{12} in height, of robust constitution and exemplary conduct. They must have participated in three campaigns in the Wars of Liberty and know how to read and write.’

To prove that something had indeed changed, he added: ‘The councils of administration of the several corps shall be held responsible for their choice of candidates.’

This was only a beginning.

The decree organizing the Guard of the Consuls was dated 13 nivôse year VIII (3 January 1800). A total complement of 2,089 men provided for a general staff, 50 musicians divided between infantry and cavalry, two battalions of grenadiers, a company of light infantry, two squadrons of light cavalry, a company of mounted chasseurs,{13} and one of light artillery including a detachment of horse artillery.

The decree established the pay for each grade and set up modest regimental funds for uniforms and equipment to be reimbursed by deductions from the soldiers’ pay. Later the infantry band was increased to fifty pieces, and a kettledrummer assigned to the horse Guard.

The new Guard was of modest size, but the current political and financial situation imposed caution. That the Guard’s organization progressed smoothly was due to the popularity and prestige of the First Consul, and to his determination to reorganize the army which had been left in a shocking material and moral state by the old government.

The revolutionists had destroyed every vestige—real or imaginary—of the old regime except its uniform. Even while stamping out despotism and decapitating the king, the Parisians were seized with a sudden passion for traditional military dress, for joining the army, for discipline ‘by free consent’, and for practising marksmanship in the streets of the capital.

The painter David tried to persuade them to adopt new fashions and dress in the Roman style, but the kilts of the École Militaire{14} met with small success. The Jacobins clung to the historic dress of the Gardes françaises which, besides being of the national blue, white, and red, was, after all, the uniform worn by the stormers of the Bastille! Moreover, a long war had emptied the clothing magazines and had left no time to destroy all the trappings of Tyranny.

Consequently, peasants, bourgeois, and workmen, young and old, conscripts and volunteers, were rigged out in old-fashioned regimentals, usually outgrown as well, with pouchbelts too long and pantaloons of every hue, and were brigaded with veterans of America whose coats had not yet been dyed blue.{15} Rabid Jacobins and eager bourgeois were drilled in the rude craft of warfare alongside the king’s troops turned republican, and bawled at by sergeants whose language had not changed one whit. These same men would presently be led to defeat, and later to victory, by chiefs chosen in many cases from the rank and file.

One might suppose that all vanity had been dispersed by the breeze of equality blowing through their ranks; but the national pride was at stake. The soldiers were disgusted with their clothes, with the faded liberty caps, the mangy bearskin bonnets, the ill-matched shoes. Such garments lowered their prestige.

The commanders gradually grew aware of their own importance and adopted the epaulets, sashes, and plumes that they had envied the marquises in the old days. Hence Augereau was laced with gold from head to foot, and the most ardent Jacobins trailed swords which were veritable works of art.

Unconsciously the soldiers followed suit, relieving their squalor by the surprising—if typically French—expedient of adding bits of finery such as grenade and hunting horn insignia, epaulets and shoulder pieces to their ragged regimentals to distinguish their unit (which of course was the best in the demi-brigade!).

With the use of better cloth, real leather, gold lace, and plumes a new type of soldier appeared in the Consular army at the dawn of 1800. Of this army the Guard prided itself on being the criterion. Guardsmen ruined themselves for clothes and accoutrements. An officer thought nothing of spending 35 francs{16} for a bearskin bonnet and 18 for a pair of boots.

Workmen, peasants, ex-policemen, valets, clerks, and low characters with degrading occupations who were nonetheless brave and hardy, developed a sudden taste for soldiering and for those bits of lace and plumes that pleased the girls. They had come under the spell of the uniform and discovered the prestige of the sword which set them apart from men who wore neither. They strutted a bit, felt the first stirrings of esprit de corps, and performed prodigies of valor.

Under the vigorous thumb of Bonaparte who loved and understood them they pulled themselves together, repaired their tattered garments, and forgot their empty bellies. Now at last their records, their conduct under fire, their wounds and qualities counted for something. The ranks of an elite corps were opened to them—something like the old Royal Guard, they said, ‘only now it belonged to this amazing little brat of a conqueror who cut you in on the glory, and claimed that nothing rated with him like performance!’

Officers, NCO’s, and soldiers of the new Guard of the Consuls, whose new blue, white, and red uniforms looked like those of the Gardes françaises, combed their queues and tied them just two inches below the base of the skull, shined their boots, chalked their crossbelts, cleaned their muskets, installed their plumes, polished their harness, and groomed their horses to appear before their commander Murat—that connoisseur of panache—in the Luxembourg gardens on 18 February before submitting next day to a minute inspection in the Place de la Carrousel, under the gimlet eye of the First Consul who had just moved to the Tuileries.

Doubtless some had dirty hands, but all wore clean gloves. The great mystery of military dress, which every army must preserve and every nation honor if it hopes to survive, had performed a metamorphosis. The men had performed no miracles, to be sure. Here and there an ornament was missing from a skirt-flap or some other detail was wrong, but the garters were pulled tight and the queues aligned, and Paris proclaimed the parade ‘impeccable’.

There was Caffarelli, the adjutant general; an old Noailles dragoon, he once commanded the 9th Legion. Behind him, under bobbing tricolor plumes, marched the senior adjutants, Colonel Fuzy of the Guard of the Directory with Blanchard and Ponsard of the Legislature Grenadiers. Majors Dubois, Auger, and the good Oehler of the Guard of the Directory marched in the second file.

The sappers, who wore leather aprons, were greeted with applause. Drum Major Sénot, a captain in the Austrasie Regiment in the king’s time, wore a blue coat with white facings, laced with gold on collar, cuffs, and revers. His epaulets were gold, as was the binding of his hat with its tricolor plumes. With a silver-pommeled, silver-tipped baton he led twenty-four drummers, each a virtuoso.

The band followed—the old band of the Directory—still led by Guiardel, playing hymns and popular songs including Dans la rue Chiffonnière whose tune was borrowed by a soldier-poet for the stirring march the men sang later at Marengo and during the Empire to the words: ‘On va leur percer lefanc.’{17}

Colonel Frère, an ex-pharmacist, passed by at the head of the infantry. Leading the first grenadier battalion was Soulès, a compatriot of Lannes, flanked by Adjutant Lieutenant Flamand.

The troops filed past by company. These were professionals, no longer young, and some were scored with honorable scars. All wore blue coats with white revers and scarlet cuffs, white waistcoats and breeches, red epaulets, and bearskin bonnets. Their white leather saber and pouchbelts were crossed over the breast.

Under the heavy headdresses adorned with gilt plaques and tasseled cords one saw the familiar faces of Captain Lemarois, former ensign of the Guard of the Directory; Charpentier of the Gardes françaises; Lieutenants Vézu and Carré. There were newcomers, too, such as Lajonquière of the 4th Demi-brigade, a hero of Arcole. But almost all the lieutenants and half the captains were from the old Guards.

Père Tortel, a veteran of fifty-three, commanded the second battalion whose subaltern adjutant Faucon came from the Guard of the Directory.

Six companies filed past, all commanded by old Guardsmen such as Chéry, Bernelle, and Captain Ragois. The latter had served in the horse chasseurs before joining the infantry in Italy; then in the Guides of Bonaparte whom he knew at Toulon. Wounded on the Mincio and at Arcole, Ragois had just arrived from Egypt.

The light infantry company had not yet been formed. The horse Guard’s twenty-five musicians came from the infantry.

Colonel Bessières rode at the head of the cavalry. All the horse grenadiers of the Directory were present, including Major Oulié, Adjutant Dahlmann, and Captain Barbanègre from the guides.

The two squadrons were superb. Their dignified uniform would never change from the grenadier coat with orange aiguillette and shoulder knots. Their white leather breeches were tucked into high boots. Their fur caps were trimmed with orange cords and had no plates. Their horse furniture was blue, the housings and triple-tiered holsters trimmed with orange braid, and their white cloaks were neatly folded over the portmanteaux. Their standard was borne by an old NCO of the Guard of the Directory. Some of the lieutenants, like Auzoni, came from the guides; others, like Rossignol, from the Line.

At first this corps was designated ‘light cavalry’, and later ‘line cavalry’; but from this moment on it took the name ‘horse grenadiers’ in memory of the heroic giants of the Maison du Roy.

Next came the company of chasseurs à cheval, or mounted chasseurs, composed of guides from Egypt and led by the First Consul’s stepson and aide-de-camp, Captain Eugène Beauharnais. There were 112 sunburned fellows, less precise in formation and movement than the grenadiers, but bold and dashing withal.

The light artillery, wearing blue and scarlet hussar uniforms, closed the parade. Captain Couin, twice wounded before he commanded them in Egypt, marched at their head. Dogureau and Digeon were second captains as they had been in the East. Chauveau and Dubuard (called Marin) were first lieutenants, and Berthier a second lieutenant. All of them had just returned from Egypt with Bonaparte.

Apart from several new faces and uniform changes, these were virtually the Tricolor Guards of the days before brumaire.

At thirty, an age when men normally start their careers, the First Consul showed himself a wise commander and an incomparable leader of men. Watching the parade of what he was pleased to call ‘his Guard,’ he thought perhaps that now he was master in place of the king he had once served. Nevertheless, he must proceed slowly and discreetly.

He leaned for support on this handful of veterans of obscure antecedents and doubtful pasts, some of whose officers could barely sign their names; yet they had served him in the wars and at the coup d’état. His knowledge of men was sufficiently profound to inspire their devotion; besides, he was prepared to grant them special favors.

Their pay—which interests soldiers in every age—was substantial. First, all arrears had been paid up. This considerable sum was much appreciated. Whereas a lieutenant general drew 12,000 francs, the commander in chief of the Guard drew 24,000, and so on down the line to the grenadiers who drew 240 francs in the Guard as against 128.10 in the army. This golden bridge was built by maintaining a separate pay office for the Guard.

As in the Directory, men were assimilated into the Guard one grade above their rank in the Line. The allotments for clothing, subsistence, harness, and fuel were all higher. The councils of administration of each corps passed on the purchases of cloth, wine, flour, and vinegar—a precious prerogative at that epoch. The inspector{18} verified the accounts, but the Guard ran its own administration and enjoyed complete autonomy.

If the War Ministry had cause to wonder at the word ‘equality’, what must the Maréchal de Ségur, that hero of the Seven Years’ War and former minister of Louis XVI, have thought on being rendered honors by the Guard of the Consuls when he visited the Tuileries on 6 March? Ruined by the Revolution, he came to thank the young Corsican (whom he had appointed to the La Fère Artillery fifteen years before as a matter of routine) for granting him the pay of a lieutenant general.

Whatever their individual reactions, the new ‘popular knighthood’ presented arms without batting an eye.

Nevertheless, the discipline was not perfect. Bessières had to request the chasseurs à cheval to refrain from smoking their pipes ‘while escorting the Council of State’, as well as to salute generals and other officers. They should ‘set an example in all things’. In the face of pitched battles between the gunners of the Guard and the Line, Bessières wrote: ‘A soldier of the Guard should realize that the troops of the Line are his comrades-in-arms’.

Punishment rained down on the heads of the horse grenadiers for ‘frequenting low dives’. Ordener prescribed a ‘uniform length of hair; the queue must be six inches long’. It was forbidden to leave quarters unarmed after ten o’clock. The prescribed dress was blue surtouts{19} with collars and black cravats. In this uniform the guard was mounted at Malmaison, but on quintidi and décadi{20} full dress was worn.

Whatever else it may have been, the Guard of the Consuls was a valuable political instrument, a fact that did not escape Bonaparte. But its military value and its conduct in the field remained to be demonstrated.

The first months of 1800 were filled with maneuvers and reviews. Boots were fitted by the master bootmakers. Leather strapping was added to the traveling overalls.

What was up?

CHAPTER 3 — Marengo

ON 11 April 1800 Bessières led the Guard, equipped for war, to Corbeil. From there they left for Nyon. Here they found the First Consul determined to liberate Italy and consolidate his position at home by a decisive victory.

For a bonus of 500 francs for every cannon hoisted over the Italian Alps, the grenadiers harnessed themselves to the guns and hauled the artillery up to the monastery of St. Bernard. ‘And they expect their little brats of errand boys to hoist such contraptions!’ the soldiers exclaimed. The horses and the cavalrymen in their heavy boots slipped and slid on their way up to the Hospice where each man drained a glass of wine provided by the monks.

It appeared they were going to the assistance of the Army of Italy which still lacked 45,000 of the 53,000 pairs of breeches it had requisitioned! In any case, the old-timers were not obliged to the Milanese who, whether from surprise or fright, neglected to throw flowers at them or cheer them.

Nevertheless, the ‘Tondu’{21} heard a Te Deum in the Cathedral and Grassini perform at La Scala, harangued the bishops, and held a review at the Castello. But at 11 p.m. on 7 June Bourrienne{22} reported that Masséna, having exhausted his supply of bread concocted of starch, linseed, and cacao, had surrendered Genoa.

Alert, everybody!

On the 9th it rained on the road to Pavia. The army crossed the Po at San Cipriano. Up front Lannes covered himself with glory at Montebello, and the Guard, drenched to the bones, slept at Stradella. ‘I have a wretched cold’, Bonaparte wrote Josephine.

Where were the ‘Kaiserliks’{23} of Melas? Marching to Genoa? At Alessandra?...What did Desaix think?

Having made his escape from Egypt, Desaix had just arrived. The old-timers recognized his spare figure, his enormous moustache, his gentleness and calm. Bonaparte gave him two divisions, one of which (Boudet’s) was sent to Novi to watch the road to Genoa, with orders to rally to the sound of gunfire wherever it occurred.

At the town hall in Voghera, overlooking the flooding Staffora River, the Guard saw Austrian envoys arrive on the 12th with a flag of truce. They wanted peace?

No, only an exchange of prisoners.

MARENGO

As First Consul, Bonaparte desired peace but the Coalition was not co-operative. He therefore raised a Reserve Army to supplement the Army of the Rhine under Moreau and the Army of Italy under Masséna. The Austrians under Melas defeated Masséna in Italy and besieged him in Genoa. Bonaparte led the Reserve Army in several columns across the Alps. He made a feint at Turin, concentrated his forces at Milan, then moved to cut Melas’ line of supply. Deceived by the French feint from the west, the Austrians allowed themselves to be pushed up against the Alps.

In order to prevent their escape Bonaparte divided his forces. Melas attacked in superior numbers at Marengo on 14 June 1800 and drove the French back in disorder. Bonaparte recalled his detached forces under Desaix who attacked the pursuing Austrians. Finally, a co-ordinated attack by the French sealed the victory, though Desaix was killed.

Melas sued for peace because the French had cut him off from his bases of supply.

The 19th Légère{24} and the 70th Line Infantry passed on ahead. The army was posted on the Scrivia.

During the whole day of the 13th, under a drenching rain punctuated by claps of thunder, the horse grenadiers pivoted in the plain towards the Bormida, behind Bonaparte. No one had given the order to unroll their cloaks! At forty paces from the cavalry the ‘little Corporal’ was seen skirting Castelceriolo, walking the length of the Fontanone, visiting the village of Marengo, climbing to the top of the tower. He inspected the terrain, meditated, looked worried, gave orders...

The troops thought the Austrians had evacuated Alessandra whose cathedral and citadel they could make out in the distance. However, the cavalry pointed out two bridges, one of which had been thrown recently across the river before the town.

At the day’s end the Guard set down their packs before the castle of Baron di Garofoli, a long pile of masonry crowned with a campanile, where the First Consul was lodging. Numb with cold and absolutely soaked, in mud up to their ankles, the grenadiers and chasseurs emptied the forage wagons of bread while Soulès and Bessières examined the terrain. Two leagues{25} and a half away, on the road from Tortona to Alessandra, was the village of Marengo where General Victor was encamped with Gardanne and Chambarlhac. Lannes was on his right. The ground between was dotted with copses.

Some deserters arrived, escorted by cavalry.

The men slept with one eye open in three farm houses in San Giuliano.

On 14 June they were ‘awakened by a reveille of gunfire’, according to Joseph Petit of the horse grenadiers. The Croats were massacring two pickets! Dawn was breaking; they had breakfast; it was the same menu as the night before—bread!

7 a.m. A general Austrian attack, from Lannes’ right wing to Marengo and beyond, began. Some wounded passed. ‘They are attacking in force.’

11 a.m. The First Consul mounted his horse and the escort followed him across the plain where a fusillade extended over a five-mile front. In the smoke and thunder of more than two hundred guns one could no longer distinguish anything. On the left, trumpets were sounding a charge; they belonged to the 2nd and 29th Cavalry of Kellermann. In the center, the Commander in Chief waited calmly under a hail of cannon balls. ‘Keep your chins up!’ shouted a sergeant of the horse grenadiers.

Retreating infantry passed along the road to Tortona; it seemed as if the whole French line were giving way...But no, here came the grenadiers and chasseurs of the Guard, drums beating, singing ‘On va leur percer le flanc to the accompaniment of Guiardel’s bandsmen, as well as the 19th Légère of General Monnier, with Bonaparte leading the lot. Nine hundred bearskin bonnets formed a square between Lannes and Carra Saint-Cyr and stopped the Lobkowitz Dragoons in their tracks. The horse grenadiers, with the light artillery in support, attacked a ‘cloudful of cavalry in battle array’ which was outflanking Murat and the dragoons of Champeaux. This would protect their retreat...

But the infantry of the Guard stood firm. Without artillery, it braced itself to sustain the shock from the Austrian center. Harassed, charged three times by enemy cavalry, fired on at a hundred paces by their infantry, this ‘fortress of granite’ surrounding the flag and the wounded ran out of cartridges. Whereupon Brabant, a grenadier of uncommon strength, took over an abandoned four-pounder and worked it alone for half an hour. Ensign Aune swept his comrades on. Then they retreated lest the enemy should reach their headquarters before them.

Bonaparte moved from one battalion to another, encouraging those in the upper vineyards who were defending the exit