Mathieu Dumas gets scolded
@snowv88 wrote
I've never heard of that story with Berthier, Dumas and Eugene, would love to hear it 😆
Well, it’s actually not much of a story but more of an image that seems to be taken right out of some slapstick comedy. Plus, I’m sure I had already translated this bit before but I seem unable to find it again. So here’s a fresh translation (thank you, Deepl!):
From the Souvenirs du lieutenant-général Mathieu Dumas, Tome 3:
For context: this takes place in 1809, after the battle of Wagram and the armistice of Znaim. Dumas is charged with monitoring the execution of the armistice with the Austrians.
[…] Despite the line of demarcation being very clearly drawn in the convention, I often had, in concert with my colleague the Austrian commissioner, to rectify some small infringements in the position of the outposts. The most remarkable was the one which Prince Joseph Poniatowsky allowed himself on the frontier of Gallicia: informed that an Austrian column of a few militia battalions, having with them four pieces of cannon, was withdrawing into Hungary, where the whole Austrian army had rallied, he crossed the line of demarcation with a strong detachment, cut off this column, took an advantageous position on Austrian territory, and pretended to keep it, as well as the prisoners and artillery he had captured. I submitted to the major general the very well-founded complaints of the Austrian commissioner, and asked him for his orders before writing to Prince Poniatowsky. The major general answered me that this affair did not concern him, and that the execution of the treaty of armistice was entrusted to me under my responsibility.
Berthier: Oh, no, no. Leave me out of this. You know perfectly well how this will turn out. Go get through this one yourself.
I did not hesitate to give Prince Poniatowsky the order to comply with the treaty, to return the prisoners and the artillery, and to bring his troops within the line of demarcation. The emperor, directly informed by the prince of his incursion and of the advantages which could result from it in the event of the resumption of hostilities, did not approve my decision. He sent for me to give him an account of it in the presence of the prince major general and the viceroy of Italy; he strongly reproached me, as well as the major general, for wanting to protect the interests of the enemy and for courting them at his expense.
"What do you think you are doing, gentlemen, deciding on your own authority on matters of such importance? It is you who command the army, and I am here il ré di cope? Let us see, General Dumas, your register of correspondence."
[The Italian expression is unknown to me.]
I handed it to him, pointing out my last letter to Prince Poniatowsky; he went through it, displayed great irritation, and threw the register on the floor. As I was answering the questions he addressed to me on various points in dispute relating to the execution of the armistice, and more particularly on the place of Zara, in Dalmatia, which he demanded to be handed over immediately, Prince Eugène, who was walking with him, turned around and gestured to me not to answer; but this was impossible. Berthier kept the most obstinate silence.
This is the scene I just love to imagine: Napoleon, giving his sermon while stomping through the room, Eugène always at his heels and signaling in exasperation behind Napoleon’s back to Dumas to shut the F up, man, while Berthier pointedly stares at a corner of the room, zoomed out.
"You believe yourselves to be very important men, messieurs chiefs of staff! I have made you into too great lords, and you caress those of the Austrian court. If an Austrian general officer had taken it upon himself to give such orders, he would have been sent to a fortress. The chiefs of staff must only be instruments; I have only to bring in young Marboeuf, an ordinance officer, who is there in the salon de service, and I will make him my major general."
Which, I guess, shows how much respect Napoleon had for Berthier and his co-workers. Not. He basically states that every dimwit could do Berthiers job. (We’ll see about that during the Hundred Days, Your Imperial Snobbiness...)
After having thus indulged us, he dismissed us, and there was no more talk of this affair. [...] Although I feared that I had displeased him by doing my duty, I was nonetheless very well treated: the emperor named me grand officer of the Legion of Honour, and granted me an endowment of thirteen thousand francs from the property of convents suppressed in the duchy of Parma [...].
But as is the case so often, Napoleon is all bark, no bite 😊.










