#soult's adcs

[josefavomjaaga]

Soult’s aides, again

Another scene with Soult’s unruly aides. Featuring this time: Petiet (who tells the story in his memoirs), Lameth and Brun. Special guest: general Compans, at the time (January 1807) chief of staff of Soult’s corps in Poland. Also in the mix a chamberlain of Napoleon’s whose name Petiet does not give, we only learn that he is a count: comte de ...

A few days before our departure from Prasnitz, this chamberlain had brought to Marshal Soult a despatch from the Emperor. He awaited the answer in a salon where General Compans and the aide-de-camp Brun de Villeret were playing chess. Lameth and I were chatting with the count of ... who asked me many questions about the new court of Naples and seemed to listen to my answers with a lively curiosity. He asked me how many chamberlains King Joseph had. Thirty, I told him. At these words, Brun de Villeret, checking the king, exclaimed: "Peste! Thirty chamberlains, his room must be well provided for". - Monsieur de ..., irritated to see his functions assimilated to those of a valet de chambre, expressed himself thus in a tone which he sought to make pleasant: "One used to say advantageous like an aide de camp to the prince of Neuchatel, one will now say insolent like an aide de camp to Marshal Soult!" - Lameth, with his frank cheerfulness and his ready wit, then spoke up: "You are getting angry, my dear, you are wrong. Think that if you set the aides-de-camp against you, you will have to deal with a strong party; they will also make their comparisons and they will say: military like a chamberlain!" - This was the coup de grace for the poor Count, who answered nothing and was ready to choke.

As to the identity of Napoleon’s chamberlain, I do not know. If he was already a count by 1807, before Napoleon installed his own, new nobility, he must have come from one of the ancien régime families who had rallied to Napoleon. Which would explain why Lameth, coming from a similar background, calls him “tu”.

This is from the “Almanach impérial” of 1807. Take your pick. (Also, I’m pretty sure that’s not all of Napoleon’s chamberlains. Had he really less than Joseph?)

I’m just happy to see that by this time, the newcomer Brun seems to have been well-accepted already by his colleagues. And that he had already picked up the usual tone in Soult’s staff. (A tone that sometimes may have given Soult migraines, considering that people of course would be talking about such disrespectful behaviour.)

[snowv88]

Brun de Villeret Meets Soult’s Other Aides

Background: Is it 1805 and Brun de Villeret has just been appointed as one of Soult’s aides-de-camp. He arrives at Soult’s headquarters in Boulogne and meets his ‘interesting’ colleagues for the first time.

Brun de Villeret arrives in the port city of Boulogne and briefly looks around.

“Excuse me, monsieur?” A young hussar turns around.

“Do you know where Marshal Soult’s headquarters is?”

“Oh, it should be in that building over there.” The hussar points to a decently built stone house close to the flotilla embanked nearby.

“Wonderful, thank you.” Brun turns his horse and directs the carriage containing his baggage in the direction the hussar pointed towards.

In front of Soult’s headquarters

“….oi!...you!...the devil!...how f**** dare you!...”

Brun raises one eyebrow as he dismounts. He directs his carriage off the street before walking up to the door but before he could knock, it abruptly opens.

“FRANCESCHI! WHERE THE F—Oh?”

A young man around the same age as him was suddenly a few inches from his face. Brun glances over his half-buttoned dolman and loosened cravat and frowns slightly.

“Good evening, monsieur. I’m looking for Monsieur le Maréchal Soult?”

“Oh, you must be the new aide. The marshal—”

“Lameth, was that Franceschi or—oh! Good evening!”

Another young man emerges from the corridor. His uniform was similarly unkept.

“He’s the new aide.” Lameth answered.

“Ah, you must be Monsieur de Villeret. Auguste Petiet, lovely to meet you.” Petiet smiles, “Unfortunately, the Marshal is not in at the moment, but we’ve been told to help you settle in.”

*Crash*

Brun cocked his head towards the sound.

“Ah…” Petiet shifts uncomfortably, “We’re going to war soon, so we decided to have a party. I can assure you; it is not always like this.”

“Petiet~ Lameth~, why are ya just standing at the door? Is Franceschi back yet? We’re out of booze—oh? Who da hell are you?”

This time a young man, perhaps even younger than him, appeared. He was only wearing his shirt and trousers.

Brun wrinkled his nose and took a small step back.

“Saint-Chamans!” Lameth walked up to the inebriated young man and threw an arm around his shoulder, “If I recall, you still own me a round of vingt-et-un, how about it?” He dragged him back into the living room.

Petiet glanced back at Brun whose expression was now stormy, “Err, I’ll call the servants to help with your baggage and I’ll show you where the stables are.”

“Thank you.” Brun’s reply in contrast was devoid of emotion.

“Oh, and…the bedrooms are far from the living room so you can just go straight up and rest if you wish. You won’t hear a thing, I promise.”

Brun, at Petiet’s assuring tone couldn’t help but remark, “I don’t mind joining in the festivities. I just didn’t expect to be greeted by revellers upon taking up my new post”.

Petiet didn’t know if he was being serious as his expression didn’t change, “Um…well, if you are too tired later, you are more than welcome to excuse yourself. I at least, would understand.”

“Humph.”

It was only upon seeing Petiet’s visible awkwardness did Brun finally crack a smile.

[snowv88]

Happy Birthday Marshal Soult Bonus: ADC’s perspective

See this post for the background of this short fiction

*The sound of horse hoofs stops outside Soult’s headquarters*

The courier dismounts and walks into the building. He turns into an anteroom where Soult’s aides-de-camp were taking a break after being on duty for many hours since the early morning.

“Dispatches from the emperor.” Auguste Petiet stands up and receives them.

“And some mail for Monsieur’s Saint-Chamans, Lameth, Petiet, St-Joseph and de Villeret.”

“So basically, all of us.” Alfred de Lameth remarked taking the rest of the mail, nodding to the courier in thanks who leaves as fast as he came. He then distributes the letters, “No mail for the Marshal again, I see.”

“Shh!” Alfred de Saint-Chamans puts a finger to his lips and glanced at hallway to his right, “Best not to talk about it too much.”

Lameth follows his glance and shrugs, “I don’t see the problem. I have friends in the army who haven’t received letters in a week or so.”

“Try three.” Anthoine de St-Joseph chimes in as he takes his mail from Lameth.

“Three?” Lameth looks at St-Joseph in amazement.

“That’s what I’ve heard from Petiet.”

“It’s true.” Petiet confirms, taking the mail for Brun de Villeret, “Hold on to mine for a bit, Lameth, let me deliver the dispatches and mail to them first.”

As Petiet disappears down the corridor, Lameth continues, “A whole month without letters? Are you sure you’re not just hearing things?”

“I’ve only heard it from Petiet so it could well be hearsay.” St-Joseph opens his letter and begins to read.

“Saint-Chamans?”

Saint-Chamans looks down the corridor again before hesitantly commenting, “…Well, the Marshal did ask me once if I had received news from Paris.”

In an instant, Lameth and St-Joseph turned their gazes towards him.

“Truly?” St-Joseph eyes widened.

“The Marshal asked a personal question?” Lameth was a little doubtful.

Saint-Chamans backtracked, “It was only once so I didn’t think much or it…but if Petiet said that the Marshal doesn’t receive letters for three weeks or more, then perhaps it’s true.”

“Well, only de Villeret will actually know if it’s true or not but he’s just as reticent as the Marshal, so we can’t get it out of him even if we bribed him.” St-Joseph went back to reading his letter.

Saint-Chamans gave a wry smile and goes to open his letter while Lameth sighs.

In Soult’s office

*Knock knock*

“Come in.” Soult speaks without looking up from his table.

Petiet enters Soult’s office, “Monsieur le maréchal, the courier has brought some dispatches from the emperor.”

“Mm. You can put them there.” Soult indicates with his head to the left corner of the table.

Petiet puts the dispatches down and turns to Brun who is standing next to the Marshal, “There is a letter for you as well, de Villeret.”

Soult’s ears perked as he looked up momentarily.

“Oh, thank you.” Brun receives the letter but does not open it.

Then an awkward silence between the three men in the room follows, with Soult intermittently glancing at Petiet.

Petiet shifts uncomfortably, “…My apologies, there is no letter for you.”

Only with that confirmation did Soult firmly lower his eyes back to his papers, “Mm, alright. You may go.”

Petiet nodded in greeting before turning around to leave.

Once the door closed, Soult turned to Brun, “Open it.”

Brun opened his letter and skimmed the contents.

Soult looked at him expectedly.

“Nothing special to note, everything is as normal as it can be.” Brun replied straightforwardly.

Soult nodded and his form seemed to relax, his eyes returning to his papers.

The next day

A civilian enters Soult’s headquarters and Brun comes to receive him.

“Good day, Monsieur, I’m looking for Monsieur le maréchal Soult.”

“And you are?”

Before the man could reply, Soult passes by the front door.

“I am he, state your business.”

“Oh! Certainly!” The man fumbles around and takes out multiple letters, at least five or six of them, “Your wife asked me to send these to you. I’m a diplomat, you see. To be honest, she should use the postal service. It would get to you faster.”

Soult receives the letters with a wry smile on his face.

Meanwhile, inside…

The other aides-de-camp still seated at their desks crane their necks towards the front door.

“What’s going on?” Lameth whispered.

“I think the Marshal has received letters.” Petiet who was closest to the door had the clearest view.

“Seriously?!” Lameth was a little too loud which cause Brun to raise an eyebrow towards them.

Saint-Chamans gestured to Lameth, “Shh! They will hear you.”

The front doors shut and the three chattering aides resumed their work, as if they were not gossiping a few moments ago.

Soult passes by their workplace and glances over them once.

“Humph.”

As soon as the door to Soult’s office closed, St-Joseph, who had been silent up until now remarks,

“Looks like we’re not getting a sermon today.”

The other three aides, puzzled, just stared at him.

Well, at least they won’t have to sit through a lecture later.