#vienna 1809

[josefavomjaaga]

Horsies!

Not sure if this already has been translated before and if it will be of interest to somebody but I’ve come across a short text about Napoleon and some of his horses, written by chief saddle maker Vincent on Elba. One of the notes mentions Eugène, that’s how I found it. Vincent names different horses used by Napoleon and tells their stories.

Le Roitelet. A large chestnut horse with a sweeping tail, cross between an English horse and a Limousin mare. This horse was given to the Emperor by Prince Eugène de Beauharnais.

Not knowing anything about horses, I’m not quite sure I’ve translated la queue en balai (literally: the tail like a broom, or broomtail) correctly. I understand in English a „broomtail“ can also mean a bad horse, or a horse badly trained. Which also might be kinda fitting because, as we will see below, Roitelet and Napoleon did not have a good start. A „roitelet“ however apparently is a tiny bird similar to a wren, which makes it a cute name for a rather big horse. There also seems to be a legend about that bird in France that might relate to Eugène’s position towards Napoleon, so I wonder if the naming wasn’t on purpose.

One day, at Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna in 1809, he [Roitelet] carried the Emperor into the ranks of the Grenadier Guards, whom he used to review every morning, and was nearly injured. He summoned Monsieur Jardin, the eldest son [i.e., of Antoine Jardin who was at the head of Napoleon’s stables], in charge of the saddle horses during the campaign, and severely reprimanded him for giving him a horse that could injure some of these brave men: ‘I don't want to see that horse again; give me another one, Monsieur,’ whilst he was inquiring, on foot, among the ranks, whether any of them had been wounded. Such was his concern for his old grognards.

Considering what kind of rider Napoleon was, I could imagine poor Roitelet was not the only one to blame for the incident. But he had to suffer the imperial wrath for some time and was never used by Napoleon again. Until...

During the retreat from Russia, as we marched, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, in the midst of the sacred battalion formed by the remnants of the Guard's cavalry, estimated at about four companies, of which the marshals took command as colonels and the colonels as captains, the ground was so frozen that our horses slipped on this mirror that reflected death here and there. The Emperor was given Roitelet, which had been freshly shod. He recognised him, but rode him without saying a word. It is true that Prince Eugène was at his side.

Awww! Napoleon risking life and limbs, and more importantly, life and limbs of his guard, in order to not hurt his stepson’s feelings!

Or maybe he just didn’t want to admit in front of the boy that he could not handle that stupid horse.

We were about an hour or two away from returning to Smolensk. We did not arrive in the city until quite late, and the horse had not made a single misstep. Since then, the Emperor rode it alternately with the others. At the Battle of Lützen, at the height of the melee, the Emperor was riding it; he was passing through the ranks of the line troops, sword in hand, rallying them, when a cannonball passed so close that it nearly carried them both away. The horse's hindquarters buckled; the cannonball passed so close to its hocks that it shaved off the hair, which never grew back. The page who was following him had his horse killed behind him. It was a mare named Ingularade, who came from Germany. A biscayen cut her jugular.

Later, at Arcis-sur-Aube, we were driven back into town by the Prince of Schwarzenberg's troops (cavalry). They were stopped at the gates and fired shells into the town to set it on fire. It was 20 March. The Emperor was riding Roitelet when a shell fell at his feet. It exploded. The horse jumped aside, threw itself to the ground and threw the Emperor ten paces away. He got up, remounted his horse, and neither of them was injured: ‘Come on,’ he said, as he mounted, ‘we've had a good scare!’ He immediately galloped off. So, in Porto Ferrajo, he never failed to come and see if the hair had grown back, and, stroking him, he would say to him, ‘Hey, we both had a narrow escape!’

There’s more stories about other horses in the rest of Vincent’s notes (published in "Nouvelle revue rétrospective, premier semestre 1894, page 217ff). I particularly love the one about a very gentle horse „Intendant“ nicknamed „Coco“ by the guard and „accustomed to being petted by these braves“.

[josefavomjaaga]

Another short description of Davout...

... this time the impressions of the 13-year-old son of an Austrian count, during the occupation of Vienna in 1809.

Translated from "Feldzugserinnerungen aus dem Kriegsjahre 1809" by Friedrich Kircheisen, Hamburg 1909. Vol. 1: "Erlebnisse eines österreichischen Edelmannes aus dem Kriegsjahre 1809 von Graf Eugen von Czernin und Chudeni", page 37

Near Mehlmarkt on 21 May we met a rather fat gentleman with a full face, on horseback, covered in dust. He was accompanied by a large entourage. An adjutant asked us where the Schwarzenberg Palace was. It was Marshal Davout, the Duke of Auerstädt, who thanked us very kindly and had lived in our house in 1805.

[josefavomjaaga]

"I love Soult"

Napoleon about the "Circulaire Ricard", the letter Soult's chief of staff Ricard had sent to the generals under Soult's command in Portugal 1809, telling them to encourage the population to ask Napoleon for a new king:

"All I have to do is send this letter to the High Court, and it will cost either of them their heads. I will not do it. I love Soult..." - and his facial expression softened immensely.

From Brun de Villeret's "Cahiers", snippet of a long note about his interview with Napoleon after the failed Portugal campaign

Awww. What's a little high treason among friends, after all.

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleon's letter to Soult about the "roi Nicolas" affair

Another contemporary document related to Soult's behaviour in Portugal in spring 1809 and his alleged attempt to make himself king. Please see here for the rest of them.

This is Napoleon's first official reaction to everything that had happened in Oporto, several months earlier, and boy is he not happy. He had in the meantime received an abundance of reports, complaints, rumours, some generals had reported to Clarke, Ney had sent Jomini, and Soult had sent Brun de Villeret who, however, was only allowed into Napoleon's presence when the atmosphere was hopelessly poisoned already. (I plan to translate his interview with Napoleon at some point but it's awfully long.)

Translated from the "Correspondance Générale", Volume 9, No. 22204

To Marshal Soult, commander of the army of Portugal Schönbrunn, 26 September 1809 My cousin, I was dissatisfied with your conduct.

In French: I was "mécontent". That’s Napoleon’s phrase of ultimate disapproval. Just ask Eugène, he’s quite familar with that one.

My dissatisfaction is based on this sentence in your chief of staff's circular: "The Duke of Dalmatia would be asked to take over the reins of government, to represent the sovereign and to assume all the powers of supreme authority, with the people promising and swearing to be loyal to him, to support him and to defend him at the expense of their lives and fortunes against all opponents and even against the insurgents of the other provinces until the kingdom is completely subjugated."

That’s a point about which I would love to be able to check Junot’s proclamations and correspondence from the year before in Lisbon, just to compare and see the difference in how he worded them. Junot’s position during the first expedition into Portugal seems rather similar to Soult’s.

It would have been a crime which would have obliged me, no matter how attached I am to you, to consider you guilty of lèse-majesté and guilty of undermining my authority, if you had assumed supreme power on your own initiative.

You better be grateful to that Wellesley guy for kicking you out in time, man!

How could you have forgotten that the power you exercised over the Portuguese derived from the command I entrusted to you and not from the whims of passions and intrigue? How, with the talents you have, could you have thought that I would ever agree to let you exercise any authority without you receiving it from me?

Yes, yes. May I however briefly direct the illustrious attention of Your Imperial Irritatedness to the passage that clearly states Soult in his office would "represent the sovereign"? The sovereign kinda being you, you know?

There is in this a forgetfulness of principles, a misunderstanding of my character and of the feelings and pride of the nation, which I cannot reconcile with the opinion I have of you. It is with these false steps that discontent has grown, and that people have thought that you were working for yourself and not for me and for France. You have undermined the foundation of your authority, because it would be difficult to say whether, after the circular issued by you, a Frenchman who had ceased to obey you would have been guilty.

And like this, Napoleon passes on the buck to Soult. It was Soult’s conduct that had caused the discontent and (almost) revolt in the army, period. - This is, unfortunately, not the whole truth, and Napoleon must have known this. Argenton had not betrayed the army because of Soult but because of Napoleon. And if it is true that there was similar unrest in his own army in Austria at the time (an echo of which may be found in Austrian anecdotes), he may have had good reasons to insist on such a simplified explanation.

During your expedition, I was annoyed to see you go off without having destroyed La Romana, to see you stay so long in Oporto without covering your communications with Zamora, marching on Lisbon or taking any other action. I was sorry to see you allowed yourself to be surprised at Oporto, and that my army, without a fight, fled with almost no artillery and no baggage.

Here, once again, he puts all the blame on Soult, echoing Ney’s accusations that had been brought to Napoleon by Jomini. In this he contradicts completely his own earlier letters – at the time when Soult actually was in Portugal - to Jourdan and Joseph, whom he reproached in no uncertain terms for letting the communication with the army of Portugal be interrupted.

However, after having hesitated for a long time about the course I should take, the attachment I have for you and the memory of the services you rendered me at Austerlitz and in other circumstances have decided me; I forget the past, I hope that it will serve you as a guideline; and I entrust you with the post of major general of my army in Germany [sic].

Yes, His Imperial Majesty is so excited at this point He gets His illustrious geography a little mixed up.

As the King has no experience of war, [...]

Really? Joseph? What makes you think that?

[…] my intention is that, until I arrive, you should report to me on events. I myself want to enter Lisbon as soon as possible.

As much as he may have wanted that (if he did), he of course never would. As a matter of fact, he would never return to the peninsula at all, leaving all the responsibility and the endless discussions with brother dearest to one Jean-de-dieu Soult.

So, that’s the imperial dressing-down that Soult received for the second expedition into Portugal. And in case somebody thinks that some of this sounds rather close to how Saint-Chamans wrote about events, in particular in blaming Soult for the loss of communications – that’s not a coincidence. Saint-Chamans actually knew about this letter. As he writes in his memoirs:

Some time later, Marshal Mortier's corps having left Oropesa, Marshal Soult established himself there; it was there that the aide-de-camp Brun de Villeret, whom on his return from Portugal he had dispatched to the Emperor, joined him with letters from the latter, by which Marshal Soult was appointed major-general of the army of Spain, replacing Marshal Jourdan who had been recalled to France. The Marshal's place was now near Joseph Bonaparte in Madrid; we went there immediately. I did not doubt, given this new mark of confidence by the Emperor, that he had approved of the Marshal's conduct in Portugal; I did, however, find the Marshal's countenance worried, and the deep sighs he sometimes heaved in his moments of reverie gave me much food for thought on this subject. The Marshal had a private secretary, named Voidel, with whom I was closely connected; we had no secrets from each other: I told him of my doubts, and he confided in me that he had read the Emperor's letter to the Marshal, brought back by the aide-de-camp M. Brun; it was devastating, and I even think that Napoleon did not hide cleverly enough that he only forgave the Marshal because he needed him. In this letter, the Emperor harshly reproached Marshal Soult for having sought to be named King of Portugal, and for having thus betrayed the interests of France; for having, by his conduct at Oporto, demoralised his troops, and for thus being the cause of our shameful exit from this town and of the loss of all the army's equipment; he said that his first move had been to bring him before a high imperial court to make him suffer the punishment he had so well deserved; "however, I wanted," he added, "to show clemency towards you, in memory of the good services you rendered me, particularly at the battle of Austerlitz, and to put you in a position, by rendering me new services, to erase your fault, I appointed you major general of my armies in Spain. " He then ordered him to go to Madrid, to King Joseph, to direct the latter in the command of the army, which had devolved upon him; and he ended his letter by saying that as soon as he had finished the war in Germany, he himself would go and plant his eagles on the towers of Lisbon. I then understood where all the Marshal's sighs were coming from; but I had no doubt that he would soon have made his peace with the Emperor, for he was necessary, and was becoming more so every day.

Whereas I mostly enjoy this prime examply of army gossip: Napoleon writes to Soult, Soult’s secretary reads the letter, talks about it, already with some exaggerations and embellishments, to Soult’s aide, who in his memoirs quotes several lines of this letter that are utterly invented, and does anybody really think Saint-Chamans did not immediately gossip about it further? 😁 By the end of the week the army’s stable grooms and washerwomen were probably also informed.

However, this does answer the question if Soult at the time already understood what he later claimed was the reason for Napoleon’s action: He did not. To the contrary: He was very worried, very isolated, and felt that everybody around him mistrusted him.

[josefavomjaaga]

Parallel letters from Vienna, 1809

Quoted from a sales catalogue, some excerpts from a letter Bessières wrote to his wife during the 1809 campaign in Austria:

Vienna, 27 July 1809 We have been dining together for two days now, with the Viceroy [Prince Eugène] and Marshal Duroc... today I had the pleasure of having them in my place... it reminded the three of us of our younger days. It has been six years since we last found ourselves together. We then went for a walk in bourgeois clothes, and we agreed that the pleasures of Vienna were not worth those of Paris... (volume II, n° 130)

And, quoted from »Mémoires et correspondance politique et militaire du Prince Eugène«, Vol. 6, snippets from a letter Eugène wrote to his wife:

Vienna, 28th July 1809 […] I dined yesterday with Duroc and Bessières; it had been five years since we had been able to get this trio together. We then wanted to take a stroll on the ramparts wearing our fracs, but no sooner had we arrived than a large crowd followed us, because we had been recognised; I had already been there the two days before and had enjoyed the utmost incognito; now, all the soldiers who greeted us revealed us, and we went to take our revenge by hearing the Italian opera: Il matrimonio secreto [...].

So, had they last been dining together five or six years ago? I guess we would need to have Duroc’s letter to his wife in order to find out. But I love the enthusiasm in both letters; you can just feel how delighted they are to be together again.

[josefavomjaaga]

“A country not plundered“

Extract from the "Journal du Maréchal de Castellane", during the war against Austria in 1809. The author was originally aide-de-camp to General Mouton, with whom he fell out to the extent that he transferred to Napoleon's service as an orderly officer. I am not sure if I really like the gentleman very much; he seems to me at times very far removed from the lives of ordinary soldiers and, to make up for it, very interested in promotions and gratuities. But he is a great fan of the Viceroy of Italy, so I am willing to forgive a few things. 😊 In this snippet, a couple of days before the battle of Raab, he has taken some orders from imperial headquarters to Eugène into Hungary and now returns with Eugène’s answers to Napoleon.

On the 10th of June I handed over my despatches to the emperor at Schönbrunn. His Majesty questioned me; I said to him: "Sire, I experienced great pleasure in seeing a country which was not plundered (a pleasure of which I had been deprived since my entry into Austria); the chickens and geese were freely running about in the villages, thanks to the good discipline observed in the Viceroy's army." - His Majesty appeared very dissatisfied, turned his back on me and went back to his chambers, apparently because things were not taking this same course before his own eyes.

Well, admittedly, this was not the most diplomatic thing to say. “Ey, the boy and his Italians are at least keeping order. How about you do that, too, huh?” - Though I’m not sure if this really was the only reason for Napoleon’s reaction at seeing his stepson, of all people, held up as an example to him at a moment when he most likely was already preparing to cut his ties with the Beauharnais clan.

[josefavomjaaga]

Auguste of Bavaria, vice-queen of Italy, and her two daughters, usually referred to as “mes petits choux” or “mes deux anges” by their father, Eugénie (7 months, sitting on Mama’s arm) and Joséphine (3, clearly not interested in the geography of Hungary that her mother is trying to teach her). Painting by Andrea Appiani

***

During the Austrian campaign of 1809, Eugène for the first time was separated from wife and children for a longer period of time. Perfect husband that he was (in Auguste’s eyes at least), he wrote to her at every occasion. Some excerpts:

July 18:

Good morning, my dear Auguste. My first thought, as every day, is for you and my beautiful children. [...] I know that the emperor was kind enough to announce the armistice to you through one of his squires; I only learned of it thirty-six hours later, and during this time I was fighting on the March, so that the last cannon shots were for me.

July 19:

[…] Last night, Tuesday, I was thinking about our little games and regretting them very much. I hear that in Eisenstadt I will be very well off; they say there is a superb park with plenty of game; I will hunt every morning, work afterwards and think of my little family all day.

July 22:

Here I am back from my journey, my dear Auguste, and I hasten to give you my news, which is very good. [...] I saw Louis [Ludwig, Auguste's brother] this morning; he has improved a great deal since I last saw him; we lunched together at the Emperor's; I hope we shall see each other often during the few days I shall be here; you can well imagine who we talked about. You have been the constant subject of our talks, as you are always the subject of my thoughts. The news of Eugenie's two teeth has given me great pleasure, and everything leads us to believe that she will also be able to get all her teeth. [...] Farewell, my dearest Auguste, I hope that we will no longer be absent for as long as we have been. I kiss you and my two little sweeties and love you with all my heart. Your faithful husband and friend.

Of course, whenever a writer all of a sudden calls himself “your faithful husband”, I wonder why he feels the need to do that ... but that’s just me.

July 26

I am sending you Bataille with this letter, my good and dearest Auguste. Your name day is coming up, and I hope it will arrive just in time. I am sending you a trifle from Vienna, which I thought was pretty; I wish it to seem so to you. I will not make any new declarations of tenderness and attachment to you for the 3rd of August: these feelings are the same, and will be for all days and all times. I am sending toys to my little angels; I hope that Joséphine will pay you her little compliment and I am sorry I am not there to teach it to her. I see Louis every day; I am even having dinner with him today; this morning I gave him your letter and urged him to answer you by Bataille; he promised me to do so.

July 28

Louis leaves today to visit our last battlefields; he will also go to Austerlitz and Raab. I dined yesterday with Duroc and Bessières; it had been five years since we had been able to reunite this trio. We then wanted to walk in frock-coats on the rampart, but as soon as we arrived a great crowd followed us, because we were recognised; I had already been there the two days before and I had enjoyed the greatest incognito, […]

I guess having such a nondescript face does have its advantages. But as soon as you’re out with Bessières and his hairdo from the last century, no way people won’t recognize you.

August 2

[…] They say that the plenipotentiaries will meet tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, and we don't know any more than that, but what I do know is that I love you with all my heart.

August 3

Today, August 3rd, is your name day, my dearest Auguste, and I think with regret that I am not with you to talk to you about my feelings. How happy everything near you is at this moment! [...] I slept last night at Schœnbrunn, because the theatre play finished late, and this morning I went hunting with the Prince of Neufchatel. We returned for the parade and to lunch with the Emperor. I returned a few hours ago from Schœnbrunn, and I bathed, as it is very hot. Aubert has just told me that your foot is still hurting; why didn't you tell me about it? If you need Aubert, please let me know, I will send him to you immediately. Farewell, my dear Auguste, I like to think that in the midst of the pleasures of your name day, my regrets will have been thought of a little.

All quoted from A. DuCasse, “Memoires et correspondance ... du Prince Eugène”, Volume 6

***

As for the painting above, Auguste sent it to Eugène on his 28th birthday (September 3) which other than that apparently had gone pretty much unnoticed, even by himself. He writes to her the other day:

September 4

I thank you a thousand times, my dearest Auguste, I have seen Annoni yesterday. I came back here at eight o'clock in the evening tired from the heat of the day and the hours I had been out, not thinking at all that I was already twenty-eight, and as soon as I got down to my lodgings, Annoni was announced to me. You can't imagine how happy I was when he gave me your letter and your charming present; the idea is charming, the portraits are very similar, especially the one of Joséphine; in short, it's all admirable. I shall always carry this pretty picture with me everywhere, it will remind me, each time I look at it, of the happiness I enjoy with my little family. I am going to mount my horse shortly, the Emperor has asked me to pass some more reviews. I am sending Annoni to Vienna, where I shall be late this evening, and I shall keep him for a few days so that I can talk about you at my leisure.

Adieu, my good friend, I have no time to express to you how deeply touched I am by your attention, and how happy you make me. Farewell, my dear Auguste, you deserve and possess all the tenderness of your faithful husband and friend.

[josefavomjaaga]

“Opinion was going astray”

From Hortense’s memoirs, Volume 2, events that led up to Napoleon’s separation from Josephine.

The Emperor's severe reprimand having driven me out of Baden, […]

Just for explanation: Hortense had taken her two sons with her when visiting her cousin Stéphanie, which caused Napoleon to actually write to Hortense for the first time in quite a while, telling her to immediately send »my nephews« (the only living Bonaparte heirs!) back to France.

Like, NOW! Got it?

[…] I went to the waters of Plombières with my children. [At the beginning of June 1809; she’ll stay four months.] I had accompanied my mother there before my marriage. It seemed to me that I was going to find there that health, that carefree gaiety of my youth which had fled so far from me. Nature had remained the same; only I had changed and, although the waters did me good, I could not recover those sweet and first impressions which after great misfortune the heart is no longer prepared to receive.

Cry me a river. This time, however, that much is true, Hortense and Josephine do find themselves in a completely different situation than during the previous campaigns: in 1805, Josephine was following Napoleon at some distance, from court to court. In 1806/7, she and Hortense were at least waiting in Mainz, holding court there and being celebrated for the army's successes. In 1808, Josephine was at least still present when the Spanish royal family was deposed in Bayonne.

Now both she and her daughter are far from Paris, away from the action and obviously uninvolved.

My mother came to join me at Plombières. We heard the news of the victorious battles of Raab and Wagram [June 14 and July 6, 1809, respectively]. The first, won by my brother's corps, was announced to us by M. de La Bédoyère, who had become aide-de-camp to Marshal Lannes and whom Eugène had taken near him on the Marshal's death.

If I recall correctly, Hortense had already mentioned Labédoyère in Volume 1 of her memoirs as one of her many admirers, and Napoleon would later claim that in 1815 it had been Hortense who had made Labédoyère join Napoleon on the latter’s return from Elba.

My brother's successes had led to much talk in the army. Eugène was singled out as the only suitable successor to the Emperor.

Poor Napoleon – falling victime to his own propaganda. He had praised the Italian army to the skies after its arrival in Austria, for the simple reason that he urgently needed successes after Aspern and Essling. Who could have guessed anyone would take the bulletins so seriously!

During the armistice, a young student from the universities of Germany was arrested at a parade just as he was about to assassinate the Emperor [she refers to Staps, obviously]. The generals and officers, horrified by such an attempt and the result it might have had, immediately turned their attention to the absence of a direct heir to the empire. They asked themselves what choice they could have made if the crime had been accomplished and they unanimously designated the Viceroy. The opinion of France was in agreement with that of the army.

Just for the record: Normally, I would not even bother with this obvious attempt by Hortense to glorify her brother. But. There are actually similar hints in Austrian sources, and while they are just as dubious, they seem to exist independantly from Hortense’s memoirs: Hormayr, Austrian-Tyrolean propagandist and alternatingly at odds with all sides, in a book from 1841 (»Lebensbilder aus dem Befreiungskriege«) claims that there existed several secret societies in the army opposing Napoleon’s regime – this is probably a reference to the obscure »Philadelphes« -, and in the context of an apocryphe anecdote (Napoleon falling into sleep or rather a coma of 20 or even 36 hours after the battle of Essling) he similarly mentions how Eugène was tacitly designated as a successor by the army.

There is also a translation by Kircheisen »Aus den Papieren eines Apothekers der französischen Armee«, apparently by Cadet de Gassicourt, pharmacist at the army, who also stresses the (exaggerated) reputation that Eugène had acquired in the army at this time. Hortense in her memoirs continues:

Word of this reached the Emperor and displeased him. It revived all his ideas of divorce and, later, gave rise to this sentence which he said to me one day while speaking to me about it: »It is an indispensable thing; opinion was going astray«. I also believe that Fouché, as a skilful man who wanted to achieve his goal and who feared my brother, will not have let slip the opportunity to make known to the Emperor a dominant desire in France and perhaps he will have designated my mother and me as working to strengthen it.

And maybe, just maybe, Fouché would have been correct in thinking so… It would indeed not be without irony if Eugène had contributed to Napoleon's disowning of Eugène's mother precisely because he had for once accomplished something even in the eyes of the army and had presented himself as a potential successor - an idea which mum and sis probably kept talking about to anyone they could get a hold of.

Napoleon already being suspicious of Eugène’s reputation might also explain Eugène’s almost panicked reaction during the affair of Aime Guillon’s book.

On the other hand, a young Polish countess whom the Emperor had known in Poland came to Vienna during the armistice [la Waleswka, obviously]. My mother knew that she was hidden away in Schoenbrunn without anyone seeing her.

Actually, she lived in a house in the neighborhood that could be reached through the park. With so many people, including the prince of Bavaria and Eugène, at some point, living in Schönbrunn, Napoleon probably didn’t want to be all that obvious.

This unfaithfulness of a husband she still loved dearly made her despair. The young woman became pregnant. The Emperor, although suspicious, could not doubt that he was the father of this child and, from then on, the hope of having a successor, if he contracted a new union, acquired certainty in his eyes.