Memoirs of the Private Life, Return, and Reign of Napoleon in 1815, Vol. IFleury de Chaboulon, Pierre Alexandre Édouard, baron
History
Memoirs of the Private Life, Return, and Reign of Napoleon in 1815, Vol. I
Fleury de Chaboulon, Pierre Alexandre Édouard, baron
Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 1769-1821 -- Elba and the Hundred Days, 1814-1815
occupied by a subaltern and by six soldiers, who had all served in the
imperial army. They guessed by my looks that I had seen some service,
and, after a short conversation, they asked me to come in and warm
myself by drinking the health of the Emperor Napoleon. I refused at
first, lest I should be entrapped, but they insisted so frankly that I
was compelled to yield. On taking leave I gave them a twenty-franc
piece, in order to drink the health of Napoleon, and mine too; and I
begged them to recommend my guides to take care of me. The commandant
called the guides, and at the same time that he fired a volley of
oaths and curses, he declared that if any accident happened to me, he
would shoot them both on their return. My worthy military friends also
escorted me during a considerable distance, and we separated with
feelings which no one but a soldier can appreciate or understand.
We were to sleep at Pontremoli. Our halt retarded us, and night
overtook us. In order to shorten the distance, my guides led me by a
broad path which wound round the side of the mountain. The descent
was so steep that our horses came down every moment, and we ourselves
were obliged to slide along. I found myself at the foot of the
mountain in a spot which was so dark and dreary, that I fancied my
guides had conducted me thither in order to dispatch me. After having
groped along for some time, my guides stopped. The darkness and the
snow concealed the face of the country to such a degree, that they did
not know where they were, nor which way they ought to turn: their fear
became excessive; they prayed to all the Saints in heaven in their
turn: they shook each other by the hand, and embraced each other like
sailors on the point of being shipwrecked. My _sang froid_ did not
desert me; I took one of the horses which looked like an old roadster;
I dropped the bridle on his neck, and gave him a sound cut with my
whip; he started, I followed, and a few minutes afterwards, to the
inexpressible surprise, and also to the inexpressible satisfaction of
my guides, we found ourselves in the right road, and within half an
hour's ride of Pontremoli, where we arrived towards midnight.
From Pontremoli to Spezzia there was yet a journey of four-and-twenty
hours; and four-and-twenty hours on such roads as I had gone over
are equal to four-and-twenty centuries. But how great was my delight
on quitting Pontremoli, when, instead of the frozen rocks and deserts,
which I had crossed the eve before, I saw nothing as I looked around,
but valleys clothed with verdure, and enamelled with flowers; and
hills surrounded and crowned by evergreens and olive-trees. On the day
before, winter reigned with all his severity; the day after exhibited
spring with all her charms. This pleasing transition beguiled my
impatience; and the agitations which had become habitual to my soul
were succeeded by that happy tranquillity, which is inspired by the
contemplation of the beauties and the gifts of nature.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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