#ida saint-elme
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Ida meets Ney in Russia
I dimly remember that somebody (Cadmus?) mentioned they wanted to read more from Ida. So here’s a brief snippet of Ida – for once – getting in trouble with her hero, of Ney scolding her and … being jealous of Eugène?
The meeting takes place somewhen in late 1812 or early 1813, as much as it’s possible to tell from Ida’s chronological rollercoaster ride. In any case, after or at the end of the Russian retreat. Because of course Ida had joined the Russian campaign as well.
And not only she. If any tumblerinas here plan on learning how to time travel and want to go back to see the Grande Armée march towards Moscow, they don’t need to worry about incognitos. Most likely they would barely be noticed, as apparently there were wagonloads of groupies following their heroes around.
Okay: four. But that’s only those ladies Ida travelled with. Plus, two of them died on the way back.
Ida was particularly fond of a Polish-Lithuanian girl named Nidia, as madly in love with general Montbrun as Ida was in love with Ney. Not that either of the two got to see their idol much during the march. As a matter of fact, the first thing Nidia learned before entering Moscow was that Montbrun had been killed at the battle of Borodino. Other than that, Ida claims to have had a bad feeling about this city from the start:
As we entered Moscow, occupied at last by our troops, this immense city seemed to us like a vast tomb; its empty streets, deserted buildings and solemnity of destruction were heartbreaking. Despite the pomp of victory, I felt struck by I don't know what new kind of melancholy when I saw it; the flags seemed to me gloomy and almost surrounded by funeral crêpes and black forebodings. We were staying in Rue Saint-Pétersbourg, near the Miomonoff palace, which was soon occupied by Prince Eugène. The sight of this young hero and the cheers of the soldiers, who adored him, gave us back all the illusions of victory.
Okay, so I just added this because it’s so rare to see Eugène receive some praise. (I should also mention that the adored young hero was growing bald at an alarming rate and that his bad teeth were killing him.)
As a matter of fact, Ida claims that Nidia was especially interested in Eugène because he was rumoured to maybe become king of Poland (yes, another candidate). These rumours did really exist, Eugène mentions them in a letter to his wife before the campaign started. (And he also makes it pretty clear that these are just rumours and that he has not the slightest ambition to stay in this country. He may have used different vocabulary than Lannes but he didn’t like the region any better.)
The following night, Ida and Nidia wake up to a burning Moscow and are saved by soldiers of 4th corps. On the retreat, they seem to have followed headquarters as closely as possible, which was their safest bet to stay alive (because where the emperor is, there’s food and firewood and a resemblance of order) but still witness horrible tragedies. After the crossing of the Berezina, they apparently followed the remnants of Eugène’s 4th corps to Marienwerder, before Nidia says goodbye and goes back to defending Poland.
But before, on the way, at Valutina (?), Ida finally sees Ney again
At this point, after the retreat, Ida at least starts to question her decision to follow the Grande Armée around. Or something like that.
I have just recounted my fatigue, my difficulties and my perils in a war beyond human endurance, because of the new aspects it seemed to give to destruction and death. A powerful feeling made me undertake everything and endure everything. Why was I going to face the hazards of a campaign? Why was I going to expose the weakness of a woman to the rigours of a climate of iron? In order to obtain yet another glance from the one whose smile had always paid me for my military errands. This look was always like a world offered to my hopes; the dream alone of this reward had made possible all the impossibilities of time, distance, sex and fortune. My life was thus burnt for a few hours, still uncertain. I was giving up everything for a moment in space. Alas! this time, how I was going to regret this moment that had cost me so much to conquer! I had just gambled my existence for a flash of happiness, and this flash, the quickest of my life, became the cruelest.
I had to spend three fatal hours in a miserable shack on the outskirts of Volutina. My dress was so horrible that it was a real disguise. In a person dressed like that, one could hardly suspect a woman. Ney, however, only had to look my way to recognise me. To have been seen was enough to have been discovered. I was about to rush to the front of this first happiness; I was about to testify to the soul of my life how proud I was of this divination of friendship, of this perspicacity of memory, when words of an energy which was far from that of the feeling of which I was possessed, intimated to me the order of the most positive dismissal:
"What are you doing here? What do you want? Go away quickly."
With this address and a few short, curt rebukes about my reckless rage and my fury at following him everywhere, I only had the strength to reply: "It is a rage, indeed, but it is not at least the rage of pleasure or vanity," pointing to my coarse clothes and my face burnt by the sun and faded by fatigue. He took no notice of either the harangue or the costume. He was off and running. His displeasure at seeing me there was so great; he let it out so vividly that I thought he was going to push me back to the opposite bank of the Dniéper in his anger. Stunned by the reception, struck by lightning, I remained motionless for more than an hour, staring at him, thinking I saw him; he had disappeared without paying any more attention to me or worrying about me.
From which we can deduct that Ney was not a reader of Jane Austen novels. Otherwise he would have known that whenever you have behaved in a way that made a woman fall in love with you that’s f-ing your fault, monsieur!
In 1813, when I recalled to Marshal Ney this scene of such violent fury, followed by such cruel silence and abandonment, he told me that he had been so mortally frightened by the extravagance which had pushed me into the midst of so many perils and the licentiousness of an army, that he had even been tempted to beat me. Truth requires me to admit that the temptation had been so strong that he had, I believe, yielded to it a little; it was without his knowing it, for the great passions know neither all they want nor all they do. Anger is therefore still love, since it is as blind as fury.
Girl, get help. Seriously.
When we crossed the Dniéper at Serokodia, I could have had another word with him. A new laurel had just hidden his wrongs and healed my wound. I could have, I wanted to say to him: You have just added to your immortal glory here; you alone have just saved Frenchmen lost in deserts of ice; I would have liked to express to him what all parties repeat today, what posterity will proclaim on the ashes of the brave... But I stuck to the joy of hearing the distant cheers. There was then a little fear in my delirium for him, and I almost have the idea that I idolised him even more by fearing him in that way…
Did I mention the thing about getting help?
Yes, even the reproach was appreciated by my heart, and still seemed to me a tender interest. I found I don't know what pleasure in hearing myself scolded later for my association with Nidia, my marches and counter-marches with the Viceroy's troops. No matter how many times I told the Marshal that Eugène's protection had been focused exclusively on the young Lithuanian girl, and that I had slipped unnoticed into this benevolence, he took it into his head to believe nothing of these sincere protestations. To make him reconsider such a strongly conceived idea would have meant exposing myself to a repeat of the Dniéper order and military correction. I had no intention of trying the same pleasure twice. Finally, he saw the evidence of my attachment, and he found the generosity to prove this belated but strong conviction to me [...]
By calling her his brother-in-arms, by the way. And this, I believe, really meant a lot to Ida.
#napoleon's marshals#michel ney#ida saint-elme#memoirs#napoleon's family#eugene de beauharnais#russian retreat#russian campaign#russia 1812#also#we have a phone call by a certain vice-queen interested in the exact definition of the word “protection” in this particular context
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With two days left to submit nominees, here is where the list stands:
France:
Jean Lannes
Josephine de Beauharnais
Thérésa Tallien
Jean-Andoche Junot
Joseph Fouché
Charles Maurice de Talleyrand
Joachim Murat
Michel Ney
Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte (Charles XIV of Sweden)
Louis-Francois Lejeune
Pierre Jacques Étienne Cambrinne
Napoleon I
Marshal Louis-Gabriel Suchet
Jacques de Trobriand
Jean de dieu soult.
François-Étienne-Christophe Kellermann
Louis Davout
Pauline Bonaparte, Duchess of Guastalla
Eugène de Beauharnais
Jean-Baptiste Bessières
Antoine-Jean Gros
Jérôme Bonaparte
Andrea Masséna
Antoine Charles Louis de Lasalle
Germaine de Staël
Thomas-Alexandre Dumas
René de Traviere (The Purple Mask)
Claude Victor Perrin
Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr
François Joseph Lefebvre
Major Andre Cotard (Hornblower Series)
Edouard Mortier
Hippolyte Charles
Nicolas Charles Oudinot
Emmanuel de Grouchy
Pierre-Charles Villeneuve
Géraud Duroc
Georges Pontmercy (Les Mis)
Auguste Frédéric Louis Viesse de Marmont
Juliette Récamier
Bon-Adrien Jeannot de Moncey
Louis-Alexandre Berthier
Étienne Jacques-Joseph-Alexandre Macdonald
Jean-Mathieu-Philibert Sérurier
Catherine Dominique de Pérignon
England:
Richard Sharpe (The Sharpe Series)
Tom Pullings (Master and Commander)
Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington
Jonathan Strange (Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell)
Captain Jack Aubrey (Aubrey/Maturin books)
Horatio Hornblower (the Hornblower Books)
William Laurence (The Temeraire Series)
Henry Paget, 1st Marquess of Anglesey
Beau Brummell
Emma, Lady Hamilton
Benjamin Bathurst
Horatio Nelson
Admiral Edward Pellew
Sir Philip Bowes Vere Broke
Sidney Smith
Percy Smythe, 6th Viscount Strangford
George IV
Capt. Anthony Trumbull (The Pride and the Passion)
Barbara Childe (An Infamous Army)
Doctor Maturin (Aubrey/Maturin books)
Scotland:
Thomas Cochrane
Colquhoun Grant
Austria:
Klemens von Metternich
Friedrich Bianchi, Duke of Casalanza
Franz I/II
Archduke Karl
Marie Louise
Franz Grillparzer
Wilhelmine von Biron
Poland:
Wincenty Krasiński
Józef Antoni Poniatowski
Józef Zajączek
Maria Walewska
Władysław Franciszek Jabłonowski
Adam Jerzy Czartoryski
Antoni Amilkar Kosiński
Zofia Czartoryska-Zamoyska
Stanislaw Kurcyusz
Russia:
Alexander I Pavlovich
Alexander Andreevich Durov
Prince Andrei (War and Peace)
Pyotr Bagration
Mikhail Miloradovich
Levin August von Bennigsen
Pavel Stroganov
Empress Elizabeth Alexeievna
Karl Wilhelm von Toll
Dmitri Kuruta
Alexander Alexeevich Tuchkov
Barclay de Tolly
Fyodor Grigorevich Gogel
Ekaterina Pavlovna Bagration
Prussia:
Louise von Mecklenburg-Strelitz
Gebard von Blücher
Carl von Clausewitz
Frederick William III
Gerhard von Scharnhorst
Louis Ferdinand of Prussia
Friederike of Mecklenburg-Strelitz
Alexander von Humboldt
Dorothea von Biron
The Netherlands:
Ida St Elme
Wiliam, Prince of Orange
The Papal States:
Pius VII
Portugal:
João Severiano Maciel da Costa
Spain:
Juan Martín Díez
José de Palafox
Inês Bilbatua (Goya's Ghosts)
Haiti:
Alexandre Pétion
Sardinia:
Vittorio Emanuele I
Denmark:
Frederik VI
Sweden:
Gustav IV Adolph
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Any comment on Madame Ida Saint-Elme? Her memoirs do feature you quite a bit.
I loved her.
I really did. I cared. I didn’t want her to get hurt. She was my first love.
And then she published the books and half of it is extremely exaggerated so it attracts more readers. I’m honestly pissed and I do not wish to continue our relationship.
I feel like she used me when I couldn’t even tell her anything because back then the connection between this realm and your world was nonexistent. In fact - If someone had managed it back then, they would have ended up like a ghost story.
I hope she’s happy now. Because I guess I make a good story,
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...I have not spent a day without loving you; I have not spent a night without clasping you in my arms; I have not drunk a cup of tea without cursing the glory and ambition which keep me from the heart of my very being. In the midst of my activities, whether at the head of my troops or inspecting the camps, my adorable Josephine stands alone in my heart, she occupies my mind and fills my thoughts. If I depart from you with the speed of the rushing Rhone, it is only so that I may see you again more quickly. If I get up in the middle of the night to work, it is because this may hasten by some days the arrival of my sweet love...
--
This letter, the fifth which Bonaparte sent to his wife, was published for the first time in 1827 in the second volume of the Mémoires of a contemporary, Ida Saint-Elme.
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Announcement
So it’s lockdown 3 over here in the UK and I’ve already finished my exams...
Hence, I am going to do the mop Po st horrible task for a lockdown 3 special: reviewing the sequels of “The General’s Mistress”.
Last time I actually had great fun with reviewing and it seemed everyone like it, so why not doing an another one (even it means another episode of Elisabeth getting slightly mad)? Well, even though I am certainly not a fan of Ida’s memoirs, I am very curious to see how people can make a story adaptation of it, considering its value as a fictional/storytelling account. Thus, I am going to read the rest of the stories of this before lockdown ends, and hopefully I would be fine.
Fingers crossed, I hope I would not need to invoke the spirit of Ney to calm me down this time😂😂😂
p.s. I am reading the first chapter of “The Emperor’s Agent” (first sequel to “The General’s Mistress”) and it seems like Fouché is asking the MC to be an agent to the emperor 👀 (and Moreau is in trouble of course). I am honestly looking forward to séance scenes as well because it really reminded me of the old days 😂😂😂😂
Ah yes, the good ol’ days when I am surrounded by dead French marshals. It’s a long story but now it’s... worse.
#literally did some self-learning work on French and now a step closer to actually read a Napoleonic text in French#oh wait he just told me that he wants to join in as well OwO#historical fanfiction#i am so sorry marshal ney please don’t fuck my life up#要大家看我原地死亡，真的不好意思😅#on another day I talked to @Ellestcapey and @Ami46 about Ida and we unequivocally agreed that Ida Saint-Elme is a bitch
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𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
here’s a list of short names to coincide with my long names list :)
[ disclaimer: my sincere apologies if there are any spelling/meaning/origin mistakes in any of my name lists, i am by no means a professional in this area, i just like creating lists to help aid storytellers. i do try my best to find each name’s corresponding origin/meaning/spelling but i am a human who is prone to make the odd mistake. p.s, i take requests! ]
Female
Ada - German - First born female
Ali - Arabic - High, elevated, champion
Amy - French/Latin - Beloved
Anne - Latin/Hebrew - Favour, grace
Aria - Hebrew/Italian - Air, song, melody
Aura - Latin/Greek - Wind
Ava - Latin - Bird-like
Aya - German/Japanese/Hebrew - Sword, colourful, beautiful, bird
Ayn - Hebrew/Finnish/Russian - God has favoured me, grace, eye
Bay - English/French - Auburn-haired
Bea - Latin - Bringer of happiness
Beau - French - Beautiful, handsome
Belle - French - Beautiful
Bia - Latin/Italian - White, fair
Bindi - Noongar - Butterfly
Blair - Scottish - Plain, meadow, field
Blanche - French - White
Blythe - English - Joyous, kind, cheerful
Bree - Irish - Exalted one, strength
Briar - English - Bush of wild roses
Brook - English - Small stream
Bryn - Welsh - Hill
Buffy - Hebrew - Diminutive of Elizabeth, my god is an oath
Cara - Latin - Dear friend
Chloe - Greek - Blooming, fertility
Cia - Greek/Hebrew - Light,
Clair - French - Bright, clear
Coco - Portuguese/Spanish - Diminutive of Socorro, help, relief
Cora - Greek - Maiden, girl, daughter
Cove - English - Small coastal inlet
Dara - Hebrew/Irish - Pearl of wisdom, gift, compassion
Dawn - English - Sunrise
Doe - English - Female deer
Dot - Greek - Diminutive of Dorothy, gift of god
Dove - English - A bird
Eden - Hebrew - Delight
Edie - English - Prosperous in war
Ella - Greek/Norman/Hebrew/German/Spanish - Beautiful, fairy maiden, goddess
Elle - French - She
Elm - English - Elm tree
Elsa - Scandinavian - Joyful, Noble, god is my oath
Emi - Japanese - Blessed, favour, beautiful
Emma - Germanic - Whole, universal
Erin - Irish - Peace, from the island to the west
Esmé - French/Persian - Esteemed, beloved, emerald
Etta - Latin - Of noble birth
Eva - Hebrew - Giver of life
Eve - Hebrew - Giver of life
Faith - Latin - Confidence, trust, belief
Faye - French - Fairy
Fern - English - Green shade-loving plant
Fiona - Gaelic/Scottish - White, fair
Fleur - French - Flower
Flo - Latin - Flowering, flourishing
Gia - Italian - God’s gracious gift
Grace - Latin - Gracious
Greta - Greek/German/Persian - Pearl
Gwen - Welsh - White, holy
Hope - English - Desire of fulfillment
Ida - Scandinavian - Labour, work
Isla - Scottish/Gaelic/Spanish - Island
Ivy - English - Fidelity
Jade - Spanish - Stone of the colic, precious gemstone
Jae - Korean - Ability, talent
Jane - English - God is gracious
Jessie - Hebrew - He sees
Jill - Latin/English - Child of the God’s, youthful
Joan - Hebrew - God is gracious
Joy - English - Happiness, joyful
June - Latin - Born in June
Juno - Latin - Queen of heaven
Kai - Hawaiian/Japanese - Sea, ocean, shell, restoration, recovery
Kat - English/Greek - Clean, pure
Kate - English/Latin/Greek - Clean, pure
Kim - English/Korean/Chinese/Vietnamese - Gift of God, gold
Kira - Russian/Japanese/Persian/Greek - Mistress, ruler, leader of the people, beloved, light
Kyla - Hebrew/English/Scottish - Narrow channel
Lacy - English/Latin/French - Lace, cheerful, unbridled
Lake - English - Body of water
Lana - Slavic/Gaelic - Little rock, light
Lark - English - Songbird
Lea - Hebrew/English - Delicate, weary, meadow
Leda - Greek - Woman
Leigh - English - Delicate, meadow
Lia - Greek - Bearer of good news
Lily - English/Latin/Greek - Pure, passion, flower
Lisa - Hebrew - God’s promise
Liv - Norse - Shelter, protection, life
Lois - Greek - Superior
Lucy - English/Latin - Light
Lula - German/English - Famous warrior
Luna - Italian/Spanish/Latin - Moon
Lux - Latin - Light
Luz - Portuguese/Spanish - Light
Lyla - Arabic - Night
Mae - French/Latin - Month of May
Maeve - Irish/Gaelic - Intoxicating
Mara - Hebrew - Bitter, strength
Mary - Aramaic/Latin/Hebrew/Greek - Bitter, beloved, rebellious, marine, drop of the sea
Maude - German/French/Hebrew - Powerful battler
May - English - Month of May
Meg - Greek - Pearl
Mia - Scandinavian - Of the sea, bitter
Mila - Slavic - Gracious, dear
Mina - German - Love
Mira - Latin/Slavic - Wonder, wonderful, peace
Moon - English - The moon
Mya - Greek/Arabic/German/Persian - Sea of bitterness
Nelly - Greek - Light
Nia - Gaelic/Swahili - Lustrous, goal, purpose, resolve, brilliance
Nina - Spanish/Hebrew/Russian/Babylonian - Enclosure of fish, little girl
Noa - Hebrew - Motion
Nora - Irish/Latin/Arabic - Honour, light
Nova - Latin - New
Nya - Swahili/Gaelic - Purpose
Opal - Sanskrit - Gem
Ora - Latin - Pray
Paige - Latin/Greek - Assistant
Paris - Latin/Greek - Pouch, wallet
Pearl - Latin/English - Smooth round bead formed by a mollusk
Pia - Latin - Pious, reverent
Pixie - Celtic/Swedish/Cornish - Fairy
Quinn - Irish/Gaelic - Counsel
Rae - Hebrew - Ewe, female sheep
Rain - English - Rain
Reese - Welsh - Ardent, fiery
Remi - French - Oarsman
Ren - Japanese - Water lily, lotus
Rita - Spanish - Pearl
Rose - Latin - Flower
Ruby - Latin - Red gemstone
Rue - English/Greek - Regret, herb
Ruth - Hebrew - Friend
Sadie - Hebrew - Princess
Sage - Latin - Wise
Shae - Gaelic/Irish - Admirable, full of majesty
Sky - Norse - Cloud, scholar
Sloan - Irish/Gaelic - Warrior
Sue - Hebrew - Lily
Suzy - Hebrew - Lily
Tara - Sanskrit - Star
Tate - English/Norse - Cheerful
Taya - Japanese - Young
Tess - English/Greek - To harvest, to reap
Teva - Hebrew - Nature
Thea - Greek - Goddess
Tia - Spanish - Aunt
Uma - Hebrew/Sanskrit - Nation
Una - Irish - The personification of truth, beauty and unity
Velma - German - Determined protector
Vera - Slavic - Faith
Wren - English - Small bird
Zara - Arabic - Radiance
Zelda - German - Grey fighting maid
Zia - Arabic - Light
Zoe - Greek - Life
Zuri - Swahili - Beautiful
Male
Ace - Latin - One; unity
Amir - Arabic/Persian/Hebrew - Prince, chief, immortal
Araz - Arabic - Provisions, commodities
Arik - Norse - Eternal ruler
Arlo - English - Fortified hill
Arris - Greek -Best
Asa - Hebrew/Japanese - Healer, physician, born in the morning
Ash - English - Ash tree
Atlas - Greek - To carry
Axel - Hebrew - Father is peace
Bane - Slavic - Glorious defender
Bear - French/German - As strong and brave as a Bear
Beau - French - Beautiful
Beck - Norse - Small stream
Blaire - Scottish/Gaelic - Plain, field
Blake - English - Fair-haired, dark
Bodhi - Sanskrit - Awakening, enlightenment
Bolt - English - Bar, arrow
Bran - Scottish/Irish/Gaelic - Bramble, thicket of wild gorse
Brock - English/Celtic - Badger-like
Brody - Scottish - Broad eye, broad island
Bron - English - Son of a dark man
Buck - English - Male deer
Cade - English - Round, barrel
Cain - Hebrew - Something produced, spear
Cash - English/Latin - Hollow
Chase - English/French - To catch, to seize, hunter, huntsman
Clark - English - Scribe, secretary
Cody - English - Helpful, pillow
Cole - English - Swarthy, coal-black, charcoal
Colt - English - Young horse
Crew - Latin - Chariot
Dane - English - From Denmark
Dax - French - Leader
Dean - English - Valley
Drake - English - Dragon, snake
Duke - English - Leader, son of Marmaduke
Eden - Hebrew - Place of pleasure, delight
Eli - Hebrew - Ascent
Evan - Welsh - Youth, young warrior
Ezra - Hebrew - Help, helper
Felix - Latin - Happy, lucky
Fig - English - Fruit
Finn - Norse/Irish - Finn, Sámi, white, fair
Fox - English - Cunning, sly
Gage - French - One who is defiant
Gale - English/Greek - Jovial, tranquil
Grant - English/Gaelic - Tall, big
Grey - English - Grey-haired
Guy - French - Guide, leader
Heath - English - Someone who lives by a moor or heath
Hugh - English/French/Germanic - Mind, spirit
Ian - Scottish - The Lord is gracious
Ike -Hebrew - Laughter
Iker - Basque - Visitation
Jack - English - God is gracious, supplanter
Jax - English - God is gracious
Jay - Latin - Bird in the crow family
Jeb - Hebrew - Beloved friend
Jed - Hebrew - Beloved of God
Jet -English - Black, airplane
Jody - English/Hebrew - Jehovah increases
Jon - Hebrew - God is gracious
Joss - German - One of the Goths
Jovi - Latin - Father of the sky
Judd - English - To flow down
Jude - Greek - Praised
Kade - Scottish - From the wetlands
Kai - Hawaiian/Japanese - Sea, ocean, shell, restoration, recovery
Kiam - Unknown - Unknown
King - English - Monarch
Kit - Greek - Bearing Christ
Knox - Scottish/English - Hillock, round-topped hill
Koa - Hawaiian - Warrior, brave one
Kye - Welsh/Scandinavian/Gaelic/Greek - Keeper of the keys, earth, narrow, straight
Kylo - Latin - Sky
Lane - English - Small roadway or path
Lars - Latin/Scandinavian - From Laurentum, crowned with laurel
Leif - Scandinavian - Heir, descendent, beloved
Leo - Latin/Greek - Lion
Leon - Latin/Greek/French - Lion, son of a Lion
Levi - Hebrew - Joining, attached
Luka - Italy/Slavic - A person from Lucania
Luke - Latin - The bright one, the one born at dawn
Max - Latin - The greatest
Milo - German - Soldier, merciful
Nash - English - By the ash tree
Neo - Latin - New, gift
Nico - Greek - People of victory
Noah - Hebrew - To comfort
Oak - English - Oak tree
Otis - German/English - Wealth, son of Otto
Pax - Latin - Peaceful
Piet - Dutch - Rock
Pike - English - A person who lives on a sharp hill
Poe - English - Peacock
Quana - Native American - Aromatic
Ray - English/German - Counsel, mighty protection, guards wisely
Reed - English - Red-haired
Remi - French - Oarsman
Ren - Japanese - Water lily, lotus
Rhett - English/Dutch - Advice
Roan - Gaelic - Little red-head
Rory - Irish - Red-haired King
Ross - Gaelic - Promontory, headland
Roth - English/German - Red, wood, renown
Roy - Gaelic - Red
Rudy - German - Famous Wolf
Ryan - Irish - Little King, illustrious
Saint - English - Holy person
Saul - Hebrew - Ask, question
Sid - French/English - Wide meadow
Slade - English - Valley
Tate - Norse - Cheerful
Teo - Spanish - God
Tim - English - One who honours God
Toby - English - God is good
Torin - Gaelic - Chief
Troy - Irish - Descendent of a foot-soldier
Tye - English - Someone who lived near a pasture
West - English - Western stream
Wolf - German - Travelling Wolf
Zane - Hebrew - God is gracious
Zeke - Hebrew - God strengthens
Zen - Japanese - Peace
Zev - Hebrew - Wolf
#namelist#namelists#name list#ts4#simblr#ts4 names#ts4 name list#ts4 name lists#writing resources#writing resource#writeblr#writeblr names#character creation#oc creation#writing#name ideas#names#short names#short name#oc resources#the sims#the sims 4#sims#sims 4#s4
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Alrightttt
I see a fellow Ney hoe fan 👀👀👀
(Seriously I have never realised that he got so much hoes simping over him ever since that Ida Saint-Elme person during his lifetime)
For the marshalate ask, I would like you to do 7, 8, 9 and 12 please :3
Oh, hello! Thanks for creating that ask game haha :D
bUT YES NEY MY BOY (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) MY FAVORITE MARSHAL <33 I need to find more people that simp for him oml HAHAHA
I don't have a lot of information on each marshal (but I guess it's enough? xD) so I apologize if I get anything wrong >_>
Okay I need to stop screaming, time to answer hehe:
7) In your opinion, which marshal is underrated/should get more attention?
-I have multiple; Poniatowski cuz of his loyalty (it's sad on how he was only a marshal for 4 days :<), Oudinot cuz oh my god how the hell did he get so many wounds but still live until an old age that's dope, and Suchet cuz he was the only undefeated general throughout the whole Peninsular War and I think that's really impressive, considering everything that was going on at that time
8) Who is your favourite coalition commander?
-I'm not sure if I'm answering this correctly but I'd say Mortier (I don't know what he did but it says he was dope during the second coalition war and that already got me interested, perhaps I'll read about it-) and Ney my boy <3 (it says he distinguished himself in the first coalition and I just wanna put him here cuz I love him HAHAHA)
9) The worst opinion you heard from others on your favourite marshal?
-From one person: He said on how Ney wasn't THAT good and that him escaping from the Russians was "his one moment", and he also said that Ney is overrated + his decision at Waterloo was a dumb mistake. I hope this person didn't say more cuz I don't want to punch my computer screen-
12) Favourite portrait of any of the marshals?
-I have so much to list oml HAHAHA. I'll just put some but-
Yes, those are just two different portraits of Ney and Lannes HAHAHA. But they look really good though!
Thanks so much for sending in an ask! I really appreciate it! I'm happy to meet a fellow Ney fan :D
#frassycassy#ask game#marshalate ask game#elisabeth515#im sorry for the long post#i just never get interactions#so im really thankful for this-#tbh this isn't even everything i want to say#but i don't want to spam too much WAHAHA
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"He thanked me with a smile almost like a pretty woman's”
Ida Saint-Elme was in Milan where Napoleon also was, to be crowned King of Italy. She was in a theatrical production and he sent for her. I don’t know whether her memoir is considered accurate.
A door I had not noticed was just then thrown open, and I found myself in a study twenty feet square with the Emperor Napoleon, the monarch for whom the world was too small. At first he neither bowed nor acknowledged my presence. Then, stepping up toward me, he observed:
“Do you know that you look several years younger here than on the stage? ”
“I am happy to hear it."
“You used to be very intimate with Moreau?”
“Very intimate.”
“He did some foolish things for your sake!"
To this I made no answer. The emperor then came close to me, and we talked more freely still. He was very engaging, sufficiently so, at least, to make me forget Moreau for the emperor-king; his compliments were blunt rather than sentimental. It was easy to see that women could exercise little power over Napoleon.
He looked at me with eyes so piercing that one might have thought that he saw through and through me, at the same time asking the question:
“Are you German, then?"
“No, Your Majesty. I was born in Italy, and I have a French heart."
He gave me another glance, seemed to hesitate for a minute or two, and then remarked with royal condescension:
“I may do something for you."
After dispensing this veritable petitioner's sop he vanished.
I was escorted home by the officer who brought me, and who plied me with questions as to the interview.
Once more alone, I underwent a double sensation of pride and humiliation. I was proud at having attracted Napoleon's attention, and felt humiliated because I had not been able to resist the fascination of Moreau's enemy, who inhabited the same house that nine years before I had lived in with the general, enjoying the universal respect due to a legitimate spouse.
The next day the grand marshal called upon me. He surprised me less by the magnificent gift he brought me on the emperor's behalf than by a second invitation to the palace. I wanted to refuse the gift, to which I did not believe myself entitled. But Duroc gave me such cogent reasons for accepting it that I at length complied, enquiring from him whether I ought to thank the emperor.
So I went to the palace again that evening, as I had been commanded. Only on this occasion I had much longer to wait. The grand marshal escorted me into a very spacious room, which bore more resemblance to a minister's office than to a royal study. The emperor was seated at a desk, signing an enormous bundle of despatches. He looked up for a moment merely, as we came in, immediately resuming his work. The grand marshal signed to me to sit down, and himself withdrew. More than a quarter of an hour elapsed before the emperor seemed to remember my presence. Suddenly, turning about without dropping his pen, he remarked:
“Are you tired of waiting?"
“That would be impossible, Your Majesty.”
“How impossible? ”
“Am I not witnessing the labours of a great man? Is that not the most interesting sight imaginable?”
Hereupon I rose. He did likewise, and came over to me in a much friendlier manner than the day before. Of a sudden he cast his eye down upon a corner of his desk, crossed the room, and pulled the bell-rope. A Mameluke at once appeared in the door opposite that by which I had entered. I was so startled at his appearance that I fell back into my chair. He fastened his eyes upon me in a terrifying manner. He handed a parcel of letters to his master, who took them from him in silence, and laid them on his desk. The Mameluke left the room.
The emperor then came towards me once more. His eyes expressed far more of Italian ardour than imperial dignity. I gave not a thought to etiquette, and he was affability itself. Our friendly interview spun itself out both of us unwitting—until two o'clock in the morning.
“Do you never sleep?" I asked him.
“As little as possible. Whatever is taken from sleep is added to real life.”
In speaking of such a remarkable man, the slightest reminiscences seem important. I may therefore be pardoned for giving a few more details.
Napoleon's roughness has been much declaimed against, it being alleged to have been almost savage. This is sheer calumny. Certainly he was no foppish ladies' man. But his gallantry, for the very reason that it was not commonplace, was all the more acceptable. He pleased you because he was sincere. He would not tell a woman outright that she was beautiful, but would describe her with the touch of an artist.
“Would you believe it,” he acknowledged smilingly, "that when I saw you on the stage I suspected your good looks might be partly contraband?"
It has also been stated that his skin had the hue and other unpleasant peculiarities of that of coloured people. Those who have seen him from close proximity will join with me in denying this report. Nor did the emperor at all resemble the slim, frail-looking General Bonaparte. His face had gained in nobility of expression, which was, however, as simple as ever. His eye was incredibly sharp and piercing, and the fine lines of his profile recalled the Cæsarean model. His hands, which have been much praised, justly merited their reputation. I commented upon their whiteness, and he thanked me with a smile almost like a pretty woman's — such is the childish vanity of even the greatest characters on some personal matter.
I may here confess to a change of opinion, experienced by many others at that time. Dating from my interviews with Napoleon, I never thought of him excepting as the greatest man of his age. My enthusiasm for him was thenceforth unbounded.
— Memoirs of a Contemporary by Ida Saint-Elme
#memoirs of a woman who claimed to be mistress of Moreau and Ney#maybe she was#I don't know#description of a private meeting with Napoleon#another person seduced into admiring the Emperor
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A Little This and That...
I get questions often on Napoleon’s appearance and Napoleon’s physical look. In the current book I am reading, I’ve come across several descriptions so far that describe Napoleon, so far during the Consulate years. Instead of forgetting them, I am jotting them down here to pass on for those interested.
“On 26 December Talleyrand duly picked up Hyde de Neuville in his carriage and drove him to the Luxembourg, where he was ushered into a room and told to wait. When ‘a small insignificant-looking man dressed in a scruffy greenish tail-coat entered, his head lowered’, Hyde took him to be a servant, but the man walked over to the fireplace and, leaning against the mantelpiece, looked up and, as Hyde notes, ‘he appeared suddenly taller and the flaming light in his eyes, now piercing, announced Bonaparte.’
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, pages 254-256)
“Andigné too was astounded at finding himself face to face with a ‘small man of mean appearance’ in an ‘olive coloured’ tail-coat.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 256)
“‘In his disagreeable foreign accent, Bonaparte expresses himself with brevity and energy,’ noted Andigné. ‘A very lively mind causes him to run his sentences one into the other, so much so that his conversation is quite difficult to follow and leaves much to be guessed at. As animated in his conversation as he is nimble in his ideas, he continually leaps from one subject to another. He touches on a matter, leaves it, returns to it, appears to hardly listen to one while not missing a word what one says...An immoderate pride which causes him to place himself above all that surrounds him leads him continually back to himself, and to what he has done. He then becomes prolix and listens to himself speak with visible pleasure, and does not spare one a single detail that could flatter his amour-propre...”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 256)
“He usually rose at seven and had the newspapers and sometimes a novel read to him while he washed, had himself shaved (something he was slow to learn to do for himself), and dressed. He would then work with Bourrienne in his study, only leaving it to receive ministers or officials in an outer office. He usually ate lunch alone, seldom spending more than fifteen minutes over it and often less. He preferred simple dishes, although he had brought home from Egypt a taste for dates and enjoyed a ‘pilaff’. He only ever drank a single glass of wine, always Chambertin, usually watered down. He would follow this with strong coffee. He was sometimes joined by Josephine and often employed the time talking to people such as artists or writers he wished to see, who stood around as he lunched.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 259)
“Gone was the threadbare ‘greenish’ tail-coat. He had designed a uniform for the consuls which was a clear break with the togas and plumes of the Directory. It consisted of a blue tail-coat buttoned up to the chin, with a standing collar and cuffs enhanced by gold embroidery, white breeches, and stockings, and a more sumptuous version in scarlet velvet for ceremonial occasions such as this. Gone too were the lanky strands of hair limply framing his sallow face, replaced by a closer crop a la Titus. He also began to take greater care over his toilette, insisting on frequent changes of linen and manicuring his hands, of which he was inordinately proud. He bathed frequently and doused himself in eau de cologne.
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 262-63)
“Bonaparte’s new role meant he had to learn to behave. Until now, he had operated in a military environment with sallies into small-town politics and wartime diplomacy. He had never had to accomodate the niceties of convention or adapt to civil procedure and had not had the opportunity to develop normal social skills. He was tactless and had, according to one of his ministers, all the grace of a badly-brought-up subaltern, using his fingers at table and getting up from it regardless of whether his companions had finished eating.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 263)
“He was kind by nature, quick to assist and reward. He found comfortable jobs and granted generous pensions to former colleagues, teachers, and servants, even to a guard who had shown sympathy during his incarceration after the fall of Robespierre......Whenever he encountered hardship or poverty, he disbursed lavishly. He could be sensitive, and there are countless verifiable acts of solicitude and kindness that testify to his genuinely wishing to make people happy.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 263)
“He possessed considerable charm and only needed to smile for people to melt. He could be a delightful companion when he adopted an attitude of bonhomie. He was a good raconteur, and people loved listening to him speak on some subject that interested him, or tell his ghost stories, for which he would sometimes blow out the candles. He could grow passionate when discussing literature or, more rarely, his feelings. When he did, he was, according to Germaine de Stael, quite seductive, though the actress Ida Saint-Elme found ‘more brusquery than tenderness.’ in his attempts to charm. Claire de Rémusat also found his gaiety ‘tasteless and immoderate’, and his manners often more suited to the barrack room than the drawing room. He was generally ill at ease with women, not knowing what to say and making gauche remarks about their dress or their looks, and allowing his lack of consideration for their sex to show. Only in the presence of Josephine was he less prickly.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 264)
“He was most at his ease with children, soldiers, servants, and those close to him, in whom he took a personal interest, asking them about their health, their families, and their troubles. He would treat them with a joshing familiarity, teasing them, calling them scoundrels or nincompoops; whenever he saw his physician, Dr. Jean-Nicolas Corvisart, he would ask him how many people he had killed that day. His way of showing affection was giving people a little slap on the cheek or pinching their nose or ear. He was curiously unconscious of causing pain, even when a hard pinch of the nose brought tears to the victim’s eyes, and since they regarded it as a mark of great favour, which it was, nobody objected. ....It was a gesture of familiarity that defused many an awkward situation. Yet real familiarity was something Bonaparte seemed to fear, and only a select few, such as Duroc and Lannes, ever got away with addressing him with the familiar tu.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 264)
“He did lose his temper, but he was quick to calm down and forgive. He did on occasion lose control and break things or stamp on his hat. He once hit the interior minister Chaptal with a roll of papers and was known to use his riding crop, on one occasion striking a groom across the face for negligence which had led to a horse throwing him, for which he would make generous amends. Most of his rages were feigned, either to frighten people, to make an example of an officer in front of his men or a general in front of his peers, or just to test someone’s reaction.”
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 265)
“Divova found him ‘amiable, charming, kind, honest, polite’; Maria Edgeworth was less complimentary about his ‘pale woebegone counternance’, and thought him ‘very little’; the eccentric Bertie Greathead was disappointed to find him not as ‘melancholy’ and ‘not so picturesque’ as he had imagined, adding that ‘his person is not only little, but I think, mean.’ The landscape painted Joseph Farington noted, ‘He picked his nose very much.’ Fiszerowa thought he looked ill at ease, and noticed that ‘When he spoke with the ministers of foreign courts, he twisted the buttons of his coat like a schoolboy.’ Fanny Burney was transported by his face, in which ‘care, thought, melancholy, and meditation are strongly marked, with so much of character, nay, genius, and so penetrating a seriousness, or rather sadness, as powerfully to sink into the observer’s mind.’“
(Napoleon, A Life, Adam Zamoyski, page 336)
#napoleon#bonaparte#Napoleon Bonaparte#Emperor Napoleon#Emperor Napoleon I#Emperor Napoleon Ier#Napoleon I#Napoleon Ier#Adam Zamoyski#Napoleon A Life#Book exerpts#exerpts#descriptions of Napoleon#Napoleon the man#Napoleon the person
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2.4.2. Voyeurism, Tourism, Vicariousness
The bagne occurs as frequently in recits de voyage whose authors pass through Toulon, Brest or Rochefort as it does in exposes and reports that take it as a main subject; almost in spite of themselves, travelers saw the institution and its inmates as a tourist attraction, and were perhaps correct to do so (just as Jean Valjean was correct to fear especial infamy in Toulon because of his having being mayor in Montreuil-sur-Mer)--although they were often left more depressed than edified, especially if, unlike Alhoy, Appert, Sers, et al., they had not prepared themselves specifically for the visit. Nonetheless, a stop at the bagne--particularly the bagne of Toulon--remained an almost compulsive bourgeois pastime in the first half of the nineteenth century, and Stendhal differed greatly from his contemporaries in his refusal to go. Of course, a failure to visit the bagne in person did not preclude a voyeuristic preoccupation with the subject; Toulon (and to a degree, Brest and Rochefort) loomed large on the Parisian horizon.
Furthermore, the bagne could not necessarily be avoided even if one avoided the prison proper, for the same reason that municipal authorities found it necessary to issue ordinances controlling the contact between forcats and city-dwellers or sailors. In her 1831 memoirs, Ida Saint-Elme begins her description of a trip to Toulon--itself a necessary corollary to a visit to Hyeres--with the typical touristic litany: “Pendant notre séjour à Hyères, nous allâmes passer vingt-quatre heures à Toulon. Je vis, ou plutôt je revis ce qui fixe habituellement l’attention des voyageurs, l’arsenal, les galères, le chantier de la marine, la corderie et mille autres choses dont, malgré mon humeur guerroyante, je m’abstiendrai de parler.” She continues, “Je vis aussi le bagne, où, comme dans l’enfer du Dante, il faut laisser tout espoir à la porte,” and notes that the bagne has improved under the care of the commissaire Reynaud, who is both “severe” and “juste.”
The bagne is horrible both in spite and because of the fact that it is a lieu commun; it is clear that it needs no introduction, and a visit to it, when one is in Toulon, needs no explanation or justification. What is less expected, and completely unwelcome, is an encounter with bagnards in a church that resembles nothing so much as the other side of Jean-Joseph Clemens’ lament--“S’ils voient le monde qu’elle est leur satisfaction ? est-ce de se donner en spectacle chaque jour aux etrangers ?”--although for Saint-Elme, these brushes with the abject must be prepared for if one is to live in a city with a bagne. That is to say, although specific encounters cannot be predicted, the fact that they happen is as predictable as it is undesirable. She is not so much against the suffering of prisoners per se as against visible suffering: out of sight, out of mind.
Her distress at seeing convicts out in the world, moving in the same circles as she does but not as freely, is yet another expression of the monde-bagne concept already articulated by Valerie Boissier and Arthur Schopenhauer: “J’aimerais bien mieux que, comme en Angleterre, nous eussions un Botany-Bay. L’aspect presque continuel et inevitable des galeriens a quelque chose de fletrissant qui degrade l’espece humaine. Il faut une grande froideur d’ame ou une longue habitude pour se faire au spectacle d’une telle degradation. Des malheureux enchaines travaillent et s’agitent parmi la foule en faisant retentir le pave du bruit de leurs fers!” (183-4). What Saint-Elme finds so difficult to bear, with respect to the specific incident in the church, is both the juxtaposition of the beautiful (flowers) with the abject (convicts), and the fact that in such a place, all worshippers are brought down to the same level socially and perhaps spiritually as well. She finds herself confronted not only by the bodies but also by the souls of forcats, in a way she would not be in the bagne or even the street, and is as shaken by the sight of these “galeriens” as Clemens was by being seen by “le monde”:
“Un jour je me trouvai a Toulon, comme on celebrait je ne sais plus quelle grande fete a l’eglise. Je ne saurais rendre compte du sentiment desagreable qui me saisit quand je vis huit galeriens avec leur costume et leurs chaines, portant sur des brancards des vases et des fleurs, traverser la nef jusqu’a l’autel et les deposer sur la premiere marche. J’en fus tellement frappee que je restai immobile, appuyee contre une colonne. Ce vetement de l’infamie, ce bruit de fers, en presence de cet autel pare de fleurs, dans le lieu ou tous les hommes s’abaissent au meme niveau, tout cela me fit involontairement regarder en pitie ce qui se passait autour de moi. Ah! bien certainement, je ne voudrais pas pour cinquante mille livres de rente habiter une ville ou il y aurait un bagne; c’est bien assez de passer pres des murs d’une prison!”
Unlike both Saint-Elme and the majority of those who willingly sought out such meetings (i.e., the curious and the philanthropically-minded), Alexandre Dumas maintained an ironic distance from the bagne and its prisoners; between his first-person account of his visit to Toulon and encounters with convicts in Une annee en Florence, and the fictional Gabriel Lambert, there is little discernible difference in tone or even content, since in the latter, he speaks from the perspective of a fictional alter ego who shares his name--as he also does in, e.g., Les Mille et un fantomes. [...]
Parenthetically, it was not only writers, journalists and philanthropists who visited the bagne, or had the possibility of doing so; when the Intendant de la Marine wrote a confidential memo to the commissaire Reynaud in 1825 ordering that Lord Cochrane (probably Thomas Cochrane, 1775-1860) not be allowed into the enceinte du bagne during the latter’s possible stay in Toulon, it was probably because he feared that the British naval officer, whom Napoleon had nicknamed “le loup des mers,” might use a visit to the bagne proper as a pretext to see the Arsenal. His order, as well as his request that Reynaud have his spies follow Cochrane, was eventually rendered unnecessary as the latter opted to bypass the city on his travels; but the need to pre-empt such a visit--to the bagne specifically, and not merely the port in general--suggests that the prison may have been a routine part of any foreigner’s sightseeing.
no structure no transitions we randomly string together vaguely thematically connected anecdotes like men
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😥 I was working long hours and took even longer to get to work (due to train strike), so I missed Marshal Ney’s birthday. I’m so sorry! I had planned to translate something special, and I hope it’s still a bit of a present even if it’s a day late.
In summer of 1809, while Soult was still licking his wounds after the disaster in Oporto, anxiously waiting for Napoleon’s judgement and trying to defend himself against all the rumours that accused him of high treason, all the while doing his best to bring Joseph and Jourdan to some action against Wellington - guess who at the same time came to Galicia to pay Michel Ney a visit? Right, Ney’s most devoted Dutch fan girl, Ida Saint-Elme! And it’s a particularly romantic part of her recollections, which were published as "Mémoires d’une Contemporaine":
Ney, who was hardly resting either, had just subdued Galicia.
Okay, Soult already wants to protest against this claim, but let’s ignore him. Please, Ida, go on:
I joined his corps at Banos, forty-eight hours before he came face to face with the English army, which the Marshal completely defeated.
Already the spectacle of war, meeting the French battalions, the scent of glory, sweeter to breathe in this country than that of the orange trees that embalm it; this active life, animated entirely by emotion and spectacle, revived my imagination weary of the empty pleasures of the courts and of voluptuous Italy. I felt I was in my element: I was close to Ney, close to the heart that alone could make mine beat. I was happy just to know that he was so close to me and to tell him that we were barely a league apart. Here is the note I received in reply to mine:
"Since it's your taste to have an arm or a leg less, hop on a horse and come here."
As I read this short, military invitation, I jumped in the saddle and rode off.
I had hardly gone a quarter of a league when I met him, and I read in his beaming face all that his note had not told me, the joy of seeing me again, which was the reward for my journey and happiness itself. I have forgotten the names of the places we passed through, but it seems to me that I have never seen a more enchanting place, a more beautiful sky, a sweeter dawn. There was something wild and proud about this rich and picturesque nature.
The road was lined with rocks like a crown. "Here is a magnificent shelter of ravines," Ney said to me, "the tree-lined slopes of which ensure their coolness; let us stop here; you must be in need of rest; we both need to open up and talk;" and here we were, with our horses' bridles slung over our arms, pushing aside the fragrant undergrowth with a vigorous hand, and looking for a retreat that could hear our confidences: it was easy to find in the ravines of Galicia; and, a few hundred paces from the road, we could believe ourselves to be entirely alone in the world. Our horses were quickly tied up, and the secluded spot a little farther on completed the safety of this meeting, so sudden and so little expected. We had been sitting for a few minutes when Ney struck the trunk of an old cedar with his foot, and said to me: "Here, Ida, here is a support for our feet, which will at least save us from a fall;" and, confident in this support so well met, we no longer feared to tread the embalmed moss which served us as a wild divan. I looked at him like one of those figures from a long dream, which the day suddenly shows and illuminates, and which we recognise with all the anxiety and all the troubles of the dream. It's him, though; it's definitely him, I said to myself; I can tell by the glory shining on his forehead, by the pressure of his powerful hand, which is as recognisable as his glory.
Thinking more of the hero than of my love, of the captain needed for his army than of the man needed for my heart, I shuddered fearfully at the thought of this isolation in a country so full of dangers, where a warrior's halt might unexpectedly be surprised by the dagger or bullet of partisans; in a country where hatred of the French name reverberates and watches from mountain to mountain. I felt guilty exposing to these perils, beneath such a great man, a life so dear and so beautiful, that informed assassins could cut it short. It was only a quick thought, but a vivid and gripping one, which, disturbing my thoughts, made me cling tightly to Ney, and as I let out this stifled whisper: "Ney, my friend, let's not stay here; let's go away." - "No, no," he replied, holding me back; "where else would we be, without witnesses to a happiness that I have rediscovered, and which needs solitude and mysterious effusion?" I looked at him with surprise at these words, but with delight, for I was as happy as I was astonished to have remained so dear to him. Never had Ney's face seemed more expressive, never had his looks been more eloquent, never had his words been more intoxicating.
If this was a modern-day AU, this would be the perfect moment for Ney’s phone to ring and for one infuriated Soult to ask why the F he was not receiving any news from Ney’s troops in Galicia. As it was, Ida’s little tête-à-tête with her one-and-only Ney could continue.
At the sight of the security imprinted on the warrior's features, I regained a similar security; there are those moments when everything you feel gives way to everything you inspire. Oh, what inexpressible delights this happiness given by a great man was! Our hearts, separated by such a long time and such long distances, seemed never to have parted, and tasted the pleasure of a similar conviction and an equal sharing of emotions. A new fear came to suspend the enchantment and give it, as it were, all the price of a victory. The reverse side of the ravine which had received us sloped down very rapidly; the trunk of the tree which supported the effort of our feet, a solid yet powerless support, suddenly gave way and broke at the very moment when, immersed as we both were in the rapture of an intimate conversation […]
Listen, it was a conversation, okay? They were only chatting! Intimately chatting!
[…], we had forgotten even the possibility of such a peril, from which Ney's presence of mind and prodigious strength alone saved us: With one hand he seized the branches of the bush that had sheltered us; with the other he pressed and held me violently against him; and, thanks to this struggle, we were able to regain our breath, escape the precipice, and manage to get back to our horses.
I really do not want to know how his aides would have tried to explain the fact that their marshal had fallen into the abyss and to his death while having an intimate conversation. Or why his pants were still up on the cliff...
But if any of the artists out there are looking for inspiration...
Speaking of Ney’s aides, one of them, Levavasseur, in his memoirs has this to say about Ida’s apperance in Spain:
It was at Banos that I saw a French woman arrive on horseback and ask for Marshal Ney. It was the woman who has since called herself la Contemporaine. This woman soon disappeared; what she says about the Marshal in her memoirs is pure invention.
Levavasseur: Don’t you believe what that woman wrote about Ney, she’s a total liar! Besides, she was only with us for a very short time…
But the funniest thing is his casual report on why Ida probably had to leave again so quickly: Ney was already occupied otherwise.
During this trip, the marshal took a tender interest in the duchess; one of my comrades had declared himself the knight of the eldest daughter, and I myself protected the youngest […]
I can’t help but think that the interest the general staff of this army corps was showing to all things female was overly excessive even by French standards… - Wait, what’s that? Oh, another missed phone call for Marshal Ney. Marshal Soult wants to discuss priorities in war times...
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This is for @upbeatmeeting
It is a pretty long answer and I hope it’s ok😅
13: Any recommendations on reading materials/documentaries for the marshals?
I just assume that you have barely started to look into our marshal babies in detail and don’t know a single French. To be honest, the number of English biographies on the marshals, individually, is scarce and most of the books and websites in my list are more overall, brief biographies of the marshalate. (Ngl the marshals made me learn French)
Here’s my list—first, free resources!
I mainly find books from Project Gutenberg and Google Play Books, since they’re more accessible to me to read on mobile phone. Archive.org is also a great website for free books which you can check it out!
Here are some introductory reading on the marshals:
“Napoleon’s Marshals” by R. P. Dunn-Pattison (free book on Project Gutenberg)
“Napoleon and the marshals of the Empire” by Rufus Wilmot Griswold (free book on Google play books)
“Napoleon and his Marshals” by Joel Tyler Headley (free book on Google play books)
Here’s some first-hand resources written by individuals:
“Memoirs of Marshal Ney”
This is a series of works by Ney, published by his family in 1833. Great book for all Ney fans out there OwO (free book on Google play books)
“Military Studies by Marshal Ney”
If you are interested in Napoleonic tactics you should check this out XD (free book on Google play books)
“Recollections of Marshal MacDonald”
This was written by our MacMarshal in 1825; if you would like to get to know some first-hand experiences of the Napoleonic Wars, this is a pretty good account. In addition, you can get to know a bit about the author’s character through his words (volume 1 volume 2)
And then here are some other books on the Marshals:
“Marshal Ney - The Bravest of the Brave” by A. H. Atteridge
A very nice introductory biography on Ney which we have some excerpts posted here (just search through the tag #excerpts from babey book in this blog, I am going to post some more on Ney during the campaign of Russia)
The same author has written a biography for Murat as well, but I personally don’t really like it :p
“The Iron Marshal, a Biography of Louis Nicolas Davout” by J. G. Gallaher
Here’s a pretty nice English biography on marshal Davout, which you can also find the excerpts in the Davout tags (#louis nicolas davout/#savage edge lord) in this blog XD
“Bernadotte: Napoleon’s Marshal, Sweden’s King” by Alan Palmer (*available on Kindle Unlimited)
If you are interested in our trashy bitch, this bio is a nice one to start with.
Bonus
“Memoirs of a Contemporary” by Ida Saint-Elme (aka. My Story with General Moreau and Michel Ney);
This was an account written by an actress who had intimate relationships with general Moreau and marshal Ney during the wars. I had read this recently and found it rather entertaining. (Spoiler: what the bloody hell are those people saying that Ney was having an affair with that Ida woman???? She was LITERALLY PINNING AFTER MY LITTLE GINGER BABEY BRO MICHEL)
For documentaries, recently, Epic History TV has been making a series of videos on the marshals and you really should check it out because they are quite good. (I’m so much looking forward to see them talking about Ney—hopefully they will do him justice🥺😭)
Watch: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Last but not the least, besides me, we also have some very lovely people who posts a bunch of Napoleonic content here for this humble fandom🙈
Imma tag some here: @histoireettralala @joachimnapoleon @microcosme11 @bougredane @twice-told-tales
Thank you for your ask!
#resources#some books to read for learning about the marshalate#napoleonic marshalate ask#I have spent the entire afternoon doing this instead of doing uni coursework help-#I want to eat shortbread with maccies🌚#just had Bratwurst und Sauerkraut this morning and I missed home😭😭😭😭😭😭#and all my mind was filled with the images of Michel and I having breakfast together#sorry for rambling I was missing home idk why
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@usergreenpixel asked me to spill the tea on Ida Saint-Elme. But frankly, I can’t, as I have mostly ignored these memoirs, like most historians seem to have done, assuming they were completely unreliable and totally made up. I only came across them again when I was looking for something on Grouchy. Whom Ida claims to have known in 1795/6 in the Netherlands (where he allowed her to save two émigrés, with a »smile« from Ida as a recompensation).
Of course, my utter lack of knowledge will not keep me from making an extra long entry about her. 😁
I now see that there actually has been a new edition of Ida’s memoirs a couple of years ago, the editor being well-known French historian Jacques Jourquin. His preface can be read through Amazon, and he estimates that Ida’s memoirs are no more or less reliable than those by Laure Junot, Constant or Mlle Avrillon; as a matter of fact, those were originally published by the same publisher. While there is lots of stuff that Ida (or rather Elselina, as that is her real name) made up about her family and her background, probably to make herself look more interesting and to protect her real relatives, the two main points are undeniably true: Elselina was the quasi-spouse of general Moreau for several years (confirmed by plenty of sources), and she later followed Marshal Ney around from the camp of Boulogne into several campaigns, often dressed as a soldier (confirmed in the memoirs of Ney’s ADCs). She also occasionally worked as a spy and informant to Fouché’s police.
At some point, when I finally have more time, I’ll surely have to get this new edition and read Ida’s memoirs. She seems like a very interesting personality. And from the little that I have seen on Gallica, her memoirs actually seem more enjoyable than the stilted writing style of our beloved Duchess of Abrantes.
But mostly, as I still have problems coming to terms with one Michel Ney, who better to convince me that he was an amiable person than his biggest fan? And that Ida surely was. She seems to have been obsessed with him even before she got together with Moreau, after only hearing about Ney’s exploits, and she claims to have asked colonel Meynier to talk to Ney about her before they ever met. Which apparently did not have the desired effect in the beginning:
Moreover, Ney knew in advance the feelings he had long inspired in me, and nothing was perhaps less likely to sway him in my favour than the irresistible drive which carried me towards him without reflection.
Meynier: Hey, Ney, many heartfelt greetings from some married Dutch chick who has never met you but is totally crazy about you!
Ney: … (runs and hides)
Ida (or rather still Elselina at this point) a short time after the event with Grouchy met Moreau for the first time, whom in the beginning she found way too reasonable and boring, compared to Ney. She actually makes a comparison between her two main lovers immediately before the snippet quoted above:
My affair with Ney bore no resemblance to that which linked me to Moreau. When the latter met me for the first time, my conduct still made me worthy of public esteem [...]. I saw in him my protector rather than my lover: he had never hidden from me his intention of one day restoring to me the rank which belonged to me in the world, and my rights to that public esteem which I had so foolishly sacrificed.
The character of Ney was as fiery as that of Moreau was calm and reflective; but apart from this contrast, between two such remarkable men, I was far from being able to inspire the same interest, when circumstances finally brought me closer to this Ney whom I had known, so to speak, only by his fame. Deprived not only of my claims to consideration, and placed by opinion in the class of women who have only their beauty for all merit and fortune, I still had to struggle in his mind against many malicious insinuations, of which I had, without knowing it, been the object.
[...] Moreau would have liked to make me an accomplished woman; he encouraged me to seek the superiority which beauty and the advantages of the spirit give in the world.
Ney, whose tastes and personal habits were far removed from Moreau's gravity, encouraged me to disdain the graces of my sex, and even to seek at times the perils and glory of the stronger sex.
In other words, while Moreau still may have had plans to at one point marry Elselina, for Ney she was one of his occasional affairs, and in addition to that, a sister-in-arms and a prefered drinking buddy. Which probably suited Ida much better.
According to her memoirs, Ida-Elselina only ever had met Ney once (in Moreau’s company) when she wrote him her first passionate love letter:
I must obey my heart; I am therefore not looking for vain excuses. I do not know the art of disguising my feelings: besides, there is something in the depths of my soul which tells me that if my action offends the decorum of the ordinary man, it will perhaps please the noble frankness of your character.
Only once did my eyes see you, and your image was engraved in my heart. United with you in thought, I have shuddered at all your perils, rejoiced in all your triumphs, and applauded enthusiastically at the recital of your beautiful deeds.
My lot is brilliant; some women find it worthy of envy: I would gladly renounce all this glory, for the right to associate myself with your dangers.
Esteem and gratitude unite me with General Moreau. To confess this to you in a letter such as this one, is it not to run the risk of making me contemptible in your eyes? But I cannot fight the irresistible urge of my heart. In confessing to you the feeling that troubles my repose, I have no other thought than to inform you that there is a woman far from you to whom your glory is no less dear than to yourself.
She totally is the type to stand under Ney’s window wearing a »Michel, I want to have your baby!« t-shirt.
Of course, like any good novel heroine, she then – according to herself - got her letters confused and accidentally sent this ardent love letter to – Moreau, instead to Ney. Who apparently didn’t have much trouble to figure out who the real recipient should have been. This then led to a rather painful interview between the couple:
"Elzelina, how has Ney deserved this excessive delirium that has made you forget a woman's dignity?"
"Nothing. He hardly knows me; and perhaps he will never love me."
"Listen to me," resumed Moreau, "this is the last time I shall touch this subject. Ney will not make you happy. I know him, I admire him; but in his brilliant qualities, in that lofty but ambitious soul, there is no happiness for a woman; for the burning caprice she may expect from him is not the lasting love she should inspire."
"Great heavens! What are you telling me! Do you not deceive me."
No bad-mouthing my (not so) secret sweetheart, Moreau!
And at that point, Moreau apparently decided that it was better to let Elselina go, and they broke up. This must have happened before Moreau’s marriage, most likely in 1799. I’ve not yet found the point when Ida finally gets together with Ney.
That’s all the tea I have to spill on Ida right now 😊. All quotes above are from Volume 2 of “Souvenirs d’une contemporaine”, available online at Gallica.
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Okay, one more Ida post, then I’ll let it go. But this is Ida’s and Ney’s first proper encounter. Again, it’s not quite clear when this happens. Sweet Ida has all her dates confused. But as Ney seems about to get married, it’s most likely June/July 1802. Ney has just returned to Paris, and one of Ida’s confidants whom she only ever designs as »D.L.« and who has been her informant in all things Ney for quite some time already, as it seems, has taken a short letter from Ida to Ney’s house. As Ida puts it:
[...] it seems that one has little spirit when one is in love, for this note was the silliest and most badly thought out I had written in my life.
It sufficed, though, because according to »D.L.«, Ney immediately requested
"Is she free? Will I find her alone?"
No Moreau anywhere anymore, right?
Ida in turn then wanted to know if »D.L.« had properly explained everything to Ney, and received the reassurance that
"Yes, everything; he knows it, believes it and will see it, and he will be too happy."
Well. Seems like a plan then.
Ney’s visit was announced for the next evening, and Ida – like every good novel heroine - spent the whole day getting nervous:
Who has not felt all the nuances of a thousand contrary feelings which succeed one another in the hours of a first expectation!
Alas! I was experiencing them all together, when a cabriolet rattling along stopped: the door opened; and I had not had time to believe in my happiness when it was confirmed.
I was out of my mind, but I had so much happiness that this should have been the end of my life.
If Ney had been an ordinary man, one would almost have found ugliness in his face; [...]
You said that. I was biting my tongue here.
[...] but with his noble stature, with his attitude and that look which was all man; on seeing so much glory it was as if one saw beauty. A few words had hardly been exchanged between us, and already we were chatting, we felt like friends of twenty years. With what loyal probity he reminded me of the care for my future!
With regards to her future, Ney tries to talk to her about her relations to Moreau and about how she should have stayed with him or at least let Moreau take care of her financially (a topic Ida cuts short because – hey, I’m busy oogling you, stop distracting me!), and also about the marriage that Napoleon has arranged for him:
Too frank, too loyal to hesitate in the face of a duty and a confession, Ney did not let me remain unaware of Napoleon's plans for his union with a young and beautiful friend of Hortense. By dint of my admiration for such high probity, I was happy to hear him speak of this union which, by a sacred bond, would separate him from me.
"But if you form this bond," I said to him, "will you lay down your arms?
"Lay down my arms! I hope to remain the last on the battlefields; but, you will not believe it, it is Napoleon who generally insists on marriage. I do not know whether he is right: for what man is there who does not change a little with a family, with children?"
Ney was not a man to compromise with a duty, and I dare say that, without this conviction, he would have been less dear to me. At this moment, duty itself was sweet to him, because the woman whom one intended for him was in all things worthy of him. According to his confession of marriage, I would have feared to give Ney an unfavourable opinion of my character, by asking him to return. But how happy he made me by saying to me: "But I am still free; you will not send me back tomorrow: at what time will you be at home?"
"At any hour. I only stayed in Paris for you; I only chose this retreat to receive you here; I will leave it, I will leave Paris, I will leave France when I can no longer wait for you there without crime."
"You are indeed quite dangerous!"
"I will never be for you. I foresee our destinies, which cannot be united; but I shall know how to prefer your glory to my happiness. In losing you, to love alone cannot be a crime, and that will still suffice for my happiness."
"But how could I have inspired in you a feeling so close to enthusiasm?"
"Since your name was pronounced before me by the witnesses of your worth and the companions of your glory."
He clasped me to his heart with violent tenderness, and with this cry: "I swear to you forever a brother's friendship."
I hear you, brother! So … can we say Ida was something like Ney's extended bachelor party?
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Moreau about Ney (according to Ida)
Perhaps I was a bit hasty when I wrote that Moreau had ended the relationship with Elselina/Ida after he accidentally got hold of her ardent love letter to Ney. At least he seems to have tried to look after her for quite a while, even with his wife's knowledge, as Ida writes. The last time the two met was on the occasion of Ida's trip to visit her family in Holland. Moreau brought her some papers, but above all he inquired about Ida's company, fearing she might have gotten herself involved with shady figures (and possibly have talked about him, too). This then lead to some remarks about Ney and his attitude towards Bonaparte:
"Once more, Elzelina, did you tell me the truth about Oudet?"
"My God, yes! Don't talk to me about that man again."
"So be it; but do not associate with him: nothing is as dangerous as political intrigues."
"Then he is a conspirator?"
"Oh good God! a conspirator; you are already in the tone of the reigning family. It is true that Ney will have taught you the language."
"But I don't see him, Ney; he is married?"
"Yes, married to a friend of Queen Hortense; he, a brave man, the bravest of us all, descended to the role of courtier!"
"But," I said, "Ney's wife is endowed with every virtue."
"No doubt; worthy of the name Ney gives her, but that is why he should have chosen her and not received her. But let us leave that; the political forces will perhaps finish."
"But, my friend, all this would not have begun, if you had had more ambition or justice for yourself.”
"Oh, heaven hear me: I do not envy the Corsican; I despise him, and I suffer to see men like Ney serving him as an accomplice in the subjugation of my country."
I had never seen in Moreau this exaltation; I knew well that he had never loved Bonaparte, but never had his aversion been expressed in such energetic terms. He gave me again all the advice that a man of honour can conceive for a woman who interests him, and I left him.
I never saw Moreau again.
Translated from Volume 3 of "Mémoires d'une contemporaine"
Firstly: Moreau is not at all angry that this Lorraine guy has outdone him with his girlfriend. Not at all.
Secondly, the whole passage is completely anachronistic (like much of what Ida writes). Of course, Hortense was not yet queen at this point, and as for Ney's wedding, in a coming chapter Ida will describe her first private encounter with him, and he is still single then. Ida does not follow the rules of chronology any more than any others.
As to the content: This fits the impression I had from both Perrin’s and Hulot’s biographies of Ney, who both hinted at him being an avid courtisan, quite unlike his reputation.
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