Brguet Watch Of Jrme Bonaparte, C. 1809.

Bréguet watch of Jérôme Bonaparte, c. 1809.

Source: https://www.jewellermagazine.com/Article.aspx?id=2426&h=Napoleon’s-jewellery-hits-Australia

How to capture an Austrian Major General

Heinrich Zschokke, educator and writer, was a native of Magdeburg, Prussia, but moved to Switzerland, where he became a citizen and joined the pro-French faction. He accompanied General Loison on part of the 1799 campaign (and was no great fan of his either, though he concedes he was educated and “not without benevolence”, but unfortunately “completely savaged by war”). This anecdote, however, is not about Loison at all, but about the capture of a high Austrian officer. There is an English edition of Zschokke’s autobiography here; I have translated the passage from the German version.

A few weeks later [according to a footnote: 29 July (1799)], the Austrian Major General Bey tried to advance over the mountains from Uri to Unterwalden. It was a rainy day. The enemy was repulsed in the Seelisberg Alps, with the loss of 800 prisoners. Among the prisoners was Count Bey himself. An aide-de-camp of General Loison, Captain Badin, led the engagement against him. Loison meanwhile played trictrac with me at Stans until he had news of the victory. Then he mounted a horse and hurried after his troops.

During his absence, French officers led to me a man who, with an old peasant’s hat on his head, wearing an Austrian uniform, covered with dirt from top to bottom, freezing and cold from the rain, was shivering in all his limbs. It was Major General Bey. After I had provided him as well as possible with linen, clothes and refreshments from my own wardrobe, he told me in what a curious, almost ridiculous way he had fallen into captivity. In order to better survey the movements of the troops, he had climbed a hill; but at the top, on wet, slippery ground, losing his balance, he had fallen; from the other side of the hill he had rolled down until he lay at the feet of a French drummer and a soldier who were engaged in idle conversation. They had pulled him up politely, taken his sword and money from him in the most obliging manner, but not the watch he had offered, and then handed him over to Captain Badin. Such is the fortune of war. Loison reaped the glory of the day playing trictrac; Capitaine Badin remained Capitaine Badin.

»Ah, mon général, what a terrible fall! Here, take my hand, let me help you up. Pleased to meet you. Are you sure you’re not hurt? Let me just take that sword from you … oh, and that wallet, it looks awfully heavy, you really shouldn’t carry around too much weight in your weakened condition … the watch? Oh, no, thanks, please keep it, I already have five of those.«

Napoleonic soldiers, the cutest jerks of European warfare.

Amadeus (1984) dir. Milos Forman

He plays the cello

A small sketch to the legend of Peter Stewart Ney

Personally, I do not believe in this legend. I wrote an article explaining why, but I can't translate it into English yet.

One day I will decide on the design of his hairstyle. But not today.