Dancing to impress Polish ladies
Or not, as it would turn out.
At the beginning of December 1806, Soult and staff happened to be in Warsaw, just in time for a big festivity that the city gave to Napoleon on occasion of the anniversary of his coronation and the battle of Austerlitz. Soult himself gave a large dinner, at which the rather free and respectless conversation that people were used to at his table apparently made him feel quite uneasy (letting your aides and officers run their big mouths is a different thing with the emperor under the same roof, I assume 😁). At least that’s the impression that Auguste Petiet had at the time and that he gives in his memoirs. He continues:
We ended the evening at a splendid ball held by the city for the Emperor. The women, covered in jewels, flocked to his steps, and their eager eyes gazed upon a thirty-six year old monarch whose sword had constantly triumphed. Napoleon turned to Soult and said to him, pointing to his aides-de-camp: "Your young men must prove to the Polish women that they are as good at dancing as they are at war".
Which, come to think of it, does sound a bit as if he was calling in reinforcements: Soult, make your boys dance with them, or all those women will come after me… - So they danced.
We waltzed. So far so good. But now we are forming quadrilles. The ladies tell us that the figures are the same as those in the contredanse. It was a mazurka. The steps of this dance are completely alien to us. We mess everything up. This led Lameth to say that, according to the Emperor's comparison concerning us, the Polish women now were going to take us for bad soldiers!
Gotta love Lameth 😁.
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5 Short Fic Recs for Friday!
happy friday! got some recs for you!! i didn't read a lot but I checked out some fics from other rec lists and read some canon blind subscriptions! that worked out great.
Time Has a Funny Kind of Violence by 2Nienna2. Cho character study. 1000 words. Rated M. Really loved the writing and the Cho POV here. She is drawn to Harry — not primarily because of Harry himself, but because they are, in some way, the same. Knowing that he was there, in the last moments, when she was not, pulls at her with an insistent painful interest. That they both came into contact — for a bit — with Cedric, and thus have a sort of shared fate.
2. Also Spake Zarathustra by eldritcher. 1400 words. Rated G. Ken character study. If you are like me and literally everybody I know you probably heard about the Barbie movie! This rec is not a HP rec... It's a Barbie rec! Ken decides he wants to be Barbie because Barbie is cool and Ken is just Ken! It's actually really sweet and wholesome because Barbie ofc is supportive. Lots of gender and social satire. Also lots of classical music. Highly recommend because it's one of those 20 genres in a trenchcoat type of fic! Don't let the fandom stop you from reading it. It's 110% worth in going canon blind. <3
3. The Snow Child by Asenora. 3000 words. Rated T. Tom Riddle Sr./Merope Gaunt. I got this from @ashesandhackles rec post . Omg loved it. It's a fairytale horror take on Merope/Tom Riddle Sr. Really love how the author got the vibe of the fairytale to match the fic perfectly. Also love how the writing says a lot w/o saying a lot. ‘You may think you have him now,’ she says to herself. ‘But one day he will give me a child with skin as white as this snow.’
4. Contredanse by Jay Tryfanstone. 4000 words. Rated T. Caroline Bingley/Elizabeth Benett. Omg love the ending. Love the Elizabeth POV. Love everything! I am actually on a Tryfanstone reading binge this year. One of my all time fav authors and love them so much so ofc reading everything. Thus Elizabeth's view of Miss Bingley evolved. It was clear, she believed, that being of a subservient nature, Miss Bingley had followed the unconscious lead of others.
5. Hunting the Unicorn by therealsnape. 10300 words. Rated M. Minerva McGonagall/Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. I got this from @kellychambliss rec post. Love the characterizations and the banter. Omg the banter! It's on the longer side compared to the other fics on this list but don't miss out on it! Highly recommend if you want some snarky Friday vibes! Thanks to Old Jeremy, Pye was a king. He was a god. He was officially the best thing since Merlin and tea in a bag.
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The Scarlet Pimpernel Sentence Meme (part one)
"He won’t get through my gate, morbleu! unless he be the devil himself."
“Bah! what a man to be afraid of sickness.”
“I thought you’d grown deaf in that kitchen of yours.”
"-you are growing prettier and prettier every time I see you."
"As for me, I vow I could demolish a baron of beef to-night.”
“Odd’s my life, supper at last!”
"“Ah! of course, you must have a leader. "
“Because the Scarlet Pimpernel works in the dark, and his identity is only known under a solemn oath of secrecy to his immediate followers.”
“Why! what a droll name! What is the Scarlet Pimpernel, Monsieur?”
“I have heard that the picture of that little red flower is the only thing that frightens him.”
“he will have many more opportunities of studying the shape of that small scarlet flower.”
“it all sounds like a romance, and I cannot understand it all.”
"I vow, I love the game, for this is the finest sport I have yet encountered.—Hair-breadth escapes . . . the devil’s own risks!—Tally ho!—and away we go!”
“The women even, in France, have been more bitter against us aristocrats than the men,”
“I will not see her!—I will not see her!”
“Let the poor man be—and give him some supper at my expense.”
"Let me get to the fire, I am perished with the cold.”
“La! Did you ever see such an unpleasant person?"
“I forbid you to speak to that woman!”
“did you ever see such a beastly day? Demmed climate this.”
“how sheepish you all look. . . . What’s up?”
" I am ready to offer you the usual reparation between men of honour.”
“What the devil is that?”
"what’s the good of your sword to me?”
"As for me, I never fight duels.”
"your chivalry misguides you, you forget that you yourself have imported one bundle of goods from France.”
“I had the pick of the market, Madame, and my taste is unerring.”
“Remember, dear, I have only you . . . to . . . to care for me. . . .”
"He seemed to worship me with a curious intensity of concentrated passion, which went straight to my heart."
"But it has always seemed to me that it must be heavenly to be loved blindly, passionately, wholly . . . worshipped."
"I would have allowed myself to be worshipped, and given infinite tenderness in return. . . .”
“Pretty women, ought to have a good time, since all the pleasant things are forbidden them—the very things they do every day.”
"I often pass a whole day—a whole day—without encountering a single temptation.”
"They come upon us like the measles . . . and are as easily cured.”
"Where in the world am I to look for him?”
“Whoever the man may be, he is brave and noble, and never—do you hear me?—never would I lend a hand to such villainy.”
“You prefer to be insulted by every French aristocrat who comes to this country?”
“I can defend myself, but I refuse to do any dirty work for you."
“Have you any special instructions for me?”
“I think that you will help me to find the Scarlet Pimpernel.”
"Faith, the tale does infinite credit to your imagination!”
"-and you would now force me to do some spying work for you in exchange for my brother's safety?—Is that it?”
"Now you hold a knife at my throat, and a hostage for my obedience. . . . You find it simple. . . . I don’t.”
“Are you coming, m’dear?”
“virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when it is crushed.”
“Virtue, alas! is mostly unbecoming to your charming sex."
"-his fair adorers have to be content with worshipping a shadow."
“We seek him here, we seek him there. Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven?—Is he in hell? That demmed, elusive Pimpernel?”
“The heat in the room was terrible . . . I felt so faint. . . . Ah! . . .”
“Why do you stare at me like that?”
" How should I venture to thwart the love-god again?"
“You have news for me?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Will your ladyship honour me with the contredanse until your coach is ready?”
“Which means that a brave man’s blood will be on my hands,”
“That Satan, your master, will have need of you elsewhere, before the sun rises to-day.”
“At your service, Madame!”
"Was it three years ago or four that you saw me for one hour in Paris, on your way to the East?"
"When you came back two years later you had not forgotten me.”
“Is it possible that love can die?”
"Do you wish to see me once more a love-sick suppliant at your feet, so that you might again have the pleasure of kicking me aside, like a troublesome lap-dog?”
"I was vain and frivolous; your wealth and position allured me: I married you, hoping in my heart that your great love for me would beget in me a love for you . . ."
"I was tricked into doing this thing, by men who knew how to play upon my love for an only brother, and my desire for revenge."
“I wished to test your love for me, and it did not bear the test."
"You used to tell me that you drew the very breath of life but for me, and for love of me.”
“And to probe that love, you demanded that I should forfeit mine honour,”
"My heart overflowing with love and passion, I asked for no explanation—I waited for one, not doubting—only hoping."
“I swore to you . . . once, that my life was yours. "
"I wished to speak to you . . . because . . . because I was in trouble . . . and had need . . . of your sympathy.”
“How cold you are!”
“I pray you, in what way can I serve you?”
"I have no one to whom I can turn . . . for help . . . or even for sympathy. . . .”
“And so, the murderous dog of the revolution is turning upon the very hands that fed it?"
“will you dry your tears? . . . I never could bear to see a pretty woman cry, and I . . .”
“You have so much influence at court . . . so many friends . . .”
" I pledge you my word that he shall be safe. "
"Now, have I your permission to go? The hour is getting late, and . . .”
“You will at least accept my gratitude?”
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Happy birthday, Marshal Augereau!
It is Augereau’s birthday today, right? Time to party then! 🍾🍷🍻
So here’s a bit about Augereau’s youth, translated from Marbot’s memoirs. Marbot had been Augereau’s ADC during the campaigns of 1805 and 1806, I think.
Pierre Augereau was born in Paris in 1757. His father was in the fruit trade and had acquired a fortune that allowed him to raise his children well. His mother was born in Munich; she had the good sense never to use with her son anything but the German language, which he spoke perfectly, and this circumstance was very useful to him in his travels, as well as in the war. Augereau had a handsome figure; he was tall and well built. He liked all physical exercises, for which he had a very great aptitude. He was a good horseman and an excellent marksman. At the age of seventeen, Augereau having lost his mother, a brother of his mother, employed in the offices of Monsieur, made him join the Carabinieri, of which this prince was the colonel holder.
He spent several years in Saumur, the usual garrison of the carabinieri. His way of serving and his good conduct soon brought him to the rank of non-commissioned officer. Unfortunately, there was a mania for duels at that time. Augereau's reputation as an excellent marksman forced him to have several of them, for the great genre among swordsmen was not to suffer any superiority. Gentlemen, officers, and soldiers, fought for the most futile reasons. Thus, when Augereau was in Paris for the semester, the famous fencing master Saint-George, seeing him pass, said in the presence of several fencers that he was one of the best swordsmen in France. Thereupon, a non-commissioned officer of dragoons, named Belair, who had the claim to be the most skilful after Saint-George, wrote to Augereau that he wanted to fight with him, unless he consented to recognise his superiority. Augereau having replied that he would do nothing of the sort, they met at the Champs-Élysées, and Belair was struck through and through with a sword...
This swordsman recovered, and having left the service, he married and became the father of eight children, whom he did not know how to support, when, in the early days of the Empire, he had the thought of addressing his former adversary, who had become a marshal. This man, whom I knew, had spirit and a very original cheerfulness. He presented himself at Augereau's with a small violin under his arm, and told him that, as he had nothing to give his eight children for dinner, he was going to make them dance contredanses to cheer them up, unless the marshal was willing to put him in a position to serve them more substantial food. Augereau recognised Belair, invited him to dinner, gave him money, gave him a very good job in the administration of the messenger service a few days later, and had two of his sons placed in a lycée.
This conduct needs no comment.
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