The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard - How the Brigadier Slew The Brothers of Ajaccio Part 1

**Arthur Conan Doyle** (0:00)
Part 1 of Chapter 2 of The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
How the Brigadier Slew the Brothers of Ajaccio When the Emperor needed an agent, he was always very ready to do me the honor of recalling the name of Étienne Gerard, though it occasionally escaped him when rewards were to be distributed. Still I was a Colonel at 28, and the Chief of a Brigade at 31, so that I had no reason to be dissatisfied with my career. Had the wars lasted another two or three years, I might have grasped my baton, and the man who had his hand upon that was only one stride from a throne. Murat had changed his hussar's cap for a crown, and another light cavalryman might have done as much. However, all those dreams were driven away by Waterloo, and although I was not able to write my name upon history, it is sufficiently well known by all who served with me in the great wars of the Empire. What I want to tell you tonight is about the very singular affair which first started me upon my rapid upward course, and which had the effect of establishing a secret bond between the Emperor and myself.
There is just one little word of warning which I must give you before I begin. When you hear me speak, you must always bear in mind that you are listening to one who has seen history from the inside. I am talking about what my ears have heard and my eyes have seen, so you must not try to confute me by quoting the opinions of some student or man of the pen who has written a book of history or memoirs. There is much which is unknown by such people, and much which never will be known by the world. For my own part, I could tell you some very surprising things were it discreet to do so. The facts which I am about to relate to you tonight were kept secret by me during the emperor's lifetime because I gave him my promise that it should be so, but I do not think that there can be any harm now in my telling the remarkable part which I played. You must know, then, that at the time of the Treaty of Tilsit, I was a simple lieutenant in the Tenth Hussars without money or interest. It is true that my appearance and my gallantry were in my favour, and that I had already won a reputation as being one of the best swordsmen in the army, but amongst the host of brave men who surrounded the emperor, it needed more than this to ensure a rapid career. I was confident, however, that my chance would come, though I never dreamed that it would take so remarkable a form.
When the emperor returned to Paris after the Declaration of Peace in the year 1807, he spent much of the time with the empress and the court at Fontainebleau. It was the time when he was at the pinnacle of his career. He had, in three successive campaigns, humbled Austria, crushed Prussia, and made the Russians very glad to get upon the right side of the Neiman. The old bulldog over the channel was still growling, but he could not get very far from his kennel. If we could have made a perpetual peace at that moment, France would have taken a higher place than any nation since the days of the Romans. So I have heard the wise folk say, though for my part I had other things to think of. All the girls were glad to see the army back after its long absence, and you may be sure that I had my share of any favours that were going. You may judge how far I was a favourite in those days, when I say that even now, in my sixtieth year, but why should I dwell upon that which is already sufficiently well known? Our regiment of hussars was quartered with the horse chasseurs of the guard at Fontainebleau. It is, as you know, but a little place, buried in the heart of the forest, and it was wonderful at this time to see it crowded with grand dukes and electors and princes who thronged round Napoleon like puppies round their master, each hoping that some bone might be thrown to him. There was more German than French to be heard in the street, for those who had helped us in the late war had come to beg for a reward, and those who had opposed us had come to try and escape their punishment. And all the time our little man, with his pale face and his cold grey eyes, was riding to the hunt every morning, silent and brooding, all of them following in his train, in the hope that some word would escape him, and then when the humours seized him, he would throw a hundred square miles to that man, or tear as much off the other, round off one kingdom by a river, or cut off another by a chain of mountains. That was how he used to do business, this little artilleryman whom we had raised so high with our sabres and our bayonets. He was very civil to us always, for he knew where his power came from. We knew also, and showed it by the way in which we carried ourselves. We were agreed, you understand, that he was the finest leader in the world, but we did not forget that he had the finest men to lead. Well, one day I was seated in my quarters, playing cards with young Morar of the Hors Chasseurs, when the door opened and in walked LaSalle, who was our Colonel.