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josefavomjaaga · 2 years ago

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Soult on several French officers

This is taken from the book »Life of General Sir William Napier«, Volume 1. Soult, while in England for the coronation of Queen Victoria, talk to British historian Napier, who wants to know his opinion on several French officers. As usual, Soult is not very forthcoming, his statements are rather brief. There are longer ones on Hoche, on Napoleon and on Joseph Bonaparte, however, that I might post separately if there’s interest. Or you can just look them up yourself under the above link (page 505, bottom, ff, »Generals of the Revolution«). For once, it’s all in English. So, here are Soult’s verdicts on:

MARCEAU. "Marceau was clever and good, and of great promise, but he had little experience before he fell."

This general I had to look up: He died from his wounds in Austrian captivity in 1796.

MOREAU. "No great things."

AUGEREAU. Ditto.

JUNOT. Ditto.

GOUVION ST. CYR. "A clever man and a good officer, but deficient in enterprise and vigour."

MACDONALD. "Too regular, too methodical; an excellent man, but not a great general.”

NEY. "No extent of capacity: but he was unfortunate; he is dead."

VICTOR. "An old woman, quite incapable."

There are some funny scenes with this marshal that Brun de Villeret describes in his Cahiers. Apparently, Brun needed to go calm down Victor on several occasions.

JOURDAN. "Not capable of leading large armies."

MASSENA. "Excellent in great danger; negligent and of no goodness out of danger. Knew war well."

That’s a little less praise for Masséna than in his memoirs. But Soult is all around bragging a lot in this conversation, though it’s hard to tell how much of it may have been jokingly. (Then again – Soult and joking? Probably not.)

MARMONT. "Understands the theory of war perfectly. History will tell what he did with his knowledge." (This was accompanied with a sardonic smile.)

And of course refers to Marmont’s alleged betrayal of Napoleon in 1814.

REGNIER. "An excellent officer." (I denied this, and gave Soult the history of his operations at Sabugal.) Soult replied that he was considered to be a great officer in France; but if what I said could not be controverted as to fact, he was not a great officer, his reputation was unmerited. (The facts were correctly stated, but Regnier was certainly disaffected to Napoleon at the time; his unskilful conduct might have been intentional.)

DESAIX. "Clever, indefatigable, always improving his mind, full of information about his profession, a great soldier, a noble character in all points of view; perhaps not amongst the greatest of generals by nature, but likely to become so by study and practice, when he was killed."

KLEBER. "Knew him perfectly; colossal in body, colossal in mind. He was the god of war; Mars in human shape. He knew more than Hoche, more than Desaix; he was a greater general, but he was idle, indolent, he would not work."

BERTHIER and CLARKE.

"Old women - Catins. The Emperor knew them and their talents; they were fit for tools, machines, good for writing down his orders and making arrangements according to rule; he employed them for nothing else. Bah! they were very poor. I could do their work as well or better than they could, but the Emperor was too wise to employ a man of my character at a desk; he knew I could control and tame wild men, and he employed me to do so."

You could do Berthier’s and Clarke’s job easily, huh? Well, I could name one battle of Waterloo that says otherwise, Monsieur! (So does Napier, btw.)

I think between Berthier and Soult all bridges were burnt. And it really may have been not only from Soult’s side. I can quite imagine how somebody like Berthier, “l’homme de Versailles”, coming from a noble background and placing great value on politeness and good manners, would react to Soult.

#napoleon's marshals #napoleon's generals

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ggomomomo · 1 year ago

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académie chapter 5 | An Offer

"Why is it when trouble is caused, it turns out to be the three of you?"

Chloe clasps her hands on her lap. She has come down from the high of taking down two sentimonsters and wielding a Miraculous for the first time and is now facing the consequences. The three of them are sitting in Madame Bélanger's office in front of her desk. The scent of hot tea wafts inside the room, steaming coming towards their teacher's name plate poised in a manner that looks reproachful to her. The stone-faced Monsieur Pierre stands next to the door like a guard.

"What do you take the school administration for?" Bélanger continues in her clipped tone. "Idiots? Do you have any idea of what you've done?"

The three stay silent with bowed heads. Chloe is halfway to a panic. She'll be disqualified from the competition for sure, maybe even expelled, and her father will never hear the end of it. She bites her tongue and stares down at her painted fingernails.

"You ignored a school-wide emergency alarm, broke into a restricted section of the office, stole Miraculi from the school and proceeded to come after the sentimonsters without caution," their teacher lists off.

Felix opens his mouth first. "I take full responsibility for everything, madame. I initiated the stunt; Adrien and Chloe have nothing to do with it."

Chloe's head snaps up. Even if they were caught, the last thing she will do is let the pompous bastard take the blame. "That's not true, madame. Adrien and I took the Miraculi by our own choice. We're also at fault."

To this, Adrien nods. "We couldn't leave Felix on his own—he didn't force us to transform or anything."

Madame Bélanger barely budges. "Of course the three of you will be punished accordingly. Our cameras caught everything and you are lucky that there were no witnesses around."

"If I may come to our defense, the school was in danger," Felix begins. Chloe grasps his arm tightly as a warning but he ignores it. "The monsters cannot be defeated without Miraculi and our heroes were all the way on the other side of the city. In fact, they never went here to check if the threat was contained even if the alarm was sounded off."

"That does not give you an excuse to act recklessly and try to fight them." Her voice raises slightly, which makes Chloe flinch. "And we called off the alert because we cannot possibly explain to Duncan and Grace how we took out the sentimonsters."

Felix is unrelenting as Chloe expects. She grits her teeth, knowing he's digging a deeper hole for himself. The boy continues, "So you had no plan telling them at all. Is it because you're hiding all those Miraculi? You didn't want them to know?"

Chloe swears she sees a nerve pop on Bélanger's head. The woman stares at Felix from behind her glasses, giving him a look that Chloe actually sympathizes with. Felix is clearly pushing the limits of the confrontation and turning it against the faculty. She and Adrien exchange glances but keep quiet.

"What you have discovered is irrelevant—"

"Those hidden powers that are potentially more lethal than the Ladybug and Black Cat are 'irrelevant'?"

Their teacher takes a big breath.

"Why hide them at all? Why not send out more heroes to defeat those sentimonsters?" Felix narrows his eyes. "Why was the school attacked in the first place?"

Though Chloe objects to intentionally and actively raising a school administrator's blood pressure, she does harbor a curiosity about those questions. The existence of other Miraculi are unheard of; it's enough news to shake the entirety of New Paris if ever revealed to the public. The fact that the Miraculi were discovered and used by them is already bizarre.

"Moreau Academy has the right and responsibility to handle these Miraculi." Bélanger replies, catering to their questions only a little. "And as you said, they can be more lethal than the ones you already know about. It will be extremely dangerous for these to fall in the wrong hands. As well as inexperienced hands, as you have done."

"But we did our job, didn't we?"

"Felix—"

"So why hold it against us?" Felix leans back on his seat. "Also, what's stopping us from making this little secret known to everyone?"

Chloe's eyes widen. To think that he will actually go that far. Sometimes she thinks she has him figured out but he always manages to come up with one surprise after another. It stuns her all the time, even if she's known him all her life.

She looks back at Bélanger as if a match is about to commence. She doesn't know how strong Felix's blackmail is, as people can simply not believe them, but it seems to trigger something in their teacher. It's clear now that the other Miraculi are part of a watertight secret, with the dam threatening to burst because of one student.

Before Bélanger can speak, Felix runs his mouth again. "Considering this little 'secret', does it have something to do with the competition and the dirty deals done under the table?"

Chloe's jaw drops. "Felix!"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry about her friend's boldness. On the other seat, Adrien looks just as speechless, knuckles white from wringing his hands together. Chloe's head whips towards Madame Bélanger, who purses her lips together. The glint in Felix's eye practically screams that he has hit the target, saying 'silence means yes'.

Bélanger makes a brief eye contact with Monsieur Pierre. Chloe's stomach drops—she doesn't know what will happen next and she's afraid to know. Their teacher opens a drawer, the same one where she kept the Miraculi she confiscated a while ago, and brings the jewels back. Then, she hands them off to three of them one by one: to Adrien, the hairpin; to Felix, the bracelet; and to Chloe, the necklace. Confusion muddles Chloe's head.

"Here's what's going to happen." Bélanger's tone was softer, lower this time. "There will be no punishment for you three."

Chloe's grip tightens on the necklace. Is this a joke? A test?

"It seems that you are all curiously stubborn about this situation, and I understand that." For a split a second, vulnerability shone in Bélanger 's eyes. "I will make you an offer, Felix. Adrien. Chloe. We will not disclose what happened today to your parents and we will not be pulling you out of the competition."

She threads her fingers together and puts her chin on top. "In fact, I want the three of you to participate in the competition as you normally would."

"In return?" Felix plays with beads of the bracelet given to him.

"It remains a mystery how and why the three sentimonsters breached our school," Bélanger explains, "I want you to return the favor and investigate for us because our hands are too tied for us to move alone. There is a chance that this attack is not their last and it puts the students in danger especially with the incoming competition."

"Three sentimonsters?" Adrien frowns. "But there were only two."

"Three." Bélanger opens up her laptop and turns it around to show them the screen. A video feed of the security cameras pops up, showing the library of the east wing and a hulking sentimonster knocking over shelves. A suited figure stands on one of the tables, swinging around a sword. A few seconds pass and the strange girl disappears, morphing into a wave of water that floods over the sentimonster and short-circuits it to dysfunction. Bélanger presses a button, fast-forwarding the scene to reveal a sudden lightning strike that incinerates the monster into dust.

What the hell . . .? Chloe barely comprehends what she watched. Another Miraculous user?

"This is the other favor I wanted to ask." Bélanger paused the video. "This is a Miraculous that we do not have in our possession and only appeared for the first time today after decades. Since the wielder may be dangerous, I need the three of you to find a careful but efficient way to take the Miraculous from them."

"A new Miraculous," Felix marvels, not tearing his gaze from the screen.

Monsieur Pierre clears his throat from behind them. "We believe it to be the Miraculous of the Dragon, which controls the elements of nature."

My god . . . just how many Miraculi are there? Chloe takes in a breath and speaks, "But they don't seem hostile."

Bélanger shakes her head. "It is unpredictable what a new player on the field might do. It will be catastrophic even, if they were discovered by the heroes and seen by the public."

"To make things clear, you want us to trace the origins of the sentimonsters that attacked Moreau and this mysterious Dragon Miraculous user," Felix summarizes.

"Yes, and it must go without saying: you shall not speak a word of this to anyone. If you do, you will face worse consequences than what you should be receiving right now."

Chloe sits up straighter. That's enough for her to know not to fuck up the sudden job.

Felix reaches for the necklace in her hand. "To do this, I must take the Fox—"

"Absolutely not," says Bélanger , "The Miraculi I have given each of you is what you will be using and you must not switch them around. Upon deliberations using the footage of your fight, we deem these the best-matchups for your alter egos. Practice with your Miraculi and use them as you see fit with the situation."

Chloe's brows raise. She's sure that Felix handled the Fox well, and she herself felt a connection with the Bee one. She can't understand Bélanger 's motive for switching things up—she's not even confident about conjuring the right illusions or being stealthy. Adrien also looks hesitant whilst holding up the hairpin.

But Felix seems to have an idea about the reasons. A muscle on his jaw twitches as he lowers his hand and scowls at the bracelet.

"Is there some sort of physical guarantee about this whole deal?" Chloe asks. They have to make sure the teachers won't pull the rug underneath them if it's convenient even though they have blackmail material.

"I will draft a contract tomorrow to put it in writing," replies Bélanger . "For now, all students are advised to go home."

Chloe runs her thumb over the circular gem of the necklace. What did we just get ourselves into?

----

Even as Adrien arrives home, the hairpin weighs down heavily in his pocket. The events of the day feel like a fever dream and in any minute he'll be waking up. He becomes too absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly misses his father waiting at the top of the grand staircase.

"Adrien." Gabriel remains as his usual statue-like self, posture straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Adrien freezes like a deer in headlights. The immediate thought that comes to him is: did Madame Bélanger tell our parents after all?

He tries to read Gabriel's face. It's the usual expressionless mask, neutral, but not enraged. Adrien knows ‘enraged’ when it comes to his father, and this one is not quite that mood. His shoulders sag a little in relief.

He spares Gabriel a fake model-like smile. "Yes father?"

Gabriel begins to descend down the stairs. "We have guests this afternoon. Come."

Adrien follows him into the drawing room. What guests? He never brings guests to the house. Why am I involved? He hikes his bookbag up his shoulders, treading with uncertainty on the polished tiles.

The drawing room is brighter than he remembers, with the last rays of the sun filtering in, partially impeded by green curtains. Sitting on the antique chairs are two Moreau faculty members drinking tea: Monsieur Pierre and the principal, Fernand Thayer himself.

"Ah, there he is." Principal Thayer greets him with warm twinkling eyes as he dabs the corner of his lips. "Hello, Adrien. I hope you are alright after the school's incident?"

His breath hitches. Does he know?

"Umm, I'm okay," Adrien lies. He takes the seat across both men, with Gabriel taking the position next to him but keeping a good distance. Meanwhile, Nathalie is by the entranceway with her tablet.

That is when Adrien sees the envelopes on the coffee table. He suddenly pales in dread, getting a hint about why the principal and his teacher were there.

"So I understand you applied for the competition," Principal Thayer says, leaning back.

Fuck.

"Yes, I have." His cheeks ache from the faux smile.

"Upon careful consideration, we have reviewed your profile, and we would like to give you support during the competition."

"Sorry?"

Gabriel clears his throat. "What Mr. Thayer is trying to say here is that Moreau Academy will endorse you as a champion for this year's competition."

Everything Felix said is true. Adrien looks back and forth between the two. Me, me, pre-selected for the competition.

"I don't understand." He frowns. Maybe I can find out more through the principal. "The competition determines the holders of the Miraculi. Why endorse me?"

If Gabriel has given him a scolding look, he has ignored it. Principal Thayer seems unfazed and replies, "In every year of the competition, we have to make sure the winners actually turn out to be competent. Investing in a handpicked selection eliminates any doubt about the champions. All the information you need is here in the contract."

You're basically saying the competition is pointless! Adrien internally screams.

"However, if you do not qualify in the rounds of the competition, you will still be eliminated." Principal Thayer takes a sip of his drink.

"Adrien will get through the competition, of course." Gabriel lays a steady hand on his shoulder, not tight but suffocating for him nonetheless.

Adrien looks down on the paper envelopes, licking his lips. "But—but I don't think I . . . Deserve this privilege."

He speaks it as a candid truth. Obviously, Gabriel has pulled strings but he knows Chloe is more qualified in being a pre-selected pick. Even Felix.

"Don't sell yourself short, Adrien," says the principal, "You possess academic excellence, fencing and martial arts abilities, and charisma for a hero. We've carefully reviewed your background and application. There is no one more worthy."

Adrien doesn't say that those achievements don't feel like his.

"Am I the only one?" Adrien asks.

"There is another aside from you, but we will not be disclosing details about them as per what the contract says."

Adrien's thoughts flicker towards several other candidates. He and this other person are nearly already the future wielders of the Ladybug and Black Cat, a fate he has yet to wrap his mind around.

The hairpin feels heavier in his pocket.

"The contract also has an NDA." Principal Thayer opens up the envelopes himself to take out the papers. "I will give you until tomorrow to go over and sign these. I trust that you will not disclose anything to anyone, not even your closest friends?"

He nods. "Of course." Nope, I'll definitely be taking pictures and sending them to the others.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Thayer," Gabriel tells the guest smoothly. "Adrien will not disappoint you."

----

Marinette tries to slip unnoticed through the back of the bakery after school. She's halfway up the stairs when her mother calls out, "Marinette, honey, is that you?"

Marinette gnaws on her lip, grasp tightening around her backpack strap. "Yes, maman."

Sabine emerges at the foot of the stairs. "I heard what happened at school. Are you okay?'

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Did you get panic attack—"

"I said I'm fine."

Her mother purses her lips together, looking at her intently. She sighs. "Okay, well, we're taking Kai to the airport tonight. Do you want to come?"

"No thanks," Marinette mutters, marching up the stairs, head down.

AO3 Link | Chapter Masterlist

If you want to support my works, you can buy me a Ko-fi here :3

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug fanfic #académie #adrinette #miraculous ladybug au

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mariesrbouipochodian · 8 days ago

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Si on a tout planifié pour que 2013, ce soit marie srboui Pochodian à qui ce serait la fête...

Qui a échappé à être puni...

Surtout depuis 2013...

Qui me souhaite le plus, ''temps mort'' c'est à dire ''ta mort''...

Ils soupçonnent marie tartois et Geneviève moreau baurand... Moi, je soupçonne ma voisine du dessus puisque je l'entends dire à quelqu'un ou quelque'un d'autre ''temps mort''....

Même eux, ils n'arrivent pas à comprendre cette rage à me souhaiter ma mort.... Qui peut me vouloir morte.. c'est à dire en grand traits, qui avait voulu la mort de monsieur jean en 1983...

#marseille #myself #france

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etiennedaho · 1 month ago

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Extraits diffusés :

La chanson Des heures hindoues dans l'album Etienne Live

La série télévisée Ripley (2024) créée par Steven Zaillian et adaptée du roman policier Monsieur Ripley (1955) de Patricia Highsmith

Le film Love Is The Devil: Study for a Portrait of Francis Bacon (1998) réalisé par John Maybury

La chanson Ouvre (1934) de Suzy Solidor. Etienne Daho recommande la lecture de Fil d'or (1940), roman écrit par Suzy Solidor.

Le titre Lettre à France (1977) de Michel Polnareff

La chanson Sunday Morning (1966) de l'album The Velvet Underground and Nico, avec la voix de Lou Reed

Le titre Terrapin (1970) de Syd Barett

La chanson Remember (2019) du groupe Unloved avec Etienne Daho

Les artistes photographes Pierre et Gilles dans “La 20e heure” sur France Inter en 2024

Le texte Le condamné à mort de Jean Genet mis en musique par Hélène Martin et interprété par Jeanne Moreau et Etienne Daho en 2011 au Festival d’Avignon

Le titre Il ne dira pas (1981) d'Etienne Daho

Choix musical de l'invité : Etienne Daho a choisi de nous faire écouter le titre Time (You And I) du groupe Khruangbin, dont "le guitariste est un vrai virtuose".

#etienne daho #daho #france inter #eva bester #unloved

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major-knighton · 1 year ago

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Monsieur Moreau are you sure this is an eagle sir

Prometheus, 1868 - oil on canvas. — Gustave Moreau (French, 1826-1898)

#Man paints the most vultury vulture ever : is this an eagle?#prometheus #Art

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maxxi-the-procrastinator · 4 months ago

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Reflections

Canon. College days. Pierre x male Avery.

Ink drips on the empty page spread under my idle pen. The inky dot stark against the white paper, taunting me with my lack of focus. I clench my jaw as my traitorous eyes slowly return to the window, rivets of rain streaming down the glass, blurring the darkening sky and college grounds below. Peering past the gloomy scenery outside, I lock onto the view reflected within the classroom.

My pulse speeds at the clear reflection of Avery further within the room, hunched over his desk. Illuminated by the flicking candle next to his identical blank notebook, his pen discarded long ago.

Avery plays with the small flame, his fingers catching the warm glow as he mindlessly dances his fingers over the heat surrounding the candle. Propping his head up with his other hand, his head lolling as he huffs through pouted lips. The flame dancing within his half lidded eyes.

My fingers twitch with the involuntary urge to mirror Avery, to feel the heat of the candle on my desk, warm my fingers that have gone cold from where they hover frozen above my forgotten book.

Avery fidgets in his seat, losing interest in whatever entertainment his candle was providing. Gaze lazily flickers around the room for someone else to bother with his distractions, but only finds others with their noses in their books, scribbling away with a focus that Avery is hard pressed to find. A focus that I should have, but find that I’m yet again letting myself get distracted by him.

His gaze settles and that infuriating spark returns to his eyes. Heat rushes up my neck as I realise who has the unfortunate luck of catching his attention. I tense, still locked on the window’s reflection even as the side of my face tingles under the phantom touch of his roaming flame licked eyes.

Avery pushes back from his desk, languidly hanging off his chair with an infuriating growing sardonic grin.

“Psst… Moreau.” Avery whispers raucously. “Moreau. Psst. Oi-“

I pointedly ignore him, scowling at the window, praying that he would shut up.

“I know you can hear me.” I needn’t see his pestering face, his voice quivers around his smirk, but the sight riles me all the same. “Quit playing cute and stop ignoring me.”

I turn from his reflection and cut a look to his simpering self, the flame winking more vibrantly within his eyes here.

“What?” I snap.

“I’m bored.”

I scoff.

“That’s really too bad.” I sneer.

“Come on, Pierre. Entertain me… please~.”

I freeze, my stomach warming. I violently push down the feeling that hearing him say my name invokes.

“I’m not your personal jester. Go bother someone else.”

Perhaps that clown that follows you around like a puppy. I turn away, glaring at his reflection instead.

“Why would I do that when I’ve got you.”

“Cet imbécile ne sait pas quand se taire.”

Avery blinks.

“Aww. I love you too.” He gushes.

“That wasn’t what I was saying at all.” I deadpan, agitated by how I find myself turning back to look into his twinkling eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that. I don’t need to know French to understand the language of love. And that, Monsieur… was a declaration of love.” He places a hand on his heart. “I felt it, right here.”

“Si seulement il ne pouvait pas parler.” I mutter.

The door slams, startling us both, Avery almost falling out his chair.

“Moreau and Sinclair, why is it always you two?” Our professor bemoans.

“Come on, Sir. Don’t act like we’re not your favourites.”

The student next to Avery groans.

Avery shrugs. “Sorry, the truth hurts.”

Our professor can only sigh in exhaustion, having long ago grown used to Avery.

I return to my empty page, staring down at the lone ink dot, determined not to let myself become distracted again. My hand drifts to the candle of its own accord, my cold fingers brushing over the flames heat.

It’s heat tantalising within the cool room, despite the looming risk of being burnt, I keep finding myself drawn back to it.

My gaze inevitably flickers back to the window’s reflection, where Avery animatedly chatters his seatmate’s ear off.

Heat crawls back up my neck, a warmth that I quickly label as hatred.

Anything to avoid being burnt.