We have little information about Constantin de Crassier’s time in Frankfurt. We do not know whether circumstances allowed him to visit his family and it is in France, in the department of Isère, that we can find him. He wrote from Vienne, on the Rhône, on 9 February 1809. He was displeased with the garrison and astonished at the attitude of the inhabitants, which would seem to indicate that by 1809 the public opinion in France had had enough of war. Yet what could the poor soldiers returning from Poland have done about it! Let us allow Constantin to speak to his brother:
I was supposed to write to you on our way to Lyon, but as we had to leave that very night I just did not have the time to get myself to it. We arrived the same day in this place which we have never ceased to resent. Fortunately we were in great need of rest, which somewhat alleviated the regret of being there for so long, even though we still had no prospect of leaving. If we are no longer at war I do not despair of seeing you any time soon. I presume that a half-year’s leave will be granted and that you will be pleased to see me and take advantage of it, is that right?
After dwelling on this hope that will be granted, he continued:
We have been singularly refused in this town. Many of the inhabitants are as mischievous as dogs. Some hotheads, affected by wine, sought us out and boasted of throwing a chasseur of the 10th Regiment into the Rhône. We had several chasseurs who were ill-treated. Our sentries were insulted at night. We had to patrol after patrol and have our weapons loaded as if facing our enemy. Several musket shots and bayonets have already dispersed these fools. This could go a long way towards calming matters down. I cannot assure you that it will stay that way. This town was once garrisoned by the 2nd Regiment of Dragoons, which was forced to evacuate.
Perhaps they were thinking of dismissing us in the same manner. The civil authorities acknowledged that the inhabitants were in the wrong. It is strange that the inhabitants are not subject to the same discipline as our chasseurs and it would be desirable if, in such an event, a hundred inhabitants perished in preference to a chasseur. We notice a great difference between this region and that of our enemies. In the latter we were treated with respect and regarded with pleasure [sic] and it is in our country that they want to strangle us. I am inclined to believe that this is a band of cowards detached from the law abiding citizens, but I am also inclined to believe that they are allowed to do so.
Triumphal arches, meals, music and complimentary performances were prepared as we passed through the major towns. It was all carefully organised. The inhabitants murmured very vehemently about contributing to all this, as their intention would have been to give us a poor reception.
I have requested your last letter dated 5 December (today is 9 February) and then all those that the family sent me in Lyon… Nothing is more depressing than this town. During the summer, it seems that parties are frequently held there, and the surrounding area is charming.
Farewell my dear brother, I embrace you with all my heart as well as the whole family. If by chance I were to change location I would not fail to inform you. I embrace you once again.
Indeed, the 3rd Chasseurs soon left France and poor Constantin embarked on his destiny without ever seeing Liège again. The following letter we have from him is written from Basel. On his way back north, he had hoped for a moment to be closer to his family, but fate had decided otherwise. Napoleon had returned from Spain, where he had made the mistake of retaining his forces, and was preparing to face the Austrians, who had just attacked Bavaria, a French allied country.
Constantin wrote on 18 March 1809:
My dear brother, the venture I wrote about to my sister has just come to fruition. Having arrived at Belfort we have changed course. We are due to arrive at Ulm on the 27th; all the troops are moving towards this point. I presume that you know nothing of our marches. In a little while I hope to provide you with news from far away, even farther away than Vienna. What I find a little distressing is entering the campaign with a pair of trousers [probably a charivari, riding trousers] that are nineteen months old and without a great coat.
How is this possible after a stay in France? This is a surprising fact, and a far cry from the brilliant uniforms we have come to expect from the iconography. History often sheds light on the hidden side of matters. Constantin continued:
Our journey from Silesia to France, our stay in this country, has not only drained all my resources but has taken me beyond them and completely ruined all my clothing.
Imagine what it must have been like for ordinary soldiers when an adjutant attached to the colonel was reduced to writing to his family in such a manner? However, we should let Constantin proceed:
… I have received a letter from my sister Thérèse. Please tell her not to be angry with me if I do not reply. When we get to Ulm I will tell her what has become of us. We are crossing the Rhine to spend the night in Mülheim today. We are going to cross the Black Forest and travel through the country of Baden. This is something new for me.
It will be noted that the letters are generally written quite apart from each other, but it should be borne in mind that free correspondence did not exist and that any letter was charged to the small purse of the grognards.
And here is the last letter we have from Constantin. We find ourselves in Austria. From Vienna on 10 May 1809, our soldier wrote to his elder brother:
… My dear friend, I received your last letter dated 22 April. I had planned to write to you from this place but I intended to get there sooner. Those Austrian rascals have greatly delayed our march by burning the bridges. From now on I will write to you more often. Your worries are bound to end. Every day we are asked for peace.
I was made an officer on 30 April by the Emperor. You owe my promotion to my colonel alone, send him your thanks.
Alas, Constantine’s hopes and those of his family were to be cruelly dashed. Instead of peace, there would be the bloody battle of Essling, where the 3rd Chasseurs in General Marulaz’s Division would be engaged at Aspern on 21 May, as Archduke Charles had rallied the Austrian divisions on the left bank of the Danube to the north of Vienna.
A fortnight later followed the no less bloody battle of Wagram. And at the beginning of August, the poor family in Liège received the distressing news sent from Moravia by the administrative board of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs à Cheval, announcing that ‘Monsieur Constantin Crassier, second lieutenant in the 2nd Company, born on 29 November 1777 in Liège, Department of the Ourthe, was killed in action at the Battle of Wagram on 6 July 1809’. That same day, General Lasalle, under whom Constantin had served, was also killed. Lasalle was given to understand that ‘if you are a hussar and you are still alive at the age of 37, you are a scoundrel’… And he was shot dead during a charge at Wagram at the age of 34.
None of the three de Crassier brothers had attained that age, and their family had paid a heavy price during the Napoleonic period.
Source : Hector Jean Couvreur, ‘Grognards de Belgique – Le destin tragique de trois cavaliers liégeois : Guillaume, Auguste et Constantin de Crassier’, in Revue belge d’histoire militaire, XXII – 6, June 1978, pp. 460-463.
Other accounts to read :
> Letters of three Belgian brothers in Napoleon’s service (II) …
> Correspondence from Charleroi conscripts under Napoleon (I) …
> The plight of a Belgian Guard of Honour, 1813 …
Jonas De Neef's Napoleon Chronicles 