The next man is Auguereau.' I looked with interest upon the hero of Castiglione, who had taken command upon the one occasion when Napoleon's heart and spirit had failed him.

He was a man, I should judge, who would shine rather in war than in peace, for, with his long goat's face and his brandy nose, he looked, in spite of his golden oak-leaves, just such a long-legged, vulgar, swaggering, foul-mouthed old soldier as every barrack-room can show.

He was an older man than the others, and his sudden promotion had come too late for him to change.

He was always the Corporal of the Prussian Guard under the hat of the French Marshal.
'Yes, yes; he is a rough fellow,' said Gerard, in answer to my remark.
'He is one of those whom the Emperor had to warn that he wished them to be soldiers only with the army.

He and Rapp and Lefebvre, with their big boots and their clanking sabres, were too much for the Empress's drawing-room at the Tuileries.