Such was this miraculous passage of St. Bernard.  Horses, cannon, caissons, and an immense quantity of army stores of all kinds, everything, in fact, was drawn or carried over glaciers which appeared inaccessible, and by paths which seemed impracticable even for a single man.  The Austrian cannon were not more successful than the snow in stopping the French army.  So true is it that the genius and perseverance of the First Consul were communicated, so to speak, to the humblest of his soldiers, and inspired them with a courage and a strength, the results of which will appear fabulous to posterity.

On the 2d of June, which was the day after the passage of the Ticino, and the day of our entrance into Milan, the First Consul learned that the fort of Bard had been taken the evening before, showing that his dispositions had led to a quick result, and the road of communication by the St. Bernard was now free from all obstructions.  The First Consul entered Milan without having met much resistance, the whole population turned out on his entrance, and he was received with a thousand acclamations.  The confidence of the Milanese redoubled when they learned that he had promised the members of the assembled clergy to maintain the catholic worship and clergy as already established, and had compelled them to take the oath of fidelity to the cisalpine republic.

The First Consul remained several days in this capital; and I had time to form a more intimate acquaintance with my colleagues, who were, as I have said, Hambard, Roustan, and Hebert.  We relieved each other every twenty-four hours, at noon precisely.  As has always been my rule when thrown into association with strangers, I observed, as closely as circumstances permitted, the character and temper of my comrades, so that I could regulate my conduct in regard to them, and know in advance what I might have to fear or hope from association with them.

Hambard had an unbounded devotion for the First Consul, whom he had followed to Egypt, but unfortunately his temper was gloomy and misanthropic, which made him extremely sullen and disagreeable; and the favor which Roustan enjoyed perhaps contributed to increase this gloomy disposition.  In a kind of mania he imagined himself to be the object of a special espionage; and when his hours of service were over, he would shut himself up in his room, and pass in mournful solitude the whole time he was not on duty.  The First Consul, when in good humor, would joke with him upon this savage disposition, calling him Mademoiselle Hambard.  “Ah, well, what were you doing there in your room all by yourself?  Doubtless you were reading some poor romances, or some old books about princesses carried off and kept under guard by a barbarous giant.”  To which Hambard would sullenly reply, “General, you no doubt know better than I what I was doing,” referring in this way to the spies by which he believed himself to be always surrounded.  Notwithstanding