During his hours of leisure the Marshal wrote his Memoirs, which he intended to aid the future historian of the French wars. These Memoirs show how clear and cutting his judgments were, both of men and matters, and his criticisms throw many useful lights on Napoleon's character and his methods of warfare, while they also to a great extent reveal his own character. No one who reads them can doubt that St. Cyr was a great strategist, while his powers as a tactician are proved by his never-failing success on the field of battle. But in spite of these talents the Marshal's actual record as a soldier is spoiled by his defects of character. A great believer in living by rule, he had two maxims which he ever clung to. First, that in war acts of kindness are too often harmful; second, the old adage of Machiavelli, "That a victory destroys the effect of the worst operation, and that the man who knows how to give battle can be pardoned every fault that he may have before committed in his military career." It is to these two maxims that we must attribute the want of supervision he showed over his troops and his absolute lack of cordiality towards his fellow Marshals and generals, which gave him the nickname of the "Bad bed-fellow." For that he did not lack the talents of an organiser is shown by the way, when roused, he provided for his troops in Russia, and also by the success of his efforts when Minister of War. But of all his gifts undoubtedly the most useful was his absolute coolness: no matter how badly the fight went, no matter if he were run away with in his carriage and carried straight through a brigade of the enemy's horse, he never was ruffled, never lost his clear grip on the situation. His bitter enemy, Macdonald, well summed up his character in answer to Louis XVIII.'s questions as to whether he was lazy. "I am not aware of it," said the Duke of Tarentum. "He is a man of great military capacity, firm, honest, but jealous of other peoples' merit. In the army he is regarded as what is called a 'bad bed-fellow.' In the coldest manner possible he allowed his neighbours to be beaten, without attempting to assist them, and then criticised them afterwards. But this opinion, not uncommon among soldiers, is perhaps exaggerated, and he is admitted to have calmness and great capabilities."
XIII
BON ADRIEN JEANNOT DE MONCEY, MARSHAL, DUKE OF CONEGLIANO
The glamour of war appeals strongly to most men, to some it calls with irresistible demand. Such an one was the Duke of Conegliano. Born on July 31, 1754, at Palise, a little village of Besançon, the son of a well-to-do lawyer, Bon Adrien Jeannot loathed scholarship and loved adventure. When but fifteen years old the future Marshal ran away from school and enlisted in the Conti regiment of infantry. After six months' service he reluctantly agreed to the purchase of his discharge by his father; but very soon ran away again to enlist in the regiment of Champagne. He served with this regiment till 1773, when, finding that his hopes of gaining a commission were disappointed, he once again bought himself out. A few months, however, spent in the study of the law only served to increase his hatred of a sedentary life and to kindle once more his old ambition, and he again enlisted as a private, this time in the gendarmerie. But now fortune was more kind, and after four years' service he achieved his desire and was gazetted, in 1779, as sub-lieutenant in the dragoons of Nassau Siegen. It was not, however, till April, 1791, that he gained his captaincy, which had cost him twenty-three years' hard service; but now promotion came rapidly, and in three years' time he rose to the rank of general of division.
In 1793 Moncey's regiment of dragoons formed part of the Army of the Western Pyrenees. In the first engagement with the enemy he had the good fortune to distinguish himself. The Spanish commander-in-chief, Bonaventura Casa, led a charge of horse against the ill-disciplined recruits and volunteers who formed the mass of the French army covering St. Jean Pied de Porte. The miserable French infantry broke, with cries of "We are betrayed!" and it was Moncey who, rallying a few brave men, stopped the charge of the enemy's horse. Energetic, clear-witted, and self-confident, he soon became a man of mark. In February, 1794, he was promoted general of brigade, and six months later general of division, in which capacity, in August of that year, he was mainly instrumental in forcing the lines of Fontarabia; on the proposition of Barrère he was, a few days later, appointed by the Convention commander-in-chief of the Army of the Western Pyrenees. In October he fully justified his selection by forcing the famous pass of Roncesvalles, so intimately connected with the names of Charlemagne and the Black Prince. This action, which made good a footing in Spain, was extremely brilliant; the position, strong by nature, had been made almost impregnable by months of hard labour. Moreover, the French troops were badly handicapped by the difficulty of getting food; but, by now, they were very different from the ill-trained levies of 1793. The turning column, which had four days' hard mountain climbing and fighting on three biscuits per man, found nothing to eat, when the pass was forced, save a little flour, for the Spanish had burnt their magazines. In spite of this there was no grumbling, and the men, as their general reported, pressed on with cries of "Vive la République!" Moncey, like Napoleon, knew how to use the great driving force of hunger. He thoroughly deserved the thanks which he received from the Convention, and he fully earned them again when, early in 1795, he drove the Spanish army in flight across the Ebro, for it was his magnificent forward movement which forced Spain to accede to the treaty of Basle.
From Spain the general was transferred to the Army of the Côtes de Brest. A year later he was posted to the command of the eleventh military division at Bayonne, and he was still there when, in October, 1799, Bonaparte returned from Egypt and overthrew the Directory. No politician, it mattered little to Moncey who governed France, as long as the honour of the country was maintained and he saw active service. Accordingly he gladly accepted from the new government the position of lieutenant to Moreau, the commander-in-chief of the Army of the Rhine. But he did not serve long under his new chief, being detached in May at the head of sixteen thousand to cross the Alps by the St. Gothard Pass, as part of the great stroke aimed at the Austrian lines of communication in Italy. His corps formed a flank guard to the main Army of the Reserve, which crossed the St. Bernard under Napoleon himself. In the operations which succeeded the battle of Marengo the First Consul made full use of Moncey's great experience in mountain warfare, and sent him to the Valtelline to join hands with Macdonald, who was crossing the Alps by the Splügen Pass. Thereafter his division formed the left wing of the French army under Brune. After a brilliant series of skirmishes in the mountains, Moncey drove the flying enemy into Trent, but he was robbed of complete victory by the Austrian general, Laudon, who sent a message to say that Brune and Bellegarde had made an armistice. Unfortunately for the French their general, the soul of honour, suspected no deceit, and thus the Austrians were saved from annihilation or absolute surrender.
After the peace of Lunéville General Moncey was appointed Inspector-General of gendarmerie, and on Napoleon's elevation to the throne was created, in 1804, Marshal, Grand Officer of the Legion of Honour, and in 1808 Duke of Conegliano. Moncey invariably spoke his mind, and for this reason was no favourite with the Emperor; further, in comparison with his fellow Marshals, he was an old man, so from 1800 to 1808 he was not employed on active service. But on the invasion of Spain, Napoleon determined to make use of the Duke of Conegliano's knowledge of that country, and ordered him to proceed there with the Army of Observation of the Ocean, which he was then commanding at Boulogne. This army became the third corps of the newly formed Army of Spain. It was composed almost entirely of recruits, and when Murat marched into Madrid at the head of the third corps, the poor physique of these "weak and weedy privates" had a very bad effect on the situation, for the Spaniards thought they could easily defeat such troops. From Madrid the Marshal was sent to capture Valencia, which had broken out into revolt against the French. Though old, the Duke of Conegliano was still active and vigorous. After a month's continuous fighting across mountain passes and rivers he reached Valencia; but he found the town in a state of defence. As Napoleon said on hearing of his check, "A city of eighty thousand inhabitants, barricaded streets, and artillery entrenched at the gates cannot be taken by the collar." Accordingly there was nothing for it but to retreat, and this the Marshal did in such a masterly manner that the failure of his expedition produced but little bad effect on the French cause. When, after Baylen, Joseph held his council of war at Madrid, Moncey alone stood out for the bold course of cutting communication with France and concentrating around the capital; but he was overruled, and the French fell back on the line of the Ebro.
As soon as Napoleon arrived in Spain he vented his anger indiscriminately on all those Marshals who had served under Joseph, but his greatest displeasure fell on Moncey, for the Duke of Conegliano did not believe that Spain could be gained by hanging all those who resisted, and had actually received the thanks of the Junta of Oviedo, who considered him "a just and honourable man," and published a manifesto saying, "We know this illustrious general detests the conduct of his companions." Accordingly, in the eyes of the Emperor he had been guilty of bungling and slackness, if not of something worse, and he was therefore subjected to the cruel affront of being placed under the orders of Lannes, a junior Marshal. Though much annoyed, as a soldier he could only obey, and the Emperor's decision was to some extent justified, as Lannes won the battle of Tudela with the same troops which Moncey had not dared to lead against the enemy. Three months later the Marshal was once again superseded by Lannes, and this time recalled and sent to France. The ostensible reason for this was, that in the Emperor's opinion he had not pressed the siege of Saragossa. With a desire to avoid bloodshed he had tried to induce the Spaniards to capitulate by entering into negotiations, instead of pushing on his siege batteries. But his real offence was that he had not concealed his dislike of the seizure of Spain.
In 1812 his disgrace was deepened, for he expressed with equal frankness his hatred of the Russian campaign. Though never again employed at the front, the Emperor made use of him in 1809 in Holland, and in 1812 and 1813 he led the Army of Reserve; while in 1814 he was appointed major-general of the National Guard of Paris and made responsible for the defence of the capital. In the last dark days before the city capitulated Moncey, with six thousand citizen soldiers, fought bravely outside the Clichy gate.
On the Restoration the Marshal became a Minister of State and a member of the new Chamber of Peers, and was confirmed in his old appointment of inspector of gendarmerie. But on the return of Napoleon he forgot the wrongs the Emperor had done him; he thought only of the glory Napoleon had once won for France; so he swore allegiance to the imperial government and was created a peer. But, on account of his age, the Emperor gave him no military command. To punish him for his desertion, Louis XVIII., on the second Restoration, appointed him president of the council of war for the trial of Ney. But the Duke of Conegliano wrote to the King boldly refusing to have anything to do with the trial of the hero of Moskowa. So angry was the King at his courageous act that he stripped the veteran of his marshalate and the title of duke, and sent him to prison for three months in the castle of Ham, the same prison which was later to receive the future Napoleon III. But time brought forgiveness. In 1819 the Marshal was restored to his honours, and in 1823 was actually once again employed on active service. It must have brought strange memories of the past to the veteran, who had been thought too old to fight at Waterloo, again to see service in Spain, where he had won his laurels in 1794 and had found naught but disgrace in 1808. So, in his seventieth year, he made his last campaign, not in command of a republican or imperial army, but as a corps commander in the royal army under the Duc d'Angoulême. This time, however, there was but little call on his courage and ability, for the campaign brought no fighting and was merely a military promenade. On the fall of the Bourbon dynasty the Marshal took no active part in affairs, but as Governor of the Invalides in December, 1833, he had the honour to receive the remains of Napoleon when they were translated to France; and on his death nine years later, in 1842, at his special request, he was buried in the "aisle of the brave," close to the tomb of the great Emperor.
XIV
JEAN BAPTISTE JOURDAN, MARSHAL
Among the recruits who enlisted in the Auxerrois regiment in 1778 was the son of the local doctor of Limoges, Jean Baptiste Jourdan. But sixteen years old, having been born on April 29, 1762, Jean Baptiste was attracted to the service by the desire to see America and to aid in the good cause against "perfide Albion." Returning to France in 1784, with all hopes of gaining a commission dashed to the ground by Ségur's ordinance, which excluded from commissioned rank all but those of noble birth, Jourdan took his discharge. The ex-sergeant married a marchande de modes, and set up a small drapery shop, but so humble was this venture that the future Marshal had to carry his stock in a valise on his back, and trudge from fair to fair to peddle his wares. As he went from village to village he retold his adventures and fired his listeners with the account of the glorious freedom of the New World, comparing it with the miserable restrictions which had driven from the army himself and many another fine soldier. When in the autumn of 1791 there came the call for volunteers, Jean Baptiste gladly left his counter and enlisted in the battalion of the Upper Vienne. His experience and ability soon marked him out for command, and he was chosen by his comrades as lieutenant-colonel. The opportunity he had long dreamed of had at last arrived, and he made the most of it. Methodical and industrious, with the lessons of handling and equipping irregulars which he had had in America, he made his battalion a pattern for the others, and was complimented by Lafayette on the admirable condition of his command. Serving under Dumouriez in the invasion of Belgium, he was present at Jemappes, and there proved that, in addition to powers of organisation, he possessed the capacity for leading in the field. Promotion came speedily when the guillotine cleared the way in the higher ranks by removing the incompetent and unfortunate.
By May, 1793, he had gained the grade of general of brigade; two months later he became general of division. His first opportunity of distinguishing himself in high command came six weeks later, when he was entrusted by Houchard with the command of the advance guard in the operations which ended in driving the English from the siege of Dunkirk. So well did he execute his orders at the battle of Handschötten that Carnot selected him to succeed his commander when Houchard was hurried off to the guillotine for failing to reap the full fruits of victory. Jourdan was fortunate in that Carnot, "the organiser of victory," was responsible for the welfare of the French arms, and not the despicable Bouchotte. Carnot had grasped the fact that, if you are to defeat your enemy, you must bring superior moral and physical force against him at the decisive spot. Thanks therefore to him, Jourdan was able to mass superior weight, and at Maubeuge hurl himself on the scattered forces of the enemy, who were covering the siege of Valenciennes. But the victory of Maubeuge nearly cost him his head, as that of Handschötten had done for his predecessor. The Committee of Public Safety, with that incompetent rashness which those who know least of war most readily believe to be military wisdom, ordered him to pursue the enemy and conquer Belgium. It was in vain that he pointed out the strength of the Allies, his want of transport and stores, and the difficulty of undertaking a winter campaign with raw troops: reason was of no avail; his resignation was wrathfully accepted, and he was ordered to Paris to give an account of his actions. Face to face with the Committee, the General renewed his arguments, explained how the old battalions of regulars had dwindled down to some two hundred muskets apiece; how the new levies possessed neither arms nor clothing; how some battalions were armed with pikes, some merely with cudgels; and finished by offering, as a proof of his zeal for the Republic, to go to La Vendée and fight against the rebels. The truth of his statement and his obvious disinterestedness won the day, and, though for the moment he was refused a new command, his life was saved. Moreover, the Committee of Safety profited by his advice, and during the winter the Army of the North was reclothed and equipped. Thanks partly to his suggestion, the battalions of the line were brigaded with the volunteers, and this reorganisation produced the magnificent regiments which Napoleon found to hand when he commenced his career in Italy.
Jourdan's time of inactivity was but short. He had proved his worth in the field, and France needed every capable soldier. Moreover, he had made open testimony of his republicanism in the Jacobin Club, swearing before the Tribune that "the sword which he wore should only be unsheathed to oppose tyrants and defend the rights of the people." So, in March, 1794, he was sent to take command of a new army which Carnot had been raising during the winter. By June this new force of one hundred thousand, known to history as the famous Army of the Sambre and Meuse, had established itself on the Meuse and taken Charleroi. Coburg, the commander-in-chief of the Allies, anxious about his communications, hurried to oppose this successful advance, and on June 25th was fought the battle of Fleurus, which caused the Allies to evacuate France, ended the Reign of Terror, and was the starting-point for the long period of offensive warfare which was at last brought to an end twenty-one years later on the field of Waterloo. At Fleurus Jourdan proved his ability as a tactician, and the victory was due to the moral courage with which he threw his last reserve into the fray. Backed by the Army of the North under Pichegru, he then swept over Belgium, and by the autumn the republican armies had crossed the Rhine.
During the next year Jourdan was engaged in the Rhine valley. But in 1796 he was ordered to advance through the Black Forest on Ratisbon, and there join another French army under Moreau, which was moving down the right bank of the Danube. Against this defective strategy he protested in vain, and, as he had expected, was driven back by the able measures of the Austrian general, the Archduke Charles. After this misfortune he was placed on the unemployed list, and, for some time, had to find an outlet for his energies in the field of politics. Entering the Council of Five Hundred as the representative of the Upper Vienne, he was warmly received by the republican party, and voted against the proposed re-establishment of the Catholic religion, and supported the coup d'état of the 18th Fructidor, by which the royalist councillors were driven into exile. Full of fiery zeal for the Republic, a rhetorical speaker ready to appeal to the gallery, swearing on his sabre the oath of fidelity, he nevertheless had a cool head for business, and it was at his suggestion that in September, 1798, the celebrated law was passed whereby conscription became the sole method of recruiting for the army. Jourdan introduced the law with a flourish of trumpets, assuring the Council that "in agreeing to it they had decreed the power of the Republic to be imperishable," while as a matter of fact they were forging the weapon which was to place their country at the mercy of the first adventurer who had the courage and capacity to make himself dictator. In 1799 foreign danger once again caused him to be entrusted with a military command, and once again he was opposed by his old adversary, the Archduke Charles, and driven back in retreat across the Rhine. Thereon the Directory superseded him by Masséna, and he returned to the Council of Five Hundred, and in September proposed his memorable resolution, "that the country is in danger." "Italy under the yoke, the barbarians of the north at our very barriers, Holland invaded, the fleet treacherously given up, Helvetia ravaged, bands of royalists indulging in every excess, the republicans proscribed under the name of Terrorists and Jacobins." Such were the outlines of his picture. "One more reverse on our frontier," he added, "and the alarm bell of royalty will ring over the whole surface of France." But France had had enough of the Terror, and knew that she could evolve her safety by other means than that of the guillotine. Six weeks later Bonaparte returned from Egypt.
From the advent of the Consulate a blight fell over Jourdan's career. Napoleon could never forgive him for the obstinacy with which he had opposed him on the 18th Brumaire. True, in 1800 he appointed him Governor of Piedmont, and in 1804 created him Marshal. He could not withhold the bâton from the general who had in 1794 driven the enemy from the sacred soil of France, who, more often than any other general, had commanded in chief the armies of the Republic, and who, in spite of numerous defeats, had established a reputation as one of the most brilliant of the generals of republican France. But though he gave him his bâton Napoleon thought but little of his military ability, and called him "a poor general"; for in his eyes success, and success alone, was the test of merit, and he could see nothing in a general who, from his capacity for emerging with credit from defeat, was surnamed "The Anvil." But it was not this which caused Napoleon to snub the gallant Marshal: it was his ardent republicanism and well-known Jacobin sentiments which made him so hateful to the Emperor. But though Napoleon treated him shamefully, and did all he could to cast him into ill repute, the Marshal showed he had a soul above mere personal ambitions, and served France faithfully. At St. Helena the fallen Emperor confessed: "I certainly used that man very ill: he is a true patriot, and that is the answer to many things urged against him." From 1805 to 1815 Jourdan's life was full of mortification. When the war broke out against Austria in 1805 he was in command of the army in Italy, but was at once superseded, under the plea that his health was bad, and that he did not know the theatre of war like Masséna. However cleverly the pill was gilded, the Marshal knew that it was the Emperor's distrust which had lost him the command. But, though Napoleon disliked him, Joseph was his friend, and in 1806 the new King of Naples applied to be allowed to take him with him to Italy as his major-general and chief of the staff. When in 1808 Joseph exchanged the crown of Naples for that of Spain the Marshal accompanied him, and when, in 1809, Napoleon hurriedly left Spain to return to Paris, he appointed him chief of the staff to King Joseph. The major-general's task was a difficult one. He had no executive authority: his duty was simply to give advice to the King, and to transmit such orders as he received; but unfortunately neither Joseph nor he had the power to enforce orders once given, for although certain French corps had been placed at the disposal of the King, and were supposed to obey his orders, their commanders had still to communicate with Berthier and to receive through him the decrees of the Emperor. Hence there was a dual authority, and, to make matters worse, Napoleon did not attempt to veil his contempt of Joseph's military ability. At the same time he cast aspersions on Jourdan's skill, and showed his open dislike to the Marshal by omitting his name from the list of French Marshals in the "Almanack," under the pretence that he had been transferred to the Spanish establishment and was no longer a Frenchman. Consequently the other Marshals paid but little attention to the King or the major-general. At the battle of Talavera Jourdan's advice was utterly disregarded and his orders entirely neglected, and still he had to bear the blame, and endure the whole of Napoleon's wrath. In despair, broken down in health, he applied to be relieved of his duties, and returned home to private life. But in 1812, when the Emperor was summoning his vast army for the invasion of Russia, being short of officers, he sent the Marshal back to his old post in Spain. The task had been a hard one in 1809, it was harder still in 1812. The flower of the French troops were now withdrawn for the Russian campaign. The authority of the King was more feeble than ever, and years of warfare had transformed the English army into a perfect fighting machine. The Spaniards were now past masters in guerilla warfare, while the iniquitous scheme of making war support war had subverted discipline and broken the morale of the French army. With admirable lucidity the Marshal drew up a memoir showing the state of affairs in Spain, and pointing out what was at fault; but memoirs written for Joseph could not alter evils which flowed directly from Napoleon's having broken the golden canon of the "unity of command." With three practically independent commanders-in-chief who refused to acknowledge the controlling authority of the King, who were too jealous of each other to work with mutual accord, disaster was bound to follow. The temporary co-operation of all three drove the English back on Portugal at the end of 1812. But in 1813 the disaster in Russia had caused the Emperor to make further heavy drafts on the force in Spain. Jourdan could only advise a steady retirement towards France. The culminating blow at Vittoria was no fault of his. Struck down by a fever the day before the action, he was unable to give his advice at the critical moment. So Joseph had to fight Vittoria without the assistance of the chief of his staff, and with subordinates who not only despised, but disobeyed him in the presence of the enemy. It was no wonder that defeat easily turned into rout. The whole of the French baggage was captured, and in the flight the Marshal had the misfortune to lose his bâton, which was picked up by the 87th Regiment and sent to England.
After 1813 Jourdan's career came to a close. Napoleon heaped reproaches on him, and refused him further employment, entirely oblivious of the fact that it was he himself who was responsible for the Spanish disaster, and that the Marshal had done all that was possible. On the Emperor's abdication the old Jacobin took the oath of allegiance to King Louis, and remained true to his allegiance during the Hundred Days. Time had chastened and mellowed his fiery republicanism, and seeing that a Republic was impossible, he preferred the chance of constitutional liberty under a monarchy to the tyranny of the Empire. In 1817, as a reward for his services, he was created a peer of France. But though he accepted the Restoration in preference to the Empire, all his sympathies were liberal, and no one had a greater dislike for the reactionary policy of Charles X. In 1830 he gladly accepted the new liberal constitution of Louis Philippe, the old Philip Égalité of the days of Jemappes. The new monarch appointed his former comrade governor of the Hospital of the Invalides, and there, among his old fellow-soldiers of the revolutionary wars, the Marshal breathed his last on November 23, 1833, in his seventy-second year.