Napoleon's Marshals

The Duke was fortunate in not being selected for duty in Spain. His next service was in 1812, when he commanded a corps on the lines of communication in Russia. This was his first independent command, and it proved that, though a good subordinate, a dashing soldier and a capable diplomatist, he did not possess the qualifications of a great general. At Polotsk the day went against the French, but when a wound caused the Marshal to hand over his command to St. Cyr, that able officer easily stemmed the Russian advance and turned defeat into victory. The Marshal, however, made up in zeal what he lacked in ability; a few weeks later, hearing that St. Cyr was wounded, he hastened back to the front. It was owing to his gallant attack on the Russians that the Emperor was able to bridge the Beresina. But, while driving off the enemy who were attempting to stem the crossing, he was again wounded. Thanks to the devotion of his staff, he was safely escorted back to France and escaped the last horrors of the retreat. In 1813 the Duke fought at Bautzen, and after the armistice of Dresden was despatched to drive back the mixed force of Swedes and Prussians who were threatening the French left under Bernadotte. The action of Grosbeeren proved once again that the Duke of Reggio had no talent for independent command, and the Emperor superseded him by Marshal Ney, whom he loyally served. Emerging unscathed from the slaughter at Leipzig, he fought with his accustomed fury all through the campaign of 1814 without adding to his reputation as a soldier. On Napoleon's abdication the Duke swore allegiance to the Bourbons, who received him with warmth, as in the early years of the revolutionary wars he had shown great humanity to the captured émigrés. Louis XVIII. nominated him colonel-general of the royal corps of grenadiers, and gave him command of the third military division, with headquarters at Metz. It was there that the Marshal first heard of the Emperor's return from Elba. He at once set out to try and intercept his advance on Paris, but his troops refused to act against their former leader. Thereon Oudinot threw up his command and returned to Jeand Heurs. On his arrival at Paris, the Emperor told his Minister of War, Davout, to summon the Duke of Reggio to court, thinking that, like many another, he would forget his oath to the Bourbons. But the Duke was of different stuff; he had sworn allegiance to Louis XVIII. at Napoleon's command, but he could not break his oath. On his arrival the Emperor greeted him with the question, "Well, Duke of Reggio, what have the Bourbons done for you more than I have done, that you attempted to intercept my return?" The Marshal replied that he had plighted his oath. The Emperor told him to break it and take service with him, recalling past favours. The Marshal was much affected, but firm. "I will serve nobody since I cannot serve you," he said, "but trust me enough not to spy on me with your police: save me that degradation. I could not endure it." So the interview ended, and the Marshal returned to Jeand Heurs.

On the second Restoration Oudinot became a great favourite of the Bourbons. The King made him a peer of France, presented him with the order of St. Louis, created him one of the four major-generals of the Royal Guard and commandant-in-chief of the National Guard. When the heir to the throne, the Duke of Berri, married a Neapolitan princess, the second wife of the Marshal became her chief lady, and the Oudinots, husband and wife, served the royal family with the greatest fidelity. The Marshal once again saw service when, in 1823, he commanded the first corps of the army which invaded Spain. It was through no fault of his that Charles X. lost his throne, for he was patriotic enough to tell him how unfortunate was the disbanding of the National Guard and his other ill-advised actions.

After the fall of the Bourbon dynasty in 1830, the Duke of Reggio never again entered public life, although in 1839 Louis Philippe created him Grand Chancellor of the Legion of Honour, and in 1842 governor of the Invalides. It was in this honoured position that the Duke breathed his last on September 13, 1847, in his eighty-first year.

The Duke of Reggio was fortunate in his career; he never saw service in Spain, and he seldom held independent command, for which his fiery temper and impetuosity unfitted him. It was his gallantry and intrepidity which won for him his bâton. In a subordinate position he could usually control himself enough to obey orders, in a subordinate position also he could do good staff work, and his quick impetuous brain teemed with ideas which were useful to his superiors. But by himself he was lost. Napoleon well knew his shortcomings. In 1805 the Emperor was holding a review; Oudinot's horse was restive and refused to march past, whereon he drew his sword and stabbed it in the neck. That evening at dinner the Emperor asked, "Is that the way you manage your horse?" "Sire," replied Oudinot, "when I cannot get obedience that is my method." But it was seldom that his impetuosity resulted in cruelty, and the wounded at Friedland and in many another action had cause to bless him. The hero of Friedland, the saviour of the émigrés, and the administrator of Neuchâtel was loved not only in the French army, but also among the enemy. At Erfurt there was a poor Saxon gardener who delighted to cultivate a rose which he called Oudinot; when asked the reason he replied, "The general has made me love the war which has ruined me." The Duke of Reggio turned his face steadily against plundering, and would reprimand any officer who recklessly rode over a field of wheat.

Old age did not change his character. Happy in his family relations, adored by his young wife, he was universally beloved, and it was with great grief that, on September 13, 1847, Royalist, Orleanist, Imperialist, and Republican learned that he whom the soldiers called "The Marshal of the Thirty-Four Wounds" had passed away.

XXIV

DOMINIQUE CATHERINE DE PÉRIGNON, MARSHAL

Among the few men of moderate opinion who were chosen in 1791 to represent their country in the Legislative Assembly was Dominique Catherine de Pérignon. The scion of a good family of Grenade, in the Upper Garonne, neither an ultra-royalist nor ultra-republican, he was a man of action rather than a talker. One year spent among the self-seekers of Paris was sufficient to prove to him that his rôle did not lie among the twisting paths of partisan statesmanship, and gladly, in 1792, he heard the summons to arms and left the forum for the camp. Now thirty-eight years old, having been born on May 31, 1754, this was not his first experience of soldiering; he had held a commission for some years in the old royal army and had served on the staff. He was, for this reason, at once elected lieutenant-colonel of the volunteer legion of the Pyrenees. His bravery and his former military training soon caused him to rise among the mass of ignorant and untrained volunteers who formed the Army of the Pyrenees. Luckily for France, she was opposed on her western frontier by an army which knew as little of war as her own, led by officers of equal ignorance, without the stimulus of burning enthusiasm and the dread power of the guillotine; had it been otherwise, Perpignan and the fortresses covering Provence would soon have been in the hands of the enemy. With all Europe threatening the eastern frontier and civil war at home, the Government could spare but few troops, and these the least trained, for the defence of the west. Accordingly, in the opening fights of the campaign ill-conceived plans and panics too frequently caused the defeat of the French, and it was often only the personal example of individuals which saved the army from absolute annihilation. From the first engagement Pérignon made his mark by his coolness and courage. The French attack on the Spanish position at Serre had been brought to a halt by the fierce fire of the enemy, and, as the line wavered, a timely charge of the Spanish horse threw it into confusion. Pérignon, commanding the first line, rushed up and seized the musket and cartridges of a wounded soldier, and collecting a few undaunted privates, quietly opened fire on the Spanish cavalry, and by his example shamed the runaways into returning to the attack. For this he was created general of brigade on July 28, 1793. By September the enemy had opened their trenches round Perpignan, and Pérignon was entrusted with a night sortie. On approaching the Spanish line a fusillade of musketry swept down five hundred of his little force, and his men at once halted and opened fire; but Pérignon believed in the bayonet. With stinging reproaches he again got his men to advance, and sweeping over the enemy's entrenchments, he drove them in rout and captured their camp. He thus won his promotion as lieutenant-general.

In November of 1794 Dugommier, the French commander-in-chief, fell mortally wounded at the battle of Montagne-Noire, and Pérignon was at once appointed his successor. Though no great strategist or tactician, he was an able leader of men, and had the faculty of enforcing obedience to his orders. Trusting entirely to the bayonet, he forced the fortified lines of Escola, making his troops advance and charge over the entrenchments with shouldered arms, without firing a shot. The fortresses of Figueras and Rosas alone barred the advance of the French into Catalonia. So demoralised were the enemy that Figueras, with all its immense stores, nine thousand troops and two hundred pieces of artillery, capitulated to a mere summons. But Rosas stood firm, covered on the land side by the fort of Le Bouton on the top of a precipice, and on the sea side swept by the guns of the Spanish squadron anchored in the roads. The fort of Le Bouton was called "l'imprenable." But Pérignon was not frightened by names; although greatly hampered by the civil Commissioners with the army, and held by them as "suspect," he determined to capture Le Bouton and Rosas. Le Bouton was dominated by a perpendicular rock two thousand feet high. It was certain that if batteries could be established on this precipice Le Bouton could be taken. But the artillerymen believed that it was impossible to construct a road to haul guns up to this height. "Very well, then, it is the impossible that I am going to do," replied the obstinate little general, and after immense toil a zigzag road was constructed and the guns hauled by hand to the summit; after a severe bombardment Le Bouton was carried by an assault. But still Rosas held out; the weather was very severe and the snow came above the soldiers' thighs, and the engineers declared that it was impossible to construct siege works unless a certain outlying redoubt was first taken. "Very well," said the general; "make your preparations. To-morrow I will take it at the head of my grenadiers." So at five o'clock the next morning, February 1, 1795, the grenadiers, with their general at their head, marched out of camp and, under a murderous fire, by eight o'clock captured the outlying redoubt, so after a siege of sixty-one days Rosas was captured. It was the personality of their general which had taught the French soldiers to surmount all difficulties. Absolutely fearless himself, full of grim determination, he taught his soldiers how to acquire these virtues by example, not by precept: ever exposing himself to danger, showing absolute callousness, until his men were shamed into following his example. On one occasion during the siege a shell fell at his feet with the match still fizzling; he was at the moment directing some troops who were exposed to the fire. The men called out to him to get out of the way of the explosion, and throw himself flat, but he paid no attention to the bomb and quietly went on giving his orders, for he knew how his example would steady his troops; meanwhile someone dashed up and extinguished the match before the bomb could explode.

The peace of Basle prevented Pérignon from gaining any further success in Spain, and the Directors, out of compliment, appointed him ambassador to the court of Madrid, where his good sense and moderation did much to strengthen the peace between the two countries. In 1799 he was sent to command a division of the Army of Italy, and commanded the left wing at the battle of Novi. While attempting to cover the rout he was ridden over by the enemy's horse, and taken prisoner with eight honourable sabre wounds on his arms and chest. When the Russian surgeon was going to attend to his wounds, thinking more of others than of himself, he said to him, "Do not worry about me; look first after those brave men there, who are in a worse plight than I." After a few months his exchange was effected and he returned to France, severely shaken in health and not fit for further active service, to find Bonaparte First Consul. Though not one of his own followers, Bonaparte recognised the services he had rendered to his country, and arranged for his entry into the Senate, and in 1802 appointed him Commissioner Extraordinary to arrange the negotiation with Spain, a delicate compliment to Pérignon, who had made his name on Spanish soil. Further to recall his Spanish victories, in 1804 the Emperor created him honorary Marshal, not on the active list, and later gave him the title of Count. But though Napoleon did not think that the Marshal was physically fit to command again in the field, he entrusted him in 1801 with the government of Parma and Piacenza, and in 1808 sent him to Naples to command the French troops stationed in the kingdom of his brother-in-law, Murat. The task was a difficult one, for Murat was no easy person to get on with, and Southern Italy, from the days of Hannibal, has been a hard place in which to maintain military virtues. But the Marshal, with his sound commonsense, gave satisfaction both to Napoleon and to King Joachim, and at the same time kept a tight hand over his troops; when, however, in 1814, Murat deserted the Emperor, the old Marshal withdrew in sorrow to France, to find Paris in the hands of the enemy. Like the other Marshals he accepted the Restoration and was created a peer of France. Being himself of noble birth, and an ex-officer of the old royal army, Louis XVIII. appointed him to investigate the claims, and verify the services of the officers of the old army who had returned to France at the Restoration. When, in 1815, Napoleon returned from Elba, the Marshal, who was at his country house near Toulouse, made every effort to organise resistance against him in the Midi. During the Hundred Days he remained quietly at his home, and on the second Restoration was rewarded with the command of the first military division, and created Marquis and Commander of the Order of St. Louis. But he did not long enjoy his new honours, for he died in Paris on December 25, 1818, aged sixty-four.

XXV

JEAN MATHIEU PHILIBERT SERURIER, MARSHAL

After thirty-four years' service to be still a captain, with no probable chance of promotion: such was the lot of Serurier when the Revolution broke out in 1789. Born on December 8, 1742, he had received his first commission in the militia at the age of thirteen, and from there had been transferred to the line. His war service was not inconsiderable, including three campaigns in Hanover, one in Portugal, and one in Italy; he had been wounded as far back as the action of Wartburg in 1760, but there was no court influence to bring him his majority. With the Revolution, however, fortune quickly changed. The years of steady attention to duty, of patient devotion to, and loving care of his men, brought their reward, and when promotion became the gift of the soldiers and not of the courtiers, the stern old disciplinarian found himself at the head of his regiment. In the hand-to-hand struggles which distinguished the early campaigns in the Alps, he soon acquired a reputation for bravery and the clever handling of his men. By June, 1795, he had risen to be general of division, in which capacity he distinguished himself on July 7th by the way he led his division at the fight for the Col de Tenda, and for the modesty with which he attributed all his success to his soldiers. A month later he saved the whole army at the Col de Pierre Étroite. When under the cover of driving rain and mist the enemy surprised the French line of picquets at midnight and had all but seized the position, it was Serurier who, collecting three hundred and fifty men, hurled himself against the enemy's column of fifteen hundred bayonets, and by sheer hand-to-hand fighting held them in check for six hours, and at last repulsed them with the loss of a considerable number of prisoners.

With the halo of this action still surrounding him, in March, 1796, he first came into direct connection with Bonaparte. The new commander-in-chief quickly took measure of his tall, stern subordinate. While recognising to the full his bravery, the excellent discipline he knew how to maintain, and the high regard in which he was held by his division, he saw that the iron of years of subordination had entered into the old soldier's soul, and that, while he could be relied on to obey orders implicitly, he never could be trusted with an independent command. Still, what Bonaparte most required from his subordinates was immediate obedience and speedy performance of orders, and consequently Serurier played no insignificant part in the glorious campaign of 1796. At Mondovi he showed his stubbornness, when the Sardinian general turned at bay, and, as Bonaparte wrote to the Directory, the victory was due entirely to Serurier. When the Austrians were driven into Mantua, Bonaparte entrusted him with the siege. The Austrian forces in the fortress numbered some fourteen thousand; Serurier had but ten thousand to carry on the siege, although the usual estimate is that a besieging force should be three times as strong as the besieged; but by his clever use of the marshes and bridges he was able to hold the enemy and open his trenches and siege batteries. It was no fault of his that, on the advance of Würmser, he had to abandon his guns and hasten to Castiglione, for Bonaparte had given him no warning of the sudden advance of the Austrian relieving force. After Castiglione he returned to his task round Mantua and gallantly repulsed all sorties. When the end came he had the honour of superintending the surrender, and of receiving the parole from the gallant old Marshal Würmser and the Austrian officers. In the advance on Vienna his division distinguished itself in the terrible march to Asola; but, as Bonaparte said, "the wind and the rain were always the crown of victory for the Army of Italy." At Gradisca Serurier captured two thousand five hundred prisoners, eight stands of colours, and ten pieces of artillery, and again crowned himself with glory at the Col de Tarvis. In June Bonaparte sent the old warrior to Paris to present twenty-two captured stands to the Directory, and in his despatches, after enumerating his triumphs from Mondovi to Gradisca, he finished by saying, "General Serurier is extremely severe on himself, and at times on others. A stern enforcer of discipline, order, and the most necessary virtues for the maintenance of society, he disdains intrigues and intriguers"; he then proceeded to demand for him the command of the troops of the Cisalpine Republic. But the Directors had other designs, and sent back the general to command the captured province of Venice.

In 1799, when the Austrians and Russians invaded Northern Italy, Serurier commanded a division of the army of occupation. During the operations which ended in the enemy forcing the Adda, his division got isolated from the main body. The old soldier, whose boast was that he never turned his back on an enemy, forgetful of strategy, and thinking only of honour, instead of attempting to escape and rejoin the rest of the army, took possession of an extremely strong position at Verderio, and soon found himself surrounded; after a gallant fight against an enemy three times his number, he was compelled to surrender with seven thousand men. The celebrated Suvaroff, the Russian commander, treated him with great kindness and invited him to dine. After his exchange on parole had been arranged, the Russian general asked him where he was going. "To Paris." "So much the better," replied Suvaroff; "I shall count on seeing you there soon." "I have myself always hoped to see you there," replied Serurier with considerable wit and dignity.

The general was still a prisoner on parole when Bonaparte returned from Egypt, and at once gladly placed himself at his disposal, and aided him during the coup d'état of Brumaire. It was because of this service, and of the strong affection which the old warrior bore him, that Bonaparte piled honours upon him, for Serurier had undoubtedly done less than anybody, save perhaps Bessières, to deserve his bâton. Still, Napoleon knew his devotion, his blind obedience to orders, and his absolute integrity. In December, 1799, he called him to the Senate. In April, 1804, he made him governor of the Invalides, and a month later presented him with his Marshal's bâton, and created him Grand Eagle of the Legion of Honour and Grand Cross of the Iron Crown. But he never employed him in the field, though once for a short time during the Walcheren Expedition he placed him in command of the National Guard of Paris.

The old Marshal found a congenial occupation in looking after the veterans at the Invalides, while, as Vice-President of the Senate, he faithfully served the interests of his beloved Emperor. When in 1814 he heard that Paris was going to surrender, rather than that the trophies of his master's glory should fall into the hands of the enemy, on the night of March 30th he collected the eighteen hundred captured standards which adorned Nôtre Dame, and the military trophies from the chapel of the Invalides, and burned them, and he actually hurled into the fire the sword of the Great Frederick which had been seized in 1806 at Potsdam. Yet in spite of his devotion to the Emperor, a few days later he took part in the proceedings in the Senate, and voted for his deposition. Under the Restoration he was made a peer of France, but on Napoleon's return he hastened to greet him. But the Emperor could not forgive his desertion, and, thinking he would not benefit by his services, he refused them. When the Bourbons returned a second time the Marshal was stripped of his titles and, what caused him more grief, of his command of the Invalides. After parting from the veterans, whose welfare he had so long superintended, the old warrior withdrew into private life, and died at Paris on December 21, 1819, at the age of seventy-seven.

XXVI

PRINCE JOSEPH PONIATOWSKI, MARSHAL

Joseph Poniatowski, the nephew of King Stanislaus (the erstwhile lover of Catherine the Second of Russia), was born in 1762, before his uncle had been raised to the kingly rank. Like all Poles of noble birth, war and war alone could offer him a profession he was able or cared to pursue, and accordingly at an early age he served his apprenticeship in arms under the banner of Austria. Returning to his native country in 1789 with the experience of several campaigns against the Turks, he was entrusted by his uncle with the organisation of the Polish army. For the cast-off lover of the great Catherine was about to make one last effort to save his country from the greedy hands of Prussia, Russia and Austria. The great kingdom of Poland had fallen on evil days; she had no fortresses, no navy, no roads, no arsenals, no revenue, and no real standing army; while the King was elected by a Diet of nobles who thought more of foreign gold than of patriotism; the single vote of one member of this Diet could bring all business to a standstill. King Stanislaus' reforms were wise, but they came too late. The kingship was to become hereditary, the "liberum veto," whereby business was paralysed was abolished, and a standing army was to be raised. But it suited none of her great neighbours to see Poland organising herself into a modern State, and before Prince Joseph had had time to raise and thoroughly drill his new model army, Prussia and Russia determined once and for all to wipe the kingdom off the map of Europe. In 1792 Prince Joseph found himself at the head of his new levies opposed by the trained troops of those countries. To add to his difficulties, the orders he received from his uncle were contradictory and irresolute, for King Stanislaus, though patriot at heart, had not the moral courage for so great an emergency. The new Polish troops gained some minor successes, but before the immense array of enemies the King's heart failed him, and he signed the Convention of Targowitz, which foreshadowed the dismemberment of his country. Prince Joseph, like many another of his brave comrades, unable to stomach such cowardice, threw up his commission and withdrew into exile. In 1794 Poland suddenly flew to arms at the command of the great-hearted Kosciuszko, and Prince Joseph, keen soldier and patriot, gladly placed himself under the orders of his former subordinate, and covered himself with glory at the siege of Warsaw. Again, however, the Polish resistance was broken down by force of numbers, and the Prince, turning a deaf ear to the blandishments of Emperor and Czarina alike, withdrew from public life and settled down to manage his estates near Warsaw. For eleven long years Poland lay dismembered, but the national spirit still smouldered, and broke into clear flame when, in 1806, the victorious French drove the battered remains of the Prussian armies across the Vistula. But Poland was a mere pawn in the game, to be used as a means of threatening or conciliating Russia, and in spite of the high hopes of the Poles the treaty of Tilsit, instead of reviving the ancient kingdom, merely established a Grand Duchy of Warsaw. The Emperor left Davout to watch over the weaning of the State, and appointed Prince Joseph to organise the national forces which were to supplement the French army of occupation. No better choice could have been made, for the Prince had the necessary tact to manage the imperious Davout, while his chivalrous nature, his well-known patriotism and his experience and ability, enabled him once more to accustom the Polish troops to the bit of discipline. When, in 1809, the great European conflagration forced Napoleon to leave the Grand Duchy to its fate, Prince Joseph was able to keep the Austrians in check, and actually to penetrate into Galicia before the battle of Wagram brought the war to an end.