Aware of the importance and difficulty of the move it had decided upon,
the French Government had looked for a trained soldier, a man of
decision and of sense, one who would understand Washington and be
understood by him, would keep in hand the enthusiasts under his orders,
and would avoid ill-prepared, risky ventures. The time of the d'Estaings
was gone; definitive results were to be sought. The government
considered it could do no better than to select Rochambeau. It could,
indeed, do no better.
The future marshal of France had been first destined to priesthood for
no other reason than that he was a second son, and he was about to
receive the tonsure when his elder brother died, and Bishop de Crussol,
who had been supervising Donatien's ecclesiastical studies, came one day
to him and said: "You must forget all I have told you up to now; you
have become the eldest of your family and you must now serve your
country with as much zeal as you would have served God in the
ecclesiastical state."
Rochambeau did so. He was appointed an officer and served on his first
campaign in Germany at sixteen, fought under Marshal de Saxe, was a
colonel at twenty-two (Washington was to become one also at twenty-two),
received at Laufeldt his two first wounds, of which he nearly died. At
the head of the famous Auvergne regiment, "Auvergne sans tache"
(Auvergne the spotless), as it was called, he took part in the chief
battles of the Seven Years' War, notably in the victory of Klostercamp,
where spotless Auvergne had 58 officers and 800 soldiers killed or
wounded, the battle made memorable by the episode of the Chevalier
d'Assas, who went to his heroic death in the fulfilment of an order
given by Rochambeau. The latter was again severely wounded, but, leaning
on two soldiers, he could remain at his post till the day was won.
On the opposite side of the same battle-fields were fighting many
destined, like Rochambeau himself, to take part in the American war; it
was like a preliminary rehearsal of the drama that was to be. At the
second battle of Minden, in 1759, where the father of Lafayette was
killed, Rochambeau covered the retreat, while in the English ranks Lord
Cornwallis was learning his trade, as was too, but less brilliantly,
Lord George Germain, the future colonial secretary of the Yorktown
period. At Johannisberg, in the same war, Clinton, future
commander-in-chief at New York, was wounded, while here and there in
the French army such officers distinguished themselves as Bougainville,
back from Ticonderoga, and not yet a sailor, Chastellux, already a
colonel, no longer a secretary of embassy, not yet an Academician, and
my predecessor, La Luzerne, an officer of cavalry, not yet a diplomat,
who was to be the second minister ever accredited to America, where his
name is not forgotten.
When still very young Rochambeau had contracted one of those marriages
so numerous in the eighteenth, as in every other century, of which
nothing is said in the memoirs and letters of the period, because they
were what they should be, happy ones. Every right-minded and
right-hearted man will find less pleasure in the sauciest anecdote told
by Lauzun than in the simple and brief lines written in his old age by
Rochambeau: "My good star gave me such a wife as I could desire; she has
been for me a cause of constant happiness throughout life, and I hope,
on my side, to have made her happy by the tenderest amity, which has
never varied an instant during nearly sixty years." The issue of that
union, Viscount Rochambeau, from his youth the companion in arms of his
father, an officer at fourteen, accompanied him to the States, and was,
after a career of devotion to his country, to die a general at Leipzig,
in the "Battle of Nations."
Informed at Versailles of the task he would have to perform, the exact
nature of which was kept a secret from the troops themselves now
gathered at Brest, Rochambeau hastened to forget his "rhumatisme
inflammatoire" and set to work to get everything in readiness,
collecting information, talking with those who knew America, and noting
down in his green-garbed registers, which were to accompany him in his
campaign, the chief data thus secured. He also addressed to himself, as
a reminder, a number of useful recommendations such as these: "To take
with us a quantity of flints, ... much flour and biscuit; have bricks as
ballast for the ships, to be used for ovens; to try to bring with us all
we want and not to have to ask from the Americans who are themselves in
want ... to have a copy of the Atlas brought from Philadelphia by Mr. de
Lafayette ... to have a portable printing-press, like that of Mr.
d'Estaing, handy for proclamations ... siege artillery is
indispensable." Some of the notes are of grave import and were not lost
sight of throughout the campaign: "Nothing without naval supremacy."
To those intrusted with the care of loading the vessels he recommends
that all articles of the same kind be not placed on the same ship, "so
that in case of mishap to any ship the whole supply of any kind of
provisions be not totally lost."
As to the pay for himself and his officers, he writes to the minister
that he leaves that to him: "Neither I nor mine desire anything
extravagant; we should like to be able to go to this war at our own
expense." But the government did not want him to be hampered by any lack
of funds, and allotted him the then considerable sum of twelve thousand
francs a month, and four thousand a month the generals under him.
At Brest, where he now repaired, Rochambeau found that the ships were
not so numerous as expected, so that only the first division of his army
could embark under Admiral Chevalier de Ternay: a sad blow for the
commander-in-chief. He prescribed that care be at least taken to select
for the passage the most robust men, and, in order to save space, that
all horses be left behind, himself giving the example. "I have,"
Rochambeau writes to Prince de Montbarey, the minister of war, "to part
company with two battle-horses that I can never replace. I do so with
the greatest sorrow, but I do not want to have to reproach myself with
their having taken up the room of twenty men who could have embarked in
their stead." Officers, soldiers, ammunition, artillery, spare clothing
for the troops, and even the printing-press go on board at last. Men and
things are close-packed, but end by shaking down into place; all will go
well, Rochambeau writes to the minister, "without any overcrowding of
the troops; the rule for long journeys having been observed, namely one
soldier for every two tons burden."
When all were there, however, forming a total of 5,000 men, the maximum
was so truly reached that a number of young men, some belonging to the
best-known French families, who were arriving at Brest from day to day,
in the hope of being added to the expedition, had to be sent back. The
fleet was already on the high seas when a cutter brought the
government's last instructions to Rochambeau. On the boat were two
brothers called Berthier, who besought to be allowed to volunteer. "They
have joined us yesterday," the general writes to the minister, "and have
handed us your letters.... They were dressed in linen vests and
breeches, asking to be admitted as mere sailors." But there was really
no place to put them. "Those poor young men are interesting and in
despair." They had, nevertheless, to be sent back, but managed to join
the army later, and so it was that Alexander Berthier began in the
Yorktown campaign a military career which he was to end as marshal of
France, and Prince of Wagram and Neufchâtel.
The departure, which it was necessary to hasten while the English were
not yet ready, was beset with difficulties. Tempests, contrary winds and
other mishaps had caused vexatious delay; the _Comtesse de Noailles_
and the _Conquérant_ had come into collision and had had to be repaired.
"Luckily," wrote Rochambeau to Montbarey, with his usual good humor, "it
rains also on Portsmouth." At last, on the 2d of May, 1780, the fleet of
seven ships of the line and two frigates conveying thirty-six
transports, weighed anchor for good. "We shall have the start of
Graves," the general wrote again, "for he will have to use the same wind
to leave Portsmouth," and he added, with a touch of emotion at this
solemn moment: "I recommend this expedition to the friendship of my dear
old comrade, and to his zeal for the good of the state."
At sea now for a long voyage, two or three months, perhaps, with the
prospect of calms, of storms, of untoward encounters, of scurvy for the
troops. On board the big _Duc de Bourgogne_, of eighty guns, with
Admiral de Ternay, Rochambeau adds now and then paragraphs to a long
report which is a kind of journal, assuring the minister, after the
first fortnight, that all is well on board: "We have no men sick other
than those which the sea makes so, among whom the Marquis de Laval and
my son play the most conspicuous part." He prepares his general
instructions to the troops.
On board the smaller craft life was harder and numerous unflattering
descriptions have come down to us in the journals kept by so many
officers of the army, especially in that of the aforementioned young
captain, Louis Baron de Closen, later one of the aides of Rochambeau.
He confesses, but with no undue sentimentalism, that he was saddened at
first to some extent at the prospect of an absence that might be a long
one, particularly when thinking "of a charming young fiancée, full of
wit and grace.... My profession, however, does not allow me to yield too
much to sensibility; so I am now perfectly resigned." He was assigned to
the _Comtesse de Noailles_, of three hundred tons (the _Ecureuil_, that
kept her company, was of only one hundred and eighty). Each officer had
received fifty francs for extra purchases; they found it was little, but
when they had made their purchases they found that it had been much, so
great was the difficulty in stowing their possessions on the ship. At
last, "after much trouble and many words--a few crowns here and
there--each of us succeeded in squeezing himself and his belongings in
those so-detested _sabots_."[17] Closen, for his part, had provisioned
himself with "sugar, lemons, and syrups in quantity."
The crew consisted of forty-five men, "half of them Bretons, half
Provençals," speaking their own dialect, "and who, little accustomed to
the language used by their naval officers when giving their orders,"
were apt to misunderstand them, hence the bad manoeuvring which sent the
_Comtesse de Noailles_ right across the _Conquérant_. A sad case; would
they be left behind, and miss taking part in the expedition? By great
luck "there were but the bowsprit, the spritsails, and the figure of the
charming countess which were broken to pieces." Repairs are begun with
all speed. Mr. de Deux-Ponts promises fifteen louis to the workmen if
the ship is ready the next day at noon. "One more reassuring
circumstance was that Mr. de Kersabiec, a very expert naval officer, was
intrusted with the care of looking after the workmen." He never left
them, and "encouraged them by extra distributions. I was intimate with
all the family, having spent the winter at Saint-Pol-de-Léon; the
souvenir of which still gives me pleasure." The next day all was right
once more: "After eleven, the amiable countess was taken again--with no
head, it is true, like so many other countesses--beyond the harbor
chain." It was possible to start with the rest of the fleet: the high
fortifications overlooking the harbor, the villages along the coast, so
many sails curved by a wind "joli-frais," the clear sky, "all united to
form the most beautiful picture at the time of our start.... So many
vessels under way offered a truly imposing sight."
Every-day life now begins on the small craft; it is hard at first to
get accustomed, so tight-packed is the ship, but one gets inured to it,
in spite of the "buzzing of so numerous a company," of the lack of
breathing-space, and of what people breathe being made unpleasant by all
sorts of "exhalations" from the ship, the masses of humanity on board,
"and a few dogs." Closen has the good luck not to be inconvenienced by
the sea, settles in his corner, and from that moment till the end takes
pleasure in watching life around him. He learns how to make nautical
observations, describes his companions in his journal, and especially
the captain, a typical old tar who has an equal faith in the efficacy of
hymns and of oaths. "Prayer is said twice a day on the deck, which does
not prevent there being much irreligion among seamen. I have often heard
our captain swear and curse and freely use the worst sailors' language,
while he was praying and chanting:
Je mets ma confiance,
Vierge, en votre secours,
Et quand ma dernière heure
Viendra, guidez mon sort;
Obtenez que je meure
De la plus sainte mort."
Various incidents break the monotony of the journey. On the 18th of June
the _Surveillante_ captures an English corsair, which is a joy, but
they learn from her the fall of Charleston and the surrender of Lincoln,
which gives food for thought. Nothing better shows the difference
between old-time and present-time navigation than the small fact that
while on the way they indulge in fishing. On board the _Comtesse de
Noailles_ they capture flying-fishes, which are "very tender and
delicious to eat, fried in fresh butter, like gudgeons."
An occasion offers to open fight, with the advantage of numerical
superiority, on six English vessels; some shots are exchanged, but with
great wisdom, and, in spite of the grumblings of all his people, Ternay
refuses to really engage them, and continues his voyage. "He had his
convoy too much at heart," says Closen, "and he knew too well the
importance of our expedition, his positive orders being that he must
make our army arrive _as quickly as possible_, for him not to set aside
all the entreaties of the young naval officers who, I was told, were
very outspoken on that score, as well as most of the land officers, who
know nothing of naval matters."
The event fully justified Ternay, for Graves, whose mission it had been
to intercept him and his slow and heavy convoy, missed his opportunity
by twenty-four hours only, reaching New York, where he joined forces
with Arbuthnot just as our own ships were safe at Newport. The
slightest delay on Ternay's part might have been fatal.
The more so since, when nearing the coast our fleet had fallen into
fogs. "Nothing so sad and dangerous at sea as fogs," Closen
sententiously writes; "besides the difficulty of avoiding collisions in
so numerous a fleet, each vessel, in order to shun them, tries to gain
space; thus one may chance to get too far from the centre. The standing
orders for our convoy were, in view of avoiding those inconveniences, to
beat the drums every quarter of an hour or fire petards. The men-of-war
fired their guns or sent rockets. The speed-limit was three knots during
the fog, so that each vessel might, as far as possible, continue keeping
company with its neighbor." In spite of all which the _Ile de France_
was lost, and there was great anxiety; she was not seen again during the
rest of the journey, but she appeared later, quite safe, at Boston.
The landing orders of Rochambeau, making known now to all concerned the
intentions of the government, were clear and peremptory. Drawn up by him
on board the _Duc de Bourgogne_, he had caused copies to be carried to
the chiefs of the several corps on board the other ships:
"The troops which his Majesty is sending to America are auxiliary to
those of the United States, his allies, and placed under the orders of
General Washington, to whom the honors of a marshal of France will be
rendered. The same with the President of Congress," which avoided the
possibility of any trouble as to precedence, no one in the French army
having such a rank. "In case of an equality of rank and duration of
service, the American officer will take command.... The troops of the
King will yield the right side to the allies; French troops will add
black to their cockades, black being the color of the United States,"
and some such hats, with black and white cockades, are still preserved
at Fraunces' Tavern,[18] New York. "The intention of his Majesty," the
general continues, "is that there be perfect concert and harmony between
the generals and officers of the two nations. The severest discipline
will be observed.... It is forbidden to take a bit of wood, a sheaf of
straw, any kind of vegetables, except amicably and in paying.... All
faults of unruliness, disobedience, insubordination, ill-will, brutal
and sonorous drunkenness ... will be punished, according to ordinances
with strokes of the flat of the sword." Even "light faults of lack of
cleanliness or attention" will be punished. "To make the punishment the
harder for the French soldier, he will be barred from military service
during his detention."
The army, but not the fleet, had been placed under the orders of
Washington. Ternay's instructions specified, however, that while his
squadron had no other commander than himself, it was expected that he
would "proffer all assistance that might facilitate the operations of
the United States," and that he would allow the use of our ships "on
every occasion when their help might be requested." Good-will was
obviously the leading sentiment, and the desire of all was to give as
little trouble and bring as much useful help as possible.