In the midst of all this gaiety, that is to say on the 12th of February,
1706, one of our generals, of whom I have often spoken, I mean M. de
Vendome, arrived at Marly. He had not quitted Italy since succeeding to
Marechal de Villeroy, after the affair of Cremona. His battles, such as
they were, the places he had taken, the authority he had assumed, the
reputation he had usurped, his incomprehensible successes with the King,
the certainty of the support he leaned on,--all this inspired him with
the desire to come and enjoy at Court a situation so brilliant, and which
so far surpassed what he had a right to expect. But before speaking of
the reception which was given him, and of the incredible ascendancy he
took, let me paint him from the life a little more completely than I have
yet done.
Vendome was of ordinary height, rather stout, but vigorous and active:
with a very noble countenance and lofty mien. There was much natural
grace in his carriage and words; he had a good deal of innate wit, which
he had not cultivated, and spoke easily, supported by a natural boldness,
which afterwards turned to the wildest audacity; he knew the world and
the Court; was above all things an admirable courtier; was polite when
necessary, but insolent when he dared--familiar with common people--in
reality, full of the most ravenous pride. As his rank rose and his
favour increased, his obstinacy, and pig-headedness increased too, so
that at last he would listen to no advice whatever, and was inaccessible
to all, except a small number of familiars and valets. No one better
than he knew the subserviency of the French character, or took more
advantage of it. Little by little he accustomed his subalterns, and then
from one to the other all his army, to call him nothing but
"Monseigneur," and "Your Highness." In time the gangrene spread, and
even lieutenant-generals and the most distinguished people did not dare
to address him in any other manner.
The most wonderful thing to whoever knew the King--so gallant to the
ladies during a long part of his life, so devout the other, and often
importunate to make others do as he did--was that the said King had
always a singular horror of the inhabitants of the Cities of the Plain;
and yet M. de Vendome, though most odiously stained with that vice--so
publicly that he treated it as an ordinary gallantry--never found his
favour diminished on that account. The Court, Anet, the army, knew of
these abominations. Valets and subaltern officers soon found the way to
promotion. I have already mentioned how publicly he placed himself in
the doctor's hands, and how basely the Court acted, imitating the King,
who would never have pardoned a legitimate prince what he indulged so
strangely in Vendome.
The idleness of M. de Vendome was equally matter of notoriety. More than
once he ran the risk of being taken prisoner from mere indolence. He
rarely himself saw anything at the army, trusting to his familiars when
ready to trust anybody. The way he employed his day prevented any real
attention to business. He was filthy in the extreme, and proud of it.
Fools called it simplicity. His bed was always full of dogs and bitches,
who littered at his side, the pops rolling in the clothes. He himself
was under constraint in nothing. One of his theses was, that everybody
resembled him, but was not honest enough to confess it as he was. He
mentioned this once to the Princesse de Conti--the cleanest person in the
world, and the most delicate in her cleanliness.
He rose rather late when at the army. In this situation he wrote his
letters, and gave his morning orders. Whoever had business with him,
general officers and distinguished persons, could speak to him then. He
had accustomed the army to this infamy. At the same time he gobbled his
breakfast; and whilst he ate, listened, or gave orders, many spectators
always standing round.... (I must be excused these disgraceful details,
in order better to make him known).... On shaving days he used the same
vessel to lather his chin in. This, according to him, was a simplicity
of manner worthy of the ancient Romans, and which condemned the splendour
and superfluity of the others. When all was over, he dressed; then
played high at piquet or hombre; or rode out, if it was absolutely
necessary. All was now over for the day. He supped copiously with his
familiars: was a great eater, of wonderful gluttony; a connoisseur in no
dish, liked fish much, but the stale and stinking better than the good.
The meal prolonged itself in theses and disputes, and above all in praise
and flattery.
He would never have forgiven the slightest blame from any one. He wanted
to pass for the first captain of his age, and spoke with indecent
contempt of Prince Eugene and all the others. The faintest contradiction
would have been a crime. The soldier and the subaltern adored him for
his familiarity with them, and the licence he allowed in order to gain
their hearts; for all which he made up by excessive haughtiness towards
whoever was elevated by rank or birth.
On one occasion the Duke of Parma sent the bishop of that place to
negotiate some affair with him; but M. de Vendome took such disgusting
liberties in his presence, that the ecclesiastic, though without saying a
word, returned to Parma, and declared to his master that never would he
undertake such an embassy again. In his place another envoy was sent,
the famous Alberoni. He was the son of a gardener, who became an Abbe in
order to get on. He was full of buffoonery; and pleased M. de Parma as
might a valet who amused him, but he soon showed talent and capacity for
affairs. The Duke thought that the night-chair of M. de Vendome required
no other ambassador than Alberoni, who was accordingly sent to conclude
what the bishop had left undone. The Abbe determined to please, and was
not proud. M. de Vendome exhibited himself as before; and Alberoni, by
an infamous act of personal adoration, gained his heart. He was
thenceforth much with him, made cheese-soup and other odd messes for him;
and finally worked his way. It is true he was cudgelled by some one he
had offended, for a thousand paces, in sight of the whole army, but this
did not prevent his advancement. Vendome liked such an unscrupulous
flatterer; and yet as we have seen, he was not in want of praise. The
extraordinary favour shown him by the King--the credulity with which his
accounts of victories were received--showed to every one in what
direction their laudation was to be sent.
Such was the man whom the King and the whole Court hastened to caress and
flatter from the first moment of his arrival amongst us. There was a
terrible hubbub: boys, porters, and valets rallied round his postchaise
when he reached Marly. Scarcely had he ascended into his chamber, than
everybody, princes, bastards and all the rest, ran after him. The
ministers followed: so that in a short time nobody was left in the salon
but the ladies. M. de Beauvilliers was at Vaucresson. As for me, I
remained spectator, and did not go and adore this idol.
In a few minutes Vendome was sent for by the King and Monseigneur. As
soon as he could dress himself, surrounded as he was by such a crowd, he
went to the salon, carried by it rather than environed. Monseigneur
stopped the music that was playing, in order to embrace him. The King
left the cabinet where he was at work, and came out to meet him,
embracing him several times. Chamillart on the morrow gave a fete in his
honour at L'Etang, which lasted two days. Following his example,
Pontchartrain, Torcy, and the most distinguished lords of the Court, did
the same. People begged and entreated to give him fetes; people begged
and entreated to be invited to them. Never was triumph equal to his;
each step he took procured him a new one. It is not too much to say,
that everybody disappeared before him; Princes of the blood, ministers,
the grandest seigneurs, all appeared only to show how high he was above
them; even the King seemed only to remain King to elevate him more.
The people joined in this enthusiasm, both in Versailles and at Paris,
where he went under pretence of going to the opera. As he passed along
the streets crowds collected to cheer him; they billed him at the doors,
and every seat was taken in advance; people pushed and squeezed
everywhere, and the price of admission was doubled, as on the nights of
first performances. Vendome, who received all these homages with extreme
ease, was yet internally surprised by a folly so universal. He feared
that all this heat would not last out even the short stay he intended to
make. To keep himself more in reserve, he asked and obtained permission
to go to Anet, in the intervals between the journeys to Marly. All the
Court, however, followed him there, and the King was pleased rather than
otherwise, at seeing Versailles half deserted for Anet, actually asking
some if they had been, others, when they intended to go.
It was evident that every one had resolved to raise M. de Vendome to the
rank of a hero. He determined to profit by the resolution. If they made
him Mars, why should he not act as such? He claimed to be appointed
commander of the Marechals of France, and although the King refused him
this favour, he accorded him one which was but the stepping-stone to it.
M. de Vendome went away towards the middle of March to command the army
in Italy, with a letter signed by the King himself, promising him that if
a Marechal of France were sent to Italy, that Marechal was to take
commands from him. M. de Vendome was content, and determined to obtain
all he asked on a future day. The disposition of the armies had been
arranged just before. Tesse, for Catalonia and Spain; Berwick, for the
frontier of Portugal; Marechal Villars, for Alsace; Marsin, for the
Moselle; Marechal de Villeroy, for Flanders; and M. de Vendome, as I have
said, for Italy.
Now that I am speaking of the armies, let me give here an account of all
our military operations this year, so as to complete that subject at
once.
M. de Vendome commenced his Italian campaign by a victory. He attacked
the troops of Prince Eugene upon the heights of Calcinato, drove them
before him, killed three thousand men, took twenty standards, ten pieces
of cannon, and eight thousand prisoners. It was a rout rather than a
combat. The enemy was much inferior in force to us, and was without its
general, Prince Eugene, he not having returned to open the campaign. He
came back, however, the day after this engagement, soon re-established
order among his troops, and M. de Vendome from that time, far from being
able to recommence the attack, was obliged to keep strictly on the
defensive while he remained in Italy. He did not fail to make the most
of his victory, which, however, to say the truth, led to nothing.
Our armies just now were, it must be admitted, in by no means a good
condition. The generals owed their promotion to favour and fantasy.
The King thought he gave them capacity when he gave them their patents.
Under M. de Turenne the army had afforded, as in a school, opportunities
for young officers to learn the art of warfare, and to qualify themselves
step by step to take command. They were promoted as they showed signs of
their capacity, and gave proof of their talent. Now, however, it was
very different. Promotion was granted according to length of service,
thus rendering all application and diligence unnecessary, except when M.
de Louvois suggested to the King such officers as he had private reasons
for being favourable to, and whose actions he could control. He
persuaded the King that it was he himself who ought to direct the armies
from his cabinet. The King, flattered by this, swallowed the bait, and
Louvois himself was thus enabled to govern in the name of the King, to
keep the generals in leading-strings, and to fetter their every movement.
In consequence of the way in which promotions were made, the greatest
ignorance prevailed amongst all grades of officers. None knew scarcely
anything more than mere routine duties, and sometimes not even so much as
that. The luxury which had inundated the army, too, where everybody
wished to live as delicately as at Paris, hindered the general officers
from associating with the other officers, and in consequence from knowing
and appreciating them. As a matter of course, there were no longer any
deliberations upon the state of affairs, in which the young might profit
by the counsels of the old, and the army profit by the discussions of
all. The young officers talked only of pay and women; the old, of forage
and equipages; the generals spent half their time in writing costly
despatches, often useless, and sending them away by couriers. The luxury
of the Court and city had spread into the army, so that delicacies were
carried there unknown formerly. Nothing was spoken of but hot dishes in
the marches and in the detachments; and the repasts that were carried to
the trenches, during sieges, were not only well served, but ices and
fruits were partaken of as at a fete, and a profusion of all sorts of
liqueurs. Expense ruined the officers, who vied with one another in
their endeavours to appear magnificent; and the things to be carried, the
work to be done, quadrupled the number of domestics and grooms, who often
starved. For a long time, people had complained of all this; even those
who were put to the expenses, which ruined them; but none dared to spend
less. At last, that is to say, in the spring of the following year, the
King made severe rules, with the object of bringing about a reform in
this particular. There is no country in Europe where there are so many
fine laws, or where the observance of them is of shorter duration. It
often happens, that in the first year all are infringed, and in the
second, forgotten. Such was the army at this time, and we soon had
abundant opportunities to note its incapacity to overcome the enemies
with whom we had to contend.
The King wished to open this campaign with two battles; one in Italy, the
other in Flanders. His desire was to some extent gratified in the former
case; but in the other he met with a sad and cruel disappointment. Since
the departure of Marechal de Villeroy for Flanders, the King had more
than once pressed him to engage the enemy. The Marechal, piqued with
these reiterated orders, which he considered as reflections upon his
courage, determined to risk anything in order to satisfy the desire of
the King. But the King did not wish this. At the same time that he
wished for a battle in Flanders, he wished to place Villeroy in a state
to fight it. He sent orders, therefore, to Marsin to take eighteen
battalions and twenty squadrons of his army, to proceed to the Moselle,
where he would find twenty others, and then to march with the whole into
Flanders, and join Marechal de Villeroy. At the same time he prohibited
the latter from doing anything until this reinforcement reached him.
Four couriers, one after the other, carried this prohibition to the
Marechal; but he had determined to give battle without assistance, and he
did so, with what result will be seen.
On the 24th of May he posted himself between the villages of Taviers and
Ramillies. He was superior in force to the Duke of Marlborough, who was
opposed to him, and this fact gave him confidence. Yet the position
which he had taken up was one which was well known to be bad. The late
M. de Luxembourg had declared it so, and had avoided it. M. de Villeroy
had been a witness of this, but it was his destiny and that of France
that he should forget it. Before he took up this position he announced
that it was his intention to do so to M. d'Orleans. M. d'Orleans said
publicly to all who came to listen, that if M. de Villeroy did so he
would be beaten. M. d'Orleans proved to be only too good a prophet.
Just as M. de Villeroy had taken up his position and made his
arrangements, the Elector arrived in hot haste from Brussels. It was
too late now to blame what had been done. There was nothing for it but
to complete what had been already begun, and await the result.
It was about two hours after midday when the enemy arrived within range,
and came under our fire from Ramillies. It forced them to halt until
their cannon could be brought into play, which was soon done. The
cannonade lasted a good hour. At the end of that time they marched to
Taviers, where a part of our army was posted, found but little
resistance, and made themselves masters of that place. From that moment
they brought their cavalry to bear. They perceived that there was a
marsh which covered our left, but which hindered our two wings from
joining. They made good use of the advantage this gave them. We were
taken in the rear at more than one point, and Taviers being no longer
able to assist us, Ramillies itself fell, after a prodigious fire and an
obstinate resistance. The Comte de Guiche at the head of the regiment of
Guards defended it for four hours, and performed prodigies, but in the
end he was obliged to give way. All this time our left had been utterly
useless with its nose in the marsh, no enemy in front of it, and with
strict orders not to budge from its position.
[Illustration: Marlborough At Ramillies--Painted by R. Canton Woodville--418]
Our retreat commenced in good order, but soon the night came and threw us
into confusion. The defile of Judoigne became so gorged with baggage and
with the wrecks of the artillery we had been able to save, that
everything was taken from us there. Nevertheless, we arrived at Louvain,
and then not feeling in safety, passed the canal of Wilworde without
being very closely followed by the enemy.
We lost in this battle four thousand men, and many prisoners of rank, all
of whom were treated with much politeness by Marlborough. Brussels was
one of the first-fruits he gathered of this victory, which had such grave
and important results.
The King did not learn this disaster until Wednesday, the 26th of May,
at his waking. I was at Versailles. Never was such trouble or such
consternation. The worst was, that only the broad fact was known; for
six days we were without a courier to give us details. Even the post was
stopped. Days seemed like years in the ignorance of everybody as to
details, and in the inquietude of everybody for relatives and friends.
The King was forced to ask one and another for news; but nobody could
tell him any. Worn out at last by the silence, he determined to despatch
Chamillart to Flanders to ascertain the real state of affairs.
Chamillart accordingly left Versailles on Sunday, the 30th of May, to the
astonishment of all the Court, at seeing a man charged with the war and
the finance department sent on such an errand. He astonished no less the
army when he arrived at Courtrai, where it had stationed itself. Having
gained all the information he sought, Chamillart returned to Versailles
on Friday, the 4th of June, at about eight o'clock in the evening, and at
once went to the King, who was in the apartments of Madame de Maintenon.
It was known then that the army, after several hasty marches, finding
itself at Ghent, the Elector of Bavaria had insisted that it ought at
least to remain there. A council of war was held, the Marechal de
Villeroy, who was quite discouraged by the loss he had sustained, opposed
the advice of the Elector. Ghent was abandoned, so was the open country.
The army was separated and distributed here and there, under the command
of the general officers. In this way, with the exception of Namur, Mons,
and a very few other places, all the Spanish Low Countries were lost, and
a part of ours, even. Never was rapidity equal to this. The enemies
were as much astonished as we.
However tranquilly the King sustained in appearance this misfortune, he
felt it to the quick. He was so affected by what was said of his body-
guards, that he spoke of them himself with bitterness. Court warriors
testified in their favour, but persuaded nobody. But the King seized
these testimonies with joy, and sent word to the Guards that he was well
contended with them. Others, however, were not so easily satisfied.
This sad reverse and the discontent of the Elector made the King feel at
last that his favourites must give way to those better able to fill their
places. Villeroy, who, since his defeat, had quite lost his head, and
who, if he had been a general of the Empire, would have lost it in
reality in another manner, received several strong hints from the King
that he ought to give up his command. But he either could not or would
not understand them, and so tired out the King's patience, at length.
But he was informed in language which admitted of no misapprehension that
he must return. Even then, the King was so kindly disposed towards him,
that he said the Marechal had begged to be recalled with such obstinacy
that he could not refuse him. But M. de Villeroy was absurd enough to
reject this salve for his honour; which led to his disgrace. M. de
Vendome had orders to leave Italy, and succeed to the command in
Flanders, where the enemies had very promptly taken Ostend and Nieuport.