service, Gallieni, now a General of Division, was given the 13th Army
Corps at Clermont Ferrand, and later the 14th Army Corps at Lyons,
carrying with it the eventual command of the army in the Alps. In 1908
he was called to the Superior Council of War. A year or two before the
Great War, which was to give him his crowning position of responsibility
at the Ministry in the Rue St. Dominique, he took part in the grand
manoeuvres in Touraine, and succeeded not only in out-manoeuvring "the
enemy," but positively in capturing the General-in-Chief and his staff.
Paris laughed long over the episode; the victorious General was
anticipating his laurels in actual war.
*CHAPTER XII*
*THE HERO OF THE OURCQ*
Four-and-forty years he had waited for that tragic moment: the crossing
of the frontier by the Germans for the second time. Through long years
of monotonous preparation he had been buoyed up by the thought of
serving his country in his country's greatest need. And now the
opportunity had come--almost too late, for his normal career had
finished two years before. But the old soldier in him arose and refused
to be comforted by a country gentleman's occupations, which had filled
his retirement. There was great work afoot; he must offer his sword to
France. To his friends it did not seem that Michel Joseph Maunoury had
greatly changed since the time when he was a spruce artillery captain,
and student of the Staff College. Hair, moustache, and goatee beard had
changed to white, of course, but the figure remained as slim and alert
as in the old days when he galloped each morning in the Bois. Whatever
the weather, he appeared in the _allees_, sitting his horse like a
Centaur, and getting himself fit for the great day which he saw by his
prophetic vision could not be very far off. He was haunted by the idea
of _la revanche_, and was too honest to conceal it. The word was not
popular with politicians. No public man dared utter it, save Deroulede
and his League of Patriots thundering against national apathy and
supineness in their orations of July 14. General Bailloud, who
afterwards distinguished himself in Sarrail's retreat through Macedonia,
was punished for saying to his Army Corps at Nancy that the time would
come when they would win back the Lost Provinces.
That Maunoury continually thought of these things is clear from the
General Order that he issued to the Sixth Army on September 10 after the
battle of the Marne. It is dated from his Headquarters at Claye, near
Meaux: "The Sixth Army has just sustained, during five entire days,
without any intermission or slackening, a struggle against a numerous
adversary whose moral has been exalted by success. The struggle has been
severe; the losses under fire, the fatigue due to want of sleep and,
sometimes, want of food, have surpassed imagination. You have supported
all with a valour, a firmness and endurance that words are powerless to
glorify as they deserve. Comrades, the General-in-Chief asked you in the
name of the _patrie_ to do more than your duty; you have responded
beyond what seemed to be possible. Thanks to you, victory has crowned
our standards. Now that you know its glorious satisfaction, you will
allow it no longer to escape you. As for myself if I have done anything
worthy, I have been recompensed by the greatest honour which could have
befallen me in my long career, that of commanding men like you. It is
with a lively emotion that I thank you for what you have done, for the
revenge for 1870, towards which all my energies and all my efforts have
been directed for forty-four years, is due to your efforts."
The document is a real profession of faith. It bespeaks the man and his
mission, his courage, his modesty, his patriotism, his long-suffering in
the Cause. The Order was wrongly attributed to Joffre, because he had
added some phrases at the end to express appreciation of the part played
by the Sixth Army in keeping engaged a notable portion of the German
forces on the Ourcq Front; but none who knew Maunoury and his intimate
opinions could question its authenticity. When he signed the Order he
wore for the first time (though he had possessed it since 1911) the
modest little bronze medal, with its green and black ribbon, which
commemorates 1870. Thus were linked in his mind the two dates--1870 and
1914--the one disaster and the other its vindication. Maunoury had
every reason to remember 1870. He was an officer-cadet at the time,
studying at the engineering and artillery school at Metz, the forerunner
of Fontainebleau. When war broke out he was appointed to a battery, and
arrived in Paris with it on the very day, September 14, when the
Republic was proclaimed. He had no idea, as he marched through the
streets with his men, that the Empire had fallen to a new form of
government. But he was to see the popular temper even more sharply
represented than that. At the gates of Paris was fought the battle of
Champigny, and there Maunoury lost his fellow-officers and remained
alone with a remnant of his battery. Then the rising tide of the
Commune caught him in Paris, unwarned of the retirement of the Regular
Army to Versailles. He and his men only escaped from the mob by
disguising themselves in _mufti_ and walking singly through the gates.
Happily, he was spared the horrors of a second siege--that of Paris in
the hands of the Commune. The first had left poignant memories never to
be effaced. Yet his vocation was so firmly fixed that he was not to be
turned from it even by this discouraging commencement. The possibility
of avenging national humiliation braced his energies and kept him
continually at work preparing for the inevitable day through more than
two score years. He became one of the most authoritative teachers of
the army. At St. Cyr, which he had attended as student, he became
professor, and when Fontainebleau started its artillery course, it was
he who directed it for the benefit of subalterns. Whilst he was
professing artillery at St. Cyr, a great controversy raged on the
subject. It was clear that France had been out-classed by Germany in
field-guns; it was one of the causes of her defeat. The guns were more
powerful, more accurately aimed, and more quickly served. The Germans
had learnt the art of shooting, which the French had neglected. Though
the De Reffye cannon was much better than its predecessor--a
muzzle-loader, firing an eight-pound shell, which broke only at two
distances--it was still far behind the German arm. The young war
professor pronounced strongly in favour of power. The field-gun, above
all, must be all-powerful, he said; mobility could come afterwards. The
rival camp protested that mobility should come first; you could mass
your light and handy guns and obtain the power required. But Maunoury
unveiled what he considered to be the sophistry of this argument. The
result of all this heat was the 75 mm., a model field-gun, which wrought
wonders for France in the Great War. But its efficiency was not
unconnected with an excellent shell.
Though he had studied deeply the lessons of 1870, Maunoury was not cast
down by them, but rather stimulated to greater effort. Immediately
after the war he wrote to his family a letter which shows his faith in
his country's renaissance. "The frightful catastrophe leaves France
mutilated, but she is not stricken to death. All can be repaired if she
really wishes it." That was the language of a soldier and optimist, but
it interpreted exactly the spirit of his countrymen and, above all, the
capacity of their eventual leaders. He was well placed to form such an
opinion, for, as General of Division, he became Director of the War
School, and upon its benches sat the future commanders of French armies.
Napoleon in his time made use of the material to his hand, often
untrained scientifically--the soldier of fortune, of practical
experience--but he held always that the best officer came from the
Schools. And this generalisation is true to-day, truer than ever,
because of the new character of war. Maunoury set himself against mere
specialisation, and, though he became an expert, as we have seen, he
enlarged his scope by studying tactics and then applied them in the
field, by commanding first the Fourteenth Army Corps at Marseilles, and
secondly the famous Twentieth Corps at Nancy, which looked directly in
the face of the foe. As colonel he had commanded artillery at
Vincennes.
He seemed to have written "finis" to the more active part of his career
when he became Governor of Paris, but even in this post of pure routine
in peace time, he invented methods of reform. He objected to the
slackness that prevailed, and circularised against the slovenliness of
soldiers' dress in the streets, and even on the parade-ground. He tried
to revive officers' interest in the morning ride in the Bois. Paris was
amused and at the same time satisfied with a circular issued during the
winter of 1911-12, which expressed surprise that the Governor met so few
officers on wet and cold mornings in the Bois. Between the lines you
could read his contempt for softness. Even in his most strenuous
student days he had always kept himself fit by constant physical
exercise. At the Cavalry School at Saumur, he was noted for his good
riding; in the Bois his elegant, upright figure was a reproach against
the carelessness of some officers.
He objected to _laissez-aller_ in any branch of the army. Discipline
was as important as guns and ammunition, he thought. Nor did he mean
mere respect for established things or strict obedience to superiors.
He meant that discipline of the mind which accepted principles and
policies--the unity of military doctrine; he meant a constant training
of officers in grand manoeuvres, that each might be accustomed to
responsibility in the common scheme. Only by incessant practice could
one attain perfection. And behind the discipline there must be
patriotism. His example and enthusiasm infected the Paris garrison; in
two years he had achieved marvels. And then the night parades,
inaugurated by M. Millerand in concert with the Governor, aroused
civilian enthusiasm for the army. Once more the streets of Paris
resounded with the cry: "Vive l'armee." Under the old _regime_ it had
become almost seditious as a sentiment, but now the whole street hummed
and sang the _Sambre et Meuse_, and marched in rhythm with the beating
drums and shrieking fifes. Even _blases_ Parisians in the cafes and
restaurants stood on their feet as the tattoo passed and the red-coated
orchestras broke into a rapturous _Marseillaise_, with accompanying
cheers. The _fond_ of Paris is always patriotic whatever the surface
currents.
When war fell out of a blue sky, Maunoury was tending his roses in his
garden in the quiet village of Mer, near Blois. A few months before,
his neighbours had asked him to stand for Parliament in the interest of
the Three-Years Law; but he declined. Perhaps his near view of politics,
as Commandant of the Guard of the Senate, had not conduced to a respect
for them. In any case, he preferred his open-air life and his country
pursuits to the feverish atmosphere of political Paris. When he went to
the Luxembourg, where is situated the Senate, it was to attend a course
on arboriculture--not to pay court to politicians. These he has kept
always at a distance. It needed a war to wrest him from his gardening
and agriculture, tastes the stronger for being hereditary. His family
was long settled in the Loir-et-Cher, and one of his uncles had allowed
Pasteur to experiment upon his flocks when investigating
cattle-diseases.
The old ardour returned at the call of duty. First came depot work,
important even if lacking glory, and then the command of an army at
Verdun for the eastern offensive. Alas! it was unsuccessful, and
Maunoury's, with the other French Armies, was soon in retreat towards
the south. But the watchful eye of Joffre remarked an attempt on the
part of Von Kluck, commanding the First German Army, to envelop the left
wing (the English Army) of the Allies. He sent Maunoury to support the
wing. The troops detrained at Montdidier, to the south of Amiens. They
arrived by divisions, and were flung, one after the other, into the
battle-line--a difficult and dangerous process under fire. Von Kluck
disregarded the army forming in front of his right, as if it did not
exist, and concentrated his attention on the English force, which he
wished to crush. Maunoury's orders were to fall back on Paris to form
the siege garrison. When the order reached him, he ejaculated, "Heaven
forbid! Anything but that." His memory went back to 1870, and there
was revived the old anguish at the misfortunes of his country. None the
less, he refused to lose heart, and kept a bold front to the enemy,
retiring in splendid order after holding each line as long as possible.
Gallieni had seen the enemy's move from north to east and noted its
strategic consequences. He communicated his impressions to the
Commander-in-Chief, and Maunoury's army, hastily reconstituted and now
composed of 100,000 men, was thrust again into an offensive against the
flank-guard of Reservists which was protecting Von Kluck's columns as
they glided past Paris. The assemblage of that army and its rapid
transport to the strategic points constitutes one of the romances of the
war.
The Sixth Army was composed of divers elements, most of which had
suffered greatly from the fighting in the east and north. The cavalry,
too, was fatigued by its long march from Charleroi. One of its
important bodies was General Lamaize's corps, formed of two divisions of
reserves, which had lost heavily in Lorraine. They had fought also at
Amiens, whither they had been transported by train, and then they
marched on foot to Dammartin, to the north of Meaux, which was one of
the points of concentration. To these divisions was added a brigade of
Moroccan infantry. The second considerable element was the Seventh Army
Corps, which had battled, also, in the east before reaching the Amiens
district. One of its divisions was commanded by General de Villaret,
who later was to be wounded with Maunoury at Soissons. Two divisions,
which had fought at Cambrai in French Flanders, and had been much cut
up; a division from Algeria which had just arrived in Paris; the Fourth
Army Corps from Lorraine where it had lost many men; a cavalry brigade
and the First Corps of Cavalry, consisting of three divisions; a brigade
of Marine Fusiliers, two-and-a-half battalions of Zouaves and a brigade
of Spahis (native cavalry from Algeria) were also joined to the force
under Maunoury. The fixed garrison of Paris consisted of four divisions
of Territorials, who were also employed in outpost work along the line
of contact.
The army was ordered to act in co-operation with the English, who had
assembled in the Coulommiers district; but, unfortunately, there seems
not to have been quite the co-operation needed between the two forces,
though Maunoury detached a division to the help of the ally. The Sixth
Army began the attack on the afternoon of September 5. In moving to
their positions, the troops found the enemy's reserves strongly
occupying villages to the left of Meaux. The General-in-chief's
dispositions were not entirely realized, and some critics blame what
they call the hesitancy of the English in assuming a vigorous offensive.
In any case the Operations, after severe fighting, were generally
crowned with success, and a great part of the credit of the battle of
the Marne is due to the resourcefulness and skill of Maunoury. An
incident in the battle was the arrival of reinforcements in 1,100
taxicabs, mobilised by General Gallieni, in order to transport the
Seventh Infantry Division to the left wing of the Sixth Army. The
infantry arrived with great promptitude by this means, and was able at
dawn on the morrow to enter into action. Having distinguished himself in
the defence of Paris, Maunoury was given the command of an army at
Soissons. There he was wounded during the Spring of 1915, whilst making
an inspection of the trenches with General de Villaret, who was also
injured by the same bullet. General Maunoury's right eye was lost and
the left affected. It meant that he could no longer hold his command at
the Front, and this fine old soldier, who had done so much for the
French Army, again became Governor of Paris, after an interval of three
years. Some have blamed him for exposing himself in the first-line
trenches only thirty metres from the enemy, but his principle always had
been that the Commander-in-Chief should share danger with his troops.
It is characteristic of him that he did not shrink from all the
consequences of such a theory. There was something a little touching in
the circumstances that in the twilight of his own life, after a
brilliant day, he came to watch over Paris--_la ville lumiere_--plunged
into the deep shadows of a precautionary darkness. And then when his own
light faded into a perpetual obscurity, he retired once again into the
peace--alas! the disabled peace--of private life, a sad but glorious end
for an old soldier.
*CHAPTER XIII*
*THE MILITARY POWER OF ENGLAND*
To convert an army of a few hundred thousands into a mighty machine of
millions--what achievement! And this, in a few months. To clothe,
equip, and supply these men with munitions--an even greater task! Yet
this England did; and French military critics were amazed at an exploit
unequalled in the world's history. The little band of men who fought so
gallantly at Mons, and whose opportune arrival helped to turn the first
tide of invasion, have grown and increased to the gigantic British Army
of to-day. Nothing delighted the French as much as the establishment of
Conscription in England. It seemed to them like the gauge of England's
seriousness. With their clear minds they had long realised that the
voluntary system was inadequate to furnish the necessary resources to
the army in time of war. True, the French, in their impatience to see
England scientifically increase her army, forgot how slowly was evolved
their own system of national service. Although, as we have seen, the
Convention, in a moment of revolutionary fervour, decreed that it was
the duty of every one to serve the State, a national system of
compulsion, applicable to everybody, was not resorted to until more than
fifty years after the Napoleonic Wars, and France had suffered defeat
from conscripted armies. Then, in its form, compulsion became a drastic
measure from which none escaped; but, even here, nearly another fifty
years was necessary to implant and make good the system of absolute
equality. Thus the French opinion which carped at England for her
slowness in taking up an equal burden in the field was not quite mindful
of French military history. These critics had not realised that the
completeness of the French national military service had been the growth
of many years, and that a vast national army could not spring into being
at the mere waving of a wand; and hence it was impossible for England,
even with the resources of her vast Empire, to have taken, _from the
start_, an equal share in the war. Even had England adopted compulsion
at the beginning of the war, there were corps of instructors to form,
barracks to build, training-grounds to be found. These difficulties
were quite apart from equipment, which hinged largely upon the supply of
labour for the making of rifles. Lastly, there was the supreme
difficulty of the higher command. Generals and staff-officers cannot be
turned out with the speed of drill-sergeants. Happily the Press,
instead of inflaming the spirit of criticism, set to work to explain the
difficulties under which England laboured by reason, even, of the
character of her institutions slowly evolved by the centuries. Both M.
Cruppi and M. Henry Davray emphasised England's marvellous achievement
in raising and equipping so vast an army, even before she adopted the
principle of Conscription, and appreciated the difficulty of
accommodating compulsory service to the notion of that individual
liberty which is the corner-stone of English national life. It was
clear that a certain section of the British public confounded a national
army, formed for a definite national purpose, with militarism of the
Prussian type, and, therefore, had created a bogey which it was
necessary to knock down before the principle of obligation could be
accepted by a free and enlightened people. And it is typical of the
conduct of the present war in England that it was the voice of the
people themselves, the clamour of the man-in-the-street, which forced
the Government to a decision. When the war broke out many thousands of
Englishmen voluntarily sacrificed their careers to join the army. But
in so doing they insisted that the manhood remaining in the country
should be forced to do likewise. And the man who stayed at home? Was
he averse from Conscription? Almost without exception the men who stayed
turned to Westminster and said, "Fetch me if you really want me. Fetch
me if the need is honestly great." No, the great British public--the
men in the trenches, the men at home, and the women (above all, the
women) insisted upon Conscription. It was Westminster that slept;
Westminster that hesitated, Westminster (slow as ever in learning to
"trust the people") that mumbled about votes when, even in those first
days of the war, they could have insured probably speedy victory! Only
when forced by the man-in-the-street did the Government act. Throughout
the first stages of the war, the British Government, instead of leading
public opinion, was driven by it. But in the eyes of a foreign nation, a
country, unfortunately, has only the prestige of its Government, and the
French, chafing against our slowness to adopt compulsion, little knew
that John Bull himself was fighting, through a maze of lawyers'
arguments, for that very principle. The farm labourer who, at the
beginning of things, asked, "Why can't they treat us all alike?" had his
finger upon the pulse of the nation while the politicians hesitated and
gambled with time. Their fatal lethargy contrasted ill with the
patriotism of France, who, twelve months before, imposed upon herself a
system of national service of the most complete character. No partial
exemptions were allowed either in the interests of education or any of
the liberal careers or even of poor widows' sons. The terms of service,
too, were equally long for infantry as for cavalry. In Germany a larger
and superabundant population allowed a fairly wide system of exemptions.
Until before the Great War, certain categories of men were not called
up; the infantry served only two years, and students benefited by a
one-year system. French people do not always realise, I think, the
immense price they have paid to escape from a repetition of the events
of 1870. They have not realised how seriously has been impeded their
own progress, thanks to the heavy strain placed upon their resources in
men. It has meant the withdrawal of practically all the valid young men
of the country from industry and commerce for the preparation of war.
It has meant the retardation of marriages and a limited birth-rate,
because young people could not marry until comparatively late; it has
meant, also, that the smallest proportion of the country was in a
condition to emigrate, for emigration takes place in the years of one's
youth. Thus the French social and industrial system was under the
domination of military exigencies, and France has made heavy sacrifices
to escape from what she most dreads: the Prussian yoke.