crossing was effected by several bridges, and assured by Massena
occupying the village of Aspern and Lannes that of Essling. By the
morning of the 22nd the mass of the French army had reached the north
bank of the river. Napoleon, who perceived that the Austrian line was
too extended to be strong, gave the command of the centre to Lannes with
orders to sally forth from between the villages of Aspern and Essling
and break the enemy's centre. In spite of a devastating artillery fire,
the Marshal carried out his orders to perfection, making skilful use of
his infantry and cavalry. He had actually forced back the Austrians when
he was recalled by Napoleon, who had just heard that the enemy had
succeeded in breaking the bridge by sending huge masses of timber down
the swollen river. Lannes retreated slowly on Essling, his troops
suffering severely from the re-formed Austrian batteries. While thus
holding the foe in check the Marshal was struck on the knee by a cannon
ball which ricocheted off the ground just in front of him. He was
removed to the rear, and the doctors decided that it was necessary to
amputate the right leg. The Marshal bore the operation well. He was
moved to Vienna, and sent for the celebrated mechanician, Mesler, to
make him a false leg, but unfortunately the hot weather affected the
wound and mortification set in. The Emperor, in spite of his anxieties,
came daily to visit him, and the dying hero had the last consolation of
seeing how much he was valued by his august master and friend. The end
came soon. On May 30th the Duke of Montebello died, and Napoleon, on
hearing the news, with tears in his eyes cried out, "What a loss for
France and for me!"
The death of Lannes removed the first of Napoleon's chosen Paladins,
and, in the opinion of the Emperor himself, perhaps the greatest soldier
of them all. At St. Helena the fallen Emperor thus appraised his old
comrade: "Lannes was a man of extraordinary bravery. Calm under fire, he
possessed a sure and penetrating coup d'oeil; he had great experience
in war. As a general he was infinitely superior to Moreau and Soult."
But high as this eulogy is, the fact remains that Lannes was lucky in
the time of his death: Fortune had not yet set her face against
Napoleon's arms, and he was spared the terrors of the Russian retreat,
the terrible fighting at Leipzig, and the gloom and misery of the winter
campaign in France. That Lannes would have emerged superior to these
trials his previous career affords strong reason to presume. Yet,
brilliant as were his actions at Montebello, Saalfeld, Pultusk, and
Tudela, masterly as were his operations at the siege of Saragossa, they
only prove the Marshal's command of the technique of tactics. As Davout
has pointed out, the Duke of Montebello had never an opportunity of
showing his ability in the field of grand tactics or in the higher
conceptions of strategy; he was a past master in the art of
manoeuvring twenty-five thousand infantry, but he had never the
opportunity of devising and carrying out a complete campaign, involving
the handling of hundreds of thousands of men and the successful solution
of problems both military and political. "The Roland of the French Army"
had by nature many qualities which go to form a great soldier. His
bravery was undoubted; before Ney he was called "the Bravest of the
Brave." He had personal qualities which inspired his troops with his own
courage and elan. He had the military eye, and a mind of extraordinary
activity, which worked best when under the pressure of necessity and
danger. He was physically strong and able to endure fatigue, and he had
great capacity for taking pains. But his temper was often at fault,
causing him to burst into fits of uncontrollable rage, while from
jealousy he was apt to sulk and refuse to co-operate with his fellows.
If an officer failed to grasp his meaning he would storm at him, and
attempt himself to carry out the task. But on one occasion he heard the
Emperor cry out, "That devil Lannes possesses all the qualities of a
great commander, but he will never be one, because he cannot master his
temper, and is constantly bickering with his subalterns, the greatest
fault that a commander can make." From that day forward Lannes made the
resolution to command his temper, and, in spite of his nature, his
self-control became extraordinary. But though he conquered this
weakness, he never overcame his jealousy of his fellow Marshals and
generals. Again and again he threw up his command because he thought he
was slighted or that others were preferred to him. At times he broke out
into violent tirades against the Emperor himself, and on one occasion,
in his jealousy, told him that Murat, his brother-in-law, was "a
mountebank, a tight-rope dancer." Napoleon remonstrated with him,
exclaiming, "It is I alone who give you both glory and success." Lannes,
livid with anger, retaliated, "Yes, yes; because you have marched up to
your ankles in gore on this bloody field, you think yourself a great
man; and your emplumed brother-in-law crows on his own dunghill....
Twelve thousand corpses lying on the plain to keep the field for your
honour ... and yet to deny me--to me, Lannes--my due share in the
honours of the day!" On the day before his death he could not resist
humiliating his hated enemy, Bessieres, whom Napoleon had put under his
command, and he actually insulted him on the field of battle by sending
a junior aide-de-camp to tell the Marshal "to charge home," implying
that he was shirking his duty.
As a man, Lannes was warm-hearted and beloved by his family, his staff,
and his men. Rough diamond as he was, he was truly one of nature's
gentlemen. He never forgot a friend, though he seldom if ever forgave an
enemy. His sympathies were essentially democratic; himself one of the
people, he believed thoroughly in republican ideas. Outspoken to a
fault, he would flare out against Napoleon himself, but one kind word
from his great chief would cause him to forget all his bitterness. His
impetuosity and his republican ideals of equality were, naturally,
extremely offensive on occasions to the Emperor and the new nobility,
and Lannes, in spite of all his efforts, was too genuine to conceal his
hatred of all flunkeyism. It was this Gascon self-confidence, blended
with singular amiability of character, which, while it offended the
court, attached to the Marshal his soldiers and the provincial society
of Lectourne, where even to this day the name of the Duke of Montebello
is held in the most affectionate esteem and regard.
VII
MICHEL NEY, MARSHAL, DUKE OF ELCHINGEN, PRINCE OF MOSKOWA
"Go on, Ney; I am satisfied with you; you will make your way." So spoke
a captain of hussars to a young recruit who had attracted his attention.
The captain little thought that the zealous stripling would one day
become a Marshal of France, the Prince of Moskowa, and famed throughout
Europe as the "Bravest of the Brave." Still, the youth had presentiments
of future greatness. Born on January 10, 1769, the son of a poor cooper,
of Sarrelouis, more German than French, Michel Ney, at the age of
fifteen, was possessed with the idea that he was destined for
distinction. His father and mother tried to persuade him to become a
miner, but nothing would please the high-spirited boy save the life of a
soldier. Accordingly on February 1, 1787, he tramped off to Metz and
enlisted as a private in the regiment known as the Colonel General's
Hussars. Physically strong, unusually active, by nature a horseman, he
soon attracted the attention of his comrades by his skill in menage and
his command of the sabre, and was chosen to represent his regiment in a
duel against the fencing master of another regiment of the garrison.
Unfortunately for Ney, the authorities got wind of the affair in time to
prevent any decision being arrived at, and the young soldier was
punished for breaking regulations by a term of imprisonment; but no
sooner was he released than he again challenged his opponent. This time
there was no interference, and Ney so severely wounded his adversary
that he was unable to continue his profession. Though he thus early in
his career distinguished himself by his bravery, tenacity, and disregard
of rules, it must not for a moment be thought that he was a mere
swashbuckler. With the determination to rise firmly before his eyes, he
set about, from the day he enlisted, to learn thoroughly the rudiments
of his profession, and to acquire a knowledge of French and the faculty
of reading and writing; thus he was able to pass the necessary tests,
and quickly gained the rank of sergeant. Ney was fortunate in that he
had not to spend long years as a non-commissioned officer with no
obvious future before him. The Revolution gave him the opportunity so
long desired by Massena and others, and it was as lieutenant that he
started on active service with Dumouriez's army in 1793. Once on active
service it was not long before his great qualities made themselves
recognised. Though absolutely uncultivated, save for the smattering of
reading and writing which he had picked up in the regimental school, and
to outward appearances rather heavy and stupid, in the midst of danger
he showed an energy, a quickness of intuition, and a clearness of
understanding which hurled aside the most formidable obstacles. Physical
fear he never knew; as he said, when asked if he ever felt afraid, "No,
I never had time." In his earliest engagements at Neerwinden and in the
north of France, he foreshadowed his future career by the extraordinary
bravery and resource he showed in handling his squadron of cavalry
during the retreat, on one occasion, with some twenty hussars,
completely routing three hundred of the enemy's horse. This achievement
attracted the attention of General Kleber, who sent for Captain Ney and
entrusted him with the formation of a body of franc-tireurs of all arms.
The franc-tireurs were really recognised brigands. They received no pay
or arms and lived entirely on plunder, but were extremely useful for
scouting and reconnaissance, and collected a great deal of information
under a dashing officer. From this congenial work Ney was summoned in
1796 to command the cavalry of General Coland's division in the Army of
the Sambre and Meuse. There he distinguished himself by capturing
Wuerzburg and two thousand of the enemy with a squadron of one hundred
hussars. After this exploit General Kleber refused to listen to his
remonstrances and insisted on his accepting his promotion as general of
brigade. At the commencement of the campaign of 1797 Ney had the
misfortune to be taken prisoner at Giessen. While covering the retreat
with his cavalry, he saw a horse artillery gun deserted by its men.
Galloping back by himself, he attempted to save the piece, but the
enemy's horse swept down and captured him. His captivity was not long:
his exchange was soon effected, and he returned to France in time to
join in the agitation against the party of the Clicheans, the only
occasion he actively interfered in politics.
[ILLUSTRATION: MICHEL NEY, PRINCE OF MOSKOWA
FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE PAINTING BY F. GERARD]
On the re-opening of the war in 1799 Ney was sent to command the cavalry
of the Army of the Rhine. The campaign was notable for an exploit which
admirably illustrates the secret of his success as a soldier. The town
of Mannheim, held by a large Austrian garrison, was the key of Southern
Germany. The French army was separated from this fortress by the broad
Rhine. The enemy was confident that any attempt on the fortress must be
preceded by the passage of the river by the whole French army. But Ney,
hearing that the enemy's troops were cantonned in the villages
surrounding the town, saw that if a small French force could be smuggled
across by night, it might be possible to seize the town by a
coup-de-main. The most important thing to ascertain was the exact
position of the cantonments of the troops outside the fortress and of
the various guards and sentinels inside the town. So important did he
consider this information that he determined to cross the river himself
and reconnoitre the position in person. Accordingly, general of division
as he was, he disguised himself as a Prussian, and trusting to his early
knowledge of German, he crossed the river secretly, and carefully noted
all the enemy's preparations, running the risk of being found out and
shot as a spy. The following evening, with a weak detachment, he again
crossed the river, attacked the enemy's guards with the bayonet, drove
back a sortie of the garrison, and entered the town pell-mell with the
flying enemy; and under cover of the darkness, which hid the paucity of
his troops, he bluffed the enemy into surrender. The year 1800 brought
him further glory under Massena and Moreau, and he became known
throughout the armies of France as the "Indefatigable."
After the Treaty of Luneville, the First Consul summoned Ney to Paris,
and won his affection by the warmth with which he received him. On his
departure Bonaparte presented him with a sword. "Receive this weapon,"
he said, "as a souvenir of the friendship and esteem I have towards you.
It belonged to a pasha who met his death bravely on the field of
Aboukir." The sword became Ney's most treasured possession: he was never
tired of handling it, and he never let it go out of his sight; but he
little thought what ill luck it would bring him later, for it was this
famous sword which, in 1815, revealed to the police his hiding-place,
and thus indirectly led him to death. The relations between Ney and the
First Consul soon became closer. The general married a great friend of
Hortense Beauharnais, Mademoiselle Auguie, the daughter of Marie
Antoinette's lady in waiting. Sure of his devotion and perceiving the
sternness with which he obeyed orders, in 1802 the First Consul
entrusted him with the subjugation of Switzerland. The Swiss army fled
before him, and a deputation, charged to make their submission to
France, arrived in his camp with the keys of the principal towns. The
general met them, listened courteously to their words of submission,
then with a wave of the hand refused the keys. With that insight which
later led him to warn Napoleon against attempting to trample on the
people of Spain and Russia, he replied to the deputation, "It is not the
keys I demand: my cannon can force your gates; bring me hearts full of
submission, worthy of the friendship of France." Soon afterwards, with
Soult and Davout, Ney was honoured with the command of one of the corps
in the army which the First Consul was assembling for the invasion of
England. In selecting him for this important post Napoleon showed that
power of discrimination which contributed so greatly to his success.
For, save in the raid into Switzerland, Ney had not yet been called upon
to deal with complicated questions of administration and finance. His
reputation rested purely on his extraordinary dash and bravery in the
face of the enemy and his power of using to the full the elan which lies
latent in all French armies. For when not in touch with the enemy he was
notoriously indolent. He never made any attempt to learn the abstract
science of war, and until stirred by danger his character seemed to
slumber. Others judged him as the Emperor did at St. Helena when he
said, "He was the bravest of men; there terminated all his faculties."
But, in spite of this limitation in his character, Napoleon employed him
again and again in positions of responsibility, for he knew that Ney's
word once passed was never broken, that his devotion to France and to
its ruler was steadfast, that in spite of his peevishness and his fierce
outbursts of temper and bitter tirades, when it came to deeds there
would be no wavering. Consequently the First Consul availed himself
gladly of his great reputation for bravery, considering that hero
worship did more to turn the young recruits into soldiers than the
greatest organising and administrative talents. Moreover, Napoleon kept
an eye on the composition of the staff of his Marshals and generals, and
he knew that Ney had in Jomini, the chief of his staff, a man of
admirable talent and sagacity, who would turn in their proper direction
the sledge-hammer blows of the "Bravest of the Brave."
With the creation of the Empire Ney was included among the Paladins of
the new Charlemagne and received his Marshal's baton, the Grand Cross of
the Legion of Honour, and the Order of the Christ of Portugal. But the
new Marshal cared little for the life of a courtier, much as he prized
his military distinctions. Banquets and feasting offered little
attraction to the hero, and he despised riches and rank. "Gentlemen,"
said he one day to his aides-de-camp, who were boasting of their
families and rich appointments, "Gentlemen, I am more fortunate than
you: I got nothing from my family, and I esteemed myself rich at Metz
when I had two loaves of bread on the table." Accordingly, no young
subaltern thirsting for glory was happier that Marshal Ney when, in
August, 1805, the order came to march on Austria. The campaign, so
suddenly commenced, brought the Marshal the hard fighting and the glory
he loved so well. In the operations round Ulm, he surpassed himself by
the tenacity with which he stuck to the enemy, and, thanks to the skill
of Jomini, his errors only added to his fame, and the combat of
Elchingen became immortal when Napoleon selected this name as a title
for the Marshal when he created him Duke. During the fighting which
penned the Austrians into Ulm two sides of the Marshal's character were
clearly seen--his extraordinary bravery and his jealousy. The Emperor,
anxious for the complete success of his plans, despatched an officer to
command Ney to avoid incurring a repulse and to await reinforcements.
The aide-de-camp found him in the faubourg of the town amongst the
skirmishers. He delivered his message, whereupon the Marshal replied,
"Tell the Emperor that I share the glory with no one; I have already
provided for a flank attack." In September, 1806, Ney was ordered to
march to Wuerzburg to join the Grand Army for the war against Prussia.
The campaign gave him just those opportunities which he knew so well
how to seize, and before the end of the war the Emperor had changed his
sobriquet from the "Indefatigable" to the "Bravest of the Brave." But
glorious as his conduct was, his rash impetuosity more than once
seriously compromised Napoleon's plans. At Jena his rashness and his
jealousy of his fellow Marshals caused him to advance before the other
corps had taken up their positions. His isolated attack was defeated by
the Prussians, and it took the united efforts of Lannes and Soult to
rally his shattered battalions and snatch victory from the enemy. But
his personal bravery at Jena, his brilliant pursuit of the enemy, the
audacity with which he bluffed fourteen thousand Prussians to surrender
at Erfurt, and his capture of twenty-three thousand prisoners and eight
hundred cannon at the great fortress of Magdeburg made ample amends for
his errors.
But glorious as was his success, his impetuosity soon brought him into
further disgrace. Detached from the main army on the Lower Vistula in
the spring of 1807, he advanced against a mixed force of Prussians and
Russians before Napoleon had completed all his plans. The Emperor was
furious, and Berthier was ordered to write that, "The Emperor has, in
forming his plans, no need of advice or of any one acting on his own
responsibility: no one knows his thoughts; it is our duty to obey." But
to obey orders when in contact with the enemy was just what the fiery
soldier was unable to do, and the Emperor, recognising this full well,
ordered his chief of the staff to write that "His Majesty believes that
the position of the enemy is due to the rash manoeuvre made by Marshal
Ney." When the main advance commenced the Marshal was summoned to rejoin
the Grand Army. He did not arrive in time to take any prominent share in
the bloody battle of Eylau; in spite of every exertion, his corps only
reached the field of battle as darkness set in. The sight of the awful
carnage affected even the warworn Marshal, and made him exclaim, "What
a massacre!" and, as he added, "without any issue." Friedland was a
battle after Ney's own heart. He arrived on the field at the moment
Napoleon was opening his grand attack, and with his corps he was ordered
to assault the enemy's left. Hurling division after division, by
hand-to-hand fighting he drove the enemy back from their lines, and
flung them into the trap of Friedland, there to fall by hundreds under
the fierce fire of the French massed batteries. It was his sangfroid
which was responsible for the devotion with which the soldiers rushed
against the enemy. At the beginning of the action some of the younger
grenadiers kept bobbing their heads under the hail of bullets which
almost darkened the air. "Comrades," called out the Marshal, who was on
horseback, "the enemy are firing in the air; here am I higher than the
top of your busbies, and they don't hurt me."
After the peace of Tilsit, Ney, soon Duke of Elchingen, had a year's
repose from war, but in 1808 he was one of those summoned to retrieve
the errors arising from Napoleon's mistaken calculation of the Spanish
problem. The selection was an unfortunate one. Accustomed to the
ordinary warfare of Central Europe, at his best in the melee of battle,
in Spain, where organised resistance was seldom met, where the foe
vanished at the first contact, the Marshal showed a hesitation and
vacillation strangely in contrast with his dashing conduct on the
battlefield. Fine soldier as he was, he lacked the essentials of the
successful general--imagination and moral courage. He was unable to
discern in his mind's eye what lay on the other side of a hill, and the
blank which this lack of imagination caused in his mind affected his
nerves, and made him irresolute and irritable. Moreover, in Spain, the
success of the Emperor's plans depended on the loyal co-operation of
Marshal with Marshal. But unfortunately Ney, obsessed by jealousy, was
most difficult to work with; as Napoleon himself said, "No one knew what
it was to deal with two men like Ney and Soult." From the very outset
of his career in Spain he showed a lack of strategic insight and a want
of rapidity of movement. Thus it was that he was unable to assist Lannes
in the operations which the Emperor had planned for the annihilation of
the Spaniards at Tudela. His heart was not in the work, and he made no
attempt to hide this from Napoleon. When the Emperor before leaving
Spain reviewed his troops, and told him that "Romana would be accounted
for in a fortnight; the English are beaten and will make no more effort;
that all will be quiet here in three months," the Duke of Elchingen
boldly told him, "The men of this country are obstinate, and the women
and children fight; I see no end to the war." It was with gloomy
forebodings, therefore, that he saw the Emperor ride off to France. But
what increased his dislike of the whole situation was that his
operations were made subservient to those of Soult, his old enemy and
rival. The hatred which existed between the two was of long standing,
and had burned fiercely ever since the days of Jena, when Soult had been
mainly instrumental in retrieving the disaster threatened by Ney's
impetuosity. It came to a head when, after the Duke of Dalmatia's
expulsion from Portugal, the armies of the two Marshals met at Lugo.
Soult's corps arrived without cannon or baggage, a mere armed rabble,
and Ney's men jeered at the disorganised battalions. The Marshals
themselves took sides with their men. Matters were not improved when
Joseph sent orders that Ney was to consider himself under Soult, and,
though Napoleon himself confirmed the decision, it brought no peace
between the rival commanders. All through the Talavera campaign there
was perpetual discord, and it was Ney's hesitation, arising from
vacillation or jealousy, which prevented Soult from cutting off the
English retreat across the Tagus.