the French commander, and when he was recalled to Paris he found that
military opinion was on his side and that Bonaparte himself highly
approved of his conduct. "Thenceforward the opinion of my amphitryon was
settled in my favour!" Macdonald's next employment was in command of the
Army of the Grisons, whose duty was to cover Moreau's right rear in his
advance down the Danube, and to keep up communication with the Army of
Italy in the valley of the Po. It was in the performance of this duty
that the Army of the Grisons crossed the Spluegen Pass in winter in spite
of glaciers and avalanches, a feat immeasurably superior to Bonaparte's
task in crossing the much easier Great St. Bernard Pass, after the
snows had melted. Unfortunately for Macdonald, Bonaparte believed him to
belong to Moreau's faction. After Hohenlinden the future Emperor, who
was afraid that Moreau's glory would outshine his own, placed all that
general's friends on the black book. Further, owing to his
outspokenness, Talleyrand had conceived a hatred of the hero of the
Spluegen. Accordingly, he found himself in deep disgrace. First he was
exiled as ambassador at Copenhagen, then his enemies tried to get him
sent to Russia in the same capacity, but he refused to go, and for the
next few years lived the life of a quiet country gentleman on his estate
of Courcelles le Roi. Like most of the generals, Macdonald was by now
comparatively well off, for the French Government, on the conquest of a
country, had allowed its generals to take what works of art they chose,
after the Commissioners had selected the best for the national
collection at the Louvre. The general's share as commander-in-chief at
Naples had been valued by experts at thirty-four thousand pounds.
Unfortunately, however, this booty and many masterpieces which he had
bought himself were all lost in the hurried march north that ended in
the battle of the Trebbia.
It was not till 1809 that Macdonald was summoned from his retreat. In
that year the Emperor needed every soldier of ability, with the Spanish
ulcer eating at his vitals and the war with Austria on his hands.
Accordingly, at a day's notice, he was ordered to hurry off to Italy to
help Napoleon's stepson, Prince Eugene, who was opposed by an Austrian
army under the Archduke John.
On arriving in Italy the old soldier found that Prince Eugene,
unaccustomed to an independent command, had opened the gate of Italy to
the Austrians by his impetuous action at Sacile. The French troops were
in complete disorganisation, and the slightest activity on the part of
the Austrians would have turned the retreat into a rout. Prince Eugene,
who was without a spark of jealousy, and in reality a man of
considerable character, greeted his mentor with delight. Macdonald at
once pointed out that it was unnecessary to retire as far as Mantua,
because the Archduke would not venture to penetrate far into Italy until
a decision had been arrived at between the main armies on the Danube.
Under his careful supervision, order and discipline were restored among
the French troops on the line of the Adige. The news of the French
success at Eckmuehl and Ratisbon automatically cleared the Austrians out
of Northern Italy. During the pursuit the general had to impose on
himself the severest self-control, because, though Prince Eugene
invariably accepted his advice, the disaster at Sacile had for the time
broken his nerve, and, again and again, he spoiled his mentor's best
combinations by ordering a halt whenever the enemy appeared to be going
to offer any resistance. It was hard indeed to accept subsequent
apologies with a courteous smile, when it was success alone that would
win back the Emperor's favour. But at last patience had its reward:
while the viceroy himself pursued the main force of the enemy, he
detached his lieutenant with a strong corps to take Trieste and to pick
up communication with Marmont, who was bringing up the army of Dalmatia.
Macdonald was given carte blanche. Trieste and Goerz were taken; the
junction with Marmont was speedily effected, and the combined forces
hurried on towards Vienna. The great entrenched camp at Laybach blocked
the way. Macdonald had not the necessary heavy artillery with which to
capture it. He determined therefore to make a threatening demonstration
by day and slip past it by night. But at ten o'clock in the evening a
flag of truce arrived offering a capitulation. "You are doing wisely,"
said the imperturbable Scotchman; "I was just going to sound the
attack."
At Gratz he overtook Prince Eugene's army at the moment that the ill
news of the battle of Aspern-Essling arrived. Then came the summons to
hurry to the assistance of the Emperor. After marching sixty leagues in
three days the Army of Italy arrived at nine o'clock at night on July
4th at the imperial headquarters at Ebersdorf. During that night it
crossed the Danube, under cover of the terrific thunderstorm which hid
the French advance from the Austrians. On the afternoon of July 5th it
fell to the lot of Macdonald to attempt to seize the plateau which
formed the Austrian centre. As the general well knew, the Emperor had
been mistaken in thinking that the enemy were evacuating their position;
still, he had to obey orders, and night alone saved his cruelly shaken
battalions. Next day was fought the terrible battle of Wagram. At the
critical moment of the fight, when the Emperor heard that Massena, on
his left wing, was being driven in on the bridge-head, amid the
confusion and rout he ordered Macdonald to attempt by a bold
counter-stroke to break the enemy's centre. The Austrians were advancing
in masses, with nothing in front of them, and the bridge, the only line
of retreat, was threatened. To meet this situation Macdonald deployed
four battalions in line, at the double; behind them he formed up the
rest of his corps in two solid columns, and closed the rear of this
immense rectangle of troops by Nansouty's cavalry. Covered by the fire
of a massed battery of a hundred guns, he discharged this huge body of
thirty thousand troops against the Austrians, and in spite of vast
losses from the enemy's artillery, by sheer weight of human beings he
completely checked the Austrian advance and broke their centre. If the
cavalry of the Guard had only charged home the enemy would have been
driven off the field in complete rout. Still unsupported, the column
continued its victorious career, taking six thousand prisoners and ten
guns, the only trophies of the day. Next morning the hero of Wagram,
lame from the effect of a kick from his horse, was summoned before the
Emperor.
Napoleon embraced him with the words, "Let us be friends." "Till death,"
replied his staunch lieutenant. Then came his reward. "You have behaved
valiantly," continued the Emperor, "and have rendered me the greatest
services, as, indeed, throughout the entire campaign. On the battlefield
of your glory, where I owe you so large a share of yesterday's success,
I make you a Marshal of France. You have long deserved it."
After the ratification of peace, the Emperor created his new Marshal
Duke of Tarentum, granted him a present of sixty thousand francs, and
presented him with the Grand Cordon of the Legion of Honour. Having at
last regained the Emperor's favour, the Marshal had never again to
complain of lack of employment. From Wagram he was sent to watch the
army of the Archduke John; thereafter he was appointed
commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy. In 1810 he was despatched to
Spain to take command in Catalonia. Like his fellow Marshals, Macdonald
hated the Spanish war, which was a war of posts, and devoid of glory.
But he showed his versatility by capturing, without artillery, the
stronghold of Figueras.
It was while suffering from a bad attack of gout after this success that
he was summoned from Spain to Tilsit, to command the corps comprised of
Prussian troops which was to join the Grand Army in its advance into
Russia. As he graphically put it, "I had left my armchair in the
fortress of Figueras, I left one crutch in Paris and the other in
Berlin." The Duke of Tarentum's duty was to guard the tete-du-pont at
Dunaberg, near the mouth of the Dwina; consequently he was spared a
great many of the horrors of the terrible retreat. Still, he had his
full share of troubles, for the Prussians deserted him and went over to
the enemy. So confident was he of the loyalty of his subordinates that
this desertion took him quite unawares, and, in spite of warnings, he
waited for the divisions to rejoin him, declaring that, "My life, my
career, shall never be stained with the reproach that I have committed
the cowardly action of deserting troops committed to my care."
Fortunately his eyes were opened by letters which he intercepted. With a
handful of troops he escaped to Dantzig. On returning to Paris Macdonald
was greeted with a cold reception by the Emperor, who thought that the
desertion of the Prussians was due to his negligence. But the Marshal's
character was soon cleared and a reconciliation followed. In the
campaign of 1813 it fell to the lot of the Duke of Tarentum to watch the
Prussian army under Bluecher in Silesia while the Emperor operated
against the Austrians round Dresden. Whilst thus employed he was
defeated on August 26th at the Katzbach. The Prussians had established
themselves on the heights at Jauer. Macdonald attempted, by a combined
frontal attack and a turning movement, to dislodge them. Unfortunately
the rain came down in torrents, the French artillery became embedded in
the mud, the infantry could not fire, the cavalry could not charge, and
a hurried retreat alone saved the Army from absolute annihilation, for,
as Macdonald wrote in his despatch, "The generals cannot prevent the men
from seeking shelter, as their muskets are useless to them."
The repulse at the Katzbach did not weaken the Emperor's esteem for the
Marshal, and a few days later he sent to inquire his views of the
general situation. With absolute courage he told the truth. The
situation was hopeless; the only wise course was to evacuate all
garrisons in Germany and retire on the Saale. Unfortunately, such a
retirement would have meant the loss of Napoleon's throne.
On the third day of the battle of Leipzig, in the midst of the action,
Macdonald was deserted by all the Hessian troops under his command, and,
at the same time, Marshal Augereau, who was supposed to cover his right,
withdrew from the combat. Accordingly, the Marshal retired with the
remnants of his corps to the Elster, only to find the bridge blown up.
Dragged along by the crowd of fugitives, he determined not to fall alive
into the hands of the enemy, but either to drown or shoot himself. More
fortunate, however, than Prince Poniatowski, he managed to cross the
river on his horse. Once safely across, he was greeted by cries from the
other bank, "Monsieur le Marechal, save your soldiers, save your
children!" But there was nothing to be done; no advice could he give
them save to surrender.
The Duke of Tarentum was mainly instrumental in saving the remnants of
the army which had managed to cross the Elster. Going straight to the
Emperor, he laid the situation before him, ruthlessly tore aside the
tissue of lies with which the staff were trying to cajole him, and, by
his force of will, compelled Napoleon, who for the time was quite
unnerved and mazed, to hurry on the retreat to the Rhine. It was
entirely owing to the Marshal that the Bavarians were brushed aside at
Hanau, and that some few remnants of the great army regained France.
In the famous campaign of 1814 Macdonald fought fiercely to drive the
enemy out of France. His corps was one of those which the Emperor
summoned to Arcis sur Aube. There again he had to tell Napoleon the
truth and convince him that the enemy were not retreating, but were in
full advance on Paris. When the Emperor tried to retrieve his mistake by
following in the rear, the Marshal was in favour of the bolder course of
advancing into Alsace and Lorraine, and of raising the nation in arms,
and thus starving out the Allies by cutting off their supplies and
reinforcements; and no doubt he was right, for the Czar himself said
that the Allies lost more than three thousand troops in the Vosges
without seeing a single French soldier.
When Napoleon reached Fontainebleau he found that he had shot his bolt.
So tired were his officers and men of continual fighting that, when
ordered to charge, a general officer in front of his men had called out,
"Damn it, let us have peace!" Consequently when Macdonald and the other
Marshals and generals were informed that the Allies would no longer
treat with Napoleon, they determined to make him abdicate. The Emperor,
on summoning his council, found that they no longer feared him, and
refused to listen to his arguments. Hoping to save the throne for his
son, he despatched Caulaincourt, Ney, Marmont, and Macdonald to the
Czar, offering to abdicate. The best terms the Commissioners could get
from the Czar were that Napoleon must give up all hope of seeing his son
succeed him, but that he should retain his imperial title and should be
allowed to rule the island of Elba. The Czar magnanimously added, "If he
will not accept this sovereignty, and if he can find no shelter
elsewhere, tell him, I say, to come to my dominions. There he shall be
received as a sovereign: he can trust the word of Alexander."
Ney and Marmont did not accompany the other Commissioners with their
sorrowful terms; like rats they left the sinking ship. But Macdonald was
of a strain which had stood the test of the '45, and his proud Scotch
blood boiled up when the insidious Talleyrand suggested that he should
desert his master, telling him that he had now fulfilled all his
engagements and was free. "No, I am not," was the stern reply, "and
nobody knows better than you that, as long as a treaty has not been
ratified, it may be annulled. After that formality is ended, I shall
know what to do." The stricken Emperor met his two faithful
Commissioners, his face haggard, his complexion yellow and sickly, but
for once at least he felt gratitude. "I have loaded with favours," he
said, "many others who have now deserted and abandoned me. You, who owe
me nothing, have remained faithful. I appreciate your loyalty too late,
and I sincerely regret that I am now in a position in which I can only
prove my gratitude by words."
After Napoleon started for Elba, Macdonald never saw him again. Like all
his fellow Marshals, except Davout, he swore allegiance to Louis XVIII.,
looking on him as the only hope of France, but, unlike the most of them,
he served him loyally, though, as he truly said, "The Government behaved
like a sick man who is utterly indifferent to all around him." As a
soldier and a liberal he could not disguise his repugnance for many of
its measures. As secretary to the Chamber of Peers, he fought tooth and
nail against the Government's first measure, a Bill attempting to
restrict the liberties of the peers. The King summoned the Marshal and
rebuked him for both speaking and voting against the Government, adding,
"When I take the trouble to draw up a Bill, I have good reasons for
wishing it to pass." But the old soldier, who had never feared to speak
the truth to Napoleon himself, was not to be overawed by the attempted
sternness of the feeble Bourbon. He pointed out that if all Bills
presented by the King were bound to pass, "registration would serve
equally well, since to you belongs the initiative," adding with quiet
sarcasm, "and we must remain as mute as the late Corps Legislatif." The
Chancellor stopped him as he left the King's presence, telling him he
should show more reserve and pick his words. "Sir Chancellor," said the
Marshal, "I have never learned to twist myself, and I pity the King if
what he ought to know is concealed from him. For my part, I shall always
speak to him honestly and serve him in the same manner."
When neglect of the army, the partiality shown to favourites, and the
general spirit of discontent throughout France tempted Napoleon once
again to seize the reins of government, Macdonald was commanding the
twenty-first military division at Bourges. As he says, "The news of the
Emperor's return took away my breath, and I at once foresaw the
misfortunes that have since settled upon France." Placing his duty to
his country and his plighted faith before the longings of his heart, he
remained faithful to the Bourbons. It was the Marshal who at Lyons
vainly endeavoured to aid the Count of Artois to organise resistance to
Napoleon's advance. It was he who showed the King the vanity of Ney's
boast that he would bring back the Emperor in an iron cage, who
impressed on him Napoleon's activity, and who persuaded him to retire
northwards to Lille and there attempt to rally his friends to his aid.
Ministers and King were only too thankful to leave all arrangements to
this cautious, indefatigable soldier, who supervised everything. Through
every town the monarch passed he found the same feeling of apathy, the
same tendency among the troops to cry "Vive l'Empereur," the same lack
of enterprise among the officials. Typical of the situation was the
sub-prefect of Bethune, who stood at the door of the royal carriage, one
leg half-naked, his feet in slippers, his coat under his arm, his
waistcoat unbuttoned, his hat on his head, one hand struggling with his
sword, the other trying to fasten his necktie. The Marshal, ever mindful
of Napoleon's activity, had to hurry the poor King, and Louis'
portmanteau, with his six clean shirts and his old pair of slippers, got
lost on the road. This loss, more than anything else, brought home to
the monarch his pitiable condition. "They have taken my shirts," said he
to Macdonald. "I had not too many in the first place; but what I regret
still more is the loss of my slippers. Some day, my dear Marshal, you
will appreciate the value of slippers that have taken the shape of your
feet." With Napoleon at Paris, Lille seemed to offer but little
security, and accordingly the King determined to seek safety in Belgium.
The Marshal escorted him to the frontier and saw him put in charge of
the Belgian troops. Then, promising to be faithful to his oath, he took
an affectionate farewell of the old monarch with the words, "Farewell,
sir; au revoir, in three months!"
Macdonald returned to Paris and lived quietly in his own house,
refusing to have any intercourse with Napoleon or his ministers. Within
three months came the news of Waterloo. Thereafter, against his will,
but in accordance with orders, he joined Fouche, who had established a
provisional government. Fouche, who knew the importance of outward
signs, sent him off to try and persuade the returning monarch to win
over the army by mounting the tricolour instead of the white cockade.
But the King was obstinate; the Marshal quoted Henry IV.'s famous
saying, "Paris is worth a mass." The King countered with, "Yes; but it
was not a very Catholic one." But though the King would not listen to
his advice he called on him to show his devotion. The imperial army had
to be disbanded--a most unpopular and thankless task, requiring both
tact and firmness. At his sovereign's earnest request, Macdonald
undertook the duty, but with two stipulations: first, that he should
have complete freedom of action; secondly, that he should be in no way
an instrument for inflicting punishment on individuals. Immediately on
taking up his appointment at Bourges, the Marshal summoned all the
generals and officers to his presence, and informed them that, under
Fouche's supervision, a list of proscribed had been drawn up. His advice
was that all on this list should fly at once. That same evening police
officials arrived in the camp to arrest the proscribed; playing on the
fears of the mouchards, he locked them up all night, alleging that it
was to save them from the infuriated soldiery. Thus all the proscribed
escaped; but neither Fouche nor the Duc de Berri cared to bring the old
soldier to task for this action. So the Marshal was left to work in his
own way, and by October 21, 1815, thanks to his firmness and tact, "the
bold and unhappy army, which had for so long been triumphant," was
quietly dissolved without the slightest attempt at challenging the royal
decision.
The Marshal did not mix much in politics. The King, at the second
Restoration, created him arch-chancellor of the Legion of Honour. This
post gave him considerable occupation, as it entailed the supervision of
the schools for the children of those who had received the Cross, and he
was for long happily employed in looking after the welfare of the
descendants of his late comrades-in-arms. In November, 1830, the plea of
the gout came opportunely at the moment of the commencement of the July
monarchy, and the Marshal resigned the arch-chancellorship and returned
to his estate of Courcelles, where he lived in retirement till his
death, on September 25, 1840, at the age of seventy-five.
It was a maxim of Napoleon that success covers everything, that it is
only failure which cannot be forgiven. Against the Duke of Tarentum's
name stood the defeats of Trebbia and the Katzbach. But in spite of
this, Napoleon never treated him as he treated Dupont and the other
unfortunate generals. For Macdonald possessed qualities which were too
important to be overlooked. With all the fiery enthusiasm of the Gael,
he possessed to an unusual degree the caution of the Lowland Scot.
Possessed of great reasoning powers and of the gift of seeing clearly
both sides of a question, he had the necessary force of character to
make up his mind which course to pursue, and to persevere in it to the
logical issue. In the crossing of the Vaal, in the fighting round Rome,
in the campaign with Prince Eugene in Italy, before and after Leipzig,
and in his final campaign in France, he proved the correctness of his
judgment and his capacity to work out his carefully prepared
combinations. His defeat at the Trebbia was due to the treachery of the
general commanding one of the attached divisions; the rout at the
Katzbach was primarily due to climatic conditions and to the want of
cohesion among the recently drafted recruits which formed the bulk of
his army. On the stricken field of Wagram, and in the running fight at
Hanau, his inflexible will and the quickness with which he grasped the
vital points of the problem saved the Emperor and his army.
The only black spot in his otherwise glorious career is the battle of
Leipzig. Long must the cry of "Monsieur le Marechal, save your soldiers,
save your children!" have rung in his ear. For once he had forgotten his
proud boast that he never deserted troops entrusted to his command. Like
the Emperor and his fellow Marshals and most of the generals, for the
moment he lost his nerve; but he could still, though humbly, boast that
he was the first to remember his duties and to try and save the remnant
of the troops who had crossed the Elster.
Duty and truth were his watchwords. Once only he failed in his duty;
never did he shirk telling the truth. It was this fearless utterance of
the truth more than any connection with Moreau which was the cause of
his long years of disgrace; it was this fearlessness, strange to say,
which, in the end, conquered the Emperor, and which so charmed King
Louis that he nicknamed him "His Outspokenness."
X
AUGUSTE FREDERIC LOUIS VIESSE DE MARMONT, MARSHAL, DUKE OF RAGUSA