the son of the local doctor of Limoges, Jean Baptiste Jourdan. But
sixteen years old, having been born on April 29, 1762, Jean Baptiste was
attracted to the service by the desire to see America and to aid in the
good cause against "perfide Albion." Returning to France in 1784, with
all hopes of gaining a commission dashed to the ground by Segur's
ordinance, which excluded from commissioned rank all but those of noble
birth, Jourdan took his discharge. The ex-sergeant married a marchande
de modes, and set up a small drapery shop, but so humble was this
venture that the future Marshal had to carry his stock in a valise on
his back, and trudge from fair to fair to peddle his wares. As he went
from village to village he retold his adventures and fired his listeners
with the account of the glorious freedom of the New World, comparing it
with the miserable restrictions which had driven from the army himself
and many another fine soldier. When in the autumn of 1791 there came the
call for volunteers, Jean Baptiste gladly left his counter and enlisted
in the battalion of the Upper Vienne. His experience and ability soon
marked him out for command, and he was chosen by his comrades as
lieutenant-colonel. The opportunity he had long dreamed of had at last
arrived, and he made the most of it. Methodical and industrious, with
the lessons of handling and equipping irregulars which he had had in
America, he made his battalion a pattern for the others, and was
complimented by Lafayette on the admirable condition of his command.
Serving under Dumouriez in the invasion of Belgium, he was present at
Jemappes, and there proved that, in addition to powers of organisation,
he possessed the capacity for leading in the field. Promotion came
speedily when the guillotine cleared the way in the higher ranks by
removing the incompetent and unfortunate.
By May, 1793, he had gained the grade of general of brigade; two months
later he became general of division. His first opportunity of
distinguishing himself in high command came six weeks later, when he was
entrusted by Houchard with the command of the advance guard in the
operations which ended in driving the English from the siege of Dunkirk.
So well did he execute his orders at the battle of Handschoetten that
Carnot selected him to succeed his commander when Houchard was hurried
off to the guillotine for failing to reap the full fruits of victory.
Jourdan was fortunate in that Carnot, "the organiser of victory," was
responsible for the welfare of the French arms, and not the despicable
Bouchotte. Carnot had grasped the fact that, if you are to defeat your
enemy, you must bring superior moral and physical force against him at
the decisive spot. Thanks therefore to him, Jourdan was able to mass
superior weight, and at Maubeuge hurl himself on the scattered forces of
the enemy, who were covering the siege of Valenciennes. But the victory
of Maubeuge nearly cost him his head, as that of Handschoetten had done
for his predecessor. The Committee of Public Safety, with that
incompetent rashness which those who know least of war most readily
believe to be military wisdom, ordered him to pursue the enemy and
conquer Belgium. It was in vain that he pointed out the strength of the
Allies, his want of transport and stores, and the difficulty of
undertaking a winter campaign with raw troops: reason was of no avail;
his resignation was wrathfully accepted, and he was ordered to Paris to
give an account of his actions. Face to face with the Committee, the
General renewed his arguments, explained how the old battalions of
regulars had dwindled down to some two hundred muskets apiece; how the
new levies possessed neither arms nor clothing; how some battalions were
armed with pikes, some merely with cudgels; and finished by offering, as
a proof of his zeal for the Republic, to go to La Vendee and fight
against the rebels. The truth of his statement and his obvious
disinterestedness won the day, and, though for the moment he was refused
a new command, his life was saved. Moreover, the Committee of Safety
profited by his advice, and during the winter the Army of the North was
reclothed and equipped. Thanks partly to his suggestion, the battalions
of the line were brigaded with the volunteers, and this reorganisation
produced the magnificent regiments which Napoleon found to hand when he
commenced his career in Italy.
[Illustration: JEAN BAPTISTE JOURDAN
AFTER A DRAWING BY AMBROISE TARDIEU]
Jourdan's time of inactivity was but short. He had proved his worth in
the field, and France needed every capable soldier. Moreover, he had
made open testimony of his republicanism in the Jacobin Club, swearing
before the Tribune that "the sword which he wore should only be
unsheathed to oppose tyrants and defend the rights of the people." So,
in March, 1794, he was sent to take command of a new army which Carnot
had been raising during the winter. By June this new force of one
hundred thousand, known to history as the famous Army of the Sambre and
Meuse, had established itself on the Meuse and taken Charleroi. Coburg,
the commander-in-chief of the Allies, anxious about his communications,
hurried to oppose this successful advance, and on June 25th was fought
the battle of Fleurus, which caused the Allies to evacuate France, ended
the Reign of Terror, and was the starting-point for the long period of
offensive warfare which was at last brought to an end twenty-one years
later on the field of Waterloo. At Fleurus Jourdan proved his ability as
a tactician, and the victory was due to the moral courage with which he
threw his last reserve into the fray. Backed by the Army of the North
under Pichegru, he then swept over Belgium, and by the autumn the
republican armies had crossed the Rhine.
During the next year Jourdan was engaged in the Rhine valley. But in
1796 he was ordered to advance through the Black Forest on Ratisbon, and
there join another French army under Moreau, which was moving down the
right bank of the Danube. Against this defective strategy he protested
in vain, and, as he had expected, was driven back by the able measures
of the Austrian general, the Archduke Charles. After this misfortune he
was placed on the unemployed list, and, for some time, had to find an
outlet for his energies in the field of politics. Entering the Council
of Five Hundred as the representative of the Upper Vienne, he was warmly
received by the republican party, and voted against the proposed
re-establishment of the Catholic religion, and supported the coup d'etat
of the 18th Fructidor, by which the royalist councillors were driven
into exile. Full of fiery zeal for the Republic, a rhetorical speaker
ready to appeal to the gallery, swearing on his sabre the oath of
fidelity, he nevertheless had a cool head for business, and it was at
his suggestion that in September, 1798, the celebrated law was passed
whereby conscription became the sole method of recruiting for the army.
Jourdan introduced the law with a flourish of trumpets, assuring the
Council that "in agreeing to it they had decreed the power of the
Republic to be imperishable," while as a matter of fact they were
forging the weapon which was to place their country at the mercy of the
first adventurer who had the courage and capacity to make himself
dictator. In 1799 foreign danger once again caused him to be entrusted
with a military command, and once again he was opposed by his old
adversary, the Archduke Charles, and driven back in retreat across the
Rhine. Thereon the Directory superseded him by Massena, and he returned
to the Council of Five Hundred, and in September proposed his memorable
resolution, "that the country is in danger." "Italy under the yoke, the
barbarians of the north at our very barriers, Holland invaded, the fleet
treacherously given up, Helvetia ravaged, bands of royalists indulging
in every excess, the republicans proscribed under the name of Terrorists
and Jacobins." Such were the outlines of his picture. "One more reverse
on our frontier," he added, "and the alarm bell of royalty will ring
over the whole surface of France." But France had had enough of the
Terror, and knew that she could evolve her safety by other means than
that of the guillotine. Six weeks later Bonaparte returned from Egypt.
From the advent of the Consulate a blight fell over Jourdan's career.
Napoleon could never forgive him for the obstinacy with which he had
opposed him on the 18th Brumaire. True, in 1800 he appointed him
Governor of Piedmont, and in 1804 created him Marshal. He could not
withhold the baton from the general who had in 1794 driven the enemy
from the sacred soil of France, who, more often than any other general,
had commanded in chief the armies of the Republic, and who, in spite of
numerous defeats, had established a reputation as one of the most
brilliant of the generals of republican France. But though he gave him
his baton Napoleon thought but little of his military ability, and
called him "a poor general"; for in his eyes success, and success alone,
was the test of merit, and he could see nothing in a general who, from
his capacity for emerging with credit from defeat, was surnamed "The
Anvil." But it was not this which caused Napoleon to snub the gallant
Marshal: it was his ardent republicanism and well-known Jacobin
sentiments which made him so hateful to the Emperor. But though Napoleon
treated him shamefully, and did all he could to cast him into ill
repute, the Marshal showed he had a soul above mere personal ambitions,
and served France faithfully. At St. Helena the fallen Emperor
confessed: "I certainly used that man very ill: he is a true patriot,
and that is the answer to many things urged against him." From 1805 to
1815 Jourdan's life was full of mortification. When the war broke out
against Austria in 1805 he was in command of the army in Italy, but was
at once superseded, under the plea that his health was bad, and that he
did not know the theatre of war like Massena. However cleverly the pill
was gilded, the Marshal knew that it was the Emperor's distrust which
had lost him the command. But, though Napoleon disliked him, Joseph was
his friend, and in 1806 the new King of Naples applied to be allowed to
take him with him to Italy as his major-general and chief of the staff.
When in 1808 Joseph exchanged the crown of Naples for that of Spain the
Marshal accompanied him, and when, in 1809, Napoleon hurriedly left
Spain to return to Paris, he appointed him chief of the staff to King
Joseph. The major-general's task was a difficult one. He had no
executive authority: his duty was simply to give advice to the King, and
to transmit such orders as he received; but unfortunately neither Joseph
nor he had the power to enforce orders once given, for although certain
French corps had been placed at the disposal of the King, and were
supposed to obey his orders, their commanders had still to communicate
with Berthier and to receive through him the decrees of the Emperor.
Hence there was a dual authority, and, to make matters worse, Napoleon
did not attempt to veil his contempt of Joseph's military ability. At
the same time he cast aspersions on Jourdan's skill, and showed his open
dislike to the Marshal by omitting his name from the list of French
Marshals in the "Almanack," under the pretence that he had been
transferred to the Spanish establishment and was no longer a Frenchman.
Consequently the other Marshals paid but little attention to the King or
the major-general. At the battle of Talavera Jourdan's advice was
utterly disregarded and his orders entirely neglected, and still he had
to bear the blame, and endure the whole of Napoleon's wrath. In despair,
broken down in health, he applied to be relieved of his duties, and
returned home to private life. But in 1812, when the Emperor was
summoning his vast army for the invasion of Russia, being short of
officers, he sent the Marshal back to his old post in Spain. The task
had been a hard one in 1809, it was harder still in 1812. The flower of
the French troops were now withdrawn for the Russian campaign. The
authority of the King was more feeble than ever, and years of warfare
had transformed the English army into a perfect fighting machine. The
Spaniards were now past masters in guerilla warfare, while the
iniquitous scheme of making war support war had subverted discipline and
broken the morale of the French army. With admirable lucidity the
Marshal drew up a memoir showing the state of affairs in Spain, and
pointing out what was at fault; but memoirs written for Joseph could not
alter evils which flowed directly from Napoleon's having broken the
golden canon of the "unity of command." With three practically
independent commanders-in-chief who refused to acknowledge the
controlling authority of the King, who were too jealous of each other to
work with mutual accord, disaster was bound to follow. The temporary
co-operation of all three drove the English back on Portugal at the end
of 1812. But in 1813 the disaster in Russia had caused the Emperor to
make further heavy drafts on the force in Spain. Jourdan could only
advise a steady retirement towards France. The culminating blow at
Vittoria was no fault of his. Struck down by a fever the day before the
action, he was unable to give his advice at the critical moment. So
Joseph had to fight Vittoria without the assistance of the chief of his
staff, and with subordinates who not only despised, but disobeyed him in
the presence of the enemy. It was no wonder that defeat easily turned
into rout. The whole of the French baggage was captured, and in the
flight the Marshal had the misfortune to lose his baton, which was
picked up by the 87th Regiment and sent to England.
After 1813 Jourdan's career came to a close. Napoleon heaped reproaches
on him, and refused him further employment, entirely oblivious of the
fact that it was he himself who was responsible for the Spanish
disaster, and that the Marshal had done all that was possible. On the
Emperor's abdication the old Jacobin took the oath of allegiance to King
Louis, and remained true to his allegiance during the Hundred Days. Time
had chastened and mellowed his fiery republicanism, and seeing that a
Republic was impossible, he preferred the chance of constitutional
liberty under a monarchy to the tyranny of the Empire. In 1817, as a
reward for his services, he was created a peer of France. But though he
accepted the Restoration in preference to the Empire, all his sympathies
were liberal, and no one had a greater dislike for the reactionary
policy of Charles X. In 1830 he gladly accepted the new liberal
constitution of Louis Philippe, the old Philip Egalite of the days of
Jemappes. The new monarch appointed his former comrade governor of the
Hospital of the Invalides, and there, among his old fellow-soldiers of
the revolutionary wars, the Marshal breathed his last on November 23,
1833, in his seventy-second year.
XV
CHARLES PIERRE FRANCOIS AUGEREAU, MARSHAL, DUKE OF CASTIGLIONE
The future Duke of Castiglione was born in Paris on November 11, 1757.
His father was a mason by trade and his mother, a native of Munich, kept
a furniture shop in the Faubourg Saint Marceau. From his earliest youth
Pierre Francois, handsome and long-limbed, hot-blooded and vain,
thirsted after adventure. At the age of seventeen, on his mother's
death, he enlisted in the carabineers. A keen soldier and a fine
horseman, he soon became sergeant, and within a few years gained the
name of being one of the best blades in the army; but in upholding this
reputation Sergeant Augereau constantly fell into disgrace with the
authorities. Though a blusterer by nature and full of bravado, the
sergeant was certainly no coward. On one occasion a noted professional
duellist thought that he could intimidate him. Accordingly, he swaggered
into a cafe, where Augereau was talking to some friends, and plunged
himself down on the table at which the sergeant was sitting, and,
lolling back till he almost leant against him, began to boast how, on
the previous day, he had accounted for two sergeants of the Garde
Francaise. This was sufficient insult to cause a challenge, but Augereau
preferred to let the challenge come from his adversary, and,
accordingly, undoing the leather belt of his would-be opponent, he
quietly poured the whole of a cup of scalding coffee down the inside of
his breeches. Having thus taken the upper hand of the quarrel, he so
completely mastered the spirit of the bully that he had little
difficulty in disposing of him in the duel which followed. An
unfortunate incident cut short his career in the carabineers. One day a
young officer, losing his temper with him on parade, threatened to
strike him with his whip. Thereon, Augereau in fury snatched the whip
from the officer, who at once drew his sword and attacked him. Augereau
at first confined himself to parrying, but at last, being wounded, he
thrust out and killed his opponent. The colonel, well aware that it was
not the sergeant's fault, arranged for his escape across the frontier.
After wandering about Constantinople and the Levant, Augereau passed
some years as sergeant in the Russian army, and served under Suvaroff at
the taking of Ismailia, but, getting tired of service in the East, he
deserted and escaped to Prussia. There he enlisted, and, owing to his
height and proficiency in drill, was transferred to the guards. His
captain held out hopes of a commission, but these were dashed, for when
he was brought to the King's notice Frederick asked who he was. "A
Frenchman, sire," was the reply. "So much the worse," answered the King;
"so much the worse. If he had been a Swiss, or a German, we might have
done something for him." Augereau, on hearing this, determined to quit
the Prussian service. Desertion was the only way of escape, but the
Prussians, by offering heavy rewards for recapture, had made desertion
almost impossible. Luckily, he was not the only guardsman dissatisfied
with the Prussian service, and he had little difficulty in getting
together about sixty of the boldest of the regiment, and, seizing a
favourable opportunity, he marched off his squad with their arms and
ammunition, and, beating off all attacks from the peasants and
detachments of soldiers who tried to stop them, he safely convoyed his
comrades across the frontier to Saxony. After this escapade Augereau
settled down as a dancing and fencing master at Dresden, but on the
amnesty, at the birth of the Dauphin, he returned to France and regained
his rank in his old regiment. His adventurous life and his natural
aspirations soon made him tire of always holding a subordinate position,
and in 1788 he applied to be sent, as one of the French instructors, to
help in the reorganisation of the Neapolitan army. There he soon gained
a commission. In 1791 he fell in love with the daughter of a Greek
merchant, and, as her father refused to listen to him, he quietly
married her and carried her off by ship to Lisbon. In Portugal his
freedom of speech, and approval of the changes which were happening in
France, caused the authorities to hand him over to the Inquisition, from
whence he was rescued by a French skipper and conveyed, with his wife,
to Havre.
[Illustration: CHARLES PIERRE AUGEREAU, DUKE OF CASTIGLIONE
FROM AN ENGRAVING BY RUOTTE]
Augereau returned to France ready to absorb the most republican
doctrines. His banishment, after killing the officer, had always seemed
unfair; his long subordination and the harshness of military discipline
had rankled in his soul; physically, he knew himself superior to most
men, and by his wits he had found himself able to hold his own and make
his way in nearly every country in Europe; so far birth had seemed to be
the only barrier which cut him off from success. But now caste was
hurled aside, and France was calling for talent; good soldiers were
scarce: Augereau saw his opportunity, and used it to the full. A few
months spent fighting in La Vendee taught him that renown was not to be
gained in civil war, and, accordingly, he got himself transferred to the
Army of the Pyrenees, where he rose in six months from simple captain to
general of division. From the Pyrenees he was transferred with his
division to Italy, and covered himself with glory at Loano, Millesimo,
and Lodi. But it was his conduct at Castiglione which once and for all
made his reputation; though it is not true, as he boasted in 1814 after
deserting the Emperor, that it was only his invincible firmness which
caused Bonaparte to fight instead of retreat; for Bonaparte was
concentrating to fight, and his abandonment of the siege of Mantua,
against which Augereau so wildly protested, was but part of the
preparation for victory. Though he would not listen to Augereau's
strategic advice, he had enough confidence in him to leave the first
attack on Castiglione entirely in his hands. According to the Marshal's
Memoirs, Bonaparte was afraid of attacking. "I wash my hands of it and
go away," he said. "And who will command if you go?" asked Augereau.
"You," retorted Bonaparte. And well he did his work, for not only did he
defeat the fifteen thousand Austrians at Castiglione, but he restored
the fallen confidence of his soldiers and refreshed the morale of the
whole army. Napoleon never forgot this service, and when detractors saw
fit to cast their venom at Augereau, he answered, "Let us not forget
that he saved us at Castiglione." From Castiglione onwards the soldiers
of Augereau's division would do anything for their commander. It was not
only that they respected his tactical gifts, and had complete confidence
in him in the hour of battle, but they loved him for his care of them.
In time of peace a stern disciplinarian, with a touch of the drill
sergeant, he was ever ready to hear their complaints, and never spared
himself in looking after their welfare, while in war time he was always
thinking of their food and clothing; but, above all, he gave them booty.
Adventurer as he was by nature and training, he loved the spoils of war
himself, and, while the "baggage wagon of Augereau" was the by-word in
the army, he saw to it that his men had their wagons also well loaded
with plunder. His courage was a thing to conjure with; at Lodi he had
been one of the numerous generals who rushed the bridge; but at Arcola,
alone, flag in hand, he stood on the bridge and hurled taunts and
encouragements at his struggling troops, and for three continuous days
exposed himself, the guiding spirit of every assault and forlorn hope.
While adding to his reputation as a stern and courageous fighter, a
clever tactician, and a born leader of men, Augereau's opinion of
himself increased by leaps and bounds. He was in no way surprised when,
after Leoben, Bonaparte entrusted him with a delicate secret mission to
Paris. In his own opinion no better agent could have been found in the
role of a stern, unbending republican and fiery Jacobin. Bonaparte told
him he would represent the feeling of the Army of Italy, and help to
bring to nothing the wiles of the royalists. So the general arrived at
Paris full of his mission and of his own importance, to the delight of
his father--the old mason--who saw him ride into the city covered with
gold lace to present sixty stands of captured colours to the Directory.
Once in Paris, the fighting general's threats against the Clicheans were
turned into deeds. Though he protested that "Paris has nothing to fear
from me: I am a Paris boy myself," on September 4, 1797, he quietly drew
a cordon of troops round the Tuileries, where the Councils sat, and
arrested and banished all whose political opinions opposed his own.
Relying on the promises of Barras, he now thought that he would become a
Director, in place of either Carnot or Barthelemy, who had been deposed.
But he soon found, to his sorrow, that he was not the great politician
he had believed himself to be, but merely the dupe of Bonaparte and
others, who had allowed him to clear the ground for them and to incur
the consequent odium. His immediate reward was the command of the Army
of the Rhine. Full of bitterness, he arrived at his new headquarters
"covered with gold embroidery, even down to his short boots," and
thought to debauch his soldiers and get himself accepted as dictator by
telling how, in the Army of Italy, everybody had a pocketful of gold.
But the Directory, though unable to curb a Bonaparte, had no fears of
the "Fructidor General," and very soon deprived him of his command, and
sent him to an unimportant post at Perpignan, on the Spanish frontier.