Spanish rising, he despatched his Guard to the Peninsula under the Duke
of Dantzig. But the war brought few honours to any one, and the Marshal
proved once again that he could neither act independently nor assist in
combinations with patience. He nearly spoiled Napoleon's whole plan of
campaign by a premature move against Blake, prior to the battle of
Espinosa. From Spain the Guard was hurriedly recalled on the outbreak of
the Austrian campaign of 1809. The Marshal, in command of the Bavarian
allies, did yeoman service under Napoleon's eye during the great Five
Days' Fighting. He was present also at Wagram, and immediately after
that battle was despatched to put down the rising in the Tyrol. During
the Russian campaign he once again commanded the Guard, taking part in
all the hard fighting of the advance and also in the horrors of the
retreat. Though in his fifty-eighth year the tough old soldier marched
on foot every mile of the way from Moscow to the Vistula, and shared the
privations of his men, watching over his beloved Emperor, his little
"tondu de caporal," with the care of a woman, himself mounting guard
over him at night and surrounding him with picked men of the Guard. To
add to the trials of that dreadful campaign the Duke lost at Vilna his
eldest son, a most promising young soldier who had already reached the
rank of general. This blow and the strain of the retreat were too much
for him, and he was unable to assist the Emperor in the campaign of
1813. But when the Allies invaded the sacred soil of France the old
warrior put on harness again and fought at Montmirail, Arcis-sur-Aube
and Champaubert, where he had his horse killed under him. At Montereau
he fought with such fury that "the foam came out from his mouth."
While the Marshal was spending his life-blood in the field, the Duchess
in Paris was fighting the intrigues of the royalist ladies. When an
insinuation was made that the Duke might be won over from the Emperor,
the Duchess despatched a friend to the army commanding him "to return to
the army and tell my husband that if he were capable of such infamy I
should take him by the hair of his head and drag him to the Emperor's
feet. Meanwhile, inform him of the intrigues going on here." On April
4th the end came. The Marshals refused to fight any longer, and, after
Napoleon's abdication, Lefebvre, with the others, went to Paris to treat
with Alexander. The Emperor was gone, but France remained, and it was
thanks to Kellermann and Lefebvre that Alsace was not wrested from her,
for they so strongly impressed Alexander by their arguments that he
decided to oppose the Prussians, who desired to strip France of her
eastern provinces.
The Marshal swore allegiance to the Bourbons and duly received the Cross
of St. Louis and his nomination as peer of France. With the year's peace
came time for reflection, and he began to see that "son petit bonhomme
de Sire," as he called Napoleon, had merely used him as a political pawn
in his endeavour to bind the republicans to the wheel of the imperial
chariot. Accordingly, when the Emperor returned from Elba he was not
among those who rushed to meet him. Still, although he had no personal
interview with the Emperor during the Hundred Days, he so far
compromised himself as to accept a seat in the Senate. For this conduct
he was under a cloud for the first years of the second Restoration, but
in 1819 he was pardoned and restored to his rank and office.
From 1814 to the day of his death the Duke of Dantzig spent the greater
part of his time at his estate at Combault, in the department of the
Seine and Marne, dispensing that hospitality which he and his wife loved
to shower on all who had met with misfortune, and many a poor soldier
and half-pay officer owed his life and what prosperity he had to the
generous charity of the Duke and Duchess of Dantzig. His death on
September 14, 1820, two days after that of his old friend Kellermann,
was due to dropsy, arising from rheumatic gout brought on by the strain
of the Russian campaign.
The greatness of the Duke of Dantzig lay not so much in his soldierly
capacity as in his personal character. His military renown rested
largely on his ability to carry out, without hesitation and jealousy,
the commands of others. By his personality he was able to maintain the
strictest discipline and exact the last ounce from his troops without
raising a murmur. His men loved him, for they knew that he shared all
their hardships and that his fingers were soiled with no perquisites or
secret booty. It was no empty boast when he wrote to the Directory
asking "bread for himself and rewards for his officers." Though raised
to ducal rank he never lost his sense of proportion, and delighted to
give his memories of "when I was sergeant" to his friends and to the
officers of his staff. Still, he was intensely proud of his success,
which he had won by years of hard work, and he knew how to put in their
place those whose fame rested solely on the deeds of their ancestors,
telling a young boaster, "Don't be so proud of your ancestors; I am an
ancestor myself." Though he ever looked an "old Alsatian camp boy," even
in his gorgeous ducal robes; though his manners were rough and he would
not hesitate to refuse a lift to a lady to a review, with the words, "Go
to blazes; we did not come here to take your wife out driving"--he was
the true example of the best type of republican soldier, fiery, full of
theatrical zeal, absolutely unselfish, and animated solely by love of
France.
XXIII
NICOLAS CHARLES OUDINOT, MARSHAL, DUKE OF REGGIO
Nicolas Charles Oudinot, the son of a brewer of Bar-le-Duc, was born on
April 23, 1767. From his earliest days he showed that spirit of bravado
which later distinguished him among the many brave men who attained the
dignity of Marshal. Though kind-hearted and affectionate, his fiery
character led him into much disobedience, and his turbulent nature
caused many a sorrowful hour to his parents. Still it was with sore
hearts that, despite their entreaties, they saw him march gaily off in
1784 to enlist in the regiment of Medoc. But two years later he returned
home, tired of garrison duty, and, greatly to his parents' delight,
entered the trade. When, in 1789, the good people of Bar-le-Duc began to
organise a company of the National Guard, young Oudinot was chosen as
captain, and for the next two years threw himself heart and soul into
politics, to the neglect of the brewery. But much as he approved of the
spirit of the Revolution, he was no advocate of mob rule, and he used
his company of citizen soldiers to put down all disturbances in the
town. Later still, in 1794, when invalided home from the front, he used
a short and sharp method with an enthusiastic supporter of the Terror;
in his anger he seized a large dish of haricot and effectually stopped
the praises of Hebert by hurling it in the Jacobin's face. In
September, 1791, the call to arms summoned the fire-eating captain of
the National Guard to sterner scenes. He at once entered the volunteers,
and it was as a lieutenant-colonel of the third battalion of the Meuse
that he set out on active service which was to last almost continuously
for twenty-two years, and from which he was to emerge with the proud
rank of Marshal, the title of Duke, and the honourable scars of no less
than thirty-four wounds.
[Illustration: NICOLAS CHARLES OUDINOT, DUKE OF REGGIO
FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE PAINTING BY ROBERT LE FEVRE]
His campaigning began auspiciously with the action at Bitche, when, with
his battalion of volunteers, he captured seven hundred Prussians and a
standard. The hard fighting in the Rhine valley in 1793 added greatly to
his reputation; but it was at Morlantier in June, 1794, that his gallant
action made his name resound throughout the French armies. The division
of General Ambert was attacked on both flanks. Oudinot with the second
regiment of the line formed the advance guard, but, not perceiving the
plight of the main body, he continued to advance. The enemy surrounded
him with six regiments of cavalry. Forming square, he repulsed every
assault, and ultimately fought his way back to camp with but slight
loss, and recaptured eight French standards which the enemy had seized
when they surprised Ambert's division. Ten days later he was promoted
general of brigade. But, in spite of his glorious exploit, the officers
of the regiment of Picardy, the senior regiment of the old royal army,
were disgusted at being commanded by a young brigadier, as yet but
twenty-seven years old, and sprung from the ranks. Calling the
disaffected officers together, the general thus addressed them:
"Gentlemen, is it because I do not bear an historic name that you wish
to throw me over for your old titled chiefs, or is it because you think
I am too young to hold command? Wait till the next engagement and then
judge. If then you think that I cannot stand fire I promise to hand over
the command to one more worthy." After the next engagement there were no
more murmurs against the general, and officers and men were ready to
follow him to the death. While Oudinot thus won the love and respect of
his command, he requited them with equal love. But his way of showing it
was characteristic of the man. As he used to say in later years, "Ah,
how I loved them; I know full well I loved them! I led them all to
death." For in his eyes a glorious death on the field of battle was what
the true soldier desired above all things. In August, 1794, a fall from
his horse which broke his leg placed him in hospital for some months,
and he could not return to the front till September, 1795. He arrived in
time to take part in the capture of Mannheim, but a month later, at
Neckerau, he was ridden down by a charge of the enemy's cavalry,
receiving five sabre cuts and being taken prisoner. After three months'
captivity at Ulm he was exchanged. The campaigns of 1796 and 1797 on the
Danube added to the number of his wounds. In 1799 he served under
Massena in Switzerland, and gained his step as general of division. His
new commander formed so high an opinion of his capacity that he
appointed him chief of his staff, and took him with him when transferred
to the Army of Italy. It was a new role for the fiery Oudinot, but he
played it well, and Massena gave him but his due when he wrote to the
Directory, "I owe the greatest praise to General Oudinot, my chief of
the staff, whose fiery nature, though restrained to endure the laborious
work of the office, breaks out again, ever ready to hand, on the field
of battle; he has assisted me in all my movements, and has seconded me
to perfection." During the disastrous campaign in Italy in 1800 he
earned the further thanks of his chief. He it was who broke the blockade
at Genoa, and penetrating through the English cruisers, successfully
carried the orders to Suchet on the Var, and returned to the beleaguered
city to share the privations of the army. By now his name was well known
to friend and foe alike, and his chivalrous nature was admired, even by
his enemies. But an episode occurred during the siege which, for some
time, caused his name to be execrated by the Austrians. The French had
captured three thousand prisoners during the sorties round Genoa. At the
command of Massena, Oudinot wrote to General Ott to explain that, owing
to famine, it was impossible to give them nourishment, and asking him to
make arrangements for feeding them. Ott replied that the siege would end
before they could starve. With their own soldiers dying of hunger at
their posts, the French could spare but little food for the miserable
prisoners, and when the town capitulated there was hardly one left
alive. But the burden of this calamity falls on General Ott and Massena,
and not on Oudinot, who could only carry out the orders he received.
After the surrender, Oudinot went home on sick leave, but was back in
Italy in time to take part in the last phase of the war under General
Brune. On December 26th, at Monzembano, he had an opportunity of showing
his dashing courage. An Austrian battery, suddenly coming into action,
threw the French into disorder. Oudinot dashed forward, collected a few
troopers, galloped across the bridge straight at the Austrian guns, and
captured one of them with his own hands. A few days later he was sent
home to Paris with a copy of the armistice signed on January 16, 1801.
Arriving in Paris, the general was received with great warmth by the
First Consul, who gave him a sword of honour and the cannon which he had
captured at Monzembano.
During the years of peace which followed the treaty of Luneville,
General Oudinot fell entirely under the influence of Napoleon. His
frank, chivalrous nature was captivated by the bold personality of the
Corsican, so great in war, so attractive in peace. The First Consul
rewarded his affection by giving him the posts of inspector-general of
infantry and cavalry. While not engaged in these duties, or in
attendance at the court of Paris, the general spent his leisure hours at
his home at Bar-le-Duc. There he was the idol of the populace; his bust
adorned the hotel de ville, and his fellow-citizens were never tired of
singing his praise and repeating the stories of his marvellous
adventures and daring escapades. But no one who first saw him could
believe that this was Oudinot, the hero of all these marvellous tales.
There was nothing of the swashbuckler about this aristocratic-looking
man, spare, of medium height, whose pale, intellectual face, set off by
a pair of brown moustaches, revealed a rather gentle, gracious
expression, over which flashed occasionally a fugitive smile. It was
only those piercing, flashing eyes which revealed his real character.
Still, it was easy to understand how, with his heroic exploits, he had
fascinated both friend and foe, and gained for himself the title of the
young Bayard. By his first wife the general had two sons and two
daughters. The daughters married early, Generals Pajol and Lorencz, but
it was his sons who were his pride. He had sent for his eldest boy, at
the age of eight, to accompany him on the Zurich campaign, and the lad
had at that age to perform all the duties of a subaltern officer. During
the year of peace both boys were constantly with their father, who spent
his time superintending their military studies and building for himself
a house at Bar-le-Duc. From this patriarchal life he was recalled, in
1804, to take command of the chosen division of picked grenadiers which
had been organised at Arras by Junot. The division, so well known to
history as "Oudinot's Grenadiers," or the "Infernal Column," was
composed of selected men from every regiment, and next to the Guard, was
the finest division in the imperial army. In the campaign of 1805 the
division formed part of Lannes' corps, and covered itself with
distinction at Ulm, and again at Austerlitz, where Oudinot was present,
though not in command. He had been wounded at Hollabruenn, and sent to
hospital, and his division entrusted to Duroc, the Grand Marshal of the
palace. But when he heard of the approaching engagement, the fire-eating
soldier could not be held back, and on the eve of the battle he arrived
in camp. Duroc chivalrously offered to give up command, but Oudinot, who
was satisfied as long as he saw fighting, would not hear of this. "My
dear Marshal," he said, "remain at the head of my brave grenadiers; we
will fight side by side." After the treaty of Pressburg he was sent to
Switzerland, to take possession of Neuchatel, which had been ceded to
France by Prussia, to form a fief for Marshal Berthier. The Neuchatelois
were furious at being treated as mere pawns in the game, and trouble was
expected. Fortunately Oudinot possessed great commonsense. He saw that a
timely concession might bind the proud Swiss to their new lord. The
people of Neuchatel depended almost entirely on their trade with
England, and he wrung from Napoleon the promise that this trade should
not be interfered with. So grateful were the Swiss that they passed a
law making Oudinot a citizen of Neuchatel. The general returned from his
diplomatic triumph in time to command his grenadiers in the Prussian
campaign of 1806, and gained fresh laurels at Jena, Ostralenka, Dantzig
and Friedland. At Dantzig, with his own hand, he killed a Russian
sergeant who had caught a French cavalry colonel in an ambush. At
Friedland he was with Lannes when the Marshal surprised the Russian
rear, and held them pinned against the town until Napoleon could draw in
his troops and overwhelm them. From six in the evening till twelve next
day the grenadiers fought with stubborn tenacity. At last the Emperor
arrived on the field. Oudinot, with his coat hanging in ribbons from
musket shots, his horse covered with blood, dashed up to the Emperor,
"Hasten, Sire," he cried; "my grenadiers are all but spent; but give me
some reinforcements and I will hurl all the Russians into the river."
Napoleon replied, "General, you have surpassed yourself: you seem to be
everywhere; but you need not worry yourself any more. It is my part to
finish this affair."
After Friedland came the peace of Tilsit, but even peace has its
dangers. Soult, Mortier and the grave Davout were at times carried away
by Oudinot's extravagant spirits, and used to amuse themselves after
dinner by extinguishing the candles on the table with pistol shots.
During the day the general spent his time in his favourite pursuit of
riding. His horses were always thoroughbreds, and nothing stopped him
once he had decided to take any particular line. So one day, while
attempting to jump the ditch of a fort, instead of going round by the
gate, his horse fell with him, and he broke his leg and had to be sent
home. His officers and comrades gave him a farewell dinner. At dessert a
pate appeared, from which, when opened by General Rapp, a swarm of birds
fluttered out, with collars of tricolour ribbon, with the inscription
"To the glory of General Oudinot."
On returning home the Emperor, in addition to presenting him with the
pipe of Frederick the Great, had granted him the title of count and a
donation of a million francs. With part of this sum Oudinot bought the
beautiful estate of Jeand Heurs. In 1808 he was selected as governor of
Erfurt during the meeting of the Czar and Napoleon, and had the honour
of being presented to Alexander by the Emperor, who said, "Sire, I
present you the Bayard of the French army; like the 'preux chevalier,'
he is without fear and without reproach." The year 1809 brought sterner
interludes, and Oudinot was present in command of his grenadiers during
the Five Days' Fighting, and at Aspern-Essling. On the death of Lannes
he was promoted to the command of the second corps, and in that capacity
played his part at Wagram. During the early part of the battle it took
all his self-restraint to stand still while Davout was turning the
Austrian left, but when he saw the French on the Neusiedel he could no
longer control his impatience, and without waiting orders he hurled his
corps against the enemy's centre, receiving in the attack two slight
wounds. The next day the Emperor sent for him. "Do you know what you did
yesterday?" "Sire, I hope I did not do my duty too badly." "That is just
what you did--you ought to be shot." But the Emperor overlooked his
impetuosity, and a week later rewarded him for his service by presenting
him with his baton, and a month later created him Duke of Reggio.
The Duke was fortunate in not being selected for duty in Spain. His next
service was in 1812, when he commanded a corps on the lines of
communication in Russia. This was his first independent command, and it
proved that, though a good subordinate, a dashing soldier and a capable
diplomatist, he did not possess the qualifications of a great general.
At Polotsk the day went against the French, but when a wound caused the
Marshal to hand over his command to St. Cyr, that able officer easily
stemmed the Russian advance and turned defeat into victory. The Marshal,
however, made up in zeal what he lacked in ability; a few weeks later,
hearing that St. Cyr was wounded, he hastened back to the front. It was
owing to his gallant attack on the Russians that the Emperor was able to
bridge the Beresina. But, while driving off the enemy who were
attempting to stem the crossing, he was again wounded. Thanks to the
devotion of his staff, he was safely escorted back to France and escaped
the last horrors of the retreat. In 1813 the Duke fought at Bautzen, and
after the armistice of Dresden was despatched to drive back the mixed
force of Swedes and Prussians who were threatening the French left under
Bernadotte. The action of Grosbeeren proved once again that the Duke of
Reggio had no talent for independent command, and the Emperor superseded
him by Marshal Ney, whom he loyally served. Emerging unscathed from the
slaughter at Leipzig, he fought with his accustomed fury all through
the campaign of 1814 without adding to his reputation as a soldier. On
Napoleon's abdication the Duke swore allegiance to the Bourbons, who
received him with warmth, as in the early years of the revolutionary
wars he had shown great humanity to the captured emigres. Louis XVIII.
nominated him colonel-general of the royal corps of grenadiers, and gave
him command of the third military division, with headquarters at Metz.
It was there that the Marshal first heard of the Emperor's return from
Elba. He at once set out to try and intercept his advance on Paris, but
his troops refused to act against their former leader. Thereon Oudinot
threw up his command and returned to Jeand Heurs. On his arrival at
Paris, the Emperor told his Minister of War, Davout, to summon the Duke
of Reggio to court, thinking that, like many another, he would forget
his oath to the Bourbons. But the Duke was of different stuff; he had
sworn allegiance to Louis XVIII. at Napoleon's command, but he could not
break his oath. On his arrival the Emperor greeted him with the
question, "Well, Duke of Reggio, what have the Bourbons done for you
more than I have done, that you attempted to intercept my return?" The
Marshal replied that he had plighted his oath. The Emperor told him to
break it and take service with him, recalling past favours. The Marshal
was much affected, but firm. "I will serve nobody since I cannot serve
you," he said, "but trust me enough not to spy on me with your police:
save me that degradation. I could not endure it." So the interview
ended, and the Marshal returned to Jeand Heurs.
On the second Restoration Oudinot became a great favourite of the
Bourbons. The King made him a peer of France, presented him with the
order of St. Louis, created him one of the four major-generals of the
Royal Guard and commandant-in-chief of the National Guard. When the heir
to the throne, the Duke of Berri, married a Neapolitan princess, the
second wife of the Marshal became her chief lady, and the Oudinots,
husband and wife, served the royal family with the greatest fidelity.
The Marshal once again saw service when, in 1823, he commanded the first
corps of the army which invaded Spain. It was through no fault of his
that Charles X. lost his throne, for he was patriotic enough to tell him
how unfortunate was the disbanding of the National Guard and his other
ill-advised actions.
After the fall of the Bourbon dynasty in 1830, the Duke of Reggio never
again entered public life, although in 1839 Louis Philippe created him
Grand Chancellor of the Legion of Honour, and in 1842 governor of the
Invalides. It was in this honoured position that the Duke breathed his
last on September 13, 1847, in his eighty-first year.
The Duke of Reggio was fortunate in his career; he never saw service in
Spain, and he seldom held independent command, for which his fiery
temper and impetuosity unfitted him. It was his gallantry and
intrepidity which won for him his baton. In a subordinate position he
could usually control himself enough to obey orders, in a subordinate
position also he could do good staff work, and his quick impetuous brain
teemed with ideas which were useful to his superiors. But by himself he
was lost. Napoleon well knew his shortcomings. In 1805 the Emperor was
holding a review; Oudinot's horse was restive and refused to march past,
whereon he drew his sword and stabbed it in the neck. That evening at
dinner the Emperor asked, "Is that the way you manage your horse?"
"Sire," replied Oudinot, "when I cannot get obedience that is my
method." But it was seldom that his impetuosity resulted in cruelty, and
the wounded at Friedland and in many another action had cause to bless
him. The hero of Friedland, the saviour of the emigres, and the
administrator of Neuchatel was loved not only in the French army, but
also among the enemy. At Erfurt there was a poor Saxon gardener who
delighted to cultivate a rose which he called Oudinot; when asked the
reason he replied, "The general has made me love the war which has
ruined me." The Duke of Reggio turned his face steadily against
plundering, and would reprimand any officer who recklessly rode over a
field of wheat.