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 Médoc. 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 Hébert 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.
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 Masséna 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 rôle for the fiery Oudinot, but he played it well, and Masséna 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 Masséna, 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 Masséna, 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 Lunéville, 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 hôtel 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 Hollabrünn, 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 Neuchâtel, which had been ceded to France by Prussia, to form a fief for Marshal Berthier. The Neuchâtelois 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 Neuchâtel 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 Neuchâtel. 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 pâté 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 bâton, 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 émigrés. 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 bâton. 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 émigrés, and the administrator of Neuchâtel 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.
Old age did not change his character. Happy in his family relations, adored by his young wife, he was universally beloved, and it was with great grief that, on September 13, 1847, Royalist, Orleanist, Imperialist, and Republican learned that he whom the soldiers called "The Marshal of the Thirty-Four Wounds" had passed away.
XXIV
DOMINIQUE CATHERINE DE PÉRIGNON, MARSHAL
Among the few men of moderate opinion who were chosen in 1791 to represent their country in the Legislative Assembly was Dominique Catherine de Pérignon. The scion of a good family of Grenade, in the Upper Garonne, neither an ultra-royalist nor ultra-republican, he was a man of action rather than a talker. One year spent among the self-seekers of Paris was sufficient to prove to him that his rôle did not lie among the twisting paths of partisan statesmanship, and gladly, in 1792, he heard the summons to arms and left the forum for the camp. Now thirty-eight years old, having been born on May 31, 1754, this was not his first experience of soldiering; he had held a commission for some years in the old royal army and had served on the staff. He was, for this reason, at once elected lieutenant-colonel of the volunteer legion of the Pyrenees. His bravery and his former military training soon caused him to rise among the mass of ignorant and untrained volunteers who formed the Army of the Pyrenees. Luckily for France, she was opposed on her western frontier by an army which knew as little of war as her own, led by officers of equal ignorance, without the stimulus of burning enthusiasm and the dread power of the guillotine; had it been otherwise, Perpignan and the fortresses covering Provence would soon have been in the hands of the enemy. With all Europe threatening the eastern frontier and civil war at home, the Government could spare but few troops, and these the least trained, for the defence of the west. Accordingly, in the opening fights of the campaign ill-conceived plans and panics too frequently caused the defeat of the French, and it was often only the personal example of individuals which saved the army from absolute annihilation. From the first engagement Pérignon made his mark by his coolness and courage. The French attack on the Spanish position at Serre had been brought to a halt by the fierce fire of the enemy, and, as the line wavered, a timely charge of the Spanish horse threw it into confusion. Pérignon, commanding the first line, rushed up and seized the musket and cartridges of a wounded soldier, and collecting a few undaunted privates, quietly opened fire on the Spanish cavalry, and by his example shamed the runaways into returning to the attack. For this he was created general of brigade on July 28, 1793. By September the enemy had opened their trenches round Perpignan, and Pérignon was entrusted with a night sortie. On approaching the Spanish line a fusillade of musketry swept down five hundred of his little force, and his men at once halted and opened fire; but Pérignon believed in the bayonet. With stinging reproaches he again got his men to advance, and sweeping over the enemy's entrenchments, he drove them in rout and captured their camp. He thus won his promotion as lieutenant-general.
In November of 1794 Dugommier, the French commander-in-chief, fell mortally wounded at the battle of Montagne-Noire, and Pérignon was at once appointed his successor. Though no great strategist or tactician, he was an able leader of men, and had the faculty of enforcing obedience to his orders. Trusting entirely to the bayonet, he forced the fortified lines of Escola, making his troops advance and charge over the entrenchments with shouldered arms, without firing a shot. The fortresses of Figueras and Rosas alone barred the advance of the French into Catalonia. So demoralised were the enemy that Figueras, with all its immense stores, nine thousand troops and two hundred pieces of artillery, capitulated to a mere summons. But Rosas stood firm, covered on the land side by the fort of Le Bouton on the top of a precipice, and on the sea side swept by the guns of the Spanish squadron anchored in the roads. The fort of Le Bouton was called "l'imprenable." But Pérignon was not frightened by names; although greatly hampered by the civil Commissioners with the army, and held by them as "suspect," he determined to capture Le Bouton and Rosas. Le Bouton was dominated by a perpendicular rock two thousand feet high. It was certain that if batteries could be established on this precipice Le Bouton could be taken. But the artillerymen believed that it was impossible to construct a road to haul guns up to this height. "Very well, then, it is the impossible that I am going to do," replied the obstinate little general, and after immense toil a zigzag road was constructed and the guns hauled by hand to the summit; after a severe bombardment Le Bouton was carried by an assault. But still Rosas held out; the weather was very severe and the snow came above the soldiers' thighs, and the engineers declared that it was impossible to construct siege works unless a certain outlying redoubt was first taken. "Very well," said the general; "make your preparations. To-morrow I will take it at the head of my grenadiers." So at five o'clock the next morning, February 1, 1795, the grenadiers, with their general at their head, marched out of camp and, under a murderous fire, by eight o'clock captured the outlying redoubt, so after a siege of sixty-one days Rosas was captured. It was the personality of their general which had taught the French soldiers to surmount all difficulties. Absolutely fearless himself, full of grim determination, he taught his soldiers how to acquire these virtues by example, not by precept: ever exposing himself to danger, showing absolute callousness, until his men were shamed into following his example. On one occasion during the siege a shell fell at his feet with the match still fizzling; he was at the moment directing some troops who were exposed to the fire. The men called out to him to get out of the way of the explosion, and throw himself flat, but he paid no attention to the bomb and quietly went on giving his orders, for he knew how his example would steady his troops; meanwhile someone dashed up and extinguished the match before the bomb could explode.
The peace of Basle prevented Pérignon from gaining any further success in Spain, and the Directors, out of compliment, appointed him ambassador to the court of Madrid, where his good sense and moderation did much to strengthen the peace between the two countries. In 1799 he was sent to command a division of the Army of Italy, and commanded the left wing at the battle of Novi. While attempting to cover the rout he was ridden over by the enemy's horse, and taken prisoner with eight honourable sabre wounds on his arms and chest. When the Russian surgeon was going to attend to his wounds, thinking more of others than of himself, he said to him, "Do not worry about me; look first after those brave men there, who are in a worse plight than I." After a few months his exchange was effected and he returned to France, severely shaken in health and not fit for further active service, to find Bonaparte First Consul. Though not one of his own followers, Bonaparte recognised the services he had rendered to his country, and arranged for his entry into the Senate, and in 1802 appointed him Commissioner Extraordinary to arrange the negotiation with Spain, a delicate compliment to Pérignon, who had made his name on Spanish soil. Further to recall his Spanish victories, in 1804 the Emperor created him honorary Marshal, not on the active list, and later gave him the title of Count. But though Napoleon did not think that the Marshal was physically fit to command again in the field, he entrusted him in 1801 with the government of Parma and Piacenza, and in 1808 sent him to Naples to command the French troops stationed in the kingdom of his brother-in-law, Murat. The task was a difficult one, for Murat was no easy person to get on with, and Southern Italy, from the days of Hannibal, has been a hard place in which to maintain military virtues. But the Marshal, with his sound commonsense, gave satisfaction both to Napoleon and to King Joachim, and at the same time kept a tight hand over his troops; when, however, in 1814, Murat deserted the Emperor, the old Marshal withdrew in sorrow to France, to find Paris in the hands of the enemy. Like the other Marshals he accepted the Restoration and was created a peer of France. Being himself of noble birth, and an ex-officer of the old royal army, Louis XVIII. appointed him to investigate the claims, and verify the services of the officers of the old army who had returned to France at the Restoration. When, in 1815, Napoleon returned from Elba, the Marshal, who was at his country house near Toulouse, made every effort to organise resistance against him in the Midi. During the Hundred Days he remained quietly at his home, and on the second Restoration was rewarded with the command of the first military division, and created Marquis and Commander of the Order of St. Louis. But he did not long enjoy his new honours, for he died in Paris on December 25, 1818, aged sixty-four.