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MAURICE of Saxe was one of
the numerous progeny of Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony and King of
Poland. He inherited the strength, the constitution, the abilities, and the
temperament of his gifted and vicious father. His mother was the beautiful
Aurora von Kiinigsmark, and his life, like hers, was a romance. She was the
daughter of the Count von Konigsmark who had disappeared mysteriously when,
presuming on his favour at the Court of Hanover, he had raised his eyes to a
Princess of Zell. Jewish creditors disputed the succession to his property,
when Aurora with her sisters came from Denmark to Dresden to invoke the
protection of the Saxon Elector. The amorous prince was fascinated at first
sight ; the lady surrendered after a protracted siege. It is said that at
the fete in her honour which swayed her decision she found on her plate at
the evening banquet a bouquet of precious stones of priceless value. Maurice
was born in 1696, one of a hundred or more of illegitimate children who
could claim princely paternity. But the son of Aurora von Konigsmark was the
only one who was acknowledged ; the infant had the title of Count de Saxe,
so that Maurice might be said to have been cradled on the steps of a throne
—whence, perhaps, the audacity of his conceptions, his magnificence in a
milicu where profusion was the rule, and his over-vaulting ambition. His
doting mother spoiled the boy; his father loved him for the striking
resemblance to himself, in character as well as physique. Aurora's
accomplishments might have held the affections of the volatile monarch—he
had been elected to the crown of Poland the year after Maurice's birth—had
not the consequences of a severe illness disenchanted him; but she still
retained his friendship and regard, nor had she reason to complain of his
generosity. The monarch's favourite mistress was made Abbess of the wealthy
Abbey of Quedlinburg, and she had sundry pensions to boot. The sisters of
Quedlinburg were of the Lutheran religion; Maurice was bred in that faith
and held firmly to it, which afterwards delayed his advancement in France,
when he had earned the baton of the Field-Marshal over and over again.
His military tastes were
pronounced as those of Prince Eugene, and never has there been a more
precocious boy. With a single exception he hated lessons, but as a child he
was enthusiastic over riding and fencing. That sole exception was the study
of French, as if his prescience had forecast his future. As soon as he could
mount a horse, he had accompanied his father to the Polish campaigns. When
peace was proclaimed in Central Europe, he sadly missed the excitement. When
in 1708 the allies declared war against King Louis he got permission to join
them. A boy of twelve, enlisting as a private, he marched on foot from
Dresden to the Netherlands, where he joined the King, who was then incognito
in the allied camp. His mother had been inconsolable at the parting, but she
specially confided him to the charge of Count Schulenberg, who was in
command of the Saxon contingent. Young Maurice could have found no better
mentor ; but, though he admired the Count as a master of war, unfortunately
he set small store by his moral lessons. He had gone to school besides under
Marlborough and Eugene, who noted the intelligence of their eager pupil when
they were forming the most formidable of the future generals of France.
Precocious in everything, when the allies were resting on their arms through
the winter, the boy had the first of his innumerable amours. He made himself
conspicuous in the battle of Malplaquet, and in the evening after the
frightful carnage, remarked placidly that he was well content with the day's
work.
In March 1710, hearing that
the Russians had invaded Livonia and invested Riga, he hurried from Dresden
to take part in the siege, and had a cordial reception from Peter the Great.
The fortress fell, and satisfied, as he said, with having received the
approbation of so glorious a leader, that he might miss no possible chance
he hastened west to the Low Countries. At the sieges of that summer he
exposed himself with such foolhardiness as to have warning or rebuke both
from Marlborough and Eugene. Marlborough said that none but a man who knew
not what danger was would do what he did, and Eugene told him that with
connoisseurs of experience, recklessness could never pass for courage. No
warnings of the kind had any weight. In 1711, when he was campaigning with
the King against the Swedes in Pomerania, he swam the Sound in sight of the
enemy, with a pistol in his teeth, when three and twenty of his soldiers
were shot in the crossing. Soldiering had ever a greater fascination for him
than love-making. In the winter, the King, delighted with his military
spirit, gave him a newly-raised regiment of horse as a plaything. Maurice
was indefatigable in mounting, drilling, and disciplining his men, and was
so highly satisfied with the results that he longed to lead them into
action. His desires were gratified in the spring, when the war was renewed
in Pomerania. The Saxons were beaten, but Maurice distinguished himself by
the skill and spirit with which he handled his regiment ; his dispositions
in repeated charges and the adroitness with which he managed the retreats
were praised alike by the Saxon and the Swedish generals. Already, with all
his hot-headed valour he had the eye and cool decision of a veteran.
It may be doubted whether the
best and most beautiful of wives would have steadied him, but when he was
married to a girl of fifteen, his mother's choice was an unhappy one. It was
no love match when in his nineteenth year he wedded the Countess de Lobin.
The young lady was a great heiress, but she was as careless of the marriage
vows as her husband, and they soon parted, not by divorce, but by mutual
consent.
Next year there was nothing
notable, except a narrow escape from death or captivity, in which tactics
and daring served him well. Travelling to the army with five officers and a
dozen of attendants, he was beset in an inn by a Polish horde belonging to a
faction opposed to his father and bitterly envenomed against the son. The
little party blocked doors and windows, and stood on their defence till
their ammunition had given out and things looked desperate. A sally seemed
hopeless, but Maurice told his followers it was their only chance, for no
quarter was to be expected.
The night was falling, and
there were woods hard by where they might find safety. They rushed the
enemy's advanced guard, who had dismounted ; seized their horses, cut a
passage through the rest, reached the woods, and made their way to a Saxon
garrison. Maurice would have been sadly disappointed had mischief befallen
him then, for he was hastening to the siege of Stralsund, where he hoped to
see the hero, Charles the Twelfth, who was directing the defence in person.
His wish was gratified, for one day, being with the stormers of a horn-work,
he met Charles face to face, who was fighting at the head of his grenadiers.
The meeting and the noble bearing of the King left an abiding impression,
for Maurice always venerated his memory.
Prince Eugene's campaign
against the Turks was an irresistible temptation. Maurice was one of the
last of the princes and young nobles who flocked to the Prince's camp, and
he was the last to take reluctant leave when he saw no hope of further
distinction. He had come in time for the siege of Belgrade. Before the great
battle he lost no opportunity of being out with the light horse who faced
the clouds of skirmishing Spahis, and again there was many an occasion to
rebuke him for his rashness. His father had the more readily given him
permission to go to the Danube, that the hot-headed youth had got into hot
water at Dresden. The death of the Electress Dowager had lost him a powerful
protectress, who had always taken his part against the minister who had the
ear of the King and was the inveterate enemy of Saxe and his mother. There
were incessant complaints from his wife, to whom he had given too good cause
of jealousy. Their cool relations had ended in mutual aversion, and in 1720
Maurice took flight for the congenial Paris of the Regency. He was a man
after the Regent's own heart, and soon ranked high among his roués.
Excelling all his rivals in the success and excess of his amours, no one of
them drank or played deeper, and the recklessness of his gambling was the
more admired that his means were notoriously limited. Yet with his folly was
mingled much worldly wisdom. The Regent offered his joyous boon-companion
employment in France. Maurice answered very sensibly that there was nothing
he should desire more, but he must first have the sanction of his father.
The sanction implied the means of keeping up a suitable establishment, and
Maurice went to Dresden to obtain it. The Regent by way of recommending the
request, paid him the extraordinary compliment of giving him the brevet of
Marechal de Camp, as an earnest of what he might expect if the errand to
Dresden were successful.
Matters did not arrange
themselves so easily as Saxe would have desired. The King made many sensible
objections, though he does not seem to have laid stress on the renunciation
of German nationality. Two years were to pass before the return to France,
and it was partly delayed by his fixed determination to get rid of his wife.
Seldom has a divorce been carried out on such terms, though they were
entirely in keeping with his character. Divorce could only be granted on
proof of adultery, and the guilty party incurred the death penalty. The
lawyers saw no way out of the difficulty. Maurice took the matter into his
own hand: was caught in flagrant &lit, divorced, duly condemned by the
courts, and pardoned by the gracious mercy of the sovereign. Back in Paris
in the spring of 1722, he found none of the foreign regiments vacant, so he
bought the regiment of Spar, which was sold him dear, and began immediately
to reform it and remodel the system on that which had answered so well with
his corps in Saxony. But France being then in an interlude of peace, for
three years while keeping open house and maintaining his reputation for
dissipation among the most debauched, he amused what leisure he could spare
from folly in prosecuting his studies in the science of war.
Events which gave him the
chance of his life roused him from his lethargy. In December 1725' Ferdinand
of Courland, last male of the old ducal dynasty, fell dangerously ill.
Courland was a sovereign state, though depending on Poland, and now it was
rumoured that the Polish Diet had decided to annex it. Patriotism and
religion in Courland were alike alarmed. The Lutherans would be subjected to
the Catholic hierarchy, and the State would be split into Palatinates ruled
by popish Palatines. The Courland Diet hastily assembled to elect an adjunct
and successor to their moribund Duke. It is doubtful by whom the idea of
Saxe's candidature was broached; some say by Brakel, a patriotic Courlander;
others by Lefort, the scheming Saxon envoy at St. Petersburg. Saxe grasped
gladly at the proposal. The Courlanders never doubted that it would be
agreeable to his father, as it was; but they hardly reckoned with the
opposition of the Polish Diet. However, Saxe having assured himself of his
father's consent, hastened to Mittau, the capital of the duchy. The Diet
welcomed him with open arms, and the populace cheered him to the echo when
he rode through the streets. He came with the reputation of the most
brilliant libertine and dashing officer of the day, which recommended him to
the good graces of Anne, daughter of the elder brother of Peter the Great
and widow of the late Duke. Anne was generally beloved, and had great
influence. The gallant adventurer probably never had an idea of marrying
her, nevertheless he made proposals in form, and was conditionally accepted.
Meantime he had been taking more active measures. The sinews of war had been
found by a joint-stock company of French speculators, and his devoted
mistress, the famous actress, Adrienne le Couvreur, had contributed the
whole of her plate and jewels. The fund gave out at Liege, where recruiting
had been going briskly forward, but not before 800 men had been enlisted.
When his recruits reached Mittau, Saxe had announced the confirmation of his
election —formally to the Polish Primate, secretly, with all confidential
details, to his father. Meantime, however, the match with Anne had
miscarried, if it had ever been seriously intended. Another Russian princess
was in the marriage market, and the indefatigable Lefort had changed his
views. He wrote from St. Petersburg, painting in glowing colours the charms
of the Princess Elizabeth, and protesting that she was as much in love with
Saxe, or with his reputation, as the Duchess Anne. Never did a man of such
boundless ambition more narrowly miss a pinnacle of greatness to which even
Saxe had never aspired. He had the chance of marriage with either of two
future Empresses: he might have been the Tsar, or at least the omnipotent
dictator of Muscovy. He hesitated with no fixed intentions, and so slipped
between the two stools. For the moment he was leaning upon the Duchess Anne,
and went to Warsaw instead of to St. Petersburg.
The King secretly favoured
him ; the Polish Diet was firm against the candidature. His illegitimate
sisters, canvassing actively for him, did him the more harm that their
influence was great. Polish patriots raised the cry that the King, having
bled the treasury to enrich his bastards, now proposed to alienate Polish
possessions to create principalities for them. Augustus had no idea of
risking his crown that Maurice might be Duke of Courland. He had given his
son letters for the Empress Catherine, then he reconsidered his decision.
Maurice was stopped on the point of starting, and when told that the royal
order was imperative, lie said he had no mind to disobey, but if the journey
were countermanded all was lost. And so it proved. He set out all the same,
but it was to carry on the campaign in Courland. He was still the favourite
of the fickle Courlanders, but a formidable Russian candidate was in the
field after sundry others of princely birth had been rejected. The
all-powerful Menschikoff was at Riga to urge his own cause, and had brought
12,000 soldiers to back him. He pressed his claims with threats rather than
flatteries. Speaking as the mouthpiece of his mistress, he threatened the
Marshal of the Diet and the leading members with a journey to Siberia if
they did not annul the election of Maurice. Saxe, on his part, exclaimed
bitterly that he had found open arms, but no open purses. His money had run
short, and he had only a few squadrons of mercenary dragoons. Menschikoff
sent the Diet an ultimatum when Maurice was vainly urging them to vigorous
defence. But the Russian was a man of action, as Saxe had reason to know.
He was in his quarters, and
deep in an embarrassing letter from the Primate of Poland, when he was
disturbed by a stir in the street. He looked out, to see the house beset by
soldiers. He realised at once that it was a coup of his enemy, and made
preparations for defence as on the former occasion at Crachnitz. With his
little garrison of sixty men he made determined resistance, till the firing
and the clamour had roused the town. The citizens rushed to arms, the
enamoured Duchess sent her guards to his help, and Menschikoff's baffled 800
beat a retreat. It was a near thing, for undoubtedly had Maurice been taken,
he would have had summary despatch to Siberia, and would probably have
happened to die en route. As it was, he was landed in another complication,
for, as his quarters had suffered severely in the assault, the Duchess
insisted on housing him in her palace.
The Polish Diet had summoned
him for contumacy ; on his declining to appear as owing no allegiance to it,
he had been outlawed and a price set upon his head. The sentence sat lightly
on him. He went to Dresden, got some money there, and, returning to Mittau,
raised a bodyguard of a few hundreds. It was money wasted, for the Polish
Diet sent commissioners charged to have him arrested, and he could put no
faith in the constancy of the Courlanders. He picked up the Flemish troopers
he had left at Dantzic, and, taking shipping for the island of Usmaiz, set
to work to fortify it. The death of the Empress Catherine left the Regent
Menschikoff for the moment master of Russia, and made him indifferent to the
dukedom of Courland. It changed nothing so far as Saxe was concerned. A
declaration dictated to the young Tsar and addressed to the Diet suggested a
choice of candidates from which Saxe was excluded. Virtually a command, it
was enforced by a Russian army. The stroke was decisive. Saxe had but a
handful of troops, his credit was exhausted, and he was out of the good
graces of the Duchess Anne; yet, characteristically, though he beat a
retreat, he did not altogether despair. The death of young Peter and the
unexpected elevation of the Duchess to the Russian throne revived his
drooping hopes. But his amours, carried on, and scarcely sought to be
concealed, under the roof of the woman who had been foolishly in love with
him, were neither to be forgotten nor forgiven. Anne was implacable, though
his agents strove hard to conciliate her.
Dissipating in Paris in 1732,
his excesses brought on a serious illness. During his slow recovery he
devoted his time to the composition of the very remarkable "Reveries." They
show the man as he might have been had he concentrated himself on his grand
passion of ambition, in place of indulging in a multiplicity of those
fugitive amours, where he generally, as was his fashion, took the place by
storm. They were wonderful studies of the science of war, where the
practical blends with the sentimental or romantic. They anticipate the
modern idea of bringing the whole manhood of a nation under arms instead of
recruiting the ranks from mercenaries and the scum of the populace. All for
improvised redoubts, he condemns the elaborate entrenchments and fortified
camps then universally in vogue, saying that with the best troops in the
world they bring apprehension of defeat in place of confidence of victory.
He anticipated the
irresistible elan the great Frederick gave to his armies—though the abuse of
these tactics sometimes cost the Prussians dear—and the advances in echelon,
superseding column-shock, which staggered generals of the older school and
compensated for inferiority in numbers. And descending to details, he
denounced the showy but unserviceable uniforms, unfitted alike for work and
rough weather, parsimoniously doled out at long intervals by captains who
filled their pockets at the cost of their companies.
The death of his father broke
one of the strongest ties which still held him to the land of his birth. It
did more, for the vacancy embroiled the affairs of Europe. France, in spite
of the pacific efforts of Fleury, on an understanding for division of the
spoils with Spain and Savoy, heedlessly plunged into war out of sheer
jealousy of Austria. But the triumvirate of Powers was far from the Polish
frontier, and the Saxon Elector's claims to the paternal succession ,were
supported by his powerful neighbours. It shows the estimate in which Saxe's
military talents were already held, that his brother offered him the command
of the Saxon army. It was a tempting offer, but, whatever the reason, it was
declined. Probably Saxe was already a Frenchman at heart, seeing broader
fields for his ambition in France than in Poland.
He returned to place himself
at the head of his regiment. He was with Berwick on the Rhine and with
Belleisle on the Moselle. Everywhere he displayed his reckless daring and
the talent that was more highly appreciated. When Belleisle was besieging
Coblenz the slow operations palled on him; he asked and obtained leave to
join Berwick, who was advancing to drive the Imperialists out of their lines
at Etlingen. Berwick received him with a flattering compliment. "Count, I
was going to ask M. de Noailles for 3000 men, but you alone are worth more
to me than that reinforcement." The speech was followed by another
compliment more to Saxe's tastes, for he was given a detachment of
grenadiers, with orders for an immediate onslaught on the lines. He forced
the positions of the enemy, captured their guns on that side, and thereby
decided the result of the operations. It would be tedious to recount all the
exploits where he would seem to have risked himself under the safeguard of a
special Providence. For special gallantry at Philipsbourg, following on the
affair of Etlingen, he was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant- General. When
he returned to Paris for the winter, he had been preceded by Belleisle, who
had been generous in his praises of the man of whom d'Asfeldt, who had
succeeded Berwick, had spoken as his right hand.
Peace sent him back to his
studies and his loves, There were fetes and festivities at the betrothal of
a French princess to Don Philip of Spain. At a hunting luncheon at Chantilly
the son of Augustus the Strong had an opportunity of showing himself the
heir of his father's strength. Corkscrews had been forgotten. Saxe took a
tenpenny nail, and twisting it round his finger, drew all the corks. Indeed,
when halting at a village, he is said once to have astonished the rustics by
snapping half-a-dozen of horseshoes while the farrier was shoeing his horse.
The garrison of Paris at that time was perpetually getting into trouble with
the burghers on whom they were billeted. Always interested in military
discipline, Saxe submitted a paper to the Minister of War, recommending a
novelty—the building of barracks. The minute was approved, but it was
shelved through the practical difficulty that two- thirds of the Guards were
married men with families—a strong argument, as Saxe remarked, for his own
system of recruiting. Perhaps the most flattering tribute he ever received
was in 174o, when, in course of a tour in the south, he visited Toulon.
Admiral Matthews, of court-martial notoriety, was then blockading the port.
Count Saxe asked the Admiral's permission to view the British fleet. The
Admiral sent his own galley to convey the illustrious guest. The fleet,
dressed out in colours, received him with a general salute. There was a
grand banquet on board the flagship ; the Kings of France and England were
repeatedly toasted, and each time the glasses were emptied there was a salvo
from all the guns of the ships.
That year saw almost
simultaneously the deaths of the Emperor Charles and the Empress Anne. Saxe,
with his spasmodic tenacity, had never lost sight of the ducal crown of
Courland. The latter event, with the fall of his enemy, the omnipotent Biron,
sent him incognito to St. Petersburg to strive to knit up the broken threads
of the old intrigues. He came back disappointed from a bootless errand to
gather fresh laurels in new fields. The death of Charles had given the
signal for war, reviving the eternal animosity between Bourbon and Hapsburg.
France, as before, had found an ally in the Elector of Bavaria, who was
advancing pretensions of his own to the Empire. In August 1741 Saxe joined
the allied army under the Elector in Alsace. Though there were some sharp
skirmishes, the march to St. Polten on the Danube was rather a military
promenade. Then the alarm in the Kaiserstadt was relieved by the news that
the victorious advance had been diverted to Bohemia. On the 23rd of October,
Saxe with the van-guard had occupied I3udweis. At the same time the
Prussians and Saxons were entering Bohemia from the north. The Elector had
only been feinting on Vienna, and Maria Theresa, suddenly undeceived, was
hurrying belated succours into Bohemia. Meanwhile the Elector was within
striking distance of Prague, and had sent the governor a summons.
The answer was that he could
not be expected to surrender before trenches had been opened or a cannon
fired. The Elector responded by an attack, without waiting for his
artillery. There was a feint on one side to divert attention; on another the
actual onslaught was entrusted to Saxe. He led it with his accustomed
daring, but has certainly been over-praised It cannot have been a very
serious affair, when not a Frenchman was killed and only two were wounded.
However, he was in the centre of the city, and had taken over 3000
prisoners, when the feigned attack, changing to a real one, carried it
effectually from the other side. Next morning, as master of the place, he
presented the keys to the Elector. The Bavarian had a welcome from the
nobles, and was solemnly crowned. His reply to Saxe's congratulations was
sarcastic, epigrammatic, and prophetic. Doubtless he remembered the
unfortunate Winter-King. "Yes, I am King of Bohemia as you are Duke of
Courland." He was to wear another illusory diadem when elected Emperor in
the Imperial Diet at Frankfort, with the style of Charles VII. The war went
on. Emperor or Elector, he withdrew to the Lower Palatinate, and when, after
its suspension through the winter it recommenced in the spring, Saxe was
with Marshal Broglie in Bohemia. He was detached with 12,000 men to assail
the important fortress of Eger—memorable in the fall of Wallenstein—where
the Austrians had their arsenal and magazines. Eger capitulated, though it
was deemed so strong that Prince Charles had not troubled to march to its
relief, and its fall raised Saxe's reputation far higher than the somewhat
theatrical escalade of the fortifications of Prague.
Then a political revolution
gave check to the French and Bavarians. Frederick of Prussia made peace with
the Queen of Hungary, carrying the Saxons along with him. To the
remonstrances of the French envoy, he cynically replied that with Silesia he
had got everything he wanted. The Queen could turn her whole strength
against the invaders. Swarms of Croats, Uhlans, and Pandours ravaged
Bavaria. The evacuation of Bohemia became inevitable. The French army
encamped under the batteries of Prague began to bethink themselves of making
terms. Versailles in alarm gave the generals full powers, but the Austrians
saw their advantage and pressed it. The tables were turned, and now 22,000
Frenchmen were to be beleaguered in Prague. They held out gallantly, but
their sallies were repulsed, and provisions rose to famine prices. News of
the advance of Marshal Maillebois gave them a breathing space; Broglie broke
out with half the garrison to make a junction with Maillebois, which he
never effected; Belleisle, finding the situation desperate, left with the
rest, keeping his secret to the last moment, and reaching Eger in safety
with baggage and artillery. With the glorious defence and the admirably
conducted retreats which saved the wrecks of the once victorious army, Saxe
was not concerned. He had gone to Dresden and thence to St. Petersburg on
private business, and on his return as Prague was straitly shut up, he
joined Maillebois on the Danube. Though Broglie had failed in the junction
with Maillebois he made his way personally by a circuitous route to that
Marshal's headquarters and assumed the command. He found Maillebois' forces
almost in as bad a state as his own, and wisely, perhaps, as soon as
possible withdrew into winter quarters between the Inn and the Iser, sending
Saxe into cantonments beyond the Danube. The fiery spirit of Saxe was
disgusted at the evacuation of Bohemia and the abandoning of Eger, which he
regarded as a conquest of his own. He wrote his remonstrances to Broglie in
a tone rather that of an equal or superior than of a subordinate, and
Broglie, who was a martinet and tenacious of purpose, very naturally
disregarded them.
In 1743, when King Louis was
eager to retrieve his defeats and misfortunes, it was a question of
enrolling civic militia and raising new armies. Saxe, who had had reason to
appreciate the Austrian light horse, had undertaken to recruit a regiment of
Uhlans. But so great was the con-fidence Louis reposed in him, that to
smooth the way to his advancement he withdrew all officers senior to him
from the army in Bavaria. Broglie was still general-inchief, but Saxe had
the command in the Upper Palatinate. When Dettingen had been fought and
lost, the armies of Broglie and Noailles were united to mount guard on the
Rhine. Saxe had to yield his command to Marshal Coigny, but with the great
exception of Dettingen, which but for the folly of the Duke de Grammont
should have been a French victory, there was nothing in the campaigns of
1743 to respond to the formidable preparations.
Nor was the campaign of 1745
in the Austrian Netherlands more pregnant with decisive results. Saxe, who
was to second De Noailles, had been consulted and had sketched out a
programme. But before the performance came off, there was an interlude and a
fiasco. The advisers of Louis were persuaded by Jacobite agents that the
English were longing for the return of the Stewarts, and that an invasion
might be successful. So at least it has been supposed, although there are
indications that the operations were nothing more than a feint, Prince
Charles Edward was invited from Rome to Paris. Fifteen thousand men were
mustered on the Channel to embark at Dunkirk. Saxe was to have the command,
with secret orders to land them on the Thames, when London and Kent were to
receive them with acclamations. As to that, it does not appear that Saxe was
consulted. The squadron which was to clear the Channel was to be under
Admiral de Roquefeuille. He sailed from Brest, to be baffled by contrary
winds, and meantime the British cruisers had brought warnings of his
movements. Seeing no enemies, he sent messages to Dunkirk, urging Saxe to
embark his men with all speed. Half the corps of invasion, with masses of
war material, were hurried on board the transports, Saxe and the Young
Chevalier being in the same ship. But meantime De Roquefeuille's frigates
had told him that Sir John Norris had only shifted from Spithead to the
Downs, and that his fleet was actually bearing down on the French squadron.
De Roquefeuille crowded all sail for Brest; his fleet was greatly
outnumbered by the other; light winds freshened to a gale, and the gale rose
to a storm. No news of his flight had reached the trans-ports, but perhaps
the storm which sent several to the bottom saved them from worse disaster.
Saxe and the survivors were landed and the expedition was at an end.
For four years,
notwithstanding liberal English sub-sidies, the battle of Dettingen, and
this hostile expedition, France and Britain had been nominally at peace. The
year 1744 opened with formal declarations of war. The French king was to
take the field in person ; Noailles had trumped the tricks of those who were
intriguing against him, and his friend and pupil Saxe at last received the
baton of Marshal. The army of invasion was in two parts; Noailles with one
was to push the sieges of the Flemish fortresses, and to Saxe was entrusted
the covering operations. With the eye of a great strategist he chose his
position at Courtrai. There he made his works unassailable, while at the
same time he could make diversions in all directions to distract the
attentions of the allies to De Noailles. The French generals were aided, no
doubt, by the dissensions in the hostile camp. Marshal Wade was a good
soldier, but no genius, and he had neither the suave tact nor the masterful
spirit of Marlborough. He was hampered at every turn by his Austrian and
Dutch colleagues. The allies everywhere outnumbered the French by three to
two, and the odds became infinitely greater when Prince Charles of Lorraine
broke into Alsace, drawing away the Duc d'Harcourt with his strong
detachment. But the allies dared not attempt the storm of Saxe's
entrenchments, nor could they lure him out to offer battle. The enforced
inactivity must have been a sore strain on his fiery temperament, but he
clung to Courtrai and his fixed plan, and saved a perilous situation where a
mistake might have meant a catastrophe. His persistence starved the allies
out, forcing them to withdraw, and it was famine at last which compelled him
to abandon Courtrai. Perhaps the happiest of his menacing demonstrations was
when he brought his enemies to a point, that he might know whether they
intended to retreat or attack, and when it was imperative that his own
action should be guided by their decision. Nor was the time while in the
lines of Courtrai wasted, for he was busily drilling his troops and training
them to the disciplined obedience which won the battle of Fontenoy.
In 1745 the coalition against
France was so formidable that Louis would willingly have signed a peace —
the rather that the deaths of the shadowy Emperor Charles and of his staunch
friend, the Bavarian Elector, had left him neither reason nor pretext for
interfering in German affairs. The young Elector had deserted him, yielding
to force majeure and an Austrian invasion. So the King would gladly have
come to terms, but the Queen of Hungary was obdurate. The war was to go on;
the storm was to burst on his northern fortresses, and the sole question was
which was to be attacked first. All the allied generals had been changed;
the youthful Duke of Cumberland, eager for honour, had replaced the veteran
Wade, and he was on the best terms with his colleagues. The old Austrian
Marshal was complaisant, and the young Prince of Waldeck was venturesome as
himself. The danger to France was fully realised, and for once the
backbiters of Versailles were silenced. Saxe was nominated
commander-in-chief with universal assent or acquiescence, and the Duc de
Noailles set a noble example by volun-teering to serve under his former
pupil. At the critical moment Saxe again paid the penalty of his excesses,
and was stretched on a sick-bed. But the spirit and the love of glory
triumphed over disease ; he defied the doctors, and set out for Flanders,
saying in reply to remonstrances that it was not a question of living but of
leaving. When he reached his headquarters at Maubeuge he was still so ill
that he had to be carried about on his rounds of inspection in a litter.
Fortunately he found a canon of Cambrai who put him on a regimen which soon
enabled him to mount a horse.
His strength was 70,000 foot
and 25,000 horse. His purpose was to deceive the allies, and for a time he
succeeded. Making a show of menacing Mons in force, he marched straight upon
Tournai. A masterpiece of the science of Vauban, it was one of the most
formidable fortresses in Europe. Tournai was to be the stake of the battle
of Fontenoy, for if it fell it opened French Hainault to the invader. When
the allies began to realise that it was the real objective of Saxe, their
hesitation had wasted time, and they were delayed besides by the deluges of
rain which swamped the country except the paved chaussZes. They marched from
Brussels, gathering in garrisons on the way, and the march, even for those
days, was a miracle of slowness. Saxe, with prompt knowledge of all their
movements, had ample time to make his arrangements. His position before
Tournai, naturally strong, was strengthened according to the rules he had
laid down in his "Réveries." The village of Fontenoy, to the south of the
Scheldt, was at once recognised on both sides as the key of the defence.
From the first it was the aim of the allies to carry it; of the French to
hold it at any cost ; and at Fontenoy the battle was to be lost or won.
There were ridges stretching thence to the left and right. That to Saxe's
left, from Fontenoy to the wood of Barri, which the allies unfortunately
neglected to occupy when they had the opportunity, was 620 yards in length.
The ridge on the right led to the village of Antoing on the right bank of
the Scheldt and five miles from Tournai. Antoing was also in the woodlands,
and was protected by inundations, but besides that it was formidably
entrenched; some of the cottages were levelled to make plateaux for the
artillery, and the others were loopholed. As to his left the Marshal's mind
might be easy ; it was covered by marshes and almost impenetrable thickets.
Yet with his usual caution, everywhere he had thrown out advanced pickets
and patrols of the light horse of the regiment of his trusted lieutenant De
Grassins. Saxe had no great faith—it was always a weapon used against him by
his detractors—in the steadiness of Frenchmen in line against a determined
onset. In his "Reveries" he had ridiculed entrenched camps, and advocated
the use of improvised redoubts. At Fontenoy he put those principles in
practice. Between Antoing and the Barri Wood was a chain of redoubts, three
to the right of Fontenoy and as many to the left of it. They were connected
with abattis of felled timber. All the redoubts were heavily armed with
cannon ; but the strongest was that next to Fontenoy on the left, known as
the redoubt of Eu because it was held by the Eu Regiment; for the passage
between the Eu redoubt and Fontenoy was notoriously the weakest point in the
defence. Nor did the Marshal neglect to secure his rear or his retreat.
Twenty thousand men in the trenches held the garrison of Tournai, and two
fortified bridges had been thrown across the river.
Louis himself was in the
field, and unaccompanied by ladies. A summons sent to Douai had hastily
called him to the front. He came, and for once he showed something of
manhood. He visited the sick in hospital; he con-descended to taste the
ammunition bread. On the eve of the battle he rode with Saxe along the
lines, hailed by voci-ferous shouts of "Vive he Roi." They cheered the
monarch, not the general, but it was a striking counterpart of the salvos
and leux de bivouac which greeted Napoleon on the eve of Austerlitz. Saxe's
dispositions had been made, though in some trifling respects they were to be
modified. The pick of his men were between Fontenoy and the Eu redoubt.
These were battalions of the Regiment of Le Roi, of the Gardes Francaise,
and of the Gardes Suisse. Behind them were the cavalry, four ranks deep, and
beyond these again the famous horse of the Royal Household. The reserves
were on the left flank, in rear of the wood of Barri, and in the first line
were the regiments of the Irish Brigade, mustering nearly 4000 men.
Late on the gth May the
allies were almost in touch with the French, pitching the camp on the
heights commanding their positions. The same evening the generals rode out
to reconnoitre. They saw the ground mapped out below them, and shaped their
plans, deciding on the true point of attack. As a preliminary the village of
Veyon, a fortified advance post of Fontenoy, was to be taken, and that was
done on the following morning. They burned another fortified hamlet and won
the first trick of the game.
On the night of the loth both
armies lay on their arms. Broken by fatigue and scarcely convalescent, after
the long promenade on horseback with the King, Saxe retired not to his tent
but to his coach to snatch some necessary sleep. All his preparations have
now been made, and his 50,000 are behind his formidable works. For himself,
he is unable to mount a horse ; he is carried, a cripple, from point to
point, suffering acutely from dropsy and parched with unquenchable thirst.
The allies, on their side, were early astir ; the reveille sounded at two,
and at four Cumberland and Count Konigsegg were riding along their lines.
Cumberland had to curb his impatience, for the battle-ground was veiled in a
heavy mist. His simple plan was marked out for him. The Dutch and Austrians
were to assail Antoing on the left. The right attack was en-trusted to
Colonel Ingoldsby of the Guards, and in his brigade were the Black Watch and
a crack Hanoverian regiment. The Duke himself was to strike with British and
Hanoverians at the vital gap between Fontenoy and Veyon. The advance should
have been simultaneous, but it was not till six that the sluggish Ingoldsby
was in motion. Then he came to a dead halt in a hollow lane, between Veyon
and Barri Wood. He sent back for cannon and he had them ; order after order
reached him, but still he stuck fast or only moved forward to halt again.
Cumberland galloped off in person to discover the cause of the delays, but
nothing came of his conversation with Ingoldsby. The brigade was still in
that hollow lane, though the guns had been searching the wood of Barri,
which was held in doubtful force, but strongly defended by the abattis.
Cumberland would wait no longer. Four cannon shot gave the expected signal.
The Dutch cavalry on the left advanced on Fontenoy and Antoing, but
en-countered such a scorching fire that they turned bridle and rode back.
Nor had the British horsemen to the right of the centre attack any better
fortune. No sooner had they emerged from the street of Veyon than they were
beaten back by the murderous storm of grape and round shot from the
batteries of Fontenoy and the redoubt of Eu. Re-formed by their leaders in
the rear of the infantry, Cumberland never asked anything of them till too
late, and thenceforth they were virtually out of the battle.
All the work was left to the
central attack, directed on the points whence the murderous cannonade was
con-verging, and the constancy neither of the chiefs nor their soldiers was
shaken by the discomfiture on either flank. The fiery veteran Ligonier led
his foot over the track of Campbell's horse through the street of Veyon.
When they emerged, as the cavalry had emerged, into the blasting fire, they
deployed and formed into line of battle as coolly as if they had been on
parade at Hounslow. Yet the manoeuvring was slow and lasted long; four hours
had elapsed before they were in array of battle. At last began the memorable
advance of the immortal column of Fontenoy. Ingoldsby still lagged, and both
columns of the Dutch and Austrian infantry had recoiled before the fire from
Fontenoy, and were raked besides by batteries from beyond the Scheldt. All
that passed had only hardened the determination of Cumberland. The gap above
him must be forced, and the redoubt of Eu must be captured at any cost. Then
he abandoned his right attack, and brought his right wing along the slopes
under the incessant fire, anticipating a movement of Wellington at Vittoria.
The Black Watch was sent to the left, to stiffen the Dutch, who had orders
to try again. The Prince of Waldeck was hot enough, but even with the
example of the Highlanders he could not animate his men. The Highlanders,
weary of standing helpless under a galling fire, crossed at the double, gave
a lead to the Dutch, and rushed headlong upon the entrenchments of Fontenoy.
When within musket-shot they fell with faces on the ground, escaped the
volley that passed over them, and tumbled headlong over the first
breastwork. Fronting ranks of the enemy five deep, they had no choice but to
withdraw, to find the Dutch who should have supported them already out of
the action.
Meantime the main attack was
progressing. There were i6,000 of them in the column, with Cumberland at
their head. The butcher of Culloden might be execrated for inhumanity, but
no man could ever call him a coward. The ranks were riddled by the fire from
Fontenoy in front and from the redoubt on flank. The men were literally mown
down in swaths ; but still the gaps refilled and the ranks re-formed, and
all the time, with men harnessed for horses, they were dragging twelve
field-pieces up the ascent. Infantry rushed on them in vain; cavalry were
hurled back in confusion. When they topped the crest, the French stood
facing them within thirty paces. Then there was a charge. The French were
taken aback at sight of the cannon. The guns belched grape among them at
close quarters, the musketeers poured in a deadly volley ; the front rank of
the enemy is said to have gone down as one man ; the files behind looked
back over their shoulders .to see their cavalry reserves full boo yards in
the rear ; they scattered, and the Made was greeted by a thunderous British
cheer.
The British had passed the
batteries on either side, and stood victorious on the key of the positions.
In fact, the battle was well-nigh won had our allies done their duty and had
the cavalry been called into action in time. So Saxe believed, and for a
moment his counsels were those of despair. Louis and his son had been
watching the battle from the eminence still known as the Gallows Hill; Saxe
sent to pray them to save themselves beyond the Scheldt, which both declined
to do. On the contrary, they hastily called a council of war. Owing probably
to the advice of Count Lowendahl it was resolved to make a supreme effort,
though Fontenoy had already exhausted its shot and was firing blank
cartridge. The Household Cavalry were rallied for a final frontal charge.
Thanks to some anonymous inspiration, guns that had been standing idle were
brought up to shower grape on the assailants. There could be no reply from
our own batteries, for they were enclosed in the hollow square into which
our column had been formed. As the Dutch were playing simply the role of
spectators, the French Marshal could withdraw his regiments on the right.
His reserves, and notably the Irish, who had been boiling over with
impatience to get at their hereditary foes, were called over from the left.
The combined attack was overwhelming on men faint with hunger and weary with
unparalleled exertions and hard fighting. The shattered column, reduced by
5000, yielded with sullen reluctance to irresistible pressure. The retreat
was effected with the same perfect discipline which had marked the advance ;
Fontenoy brought more honour to the British and Hanoverians than many a
glorious victory ; the guns dragged up the hill had to be abandoned for
there were not horses to bring them away, but no colours were lost, and the
French made few prisoners.
The allies retired to Ath,
though they did not remain there. The French were not slow to press their
advantage. Saxe has been censured for not immediately following up the
retreat, but the columns showed so formidable a front that it would have
been hazardous to press them with his shattered battalions. Moreover, the
Dutch had taken such excellent care of themselves that they had some 20,000
unbroken men on his right flank. Naturally there was great jubilation among
the victors. Not only had they won the decisive battle, but for the first
time they had beaten the English in a fair field. As the King had reviewed
the ranks on the eve of the battle, so now with the Dauphin he rode along
the lines to still more vociferous cheering, though the numbers had been
sadly thinned by death, and the ridge was strewed with the wounded. One man
was missing from his brilliant staff ; Saxe had been borne on a litter to
his tent, for with the relaxation of the strain he had broken down. The day
for him had been a triumph of energy over feebleness and pain. Next morning
he had so far rallied as to be carried in his wicker chair into the royal
presence. Kneeling, he ejaculated in faltering accents, "Sire, I have lived
long enough—I have lived to see your Majesty victorious." Then, glancing
round on the blood-stained scene of the reception, he said: "Now, sire, you
see the meaning of afbattle." Louis, overflowing with gratitude for once,
raised the hero, and embraced him on either cheek. Nor did his gratitude
stop there. He deigned to address the Marshal as "my cousin"; by solemn
brevet, with many gracious preliminaries, he conferred on him and on his
wife, should he marry, the privilege of entry into the Louvre in their
coaches, and to the lady the right of the seat on the tabouret in presence
of their Majesties and the children of France. But there were substantial
rewards besides, more grateful to the impecunious soldier of fortune than
relaxations of court etiquette. The château of Chambord, with its wide
domains, was conferred on him ; there were additions to the pensions he
already enjoyed, and he was appointed Governor of Alsace with a salary of
120,000 livres.
Tournai held out for a little
longer, but surrendered on the 22nd May. The fall of the great fortress was
followed up by the capture of Ghent, by the surrender of Bruges, Oudenarde,
and Ostend. They all fell to Li5wendahl, by far the ablest of Saxe's
lieutenants. Finally Ath, the last bulwark of West Flanders, succumbed, and
the successive shocks to British prestige were felt severely in England.
Saxe, though incapable of great effort, had remained with the army, but his
brain was active, and his presence caused the allied generals much anxiety.
As the winter approached, their strength was rapidly weakened. Cumberland,
after many entreaties, had gone to take command against the Scottish
rebellion. Maldeck was left in charge, with a slender contingent of Hessians
under Lord Dunmore. He looked forward to a peaceable winter. Saxe, as he
knew, with his marvellous vitality had become another man ; after a flying
visit to Paris he was at Ghent, indulging in all manner of excesses, making
volatile love with the verve of the roué of the Regency, and having the
troupe of actors who generally attended him playing to crowded houses. On a
sudden, in the dead of the Flemish winter, news came to Waldeck that his
enemy, changing from one of his roles to the other, and violating all the
rules of war, was laying siege to Brussels. Brussels capitulated, and its
surrender was followed by the capture of Vilvorde with all the field-guns
and magazines of the allies. That closed the brief and brilliant winter
campaign. Saxe was back again in Paris, to be embraced by the King and to be
applauded to the echo by an overflowing house when he made his first
appearance at the opera.
Next spring the King would
again willingly have made peace, but again Maria Theresa would hear nothing
of it. Charles of Lorraine was on the Rhine with 50,000 Imperialists. Saxe
was in the field again, and Louis again came to the Netherlands. The
campaign opened with the taking of Antwerp, left with only a feeble
garrison. Then came the capture of the great fortress of Namur, only four
days after opening the trenches. Meantime, Charles of Lorraine was drawing
near and Waldeck had been reinforced. Twenty thousand Hessians and
Hanoverians had joined him in his camp at Breda, and Ligonier brought back a
British contingent of six regiments of the line and four of cavalry. The
allied armies effected their junction, though too late to save Namur. Their
purpose was to winter in Liege, and that of Saxe to force them back across
the Meuse. They took up a strong position, at once commanding Liege and
covering Maestricht. Then Saxe, who, though habitually cautious, could
nevertheless be audacious in an emergency, determined to bring on a battle.
All told, the allies mustered Ioo,000, but they stretched in thin,
straggling formation along a line of wooded hills, cut up by deep ravines or
impracticable gullies; and in fact the Austrians on the extreme left,
observed by a detached body of French, were virtually out of the fighting.
On October II the battle
began with a French attack on the left, which, storming through a suburb of
Liege, turned the left flank of the allies. The Dutch, as at Fontenoy, made
but indifferent resistance. Saxe's attack on the centre was delayed by the
perverse obstinacy of Count Clermont, but early in the afternoon his twelve
brigades rushed impetuously forward in three columns. They were driven back
by tremendous discharges of artillery and musketry. Saxe had exposed himself
like any private, and his spirit animated his soldiers for another advance.
The second attempt, with a concentration of superior numbers, proved
successful, the villages of Rocoux and Vorax were carried, and the allied
centre was broken. Still the British and the German contingents under the
gallant Ligonier retired slowly, offering a determined resistance. But
French colours were showing on the heights to the left, the French artillery
fire had scattered the Dutch cavalry, a few thousand Bavarians had broken
their ranks and fled, and Ligonier's battalions, caught up by the rabble of
fugitives, were involved in the panic flight. The rush was for the three
pontoon bridges thrown over the Meuse, and many of the fugitives were
drowned in the river. At five o'clock the allies had been driven from all
their posts, and Saxe ordered up his cavalry for the pursuit. But the autumn
night was coming on, and his horsemen drew rein at the ravines. Estimates of
the losses on either side vary amazingly. The French author of Saxe's
Memoirs says the allies left 12,000 dead and lost 3000 prisoners, while the
French had but loon killed. Considering the obstinate fighting in the
centre, the last statement is incredible. More probable calculations place
the whole casualties of the allies at between 5000 and 6000, and those of
the French at about two-thirds of that number. A decree of the King
conferred on Saxe the title of "Most Serene Highness," and six of the
captured guns went to Chambord, to be mounted on the terrace of the château.
The war continued, to the
satisfaction of Saxe as was believed, for he was always eager for honours
and glory. In March he was formally gazetted Marshal-General in command of
the army of the Low Countries. Louis had issued a lengthy proclamation,
setting forth in honeyed words his concern for the interests of Holland, but
ending with an unmistakable hint that he contemplated nothing short of its
conquest, unless it asked for peace upon terms of his dictation. Cumberland
was back and nominally in command of the allies, but now he was embarrassed
at every step by the obstruction and jealousy of his colleagues. Now,
however, the Dutch were thoroughly alarmed ; William of Orange-Nassau, the
son-in-law of King George, had been elected Stadtholder, and fresh levies
were being hurried into the field. Already the French were afoot and active.
Saxe in consultation at Versailles had sketched out his plan of campaign.
LOwendahl had his orders, while Saxe was still at Versailles, and was
threatening the fortresses in Dutch Flanders. When the attention of the
allies was diverted thither, Saxe in command of the main army was to lay
siege to Maestricht and strike into South Holland. Lowendahl acted with his
habitual celerity and more than his usual good fortune. Fortress after
fortress fell to him, and when Saxe joined his army, lie found his left
already secured. The allies, after sundry vain demonstrations, had given up
their designs on Antwerp, and had to content themselves with moving eastward
to cover Maestricht.
Conflicting counsels had
paralysed their operations, and indeed they were greatly inferior in
numbers. When Louis reached Brussels, whither Saxe had preceded him, he
reviewed 140,000 men who had passed the winter in comfortable quarters. The
great army marched from Brussels for Maestricht. Saxe anticipated the allies
in occupying Tongres, where Cumberland had intended to establish his
headquarters. Then the opposing forces found themselves face to face. Their
battle-field lay open between them, and when King Louis came to Tongres, he
rode over the ground which Saxe had surveyed and carefully studied. From the
heights above the village of Henderen, on which his infantry were arrayed in
a double line, the King could trace the positions of the allies, who now
mustered 90,000. Their right extended westward, along the opposite ridge;
their left was pointing towards Maestricht. They had occupied all the
villages in their front, with Laffeldt held strongly as the key of their
position. But it was no equal match. Besides being outnumbered by nearly a
third, they were wearied by fruitless countermarching, and aware of the
dissensions between their leaders, whereas the French were in high heart and
spirits, fighting under the eyes of their sovereign and led by their
invincible Marshal. The Austrians were on the right, the Dutch on the left,
while in the centre behind Laffeldt were the British, the Hanoverians, and
the Hessians. Saxe's infantry still stood ranged along the Henderen heights,
extended on the right to the village of Rymps and overlapping the Dutch ;
Rymps was strongly entrenched and occupied, and repelled an attack by the
Dutch on the eve of the battle. The battle may be briefly described, and the
result was almost a foregone conclusion. On the morning of the 2nd July the
French were moving early, but it was ten o'clock ere the action began. Then
Saxe launched a furious attack on Laffeldt. Three times the village was won;
thrice was it recovered as reserves came up. But the reserves gave out, and
Saxe had still fresh regiments to call upon. Heading that charge in person,
and supporting it with concentrated artillery fire, Laffeldt changed hands
for the last time, and so by noon the day was virtually won.
Cumberland strove to save it
by ordering a charge of the Dutch horse from the centre. They were charged
in turn by the heavy French cavalry from either side, overridden, and hunted
back, while the Frenchmen never drew rein till they had met in the allied
centre. Then there was nothing for it but retreat upon Maestricht. The
retreat was becoming a rout, when the rabble of fugitives was saved by a
gallant onset of Ligonier at the head of four regiments of dragoons. Not
only were the French cavalry checked in the full flush of a jubilant chase,
but they left five of their standards behind. The gallant Ligonier, always
in the thick of the fight, was unhorsed and taken prisoner. Saxe received
him with chivalrous courtesy. Presenting him to the King, he said: "Here,
sire, is a man who by a single splendid action has upset all my plans."
Nor were the words an empty
compliment. Laffeldt was no decisive battle, and Maestricht, though always
threatened, was still safe, Meantime the interest had centred in West
Flanders. LOwendahl was laying siege to Bergen-op-Zoom, a virgin fortress,
deemed impregnable, and the masterpiece of Cohorn's science. The Dutch, in
the depths of depression, urged the allies to raise the siege. The King sent
peremptory orders to Saxe that the place must be taken at any cost.
LOwendahl staked fame and fortune on a desperate hazard. The allies were
advancing ; the defences were yet unbreached, but he ordered a general
assault at daybreak. Bergen-op-Zoom was taken, he won the coveted baton of
Marshal, but stained his reputation to all time by the atrocities he
permitted on the helpless inhabitants. Louis is said to have shrunk from
connivance in the guilt, but Saxe, when consulted, spoke out with his usual
decision. "Sire, there is no middle course; you must either hang him or make
him Marshal of France."
Louis had for years been
longing for peace, and again the succession of victories enabled him to make
honourable advances. Ligonier had been employed as an intermediary, and King
George lent a willing ear. Indeed Louis' pro-positions were so generous as
to disarm reasonable opposition, for he offered as the basis of a treaty
reversion to the status quo ante. In the spring of 1748 the negotiations
were progressing, but none the less, Saxe had been preparing for war. The
capture of Maestricht he declared to be an indispensable preliminary to any
treaty, and the city was closely invested on either bank of the Meuse. But
on May Day news came to the camps of the French and the allies that the
peace preliminaries had been actually signed at Aix-la-Chapelle. Saxe
received an envoy with proposals for an armistice and the surrender of
Maestricht. His acceptance was ratified by Louis, and on May 10 Maestricht
was given over.
The Marshal was by no means
satisfied to see much of his work undone. Holland had good reason to be
gratified, for Bergen-op-Zoom and Maestricht, her bulwarks on the western
and eastern borders, were to be given back. Saxe protested in vain against
terms he deemed dishonourable. Undoubtedly personal considerations weighed
with him as much as politics and patriotism. He loved war, and had a passion
for fame and celebrity. Now he saw his occupation gone and the field of
honour finally closed to him. Reluctantly he sheathed his sword and retired
to his château of Chambord.
There he lived en prince and
grand seigneur. Louis had not been backward in gratitude or generosity, and
he was in enjoyment of a splendid income. He still played at soldiering—as
Napoleon when locked up in Elba—with his own regiment, the Volunteers of
Saxe, which he had raised in 1743. To his shame and scandal, as it was
afterwards to prove, he indulged his tastes for music and the drama. But
these trivial distractions speedily palled on the restless spirit who had
filled Europe with his fame. Among other schemes, more or less extravagant,
he planned a settlement in Tobago, a starting-point for dreams of ambition
in the other hemisphere. That scheme was promptly knocked on the head by the
natural objections of England and Holland. There was nothing left the old
roué but to fall back on dissipation, and with a constitution worn-out by
war and dissipation he reverted to the excesses of his youth. Four years
before his death it was his misfortune to become the victim of a senile and
devouring passion. He fell in love with the beautiful young wife of his
theatrical impresario. Unfortunately for his fame, the lady was virtuous and
her husband an honest man. They were proof alike against threats and
magnificent offers. Saxe stooped to abuse his great position, and fell into
the fashion of the court favourites of the day. He hunted his helpless
dependant into hiding, wearied by lawsuits to be decided by servile judges,
and sent the hapless beauty to a convent under a lettre de cachet. By the
irony of fate that was the last memorable incident in the career of the hero
of Fontenoy. He died on 3oth November 1750 in his bed at Chambord, with the
calm courage and the dignity with which he would have met death on the
battle-field.
There was universal mourning
in France as the news was slowly circulated. By a clause in the Marshal's
will his body was to be cremated in quicklime, in imitation of Saint Monica,
but it was disregarded by the executors. The corpse was embalmed and
enclosed in triple coffins of lead, copper, and iron-bound mahogany. The
heart was in a silver case, the entrails in another casket. For a month
there was a sort of lying in state; then in the depth of winter the stately
funeral cortege set out from Chambord for Strasburg. As during the waiting
at Chambord guard had been mounted as when the Marshal was alive, and guns
fired every half-hour, now the coaches were escorted by a squadron of light
dragoons, and after a month's march in wild, stormy weather and over
difficult roads, it was met in the environs of Strasburg by the garrison and
all the dignitaries, military and civil. The Protestant hero, who had held
fast to his faith, was buried in the Lutheran church of St. Thomas. |
