Somehow Davout and Ney and Eugène de Beauharnais held the wretched Grand Army together until Napoleon’s return, and then Davout was sent off to hold down Northern Germany once more. It was a task which might have daunted anybody. Prussia was ablaze with hatred of Napoleon, and Prussian troops were swarming forward to the attack. The citizens of the Hanseatic towns, ruined by the Continental system, and bankrupted by Napoleon’s requisitions, were in a state of sullen rebellion. Davout’s troops consisted merely of invalids, cripples and raw levies, while the loyalty of most of them was to be doubted. Bernadotte, once a Marshal of France, was leading his Swedes against his old countrymen. Benningsen with a Russian army advanced to the attack. But Davout’s grip was upon Hamburg, and it was a grip which nothing could break. He held on through the summer of 1813, while the armistice of Pleissvitz gave hope of relief. He held on through the autumn, while Austria joined the ranks of Napoleon’s enemies. The victory of Dresden was followed by the defeats of the Katzbach, of Kulm, of Gross Beeren, of Dennewitz, and finally by the complete disaster of Leipzig, but Davout still held on to Hamburg. Provisions began to fail, the populace broke into insurrection; it was known that the Allies were over the Rhine, that Napoleon was carrying on a hopeless struggle in France itself. Marmont, Mortier, Ney, in turn deserted, but Davout still held on to Hamburg. It was not until the end of April, when the Bourbons were once more on the throne of France, and a Bourbon general was sent to take command, that he relaxed his grip. Half his army had died during the horrors of the siege, enormous offers had been made to him for his submission, the famished inhabitants had implored him to surrender, but he had allowed nothing to interfere with his fulfilment of his duty.
The Bourbons tried to have him shot for this on his return, but such a feat was beyond their power. Thus he was not asked, nor did he ask to take the oath of allegiance.
On Napoleon’s return from Elba Davout was the only Marshal who could join him without staining his honour. Marmont stayed by the Bourbons, for fear of the consequences of his surrender of Paris; Macdonald and St. Cyr, Oudinot and Victor, held to their oaths. Ney flagrantly broke his word to serve his old Emperor once more; Masséna, as was to be expected, tried to keep a middle course. Davout was the one man free from the Bourbon taint, and in consequence Napoleon had to leave him behind as Governor of Paris and Minister of War to hold France quiet during the Waterloo campaign.
Could it have been otherwise, Waterloo might well have been a victory for France. We can picture Davout in command of the left wing in the advance over the Sambre. In place of Ney’s bungled staff work and haphazard arrangements, there would have been a prompt and orderly movement. The columns would have been kept closed up, instead of straggling for miles. Davout’s accurate, lengthy reports would have kept Napoleon clearly informed as to the situation. A prompt attack on the morning of the 16th of June at Quatre Bras would have cleared the air effectively, and d’Erlon, instead of wasting his strength in marching and counter-marching, could have been employed to much better advantage at Ligny. Ney’s position at Quatre Bras was, as a matter of fact, very like Davout’s at Auerstädt eleven years before. Davout succeeded at Auerstädt; Ney failed at Quatre Bras. With Davout in command of the left wing in the Waterloo campaign, the history of the world might have been different.
At Waterloo, when the cavalry was dashing itself to pieces on the English squares, Napoleon is said to have cried, “Oh, for one hour of Murat.” Murat by that time would not have made an atom of difference. The destiny of France had been decided two days before at Quatre Bras. One hour of Davout would have been worth fifty hours of Murat.
After Waterloo had been lost and won, for a few days it was the Prince of Eckmühl who ruled France. He pulled the army together, and thereby saved Napoleon’s life, for he managed to stave off the Prussian army while Napoleon fled to Rochefort. But with the return of the Bourbons he sank into oblivion, and died of pneumonia eight years afterwards almost unnoticed.
Such was the end of the one great officer of Napoleon’s whose honour had never been sullied, who had always done his duty, and who had never failed. His enemies hated him as well as feared him; his friends feared him as well as trusted him. His one aim in life was to do his duty; in this aim he stood almost alone in his age, and in its achievement he stood quite alone.
EUGÈNE DE BEAUHARNAIS
(VICEROY OF ITALY PRINCE DE VENISE)