Though he had studied deeply the lessons of 1870, Maunoury was not cast down by them, but rather stimulated to greater effort. Immediately after the war he wrote to his family a letter which shows his faith in his country's renaissance. "The frightful catastrophe leaves France mutilated, but she is not stricken to death. All can be repaired if she really wishes it." That was the language of a soldier and optimist, but it interpreted exactly the spirit of his countrymen and, above all, the capacity of their eventual leaders. He was well placed to form such an opinion, for, as General of Division, he became Director of the War School, and upon its benches sat the future commanders of French armies. Napoleon in his time made use of the material to his hand, often untrained scientifically—the soldier of fortune, of practical experience—but he held always that the best officer came from the Schools. And this generalisation is true to-day, truer than ever, because of the new character of war. Maunoury set himself against mere specialisation, and, though he became an expert, as we have seen, he enlarged his scope by studying tactics and then applied them in the field, by commanding first the Fourteenth Army Corps at Marseilles, and secondly the famous Twentieth Corps at Nancy, which looked directly in the face of the foe. As colonel he had commanded artillery at Vincennes.
He seemed to have written "finis" to the more active part of his career when he became Governor of Paris, but even in this post of pure routine in peace time, he invented methods of reform. He objected to the slackness that prevailed, and circularised against the slovenliness of soldiers' dress in the streets, and even on the parade-ground. He tried to revive officers' interest in the morning ride in the Bois. Paris was amused and at the same time satisfied with a circular issued during the winter of 1911-12, which expressed surprise that the Governor met so few officers on wet and cold mornings in the Bois. Between the lines you could read his contempt for softness. Even in his most strenuous student days he had always kept himself fit by constant physical exercise. At the Cavalry School at Saumur, he was noted for his good riding; in the Bois his elegant, upright figure was a reproach against the carelessness of some officers.
He objected to laissez-aller in any branch of the army. Discipline was as important as guns and ammunition, he thought. Nor did he mean mere respect for established things or strict obedience to superiors. He meant that discipline of the mind which accepted principles and policies—the unity of military doctrine; he meant a constant training of officers in grand manoeuvres, that each might be accustomed to responsibility in the common scheme. Only by incessant practice could one attain perfection. And behind the discipline there must be patriotism. His example and enthusiasm infected the Paris garrison; in two years he had achieved marvels. And then the night parades, inaugurated by M. Millerand in concert with the Governor, aroused civilian enthusiasm for the army. Once more the streets of Paris resounded with the cry: "Vive l'armée." Under the old régime it had become almost seditious as a sentiment, but now the whole street hummed and sang the Sambre et Meuse, and marched in rhythm with the beating drums and shrieking fifes. Even blasés Parisians in the cafés and restaurants stood on their feet as the tattoo passed and the red-coated orchestras broke into a rapturous Marseillaise, with accompanying cheers. The fond of Paris is always patriotic whatever the surface currents.
When war fell out of a blue sky, Maunoury was tending his roses in his garden in the quiet village of Mer, near Blois. A few months before, his neighbours had asked him to stand for Parliament in the interest of the Three-Years Law; but he declined. Perhaps his near view of politics, as Commandant of the Guard of the Senate, had not conduced to a respect for them. In any case, he preferred his open-air life and his country pursuits to the feverish atmosphere of political Paris. When he went to the Luxembourg, where is situated the Senate, it was to attend a course on arboriculture—not to pay court to politicians. These he has kept always at a distance. It needed a war to wrest him from his gardening and agriculture, tastes the stronger for being hereditary. His family was long settled in the Loir-et-Cher, and one of his uncles had allowed Pasteur to experiment upon his flocks when investigating cattle-diseases.
The old ardour returned at the call of duty. First came dépot work, important even if lacking glory, and then the command of an army at Verdun for the eastern offensive. Alas! it was unsuccessful, and Maunoury's, with the other French Armies, was soon in retreat towards the south. But the watchful eye of Joffre remarked an attempt on the part of Von Kluck, commanding the First German Army, to envelop the left wing (the English Army) of the Allies. He sent Maunoury to support the wing. The troops detrained at Montdidier, to the south of Amiens. They arrived by divisions, and were flung, one after the other, into the battle-line—a difficult and dangerous process under fire. Von Kluck disregarded the army forming in front of his right, as if it did not exist, and concentrated his attention on the English force, which he wished to crush. Maunoury's orders were to fall back on Paris to form the siege garrison. When the order reached him, he ejaculated, "Heaven forbid! Anything but that." His memory went back to 1870, and there was revived the old anguish at the misfortunes of his country. None the less, he refused to lose heart, and kept a bold front to the enemy, retiring in splendid order after holding each line as long as possible.
Galliéni had seen the enemy's move from north to east and noted its strategic consequences. He communicated his impressions to the Commander-in-Chief, and Maunoury's army, hastily reconstituted and now composed of 100,000 men, was thrust again into an offensive against the flank-guard of Reservists which was protecting Von Kluck's columns as they glided past Paris. The assemblage of that army and its rapid transport to the strategic points constitutes one of the romances of the war.
The Sixth Army was composed of divers elements, most of which had suffered greatly from the fighting in the east and north. The cavalry, too, was fatigued by its long march from Charleroi. One of its important bodies was General Lamaize's corps, formed of two divisions of reserves, which had lost heavily in Lorraine. They had fought also at Amiens, whither they had been transported by train, and then they marched on foot to Dammartin, to the north of Meaux, which was one of the points of concentration. To these divisions was added a brigade of Moroccan infantry. The second considerable element was the Seventh Army Corps, which had battled, also, in the east before reaching the Amiens district. One of its divisions was commanded by General de Villaret, who later was to be wounded with Maunoury at Soissons. Two divisions, which had fought at Cambrai in French Flanders, and had been much cut up; a division from Algeria which had just arrived in Paris; the Fourth Army Corps from Lorraine where it had lost many men; a cavalry brigade and the First Corps of Cavalry, consisting of three divisions; a brigade of Marine Fusiliers, two-and-a-half battalions of Zouaves and a brigade of Spahis (native cavalry from Algeria) were also joined to the force under Maunoury. The fixed garrison of Paris consisted of four divisions of Territorials, who were also employed in outpost work along the line of contact.
The army was ordered to act in co-operation with the English, who had assembled in the Coulommiers district; but, unfortunately, there seems not to have been quite the co-operation needed between the two forces, though Maunoury detached a division to the help of the ally. The Sixth Army began the attack on the afternoon of September 5. In moving to their positions, the troops found the enemy's reserves strongly occupying villages to the left of Meaux. The General-in-chief's dispositions were not entirely realized, and some critics blame what they call the hesitancy of the English in assuming a vigorous offensive. In any case the Operations, after severe fighting, were generally crowned with success, and a great part of the credit of the battle of the Marne is due to the resourcefulness and skill of Maunoury. An incident in the battle was the arrival of reinforcements in 1,100 taxicabs, mobilised by General Galliéni, in order to transport the Seventh Infantry Division to the left wing of the Sixth Army. The infantry arrived with great promptitude by this means, and was able at dawn on the morrow to enter into action. Having distinguished himself in the defence of Paris, Maunoury was given the command of an army at Soissons. There he was wounded during the Spring of 1915, whilst making an inspection of the trenches with General de Villaret, who was also injured by the same bullet. General Maunoury's right eye was lost and the left affected. It meant that he could no longer hold his command at the Front, and this fine old soldier, who had done so much for the French Army, again became Governor of Paris, after an interval of three years. Some have blamed him for exposing himself in the first-line trenches only thirty metres from the enemy, but his principle always had been that the Commander-in-Chief should share danger with his troops. It is characteristic of him that he did not shrink from all the consequences of such a theory. There was something a little touching in the circumstances that in the twilight of his own life, after a brilliant day, he came to watch over Paris—la ville lumière—plunged into the deep shadows of a precautionary darkness. And then when his own light faded into a perpetual obscurity, he retired once again into the peace—alas! the disabled peace—of private life, a sad but glorious end for an old soldier.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MILITARY POWER OF ENGLAND