It is well known that the military branch of eſpionage is as extended aſ the civil, and the certainty of this deſtroys confidence, and leaves even the unwilling ſoldier no reſource but to go through his profeſſional duty with as much zeal as though it were his choice. On the one hand, the diſcipline is ſevere—on the other, licentiouſneſs is permitted beyond all example; and, half-terrified, half-ſeduced, principles the moſt inimical, and morals the leaſt corrupt, become habituated to fear nothing but the government, and to reliſh a life of military indulgence.—The armies were ſome time ſince ill clothed, and often ill fed; but the requiſitions, which are the ſcourge of the country, ſupply them, for the moment, with profuſion: the manufacturers, the ſhops, and the private individual, are robbed to keep them in good humour—the beſt wines, the beſt clothes, the prime of every thing, is deſtined to their uſe; and men, who before laboured hard to procure a ſcanty ſubſiſtence, now revel in luxury and comparative idleneſs.
The rapid promotion acquired in the French army is likewiſe another cauſe of its adherence to the government. Every one is eager to be advanced; for, by means of requiſitions, pillage and perquiſites, the moſt trifling command is very lucrative.—Vaſt ſums of money are expended in ſupplying the camps with newſpapers written nearly for that purpoſe, and no otherſ are permitted to be publicly circulated.—When troops are quartered in a town, inſtead of that cold reception which it is uſual to accord ſuch inmates, the ſyſtem of terror acts as an excellent Marechal de Logis, and procures them, if not a cordial, at leaſt a ſubſtantial one; and it iſ indubitable, that they are no where ſo well entertained as at the houſeſ of profeſſed ariſtocrats. The officers and men live in a familiarity highly gratifying to the latter; and, indeed, neither are diſtinguiſhable by their language, manners, or appearance. There is, properly ſpeaking, no ſubordination except in the field, and a ſoldier has only to avoid politics, and cry "Vive la Convention!" to ſecure plenary indulgence on all other occaſions.—Many who entered the army with regret, continue there willingly for the ſake of a maintenance; beſides that a decree exiſts, which ſubjects the parents of thoſe who return, to heavy puniſhments. In a word, whatever can operate on the fears, or intereſts, or paſſions, is employed to preſerve the allegiance of the armies to the government, and attach them to their profeſſion.
I am far from intending to detract from the national bravery—the annalſ of the French Monarchy abound with the moſt ſplendid inſtances of it—I only wiſh you to underſtand, what I am fully convinced of myſelf, that liberty and republicaniſm have no ſhare in the preſent ſucceſſes. The battle of Gemappe was gained when the Briſſotin faction had enthroned itſelf on the ruins of a conſtitution, which the armies were ſaid to adore with enthuſiaſm: by what ſudden inſpiration were their affectionſ tranſferred to another form of government? or will any one pretend that they really underſtood the democratic Machiaveliſm which they were to propagate in Brabant? At the battle of Maubeuge, France was in the firſt paroxyſm of revolutionary terror—at that of Fleurus, ſhe had become a ſcene of carnage and proſcription, at once the moſt wretched and the moſt deteſtable of nations, the ſport and the prey of deſpots ſo contemptible, that neither the exceſs of their crimes, nor the ſufferings they inflicted, could efface the ridicule which was incurred by a ſubmiſſion to them. Were the French then fighting for liberty, or did they only move on profeſſionally, with the enemy in front, the Guillotine in the rear, and the intermediate ſpace filled up with the licentiouſneſs of a camp?—If the name alone of liberty ſuffices to animate the French troopſ to conqueſt, and they could imagine it was enjoyed under Briſſot or Robeſpierre, this is at leaſt a proof that they are rather amateurs than connoiſſeurs; and I ſee no reaſon why the ſame impulſe might not be given to an army of Janizaries, or the the legions of Tippoo Saib.
After all, it may be permitted to doubt, whether the ſort of enthuſiaſm ſo liberally aſcribed to the French, would really contribute more to their ſucceſſes, than the thoughtleſs courage I am willing to allow them.—It is, I believe, the opinion of military men, that the beſt ſoldiers are thoſe who are moſt diſpoſed to act mechanically; and we are certain that the moſt brilliant victories have been obtained where thiſ ardour, ſaid to be produced by the new doctrines, could have had no influence.—The heroes of Pavia, of Narva, or thoſe who adminiſtered to the vain-glory of Louis the Fourteenth, by ravaging the Palatinate, we may ſuppoſe little acquainted with it. The fate of battles frequently depends on cauſes which the General, the Stateſman, or the Philoſopher, are equally unable to decide upon; and the laurel, "meed of mighty conquerors," ſeems oftener to fall at the caprice of the wind, than to be gathered. It is ſometimes the lot of the ableſt tactician, at others of the moſt voluminous muſter-roll; but, I believe, there are few exampleſ where theſe political elevations have had an effect, when unaccompanied by advantages of ſituation, ſuperior ſkill, or ſuperior numbers.—"La plupart des gens de guerre (ſays Fontenelle) ſont leur metier avec beaucoup de courage. Il en eſt peu qui y penſent; leurs bras agiſſent auſſi vigoureuſement que l'on veut, leurs tetes ſe repoſent, et ne prennent preſque part a rieu"*—
* "Military men in general do their duty with much courage, but few make it a ſubject of reflection. With all the bodily activity that can be expected of them, their minds remain at reſt, and partake but little of the buſineſs they are engaged in."
—If this can be applied with truth to any armies, it muſt be to thoſe of France. We have ſeen them ſucceſſively and implicitly adopting all the new conſtitutions and ſtrange gods which faction and extravagance could deviſe—we have ſeen them alternately the dupes and ſlaves of all parties: at one period abandoning their King and their religion: at another adulating Robeſpierre, and deifying Marat.—Theſe, I confeſs are diſpoſitions to make good ſoldiers, but convey to me no idea of enthuſiaſts or republicans.
The bulletin of the Convention is periodically furniſhed with ſplendid feats of heroiſm performed by individuals of their armies, and I have no doubt but ſome of them are true. There are, however, many which have been very peaceably culled from old memoirs, and that ſo unſkilfully, that the hero of the preſent year loſes a leg or an arm in the ſame exploit, and uttering the ſelf-ſame ſentences, as one who lived two centuries ago. There is likewiſe a ſort of jobbing in the edifying ſcenes which occaſionally occur in the Convention—if a ſoldier happen to be wounded who has relationſhip, acquaintance, or connexion, with a Deputy, a tale of extraordinary valour and extraordinary devotion to the cauſe is invented or adopted; the invalid is preſented in form at the bar of the Aſſembly, receives the fraternal embrace and the promiſe of a penſion, and the feats of the hero, along with the munificence of the Convention, are ordered to circulate in the next bulletin. Yet many of the deeds recorded very deſervedly in theſe annals of glory, have been performed by men who abhor republican principles, and lament the diſaſters their partizans have occaſioned. I have known even notoriouſ ariſtocrats introduced to the Convention as martyrs to liberty, and who have, in fact, behaved as gallantly as though they had been ſo.—Theſe are paradoxes which a military man may eaſily reconcile.
Independently of the various ſecondary cauſes that contribute to the ſucceſs of the French armies, there is one which thoſe perſons who wiſh to exalt every thing they denominate republican ſeem to exclude—I mean, the immenſe advantage they poſſeſs in point of numbers. There haſ ſcarcely been an engagement of importance, in which the French have not profited by this in a very extraordinary degree.*
* This has been confeſſed to me by many republicans themſelves; and a diſproportion of two or three to one muſt add conſiderably to republican enthuſiaſm.
—Whenever a point is to be gained, the ſacrifice of men is not a matter of heſitation. One body is diſpatched after another; and freſh troopſ thus ſucceeding to oppoſe thoſe of the enemy already haraſſed, we muſt not wonder that the event has ſo often proved favourable to them.