When neglect of the army, the partiality shown to favourites, and the general spirit of discontent throughout France tempted Napoleon once again to seize the reins of government, Macdonald was commanding the twenty-first military division at Bourges. As he says, "The news of the Emperor's return took away my breath, and I at once foresaw the misfortunes that have since settled upon France." Placing his duty to his country and his plighted faith before the longings of his heart, he remained faithful to the Bourbons. It was the Marshal who at Lyons vainly endeavoured to aid the Count of Artois to organise resistance to Napoleon's advance. It was he who showed the King the vanity of Ney's boast that he would bring back the Emperor in an iron cage, who impressed on him Napoleon's activity, and who persuaded him to retire northwards to Lille and there attempt to rally his friends to his aid. Ministers and King were only too thankful to leave all arrangements to this cautious, indefatigable soldier, who supervised everything. Through every town the monarch passed he found the same feeling of apathy, the same tendency among the troops to cry "Vive l'Empereur," the same lack of enterprise among the officials. Typical of the situation was the sub-prefect of Bethune, who stood at the door of the royal carriage, one leg half-naked, his feet in slippers, his coat under his arm, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his hat on his head, one hand struggling with his sword, the other trying to fasten his necktie. The Marshal, ever mindful of Napoleon's activity, had to hurry the poor King, and Louis' portmanteau, with his six clean shirts and his old pair of slippers, got lost on the road. This loss, more than anything else, brought home to the monarch his pitiable condition. "They have taken my shirts," said he to Macdonald. "I had not too many in the first place; but what I regret still more is the loss of my slippers. Some day, my dear Marshal, you will appreciate the value of slippers that have taken the shape of your feet." With Napoleon at Paris, Lille seemed to offer but little security, and accordingly the King determined to seek safety in Belgium. The Marshal escorted him to the frontier and saw him put in charge of the Belgian troops. Then, promising to be faithful to his oath, he took an affectionate farewell of the old monarch with the words, "Farewell, sir; au revoir, in three months!"
Macdonald returned to Paris and lived quietly in his own house, refusing to have any intercourse with Napoleon or his ministers. Within three months came the news of Waterloo. Thereafter, against his will, but in accordance with orders, he joined Fouché, who had established a provisional government. Fouché, who knew the importance of outward signs, sent him off to try and persuade the returning monarch to win over the army by mounting the tricolour instead of the white cockade. But the King was obstinate; the Marshal quoted Henry IV.'s famous saying, "Paris is worth a mass." The King countered with, "Yes; but it was not a very Catholic one." But though the King would not listen to his advice he called on him to show his devotion. The imperial army had to be disbanded—a most unpopular and thankless task, requiring both tact and firmness. At his sovereign's earnest request, Macdonald undertook the duty, but with two stipulations: first, that he should have complete freedom of action; secondly, that he should be in no way an instrument for inflicting punishment on individuals. Immediately on taking up his appointment at Bourges, the Marshal summoned all the generals and officers to his presence, and informed them that, under Fouché's supervision, a list of proscribed had been drawn up. His advice was that all on this list should fly at once. That same evening police officials arrived in the camp to arrest the proscribed; playing on the fears of the mouchards, he locked them up all night, alleging that it was to save them from the infuriated soldiery. Thus all the proscribed escaped; but neither Fouché nor the Duc de Berri cared to bring the old soldier to task for this action. So the Marshal was left to work in his own way, and by October 21, 1815, thanks to his firmness and tact, "the bold and unhappy army, which had for so long been triumphant," was quietly dissolved without the slightest attempt at challenging the royal decision.
The Marshal did not mix much in politics. The King, at the second Restoration, created him arch-chancellor of the Legion of Honour. This post gave him considerable occupation, as it entailed the supervision of the schools for the children of those who had received the Cross, and he was for long happily employed in looking after the welfare of the descendants of his late comrades-in-arms. In November, 1830, the plea of the gout came opportunely at the moment of the commencement of the July monarchy, and the Marshal resigned the arch-chancellorship and returned to his estate of Courcelles, where he lived in retirement till his death, on September 25, 1840, at the age of seventy-five.
It was a maxim of Napoleon that success covers everything, that it is only failure which cannot be forgiven. Against the Duke of Tarentum's name stood the defeats of Trebbia and the Katzbach. But in spite of this, Napoleon never treated him as he treated Dupont and the other unfortunate generals. For Macdonald possessed qualities which were too important to be overlooked. With all the fiery enthusiasm of the Gael, he possessed to an unusual degree the caution of the Lowland Scot. Possessed of great reasoning powers and of the gift of seeing clearly both sides of a question, he had the necessary force of character to make up his mind which course to pursue, and to persevere in it to the logical issue. In the crossing of the Vaal, in the fighting round Rome, in the campaign with Prince Eugène in Italy, before and after Leipzig, and in his final campaign in France, he proved the correctness of his judgment and his capacity to work out his carefully prepared combinations. His defeat at the Trebbia was due to the treachery of the general commanding one of the attached divisions; the rout at the Katzbach was primarily due to climatic conditions and to the want of cohesion among the recently drafted recruits which formed the bulk of his army. On the stricken field of Wagram, and in the running fight at Hanau, his inflexible will and the quickness with which he grasped the vital points of the problem saved the Emperor and his army.
The only black spot in his otherwise glorious career is the battle of Leipzig. Long must the cry of "Monsieur le Maréchal, save your soldiers, save your children!" have rung in his ear. For once he had forgotten his proud boast that he never deserted troops entrusted to his command. Like the Emperor and his fellow Marshals and most of the generals, for the moment he lost his nerve; but he could still, though humbly, boast that he was the first to remember his duties and to try and save the remnant of the troops who had crossed the Elster.
Duty and truth were his watchwords. Once only he failed in his duty; never did he shirk telling the truth. It was this fearless utterance of the truth more than any connection with Moreau which was the cause of his long years of disgrace; it was this fearlessness, strange to say, which, in the end, conquered the Emperor, and which so charmed King Louis that he nicknamed him "His Outspokenness."
X
AUGUSTE FRÉDÉRIC LOUIS VIESSE DE MARMONT, MARSHAL, DUKE OF RAGUSA
Auguste Frédéric Louis Viesse De Marmont, the youngest of Napoleon's Marshals, was born at Châtillon-sur-Seine on July 25, 1774. The family of Viesse belonged to the smaller nobility, who from the days of Richelieu had supplied the officers of the line for the old royal army. Marmont's father had destined him from the cradle for the military career, and had devoted his life to training him, both in body and mind, for the profession of arms. His hours of patience and self-denial were not thrown away, for, thanks to his early Spartan training, the Duke of Ragusa seldom knew fatigue or sickness, and owing to this physical strength was able, without neglecting his professional duties, to spend hours on scientific and literary work. In 1792 young Marmont, at the age of eighteen, passed the entrance examination for the Artillery School at Châlons, and started his military career with his father's oft-repeated words ringing in his ears, "Merit without success is infinitely better than success without merit, but determination and merit always command success." The young artillery cadet had both determination and capacity and his early career foreshadowed his future success. Aristocratic to the bone, Marmont detested the excesses of the Revolution; but politics, during his early years, had little effect on his thoughts, which were solely fixed on military glory. The exigencies of the revolutionary wars cut short his student days at Châlons, and before the end of 1792 he was gazetted to the first artillery regiment. In February, 1793, he saw his first active service with the Army of the Alps, under General Kellermann. Owing to the dearth of trained officers, though only newly gazetted, he performed all the duties of a senior colonel, laying out entrenched camps and commanding the artillery of the division to which he was attached. It was with this promising record already behind him that he attracted Bonaparte's attention at the siege of Toulon by his admirable handling of the guns under his command, and by his inventive powers, which overcame all obstacles. From that day the Corsican destined him for his service, and during the campaign in the Maritime Alps used him as an unofficial aide-de-camp. So devoted did Marmont become to the future Emperor, that when Bonaparte was arrested at the time of Robespierre's fall, he and Junot formed a plan of rescuing their idol by killing the sentries and carrying him off by sea.