Napoleon's Marshals, Ranked (All Parts)

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So many French lost their lives in the 1790s, for this.

đŸ‘ïžŽ︎ 1 đŸ‘€ïžŽ︎ u/whnthynvr đŸ“…ïžŽ︎ Aug 27 2022 đŸ—«︎ replies

Murat is number one in my heart

đŸ‘ïžŽ︎ 1 đŸ‘€ïžŽ︎ u/Jorts_Life207 đŸ“…ïžŽ︎ Aug 27 2022 đŸ—«︎ replies
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“Terror belli
 decus pacis.” Terror in war
 ornament in peace. The words inscribed on every French Marshal’s baton. In France, the title of Marshal, or MarĂ©chal, goes back at least to the 13th century. It represents the highest possible position of military authority – authority symbolised by a marshal’s baton. The title was abolished during the French Revolution, as incompatible with the egalitarian spirit of the age. But in 1804, Napoleon founded a new empire, and restored the ancient rank. That year he picked 18 of France’s best generals, and made them ‘Marshals of the Empire’. Eight more were created in the years that followed. The Marshals outranked everyone in the new empire apart from Napoleon’s family, princes and ministers of state. They came from every background: sons of aristocrats, and inn-keepers, professional soldiers, and those who’d learned on the job; old school republicans, and Bonaparte loyalists; the youngest
 just half the age of the oldest. And though Marshal was a civil title, not strictly a military rank, the men known to the army as Les Gros Bonnets, ‘the big hats’, were arguably the most extraordinary, diverse, brilliant and flawed group of military commanders in history. The most favoured were showered with titles and wealth. But the price, too, was high: half were wounded, three were killed or died of wounds, two were executed. This is Epic History TV’s guide to Napoleon’s Marshals. All 26 have been ranked according to our own evaluation of their achievements as Marshals, with expert guidance from retired Lieutenant Colonel RĂ©my Porte, former chief historian of the French Army. We’re delighted to welcome back as our video sponsor: Napoleon-Souvenirs.com, the online shop for fans of the Napoleonic era. Since 2010, the team at Napoleon-Souvenirs.com has offered the finest quality gifts and souvenirs for all those who adore the Napoleonic era. Their extraordinary range of gifts includes busts and statuettes of the Emperor himself
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 and even the baton of a MarĂ©chal. You can visit their online store at Napoleon-Souvenirs.com or if you’re lucky enough to be in Paris, visit the Boutique Napoleon in person. Vive l’Empereur! And thank you to Napoleon-Souvenirs.com for sponsoring this video. More than 2,000 French generals served in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars. Many were brilliant leaders. A few probably deserved to be Marshals more than some who were. Any selection can only be difficult and highly subjective, but here’s our pick of twelve of the best: Bertrand, Napoleon’s faithful aide-de-camp, who commanded Fourth Corps at the Battle of Leipzig. Clauzel, a veteran commander of the war in Spain. Desaix, Napoleon’s close friend killed at Marengo aged 31. Prince EugĂšne, Napoleon’s adopted son, a hero of the Russian retreat. GĂ©rard, one of Napoleon’s best corps commanders by 1814, made a Marshal by King Louis-Philippe in 1830. Gudin, whose infantry division bore the brunt of the fighting at Auerstedt in 1806; died of wounds near Smolensk in 1812. Junot, who first served with Napoleon at Toulon in 1793; probably committed suicide after his fall from favour in 1813. Lasalle, the ‘Hussar General’, among the best light cavalry commanders of the Napoleonic Wars, killed at Wagram aged 34. Maison, who told his division on the morning of Leipzig, that they must win that day or all be killed, made Marshal by King Charles the Tenth in 1829. Nansouty, the heavy cavalry commander, who died of wounds and exhaustion, aged 46. Saint-Hilaire, hero of Austerlitz, died of wounds received at Aspern in 1809. Vandamme, of whom Napoleon once said, “If I had to invade Hell, I’d want him commanding the vanguard.” And now, Napoleon’s 26 marshals, ranked in order of merit. 26. Marshal PĂ©rignon. When Napoleon created the first 18 Marshals, four were ‘Honorary Marshals’, recognised for past service to France. PĂ©rignon was one of these. A former officer in the royal army, he’d won fame in the Revolutionary Wars, fighting the Spanish on the Pyrenees front. He later served as ambassador to Spain. After a brief retirement, he was sent to Italy, and commanded the French left wing at the disastrous Battle of Novi, where the army was routed by Suvorov’s Russians, and PĂ©rignon was badly wounded and captured. His appointment as Honorary Marshal in 1804 was a political move by Napoleon – a way to win acceptance for his new empire, by emphasising continuity with the Revolution, by rewarding its military heroes. PĂ©rignon never held active command as a Marshal, but served as governor of Parma, and later Naples. His eldest son Pierre was a cavalry officer, killed at Friedland in 1807. PĂ©rignon retired in 1813, but refused to support Napoleon when he returned from exile in 1815, and was stripped of his Marshals’ baton. His rank was later restored by King Louis the Eighteenth. 25. Marshal Brune Brune was another Marshal whose appointment owed much to politics. As a fiery republican, and former close ally of Revolutionary leader Georges Danton, his support was politically useful for Napoleon. Brune joined the army during the Terror – the most extreme period of the Revolution. His political connections ensured rapid promotion, and he was sent to help put down a counter-revolutionary revolt in Bordeaux. In 1795, as a 30-year-old brigadier general, he helped Napoleon disperse a royalist mob in Paris, with the famous ‘whiff of grapeshot’. Brune then served with Napoleon in Italy, fighting in several of his famous early victories. He won a reputation as a fierce divisional commander, and enthusiastic plunderer of Italian towns and churches. In 1798, he commanded the French occupation of Switzerland, while extorting 200,000 francs from the wealthy Swiss communes, the equivalent of several million dollars today. It was said that Brune’s personal carriage was so laden with gold when it left Switzerland, that it immediately broke down The next year he won his most important victory while commanding French forces in Holland, defeating an Anglo-Russian army at the Battle of Castricum, and saving France from invasion. But a short, calamitous spell commanding the Army of Italy convinced Napoleon that Brune was not fit for high command. Instead he sent him to be ambassador to the Ottoman Empire – where in 1804 he learned that he’d been made a Marshal. But Brune’s lack of delicacy, combined with a towering sense of self-importance, did not make him a successful diplomat. He was recalled to France, but as Governor of the Hanseatic Ports, blundered again, drafting a treaty with Sweden that failed to make any mention of the French Emperor. Whether a deliberate insult or act of incompetence, Napoleon was furious, and Brune was sacked. Brune spent the next seven years at his country estate. He bitterly opposed the return of the Bourbon monarchy in 1814, and rallied to Napoleon when he returned from exile the next year. But in the tumult following Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, Brune was cornered by a royalist mob in Avignon, murdered, and tossed into the River RhĂŽne. 24. Marshal SĂ©rurier SĂ©rurier was another of the four Honorary Marshals, whom Napoleon wished to recognise for past service. In contrast to Brune, SĂ©rurier was a professional soldier of the old school, a veteran of the Seven Years’ War, and a stern disciplinarian. This background was not necessarily an asset during the French Revolution, when any officer who’d served in the royal army was viewed with suspicion. But Colonel SĂ©rurier’s training and diligence were soon recognised as assets to the new French republic. By 1795 he was a general serving with Napoleon in Italy, where his stand against corruption and looting won him the nickname ‘the Virgin of Italy’. SĂ©rurier was a reliable if unspectacular commander, who won an important victory at Mondovi, at a crucial moment in Napoleon’s rise to fame. The following year, he accepted the Austrian surrender at the end of the long siege of Mantua. Two years later, fighting under General Moreau’s command, SĂ©rurier and his division were cut off by the Russians, and forced to surrender. Released on parole, he was back in Paris in time to support Napoleon’s coup d’ĂȘtat of 18 Brumaire. SĂ©rurier then retired from active command, but Napoleon, remembering his past service, made him an Honorary Marshal, and Governor of Les Invalides, the retirement home and hospital for old soldiers. There, shortly before the fall of Paris in 1814, SĂ©rurier oversaw the burning of more than a thousand captured flags and standards, to prevent them falling into Allied hands. 23. Marshal Kellermann Kellermann was another Honorary Marshal, the oldest at 68, and famed throughout France as the ‘Saviour of the Revolution’. A career soldier from a middle-class background, he’d seen distinguished service as a cavalry officer in the Seven Years War. At the beginning of the Revolutionary Wars, he was a general commanding a frontier army at the moment of greatest crisis – when it seemed foreign invasion was about to stamp out the Revolution, and restore the ancien rĂ©gime. But at Valmy, in September 1792, Kellermann’s Army of the Centre stood its ground, and with a ferocious artillery barrage, persuaded the Prussian army to withdraw. Valmy was not a stunning tactical victory, but it was a turning point of history, that saved the infant French republic. When the Revolution took a more radical turn, even a war hero like Kellermann became suspected of royalist links, and spent a year in prison under the threat of the guillotine. Acquitted and restored to command, he was poised to launch a new offensive in Italy, when he was side-lined, first by General SchĂ©rer, then in favour of a rising new talent, General Bonaparte. Kellermann later specialised in army administration and training, a role he continued to perform under Napoleon, whilst also entering politics and serving as president of the Senate. His son, General François Étienne Kellermann, followed in his father’s footsteps, serving as one of Napoleon’s best cavalry commanders. 22. Marshal Grouchy When Napoleon returned from his first exile in 1815, he created one last Marshal for the upcoming campaign – Emmanuel de Grouchy. Although now infamous for failing to march to Napoleon’s aid during the Battle of Waterloo, up to that moment, Grouchy had had a long and distinguished military career. An aristocrat who embraced the French Revolution, Grouchy served with distinction throughout the Revolutionary Wars, fighting counter-revolutionaries in the VendĂ©e, and serving in Italy, where he was wounded and captured at the Battle of Novi. Under the Empire, Grouchy excelled as commander of a dragoon division in Marshal Murat’s Cavalry Reserve. He was praised by the Emperor for his part in the great French charge at Eylau
 played an important role buying time for Napoleon at Friedland
 and expertly covered the French right wing at Wagram. For the invasion of Russia, he commanded Third Cavalry Corps, and was wounded at Borodino. He survived the horrors of the retreat, but was left so exhausted it took him several months to recover. He returned for Napoleon’s 1814 campaign in France, and was wounded twice more. Grouchy was made a Marshal at the start of the Hundred Days campaign, and commanded Napoleon’s right wing at Ligny. After the battle was won, he was ordered to pursue the retreating Prussians, to prevent them joining up with Wellington’s Anglo-Allied army. Two days later, as the Battle of Waterloo raged 10 miles to the west, Grouchy made the fateful decision to follow his written orders, rather than march to join Napoleon – and has been widely blamed for the French Emperor’s defeat ever since. Grouchy’s vilification is not wholly fair, not least because Napoleon rarely encouraged his Marshals to show initiative, and often flew into rages if they deviated from his written orders. Nor should one blunder obscure the distinguished record of one of the Grande ArmĂ©e’s best cavalry generals. Grouchy fled to America after Napoleon’s defeat to escape royalist reprisals, but was pardoned and returned to France in 1820. 21. Marshal Moncey Moncey ran away from home to join the army at the age of 15. After 20 years of uneventful service, he’d risen no higher than the rank of Captain. But then came the French Revolution. Most French officers were aristocrats, who, if they did not actively oppose the Revolution, were nevertheless regarded as politically suspect. The result was that three-quarters of them either fled the country or were dismissed from the army. Moncey – a middle-class officer with no strong political views – reaped the benefit, with meteoric promotion. By 1794, General Moncey was leading the Army of the Western Pyrenees to victory over the Spanish, on what was, admittedly, a relative backwater of the Revolutionary Wars. In 1797 he was dismissed for alleged royalist sympathies, but reinstated in time to support Napoleon’s coup of 18 Brumaire. By his own admission, Moncey was a sensitive officer – honest, honourable, but lacking a ruthless streak or iron will to succeed. Napoleon was aware of his limitations as a general, but made him a Marshal in 1804, as part of his emphasis on continuity between the republic and his new empire. Moncey was appointed inspector-general of the gendarmerie – France’s militarised police force - and spent most of the rest of his career commanding reserve troops. He only held one field command again – in light of his victorious record against the Spanish, he was given command of a corps for the 1808 invasion of Spain, operating in the south of the country with mixed success. In 1809 he was replaced by General Junot and returned to France. Moncey’s finest hour came in the dying days of the empire, leading the National Guard of Paris in a courageous but doomed defence of the French capital. In 1815 the restored King of France, Louis the Eighteenth, ordered Marshal Moncey to preside at the trial of Marshal Ney, for treason. Moncey regarded Ney as a hero for having saved so many French lives in Russia, and refused, declaring “If I am not allowed to save my country, nor my own life, then at least I will save my honour.” After a short spell in prison, Moncey was allowed to resume his military career, becoming governor of Les Invalides, in which role he presided over the repatriation of Napoleon’s remains from Saint-Helena in 1840. At the end of the ceremony, the 86 year-old Marshal Moncey announced: “And now, let us go home to die”. 20. Marshal Poniatowski Prince JĂłzef Poniatowski was the King of Poland’s nephew, but his military career began as a cavalry officer in the Austrian army, even serving as aide-de-camp to Emperor Josef the Second himself. In 1789 he transferred to the Polish army with the rank of major-general, but could not save Poland from partition by its rapacious neighbours - Russia, Prussia and Austria. By 1795 Poland had vanished from the map, swallowed up by its rivals. After Napoleon’s defeat of Prussia in 1806, Poniatowski decided loyal service to the French Emperor was the best way to win Poland’s restoration, although he never fully trusted Napoleon’s aims. Sombre, serious and brave, Poniatowski proved an able commander of Duchy of Warsaw forces in Napoleon’s service. When war broke out with Austria in 1809, while Napoleon advanced on Vienna, Poniatowski waged a brilliant, supporting campaign against a larger Austrian army in Galicia. For the invasion of Russia, he commanded the Polish Fifth Corps. He and his troops distinguished themselves first at Smolensk, and again at Borodino, leading the attack on the right wing. Poniatowski and his corps performed heroically throughout the campaign, motivated in part by their old animosity towards Russia. But by the end of the retreat, Fifth Corps had been virtually destroyed. Poniatowski remained loyal to Napoleon, even though the disaster in Russia paved the way for the Russian re-occupation of Poland. He rejoined Napoleon in Germany in 1813, and was given command of the Polish Eighth Corps. On the eve of the Battle of Leipzig, he was made a Marshal by Napoleon, in recognition of his service, and to inspire his Polish troops. Poniatowski was the only non-Frenchman to receive this honour. He and his troops fought with their usual tenacity and skill at Leipzig, holding key villages on the southern front against the Austrian and Prussian onslaught. At the end of the battle Poniatowski commanded part of the rearguard. But their only escape route, a bridge over the Elster River, was blown up too soon. Badly wounded, Poniatowski tried to escape by riding his horse across the river. But he was swept from his saddle and drowned. He had been a Marshal for just four days. In the short term, Poniatowski’s loyalty to France achieved nothing, as, following Napoleon’s defeat, Russia occupied Poland for the next century. But Poniatowski’s legend lived on: a model of Polish patriotism that inspired future generations. 19. Marshal Jourdan As a young French private, Jourdan saw combat in Georgia during the American Revolutionary War. But he then caught a fever that led to his discharge, and plagued him for the rest of his life. When the French Revolution began, he was elected captain of his local National Guard unit, fought at the battles of Jemappes and Hondschoote, and was rapidly promoted to general. In 1794 he made his name defeating Coalition forces at the Battle of Fleurus. This was a crucial victory of the Revolutionary War, which handed France control of Belgium for 20 years. It was also notable for the French army’s use of balloon reconnaissance – the first effective use of an aircraft in military history. Jourdan became a prominent politician under the Directory, lending his name to a law that formalised France’s policy of mass conscription. As a committed republican, Jourdan refused to support Napoleon’s coup of 18 Brumaire, but his fame as ‘the victor of Fleurus’ was enough to ensure he became a Marshal in 1804. Jourdan was on good terms with Napoleon’s elder brother Joseph. When Joseph became King of Spain in 1808, Jourdan went with him as his military advisor. But the situation in Spain would prove beyond Jourdan’s military skills to solve. He faced stubborn resistance from the Spanish and Portuguese, supported by the British – and an equally stubborn refusal to co-operate from other French Marshals in Spain - theoretically under Jourdan’s command, but who repeatedly ignored his orders and openly questioned his competence. Marshal Soult in Andalucia was a prime offender, while Marshal Victor’s insubordination at the Battle of Talavera contributed directly to the French defeat. Struck by another bout of ill health, Jourdan went home to recover. Two years later he returned to Spain, but at the Battle of Vitoria in 1813, he and King Joseph were outmanoeuvred and decisively beaten by Wellington, leading to the collapse of the Bonapartist kingdom of Spain. Jourdan never held a major command again. But his twenty years of service and evident patriotism were widely recognised and respected. He was made a peer by Napoleon, a count by Louis the Eighteenth, and died in 1833 while serving as Governor of Les Invalides. 18. Marshal Bernadotte Bernadotte enlisted in the French royal army aged 17, and proved a model soldier, rising to become the senior non-commissioned officer in his regiment in just ten years. The French Revolution and active service opened the door to rapid promotion: he was made an officer, and thanks to exemplary leadership and courage, rose in rank from captain to general of division in a single year. Not even Napoleon rose through the ranks as quickly. He particularly distinguished himself at Fleurus, leading an attack that helped secure Jourdan’s famous victory. As a professional soldier and ex-sergeant major, Bernadotte insisted on the highest standards of discipline and conduct from his men. He even fought a duel with his own chief of staff, whom he accused of taking a bribe. In 1797, Bernadotte was transferred to Italy, where he served under Napoleon’s command for the first time. By this stage both men had brilliant reputations, but despite a good first meeting, a clash of styles and jealous rivalry soon emerged between them. What’s more Bernadotte had immediately got on the wrong side of the future Marshal Berthier, Napoleon’s chief of staff, by arresting one of his friends for insubordination. In 1798 Bernadotte married Napoleon’s ex-fiancĂ©e, DĂ©sirĂ©e Clary. Her sister Julie was married to Napoleon’s brother Joseph, meaning Bernadotte.. was now family. But when Napoleon asked Bernadotte to support his coup of 18 Brumaire, he refused, though he did not actively oppose it. Napoleon suspected Bernadotte of conspiring against him, but the Clary sisters helped to keep the peace. Throughout this period Bernadotte held key posts, as Minister of War in 1799, Commander of the Army of the West in 1800, and Governor of Hanover in 1804, proving highly effective in each role. That year, Napoleon made Bernadotte a Marshal, and he commanded First Corps at the Battle of Austerlitz, playing a relatively minor part in the Emperor’s great victory. Nevertheless, he was rewarded with the title ‘Prince of Pontecorvo’. But his relationship with Napoleon remained difficult. In 1806, as Napoleon took on Prussia, Bernadotte was blamed for failing to support Marshal Davout at the Battle of Auerstedt, and was nearly court-martialled
 though Bernadotte partly redeemed himself, with a vigorous pursuit of the beaten Prussians. The next year he missed the Battle of Eylau, after his orders were intercepted by the Russians, and a gunshot wound to the neck meant he also missed the Battle of Friedland, with command of First Corps passing to General Victor. When war resumed with Austria in 1809, Bernadotte was given command of the Ninth Saxon Corps. On the evening of the first day at the gigantic Battle of Wagram, his troops were in heavy fighting with the Austrians – but dressed in white, like the Austrians, they came under devastating friendly fire, panicked, and routed. The next morning Bernadotte pulled his men back without orders, and when they later retreated again, he and the Emperor exchanged sharp words on the battlefield. Bernadotte then issued a proclamation to the Saxons, praising their conduct - and outraging Napoleon. Bernadotte was sent in semi-disgrace to the Dutch coast, to oversee the defeat of a major British landing at Walcheren. But another triumphant proclamation, effectively publicising the strength of his forces, further infuriated Napoleon. In an unlikely twist of fate, in 1810, Swedish politicians invited Bernadotte to become Crown Prince of Sweden: the current king was old and childless, and Bernadotte was a proven general and administrator, member of the French imperial family, and well-regarded by Swedish army officers, who remembered his fair treatment of Swedish prisoners three years earlier, in Pomerania. Napoleon was at first bemused, remarking that he could think of other Marshals who were better qualified. But he did give his assent, even when Bernadotte made it clear that as Crown Prince, he would pursue Swedish interests. He was true to his word. Three years later, with Napoleon on the ropes after his disastrous invasion of Russia, Crown Prince Bernadotte brought Sweden into the Sixth Coalition, and declared war on France. With his insider knowledge, he helped the Allies to devise the ‘Trachenberg Plan’ – a strategy for defeating Napoleon in Germany, by avoiding battle with Napoleon himself, and targeting only his Marshals. In September Bernadotte defeated former comrades Marshals Oudinot and Ney at Dennewitz. Five weeks later, he played a major role in the great Allied victory at Leipzig. Bernadotte’s legacy would prove the most lasting of any of Napoleon’s Marshals: the royal house of Bernadotte sits on the Swedish throne to this day. Bernadotte was labelled a traitor by Napoleon’s supporters – though not by Napoleon himself. He was unquestionably a gifted soldier and administrator, but his personality clash, and long-running feud with the Emperor, meant he was never a great Marshal. 17. Marshal Augereau Augereau had, by his own account, an eventful younger life, serving at various times with the French, Russian, and Prussian armies
 deserting or being kicked out of all three in dubious circumstances. He briefly earned a living in Dresden as a fencing master with a feared reputation as a duellist. He embraced the French Revolution, and joined a volunteer cavalry regiment known as the German Legion, before holding various staff and training roles, where his experience in the regular Prussian army proved valuable. Promoted to general, Augereau served in the Eastern Pyrenees, where his flair for tactics and bold, decisive action helped win a series of victories over the Spanish. Later serving in Italy under Napoleon, Augereau proved a highly effective divisional commander. The future Emperor’s reports were glowing: “Strong character, firmness, energy, has the habit of war, liked by his men and lucky.” In 1796, Augereau played a leading role in Napoleon’s victories over the Austrians at Castiglione... and Arcole. In fact, the painting of Augereau’s heroism at Arcole Bridge
 long predates the more famous version by Vernet, in which Napoleon takes centre stage, and is an even greater work of fiction. Augereau’s standing among fellow generals, however, was damaged by an enthusiasm for looting to rival General Brune, while others were irritated by his loud and boastful manner. Augereau was known to be a reliable republican, and in 1797 Napoleon sent him to Paris to be the military muscle for the coup of 18 Fructidor. This was an army-backed purge of pro-royalist politicians, threatening to restore the French monarchy. A brief spell in charge of the Army of the Rhine demonstrated that Augereau was not suited for high command, as his unruly entourage and obsession with plunder caused chaos at headquarters. As a republican, Augereau initially opposed Napoleon’s seizure of political power, but soon sensed which way the wind was blowing, and pledged support. Created a Marshal in 1804, status, wealth and declining health served to mellow Augereau’s behaviour. He commanded Seventh Corps in the 1805 campaign, but was held in reserve, and missed the great battles of Ulm and Austerlitz. The following year, he was in the thick of the fighting at Jena, leading Seventh Corps against the Prussian southern flank. At Eylau in 1807, Augereau was so ill he had to be strapped to his horse, but led Seventh Corps into battle in terrible winter conditions. Ordered to advance, his corps lost its way in a blizzard, was mown down by Russian guns, charged and virtually destroyed. Augereau himself was hit, and crushed under his own horse. He returned to France to recover, but was never the same again. His energy and zeal were gone. During Napoleon’s war in Spain, he was sent to replace Saint-Cyr as commander of the Army of Catalonia. He completed the grim, 7-month siege of Girona, but was soon replaced by Macdonald for his lacklustre performance. In 1812, Augereau commanded depots and reinforcements in the rear, as the Grande ArmĂ©e marched to its destruction in Russia. However at Leipzig he was briefly back to his best, inspiring his small corps of conscripts to fight for several key villages in the south, in the face of relentless Austrian attack. In 1814 Napoleon gave Augereau command of the Army of the RhĂŽne. But he surrendered Lyon without a fight, and on news of Napoleon’s abdication, denounced his former Emperor as ‘a man who, having sacrificed millions of victims to his cruel ambitions, has not known how to die like a soldier.’ When Napoleon returned from exile in 1815, Augereau proclaimed his loyalty once more, but the Emperor was not interested. Augereau was stripped of his baton, and died the next year. 16. Marshal Lefebvre François Lefebvre was a sergeant with 16 years’ service in the elite Gardes Françaises when the French Revolution broke out. When the Guard was disbanded, he became an officer in the Paris National Guard, and received the first of many wounds protecting the royal family from an angry mob. Every inch the soldier, the Revolutionary Wars brought Lefebvre opportunity for active command and rapid promotion: in just two years he rose from captain to general, establishing a reputation as a formidable divisional commander: a good tactician, brave, energetic, and attentive to the needs of his men. His chief of staff, the future Marshal Soult, acknowledged that he learned much from Lefebvre’s example. In 1799 Lefebvre commanded the Paris military district. Not much impressed by politicians, when Napoleon asked him to support a coup, he was all for it, declaring, “Yes! Let’s throw the lawyers into the river!” In 1804 Napoleon made Lefebvre an Honorary Marshal – honorary, because Napoleon assumed Lefebvre would prefer a quiet life in the Senate, after a decade’s active service with the scars to prove it. But he’d underestimated Lefebvre, who pleaded for a frontline role
 so the Emperor gave him command of the Imperial Guard infantry for the Jena campaign. The next year, Lefebvre commanded the siege of Danzig, inspiring the troops of Tenth Corps by leading one counter-attack in person. After the successful conclusion of the siege, Napoleon awarded Lefebvre the title Duke of Danzig. Lefebvre’s record as a corps commander was mixed – in Spain he exasperated Napoleon by twice ignoring orders. But in 1809, when Archduke Charles of Austria launched a sudden attack on Bavaria, Lefebvre’s Bavarian Seventh Corps was crucial in slowing the enemy advance
 until Napoleon arrived to take charge. He was then given the difficult task of suppressing a popular revolt in the Tyrol, led by Andreas Hofer, which he achieved despite some early setbacks. For the invasion of Russia, Lefebvre commanded the infantry of the Old Guard. During the retreat from Moscow, the 57-year-old Marshal insisted on marching on foot, at the head of the Guard, all the way. At the end of the retreat, he was devastated to learn that his son, a 27-year-old general, was among nearly 100,000 men who had not survived the march. He had been Lefebvre’s last surviving child
 of fourteen. After a year recovering from exhaustion and grief, Lefebvre returned to lead the Old Guard one last time in the defence of France, and was in heavy fighting at Montmirail and Montereau. But in April 1814, he was one of the Marshals who confronted Napoleon with the reality of his position, and forced him to abdicate. Lefebvre and his wife, an ex-washerwoman turned Duchess, were famous for their lack of airs and graces, for honest, blunt speech, and for always helping out old comrades. When a friend commented on Lefebvre’s wealth and titles, the Marshal invited him into the courtyard: “I'll have ten shots at you with a musket at 30 paces”, he told him, “If I miss, the whole estate is yours." When the friend declined, Lefebvre added, "I had a thousand bullets fired at me from closer before I got all this." Lefebvre was too exhausted to take an active role in the Waterloo campaign, though he accepted a role as a Senator under Napoleon, which led to a brief period in disgrace when the Bourbons returned. His rank and honours were restored to him a year before his death in 1820. 15. Marshal Mortier Édouard Mortier was from a prosperous middle-class background in northern France. When the French Revolution began in 1789, he volunteered for the National Guard – a new middle-class militia charged with preserving order, and defending against counter revolution. When war broke out with France’s neighbours, Mortier’s unit was sent to the front. Standing 6 foot 4, Mortier was conspicuous for his height and bravery, being wounded twice, and winning praise from his commander, the future Marshal Lefebvre. In 1799, Mortier fought under General MassĂ©na’s command at the Second Battle of Zurich, helping to defeat the Russians, and winning promotion to the rank of general of division. Mortier then spent three years commanding the Paris military district. His efficiency impressed the new First Consul, Napoleon Bonaparte, who chose him for an important mission in 1803: the occupation of Hanover, a German state belonging to the Hanoverian kings of Britain, with whom France was once more at war. Mortier carried out this assignment with tact and diplomacy, ensuring the occupation was unopposed. This delighted Napoleon, who rewarded him a year later with the rank of Marshal. Following Napoleon’s victory over the Austrians at Ulm in 1805, Mortier and his new Eighth Corps led the pursuit of the retreating Russians
 but became encircled by a much larger force at DĂŒrenstein. Mortier fought his way out of the trap with a night-time bayonet charge: a remarkable escape, but his corps suffered heavy losses. Mortier and Eighth Corps were in a supporting role for the Jena campaign of 1806. But the next year at Friedland, his corps played an important role holding Napoleon’s left wing, as the Emperor inflicted a devastating defeat on the Russians. Mortier was well liked by all, and almost uniquely, did not engage in feuds and rivalries with the other Marshals. Oudinot was a particular friend: in East Prussia, their party trick was to snuff out the candles with pistol-shots; they always paid generous compensation for damage caused. In 1808, Mortier joined Napoleon for the invasion of Spain, and commanded Fifth Corps at the brutal Siege of Zaragoza. He then helped win a series of victories over Spanish forces, including the crushing victory at Ocaña, operating alongside another friend, Marshal Soult. Mortier was recalled to France to organise and train the Young Guard – a new, junior unit of the Imperial Guard, made up of the best conscripts from each year’s intake. Mortier led the Young Guard in Russia in 1812, but was powerless to prevent the corps’ destruction on that campaign - first through exhaustion and disease on the march to Moscow; then on the retreat – where his surviving troops were effectively sacrificed, to hold open the road at Krasny and allow the army’s escape. Mortier continued to command the Young Guard during Napoleon’s campaigns in Germany and France, and was never far from the action: at LĂŒtzen he was trapped under his wounded horse, was in heavy fighting at Leipzig, and had his hat shot through outside Paris. In 1814, the final defence of the French capital fell to troops under Mortier and Marmont, with support from Marshal Moncey’s National Guard. Mortier told his men, “We have not enough troops to resist their large armies for long; but today, more than ever before, we are fighting for our honour.” When Napoleon returned from exile in 1815, he wanted Mortier to resume his customary role at the head of the Young Guard, but a severe attack of sciatica prevented him joining the Emperor at Waterloo. Napoleon never regarded Mortier as suitable for major, independent command, but his loyalty and conduct were always beyond reproach. He went on to serve the restored monarchy as ambassador to Russia, and briefly, minister for war. In 1835, he was riding beside King Louis Philippe in a public parade
 when an assassin opened fire with a home-made, multi-barrelled gun: the king received a minor wound, but Marshal Mortier and 17 others were killed. 14. Marshal Marmont Marmont, like Napoleon, was a trained artillery officer, and met the future-Emperor for the first time at the Siege of Toulon, where Napoleon made his name. They formed a friendship, and when Napoleon was given command of the French army in Italy, he took Major Marmont with him as an aide-de-camp. Marmont distinguished himself at several of Napoleon’s early victories in Italy, and was commanding his own artillery regiment by the age of 23. As part of Napoleon’s inner circle, Marmont accompanied him on his expedition to Egypt in 1798, fighting in the battles of Alexandria and the Pyramids. Naturally, he backed Napoleon’s coup of 18 Brumaire, as Napoleon overthrew the Directory, and made himself First Consul of France. Six months later, Napoleon led an army over the Alps into Italy. It was his artillery commander, General Marmont, who figured out how to get the cannon through the mountain passes using man-hauled sledges. At the ensuing Battle of Marengo, Marmont’s skilled handling of the artillery helped Napoleon to win a decisive victory over the Second Coalition. Two years later, Marmont was made inspector-general of artillery, working with Napoleon to implement reforms that improved firepower, mobility and supply. Marmont was bitterly disappointed not to be among the first Marshals created in 1804. But he was still only 29, and Napoleon assured him that time was on his side. He was further frustrated in 1805, when his corps was sent to guard the army’s strategic southern flank, and so missed the great victory at Austerlitz. The spoils of that war included Dalmatia, which Marmont was sent to govern in 1806. Though he lived in extravagant luxury, his reforms and infrastructure projects were so effective that even the Emperor of Austria later admitted, “It’s a great pity that Marmont was not in Dalmatia two or three years longer!” When war broke out with Austria again in 1809, Marmont marched north with Eleventh Corps to join Napoleon near Vienna. But at the great Battle of Wagram, his troops remained in reserve, while the other corps were engaged in ferocious fighting. At last an opportunity to prove himself came, as Napoleon ordered him to pursue the retreating Austrians. But reckless over-enthusiasm nearly led to disaster at Znaim. A week later, Napoleon created three new Marshals: Macdonald, Oudinot and Marmont. “Macdonald for France”, it was said, “Oudinot for the army; Marmont for friendship.” Napoleon then rather undermined the moment, by telling Marmont, “Between ourselves, you’ve not yet done enough to justify my choice.” His big chance came in 1811 when he was sent to Spain to replace Marshal Massena. But after a promising start, and some bold manoeuvring against the British on the Douro River, he stumbled into disaster at Salamanca: Marmont himself was an early casualty of the battle, badly wounded by a shell burst and carried from the field
 as Wellington routed his army. After convalescing in France, Marmont was back with the Grande ArmĂ©e in 1813, as Napoleon battled to save his empire. He commanded Sixth Corps throughout the campaign in Germany, fighting at LĂŒtzen, Bautzen, and Dresden. At Leipzig.. he held the northern sector with skill and determination, making BlĂŒcher’s Prussians pay a high price for the village of Möckern. Marmont played an important role in Napoleon’s 1814 defence of France, shadowing BlĂŒcher’s movements along the Marne River, and guarding the road to Paris. But by now he was showing signs of exhaustion and disillusion. At the Battle of Laon, he allowed his corps to be surprised by the enemy, with heavy loss. Napoleon’s stinging criticism may have been the moment that ended Marmont’s loyalty. He was the senior Marshal in Paris when the Allies attacked on 30th March. After a day’s fighting, and facing inevitable defeat, he negotiated the city’s surrender. Five days later, with Napoleon at Fontainebleau still planning to march on Paris, Marmont marched his corps over to the Allied lines and surrendered. Napoleon was shocked at this betrayal by one of his oldest comrades. He’d already been persuaded that he must try to abdicate in favour of his three-year old son – now he accepted that he must abdicate without conditions. Whether Marmont acted to save lives, out of self-interest or spite, or a combination of all three, remains the subject of heated debate. We do know that he was well rewarded by the restored Bourbon king, and never forgiven by Bonaparte loyalists. As military commander of Paris in 1830, Marmont could not prevent the next revolution, and had to flee France. He spent the rest of his life in exile, becoming tutor, while he was in Vienna, to Napoleon’s son the Duke of Reichstadt. He was the last of Napoleon’s Marshals to die, in Venice, in 1852. 13. Marshal Saint-Cyr Gouvion Saint-Cyr was a gifted student, who ran away from a miserable childhood to become an artist. A passionate republican, he embraced the French Revolution and later volunteered for military service. Though proud and aloof by nature, his republican politics and sharp intellect ensured he was elected captain of his company. His skill at drawing enemy positions then got him noticed by General Custine, who gave him a job on his staff. During these turbulent early years of the Revolution, Custine was one of several generals who was punished for his defeats... with a trip to the guillotine. Saint-Cyr’s instinctive grasp of warfare, brilliant planning and tactics, won him promotion from volunteer to general of division in two years – an even more remarkable achievement as he’d had no formal military training. But his cold, analytical approach meant that he was always a respected leader, rather than loved. After five years’ service with the Army of the Rhine he was sent to Italy. At the disastrous Battle of Novi, he commanded the French right wing, but skilfully extricated his troops from the debacle. The next year he was back on the Rhine, and won a brilliant victory over the Austrians at Biberach. But a bitter dispute with his commander, General Moreau, encouraged rumours that Saint-Cyr was impossible to work with. Saint-Cyr believed soldiers should not meddle in politics, and did not support Napoleon’s seizure of power in 1799. Nor did he show much enthusiasm for Napoleon’s decision to crown himself Emperor five years later. His political views cost him dearly: Saint-Cyr was side-lined for several years, while less able generals were made Marshals. In 1805 he commanded French forces in central Italy, but when he was made subordinate to Marshal MassĂ©na, a man whom he personally detested, he returned to Paris, even when Napoleon threatened to have him shot for desertion. In 1808 Saint-Cyr was given command of a corps for the invasion of Spain. But his failure to take Gerona meant he was relieved of command. Leaving in a fury before his replacement Marshal Augereau had arrived, he was nearly court martialled again for desertion. Saint-Cyr’s military talent, however, was not in doubt. In 1812 he was recalled for the Russia campaign, with command of Sixth Bavarian Corps. His role was to support Marshal Oudinot in guarding the northern flank of the French salient. When Wittgenstein’s Russians attacked at Polotsk, Oudinot was wounded, and Saint-Cyr took over command, turning probable defeat into a brilliant victory. For this achievement, Napoleon awarded Saint-Cyr his Marshal’s baton. But two months later, at a Second Battle of Polotsk, Saint-Cyr was attacked by a larger Russian army, seriously wounded in the foot, and forced to pull back. His injury meant he missed the worst horrors of the Russian retreat, but he contracted typhus early in 1813, and was sick for many months. Saint-Cyr returned to the Grande ArmĂ©e in August, taking command of Fourteenth Corps and the defence of Dresden. Incredibly, this was the first and only time that he worked directly alongside the Emperor, and both soon learned new respect for each other’s abilities. Saint-Cyr’s skilled defence of Dresden set the stage for Napoleon’s great victory there later that month. But Saint-Cyr was incredulous when Napoleon later ordered him to remain in Dresden
 while other forces concentrated for the decisive Battle of Leipzig, 60 miles to the west. Napoleon’s defeat at Leipzig meant that Saint-Cyr, and other garrisons in the east, were cut-off, and had to surrender that autumn. Saint-Cyr took no part in the Hundred Days, determined to keep out of France’s political disputes. Under the restored monarchy, he served as Minister of War, and tried but failed to save Marshal Ney from the death penalty. He also struggled to enact military reforms in the face of royalist opposition, eventually resigning in disgust, and retiring to his country estate. Marshal Saint-Cyr remains one of the great ‘what-ifs’ of the Napoleonic Wars – an extremely able commander, side-lined for his politics
 who might well have proved one of Napoleon’s very best Marshals. 12. Marshal Oudinot Nicolas Oudinot ran away to join the army aged 17, but his father dragged him home 3 years later to help run the family business. When the Revolution began he volunteered for the National Guard and was promoted Major. In the wars that followed he served with the Army of the Rhine, always in the thick of the fighting, rapidly promoted and frequently wounded – a habit for which he became celebrated. In 1799 he was promoted to General of Division and sent to Switzerland, to serve as General MassĂ©na’s new chief of staff, a role he performed ‘to perfection.’ Serving with General Brune in Italy, he led a cavalry charge against an Austrian battery at the Battle of Monzembano, sabring gunners and capturing one cannon himself, a feat for which Napoleon awarded him a sword of honour. In 1805, the newly-crowned Emperor Napoleon gave Oudinot command of an elite Grenadier Division, formed from the tallest, strongest soldiers in the army. In December that year, at the Battle of Austerlitz, Oudinot insisted on leading the division in person, despite having been shot in the thigh two weeks earlier. His grenadiers were kept in reserve for most of the battle, but saw heavy fighting in the latter stages, as Napoleon completed the destruction of the Allied left wing. At the siege of Danzig in 1807, General Oudinot’s division had the unusual distinction of capturing an enemy warship – a British sloop, that had run aground trying to resupply the city. A month later at Friedland, Oudinot and his grenadiers were under Marshal Lannes’ command, and played a crucial role holding up the Russian army
 until Napoleon arrived to deal a decisive blow. During the 1809 war with Austria, Oudinot was wounded once more at the Battle of Aspern. When Marshal Lannes died of his wounds, Napoleon chose Oudinot to succeed him as commander of Second Corps. He led his new corps with such success at Wagram six weeks later, that Napoleon attributed victory to MassĂ©na
 and Oudinot. A week later he became one of three new Marshals: ‘one for France, one for the army, one for friendship’. Oudinot: the army’s choice – fearless and much loved, a man whose courage inspired all around him. He later received an additional reward – the title Duke of Reggio. In 1812 Marshal Oudinot led Second Corps into Russia, but was wounded again at Polotsk, and handed over command to General Saint-Cyr. Ten weeks later he was back with his corps, marching south to join up with Napoleon’s army on its retreat from Moscow. Oudinot’s men were shocked when they saw their old comrades from the main column: they looked more like fugitives than soldiers of the Grande ArmĂ©e. Since Oudinot’s Second Corps was in better shape than most, it formed the vanguard for the desperate crossing of the Berezina River. But the next day, in bitter fighting to hold the bridgehead against the Russians, Oudinot was shot from his saddle. He was carried back to a cottage with a serious gunshot wound, but then he and his party became surrounded by Cossacks. Oudinot asked for his pistols and, “from his bed, aiming through an opening opposite, began firing at the Cossacks.” They were rescued by friendly troops just in time. Oudinot was back with the Grande ArmĂ©e in Germany in 1813. In August, Napoleon ordered him to lead an advance on Berlin, but he was defeated by Bernadotte’s Army of the North at Grossbeeren. He then retreated in the wrong direction, causing Napoleon to remark, “It’s truly difficult to have less brains than the Duke of Reggio”. In Oudinot’s defence, he’d probably been given an impossible task – insufficient men to take on a strong opponent, bad weather, terrible roads, and he himself unwell - possibly not yet recovered from his ordeal in Russia. Napoleon put Oudinot back where he was most effective, leading troops in combat under his close supervision. At Leipzig, he commanded two divisions of the Young Guard, engaged in heavy fighting on the southern front for two days. Oudinot continued to serve the Emperor courageously and loyally as a corps commander in the final campaign of 1814 – but in April, he was one of several Marshals to confront Napoleon with the reality of his position, and force his abdication. When Napoleon returned from exile in 1815, Oudinot refused to break his new oath to the monarchy, but declared neutrality, telling Napoleon, “Since I shall not serve you, Sire, I shall serve no-one.” He continued to hold senior commands under the Bourbons. By one estimate, Oudinot was wounded 36 times in his military career, more than any other Marshal. Here are just 20 that we found details for
 A fellow officer, who bathed with him at a spa after the war, saw the scars on his body and observed, “He was little more than a colander.” Ironically, Oudinot was also one of the longest-lived Marshals, dying aged 80, while serving as Governor of Les Invalides. 11. Marshal Victor Claude Victor-Perrin was an experienced soldier by the time of the French Revolution, a sergeant with 8 years’ service in the Grenoble Artillery Regiment. The Revolutionary Wars brought the opportunity for rapid promotion, and by 1793 he was commanding an infantry battalion at the Siege of Toulon. He led a daring night assault on British defences alongside the army’s artillery chief, a young Major Bonaparte. Both men were wounded, but the attack was a success, and both were quickly promoted to brigadier general. Victor served under General Bonaparte in Italy, and turned out to be a brilliant brigade commander. In 1800, he distinguished himself at the Battle of Marengo, where his command of the left wing won particular praise from Napoleon. But Victor did not hide his disapproval of Napoleon’s quest for political power, and as a result, received relatively minor roles under the new regime. In 1802 he was earmarked to lead an expedition to recover the French territory of Louisiana, but it was called off when Napoleon decided, instead, to sell Louisiana to the United States. Victor and Marshal Lannes were close friends from their days serving together in Italy. In 1806, Lannes persuaded Napoleon to let him have Victor as his new chief of staff for Fifth Corps. Napoleon agreed, and in October, Victor served as Lannes’ deputy at the Battle of Jena. Napoleon’s earlier misgivings about Victor were now forgotten, and that winter he was given command of the newly-formed Tenth Corps. But within weeks he was captured by a Prussian patrol, and had to be exchanged for a captured Prussian officer
 General von BlĂŒcher. His big break came in 1807, stepping in for the wounded Marshal Bernadotte to command First Corps at Friedland, where he successfully led a major attack as the Emperor looked on. Promotion to Marshal and the title Duke of Bellumo swiftly followed. In 1808, Marshal Victor and First Corps took part in the invasion of Spain, where he’d be posted for the next three years. Victor’s record in Spain was better than most, but like others, he seemed more interested in personal glory and rewards than in co-operating with fellow commanders. In 1809 at MedellĂ­n, he inflicted a crushing defeat on General Cuesta’s Spanish army. Four months later, his bold night attack on the British at Talavera came tantalisingly close to success. He was furious the next day when King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan refused to support fresh attacks, and instead ordered a cautious withdrawal. The next year Victor besieged the Spanish port of Cadiz. It proved a lengthy, futile operation, devoid of glory, and saw his troops defeated by an allied sortie at the Battle of Barrosa. In 1812 Victor was recalled from Spain for the invasion of Russia. His Ninth Corps was held in reserve for most of the campaign, though his troops were kept busy defending depots and convoys from Cossacks raids. That autumn, his corps attempted to cover the main army’s retreat from Moscow. The greatest crisis of the retreat came at the Berezina River. As the remnants of the Grande ArmĂ©e began crossing over two improvised bridges, Victor’s Ninth Corps was ordered to form the rearguard. Though heavily outnumbered, Victor skilfully handled his French and German troops, holding the Russians at bay as the army made its escape. He then marched his surviving troops over the bridges in good order – a courageous performance, in desperate circumstances. In Germany in 1813, Victor commanded Second Corps, and led the attack in Napoleon’s last great victory at Dresden. His corps was in heavy fighting again at Leipzig two months later. Victor continued to serve at the Emperor’s side in the defence of France in 1814. By now, like many comrades, he must have been close to physical and psychological exhaustion. Regardless, during the Battle of Montereau, Napoleon let fly at him for failing to get his troops into position, and blamed him for the Allies’ escape. Victor was relieved of command. But angry and humiliated at what he considered his unfair dismissal, he told the Emperor: “Marshal Victor has not forgotten his old trade. I will shoulder a musket and take my place in the Guard.” Moved by this response, Napoleon relented and gave Victor command of a corps of Young Guard. Two weeks later, he was badly wounded at the Battle of Craonne, and took no further part in the war. A month later Napoleon abdicated, and Victor switched his loyalty to the Bourbon monarchy
 with surprising zeal. He led an investigation into former comrades who’d supported Napoleon during the Hundred Days, and was one of only two active Marshals to vote for the death penalty for Marshal Ney - a decision he later claimed to regret. Victor later served as Minister of War, but retired from public life in 1830, following the overthrow of the Bourbon monarchy. 10. Marshal Murat Joachim Murat, the son of an innkeeper, was destined for a career in the church, but dropped out of college and joined a cavalry regiment instead. To his immense frustration, he saw little action in the early years of the Revolutionary Wars, being stuck with staff and training roles. But in 1795, while stationed in Paris with the 21st Chasseurs, fate intervened... A young general, Napoleon Bonaparte, had been put in charge of the defence of the National Convention. With a mob poised to storm the building, he ordered Captain Murat to bring him cannons, which he did, racing the guns through the city streets... allowing Napoleon to mow down the mob with a famous ‘whiff of grapeshot’. Napoleon was hailed as the saviour of the government, and rewarded with command of the Army of Italy. Murat was promoted Colonel and went with him as his new aide-de-camp. He soon made a name for himself as a bold and brilliant leader of cavalry
 while his 6 foot height, curly locks and love of women ensured fame as France’s foremost “beau sabreur”. In 1798 Murat joined Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt. At the Battle of Aboukir, his flanking charge broke the enemy, and Murat personally took the Ottoman commander prisoner, despite being shot in the jaw – a wound which, to his immense relief, did not ruin his looks. Back in Paris, Napoleon launched his coup d’état to seize political power. When he got a hostile reception from the Council of Five Hundred, it was Murat who saved the day, leading troops in to clear the chamber, shouting ‘Citizens, you have been dissolved’
 before adding something a bit more coarse. His place at the future Emperor’s side was further assured when he married Napoleon’s youngest sister Caroline in 1800. Later that year he commanded the French cavalry reserve at Marengo, and helped Napoleon to win a decisive victory over the Austrians. When Napoleon established his empire in 1804, Murat became a Marsal, second in seniority only to Berthier. He’d later also receive the title Prince of the Empire, and rank of Grand Admiral. In the 1805 campaign, he commanded Napoleon’s Cavalry Reserve – his excellent reconnaissance and diversions proving crucial in the encirclement of General Mack’s Austrian army at Ulm. Three weeks later, Murat and Marshal Lannes, who normally couldn’t stand each other, together bluffed an Austrian commander into surrendering a vital bridge, by persuading him that an armistice had been signed, when it hadn’t. It was a bold stunt, but overall, Napoleon was not impressed by Murat’s pursuit of the enemy: “I cannot approve your manner of march. You go on like a stunned fool taking not the least notice of my orders.” Yet in battle, Murat remained a brilliant and inspiring leader, as demonstrated at Austerlitz, and the next year at Jena, where he led the decisive charge wielding only his riding crop. The next year at Eylau, with the Russians poised to break through his centre, Napoleon ordered Murat to lead a mass cavalry charge straight at the enemy. Murat’s men succeeded, and saved the army from disaster – though at a terrible price in men and horses. Napoleon had rewarded Murat in 1806 by making him sovereign prince of the Grand Duchy of Berg. In 1808, he sent Murat to Spain to act as his representative. Spain was still a French ally, but in May, Napoleon’s heavy-handed meddling in Spanish affairs triggered a ferocious backlash. Madrid rose up against the French garrison
 and Murat’s troops fought back with brutal force – killing around 200, executing 300 more. When Napoleon deposed Spain’s Bourbon monarchy, Murat hoped he’d be made the new King of Spain, but that title went to Napoleon’s brother Joseph; Murat, instead, received the throne of Naples. If it felt like second prize... it wasn’t bad going for an innkeeper’s son, college dropout, and ex-cavalry trooper. Napoleon expected Murat to merely represent his interests in Naples, but Murat had other ideas: he reformed the Neapolitan army, equipping it with splendid new uniforms; and turned a blind eye to smuggling, which undermined Napoleon’s economic war against Britain - so-called Continental System. Relations between Murat and the Emperor became strained. But when Napoleon began planning to invade Russia in 1812, only Murat would do to lead his cavalry. Their differences were put to one side: Murat took command of four cavalry corps, and became Napoleon’s second-in-command. During the advance into Russia, Murat’s cavalry faced a difficult and frustrating task, trying to locate the enemy in a vast landscape. Horses died in their thousands from poor fodder and exhaustion. And they faced a dangerous and wily opponent in Russia’s Cossacks. Murat, always riding with the advance guard, was so fearless and conspicuous in his extravagant uniforms that the Cossacks came to admire him, calling out ‘Oorah! Murat!’ whenever they saw him, and hoped to capture him alive if possible. Murat was among those who tried to persuade Napoleon to halt the advance at Smolensk, but was ignored. At the great clash between the French and Russian armies at Borodino, Murat was at his best, directing a series of attacks on the Russian earthworks, always were the action was hottest, inspiring all with his courage. Murat remained with the army during the retreat from Moscow, though his magnificent cavalry had virtually ceased to exist. One eyewitness noted that throughout the ordeal, he never neglected his appearance – even at the Berezina, he looked splendid, in an open-necked shirt, velvet cloak, a white feather in his cap. When Napoleon left the army to return to Paris, he gave command to Marshal Murat. But Murat, now primarily concerned with hanging onto his kingdom, left the army a month later and returned to Naples, where he opened secret negotiations with the Coalition. He offered to join the war against Napoleon, if the other powers would let him keep his crown. But he received only a lukewarm response. So in 1813, when Napoleon asked Murat to join him in Germany, to fight for their thrones together, he answered the call. Murat had become increasingly difficult to work with: over-sensitive about his royal status, prone to tantrums
 but in battle, as fearless as ever. At Dresden, his charge through rain and mud shattered the Austrian left wing and paved the way for victory. But then at Liebertwolkwitz, he showed his limitations when not under Napoleon’s direct command – getting drawn into a major and unnecessary cavalry battle with Coalition forces, and twice nearly being captured himself. Two days later, at the Battle of Leipzig, he led another of history’s great cavalry charges – coming close to breaking the enemy centre, and even capturing the Allied monarchs. But it was not to be. The Battle of the Nations ended in a disastrous defeat. As Napoleon retreated to the French frontier, Murat informed the Emperor that he was leaving for Naples, promising to raise fresh troops. Murat and Napoleon would never meet again. Three months later, the King of Naples had cut a deal with the Coalition, and switched sides. “So long as it was possible for me to believe that the Emperor Napoleon was fighting to bring peace and glory to France, I fought loyally at his side,” Murat declared. “But now
 I know that the Emperor’s sole desire is war.” However, Murat’s commitment to the Sixth Coalition was distinctly half-hearted. His army marched against Eugene’s forces in northern Italy, but had done no actual fighting before news arrived of Napoleon’s abdication. Murat then began to suspect what had been obvious to Napoleon, at least: the Coalition was not going to honour its promise, and Murat would be next to lose his throne. So in 1815, encouraged by news of Napoleon’s return from exile, Murat marched north against the Austrians, proclaiming a war for Italian freedom and independence. Just seven weeks later, his campaign ended in defeat at the Battle of Tolentino. With the British and Austrians closing in, Murat became a hunted fugitive. He sailed to France, but Napoleon had not forgiven his betrayal, and refused to see him. After Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, he fled to Corsica, gathered a small band of volunteers and returned to Italy, in a hopelessly doomed attempt to start a revolution and reclaim his throne. Chased by a mob, and arrested on the beach, Murat was sentenced to death by the restored Bourbon monarchy of Naples. He met his end with his usual courage, telling the firing squad, “If you wish to spare me, aim at the heart!” 
then gave the order to fire himself. Murat is rightly remembered as one of the great battlefield cavalry commanders of history – inspirational, fearless, with brilliant tactical instinct. But outside of combat, he was, in Napoleon’s estimation, “
 a very poor general. He always waged war without maps.” Worse, when the conflict turned against France, he allowed self-interest and vanity to prevail over loyalty to the Emperor. As Napoleon’s Chief-of-Staff Marshal Berthier once told him: “You’re only a king by the grace of Napoleon and French blood. It’s black ingratitude that’s blinding you.” 9. Marshal BessiĂšres Jean-Baptiste BessiĂšres was the son of a surgeon, with a relatively prosperous upbringing in southwestern France. When the French Revolution began, he volunteered for the National Guard, and was sent to Paris to join the King’s Constitutional Guard, along with his old schoolfriend Joachim Murat. This unit was soon disbanded, but BessiĂšres remained in Paris, and was among the soldiers defending the Tuileries Palace, when it was stormed by the mob on 10th August 1792. In the aftermath, he needed to get out of Paris in a hurry. So he volunteered to fight on the Pyrenees front. His bravery and good sense won him a commission in the 22nd Chasseurs, and he distinguished himself at the Battle of Boulou. Transferred to Italy, his friendship with Murat got him noticed by the army commander General Bonaparte, who was impressed enough to make him commander of his new bodyguard, known as ‘Les Guides de Bonaparte’. BessiĂšres distinguished himself as a cavalry commander in Italy, and later Egypt, winning promotion to Brigadier and loyally supporting Napoleon at every turn. He became one of the few men that Napoleon regarded as a true friend. When Napoleon became First Consul of France in 1799, he rewarded BessiĂšres with command of the elite Consular Guard cavalry – which he led with devastating effect at Marengo the next year. In 1804 BessiĂšres became a Marshal – less for any great military achievement, than for being a loyal member of Napoleon’s inner circle. BessiĂšres himself was well-liked: kind, well-mannered and generous, a pious Catholic and social conservative, who liked to powder his hair in the old style. His young wife, Marie-Jeanne, was also a favourite at court, doted on by Napoleon and Empress Josephine. In 1805, BessiĂšres commanded the Imperial Guard. In December that year, at the Battle of Austerlitz, he played a crucial role, repelling the Russian Guard at the battle’s climax. At Eylau in 1807, his squadrons supported Murat’s mass cavalry charge, and made their own disciplined attacks to cover his withdrawal. However, BessiĂšres’ opportunities for glory were limited, as Napoleon always held the Guard back as his last reserve, as at Friedland. In 1808, BessiĂšres received his first major independent command in northern Spain. That May, the country erupted in revolt against the French. BessiĂšres reacted quickly and decisively, securing key towns and roads. He then attacked Spanish forces at Medina de Rioseco, winning a crushing victory against an enemy that outnumbered him two-to-one. But once the immediate crisis had passed, he hesitated, and failed to exploit his victory. When Napoleon arrived in Spain, BessiĂšres was given command of the Reserve Cavalry
 a role he retained for the war against Austria in 1809. In May, BessiĂšres and his cavalry were among the first across the Danube, with MassĂ©na occupying the village of Aspern on his left, and Lannes, holding Essling on the right. When the Austrian commander, Archduke Charles, launched a massive and unexpected counterattack, BessiĂšres, outnumbered four-to-one, made a series of desperate charges, helping to save the army from disaster. It came at a high cost. BessiĂšres and his cavalry performed bravely. But that night, a long-running feud with Marshal Lannes nearly came to blows, when Lannes accused BessiĂšres of hanging back. The matter went no further, as Lannes was fatally wounded the next day. BessiĂšres commanded the cavalry again at Wagram, leading a major attack to cover MassĂ©na’s redeployment to the left wing. As the charge began a cannonball killed BessiĂšres’ horse and injured his leg. A rumour reached the Imperial Guard that BessiĂšres was dead. Some old veterans began to weep for their old commander, until they were assured he was only wounded. “That was quite a cannonball,” Napoleon told BessiĂšres, “It reduced my Guard to tears!” As a devout Catholic, BessiĂšres was critical of Napoleon’s divorce from Empress Josephine, leading to a short spell out of favour. In 1811 he was sent back to Spain to command the Army of the North. He found an impossible situation – a widespread insurgency, and insufficient troops and supplies. He wrote bluntly to Napoleon, stating that the French must give up territory
 something the Emperor would never allow. For all his piety and refined manners, BessiĂšres ordered his share of executions and reprisals in his attempt to pacify northern Spain – brutal methods used by many French commanders in this conflict. Later that year, he joined forces with Marshal MassĂ©na’s Army of Portugal, to take on Wellington’s army at the Battle of Fuentes de Oñoro
 but was widely blamed for refusing to send in his cavalry to support MassĂ©na’s attacks. Unfortunately for Napoleon, this was typical of how many Marshals behaved in his absence – they’d rather watch another Marshal fail, than help them to win all the glory. In 1812, BessiĂšres accompanied Napoleon into Russia, commanding his Guard cavalry. Since the Guard was kept in reserve, he saw little action until the retreat, when he led the advance guard, clearing a path for the survivors. The disaster in Russia left BessiĂšres severely demoralised. But he was resolved to do his duty, now serving once more as Napoleon’s cavalry commander, in Marshal Murat’s absence. On 1st May 1813, BessiĂšres was scouting enemy positions before the Battle of LĂŒtzen, when a cannonball hit him in the chest, killing him instantly. His death robbed Napoleon of a dependable commander, and one of his last remaining friends. “It is surely a great loss for you and your children,“ Napoleon wrote to his widow, “but an even greater one for me." 8. Marshal Macdonald Jacques Macdonald’s father was a Scotsman who’d supported Bonnie Prince Charlie’s bid to seize the British throne in 1745. After this ended in defeat at Culloden, the family fled to France. Inspired by tales of the Trojan War, Macdonald chose a military life, and became a lieutenant in Dillon’s Irish Regiment – a French unit made up mostly of Irish Ă©migres. In the Revolutionary Wars, he won a reputation as a hard-working, intelligent and brave officer, and served as aide-de-camp to General Dumouriez, commanding the Army of the North. He distinguished himself in that general’s famous victory at Jemappes, paving the way for rapid promotion, from lieutenant to general in just two years. He led his division well during campaigns in Holland and Germany, and formed a close bond with one of France’s most successful commanders of this period, General Moreau. In 1798 he was sent to Rome as governor, and later commanded the Army of Naples. Summoned north the following year to reinforce Moreau’s Army of Italy, he was nearly killed in a skirmish with Austrian cavalry; and while still suffering from his wounds, his army was defeated at the Trebbia by a larger Coalition force, commanded by the great Russian general, Suvorov. But Macdonald’s own conduct won approval from General Bonaparte, among others. Later that year, he assisted Napoleon’s seizure of power in the Coup of 18 Brumaire, ensuring the loyalty of the troops at Versailles. He was rewarded with an army command in Switzerland, and that winter, led his men through the Alps to attack the Austrians in Italy. His march was far more challenging and dangerous than Napoleon’s, but was never immortalised in quite the same way. In 1804, Macdonald’s former commander General Moreau was arrested and charged with involvement in a plot to assassinate Napoleon. Macdonald stood up for his friend’s reputation – an act of loyalty typical of the man
 but disastrous for his career. Moreau was exiled; Macdonald was placed under police surveillance, and retired to his country estate in disgrace. Five years passed before Napoleon, desperate for experienced senior commanders, asked him to serve as military advisor to his 27-year old stepson Prince EugĂšne, now commanding the Army of Italy. Macdonald and EugĂšne worked well together, driving back the Austrians, and by an awesome feat of marching, joined Napoleon near Vienna in time for the Battle of Wagram. The second day of the battle was Macdonald’s moment. Entrusted by the Emperor with the main attack on the enemy centre, he formed his troops into a giant open-backed square, and advanced into a hail of fire. Napoleon, watching through his telescope, exclaimed several times, “What a brave man! What a brave man.” Macdonald’s costly attack helped to secure a great victory. The next day Napoleon went to find him on the battlefield, and greeted him with the words, “Let us be friends from now
 You have acted valiantly and given me the greatest services... On the battlefield of your glory, where I owe you so large a part of yesterday’s success, I make you a Marshal of France... You have long deserved it.” In addition, Macdonald received the title Duke of Taranto and a large pension. But as time would prove, his loyalty remained to France, not to Napoleon. Macdonald spent an unhappy year in Catalonia, commanding troops in what he regarded as an immoral war – in his memoirs he even praised the ‘noble and courageous resistance’ of the Spanish. In 1812, he was given command of Tenth Corps for the invasion of Russia. This corps, composed of German troops and reluctant Prussian allies, guarded the left flank of the invasion, and had a relatively quiet campaign. In December, the Prussians suddenly agreed an armistice with the Russians, leaving the loyal remnants of Macdonald’s corps to fight their way back to Poland. By 1813, Napoleon relied on Macdonald as one of his senior Marshals. In August, he gave him command of the forces keeping watch on General BlĂŒcher’s Army of Silesia. But when Macdonald advanced across the Katzbach river, torrential rain and flooding caused chaos among his troops, just as they encountered BlĂŒcher’s army. BlĂŒcher launched an immediate attack, and Macdonald’s army was routed. Thousands of his new conscripts surrendered or deserted; hundreds were driven into the river itself. Macdonald took full responsibility for the disaster, though his lack of cavalry and some bad luck were also to blame. Napoleon certainly continued to respect Macdonald’s military judgement. He continued to command Eleventh Corps, and was in the thick of the fighting at Leipzig two months later. Macdonald was with the rearguard when the French retreat began, and was shocked to see the chaos that engulfed the army. When the Elster Bridge was blown too early, he himself was trapped on the wrong side of the river, and just managed to swim to safety under enemy fire. Macdonald continued to serve Napoleon as a loyal and reliable commander throughout the 1814 campaign, effectively serving as his deputy at several key moments. Unlike most Marshals, Macdonald was never under Napoleon’s spell, and always spoke his mind to the Emperor. This in itself was a valuable service, though it sometimes led to heated arguments. Perhaps inevitably, in April, it was Macdonald and Ney who took the lead in confronting Napoleon with the facts of his situation: the war was lost, and he must abdicate. Napoleon named Macdonald as one of the three men who’d negotiate with the allies, telling his foreign minister, the Marquis de Caulaincourt, “Macdonald does not like me, but he is a man of his word, of high principles, and he can be relied on.” In their last meeting a few days later, Napoleon told Macdonald, “I did not know you well; I was prejudiced against you. I have done so much for so many others who’ve abandoned me. And you, who owe me nothing, have remained faithful. I appreciate your loyalty too late.” Macdonald was kept on as a military advisor by France’s restored Bourbon monarchy. He continued to speak his mind, so much so that Louis the Eighteenth nicknamed him ‘His Outspokenness’. During the Hundred Days, Macdonald remained loyal to the King, and attempted to rally troops to fight against Napoleon. When he saw this was futile, he escorted the King to safety in Belgium, then returned to Paris, where he refused to meet with Napoleon. After the defeat at Waterloo, he was put in charge of demobilising the last elements of Napoleon’s Grande ArmĂ©e, and helped many officers to escape arrest by the Bourbons. Macdonald was a methodical, reliable if unspectacular commander. But he distinguished himself above all by his lack of vanity or personal ambition, his complete loyalty to France, and his willingness to speak his mind – virtues that were all too rare among Napoleon’s Marshals. 7. Marshal MassĂ©na AndrĂ© MassĂ©na was born in Nice, at that time not technically part of France, but of the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia. His father, a shopkeeper, died when he was young, so he ran away to sea, then at 17, enlisted in the French army. He was quickly made a sergeant, but a commoner could rise no higher in the royal army, so after 14 years’ service, he quit. When the French Revolution began, he re-enlisted in a local volunteer battalion. MassĂ©na, supremely self-confident and unfazed by any challenge, was elected to command the battalion, and led it with success against the Austrians on the Piedmontese front. Despite his lack of education, he proved an instinctive combat leader: he was soon promoted to brigadier
 and after leading a successful attack at the Siege of Toulon, was made General of Division. He won an impressive victory over the Austrians at Loano in 1795, and when the Army of Italy’s commander, General SchĂ©rer resigned, over lack of support from the government in Paris, many expected MassĂ©na to replace him. Instead, the job went to the 26 year-old General Bonaparte – 11 years younger and much less experienced than MassĂ©na, but with far better political connections. Nevertheless, Napoleon and MassĂ©na worked together brilliantly: MassĂ©na commanded his advance guard, and played a major role in several of his early victories. In reports, Napoleon described MassĂ©na as “active, tireless, audacious
”. He won so many battles that Napoleon acclaimed him ‘L’enfant gĂątĂ© de la victoire’ – the spoiled child of victory. MassĂ©na was, however, notorious for extorting vast sums from the local Italians, often while his own troops went hungry and without pay. In 1798 MassĂ©na received his first independent command, the Army of Switzerland. The next spring, after French defeats on the Rhine, and in Italy, responsibility for the defence of France lay in his hands. Rather than wait to be encircled, he attacked
 and won a brilliant victory over Austrian and Russian forces at the Battle of ZĂŒrich. Rewarded with command of the Army of Italy, MassĂ©na led a heroic defence of Genoa in 1800. He was eventually starved into surrender, but his stubborn defence bought Napoleon enough time to cross the Alps, and defeat the Austrians at Marengo. Physically exhausted by this last ordeal, and surrounded by accusations of corruption, MassĂ©na was recalled to Paris and went into semi-retirement. When he was made a Marshal by Napoleon in 1804, he seemed distinctly underwhelmed, and on being congratulated, remarked, “There are fourteen of us!” But MassĂ©na was one of the few Marshals who’d proved themselves in independent command, making him a priceless asset to Napoleon. In 1805 he was recalled to active service, and given command of the Army of Italy in the war against the Third Coalition. MassĂ©na kept Archduke Charles’s army busy in Italy, while the Emperor won his great victories at Ulm and Austerlitz. In 1806, MassĂ©na oversaw the occupation of the Kingdom of Naples – ordering brutal reprisals against local resistance. In 1807 he commanded Fifth Corps in Poland, but his role covering Warsaw meant he missed the major battles of Eylau and Friedland. Later that year, while out hunting with the Emperor and his entourage at Fontainebleau, he was accidentally shot in the face, and lost the use of an eye. Napoleon, a notoriously bad shot, was to blame, but the loyal Marshal Berthier claimed responsibility. The war against Austria in 1809 saw MassĂ©na back near his best: his corps formed the vanguard for the crossing of the Danube, and fought ferociously to hold the village of Aspern against an overwhelming Austrian onslaught. MassĂ©na was everywhere, displaying his usual coolness under fire, and when ordered to retreat, ensured his troops pulled back across the river in good order. The battle was a defeat, but MassĂ©na had been superb. Together, he and the Emperor oversaw preparations for the next attempt to cross the Danube six weeks later. The Austrians were waiting for them, at the Battle of Wagram. Because of a riding accident a few days earlier, MassĂ©na had to command his corps from a carriage. He made a fine target for Austrian gunners, but was still able to organise a complex redeployment of his corps at the height of the battle, covered by Marshal BessiĂ©res cavalry charge. MassĂ©na’s bold manoeuvre secured the French left flank, and won further praise from Napoleon. MassĂ©na, already ennobled as the Duke of Rivoli, received a new title, Prince of Essling; and another, less welcome reward – command of French forces for the invasion of Portugal. MassĂ©na was deeply reluctant to go, and complained bitterly about his appointment. He was showing clear signs of exhaustion, and was plagued by rheumatism and bad lungs. When he arrived in Spain, General Foy observed, “He’s only 52 but he looks more than 60. He’s lost weight and has begun to stoop. His glance, since the accident in which he lost an eye, has lost its keenness.” His subordinates, already underwhelmed by his appearance, were outraged that the Marshal also decided to bring along his mistress, poorly disguised as an officer of dragoons. The French invasion of Portugal proved a disaster - undone by Wellington’s scorched earth tactics, a hostile population and terrain, and MassĂ©na’s own lethargic leadership. His corps commanders, especially Marshal Ney, were scathing of his conduct. At Buçaco, MassĂ©na squandered lives with an unnecessary frontal attack on a strong British position. When he reached Lisbon, he found the city protected by new fortifications – the impregnable Lines of Torres Vedras. MassĂ©na waited outside Lisbon for reinforcements that never came, while sickness and guerrilla raids took their toll on his army. Five months later, he re-crossed the mountains back into Spain, leaving a string of devastated villages behind him. The next summer, at Fuentes de Oñoro, MassĂ©na attacked Wellington’s army once more – and despite much hard fighting, again failed to win a clear victory. He blamed Marshal BessiĂšres for his lack of support. But the Emperor’s patience was at an end. He sent Marshal Marmont to replace MassĂ©na, and when they next met, greeted him with the cutting words, “So, Prince of Essling, you are no longer MassĂ©na?” MassĂ©na’s health was now in steep decline. He never held a major command again, though he was recalled in 1813 to supervise a military district in southern France. He died after a long illness in 1817. In his prime, MassĂ©na was a superb commander – incisive, and dangerous. But he was past his best by the time he became a Marshal. Nevertheless, there were enough sparks of his old brilliance to worry his adversaries. The Duke of Wellington once remarked, “When MassĂ©na was opposed to me in the field, I never slept comfortably.” 6. Marshal Suchet Louis-Gabriel Suchet was born in Lyon, the son of a prosperous silk-merchant. Plans to join the family business were derailed by the French Revolution, when Suchet, an ardent republican, joined the cavalry of the Lyon National Guard. In 1793 he was elected to lead a volunteer battalion, and at the Siege of Toulon, distinguished himself by helping to capture the British commander, General O’Hara. He also made friends with a young Major Bonaparte. Suchet went on to serve under Napoleon in his first, brilliant campaign in Italy, fighting at Lodi, Castiglione, and Bassano. Transferred to MassĂ©na’s division, he led his battalion with distinction at Arcole and Rivoli, was wounded twice and promoted Colonel. It was in Italy that Suchet learned the most valuable lesson of his career: for troops to be effective, they must be properly paid, clothed and fed – something the French Republic consistently failed to achieve. Despite proving himself to be an excellent organiser and dependable in battle, Suchet never quite made it into General Bonaparte’s inner circle. He went on to serve as a highly effective chief-of-staff to General Brune, then to MassĂ©na in Switzerland; and was with Joubert in Italy, who died in his arms at the Battle of Novi. Suchet was promoted to General of Division, and in 1800 he was given command of the Army of Italy’s left wing. With MassĂ©na besieged by the Austrians in Genoa, the defence of southern France fell on his shoulders. In a brilliant independent campaign, he held the Austrians near Nice, then chased them back into Italy, taking 15,000 prisoners. Despite this impressive record, Suchet was not on the list of Marshals created by Napoleon in 1804. Worse, in 1805 he was effectively demoted, being given command of a division in Marshal Lannes’ Fifth Corps. Nevertheless, it was a role he performed with great skill: his division distinguished itself at Ulm and Austerlitz, and the next year, led the attack in Napoleon’s crushing victory over the Prussians at Jena. The next year in Poland, his division saw hard fighting at Pultusk, but was then held back to defend Warsaw, and missed the great battles of Eylau and Friedland. Napoleon heaped rewards on General Suchet – money, titles, but still no Marshal’s baton
 In 1808, Suchet’s division was sent to Spain, where he’d spend the next six years. His first role was to support the Siege of Saragossa. Then on Marshal Lannes’ recommendation, Napoleon gave him command of Third Corps, and made him Governor of Aragon. Suchet found his troops to be poorly supplied, ill-disciplined and low in morale. Their first battle together, against General Blake’s Spanish army, ended in a humiliating rout at Alcañiz. Suchet found the drummer who’d started the panic, and had him shot in front of the entire corps. He then reorganised his troops, and restored discipline and pride with two quick victories over the Spanish. He also faced a guerrilla war in Aragon – a popular insurgency, driven by hatred of the French invader. Suchet drew on French experience of fighting counter-revolutionary insurgents in the VendĂ©e, and realised that it was only by winning over the civilian population that he’d be able to make progress. He made it his first priority to ensure his own men were properly paid and fed – something almost unheard of for French troops in Spain. He enforced discipline, and made sure requisitioned supplies were paid for. He told his troops: “I will look after your well-being
 and you, by your discipline, will give security to the inhabitants... you will make them, by your conduct, care for the government of King Joseph.” He told the Spanish people: “My troops will not impede you harvests nor overcrowd your cities. They will live in the countryside ready to protect you
 Religion and clergy will be respected.” Crucially, Suchet also promised protection from the many Spanish guerrilla bands who behaved no better than bandits. His practical and humane approach won respect, and brought results. The guerrillas could never be completely defeated, but Suchet made Aragon the safest and best-run region in occupied Spain. He extended French control of eastern Spain with a series of successful sieges: at Lerida, Mequinenza, and Tortosa. In June 1811, he took Tarragona. For this victory, Napoleon finally awarded him his Marshal’s baton – the only one earned in Spain. Then he moved south. He defeated a larger Spanish force at Saguntum
 then took the great city of Valencia, along with 18,000 prisoners and nearly 500 guns. Napoleon rewarded Suchet with the title Duke of Albufera. But the overall situation in Spain was deteriorating steadily. The partisans became better organised and supplied; the British navy was able to land troops on the coast to make diversionary attacks; while Napoleon withdrew more and more units for his own campaigns in Russia and Germany. After King Joseph and Jourdan were defeated at Vitoria, Suchet had no option but to pull back towards the French frontier, leaving behind several, well-supplied garrisons. On Napoleon’s abdication, Suchet remained undefeated, still holding the French frontier. When Napoleon returned from exile, Suchet went to meet him in Paris. It was the first time they’d met in person in eight years. “Marshal Suchet, you have grown greatly since we last saw one another!” the Emperor told him. He entrusted Suchet with command of French forces in the south – an important, independent command, for which few men were better suited. Suchet dutifully kept France’s enemies at bay
 until news arrived of Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo. Following the second Bourbon restoration, Suchet was dismissed and retired to his country estate, where he died in 1826. He was still held in such esteem in Aragon that a mass was held, to pray for his soul, in the cathedral of Saragossa. Suchet was a brilliant commander, widely-regarded as the best administrator in Napoleon’s army. He was also one of the few who thrived with the responsibility of independent command. He never had the opportunity to prove himself on the war’s decisive battlegrounds. But when Napoleon, in exile on Saint-Helena, was asked to name his best general, he replied, “That is difficult to say
 but it seems to me that it is Suchet.” 5. Marshal Ney Michel Ney was a cooper’s son from Lorraine, a German-speaking region of France on the eastern frontier. His father wanted him to become a clerk, but the young Ney, impetuous and headstrong, joined a hussar regiment instead. He soon distinguished himself as a fine horseman and fencer, and was a senior sergeant by the time of the French Revolution. When war broke out, Ney was made an officer, and became aide-de-camp to General Lamarche: his reports described Ney as active, brave and a skilled tactician. Ney served in the Netherlands and on the Rhine, fighting at Valmy, Jemappes and Neerwinden; he was seriously wounded once and captured once. Fellow officers nicknamed Ney ‘the Indefatigable’
 his men preferred ‘le Rougeaud’, the ruddy, or red-faced. The 30 year-old Ney was now a proven brigade commander, despite refusing promotion more than once, regarding himself as unqualified. In 1799, following glowing reports from General Bernadotte, he finally accepted the rank of General of Division. In 1800, Ney and his division played a major role in General Moreau’s great victory over the Austrians at Hohenlinden. This brought him to the attention of France’s new First Consul, Napoleon Bonaparte, with whom he’d still never served. When they met in Paris, they warmed to each other; Napoleon entrusted Ney the delicate task of imposing his ‘Act of Mediation’ on Switzerland, which he carried out with swift efficiency. The same year Ney married AglaĂ©-Louise AuguiĂ©, a friend of Josephine’s daughter Hortense, now Napoleon’s stepdaughter, drawing him closer to France’s future imperial family. In 1804, Napoleon proclaimed a new empire, and Ney was made a Marshal. The next year, he was leading Sixth Corps to war against Austria. He was accompanied by Colonel Henri Jomini, a Swiss officer and military theorist. Ney had been quick to recognise his talent, giving him a job as his aide-de-camp and helping to publish his work. Jomini would win fame as one of the 19th century’s great military thinkers, and served Ney well as his chief-of-staff on several campaigns. During the advance against the Austrians, Jomini encouraged Ney to ignore orders from Marshal Murat that would’ve allowed the enemy to escape. Their decision was vindicated when Sixth Corps won a brilliant action at Elchingen, that closed the trap on General Mack’s forces at Ulm. Ney’s corps missed the Battle of Austerlitz, but was in action against the Prussians the following year. There had already been signs that Ney’s aggressive instinct, which made him a brilliant tactical leader, could also get him into trouble. At the Battle of Jena, Ney ignored his orders, and charged straight at the Prussian lines, becoming cut off. His troops had to be rescued by Marshal Lannes’ corps. A furious Napoleon remarked “Ney knows less about soldiering than the last-joined drummer boy.” Ney was criticised again by Napoleon three months later, when his foraging raids into East Prussia appeared to provoke a Russian offensive. The winter manoeuvring culminated in the horrific Battle of Eylau, which Ney’s corps reached only as darkness fell. That summer, Bennigsen’s Russian army launched a surprise attack, hoping to encircle and destroy Ney’s Sixth Corps near Guttstadt. Ney, outnumbered four to one, conducted a brilliant fighting withdrawal and escaped the trap. A week later, Napoleon caught Bennigsen’s army at Friedland. Ney led a crucial attack on the enemy. “That man is a lion,” said Napoleon, watching his advance. Sixth Corps’ onslaught shattered the Russian left, leading to one of Napoleon’s most decisive victories. For all his flaws, Ney had proved himself one of Napoleon’s best tactical commanders, and was rewarded with the title Duke of Elchingen. In 1808, Ney commanded a corps during the invasion of Spain. He spent more than two years in the Iberian Peninsula, and like most of Napoleon’s Marshals, found it a bitter and frustrating experience. In 1810, he joined Marshal MassĂ©na for the invasion of Portugal, but deeply resented being placed under his command. He criticised every decision, helping to create a poisonous atmosphere at French headquarters. The French advance on Lisbon came to a halt at the Lines of Torres Vedras. During the subsequent retreat, Ney again demonstrated his brilliant tactical skills, fighting a series of rearguard actions that kept Wellington’s troops at bay. But Ney’s fury at what he considered MassĂ©na’s disastrous leadership boiled over into open insubordination: he was relieved of command, and returned to France. But he did not remain in disgrace for long. Napoleon knew Ney’s worth in battle, and that the army adored him... He’d be needed in Russia, and was recalled in 1812, with command of Third Corps. As the Grande ArmĂ©e advanced deeper into Russia, Ney was always near the action – leading attacks at Krasny, and at Smolensk, where he was wounded in the neck. Amid the slaughter of Borodino, Ney led his corps in attack after attack on the Russian earthworks. When they were finally taken, and he was told that Napoleon would not send in his reserves to follow up their hard-won gains, he exploded with anger: “What business has the Emperor in the rear of the army? Since he will no longer make war himself
 let him return to the Tuileries, and leave us to be generals for him!” It was typical of Ney’s lack of restraint. But his blind faith in the Emperor did not survive Russia
 henceforth, he’d fight only for France. It was during the retreat from Moscow that Ney ensured his place among the legends of military history. Just 2 weeks into the retreat, the Russians routed Davout’s rearguard at Vyazma, and Ney and Third Corps took over. Ney was not only an instinctive tactician, and apparently immune to fear or fatigue
 he could inspire or bully other men into superhuman feats of bravery and endurance. A French officer later recalled: “I can see him still, at the spot where the fighting was hottest, speaking to the men, indicating to the generals what positions they should take up, animating all hearts with the confidence that flashed from his glances. He made an effect on me I don’t know how to describe.” At Krasny, when the rearguard got cut-off from the rest of the army, Ney angrily rejected calls to surrender, and led his men in an astonishing forced march across enemy territory, crossing the frozen Dnieper River at night, personally pulling men from the river when they fell through the ice. Surrounded by Cossacks and down to 800 fighting men, they formed square and kept moving. Ney was more than a hero to the army. He was its talisman. News of his escape caused rejoicing throughout the army. Napoleon himself remarked, “What a soldier! The army is full of brave men, but Michel Ney is truly the bravest of the brave.” Ney led the rearguard for the rest of the retreat, and according to legend, was the last man to cross the Niemen River into Poland. His leadership helped many thousands of soldiers to make it back alive. Ney was rewarded with the title Prince of the Moskva, and continued to serve throughout 1813, though his relations with the Emperor, and Marshal Berthier in particular, were increasingly strained. At LĂŒtzen, Ney was moved by the conduct of his young conscripts, who bore the brunt of Blucher’s surprise attack, but fought back bravely, helping to win victory. Napoleon then entrusted Ney with command of three army corps – 84,000 men. But the plan for him to fall on the enemy’s flank at Bautzen went awry. Badly-drafted orders led to delay, and the Coalition army was able to escape. Ney fought in the Emperor’s great victory at Dresden
 but ten days later at Dennewitz, his limitations as an army commander were horribly exposed. Throwing himself into an attack, he lost control of the battle, and was badly beaten by Bernadotte’s Army of the North. Ney was devasted by his defeat, but Napoleon kept him in command of his northern wing. At the gigantic, four-day Battle of Leipzig, he commanded the northern sector, holding the line until a shoulder wound on the last day forced his return to France. He rejoined the army in 1814 and fought in the defence of France, commanding the Young Guard, and personally leading a bayonet charge at the Battle of Montmirail. In April, Ney - outspoken as ever - was among the first to confront Napoleon with the reality of his position, and force his abdication. Ney was feted by the restored Bourbon monarchy as France’s greatest soldier. But he could not hide his contempt for the returning aristocrats, who treated his family with disdain. When the king’s niece reduced his wife to tears, Ney confronted her, shouting “I and others were fighting for France, while you sat sipping tea in English gardens.” In February 1815, Napoleon escaped from exile on Elba and landed in France. Ney was horrified by the prospect of civil war, and promised the king that he’d bring Napoleon back to Paris in an iron cage. But he soon saw that the army was flocking to Napoleon’s banner. When Napoleon appealed to him directly as the hero of Borodino, Ney made the fateful decision to cast in his lot with the Emperor once more. When Napoleon advanced into the Netherlands in June, to take on Wellington and BlĂŒcher’s armies, Ney commanded his left wing. But he made a string of blunders. Against Wellington’s troops at Quatre Bras, he was too cautious when he held the advantage. Two days later, at Waterloo, Napoleon left much of the tactical handling of the battle to Marshal Ney. It was a mistake. On his own initiative, Ney launched a series of mass cavalry attacks too early
 and failed to launch any co-ordinated attacks on Wellington’s position until late in the day. He had four horses killed under him, an d personally led the last, doomed attack by the Imperial Guard. Ney’s courage that day was awe-inspiring, but his decisions helped to cause the French defeat. In the aftermath, Ney spurned several chances to flee France, and was arrested for treason by the restored monarchy. A military court refused to pass sentence, so his case went to the Chamber of Peers. With the king’s allies demanding that an example be made of Ney, the outcome of his trial was never in doubt. Five of Ney’s fellow Marshals were among a large majority who voted for the death penalty. On 7th December 1815, he was marched into the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris. “Soldiers, when I give the order to fire, fire at the heart”, he told the firing squad. “Wait for the order. It will be my last to you. I protest against my condemnation. I have fought a hundred battles for France, and not one against her.” Marshal Ney was among the most inspirational battlefield commanders in history: a born soldier and brilliant tactician
 unless his fiery temperament got the better of him. He lacked the confidence for high command, but under the Emperor’s supervision, he proved one of the Grande ArmĂ©e’s greatest combat leaders. 4. Marshal Soult Jean-de-Dieu Soult was from a small town in southern France, and enlisted in the RĂ©giment Royal aged 16. He became a tough, capable sergeant, and in the build-up to the Revolutionary Wars, joined a new battalion of volunteers as their drill instructor. Soult’s self-confidence and bearing meant he was soon made an officer. The unit went into action against the Prussians in 1793: in a brutal baptism of fire, half the battalion became casualties, though Soult’s own conduct was praised. After a spell on the staff of General Hoche, he joined General Lefebvre’s crack vanguard division. Soult learned much from Lefebvre (a future fellow-Marshal), serving first as his chief of staff, and later as his best brigade commander. Soult’s rise from sergeant to brigadier-general took less than three years. In the process he won a reputation as an organised and decisive commander, and brilliant tactician. He also began a bitter, long-lasting feud with another rising star, General Michel Ney. In 1799 Soult established himself as one of France’s best divisional commanders, fighting under MassĂ©na’s command at the Battle of Zurich. He was then put in charge of three divisions to pursue General Suvarov through the Alps, proving his ability for high command. In his report to France’s new First Consul, Napoleon Bonaparte, MassĂ©na wrote, "for judgment and courage, Soult has scarcely a superior." The next year, Soult and MassĂ©na were besieged in Genoa. Soult led a series of daring raids on the Austrian lines, until he was shot in the knee and captured. He was robbed, and spent days in agony in a filthy hospital – an episode that may explain Soult’s later reluctance to lead from the front. On his return to Paris, Soult received a hero’s welcome from Napoleon. His rewards included an honorary rank as Colonel-General in the Consular Guard, plus command of troops assembled at Saint Omer for Napoleon’s planned invasion of England. Soult, the old drill instructor, imposed strict discipline and trained his men hard, earning the nickname ‘bras de fer’, iron-arm. Even Napoleon wondered if he was being too severe, to which Soult replied, “Those that can’t handle what I myself endure will be left behind in the depots. Those that can will be fit to conquer the world.” In 1804 Napoleon proclaimed his new Empire, and Soult received his Marshal’s baton. The next year his impeccably-drilled troops became Fourth Corps - the largest corps of the Grande ArmĂ©e – and marched east to take on the Third Coalition. That December, at Austerlitz, Napoleon entrusted Soult’s corps with the main attack on the enemy centre. As he issued his final orders to his Marshals, the Emperor turned to Soult last and said, “As for you, Soult, I say only - act as you always do.” Fourth Corps’ attack was the decisive blow of the battle, though its success owed much to Soult’s exceptional divisional commanders, Saint-Hilaire and Vandamme. With victory won, Napoleon acclaimed Soult ‘the foremost manoeuvrer in Europe’. However, it was observed that Soult was now less inclined to expose himself to enemy fire, taking a more managerial approach to command – though his planning, organisation and tactical instinct remained superb. The next year, Soult’s corps played an important role at the Battle of Jena, and in the pursuit of the defeated Prussian army that followed. In the brutal winter battle at Eylau, his troops held the centre of the line. Soult’s relationship with Napoleon was excellent, and the Emperor frequently turned to him for advice - much to Marshal Berthier’s annoyance. In 1808, Soult was ennobled as the Duke of Dalmatia, and later that year, led a corps in Napoleon’s invasion of Spain. When the Emperor returned to France, he entrusted the pursuit of the British army to Marshal Soult. The British nicknamed Soult ‘The Duke of Damnation’, and he harried them through the mountains of Galicia to La Coruña. But in battle, he could not break their lines, nor prevent their escape by sea. Soult then marched south and occupied Porto, where rumours began that he was considering crowning himself king of Portugal. Whether the rumours were serious or not, in May the British and Portuguese took Soult by surprise, and drove him out of Portugal with heavy loss in men and supplies. This was the most ignominious chapter of Soult’s mixed record in the Peninsula: five years that saw sparks of brilliance, but also missed chances, shocking avarice and a reluctance to co-operate with other commanders. Later in 1809, Soult replaced Marshal Jourdan as King Joseph’s chief military advisor, and led French forces to a crushing victory over the Spanish at Ocaña. He then oversaw the French occupation of southern Spain. Appointed governor of Andalucia, Soult administered the region with cold efficiency from his headquarters at Seville, though avoiding harsh measures where possible. He lived in royal style, and notoriously, looted Spanish churches on such a scale that he soon amassed one of the great art collections in Europe, worth an estimated 1.5 million francs. He was increasingly aloof, and even his aides found him difficult to like. “Soult’s character is hard, and above all egotistical”, one wrote, “He takes no more than a passing interest in those around him.” In 1811, with Marshal MassĂ©na’s army stalled outside Lisbon, Napoleon ordered Soult to give support. Like many of Napoleon’s long-range interventions in Spain, the objectives were unrealistic, yet Soult marched north with 20,000 men, capturing Badajoz
 but withdrew on receiving news of an enemy landing near Barrosa. Two months later, he marched north again to relieve Badajoz, now besieged by the enemy, and met Beresford’s larger army en route at Albuera. Soult launched a flanking attack that threw the enemy into confusion. But he failed to follow up his advantage, and left the tactical handling of the battle to others. Nor was he on the spot to inspire his troops
 and his army suffered a bloody defeat. The next year, Wellington’s victory at Salamanca forced Soult to abandon his palace in Seville, and retreat to Valencia... Though that autumn, he had the satisfaction of re-occupying Madrid, and pursuing Wellington’s army back to the Portuguese frontier. In 1813, Napoleon summoned Soult to Germany, where he fought at LĂŒtzen, and supervised the main attack at Bautzen. But when news arrived of the calamitous French defeat at Vitoria, Napoleon sent Soult back to Spain to take charge. Soult inherited a demoralised, disorganised army. He quickly imposed order, turned it around, and attacked. It was an impressive feat, but his mostly young conscripts were up against experienced, well-led troops – two attempts to relieve the besieged garrison of San Sebastian failed. Soult began a fighting retreat through the Pyrenees mountains back to France. Despite the limitations of his demoralised conscripts, he ensured Wellington’s army had to fight every step of the way, counter-attacking whenever possible, and offering resistance till the end, even as Napoleon’s empire began to collapse. The last battle of the campaign was fought at Toulouse – a bloody and unnecessary one, as Napoleon had abdicated four days earlier. Under the Bourbon restoration, Soult became an unpopular Minister of War. Like Marshal Ney, he initially opposed Napoleon’s return from exile, but saw which way the wind was blowing, and rallied to the Emperor. Napoleon made several dubious appointments in 1815: one was to pick Soult as his new chief of staff, replacing Marshal Berthier. Not only did this waste Soult’s command abilities, since his new role was merely to implement Napoleon’s orders; Soult also inherited a complex staff system of Berthier’s own devising. Crucial errors resulted during the Waterloo campaign, with orders going astray, and commanders unsure of their role. Soult’s warning not to underestimate Wellington’s army was dismissed by Napoleon: "You think that because Wellington defeated you he must be a great general. I tell you that he is a bad general, that the English are bad troops, and this will be over by lunchtime.” Following Napoleon’s defeat, Soult lived in exile until 1819, then returned to France under a political amnesty. After the July Revolution, he served as a reforming Minister of War, and three times as President of the Council of Ministers, effectively France’s prime minister. He also became the ‘grand old man’ of the French army, elevated to commander-in-chief, with the exalted rank of ‘Marshal General of France’. Soult died aged 82, in the same town where he was born – known today as Saint-Amans-Soult. Soult’s record as a Marshal was mixed – a brilliant and intelligent organiser, whose ability to deliver a master-stroke, or inspire his troops to victory, waned with time. Yet he was one of the few Marshals that Napoleon could trust with a large, independent command – a quality he needed desperately, but found in short supply. So far we’ve met Marshals PĂ©rignon
 Brune. SĂ©rurier. Kellermann. Grouchy. Moncey. Poniatowksi. Jourdan. Bernadotte. Augereau. Lefebvre. Mortier. Marmont. Saint-Cyr. Oudinot. Victor. Murat. BessiĂšres. Macdonald. MassĂ©na. Suchet. Ney. And Soult. 3. Marshal Berthier Louis-Alexandre Berthier was born at Versailles, 10 miles from Paris. His mother served at the palace as a chambermaid to the future Louis the Eighteenth; his father was a colonel in the Topographical Engineers – a specialist corps of military surveyors. Berthier followed in his father’s footsteps, joining the Topographical Engineers aged just 13, and was commissioned lieutenant at 17. He proved a talented and diligent staff officer. Ten years later he accompanied General Rochambeau to America, as part of French support to the colonists in their War of Independence... and witnessed the British defeat at Yorktown. By the time the French Revolutionary Wars broke out, Berthier was a brigadier general with 25 years’ service, who’d studied and given much thought to the problems of military organisation and command. A reputation for outstanding staff work meant his services were in high demand, and he served as Chief of Staff to Rochambeau, Lafayette, and Luckner. But during ‘The Terror’, ties to these politically-suspect generals put Berthier himself under the spotlight. He was stripped of his rank, and not officially reinstated until 1795, when he became Chief of Staff of the Army of Italy. A Chief of Staff led the staff section, which was responsible for turning the general’s orders into action, by drafting written instructions which were sent out by courier; as well as every aspect of army administration; ensuring efficient movement and supply; and collating reports on the enemy, terrain, roads and anything else that might affect operations. Berthier, building on recent trends in French staff practice, now developed his own comprehensive, staff organisation: He established 3 sections: His personal office or cabinet, mostly skilled civilian clerks who handled troop movements, transcribed orders, filed reports, and collated intelligence on enemy forces
 His private military staff, made up of aides-de-camp, liaison officers and couriers. And the general staff itself, headed by the First Assistant Major GĂ©nĂ©ral, also divided into three sections: The first dealt with additional troop movements, plus auxiliary services such as hospitals, military policing, prisoners-of-war and security of supply lines. The second section organised the army’s camps and billets. The third section was the topographical section, responsible for maps and reconnaissance. The general structure of Berthier’s system changed little over the next 18 years, and proved uniquely effective at handling the challenges posed by a new era of European warfare. Its chief beneficiary would be the Army of Italy’s new commander, Napoleon Bonaparte. Napoleon also discovered that his chief of staff possessed immense personal qualities – a heroic capacity for work, meticulous memory and attention to detail, and devotion to duty and discipline. Crucially, he had a gift for turning Napoleon’s verbal, sometimes vague commandments into clear, concise, written orders that made sense to his officers, and later Marshals. Napoleon and Berthier established a highly effective working relationship that would last until 1814. It relied on Berthier’s complete acceptance of his subordinate role: he played no part in devising strategy, and never challenged or contradicted Napoleon except on points of logistical detail. When a friend queried his devotion to Napoleon, who was an extremely demanding and short-tempered boss, Berthier replied, "Remember that one day it will be a fine thing to be second to Bonaparte." Berthier’s hard work and brilliant staff system underpinned all Napoleon’s successes in Italy, and beyond. They spent so much time together, Berthier was nicknamed ‘Napoleon’s wife.’ He was personally brave too, leading an attack at Lodi, and a cavalry charge at Rivoli. But his genius was for staff work and administration, not army command, as he well knew. When he briefly inherited command of the Army of Italy in 1797, he begged Napoleon to return as soon as possible to take over. Berthier played a crucial role in planning Napoleon’s Egyptian expedition of 1798, and masterminded his famous crossing of the Alps in 1800, which saw French troops advance almost 100 miles through the mountains in just 8 days. The same year, Napoleon made Berthier Minister of War, putting him in charge of all French military administration. When Napoleon proclaimed his new empire in 1804, Berthier was the first name on the list of new Marshals, with seniority over all others. The next year his role as chief of staff, or ‘major gĂ©nĂ©ral’, of the Grande ArmĂ©e was officially confirmed. In the fast-moving campaign of 1805, Berthier’s system ensured Napoleon always had up to date information about the location and strength of his own forces... as well as the latest reports on enemy movements from scouts, spies, and prisoners. Such advantages helped him achieve the stunning encirclement of Mack’s Austrian army at Ulm. On campaign, Berthier and the Emperor often travelled together in the imperial coach, working without pause. His workload was immense, but so too were the rewards. Following the victory at Austerlitz, Napoleon made Berthier the hereditary, sovereign prince of NeuchĂątel & Valangin, with an enormous private income. Over the course of Napoleon’s reign, he received endowments worth more than a million francs per year from the Emperor – more than any other Marshal. Yet Berthier remained a liability as a field commander. In 1809, Napoleon put him in temporary command of the Army of Germany. When Archduke Charles made a bold advance into Bavaria, Berthier’s response was hesitant and muddled, and nearly led to Marshal Davout’s corps being encircled. Only Napoleon’s arrival averted disaster. Returning to his usual role as chief of staff, Berthier once more proved his exceptional talents, co-ordinating the movement of 200,000 men, and paving the way for the Emperor’s victory at Wagram. The title Prince of Wagram was added to his honours. The invasion of Russia in 1812 was a test like no other for Marshal Berthier and his staff. It required co-ordinating the movement of half a million troops – the biggest army ever seen in Europe - across a 400-mile front. “A simple private is happier than I,” Berthier complained, “I am being killed by all this work.” By August, it was clear the Grande ArmĂ©e’s supply lines were at breaking point, and Berthier was among those who tried to persuade Napoleon to halt the advance at Smolensk. He was ignored. As disaster engulfed the army, Berthier continued to perform his duty. By the end of the retreat, he was marching on foot, with frostbitten fingers. When Napoleon left the army to return to Paris without him, he wept openly. Despite his own poor health in the wake of the retreat, Berthier worked hard to salvage the remnants of the army, and served throughout the campaign in Germany in 1813. By now, Napoleon’s enemies had reformed their own army general staffs, partly inspired by Berthier’s example. But neither Berthier nor his system was perfect: In May, a confusing order to Marshal Ney contributed to his late arrival at the Battle of Bautzen, and a missed chance to crush the Coalition army. Berthier was also notorious for his jealousies and grudges: his pedantic vendetta against Jomini, Ney’s talented chief of staff, drove him to defect to the Russians. Berthier must also bear some blame for the disastrous end to the Battle of Leipzig – he knew there weren’t enough bridges for the army to retreat safely, but failed to press the matter with Napoleon. When the only bridge out of the city was blown too early, 30,000 men became prisoners. Berthier continued to serve Napoleon faithfully, through the desperate defence of France, until the Emperor’s abdication in April 1814. The restored Bourbon monarchy showered titles and honours on Berthier – the king even gave him an honorary rank in his own guard. Napoleon’s return from exile 11 months later put him in an impossible situation – torn both ways by his sense of duty and loyalty. He accompanied the king on his flight to the Netherlands, but was treated with such suspicion by the royal court, that he left for his wife’s family estate in Bavaria. There, a few weeks later, Berthier fell from a window and was killed. It was most likely a simple accident, though some believe he killed himself out of guilt or despair, or less plausibly, was murdered by French royalist agents. Napoleon had expected Berthier to rejoin him in 1815, and was scathing of his absence, “I have been betrayed by Berthier, who was just a gosling transformed by me into some kind of eagle.” But after his defeat at Waterloo, in which mismanaged staff work played an important role, Napoleon conceded, "If Berthier had been there, I would not have met this misfortune." Berthier had none of Murat’s glamour, nor Ney’s heroism, nor the tactical instincts of Davout. But he was ‘the indispensable Marshal’, whose brilliant administration and tireless work were the foundation for so much of Napoleon’s military success. 2. Marshal Lannes Jean Lannes was a farmer’s son from Gascony, who quit his job as a dyer’s apprentice to join the local volunteer battalion in 1792. Energetic and charismatic, he was immediately elected to be an officer by his comrades. The unit was sent to fight the Spanish on the Eastern Pyrenees front, where Lannes proved a brave and active officer. He distinguished himself in several actions, and was promoted to command the regiment. Lannes was then transferred to Italy as part of General Augereau’s division, where his bold, aggressive leadership won praise from General MassĂ©na, then, at Dego, from General Bonaparte himself, who rewarded Lannes with command of a grenadier brigade in the army’s advance guard. A month later at the Battle of Lodi, Colonel Lannes was first across the river, leaping off the bridge and wading ashore under enemy fire. At the Battle of Arcole, he was wounded twice, but when he heard the French were retreating, he left the dressing station to lead a fresh attack, which probably saved Napoleon from capture or worse. Napoleon later presented the flag he’d waved at the battle to Lannes, and a special bond was formed between them, based on mutual respect and loyalty Lannes was promoted to brigadier general, and in 1798 joined Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt. He played a prominent role in the campaign, helping to suppress the revolt in Cairo
 and leading the assaults on Jaffa, and Acre
 where he was shot in the neck, and only saved from certain death by his men, who carried him back to safety. At the Battle of Aboukir, Lannes’ infantry worked with Murat’s cavalry to inflict a crushing defeat on the Ottoman army. While recovering from his latest wounds in this battle, Lannes received painful news from home: his wife had given birth to another man’s child. He returned to France with Napoleon in October, and divorced his wife not long after. When Napoleon staged his coup of 18 Brumaire, Lannes helped to ensure the army’s loyalty. The next spring, Napoleon’s army marched over the Alps into Italy. Lannes’ vanguard led the way, and at Montebello, encountered an Austrian force that outnumbered it two to one. Lannes was able to win a brilliant victory, thanks to crucial support from General Victor. Just five days later, his division played a key role in Napoleon’s great victory at Marengo. Lannes never forgot a favour – he and Victor remained firm friends. But he also never forgot a grudge, was notoriously short-fused and quick to perceive an insult. In 1800 Lannes remarried to Louise-Antoinette GuĂ©heneuc, daughter of a Senator, with whom he’d have 5 children. He was also appointed commander of Napoleon’s Consular Guard. But he was dismissed after General BessiĂšres helped expose his mismanagement of the budget
 for which Lannes never forgave him. In semi-disgrace, Lannes was sent as ambassador to Portugal: a short, eventful spell in which, against expectation, his soldierly manner won over Portugal’s Prince Regent. By 1804 it was clear that all was forgiven - Lannes received news that he’d been made a Marshal of the new French empire, and orders to return to Paris for Napoleon’s coronation. The following year he took command of Fifth Corps of the Grande ArmĂ©e, forming the vanguard for the advance against the Austrian army in Bavaria. Lannes had to work closely with Marshal Murat, a bitter rival since a falling out in Egypt, but they put their differences aside. Together, they bluffed an Austrian commander into surrendering a vital Danube bridge, by persuading him that an armistice had been signed. At one point Lannes even snatched the fuse from a soldier’s hand, as he prepared to light the explosive charges. The day before the Battle of Austerlitz, Lannes’ quick temper got the better of him: he demanded to fight a duel with Marshal Soult, who – in his eyes – had made him look foolish in front of the Emperor. Soult ignored the challenge. In the battle that followed, Lannes’ Fifth Corps held the left flank against Bagration’s attacks
 later pushing forward with the cavalry to help take 7,000 Russian prisoners. After the battle, Lannes was infuriated that Soult, and not he, was singled out for praise by the Emperor. Within days, Lannes had resigned his command and returned to France. In 1806, with tempers cooled, Napoleon summoned Lannes to rejoin the army for the war with Prussia. Back in command of Fifth Corps, Lannes was as active, aggressive and brilliant as ever. At Saalfeld, he fought the first major combat of the war, routing a Prussian division commanded by Prince Louis Ferdinand. Four days later at Jena, Lannes opened the main French attack at dawn, with General Suchet’s division in the lead. For six hours, his troops were engaged in furious fighting for the villages on the plateau
 until finally, the Prussian resistance was broken. By December, the war had moved into Poland. Lannes attacked a larger Russian force at PuƂtusk, but it was a bloody, indecisive affair. Wounds and fever then forced him to convalesce in Warsaw, and so miss the Battle of Eylau. That spring, Lannes resumed command of the advance guard, as Napoleon sought out Bennigsen’s Russian army, hoping to force a decisive battle. When Bennigsen located Lannes’ apparently-isolated corps near Friedland, he attacked. He expected an easy victory. But Lannes, with support from future Marshals Oudinot and Grouchy, expertly used his troops to fend off the Russians, while Napoleon raced to join him with the main army. Lannes’ delaying tactics allowed Napoleon to catch the Russian army with its back to the river, and inflict a crushing defeat. The following year Lannes was ennobled as Duke of Montebello, and joined Napoleon for the invasion of Spain, despite suffering a serious riding injury en route. Taking command of Marshal Moncey’s Third Corps, Lannes routed a Spanish army at the Battle of Tudela, sending the enemy fleeing in two directions. He was then given command of the Siege of Zaragoza. Spanish soldiers and civilians defended the city with legendary courage, but Lannes’ leadership and methodical, house-by-house approach ensured ultimate victory
 at a high price. Even Lannes was left shaken by the savagery of the fighting, writing to Napoleon, “Sire, this is a horrifying war.” Napoleon recalled Lannes for the war with Austria in 1809. His Provisional Corps formed the vanguard for Napoleon’s “Four-Day Campaign” – a series of quick victories over the Austrians, that culminated in the Battle of EggmĂŒhl. Napoleon next needed Regensburg taken quickly, and so as usual, he turned to Lannes. After the first assault wave was mown down, Lannes’ call for volunteers went unanswered. Furious, he picked up a scaling ladder and shouted, “I’ll show you that before I was a Marshal I was a grenadier, and still am!” As he rushed forward, his aides grabbed the ladder from him, reorganised the men, and led a successful attack. After occupying Vienna, Napoleon ordered his army to cross the Danube, in pursuit of the Austrians. Marshals Lannes and MassĂ©na led the way across improvised bridges, supported by Marshal BessiĂšres cavalry. It was soon clear that Napoleon had miscalculated, and that they faced not just an Austrian rearguard, but the full might of Archduke Charles’s army. MassĂ©na held the village of Aspern, while Lannes organised the defence of Essling. But desperately-needed reinforcements and ammunition were held up, as the Austrians floated obstacles downriver to smash the fragile bridges. Lannes’ old rival Marshal BessiĂšres was placed under his temporary command. Lannes sent repeated orders for him to charge the enemy, in language that verged on an accusation of cowardice, and that evening the two Marshals nearly came to blows. The next day, Lannes’ corps led an attack on the Austrian centre, but was driven back by the weight of enemy fire. The French-held villages were under constant, pulverising bombardment. Around 4pm Lannes’ old friend General Pouzet was hit by a cannonball and killed in front of him. Lannes, badly shaken, walked off to sit alone for a moment, when a cannon ball skipped along the ground and smashed both his legs. Lannes was carried to the rear, and placed in the care of the Grande ArmĂ©e’s most famous surgeon, Baron Larrey. Larrey quickly decided that he must amputate one leg. The operation went well. But the wound became infected, and Lannes died nine days later. Napoleon, who’d visited Lannes every day, wept at news of his death. “What a loss for France, and for me”. Then he wrote to Lannes’ wife: “The Marshal has died this morning of the wounds he received on the field of honour. My pain equals yours. I lost the most distinguished general in my army, and a companion-in-arms for sixteen years whom I considered my best friend.” Marshal Lannes’ death was a great blow to Napoleon and the army. He had proved himself an outstanding commander
 as brave as Ney, with the military mind of Soult
 the Marshal who led Napoleon’s vanguard in four of his greatest campaigns. His remarkable, soldiering skills would be sorely missed by the Emperor in the challenging years that lay ahead. 1. Marshal Davout Louis-Nicolas Davout was born into a noble family from Burgundy, with a tradition of military service that went back to the Crusades. At 15 he was sent to the Military School in Paris, just missing a young Napoleon Bonaparte, who’d graduated a few weeks before. In 1788 Davout was commissioned into the Royal Champagne Cavalry Regiment, but within a year, his vocal support for the French Revolution had got him into deep trouble: he was forced to resign his commission and spent 6 weeks in prison. In 1791 Davout joined a local volunteer battalion, and was elected its deputy commander. The next year France was at war with Austria and Prussia, and Davout soon proved himself a brave, highly-organised and energetic officer. He also won praise for attempting to prevent his commanding officer, General Dumouriez, defecting to the Austrians – though he was not successful. The incident did speed Davout’s promotion to brigadier-general... But the Revolution was now entering its most extreme phase: a new law barred ex-aristocrats from the army, and Davout had to resign his commission once more. A year passed before he was reinstated, with command of a cavalry brigade in the Army of the Moselle. He led a series of daring operations against the Austrians, winning particular praise from General Desaix, who became a close friend. In 1798, Desaix introduced Davout to his friend General Bonaparte. Napoleon was not at first impressed –Davout was aloof, untidy and awkward. Napoleon even described him as a “damn brute”. But he did trust Desaix’s judgement, and gave Davout a command in his army, bound for Egypt. It was a tough campaign for Davout, who caught dysentery in Cairo. But he further demonstrated his military skill, winning a series of skirmishes on Desaix’s expedition into Upper Egypt
 and later leading a successful assault on the town of Aboukir. Soon after their return to France, General Desaix was killed at the Battle of Marengo, robbing Davout of a close friend and patron. However, Napoleon had been won over by Davout’s performance in Egypt; he now promoted him General of Division, and appointed him Inspector General of Cavalry. Napoleon also encouraged Davout to marry AimĂ©e Leclerc, Pauline Bonaparte’s sister-in-law, bringing Davout within the First Consul’s extended family. It proved a loving marriage, and great source of strength to Davout in the years ahead. In 1803 Davout was given command of the Camp of Bruges, where troops were preparing for the invasion of England. Here he established his reputation as an exceptional administrator and hard taskmaster, enforcing discipline and regular training, while paying attention to his soldiers’ welfare, and sacking officers who didn’t meet his high standards. In 1804 Napoleon proclaimed a new French empire, and Davout, aged 34, became the youngest of its new Marshals. His inclusion was a surprise to many, especially as he’d still not commanded anything larger than a brigade in battle. It’s very likely that the deaths of Davout’s patron, Desaix, and brother-in-law, Leclerc, cleared a path for him. The next year, Davout’s troops became Third Corps of the Grande ArmĂ©e – and marched east to take on the Third Coalition. On the eve of the Battle of Austerlitz, Davout force-marched his corps 70 miles in 2 days, arriving at dawn on Napoleon’s right flank. His troops went straight into action, holding off a powerful Coalition attack
 buying time for Napoleon’s decisive move against the enemy centre. It was a remarkable performance by Third Corps
. soon eclipsed by an even greater feat of arms the next year, in the war against Prussia. As Napoleon concentrated his forces at Jena, to attack what he believed was the main Prussian army.. he ordered Davout’s Third Corps and Bernadotte’s First Corps to cut off their retreat. But 10 miles north of Napoleon, near Auerstedt, Davout ran straight into the main Prussian army. With no sign of support from Marshal Bernadotte’s First Corps, Davout’s 26,000 men faced odds of more than two-to-one. Davout’s masterful handling of his troops enabled Third Corps to repel the Prussian onslaught. Then, his line stabilised, Davout went on the offensive... and routed the enemy army. It was a stunning victory, won at a high price – one in four of Davout’s men were either killed or wounded. When Napoleon heard the first report, he was incredulous. “Your Marshal must have been seeing double!”, he told his aide-de-camp, making a joke of Davout’s spectacle-wearing. When the report was confirmed, he sent a message back to Davout: “Tell the Marshal that he, his generals and his troops have gained everlasting claims on my gratitude.” He later gave Third Corps the honour of being the first troops to enter Berlin. The next year at Eylau, Davout’s corps again played a pivotal role, trying to turn the Russian flank. When his men were driven back, Davout rallied them, shouting, “The cowards will die in Siberia, the brave will die on the field of honour!” This time Third Corps could not break through, but its tenacity helped persuade the Russians to retreat that night. Following the peace treaty of Tilsit, Davout became governor-general of the new Duchy of Warsaw, where he oversaw the recruitment and training of Polish troops. In 1808 he was ennobled as Duke of Auerstedt. But for all his military prowess, Davout was not a popular figure. Notoriously tough, his troops respected rather than loved him, while several Marshals were irritated by his air of superiority and blunt manner. In 1809, with war looming with Austria, Davout rejoined Third Corps at Regensburg. When Archduke Charles advanced into Bavaria, the army’s temporary commander - Marshal Berthier – nearly left Davout to be cut off. As soon as Napoleon arrived, he ordered Davout to withdraw. It was almost too late. But with immense skill, Davout and Third Corps were able to fight their way clear, and rejoin the army. Davout played a major part in the counter-offensive that followed, known as the ‘Four-Day Campaign’, pinning Austrian forces at EggmĂŒhl
 until Napoleon arrived to deliver the decisive blow. A month later at the Battle of Aspern, Davout and Third Corps never made it across the river. The Marshal’s role was limited to trying to sort out the crisis at the bridges – until the French were forced to withdraw. When the army crossed the Danube again six weeks later, Davout was in his usual post on the right wing. On the first day of the Battle of Wagram, the Emperor criticised Davout for his slow attack. But the ‘Iron Marshal’, as he was now known, was saving his men for what he knew lay ahead. The next day Davout’s troops fought off a major Austrian dawn assault
 then launched their own attack, gradually driving in the enemy left flank
 helping to make Austrian retreat inevitable. Davout and his corps had emerged from another major campaign as heroes. A grateful Napoleon bestowed on him a new title, Prince of EggmĂŒhl. For a few years there was peace in central Europe: Davout spent most of it in Hamburg in his new role as Governor-General of the Hanseatic Cities, cracking down on corruption and illegal trade with Britain. In 1812, Napoleon entrusted him with the enormous task of organising the Grande ArmĂ©e for the invasion of Russia. Davout’s First Corps alone was 72,000 strong, as big as Napoleon’s entire army at Austerlitz. When it crossed the Niemen River in June, its troops were so well turned out, that one observer compared them to the Imperial Guard itself. Davout’s giant corps was the spear-tip of Napoleon’s invasion. He mauled Bagration’s Second Army at Saltanovka, but could not prevent its escape. Three weeks later, his troops were in the thick of the fighting at Smolensk. But Davout’s lack of allies among the other Marshals began to show. Many were keen to see him taken down a peg or two, including Napoleon’s chief of staff, Marshal Berthier – and perhaps even the Emperor himself. When Davout got into a row with Marshal Murat, whom he regarded as incompetent, Napoleon decided in Murat’s favour, giving him one of Davout’s divisions. On the eve of the Battle of Borodino, the Emperor dismissed Davout’s request to outflank the Russian defences. "You are always for turning the enemy,” he told him, “It is too dangerous a movement." In the bloody battle that followed, Davout’s corps led the frontal attack on the FlĂ©ches earthworks. The Marshal himself was injured when his dying horse rolled over him, but remained on the field, directing the attack
 which was, ultimately, successful. Six weeks later, the Grande ArmĂ©e began its infamous retreat from Moscow. The remains of Davout’s corps were ordered to form the rearguard. But he was criticised for moving too slowly. Near Vyazma a gap opened up, and Russian General Miloradovich pounced – First Corps was routed, and saved only by the quick intervention of Marshal Ney, EugĂšne and Poniatowski. Ney’s corps took over as rearguard, but when he became cut off at Krasny, Davout was widely blamed for not turning back to rescue him, even though it would’ve been suicidal. The moment highlighted the gulf in charisma between a Marshal like Ney, who was loved by the troops, and Davout, who was not. Davout began the 1813 campaign holding Dresden, but when Hamburg was raided by Russian Cossacks, Napoleon sent him north to organise the city’s defence. Exactly why Napoleon kept his best Marshal in Hamburg while a decisive campaign raged in Saxony continues to puzzle historians. Davout was a stern and effective governor of Hamburg, securing the Lower Elbe River, and Napoleon’s strategic northern flank. He organised a new Thirteenth Corps, and – following Napoleon’s defeat at Leipzig - withstood a six-month siege. Davout only surrendered Hamburg in May 1814, after confirmation arrived of Napoleon’s abdication. But what difference the ‘Iron Marshal’ might have made at Bautzen, Dennewitz, Leipzig or Laon, remains a tantalising ‘what-if’. Davout was not welcomed into the restored Bourbon regime like other Marshals – his loyalty to Napoleon was despised by the ultra-royalists. Instead he was forced into retirement and put under police surveillance. When Napoleon returned to France in 1815, Davout and Lefebvre were the only Marshals waiting to greet him at the Tuileries Palace. But once again, Napoleon gave Davout a role which - in hindsight - seems a disastrous waste of his ability. Davout was made Minister of War and governor of Paris: vital roles, requiring a brilliant and loyal administrator. And Davout worked miracles to raise a new army for Napoleon’s final campaign. But if Davout, not Grouchy, had commanded the Emperor’s right wing in 1815
 who knows what might have been. Following the Emperor’s defeat at Waterloo, Davout organised the defence of Paris, and urged Napoleon to fight on. Later accepting that he must abdicate, Davout ensured Napoleon’s safe passage to the coast, and submitted to the Bourbons. The royalists had promised Davout that his officers would not be prosecuted for their conduct. He was furious to discover these assurances would not be honoured. He also testified on behalf of Marshal Ney – but could not save him from a firing squad. Davout was stripped of his rank and income, though they were restored two years later, thanks to the intercession of Marshal Macdonald. Davout shunned court, as he always had. His health was failing, and in 1821, the death of his eldest daughter left him grief-stricken. He died two years later of tuberculosis, aged 53. Davout, the youngest and least proven of Napoleon’s Marshals, proved the most capable of all. Cool under fire and a brilliant tactician, he was the ideal corps commander in battle. A superb administrator, he was a stern and loyal deputy for the Emperor in Poland and Germany. His main weakness was his severe and blunt manner which won few friends, and left some even wishing to see him fail
 not something they saw from the ‘Iron Marshal’ very often. So concludes our ranking of Napoleon’s Marshals... 26 dramatic lives that reflect a tumultuous age
 Products of a military meritocracy, forged in the French Revolution
 Skills honed by two decades of war
 Their fates entwined in the rise and fall of empires. History may never see such an extraordinary, diverse and colourful collection of military commanders again. Thank you to all the Patreon supporters who have made this series possible. Visit our Patreon page to find out how you can support the channel, get ad-free early access and help to choose future topics.
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Channel: Epic History TV
Views: 2,969,571
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Keywords: epic history tv, history, epic history, napoleon, napoleonic, marshals, lannes, davout, ney, murat
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Length: 182min 26sec (10946 seconds)
Published: Fri Apr 23 2021
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