The following is an essay from 'Son of Duff' (aka: 'SoD') to which he drew attention in a comment below in which he had the impertinence to contradict his father - yes, I know, shockin', shockin', don't know what this younger generation is coming to! It was posted here in January 2006 after his visit in December 2005 to the Austerlitz battlefield for the 200th anniversary of the battle. Literally thousands of re-enactors from all over the world also attended and the result was spectacular particularly as it snowed and thus recreated the conditions of the actual battle. Well done, 'SoD', I hereby award you the 'VD and Scar' for services to the Emperor!
Ne titterez pas – la riposte!
No-one was ‘titterez-ing’ on the Pratzen heights in South Moravia 200 years
ago. Bonaparte had just won the greatest victory of his career, obliterating
the Austrian army and sending the Russians scurrying back to Moscow. This
probably was France’s last great military victory. As someone else who
was rather famous and in the same line of business at the time once said about
his own greatest victory: “Quelle affaire!”* Bonaparte’s other victories were
good, but nothing shone quite as brightly as his Austerlitz sun.
I’m a bit of a Bonaparte fan actually, and the French revolution is my favorite
revolution. I know that the revolutionary cognoscenti - some of whom visit this
venerable organ of intercourse from time to time – consider the French
revolution a bit naff, in rather the same way that classical music buffs look
down their noses at Tchaikovsky’s ‘1812’ overture. And I suppose the French
revolution did have a naivety, a transparency, which the later convulsions in
the following 200 years cloaked. But it’s through the exposed workings of the
first revolution that we see more clearly the same cogs and spindles in action,
albeit more amateurishly and with less destruction (the fledgling First Republic
ordered into existence specially adapted boats, which could be sunk and
re-floated for the purposes of drowning reactionary Vendee peasants more cost
effectively than using valuable powder and musket balls - long before the word
‘Zyklon-B’ entered the common parlance).
But if that doesn’t float your boat, then you can, as we neo-Liberal’s do, content yourself that Liberty’s little ‘moment of madness’ was a ‘drop in the Loire’ compared with the honourable competition:
Liberty – French revolution and Napoleonic wars 1,000,000
National Socialism – Holocaust and WWII 55,000,000
Socialism – Soviet Union and China 120,000,000
Then ask yourself: “under which ideology/regime would you rather have taken
your chances?”
You may also observe that at the same time as the French were slicing off
upper class heads and drowning ‘les Chavs’ en masse in the Loire (doesn’t sound
so bad after all does it?), the Poles quietly removed their aristocracy from
power and instigated a Liberal republic without a shot being fired. As Edmund
Burke wrote of the Polish constitution of 3rd May 1791:
“… is probably the most pure … public good which has ever been conferred on
mankind … The means were as striking to the imagination as satisfactory to the
reason, and as soothing to the moral sentiments … Everything was kept in its
place and order, but … everything was bettered. To add to this unheard-of
conjunction of wisdom and fortune, this happy wonder, not one drop of blood was
spilled, no treachery, no outrage … Happy people if they know how to proceed as
they have begun.”
And over the next two centuries, many other countries around the world
followed suit.
We can only conclude that: (1) the French just don’t do Liberty very well
(and when you compare the respective economic and social models of France and
Poland today, not much has changed in 200 years), (2) at least Liberty does
revolutionise itself into most places without slaughter and mayhem, in contrast
to (National) Socialism, which so far has never achieved this anywhere
without slaughter and mayhem.
As a Bonapartist, it was therefore my sacred duty to attend the Austerlitz
bicentennial re-enactment and ceremony on the weekend of the 3rd-4th December
2005, which I duly did. For the flight to Brno, in Czech Republic’s Moravia,
Ryan Air charged me the extortionate sum of 2 pence return. Gordon Brown made
up the rest, weighing in at a wallet-fleecing £40. It’s nice to see the
Anglo-Saxon neo-Liberal model is safe in the hands of New Labour. At least Ryan
Air had the decency to pack the plane with long-legged, pert-breasted,
almond-eyed Slavonic au-pair beauties - and serve me chilled Czech beer,
the best beer on the planet. (What is it about Ost Bloc women? Did
the Commies put something in the water? I mean, phhhwwwooooaaarrr! And they’ve
got the best beer on the planet too. What on earth are 'Polish plumbers' and
'Czech electricians' doing in Blighty? Can you imagine the disappointment when
they venture out on their first Saturday night, and meet the pendulous-breasted,
pot-bellied, self-mutilated, binge-drinking, chain-smoking, high-maintenance,
attitude-loaded, Brit fem-Chav, flailing around on the pavement in a puddle of
her own bodily fluids? And then to cap it all, they get served a pint of
Fosters. That’s why they work so bloody hard and never throw a sickie
- they never bother going out).
Anyway, the spectacle I witnessed in the countryside around and about the
town of Austerlitz, now named Slavkov, was simply awesome. Four or five
thousand resplendent loonies in their perfectly reproduced Napoleonic period
uniforms, with three hundred cavalry and thirty artillery pieces with limbers.
They came from all over Europe, literally Gibraltar to Moscow, in fact from all
over the world (irony of ironies, the part of Bonaparte was played by an
American). In all, 21 countries were represented in the various military
history re-enactment societies that took part. If there’s one thing I really
adore in people, it is sincere eccentricity. And this was the ‘sincere
eccentric’s ball’.
My first sighting was of a cavalry patrol as I drove to a warming-up venue on
the day before the main battle re-enactment. When it comes to nerdy things
Napoleonic, I’m afraid you can just call me ‘Jacques l’Anorak’. Even with their
uniforms partially obscured by greatcoats, and while driving a Skoda in icy
conditions, in a place I don’t know, on the wrong side of the road, I could
still discern the unmistakeable Hussars and Chasseurs a Cheval of the Emperor:
-
(Click picture to enlarge)
I swerved off the main road, scrambled over a ditch
and took this picture. As the patrol trotted gracefully by I felt something
welling up inside me. A feeling, energy, I can’t really explain it, but I just
couldn’t help myself, and with all my heart and soul I bellowed: “Liberte! Vive
l’Empereur!” To my astonishment a chorus echoed my legendary salute, and I spun
around to find a crowd of French folks who had also swerved off the road and
were on the same wavelength. The Hussars and Chasseurs joined in! Try it. Go
on. Especially you Trots out there with a lungful of experience in the chanting
department. And really roll those Gallic R’s: “Li-beRRR-te! Vive
l’EmpeRRR-euRRR!”
Oooh, don’t you Love it? It’s just so much classier than “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Out, Out, Out!”, or “What do we want? The right to work. When do we want it? Now!”
The warming up venue was no let down
either. I met some of the Russians; they were going to sleep in tents on the
field of battle as their forefathers had done on the day, adding an extra
dimension of realism (it was going to be minus 10 that night). They seemed
jolly enough at the prospect. Several cart loads of vodka were probably going
to help them out a bit. I then climbed up the Santon hill with the French
Imperial Guard, to the spot where Bonaparte personally sited a gun battery
opposing the Russians.
The picture below is of 'la creme-de-la-creme',
the SAS if you like, of Boney’s army. The chaps on the right with red over
green plumes are Chasseurs of the Old Guard, while the chaps on the left with
the solid red plumes are Grenadiers of the Old Guard. These two regiments were
the most senior in the French army at that time. Their eagles are displayed in
Les Invalides in Paris and are sacred to the honor of the French army. Even
the presence of these images of a glorious past was enough to induce a
respectful silence and an air of solemnity amongst the visitors. There were
Frenchmen of a senior age in blazers and flannels, with ribbons on their
pockets, cap-badged berets on their heads and steely expressions on their faces
who, when the eagle of the 1st Chasseurs (right of picture) was lowered, were
quick to run their wrinkled hands over the cloth:
“A moth-eaten rag on a worm-eaten pole,
It does not look likely to stir a man's soul.
Tis the deeds that were done 'neath the moth-eaten rag,
When the pole was a staff, and the rag was a flag.” **
(Click picture to enlarge)
One lady gasped with reverence when she saw the middle-Eastern attired
gentleman in the middle of the picture: “Voyez, le Mameluke!” These fierce
warriors were the best light cavalry in Europe. They were defeated by Bonaparte
in front of the pyramids, but so respectful was he of their martial prowess that
he enrolled them into the Imperial Guard as his personal body guard. They were
committed to the Republic, and consequently were given a passport, the freedom
of France and the equality and respect to go with it, which has lasted to this
day as the lady’s gasp attests. It’s unfortunate how this bargain doesn’t seem
to work so well for the Republic’s newer recruits from that part of the world
two hundred years down the line.
There was something more to the mood
though, maybe something even verging on the melancholy. It bothered me as I lay
in bed that night until I figured out what it was. The Russians, Czechs, Poles,
in fact all the re-enactors and visitors from new Europe, were bubbly and
buoyant; for them this was a light-hearted event with a festival atmosphere.
For them, delving into the past few hundred years in order to find historical
events to inspire them for the future is a no-no. They look only to the future
for the future. It was the old Europeans, and particularly the French, who
seemed to exude this maudlin seriousness. (Most Brits I know who have visited
the Waterloo battle field come away making the comment “bloody hell, you’d have
thought the French had won it!”, and it’s true the way from the
Waterloo museum and exhibits are presented. But at Austerlitz 2005, however,
you’d have thought the French had lost it!)
But France and much of old
Europe is in pain. Old Europe is discovering that there is no solace or future
direction in serving up its past glories any more, only a sad reflection on the
contrast between the sorry state of today and better times past. While old
Europe is rapidly becoming the planet’s combined geriatric home and museum, new
Europe and the BRIC countries are boldly going where they’ve never been before.
Take little Slovakia. In 2007 she’s set to become the top car producer per
capita not just in Europe, but in the world. Whole valleys in the
foothills of the Tatra Mountains are being developed into car production plants
using vast inward investment from Asia, particularly Korea. Some local schools
will have classrooms dedicated to learning Far East languages and integrating
with their East-Asian socio-economic partners. Now that’s the way
forward. And all of this was achieved by ditching, or never adopting, old
Europe’s socio-economic model and resisting the temptation of weeping into the
colours of the 1st Chasseurs of the Imperial Guard.
It’s interesting how
France’s political class took a wide berth around the Austerlitz event. It
might have been an opportunity for a leader to capture the moment and deliver an
uplifting oration. I think they read the mood well. The low esteem in which
their citizenry hold them right now, combined with reminiscences of (and close
proximity to) bayonets and guillotines, might not have made it the best place
for France’s leading political glitterati to be that day. The old jail-dodger
said he couldn’t do it because the DOM/TOM’s might be offended due to Bonaparte
having brought back the slave trade. Villepin said he was too busy writing his
next book about Bonaparte. So they sent a nobody to read out a speech
somewhere, and, as they say, “a nobody was sent, so nobody went”. Good. It
would only have ruined what was a marvelous day.
Most good generals make a name for themselves by exploiting the mistakes of their opponents. As anyone who has served in the forces knows, there is no organisation of human beings quite as capable of generating a cock-up of monumental proportions as the armed forces (ok so the public sector comes close but for all intents and purposes
they’re really the same thing: command institutions). This is how good generals
find it quite easy to get on in their careers; they’re supplied with a never-ending stream of buffoonery by their enemies.
Once in a while, however, a good general finds himself facing an opponent who hasn’t
made a mistake. These situations normally degenerate into a futile slug-fest;
the best that can be expected being a pyrrhic victory for the side with someone
left standing at the going down of the sun. These are the moments when a
brilliant general has the chance to stand out and make a name for
himself.
A brilliant general is someone who under these circumstances can
induce his enemy into making a mistake. This is exactly what Bonaparte achieved
at Austerlitz.
He was outnumbered 90,000 to 70,000. There was no
opportunity for a repeat performance of the Cannae he had achieved at Ulm
earlier in the campaign - the left flank was impassably forested and the right
flank closely guarded by the Austrians since their supply lines ran that way.
Because the two enemy armies remained cohesive there was no way of quick
marching into his favoured central position (a place well known and coveted by
chess players) and defeating the two divided enemy armies in detail. The only
way to avoid a slug-fest was to lure the Austrians and Russians apart - which he
did.
By luring the Russian and Austrian armies apart, he engineered the
situation that these incompetents usually presented to him without enticement.
Once between the enemy armies it was the same old formula: he first held off the
Russians with a small force, while he crushed the Austrians with his main force;
he then reversed the polarity and pursued the Austrians with a small force,
while he focussed his might on the Russians. By then they knew the story and
were long gone, grumbling their way back to Moscow. It took less than 5 hours
for Bonaparte and France to be masters of continental Europe.
From the top of Santon hill I watched, along with 40,000 other spectators, this drama
unfold before me:
Bonaparte and officers survey the central position
(click picture to enlarge)
It was most realistic, surreal in fact. Even though many of the crowd
weren’t Napoleonic enthusiasts and the temperature was still minus 10, nobody
budged for two hours, not an adult, not a fidgety child, until the main man
emerged from the heat of battle with his bicorn aloft and his voice was heard
above the furious clamour: “La Victoire!”:
Bonaparte announces the victory (click picture to enlarge)
Well after all that excitement even the French had smiles on their faces and
the rest of the evening was taken over to much merriment and revelry.
I found the time the following day to visit the Zuran hill, the spot where the
real Bonaparte conducted proceedings, and bumped into the Chasseurs again. The
choice of Zuran itself is a testament to his genius; you can see just about
every part of the battlefield from there:
‘Jacques l’Anorak’, conformingly attired, with the eagle-bearer of the 1st Chasseurs of the Imperial Guard (Click picture to enlarge)
So, who says France never had great victories?
And where is the emperor that old Europe so desperately needs? Dead, or just resting?
Liberte! Vive l’Empereur!
Son of Duff
* Our very own Lord Wellington (‘the Duke of Boot’) to Marshal Blucher on
defeating Bonaparte at Waterloo
** Sir Edward Bruce Hamley, referring to the
Colours of the 43rd Monmouth Light Infantry
In the unlikely event that anyone is still awake and remotely interested, more photos and information can be found here - http://www.austerlitz2005.com/en/news/