Читать книгу The Pomp of Power - Laurance Lyon - Страница 8

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Shortly after the Battle of the Marne the French Grand Quartier Général was established at Chantilly. There it remained so long as Joffre was Commander-in-Chief, the first of several moves being made soon after he was succeeded by Nivelle.

Joffre’s supercession in December, 1916, had consequences which affected not only the conduct of the war, but, indirectly, the relations between the Allies. An examination of the causes of that change, and of the incidents which led up to it, is therefore pertinent.

The Battle of the Marne obliterated, for the moment, all recollection of the failure of the strategy of the General Staff. Joffre’s unfortunate persistence in his mistake about the German plans was likewise forgotten. To be deceived about what the enemy is going to do is often the most fatal of errors. But in the course of human events it is also the most common. Any other general might have been equally deluded. But Joffre did what no other French general could have done during the long and disastrous retreat. It was said of him by one of his officers that, “Il distillait la confiance et la tranquillité comme d’autres distillent l’inquiétude et l’agitation.” That was the quality which, to some extent, was responsible for the unbroken morale of the soldier in the line, which so greatly surprised von Klück.

But Joffre’s habit of disclosing nothing and of refusing to discuss anything was even more notable in time of war than it had been in days of peace.

On the morning of August 3rd, 1914, the generals who were in command of the various French armies were summoned to the rue St. Dominique to meet the Commander-in-Chief. After the usual salutations General Dubail, who commanded the First Army, got up and pointed out that during the offensive of his army against Strasbourg he would need strong forces to cover his Right and Rear along the left bank of the Upper Rhine.

Joffre simply answered: “This plan is yours; it is not mine.”

Dubail, thinking that Joffre had not understood him, again explained his point. But Joffre, according to Lanrezac, “his face beaming with his customary benevolent smile,” replied in exactly the same words. There was general embarrassment, and the conference ended. “One of my colleagues, visibly moved,” records Lanrezac, “asked me, in confidence, whether I thought that General Joffre had an idea. I replied ‘Yes’ without hesitation, but my mind was clouded by a doubt.”[44]

At Chantilly Joffre was equally taciturn and secretive. But the disasters of the first few weeks had had their effect. No more was heard of an offensive à l’outrance. That doctrine was definitely abandoned, nor were there any further instructions about artillery following the infantry; on the contrary, it was now specifically laid down that the artillery should prepare the way for infantry attacks.

In his general idea Joffre seemed to go from one extreme to the other. While at Chantilly he did not want to take any risk. His sole belief was in the guerre d’usure; and valuable time and more valuable lives were wasted in many fruitless and partial attacks. For Joffre was convinced that the war was already won, and that it was only necessary to let time do its work in order to witness the collapse of Germany.[45] When a certain plan was proposed, involving the construction of factories for munitions or artillery, Joffre protested that, as the work would take the better part of a year, it was useless to begin it, since the war would be won before the end of that period.

That Joffre was not generous, and perhaps not even just, was shown by his treatment of Galliéni. He was jealous of any possible rival, and always careful lest he should be supplanted. When de Castelnau was appointed Major-General, he insisted that, before he was sent to Chantilly, his powers should be more limited than the Government had proposed. While when de Castelnau actually arrived at the Grand Quartier Général he was practically isolated and left with little or nothing to do. Joffre did not even let the Government into his full confidence, and during the operations of September, 1914, he wrote to Galliéni warning him against communicating anything to the Cabinet, which was then at Bordeaux.

On the other hand, he arrogated to himself the right to correspond with Allied Governments entirely independently of the French Government; and upon one occasion at least this course nearly caused grave trouble with Italy. In his plenitude of power, he dealt penalties and gave rewards, and was certainly not sparing of the former. The number of Generals whom he “limogéd” is almost incredible. It is fair to add that he was quite impartial, and that only military considerations and not political persuasions were ever taken into account.

He himself was an avowed Republican; and a Freemason whom the Grand Orient had felicitated upon his promotion in 1911. A Frenchman of high standing in the political world and a close friend of Joffre’s who went to see him at Chantilly once sang to me the praises of the Commander-in-Chief, ending by saying: “et surtout il est un bon republicain.”

But if Joffre’s friends made that a point in his favour, he himself was never influenced by it in dealing with others; although one of the chronicles of Chantilly does state that he once got angry because there was no meat on the table on Good Friday. Nor, like Sarrail, did he ever try to make capital out of his republicanism.

But while he never played politics, he was, as André Tardieu once observed, “a born deputy,” as those who intrigued against him more than once discovered. He knew how to make and how to keep friends in the political world for his own protection. Perhaps the most potent and the most active of these was M. Huc, Director of La Dépêche de Toulouse, a journal which, on account of its wide electoral influence in several Departments, has always more power upon the Government of the day than almost any Parisian newspaper.

The members of Joffre’s Staff were firmly attached to him. They were indeed too ardent, and in the end harmed him. He himself was by no means indifferent to his own renown. During the months when he was at Chantilly after the Battle of the Marne, presents poured in upon him from every part of the globe, while letters from those calling him the saviour of the world to those which only made some trivial request came by the thousands. M. de Pierrefeu says that Joffre shut himself up by the hour reading these missives—a statement which it is somewhat difficult to accept.

So long as Millerand was Minister of War Joffre was secure. No complaint against him got any consideration whatever. But in October, 1915, Galliéni succeeded Millerand in the Briand Cabinet. It was only a few weeks earlier (on September 25th) that Joffre had issued the ungenerous and misleading citation in the Ordre de l’Armée regarding Galliéni’s conduct in September, 1914. This citation was given a year after the Battle of the Marne in order to check the eulogies of Galliéni’s foresight which, to Joffre’s annoyance, were still being widely spread.

But when in office Galliéni did not once show that he had any personal resentment on account of this or other incidents. Upon every occasion when he mentioned Joffre’s name in debate it was to defend or to praise him.

The first difference of opinion between the Minister of War and the Commander-in-Chief arose in December, 1915, when Colonel Driant was at his own request heard by the Army Commission of the Chambre des Députés. Driant was both a soldier by profession and also Deputy for Nancy. Incidentally he was the son-in-law of General Boulanger. He told the Commission that the Verdun district, where he commanded a sector, was entirely unprepared to resist any attack. The Commission communicated this startling statement to Galliéni, who was all the more moved by it because he was aware of Driant’s worth. On December 16th he wrote to Joffre saying that the Government had received accounts to the effect that in certain regions, amongst others Verdun, the necessary trench work had not yet been done. He asked for an assurance that upon all points of the Front the organisation of at least two lines had been completed, and enforced by barbed wire and other obstacles.

On December 18th Joffre replied that orders had been given on October 22nd; that their execution had been constantly controlled; and that at the places mentioned there were three or four successive positions of defence, either finished or on the way to completion. Having given this assurance, Joffre complained of the Government attaching any credence to such reports; asked to be told who had made them; and threatened to resign if he was again troubled in that manner. Galliéni wrote a letter which by its tone alone should have given satisfaction to Joffre, and the incident seemed closed.

But Driant was right and Joffre was wrong. In January, 1916, when de Castelnau returned from Salonica, Joffre sent him to inspect Verdun. He found that the defences were entirely insufficient, and gave orders that a regiment of engineers should be despatched to do the necessary work. Unfortunately, the Germans did not wait, but attacked on February 21st, and carried all before them. It was in this combat that Colonel Driant was killed while he was trying himself to safeguard the retreat of his men.

I am referring to the Battle of Verdun simply to show to what extent it affected Joffre. It is therefore only necessary to recall that on February 24th, after Joffre, following his usual custom, had gone to bed early, the news became increasingly grave. De Castelnau wanted to see Joffre, but the officer on duty did not wish to awaken the Commander-in-Chief. But as the news became more serious de Castelnau returned to Joffre’s villa and insisted. When the latter had read the despatches he agreed that de Castelnau should go at once to Verdun, and invested him with full powers. The latter arrived there the following morning, after passing through scenes which bore witness that growing disaster threatened to become a panic; and, after doing what he could to restore confidence, summoned Pétain.

When details came from Verdun the Government realised that the assurance given in Joffre’s letter of December 18th had had no solid foundation. Verdun was not fortified as he had said it was. Galliéni was especially affected by this discovery. It confirmed him in the view which he had long held, that there should be some definite control over the High Command. On March 7th he read at a Cabinet meeting a memorandum, the gist of which was that steps should be taken to limit Joffre’s power and to prevent him from usurping the functions of the Minister of War. Briand, who, for national reasons, wished to retain Joffre, would have liked Galliéni to withdraw this document. But the latter persisted in demanding that consideration should be given to his recommendation. When Galliéni found himself unable to obtain satisfaction he resigned, being succeeded by General Roques, who was known to be friendly to Joffre.

There had already been numerous attacks upon Joffre from outside, and throughout his opponents had been pressing the Government to limit his powers, if not virtually to dispossess him of the supreme command. During March and April, 1915, anonymous memoranda had been sent to various deputies and others. Presumably an effort was made to sow the seed upon fertile soil. But sometimes the judgment of the authors was at fault, and their compilations fell into the wrong hands. These accusatory reports criticised Joffre unfairly, both for what he had done and for what he had neglected to do. They further complained that it was improper that he should appoint to the high commands without any control on the part of the Government; and alleged that those to whom he had given armies were for the greater part not good Republicans. The tendency of these documents was to assert that there was only one general to whom, both for military and political reasons, the Republic could safely entrust the conduct of the war—Sarrail. The internal evidence makes it clear that these reports must have been the work of someone on, or in close communication with, Sarrail’s staff. Although, as M. Mirmeix has justly remarked, it would be unfair, in the absence of any proof, to presume that they were written or distributed with the knowledge or assent of that general.

But what some were thus spreading secretly others were saying more openly. Finally, in a letter to Briand, dated November 18th, 1915, M. Léon Accambray, deputy for Laon, advanced practically the same charges, with the addition of a direct eulogy of Sarrail. Accambray reiterated this when speaking in the Chambre des Députés. But Briand, who, as a persuasive parliamentarian, has no equal in France, was determined to retain Joffre. He used his influence over the Chambre, while at the same time he gave some more or less illusory satisfaction by making certain changes in the composition not of the Conseil Supérieur de la Guerre, but in that of the Conseil Supérieur de la Défense Nationale.

In reality this left Joffre’s position unchanged, while, as a matter of fact, his authority had recently been extended. In July, 1915, Joffre had removed Sarrail from the command of the Third Army, after the circulation of the secret memoranda (March-April, 1915), but before Accambray’s letter to Briand. Sarrail’s political friends (and he had always been active in politics) had made every effort to get him reinstated, but Joffre had held firm. The Government had, therefore, in August, 1915, given Sarrail the command of the Army of the Orient, the formation of which began from that time. Joffre was unwilling to lessen his forces by allowing troops to go to Salonica. In his view it would have been unwise to run any risk of weakening the Western Front by sending men to reinforce such an expedition. Moreover, Lord Kitchener, then Minister of War, upon his return from Greece, in November, 1915, had pronounced absolutely against the proposed army. The question was to be finally decided at a conference of the Allies on December 4th. Briand, to whom history will give full credit for the Salonica expedition, showed his habitual cleverness. By one and the same stroke both secured the active support of Joffre at Calais (which doubtless turned the scale, although it did not then convince Kitchener), and satisfied Joffre’s susceptibilities about an independent army in the East; for on the eve of the conference Joffre was named Commander-in-Chief of all the French Armies, which thus again made Sarrail his subordinate.

So long as it was a matter of political manœuvring against the friends of Sarrail and against those who thought that Joffre’s powers were too extensive, and his conduct too arbitrary, Briand was still able to control the situation. Nevertheless, Joffre’s position was no longer the same. Galliéni had been a tower of strength, for his testimony in favour of the Commander-in-Chief was that of a soldier whose eminent services and brilliant talents were unquestioned—who had no political connections—and who, as was well known, had little reason to be friendly to Joffre or to the Grand Quartier Général. But, precisely for the same reason, the fact that he had finally demanded the curtailment of Joffre’s activities, and had resigned because Briand did not support him on that point, had undermined Joffre’s position—and more so than was at first apparent. Roques had not the same military reputation; while his very friendship with Joffre was rather a source of weakness in the Chambre, until his favourable report on Sarrail (whose army he had gone to inspect at the demand of the Allies in November, 1916) had silenced the latter’s friends.

Nevertheless, Briand would probably have been able to maintain Joffre had it not been for the Battle of the Somme. For it is a curious fact that the cumulative effect of Verdun and of the Somme were (though for very different reasons) responsible for the removal of Joffre on the one side, and on the other of Falkenhayn, who was succeeded by Hindenburg and Ludendorf.

The disappointment in France at the result of the Battle of the Somme solidified the feeling that the country could not continue to stand the deadly but unproductive warfare of which Joffre was the admitted protagonist. In some quarters he was also now blamed for the Roumanian fiasco. The irritation that no effective control should have been exercised over the military adventures of a country which the Allies had aided both with supplies and technical missions was natural. But there were reasons, clear, if not at first obvious, why the Roumanians were pretty well bound to have their own way. While, moreover, they had had a right to count upon that promised Russian assistance which had not been forthcoming. In any event it was unjust to hold Joffre responsible for what happened merely because he commanded all the French Armies, and had sent to Roumania General Berthelot, who had been his right arm at the Battle of the Marne.

Briand, however, had no longer to meet either secret or flimsy charges. He was faced with facts and with a current of public opinion, supported by such men as Paul Doumer, whose close connection with Galliéni, during the siege of Paris, did not make him any more favourable to Joffre.

If Briand could have had his own way he would have retained Joffre while restricting his powers, as he had always been willing to do so far as possible. It is doubtful whether, at this period, he had any great faith in Joffre as a military genius, or in the correctness of his mode of warfare. But he realized, as he had always done, that Joffre was an invaluable asset on account of the effect his name and personality had on the Allies. Above all, he thought that if unity of command were ever feasible, it would be easier to get the Allies to accept it under Joffre than under any other French General. How well founded was this belief was proved by the fact that when, eighteen months later, the question of a unique commander was being actively discussed, Colonel House, who represented President Wilson, at once suggested Joffre, although the latter had taken no part in the direction of the war during the previous campaign. But with his keen sense of political atmosphere Briand felt that this time it would be impossible to cover Joffre fully. Therefore, before the secret session of November 28th, 1916, he did his utmost to persuade the latter to agree to relinquish the direct command of the armies, while accepting some other and less well-defined post. But even to Briand, most seductive of statesmen, Joffre was adamant. He wanted what he had or nothing at all. He refused to resign. Let Briand remove him if he wished to do so. These sterile interviews succeeded each other for days; some being held at the Elysée in the presence of Poincaré. In the meantime the secret session continued, but it was impossible to make any progress before Joffre’s future was settled. Finally, on December 3rd, 1916, Joffre yielded. The next day Briand told the Chambre des Députés that Joffre was to leave Chantilly for Paris, that a new Commander of the Armies of the North and North-East would be appointed (who would have no control over the Army of the Orient); and that the powers of the Grand Quartier Général were to be restricted.

Upon this declaration the Chambre gave the Government the vote of confidence which Briand needed.

A Presidential Decree of December 13th defined, but somewhat vaguely, Joffre’s future duties: “Le Général Joffre, Commandant-en-Chef des Armées Françaises, remplit auprès du Gouvernement le rôle de conseiller technique en, ce qui concerne la direction de la Guerre.”

It had been intended that Joffre should still retain most of his staff. A large house had been taken at Neuilly and was being put in order to receive them. Those who were to accompany the General had already arranged to leave Chantilly on a fixed day. But although Briand had come to terms with the Chambre he had still to get the assent of the Senate. The news of Joffre’s proposed installation with his staff, against whom there had been so many complaints, was received unfavourably by Paul Doumer and his friends. It was thought that it would simply mean Chantilly in Neuilly: that the Government would not have that control, and that Nivelle (who, on December 13th, had been named to succeed Joffre in command of the Armies of the North and North-East) would not have that freedom of action which Parliament desired. The secret sessions of the Senate were held between December 19th and 23rd. Briand recognised the determination of the majority. He therefore assured the Senate that Joffre would have no further independent power; and that instead of going to Neuilly he was to be at the Hôtel des Invalides with a small secretariat. Upon this statement he obtained the vote.

Briand, whose political position was already weakened, had placed the resignation of his Ministry in the hands of the President, and had received permission to form a new Government. This he had done on December 11th, having a small Cabinet, with General Lyautey as Minister of War. The latter only arrived from Morocco some time later. He at once refused to take possession of his office on the ground that after his appointment, but before his arrival, certain steps had been taken without his knowledge and for which he would not accept responsibility. Amongst other things he complained of the appointment of Joffre as the Technical Adviser to the Government. In his opinion that was the natural function of the Minister of War, or of those whom he might call into consultation.

Upon the other hand, it would seem that Joffre was not contented with his anomalous position, and that indirectly he made some overtures to secure the bâton of a maréchal of France, which had some weeks earlier been held out as a bait by Briand in his attempt to secure his resignation. Advantage was taken of this opening, and Joffre was relieved of the office he had held for less than two weeks: about the only thing he had done was to remove Foch from his command upon the plea that he needed a rest. On December 26th a Presidential Decree named Joffre Maréchal of France, the first maréchal created by the Third French Republic.

From that day Joffre had no further part in the conduct of the war.

Of the extent of Joffre’s capacity it is difficult to judge.

His calmness is as legendary as his taciturnity. He slept soundly during the most trying times. The late M. Etienne, once Minister of War, and always friendly to Joffre, acquired during the Battle of Verdun the habit of telephoning to Chantilly every evening about eleven o’clock. Needless to say, Joffre had then been asleep for some hours: an invariable answer which always satisfied M. Etienne. Equally well known is the story of how one day in August, 1914, he was lunching at British Headquarters when Sir John French (who had been singularly unsuccessful in trying to make Joffre talk about his plans) was called away suddenly by the news that part of his army was in a desperate position: and Joffre remained and calmly finished his own luncheon.

But these qualities of silence and impassivity which were at times an undoubted asset, were also perhaps at other moments injurious to his reputation. Not only did he say little but it seemed to be a positive effort for him to talk. One of Kitchener’s colleagues in the Cabinet has mentioned that he was so silent that he generally appeared dense, if not stupid: but that from time to time, very occasionally—he made a remark which was like a brilliant flash of lightning in the darkness—it illuminated everything for an instant. But Joffre’s silence was more complete, more consistent, and more stolid than that. It is therefore difficult to say whether it covered any original creative ideas. The impression which he gave to Lanrezac and other army commanders on August 2nd, 1914, was that it probably did not. His own evidence before the Commission sur la Métallurgie, and especially when attempts were made to find out how far he was responsible for the plan of 1914, and to what extent he had prepared for any eventualities, was lamentable.

Joffre certainly was a formidable personage. But he was impressive partly because he did not and could not be made to talk, even when he might reasonably be expected to do so. His failure, or possibly his inability, to do so upon these latter occasions sometimes appeared to his personal disadvantage; and raised the doubt as to whether his silence originated entirely in his love of secrecy or in the fact that there was really nothing behind it which he could produce.

It is curious to compare with this the characteristic way in which Foch converses. It was quite typical that on the historic day of the Doullens meeting he should have spoken as follows: “Heu! Vous connaissez ma méthode. Heu! Je colle un pain à cacheter là, puis un là, puis un autre là—le Boche n’avance presque plus. J’en colle encore un. Et le Boche est fixé. On fixe toujours le Boche.”[46]

This difference between Joffre’s and Foch’s style of conversation was entirely illustrative of the diversity of their ideas about the way in which the war should be prosecuted. Foch’s words picture graphically his mode of annoying the enemy, until he could seize the favourable moment to crush him. Joffre, on the other hand, believed in the guerre d’usure. He pinned his faith absolutely to wearing out the Germans on the Western Front. In this he resembled Sir William Robertson. But Robertson always thought that the war would last some time, and was never at any moment confident that victory was near—if only because there were too many wicked politicians in the world: whereas it was one of Joffre’s fixed ideas that he was always on the point of winning the war, and that therefore it was unnecessary to provide for what might happen a year or so ahead.

In the course of time it was seen that Joffre’s policy of warfare was likely to prove more fatal to his own country than to the enemy: and this conviction led to the downfall of the victor of the Marne.