Francois Etienne Christophe Kellermann
Duc De Valmy
The Fighting Marshals
by Ian Barstow, UK
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Kellermann was born in Strasbourg on 28 May 1735. Part of the often disputed region of Alsace-Lorraine, Kellermann was thus bilingual like Ney, since the locals never quite knew who would be running the show next week. With a father who was a tax collector, Kellermann can hardly have belonged to the most popular local family, and with his mind set upon a military career in the Bourbon army, on the surface it seems quite likely that he should have only been destined for at best a senior NCO's rank. After all, these were the Bad Old Days. He entered the Bourbon army as a cadet in 1752, joining the Lowendahl Regiment, a unit with a high proportion of German-speakers in its ranks. The following year he was commissioned into the Royal-Bavarie regiment as an ensign, proving that already taxmen were indeed climbing the social ladder. He fought during the Seven Years' War, and having transferred to the dragoons distinguished himself at the battles of Bergen and Friedburg. It seems that again, as Ney was to do, Kellermann often commanded irregular cavalry formations carrying out some of the more unorthodox operations that even a war as apparently stereotyped as the Seven Years' War required. I for one find such similarities fascinating, yet they often seem to be casually overlooked as either too lightweight or irrelevant. After the war, in 1765, Kellermann was despatched to Eastern Europe, helping the Poles and Tartars to organise cavalry forces. 1769 saw Kellermann promoted to captain in the hussars. He also married and a year later produced the son about whom we have already had discourse. In 1771 he as awarded the Cross of St Louis, backdated to take effect from the end of the Seven Years' War, and that year he was back in Poland as a cavalry instructor. This turned out to be a good 'bag-carrier's' number, because on his return to France in '72 he was promoted to lieutenant colonel. Being a time of boring peace – how they would have loved the second half of this century – there was not much to do except continue to drill and organise, and hope that one caught the eye of the right people. Despite his relatively low social level, Kellermann slowly rose through the ranks. By 1784 he was a brigadier general with a decent reputation. Lieutenant General 1792 was of course the year that things kicked off properly. On March 20 Kellermann became a lieutenant general. The Revolution had begun and the king was already little more than a washed-up puppet. The representatives of the people were setting precedents to be followed by the NKVD and one foot wrong generally ended in a one-way trip to Paris. On the positive side, however, this meant that the opportunities for advancement if you survived were potentially huge. There are varied opinions as the how Kellermann reacted to the Revolution. I tend to agree with Peter Hofschröer's assessment that at least in the beginning he had a degree of sympathy for it, bearing in mind his own background. However, this would have been tempered by years in the system. My own experiences – and no doubt that of the editor's – in the police have shown people who joined full of zeal and ardour, only to be 'corrupted' by the system over the years until only promotion became important, so this aspect should not be ignored. By 1792 Kellermann had a lot of time in, and had contacts throughout the army, right up to the minister of war, Servan. He certainly was old enough to have forgotten his roots. It is certainly a safe bet that he did not take to the informer culture that had developed. Keeping his nose clean and concentrating on licking his various commands into proper combat formations, on 20 August 1792, Kellermann was rewarded by replacing Luckner as commander of the Army of the Centre at Metz. Sadly this army was a complete shambles, under-equipped and under-achieving. Meeting for the first time the future imperial chief of staff, Berthier, Kellermann proceeded to become the original 'new broom', and promptly swept the place clean. Several battalions had been sent to the front without even being properly armed, and he promptly sent them contemptuously back, having sifted them thoroughly for good quality replacements. Things meanwhile were beginning to get hairy, and in mid September Kellermann as obliged to go to the assistance of Dumouriez's Army of the North who were hard pressed by the Duke of Brunswick. Meeting at Valmy, Brunswick decided that the sound of cannons was enough for him and he promptly legged it with his tail between his legs. Kellermann then followed up, recapturing Longwy and Verdun. As was the way during this period however, nothing was stable for five minutes and on 5 November Kellermann was posted to the less impressive Army of the Alps and Italy. As was the case in ancient civilisations like Pontus and Parthia, for instance, success on the battlefield equated to a threat to the state. Thus like so many others, Kellermann suddenly came under suspicion, after all, hadn't he been a loyal Bourbon for so long? In October 1793 he was arrested and was lucky to be overlooked for a whole year – even though he was in prison – as by the time he came to trial things had cooled a few notches, and he as acquitted. Finally in March 1795 he was returned to his command in the Alps. However Kellermann did not have Fortune on his side, and in 1797 some chap named Bonaparte was brought in to take over in Italy. I wonder what became of him. Finally that September Kellermann's army was disbanded and it seemed that he had missed his chance. Indeed in many ways he had. What followed was a series of administrative postings, starting with the Seventh Military Division at Lyons, then helping to reorganise the cavalry, then examining military fortresses. September 1798 saw him inspector general of cavalry for the short-lived Army of England. Similar sort of stuff followed, and in 1799 he became a senator and later president of the Senate. Finally, as the empire beckoned, on 19 May 1804 Kellermann was given his baton, fifteenth on the seniority list of marshals. Marshal If Kellermann thought that this meant a return to front rank action, he was to be disappointed. He was no 69 years old, and far too ancient to lead troops in the style of warfare that the Emperor was to foist on Europe. Instead, napoleon wisely utilised his ageing marshal where he would be of most use, commanding and training reserve formations. Various de Riguer awards came his way, of course, but the one that must have pleased him most was Duc de Valmy on 3 June 1808. Throughout the empire the old marshal did sterling service, getting the conscripts ready for that first hell of battle. Following the 1814 abdication, the Bourbons made Kellermann a peer of France, and this was enough to ensure that he stayed away from Napoleon during 1815, even though his son was doing sterling service with his cavalry corps. This was probably not one of the greatest blows that the Emperor suffered, as even had he been available at 80 to sort out the recruits the campaign was over before it had properly begun. Rejoining the Bourbons on their second return, he worked lightly with the cavalry up until his death in 1820. Conclusions So, what can we conclude about Kellermann. He was certainly an excellent military administrator and invaluable at doing the sorts of mundane work essential to the functioning of an army. He was possessed of a good level of personal bravery and he had regularly exposed himself to fire throughout his front line career. Sadly there is an air of the boring about him though. Clearly bereft of that spark of luck essential to be a great commander, one feels that Kellermann may have got where he was by simply doing as little wrong as he did right. The marshal's baton certainly has a smell of the 'what are we going to do with this spare one' syndrome. I cannot even build up the usual ire which desertion in 1815 usually brings up in me. After all he was a real fogy by that time. He was never really one of the lads. He qualifies as a Fighting Marshal, but only just. Back to Table of Contents -- First Empire #49 Back to First Empire List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 1999 by First Empire. This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com |
One of the most regular errors made by writers discussing the Napoleonic Wars is that the Kellermann who led a cavalry corps in 1815 in the Waterloo campaign was the same Kellermann who led the cannonade at Valmy so many years before. I have seen this half a dozen times in wargames-related articles, and even once or twice by so-called heavyweight writers who ought to know better. This confusion primarily arises because of the fact that both men bore similar Christian names, the other being Francois Etienne as well, plus they were both cavalry commanders, and, if you hadn't quite got there yourself yet, they were father and son. Add to that that in later life the son inherited the father's title, Duc de Valmy, and it is easy to see how a mistake could be made. However, only one of the two reached the rank of marshal, and it is him that we are interested in at this time.