Part 1

The last episode ended with Maurice trudging out of the city of Lützen in the winter of 1709 as an ensign in the First battalion of the Saxon infantry contingent marching to join Prince Eugene's Imperial army fighting the French in Flanders. Though only twelve years of age at the time, he had been ordered by Augustus to walk all the way from Saxony to Flanders, ostensibly to toughen him up.

The strength of the Saxon expeditionary force was four thousand infantry and a thousand each of dragoons and cuirassiers. We gather from Maurice's memoirs that he set off on the march with unbounded enthusiasm. A modern boy jumping into the family car for the long trip to Disney World could hardly be less excited. Recall that while studying at The Hague in 1708, Maurice had become obsessed with The War of the Spanish Succession in Flanders and desperately wanted to march to the sound of the guns. Now he was on his way.

Unfortunately, regardless of his early enthusiasm for the march, before long Maurice was struggling uncomfortably, his feet a mass of blisters, his shoulders black and blue from humping his musket. No doubt he longed for the comfort of the "campaigning coach" Augustus had given him so that if he actually made it to Flanders, he could travel around in the style befitting the son of a king. During the march, however, the noble vehicle creaked along empty somewhere in the rear of the column while Maurice walked.

Though Maurice never even mentions this in his memoirs, the winter of 1708-09 was one of the bitterest in the recorded history of Europe. According to David Chandler in Marlborough as Military Commander "from December until early March much of Europe was in the grip of an almost perpetual frost.... cattle and wildlife died in tens of thousands...seed-corn for the next harvest perished in the ground. Human beings suffered proportionately, and the soldiers on duty faced unusual hazards."

In his memoirs the Count of Mérode-Westerloo writes "you saw men and horses freeze to death on the march; this actually happened to my regiment which lost two troopers.... They had marched with the regiment on 2 January 1709 wrapped up in their cloaks, but they were nevertheless frozen solid mounted upon their horses, which also remained upright." Tough little Maurice actually saw this freeze as an advantage, because the roads were frozen and the column did not have to trudge through mud. Maurice was no whiner. Let us consider for a moment the situation of old colonel von Pruess, Maurice's battalion commander and hence the immediate enforcer of the King's instructions that his son had to go afoot. As the one who actually had to make Maurice walk, von Pruess was placed in a ticklish political situation. We can imagine von Pruess contemplating the possibility that by the time Maurice got to Flanders, the limping but headstrong (and potentially resentful) preteen might have developed a serious dislike for him and could wish to wreck his career as payback for the rigors Maurice was compelled to endure during the march.

On the other hand, von Pruess's career was definitely in the toilet if it got back to Augustus that the colonel had disregarded specific instructions and let Maurice ride. To ward off either possibility, it is plausible von Pruess devised an interesting compromise -— He would make Maurice walk, but he would strive to keep the boy in good spirits by providing entertainments for him as he plodded along. All of the pains the colonel took to sooth the boy are not known. However, we do know he detailed some 'Wendish' soldiers with good singing voices to serenade the youngster with comic soldiers' songs, and in his memoirs Maurice does mention how much this lifted his spirits. To vary the entertainment, von Pruess rustled up a bagpiper somewhere. The record is silent as to how much the bagpipe music actually cheered our struggling little bastard. It is well known that the bagpipe inspires and encourages the Anglo-Celtic soul, but it never caught on in German armies to the best of my knowledge, and since there was not one ounce of Angle or Celt in our hero, it is possible he found this music merely annoying.

Predictably, all efforts to relieve Maurice's physical torment with music and song ultimately failed, and von Pruess finally had to allow the boy to ride horseback before he dropped dead. For two days proud Maurice endured the jibes of the soldiery while riding along dejectedly. Let us not forget that Maurice held his honor dear and his busy fingers tended to caress his sword hilt in anticipation of insult. It is probably good there were no Swedes around to assault. Perhaps he was just too debilitated to attack his tormentors. Anyway, the ride provided a much- needed respite and by the third day our hero had recovered sufficiently to allow him to resume the march on foot. We should not, however, take any of my ramblings here to mean that Maurice was a weakling. Quite the contrary. His march to Brussels when twelve years old demonstrates the physical resiliency and moral fortitude Maurice often displayed in later life to overcome physical suffering in order to do his duty. The best example of this toughness occurs at the battle of Fontenoy.

In late January the Saxon column reached the allied camps around Brussels. Maurice had survived the march and now assumed trappings his station as the son of a king warranted. Schulenburg presented him to Eugene and Marlborough, and he was wined and dined at the tables of the great men. His retinue of servants, his horses, and the campaigning coach were now at his disposal. Maurice must have cut quite a figure as he moved about the allied camp and the vibrant city of Brussels.

Social Life

Though boiling with Königsmarckian impatience for action, it is evident Maurice immersed himself in the social life of the nobility of the army while awaiting the opening of the campaigning season. While thus engaged Maurice believed his royal lineage demanded he play the part of the high noble to the hilt. Doing so meant drinking and gambling with the boys and their often comely, and always flirtatious womenfolk. His station also required the social climber to host dinner parties and other entertainments. These could get expensive, but at this point in his life Maurice was not a wealthy person and was living on a tight budget, relatively speaking.

In A Beau Sabreur, biographer W. R. H. Trowbridge delightfully describes Maurice's situation in the first person: "But delightful as I found the soldier's life, it was, nevertheless, not without its drawbacks. These arose out of the liberal and prodigal tendencies which I had inherited from my father, and which in an atmosphere conducive to extravagance were rapidly developed. For one did not follow a Marlborough or an [sic] Eugene to the wars on a few paltry ducats, and in an army where dukes and princes were as thick as leaves in Vallombrosa the son of a king was naturally expected to cut a figure."

Apparently, during this time Augustus was not in the mood to increase Maurice's stipend from the Saxon treasury. Augustus had his own expensive projects to finance, such as baking of the largest cake in the history of mankind. This historic adventure in baking required 2000 eggs and 5000 pounds of flour. Further, Marie Aurora, who more or less devoted her later life to scrounging money to finance the career of her high-flying son, was having financial difficulties of her own at the moment and could not always meet the demands for cash Maurice's lifestyle demanded.

Hence, to pay for extravagant events such as "dinners of a hundred covers," Maurice went heavily into debt. His dismal financial situation triggered a renewed flurry of letters to his parents begging for increased funding. He wrote, "Without money, I might as well be in the ranks like a fantassin." Thus, it is apparent he was unmoved by his mother's financial plight, expecting her to come up with the money he needed to operate in the style he felt appropriate, regardless of the sacrifice required to do so. Apparently it never occurred to Maurice to simply suspend the partying until he could afford it. Perhaps the only circumstance that saved him from financial disaster was the opening, in mid-June, of the campaigning season.

Campaign Season

The accepted wisdom at the outset of the Flanders campaign of 1709 was that Louis XIV and France were on the ropes and the knockout blow would soon be administered. The army of the Grand Alliance was at its peak strength and was in high morale due to its virtually unbroken string of victories. During the winter it had been augmented by contingents from all over the Empire. Every prince sent what troops he could, motivated primarily by a desire to gather some portion of the fruits of victory soon to be plucked from the French tree. The Allied army would eventually number 194 battalions and 332 squadrons, most of them near full strength. Altogether the army under Marlborough and Eugene numbered in excess of 110,000 men.

While peace negotiations sputtered along during the winter and spring, the able French Marshals Louis-Hector de Villars and Louis Francois, Duc de Boufflers scraped together the "last French army" capable of protecting Paris from the allies. Somewhere they found 150 battalions and 220 squadrons, but this host numbered no more than 85,000 men. Most of the battalions were down to a few hundred men and many were demoralized. Even this strength was achieved only because the peasantry realized that the country was in grave danger and volunteered in surprising numbers. Supplies of all kinds were very inadequate, if available at all, and the government was bankrupt. Many, if not most, French soldiers were every bit as threadbare as the most deprived Confederate private defending Petersburg in 1864.

The ensuing campaign consisted of three major events. The campaign opened with the desperate siege of Tournai, which was eventually captured by the allies at a cost of more than 8,000 casualties. The savage battle of Malplaquet was fought in September. This was a pyrrhic victory for the allies, but the French forever after have claimed that subsequent events suggest they were, in fact, the victors (and I agree with them). The campaign closed with the costly siege of Mons, which was eventually captured by the allies.

Legend

Maurice was present at all three of these major encounters, but his activities are poorly documented except by Maurice himself, and he cannot be believed. Some of his biographers take his assertions of being in the forefront of combat at face value, but most pronounce them the exaggerations of a wishful thinker (or a braggart). Maurice claimed throughout his life that his baptism of fire took place at Tournai, where, ostensibly, seven men were killed and twelve wounded beside him. He alleges his horse was killed under him in this encounter, and that his hat was pierced by a musket ball.

Another legend arose (spread by the youngster himself, of course) that at Malplaquet he threw himself upon the French (in true Königsmarck fashion) with the cry, "I have lived long enough." This is certainly an astonishing battle cry coming from a twelve-year-old. It seems unlikely his pre-campaign partying had satisfied his joie d'vivre to that extent. If the story is true, perhaps he was just tired of dealing with his creditors and wanted some peace. I have been there, and can understand motivation of this nature.

At Mons he was supposed to have been admonished by Marlborough himself for recklessly exposing himself to danger during the siege, where he supposedly escaped death or capture while charging to the rear by turning in his saddle and blowing out the brains of his pursuer. This is the most credible story of the lot, and may actually be true, especially since all his mentors worked hard to keep the rash Königsmarck from getting himself killed. Nevertheless, since Maurice seems to have been extraordinarily headstrong and willful at this point in his life, not to mention cunning, we can imagine him contriving to scamper away from his overseers whenever possible in order to charge recklessly into action. Thus a reprimand from one of his babysitters seems entirely feasible.

Though it is probable Maurice saw some action, it seems likely that he was attached to Schulenburg's staff and spent most of his time near headquarters learning the art of command by performing routine staff duties. Reading between the lines of the instructions given Schulenburg by Augustus (as related in Part One), it is evident that Maurice was to be utilized in this fashion while in Flanders.

Immediately after the siege of Mons ended, Maurice was dragged kicking and screaming back to Brussels for more study. Although I doubt that those responsible for his safety were grieved by his departure from the army, Maurice's mother was no doubt the force behind this change of fortune. Marie Aurora knew Maurice's habits when he was bored, and during winter quarters wanted him locked-up with scholars in order to curb his ebullient squandering of money neither of them possessed, and Augustus was unwilling to give. Somehow, she had gotten it into her head that Maurice should become a priest instead of a soldier, thus giving all of us who are parents a breathtaking example of just how much we can misunderstand our kids. The success of her plan was short-lived, however, as Maurice would not stand for a return to study, much less entry into the priesthood.

In an indignant response to his parents, Maurice states, "[though] I am not yet fourteen have I not borne the fatigue of an exhausting campaign like a man, have I not been treated as a man by all my seniors and superiors? To expect me, accustomed to obey the commands of generals, to take orders from tutors is too much. I to apply myself to the study of the 'intellectual sciences' after mounting guard and copying the plans of Schulenburg? Never!"

Thus, in 1710 Maurice was back in the field, but the war in Flanders had wound down considerably. The political leaders of the countries comprising the Grand Alliance had been stunned by the casualty lists of Malplaquet, and become wary. They resolved no longer to allow the generals carte blanche to fight general engagements. In fact, there were no battles fought at all in 1710.

In spite of the fact that Marlborough's army outnumbered its opponent by 40,000 men, it made little headway against the French during the 1710 campaign. French strategy was not so much to win the war, but simply to avoid losing by making it too costly for the Allies to advance further into France. According to one of his biographers, in 1710 Maurice was present at the sieges of Douai and Aire, but his efforts at these encounters are not recorded.

More Marshal Saxe

Introduction
Genes: Parents and Family
Early Days
War and Debt
Lessons Learned in Flanders
In Action Against the Swedes

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