By Steven W. Popper
Choiseul was an active participant in Marshal Belle-Isle's advance toward Prague in 1741. His regiment was placed in the hindmost of the two corps into which the French Army of Bavaria had been divided. After a somewhat meandering autumn, the elements of the Allied force finally gathered together in December before the walls of Prague. The campaign was unusual in several respects. In the first place, the French were not actually at war with Austria but were rather acting in the capacity of "auxiliaries" to the then largely nonexistent army of the Electorate of Bavaria in support of that worthy's claim to the imperial dignity of the Holy Roman Empire. Further, the hostilities were marked, as we shall see, by an unusual winter campaign principally conducted as petite guerre in a series of small actions of detachments. And the eventual taking of Prague was through subterfuge and a single, uncharacteristically bold Saxon stroke in the early dawn hours, quite in violation of the teachings of Vauban and accompanied - given the lack of artillery support and, indeed, by that time, secure lines of communication -- by the tsk-tsking and tongueclacking of the senior French officers present, the future Marshal de Saxe, who led the stroke against Prague, excepted. The city, one of the great fortresses of Europe, was taken at the cost of thirty-six total casualties. Choiseul's regiment was not a direct participant in the storming of the city. However, the Regiment du Roi did conduct quite active, grinding operations during that exceedingly bitter winter that followed, conditions of service quite unusual both for those times and in light of standard French practice. But the Regiment du Roi was known as a fighting regiment. Although somewhat new - created to provide the best training (under its Lt. Col. de Martinet) for the scions of the first families of France -- its colonel, Louis XIV, had purchased a repositioning of its seniority so it was considered the last of the twelve vieux regiments of the French army. As such, its officers received special allowances, prior choice of position in battle and billet, and its men the right to regimental court martial rather than trial at the army level. Be that as it may, during the hard grind of that winter of 1741-1742 while his regiment was providing some stiffening to a largely Saxon force, Choiseul himself appears to have managed to enjoy the more congenial surroundings of Prague proper. Authorities differ. He is said to have been wounded in the taking of Prague but if true this would appear to be most unfortunate in that casualties to the French, largely assigned a feinting role, were quite light. It may be that he suffered a less glorious indisposition or that, as a somewhat high living young spark, he may have managed to slip the leash on the pretext of illness in order to enjoy pursuits more to his liking than dodging Croats, pandours, and hussars in the snows of Bohemia. Or perhaps this young man had had his nose attuned by his experiences in the eastern campaign of 1739 and had developed the precocious ability to sniff disaster early on. If Choiseul was in Prague while the French forces in the field were undergoing hardships that would be legendary for decades to come, he might have glimpsed Frederick the Great at that time. In a momentary interlude between betrayals of his allies, the King of Prussia came through town to engage in conversations with their senior officers and provide the latter with military advice designed to suit his own purpose. If so, this would be the first time that young Choiseul would have come in contact with his future great antagonist. Regiment du Roi re-entered Prague on 28 February 1742 after slogging through yet another in a series of snow storms. Presumably at that point Choiseul manfully stepped forward to resume his place in its depleted ranks. But by then everything was descending into muddle. There was confusion and conflict within the marshalate occasioned by a swapping of army commands that only succeeded in freezing all forces into inaction. Aged General Leuville dropped dead on the march. And the commander of the force to which du Roi was attached appears to have been killed off by an overdose of laxatives ("une superpurgation"). Could young Lt. de Choiseul have begun to see in all of this genteel decay a metaphor for the sclerotic state of the King of France's military machine? But the end was not yet. With the coming of spring, the French under the superannuated Duc de Broglie sortied from Prague, Choiseul now numbered among that host. On 25 May 1742, the Army of Bohemia attacked Prince Lobkowitz's force around the village of Sahay. While the Regiment du Roi was not engaged as a unit, elements appear to have been involved in the infantry assault on the Austrian position. Twice the French were thrown back but the third time they carried the day led by Marshal Belle-Isle who attacked on foot, sword in hand. The enemy slipped away during darkness. All in all, this was only a small affair (about 300 total French casualties) but it played up big back home because it really had been the only pitched battle of the entire campaign to date. (Think of the fuss over our own Ball's Bluff in 1861 which took place during a similar vacuum of inaction). However, this was our hero's first battle on behalf of France and he so distinguished himself that he was mentioned in dispatches, the equivalent in that day of being decorated. But after Sahay, Marshal de Broglie just sat. By mid-June 1742, his force had pulled back under the guns of Prague while the Austrians were left unmolested as they gradually gathered sufficient strength to lay close siege to that place. By this time the four battalions of Regiment du Roi had between them 1,230 men, as compared to their authorized strength of 3,080, the largest infantry establishment in the French army. Even before the beginning of the formal bombardment, the French began to lose some forty men a day in desertions and disease. In the absence of fodder, the effectiveness of the cavalry arm soon expired along with 15,000 of their horses. This was truly remarkable: the Austrians were besieging a strong fortress not defended by a garrison, but by an entire field army - and getting away with it. No wonder Choiseul was later to remark, "I do not like the de Broglies ... So far nothing has come out of this family that is not entirely mediocre." Taking matters in hand, Marshal Belle-Isle did lead a 6,000-man sortie during the night of 18-19 August. The French, with the Regiment du Roi in the van, took a section of Austrian trenches a la bayonet (ordinarily a French proclivity but this time reinforced by the dwindling supply of powder). Not to be shown up, Marshal de Broglie mounted his own effort but this time during the daytime on 22 August. Again, the brunt was taken up by du Roi but with a less happy result. Upon being compelled to fall back, some 100 of the regiment's number were cut off. At this point, the rest of the regiment turned back into the maelstrom to re-engage and liberate their comrades. The cost to du Roi of the entire action was a further 53 dead and 163 wounded, including no less than 25 company-grade officers. Choiseul was not among them but accounts suggest he acquitted himself with distinction. A tough time for his family, though, as "All Europe had its eyes on Prague" in Voltaire's phrase, watching the slow progress of its fate, Choiseul's own father was the diplomatic envoy of the Austrian commander, Grand Duke Francis of Tuscany (formerly of Lorraine), to Versailles, a court with whom a state of war still did not technically exist. In fact, the elder man was virtually the sole source of information back to Paris on the state of de Broglie's force while being for the latter one of the few links to the state of things in the outside world. And then, remarkably, one morning in mid-September, the Austrians were gone. They were reacting to the movements of a French army coming in relief. A loose cordon was still maintained around Prague with cavalry and light forces. By now, it will come as no surprise to hear that Marshal de Broglie chose to remain inactive, awaiting events. But not much occurred except for the accelerating degradation of the French forces in Prague. The relieving Army of Westphalia was turned back and although coming within sixty miles of the Army of Bohemia in its fortress prison, no attempt to link up or break out was made by the latter. In mid-October, Marshal de Broglie was ordered out of Prague by Versailles in order to take up command of the Army of Westphalia. Yet, after having spent months describing in detail what he should do if once given charge of the relieving force, when actually confirmed in command he promptly made winter camp. This should have been the end. But then was played out before Choiseul's eyes a transformation - events as characterized by foresighted intelligence and industry as the previous year's campaign had been by folly and indolence. The breakout of the French forces from Prague under the command of Marshal Belle-Isle is truly one of the great sagas of world military history. It was certainly that Marshal's fmest hour. The entire process was characterized by cunning deception, both strategic (couriers from Paris conveying phonied-up orders to hold in Prague during the winter were "captured" by Austrian pickets) and tactical (foraging parties of cavalry were sent out to habituate enemy vedettes to their presence), far-sided logistical preparation (a portion of the cavalry was remounted by scrounging and there was no lack of supply or transportation during the breakout), skilled sacrifice (a 4,000 man force was left under M. de Chevert [18] and ordered to deceive the besiegers as to the size of the remaining garrison -- their pugnacity later earned them the right to march out under the honors of war rather than into captivity), operational innovation (the column was divided into five mutually supporting but self-contained combinedarms teams), masterful anticipation and misdirection of the enemy (on at least two occasions when each of both possible routes were blocked and bridges blown by the enemy, the French followed a third path by moving cross-country over previously scouted but hitherto unmapped trails), and draconian discipline (no fires were allowed for the first several nights' march). The lack of hitch or betrayal would have been impossible in the blabber-mouthed 19'h century.
There was much hardship along the way. The weather conditions, during what the climatologists of a later century would refer to as the tail end of the "Little Ice Age" (approximately 1400-1800), were appalling. 1,500 men died and many were injured by frostbite. Regiment du Roi marched in the middle of the van of the French battlegroups. Yet, ten days after starting out, despite attacks by Austrian regular and light horse and the gathering in of the investing forces to halt Belle-Isle, the Marshal had won free and saved the remnant of his army. The Queen of Hungary, Maria-Theresa, had lost her hostage trump card.
Fifty thousand troops of the most senior regiments on the French establishment had gone into Bohemia. A scarce fourteen thousand came back out. Choiseul was lucky to be alive. He had certainly learned much, both good and ill, of war. He was to learn yet more.
Young Choiseul at War Etienne-Francois de Stainville 1719-1783
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