Foch the Man - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Foch the Man Part 3 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Practically all the farmers of the region raised these fine, fleet animals. There was a great stud-farm on the outskirts of town, and the business of breeding mounts for France's soldiers was one of the first that little Ferdinand Foch heard a great deal about.
He learned to ride, as a matter of course, when he was very young. And all his life he has been an ardent and intrepid horseman.
A community devoted to the raising of fine saddle horses is all but certain to be a community devotedly fond of horse racing.
Love of racing is almost a universal trait in France; and in Tarbes it was a feature of the town life in which business went hand-in-hand with pleasure.
In an old French book published before Ferdinand Foch was born, I have found the following description of the crowds which flocked into Tarbes on the days of the horse markets and races:
"On these days all the streets and public squares are flooded with streams of curious people come from all corners of the Pyrenees and exhibiting in their infinite variety of type and costume all the races of the southern provinces and the mountains.
"There one sees the folk of Provence, irascible, hot-headed, of vigorous proportions and l.u.s.ty voice, pa.s.sionately declaiming about something or other, in the midst of small groups of listeners.
"There are men of the Basque province--small, muscular and proud, agile of movement and with bodies beautifully trained; plain of speech and childlike in deed.
"There are the men of the Bearnais, mostly from towns of size and circ.u.mstance--educated men, of self-command, tempering the southern warmth which burns in their eyes by the calm intelligence born of experience in life and also by a natural languor like that of their Spanish neighbors.
"There are the old Catalonians, whose features are of savage strength under the thick brush of white hair falling about their leather-colored faces; the men of Navarre, with braided hair and other evidences of primitiveness--vigorous of build and handsome of feature, but withal a little subnormal in expression.
"Then, in the midst of all these characteristic types, moving about in a pell-mell fas.h.i.+on, making a constantly changing mosaic of vivid hues, there are the inhabitants of the innumerable valleys around Tarbes itself, each of them with its own peculiarities of costume, manners, speech, which make them easily distinguishable one from another."
It was a remarkable crowd for a little boy to wander in.
If Ferdinand Foch had been destined to be a painter or a writer, the impressions made upon his childish mind by that medley of strange folk might have been pa.s.sed on to us long ago on brilliant canvas or on glowing page.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Ferdinand Foch (center) as a Schoolboy.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: The School in Tarbes Where Foch Prepared for the Military Academy.]
But that was not the way it served him.
I want you who are interested to comprehend Ferdinand Foch, to think of those old horsefairs and race meets of his Gascony childhood, and the crowds of strange types they brought to Tarbes, when we come to the great days of his life that began in 1914--the days when his comprehension of many types of men, his ability to "get on with" them and harmonize them with one another, meant almost as much to the world as his military genius.
Tarbes had suffered so much in civil and religious wars, for many centuries, that not many of her ancient buildings were left. The old castle, with its a.s.sociations with the Black Prince and other renowned warriors, was a ramshackle prison in Ferdinand Foch's youth. The old palace of the bishops was used as the prefecture, where Ferdinand's father had his office.
There were two old churches, much restored and of no great beauty, but very dear to the people of Tarbes nevertheless.
Ferdinand and his brothers and sister were very piously reared, and at an early age learned to love the church and to seek it for exaltation and consolation.
Later on in these chapters we shall see that phase of a little French boy's training in its due relation to a marechal of France, directing the greatest army the world has ever seen.
The college of Tarbes, where Ferdinand began his school days, was in a venerable building over whose portal there was, in Latin, an inscription recording the builder's prayer:
"May this house remain standing until the ant has drunk all the waves of the sea and the tortoise has crawled round the world."
Ferdinand was a hard student, serious beyond his years, but not conspicuous except for his earnestness and diligence.
When he was twelve years old, his fervor for Napoleon led him to read Thiers' "History of the Consulate and the Empire." And about this time his professor of mathematics remarked of him that "he has the stuff of a polytechnician."
The vacations of the Foch children were pa.s.sed at the home of their paternal grandparents in Valentine, a large village about two miles from the town of St. Gaudens in the foothills of the Pyrenees. There they had the country pleasures of children of good circ.u.mstances, in a big, substantial house and a vicinity rich in tranquil beauty and outdoor opportunities. And there, as in the children's own home at Tarbes, one was ashamed not to be a very excellent child, and, so, worthy to be descended from a chevalier of the great Napoleon.
In the mid-sixties the family moved from Tarbes to Rodez--almost two hundred miles northeast of their old locality in which both parents had been born and where their ancestors had long lived.
It was quite an uprooting--due to the father's appointment as paymaster of the treasury at Rodez--and took the Foch family into an atmosphere very different from that of their old Gascon home, but one which also helped to vivify that history which was Ferdinand's pa.s.sion.
There Ferdinand continued his studies, as also at Saint-etienne, near Lyons, whither the family moved in 1867 when the father was appointed tax collector there.
And in 1869 he was sent to Metz, to the Jesuit College of Saint Clement, to which students flocked from all parts of Europe.
He had been there a year and had been given, by unanimous vote of his fellow students, the grand prize for scholarly qualities, when the Franco-Prussian war began.
Immediately Ferdinand Foch enlisted for the duration of the war.
III
A YOUNG SOLDIER OF A LOST CAUSE
There is nothing to record of Ferdinand Foch's first soldiering except that from the depot of the Fourth Regiment of Infantry, in his home city of Saint-etienne, he was sent to Chalon-sur-Saone, and there was discharged in January, 1871, after the capitulation of Paris.
He did not distinguish himself in any way. He was just one of a mult.i.tude of youths who rushed to the colors when France called, and did what they could in a time of sad confusion, when a weak government had paralyzed the effectiveness of the army--of the nation!
Whatever blows Ferdinand Foch struck in 1870 were without weight in helping to avert France's catastrophe. But he was like hundreds of thousands of other young Frenchmen similarly powerless in this: In the anguish he suffered because of what he could not do to save France from humiliation were laid the foundations of all that he has contributed to the glory of new France.
At the time when his Fall term should have been beginning at Saint Clement's College, Metz was under siege by the German army, and its garrison and inhabitants were suffering horribly from hunger and disease; Paris was surrounded; the German headquarters were at Versailles; and the imperial standards so dear to young Foch because of the great Napoleon were forever lowered when the white flag was hoisted at Sedan and an Emperor with a whole army pa.s.sed into captivity.
How much the young soldier-student of the Saone comprehended then of the needlessness of the shame and surrender of those inglorious days we do not know. He cannot have been sufficiently versed in military understanding to realize how much of the defeat France suffered was due to her failure to fight on, at this juncture and that, when a stiffer resistance would have turned the course of events.
But if he did not know then, he certainly knew later. And as soon as he got where he could impress his convictions upon other soldiers of the new France he began training them in his great maxim: "A battle is lost when you admit defeat."
What his devotion to Saint Clement's College was we may know from the fact of his return there to resume his interrupted studies under the same teachers, but in sadly different circ.u.mstances.
He found German troops quartered in parts of the college, and as he went to and from his cla.s.ses the young man who had just laid off the uniform of a French soldier was obliged to pa.s.s and repa.s.s men of the victorious army of occupation.
The memory of his shame and suffering on those occasions has never faded. How much France and her allies owe to it we shall never be able to estimate.
For the effect on Foch was one of the first acid tests in which were revealed the quality of his mind and soul. Instead of offering himself a prey to sullen anger and resentment, or of flaring into fury when one time for fury was past and another had not yet come, he used his sorrow as a goad to study, and bent his energies to the discovery of why France had failed and why Prussia had won. His a.n.a.lysis of those reasons, and his application of what that a.n.a.lysis taught him, is what has put him where he is to-day--and _us_ where _we_ are!
From Metz, Foch went to Nancy to take his examination for the Polytechnic at Paris.
Just why this should have been deemed necessary I have not seen explained. But it was, like a good many other things of apparent inconsequence in this young man's life, destined to leave in him an impress which had much to do with what he was to perform.
I have seldom, if ever, studied a life in which events "link up" so marvelously and the present is so remarkably an extension of the past.
Nancy had been chosen by General Manteuffel, commander of the First German Army Corps, as headquarters, pending the withdrawal of the victors on the payment of the last sou in the billion-dollar indemnity they exacted of France along with the ceding of Alsace-Lorraine. (For three years France had to endure the insolent victors upon her soil.)
And with the fine feeling and magnanimity in which the German was then as now peculiarly gifted General Manteuffel delighted in ordering his military bands to play the "Retreat"--to taunt the sad inhabitants with this reminder of their army's shame.