French Foreign Legion

by Douglas Porch

  Constantine does not appear to have been the first time that this new Legion had been noticed after an exceptional combat performance. Saint-Arnaud wrote to his brother in May 1837 that a recently completed expedition “... has brought us [the Legion] a great advantage ... that of making ourselves better known. On the days of the 29th and the 30th [April], the Legion gloriously took its place in the ranks of the army. We received our baptism of fire, and all the regiments who seemed to distance themselves from our foreignness, today come up and fraternize.”27 One of the great puzzles of the Legion, however, one of the apparent contradictions that has made the Legion so inexplicable to many, French commanders not the least, is how a force capable of putting on so formidable a performance in battle could display such deplorable garrison manners. The problem for the historian is how to reconcile the obvious bravery of the Legion under fire with inspection reports of the period, most of which were so unfavorable that they led many to wonder if the Legion were worth preserving at all.

  As SAINT-ARNAUD SUGGESTED, the foreignness of the Legion was certainly an impediment to its acceptance as a credible fighting unit by the French high command, especially in an era when the French regarded themselves as Europe's best soldiers. As has been seen, the Legion as constituted in 1831 was seen basically as a temporary expedient, a short-term response to a refugee crisis. Shoved off to Spain, the experiment was believed to be at an end. However, the refugees continued to arrive, while Algiers required troops, so the experiment gained a new lease on life almost as soon as it was abandoned. The end of the Carlist War in Spain in 1840 and the arrival of large numbers of refugees over the Pyrenees again reinforced the Legion. French officers might not be expected to bestow anything more than grudging respect upon this corps of mercenaries: “The elements which make up the Foreign Legion are such that one cannot hope that the esprit de corps is as uniform there as in a French corps,” the Legion's inspector, Lieutenant General Count Alphonse d'Hautpoul, declared in 1841. “Nevertheless, the 1st Regiment has been in existence for several years. It has had several honorable actions of which the memory flatters the corps and have given birth to a love of the flag among officers and NCOs.”28

  D'Hautpoul's observations, while perhaps patronizing, cannot be discounted as mere prejudice or xenophobia, for the evidence suggests that the Legion in this period had serious discipline problems. This was in part a temporary phenomenon that resulted from the rapid expansion of the Legion to six battalions. Many of the new recruits were Carlist refugees, rustic and unruly recruits who, grouped in separate units, proved difficult to control, especially by cadres who were often hastily assembled from the castoffs of other units.29 Yet one of the difficulties for the historian is to reconcile many generally favorable comments on the discipline and esprit de corps in the Legion recorded by many of the inspecting generals with the long list of problems that they then cite.

  All soldiers might on occasion be expected to display high spirits, even unruliness, in barracks. But it was clear that Legion behavior, together with that of the penal Bataillons d'Afrique, was often noteworthy: “Discipline must be severe and prompt as infractions are numerous and serious,” d'Hautpoul continued. “Drunkenness, selling equipment, acts of insubordination, desertion to the enemy, these are the principal faults which one recognizes among soldiers of the Legion.”30 In fact, the problems enumerated by d'Hautpoul were all of a piece. From its earliest days, observers had noted the Legion's weakness for alcohol: “The excesses of drink are more frequent in the Legion than in French regiments,” Brigadier General Dampierre observed in his November 1838 inspection.31 In the previous year, General Joseph Rullière had attributed the drunkenness of the Legion to excessively strict discipline that “by brutalizing them produces a sort of inertia.” Then they would sell pieces of their equipment or uniforms to get money for drink, “on the pretext that this is the only way to get out of the barracks and escape a discipline which is too rough.”32 And, of course, once in the bars and wine shops that abounded in Algeria they could fall victim to unscrupulous merchants who would encourage them to drink more than they could possibly afford and then connive with a civilian “client” who would offer to buy parts of their uniforms to extricate them from their embarrassment. As a result, it was not an uncommon sight in the 1830s to see groups of legionnaires returning to barracks without shoes, shirts or even trousers, but always wearing their high shakos, for this piece of equipment found no buyers on the outside.33 It is for this reason that the inspector of the 1st Regiment in 1843 recommended a closer “surveillance in their conduct out of barracks.”34

  The extent of the insubordination mentioned by d'Hautpoul is more difficult to assess, although inspectors’ comments could reasonably lead one to believe that the Legion existed virtually on the brink of mutiny. Brigadier General Dampierre reported in November 1838 that the officers were trying to “banish in the Foreign Legion the serious infractions which darken the reputation of this corps.”35 In October 1840, Lieutenant General Jean-Paul Schramm reported that disobeying NCOs was a common cause of punishment,36 while in November 1845, the future Marshal of France Jacques César Randon congratulated the colonel of the 2nd Regiment on the fact that only sixty-five legionnaires had been condemned to “severe penalties” in that year, substantially down from previous years.37

  Why was discipline such a terrible problem for the Legion? Unlike the situation only fifty years later, when memoirs of legionnaires produced a minor boom in the publishing industry, very few legionnaires in the 1830s and 1840s took the trouble to record their years of service, a poor record of literary output explained in part by the fact that less than half of them could read and write.38 Therefore, unlike the years before World War I when the Legion again passed through a serious discipline crisis, we seldom hear their side of the story, not the least in inspection reports because, according to Clemens Lamping, “The whole affair is ... a mere formality. The two gentlemen walk through the ranks, look at reports, and ask here and there a soldier whether he has any complaints to make: after which they get into their carriage, complimenting the Commander in the most flattering terms, on the admirable condition of his regiment. Reclamations made by the soldiers are satisfied in the most summary manner by arrest for groundless complaints. There is unfortunately often cause enough for complaint in all the regiments, but the means of appeal are so complicated that a soldier has the greatest difficulty in making his grievance known. Any commissioned or non-commissioned officer who ventured to assist him would never be forgiven, and must give up all hopes of advancement as long as he lives. Nothing is so odious to the French as a réclameur [complainer].”39

  What has survived are the viewpoints of officers, too many of whom, unfortunately, tended to regard the legionnaires as scum unworthy of humanitarian treatment. The future Marshal Francois Certain Canrobert, who in 1840 helped to organize the battalion of legionnaires formed among Carlist refugees, condemned “These soldiers of the Foreign Legion, the rejects of the armies of Europe, often assassins and thieves, deserters without scruple who tomorrow become the worst enemies of yesterday's comrades.”40 The future Marshal of France and President of the Third Republic, Patrice MacMahon, recorded that Legion colonel de Sénilhes was convinced that his legionnaires could be kept in line only with “the menace of the cell and of prison.”41 Brigadier General Thierry, who inspected the 1st Regiment in 1844, thought that even this was not enough: “The police and the discipline are severe,” he reported. “But the means of repression spelled out in the regulations are insufficient for the type of man who makes up this corps.”42 In this, he simply echoed the view of Lieutenant General François-Marie-Casimir de Négrier, who reported in 1842 that “The inspection of the punishment records proves that there are a large number of NCOs and soldiers upon whom the ordinary disciplinary sanctions no longer have any effect.”43

  Perhaps it is this view, apparently widespread among Legion officers, that such extraordinary men required extraordinary punish
ments that caused some of them to resort to excessive brutality. Even Saint-Arnaud, whose concern for his men is obvious in his letters and whose affection for them apparently was reciprocated, was guilty of running his saber through the chest of a Spanish legionnaire who was “murmuring and swearing in the ranks.”44 When Lieutenant Colonel Patrice MacMahon's baggage disappeared on campaign, a zealous captain dropped the suspect, a Legion private, down a well, suspended only by ropes tied to two fingers: “After several immersions, the legionnaire, half drowned, finally admitted where he had hidden the remainder of the loot,” MacMahon remembered.45

  Such excessive measures did not pass entirely without comment in the army. In 1842, even the war minister, Marshal Soult, wrote to the governor-general of Algeria, General Thomas Bugeaud, to complain of excessive punishments in the discipline sections of the Foreign Legion, “... of a rigorous disciplinary regime, which submits them to the privations of insufficient food, hard and often unjust corporal punishments. This magistrate adds that even taking into account the exaggerated nature of these complaints, the court martial, without going beyond the bounds imposed upon them by a wise and discreet reserve, is obliged to recognize through the depositions even of the NCOs who are charged with the surveillance of the discipline section, that bread and water, the whip and the cane are the means employed to correct insubordination and resistance among the disciplinary soldiers. The result is a system of repression which is altogether alien to our French values.” So shocked were the military judges by revelations of conditions within the Legion discipline section that they refused to condemn soldiers who had escaped from it for desertion.46

  Such treatment was not only inhumane, it also undermined military efficiency: “The officers of the Bataillons d'Afrique, the discipline companies and of the Foreign Legion all think that if they were not armed with exceptional powers, they would cease to be obeyed and would be assassinated by their soldiers,” wrote a French visitor to Algeria in the 1840s. “We understand perfectly the requirements of this discipline, in the middle of such heterogeneous and dangerous elements as those which make up certain regiments, and in a country where war is continuous. We know that normal discipline would be inadequate in such conditions; that one requires there, as in the navy, special repressive measures, and an iron discipline must keep insubordination in check. But, if it is true that things have reached the point to which we have alluded [a reference to severe punishments], is it not evident that discipline would be maintained in the face of the rights of humanity, at the expense of the dignity and the morals of the army? Tortures like those which one inflicts demoralize the soldier, and develop in him deplorable habits which he acquires from this type of half-savage war which one must make in this country.”47

  It is certainly possible, likely in fact, that the Legion contained a number of men who were absolutely impervious to discipline, even of the most rigorous sort. However, it is equally possible that officers and NCOs overreacted to the incorrigible behavior of a few legionnaires by making an excessive and even arbitrary discipline the rule for the entire corps, which was perceived by the rank and file as an injustice. In other words, the strict, even harsh discipline that characterized the Legion in this period actually produced more discipline problems than it cured. And the most serious manifestations of those discipline problems were mutiny and desertion.

  Mutiny, or even collective indiscipline, has not been a frequent occurrence in the history of the Legion. However, to occur, it required at least one essential prerequisite—a concentration of men of one nationality. In October 1840, Lieutenant General Schramm repeated the rule laid down by Bernelle five years earlier: “The mixing of men of all nations in the same company prevents national coteries, and serves to create emulation among the men in combat or on marches,” he wrote.48 It was wise advice, which had been ignored in March of that year with disastrous results.

  In 1839, the exodus of the defeated Spanish Carlists toward France began. Most swarmed on Perpignan in southern France, where a vast refugee camp had been set up to accommodate them on the garrison drill field. There the government fell back upon the by now familiar expedient of offering enlistment in the Foreign Legion as a means of clearing France of some of these refugees while at the same time providing soldiers for Algeria. A 4th Battalion of the Foreign Legion was officially organized at Pau from these men on October 1, 1839, and its three companies arrived in Algiers in March 1840. The five other companies necessary to bring the battalion to full strength were subsequently organized in Algiers. A 5th Battalion was created at Perpignan on August 28, 1840, and by mid-September it numbered almost six hundred men. Canrobert, who helped to organize the 5th Battalion, believed that many of his men were common criminals, although it is possible that the brutal character of the mountain war they had been fighting for five or six years meant that they simply behaved that way. At the same time, he acknowledged their previous service: “Many were wounded,” he wrote, “several badly.” Among them was a deserter from the old Foreign Legion in Spain who acted as an interpreter so that training could begin. “These new soldiers, brigands or smugglers, gave me some tough times,” Canrobert remembered. “I had to watch them closely. Every day at muster, at least three sorts of crimes committed by one of them was brought to my attention: a theft, a rape or a murder. But I also had some good men ...”49

  These Carlist battalions proved to be unhappy experiments. In March 1840, thirty Spaniards of the 4th Battalion plotted to murder all of their officers save three and desert to the Arabs. In the end, only one lieutenant was wounded in the escape. Eight of the mutineers were captured and shot. However, the rebellion was much discussed in the Armée d'Afrique, where it was taken as proof that the Legion was not to be trusted. Even Saint-Arnaud, who should have known better, as he was charged with writing the report (“I gave a dramatic turn to the events which pleased everyone”), was mortified: “What confidence can we have in such men?” he wrote to his brother. “We no longer have the enemy to fear, but our own men who assassinate us in the course of duty, who murder our honor by abandoning a post which was confided to us.... I am deeply grieved ...” More to the point, he believed the reputation of the Legion to be irreparably damaged. “The blow, which caught me by surprise, is crushing because I can foresee all the consequences. The Legion is compromised. The fruits of our combats, our watches, our fatigues, perhaps annihilated. Four years of pain, of abnegation and of devotion struck off the calendar of our future. Despite this, I am facing up to the storm. I raise the morale of others. I give strict orders. I take terrible measures, but it is necessary [this is when he stabbed the muttering Spaniard].... I do not fear for myself.... But this lost prestige, this handsome reputation of the Legion tarnished by a hundred miserable men. That is what makes me cry like a baby.”50

  While Saint-Arnaud admitted subsequently that the incident in the 4th Battalion blew over fairly rapidly, discipline in the 5th Battalion also appeared to be shaky. “The hope that I placed in the Spanish battalion has unfortunately not been realized,” the battalion commander, Major de Lioux, wrote on November 29, 1840. “Hardly had they arrived [in North Africa], than 44 men went over to the enemy with arms and baggage. An officer also disappeared. He left with the funds of the company which he commanded. The Marshal [Valée] immediately ordered the departure of the battalion for Bone.” The colonel of the 53rd Infantry Regiment refused to allow the Spanish legionnaires to stand guard duty and considered disarming them. “I kept them for two days as prisoners in my camp,” he reported. “Fortunately, they did not take it into their heads to revolt.”51

  This mutiny of 1840 serves to point up the second problem of the Legion—desertion. The mutiny and mass desertion in the Spanish battalions were certainly the result of a combination of exceptional circumstances that included national homogeneity and the fact that they had all been recruited from a defeated army that had its own way of doing things. As Canrobert suggested, they may also have been from the start an exceptionall
y bad lot, and they had been in the Legion for too short a time (only a matter of weeks) to have absorbed any regimental loyalty. Yet desertion was hardly a new phenomenon in the Legion. On the contrary, inspecting generals had complained since 1831 that desertion and the Legion were inseparable, and as has been seen, desertion from the Legion in Spain became a serious problem after the summer of 1836. The problem was inherited in full measure by the new Legion organizing at Pau, which lost 14.6 percent of its strength to desertion in 1836. According to the inspecting general, the new corps “conserves a tendency to desertion, and the selling of uniforms to get money to buy disguises so they can better avoid the police. The nearness to the frontier, the provocations of Spanish agents have done much to contribute to this state of affairs.”52 Statistics for the period show that desertion posed a significant problem for the Legion, but not a catastrophic one:53

  Year Number of Deserters Strength Percentage

  1836 105 719 14.6

  1837 226 2,095 10.8

  1838 (Nov) 221 2,743 8.0

  1839 (Oct) 232 2,850 8.1

  1840 (Oct) 283 4,150 6.8

  1841* 292 2,779 10.5

  1842 (Nov) 1st reg. 291 2,436 11.9

  1843 (Nov) 1st reg. 292 2,482 11.8

  1844 (Nov) 1st reg. 287 2,764 10.4

  (Sept) 2nd reg. 151 2,726 5.5

  1845 (Sept) 1st reg. 199 3,129 6.3

  (Nov) 2nd reg. 184 3,285 5.6

  * 1841 figures taken from January 1842 report.

  Three points should be made about these figures. First, it is not clear if they are complete. The Legion was fragmented into many small garrisons, and inspecting generals may not have had information on all of them. Second, these figures may not represent the real extent of attempted desertions. Regulations required a soldier to be absent for six days before he was listed as a deserter. And in Algeria, it might be very difficult for a deserter to avoid detection for a week. Third, while these figures might not have shocked the Duke of Wellington, 11.1 percent of whose infantry regularly took “French leave” in this period,54 it did indeed scandalize French officers unused to watching substantial numbers of their troops filer à l'anglaise. For instance, the 2nd Light Infantry Regiment, which fought beside the Legion at Constantine, rarely counted more than three desertions a year between their arrival in Algeria in 1835 and their departure for France in 1841. In 1837, the year of Constantine, no soldiers deserted. The following year, only one soldier deserted, no soldiers were sent to discipline companies and only two corporals were broken for drunkenness. In 1839, the regiment had a clean slate in Algeria, although there were desertions from the regimental depot in France, presumably among new conscripts.55 Even the zouaves, who were founded at the same time as the Legion and had many organizational problems as it was gradually transformed from a native regiment to one made up exclusively of Frenchmen, recorded a maximum desertion rate of 8 percent in 1838. However, by 1839 its rate had fallen to 2 percent and remained infinitesimal after that.56