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Maunoury's relief, and a fierce attack was made on Kluck's flank at the Ourcq. The French front in the southeast, feeling the pressure of the Germans weakening, not only "stiffened," but through the stroke delivered by Foch rolled the Germans back, and the later phase of the battle, which turned their retreat into a rout, was fought. Paris had been saved, but Kluck's army escaped.

During the first months of the war Gallieni, as the Military Governor of Paris, not only reconstructed the fortifications and prepared defenses for the city from aviation attacks, but as the city became a great clearing-house for wounded, troops, and supplies,. it became his duty to facilitate all things pertaining to movements. In November, 1915, when the French Cabinet was reconstructed Gallieni became Minister of War, succeeding M. Millerand. Here his ability as an organizer and administrator was again shown. In February he took over the direction of the Department of Aviation, but shortly afterward was taken ill and compelled to resign on March 16. After that he remained ill in the Military Hospital at Versailles, and there he died.

Among many dramatic episodes in Gallieni's life was his defense in 1871, with Commandant Lambert, of the house called "Les Dernières Cartouches"-the Last Cartridges-which formed the subject of one of De Neuville's famous paintings. Gallieni was born, so to speak, with a knapsack in his cradle. He was

a child of the Army, his father being an officer, and was sent to a school on a military foundation. Later he passed out of St. Cyr to a commission in the Army just as the Empire had become involved in war with Germany. The date of his appointment was the fatal July 15, 1870. He fought with General Faidherbe in one or two engagements in which the Colonial Infantry distinguished itself. Later, Faidherbe became his chief in the Sudan, and he grew to be remarkably like his distinguished chief in ways of thought and action. In Senegal and on the Niger he was known as a great colonial soldier and administrator. In Madagascar he conquered by persuasion as well as by force of arms. There was never a greater humanitarian engaged in the business of war. Not even Joffre, whom he resembled closely in origin and attainments, excelled him in a fine quality of heart allied to a fine quality of head. Like the Commander-in-Chief he was a southerner, having been born in a small town in the Pyrenees, and so in origin resembled Joffre, Foch, Pau, Castelnau, and Pétain. Like Joffre, Gallieni was a silent man. Summers spent in the Sudan and on the high plains of Madagascar sat lightly on him. Behind a "pince-nez" bridging a pointed nose in a rather gaunt

face, he had a cold and penetrating eye. One deciphered energy

in those features.

Gallieni's figure, tall and slim, was quite destitute of that corpulence which defined Joffre. He was "elegant," as the French say. A touch of the courtly characterized his every gesture. He spoke the language of the salon, liked flowers and poetry, looked discriminatingly at pictures through eye-glasses set gracefully upon. a prominent nose. His eyes were blue, but with a suggestion of green, his voice ingratiating. His manners made one see why the French have so just a reputation for politeness. His was cool politeness, not curt, and yet suggested the man who was master of himself and others. Never was he seen unkempt, bedraggled, or ungroomed. His physical endurance was simply incompatible with the whiteness of his hair, the paleness of his facewhich tropical suns had failed to tan-and the delicacy of his frame. He wore a uniform like a beau, acting, talking, and seeming the courtier. He looked like a carpet commander such as graced the palace of the "Sun King" on days of grand balls and diplomatic receptions.

The similarity between the career of Kitchener and that of Gallieni, both of whom rendered great services early in the war and died within a few weeks of each other, was often commented on. Each found himself an officer at an early age, struggling along ill-defined frontiers in Africa, coming into collision with Mohammedan despots, asserting a dubious sovereignty over uncharted oases, ascending mysterious rivers, attacking interior capitals against tremendous odds. Each passed in due time from Africa to Asia, but Kitchener emerged first in a blaze of glory when discovery of him by Lord Cromer marked him as an "arrival." Gallieni did not come into his own until he went to Tonkin. In the prime of life he came into collision with the Chinese, and acquired from the Chinese that "mandarin manner" which became so marked in his gestures and deportment, an ineffable ease of bearing in trying situations which would have left him unruffled when the house was afire.

Nothing could have been more characteristic of him than his refusal to go to Madagascar, unless he could be an absolute despot over the whole island. He made Madagascar a French "possession," until the name Gallieni became a household word among the French in that island. Functionaries from the Colonial Office went out to investigate him, only to return with enthusiasm for his personality. Characteristic of him was the enthusiasm he imparted to subordinates. In this respect he was a contrast to Kitchener who, on the whole, was not popular with the men with

whom he had to work. Gallieni was of the accessible, smiling, indulgent type, ready enough to forward anyone's ambition, taking the day's work as an adventure. He was charming to the young and indulgent to the inexperienced. Kitchener buried himself in a back room, gave orders by indirection, and dined in solitary state.

Gallieni was fond of the theater, graceful as a dancer, read poetry, was swift and resourceful, and a dominating figure at a council of war, partly because of his "charm," also because of the subtlety and plausibility he showed in defending propositions. He thought Joffre too cautious. "You ought to be in Madagascar, General," said the stout commander to the thin one in 1915, after a discussion of some new conception he had outlined as the War Minister. "No, General," said Gallieni smilingly, "by this time I ought to be in Berlin." He had a pretty little home at La Gabelle, in a rolling French valley near Saint Raphael, where domestic bereavement had not escaped him. Distinguished as was his career, the financial results had been inadequate and he died poor. With him there passed away a fine servant of France whose career embraced three great periods of French history-the tragic moment of defeat in 1870, the Colonial renaissance, and the World War. His part in the war of 1870 was modest, but in the sorrows of that tragedy he acquired some of the patriotic fire from which rose into action the France of 1914. He showed the faith that was in him in the long years of service that he gave for building up and consolidating the French Colonial Empire in Africa.12

THE GERMAN CROWN PRINCE

Perhaps the most unattractive royal figure in Europe when the war began was the German Crown Prince, then thirty-two years old, his best-known intellectual accomplishment being a profound admiration for Napoleon. He believed thoroughly in rule by divine right for himself as well as for Napoleon. He once made a dramatic speech before the Reichstag, dissenting from a proposal by the Chancellor that a peaceful settlement could be made with France about Morocco. This at once made him a leader of the war-seeking element and incidentally got him into friction with his father. He was tall, slim, and impulsive, his full name Frederick-William-Victor-August-Ernst. Queen Victoria was not only his great-grandmother, but his godmother. He had completed a course of instruction at Ploen, and like his father and

12 Compiled from an article by Alexander Harvey in Current Opinion, The Times (London) and from Associated Press correspondence.

grandfather, the Emperor Frederick, had studied at Bonn. Completing university studies in 1903, he entered upon a course of travel in many lands, and then, in order to get training for future responsibilities, was sent to the office of the Potsdam local administration, to the Prussian Ministry of the Interior, to the Admiralty, and to the Foreign Office. In 1905 he married the Duchess Cecelia of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. The Kaiser was quoted as having once said of him, "Well, William is no diplomat, I will admit; but I believe the fellow has marrow in his bones. will turn out to be our Moltke yet."

He

The adage that no man is a hero to his valet was strikingly proved in the case of Friedrich Wilhelm of the House of Hohenzollern. After he fled to Holland, in November, 1918, to be interned there on a lonely island, as Napoleon had been on another island, the impressions of one Felix, a former servitor of his, were given in an interview with Edgar M. Moore, who also had known him from having played before him in Berlin as a professional banjoist. "If any one had formed a regiment for him in platoons," said Mr. Moore, "he couldn't by his own commands have done so much as march it down a perfectly straight street, let alone halting or turning it, had he found a stone wall at the end. He was railroaded through Bonn and the military colleges. He hated a uniform and wouldn't have one on when he could avoid it. What he liked best as to clothes was to lounge in English tweeds. At a first meeting you'd have taken him-his English was perfect, absolutely clean of accent-for an English squire from the countryside. He was what Americans used to call an Anglomaniac. He never dreamed of posing as a German warrior of blood and iron; he preferred to ape the English 'Johnny,' the kind of chap who used to hang around the stagedoor of the Gaiety Theatre. When in Berlin you could always find him at night in one of two or three of the most expensive night-life cafés. He never ate very much for fear of losing his slim waist and I never knew of his taking enough to make him drunk. He had a favorite brand of whisky-an English brand, of course.

"After you had known him a while," Mr. Moore went on with his report of what the servitor had told him, "you would have realized that his mind was the mind of a rather dull boy of fourteen. I don't mean just mere silliness. I mean that this kind of thinking was as far as he could go. His ego, his vanity, was exactly of that boyish kind. He was like a bragging kid in the recess-yard. Felix, the valet, told me that what he liked to read was Nick Carter's books in German translations. You could buy

[graphic]

THE FORMER CROWN PRINCE WITH HIS DUTCH PLAYMATES

He is engaged in his familiar pastime of romping with Dutch children, accompanied by an aide or guardian, wearing sabots and the clothes of a Dutch fisherman

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