The Chasseurs Britanniques—Mongrels, Miscreants, or the first Free French? As part of my research for THE CHASE I learned about that unique group of fighting men, the Chasseurs Britanniques. I've described their appearance in the novel, and for those interested in their uniform I suggest looking at Émigré and Foreign Troops in British Service 180315, René Chartrand and Patrice Courcelle, Osprey, 2000. Below is a little background, in the form of an article I wrote in 2005 for the British reenactment magazine, Skirmish.
Formed from the rump of the French royalist Armée de Condé in 1801, the Chasseurs Britanniques had a chequered history that is best known today because of the part the Chasseurs played in the Peninsular War. Their record has been little studied by historians and was brushed over by contemporaries, one of whom, Colonel Harry Smith, left us the famous comment: ‘that mongrel regiment'. Was it their ambiguous beginnings that marked the Chasseurs Britanniques as suspect, or did the British to some extent make scapegoats of these renegade Frenchmen within their forces?
In 1800 the forces of the Armée de Condé, which had been serving with the Russians, received orders to join the British. They were sidelined in the ensuing battles against Napoleon, and after the defeat of the Austrians at Hohenlinden were ordered to hand over their horses, disband, and prepare to serve Britain in the Mediterranean (destinations Italy and Egypt). Many, particularly the dragoons, found this humiliating and promptly rejoined the French under Bonaparte—the first ‘desertion' from the new corps. Hundreds more requested dismissal, and the remainder only, some 600, were formed into the Chasseurs Britanniques, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Charles le Forestier. In 1803 they were posted to the Isle of Wight and the Channel Islands, where they were reinforced by émigré officers and units. Their character and philosophy at the time was monarchist and reactionary: their aim was the defeat of Napoleon Bonaparte and the restoration of the Bourbons to the French throne. Their officers were mainly emigrés and the sons of emigrés, and under their leadership in Egypt the Chasseurs earned the commendation of General Fox, who remarked on their ‘unimpeachable fidelity' during the campaign of 1807.
In the autumn of 1810 the Chasseurs, now twelve companies and almost 2,000 men—by no means all French by this time—were ordered from Sicily to the Peninsula, where as part of the 7th Division they saw the war through, their ranks swelled from time to time by captured French who preferred service with the British to dismal months or years as prisoners of war. On balance their conduct was creditable, especially at Fuentes de Oñoro (1811), Vitoria and Sorauren (1813), but suspicion dogged them—Wellington gave standing orders that they were never to be entrusted with the outposts, a clear caution against turncoats—and there were notorious lapses in discipline, such as the incident at Badajoz where the Chasseurs, charged with bringing up ladders to scale the walls, threw them down and fled, for which the culprits were summarily executed. When Peninsula veterans were thrown into the War of 1812 against the United States of America, the Chasseurs went with them; they lasted until another breach of discipline, the pillage and rapine at Hampton, Virginia, led to their disbandment in 1814. Who were the Chasseurs, and how did they view their role, these Frenchmen who volunteered to kill their own countrymen on behalf of the British? Were they loyal defenders of true French honour, or cynical mercenaries? In my novel The Chase I've explored this issue through the story of Jacques Decernay, himself a Chasseur. During his court-martial in England in March 1815, he has this to say:
‘It has been called a mongrel regiment—if that phrase means a mixture of men and of principles, then it could not be more accurate. Nearly all our officers were émigrés, from families who came to England last century, because of the Revolution. They were nobly born, trained to lead; I can swear to you, gentlemen, that when I fought under those commanders I saw a loyalty to king and country that was deeper, more enduring, than that of the bravest Englishman in the field. Because they were fighting, and would not cease to fight, to rescue our country from the usurper. ‘
Alongside our émigré leaders were republicans; men who had fought for liberty in France, who helped to set up constitutional government. These man believed in just and equal laws and they were ready to sacrifice their lives to French independence. They fought for their country's liberty, but they could not prevent it from being overthrown from within by the emperor. They continued to serve, they stayed loyal to France, only to find themselves in the vanguard of the greatest despot of our time. You know the mighty deeds of the Grande Armée; those who rode with Bonaparte left death and devastation behind them across Europe. And meanwhile at home, in France, younger and still younger citizens were being fed into the deadly machine of Empire.'
And the rest of the Chasseurs? To be sure, there were soldiers of fortune in our ranks, miscreants, outcasts, men brought low by accident or poverty or injustice. Mongrels, yes; men with nothing to lose. But there is one factor that bound us all together and gave us strength. For many years, gentlemen, the Chasseurs were the only free French soldiers on earth. Our country was in thrall to Bonaparte. We chose to serve with you, because we wanted what you did—his ultimate destruction.'
From this perspective, and in the light of the more recent historical example of De Gaulle's freedom fighters in operation against the Vichy French in the Second World War, we have a chance to look at the Chasseurs Britanniques with more understanding than their detractors afforded them at the time. There is no doubt that their situation was ambiguous and their task unenviable—for they were fighting their own countrymen. But in the end that task was fulfilled. Bonaparte fell. And though they did not achieve victory on their own, in their steadfast endeavour the finest of them can be said to have earned their share of glory.
