Jean Baptiste de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau and marshal of France, was born in Vendôme in 1725. At sixteen he served under the maréchal de Broglie, was afterward aide to the duc d'Orléans, and distinguished himself in the battles of Crevelt, Minden, Closterkamp and Corbach, being seriously wounded several times. A thorough soldier, Rochambeau possessed not only courage, but a clear, practical eye, accompanied by foresight and judgment. His memoirs show him to have taken more kindly to the camp than the court, and outside of war to have been fond of the sports of a country gentleman. His appearance in Trumbull's picture of the surrender of Cornwallis shows us more of a Cincinnatus than of an Alexander. He was reserved in his manner, even with his officers, and De Fersen, writing to his father, complains of it, acknowledging, however, that it was shown less with him than with others. Later on he does Rochambeau justice, and says: "His example had its effect on the army, and the severe orders he gave restrained everybody and enforced that discipline which was the admiration of the Americans and of the English who witnessed it. The wise, prudent and simple conduct of M. de Rochambeau has done more to conciliate America to us than the gain of four battles."
With this representative soldier of his time came so fine a showing of the noblesse of France, fresh from the most brilliant court of Europe, that they are worth a short description. They are interesting, if from nothing else, from the fact that they are the men who appear on the page of history one day steeped in the enervating luxury and intrigue of Versailles and Marly, the next fighting and dying with the courage of the lionhearted Henri de la Rochejaquelin in Vendée, leaving as an epitaph on their whole generation the words of the Chouan chief, "Allons chercher l'ennemi! Si je recule, tuez moi; si j'avance, suivez moi; si je meurs, vengez moi!" Never even in Napoleon's campaigns, where each man had as incentive a name and fortune to carve, was there such a race of soldiers as these same aristocrats.
First and foremost, let us mention Armand Louis de Gontaut, duc de Lauzun, the duc de Biron of the Vendée. He was the gayest gallant of the time, and whether with the Polish princess Czartoriski, the beautiful Lady Sarah Bunbury--George III.'s admiration as he saw her making hay at Holland House--Mesdames de Stainville and de Coig and the rollicking actresses of the Comédie Française, or Mrs. Robinson (the prince of Wales's "Perdita,"), seems to have had universal success. We except the record that gives him the love of Marie Antoinette. To him was entrusted in this expedition the legion that bore his name, with Count Arthur Dillon as coadjutor. The maréchals-de-camp were the two brothers Viosmenil, celebrated for their beauty, and the marquis de Chastelleux, a member of the Institute and possessed of some literary merit. He had written a piece called _La Félicité publique_, which drew from the wits of the day the following epigram: