Peter the Great

by Robert K. Massie

  The resulting confusion proved fatal on the battlefield. It stemmed from the absence of the one commanding figure who rose above such jealousies and who was implicitly obeyed. Lewenhaupt himself recognized this after the battle. "Would to God our gracious King had not been wounded," he said, "for then it had never gone as it did."

  The Swedish plan worked out by Charles and Rehnskjold was to attack with great speed just before dawn, taking the Russians by surprise, and move rapidly past the redoubts, ignoring any fire that might come from the defenders. Once through the redoubts, the Swedish columns would swing left and break out onto the broad plain in front of the main Russian camp. The infantry would march down the western edge of the plain to a position northwest of Peter's entrenched army while the Swedish cavalry swept the field clear of Peter's horsemen. Having reached the desired position between the Russians and the ford at Petrovka, the entire Swedish army would wheel to the right and form a line of battle. If the maneuver worked, the Russians would find themselves pinned into their camp against the riverbank with the steep bluff behind them and the Swedish army ready for battle standing astride their escape route to Petrovka. If they were unwilling to accept Charles' challenge to fight, they would be welcome to stay inside their entrenchments and eventually starve.

  Lewenhaupt's infantry, whose total strength was only 7,000 men, was divided into four columns—two on the left comprising ten battalions, and two on the right comprising eight battalions. The King and his stretcher would be with the first column on the left wing, composed entirely of Guards. The second column on the left would be commanded by Major General Karl Gustav Roos, the two on the right by Generals Berndt Stackelberg and Axel Sparre. The cavalry squadrons were divided into six columns, under the overall command of Kreutz. Of the thirty pieces of Swedish artillery still operable, most were left behind in the siege works or with the baggage. This was partly Rehnskjold's decision. He had a cavalryman's distaste for artillery and believed that to drag cannon past the redoubts would reduce the rapid movement he demanded. Further, there would be no time to position the guns and begin a bombardment; besides, the powder was largely spoiled by the wet weather of the previous winter. Accordingly, the Swedes took only four cannon with them. The final decision, Rehnskjold hoped, would be reached with the steel of sword and bayonet.

  At eleven p.m on that short summer night, darkness fell and the Swedish infantry quietly broke camp and began moving forward to assembly points. Charles had his wounded foot freshly bandaged and himself dressed in full uniform with a high, spurred boot on his unharmed right leg. Beside him in his litter he laid his naked sword. The litter was carried forward through the long lines of marching men to the position where the Guards battalions were assembling. Here he found Rehnskjold, Piper, Lewenhaupt and his other generals wrapped in their cloaks, talking quietly and waiting. There was little moon and the brief night was relatively dark for a Ukrainian summer evening.

  At midnight, when the short darkness was most intense, the soldiers who had been sitting or lying on the ground began to form ranks. There was some confusion in the darkness as battalions sorted themselves out and formed into columns. Uniforms were old, faded and patched after two years of campaigning, and some were scarcely identifiable. To distinguish himself from his enemies, each Swedish soldier took a wisp of straw and fixed it to his cap. In addition, a password was circulated among the troops: "With God's help" was to be shouted in Swedish in case of confusion. When the four columns were formed, the men were given permission to sit again to rest while waiting for the cavalry to arrive. This delay was longer than expected. Normally, the cavalry squadrons were expertly managed and led by Rhenskjold, but he was not with them, having been given command of the entire army, and the saddling of the horses at Pushkarivka and the forming of six columns of horsemen fell behind schedule.

  As they were waiting, the Swedish generals heard a new sound from the Russian lines, a sound of "knocking and hewing," which showed that men were working not far away, much closer to them than the line of the first six Russian redoubts. In was obvious that Russian working parties were up to something in this no-man's-land. But what? To find out, Rehnskjold himself rode out to investigate.

  In the dim light, the Field Marshal made an alarming discovery. During the night, the Russians had been furiously throwing up earth to construct a new line of four redoubts on a line at right angles to the previous six. These new redoubts extended straight forward down the Poltava road in the direction of the Swedish camp and would force a split of any Swedish advance into two separate wings, passing by either side of the redoubts and permitting the Russians to pour a flanking fire into the Swedish columns as they swept past. As Rehnskjold stared, he realized that the last two redoubts, the ones nearest to him, were still only partially finished. At the same moment, the men working on them saw him and his party of horsemen. There was a shout, a pistol shot, other shots, and then inside the Russian lines a warning drum began to beat. Rehnskjold hurried back to where Charles lay on his stretcher, and a council of war was held. The light was growing fast. The cavalry had now arrived, but the element of surprise was rapidly vanishing. Time was extremely short. Rehnskjold wanted to seize the moment and order the attack as planned; otherwise, he would have to give up the assault and the entire plan of battle would have to be canceled.

  Charles, although unable to reconnoiter personally, was always an advocate of attack. He agreed, and orders were quickly issued. The infantry battalions reformed into five columns with the commanders of four instructed to move quickly past the new redoubts, ignoring their fire, and then form into line of battle on the plain according to the original plan. The fifth column, consisting of four battalions, was to envelop and attack the four new redoubts. Thus, the Swedish advance was to be split by the projecting line of redoubts like a stream divided by a series of large rocks, and flow past them, while the central wave was to dash against and if possible flood over the new obstacles.

  As the Swedish generals urgently issued fresh commands, the darkness was turning to gray. The Swedish infantry was still reforming when Russian cannon in the forward redoubts opened fire. Cannonballs plowed into the massed, stationary Swedish ranks, decapitating a captain, two grenadiers and four musketeers. It was essential to move. At four a.m., just as the sun peeked up over the trees to the east, the Swedish redeployment was finished and Rehnskjold gave the order to advance. The Battle of Poltava had begun.

  Seven thousand Swedish foot soldiers, massed in oblong blocks of blue, purposefully fixed their bayonets and advanced across the field toward the Russian redoubts. Behind the columns on the left came the files of Swedish cavalry, some in blue coats trimmed in yellow, a few in yellow coats trimmed with blue. The horsemen reined their mounts and slowed the pace so as not to outrun the infantry, but amidst the leading squadrons the early rays of sun already glinted upon unsheathed steel. Most of the army ignored the redoubts, but as the central column of infantry reached the first redoubt, the Swedish grenadiers stormed over the unfinished earthwork,. bayoneting the defenders in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle. It fell quickly. The second redoubt met the same fate as the Swedish infantry climbed into the earth-work, firing and bayoneting. Some of the companies which had captured the two redoubts then fell back into the lines of men flowing past the redoubts to the left while others prepared for assault on the third redoubt, which was already under attack by two battalions under Roos.

  It was in the attack on the third and fourth redoubts that a dangerous problem developed. The third redoubt was bravely defended, and the first Swedish assault was rebuffed. More troops were committed, and eventually six battalions of Swedish troops piled up before this obstacle. It was as if, in rushing past the redoubts, the Swedes had snagged a piece of clothing on a nasty bramble and, once entangled, had tried unsuccessfully to free themselves, all the while becoming more and more diverted from their original purpose.

  The trouble lay in the secrecy which Rehnskjold had employed to keep his pla
n of attack from his subordinates. Roos never understood that his primary objective was simply to mask the redoubts while the rest of the army streamed past on both sides. What Roos should have done when repulsed was to withdraw and move past to the assembly point on the far side. Instead, he grimly reformed ranks and tried again. Repulsed a second time, he stubbornly added strength until six battalions—2,600 men—of the precious Swedish infantry were impaled on this unimportant obstacle. Taking the redoubt became Roos' sole ambition; he had not the least idea what was happening to the rest of the army or even where it was. So, in the first stage of the Swedish attack, a fundamental error was committed. Later, assessing what happened, Lewenhaupt said that the entire army, Roos included, should have avoided the central redoubts completely and simply swept past them. Rehnskjold later, as a prisoner of war in Russia, admitted the same mistake, saying, "One mistake can darken all previous gloire." Even Charles, who refused to criticize his generals after the battle, admitted ruefully, "Here the reconnaissance was not well done."

  Suddenly, as the battle raged around the redoubts, two crowded lines of Menshikov's Russian dragoons issued from between the redoubts and charged the Swedish infantry. Seeing them coming, a cry of "Advance cavalry" arose from the Swedish infantry and the Swedish horsemen formed into wedges, knee to knee, and advanced at a trot to meet the oncoming Russian dragoons. Twenty thousand naked swords flashed in the sunlight as the two masses of cavalry clashed in the intervals between the Russian redoubts. Clouds of dust mingled with the roar of cannon, the report of pistols and the clang of steel on steel. For almost an hour, the melee continued with both Russians and Swedes refusing to retreat. Menshikov, exhilarated, sent fourteen captured Swedish standards and banners to Peter in the camp, along with the urgent advice that the Tsar immediately advance with all his forces and fight the battle on the line of the redoubts. Peter, still wary of Swedish prowess and scarcely believing that Menshikov's men could be doing so well, twice ordered his headstrong lieutenant to break off action and withdraw. Reluctantly, the Prince finally complied, wheeling his squadrons to the north, dispatching the larger part of the force under Bauer (Ronne had been severely wounded) to the northern flank of the Russian camp, and retreating himself with a smaller group of the camp's left flank. From the camp itself, Russian cannon along the ramparts laid down a protective curtain of fire, screening the withdrawing Russian horsemen and discouraging the Swedish cavalry from serious pursuit.

  Meanwhile, Rehnskjold's failure to brief his subordinate commanders fully was leading to confusion elsewhere on the battlefield. The six Swedish infantry battalions on the right wing, personally commanded by Lewenhaupt, whose purpose was simply to march past the redoubts and join the main Swedish army in the field beyond, became confused in the smoke and dust raised by the cavalry battle and, at the same time, began taking destructive musket and cannon fire from the redoubts. To save his men, Lewenhaupt moved the line of march even farther to the right, away from the haze and out of range of the Russian fire. As he pulled off to the east, drifting farther and farther to the right, Lewenhaupt opened a wide gap in the Swedish line of battle. In fact, Lewenhaupt, uninformed and unconcerned about Rehnsk

  jold's overall purpose, desired only to lead his column of infantry forward and attack the main enemy army. Forgetting or ignoring the Field Marshal's basic order to remain parallel, he swung off even farther to the right after passing the last line of redoubts because the ground there seemed easier to cross. With every step, he and his six battalions were marching farther away from the main body of troops. In fact, Lewenhaupt was enormously pleased to be off by himself away from Rehnskjold, who, he grumbled, had treated him "like a lackey."

  Now, the direction of Lewenhaupt's march lay straight toward the main Russian fortified camp. The large camp was by this time very wide awake, and as he marched forward, Russian artillery on the rampart opened fire on his men. But Lewenhaupt, now happily independent, was undeterred by the prospect of leading his six battalions against the entire Russian army, and his ranks went forward in textbook formation. Within musket range of the Russian entrenchment, he discovered that his advance was blocked by an unexpected ravine. Undaunted, he began to move his soldiers around this obstacle, still cheerfully preparing to storm over the Russian rampart at the head of 2,400 men into the midst of 30,000.

  Meanwhile, to the left of the redoubts on the far side of the field from Lewenhaupt, the main Swedish force was the only one of three divisions which had followed the original plan, no doubt because it was commanded by Rehnskjold himself. Once the Russian cavalry had departed the field, the two infantry columns of this force hurried past the redoubts as envisaged, taking casualties from the flanking fire but penetrating quickly into the field beyond. It was here that the entire Swedish infantry of eighteen battalions had been scheduled to rendezvous in preparation for the attack on the Russian camp. For the moment, the officers with Rehnskjold were jubilant; everything seemed to be going according to plan. As the six battalions of the left reached the rendezvous point and wheeled into position, officers came up to congratulate the King, who had been carried on his stretcher through the redoubts with the infantry and was now sipping water while his wounded foot was redressed.

  Unfortunately, as Rehnskjold looked around for the remainder of his infantry, there was nothing to be seen. Twelve battalions— the forces assigned to Lewenhaupt and Roos—were missing. Within moments, Lewenhaupt's six battalions were located: Far out in front and to the right, they were heard being fired upon as they worked their way around the ravine at the southwest corner of the Russian camp. Rehnskjold urgently dispatched a messenger, ordering Lewenhaupt to abandon his approach to the camp from that direction and immediately rejoin the main force waiting for him at the western edge of the field. When Lewenhaupt received the order, he was furious. Although he had only infantry—his force lacked even a single piece of artillery—he had already overrun two of the Russian redoubts blocking his path, and he was at the point of storming over the southern rampart of the Russian camp with sword and bayonet. This southern rampart was weakly defended, and Lewenhaupt with his 2,400 men was about to achieve the classic Swedish objective in battle: to bear down with momentum on a weak point in the enemy line, break through and then roll up the opposing army, using panic and confusion as allies. Whether by breaking over the wall into Peter's camp his tiny force would actually have been able to panic Peter's army is questionable. These Russians were not the raw recruits of Narva, but disciplined veterans. In addition, Peter was already moving the army to the front of the camp and assembling it for battle, which is why Lewenhaupt found the southwest corner thinly defended. Had his fiery Swedes actually come over the wall and found themselves confronted by ten times as many Russians prepared for battle, they might have had initial success, but, unsupported, they soon would have been engulfed. In any case, to Lewenhaupt's dismay, they were commanded to withdraw, and they withdrew.

  It was now six a.m. There was a lull in the fighting as far as most of the Swedish army was concerned. The main body, with Rehnskjold, the King, the cavalry and one third of the infantry, had moved northwest past the front of the Russian camp to the pre-planned position from where it could strike either at the camp or at the Petrovka river crossing. Lewenhaupt's six battalions, retiring from the camp's southern wall, were making their way toward Rehnskjold; when they reached the main body and fell into place, Rehnskjold would have twelve of his eighteen infantry battalions. But where were the other six?

  They were in fact still south of the cross line of six redoubts, which were for the most part still in Russian hands, and still struggling under Roos' command to take the third and fourth of the forward redoubts by assault. The effort was gallant and at the same time pathetically irrelevant. The only purpose in attacking the protruding redoubts had been to mask the march-past of the main army; that done, the assault battalions had been supposed to abandon the effort and hurry to rejoin the main body. But no one had told Major General Roos,
and this gallant officer was still trying to do what Swedish officers were supposed to do: capture the objective in front of him.

  The battle at the redoubts did not last much longer. Three times Roos assaulted the redoubts, and three times he was repulsed. Finally, with forty percent of his men killed or wounded, he decided to withdraw. His intention then was to join the main army, but he had no idea where it had gone. Needing time to reform his shattered force into companies and battalions, he began to retreat into a wood east of the redoubts. Many of his wounded men tried to follow, crawling on their hands and knees.

  Meanwhile, Peter was standing on the western rampart of his camp and looking out over the field. He saw that the Swedish army had passed through the redoubts and now was massing to his right on the northwest. At the same time, watching Lewenhaupt's withdrawal, he saw that a clear path was open from his camps to the redoubts which had resisted Roos. At once, the Tsar ordered Menshikov with a powerful force—five battalions of infantry drawn from the main camp and five regiments of his own dragoons, 6,000 men in all—to find Roos in the woods, attack and destroy him. This force would also be available to reinforce Poltava, the road to which now lay open. As Menshikov's first squadrons approached them, Roos' beleaguered men took them for Swedish reinforcements. Almost before they discovered their mistake, the Russians were upon them. Under the fire of the advancinng Russian cavalry and infantry, Roos' shattered ranks crumbled completely. In fierce hand-to-hand fighting, most of his men were killed or captured. Roos himself escaped with 400 men, fleeing south with Menshikov's horsemen close behind. Near Poltava, the Swedes threw themselves into an abandoned trench, but once again the Russians closed in. At last, mauled, pursued, outnumbered, Roos had no choice but to surrender. Just as he was led away, the sound of cannon to the northwest began in earnest. The first shots of the real battle were being fired, but Roos and his