Fire and Sword

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘As certain as we can be, sire.’

  Napoleon was still for a moment, and then shrugged. ‘Very well, then. That has to be the main Prussian force. And we have the enemy where we want him. The first thrust of the Grand Army will fix the Prussians on the plateau, while Davout and Bernadotte cross the Saale and march on to their flank and rear. If all goes well, they will crumble under assault from two directions and the day is ours.’

  Lannes was silent for a moment before he responded.‘Assuming that is the entire Prussian army out there. What if the enemy has split his force, sire? What if there is another column we have not accounted for?’

  ‘Another column?’ Napoleon snorted dismissively.‘Why would there be another column? Why would the enemy divide his strength on the eve of battle? Not even the Prussians are that foolish, my dear Lannes.’

  He turned away from the enemy and indicated an even stretch of ground a short distance from the crest of the ridge. ‘I’ll spend the rest of the night there. Have a fire made up, and then I want the first units of the Imperial Guard to take up position around the crest.’ Napoleon turned to the nearest of his staff officers. ‘See to it.’

  ‘At once, sire.’

  As the night passed the first of the guns arrived at the top of the Landgrafenberg and was eased into position on the forward slope. A steady stream of cannon and caissons rumbled past Napoleon’s makeshift command post, while the columns of infantry from Lannes’s corps and the Imperial Guard took a direct route to the summit and filed past in the darkness as they were directed into line for the dawn advance on to the plateau. By the light of his campfire Napoleon issued the last of his orders, and read through the most recent reports from his corps commanders. There was only one that concerned him slightly. Davout claimed to have detected a large enemy force ahead of him and suggested that it might be the main Prussian army. Napoleon considered the possibility for an instant and then dismissed it as he glanced towards the enemy campfires once more. There was no doubt about it, he decided, that had to be the main Prussian army. So, wrapping his coat about his shoulders, he settled on a camp chair and warmed himself at the fire as he waited for dawn and the coming battle.

  The cold night brought up a dense fog from the plateau as the first glimmer of day thickened along the horizon.The ground in front of the Landgrafenberg was wreathed in a pallid gloom that hid much of the detail of the landscape. During the night, the corps of Soult and Augereau had arrived and taken up positions alongside Lannes’s. Over forty thousand French troops were ready to advance and open the way for the bulk of the Grand Army crossing the river Saale behind them. The men were standing still and silent as ghosts as they waited for the attack to begin and Napoleon was pleased with their good discipline, since they were well within cannon range of the enemy position. If the Prussians were to detect any sign of the coming onslaught they would be ready in time to inflict fearful casualties amongst the leading French units.

  As he stood behind the batteries on the heights Napoleon flipped his pocket watch open and glanced down now and again as the hands slowly crawled towards six o’clock.Then there was a distant shout as the order was given, and the signal gun boomed, announcing the start of the attack. An instant later the batteries on the Landgrafenberg thundered out and Napoleon’s gaze was caught by the thin dark smear of a ball as it arced towards the Prussian lines, until it dropped into the fog. Then the drums rolled as they beat the advance and Lannes’s divisions began to tramp down the slope until they too were lost in the fog.

  Moments later Napoleon saw a bloom of orange in the murk and then heard the dull thud as a Prussian battery fired in the direction of the approaching French divisions. More enemy guns opened up and the rattle of musket fire accompanied the din as the skirmishers of both sides came into contact. On the Landgrafenberg the French gunners shifted their aim to target the dim flashes that revealed the positions of the enemy cannon. The firing from both sides grew more intense, but the fog prevented Napoleon from seeing how the attack was progressing. Then the first of the casualties came limping up the slope, nursing their injured limbs as they found what cover they could to wait out the battle and then find medical help.

  ‘I have to know what is going on,’ Napoleon snapped to one of the hussars of his personal guard. ‘Ride down there. Find Marshal Lannes and tell him to report his progress back to me at once.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  The firing continued with growing intensity, as if a storm were raging below the smooth surface of the fog, and even though the rising sun began to burn off the mist thick banks of powder smoke still obscured much of the detail as the first hours of the battle raged. The first reports arrived from the leading divisions and Napoleon scanned the hurriedly written notes to learn that the nearest villages on the plateau had been taken, with heavy losses inflicted by enemy cannon firing at close range on the densely packed French assault columns. But the enemy had been driven back and Lannes had won sufficient space for the other corps of the Grand Army to join the attack.

  By ten o’clock Soult’s men had reached their position on the right flank and launched an immediate attack on the Prussians, pushing them back.To the left, Augereau’s columns were striding out to take up their positions, and in the centre Ney’s fresh troops were marching up the road from Jena to reinforce Lannes. Only the last wreaths of fog lay in dips in the ground and now Napoleon had a clear view of the battlefield. The bodies of men from the assault columns littered the plateau, piled in small heaps where Prussian grapeshot had blasted into the French line. Beyond the villages of Closwitz and Lutzeroda the men of Lannes’s corps had paused to re-form in the face of fresh troops the Prussians had brought forward to meet the attack. There was a gap of nearly a mile between the reduced ranks of the men of Lannes’s corps and that of Augereau, and, as Napoleon watched, Ney’s column made for the gap and then continued forward alone towards the waiting Prussian artillery that had already done so much damage to Lannes’s men.

  ‘What is Ney doing?’ Napoleon fumed.‘What is that fool up to? He has no orders to advance yet. He can’t attack by himself.’

  Behind the Emperor the staff officers and messengers stood silently and watched helplessly as Ney’s men closed on the enemy and began to deploy as the first of the Prussian guns ahead of them opened fire, orange flames stabbing through puffs of smoke that looked like tiny flowers at a distance. Through Napoleon’s telescope the effect on the delicate-looking lines of French soldiers was all too real, however, as round shot swept away whole files of men at a time. With painstaking steadiness Ney’s men completed the manoeuvre and advanced towards the enemy line. The bright colours of each battalion’s standard led the way and the waving swords of the officers glittered like far-off stars as they caught the morning sun. The enemy cannon continued to cut scores of men down as the French advanced and then, as they closed up on the Prussian line, they halted and made ready to fire.

  There was a pause, then a final volley flashed out from the Prussian guns.An instant later, Ney’s men replied. Scores of men fell on each side, and then Ney’s infantry charged through the musket smoke and made for the enemy artillery positions.There was no time for the Prussians to reload and they fled from their guns, abandoning them to the French.

  Berthier clapped his hands. ‘They’ve done it! They have the guns!’

  ‘Yes.’ Napoleon nodded. ‘And at what cost? The fool has advanced too far, and has no support. Look there, now Ney will really have his battle.’

  Napoleon pointed out the dense mass of enemy cavalry already edging forward from the rear of the Prussian lines. They had been moving forward to counter Lannes’s attack, but the Prussian general had seen his chance to crush Ney’s isolated formation and the long lines of mounted men closed in on the French infantry. Ney did the only thing that he could under the circumstances, and Napoleon watched the distant infantry hurriedly form squares and prepare to receive the charge of the enemy cavalry.The Emperor had little doubt that Ney
and his men would hold off the Prussian horsemen, but they were not the real danger.While Ney’s corps held off the cavalry the Prussians would bring forward more guns and infantry to blast the static French formations to pieces.They could not possibly endure such punishment for long, and the squares would break down. At that point they would be entirely at the mercy of the Prussians.

  Napoleon frowned bitterly.‘Ney has forced my hand.We have to save that Gascon fool and his men.’ Napoleon turned away from the scene, his mind swiftly conceiving the necessary orders. ‘We need cavalry. Where is Murat?’

  ‘Still on the road to Jena, sire,’ Berthier replied.‘His advance elements have just begun to cross the Saale.We only have two cavalry regiments in the reserve.’

  ‘Then we must use them. Send them forward to support Ney.’

  Berthier’s eyes widened. ‘Two regiments against that host, sire? They won’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Neither will Ney if we don’t act at once. I will not lose Ney’s corps,’ Napoleon stated firmly. ‘Send those two regiments forward immediately. And order Lannes and Augereau to advance and take position on either flank of Ney’s corps.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  Napoleon turned back towards Ney’s embattled corps and saw that the enemy cavalry had now engulfed the squares. Each pocket of blue was surrounded by thick smoke amid which the dashing shadows of Prussian cavalry galloped past, their riders firing pistols at point blank range, and threatening to charge any weak points in the French lines. Napoleon’s heart was heavy with a mixture of dread for the fate of his men, cut off from the rest of the army and threatened with annihilation, and rage at Ney for his hot-headedness. Bravery was one thing, and Ney was as brave as they came, Napoleon conceded, but rashness was irresponsible at best and a positive peril at worst. If Ney survived the battle, there would be words spoken about his cavalier approach to orders.

  Napoleon dismissed his anger towards his subordinate and concentrated his attention on the battlefield once again. For the moment, the initiative had passed to the Prussians and they had the opportunity to crush Ney, and force the entire French line back to the foot of the Landgrafenberg, if they acted quickly. Already Napoleon could see a dense mass of enemy infantry moving towards Lannes and as the two sides came together in a fury of musket flashes and plumes of smoke the overwhelming numbers of the enemy began to tell. Lannes’s men were forced back on to a small hamlet halfway across the plateau. Napoleon could see at once that there was no chance that the Prussians could be halted there, and he cursed the speed at which his other corps were marching towards the battle. If only there was one more corps here to throw into the fight, to stabilise the line long enough for more men to arrive and swing the balance in favour of the French. He cursed Ney once more, and then Murat for failing to have his cavalry on hand, and then the enemy general for having the temerity to be a good enough soldier to seize the advantage.

  ‘Who would have thought that a Prussian general would take the initiative?’ he muttered to himself.

  It was Berthier who noticed it first. He stared over the battlefield for a moment, and then frowned as he spoke. ‘Sire, the enemy have halted.’

  ‘What?’

  Napoleon strained his eyes to make out the details of the battlefield to Lannes’s front. There was still a good deal of smoke obscuring both sides. But then he could see that Berthier was right.The enemy line had indeed halted, and even as Napoleon raised his telescope to look more closely he could make out the sergeants dressing the Prussian formations as if they were on a parade ground. As French fire plucked men out of the line, so they dressed ranks again and stood to attention, waiting.

  ‘What on earth are they playing at?’ asked Berthier. ‘Why don’t they continue to advance?’

  ‘God knows,’ Napoleon replied, and then swung his telescope across the battlefield. Ney was barely holding his own against the enemy cavalry but the Prussian artillery and infantry that had been advancing to trap his corps had also halted and were standing still, almost within musket range of the nearest French square. At first Napoleon could not understand it. Why would the Prussians throw away such a splendid opportunity to send the French line reeling back? Why delay? What were they waiting for?

  Napoleon swept his telescope across the landscape, and then steadied it on a fresh mass of Prussian soldiers approaching the battlefield from the west. He estimated their strength to be at least ten thousand, and smiled as he realised what was happening. The enemy general was waiting for reinforcements before he launched what he hoped would be the decisive attack on the battered French line. So, the Prussians were performing true to form, Napoleon mused. Still the same cautious, plodding foe. Well, they would pay for their foolishness. Indeed, they already were. Lannes’s men sheltering in the buildings of the hamlet were pouring a withering fire on the smartly dressed Prussian lines. As soon as Lannes became aware that the enemy had halted he had given the order for his artillery to unlimber in range of the Prussians and open fire. Now, blast after blast of case shot smashed into the enemy lines, leaving ten or more men dead and wounded with each discharge. Napoleon watched with a grudging sense of admiration as the enemy stood their ground in the face of such fire. All the time they were being steadily cut down by French fire, each battalion contracting amid the carnage dealt by the cones of heavy iron balls blasted at them from the muzzles of the French guns.

  The Prussians continued to take the punishment for the next two hours. Once Lannes’s skirmishers realised that the enemy were not going to move, they crept forward and added their fire from the houses of the village, and from behind the low walls that surrounded the villagers’ vegetable gardens. In return the Prussians fired volleys by company, reloading and firing again with little hope of causing any harm to the sheltered Frenchmen. The worst casualties suffered by Napoleon’s men came from a handful of lucky shots from Prussian howitzers that landed amongst the artillery caissons of the French batteries and blew up one of the powder wagons, scattering fragments of the vehicle, its horses and their handlers across the surrounding ground.

  While the duel on the right flank continued, more French troops were arriving on the battlefield and taking position as they waited for the order to attack. As the last of Murat’s cavalry formed up behind the centre of the French line Napoleon glanced down at his watch and saw that it was half an hour after noon. He glanced round at Berthier.

  ‘Send an order to all divisions. The army is to execute a general attack at one o’clock.’

  ‘Yes, sire. All divisions,’ Berthier repeated, and then gestured to the neat ranks of the Imperial Guard standing ready behind the Emperor’s command post. The men in the front rank had eager and excited expressions and there was no mistaking their desire to take part in the attack. ‘Does that include the Guard, sire?’

  ‘No.’ Napoleon shook his head emphatically. He had nearly suffered a defeat at Marengo for want of adequate reserves. In any case, he reasoned with himself, this battle was as good as won and there was no need to commit the veterans of the Guard to the fight. He glanced over at the heavily moustached faces of the nearest men of his elite corps and could see their disappointment at his decision.‘The campaign is not yet over,’ he added loudly enough for them to hear. ‘The grumblers will have the chance to win their share of glory another day.’

  On the hour the entire French line began to advance and once more the plateau was engulfed in acrid powder smoke, and the air resounded with the ear-splitting roar of artillery and the crackle of musket fire. For a while the Prussian line held and the men of the Imperial Guard began to mutter bitterly about their inactivity. Napoleon kept his back to the men and resolutely refused to acknowledge their discontent, until a voice cried out, ‘The Guard must advance! For pity’s sake, sire, do not shame us!’

  Napoleon turned abruptly and stabbed a finger towards the nearest men. ‘Who said that?’

  There was a sullen silence, and then one of the younger soldiers stepped a pace forward
and presented his musket. ‘Sire!’

  Napoleon strode over towards the man and stood in front of him, crossing his arms as he glared at the soldier. ‘Your name?’

  ‘Guardsman Bercourt, sire!’

  ‘So then, Bercourt, you want to charge at your enemy?’

  ‘Yes, sire. As does every man in the Guard.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes, sire.We are the best men in the army. In any army. It is our right to prove our worth in battle.’

  ‘Your right?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘You are a soldier, you have no rights. Just orders, and you will obey them. Look here, Bercourt.’ Napoleon gestured to the stripes on the man’s sleeve. ‘You have served the minimum number of campaigns to qualify for the Guard.Yet you presume to know how to command the army better than your Emperor?’

  The guardsman’s gaze flickered guiltily towards Napoleon’s face before snapping back to his front and staring over his Emperor’s shoulder. ‘No, sire.’

  ‘No, sire,’ Napoleon mimicked. ‘Of course not. Let me tell you, Bercourt, only when you have commanded in as many battles as I have should you even dare to offer me advice on how to run the army. Understand?’