The weather was atrocious as the army crossed the River Isar at Landshut, Freising and Munich on October 25, and many were the long faces among les grognards as they battled against the driving sleet. As the corps advanced, they met increasing Russian activity, and a number of skirmishes were a fought. Nevertheless it was clear that Kutusov was retiring, burning every possible bridge behind him. This notwithstanding, Murat, Lannes and Soult reached the River Inn within twenty-four hours, the engineers performing marvels in making rapid repairs at the crossings. Nevertheless, Kutusov was making good his retreat, being determined to avoid a major battle on the south bank of the Danube even if this cost the Emperor of Austria his capital. As might be expected there was considerable disagreement between the Allied commanders over this issue, but Kutusov doggedly refused to entertain the idea of either joining with Archduke Charles for a last desperate battle near St. Polten or of fighting a delaying action that would enable the Archdukes to join up in the Tyrol and form a threat to Napoleon’s flank (which might have postponed the fall of Vienna). Instead of standing at bay along the river lines, therefore, Kutusov continued his withdrawal up the valley of the river toward Krems, taking with him willy-nilly the Austrian corps of Merveldt and de Steyer. Nevertheless, Murat and Lannes were dangerously exposed should the Russian commander change his mind, and Napoleon lost no time in sending off Davout’s corps to strengthen the pursuit while Marmont was moved to Leoben in order to sever the road linking Vienna with the Italian front.
This is a convenient place to mention the events taking place south of the Alps. Despite his two-to-one superiority in numbers, the Archduke Charles chose to ignore the insistent directions of the Aulic Council that he should undertake the main offensive, and uncomplainingly yielded the initiative to Massena. By October 17, Massena had crossed the Adige and was in possession of Verona and the key bridges. Even this bold “trailing of the coat” did not provoke the Archduke to advance; instead he steadily retired to the strong position of Caldiero “more occupied with his own security than with the conquest of Italy.” News of the disaster of Ulm made him even less disposed to risk his army by any aggressive movement, but when the eager Massena assaulted the Austrian entrenchments on October 29 (the Second Battle of Caldiero), the French were fought to a standstill. Notwithstanding this Austrian near-victory, Charles resumed his retreat on November 1, contenting himself with a succession of delaying actions fought along the banks of the Rivers Brenta, Piave, Tagliamento and Isonzo to keep back the pursuing French. The Austrian put great faith in the strong garrison of Venice, which, he hoped, would constitute such a threat to the French flank that Massena would be forced to break contact. This proved over-optimistic; the marshal was not long delayed by this threat. Using the newly recalled corps of St. Cyr from Naples to mask the fortress, Massena continued his pursuit unchecked despite difficult winter weather. Massena was executing Napoleon’s orders to the letter, helped not a little by the shortcomings displayed by his opponent, who in this campaign undoubtedly failed to do himself credit. Charles failed lamentably “to sustain his previous reputation,”13 and the entire Austrian conception of an onslaught on North Italy foundered. Nevertheless, the Archduke’s clumsy moves caused Napoleon considerable anxiety especially when the Archduke John succeeded in joining his brother in Carinthia after journeying over the Brenner Pass, creating as they did the possibility of a threat to the Grande Armée’s southern flank, which could compromise the whole operation directed against Vienna. The dispatch of Marmont toward Leoben was designed to ward off the intervention, or at least provide Napoleon with early tidings of any such peril.
On October 28, Napoleon quitted Munich and set out to follow his advance guard. Eight days later, Murat was involved in a severe engagement with Kutusov’s rearguard at Amstetten on the River Ips. The Gascon attacked with great élan, believing that thereby he would compel Kutusov to turn and fight. In fact, the wily old Russian was deliberately fostering the illusion that his army intended to stay on the south bank in order to deceive his pursuers and cover his final moves toward the bridges at Mautern and Krems, his one purpose being to place the Danube between himself and the French and thus facilitate a junction with General Buxhowden in the region of Olmütz. On November 8, Davout inflicted a severe drubbing on Merveldt’s Austrians at Maria Zell, but Kutusov was not to be deflected from his general purpose by any temptation to turn and rend his pursuers. The Danube crossing continued unhindered and was completed by the 9th, on which date the bridges were destroyed. The Russians had escaped Napoleon’s first trap.
Meanwhile, Murat—entirely deceived as to the whereabouts and intentions of the enemy’s main body—pressed on for Vienna without attempting to harass Kutusov or even rebuild the destroyed bridges. The glittering but militarily irrelevant prize of Vienna was now his sole concern, but this allowed Kutusov to escape and placed Mortier’s isolated corps in grave danger, faced as it was by Kutusov’s undivided strength on the north bank. Napoleon was at Linz on November 9 when he heard of his subordinate’s rash actions, and not surprisingly he was furious; a new blistering reprimand was soon on its way to the recalcitrant Murat: “I cannot approve your manner of march; you go on like a stunned fool, taking not the least notice of my orders. The Russians, instead of covering Vienna, have all retreated over the Danube at Krems. This extraordinary circumstance should have made you realize that you could not act without further instructions.”14
The Emperor’s mood was in no way improved when news of Trafalgar reached him the following day. It seemed that he was being betrayed by both his generals and his admirals, or at least compromised by their stupidity. Nevertheless, the Emperor must be made to bear personal responsibility for not keeping a closer control over the headstrong Murat at this stage of the campaign; he gave him altogether too much rope.
The full impact of the Gascon’s ill-considered moves came home with a vengeance on the 11th, when Gazan’s division of Mortier’s corps ran into 40,000 Russians at Dürrenstein. A desperate battle developed as Mortier in person tried to make the best of a grim situation with only 5,000 men and ten guns. So pessimistic was he about the outcome that he embarked his battery in three river boats ready for evacuation to the south bank; at least the guns should escape. In spite of the enormous odds, the gallant French infantry held off the Russians until dusk; in desperation Mortier planned a final attempt to break out through the encircling forces, but at that moment who should loom in sight but the gallant Dupont, hero of the similar engagement of Haslach, at the head of his division. Confronted by the need to face this new and fresh force, the Russians called off the battle, leaving 4,000 casualties behind them. For his part, Gazan had lost 3,000 men, and the mocd of the survivors was jubilant, but grim; they fell on the Russian wounded with little mercy, and ransacked the unfortunate village of Dürrenstein which had already received the attentions of both armies as the fortunes of the battle swayed to and fro. Next day, the corpses of many Russian wounded were discovered, wantonly drowned in casks of wine.
It was fortunate Gazan had escaped with only 60 per cent casualties, for had his entire division been destroyed, as it might well have been but for Dupont’s timely arrival, the French would have forfeited much of the moral advantage acquired at Ulm. As it was, two invaluable days were lost, and Napoleon was well aware of the importance of the time factor, especially as Kutusov was by this time undoubtedly drawing close to Buxhowden’s army. Nevertheless, the French Emperor was the master of the alternative plan and had already devised an improvised manoeuvre sur Hollabrunn to remedy the damage and catch Kutusov before he met his compatriots. Murat was ordered to continue his way to the Austrian capital. “If you have the good fortune to take the bridge at Vienna intact,” wrote the Emperor, “do not lose an instant in crossing the Danube with part of your cavalry and the grenadiers of Suchet’s division. Order the divisions of Legrand and Vandamme to follow you. All being well, the Russian army will find itself taken on account of this maneuver. I will come
in person tomorrow to join you.”15 Lannes and Soult would at once follow up through the bridgehead, their target being the junction of the Krems-Olmütz road. Meanwhile, Bernadotte, supported by Mortier, was to cross the Danube at Melk to place his corps in Kutusov’s rear and complete the envelopment.
At first all went well. On November 12, Murat reached the suburbs of the Austrian capital, lying on the south bank of the Danube. The Austrians had declared Vienna an open city, and in consequence its occupation was unopposed. Five hundred cannon and 100,000 muskets fell into French hands together with a vast quantity of munitions; these windfalls were all the more welcome as the French corps were now far ahead of their supply trains. However, when Murat approached the vital bridge, he found a strong Austrian defense force in possession, and it was evident that demolition preparations were well advanced. Nevertheless, by a superb display of bluff and daring, Murat and Lannes carried the day. As Oudinot’s grenadiers crept towards their objective, the two marshals and their aides strode forward in their resplendent uniforms and calmly walked toward the bridge. The outlying picquet of Austrian hussars could only gape at this spectacle with never a thought of offering resistance. Without an apparent qualm the party made its way onto the bridge, pushing before them a remonstrating Austrian underofficer of artillery, and under the dazed eyes of the troops on the farther bank proceeded to cross over crying, “Armistice! Armistice!” A parley was opened with the commander, Count Auersperg, and the garrison continued to hesitate until a column rushed the bridge while the marshals leaped among the Austrian gunners and by sheer force of personality prevented them from opening fire. Then it was all over; the grenadiers were among the guns pushing the dazed Austrians away from their pieces and the bridge was won without the loss of a life. It was a superb achievement, and when he heard of it, the Emperor readily forgave Murat his earlier mistakes and restored him to a measure of favor.
Notwithstanding this favorable opening, the maneuver of Hollabrunn ended in new disappointment. Lannes and Soult duly followed the cavalry screen northward from Vienna with the greatest élan, but Bernadotte was hopelessly delayed at Melk and succeeded in forcing his way over the river only on the 15th. This proved fatal to the encirclement plan; Kutusov was given ample opportunity to continue his withdrawal towards the rendezvous, passing through the town of Znaim, and leaving Bagration with 6,000 troops at Hollabrunn to cover the movement. The same day that Bernadotte was at last crossing the Danube, Murat, pushing far ahead with only his cavalry and Oudinot’s grenadiers, clashed with this covering force outside Hollabrunn. The first action was inconclusive, but Murat allowed himself to be talked into accepting a provisional armistice by Kutusov’s emissary, the wily General Winzgerode. Each side agreed to suspend operations and undertook to provide six hours clear notice of any intended renewal of hostilities. When news of this arrangement reached the Emperor in the evening, he was besides himself with rage. “I am lost for words with which to express my discontent,” wrote Napoleon. “You are only the commander of my advance guard and you have no right to conclude an armistice without my order. You have thrown away the advantages of the entire campaign. Break the armistice instantly, and attack the enemy! March! Destroy the Russian army! … The Austrians let themselves be duped over the Vienna bridge, but now you have been fooled by an aide-de-camp of the Tsar!”16 Every phrase rings with heartfelt imperial indignation.
Stung by this new rebuke, a chastened Murat forthwith launched a ferocious attack on Bagration, inflicting 2,000 casualties, but the Russian commander had successfully achieved his mission and lost little time in extricating the remainder of his command. The Emperor was soon in hot pursuit; on the 17th Znaim was occupied—destined to play an important role in subsequent events—but it was now too late to prevent Kutusov from joining Tsar Alexander and General Buxhowden’s reinforcements. By this time, too, the exhaustion of the French troops was reaching alarming proportions, and on November 23 the Emperor had no option after occupying Brünn but to call a halt in operations and afford his men a much-needed rest. The Grande Armée had been ceaselessly on the offensive for eight weeks; its impetus and energy were now exhausted, and it appeared as if the initiative would have to pass to the Allies.
For some time, the appearance of the French army had been clearly deteriorating, and the troops were taking on the aspect of scarecrows. Writing from Salzburg, an Austrian veteran described the hurrying columns: “You now see many of them dressed in peasant’s blouses, sheepskin cloaks or wild-animal skins; some are laden down in the most singular fashion, carrying long strips of lard, hams, or chunks of meat dangling from their belts. Others march all hung about with loaves of bread and bottles of wine. Their penury, however … does not prevent them from lighting their pipes with Viennese banknotes.”17 The ignorant grognards, with their inbred distrust of paper currencies based on years of experience of worthless assignats and mandats, burned many thousands of thalers worth of negotiable notes.
With the halting of their offensive, the French had reached the major crisis of the campaign. Napoleon was faced by a set of complex interrelated problems. The Russians and Austrians, now totaling some 90,000 men, were strongly positioned toward Olmütz, with secure lines of communication running northeastward towards Poland and Silesia. The Grande Armée, on the other hand, was at the extremity of a very extended communications system, potentially open to attack in the near future by the troops of a mobilizing Prussia. Should the Russians continue their withdrawal, an invidious decision would have to be made; if the French continued the pursuit, a still greater strain would be placed on their communications, with Bennigsen as well as the Prussians in a position to take the army in flank. If, alternatively, the Grande Armée held its present ground indefinitely, the future held scarcely brighter prospects; the Archdukes Charles and John were already amidst the Alps en route for the Danube theater, and in due course Napoleon might well find himself between two formidable fires, the Russians and the Prussians on one side, the 90,000 Austrians from Italy and the Tyrol on the other. Perhaps the most logical course would be to retrace his steps at least as far as Ulm, but this would involve an admission of strategical defeat, while the ravaged countryside of Austria and Bavaria would hold few supplies for the army’s subsistence. Looked at from all sides, it was hardly a cheerful prospect; the French army was extended for strategical and logistical reasons in a vast arc from Ulm through Innsbruck and Graz to Vienna and beyond, and the component corps were barely within supporting distance of one another, with the exception of those gathered around Vienna and Hollabrunn facing the main Allied forces. The men were exhausted and hungry, and Marmont was already reporting from Graz and Leoben that he expected Archduke Charles to make contact with him in the very near future; nor could the Austrian detachments in the Tyrol be ignored with impunity: the overextended southern flank of the Grande Armée appeared in deadly danger, and the northern flank was equally imperiled.
The Emperor’s solution to this enigma was typically bold and unconventional. The only sure way out of the dilemma was to lure the Allied army at Olmütz into an ill-advised attack against the main body of the French forces to the north of Vienna. A great battle and a major victory could alone solve all the problems. As early as November 14, Napoleon was issuing preliminary orders to make such a battle possible. Marmont was instructed to remain strictly on the defensive on the southern front, avoiding action for as long as possible. Napoleon calculated that Charles could hardly come up to Leoben in strength before the 24th or 25th of the month, and by that time Davout’s IIIrd and Mortier’s VIIIth Corps could be within supporting distance of Marmont if it was considered necessary or advisable. Satisfied that his southern flank was reasonably well secured for the time being, the Emperor next bent all his energies into devising a scheme which would ensnare the Olmütz armament. By November 21, the plan was clear in his mind. One third of the army, namely the corps of Soult and Lannes, together with Murat, should advance towards Brünn and Wischau to occupy the ene
my’s attention, taking possession of the town of Austerlitz and the neighboring Pratzen Heights, and sending a brigade of light cavalry well forward up the Olmütz road. These forces would total some 53,000 Frenchmen, and Napoleon was confident that the Allies, 89,000 strong, would be tempted to undertake a battle at odds of almost two to one in their favor. Once the enemy had snapped up the bait, Napoleon would call up the neighboring corps of Bernadotte and Davout by forced marches from Iglau and Vienna respectively, bringing his forces up to a strength of 75,000 for the actual battle, thus reducing the odds to more reasonable proportions.
By the 25th, the preliminary moves were complete, and everything depended on the foe’s reaction. For several days the Allies hesitated, unable to believe their good fortune in catching the French so dispersed, but Napoleon devised further baits to lure them into battle so that when the Austrian Emperor offered an armistice on the 27th (hoping thereby to give the Archduke Charles time to enter the Danube arena from the south), Napoleon appeared only too eager to agree. With the greatest cunning he contrived every appearance of military weakness. The keen-witted Savary was forthwith dispatched to Allied headquarters with a vague message, mentioning Napoleon’s desire to avoid a battle at this stage, with secret instructions to study the enemy’s prevalent mood and dispositions. On his return he reported that the Allied counsels were still divided. The Austrian Emperor was clearly in favor of circumspection (after all, he stood to lose most), but his advice was carrying little weight as his troops comprised only a fifth of the Allied army. Of the Russians, Kutusov was also hesitant, but the immediate entourage of the Tsar and the Austrian chief of staff were ardently advocating immediate action and appeared to be swaying Alexander’s opinion. The young Russian aides were ceaselessly pointing out that Napoleon’s agreement to consider an armistice was a sure sign of weakness, and that in any case the concentrated Allied army could not linger much longer around Olmütz as the local food supplies were rapidly being consumed.
The Campaigns of Napoleon Page 52
