The 9th was also memorable for two other events. The first serious frost (twelve degrees) was experienced during the night—an omen of horrors to come—and found the army wholly unprepared. Only Caulaincourt—the Master of the Horse—had taken the precaution of having the Household’s horses shod for ice during the stay at Moscow. Even worse, news arrived that Baraguey d’Hilliers’s eagerly awaited division of reinforcements had been surprised during the morning by the Russians to the southwest of Smolensk. After seeing his leading brigade cut to pieces, the commanding general tamely agreed to surrender the remainder of his command. At one stroke, therefore, Napoleon found himself deprived of his only source of fresh soldiers. This disaster convinced him that it would be impossible to spend the winter in the Smolensk region as hitherto planned. The retreat would have to continue toward the next sets of depots at Vitebsk and Minsk.
Between the 9th and the 13th, the remnants of the Grande Armée closed up around Smolensk. The force that left Moscow almost 100,000 strong now totaled little more than 41,500 effectives. The Guard accounted for 14,000 of these, the dismounted cavalry for 5,000 more, but Davout was down to 10,000 men and Eugene to half that number; additionally, the IVth Corps had lost all its guns and transport. Weakest of all were the skeletons of the Vth and VIIth Corps, sharing 1,500 men between them, while Ney, bringing up the rear, had only 3,000 out of an original 11,000 around the colors. The former pride of Napoleon’s army already presented a pathetic sight. Little wonder that Napoleon placed great faith in the 25,000 comparatively fresh troops (IXth and IInd Corps) commanded by Victor and Oudinot in the vicinity of Orsha, and relied upon them to attack Wittgenstein without delay and avert the possibility of his being joined by Kutusov near Vitebsk. However, the Emperor still chose to delude himself that the Russians were a spent force in greater distress than his own men; even more strangely, he appears to have remained under the impression that Kutusov was marching to the north of Smolensk when d’Hilliers’ unfortunate experience to the south of the city should have informed him of the truth. Moreover, he still spoke of spending the winter at Vitebsk. On the 12th, the head of the column set out from Smolensk, but it was not until the 17th that Ney’s rear guard, reinforced to a strength of 6,000 men, quitted the city.
The Russians, meanwhile, seemed in little hurry to get to serious grips with their adversaries. A great deal of skirmishing and minor actions took place at various points along the column, but nothing really serious happened until the 17th. By that date Napoleon had been at Krasnoe for two days, waiting for his extended column to close up. He was not altogether satisfied with the situation, however, as is shown by the dispatch of two regiments of the Young Guard to aid Eugène’s IVth Corps, which was held up by Davidovitch at Nikulina for much of the 16th before finding a way round the block through Jomina. Indeed, his anxiety to ensure that the main road should remain open induced Napoleon to order an attack against Kutusov by the Guard on the morning of the 17th. At first he thought to entrust this operation to General Rapp, but then changed his mind and placed General Roguet of the Middle Guard in command. The operation was a complete success. The southbound French columns (16,000 strong) caught Kutusov completely unawares, so accustomed had he become to the idea of a passive French opponent. The Russian partisan leader, Davydov, fancifully recorded that “The Guard with Napoleon passed through our Cossacks like a hundred-gun ship through a fishing fleet,”15 and in no time the Russian commander in chief was ordering his 35,000 men to retreat south. The Russians subsequently tried to misrepresent the outcome of the action, claiming that “Bonaparte commanded in person and made the most vigorous exertions, but in vain; he was obliged to flee the field of battle.”16 But this was flagrant propaganda. It was Kutusov who had very much the worst of the encounter.
This action—known as the Battle of Krasnoe—is of significance for two reasons. First, it reveals the degree of moral ascendancy retained by Napoleon: his very name could clearly still strike terror into the hearts of his opponents; secondly, it proved the correctness of the decision not to send in the Imperial Guard at the later stages of Borodino, for had this formation been severely mauled near the River Moskva, it is unlikely that it could have pulled off this notable coup some eight weeks later. Strategically, the French attack at Krasnoe proved fully effective. It ensured that the road to the west remained open, allowed the greater part of the army (less Ney) to rejoin the Emperor by the evening of the 17th, and made the enemy warier than ever.
Napoleon, however, could not linger at Krasnoe to savor his success; cavalry reported that General Tormassov was already heading for Orsha and the Dnieper crossings, and the Emperor knew he must forestall him there. Consequently he ordered the retreat to recommence without delay, even though there was no sign or news of Marshal Ney. Faced with the choice of leaving his subordinate to fend for himself or facing almost certain disaster if Tormassov reached Orsha in force before him, Napoleon decided to abandon his rear guard in order to save the main body. So the march went on, and on the 19th the Emperor safely reached Orsha and found the bridges intact. But again he could not afford to pause; the previous day alarming news had arrived revealing that Minsk and the two million rations stored in its depots had fallen into enemy hands. This was an unanticipated blow; Napoleon had been relying on Schwarzenberg to keep this important replenishment point safe. Although the Emperor vented his wrath on his allies, accusing Austria of manifest treachery, the real reason for this disaster was General Sacken’s attack on Reynier carried out on the 15th. Schwarzenberg had heeded the VIIth Corps’ appeal for aid, and moved off southwest, thus leaving the door wide open for Tshitshagov to slip his main body between the French flank and center on the 16th and drive the hopelessly outnumbered French garrison at Minsk back toward Borisov.
There was now once more a real danger that the Russians would succeed in blocking the Grande Armée’s escape route at the Berezina. “This is beginning to be very serious,” the Emperor admitted to Caulaincourt. Napoleon accordingly gave orders that the pace of the army’s retreat should be increased. This involved reducing the army’s “tail” of convoys by wholesale destruction of wagons and equipment. Whether by accident or design the army’s pontoon train shared this fate alongside the carts of booty, a fact that was to complicate events a few days hence. The army, considerably lightened, then set out from Orsha on the 20th, leaving the smoking ashes of the trains behind it. Messengers were meanwhile galloping hell for leather to General Dombrowski, ordering him to retain hold of the Borisov bridgehead over the Berezina at all costs; to Oudinot, ordering a counterattack at Borisov for the 24th; and also to Victor, ordering him to form a defensive flank to the north of the town and there hold off General Wittgenstein’s army. That very day, as it happened, Victor was in action at Tschaschniki, but the outcome was indecisive.
By the evening of the 21st, Napoleon and the heads of his columns were at Kamienska, not far from Bobr, with the rear of his army (Eugene and Davout) still in the vicinity of Orsha. Then the whole army from the Emperor to the humblest private soldier heard an almost incredible piece of news which rallied both their spirits and confidence. The subject of this sensation was Marshal Ney, who suddenly materialized at Orsha late in the evening at the head of 900 survivors of his corps. Ever since the 17th the army had given up the IIIrd Corps as hopelessly lost, and this unexpected return from the grave greatly raised morale. According to de Ségur, Napoleon “leaped and shouted for joy, and exclaimed, ‘I have, then, saved my eagles! I would sooner have given three hundred millions from my treasury than lose such a man.’”17 The Emperor immediately bestowed on the gallant Gascon the soubriquet of “bravest of the brave.”
This honorable title was undoubtedly fully deserved, and it is fitting at this point to look back and see what had happened to the IIIrd Corps since its separation from the main army. An order, dated 14th November at Smolensk, had instructed Ney to continue his role of rear guard, and to demolish the city on the 17th prior to following the main a
rmy westward.18 On the 15th, however, Napoleon decided to hasten the speed of the retreat, but by some oversight this order was not transmitted to Ney, who accordingly held his ground until the date specified in his original instructions, whereas under the new circumstances he should have left Smolensk on the 16th. Thus a sizeable gap materialized between the IIIrd Corps and Davout’s command (the formation next ahead), and this appeared to doom Ney and his men to almost certain death, or at best capture. Nevertheless, he set out at the head of his 6,000 men, 12 guns and single cavalry squadron early on the 17th along the Krasnoe road.
From the first, his journey was beset with difficulties; there had been considerable snowfalls since the 5th, and the roads behind Napoleon’s column were in terrible condition after the army’s passage. Furthermore, the rear guard, last into Smolensk, had received less than its fair share of what scanty rations had been available, and its movement was seriously hampered by the hordes of desperate stragglers and the continuous harassing raids of Cossack partisans. Its rate of advance was consequently not very great, and by the time the IIIrd Corps reached Krasnoe on the 18th, Miloradovitch had found time to place a vastly superior force across its path. The Russian general sent out an emissary to demand Ney’s capitulation, but neglected to order his guns to cease fire during the parley. Ney’s reply was typical: “A Marshal never surrenders; there is no parleying under an enemy’s fire; you are my prisoner.”19 All attempts to break through the Russian position proved unavailing, however, and toward dusk Ney drew off his men to the village of Danikova, north of the road, and there built a large number of bivouac fires. But his men were to have no rest because as soon as it was dark they were on their way northward, heading for Syrokorense on the Dnieper; while their enemies, lulled into a sense of false security by their massive superiority of force and the sight of the glowing campfires to their front, failed to notice the escape. The going was terribly hard—only one inaccurate map was available—but by the dawn on the 19th Ney was well on his way. Of course, the Russians discovered their mistake at daybreak, and Platov was soon on his way at the head of a multitude of Cossacks accompanied by several batteries of horse artillery to wipe out the impudent French column. Ney calmly formed his men into square and, musket in hand, continued his course. Shortly after midnight, the IIIrd Corps reached Gusinoe on the riverbank, and next morning found a remnant of Ney’s men on the further side, but without their guns which they had been forced to abandon. Forty-five miles still separated them from Orsha, but throughout the 20th and the 21st, the march continued despite repeated Cossack attacks, all of which were repulsed by the gallant though rapidly dwindling band. Ney’s difficulties steadily increased, but a Polish officer got through to Eugène with an appeal for aid during the 20th, and the Viceroy was able to send out troops to cover the last stages of the Duke of Elchingen’s epic withdrawal.
Such dauntless courage and stubborn resolution inspired the whole army; Ney’s almost miraculous escape appeared a happy augury for the trials ahead. Much abuse was aimed at Marshal Davout for the callous way in which he had apparently abandoned the IIIrd Corps to its fate on the 15th, but Napoleon should also be made to shoulder some responsibility for pressing on for Krasnoe without extricating his subordinate, although his decision was probably the most realistic course under the circumstances.
However, the raising of the army’s spirits by this feat of arms rapidly evaporated when grave news came back from Borisov, reaching headquarters at Bobr on the 22nd. It appeared that General Dombrowski, after ten hours of gallant but hopeless resistance against three whole divisions of Tshitshagov’s army, had lost control of the vital bridgehead over the Berezina the previous day. This was devastating news, particularly as the Grande Armée was now deprived of its pontoon train. It appeared that the Russian jaws had shut tight behind them, and that Napoleon was hopelessly caught with an enemy-controlled river to this front, a large enemy army (Kutusov) moving in from the rear, and a third force (Wittgenstein) bearing down from the north. Such a critical situation called for further drastic measures. “The baggage trains will be reduced,” ran an Order of the Day dated Tolotchino, November 22. “All general officers or administrators who have several coaches will burn half of them and send the horses to the artillery park. The staff will see to it that this present order is executed.”20 The same day Napoleon’s state papers were destroyed. According to de Ségur, Napoleon had the eagles of all the corps brought to him and burned. He formed 1,800 dismounted cavalry of his Guard into two battalions, of whom only 1,150 could be armed with muskets or carbines.21 Five hundred officers who still retained their horses were banded together into a Sacred Squadron, full generals serving as troop commanders.
The prospect facing the Grande Armée was indeed extremely daunting. In this hour of dire emergency, however, Napoleon rose to the occasion and regained some of his former fire, so noticeably lacking over the previous months. “The Emperor rose superior to the mischances which had befallen him,” noted Caulaincourt. “These reverses, instead of disheartening him, brought out more than ever his characteristic energy; he showed what sublime courage and a brave army are capable of….”22 News of faraway successes against General Sacken won some days earlier by Schwarzenberg and Reynier helped to cheer him—as did tidings that Oudinot had come off decidedly best in a brush with part of Tshitshagov’s army on the plain of Loshnitsa (on the 23rd), which resulted in the capture of large quantities of Russian supplies besides 1,000 prisoners. This action also led to the French reoccupation of the township of Borisov itself, although the IInd Corps’ gallant attempts to regain the actual Berezina crossings proved abortive, and Tshitshagov was able to withdraw his discomfited legions to the western bank, destroying the bridges behind him.
Thus Napoleon’s overall situation remained as grave as ever. The bridges were gone and the Berezina appeared impassable. Normally in late November this river is hard frozen, but in 1812 the onset of an unexpected thaw on the 20th had crushed all hopes of passing over the surface of the ice. Indeed, the consequent increase in the volume of water caused the river to burst its banks and thus constitute an even larger obstacle, while deep morasses of mud made all movement on either bank extremely difficult. Finally, Admiral Tshitshagov drew up his men in a strong if extended position, running from the village of Brilli opposite Studienka to the town of Usha way beyond Borisov. The possibility of a successful French crossing, therefore, seemed very remote. In some desperation, the Emperor sent out several reconnaissance parties to survey the Berezina below Borisov in the hope of finding an unguarded bridge or ford. Their reports were not encouraging; every passage appeared effectively blocked.
As it transpired, however, good fortune had not entirely abandoned Napoleon and his starving multitude. The appearances of approaching disaster were stronger than the reality, for although the broad concepts of Russian strategy appeared to be on the point of successful realization, certain factors were steadily working in the Emperor’s favor. The Tsar had been pleased to approve the basic scheme of Russian operations on October 23, but from the beginning the proposals had not earned the heartfelt approbation of the man most concerned with their execution—Field Marshal Kutusov. The plan put forward by the Tsar’s palace strategists envisaged the destruction of Napoleon in three clearly defined stages. First, the French flanking forces (Victor, Oudinot and Wrede to the north of the main road and Schwarzenberg to its south) were to be driven back onto Napoleon’s main line of retreat by Wittgenstein (30,000) and Tshitshagov (34,000) from their respective sides. Secondly, these two Russian armies were to unite in the vicinity of Borisov and the upper Berezina to cut Napoleon’s path, while Kutusov, at the head of the main army some 80,000 strong, hastened up from the south and east to close the trap. Finally, the plan called for an all-out attack by all Russian forces with the object of completing the annihilation of the Grande Armée.
Until the third week of November, everything appeared to be going ahead fairly well from the Russian point of vi
ew. It was true that Schwarzenberg had moved out of the trap by his unexpected march to aid Reynier, but this had also removed him out of supporting distance of Napoleon and greatly facilitated Tshitshagov’s capture of Minsk and subsequently of the Borisov bridges. Similarly, on the northern flank, Wrede’s force about Gloubokoie was still outside Wittgenstein’s net, but both Oudinot and Victor were generally conforming with the requirements of the Russian master plan. At the same time, Kutusov’s main army was cautiously making its way over the Dnieper in Napoleon’s rear. Thus almost 140,000 Russians were closing in on Napoleon’s depleted forces.
These undeniable facts do not, however, reveal the whole story. In the first place, all three Russian armies were suffering almost as severely as the French from the varying weather conditions, and Kutusov’s supply position was hardly better than Napoleon’s. Indeed, it is estimated that Kutusov lost as many as 30,000 men through straggling and desertion before his men reached the vicinity of Berezina. Partly as a result of these adverse circumstances, and partly on account of the almost mystic aura of invincibility that still clung around the Emperor’s name, not one of the three Russian generals showed any overwhelming desire to try conclusions with Napoleon on a field of battle. There is considerable evidence that all three commanders dragged their heels in the days immediately preceding the battle of the Berezina, Kutusov most of all. The fighting reputation of the French army remained high, and the Russian forces still bore the scars of Maloyaroslavets, Viasma and Krasnoe to prove that the eagle’s beak and talons remained sharp even if its plumage was decidedly bedraggled. Furthermore, Kutusov entertained strong private doubts that Russia’s best interests would be served by the complete destruction of Napoleon’s forces. General Wilson, the British liaison officer attached to the Russian forces, reported one remark of the field marshal’s that supports this impression. “I am by no means sure that the total destruction of the Emperor Napoleon and his army would be such a benefit to the world; his succession would not fall to Russia or any other continental power, but to that which already commands the sea [England] whose domination would then be intolerable.”23
The Campaigns of Napoleon Page 102
