Fire and Sword r-3

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘Must have been a hard fight.’

  ‘Yes, sire. I have never seen my men so resolute. So brave.’

  Napoleon smiled. ‘I am equally certain that they have never seen a marshal fight at their side before.Your men are a credit to you, as you are to them.’

  Davout shrugged modestly. ‘We were fortunate, sire. The Prussians played their part as well. They were slow to attack, and when they did it was always piecemeal and poorly co-ordinated, so I was able to move men along my line to meet any dangers. But we were losing men all the time, sire, and Morand arrived only just in time to hold the left flank. But there was no sign of Bernadotte, and I heard nothing from him until noon, when a message arrived saying that he would not move without instructions from you, sire.’

  ‘Really?’ Napoleon folded his hands together. Bernadotte’s orders had been clear enough. He was to work in concert with Davout, with the latter acting as his immediate superior. His refusal to march to Davout’s aid could have led to the latter’s defeat and the victory at Jena would have amounted to nothing. Napoleon resolved to have Bernadotte called to account for his dangerous inactivity. ‘Continue.’

  ‘Yes, sire. Once I had all three of my divisions in line, I could see that the Prussians were still disorganised, and I decided that our best chance of survival lay in attack, so I ordered the corps to advance in the direction of Auerstadt. As we marched forward the enemy cavalry counter-attacked. But they could not break our squares, and for some reason they did not bring any guns or infantry forward to support their cavalry. By contrast, I kept our guns as far forward as I could and each time we encountered any attempt by the Prussians to make a stand, our guns cut them down and scattered their formations.’ Davout paused and rubbed his brow. ‘So it continued through the afternoon, as I was determined to push them back as far to the south as I could while my men were still capable of advancing. But by four o’clock it was all over. The Prussians were in full retreat. I could not mount a pursuit, sire. The only fresh units I had by then were three regiments of cavalry.’ He broke off and took a deep breath. ‘If Bernadotte had joined us, then it might have been different.’

  ‘Yes. I can see that,’ Napoleon said quietly. ‘But still, you tell an extraordinary story, Davout. It’s as fine a victory as any French general has achieved since the revolution.’

  Davout bowed his head.‘Thank you, sire. On behalf of all my officers and men.’

  ‘There is only the question of the butcher’s bill now. I can imagine your losses were severe.’

  ‘Yes, sire. Gudin’s division suffered worst. Nearly half his men have been lost. In all my corps has lost perhaps as many as seven and a half thousand men.’

  ‘And the enemy’s losses?’

  ‘When I set off from my headquarters we had accounted for a least ten thousand killed and three thousand prisoners.And we have captured over a hundred cannon.’

  ‘A fine result, Davout. I am proud of you and your men. I am sure that France will be equally proud when news of the victories at Jena and Auerstadt reaches Paris. Now I imagine you need some rest.’

  ‘Once I have attended to my wounded, fed my men and gathered weapons from the battlefield, sire.’

  ‘Of course, but at least enjoy your coffee and a quick meal with the other officers downstairs before you go. I am sure they will be as enthralled by your tale as I was.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  Once Marshal Davout had left the room, Napoleon’s expression hardened and he stared at the opposite wall until there was a knock and Berthier entered. ‘Sire? Do you wish me to summon the staff for the morning conference?’

  ‘In a moment. First, send a message to Bernadotte. Tell him the Emperor demands an explanation of his conduct yesterday. Marshal Bernadotte is required to justify the fact that his corps did not fire a single shot in anger yesterday when the rest of the Grand Army was inflicting a great defeat on the Prussians.’

  The Grand Army set off in pursuit of the enemy later the same morning. Murat’s cavalry led the way, followed by the columns of Ney and Soult. The shattered men of Davout’s and Lannes’s corps were permitted a day’s recuperation before they had to march swiftly to catch up with an advance column that had set off round the flank of the retreating Prussians in order to cut them off from Berlin.The only men fresh enough to lead the flanking force were those of Bernadotte’s corps and Napoleon reluctantly handed him the responsibility for the task. So it was over a week later before Napoleon finally caught up with the advance column and rode into Bernadotte’s headquarters. He swiftly dispensed with any formal greetings and offers of hospitality and demanded an interview with Bernadotte alone. As soon as the other officers had cleared out of the marshal’s office and closed the doors behind them, Napoleon took off his mud-stained cloak and tossed it one of the ornate couches that Bernadotte took with him on campaign, eased himself into the marshal’s chair and for a moment stared hard at his subordinate.

  Bernadotte stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, head slightly aloof and gleaming boots shoulder width apart. He was clean shaven and his uniform was spotless. It was dark outside and the room was lit by the candles burning in several gilded candelabras. Despite the heat of the fire in the grate and the comforting hue of the candlelight there was no warmth between the two men. Bernadotte returned the Emperor’s hostile gaze unflinchingly.

  ‘I assume this is about your request for an explanation of my actions at the recent battle, sire.’

  ‘No,’ Napoleon replied flatly. ‘I seek an explanation of your inaction. And I don’t request it, Marshal Bernadotte. I demand it. Why did you disobey Davout’s instruction to come to his aid?’

  Bernadotte smiled faintly.‘I am of the same rank as Davout. I am not obliged to obey his instructions.’

  ‘Yet I specifically directed you to take orders from him.’

  ‘A direction is not an order, sire. In any case, I was already obeying your orders in advancing towards Dornburg.’

  ‘That was written the previous day,’ Napoleon snapped back. ‘And it was superseded by the order to obey Davout.’

  ‘The order did not reach me until after I had set out for Dornburg.’

  ‘You dissemble, Marshal. Only your advance elements had begun to march.The rest of your corps had not even left their encampment.’

  Bernadotte frowned irritably. ‘I judged that it would be best to continue with my existing orders rather than cause any delay in my corps’s movement by rerouting the line of advance towards Davout. It was a professional judgement, sire. If you wish to hold me accountable for anything, then let it be for making an unfortunate decision for the right reasons.’

  Napoleon stabbed a finger towards him. ‘There was nothing professional about your judgement.You disobeyed an order.You endangered Davout and his entire corps and the snail’s pace of your advance towards Dornburg makes even the Prussians look quick-witted by comparison.’>

  Bernadotte shrugged dismissively. ‘There were certain difficulties along the route.’

  ‘That is a lie. I have had an officer retrace the route and he can find no explanation for the tardiness of your advance.’

  ‘The officer was not there on the day, sire. What could he know of the difficulties faced by my men? The roads were narrow and we were obliged to halt frequently to drive off enemy scouts.’

  ‘Good God, man! If the army stopped to fight every scout it encountered we would never advance far beyond the borders of France.’ Napoleon slapped a hand down on the table. ‘Your excuses are feeble, Marshal Bernadotte.You are guilty of a gross dereliction of duty and I can tell you that there is a widespread feeling in the army that you must be called to account, and punished severely.’ Napoleon reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a document and placed it in front of him. ‘Do you know what this is? An order for your court-martial. I have already signed it.’

  Bernadotte stared at the document and for the first time his arrogant composure slipped and Napoleon saw a flas
h of anxiety in his expression.

  ‘You mean to court-martial me?’

  ‘The army is expecting it,’ Napoleon replied coldly. ‘You deserve no less. I dare say that any trial before your peers would find you guilty.The other marshals would support such a verdict, and order that you be shot.’

  Bernadotte bit his lip. ‘You would countenance that?’

  ‘If that was the verdict of the court, what else could I do? I will not side with you against the will of the Grand Army.’

  Bernadotte took a half-step towards the table and gestured in the direction of the signed order.‘Sire, this is absurd. I am no traitor. I would never betray the interests of France. I am your loyal servant, and I am married to the sister of your brother Joseph’s wife.’

  It was a desperate gambit, and Napoleon could not help feeling contempt at such a naked appeal to place family concerns before national interest. He stared back at the miserable Bernadotte and let him suffer through a prolonged silence before he spoke again.

  ‘I have made my decision, Bernadotte. You have brought disgrace upon yourself, and upon your men, who little merit it. There is no question that you deserve to stand trial.’

  Bernadotte clasped his hands together. ‘Sire, I know I made an error of judgement, but I do not deserve this. I swear to you, on my life, that I will never let you down again. I swear it by all that I hold dear!’

  Napoleon’s lips curled in contempt for a moment, then he reached for the order and held it in his hands. He stared at the document for a moment before he spoke again. ‘I know full well that if I issue this it is the same as giving the order for you to be shot.’

  Napoleon stood up and walked slowly towards the fire. He ripped the order in two and tossed the pieces into the blaze. He watched as flames flared along the edges of the paper and a moment later there was nothing left of the document but charred flakes and ash.Then he turned back to Bernadotte and noted the amazed expression on the other man’s face.

  ‘You have made your great mistake in life, Bernadotte. Every man is entitled to one such error. There will be no more chances.You must atone for your failings with every breath of life that remains to you. If there is any sense of honour in you, then you will own up to your disgrace and see that neither I, nor any of your comrades, ever have cause to regret my leniency.’

  Napoleon picked up his coat and strode towards the door. Bernadotte finally managed to recover from his shock and surprise, and muttered, ‘Sire, I thank you with all my heart, and I swear you shall never regret this. I swear that I will devote my life to your service.’

  Napoleon paused at the door and looked back at the man, feeling sickened by his grovelling display of gratitude. ‘Very well. That is a promise I will hold you to as long as you live.’

  Bernadotte nodded gravely. ‘And it is one that I shall honour above all else, for ever.’

  Chapter 24

  Warsaw, January 1807

  Napoleon pulled the thick fur robe more closely about his shoulders as he stared into the fireplace. A servant had built the fire up before retiring and leaving him alone in the study.That had been over an hour ago, and the split logs had long since burned through. The charred timber was gilded with bright orange specks that pulsed slowly amid the slender fingers of flame flickering up from the heart of the fire. Outside, the wind moaned round the castle as the blizzard that had begun at dawn continued into the dusk, blanketing the city in a thick mantle of white snow. Winter gripped the land and across Poland the men of the Grand Army huddled in their billets and only ventured abroad to search for food and firewood, or when required for patrol and sentry duties.

  As the previous year had come to an end the Emperor had finally sent his army into winter quarters, before exhaustion and a sharp decline in morale caused it to fall apart. Despite the victories at Jena and Auerstadt and the subsequent pursuit of the remnants of the Prussian army until its almost complete destruction, the Prussians had not surrendered. Even as Marshal Davout had led his corps in triumph through the streets of Berlin the Prussian King, Frederick William, had fled east to join his Russian allies and continue the war against France. All that was left of his army was one rag-tag column scraped together from the survivors, barely a match for a single corps of the Grand Army. Yet, Napoleon knew, the Russians were massing formidable numbers of men to confront the French army once the worst of the winter had passed. Or so he had thought until the first reports of Russian movements had reached imperial headquarters. It seemed that the Russian soldiers were injured to the effects of winter and were already advancing towards the French outposts.

  Napoleon idly stroked his chin as he considered the situation. Berthier had updated his notebooks the previous night, and examining them the following morning Napoleon had been shocked to learn how his army had been ravaged by the onset of winter. Almost half of the men were absent from their units as they ranged across the frozen countryside stealing food and looting whatever valuables they discovered in the villages and estates surrounding Warsaw. Discipline was breaking down and already there had been reports of men killing officers and sergeants who had attempted to hold them back from committing the worst excesses.

  Napoleon had been shocked by the backwardness of Poland compared to the rest of Europe. There were few good roads, and those that existed became impassable the moment the autumn rains turned their surfaces into a glutinous mire that sucked down the wheels of wagons and cannon and made an effort of every step taken by men and horses. Such conditions meant it was impossible to bring supplies forward and Napoleon had been forced to call a halt to operations. It had been his intention to wait until spring came to continue his advance against the Russians, but it looked as if his hand would be forced if the Russians decided to attack while Poland was still in the grip of winter.

  Life was not hard for all the men of the Grand Army. Those at imperial headquarters, and the men of the Imperial Guard quartered in Warsaw, were comfortable enough, and had plenty of diversions to entertain them through the winter. For many years the Poles had suffered at the hands of their Russian, Austrian and Prussian neighbours and they had greeted the French as liberators. Napoleon had been pleased to play such a role and had made every effort to befriend them and offer promises of independence once the Russians had been driven out of Polish territory. Thousands of Poles had already volunteered to serve with the French and Napoleon needed the reinforcements. But if his men continued to plunder the countryside the Grand Army would not be welcome for much longer. While the soldiers could march swiftly when they lived off the land it did mean that they tended to operate like a plague of locusts, leaving discontent and hunger in their wake. Napoleon frowned as he considered the matter. If he attempted to supply his men on the march, it could only be achieved by advancing more slowly, and operating with smaller armies with which it would be impossible to overwhelm the nations that opposed him.

  In any case, however an army was supplied, it could not hope to march far and fight in the depths of such a winter. Napoleon leaned forward in his chair, closer to the fire, and stretched his hands out to warm them. For a moment he cursed his enforced stay in Warsaw. But only for a moment as his thoughts turned to the young countess, Marie Walewska, who had arrived in Warsaw a few days earlier. Her breathtaking beauty had instantly captured the attention of the French officers at headquarters, and Napoleon had felt his heart quicken when she was introduced to him at a ball given in his honour. They had talked briefly, then he had invited her to join him for a late supper after the ball, and before midnight had struck they were in each other’s arms beneath several blankets in the Emperor’s bed. She was as good a lover as he had ever known and he felt his lust return as he recalled the smoothness of her skin, the gentle curves of her limbs and the smooth fullness of her breasts. He resolved to send for her again that very night.

  There was a knock on the door and with a hiss of frustration he thrust Marie from his mind and turned away from the fire.

  ‘Yes? What
is it?’

  The door clicked open as a young staff officer stepped into the room and bowed neatly. ‘Sire, a deputation from the senate in Paris has arrived.’

  ‘A deputation? What on earth are they doing here?’

  ‘They requested an audience with you, sire.’

  ‘Now?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘No. Let them rest for the night. They must have had an arduous journey. Let them rest.’

  The officer hesitated a moment before he continued,‘Sire, they were insistent on seeing you tonight.They are led by your brother Lucien.’

  At the mention of his brother Napoleon was tempted to change his mind. Lucien would not have made such a trip without good cause, but Napoleon was too weary to contemplate any business of state that evening. Besides, the prospect of another evening making love to Marie Walewska was more than enough reason to defer meeting Lucien and his senatorial companions until morning. Napoleon cleared his throat.

  ‘Welcome them to headquarters in my name. Feed them and find them the finest quarters available. Find out why they are here and report on that to me by tomorrow morning. Is that clear?’