Peter the Great

by Robert K. Massie

  men would not be there. Before the main Battle of Poltava had begun, six battalions, one third of the Swedish infantry, had been annihilated to no purpose. The disaster can be blamed on Roos for persisting too long, or on Rehnskjold for not trusting his officers and briefing them more thoroughly before battle began. But the real fault was that the brain of the Swedish army was missing. The clear, unhurried, commanding mind which all Swedes obeyed without question simply was not functioning at the Battle of Poltava.

  As soon as Rehnskjold, waiting with the King and other officers, discovered the absence of Roos' force, he sent a messenger back to find out what had happened. The messenger returned to report that Roos was still attacking the first redoubts and was in difficulty. Rehnskjold hurriedly dispatched two cavalry regiments and two additional infantry battalions to Roos' aid. Meanwhile, the main body of the Swedish army could only wait. The Swedes were standing within cannon range about one mile from the northwest corner of the Russian camp, fully exposed to the enemy. Inevitably, the Russian artillery shifted its fire onto them. The cannonballs began to take a toll of heads, arms, legs; one ball killed two Guardsmen standing near the King. Another ball hit the King's stretcher. For the officers in the vicinity, this was an added concern; in addition to their other worries and responsibilities, they were forced to worry about the King's safety. Under this fire, some of the Swedish infantry was moved south into the wooded terrain of Maly Budyschi to find cover from the Russian guns. It was at this point that Lewenhaupt and the others fervently regretted the decision to leave most of the meager Swedish artillery behind. The Swedes had only four field guns to answer the seventy cannon firing from the Russian camp.

  After an hour had passed, Sparre, who had led the two Swedish infantry battalions to Roos' relief, returned with his men to report that it had been impossible to break through the large Russian force which surrounded Roos. Accordingly, he had followed his orders and returned.

  Rehnskjold was now in an increasingly perilous situation. He had stormed through the redoubts as planned. In a major cavalry action, his squadrons had triumphed and driven the Russian cavalry from the field. But now the tide had begun to shift. The momentum of his initial charge had been expended, and surprise was lost. For two hours, he had been forced to wait under heavy enemy fire for two wandering divisions of infantry, Lewenhaupt's and Roos', to join the main body. Lewenhaupt's had now arrived, but Roos' men apparently were lost. To fill the gap, Rehnskjold sent messengers back to the main Swedish camp before Poltava, ordering the reserve battalion guarding the baggage to hasten forward, bringing artillery. But these messengers never got through. There were no reinforcements, either for the depleted Swedish infantry or for the four Swedish cannon.

  It was nearing nine a.m., and Rehnskjold had to make a decision. He had waited two hours for reinforcements which apparently were not coming. He could not stay where he was; he had to move. Three choices were open to him. He could move north, attack the Russian cavalry again, attempt to break through and seize the Petrovka ford, hold it and starve the Russians out of their camp. The flaw in this plan was that his small force, already vastly outnumbered, would be divided between Petrovka and Poltava without hope of mutual reinforcements; should Peter decide to go over to the offensive, he could move against one of these Swedish forces without the intervention and possibly even the knowledge of the other. Another choice was to carry out the. original plan and attack the entrenched Russian army still waiting untouched behind the earth ramparts of its camp. But this meant that the dwindling Swedish army would have to attack straight across the plain, into the mouths of dozens of Russian cannon which were already cutting through the Swedish ranks. Once over the trench and onto the ramparts, the Swedes would have to deal with 30,000 Russian infantrymen who were waiting inside.

  The third alternative was the one that Rehnskjold chose: to retreat. His strength was too small and the odds too great. He meant to go back through the redoubts, relieving Roos and adding his strength as he passed through the redoubts, and as he moved back to the original launching point of the dawn attack, he would summon the battalions guarding the baggage train, those in the trenches before Poltava and those patrolling the river crossings below the city. Then, with the Swedish infantry back to twenty-four battalions instead of the twelve he now commanded, he would decide where next to fight the Tsar.

  But just as Rehnskjold's men were starting to execute these orders, abandoning their long line of battle and forming into marching columns, an astonishing thing began to happen. Swedish officers watching the Russian camp noted that the whole Russian army seemed to be in motion. The entrances to the camp were open, the bridges over the defensive trench were down, and over these bridges Russian infantry in great strength was pouring out of the entrenchments and forming up in order of battle in front of the camp. For the first time in this war, the main Russian army was preparing to fight the main Swedish army in the presence of both Peter and Charles.

  The Russian movement proceeded swiftly and smoothly, evidence of the training and discipline which now marked Peter's army. When the deployment was completed, a long, thick, shallow crescent containing tens of thousands of men and horses faced westward against the Swedes. On the Russian right, Bauer now commanded the Russian cavalry, eighteen regiments of dragoons, in uniforms of red and green. At the opposite tip of the crescent were six more dragoon regiments commanded by Menshikov, who typically had singled himself out by wearing white. In the center of the line stood the massed battalions of green-coated Russian infantry under Sheremetev and Repnin. General Bruce, commander of the Russian artillery, had divided his guns. Some remained on the earth rampart of the camp to fire over the heads of the Russian army, while other cannon served by red-coated artillerymen were wheeled into the front rank of the Russian line to greet any Swedish attack with devastating close-range fire.

  Peter was on horseback with the infantry of the Novgorod regiment on the Russian left. He rode his favorite horse, a dun-colored Arabian that had been sent to him by the Sultan. His saddle that day was green velvet over leather, embroidered with silver thread; his reins and tack were of black leather and gold fittings. The Tsar's uniform was similar to that of many of his officers: a black, three-comered hat, high black boots and the bottle-green coat of the Preobrazhensky Regiment with red sleeves and trim. Only the blue silk ribbon of the Order of St. Andrew distinguished the sovereign. The troops around Peter, three veteran battalions of Novgorodians, were wearing gray coats and black hats. This was a ruse, proposed by the Tsar. Normally, gray coats were worn only by inexperienced troops, but Peter had chosen to dress several of his best battalions in gray that day, hoping to fool the Swedes into attacking that part of the Russian line.

  The new position of the Russian army in front of its camp posed a further dilemma for Rehnskjold. The Swedish infantry had already moved out of its line of battle and was in column formation, preparing to march back south in search of Roos. If he began to move in this formation and the Russians attacked, it would be not a battle but a massacre. It was impossible to ignore the possibility, and Rehnskjold quickly decided to halt his withdrawal, turn and fight. Once more, the Swedish infantry wheeled to form a line of battle against the Russians.

  Rehnskjold and Lewenhaupt then consulted and went to report to Charles that Peter was bringing out his infantry. "Would it not be best if we attacked the cavalry first and drove that off?" Charles asked. "No," Rehnskjold replied, "we must go against the infantry." The King was lying down and unable to see. "Well," he said, "you must do as you think best."

  By ten a.m., the Swedish army had deployed into a battle line against the Russians. The Swedish cavalry was placed behind the infantry, not on the wings as Peter's cavalry was stationed. Lewenhaupt's infantry force now numbered only twelve battalions, scarcely 5,000 men. Opposite them stood two packed lines of Russian infantry, each one longer and stronger than his single line. The first Russian line consisted of twenty-four battalions, 14,000 men; the second li
ne was made up of eighteen battalions, 10,000 men. (Nine infantry battalions remained as a reserve inside the Russian camp.) The superiority in numbers and firepower made the contest seem absurd: 5,000 infantry exhausted by hunger and fatigue, with no artillery, about to attack 24,000 men supported by seventy cannon. Lewenhaupt's only hope was the old tactic of delivering a hard blow on a single part of the Russian line, hoping to break through, spread confusion and thus roll up the far larger force.

  At this moment, the old quarrel between the two principal Swedish commanders came to an end. Rehnskjold rode up to Lewenhaupt, who had to lead the attack in the face of almost hopeless odds. Taking him by the hand, the Field Marshal said, "Count Lewenhaupt, you must go and attack the enemy. Bear yourself with honor in His Majesty's service." Lewenhaupt asked whether it was Rehnskjold's command that he begin the attack immediately. "Yes, at once," the commander-in-chief replied. "In God's name, then, and may His grace be with us," said Lewenhaupt. He gave the signal to move forward. With drums beating, the famous Swedish infantry marched into its last battle.

  The force was pitifully small: twelve battalions strung out side by side in a thin line with gaps between the battalions to make the advancing line as wide as possible.

  Ignoring the odds, the blue-clad Swedish line briskly advanced across the field. At is approached, the Russian artillerymen doubled their rate of fire, sending their whistling cannonballs to chop bloody holes in the Swedish ranks. Still the Swedes came forward, following their blue-and-yellow flags. As they got closer, the Russian infantry began firing volleys of musket balls into the shredded Swedish line; nevertheless, the unflinching Swedes kept coming, without returning a single shot. Led by the Guards, the Swedish battalions on the right finally reached and violently assaulted the first Russian rank. With stabbing swords and thrusting bayonets, the Swedes broke through, driving the Russians before them, capturing the forward Russian cannon which had been firing at them as they advanced across the field. Within a few minutes, the guns were turned and firing into the confused, wavering—and now retreating—Russian first line.

  At this stage, having achieved his first objective and pierced a part of the enemy line, Lewenhaupt looked around for the Swedish cavalry which should have come up quickly to exploit his breakthrough. But no Swedish cavalry was to be seen. Instead, through the haze of smoke which covered the battlefield, Lewenhaupt could see that the Swedish battalions on his left wing were in grave difficulty. There, the Russian artillery, concentrated earlier in this sector to provide protective fire for the Russian cavalry massed to the north, had leveled the muzzles of its cannon directly at the advancing Swedes. The fire was so intense and deadly that the Swedish ranks were simply shot to pieces; half the men were scythed down before they even reached the Russian infantry. Between this faltering left wing and the battalions on the right—which were still pressing ahead, preparing to attack the second Russian line of infantry—a gap opened. And the farther the Swedish right wing advanced, plunging forward toward the second Russian line, the wider, the gap became.

  Standing with the Novgorod regiment at exactly this point on the field, Peter also saw what was happening. He observed that the Swedish army had divided into two separate armies: the left wing held at bay, suffering terribly from his artillery, and in no position to threaten the Russian right wing; and the Swedish right, still plunging forward, deeper into his lines, about to reach the waiting second line of Russian infantry. Even as he watched, the gap grew wider. Into this gap, Peter dispatched his own infantry in overwhelming numbers.

  It happened as Peter hoped and as Lewenhaupt feared. It was

  the Swedish line which now was broken; it was the Russian infantry which would advance and roll up the broken enemy line in a sweeping counterblow. Unhindered by the presence of any Swedish cavalry, the Russian infantry began to envelop the Swedish right wing. The momentum of the Swedish attack actually helped Peter's strategy: As the thrust of the Swedish charge carried it forward, plunging deeper into the Russian mass, other Russian battalions moving through the gap in the Swedish line simply flowed around and to the rear. The farther the Swedes pressed forward, the more hopelessly engulfed they became in the sea of Russian soldiers. Eventually, the forward moment of the Swedish charge was broken, its shock absorbed by the sheer mass of Russian soldiers.

  Swedish cavalry finally arrived, but not the full weight of Rehnskjold's disciplined squadrons. Only fifty Swedish horsemen appeared, troopers of the Household Cavalry, who rode with flashing swords into the middle of the Russian infantry. All were quickly shot, speared or dragged from their saddles. Engulfed and overwhelmed, the Swedes attempted to retreat, at first with stubborn discipline and then, as panic spread, in wild disorder. With most of his officers dead or dying, Lewenhaupt rode up and down his crumbling Swedish line, trying to make his men stand fast. "I begged, threatened, cursed and hit out, but all was in vain," he remembered later. "It was as if they neither saw nor heard me."

  Throughout this part of the battle, the tall figure of Peter was conspicuous among the Russian troops. Although his height made him an obvious target, he ignored the danger and spent his energies directing and encouraging his men. That he was not wounded was remarkable, for he was hit three times during the battle. One musket ball knocked his hat off, another lodged in his saddle, while the third actually struck him in the chest but was deflected by an ancient silver icon which he wore on a chain around his neck.

  Within a few minutes, the Swedish attack had dissolved, although separate units continued to fight. The Swedish Guards battled with their usual doggedness. They died where they stood, and the Russian torrent poured over them. Whole companies of Swedes, were surrounded and fell together as the Russians rushed over them, killing with pike, sword and bayonet and leaving them piled in heaps.

  Where was the Swedish cavalry? Again, perhaps, it missed the touch of its master, Rehnskjold, now trying to command the entire army. On the Swedish right, the cavalry was late in deploying and Lewenhaupt's infantry began to advance before the cavalry was ready to follow up. Then, as the squadrons began moving foward, their movement was obstructed by difficult terrain. On the left, the Swedish cavalry was distracted by its assignment to screen the battlefield from the mass of Russian cavalry poised to the north. When some of the Swedish cavalry regiments finally came to the aid of the hard-pressed infantry, they found that, rather than giving help, they soon needed it themselves. The regiments charging the Russian lines were cut to ribbons by the same enormous volume of Russian cannon and musket fire which had decimated the infantry.

  And so, for another half an hour, it continued—glorious for Peter, disastrous for Charles. Most of the Swedish infantry which had crossed the field into the Russian lines was simply destroyed. Rehnskjold, seeing what was happening, shouted to Piper, "All is lost!" Plunging into the thickest area of the fight, he was soon made prisoner.

  Charles himself was in the midst of the disaster. When the collapse came, the King did his best to rally the panicking Swedes, but his thin cry of "Swedes! Swedes!" went unheeded. The Russian fire was so intense that "men, horses and boughs of trees all fell to the ground." Twenty-one of the King's twenty-four litter-bearers were cut down and the stretcher itself was hit and shattered. For a moment, with no bearers, it looked as if the King would be captured. Then, an officer dismounted and Charles was lifted into the saddle. The bandage on his foot came loose and blood dripped from the reopened wound. The horse was shot from under him and another supplied. Thus, the King made his way back to the Swedish lines with his wounded foot bleeding profusely, resting on the horse's neck. Presently, the King fell in with Lewenhaupt. "What are we to do now?" Charles asked. "There is nothing to do but try to collect the remains of our people," replied the General. Under his direction, the remnants of the infantry, covered by the cavalry, which still was relatively intact, retreated south through the redoubts to the temporary safety of the camp at Pushkarivka. As the shattered army withdrew, the reserve regiments and th
e artillery as well as Mazeppa's and Gordeenko's Cossacks were placed in defensive positions around the camp to ward off any Russian pursuit. By noon, most of the beaten army had reached camp and the exhausted men could rest. Lewenhaupt, parched and hungry, ate a piece of bread and drank two glasses of beer. .

  To the north, on the battlefield, the last shots had been fired and the field had fallen silent. Peter, exuberant, had given thanks in a service on the battlefield and then had gone to dinner. The Battle of Poltava was over.

  38

  SURRENDER BY THE RIVER

  The battlefield was a place of carnage. The Swedish army which had begun the battle 19,000 stronghad left 10,000 men on the field, including 6,901 dead and wounded and 2,760 prisoners. Among these losses were 560 officers—300 dead and 260 captured, the latter including Field Marshal Rehnskjold, Prince Max of Wurttemberg, four major generals and five colonels. Count Piper, who was with the King all day, became separated from him in the final melee and wandered about the battlefield with two secretaries until finally he made his way up to the gates of Poltava and surrendered.