by Alan Schom
At a war council on August 6, the Russian high command finally decided it was time to stop withdrawing. Not only would they stand and fight, they would also launch a powerful counteroffensive, as Barclay, with 650 guns, marched 118,000 men west of Smolensk along the Dnieper. Once again the Russian plan failed, however, due to jealousy of command, Bagration refusing to close and coordinate his efforts with his rival Barclay. In fact Bagration advanced only hesitatingly, finally refusing any effective cooperation whatsoever. As a result the Russians ordered a temporary halt, which permitted Napoleon to advance in two columns along a fifteen-mile front heading toward the Dnieper, while sending another force to secure the Smolensk-Moscow Road, with the intention of cutting off the Russian line of retreat.
During the night of August 13-14, French engineers threw four substantial pontoon bridges across the Dnieper, and by dawn most of Napoleon’s army was already across. The Russians under Barclay began wavering, and after a few days withdrew to the east, back to Smolensk, leaving one crack division of 9,500 men under General Neveroski to guard the Dnieper and bar the main road to that city.
Barclay ordered General Rayevski’s 20,000 troops and seventy-two guns to occupy Smolensk and hold off the French until Barclay’s and Bagration’s armies could fully reinforce them and the city walls. Bagration, still holding himself aloof well to the east of the city, and completely separated from Barclay’s force, refused to cooperate, however, leaving Barclay with only the vague consolation of knowing that two more large Russian armies would soon be on the move to aid them, including those of Finland (Russia was now at peace with Sweden) and Moldavia (thanks to the Treaty of Bucharest). But Russian armies were notoriously slow and cumbersome, and the distances to be covered vast. Barclay de Tolly understood this only too well.
Once over the Dnieper, Napoleon launched Murat’s still-powerful cavalry, Ney’s corps, the Imperial Guard, and Prince Eugène’s army toward Smolensk, while to the south Davout formed a second column comprising I, V, and III Corps, as Latour-Maubourg’s reserve cavalry executed a diversionary attack down the Dnieper. But barring the Orsha-Rosasna Road stood General Neveroski’s crack division, formed in a powerful square. Murat, who had apparently forgotten the lesson the French squares had given the Mameluke cavalry at the Battle of the Pyramids, charged the square, time after time, to no avail. Contrary to orders. Ney was forced to intervene and stop the useless carnage of Murat’s irreplaceable cavalry. Murat and Ney had not been on speaking terms for years, however, and Murat adamantly refused to clear the road for Ney’s infantry, regardless of orders and pleas from GHQ to do so. Murat would show them. He could do it all alone. The result was that Murat’s cavalry took a severe mauling and was forced back with grievous losses. And as the French did not have artillery with them at this point, they could not bombard the otherwise vulnerable Russian square. General Neveroski therefore succeeded in attaining his objective of delaying the French advance, as Barclay strengthened his position in and to the north of Smolensk.
By dawn on August 16 the French began arriving around the massive walls of ancient Smolensk, and by the next day the battle was on, Murat’s greatly weakened cavalry and Poniatowski’s corps attacking the city from the southwest; next to them Davout’s I and Ney’s III Corps to the north of Davout sealing off everything to the banks of the Dnieper itself, while Barclay’s main force remained one mile away on the northern side of the Dnieper, protected by several powerful artillery batteries. Bagration, who made no real attempt to protect Smolensk — or Barclay — crossed the Kolodnia River and fled eastward toward Lubno and Moscow, while General Doctorov, now in charge of Smolensk’s city defenses, was slowly being encircled and crushed by the overwhelming French numbers. Throughout the following day Doctorov held on grimly, still denying the French access to the city. If that Russian commander suffered up to fourteen thousand casualties, yet he held off Napoleon, who, surprisingly, showed very little vigor in his attack. It was bewildering. Napoleon did not even bother to send a strong force to occupy the empty miles separating Bagration from Barclay. As for Doctorov, he successfully withdrew from the burning city and finally rejoined Barclay’s main position to the north. Murat’s two cavalry corps gave pursuit on August 19, as Barclay’s force, still well north of the Dnieper, hastily withdrew eastward. The French pursuit was maintained by Ney in the direction of Gorbunovo, crossing the Kolodnia also in the direction of Lubno; Davout and Ney followed in a more direct line along the Smolensk-Lubno Road. “In a month,” Napoleon had earlier pronounced, “we will be in Moscow. In six weeks a peace treaty will be signed.” But as Caulaincourt admitted, “This prophetic tone of his did not convince a soul,” nor was it fulfilled.
By August 24, with more negative reports just received from Spain, including that of Wellington’s decisive defeat of Marshal Marmont at Salamanca a few weeks earlier, Napoleon nevertheless gave the order for yet another final drive against the gathering Russian army now at Borodino, the last large city between them and Moscow. Marshal Kutuzov, obese and infirm, was a Russian born and bred, and a determined fighter. If, as Clausewitz claimed, he “no longer possessed either the activity of mind or body of yore...nevertheless he knew the Russians, and how to handle them.”[764] Czar Alexander had just appointed Kutuzov to supersede the disappointing Barclay, despite Kutuzov’s irascible reputation, but because he remained the one Russian general capable of commanding the respect of his officers and troops alike, and because of his unflagging determination to fight. Napoleon, only too familiar with Kutuzov and aware of the significance of the demotion of Barclay, thought the long-awaited confrontation with the czar’s army now definitely lay ahead at Borodino. “His genius was slow, vindictive, and crafty,” de Ségur informed Napoleon, but he was the first real Russian opponent they had met, and thus the French resumed their seemingly endless march eastward, along the road to Borodino, nearing their objective by September 5.
The French camp, which still totaled some 166,000 men and cavalry and 587 guns before setting out on this trek, had by the time they reached Borodino been reduced to 131,000 men and cavalry. Morale and divisions within the French command and in the ranks were already at a dangerous level. The physical and mental condition of Napoleon’s men of all ranks could be described at best as fast fading as malnutrition, illness, and a despairing homesickness made rapid inroads.
The lack of cooperation between some of Napoleon’s senior commanders continued to be appalling. This was aggravated by the open mutual distrust and dislike between Napoleon and Murat, and then Murat’s outrageous refusal to allow Ney’s corps to advance to meet the enemy. Next a veritable shouting match between the brash Murat and the unmovable Davout at Smolensk over a difference in tactical use of Murat’s cavalry. Davout, a difficult man, was nonetheless by far the most brilliant military commander, second only to Napoleon, whereas Murat was hardly on an intellectual par with Davout. Indeed Murat had made blunders with his mismanagement of the army’s precious but fast-disappearing cavalry, now reduced effectively to perhaps 28,000 as they approached Borodino. As for Berthier, neither Ney, Murat, nor Davout could stomach the man, feelings that Berthier, as chief of staff, was in a powerful position to reciprocrate with a malign vengeance.
Finally there was Napoleon himself. Time and again he had been advised, even by the sometimes surprisingly timid Berthier, that this entire campaign had been an unconscionable error, that they should never have crossed the Niemen, that the French general staff could no longer cope, that their lines of supply and communications were dangerously overstretched, that less than one-third of the original Grande Armée were French-born, the rest “allies” supporting them in a war that not a single one among them had wanted and from which they had everything to lose and nothing to gain. In brief, if it came to a down-and-out battle, Berthier assured Napoleon that the French could count on no one but themselves, and already tens of thousands of deserters, malingerers, and genuinely ill troops were daily depleting the effective fighting force while un
dermining the mental attitude of even the more robust of commanders. This was now compounded by Napoleon’s own growing anxiety over this campaign, which he had initially hoped to complete within the first thirty days, and had then reluctantly revised to “two months” — and that was back in May. It was now September, with temperatures still mild but beginning to fall during the night, adding to the daily death toll and reduced muster roll every morning. Not only was Napoleon rightly anxious, with the terrible news from Iberia — a military theater he now realized he personally had to rush back to if he was to save it at all — but he was tired, suffering from hemorrhoids, a lingering cold, a painful urinary infection, and the burning pain of his gastric ulcer piercing his side, forcing him more and more to hold his right hand in that famous “pose,” inside his jacket over the left side. Every time his horse slipped in the heavily-rutted roads and he was thrown, he was reminded that he was now forty-three and had spent the better part of the last twenty-seven years as a soldier. For the first time in his career he was beginning to feel old, and tired of his own profession. Indeed, all the signs appeared to be against him. Thus it had to be Borodino, now or never, the battle to decide the fate of the latest war he himself had chosen to inflict on Russia, France, and Europe, in the face of all opposition.
The Russians’ numbers were now temporarily reduced as well, they having left a long train of dead and wounded in the burning ruins of Smolensk and by desertion. Kutuzov could marshal effectively perhaps 106,000 men (including 24,000 crack cavalry still in superb condition, unlike their weakened and dispirited French counterparts), but only 82,000 infantry, perhaps 90,000 at most, including untrained militia just brought up. The Russian high command was weak, disunited, and communicating very badly, each army more or less on its own, with almost independent commanders. But Kutuzov not only outgunned Napoleon, he had the advantage of doing at Borodino what Napoleon had done at Austerlitz, and doing it better: getting there first and choosing his own battlefield.
The small town of Borodino was situated on the west bank of the snaking Kalatsha River, which, continuing a few miles north of the town, then joined with Moskva River. In addition there were several smaller rivers and streams dissecting the region, particularly along the bluffs and steep banks of the Latsha River Valley, with its numerous hills and dispersed woods. With Moscow only seventy-two miles to the east, the czar’s command still ringing in his ears, Kutuzov had to act with vigor, and this he did. He built redoubts and batteries all along the commanding hills and crests, with Platov’s and Uvarov’s cavalry securing the northernmost point of his right flank on the east side of the Kalatsha. From his headquarters at nearby Gorki, Kutuzov ordered his generals to surround the city. The southern flank numerically was the weakest link in the Russian line, as the commanding hilltops and river bluffs and dispersed wood cover gave way to open plains. As for the Russian Imperial Guard, or V Corps, under the Archduke Constantine, it remained behind the lines in reserve. Kutuzov had found a far superior defensive position than Napoleon had at Austerlitz. Here French cavalry, cannon, and mass troop movements were automatically thwarted by the terrain.
Finally in place on September 5 and 6, Napoleon deployed his troops before the Russians. While his engineers built five pontoon bridges over the Kalatsha River, Bonaparte finalized his plans. The most obvious offensive was to launch a sweeping cavalry thrust, supported by infantry well to the north of Borodino. But facing them were the Cossack cavalry, while Murat’s much reduced cavalry was by now in mediocre condition. Attacking from the north would have involved greater distances, with the added problems of fording the river and climbing the steep banks of the Kalatsha. The other obvious place for attack lay along the old Smolensk-Moscow Post Road, which traversed the southernmost and comparatively weakest Russian flank. Once past the initial hills bristling with artillery, into the opening plains, Davout argued, he could strongly hit the exposed flank, swing around and envelop it, thus turning the Russian line. What was more, Davout pointed out, the mighty Russian guns were dug in and aimed facing the west, not the south or southeast.
Napoleon insisted that this operation was too risky, given his reduced strength, and instead planned a headlong drive straight through the center of Kutuzov’s heavily defended line. Given Napoleon’s weakness of numbers, it was hardly a wise counterproposal. Dividing an enemy line always resulted in heavy losses, and they were facing a particularly tough Russian line. Compounding his error, Napoleon established his most powerful artillery pieces, 120 guns in three large batteries, just out of effective range. Never before had Bonaparte, above all the great artillery officer, made such a colossal miscalculation. As the opening guns at 6:00 A.M. on September 7, 1812, announced the French attack, Napoleon realized his error, and in midbattle, amid much confusion, had to redeploy all 120 cannon, which involved bringing up the horse handlers, limbers, gun crews, supplies of powder, cannonballs, and so on, all under enemy fire.
“Soldiers! This is the battle you have so longed for! Victory now depends on you, and we do need this victory! Through it we will gain plenty of supplies and warm winter quarters, and a prompt return to France...Let it be said, ‘He partook in the great battle beneath the walls of Moscow!’” Napoleon proclaimed at Borodino.
Morale in the Russian army had strongly revived now, thanks to Kutuzov’s presence, not to mention the proximity of Moscow, the religious capital of Russia. The French were hardly enthusiastic, most of them hungry and all more or less anxious and demoralized as every day saw them ever more distant from France and their numbers reduced by the thousand every week, while knowing themselves to be hundreds of miles deep in the heart of eastern Europe, cut off from all help. If Napoleon finally had the great battle he had been longing for, it had come too late. It was a battle he probably should never have accepted, but unable even to admit an error or defeat, he felt he had no choice but to order the opening salvos, shattering the morning stillness.
Eugène’s corps easily overran Borodino’s nominal Russian garrison. But Davout, who had been placed to the left-center of the Russian line — the very position he had so adamantly argued against attacking — found himself battering against a solid Russian wall of grit, guns, and bayonets, just as he had predicted.
Less than an hour after the initial French attack, Kutuzov launched a massive counteroffensive, throwing back Davout, Eugène, and the French line, wounding Davout and General Rapp in the process, inflictng four more wounds on the courageous Ney (making him eligible for the Order of the Three Fleeces), not to mention killing several French generals, including the valiant cavalry commander Montbrun and his successor as well, Gen. Auguste de Caulaincourt, Armand’s brother. So severe was the monumental blast from all along the Russian line that by 8:30 A.M. Napoleon had been forced to commit Junot’s reserve corps. It was almost another Eylau, Bonaparte fighting for his very existence despite the inferior Russian numbers. The French had been repulsed from left to right. Davout’s plan would have avoided this. But there was always a great intellectual-military rivalry between Bonaparte and Davout, and Bonaparte would never admit that someone might have a plan superior to his own. Indeed, he attempted a similar headlong thrust through the very center of the enemy later at Waterloo...
After recoiling in confusion, just before 10:00 A.M. Napoleon’s right flank launched another attack, only to be thrown back by the highly motivated patriots of Bagration’s troops and their three hundred big guns. Napoleon had never seen anything like it. “The huge Russian redoubt belched out a veritable hell against our center,” Caulaincourt reported. Napoleon was further hampered by the superb defensive position taken by Kutuzov, which everywhere divided the French forces into tightly packed narrow columns, leaving no large open space for the intimidating full-line attack Bonaparte so favored, and when the narrow French columns did advance, they were mowed down by superb Russian sharpshooters and a devastating artillery. Nor could French cavalry advance easily in most areas, given river barriers, streams, woods, hills, and
narrow valleys, although the Russians, too, paid a very heavy price for their valor in defending their country, including the loss of Marshal Bagration himself, as the Russian army was finally forced back to consolidate its position. The French pushed hard along the southern and northern Russian flanks, but soon the equality of the two armies simply ended in stalemate.
Throughout the battle Napoleon refused to commit his Old Guard, despite the appeals for their help by all the French commanders. Finally, slowly pulling himself together, he gathered four hundred French guns to concentrate on the principal Russian redoubt, blasting away the seemingly impregnable Russian position.
Armand de Caulaincourt watched with fascination this awesome tug-of-war between the French and Russians:
They threw out a hellish fire against our center in return. Marshal Ney and the viceroy [Eugène] launched a combined attack to take their position but were repulsed. Nor were they any more successful after another attempt and in fact Ney even lost some ground...But our artillery finally checked the enemy offensive, they then being caught in a murderous cannonading by us.
As the action continued:
His Majesty rushed up at a gallop ahead of our own cavalry, joining the king of Naples, to assure the success of his next attack, while Marshal Ney and the viceroy supported General de Caulainourt’s decisive attack. But the enemy’s attempt to retake their lost terrain now proved futile. To better see personally what their [Russian] position was at this time, the emperor advanced to our front line. The [musket] balls whistled so intensely round him that he ordered his personal escort back for safety, and me as well...I thanked him but remained at his side. It was certainly a dangerous moment for the emperor, the fusillade becoming so furious that the king of Naples, along with several other generals, again pressed the emperor to retire. He not only remained there, but personally led the reserve columns into the battle...[by now] almost every division and several of the regiments had lost their commanding officers, killed or wounded.[765]