Napoleon Bonaparte

by Alan Schom

  Berthier spread out a large map on the table in the castle of Dresden, serving as the French general headquarters, and pointed out to Napoleon four major Allied armies closing in on him. Their numbers and pincerlike movement were very worrying indeed, for this was one reality the French emperor could understand. It could have all been avoided had he signed after his last victory. Then the Austrians had switched sides, none other than Prince von Schwarzenberg — whose sparkling dinners Napoleon had personally attended just a few months earlier — now gathering his 230,000-man Army of Bohemia along the southern Elbe. Far to the east, a second force, the 60,000-man Army of Poland, commanded by Bennigsen, was rapidly moving westward. To the south of Breslau, Blücher commanded the Prussian Army of Silesia, some 95,000 men. Far to the north, Berlin, occupied by the Allied Coalition since March, was being handed over to its new commander, Napoleon’s brother-in-law Bernadotte, whose 40,000 Swedes joined the Prussians and would soon be in a position to push southward toward Dresden. All told Russia-Prussia-Austria-Sweden had at least 511,000 men with 1,380 pieces of field artillery and reserves of another 350,000. It was hardly encouraging as Berthier read out the statistics.

  In theory Napoleon boasted 400,000 men, 40,000 cavalry, and 1,284 guns, if he counted every soldier in every outpost in every country in northern Europe, including all his remaining French allies within the Confederation of the Rhine. In theory Prince Eugène’s new Italian army and Wrede’s Bavarians could add another 200,000 men, but that was to prove illusory; the Bavarians were already considered questionable if not downright unreliable. When it came to the actual fighting, then, Napoleon could count on only the immediate availability of 220,000 men, and as for his cavalry, it was new, largely untrained and unblooded. What is more this force was scattered along the Elbe and to the south.

  Since Duroc’s death and the loss of his Austrian allies, Napoleon had a difficult time establishing his objectives: whom to hit first, what areas to secure. Suddenly the very goals of his life had become blurred, shadowy, meaningless. First he moved from Dresden to Bautzen on August 17, only to reverse his orders and march south to Zittau on the Saxon-Bohemian frontier to stop the approaching Russians, only to change his mind yet again, moving to the northeast to head off the larger Silesian army of 95,000 men under Blücher, approaching menacingly from the Oder. Orders were issued and countered, then reissued with variations. His couriers delivered first one set of plans, then another. His commanders were confused. Napoleon had thought the Allies were advancing on Leipzig to the north, and instead they were coming straight for him and Dresden. On August 22 he suddenly rushed back to Dresden to reinforce Marshal St.-Cyr, with news of the sighting of Schwarzenberg’s Austrian army.

  Napoleon’s revised plan to deflect the march of the Allies to the north had failed, however, while Oudinot’s XI Corps, aided by Davout, also failed to frighten Bernadotte’s now superior force of 110,000 men in Berlin. That capital could not be retaken, and Oudinot’s small corps had been sent fleeing to the safety of Wittenberg. Blücher’s Prussian-Silesian Army had by now passed Breslau and the Oder. Even as Schwarzenberg’s large Army of Bohemia was moving up to the west and south of Dresden, Blücher, after passing Breslau to the east, was checked by Macdonald’s army, while Poniatowski’s corps remained as a protective buffer between Macdonald to the east and the now seriously threatened Dresden.

  Napoleon wanted another battle, and he would have one. His immediate force came to only 70,000 men for the time being, including Murat, St.-Cyr, Mortier, and Guard units, while awaiting Latour-Maubourg’s cavalry, Victor’s II Corps, and Marmont’s VI Corps, ordered there from Bautzen.

  In fact it was only late on August 25 that Napoleon had learned how grave the situation at Dresden had become, when he had issued orders for Marmont and Victor to march on the double to save the city. When he finally entered Dresden at nine o’clock the next morning, Bonaparte found to his dismay the place already ringed by Schwarzenberg’s army, some 158,000 of them, solidly cutting off the city’s southern banks of the Elbe from the north at Schustenhauser, all around the walls past their southeasternmost boundaries, reaching right up to the Elbe. (At this time Austrian reinforcements under Wittgenstein and Barclay were far to the east of Dresden.) There was not a break in the long, gripping Austrian line.

  Fortunately Napoleon’s troops still held the entire length of Dresden’s walls, as well as the three bridgeheads crossing the river to the north bank, which would permit Latour-Maubourg, Victor, and Marmont’s corps to reach them, increasing French forces from 70,000 to 120,000 within a matter of hours.

  Although often capable of preparing excellent operational plans — at Wagram, for instance — Schwarzenberg was overcautious by nature, added to a lack of confidence in his own ideas and men. Now, on seeing Napoleon enter the city, the Austrian commander suddenly delayed his own offensive. When it did begin, it was sluggish, and Murat and Ney pushed out powerfully against the attacking Austrians, aided by French batteries from the other side of the Elbe, severely pounding Schwarzenberg’s positions. By nightfall Schwarzenberg had lost ground everywhere.

  As the battle resumed on the morning of the twenty-seventh, Napoleon was in a stronger position, with 50,000 additional troops thanks to the arrival of Victor and Marmont. Meanwhile well to the southeast of the city Vandamme’s 40,000 men had checked Wittgenstein’s reinforcements. Mortier, joined by Ney and St.-Cyr, now pushed back Wittgenstein’s right flank. Marmont, Victor, Murat, and Latour-Maubourg were equally successful against the Austrians, now reduced to perhaps 170,000. And to complete a dreary picture for the Austrians, a heavy rain had fallen the previous night, leaving them — as well as the French — soaked, sleepless, and exhausted by the time the fighting resumed.

  Nonetheless the French offensive opened against Schwarzenberg’s right at six o’clock that morning and did not stop. Despite some weakness in the French center, success had followed their army. The czar himself, well within range of the lethal artillery, watched in dismay as Allied casualties mounted and the troops gave way. They had had enough.

  During the night of August 27-28, the large Russo-Prussian army that two days earlier had appeared to have an ironfast stranglehold on Dresden retreated in defeat toward the mountains of the Bohemian frontier, having suffered some 38,000 casualties, compared to a relatively light 10,000 for the French.

  On the twenty-eighth the French pursuit got off to a good start but then suddenly slackened as bad news reached Napoleon’s headquarters, where he reportedly was ill. Oudinot had been defeated by Bernadotte near Berlin. Meanwhile Macdonald had in his enthusiasm separated himself from the main French force by pursuing Blücher. Seeing this French marshal now isolated, the Allies turned back and attacked, defeating Macdonald’s army decisively on the twenty-sixth at Katzbach. What is more the Prussians had taken 15,000 French prisoners and one hundred field pieces. Then on the twenty-ninth came still more bad news. Vandamme and his I Corps, instead of pursuing the Allies, likewise found themelves defeated decisively by Ostermann at Kulm. What is more, Vandamme and another 13,000 French troops were taken prisoner. Green troops, recalcitrant conscripts, and generally low morale were taking their effect everywhere in French ranks.

  Napoleon, though outwardly unmoved, was staggered by two such immense losses after his masterful victory at Dresden: 28,000 French prisoners taken within hours. As for the Allied Coalition, these new French defeats altered the situation completely, restoring their confidence and determination to smash the French once and for all. Clearly the Grande Armée of yore had been buried in the tundra of the north, even as further news of Lord Wellington’s triumphant drive through northern Spain reached Napoleon now. The British general had defeated Marshal Jourdan and Joseph Bonaparte at the decisive battle at Vitoria on June 21, forcing the harried Joseph, along with the remnants of the French army, to scurry back over the frontier into France.

  In Germany the fleeing Allied armies were halting and regrouping, while the defeated Frenc
h were retreating to Dresden and the Elbe. The tide of battle and the fate of nations again had been changed all across the continent of Europe. Meeting at Toplitz on September 9, the newly determined Allies signed a fresh Austro-Russo-Prussian Alliance to eradicate Napoleon and his fameuse Armée from the face of Europe.

  The situation was changing rapidly, fresh Allied armies appearing out of nowhere, often covering great distances, forming and reforming, drawing ever closer, like leucocytes isolating a bacterium — the French who were devouring Europe. But for all their rapidity, the new Coalition was still very wary of the Napoleon Bonaparte who had defeated them in the last two battles in May. Even with a mere 100,000 men he was dangerous, and they did not underestimate him now as they concentrated even more troops. Their plan was to begin with attacks on the most vulnerable French positions, the isolated Elbe strongholds.

  On the other hand, Bonaparte had not only fought many of the opposing generals on several occasions in the past, defeating them almost every time, but knew some of them and their characters personally. For one of the first times in his career he was in a position to outthink and anticipate his opponents’ tactics and actions, but this was complicated by the new factors added to the equation — namely that of old, separate opponents. Recent Allied victories, along with the news of Napoleon’s defeat in Spain, along with the French disaster in Russia the previous year, multiplied and aggravated by years of anger and humiliation under the French yoke, culminated in their furious determination to be done with this man once and for all.

  Napoleon finally pulled himself together and concentrated on the essentials: the Elbe fortresses, Leipzig, and Dresden. By mid-October the general strategic situation had altered dramatically. The slow-moving army under Bernadotte descending from Berlin, although deflected by Ney, had nevertheless bypassed Magdeburg and Wittenberg, crossing the Elbe, while Blücher’s Silesian Prussians, despite running skirmishes with Macdonald, had also crossed the Elbe on October 30, defeating General Bertrand. Indeed, they reached the Saale, not far from Bernadotte, while the Bohemian army, still by far the largest of the Coalition forces, was moving east across the Saale, and north, its apparent objective Leipzig. Napoleon reacted by marching rapidly to the south to be near Leipzig, heading an army comprising five infantry corps (Bertrand’s IV, Marmont’s VI, Souham’s III, Reynier’s VII, and Macdonald’s XI) supported by Sébastiani’s and Latour-Maubourg’s cavalry. At Leipzig the French general Arrighi was literally holding the fort, with Murat’s wall of cavalry protecting Leipzig’s southern approaches, bolstered by Victor’s II, Lauriston’s V, Poniatowski’s VIII, and Augereau’s IX Corps.

  Napoleon was therefore still in a highly maneuverable position, but at the price of having left Dresden unprotected, held by only St.-Cyr and Lobau, ringed by Ostermann’s troops. Allied numerical superiority was finally paying off. As for Davout and his 35,000 men, they, too, found themselves isolated far to the north around Hamburg and thus well out of the picture. Then came more bad news that former French allies — including the jolly Max Joseph of Bavaria, Eugène de Beauharnais’s father-in-law — were abandoning Napoleon. That left Westphalia and what remained of the Confederation of the Rhine all the more exposed. Saxony alone still backed the French, and that would last only as long as Napoleon held their capital of Dresden. In fact, since the middle of August the French had lost 150,000 men of their original force, mainly through desertion, to join the new Allied Coalition. Furthermore, French low morale was aggravated by the lack of supplies and rations.

  Having lost nearly half of his guns — Napoleon was down to 784 — and his total initial force of just over 400,000 now reduced to around 260,000, with manpower and supplies fading quickly, the French leader realized that he had to act immediately and decisively if he was to retrieve the situation, and he had no intention whatsoever of asking for peace terms. First he would have to withdraw forces, shortening French lines of communication and tightening defenses. Leipzig was to be the new center of operations for his army, hence the decision to leave only St.-Cyr and Lobau at the otherwise unprotected capital of Dresden in face of a growing enemy force gathering around them. Given his weakened numbers, maintaining Dresden and not consolidating those forces with him now was an error. But as even the faithful Méneval pointed out, it was his greed, his need to hold everything, everywhere, that was to prove his undoing, distorting his military judgment.

  Having originally moved north from Dresden on October 7, 1813, with troops, Napoleon had hoped to catch Blücher’s Prussian army of 60,000 men unawares. He marched northwest toward Diiben, catching up to them on the ninth. But Blücher’s smaller, better-fed, and more alert army had reacted quickly, avoiding that confrontation by moving over to the Saale. Napoleon had still been debating his next move when he received urgent word from Murat at Leipzig that he was under attack by Schwarzenberg’s army. Napoleon immediately marched south with his entire force to Eilenburg, just a few miles north of Leipzig, gathering more intelligence reports from the tenth to the fourteenth of the month. Although Blücher was just one day’s march away at Halle, on the other hand Ney had earlier inflicted heavy casualties on Bernadotte, reducing his army to 80,000 men, though it was still approaching. Murat was withdrawing slowly before the Allied armies of Schwarzenberg and Bennigsen, now totaling 240,000 men, but unable to prevent their steady advance. Blücher too was on the move, intent on a junction of his 60,000 men and Schwarzenberg’s near Leipzig. Bernadotte as usual dithered, avoiding battles and commitments.

  By October 13 Napoleon had finally made his decision. He would march south to Leipzig and intercept Blücher’s and Schwarzenberg’s armies separately before they could join forces. That meant his entire army must reach Leipzig by the next morning. With 200,000 men under his single command, Napoleon felt he could do it. “There can be no doubt,” he wrote Marshal Macdonald on the fourteenth, “that sometime tomorrow — the fifteenth — we shall be attacked by the armies of Bohemia [Austria] and Silesia [Prussia]. Come as quickly as possible and when you hear the cannonade. Simply follow the sound of the guns.”

  Colonel Marbot, serving under Napoleon, described Leipzig at this time as “one of the greatest German centers of German commerce and wealth, situated in the middle of the vast plain extending from the Elbe to the Harz Mountains of Thuringia and Bohemia,” at the confluence of four small rivers — the Elster, the Pleisse, the Partha, and the Luppe — creating a veritable maze of waterways and marsh. “The city...had four main gates and three smaller ones. The [western] road, from Lützen via Lindenau and Markranstädt, was the only one left by which the French army could still freely maintain communications and supply lines [back to France].”

  It was through the main northern gate that Napoleon entered Leipzig on October 14, although the last of his forces, Reynier’s VII Corps, was still many miles to the north. Bonaparte was not at all pleased with what he found. His men were stretched in a line two to four miles to the south of the city, a thin defensive line of troops to the west of the city, and separated by a wide, marshy, wooded area from Leipzig on a single causeway and bridge connecting it. What is more this marsh extended from north of the city for a few miles to the south, presenting a great barrier to the maneuverability of friend and foe alike. For the moment his troops to the west of Leipzig held their tenuous French lifeline from Lindenau, Markranstädt, back to Lützen and Erfurt. Although no enemy was yet actually laying siege to the city, it would be difficult to keep that vital logistical route open across relatively flat prairie with very few hills or defensive positions. To the southeast, on the other hand, where the initial French troops had already dug in, there were some hillocks, open plain, and some wood, but no marsh — ideal country for the larger infantry and cavalry tactics Napoleon so favored.

  He immediately started planning a major offensive against the principal Austro-Russian force by now in some strength to the southwest, with the intention of enveloping it with his cavalry around the Allied right flank. He did not know
the extent of the Allied force (203,000, which outnumbered his own 177,500 men and seven hundred guns). Nor was he yet aware that Blücher’s Prussian army, down to 54,000 men, was also quickly approaching Leipzig from the northwest near the Halle-Leipzig Road.

  On October 15 both sides deployed their troops, the Austro-Russian army already in full control of the road extending southward from Leipzig to Pegau and several miles to the east as far as the Leipzig-Naunhof Road. Their principal force was followed by Russian and Austrian reserves up the Pegau Road, while already deployed stood Kleist’s corps; Prince Eugène’s, Pahlen’s, and Gorchakov’s cavalry; as well as Klenau’s corps of 33,000 holding the extreme right wing.

  Facing them was Poniatowski’s VIII Corps, anchored on the Pegau Road as far as the hamlet of Markkleeberg, where Victor’s II Corps took over, extending to the French extreme left, held by Lauriston’s small V Corps controlling the Leipzig-Pommsen Road. General Arrighi held the critical French line opposite the marsh to the west of Leipzig, while Marmont’s VI Corps formed from the Halle-Leipzig Road north to the village of Radefeld. Reynier’s VII Corps was still many miles to the north on the Düben Road, however, and could not be counted on. But immediately north of Leipzig, Souham’s III and Bertrand’s IV Corps were moving into place even as Macdonald’s XI Corps and Sébastiani’s small cavalry were arriving from the northwest. South of Leipzig, Napoleon’s main cavalry, including Latour-Maubourg’s and Pajol’s, were placed behind Victor’s and Lauriston’s line, with the Imperial Guard, 47,000 strong, behind them. Just to the east of them stood Augereau’s IX Corps. Such was the position by the beginning of October 16.