The Campaigns of Napoleon

by David G Chandler

  The scale of the struggle grew in intensity as Napoleon moved up Mont-brun’s cavalry to reinforce the IIIrd Corps and Nansouty and Latour-Maubourg to sustain Davout. Even these reinforcements proved inadequate. The gallant Montbrun was killed, and before long Junot’s VIIIth Corps was also on its way from reserve to support the Ist Corps whose right flank was being severely irritated by Russian marksmen firing from the northern edge of the Utitsa wood. Thus, as early as 8:30 a.m., Napoleon’s reserve was already reduced to only the Imperial Guard, and the French had precious little to show for their efforts. A short while later and Eugène’s first assault on the Great Redoubt was also reeling downhill in red ruin.* Away on the French right, Poniatowski, after capturing an important hill to the east of Utitsa, was again repulsed with heavy loss, and Napoleon was forced to send forward part of the Young Guard to stabilize the situation. The battle of attrition had begun in earnest.

  It was time for a new all-out effort against the center of the Russian line. Shortly after 10:00

  A.M. a powerful number of men were hurled forward against the Semionovskaya positions. Three corps of infantry (Ist, IIIrd and VIIIth), two more of cavalry, the whole supported by the massed fire of 250 guns, swept forward in a single attack. The French artillery caused fearful havoc among the Russians, but very soon 300 of Bagration’s guns were replying in full earnest, the French losses mounted horrifyingly. “A formidable array of guns spat forth death in every direction,” recalled Caulaincourt. “The Russian infantry made fresh efforts to regain their lost ground. The Great Redoubt belched out a veritable hell on our center.”42 The tightly packed French columns presented a marvelous target for the Russian gunners; in earlier years the Grande Armée had deployed from column into line before going into the final attack, but the inferior quality of the rank and file and the broken nature of the ground made this maneuver impossible in 1812. Marshal Ney was wounded four times during this period, but the Russians for their part lost Marshal Bagration, commander of the Second Army. News of this disaster so disheartened the men of Borozdin and Baggavout that they gave up the struggle and temporarily abandoned their positions to the weary but jubilant Frenchmen.

  It seemed that victory was in sight; the French horsemen swept forward hoping to convert the Russian retreat into a rout, but the stolidly courageous soldiers of the Steppes refused to be panicked. They drew back in good order and eventually halted behind a ravine near the Psarevo plateau; no attacks could dislodge them from this new position. Time and again the fierce charges of Murat’s cavalry broke vainly against the Russian squares, and their line held. Very soon a situation of stalemate developed in the area, and Murat, Davout and Ney sent several appeals to Napoleon requesting the services of the Old Guard for a final, clinching effort. The Emperor, however, thought otherwise, and repeatedly refused their requests. Indeed, Napoleon was not showing himself to the best advantage on this battlefield. His staff were shocked to find him listless and apathetic, and he made no attempt throughout the day to go forward and see for himself. Instead, he mooned around in his Schivardino command post, listening to reports and ceaselessly demanding the rechecking of the news he received. Ill-health and a growing weariness were taking their toll with a vengeance. Several years earlier he had asserted: “We have only a certain time for war.”

  The Battle of Borodino, September 7, 1812

  By midday, the Russian position had been forced into a concave shape, but Napoleon’s reluctance to commit the Guard afforded Kutusov with just enough time to reinforce the most threatened sector of his line. In actual fact it is misleading to speak of Kutusov as if he was in active control of the Russian operations throughout the battle. For much of the time he took scant interest in what was taking place and showed remarkably little initiative. He left almost all decisions to his army commanders, and merely signified his general approval or dissent to their proposals as they were put before him. Nevertheless, for convenience, it is easier to attribute Russian moves to the commander in chief. Now, to increase the resistance of Doctorov and Raevski, Kutusov moved up Tolstoi’s IVth Corps from the right. At the same time Uvarov’s cavalry corps was brought over the lower reaches of the Kalatsha and launched as a diversion against the scanty French garrison of Borodino and the thin cavalry screen beyond. This attack by 5,000 Russian horsemen, supported by strong bodies of Cossacks, routed General Delzons’s cavalry and he lost no time in sending an appeal for help to the Emperor’s Headquarters.

  This disturbing news reached Napoleon at the very moment he was planning a new attack against the Russian line. He immediately dropped the scheme and ordered Eugène to recross the Kalatsha with one division and some cavalry to stabilize the situation. It did not take the Viceroy long to send Uvarov about his business, but the unexpectedness of this onslaught convinced Napoleon of the need to retain what was left of the Guard in reserve as a safeguard against any further scares of this nature. Uvarov had at least won his compatriots some valuable time, for almost an hour had passed before Eugène was able to re-form his men at the foot of the hillside leading to the Great Redoubt, ready for a new assault.

  The grand attack on the Great Redoubt was prepared with care and deliberation. No fewer than 400 French guns were brought to bear on the Russian strongpoint. Under cover of a devastating bombardment, Prince Eugène was to launch a frontal assault with three divisions while the Second Cavalry Corps (now commanded by General Caulaincourt, the Master of the Horse’s brother) smashed its way through the Russian line immediately to the south of the Redoubt in an attempt to get into the enemy’s rear and enter the position from the back, where there were no embrasures or emplacements. About two o’clock in the afternoon, both attacks were launched with the greatest dash and competence, although casualties were again horrific. The French cavalry duly made their penetration and swept into the Redoubt as planned; at the head of the 5th Cuirassier Regiment, Caulaincourt swept over the rear of the Russian defenses to meet his death, but by this time Eugène’s exhausted infantry were pouring through the earthen embrasures from the western side and the four Russian regiments garrisoning the Redoubt were killed to a man. By three o’clock, the Great Redoubt had at last passed into French hands, and a large breach accordingly appeared in the Russian battle-line. Almost all Kutusov’s reserves were already committed to the battle, and his troops were tiring fast. Once again it seemed that the “moment of truth” had arrived and that Napoleon’s great victory was in the offing.

  Eugène lost no time in gathering every available horseman, including Grouchy’s corps brought up from the rear, and immediately flung them forward, hoping to enlarge the gap and exploit the breakthrough to the uttermost. At the very moment of apparent French success, however, General Barclay de Tolly managed to forestall Eugène by counterattacking with two complete corps of Russian cavalry. In terms of quality and fitness the Russian horses were far superior to the lean and overexercised French mounts, and as a result Eugène’s triumphant advance was checked only 500 yards to the east of the Great Redoubt. In vain did Eugène call for the assistance of the Guard; Napoleon remained adamant. “I will not demolish my Guard,” he stated. It is important to note, however, that on this occasion he was supported by both Murat and Berthier in his decision. “Finally they too urged him not to engage the only corps in the whole army which remained intact and ought to be kept so for future occasions,”43 recorded the invaluable Caulaincourt. The opportunity was, therefore, allowed to pass, and the Russian infantry were given time to complete their withdrawal to new positions behind the protective screen of their cavalry.

  There was still plenty of fight left in Kutusov. Sensing that the energy of the French attack was fast dissipating, he ordered General Doctorov to prepare an attack toward Semionovskaya, and sent up part of the fresh Vth Corps under the Grand Duke Constantine to his aid. The preparations for this counteroffensive were noticed by Davout, who was only too well aware of the threat it posed given the present exhausted condition of the French troops. Once aga
in an urgent appeal for the Guard was sent to Napoleon, but his answer never varied. However, he did agree to order forward 80 guns from his artillery reserve to strengthen the French line against the impending storm, and this aid proved effective enough. The fire of these guns proved sufficient to halt the Russians in their tracks, and Tolstoi himself, and many more senior officers, were among the wounded. Consequently, the French remained in possession of their hardwon gains.

  This long and gory day still held one more episode before the battle was broken off by almost mutual consent of the combatants. Prince Poniatowski was ordered forward in one last attempt to pierce the Russian left. The fight was as bitter as ever, but by five in the evening the Vth Corps had at last gained undisputed control of the rounded eminence to the east of Utitsa. At this juncture the Russian left wing began to withdraw. This retreat was not dictated so much by military necessity in face of the Vth Corps’ attack as by a sensible desire on the part of the Russian command to make their left flank conform with the new line being held by the rest of their army. By six o’clock this movement had been completed, and although their new position was not so good as the original, there were few signs of Russian demoralization or apathy. As Bessières described it: “far from being in disorder, they had retreated to a second position, where they seemed to be preparing for a fresh attack.”44 The Moscow militia evidently made a good impression.

  But by this time neither side wished to renew the combat. The firing slowly died away on both sides, and the two exhausted hosts remained facing each other. Twelve hours of continuous fighting had gained the French barely a mile of ground. Murat, the indefatigable, made one last appeal to Napoleon for the use of the Guard cavalry about 10:00

  P.M. Some tough Russian generals were also in favor of renewing the struggle on the morrow, but Kutusov vetoed this proposal and ordered a careful withdrawal to begin shortly before dawn on September 8. The battle of Borodino was over. The French alone had fired 90,000 artillery rounds and perhaps two million infantry cartridges during the day.

  Although technically a victory, Borodino cannot be represented as the decisive battle so long desired by Napoleon. True, it finally opened the road to Moscow and made French occupation of the Kremlin practically a certainty, but the fact that Kutusov was able to withdraw 90,000 troops from the battlefield in good order meant that the military power of Russia was far from destroyed. Moreover, the casualties on both sides had been horrific. As might be expected, it is difficult to estimate these with accuracy, but the Grande Armée certainly lost no less than 30,000 killed and wounded (some authorities place the figure as high as 50,000), while the Russians suffered at least 44,000 casualties. Marshal Davout was among the French wounded and no less than 14 lieutenant-generals and 33 major-generals were dead or wounded. The French casualty lists also include the names of 32 staff officers, 86 aides-de-camp, and 37 colonels of regiments. In all, almost 30 per cent of the contestants engaged had been hit.

  Although Napoleon typically tried to pass off the result as a notable achievement, he had good reason for bitter disappointment. He had prophesied victory to Caulaincourt before the battle joined: “We shall win the battle. The Russians will be crushed, but it will not be conclusive if I do not take prisoners.”45 In this latter respect, Borodino proved extremely barren. According to de Ségur, “From seven to eight hundred prisoners and twenty broken cannon were all the trophies of this imperfect victory.”46 Napoleon has himself paid tribute to the dogged bravery of his opponents, complaining that they let themselves be killed like automatons, preferring death to capture. Apart from providing a relatively open road to Moscow, therefore, Borodino was an empty triumph for the French cause; above all, it did not bring peace.

  Much criticism has been leveled at Napoleon for his conduct of this famous battle. He is criticized for rejecting Davout’s suggested strategic turning movement, for refusing to commit his last reserves at the critical moment when total victory hung in the balance, for encouraging his subordinates to make crude and wasteful frontal attacks instead of concentrating sufficient force on the right, and for failing to make his presence felt at moments of crisis. There is considerable justice in most of these charges, but, of course, they do not tell the whole story. Napoleon’s basic plan of using virtually all his army against the southern half of Kutusov’s line, making the most of the overextended Russian position, which wasted (initially at least) a third of the Russian forces, was sound enough, even if the selected points of attack were ill-advised and broke his own principle of concentration. His reasons for rejecting Davout’s advice have already been mentioned, and were, on the whole, well considered. His refusal to commit the Old Guard was probably correct in the long-term view; he never forgot that 1,200 miles separated him from the French frontier and consequently was well-advised to retain his last major formation intact. Moreover, his ill health does much to explain, if not to excuse, his remarkable lack of energy throughout the day. As he had said years earlier, “Health is indispensable in war.” Illness made him both fretful and excessively cautious.

  Not unnaturally, the Russians also merit considerable criticism; indeed, in many respects they were fortunate to survive the battle. Most of the errors were, of course, the responsibility of their senior generals. The wasteful overextension of the main position and the failure to protect the open left flank have already been mentioned; the positioning of their reserves so close behind the firing line and their failure to support Uvarov’s local success on the right were equally unfortunate. Kutusov made as small a personal contribution to the general development of the battle as his famous opponent. What saved the Russian army was the dogged courage and endurance of its rank and file; their staunch and prolonged resistance in the center at the first crisis of the day enabled their generals to retrieve their dispositional errors and bring up reinforcements from the disengaged right wing. It is noteworthy that, unlike Napoleon, the Russians committed every available unit into action in due course. The Russian infantry clung to the breastworks of their hastily constructed positions to the last breath, and the small number of prisoners that fell into French hands is a further tribute to their sustained valor and morale. Russian brawn, if not Russian brain, had deprived the French of their decisive victory.

  Seventy-five miles and seven days later the leading elements of the French army entered the gates of Moscow. Their advance from Borodino can hardly be called a pursuit; a respectful follow-up would be a more accurate description. Several fierce rear-guard actions were fought, but Kutusov made no attempt to make a second stand. Early on September 14, the aged Russian soldier abandoned Russia’s religious capital and drew away to the southeast toward Kolumna. His rear-guard commander, Miloradovitch, thereupon made contact with General Sébastiani of the Second Cavalry Corps, and agreed to give up Moscow without a fight in return for the right of unhindered evacuation. In earlier years such an arrangement would never have been agreed to by Napoleon, but on this occasion the Emperor was only too grateful to gain possession of the Russian capital without further effort. His men were ragged, exhausted by heat and thirst, and riddled with disease, typhus and dysentery wreaking as much havoc in the ranks as Russian bullets. Only 100,000 men now remained in the ranks of the main army.

  Murat, suitably arrayed in his most gorgeous uniform, was one of the first Frenchmen to enter Moscow at midnight on the 14th. There were few spectators to admire his magnificence, however, for not only was the hour late but the governor had ordered most of the 300,000 inhabitants to leave the city. The following day Napoleon arrived with his suite and took up quarters in the Kremlin.

  Napoleon’s opponents (1800-1815)

  Moscow was his, but the Tsar now come to terms? Napoleon was still hopeful. However, that very night, serious fires broke out in the city’s bazaar quarter. It seemed that the Russian will was still unbroken; perhaps the journey to Moscow had been in vain.

  Except for the formations of Davout and Murat, who continued some little way eastward afte
r the retiring Russians.

  Compare Napoleon’s feelings about a similar error made during the opening stages of the siege of Toulon in 1793. See Part I, p. 23.

  This attack by General Morand’s division was repulsed by part of General Raevski’s command after a hard hand-to-hand struggle.

  PART FOURTEEN

  Retreat

  THE SECOND PART OF NAPOLEON’S RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN, SEPTEMBER 16, 1812, TO MARCH 6, 1813

  71

  PRECARIOUS POSITION

  I

  F YOUR MAJESTY still conserves for me some remnant of your former feelings,” wrote Napoleon to Alexander on September 20, “You will take this letter in good part.”1

  This was hardly the language of a confident conqueror addressing a vanquished enemy; it was almost the tone of a suppliant asking a favor. The Emperor, in fact, was reporting the devastation of Moscow by fire, evincing the greatest anxiety to place the blame squarely on the heads of the Tsar’s servants lest the catastrophe should ruin the chances of a negotiated peace treaty. Napoleon’s strongest wish at this juncture was to see the war brought to a rapid conclusion even at the price of a compromise peace. He could not believe that the Tsar, after having learnt of his army being beaten at Borodino, his religious capital occupied by the enemy and subsequently burned by his own minions, would have any further hesitations on the matter; peace was the only logical outcome, or so it appeared to Napoleon’s rather warped sense of judgment. The King of Naples, at any rate, was convinced that all desire for further hostilities had left the Russian armies. From the cavalry reserve’s advanced positions to the east and south of Moscow, Murat was continually reporting friendly contacts with Cossack chieftains, and many evidences of fraternization could be seen at other points of the front. The French Emperor, in fact, was being deliberately lulled into a sense of false security, for Field-Marshal Kutusov was determined to gain invaluable time before the next phase of the campaign should open. The Court of St. Petersburg, moreover, remained ominously silent when Napoleon’s first tentative peace feelers were put forward in the second half of September.