Napoleon was clearly hoping for a quick victory; the foe would either have to fight or conduct a precipitate retreat over the Elbe, losing much face and even more cohesion in the process. To some extent, of course, the Emperor was still feeling his way in the dark. His knowledge of the foe’s numbers and exact dispositions was very incomplete, and as late as the 19th he was assessing enemy strength on the left bank of the Elbe “at between sixty and seventy thousand men—infantry, cavalry and artillery,” while in fact the enemy disposed of more than 90,000 men on that date. The inadequacies of French intelligence—largely due to the weakness of the light cavalry arm—were already becoming apparent, and doubtlessly the same weakness persuaded Napoleon to route his communications through Hanover instead of adopting a more direct route through Thuringia; he was relying on Davout’s corps behind the barrier of the Lower Elbe to safeguard his rear links rather than the customary force of cavalry.
Apart from the miscalculation of enemy strength, the plan was sound enough. If the enemy advanced to attack Napoleon, Eugène could strike their right flank; if the Viceroy became the main target, the Emperor would be in a position to attack the Allied left. Furthermore, the new idea was not intended to supplant the master scheme, but simply serve as its introduction. Napoleon still intended to take Berlin and conduct his main campaign in the north, but by first snatching the opportunity of a quick victory in the south he hoped to re-establish his military reputation, give his raw troops the invaluable moral advantage of an early success, and at the same time overawe Austria and the disaffected parts of the Confederation into at least a semblance of cooperation.
On April 15, Napoleon left St. Cloud to join the Army of the Main. On the 17th he reached Mainz and stayed there a week perfecting the administrative details for the campaign. These included splitting Bertrand’s corps in half to provide a command (newly designated the XIIth Corps) for Marshal Oudinot. On the 25th he moved forward to Erfurt, the point of assembly for his whole army save only Bertrand’s corps, and thence traveled on to Eckartsburg. By the last day of the month, the Army of the Elbe was concentrated around Merseburg, and the Army of the Main was fast closing up on Naumburg—totaling between them almost 200,000 men and 372 guns, but including only a very weak number of cavalry.
The Emperor was growing increasingly concerned about the weakness of his mounted arm. Not only was this robbing him of detailed knowledge of enemy moves and strengths, but forces of enemy light horse had begun to harass the French columns as they moved forward, causing delay and confusion. “He appeared very uneasy”10 noted d’Odeleben at Erfurt, and the previous day Napoleon had written to the King of Württemberg describing his difficulties. “I would find myself in a position to finish matters very quickly if only I had 15,000 more cavalry; but I am rather weak in this arm.”11 He went on to say, however, that he expected 30,000 more horsemen to join the army during May and it appears that he would have been prepared to see the crisis of his offensive delayed until this reinforcement could materialize. This was not to be, however; moves by the Allies were to offer an opportunity of battle at the very beginning of the month.
The Allied army found itself beset with increasing doubts and uncertainties from the middle of April onward. Although the generals at the front were practically certain that the French were astir from the middle of March, the Tsar’s advisers doubted whether anything would happen before June. Blücher and Wittgenstein remained unconvinced by these arguments, and gradually advanced their units westward toward the Saale with great caution. They realized that they were likely to be outnumbered by the French when Napoleon’s move began and considered the relativé merits of two courses of action. They could either fall back behind the Elbe, or mass their forces to attack Napoleon as his army crossed the Saale in the hope of isolating and destroying his leading corps. The former course had little to recommend it; the French already possessed two bridgeheads over the Elbe (Magdeburg and Wittenberg) and a retrograde movement might well affect Allied morale. The bolder choice appeared the best. Not only was the ground to the east of the Saale very open—and consequently well-suited for cavalry action (and the Allies were well aware of the superiority of their mounted arm)—but in a man-for-man struggle against an isolated part of Napoleon’s forces it was also felt that the Russian veterans would prove more than a match for the raw French conscripts. The views of the men on the spot were eventually endorsed by their superiors, and between April 19 and 24 the corps of Miloradovitch and the Russian Guard marched up to the front through Dresden, bringing with them the Tsar and the King of Prussia.
A new command problem at once arose. Kutusov was now at death’s door, and the Tsar decided to appoint Wittgenstein in his place as overall commander in chief. The Prussians agreed, but both Tormassov (the Guard Corps commander) and Miloradovitch asserted their seniority over the appointee (he was certainly the youngest of the three) and refused to serve under his command. Alexander decided not to press the matter, and reached an unsatisfactory compromise whereby Wittgenstein was given command over Blücher and Winzingerode while the other two corps were retained under the Tsar’s personal control. The various generals then began to argue once more about future plans, but their deliberations were cut short when news came of sharp encounters with French forces at Merseburg, Halle and Weissenfels. Napoleon was clearly on the move, and the Allies immediately ordered their forces to concentrate between Leipzig and Altenburg, ready to advance on Lützen to attack the French right flank if the Emperor continued his advance over the Saale. Very soon the Allies had 48,000 infantry, 25,000 cavalry and over 500 guns preparing for battle.
77
LÜTZEN AND BAUTZEN
The French were indeed advancing. On May I, the Army of the Elbe was ordered to complete its passage over the Saale through Merseburg and move on Schladelbach while Ney’s IIIrd Corps supported by Marmont’s VIth pressed on through Weissenfels toward Lützen; Bertrand and Oudinot were to head for Naumburg. There were indications that Allied units were moving southward and that some form of concentration was taking place near Zwenkau immediately to the south of Leipzig, but Napoleon determined to retain the initiative by pushing ahead to occupy Leipzig itself, leaving Ney the duty of protecting his right flank. Accordingly, IIIrd Corps moved forward to Lützen, occupying it late in the day. The general advance, however, was hotly contested at several points.
The heaviest fighting of the operation took place to the east of Weissenfels near Poserna. The French were ultimately successful, but the stalwart Marshal Bessières was killed. According to Marbot, “The Emperor regretted him more than the army, which had never forgotten that it was the advice given by this marshal on the evening of the Battle of the Moskowa that had prevented Napoleon from completing his victory by sending in his Guard….”12 The Emperor, however, felt this loss sorely: “Bessières lived like Bayard; he died like Turenne,” was his spoken epitaph on a trusted subordinate who had first soldiered under him in 1796 as a captain commanding the Guides.
That night Napoleon laid down strict instructions concerning Ney’s role for the 2nd. In order to cover Lauriston’s and Macdonald’s advance on Leipzig and to give Marmont and the other elements of the Army of the Main time to close up on Lützen, IIIrd Corps was to occupy both the city and the villages of Kaja, Rahna, Gross and Klein Görschen immediately to its south. He warned his subordinate that in the event of a major enemy attack from the direction of Zwenkau, he would have immediately to assume the role of pinning force and advance guard, while the Army of the Elbe swung round to attack the Allied left. When the original orders were sent out, however, this likelihood appeared remote; Napoleon had no real expectation of a battle at Lützen and anticipated a continuation of his march toward Dresden. Nevertheless, at 4:00
A.M. he sent a further message to Ney instructing him “to send out two strong reconnaissance forces, one toward Zwenkau, the other toward Pegau”13 as a precautionary move. This, as will be seen, Ney neglected to do.
Meanwhil
e, patrols of Allied cavalry were busily probing the French right wing. In due course they reported back to Wittgenstein that the main body of the French forces was pressing on from Weissenfels towards Leipzig, and that only a very weak flank guard had been stationed at Kaja. This estimate was substantially correct, for not only had Ney neglected to send out patrols toward Zwenkau but he had also retained three of his five divisions in Lützen itself, sending only two out in the direction of the villages. The foe also discovered the existence of a strong French detachment to the south of Teuchern (Bertrand). Armed with this information, Wittgenstein decided to pounce on the weak force around Kaja, being completely unaware that Ney had three divisions up his sleeve. His orders were long and complicated. While General Kleist held Leipzig on the right and Miloradovitch moved up to Zeitz to protect the left, the rest of the army was to hasten forward to Gross Görschen; after Kaja had been cleared of the French, the armament would press on to sever the Weissenfels-Lützen highway, rolling the French northward toward the River Elster. The move into contact was to commence at 1: 00
A.M. on the 2nd, and was to be completed by 7:00
A.M.
This timetable proved markedly overoptimistic. Marching in the dark, the Allied columns became repeatedly entangled, and it was not until 11:00
A.M. that even the leading formations reached their forward assembly areas. Wittgenstein then ordered officers forward to climb the low crest near Gross Görschen and spy out the French positions. All that could be seen were a mere 2,000 troops busy cooking their midday meal; there were no signs of either sentries or supports; the French had not even sent patrols to guard the ridge to their front. Confident of an easy victory, Wittgenstein ordered Blücher’s cavalry to attack (11:45
A.M.) and sweep away this paltry force.
As they charged down on Kaja, the Prussian troopers suffered a considerable shock. Instead of a mere 2,000 conscripts they found themselves facing two complete divisions who were equally aghast at this unexpected attack. Blücher’s reaction was to halt the cavalry and send for his artillery from the rear, and this delay gave the French General Souham just enough time to collect his wits and occupy Gross Görschen while Girard proceeded to gather his men around the village of Starsiedl, comforted by the knowledge that Marmont would soon be arriving to his aid.
By midday, the action had opened. Girard easily held his ground, but Souham was forced back by overwhelming artillery fire. At this juncture a dust-covered Marshal Ney at last spurred on to the field. He had been accompanying Napoleon toward Leipzig when the first shots were exchanged, and at once rushed back to Lützen to reassume his neglected command. He arrived in time to lead up the three reserve divisions from the town itself and thus check Souham’s retreat. With typical impetuosity, the Prince of the Moskowa ordered his corps to counterattack immediately, and soon a desperate battle of varying fortune was raging around the village line.
The Battle of Lutzen, May 2, 1813: the morning battle, c. midday
Napoleon was undoubtedly surprised by the volume of cannon fire he could hear from the direction of Lützen. The Emperor had reached Markranstadt in the wake of Lauriston’s Vth Corps before he became fully aware of the dramatic developments on his right. After listening carefully for a few minutes, he issued his orders. IIIrd Corps must hold at all costs while Marmont moved up on its right in close support and Bertrand threatened the Russian left. Simultaneously, Macdonald would swing his XIth Corps southward from the Leipzig road to attack the Russian right. General Lauriston, meantime, would leave a single division to finish with Kleist (the Prussian commander was already evacuating Leipzig by 1:00
P.M.) and countermarch the remaining two toward Markranstadt; the Guard was to move immediately to the Kaja area. The Emperor then set out to ride over to the battlefield, feeling that his presence might be desirable.
Napoleon reached the field at 2:30
P.M. He found the situation critical. Ney’s weary and shaken corps was on the point of dissolution, while Marshal Bertrand had halted his advance against Blücher’s left on discovering Miloradovitch approaching Zeitz. Marmont, too, was hard pressed by the Allies. It was a moment calling for personal leadership—and Napoleon proved more than equal to the occasion. Riding among the wavering conscripts, the Emperor exhorted and cajoled them back into their ranks and then repeatedly led them up toward the enemy. The effect of his presence was almost magical. New confidence and resolution flooded back into his troops. “This was probably the day, of his whole career, on which Napoleon incurred the greatest personal danger on the field of battle,” recorded Marmont. “He exposed himself constantly, leading the defeated men of IIIrd Corps back to the charge.”14 From all sides rang cries of “Vive I’Empereur !” “Hardly a wounded man passed before Bonaparte without saluting him with the accustomed vivat” wrote d’Odeleben. “Even those who had lost a limb, who would in a few hours be the prey of death, rendered him this homage.”15
Nevertheless, the situation remained grave. Both Ney and Marmont were in a poor condition, and appeals for help flooded in from every side. Although the Guard reached Kaja soon after the Emperor, he refused to commit it into action so early. “Tell your marshal,” he replied to Marmont’s emissary, “that he is mistaken; he has nothing against him; the battle turns about Kaja.”16 The struggle along the edge of the ridge swung to and fro, but every minute was enabling Bertrand (who had now resumed his advance) and Macdonald to draw closer to the flanks of Wittgenstein’s army.
The Battle of Lutzen, May 2, 1813: the afternoon battle, c. 6 p.m.
A series of mischances and mistakes by the Allies now aided the French. Blücher was wounded, and his command devolved on General Yorck, a less inspiring leader. Moreover, the Russian reserves were proving slow in-materializing, and before they were up Wittgenstein felt it would be unsafe to throw in Yorck’s corps to support Blücher’s tiring men. The late arrival of Tormassov’s Guards and grenadier divisions was entirely due to Tsar Alexander’s personal intervention. Believing that all was going well at the front he deliberately held them back, planning, it appears, to lead them forward for the coup de grâce in person at the end of the battle. The unfortunate Wittgenstein thus found it increasingly difficult to control the battle, but although he became increasingly aware of the growing peril on his flanks he felt too deeply involved to call off the action while there was still time. Only at 4:00 o’clock were his reserves at last on the field; he at once launched Yorck forward in a new assault. This came within sight of success, for the Prussians almost reached the village of Kaja, but a spirited charge by a division of the Young Guard, supported by the renewed advance of IIIrd Corps, re-established the French line, and the struggle for control of the villages and the crest resumed its old pattern.
By 5:30
P.M. the French outflanking forces were practically in position. Macdonald stormed through the village of Eisdorf on Ney’s left, and Bertrand made contact with Marmont’s right. The Allies at the same time achieved a limited success in the center, retaking two villages, but Napoleon’s concentration was almost complete and Wittgenstein was already at a marked numerical disadvantage. At 6:00 o’clock, Napoleon decided that the moment had come for the grand attack. General Drouot massed 70 cannon to the southwest of Kaja, and then manhandled them forward to practically point-blank range. Simultaneously the Young Guard formed itself into four columns of assault, each consisting of four battalions, and began to move inexorably forward, with the Old Guard, the Guard Cavalry and the remnants of IIIrd Corps in support. Marmont and Bertrand swept in from the right, Macdonald from the left. The order was given: “La garde au feu” Within a short space of time the villages of Rahna, Klein and Gross Görschen had all been retaken by storm, and the entire Allied line began to recoil in growing confusion.
Two more hours of daylight were all that Napoleon required to clinch his success. Unfortunately these were not forthcoming, and nightfall soon brought the battle to an end. The crippling shortage of French
cavalry again made itself felt, for no pursuit à l’outrance was feasible, and although Marmont pressed forward with his infantry as fast as he could, his corps was severely handled by a furious Prussian cavalry counterattack at 9:00
P.M.
So ended the battle of Lützen. The result was undoubtedly a victory for Napoleon, but the inadequacy of the pursuit robbed him of complete success. It had been dearly bought. The French lost at least 20,000 casualties (IIIrd Corps bearing no less than 12,000 of these) besides several thousand more stragglers. Allied losses are harder to calculate—estimates range from 11,500 killed and wounded to 20,000. However, the Allies had received a very severe shaking, and Napoleon had retrieved his military reputation. Russia and Prussia tried to paint the outcome as an Allied near-success, but their claims were hardly convincing. It was true that Wittgenstein had taken the French IIIrd Corps—and indeed the Emperor himself—by surprise during the morning, but the customary flexibility of Napoleon’s dispositions enabled him to react to the unanticipated situation as energetically as ever. On the Allied side, the inadequate system of high command and chaotic staff work during the initial advance had robbed Wittgenstein of any real chance of success. As a result of this battle the Allies were forced to acknowledge that Napoleon was far from a spent force and accordingly they sullenly retreated eastwards. Some pessimists spoke of the need to fall back all the way to the Vistula; few expected a halt this side of the Oder. Nevertheless, the ferocity of the battle had shaken even Napoleon’s equanimity. “These animals have learned something,”17 he commented acidly. The truths of Napoleonic warfare were coming home to roost.
In the early hours of the morning following the battle, Napoleon outlined the next moves. Ney was to be allowed the luxury of twenty-four hours’ rest in which to reconstitute his shattered formations; he was then to march on Wittenberg to relieve the French garrison besieged there. The Army of the Elbe, meantime, would strain every nerve in an attempt to discover where the Allies were retreating to.
The Campaigns of Napoleon Page 108