Book: History of the Expedition to Russia

C >> Count Philip de Segur >> History of the Expedition to Russia




After crossing the Louja by a narrow bridge, the high road from Kalouga
runs along the bottom of a ravine which ascends to the town, and then
enters Malo-Yaroslawetz. The Russians, in mass occupied this hollow way:
Delzons and his Frenchmen rushed upon them head foremost; the Russians
were broken and overthrown; they gave way and presently our bayonets
glistened on the heights.

Delzons, conceiving himself sure of the victory, announced it as won. He
had nothing but a pile of buildings to storm, his soldiers hesitated. He
himself advanced and was encouraging them by his words, gestures and
example, when a ball struck him on the forehead, and extended him on the
ground. His brother threw himself upon him, covered him with his body,
clasped him in his arms, and would have borne him off out of the fire
and the fray, but a second ball hit him also, and both expired together.

This loss left a great void, which required to be filled up. Guilleminot
succeeded Delzons, and the first thing he did was to throw a hundred
grenadiers into a church and church-yard, in the walls of which they
made loop-holes. This church stood on the left of the high road, which
it commanded, and to this edifice we owed the victory. Five times on
that day was this post passed by the Russian columns, which were
pursuing ours, and five times did its fire, seasonably poured upon their
flank and rear, harass them and slacken their progress: afterwards when
we resumed the offensive, this position placed them between two fires
and ensured the success of our attacks.

Scarcely had that general made this disposition when he was assailed by
hosts of Russians; he was driven back towards the bridge, where the
viceroy had stationed himself, in order to judge how to act and prepare
his reserves. At first the reinforcements which he sent came up but
slowly one after another; and as is almost always the case, each of
them, being inadequate to any great effort, was successively destroyed
without result.

At length the whole of the 14th division was engaged: the combat was
then carried, for the third time, to the heights. But when the French
had passed the houses, when they had removed from the central point from
which they set out; when they had reached the plain, where they were
exposed, and where the circle expanded; they could advance no farther:
overwhelmed by the fire of a whole army they were daunted and shaken:
fresh Russians incessantly came up; our thinned ranks gave way and were
broken; the obstacles of the ground increased their confusion: they
again descended precipitately and abandoned every thing.

Meanwhile the shells having set fire to the wooden town behind them, in
their retreat they were stopped by the conflagration; one fire drove
them back upon another; the Russian recruits, wrought up to a pitch of
fanatic fury, closely pursued them; our soldiers became enraged; they
fought man to man: some were seen seizing each other by one hand,
striking with the other, until both victors and vanquished rolled down
precipices into the flames, without losing their hold. There the wounded
expired, either suffocated by the smoke, or consumed by the fire. Their
blackened and calcined skeletons soon presented a hideous sight, when
the eye could still discover in them the traces of a human form.

All, however, were not equally intent on doing their duty. There was one
officer, a man who was known to talk very big, and who, at the bottom of
a ravine, wasted the time for action in making speeches. In this place
of security he kept about him a sufficient number of troops to authorize
his remaining himself, leaving the rest to expose themselves in detail,
without unison and at random.

The 15th division was still left. The viceroy summoned it: as it
advanced, it threw a brigade into the suburb on the left, and another
into the town on the right. It consisted of Italians, recruits, who had
never before been in action. They ascended, shouting enthusiastically,
ignorant of the danger or despising it, from that singular disposition,
which renders life less dear in its flower than in its decline, either
because while young we fear death less from the feeling of its distance,
or because at that age, rich in years and prodigal of every thing, we
squander life as the wealthy do their fortune.

The shock was terrible: every thing was reconquered for the fourth time,
and lost in like manner. More eager to begin than their seniors, they
were sooner disheartened, and returned flying to the old battalions,
which supported and were obliged to lead them back to the danger.

The Russians, emboldened by their incessantly increasing numbers and
success, then descended by their right to gain possession of the bridge
and to cut off our retreat. Prince Eugene had nothing left but his last
reserve: he and his guard now took part in the combat. At this sight,
and at his call, the remains of the 13th, 14th, and 15th divisions
mustered their courage; they made a powerful and a last effort, and for
the fifth time the combat was transferred to the heights.

At the same time Colonel Peraldi and the Italian chasseurs overthrew
with their bayonets the Russians, who were already approaching the left
of the bridge, and inebriated by the smoke and the fire, through which
they had passed, by the havoc which they made, and by their victory,
they pushed forward without stopping on the elevated plain, and
endeavoured to make themselves masters of the enemy's cannon: but one of
those deep clefts, with which the soil of Russia is intersected, stopped
them in the midst of a destructive fire; their ranks opened, the enemy's
cavalry attacked them, and they were driven back to the very gardens of
the suburbs. There they paused and rallied: all, both French and
Italians, obstinately defended the upper avenues of the town, and the
Russians being at length repulsed, drew back and concentrated themselves
on the road to Kalouga, between the woods and Malo-Yaroslawetz.

In this manner eighteen thousand Italians and French crowded together at
the bottom of a ravine, defeated fifty thousand Russians, posted over
their heads, and seconded by all the obstacles that a town built on a
steep declivity is capable of presenting.

The army, however, surveyed with sorrow this field of battle, where
seven generals and four thousand Italians had been killed or wounded.
The sight of the enemy's loss afforded no consolation; it was not twice
the amount of ours, and their wounded would be saved. It was moreover
recollected that in a similar situation Peter I., in sacrificing ten
Russians for one Swede, thought that he was not sustaining merely an
equal loss, but even gaining by so terrible a bargain. But what caused
the greatest pain, was the idea that so sanguinary a conflict might have
been spared.

In fact, the fires which were discovered on our left, in the night
between the 23d and 24th, had apprised us of the movement of the
Russians towards Malo-Yaroslawetz; and yet the French army had marched
thither languidly; a single division, thrown to the distance of three
leagues from all succour, had been carelessly risked; the _corps
d'armee_ had remained out of reach of each other. Where were now the
rapid movements of Marengo, Ulm, and Eckmuehl? Why so slow and drawling a
march on such a critical occasion? Was it our artillery and baggage that
had caused this tardiness? Such was at least the most plausible
presumption.




CHAP. III.


When the Emperor heard the report of this combat, he was a few paces to
the right of the high road, at the bottom of a ravine, close to the
rivulet and village of Ghorodinia, in the habitation of a weaver, an
old, crazy, filthy, wooden hut. Here he was half a league from
Malo-Yaroslawetz, at the commencement of the bend of the Louja. It was
in this worm-eaten dwelling, and in a dirty dark room, parted off into
two by a cloth, that the fate of the army and of Europe was about to be
decided.

The first hours of the night passed in receiving reports. All agreed
that the enemy was making preparations against the next day for a
battle, which all were disposed to decline. About eleven o'clock
Bessieres entered. This marshal owed his elevation to honourable
services, and above all to the affection of the Emperor, who had become
attached to him as to a creation of his own. It is true, that a man
could not be a favourite with Napoleon, as with any other monarch; that
it was necessary at least to have followed and been of some service to
him, for he sacrificed little to the agreeable; in short, it was
requisite that he should have been more than a witness of so many
victories; and the Emperor when fatigued, accustomed himself to see with
eyes which he believed to be of his own formation.

He had sent this marshal to examine the attitude of the enemy. Bessieres
had obeyed: he had carefully explored the front of the Russian position.
"It is," said he, "unassailable!"--"Oh heavens!" exclaimed the Emperor,
clasping his hands, "are you sure you are right? Are you not mistaken?
Will you answer for that?" Bessieres repeated his assertion: he affirmed
that "three hundred grenadiers would there be sufficient to keep in
check a whole army." Napoleon then crossed his arms with a look of
consternation, hung his head, and remained as if overwhelmed with the
deepest dejection. "His army was victorious and himself conquered. His
route was intercepted, his manoeuvre, thwarted: Kutusoff, an old man,
a Scythian, had been beforehand with him! And he could not accuse his
star. Did not the sun of France seem to have followed him to Russia? Was
not the road to Malo-Yaroslawetz open but the preceding day? It was not
his fortune then that had failed him, but he who had been wanting to his
fortune?"

Absorbed in this abyss of painful reflections, he fell into so profound
a stupor, that none of those about him could draw from him a single
word. Scarcely could a nod of the head be obtained from him by dint of
importunity. At length he strove to get some rest: but a feverish
anxiety prevented him from closing his eyes. During all the rest of that
cruel night he kept rising, lying down again, and calling incessantly,
but yet not a single word betrayed his distress: it was only from the
agitation of his body that the anguish of his mind was to be inferred.

About four in the morning, one of his orderly officers, the Prince
d'Aremberg, came to inform him that under favour of the night, the woods
and some inequalities of ground, Cossacks were slipping in between him
and his advanced posts. The Emperor had just sent off Poniatowski on his
right to Kremenskoe. So little did he expect the enemy from that side,
that he had neglected to order out any scouts on his right flank. He
therefore slighted the report of his orderly officer.

No sooner did the sun appear above the horizon on the 25th, than he
mounted his horse, and advanced on the Kalouga road, which to him was
now nothing more than the road to Malo-Yaroslawetz. To reach the bridge
of that town, he had to cross the plain, about a league in length and
breadth, embraced by the bend of the Louja: a few officers only attended
him. The four squadrons of his usual escort, not having been previously
apprised, hastened to rejoin, but had not yet overtaken him. The road
was covered with sick-waggons, artillery, and vehicles of luxury: it was
the interior of the army, and every one was marching on without
mistrust.

In the distance, towards the right, a few small bodies of men were first
seen running, and then large black lines advancing. Outcries were
presently heard: some women and attendants on the army were met running
back, too much affrighted and out of breath, either to listen to any
thing, or to answer any question. At the same time the file of vehicles
stopped in uncertainty; disorder arose in it: some endeavoured to
proceed, others to turn back; they crossed, jostled and upset one
another: and the whole was soon a scene of complete uproar and
confusion.

The Emperor looked on and smiled, still advancing, and believing it to
be a groundless panic. His aides-de-camp suspected that it was Cossacks
whom they saw, but they marched in such regular platoons that they still
had doubts on the subject; and if those wretches had not howled at the
moment of attack, as they all do to stifle the sense of danger, it is
probable that Napoleon would not have escaped them. A circumstance which
increased the peril was, that their cries were at first mistaken for
acclamations, and their hurrahs for shouts of _Vive l'Empereur!_

It was Platof and six thousand Cossacks, who in the rear of our
victorious advanced-guard, had ventured to cross the river, the low
plain and the high road, carrying all before them; and it was at the
very moment when the Emperor, perfectly tranquil in the midst of his
army, and the windings of a deep river, was advancing, refusing belief
to so audacious a plan, that they put it in execution.

When they had once started, they approached with such speed, that Rapp
had but just time to say to the Emperor, "It is the Cossacks!--turn
back!" The Emperor, whose eyes deceived him, or who disliked running
away, stood firm, and was on the point of being surrounded, when Rapp
seized the bridle of his horse, and turned him round, crying. "Indeed
you must!" And really it was high time to fly, although Napoleon's pride
would not allow him to do so. He drew his sword, the Prince of
Neufchatel and the grand equerry did the same; then placing themselves
on the left side of the road, they waited the approach of the horde,
from which they were not forty paces distant. Rapp had barely time to
turn himself round to face these barbarians, when the foremost of them
thrust his lance into the chest of his horse with such violence as to
throw him down. The other aides-de-camp, and a few horse belonging to
the guard, extricated the general. This action, the bravery of
Lecoulteux, the efforts of a score of officers and chasseurs, and above
all the thirst of these barbarians for plunder, saved the Emperor. And
yet they needed only to have stretched out their hands and seized him;
for, at the same moment, the horde, in crossing the high road, overthrew
every thing before them, horses, men, and carriages, wounding and
killing some, and dragging them into the woods for the purpose of
plundering them; then, loosing the horses harnessed to the guns, they
took them along with them across the country. But they had only a
momentary victory; a triumph of surprise. The cavalry of the guard
galloped up; at this sight they let go their prey and fled; and this
torrent subsided, leaving indeed melancholy traces, but abandoning all
that it was hurrying away in its course.

Some of these barbarians, however, carried their audacity even to
insolence. They were seen retiring at a foot-pace across the interval
between our squadrons, and coolly reloading their arms. They reckoned
upon the heaviness of our cavalry of the _elite_, and the swiftness of
their own horses, which they urge with a whip. Their flight was effected
without disorder; they faced round several times, without waiting indeed
till within reach of fire, so that they left scarcely any wounded and
not one prisoner. At length they enticed us on to ravines covered with
bushes, where we were stopped by their artillery, which was waiting for
them. All this furnished subject for reflection. Our army was worn down;
and the war had begun again with new and undiminished spirit.

The Emperor, struck with astonishment that the enemy had dared to attack
him, halted until the plain was cleared; after which he returned to
Malo-Yaroslawetz, where the viceroy pointed out to him the obstacles
which had been conquered the preceding day.

The ground itself spoke sufficiently. Never was field of battle more
terribly eloquent. Its marked features; its ruins covered with blood;
the streets, the line of which could no longer be recognized but by the
long train of the dead, whose heads were crushed by the wheels of the
cannon, the wounded, who were still seen issuing from the rubbish and
crawling along, with their garments, their hair, and their limbs half
consumed by the fire, and uttering lamentable cries; finally, the
doleful sound of the last melancholy honours which the grenadiers were
paying to the remains of their colonels and generals who had been
slain--all attested the extreme obstinacy of the conflict. In this scene
the Emperor, it was said, beheld nothing but glory: he exclaimed, that
"the honour of so proud a day belonged exclusively to Prince Eugene."
This sight, nevertheless, aggravated the painful impression which had
already seized him. He then advanced to the elevated plain.




CHAP. IV.


Can you ever forget, comrades, the fatal field which put a stop to the
conquest of the world, where the victories of twenty years were blasted,
where the great edifice of our fortune began to totter to its
foundation? Do you not still figure to yourselves the blood-stained
ruins of that town, those deep ravines, and the woods which surround
that elevated plain and convert it, as it were, into a tented field? On
one side were the French, quitting the north, which they shunned; on the
other, at the entrance of the wood, were the Russians, guarding the
south, and striving to drive us back upon their mighty winter. In the
midst of this plain, between the two armies, was Napoleon, his steps and
his eyes wandering from south to west, along the roads to Kalouga and
Medyn, both which were closed against him. On that to Kalouga, were
Kutusoff and one hundred and twenty thousand men, ready to dispute with
him twenty leagues of defiles; towards Medyn he beheld a numerous
cavalry: it was Platof and those same hordes which had just penetrated
into the flank of the army, had traversed it through and through, and
burst forth, laden with booty, to form again on his right flank, where
reinforcements and artillery were waiting for them. It was on that side
that the eyes of the Emperor were fixed longest; it was there that he
received the reports of his officers and consulted his maps: then,
oppressed with regret and gloomy forebodings, he slowly returned to his
head-quarters.

Murat, Prince Eugene, Berthier, Davoust and Bessieres followed him. This
mean habitation of an obscure artisan contained within it an Emperor,
two Kings, and three Generals. Here they were about to decide the fate
of Europe, and of the army which had conquered it. Smolensk was the
goal. Should they march thither by Kalouga, Medyn or Mojaisk? Napoleon
was seated at a table, his head supported by his hands, which concealed
his features, as well as the anguish which they no doubt expressed.

A silence fraught with such imminent destinies continued to be
respected, until Murat, whose actions were always the result of
impetuous feeling, became weary of this hesitation. Yielding to the
dictates of his genius, which was wholly directed by his ardent
temperament, he was eager to burst from that uncertainty, by one of
those first movements which elevate to glory, or hurry to destruction.

Rising, he exclaimed, that "he might possibly be again accused of
imprudence, but that in war circumstances decided and gave to every
thing its name; that where there is no other course than to attack,
prudence becomes temerity and temerity prudence; that to stop was
impossible, to fly dangerous, consequently they ought to pursue. What
signified the menacing attitude of the Russians and their impenetrable
woods? For his part he cared not for them. Give him but the remnant of
his cavalry, and that of the guard, and he would force his way into
their forests and their battalions, overthrow all before him, and open
anew to the army the road to Kalouga."

Here Napoleon, raising his head, extinguished all this fire, by saying,
that "we had exhibited temerity enough already; that we had done too
much for glory, and it was high time to give up thinking of any thing
but how to save the rest of the army."

Bessieres, either because his pride revolted from the idea of obeying
the King of Naples, or from a desire to preserve uninjured the cavalry
of the guard, which he had formed, for which he was answerable to
Napoleon, and which he exclusively commanded; Bessieres, finding himself
supported, then ventured to add, that "neither the army nor even the
guard had sufficient spirit left for such efforts. It was already said
in both, that as the means of conveyance were inadequate, henceforth the
victor, if overtaken, would fall a prey to the vanquished; that of
course every wound would be mortal. Murat would therefore be but feebly
seconded. And in what a position! its strength had just been but too
well demonstrated. Against what enemies! had they not remarked the field
of the preceding day's battle, and with what fury the Russian recruits,
only just armed and clothed, had there fought and fell?" The Marshal
concluded by voting in favour of retreat, which the Emperor approved by
his silence.

The Prince of Eckmuehl immediately observed, that, "as a retreat was
decided upon, he proposed that it should be by Medyn and Smolensk." But
Murat interrupted Davoust, and whether from enmity or from that
discouragement which usually succeeds the rejection of a rash measure,
he declared his astonishment, "that any one should dare to propose so
imprudent a step to the Emperor. Had Davoust sworn the destruction of
the army? Would he have so long and so heavy a column trail along,
without guides and in uncertainty, on an unknown track, within reach of
Kutusoff, presenting its flank to all the attacks of the enemy? Would
he, Davoust, defend it? Why--when in our rear Borowsk and Vereia would
lead us without danger to Mojaisk--why reject that safe route? There,
provisions must have been collected, there every thing was known to us,
and we could not be misled by any traitor."

At these words Davoust, burning with a rage which he had great
difficulty to repress, replied, that "he proposed a retreat through a
fertile country, by an untouched, plentiful and well supplied route,
villages still standing, and by the shortest road, that the enemy might
not avail himself of it, to cut us off from the route from Mojaisk to
Smolensk, recommended by Murat. And what a route! a desert of sand and
ashes, where convoys of wounded would increase our embarrassment, where
we should meet with nothing but ruins, traces of blood, skeletons and
famine!

"Moreover, though he deemed it his duty to give his opinion when it was
asked, he was ready to obey orders contrary to it with the same zeal as
if they were consonant with his suggestions; but that the Emperor alone
had a right to impose silence on him, and not Murat, who was not his
Sovereign, and never should be!"

The quarrel growing warm, Bessieres and Berthier interposed. As for the
Emperor, still absorbed in the same attitude, he appeared insensible to
what was passing. At length he broke up this council with the words,
"Well, gentlemen, I will decide."

He decided on retreat, and by that road which would carry him most
speedily to a distance from the enemy; but it required another desperate
effort before he could bring himself to give an order of march so new to
him. So painful was this effort, that in the inward struggle which it
occasioned, he lost the use of his senses. Those who attended him have
asserted, that the report of another warm affair with the Cossacks,
towards Borowsk, a few leagues in the rear of the army, was the last
shock which induced him finally to adopt this fatal resolution.

It is a remarkable fact, that he issued orders for this retreat
northward, at the very moment that Kutusoff and his Russians, dismayed
by the defeat of Malo-Yaroslawetz, were retiring southward.




CHAP. V.


The very same night a similar anxiety had agitated the Russian camp.
During the combat of Malo-Yaroslawetz, Kutusoff had approached the field
of battle, groping his way, as it were, pausing at every step, and
examining the ground, as if he was afraid of its sinking beneath him; he
did not send off the different corps which were dispatched to the
assistance of Doctorof, till the orders for that purpose were absolutely
extorted from him. He durst not place himself in person across
Napoleon's way, till an hour when general battles are not to be
apprehended.

Wilson, warm from the action, then hastened to him.--Wilson, that active
bustling Englishman, whom we had seen in Egypt, in Spain, and every
where else, the enemy of the French and of Napoleon. He was the
representative of the allies in the Russian army; he was in the midst of
Kutusoff's army an independent man, an observer, nay, even a
judge--infallible motives of aversion; his presence was odious to the
old Russian general; and as hatred never fails to beget hatred, both
cordially detested each other.

Wilson reproached him with his excessive dilatoriness; he reminded him
that five times in one day it had caused them to lose the victory, in
the battle of Vinkowo, on the 18th of October. In fact, on that day
Murat would have been destroyed, had Kutusoff fully occupied the front
of the French by a brisk attack, while Beningsen was turning their left
wing. But either from negligence, or that tardiness which is the fault
of age, or as several Russians assert, because Kutusoff was more envious
of Beningsen than inimical to Napoleon, the veteran had attacked too
faintly, and too late, and had stopped too soon.

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