Book: History of the Expedition to Russia

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




Persons, who were eye-witnesses, assert that a complete tumult and
disorder then ensued; that the disbanded men, the women, and the
attendants, ran over one another, and broke quite through the ranks;
that, in short, there was a moment when this unfortunate army was but a
shapeless mass, a mere rabble rout whirling round and round. All seemed
to be lost; but the coolness of the Prince and the efforts of the
officers saved all. The best men disengaged themselves; the ranks were
again formed. They advanced, firing a few volleys, and the enemy, who
had every thing on his side excepting courage, the only advantage yet
left us, opened and retired, confining himself to a mere demonstration.

The army took his place still warm in that town, beyond which he went to
bivouac, and to prepare similar surprises to the very gates of Smolensk.
For this disaster at the Wop had made the Viceroy give up the idea of
separating from the Emperor; there these hordes grew bolder; they
surrounded the 14th division. When Prince Eugene would have gone to its
relief, the men and their officers, stiffened with a cold of twenty
degrees, which the wind rendered most piercing, continued stretched on
the warm ashes of their fires. To no purpose did he point out to them
their comrades surrounded, the enemy approaching, the bullets and balls
which were already reaching them; they refused to rise, protesting that
they would rather perish than any longer have to endure such cruel
hardships. The vedettes themselves had abandoned their posts. Prince
Eugene nevertheless contrived to save his rear-guard.

It was in returning with it towards Smolensk that his stragglers had
been driven back on Ney's troops, to whom they communicated their panic;
all hurried together towards the Dnieper; here they crowded together at
the entrance of the bridge, without thinking of defending themselves,
when a charge made by the 4th regiment stopped the advance of the enemy.

Its colonel, young Fezenzac, contrived to infuse fresh life into these
men who were half perished with cold. There, as in every thing that can
be called action, was manifested the superiority of the sentiments of
the soul over the sensations of the body; for every physical sensation
tended to encourage despondency and flight; nature advised it with her
hundred most urgent voices; and yet a few words of honour were
sufficient to produce the most heroic devotedness. The soldiers of the
4th regiment rushed like furies upon the enemy, against the mountain of
snow and ice of which he had taken possession, and in the teeth of the
northern hurricane, for they had every thing against them. Ney himself
was obliged to moderate their impetuosity.

A reproach from their colonel effected this change. These private
soldiers devoted themselves, that they might not be wanting to their own
characters, from that instinct which requires courage in a man, as well
as from habit and the love of glory. A splendid word for so obscure a
situation! For, what is the glory of a common soldier, who perishes
unseen, who is neither praised, censured, nor regretted, but by his own
division of a company! The circle of each, however, is sufficient for
him: a small society embraces the same passions as a large one. The
proportions of the bodies differ; but they are composed of the same
elements; it is the same life that animates them, and the looks of a
platoon stimulate a soldier, just as those of an army inflame a general.




CHAP. XIV.


At length the army again beheld Smolensk; it approached the term so
often held forth to its sufferings. The soldiers pointed it out to each
other. There was that land of promise where their famine was to find
abundance, their fatigue rest; where bivouacs in a cold of nineteen
degrees would be forgotten in houses warmed by good fires. There they
should enjoy refreshing sleep; there they might repair their apparel;
there they should be furnished with new shoes and garments adapted to
the climate.

At this sight, the corps _d'elite_, some soldiers, and the veteran
regiments, alone kept their ranks; the rest ran forward with all
possible speed. Thousands of men, chiefly unarmed, covered the two steep
banks of the Borysthenes: they crowded in masses round the lofty walls
and gates of the city; but their disorderly multitude, their haggard
faces, begrimed with dirt and smoke, their tattered uniforms and the
grotesque habiliments which they had substituted for them, in short,
their strange, hideous look, and their extreme ardour, excited alarm. It
was conceived that if the irruption of this crowd, maddened with hunger,
were not repelled, a general pillage would be the consequence, and the
gates were closed against it.

It was also hoped that by this rigour these men would be forced to
rally. A horrid struggle between order and disorder then commenced in
the remnant of that unfortunate army. In vain did some entreat, weep,
conjure, threaten, strive to burst the gates, and drop down dead at the
feet of their comrades, who had orders to repel them; they found them
inexorable: they were forced to await the arrival of the first troops,
who were still officered and in order.

These were the old and young guard. It was not till afterwards that the
disbanded men were allowed to enter; they and the other corps which
arrived in succession, from the 8th to the 14th, believed that their
entry had been delayed merely to give more rest and more provisions to
this guard. Their sufferings rendered them unjust; they execrated it.
"Were they then to be for ever sacrificed to this privileged class,
fellows kept for mere parade, who were never foremost but at reviews,
festivities, and distributions? Was the army always to put up with their
leavings; and in order to obtain them, was it always to wait till they
had glutted themselves?" It was impossible to tell them in reply, that
to attempt to save all was the way to lose all; that it was necessary to
keep at least one corps entire, and to give the preference to that which
in the last extremity would be capable of making the most powerful
effort.

At last, however, these poor creatures were admitted into that Smolensk
for which they had so ardently wished; they had left the banks of the
Borysthenes strewed with the dying bodies of the weakest of their
number; impatience and several hours' waiting had finished them. They
left others on the icy steep which they had to climb to reach the upper
town. The rest ran to the magazines, and there more of them expired
while they beset the doors; for they were again repulsed. "Who were
they? to what corps did they belong? what had they to show for it? The
persons who had to distribute the provisions were responsible for them;
they had orders to deliver them only to authorized officers, bringing
receipts, for which they could exchange the rations committed to their
care." Those who applied had no officers; nor could they tell where
their regiments were. Two thirds of the army were in this predicament.

These unfortunate men then dispersed through the streets, having no
longer any other hope than pillage. But horses dissected to the very
bones every where denoted a famine; the doors and windows of the houses
had been all broken and torn away to feed the bivouac-fires: they found
no shelter in them, no winter-quarters prepared, no wood. The sick and
wounded were left in the streets, in the carts which had brought them.
It was again, it was still the fatal high-road, passing through an empty
name; it was a new bivouac among deceitful ruins; colder even than the
forests which they had just quitted.

Then only did these disorganized troops seek their colours; they
rejoined them for a moment in order to obtain food; but all the bread
that could be baked had been distributed: there was no more biscuit, no
butcher's meat, rye-flour, dry vegetables, and spirits were delivered
out to them. It required the most strenuous efforts to prevent the
detachments of the different corps from murdering one another at the
doors of the magazines: and when, after long formalities, their wretched
fare was delivered to them, the soldiers refused to carry it to their
regiments; they fell upon their sacks, snatched out of them a few pounds
of flour, and ran to hide themselves till they had devoured it. The same
was the case with the spirits. Next day the houses were found full of
the bodies of these unfortunate wretches.

In short, that fatal Smolensk, which the army had looked forward to as
the term of its sufferings, marked only their commencement.
Inexpressible hardships awaited us: we had yet to march forty days under
that yoke of iron. Some, already overloaded with present miseries, sunk
under the alarming prospect of those which awaited them. Others revolted
against their destiny; finding they had nothing to rely on but
themselves, they resolved to live at any rate.

Henceforward, according as they found themselves the stronger or the
weaker, they plundered their dying companions by violence or stealth, of
their subsistence, their garments, and even the gold, with which they
had filled their knapsacks instead of provisions. These wretches, whom
despair had made robbers, then threw away their arms to save their
infamous booty, profiting by the general condition, an obscure name, a
uniform no longer distinguishable, and night, in short, by all kinds of
obscurities, favourable to cowardice and guilt. If works already
published had not exaggerated these horrors, I should have passed in
silence details so disgusting; for these atrocities were rare, and
justice was dealt to the most criminal.

The Emperor arrived on the 9th of November, amid this scene of
desolation. He shut himself up in one of the houses in the new square,
and never quitted it till the 14th, to continue his retreat. He had
calculated upon fifteen days' provisions and forage for an army of one
hundred thousand men; there was not more than half the quantity of
flour, rice, and spirits, and no meat at all. Cries of rage were set up
against one of the persons appointed to provide these supplies. The
commissary saved his life only by crawling for a long time on his knees
at the feet of Napoleon. Probably the reasons which he assigned did more
for him than his supplications.

"When he arrived," he said, "bands of stragglers, whom, when advancing,
the army left behind it, had, as it were, involved Smolensk in terror
and destruction. The men died there of hunger as upon the road. When
some degree of order had been restored, the Jews alone had at first
offered to furnish the necessary provisions. More generous motives
subsequently engaged the aid of some Lithuanian noblemen. At length the
foremost of the long convoys of provisions collected in Germany
appeared. These were the carriages called _comtoises_, and were the only
ones which had traversed the sands of Lithuania; they brought no more
than two hundred quintals of flour and rice; several hundred German and
Italian bullocks had also arrived with them.

"Meanwhile the accumulation of dead bodies in the houses, courts, and
gardens, and their unwholesome effluvia, infected the air. The dead were
killing the living. The civil officers as well as many of the military
were attacked: some had become to all appearance idiots, weeping or
fixing their hollow eyes stedfastly on the ground. There were others
whose hair had become stiff, erect, and ropy, and who, amidst a torrent
of blasphemies, a horrid convulsion, or a still more frightful laugh,
had dropped down dead.

"At the same time it had been found necessary to kill without delay the
greatest part of the cattle brought from Germany and Italy. These
animals would neither walk any farther, nor eat. Their eyes, sunk in
their sockets, were dull and motionless. They were killed without
seeking to avoid the fatal blow. Other misfortunes followed: several
convoys were intercepted, magazines taken, and a drove of eight hundred
oxen had just been carried off from Krasnoe."

This man added, that "regard ought also to be had to the great quantity
of detachments which had passed through Smolensk; to the stay which
Marshal Victor, twenty-eight thousand men, and about fifteen thousand
sick, had made there; to the multitude of posts and marauders whom the
insurrection and the approach of the enemy had driven back into the
city. All had subsisted upon the magazines; it had been necessary to
deliver out nearly sixty thousand rations per day; and lastly,
provisions and cattle had been sent forward towards Moscow as far as
Mojaisk and towards Kalouga as far as Yelnia."

Many of these allegations were well founded. A chain of other magazines
had been formed from Smolensk to Minsk and Wilna. These two towns were
in a still greater degree than Smolensk, centres of provisioning, of
which the fortresses of the Vistula formed the first line. The total
quantity of provisions distributed over this space was incalculable; the
efforts for transporting them thither gigantic, and the result little
better than nothing. They were insufficient in that immensity.

Thus great expeditions are crushed by their own weight. Human limits had
been surpassed; the genius of Napoleon, in attempting to soar above
time, climate, and distances, had, as it were, lost itself in space:
great as was its measure, it had been beyond it.

For the rest, he was passionate, from necessity. He had not deceived
himself in regard to the inadequacy of his supplies. Alexander alone had
deceived him. Accustomed to triumph over every thing by the terror of
his name, and the astonishment produced by his audacity, he had ventured
his army, himself, his fortune, his all, on a first movement of
Alexander's. He was still the same man as in Egypt, at Marengo, Ulm, and
Esslingen; it was Ferdinand Cortes; it was the Macedonian burning his
ships, and above all solicitous, in spite of his troops, to penetrate
still farther into unknown Asia; finally, it was Caesar risking his whole
fortune in a fragile bark.




BOOK X.




CHAP. I.


The surprise of Vinkowo, however, that unexpected attack of Kutusoff in
front of Moscow, was only the spark of a great conflagration. On the
same day, at the same hour, the whole of Russia had resumed the
offensive. The general plan of the Russians was at once developed. The
inspection of the map became truly alarming.

On the 18th of October, at the very moment that the cannon of Kutusoff
were destroying Napoleon's illusions of glory and of peace,
Wittgenstein, at one hundred leagues in the rear of his left wing, had
thrown himself upon Polotsk; Tchitchakof, behind his right, and two
hundred leagues farther off, had taken advantage of his superiority over
Schwartzenberg; and both of them, one descending from the north, and the
other ascending from the south, were endeavouring to unite their forces
at Borizof.

This was the most difficult passage in our retreat, and both these
hostile armies were already close to it, at the time that Napoleon was
at the distance of twelve days' journey, with the winter, famine, and
the grand Russian army between them.

At Smolensk it was only suspected that Minsk was in danger; the officers
who were present at the loss of Polotsk gave the following details
respecting it:--

Ever since the battle of the 18th of August, which raised him to the
dignity of marshal, Saint Cyr had remained on the Russian bank of the
Duena, in possession of Polotsk, and of an entrenched camp in front of
its walls. This camp showed how easy it would have been for the whole
army to have taken up its winter quarters on the frontiers of Lithuania.
Its barracks, constructed by our soldiers, were more spacious than the
houses of the Russian peasantry, and equally warm: they were beautiful
military villages, properly entrenched, and equally protected from the
winter and from the enemy.

For two months the two armies carried on merely a war of partizans. With
the French its object was to extend themselves through the country in
search of provisions; on the part of the Russians, to strip them of what
they found. A war of this sort was entirely in favour of the Russians,
as our people, being ignorant of the country as well as of the language,
even of the names of the places where they attempted to enter, were
incessantly betrayed by the inhabitants, and even by their guides.

In consequence of these checks, and of hunger, and disease, the strength
of Saint Cyr's army was diminished one half, while that of Wittgenstein
had been more than doubled by the arrival of recruits. By the middle of
October, the Russian army at that point amounted to fifty-two thousand
men, while ours was only seventeen thousand. In this number must be
included the 6th corps, or the Bavarians, reduced from twenty-two
thousand to eighteen hundred men, and two thousand cavalry. The latter
were then absent; Saint Cyr being without forage, and uneasy respecting
the attempts of the enemy upon his flanks, had sent them to a
considerable distance up the river, with orders to return by the left
bank, in order to procure subsistence and to gain intelligence.

For this marshal was afraid of having his right turned by Wittgenstein
and his left by Steingell, who was advancing at the head of two
divisions of the army of Finland, which had recently arrived at Riga.
Saint Cyr had sent a very pressing letter to Macdonald, requesting him
to use his efforts to stop the march of these Russians, who would have
to pass his army, and to send him a reinforcement of fifteen thousand
men; or if he would not do that, to come himself with succours to that
amount, and take the command. In the same letter he also submitted to
Macdonald all his plans of attack and defence. But Macdonald did not
feel himself authorized to operate so important a movement without
orders. He distrusted Yorck, whom he perhaps suspected of an intention
of allowing the Russians to get possession of his park of besieging
artillery. His reply was that he must first of all think of defending
that, and he remained stationary.

In this state of affairs, the Russians became daily more and more
emboldened; and finally, on the 17th of October, the out-posts of Saint
Cyr were driven into his camp, and Wittgenstein possessed himself of all
the outlets of the woods which surround Polotsk. He threatened us with a
battle, which he did not believe we would venture to accept.

The French marshal, without orders from his Emperor, had been too late
in his determination to entrench himself. His works were only marked out
as much as was necessary, (not to cover their defenders), but to point
out the place where their efforts would be principally required. Their
left, resting on the Duena, and defended by batteries placed on the left
bank of the river, was the strongest. Their right was weak. The Polota,
a stream which flows into the Duena, separated them.

Wittgenstein sent Yatchwil to threaten the least accessible side, and
on the 18th he himself advanced against the other; at first with some
rashness, for two French squadrons, the only ones which Saint Cyr had
retained, overthrew his column in advance, took its artillery, and made
himself prisoner, it is said, without being aware of it; so that they
abandoned this general-in-chief, as an insignificant prize, when they
were forced by numbers to retreat.

Rushing from their woods, the Russians then exhibited their whole force,
and attacked Saint Cyr in the most furious manner. In one of the first
discharges of their musketry, the marshal was wounded by a ball. He
remained, however, in the midst of the troops, but being unable to
support himself, was obliged to be carried about. Wittgenstein's
determination to carry this point lasted as long as it was daylight. The
redoubts, which were defended by Maison, were taken and retaken seven
times. Seven times did Wittgenstein believe himself the conqueror; Saint
Cyr finally wore him out. Legrand and Maison remained in possession of
their entrenchments, which were bathed with the blood of the Russians.

But while on the right the victory appeared completely gained, on the
left every thing seemed to be lost: the eagerness of the Swiss and the
Croats was the cause of this reverse. Their rivalry had up to that
period wanted an opportunity of showing itself. From a too great anxiety
to show themselves worthy of belonging to the grand army, they acted
rashly. Having been placed carelessly in front of their position, in
order to draw on Yacthwil, they had, instead of abandoning the ground
which had been prepared for his destruction, rushed forward to meet his
masses, and were overwhelmed by numbers. The French artillery, being
prevented from firing on this medley, became useless, and our allies
were driven back into Polotsk.

It was then that the batteries on the left bank of the Duena discovered,
and were able to commence firing on the enemy, but instead of arresting,
they only quickened his march. The Russians under Yacthwil, in order to
avoid that fire, threw themselves with great rapidity into the ravine of
the Polota, by which they were about to penetrate into the town, when at
last three cannon, which were hastily directed against the head of their
column, and a last effort of the Swiss, succeeded in driving them back.
At five o'clock the battle terminated; the Russians retreated on all
sides into their woods, and fourteen thousand men had beat fifty
thousand.

The night which followed was perfectly tranquil, even to Saint Cyr. His
cavalry were deceived, and brought him wrong intelligence; they assured
him that no enemy had passed the Duena either above or below his
position: this was incorrect, as Steingell and thirteen thousand
Russians had crossed the river at Drissa, and gone up the left bank,
with the object of taking the marshal in the rear, and shutting him up
in Polotsk, between them, the Duena, and Wittgenstein.

The morning of the 19th exhibited the latter under arms, and making
every disposition for an attack, the signal for which he appeared to be
afraid of giving. Saint Cyr, however, was not to be deceived by these
appearances; he was satisfied that it was not his feeble entrenchments
which kept back an enterprising and numerous enemy, but that he was
doubtless waiting the effect of some manoeuvre, the signal of an
important co-operation, which could only be effected in his rear.

In fact, about ten o'clock in the morning, an aide-de-camp came in full
gallop from the other side of the river, with the intelligence, that
another hostile army, that of Steingell, was marching rapidly along the
Lithuanian side of the river, and that it had defeated the French
cavalry. He required immediate assistance, without which this fresh army
would speedily get in the rear of the camp and surround it. The news of
this engagement soon reached the army of Wittgenstein, where it excited
the greatest joy, while it carried dismay into the French camp. Their
position became dreadfully critical. Let any one figure to himself these
brave fellows, hemmed in, against a wooden town, by a force treble their
number, with a great river behind them, and no other means of retreat
but a bridge, the passage from which was threatened by another army.

It was in vain that Saint Cyr then weakened his force by three
regiments, which he dispatched to the other side to meet Steingell, and
whose march he contrived to conceal from Wittgenstein's observation.
Every moment the noise of the former's artillery was approaching nearer
and nearer to Polotsk. The batteries, which from the left side protected
the French camp, were now turned round, ready to fire upon this new
enemy. At sight of this, loud shouts of joy burst out from the whole of
Wittgenstein's line; but that officer still remained immoveable. To make
him begin it was not merely necessary that he should _hear_ Steingell;
he seemed absolutely determined to _see_ him make his appearance.

Meanwhile, all Saint Cyr's generals, in consternation, were surrounding
him, and urging him to order a retreat, which would soon become
impossible. Saint Cyr refused; convinced that the 50,000 Russians before
him under arms, and on the tiptoe of expectation, only waited for his
first retrograde movement to dart upon him, he remained immoveable,
availing himself of their unaccountable inaction, and still flattering
himself that night would cover Polotsk with its shades before Steingell
could make his appearance.

He has since confessed, that never in his life was his mind in such a
state of agitation. A thousand times, in the course of these three hours
of suspense, he was seen looking at his watch and at the sun; as if he
could hasten his setting.

At last, when Steingell was within half an hour's march of Polotsk, when
he had only to make a few efforts to appear in the plain, to reach the
bridge of the town, and shut out Saint Cyr from the only outlet by which
he could escape from Wittgenstein, he halted. Soon after, a thick fog,
which the French looked upon as an interposition from heaven, preceded
the approach of night, and shut out the three armies from the sight of
each other.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.