CHECK TO THE GRAND ARMY: EYLAU[2]
[Footnote 2: References more specifically valuable for this
and the next chapter are Haeusser, Czartoryski, Marbot,
Lejeune, Oudinot, Lettow-Vorbeck, Sir R. Wilson, with the
Castlereagh Letters and Napoleon's Correspondence.]
Napoleon's Preparations -- His Clever Strategy -- The Plan
Discovered by the Russians -- The Armies at Eylau -- Failure of
Napoleon's Tactics -- The Battle Indecisive -- The French Army
Demoralized -- Napoleon's Anxiety -- His Army in Winter Quarters
-- The Emperor's Activity -- Rearrangement of his Forces -- An
Envoy from the Shah of Persia -- Reinforcements from France and
Germany -- The Neutrality of Austria.
[Sidenote: 1807]
It was not a very rude shock to his sensuous ease, however, when on
January twenty-seventh, 1807, Napoleon received the news of
Bennigsen's march. In a general way he had been aware for some days
that the enemy was moving, but he believed they had no other intention
than to derive what immediate advantage could be had from Ney's
rashness. In the absence of fuller information he had not changed his
opinion, but the army was nevertheless put in readiness, the trains
were equipped, and orders were issued for abandoning temporarily the
siege of Dantzic and for the complete occupation of Thorn. This step
was taken, as a glance at the map will show, to insure a new line of
connection with Posen and Berlin, directly in front of his base, in
case the oblique one he was holding between Warsaw and Bartenstein
should be endangered by a flank movement of the Russians.
Believing that Bennigsen's plan was to reach Elbing and defend his
communications with Dantzic, Napoleon issued orders on January
twenty-seventh for a countermarch in that direction, to engage him
either there or farther to the eastward. The orders given next day to
Davout and Augereau show that by swift movements he hoped to attack at
Willenberg, break through Bennigsen's center, and scatter his forces
right and left. Lannes had been taken ill after Pultusk, and was still
an invalid; Savary was therefore put in command of his well-tried
corps to bear the brunt of the battle. His business was to cover the
line of the Narew for the purpose of assuring freedom of action to the
main French army, and with that end in view to attack the Russian
corps under Essen, which was menacing it. Three days after the orders
of Napoleon were given, his army of a hundred thousand men was in
position on a line running in general east and west within the space
bounded by Willenberg, Gilgenburg, Mlawa, and Przasnysz, with one
reserve of forty thousand on the left, to prevent the loss of Thorn,
and another of fourteen thousand on the right. Everything was in
readiness for an advance under the most advantageous circumstances, to
take Bennigsen by surprise, strike him on his flank, and close the
campaign in a single battle. On January thirty-first the final orders
were issued for the advance, and the march began. As in Franconia, on
the eve of Jena, it seemed as if the victory were already assured, won
by the marvelous moving of great bodies of men, this time in the depth
of winter.
[Illustration: Map of the Battle of Eylau.]
On what a slender thread hang the fortunes of war! That day a French
courier carrying to Bernadotte a particularly detailed account of the
Emperor's plan, and orders to advance to Gilgenburg, was caught by the
Cossacks. The precious papers were in Bennigsen's hands next morning.
The Russian troops were still in a wretched condition, badly clothed,
and sustaining life by marauding; moreover, they numbered but sixty-five
thousand, Lestocq not yet having come in from Mohrungen. The Russian
general saw how he was entrapped, and that he could escape only by a
swift retreat. His conduct of the movement was masterly, and on February
sixth, though the French columns were not far behind, he had reached
Heilsberg. During the day the Russian rear-guard was driven in, and
Bennigsen, marching all night, found himself next morning before the
town of Eylau, or, more precisely, Preussisch-Eylau, the spot he had
selected for a desperate stand in defense of Koenigsberg. The Russian
rear-guard was again overtaken, this time at Landsberg, where Murat
arrived with his cavalry on the morning of the seventh. All day the
Russians slowly resisted him, fighting bravely under Prince Bagration,
and receding steadily as far as Eylau, which they held by a stubborn
stand until induced to evacuate it voluntarily by the considerations of
gathering darkness and a foe superior in numbers. Their loss during the
day was upward of two thousand. When night fell the Russian lines were a
short distance behind Eylau, and stretched two miles, from Serpalten on
the left to Schloditten on the right. Lestocq, coming up with his
Prussians, had reached Rositten, between nine and ten miles away, where
he received orders to hurry onward. The French held the town of Eylau;
in and near it were the troops of Murat, Soult, Augereau, and just in
their rear the Emperor with the guard. Ney was farther to the north and
west on the left, with orders to cut off Lestocq. The terrain abounded
in lakes and ponds of considerable size, but a black frost had rendered
them so hard, and the snow had so completely bedecked them, that they
were for the purposes of manoeuvering as available as the solid
earth, both for cavalry and artillery.
When day broke on February eighth the general arrangement of the
hostile lines was such as to favor neither. Soult was before the town
on the French left, Augereau in the center, and Saint-Hilaire with one
division of Soult on the right. Behind the two latter was Murat with
the cavalry; in the rear, on rising ground, was the guard under
Bessieres as a reserve. Davout was far out on the right near
Bartenstein. The total number of French on the ground was about eighty
thousand. The Russian right was commanded by Tutschkoff, the center by
Sacken, the left by Ostermann-Tolstoi; their reserve was behind the
center, under Doctoroff and Prince Galitzin. Their total number was
about fifty-eight thousand, but they were superior to their enemy in
artillery. Between the armies, in a low plain, lay several of the
frozen ponds, covered with snow. Napoleon's plan was to send Davout
around the Russian left flank, while Saint-Hilaire engaged Tolstoi.
Augereau and the cavalry were to be hurled against the center and to
push toward the enemy's right; the combined onset would roll up
Bennigsen's entire line and result in a rout; Ney would intervene, and
make the battle not only decisive, but annihilating.
The combination did not work out correctly. It was a raw and bitter
day; during the morning there were occasional snow flurries, and at
midday a heavy downfall. Bennigsen seized the initiative, and opened
the battle by a cannonade. Napoleon, divining his plan, sent a
messenger for Ney to come and strengthen Soult. At nine the Russian
right advanced and drove in the French left, which was weak, to the
town. At that moment the order was given for Augereau and
Saint-Hilaire to move. In the driving storm they lost connection with
each other, and the latter was repulsed by Russian cavalry, while
Augereau's corps was almost destroyed by the enemy's center. The
dashing horsemen of Galitzin reached the foot of the very hill on
which Napoleon stood, and a panic seized all about him, not excepting
Berthier and Bessieres, who excitedly called up the guard to save
their Emperor. The Emperor, though almost "trodden under foot" as
Bertrand testified, nevertheless remained calm, exclaiming, "What
boldness! What boldness!" The pursuers fell back exhausted, and Murat
in turn dashed with his cavalry toward the gap between the enemy's
center and right. So worn out were both sides, however, that without a
collision they ceased to charge, and began to fire.
About noon Davout at last arrived on the Russian left, and drove it
from its position, while Saint-Hilaire again charged, and the two in
combination effected the movement contemplated by the Emperor. In a
few hours the Russians, who were receding in fair order and fighting
fiercely, began to waver, and some of the formations broke into
flight. In this crisis Scharnhorst arrived with five thousand
Prussians; he had been compelled to make a long detour in order to
avoid Ney, with whom Lestocq had been engaged. By nightfall the French
were brought to a stand, and soon after they were driven back from the
hamlets which they had seized in their advance. Night ended the fight.
Ney had not received his orders until two in the afternoon, and
arrived too late for service. The armies retained their relative
positions, and both claimed the day. Neither had lost, neither had
gained, the field. But the battle was disastrous for both: from first
to last the struggle had been desperate and bloody. The losses were
virtually equal--about eighteen thousand men on each side. During the
evening Napoleon began to arrange a retreat; in fact, Davout was
about to begin it when he learned that there was a great commotion in
the enemy's bivouac. Advancing as far as possible, the marshal put his
ear to the ground and distinctly noted a diminishing rumble, which
convinced him that the Russians were withdrawing. This was an
agreeable surprise, and Napoleon, when informed of the fact, ordered
his army to stand fast. The morning light displayed an abandoned
Russian camp.
It is impossible to tell which army was in the worse plight; both were
in the utmost distress. Augereau had been wounded, and, though not
disabled, had left the field. This brought down on him the commander's
displeasure, and inasmuch as his corps was nearly annihilated, it was
disbanded; some of his regiments were virtually destroyed. The living
were gaunt, exhausted, and ill with hunger; an eye-witness declared
that but for the arrival, about noon, of some Jewish traders from
Warsaw with four tuns of brandy, thousands would have perished from
cold and fatigue. The dead were strewn thick over the field, and in
some places were piled in heaps. On the white background of a Northern
winter the carnage was terribly apparent; the prowlers who skulked
from place to place in search of booty could be distinguished in all
directions. Marauding began on a frightful scale, discipline was
slackened by misery, and for miles around thousands of wretched
soldiers stripped the scarcely less wretched peasantry of their few
remaining bits of property.
The army was eager to be gone from these sickening sights. But
Bennigsen had technically admitted defeat by his withdrawal, which the
Prussians characterized as "a sin and a shame." Napoleon, therefore,
waited to secure his victory, and formally despatched a few parties in
pursuit. Murat advanced to within touch of Bennigsen, who had taken
his position under the walls of Koenigsberg. At the same time the
Emperor dictated a glowing account of the French triumph and of the
admirable condition of the army. It was at once despatched for
publication in the official journals of Paris. Soon afterward, on
February thirteenth, a messenger carried to Frederick William verbal
proposals for either an armistice or a separate peace on most
favorable terms. In these Napoleon set forth that the relation of
Prussia to Russia was mere vassalage, and that her rehabilitation as
an independent power was essential to the peace of Europe, agreeing to
restore her lands as far as the Elbe, and saying that as to Poland he
cared nothing whatever. The confident feeling of the allies was shown
by the Prussian king's prompt refusal to accept such overtures, and by
his determination to abide by the issue. On the other hand, the mere
fact of the proposition was evidence of Napoleon's anxiety. It is said
on good authority that the French emissary verbally offered the
complete restoration of Prussia if she would desert her ally.
Stern necessity would wait no longer on Napoleon's bravado; in a few
days his troops withdrew to the tableland behind the river Passarge.
There they found better cantonments, but the food was neither better
nor more abundant. The Emperor had only a thatched hovel for his
headquarters at Osterode, and, as he wrote to his brother Joseph,
lived in snow and filth, without wine, brandy, or bread. "We shall be
in fine condition when we get bread," he said to Soult. "My position
would be fine if I had food; the lack of food makes it only moderate,"
he wrote, on February twenty-seventh, to Talleyrand. This was true,
because now the army was more concentrated than before; and when
headquarters were moved in the spring to Finkenstein the Emperor was
more comfortable. The movements culminating in Pultusk clearly prove
that Napoleon could not until then adapt his means to the novel
conditions of warfare he found in Poland. But in the movements
antecedent to Eylau there are, in spite of virtual defeat, a clear
apprehension of the difficulties, and an evident ability to surmount
them. While Bennigsen constantly assumes the offensive, Napoleon
always seizes the initiative, and in the retreat his choice of the
plateau around Osterode as a rallying-point displays a continued
mastery of all the conditions.
Around the camp-fires there was, during the remaining months of
winter, a passive endurance, mingled with some murmuring about the
horrors caused by one man's ambition. The Emperor set his men an
example of uncomplaining cheerfulness. His health continued as
exuberant as it had been for the year past, and his activity, though
no longer feverish, lost nothing of its intensity. Savary thought he
outdid himself, accomplishing in one month what elsewhere would have
been, even for him, the work of three. Mme. de Remusat remembered to
have heard him say that he felt better during those months than ever
before or after. This vigor of body, combined with the same iron
determination as of old, did indeed work miracles, and this in spite
of the fact that his indefatigable secretary, Maret, was long at the
point of death.
To remedy the blunder of having left Dantzic behind in the hands of
the Prussians, Lefebvre was despatched with his new corps to beleaguer
it. Savary drove the Russians from the Narew and out of Ostrolenka;
Mortier threatened Stralsund and stopped the Swedes, who, as members
of the coalition, were finally about to take an active share in the
fighting. To strengthen the weakened ranks of the invaders, new levies
were ordered in both Switzerland and Poland, while at the same time
some of the soldiers occupying Silesia and besieging her fortresses
were called in. Both Neisse and Glatz were still beset by French
troops, but the siege of Kolberg was abandoned, and still further
reinforcements thus became available. In the daily skirmishes which
occurred at the outposts the fighting was sharp; but the Cossacks were
as saucy as ever, and the French light horse could bring in little
news. Meantime Russia's difficulties, of which Napoleon remained
ignorant, kept her from reinforcing her army to the proper size. Her
credit was so low that she could raise no money on her own account,
and when she applied to England for a subsidy, it was refused. The
Czar was consequently furious, and strained Russia's resources to the
utmost; but he could give Bennigsen no more than enough funds and men
to restore his original strength.
The arms of Russia had been fairly successful on the lower Danube, for
the Turks had been paralyzed by an unforeseen danger. Great Britain
had sent a fleet to Constantinople, and the Sultan, though he
immediately declared war against England, was terrified. But
Napoleon's emissary, Sebastiani, engaged the English admiral in
negotiations until the shore batteries were sufficiently strengthened
to compel the British fleet to retire. Filled by this success with new
enthusiasm for his Eastern projects, the Emperor of the French devised
and set on foot a scheme for the alliance of Turkey and Persia in
order to checkmate the ambitions of either Russia or Austria. About
the end of April an envoy from the Shah arrived at Finkenstein. He was
received with great demonstrations, and France was delighted to see
the kings of the East seeking, as she believed, her Emperor's favor.
Napoleon's information with regard to the Orient was detailed and
accurate; his knowledge of the Eastern character was fraternally
instinctive. A treaty was easily negotiated in which France promised
to drive Russia from Georgia and to supply Persia with artillery; in
return the Shah was to break with England, confiscate British
property, instigate the peoples of Afghanistan and Kandahar to
rebellion, set on foot an army to invade India, and in case the French
should also despatch a land force against India, he was to give them
free passage along a line of march to be subsequently laid out,
together with means of sustenance. None of the Emperor's achievements
during this eventful winter shows more clearly than this how he could
rise above the discouragements of a doubtful situation, and how
sanguine his disposition was when his health was really good.
Throughout the late campaign the Emperor Francis had occupied a
position of non-intervention and hesitating neutrality similar to that
of Frederick William the year before. If he had intervened any time
during the winter after Eylau, his will would have been imperative.
But as Prussia had held off in his hour of need, leaving Napoleon
untrammeled, so now he let Prussia drink of the same cup, and remained
nominally neutral. Andreossy reported, however, that Austria's
strength was being rapidly recruited, and that her preparations
foreboded a renewal of hostilities. There was a new prime minister,
Count Stadion, remarkable for his energy and insight. Napoleon
immediately began to make propositions for an alliance, intended
merely to gain time. As he had the previous year called for the boy
conscripts of 1807, so he now demanded those for 1808, who were even
somewhat younger. The Confederacy of the Rhine was summoned to supply
fresh troops, and even Spain, in which there had recently been
symptoms of serious uneasiness, was called on for a large contingent
of auxiliaries. Before the close of negotiations with Francis,
Napoleon had virtually doubled his army; the new levies were kept in
Silesia and central Prussia, apparently as a reserve, but they were
not far from the Austrian frontier.
On May twenty-sixth, in spite of a gallant and persistent defense by
Kalkreuth, Dantzic, the queen fortress of the Baltic, capitulated.
This made Lefebvre's force available to strengthen further the army
which still lay behind the Passarge. Napoleon again offered Silesia to
Francis, this time entire and outright, as the price of an alliance;
he was even willing to make an exchange for Dalmatia. On April
twenty-sixth, at Bartenstein, Russia and Prussia had signed a new
treaty, according to which they bound themselves to make no separate
peace, and agreed that they would endeavor to unite the Scandinavian
powers with England, Austria, and themselves for a general war of
liberation. The Viennese cabinet was again divided on the question of
renewing hostilities, and in the end proposed its services as a
mediator, provided that Poland should remain divided and Turkey
unmolested, and that German affairs should be rearranged. Napoleon
coquetted with this proposal until Russia and Prussia gave their
reply, which was not an assent to Austria's proposition, but a request
for Francis's adherence to the convention of Bartenstein.[3] When
Austria's offer was thus refused the French position was virtually
secure as against her, at least for the season. Shrewd onlookers could
hardly credit their senses, and thought that so far from Francis's
policy being one of neutrality, it was a favor of the highest
importance to Napoleon. The fact was that Austria knew Prussia's
weakness and had little confidence in Russia's strength. Moreover,
France had powerful friends in Vienna, where Andreossy was
influential, and Austria's own preparations were not complete. It
would be a serious matter if she should conclude a treaty with two
allies who might be beaten before she could herself take the field.
Hence nothing disturbed the impenetrable front of the Danube power;
her own plans were maturing slowly but surely, and while the enormous
French reinforcements in central Europe were in a sense a menace, she
threw a strong military cordon upon the frontiers of Galicia, and
haughtily held aloof from anything likely to fetter her own ambitions.
[Footnote 3: On the refusal of Russia and Prussia to join
Austria, see Vandal: Napoleon et Alexandre Ier, Vol. I,
Chapitre Preliminaire.]