DRESDEN AND LEIPZIG
The militant Revolution had now attained its majority. It had to
confront an embattled Europe. Hitherto the jealousies or fears of the
Eastern Powers had prevented any effective union. The Austro-Prussian
league of 1792 was of the loosest description owing to the astute
neutrality of the Czarina Catherine. In 1798 and 1805 Prussia seemed
to imitate her policy, and only after Austria had been crushed did the
army of Frederick the Great try conclusions with Napoleon. In the Jena
and Friedland campaigns, the Hapsburgs played the part of the sulking
Achilles, and met their natural reward in 1809. The war of 1812
marshalled both Austria and Prussia as vassal States in Napoleon's
crusade against Russia. But it also brought salvation, and Napoleon's
fateful obstinacy during the negotiations at Prague virtually
compelled his own father-in-law to draw the sword against him.
Ostensibly, the points at issue were finally narrowed down to the
control of the Confederation of the Rhine, the ownership of North
Germany, and a few smaller points. But really there was a deeper
cause, the character of Napoleon.
The vindictiveness with which he had trampled on his foes, his almost
superhuman lust of domination, and the halting way in which he met all
overtures for a compromise--this it was that drove the Hapsburgs into
an alliance with their traditional foes. His conduct may be explained
on diverse grounds, as springing from the vendetta instincts of his
race, or from his still viewing events through the distorting medium
of the Continental System, or from his ingrained conviction that, at
bottom, rulers are influenced only by intimidation.
In any case, he had now succeeded in bringing about the very thing
which Charles James Fox had declared to be impossible. In opening the
negotiations for peace with France in April, 1806, our Foreign
Minister had declared to Talleyrand that "the project of combining the
whole of Europe against France is to the last degree chimerical." Yet
Great Britain and the Spanish patriots, after struggling alone against
the conqueror from 1808 to 1812, saw Russia, Sweden, Prussia, and
Austria, successively range themselves on their side. It is true, the
Germans of the Rhenish Confederation, the Italians, Swiss, and Danes
were still enrolled under the banners of the new Charlemagne; but,
with the exception of the last, they fought wearily or questioningly,
as for a cause that promised naught but barren triumphs and unending
strife.
Truly, the years that witnessed Napoleon's fall were fruitful in
paradox. The greatest political genius of the age, for lack of the
saving grace of moderation, had banded Europe against him: and the
most calculating of commanders had also given his enemies time to
frame an effective military combination. The Prussian General von
Boyen has told us in his Memoirs how dismayed ardent patriots were at
the conclusion of the armistice in June, and how slow even the wiser
heads were to see that it would benefit their cause. If Napoleon
needed it in order to train his raw conscripts and organize new
brigades of cavalry, the need of the allies was even greater. Their
resources were far less developed than his own. At Bautzen, their army
was much smaller; and Boyen states that had the Emperor pushed them
hard, driven the Russians back into Poland and called the Poles once
more to arms, the allies must have been in the most serious
straits.[342]
Napoleon, it is true, gained much by the armistice. His conscripts
profited immensely by the training of those nine weeks: his forces now
threatened Austria on the side of Bavaria and Illyria, as well as from
the newly intrenched camp south of Dresden: his cavalry was
re-recovering its old efficiency: Murat, in answer to his imperious
summons, ended his long vacillations and joined the army at Dresden on
August 14th.
Above all, the French now firmly held that great military barrier, the
River Elbe. Napoleon's obstinacy during the armistice was undoubtedly
fed by his boundless confidence in the strength of his military
position. In vain did his Marshals remind him that he was dangerously
far from France; that, if Austria drew the sword, she could cut him
off from the Rhine, and that the Saale, or even the Rhine itself,
would be a safer line of defence.--Ten battles lost, he retorted,
would scarcely force him to that last step. True, he now exposed his
line of communications with France; but if the art of war consisted in
never running any risk, glory would be the prize of mediocre minds. He
must have a complete triumph. The question was not of abandoning this
or that province: his political superiority was at stake. At Marengo,
Austerlitz, and Wagram, he was in greater danger. His forces now were
not _in the air_; they rested on the Elbe, on its fortresses, and on
Erfurt. Dresden was the pivot on which all his movements turned. His
enemies were spread out on a circumference stretching from Prague to
Berlin, while he was at the centre; and, operating on interior and
therefore shorter lines, he could outmarch and outmanoeuvre them.
"_But_," he concluded, "_where I am not my lieutenants must wait for
me without trusting anything to chance_. The allies cannot long act
together on lines so extended, and can I not reasonably hope sooner or
later to catch them in some false move? If they venture between my
fortified lines of the Elbe and the Rhine, I will enter Bohemia and
thus take them in the rear."[343]
The plan promised much. The central intrenched camps of Dresden and
Pirna, together with the fortresses of Königstein above, and of Torgau
below, the Saxon capital, gave great strategic advantages. The corps
of St. Cyr at Königstein and those of Vandamme, Poniatowski, and
Victor further to the east, watched the defiles leading from Bohemia.
The corps of Macdonald, Lauriston, Ney, and Marmont held in check
Blücher's army of Silesia. On Napoleon's left, and resting on the
fortresses of Wittenberg and Magdeburg, the corps of Oudinot,
Bertrand, and Reynier threatened Berlin and Bernadotte's army of the
north cantonned in its neighbourhood; while Davoust at Hamburg faced
Bernadotte's northern detachments and menaced his communications with
Stralsund. Davoust certainly was far away, and the loss of this ablest
of Napoleon's lieutenants was severely to be felt in the subsequent
complicated moves; with this exception, however, Napoleon's troops
were well in hand and had the advantage of the central position, while
the allies were, as yet, spread out on an extended arc.
But Napoleon once more made the mistake of underrating both the
numbers and the abilities of his foes. By great exertions they now had
close on half a million of men under arms, near the banks of the Oder
and the Elbe, or advancing from Poland and Hungary. True, many of
these were reserves or raw recruits, and Colonel Cathcart doubted
whether the Austrian reserves were then in existence.[344] But the
best authorities place the total at 496,000 men and 1,443 cannon.
Moreover, as was agreed on at Trachenberg, 77,000 Russians and 49,000
Prussians now marched from Glatz and Schweidnitz into Bohemia, and
speedily came into touch with the 110,000 Austrians now ranged behind
the River Eger. The formation of this allied Grand Army was a masterly
step. Napoleon did not hear of it before August 16th, and it was not
until a week later that he realized how vast were the forces that
would threaten his rear. For the present his plan was to hold the
Bohemian passes south of Bautzen and Pirna, so as to hinder any
invasion of Saxony, while he threw himself in great force on the Army
of Silesia, now 95,000 strong, though he believed it to number only
50,000.[345] While he was crushing Blücher, his lieutenants, Oudinot,
Reynier, and Bertrand, were charged to drive Bernadotte's scattered
corps from Berlin; whereupon Davoust was to cut him off from the sea
and relieve the French garrisons at Stettin and Küstrin. Thus Napoleon
proposed to act on the offensive in the open country towards Berlin
and in Silesia, remaining at first on the defensive at Dresden and in
the Lusatian mountains. This was against the advice of Marmont, who
urged him to strike first at Prague, and not to intrust his
lieutenants with great undertakings far away from Dresden. The advice
proved to be sound; but it seems certain that Napoleon intended to
open the campaign by a mighty blow dealt at Blücher, and then to lead
a great force through the Lusatian defiles into Bohemia and drive the
allies before him towards Vienna.
But what did he presume that the allied forces in Bohemia would be
doing while he overwhelmed Blücher in Silesia? Would not Dresden and
his communications with France be left open to their blows? He decided
to run this risk. He had 100,000 men among the Lusatian hills between
Bautzen and Zittau. St. Cyr's corps was strongly posted at Pirna and
the small fortress of Königstein, while his light troops watched the
passes north of Teplitz and Karlsbad. If the allies sought to invade
Saxony, they would, so Napoleon thought, try to force the Zittau road,
which presented few natural difficulties. If they threatened Dresden
by the passages further west, Vandamme would march from near Zittau to
reinforce St. Cyr, or, if need be, the Emperor himself would hurry
back from Silesia with his Guards. If the enemy invaded Bavaria,
Napoleon wished them _bon voyage_: they would soon come back faster
than they went; for, in that case, he would pour his columns down from
Zittau towards Prague and Vienna. The thought that he might for a time
be cut off from France troubled him not: "400,000 men," he said,
"resting on a system of strongholds, on a river like the Elbe, are not
to be turned." In truth, he thought little about the Bohemian army. If
40,000 Russians had entered Bohemia, they would not reach Prague till
the 25th; so he wrote to St. Cyr On the 17th, the day when hostilities
could first begin; and he evidently believed that Dresden would be
safe till September. Its defence seemed assured by the skill of that
master of defensive warfare, St. Cyr, by the barrier of the Erz
Mountains, and still more by Austrian slowness.
Of this characteristic of theirs he cherished great hopes. Their
finances were in dire disorder; and Fouché, who had just returned from
a tour in the Hapsburg States, reported that the best way of striking
at that Power would be "to affect its paper currency, on which all its
armaments depend."[346] And truly if the transport of a great army
over a mountain range had depended solely on the almost bankrupt
exchequer at Vienna, Dresden would have been safe until Michaelmas;
but, beside the material aid brought by the Russians and Prussians
into Bohemia, England also gave her financial support. In pursuance of
the secret article agreed on at Reichenbach, Cathcart now advanced
£250,000 at once; and the knowledge that our financial support was
given to the federative paper notes issued by the allies enabled the
Court of Vienna privately to raise loans and to wage war with a vigour
wholly unexpected by Napoleon.[347]
Certainly the allied Grand Army suffered from no lack of advisers. The
Czar, the Emperor Francis, and the King of Prussia were there; as a
compliment to Austria, the command was intrusted to Field-Marshal
Schwarzenberg, a man of diplomatic ability rather than of military
genius. By his side were the Russians, Wittgenstein, Barclay, and
Toll, the Prussian Knesebeck, the Swiss Jomini, and, above all,
Moreau.
The last-named, as we have seen, came over on the inducement of
Bernadotte, and was received with great honour by the allied
sovereigns. Jomini also was welcomed for his knowledge of the art of
war. This great writer had long served as a French general; but the
ill-treatment that he had lately suffered at Berthier's hands led him,
on August 14th, to quit the French service and pass over to the
allies. His account of his desertion, however, makes it clear that he
had not penetrated Napoleon's designs, for the best of all reasons,
because the Emperor kept them to himself to the very last moment.[348]
The second part of the campaign opens with the curious sight of
immense forces, commanded by experienced leaders, acting in complete
ignorance of the moves of the enemy only some fifty miles away.
Leaving Bautzen on August 17th, Napoleon proceeded eastwards to
Görlitz, turned off thence to Zittau, and hearing a false rumour that
the Russo-Prussian force in Bohemia was only 40,000 strong, returned
to Görlitz with the aim of crushing Blücher. Disputes about the
armistice had given that enterprising leader the excuse for entering
the neutral zone before its expiration; and he had had sharp affairs
with Macdonald and Ney near Löwenberg on the River Bober. Napoleon
hurried up with his Guards, eager to catch Blücher;[349] the French
were now 140,000 strong, while the allies had barely 95,000 at hand.
But the Prussian veteran, usually as daring as a lion, was now wily as
a fox. Under cover of stiff outpost affairs, he skilfully withdrew to
the south-east, hoping to lure the French into the depths of Silesia
and so give time to Schwarzenberg to seize Dresden.
[Illustration: CAMPAIGN OF 1813]
But Napoleon was not to be drawn further afield. Seeing that his foes
could not be forced to a pitched battle, he intrusted the command to
Macdonald, and rapidly withdrew with Ney and his Guard towards
Görlitz; for he now saw the possible danger to Dresden if
Schwarzenberg struck home. If, however, that leader remained on the
defensive, the Emperor determined to fall back on what had all along
been his second plan, and make a rush through the Lusatian defiles on
Prague.[350] But a despatch from St. Cyr, which reached him at Görlitz
late at night on the 23rd, showed that Dresden was in serious danger
from the gathering masses of the allies. This news consigned his
second plan to the limbo of vain hopes. Yet, as will appear a little
later, his determination to defend by taking the offensive soon took
form in yet a third design for the destruction of the allies.
It is a proof of the quenchless pugnacity of his mind that he framed
this plan during the fatigues of the long forced march back towards
Dresden, amidst pouring rain and the discouragement of knowing that
his raid into Silesia had ended merely in the fruitless wearying of
his choicest troops. Accompanied by the Old Guard, the Young Guard, a
division of infantry, and Latour-Maubourg's cavalry, he arrived at
Stolpen, south-east of Dresden, before dawn of the 25th. Most of the
battalions had traversed forty miles in little more than forty-eight
hours, and that, too, after a partial engagement at Löwenberg, and
despite lack of regular rations. Leaving him for a time, we turn to
glance at the fortunes of the war in Brandenburg and Silesia.
Napoleon had bidden Oudinot, with his own corps and those of Reynier
and Bertrand, in all about 70,000 men, to fight his way to Berlin,
disperse the Landwehr and the "mad rabble" there, and, if the city
resisted, set it in flames by the fire of fifty howitzers. That
Marshal found that a tough resistance awaited him, although the allied
commander-in-chief, Bernadotte, moved with the utmost caution, as if
he were bent on justifying Napoleon's recent sneer that he would "only
make a show" (_piaffer_). It is true that the position of the Swedish
Prince, with Davoust threatening his rear, was far from safe; but he
earned the dislike of the Prussians by playing the _grand
seigneur_.[351] Meanwhile most of the defence was carried out by the
Prussians, who flooded the flat marshy land, thus delaying Oudinot's
advance and compelling him to divide his corps. Nevertheless, it
seemed that Bernadotte was about to evacuate Berlin.
At this there was general indignation, which found vent in the retort
of the Prussian General, von Bülow: "Our bones shall bleach in front
of Berlin, not behind it." Seeing an opportune moment while Oudinot's
other corps were as yet far off, Bülow sharply attacked Reynier's
corps of Saxons at Grossbeeren, and gained a brilliant success, taking
1,700 prisoners with 26 guns, and thus compelling Oudinot's scattered
array to fall back in confusion on Wittenberg (August 23rd).[352]
Thither the Crown Prince cautiously followed him. Four days later, a
Prussian column of Landwehr fought a desperate fight at Hagelberg with
Girard's conscripts, finally rushing on them with wolf-like fury,
stabbing and clubbing them, till the foss and the lanes of the town
were piled high with dead and wounded. Scarce 1,700 out of Girard's
9,000 made good their flight to Magdeburg. The failures at Grossbeeren
and Hagelberg reacted unfavourably on Davoust. That leader, advancing
into Mecklenburg, had skirmished with Walmoden's corps of Hanoverians,
British, and Hanseatics; but, hearing of the failure of the other
attempts on Berlin, he fell back and confined himself mainly to a
defensive which had never entered into the Emperor's designs on that
side, or indeed on any side.
Even when Napoleon left Macdonald facing Blücher in Silesia, his
orders were, not merely to keep the allies in check: if possible
Macdonald was to attack him and drive him beyond the town of
Jauer.[353] This was what the French Marshal attempted to do on the
26th of August. The conditions seemed favourable to a surprise.
Blücher's army was stationed amidst hilly country deeply furrowed by
the valleys of the Katzbach and the "raging Neisse."[354] Less than
half of the allied army of 95,000 men was composed of Prussians: the
Russians naturally obeyed his orders with some reluctance, and even
his own countryman, Yorck, grudgingly followed the behests of the
"hussar general."
Macdonald also hoped to catch the allies while they were sundered by
the deep valley of the Neisse. The Prussians with the Russian corps
led by Sacken were to the east of the Neisse near the village of
Eichholz, the central point of the plateau north of Jauer, which was
the objective of the French right wing; while Langeron's Russian corps
was at Hennersdorf, some three miles away and on the west of that
torrent. On his side, Blücher was planning an attack on Macdonald,
when he heard that the French had crossed the Neisse near its
confluence with the Katzbach, and were struggling up the streaming
gullies that led to Eichholz.
Driving rain-storms hid the movements on both sides, and as Souham,
who led the French right, had neglected to throw out flanking scouts,
the Prussian staff-officer, Muffling, was able to ride within a short
distance of the enemy's columns and report to his chief that they
could be assailed before their masses were fully deployed on the
plateau. While Souham's force was still toiling up, Sacken's artillery
began to ply it with shot, and had Yorck charged quickly with his
corps of Prussians, the day might have been won forthwith. But that
opinionated general insisted on leisurely deploying his men. Souham
was therefore able to gain a foothold on the plateau: Sebastiani's men
dragged up twenty-four light cannon: and at times the devoted bravery
of the French endangered the defence. But the defects in their
position slowly but surely told against them, and the vigour of their
attack spent itself. Their cavalry was exhausted by the mud: their
muskets were rendered wellnigh useless by the ceaseless rain; and when
Blücher late in the afternoon headed a dashing charge of Prussian and
Russian horsemen, the wearied conscripts gave way, fled pell-mell down
the slopes, and made for the fords of the Neisse and the Katzbach,
where many were engulfed by the swollen waters. Meanwhile the Russians
on the allied left barely kept off Lauriston's onsets, and on that
side the day ended in a drawn fight. Macdonald, however, seeing
Lauriston's rear threatened by the advance of the Prussians over the
Katzbach, retreated during the night with all his forces. On the next
few days, the allies, pressing on his wearied and demoralized troops,
completed their discomfiture, so that Blücher, on the 1st of
September, was able thus to sum up the results of the battle and the
pursuit--two eagles, 103 cannon, 18,000 men, and a vast quantity of
ammunition and stores captured, and Silesia entirely freed from the
foe.[355]
We now return to the events that centred at Dresden. When, on August
21st and 22nd, the allies wound their way through the passes of the
Erz, they were wholly ignorant of Napoleon's whereabouts. The
generals, Jomini and Toll, who were acquainted with the plan of
operations agree in stating that the aim of the allies was to seize
Leipzig. The latter asserts that they believed Napoleon to be there,
while the Swiss strategist saw in this movement merely a means of
effecting a junction with Bernadotte's army, so as to cut off Napoleon
from the Rhine.[356] Unaware that the rich prize of Dresden was left
almost within their grasp by Napoleon's eastward move, the allies
plodded on towards Freiberg and Chemnitz, when, on the 23rd, the
capture of one of St. Cyr's despatches flashed the truth upon them.
At once they turned eastwards towards Dresden; but so slow was their
progress over the wretched cross-roads now cut up by the rains, that
not till the early morning of the 25th did the heads of their columns
appear on the heights south-west of the Saxon capital. Yet, even so,
the omens were all in their favour. On their right, Wittgenstein had
already carried the French lines at Pirna, and was now driving in St.
Cyr's outposts towards Dresden. The daring spirits at Schwarzenberg's
headquarters therefore begged him to push on the advantage already
gained, while Napoleon was still far away. Everything, they asserted,
proved that the French were surprised; Dresden could not long hold out
against an attack by superior numbers: its position in a river valley
dominated by the southern and western slopes, which the allies
strongly held, was fatal to a prolonged defence: the thirteen redoubts
hastily thrown up by the French could not long keep an army at bay,
and of these only five were on the left side of the Elbe on which the
allies were now encamped.
Against these manly counsels the voice of prudence pleaded for delay.
It was not known how strong were St. Cyr's forces in Dresden and in
the intrenched camp south of the city. Would it not therefore be
better to await the development of events? Such was the advice of Toll
and Moreau, the latter warning the Czar, with an earnestness which we
may deem fraught with destiny for himself--"Sire, if we attack, we
shall lose 20,000 men and break our nose."[357] The multitude of
counsellors did not tend to safety. Distracted by the strife of
tongues, Schwarzenberg finally took refuge in that last resort of weak
minds, a tame compromise. He decided to wait until further corps
reached the front, and at four o'clock of the following afternoon _to
push forward five columns for a general reconnaissance in force_. As
Jomini has pointed out, this plan rested on sheer confusion of
thought. If the commander meant merely to find out the strength of the
defenders, that could be ascertained at once by sending forward light
troops, screened by skirmishers, at the important points. If he wished
to attack in force, his movement was timed too late in the day safely
to effect a lodgment in a large city held by a resolute foe. Moreover,
the postponement of the attack for thirty hours gave time for the
French Emperor to appear on the scene with his Guards.
As we have seen, Napoleon reached Stolpen, a town distant some sixteen
miles from Dresden, very early on the morning of the 25th. His plans
present a telling contrast to the slow and clumsy arrangements of the
allies. He proposed to hurl his Guards at their rear and cut them off
from Bohemia. Crossing the Elbe at Königstein, he would recover the
camp of Pirna, hold the plateau further west and intercept
Schwarzenberg's retreat.[358] For the success of this plan he needed a
day's rest for his wearied Guards and the knowledge that Dresden could
hold out for a short time. His veterans could perhaps dispense with
rest; where their Emperor went they would follow; but Dresden was the
unknown quantity. Shortly after midnight of the 25th and 26th, he
heard from St. Cyr that Dresden would soon be attacked in such force
that a successful defence was doubtful.
At once he changed his plan and at 1 a.m. sent off four despatches
ordering his Guards and all available troops to succour St. Cyr.
Vandamme's corps alone was now charged with the task of creeping round
the enemy's rear, while the Guards long before dawn resumed their
march through the rain and mud. The Emperor followed and passed them
at a gallop, reaching the capital at 9 a.m. with Latour-Maubourg's
cuirassiers; and, early in the afternoon, the bearskins of the Guards
were seen on the heights east of Dresden, while the dark masses of the
allies were gathering on the south and west for their reconnaissance
in force.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF DRESDEN]
Lowering clouds and pitiless rain robbed the scene of all brilliance,
but wreathed it with a certain sombre majesty. On the one side was the
fair city, the centre of German art and culture, hastily girdled with
redoubts and intrenchments manned now by some 120,000 defenders. Fears
and murmurings had vanished as soon as the Emperor appeared; and
though in many homes men still longed for the triumph of the allies,
yet loyalty to their King and awe of Napoleon held the great mass of
the citizens true to his alliance. As for the French soldiery, their
enthusiasm was unbounded. As regiment after regiment tramped in
wearily from the east over the Elbe bridge and the men saw that
well-known figure in the gray overcoat, fatigues and discomforts were
forgotten; thunderous shouts of "Vive l'Empereur" rent the air and
rolled along the stream, carrying inspiration to the defenders, doubt
and dismay to the hostile lines. Yet these too were being
strengthened, until they finally mustered close on 200,000 men, who
crowned the slopes south of Dresden with a war-cloud that promised to
sweep away its hasty defences--had not Napoleon been there.
The news of his arrival shook the nerves of the Russian Emperor, and
it was reserved for the usually diffident King of Prussia to combat
all notion of retreat. Schwarzenberg's reconnaissance in force
therefore took place punctually at four o'clock, when the French,
after a brief rest, were well prepared to meet them. The Prussians had
already seized the "Great Garden" which lines the Pirna road; and from
this point of vantage they now sought to drive St. Cyr from the works
thrown up on its flank and rear. But their masses were torn by a
deadly fire and finally fell back shattered. The Russians, on their
right, fared no better. At the allied centre and left, the attack at
one time promised success. Under cover of a heavy cannonade from their
slopes, the Austrians carried two redoubts: but, with a desperate
charge, the Old Guard drove in through the gorges of these works and
bayoneted the victors of an hour. As night fell, the assailants drew
off baffled, after sustaining serious losses.
Nevertheless, the miseries of the night, the heavy rains of the
dawning day and the knowledge of the strength of the enemy's position
in front and of Vandamme's movement in their rear, failed to daunt
their spirits. If they were determined, Napoleon was radiant with
hope. His force, though smaller, held the inner line and spread over
some three miles; while the concave front of the allies extended over
double that space, and their left wing was separated from the centre
by the stream and defile of Plauen. From his inner position he could
therefore readily throw an overpowering mass on any part of their
attenuated array. He prepared to do so against their wings. At those
points everything promised success to his methods of attack.
Never, perhaps, in all modern warfare has the musket been so useless
as amidst the drenching rains which beat upon the fighters at the
Katzbach and before Dresden. So defective was its firing arrangement
then that after a heavy storm only a feeble sputter came from whole
battalions of foot: and on those two eventful days the honours lay
with the artillery and _l'arme blanche_. As for the infantrymen, they
could effect little except in some wild snatches of bayonet work at
close quarters. This explains the course of events both at the
Katzbach on the 26th, and at Dresden on the following day. The allied
centre was too strongly posted on the slopes south of Dresden to be
assailed with much hope of success. But, against the Russian vanguard
on the allied right, Napoleon launched Mortier's corps and Nansouty's
cavalry with complete success, until Wittgenstein's masses on the
heights stayed the French onset. Along the centre, some thousand
cannon thundered against one another, but with no very noteworthy
result, save that Moreau had his legs carried away by a shot from a
field battery that suddenly opened upon the Czar's suite. It was the
first shot that dealt him this fatal wound, but several other balls
fell among the group until Alexander and his staff moved away.
Meanwhile the great blow was struck by Napoleon at the allied left.
There the Austrian wing was sundered from the main force by the
difficult defile of Plauen; and it was crushed by one of the Emperor's
most brilliant combinations. Directing Victor with 20,000 men of all
arms to engage the white-coats in front, he bade Murat, with 10,000
horsemen, steal round near the bank of the Elbe and charge their flank
and rear. The division of Count Metzko bore the brunt of this terrible
onset. Nobly it resisted. Though not one musket in fifty would fire,
the footmen in one place beat off two charges of Latour-Maubourg's
cuirassiers, until he headed his line with lancers, who mangled their
ranks and opened a way for the sword.[359] Then all was slaughter; and
as Murat's squadrons raged along their broken lines, 10,000 footmen,
cut off from the main body, laid down their arms. News of this
disaster on the left and the sound of Vandamme's cannon thundering
among the hills west of Pirna decided the allied sovereigns and
Schwarzenberg to prepare for a timely retreat into Bohemia. Yet so
bold a front did they keep at the centre and right that the waning
light showed the combatants facing each other there on even terms.
During the night, the rumbling of wagons warned Marmont's scouts that
the enemy were retreating;[360] and the Emperor, coming up at break of
day, ordered that Marshal and St. Cyr to press directly on their rear,
while Murat pursued the fugitives along the Freiburg road further to
the west. The outcome of these two days of fighting was most serious
for the allies. They lost 35,000 men in killed, wounded and
prisoners--a natural result of their neglect to seize Fortune's
bounteous favours on the 25th; a result, too, of Napoleon's rapid
movements and unerring sagacity in profiting by the tactical blunders
of his foes.
It was the last of his great victories. And even here the golden fruit
which he hoped to cull crumbled to bitter dust in his grasp. As has
been pointed out, he had charged General Vandamme, one of the sternest
fighters in the French army, to undertake with 38,000 men a task which
he himself had previously hoped to achieve with more than double that
number. This was to seize Pirna and the plateau to the west, which
commands the three roads leading towards Teplitz in Bohemia. The best
of these roads crosses the Erzgebirge by way of Nollendorf and the
gorge leading down to Kulm, the other by the Zinnwald pass, while
between them is a third and yet more difficult track. Vandamme was to
take up a position west or south-west of Pirna so as to cut off the
retreat of the foe.
Accordingly, he set out from Stolpen at dawn of the 26th, and on the
next two days fought his way far round the rear of the allied Grand
Army. A Russian force of 14,000 men, led by the young Prince Eugène of
Würtemberg and Count Ostermann, sought in vain to stop his progress:
though roughly handled on the 28th by the French, the Muscovites
disengaged themselves, fell back ever fighting to the Nollendorf pass,
and took up a strong position behind the village of Kulm. There they
received timely support from the forces of the Czar and Frederick
William, who, after crossing by the Zinnwald pass, heard the firing on
the east and divined the gravity of the crisis. Unless they kept
Vandamme at bay, the Grand Army could with difficulty struggle through
into Bohemia. But now, with the supports hastily sent him, Ostermann
finally beat back Vandamme's utmost efforts. The defenders little knew
what favours Fortune had in store.
A Prussian corps under Kleist was slowly plodding up the middle of the
three defiles, when, at noonday of the 29th, an order came from the
King to hurry over the ridge and turn east to the support of
Ostermann. This was impossible: the defile was choked with wagons and
artillery: but one of Kleist's staff-officers proposed the daring plan
of plunging at once into cross tracks and cutting into Vandamme's
rear. This novel and romantic design was carried out. While, then, the
French general was showering his blows against the allies below Kulm,
the Prussians swarmed down from the heights of Nollendorf on his rear.
Even so, the French struggled stoutly for liberty. Their leader,
scorning death or surrender, flung himself with his braves on the
Russians in front, but was borne down and caught, fighting to the
last. Several squadrons rushed up the steeps against the Prussians and
in part hewed their way through. Four thousand footmen held their own
on a natural stronghold until their bullets failed, and the survivors
surrendered. Many more plunged into the woods and met various fates,
some escaping through to their comrades, others falling before
Kleist's rearguard. Such was the disaster of Kulm. Apart from the
unbending heroism shown by the conquered, it may be called the Caudine
Forks of modern war. A force of close on 40,000 men was nearly
destroyed: it lost all its cannon and survived only in bands of
exhausted stragglers.[361]
Who is to be blamed for this disaster? Obviously, it could not have
occurred had Vandamme kept in touch with the nearest French divisions:
otherwise, these could have closed in on Kleist's rear and captured
him. Napoleon clearly intended to support Vandamme by the corps of St.
Cyr, who, early on the 28th, was charged to co-operate with that
general, while Mortier covered Pirna. But on that same morning the
Emperor rode to Pirna, found that St. Cyr, Marmont, and Murat were
sweeping in crowds of prisoners, and directed Berthier to order
Vandamme to "penetrate into Bohemia and overwhelm the Prince of
Würtemberg."[362] Then, without waiting to organize the pursuit, he
forthwith returned to Dresden, either because, as some say, the rains
of the previous days had struck a chill to his system, or as Marmont,
with more reason, asserts, because of his concern at the news of
Macdonald's disaster on the Katzbach. Certain it is that he recalled
his Old Guard to Dresden, busied himself with plans for a march on
Berlin, and at 5.30 next morning directed Berthier to order St. Cyr to
"pursue the foe to Maxen and in all directions that he has taken."
This order led St. Cyr westwards, in pursuit of Barclay's Russians,
who had diverged sharply in that direction in order to escape
Vandamme.
The eastern road to Teplitz was thus left comparatively clear, while
the middle road was thronged with pursuers and pursued.[363] No
directions were given by Napoleon to warn Vandamme of the gap thus
left in his rear: neither was Mortier at Pirna told to press on and
keep in touch with Vandamme now that St. Cyr was some eight miles away
to the west. Doubtless St. Cyr and Mortier ought to have concerted
measures for keeping in touch with Vandamme, and they deserve censure
for their lack of foresight; but it was not usual, even for the
Marshals, to take the initiative when the Emperor was near at hand. To
sum up: the causes of Vandamme's disaster were, firstly, his rapid
rush into Bohemia in quest of the Marshal's baton which was to be his
guerdon of victory: secondly, the divergence of St. Cyr westward in
pursuance of Napoleon's order of the 29th to pursue the enemy towards
Maxen: thirdly, the neglect of St. Cyr and Mortier to concert measures
for the support of Vandamme along the Nollendorf road: but, above all,
the return of Napoleon to Dresden, and his neglect to secure a timely
co-operation of his forces along the eastern line of pursuit.[364]
The disaster at Kulm ruined Napoleon's campaign. While Vandamme was
making his last stand, his master at Dresden was drawing up a long
Note as to the respective advantages of a march on Berlin or on
Prague. He decided on the former course, which would crush the
national movement in Prussia, and bring him into touch with Davoust
and the French garrisons at Küstrin and Stettin. "Then, if Austria
begins her follies again, I shall be at Dresden with a united army."
He looked on Austria as cowed by the blows dealt her south of Dresden,
which would probably bring her to sue for peace, and he hoped that one
more great battle would end the war. The mishaps to Macdonald and
Vandamme dispelled these dreams. Still, with indomitable energy, he
charged Ney to take command of Oudinot's army (a post of which this
unfortunate leader begged to be relieved) and to strike at Berlin. He
ordered Friant with a column of the Old Guard to march to Bautzen and
drive in Macdonald's stragglers with the butt ends of muskets.[365]
Then, hearing how pressing was the danger of this Marshal, he himself
set out secretly with the cavalry of the Guard in hope of crushing
Blücher. But again that leader retreated (September 4th and 5th), and
once more the allied Grand Army thrust its columns through the Erz and
threatened Dresden. Hurrying back in the worst of humours to defend
that city, Napoleon heard bad news from the north. On September 6th
Ney had been badly beaten at Dennewitz. In truth, that brave fighter
was no tactician: his dispositions were worse than those of Oudinot,
and the obstinate bravery of the Prussians, led by Bülow and
Tauenzien, wrested a victory from superior numbers. Night alone saved
Ney's army from complete dissolution: as it was, he lost some 9,000
killed and wounded, 15,000 prisoners along with eighty cannon, and
frankly summed up the situation thus to his master: "I have been
totally beaten, and still do not know whether my army has
reassembled."[366] Ultimately his army assembled and fell back behind
the Elbe at Torgau.
Thus, in a fortnight (August 23rd-September 6th), Napoleon had gained
a great success at Dresden, while, on the circumference of operations,
his lieutenants had lost five battles--Grossbeeren, Hagelberg,
Katzbach, Kulm, and Dennewitz. The allies could therefore contract
that circumference, come into closer touch, and threaten his central
intrenched camps at Pirna and Dresden. Yet still, in pursuance of a
preconcerted plan, they drew back where he advanced in person. Thus,
when he sought to drive back Schwarzenberg's columns into Bohemia,
that leader warily retired to the now impregnable passes; and the
Emperor fell back on Dresden, wearied and perplexed. As he said to
Marmont: "The chess-board is very confused: it is only I who can know
where I am." Yet once more he plunged into the Erzgebirge, engaged in
a fruitless skirmish in the defile above Kulm, and again had to lead
his troops back to Pirna and Dresden. A third move against Blücher led
to the same wearisome result.
The allies, having worn down the foe, planned a daring move. Blücher
persuaded the allied sovereigns to strike from Bohemia at Leipzig,
thus turning the flank of the defensive works that the French had
thrown up south of Dresden, and cutting their communications with
France. He himself would march north-west, join the northern army, and
thereafter meet them at Leipzig. This rendezvous he kept, as later he
staunchly kept troth with Wellington at Waterloo; and we may detect
here, as in 1815, the strategic genius of Gneisenau as the prime
motive force.
Leaving a small force to screen his former positions at Bautzen, the
veteran, with 65,000 men, stealthily set out on his flank march
towards Wittenberg, threw two pontoon bridges over the Elbe at
Wartenburg, about ten miles above that fortress, drove away Bertrand's
battalions who hindered the crossing, and threw up earthworks to
protect the bridges (October 3rd). This done, he began to feel about
for Bernadotte, and came into touch with him south of Dessau. By this
daring march he placed two armies, amounting to 160,000 men, on the
north of Napoleon's lines; and his personal influence checked, even if
it did not wholly stop, the diplomatic loiterings of the Swedish Crown
Prince.[368] Bernadotte's hesitations were finally overcome by the
news that Blücher was marching south towards Leipzig. Finally he gave
orders to follow him; but we may judge how easy would have been the
task of overthrowing Bernadotte's discordant array if Napoleon could
have carried out his project of September 30th.
As it was, the disaster of Kulm kept the Emperor tethered for some
days within a few leagues of Dresden, while Bülow and Blücher saved
the campaign for the allies in the north, thereby exciting a patriotic
ferment which drove Jerome Bonaparte from Cassel and kept Davoust to
the defensive around Hamburg. There the skilful moves of Walmoden with
a force of Russians, British, Swedes, and North Germans kept in check
the ablest of the French Marshals, and prevented his junction with the
Emperor, for which the latter never ceased to struggle.
Meanwhile the Grand Army of the allies, strengthened by the approach
from Poland of 50,000 Russians of the Army of Reserve, was creeping
through the western passes of the Erz into the plains south of
Leipzig. This move was not unexpected by Napoleon. The importance of
that city was obvious. Situated in the midst of the fertile Saxon
plain, the centre of a great system ofroads, its position and its
wealth alike marked it out as the place likely to be seized by a
daring foe who should seek to cut Napoleon off from France.
As fortune turned against him, he became ever more nervous about
Leipzig. Yet, for the present, the northward march of Blücher rivetted
his attention. It puzzled him. Even as late as October 2nd he had not
fathomed Blücher's real aim[369]. But four days later he heard that
the Prussian leader had crossed the Elbe. At once he hurried
north-west with the Guard to crush him, and to resume the favourite
project of threatening Berlin and join hands with Davoust. Charging
St-Cyr with the defence of Dresden, and Murat with the defence of
Leipzig, he took his stand at Düben, a small town on the Mulde, nearly
midway between Leipzig and Wittenberg. Thence he reinforced Ney's
army, and ordered that Marshal northwards to fall on the rear of
Bernadotte and Blücher; while he himself waited in a moated castle at
Düben to learn the issue of events.
The saxon Colonel, von Odeleben, has left us a vivid picture of the
great man's restlessness during those four days. Surrounded by maps
and despatches, and waited on by watchful geographer and apprehensive
secretary, he spent much of the time scrawling large letters on a
sheet of paper, uneasily listening for the tramp of a courier. In
truth, few days of his life were more critical that those spent amidst
the rains, swamps, and fogs of Düben. Could he have caught Bernadotte
and Blücher far apart, he might have overwhelmed them singly, and then
have carried the war into the heart of Prussia. But he knows that
Dresden and Leipzig are far from safe. The news from that side begins
to alarm him: and though, on the north, Ney, Bertrand, and Reynier cut
up the rearguard of the allies, he learns with some disquiet that
Blücher is withdrawing westwards behind the River Saale, a move which
betokens a wish to come into touch with Schwarzenberg near Leipzig.
Yet this disconcerting thought spurs him on to one of his most daring
designs. "As a means of upsetting all their plans, I will march to the
Elbe. There I have the advantage, since I have Hamburg, Magdeburg,
Wittenberg, Torgau, and Dresden."[370] What faith he had in the
defensive capacities of a great river line dotted with fortresses! His
lieutenants did not share it. Caulaincourt tells us that his plan of
dashing at Berlin roused general consternation at headquarters, and
that the staff came in a body to beg him to give it up, and march back
to protect Leipzig. Reluctantly he abandons it, and then only to
change it for one equally venturesome. He will crush Bernadotte and
Blücher, or throw them beyond the Elbe, and then, himself crossing the
Elbe, ascend its right bank, recross it at Torgau, and strike at
Schwarzenberg's rear near Leipzig.
The plan promised well, provided that his men were walking machines,
and that Schwarzenberg did nothing in the interval. But gradually the
truth dawns on him that, while he sits weaving plans and dictating
despatches--he sent off six in the small hours of October
12th--Blücher and Schwarzenberg are drawing near to Leipzig. On that
day he prepared to fall back on that city, a resolve strengthened on
the morrow by the capture of one of the enemy's envoys, who reported
that they had great hopes of detaching Bavaria from the French cause.
The news was correct. Five days earlier, the King of Bavaria had come
to terms with Austria, offering to place 36,000 troops at her
disposal, while she, in return, guaranteed his complete sovereignty
and a full territorial indemnity for any districts that he might be
called on to restore to the Hapsburgs.[371] Napoleon knew not as yet
the full import of the news, and it is quite incorrect to allege, as
some heedless admirers have done, that this was the only thing that
stayed his conquering march northwards.[372] His retreat to Leipzig
was arranged before he heard the first rumour as to Bavaria's
defection. But the tidings saddened his men on their miry march
southwards; and, strange to say, the Emperor published it to all his
troops at Leipzig on the 15th, giving it as the cause why they were
about to fall back on the Rhine.
There was much to depress the Emperor when, on the 14th, he drew near
to Leipzig. With him came the King and Queen of Saxony, who during the
last days had resignedly moved along in the tail of this comet, which
had blasted their once smiling realm. Outside the city they parted,
the royal pair seeking shelter under its roofs, while the Emperor
pressed on to Murat's headquarters near Wachau. There, too the news
was doubtful. The King of Naples had not, on that day, shown his old
prowess. Though he disposed of larger masses of horsemen than those
which the allies sent out to reconnoitre, he chose his ground of
attack badly, and led his brigades in so loose an array that, after
long swayings to and fro, the fight closed with advantage to the
allies.[373] It was not without reason that Napoleon on that night
received his Marshals rather coolly at his modest quarters in the
village of Reudnitz. Leaning against the stove, he ran over several
names of those who were now slack in their duty; and when Augereau was
announced, he remarked that he was not the Augereau of Castiglione.
"Ah! give me back the old soldiers of Italy, and I will show you that
I am," retorted the testy veteran.
As a matter of fact, Napoleon was not the old Napoleon, not even the
Napoleon of Dresden. There he had overwhelmed the foe by a rapid
concentration. Now nothing decisive was done on the 15th, and time was
thereby given the allies to mature their plans. Early on that day
Blücher heard that on the morrow Schwarzenberg would attack Leipzig
from the south-east, but would send a corps westwards to threaten it
on the side of Lindenau. The Prussian leader therefore hurried on from
the banks of the Saale, and at night the glare of his watch-fires
warned Marmont that Leipzig would be assailed also from the
north-west. Yet, despite the warnings which Napoleon received from his
Marshal, he refused to believe that the north side was seriously
threatened; and, as late as the dawn of the 16th, he bade his troops
there to be ready to march through Leipzig and throw themselves on the
masses of Schwarzenberg.[374] Had Napoleon given those orders on the
15th, all might have gone well; for all his available forces, except
Ney's and Reynier's corps, were near at hand, making a total of nearly
150,000 men, while Schwarzenberg had as yet not many more. But those
orders on the 16th were not only belated: they contributed to the
defeat on the north side.
The Emperor's thoughts were concentrated on the south. There his lines
stretched in convex front along undulating ground near Wachau and
Liebertwolkwitz, about a league to the south and south-east of the
town. His right was protected by the marshy ground of the small river
Pleisse; his centre stretched across the roads leading towards
Dresden, while his left rested on a small stream, the Parthe, which
curves round towards the north-west and forms a natural defence to the
town on the north. Yet to cautious minds his position seemed unsafe;
he had in his rear a town whose old walls were of no military value, a
town on which several roads converged from the north, east, and south,
but from which, in case of defeat, he could retire westward only by
one road, that leading over the now flooded streams of the Pleisse and
the Elster. But the great captain himself thought only of victory. He
had charged Macdonald and Ney to march from Taucha to his support:
Marmont was to do the same; and, with these concentrated forces acting
against the far more extended array of Schwarzenberg, he counted on
overthrowing him on the morrow, and then crushing the disunited forces
of Blücher and Bernadotte.[375]
[Illustration: BATTLE OF LEIPZIG]
The Emperor and Murat were riding along the ridge near
Liebertwolkwitz, when, at nine o'clock, three shots fired in quick
succession from the allies on the opposite heights, opened the series
of battles fitly termed the Battle of the Nations. For six hours a
furious cannonade shook the earth, and the conflict surged to and fro
with little decisive result; but when Macdonald's corps struck in from
the north-east, the allies began to give ground. Thereupon Napoleon
launched two cavalry corps, those of Latour-Maubourg and Pajol,
against the allied centre.
Then was seen one of the most superb sights of war. Rising quickly
from behind the ridge, 12,000 horsemen rode in two vast masses against
a weak point in the opposing lines. They were led by the King of
Naples with all his wonted dash. Panting up the muddy slopes opposite,
they sabred the gunners, enveloped the Russian squares, and the three
allied sovereigns themselves had to beat a hasty retreat to avoid
capture. But the horses were soon spent by the furious pace at which
Murat careered along; and a timely charge by Pahlen's Cossacks and the
Silesian cuirassiers, brought up from the allied reserves beyond the
Pleisse, drove the French brigades back in great disorder, with the
loss of their able corps leaders. The allies by a final effort
regained all the lost ground, and the day here ended in a drawn fight,
with the loss of about 20,000 men to either side.
Meanwhile, on the west side of Leipzig, Bertrand had beaten off the
attack of Giulay's Austrian corps on the village of Lindenau. But,
further north, Marmont sustained a serious reverse. In obedience to
Napoleon's order, he was falling back towards Leipzig, when he was
sharply attacked by Yorck's corps at Möckern. Between that village and
Eutritzsch further east the French Marshal offered a most obstinate
resistance. Blücher, hoping to capture his whole corps, begged Sir
Charles Stewart to ride back to Bernadotte and request his succour.
The British envoy found the Swedish Prince at Halle and conjured him
to make every exertion not to be the only leader left out of the
battle.[376] It was in vain: his army was too far away; and only after
the village of Möckern had been repeatedly taken and re-taken, was
Marmont finally driven out by Yorck's Prussians.[377]
In truth, Marmont lacked the support of Ney's corps, which Berthier
had led him to expect if he were attacked in force. But the orders
were vague or contradictory. Ney had been charged to follow Macdonald
and impart irresistible momentum to the onset which was to have
crushed Schwarzenberg's right wing. He therefore only detached one
weak division to cover Marmont's right flank, and with the other
divisions marched away south, when an urgent message from Möckern
recalled him to that side of Leipzig, with the result that his 15,000
men spent the whole day in useless marches and counter-marches.[378]
The mishap was most serious. Had he strengthened Macdonald's
outflanking move, the right wing of the allied Grand Army might have
been shattered. Had he reinforced Marmont effectively, the position on
the north might have been held. As it was, the French fell back from
Möckern in confusion, losing 53 cannon; but they had inflicted on
Yorck's corps a loss of 8,000 men out of 21,000. Relatively to the
forces engaged, Albuera and Möckern are the bloodiest battles of the
Napoleonic wars.
On the whole, Napoleon had dealt the allies heavier losses than he had
sustained. But they could replace them. On the morrow Bennigsen was
near at hand on the east with 41,000 Russians of the Army of Reserve;
Colloredo's Austrian corps had also come up; and, in the north,
Bernadotte's Army of the North, 60,000 strong, was known to be
marching from Halle to reinforce Blücher. Napoleon, however, could
only count on Reynier's corps of 15,000 men, mostly Saxons, who
marched in from Düben. St. Cyr's corps of 27,000 men was too far away,
at Dresden; and Napoleon must have bitterly rued his rashness in
leaving that Marshal isolated on the south-east, while Davoust was
also cut off at Hamburg. He now had scarcely 150,000 effectives left
after the slaughter of the 16th; and of these, the German divisions
were murmuring at the endless marches and privations. Everything
helped to depress men's minds. On that Sabbath morning all was sombre
desolation around Leipzig, while within that city naught was heard but
the groans of the wounded and the lamentations of the citizens. Still
Napoleon's spirit was unquenched. Amidst the steady rain he paced
restlessly with Murat along the dykes of the Pleisse. The King assured
him that the enemy had suffered enormous losses. Then, the dreary walk
ended, the Emperor shut himself in his tent. His resolve was taken. He
would try fortune once more.[379]
Among the prisoners was the Austrian General Merveldt, over whom
Napoleon had gained his first diplomatic triumph, that at Leoben. He
it was, too, who had brought the first offers of an armistice after
Austerlitz. These recollections touched the superstitious chords in
the great Corsican's being; for in times of stress the strongest
nature harks back to early instincts. This harbinger of good fortune
the Emperor now summoned and talked long and earnestly with him.[380]
First, he complimented him on his efforts of the previous day to turn
the French left at Dölitz; next, he offered to free him on parole in
order to return to the allied headquarters with proposals for an
armistice. Then, after giving out that he had more than 200,000 men
round Leipzig, he turned to the European situation. Why had Austria
deserted him? At Prague she might have dictated terms to Europe. But
the English did not want peace. To this Merveldt answered that they
needed it sorely, but it must be not a truce, but a peace founded on
the equilibrium of Europe.--"Well," replied Napoleon, "let them give
me back my isles and I will give them back Hanover; I will also
re-establish the Hanse Towns and the annexed departments [of North
Germany].... But how treat with England, who wishes to bind me not to
build more than thirty ships of the line in my ports?"[381]
As for the Confederation of the Rhine, those States might secede that
chose to do so: but never would he cease to protect those that wanted
his protection. As to giving Holland its independence, he saw a great
difficulty: that land would then fall under the control of England.
Italy ought to be under one sovereign; that would suit the European
system. As he had abandoned Spain, that question was thereby decided.
Why then should not peace be the result of an armistice?--The allied
sovereigns thought differently, and at once waved aside the proposal.
No answer was sent.
In fact, they had Napoleon in their power, as he surmised. Late on
that Sunday, he withdrew his drenched and half-starved troops nearer
to Leipzig; for Blücher had gained ground on the north and threatened
the French line of retreat. Why the Emperor did not retreat during the
night must remain a mystery. All the peoples of Europe were now
closing in on him. On the north were Prussians, Russians, Swedes, and
a few British troops. To the south-east were the dense masses of the
allied Grand Army drawn from all the lands between the Alps and the
Urals; and among Bennigsen's array on the east of Leipzig were to be
seen the Bashkirs of Siberia, whose bows and arrows gained them from
the French soldiery the sobriquet of _les Amours_.
To this ring of 300,000 fighters Napoleon could oppose scarcely half
as many. Yet the French fought on, if not for victory, yet for honour;
and, under the lead of Prince Poniatowski, whose valour on the 16th
had gained him the coveted rank of a Marshal of France, the Poles once
more clutched desperately at the wraith of their national
independence. Napoleon took his stand with his staff on a hill behind
Probstheyde near a half-ruined windmill, fit emblem of his fortunes;
while, further south, the three allied monarchs watched from a higher
eminence the vast horse-shoe of smoke slowly draw in towards the city.
In truth, this immense conflict baffles all description. On the
north-east, the Crown Prince of Sweden gradually drove his columns
across the Parthe, while Blücher hammered at the suburbs.
Near the village of Paunsdorf, the allies found a weak place in the
defence, where Reynier's Saxons showed signs of disaffection. Some few
went over to the Russians in the forenoon, and about 3 p.m. others
marched over with loud hurrahs. They did not exceed 3,000 men, with 19
cannon, but these pieces were at once effectively used against the
French. Napoleon hurried towards the spot with part of his Guards, who
restored the fight on that side. But it was only for a time. The
defence was everywhere overmatched.
Even the inspiration of his presence and the desperate efforts of
Murat, Poniatowski, Victor, Macdonald, and thousands of nameless
heroes, barely held off the masses of the allied Grand Army. On the
north and north-east, Marmont and Ney were equally overborne.[382]
Worst of all, the supply of cannon balls was running low. With
pardonable exaggeration the Emperor afterwards wrote to Clarke: "If I
had then had 30,000 rounds, I should to-day be the master of the
world."
At nightfall, the chief returned weary and depressed to the windmill,
and instructed Berthier to order the retreat. Then, beside a
watch-fire, he sank down on a bench into a deep slumber, while his
generals looked on in mournful silence. All around them there surged
in the darkness the last cries of battle, the groans of the wounded,
and the dull rumble of a retreating host. After a quarter of an hour
he awoke with a start and threw an astonished look on his staff; then,
recollecting himself, he bade an officer repair to the King of Saxony
and tell him the state of affairs.
Early next morning, he withdrew into Leipzig, and, after paying a
brief visit to the King, rode away towards the western gate. It was
none too soon. The conflux of his still mighty forces streaming in by
three high roads, produced in all the streets of the town a crush
which thickened every hour. The Prussians and Swedes were breaking
into the northern suburbs, while the white-coats drove in the
defenders on the south. Slowly and painfully the throng of fugitives
struggled through the town towards the western gate. On that side the
confusion became ever worse, as the shots of the allies began to whiz
across the arches and causeway that led over the Pleisse and the
Elster, while the hurrahs of the Russians drew near on the north.
Ammunition wagons, gendarmes, women, grenadiers and artillery, cavalry
and cattle, the wounded, the dying, Marshals and sutlers, all were
wedged into an indistinguishable throng that fought for a foothold on
that narrow road of safety; and high above the din came the clash of
merry bells from the liberated suburbs, bells that three days before
had rung forced peals of triumph at Napoleon's orders, but now bade
farewell for ever to French domination. To increase the rout, a
temporary bridge thrown over the Elster broke down under the crush;
and the rush for the roadway became more furious. In despair of
reaching it, hundreds threw themselves into the flooded stream, but
few reached the further shore: among the drowned was that flower of
Polish chivalry, Prince Poniatowski.
But this mishap was soon to be outdone. A corporal of engineers, in
the absence of his chief, had received orders to blow up the bridge
outside the western gate, as soon as the pursuers were at hand; but,
alarmed by the volleys of Sacken's Russians, whom Blücher had sent to
work round by the river courses north-west of the town, the bewildered
subaltern fired the mine while the rearguard and a great crowd of
stragglers were still on the eastern side.[383] This was the climax of
this day of disaster, which left in the hands of the allies as many as
thirty generals, including Lauriston and Reynier, and 33,000 of the
rank and file, along with 260 cannon and 870 ammunition wagons. From
the village of Lindenau Napoleon gazed back at times over the awesome
scene, but in general he busied himself with reducing to order the
masses that had struggled across. The Old Guard survived, staunch as
ever, and had saved its 120 cannon, but the Young Guard was reduced to
a mere wreck. Amidst all the horrors of that day, the Emperor
maintained a stolid composure, but observers saw that he was bathed in
sweat. Towards evening, he turned and rode away westwards; and from
the weary famished files, many a fierce glance and muttered curse shot
forth as he passed by. Men remembered that it was exactly a year since
the Grand Army broke up from Moscow.
Yet, despite the ravages of typhus, the falling away of the German
States and the assaults of the allied horse, the retreating host
struggled stoutly on towards the Rhine. At Hainau it swept aside an
army of Bavarians and Austrians that sought to bar the road to France;
and, early in November, 40,000 armed men, with a larger number of
unarmed stragglers, filed across the bridge at Mainz. Napoleon had not
only lost Germany; he left behind in its fortresses as many as 190,000
troops, of whom nearly all were French; and of the 1,300 cannon with
which he began the second part of the campaign, scarce 200 were now at
hand for the defence of his Empire.
The causes of this immense disaster are not far to seek. They were
both political and military. In staking all on the possession of the
line of the Elbe, Napoleon was engulfing himself in a hostile land. At
the first signs of his overthrow, the national spirit of Germany was
certain to inflame the Franconians and Westphalians in his rear, and
imperil his communications. In regard to strategy, he committed the
same blunder as that perpetrated by Mack in 1805. He trusted to a
river line that could easily be turned by his foes. As soon as Austria
declared against him, his position on the Elbe was fully as perilous
as Mack's lines of the Iller at Ulm.
And yet, in spite of the obvious danger from the great mountain
bastion of Bohemia that stretched far away in his rear, the Emperor
kept his troops spread out from Königstein to Hamburg, and ventured on
long and wearying marches into Silesia, and north to Düben, which left
his positions in Saxony almost at the mercy of the allied Grand
Army.[384] By emerging from the mighty barrier of the Erzgebirge, that
army compelled him three times to give up his offensive moves and
hastily to fall back into the heart of Saxony.
The plain truth is that he was out-generalled by the allies. The
assertion may seem to savour of profanity. Yet, if words have any
meaning, the phrase is literally correct. His aim was primarily to
maintain himself on the line of the Elbe, but also, though in the
second place, to keep up his communication with France. Their aim was
to leave him the Elbe line, but to cut him off from France. Even at
the outset they planned to strike at Leipzig: their attack on Dresden
was an afterthought, timidly and slowly carried out. As long, however,
as their Grand Army clung to the Erz mountains, they paralyzed his
movements to the east and north, which merely played into their hands.
As regards the execution of the allied plans, the honours must
unquestionably rest with Blücher and Gneisenau. Their tactful retreats
before Napoleon in Silesia, their crushing blow at Macdonald, above
all, their daring flank march to Wartenburg and thence to Halle, are
exploits of a very high order; and doubtless it was the emergence of
this unsuspected volcanic force from the unbroken flats of continental
mediocrity that nonplussed Napoleon and led to the results described
above. Truly heroic was Blücher's determination to push on to Leipzig,
even when the enemy was seizing the Elbe bridges in his rear. The
veteran saw clearly that a junction with Schwarzenberg near Leipzig
was the all-important step, and that it must bring back the French to
that point. His judgment was as sound as his strokes were trenchant;
and, owing to the illusions which Napoleon still cherished as to the
saving strength of the Elbe line, the French arrived on that mighty
battlefield half-famished and wearied by fruitless marches and
countermarches. Of all Napoleon's campaigns, that of the second part
of 1813 must rank as by far the weakest in conception, the most
fertile in blunders, and the most disastrous in its results for
France.
NOTE TO THE THIRD EDITION.--In order not to overcrowd these chapters
with diplomatic details, I have made only the briefest reference to
the Treaties signed at Teplitz on Sept. 9th, 1813, with Russia and
Prussia, which cemented the fourth great Coalition; but it will be
well to describe them here.
A way having been paved for a closer union by the Treaty of Kalisch
(see p. 276) and by that of Reichenbach (see p. 317), it was now
agreed (1) that Austria and Prussia should be restored as nearly as
possible to the position which they held in 1805; (2) that the
Confederation of the Rhine should be dissolved; (3) and that "full and
unconditional independence" should be accorded to the princes of the
other German States. This last clause was firmly but vainly opposed by
Stein and the German Unionist party. Austria's help was so sorely
needed that she could dictate her terms, and she began to scheme for
the creation of a sort of _Fürstenbund_, or League of Princes, under
her hegemony. The result was seen in her Treaty of October 7th, 1813,
with Bavaria, which detached that State from the French alliance and
assured the success of Metternich's plans for Germany (see pp.
354-355). The smaller States soon followed the lead given by Bavaria;
and the reconstruction of Germany on the Austrian plan was further
assured by the Treaty of Chaumont (see pp. 402-403). Thus the dire
need of Austrian help felt by Russia and Prussia throughout the
campaigns of 1813-1814 had no small share in moulding the future of
Europe.
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