Napoleon esteemed the battle of Borodino, or Moskwa, his “greatest feat
of arms.” But his conduct during the conflict has been the subject of
much animadversion, and many critics agree with Segur that he did not
display upon that field his usual splendor and power of genius.—But to
the incidents of Borodino.
The Russian army halted at Borodino, and intelligence was brought to the
Emperor of the French that they were breaking up the whole plain and
forming intrenchments in every part. Napoleon then announced to his
troops the approaching battle, and allowed them two days rest to prepare
their arms and collect their provision.
Napoleon was leading his army onwards farther and farther, through
pathless deserts, or over ruined fields, or towns laid in ashes;
fatigue, famine, and war, were reducing his numbers, and he was at every
step increasing his distance from his resources, while his enemies were
in the heart of their own country. Even at Wilna, a deficiency had been
discovered in the hospital department; the evil increased at Witepsk. At
Smolensko, there was no want of hospitals; fifteen large brick
buildings, saved from the flames, had been set apart for this purpose,
and there was plenty of wine, brandy, and medicines, but there was a
dearth of dressings for the appalling number of wounds. The surgeons had
already used all that could be procured—had torn up their own linen, and
at length were obliged to substitute the paper found in the city
archives. One hospital, containing a hundred wounded men, was forgotten,
in the stress of difficulties, for the space of three whole days. The
state of its wretched inmates when it was accidentally discovered by
Rapp, none of the chroniclers of these events have ever attempted to
describe, and the imagination recoils with horror from the attempt to
realise it. Napoleon sent them his own stock of wine, and many pecuniary
gratuities. The alarming decrease of numbers noticed at Witepsk was
still more perceptible now. The army at Smolensko might be computed at
about one hundred and fifty-seven thousand men, part of the deficiency
being caused by the occupation of additional territory; the rest by
desertion, wounds, sickness, or death. With such a force, however,
Napoleon had no reason for apprehension, if he could bring his enemies
to a battle; but it was evident that Barclay had discovered and
resolutely pursued a more efficient plan. It seems certain, therefore,
that Napoleon did entertain thoughts of establishing winter-quarters at
Smolensko; of intrenching himself strongly, bringing up his
reinforcements and supplies, and in this central point commanding the
roads to both the capitals of Russia; waiting proposals of peace, or
preparing for a fresh campaign in the spring. The danger of so long an
absence from France; the difficulty of holding together an army composed
of many different nations; the news of fresh successes achieved by his
various leaders in different directions; above all, the impetuosity of
his own temperament, decided the point. The only doubt which long
existed was on which of the two capitals to advance. By the 24th of
August, all was decided, and the French army was in full march towards
Moscow.
Sixteen thousand recruits, and a vast multitude of peasants, joined the
ranks of Kutusoff. On the 4th of September, the French left Gjatz. The
heads of their columns were now more than ever annoyed by troops of
Cossacks, and the frequent necessity of making his cavalry deploy
against so temporary and random an obstacle, provoked Murat to such a
degree that he once clapped spurs to his horse, and dashing alone to the
front of their line, halted within a few paces, and waving his sabre
with the most indignant and menacing authority, signified his command
for them to withdraw. The sudden apparition of this splendid figure in
front of their ranks, with the air of one who possessed the power of
annihilating them with a blow, so took these barbarians by surprise that
they instantly withdrew in vague astonishment. They shortly, however,
returned, and received the charge of the Italian chasseurs. Platoff has
since related that in this affair, a Russian officer, who had brought a
sorcerer with him, was wounded; whereupon he ordered the sorcerer to be
soundly drubbed, as he had expressly directed him to turn aside all the
balls by his conjurations.
Napoleon now surveyed the whole country from an eminence, and displayed
marvellous sagacity in the conclusions he drew as to the positions and
intentions of the enemy. Vast numbers of troops were posted in front of
their left, and he concluded that this must be the point where their
ground was most accessible, and that they had there constructed a
formidable redoubt. It was, therefore, necessary to carry this. The
attack was general, and the Russian rear-guards were driven back upon
Borodino. This curtain being removed, the first Russian redoubt was
discovered. The division of Compans attacked it, and the 61st regiment
took it at the point of the bayonet. Bagration sent reinforcements, and
it was retaken. It was again taken by the 61st, and this occurred three
times, till finally, with the loss of half the regiment, it remained in
possession of the French. But a neighboring wood was swarming with
Russian riflemen, and it required the efforts of Morand, Poniatowski,
and Murat, to complete the conquest. Firing, nevertheless, continued
till nightfall.
Not a single prisoner had been taken. When Napoleon heard this, he asked
many questions impatiently. Were the Russians determined to conquer or
die? He was answered, that their priests and chiefs had wrought them up
to a state of fanaticism in their love for their country and their
abhorrence of their invaders. The Emperor at this fell into meditation,
and concluded that a battle of artillery would be the only efficient
mode to adopt. On that night, a thin, cold rain, began to fall, and
autumn proclaimed its approach by violent gusts of wind. The French
slept without fires.
On the morning of the 6th of September, the two armies were again
visible to each other, in the same position as the preceding day had
left them. This excited a general joy among the French. At last, this
desultory, vagrant, and irritating war, in which so many brave men had
perished, to so little advantage, seemed about to come to a satisfactory
issue. The Emperor rode forth at the earliest dawn, and surveyed the
whole front of the enemy’s army, by passing along a succession of
eminences that rose between the two antagonist powers.
The Russians were in possession of all the heights, on a semi-circle of
two leagues extent from the Mosqua to the old Moscow road. Their centre,
commanded by Barclay, formed the salient part of their line; it was
protected by the Kalogha, by a ravine, and by two strong redoubts at its
extremities. Their right and left receded. Their right rested on the
precipitous and rocky bank of the Kalogha, and was defended by deep and
muddy ravines. A strong redoubt also crowned the height, which was lined
with eighty pieces of cannon. Bagration commanded the left; it was
stationed on a less elevated crest than the centre, and having lost the
protection of its great redoubt was the most accessible point of their
army. Two small hills crowned with redoubts protected its front. It was
flanked by a wood, beyond which, on the extreme left, was a corps
commanded by Tutchkoff, but stationed at so great a distance as to
permit the possibility of manœuvring on the intervening ground
without previously overwhelming this detached corps.
Having concluded his observation, Napoleon made his plan. “Eugene,” he
said, “should be the pivot; the battle must be begun by the right. As
soon as the right, advancing under the protection of the wood, shall
have carried the redoubts of the Russian left wing, it must turn to the
left, march on the Russian flank, overthrowing and driving back their
whole army upon their right wing, and into the Kalogha.” Napoleon was
still on the heights, taking a last view of the ground, and considering
the details of the grand plan he had formed, when Davoust hastily
approached him. The marshal had a proposal of his own to make, by which
he expected to turn the enemy’s left in the night, and by surprise. The
Emperor listened to him with great attention, but after silently
considering the proposition for a few minutes, rejected it, and
persisted in his rejection, notwithstanding the confidence with which it
was urged by Davoust. He then re-entered his tent, when Murat
pertinaciously strove to persuade him that the Russians would again
retreat before he commenced his attack. The Emperor in some agitation
returned to the heights of Borodino, where, however, every indication of
an intention to remain and fight was observable among the Russians. He
had taken very few attendants, to avoid being recognized by the enemy’s
batteries; but at the moment he was pointing out the signs he had
observed to Murat, the discharge of one of their cannon broke the
silence of the day;—“for it is frequently the case,” observes Segur,
“that nothing is so calm as the day which precedes a great battle.”
The Emperor now returned to his tent to dictate the order of battle. The
two armies were nearly equal,—about a hundred and twenty thousand men,
and six hundred pieces of cannon on each side. The Russians had the best
position, and the additional advantages of speaking the same language,
wearing the same uniform, and fighting for a common cause; and of being
near, their resources, and in their own country; but they had too many
raw recruits in their ranks. The army of Napoleon had just completed a
long and harassing march; was made up of many nations, and in the midst
of a hostile people; but it was entirely composed of tried soldiers, who
had fought their way through many a desperate battle, and held their
ranks through every hardship. The proclamation issued by Napoleon was
suited to the men and the circumstances. It was grave, simple, and
energetic. “Soldiers,” said he, “you have now before you the battle
which you have so long desired. From this moment, the victory depends
upon yourselves. It is necessary for us; it will bring us abundance,
good winter quarters, and a speedy return to our country.” It happened
that the Emperor had that day received the portrait of his son from
Paris. He himself exhibited the picture in front of his tent.
Kutusoff, on his part, had worked upon the feelings of the Russians by
means suited to their condition. He had induced the chief priests or
popes of the Greek church, dressed in their richest robes, to walk in
splendid procession before his army. They carried the symbols of their
religion, and foremost of all a sacred image of the Virgin, withdrawn
from Smolensko by a miracle. He then addressed the soldiers on the
subject of heaven, “the only country which slaves have left to
them,”—and incited the serfs to defend their master’s property in the
name of the Great Teacher of universal brotherhood. The whole ceremony
worked the effect which he intended, and roused his hearers to the
highest pitch of courage and fanaticism.
During the night, the whole French army was stationed in order of
battle, and three batteries, of sixty pieces each, were opposed to the
Russian redoubts. Poniatowski commanded the right wing, which was
destined to commence the attack on the Russian left. The whole of the
artillery were to support his attack. Davoust and Ney, supported by
Junot, with the Westphalians, and Murat with the cavalry, were in the
centre, and ready to precipitate themselves upon the Russians after the
opening of the battle by Poniatowski. Prince Eugene, with the army of
Italy, and the Bavarian cavalry, formed the left. The Emperor held his
guard in reserve. He appeared very unwell, depressed in spirits, and
unable to sleep. He was oppressed with fever and excessive thirst,
probably the result of over fatigue and anxiety. The news of the defeat
of his troops at Salamanca, had just been brought to him by Fabvier, an
aid-de-camp of Marmont; but he received the account with great firmness
and temper. Present events only seemed to weigh on his mind. He
repeatedly called to ascertain the hour, and to inquire whether any
sounds indicative of a retreat had been heard in the opposite army. On
one occasion his aid-de-camp found him resting his head on his hands,
and the few words he said indicated that his thoughts were dwelling on
the vanity of human glory. He asked Rapp, whether he thought they should
gain the victory? “Undoubtedly,” answered Rapp, “but it will be a bloody
one!” On which Napoleon replied, “I know it; but I have eighty thousand
men. I shall lose twenty thousand of them, and with sixty thousand shall
enter Moscow. The stragglers will there rejoin us, and afterwards the
battalions of recruits now on their march, and we shall be stronger than
before the battle.” He seemed neither to comprehend the guard nor the
cavalry in this calculation. Before daybreak, one of Ney’s officers
announced the Russians still in view, and asked leave to begin the
attack. These words restored the Emperor. He rose; summoned his
officers; and leaving his tent exclaimed, “At last we have them!
March!—We will to-day open for ourselves the gates of Moscow!”
It was half-past five in the morning, when Napoleon took his station
near the great redoubt which had been taken on the 5th. As the sun rose,
he pointed to the east, saying, “There is the sun of Austerlitz!” The
artillery were employed in pushing forward the batteries which had been
placed too far back. The Russians made no opposition; they seemed
fearful of being the first to break the awful silence. While waiting for
the sound of Poniatowski’s fire on the right, Napoleon ordered Eugene to
take the Tillage of Borodino, on the left. The 106th regiment
accordingly opened the attack; gained the village; rushed across the
bridge, in the ardor of success, and would have been cut off had not the
92d come up to their relief. During this action, sounds on the right
announced that Poniatowski had commenced his attack, and Napoleon
immediately gave the signal of battle. “Then, suddenly,” says Segur,
“from the previously peaceful plain and silent hills, burst forth
flashes of fire and clouds of smoke, which were instantly followed by a
multitude of explosions and the whizzing of innumerable bullets which
rent the air on every side. In the midst of this thunder, Davoust, with
the divisions of Compans and Desaix, and thirty cannon, advanced rapidly
upon the first redoubt of the enemy.” The fusillade of the Russians now
commenced, and was answered by the French cannon. The French infantry
advanced at a quick pace, without firing; but General Compans, who
headed the column, fell wounded with the foremost of his men, and the
rest halted under the storm of balls. Rapp instantly took the post of
Compans, and urged the troops forward at a running pace with charged
bayonets, when he also fell. It was the twenty-second wound that he had
received. He was conveyed to the Emperor, who exclaimed, “What! Rapp!
always wounded! but how are they going on above there?” The aid-de-camp
replied, that the guard was wanted to finish the business. “No,” said
Napoleon, “I will take good care of that; I will not have that
destroyed. I will gain the battle without it.” A third general, who
succeeded Rapp, likewise fell; and Davoust himself was struck. At this
moment, Ney, with his three divisions of ten thousand men, threw himself
into the plain to support Davoust, and the Russian fire was thus
diverted. Ney rushed on; Davoust’s columns continued their advance with
renewed confidence; and almost at the same time both of the French
divisions scaled the heights; overthrew or killed their defenders, and
obtained possession of both the redoubts of the Russian left. Napoleon
then ordered Murat to charge and complete the victory. The king was on
the heights in an instant; but the Russians, reinforced by their second
line, now advanced with rapidity to regain their redoubts. The French
were taken by surprise in the first disorder of their success, and
retreated. Murat, endeavoring in vain to rally the troops, found himself
nearly surrounded, and alone amidst the enemy’s cavalry. They were even
stretching out their arms to take him prisoner, when he escaped by
throwing himself into one of the redoubts. There he found only a few
soldiers in utter disorder. They were running backwards and forwards
upon the parapet in consternation; but he seized the first weapon he
could find, and fought with one hand, while he waved his plumed hat in
the air with the other. His presence and his rallying calls to duty soon
restored the courage of the men. Ney quickly reformed his divisions; his
fire threw the Russians into disorder; Murat was extricated; and the
heights reconquered. Murat was no sooner freed from this danger than he
furiously and repeatedly charged the enemy at the head of the French
cavalry, and in another hour the Russian left wing was entirely
defeated.
In the meantime, a dreadful conflict had raged unceasingly on the French
left. After Eugene had taken the village of Borodino, he had passed the
Kalogha, in front of the great Russian redoubt, which was lined with
eighty pieces of cannon, and protected by a ravine. General Bonnamy, at
the head of eighteen hundred men of the 30th regiment, carried this
strong position by one sudden charge, at six o’clock in the morning. But
the Russians recovered from their first panic; and, rallying before
their assailants could be supported, they were headed by Kutusoff and
Yermdof in person, and made an attack in their turn. Bonnamy’s regiment
was surrounded, overwhelmed, and driven from the redoubt, with the loss
of its commander and one-third of its numbers. Eugene, however,
maintained his station on the sloping sides of the heights for four
hours, under a terrific fire, and, until he was relieved by the turn of
the battle, when Kutusoff was obliged to defend the left of his centre,
now exposed in consequence of the defeat of his left wing by the
divisions of Ney, Davoust, and Murat as already detailed. The defence of
Kutusoff was then carried on at two points. He poured a tremendous fire,
with devastating effect, upon the troops of Ney and Murat, from the
heights of the ruined village of Semenowska. It became necessary to
carry that position. Maubourg swept the front of it with his cavalry;
Friand and Dufour, with their infantry, mounted the acclivity, dislodged
the Russians, and secured the position. The Russians had now lost every
one off their intrenchments except the great redoubt, on which Prince
Eugene was preparing for a decisive attack. He had already sent to
Napoleon for assistance, but received the reply, that “he could give him
no relief; it depended on him alone to conquer; that the battle was
concentrated on that point.” Murat and Ney, exhausted with their
efforts, also sent for reinforcements; but Napoleon concluded that the
presence of Friand and Maubourg on the heights would maintain them, and
he saw that the battle was not yet won. Amidst all the excitement of
these repeated and most urgent messages, he steadily refused to
compromise his reserve.
The Russians now rallied _en masse_. Kutusoff commanded all his
reserves, and even the Russian guard, to the assistance of his uncovered
left. Infantry, artillery, and cavalry, all advanced for one grand and
mighty effort. Ney and Murat, with intrepidity and firmness, sustained
the rushing tempest. It was no time for them to think of following up
their previous successes; all their strength was required to maintain
their position. Friand’s soldiers, ranged in front of the armed heights
of Semenowska, were swept off in whole ranks by a storm of grape-shot.
The survivors were dismayed, and one of their brave commanders ordered a
retreat; when Murat suddenly rode up to him, and catching hold of his
collar, exclaimed,—“What are you doing?” The colonel, pointing to the
ground on which half of his men lay dead or wounded, replied—“You see we
can stay here no longer!” Murat hastily rejoined—“I can stay here very
well myself!” The colonel looked steadily at him, and calmly replied—“It
is right. Soldiers! let us advance to be slain!”
Murat had again sent to Napoleon for assistance, and he now gave it
promptly and efficiently. The artillery of the guard were ordered to
advance. Eighty pieces of cannon quickly crowned the heights, and
discharged their contents at once. The Russian cavalry first charged
against this tremendous barrier, but retired in confusion to escape
destruction. The infantry exhibited a spectacle of stolid indifference
to death, or devotion to their country and their leaders, perhaps
unparalleled in the history of war,—affording a picture of the inherent
powers of human nature, worthy of study, while most horrible to
contemplate in their present misapplication. “The infantry,” says Segur,
“advanced in thick masses, in which our balls from the first made wide
and deep openings; yet they constantly came on nearer and nearer, when
the French batteries redoubling the rapidity of their fire, absolutely
mowed them down with grape-shot. Whole platoons fell at once. Their
soldiers struggled to preserve their compactness under this terrible
fire; and, divided every instant by death, they still closed their ranks
over it, trampling it with defiance under their feet. At last they
halted, not daring to advance any farther, and yet resolved not to go
back; whether they were appalled, and as it were petrified with horror
in this tremendous gulph of destruction; or whether it was owing to
Bagration being at that time mortally wounded; or whether it might be
that a first arrangement being attended with failure, their generals
felt incompetent to change it,—not possessing, like Napoleon, the art of
moving such vast bodies at once, with unity, harmony, and order. In
short, these heavy and stationary masses stood to be crushed and
destroyed in detail for two entire hours, _without any other movement
than that of the falling of the men_. It was in truth a deplorable and
frightful massacre; and the intelligent valor of the French artillerymen
admired the firm, resigned, but infatuated courage of their enemies.”
Scott describes the scene to the same effect. “Regiments of peasants,
who till that day had never seen war, and who still had no other uniform
than their grey jackets, formed with the steadiness of veterans, crossed
their brows, and having uttered their national exclamation ‘_Gospodee
pomiloui nas!_’ (God have mercy upon us,) rushed into the thickest of
the battle, where the survivors, without feeling fear or astonishment,
closed their ranks over their comrades as they fell.”
The problem, of whether that mass of men would have stood to be utterly
destroyed to the last individual, was never worked out; for a fresh
movement in the French army, bringing upon them a new form of peril, at
last restored them to a sense of their human conditions, and put them to
flight. Ney extended his right, pushed it rapidly forward, and, seconded
by Davoust and Murat, turned the left of the Russian centre, and
dispersed them. The battle still raged on the Russian right,—where
Barclay, intrenched in the great redoubt, obstinately struggled with
Prince Eugene,—and on their extreme left, where Poniatowski had as yet
failed to make himself master of the great Moscow road. When another
pressing demand for the guard, to complete the destruction of the
Russian army, was brought to Napoleon from Ney and Murat, who burned to
follow up the retreat of the defeated infantry, he pointed in silence to
those two conflicting bodies. The Emperor’s words ought to be
satisfactory as to the cause of his refusal to send his reserve, which
has occasioned so many animadversions. “The case,” he said, “was not
sufficiently extricated and conclusive to induce him yet to part with
his reserves; and that he must see more clearly the state of his
chess-board.” When Count Daru, at the pressing solicitation of Berthier,
repeated the request, and said in a low tone “that on all sides the cry
now was that the moment for the guard to act was come,” Napoleon
replied, “And if there should be a second battle on the morrow, what
shall I have to carry it on with?”
Kutusoff was still unconquered. He rallied for the third time, and
resting his right on the great redoubt, formed a fresh line in front of
Ney and Murat; but it was a last effort. General Caulaincourt, at the
head of the fifth French cuirassiers, made a desperate charge on the
rear of the redoubt, while Eugene maintained his ground in the front.
The last words of Caulaincourt, as he left Murat to open the attack, had
been, “You shall see me there immediately, dead or alive!” He charged at
the head of his regiment, overthrew all opposition, and was the first
man who penetrated into the redoubt, where, almost at the instant, he
fell mortally wounded; but that decisive charge determined the victory.
The troops of Prince Eugene were pressing onwards, and had nearly
reached the mouth of the battery, when suddenly its fire was
extinguished, its smoke dispersed, and above the now silent engines of
destruction appeared the moveable and polished brass which covered the
French cuirassiers. The Russians had been driven from their last
entrenchment. They returned with one more desperate effort to retake
this position, as if determined to die rather than endure defeat. Their
column advanced to the very mouths of the cannon, but at the terrible
discharge of thirty pieces of artillery, which were directed against
them, they appeared to be whirled round by the shock, and retired
without being able to deploy. Officers now came in from every part of
the field. Poniatowski, supported by Sebastiani, had conquered on the
left, after a desperate struggle. The sounds of firing became weaker and
less frequent. The Russians had retreated to a new position, where they
appeared to be intrenching themselves. The day was drawing to a close,
and the battle was ended.
Napoleon had remained nearly on the same spot throughout the whole of
the battle, seated on the edge of a trench, or walking backwards and
forwards on an elevated platform. He now mounted his horse, and slowly
passed amidst the heaps of dead and wounded till he reached the heights
of Semenowska. He said little; but the few words he uttered implied that
he felt his victory had cost him too dear. He then repaired to his tent
to write the bulletin of the battle, and made a point of announcing to
France that neither himself nor his reserve had been subject to the
least danger,—thus manifesting the confidence he felt in the opinion
entertained of him by the French; and, at the same time, informing
Europe that notwithstanding his distance from France, and while
surrounded by enemies in a hostile country, he was still safe and
powerful.
“It has been frequently asserted,” says Count Mathieu Dumas, intendant
general of the army, “that Napoleon did not display his customary
activity on this day.
“His apparent indifference has excited astonishment; it has been
intimated that he labored under bodily exhaustion; that he was not able
to call into action all the resources of his genius; in short, that his
star began to grow dim, even in the midst of victory. Napoleon certainly
appeared to be indisposed; he had undergone excessive fatigue during the
two preceding nights, which he had employed in person in reconnoitering
the positions of the enemy, in placing the corps of the army, and in
determining the point of attack. Having formed his plans to compel the
enemy to abandon their strong position, he would not consent to make any
change in the arrangements which he had resolved upon after profound
consideration. He placed himself at a short distance from his right
wing, against which it was probable that the Russian general would
direct his principal effort, in order to take the attacking columns in
the rear, while they should be stopped by the fire of the redoubts. The
station which Napoleon had chosen, was, in fact, the best point of
observation. It commanded a view of the whole field of battle, and if
any manœuvre, any partial success of the enemy, had required new
measures, the vigilance of Napoleon would not have failed to meet the
urgency of the case. He would have gone to the spot in person, as he did
at the battle of Wagram.
“About nine o’clock in the evening, Count Daru and myself were summoned
to the Emperor. His bivouac was in the middle of the square battalion of
his guard, a little behind the redoubt. His supper had just been served;
he was alone, and made us sit down on his right and left hand. After
having heard the account of the measures taken for the relief of the
wounded, &c., he spoke to us of the issue of the battle; a moment
afterwards he fell asleep for about twenty minutes; then, suddenly
waking, he continued thus: ‘People will be astonished that I did not
bring up my reserves to obtain more decisive results; but it was
necessary to keep them, in order to strike a decisive blow in the great
battle which the enemy will offer us before Moscow: the success of the
day was secured; I had to think of the success of the campaign, and it
is for that I keep my reserves.’”
The Emperor was mistaken in supposing that there would be another great
battle before Moscow; but in all other particulars, his sagacity was
admirably displayed. Still, Borodino was far from decisive. Before
daybreak the next morning, there was an alarm among the French, which
penetrated even to the tent of the Emperor, and the old guard was called
to arms. This was mortifying after a victory, and carried with it an air
of insult. As soon as morning dawned, the losses of the armies were
ascertained by Napoleon.
Ten thousand men had been killed, and the wounded amounted to no less
than twenty thousand. Forty-three generals had been killed or wounded.
Among the Russians, there had been fifteen thousand killed, including
the gallant Prince Bagration, and thirty thousand wounded. The French
carried their wounded two leagues in the rear, to the large monastery of
Kolotskoi. The chief surgeon, Larrey, had taken assistants from all the
other regiments, and the hospital wagons had arrived—but all that could
be done for the conveyance was insufficient. Larrey subsequently
complained that not sufficient troops had been left to enable him to
obtain the necessary articles from the surrounding villages.
When the Emperor inspected the field of battle, every thing concurred to
increase its horrors. A gloomy sky, a cold rain, a violent wind,
habitations in ashes, a plain absolutely torn up and covered with
fragments and ruins, rendered the scene of carnage yet more appalling.
The dark and funereal verdure of the north was seen all round the
horizon. Soldiers were roaming like wild beasts among the bodies of
their dead comrades, and emptying their knapsacks to procure subsistence
for themselves. The wounds of the slain were of the most hideous
description, occasioned by the large bullets used by the Russians. The
bivouacs were mournful; no songs of triumph, no lively narrations,—all
dreary and silent. Around the eagles were the rest of the officers and
subalterns, and a few soldiers,—barely sufficient to guard the colours.
Their uniforms were torn by the violence of the conflict, blackened with
powder, and stained with blood; yet even amidst their rags, their
misery, and destitution, they displayed a lofty bearing, and on the
appearance of Napoleon welcomed him with acclamations.
Many wounded men were found in the bottom of ravines, where the French
troops had been precipitated, or where they had dragged themselves for
shelter from the enemy or the storm. Some of the younger soldiers in
sighs and groans were calling upon the name of their country, or of
their mother; but most of the veterans awaited death either with an
impassive or a sardonic air, neither imploring or complaining. The
anguish of some of the wounded made them beg of their comrades, as a
mercy, to kill them instantly. Among the Russians, the enormous number
of wounded presented on every side a spectacle of moving horrors. Many
of these mutilated objects were seen dragging themselves with bloody
trails along the ground, towards places where they might find shelter
among a heap of dead bodies. Napoleon’s horse chancing to tread upon the
body of one apparently dead, a cry of anguish startled him, and excited
his compassion. Somebody remarked that “it was only a Russian;”—upon
which Napoleon angrily reproved the speaker, and observed that, “after a
battle, none were enemies,—but all were men.” The Emperor ordered the
prisoners that had been taken, to be again numbered, and a few
dismounted cannon to be collected. Between seven and eight hundred
prisoners, and a score of unserviceable cannon, were the sole trophies
of this most sanguinary and imperfect victory.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration]