The Camp-fires of Napoleon

At dark, the Emperor could sum up the results of this terrible battle, in which between three and four hundred thousand men, with from twelve to fifteen hundred pieces of artillery, did the work of death. Ten flags, forty pieces of cannon, twenty thousand prisoners, of whom three or four hundred were officers, were the trophies. Besides these, the Austrians left upon the field about nine thousand men wounded, and an immense number of slain. The Archduke himself was wounded in this bloody struggle. The French had suffered a severe loss. Besides a great number of brave men who had been swept into the sea of death by the storm of the Austrian artillery, there were six thousand wounded, among whom were Marshal Bessieres, and the Generals Sahuc, Seras, Defranc, Grenier, Vignoble and Frere.

It was a fitting time to do honor to the unrivalled commanders of the army. Macdonald had been in a kind of disgrace. But the Emperor now forgot all but his unequalled charge. He advanced to that intrepid general, and said, “Shake hands, Macdonald; no more animosity between us: let us henceforth be friends!” That night, by the camp-fire of Wagram, three new marshals of the empire were created, viz.:—Macdonald, Oudinot and Marmont.

The troops were excessively fatigued, and were glad when they received orders from the Emperor to cease the pursuit, and bivouac on the plain of Wagram. The Emperor then entered his tent to seek repose. But he had not tasted its sweets more than half an hour, when an aid-de-camp came in hurriedly, crying, “Up! up! to arms!” This cry was caught up and repeated throughout the whole army, startling the quiet night. “In five minutes,” says the author of Travels in Moravia, “the troops were in position and ready for action, and the Emperor was on horseback, with all his generals around him. This rapid and regular movement was unparalleled. And certainly it was an astonishing display of perfect discipline and promptitude. The cause of this alarm was the approach of an Austrian corps, numbering three thousand men, under the Archduke John. But that body, having failed in an attempt at surprise, retreated, and the French returned to their bivouacs, much amused with the incident of the night. In a short time, all was silent again upon the bloody plain of Wagram.

Then followed the treaty of Schœnbrunn, which once more prostrated the coalition, and secured Maria Louisa, a daughter of the proud house of Hapsburg-Lorraine, in the place of the beloved Josephine, as Empress of France. Thus the child of the people had conquered an alliance with the daughter of emperors.

THE CAMP-FIRE ON THE NIEMEN

The oppressive continental policy of Napoleon caused the rupture of the peace of Tilsit, and led to the grand, but disastrous invasion of Russia. Alexander gave the first offence by not fulfilling the condition of his treaty with Napoleon. The French Emperor then began to see the error of that treaty. It should have secured the independence of Poland. The czar pressed Napoleon for a declaration that Poland should never be re-established, but the Emperor refused to make this concession. Both rulers then prepared for a struggle on a gigantic scale. Napoleon determined to invade, and Alexander was resolved to make a resolute defence.

Napoleon determined to concentrate an army of four hundred thousand men upon the banks of the Niemen. He was thoroughly informed of the vast resources of France and of the condition of the country through which he would be compelled to march. As far as human calculation could reach, his views were clear and accurate.

It was from the bosom of that France, of which he had made a “citadel,” which appeared impregnable, and across that Germany whose sovereigns were at his feet, that Napoleon wended his way towards the frontier of the Russian empire, in order to place himself at the head of the most formidable army which the genius of conquest had ever led. Fouche, Cardinal Fesch, and other noted councillors strove to dissuade Napoleon from the impending war; but the Emperor was confident, and seems to have entertained no doubt of his success. “The war,” he said, “is a wise measure, called for by the true interests of France and the general welfare. The great power I have already attained, compels me to assume an universal dictatorship. My views are not ambitious. I desire to obtain no further acquisition; and reserve to myself only the glory of doing good, and the blessings of posterity. There must be but one European code; one court of appeal; one system of money, weights and measures; equal justice and uniform laws throughout the continent. Europe must constitute but one great nation, and Paris must be the capital of the world.” Grand but premature conception!

The signal for the advance of the Grand Army was now sounded. It moved forward in thirteen divisions, besides the Imperial Guard, and certain chosen troops. The first division was headed by the stern and intrepid Davoust; the second, by Oudinot; the third, by the indomitable Ney; the fourth, by the skilful Prince Eugene; the fifth, by the devoted Poniatowski; the sixth, by that cool and skilful general, Gouvion St. Cyr; the seventh, by the veteran Regnier; the eighth, by the brave but reckless Jerome Bonaparte; the ninth, by the resolute Victor; the tenth, by the hero of Wagram, Macdonald; the eleventh, by the old veteran of Italy, Augereau; the twelfth, by the bold and brilliant Murat; and the thirteenth by Prince Schwartzenberg. The Old Guard—that solid and impenetrable phalanx—was commanded by Bessieres, Le Febre and Mortier.

Long before daybreak, on the 23d of June, the French army approached the Niemen. It was only two o’clock in the morning, when the Emperor, accompanied only by General Hays, rode forward to reconnoitre. He wore a Polish dress and bonnet, and thus escaped observation. After a close scrutiny, he discovered a spot near the village of Poineven, above Kowno, favorable to the passage of the troops, and gave orders for three bridges to be thrown across, at nightfall. The whole day was occupied in preparing facilities for the passage of the river, the line which separated them from the Russian soil.

The first who crossed the river were a few sappers in a boat. The day had been very warm, and the night was welcomed by the weary soldiers, who knew they had yet a difficult task to perform. Napoleon, who had been somewhat depressed all day, now seemed to regain his cheerful spirits. He posted himself upon a slight eminence, where he could superintend operations. The sappers found all silent on the Russian soil, and no enemy appeared to oppose them, with the exception of a single Cossack officer on patrole, who asked, with an air of surprise, who they were, and what they wanted. The sappers quickly replied, “Frenchmen!” and one of them briskly added, “Come to make war upon you; to take Wilna, and deliver Poland.” The Cossack fled into the wood, and three French soldiers discharged their pieces at him without effect. These three shots were the signals for the opening of this ever-memorable campaign. Their echoes roused Napoleon from the lethargy into which he had fallen, and he immediately planned the most active measures.

Three hundred voltigeurs were sent across to protect the erection of the bridges. At the same time, the dark masses of the French columns began to issue from the valleys and forests, and to approach the river, in order to cross it at dawn of day.

All fires were forbidden, and perfect silence was enjoined. The men slept with their arms in their hands, on the green corn, heavily moistened with dew, which served them for beds, and their horses for provender. Those on watch, passed the hours in reading over the Emperor’s proclamation, and speculating on the prospect which the daylight would disclose. The night was keen, and pitch dark. The silence maintained amidst such a prodigious mass of life—felt to be there, whilst nothing could be seen—rendered the hours unspeakably solemn.

Before dawn, the whole array was under arms; but the first beams of the sun shewed no opposing enemy; nothing but dry and desert sand, and dark silent forests. On their own side of the river, men and horses, and glittering arms, covered every spot of ground within the range of the eye, and the Emperor’s tent in the midst of them stood on an elevation. At a given signal, the immense mass began to defile in three columns towards the bridges. Two divisions of the advanced guard, in their ardor for the precedence, nearly came to blows. Napoleon crossed among the first, and stationed himself near the bridges to encourage the men by his presence. They saluted him with their usual acclamations. He seemed depressed, for a time, partly owing to his previous exertions and want of rest, partly from the excessive heat of the day, but no doubt still more from the passive desolation which met his forces, when he had expected a mortal enemy to contend with him in arms. This latter feeling was presently manifested in its reaction, and with a fierce impatience he set spurs to his horse, dashed into the country, and penetrated the forest which bordered the river; “as if,” says Segur, “he were on fire to come in contact with the enemy alone.” He rode more than a league in the same direction, surrounded throughout by the same solitude. He then returned to the vicinity of the bridges, and led the army into the country, while a menacing sky hung black and heavy over the moving host. The distant thunder began to roar and swell, and the storm soon descended. The lightning flamed across the whole expanse above their heads; they were drenched with torrents of rain; the roads were all inundated; and the recently oppressive heat of the atmosphere was suddenly changed to a bitter chilliness. Some thousands of horses perished on the march, and in the bivouacs which followed: many equipages were abandoned on the sands; and many men fell sick and died.

The Emperor found shelter in a convent, from the first fury of the tempest, but shortly departed for Kowno, where the greatest disorder prevailed. The passage of Oudinot had been impeded by the bridge across the Vilia having been broken down by the Cossacks. Napoleon treated this circumstance with contempt, and ordered a squadron of the Polish guard to spur into the flood, and swim across. This fine picked troop instantly obeyed. They proceeded at first in good order, and soon reached the centre of the river; but here the current was too strong, and their ranks were broken. They redoubled their exertions, but the horses became frightened and unmanageable. Both men and horses were soon exhausted. They no longer swam, but floated about in scattered groups, rising and sinking, while some among them went down. At length, the men, finding destruction inevitable, ceased their struggles, but as they were sinking, they turned their faces towards Napoleon, and cried out, “Vive l’Empereur!” Three of these noble-spirited patriots uttered this cry, while only a part of their faces were above the waters. The army was struck with a mixture of horror and admiration. Napoleon watched the scene apparently unmoved, but gave every order he could devise for the purpose of saving as many of them as possible, though with little effect. It is probable that his strongest feeling, even at the time, was a presentiment that this disastrous event was but the beginning of others, at once tremendous and extensive.

Marshal Oudinot with the second corps crossed the Vilia, by a bridge at Keydani. Meanwhile the rest of the army was still crossing the Niemen, in which operation three entire days were consumed.

After the first night of the arrival upon the Niemen, camp-fires were permitted, and their vast line illumined the sky to a great distance. The troops suffered severely from the sudden changes of the weather—from oppressive heat to piercing cold. But when we learn their sufferings in the rest of the campaign, we forget this first taste of misery. Before the army had entirely crossed the Niemen, Napoleon reached the plain of Wilna, which he found the Russians had deserted. However, he was received by the inhabitants of Wilna as a deliverer, and the restorer of the nationality of Poland. Still the steady movement of retreat, laying waste the country—the plan which the Russian generals had adopted—caused the Emperor to be gloomy, and it seemed as if the cloud of adversity had already begun to obscure his star.

THE CAMP-FIRE AT WITESPSK

The first combat of importance during the Russian campaign was fought at Ostrowna. On the 18th of July, Napoleon reached Klubokoe. There he was informed that the Russian general, Barclay de Tolly, had abandoned the camp at Drissa, and was marching towards Witepsk. He immediately ordered all his corps upon Beszenkowici; and so admirable and precise were his combinations, that the whole of his immense mass of armies reached the place in one day. Segur has graphically described the apparent chaos of confusion which seemed to result from that very regularity itself. The columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, presenting themselves on every side; the rush, the crossing, the jostling; the contention for quarters, and for forage and provisions; the aides-de-camp bearing important orders vainly struggling to open a passage. At length, before mid night, order had taken the place of this apparent anarchy. The vast collection of troops had flowed off towards Ostrowno, or been quartered in the town, and profound silence succeeded the tumult. The Russian army had got the start of Napoleon, and now occupied Witepsk.

The first combat of Ostrowno took place on the 25th of July. The Russian infantry, protected by a wood, fiercely contested the ground, but were beaten back at every point by the repeated charges of Murat, seconded by the eighth regiment of infantry, and the divisions of Bruyeres and St. Germains; and at length the division of Delzons coming up completed the victory of the French. On the 26th, the Russians who had been reinforced, and had occupied a very strong position, seemed disposed to renew the struggle. Barclay had thrown forward this portion of his force to retard the French advance, while he daily looked for the junction of Bagration. The French van had also been reinforced; Prince Eugene with the Italian division having joined in the night. The numbers and strong position of the Russians gave them an immense superiority in the beginning of the day. They attacked with fury, issuing in large masses out of their woods with deafening war cries. The French regiments opposed to this onset were mowed down, beaten back, and in danger of an irretrievable rout. At this critical moment, Murat placed himself at the head of a regiment of Polish lancers, and with word and gesture incited them to an unanimous and energetic rush. Roused by his address, and inspired with rage at the sight of their oppressors, they obeyed with impetuosity. His object had been to launch them against the enemy, not to mingle personally in the torrent of the fight, which must disqualify him for the command; but their lances were in their rests, and closely filed behind him; they occupied the whole width of the ground; they hurried him forwards at the full speed of their horses, and he was absolutely compelled to charge at their head, which he did, as the eye-witnesses affirm, “with an admirable grace,” his plumed hat and splendid uniform giving him on this occasion, and numberless others in which he displayed a most joyous and reckless courage, the air of some knight of romance. This impetuous onset was seconded by the other French leaders. Eugene, General Girardin, and General Pire attacked at the head of their columns, and finally the wood was gained. The Russians retreated, and disappeared from view in a forest two leagues in depth, into the recesses of which even the impetuosity of Murat hesitated to follow. The forest was the last obstacle which hid Witepsk from their view. At this moment of uncertainty, Napoleon appeared with the main body of the army, and all difficulties and uncertainties soon vanished. After hearing the report of the two princes, he went without delay to the highest point of ground he could reach. There he observed long and carefully the nature of the position, and calculated the movements of his enemies; he then ordered an immediate advance. The whole army rapidly traversed the forest, and began to debouch upon the plain of Witepsk before night-fall. The approaching darkness, the multitude of Russian watch-fires which covered the open ground, and the time requisite to complete the extrication of his several divisions from the defiles of the forest, obliged Napoleon to halt at this point. He believed himself to be in presence of the main Russian army, and on the eve of the great battle he so ardently desired. He left his tent, and repaired to his advanced posts before daybreak on the 27th, and the first rays of the sun shewed him the whole of Barclay’s forces encamped on an elevated position, commanding all the avenues of Witepsk. The deep channel of the river Lucszissa marked the foot of this position, and ten thousand cavalry and a body of infantry were stationed in advance of the river to dispute its approaches; the main body of the Russian infantry was in the centre on the high road; its left, on woody eminences; its right, supported by cavalry, resting on the Dwina.

Napoleon took his station on an insulated hill in view of both armies. Here, surrounded by a circle of chasseurs of his guard, he directed the movements of his troops as they successively advanced to form in line of battle. Two hundred Parisian voltigeurs of the ninth regiment of the line, were the first who debouched, and were ranged on the left in front of the Russian cavalry, and resting, like it, on the Dwina; they were followed by the sixteenth chasseurs and some artillery. The Russians looked on with coolness, offering no opposition. This favorable state of inaction was suddenly interrupted by Murat. Intoxicated at the brilliant and imposing assemblage of so many thousands of spectators, he precipitated the French chasseurs upon the whole Russian cavalry. They were met by an overwhelming opposition; broken, put to flight, and the foremost cut to pieces. The King of Naples, stung to the quick at this result, threw himself into the thickest of the rout and confusion, sword in hand. His life had nearly been forfeited to his headstrong valor. A furious and well-directed blow was just descending on his head, aimed from behind by a Russian trooper, and it was only averted by a sudden slash from the sabre of the orderly who attended Murat, which cut off the trooper’s arm. The consequences of these rash proceedings did not stop here. The successful resistance of the Russian cavalry impelled them to advance nearly as far as the hill on which Napoleon was posted, and his guard with great difficulty drove them back by repeated discharges of their carbines. The two hundred Parisian voltigeurs, left in an isolated position by the disorder into which the chasseurs had been thrown, were next placed in imminent peril. The Russian cavalry in returning to the main body, attacked and surrounded the voltigeurs. Both armies, spectators of this sudden and unequal conflict, regarded that small band of men as utterly lost. To the amazement of both French and Russians, however, this handful of apparent victims was presently seen to emerge unhurt from the dense cloud of assailants, who continued their original movement upon their own position. The voltigeurs had rapidly thrown themselves into square on a woody and broken space of ground, close to the river. Here the Russian cavalry could not act, while the steady fire of the voltigeurs made such havoc that their assailants were glad to leave them as they found them. Napoleon sent the cross of the Legion of Honor to every one of them on the spot.

The remainder of the day was spent by Napoleon in stationing his army; in waiting for the successive arrivals of different corps,—to be brief, in preparing for a decisive battle on the morrow. The more ardent of his generals wished that he had not waited till “the morrow,” and when he took leave of Murat with the words, “To-morrow you will see the sun of Austerlitz,” the King of Naples incredulously shook his head, saying, that “Barclay only assumed that posture of defiance, the better to ensure his retreat;” and then, with a temerity, verging on the ludicrous, gave vent to his impatient irritation by ordering his tent to be pitched on the banks of the Lucszissa, nearly in the midst of the enemy, that he might be the first to catch the sounds of their retreat.

Murat was right. The Russians retreated while the Emperor was preparing to make Witepsk the scene of a decisive battle. At daybreak, Murat came to inform the Emperor that he was going in pursuit of the Russians who were no longer in sight. Napoleon would not at first credit the report, but their empty camp soon convinced him of the truth. There was not even a trace to indicate the route Barclay had taken. The army then entered Witepsk, and found it deserted. They then followed in pursuit for six leagues, through a deep and burning sand, and during the march the soldiers suffered dreadfully from thirst. At last, night put an end to their progress at Agliaponorchtchina. While the troops were busy in procuring some muddy water to drink, Napoleon held a council, the result of which was, that it was useless to pursue the Russian army any further at present, and that it was advisable to halt where they were, on the borders of Old Russia. As soon as the Emperor had formed this resolution, he returned to Witepsk with his guards. On entering his head-quarters in that city on the 28th, he took off his sword, and laid it down on the maps which covered his table. “Here!” said he, “I halt. I want to reconnoitre, to rally, to rest my army, and to organize Poland. The campaign of 1812 is over; that of 1813 will do the rest.” Ah! well for him would it have been, had he been content with the laurels that were heaped upon his head, and fallen back then to devote himself to the restoration of Poland. But his faith in his star had not yet been weakened, and on, on—he would press, till checked by obstacles which no human power could overcome.

THE CAMP-FIRE AT SMOLENSKO

Napoleon halted two weeks at Witepsk. He felt that if he could not find the Russian army, it was necessary to make a conquest that would end the campaign with substantial glory. Now, more than ever the idea of capturing the ancient Moscow entered his head, and he quickly decided to advance. Already full of the plan, which was to crown him with success, he ran to his maps. There he saw nothing but Smolensko and Moscow.

“At the sight of them,” says Hazlitt, “he appeared inflamed by the genius of war. His voice became harsh; his glance fiery, and his whole air stern and fierce. His attendants retired from his presence, through fear as well as respect; but at length his mind was fixed, his determination taken, and his line of march traced out. Immediately after, the tempest was calmed, and having given consistency and utterance to his great conceptions, his features resumed their wonted character of placidity and cheerfulness.” He did all in his power to gain over his officers to his purposes, and redoubled his attentions to his soldiers. The latter soon displayed a spirit of heroic devotion to his person.

The column of advance consisted of one hundred and eighty-five thousand men; not one half of the complement of the vast army which had entered Russia on the 23d of June.

It must be remembered that the great tract of country already passed was now occupied by his army, and necessarily expended a force, amounting perhaps to nearly eighty thousand men; but it is computed that in addition to this diminution of his army engaged in actual service, he had lost one-third of his original numbers by desertion, wounds, or death, either from fatigue or disease, or in the field of battle. Numbers of his hospital wagons, pontoons, and provision wagons, also, were far in the rear. Still, all these considerations gave way before his ardent desire to hurry the war to a termination, and the exertions he made at Witepsk were all with a view to an advance. Several actions, occurred between his generals and the different divisions of the Russian army during the period in which he held his head-quarters at Witepsk. Schwartzenberg conquered Tormazoff at Gorodeczna; Barclay retreated before Ney at Krasnoi; and Oudinot defeated Witgenstein near Polotsk, in a second combat,—the first in which they encountered was indecisive. It was at this moment that Napoleon received news of the conclusion of peace between Russia and Turkey, an event which much more than counterbalanced these successes.