His anxieties were many, not least how matters were going on in Spain, where he still had two hundred thousand men tied up. Every few days couriers from the Peninsula reached him with news, and it was rarely good. Now, on the eve of the most important battle of his career, Captain Favrier arrived, having ridden from central Spain in thirty two days. The despatch he brought reported that Marshal Marmont, one of Napoleon's oldest friends who, like Junot, had been with him at the siege of Toulon, had been seriously wounded, and that Soult had suffered a crushing defeat by Wellington at Salamanca.
When the Grand Army had crossed the Niemen, the odds against the Russians had been three to one in its favour. But ten weeks of campaigning had enormously reduced those odds. The Russians had been reinforced by General Miloradovitch's bringing up fifteen thousand men from the Danube, and Count Markov had reached the front with ten thousand militiamen. Napoleon, on the other hand, had received no reinforcements at all, and his losses in killed, wounded, by disease and starvation and in deserters had been at the least one hundred thousand men. Thus the odds now favoured him only by five to four.
On the morning of the battle, September 7th, when the two armies faced each other, the Grand Army numbered approximately one hundred and twenty-five thousand, and the Russians one hundred and four thousand.
The Russians had nearly six hundred and fifty guns and the Grand Army fewer than six hundred.
The battle opened by de Beauharnais attacking the Russian right. Soon afterwards Ney and Davout launched their massed infantry against the centre, while Poniatowski endeavoured to outflank the Russian left. The great redoubt was taken, retaken and taken again. For over ten hours the lines swayed back and forth, while two hundred thousand men were locked in conflict and unceasing carnage raged. Murat led his hordes of cavalry in charge after charge, only to have his temporary triumphs wrested from him by charge after charge of Platov's Cossacks.
All day the Emperor lay on a bearskin, only occasionally getting up to observe that part of the battle he could see through his spy glass. He gave no orders of importance, only nominating junior Generals to replace senior Generals when A.D.G.S galloped up to report that their commanders had been killed or grievously wounded. About him, covering acres of the grassy slope, sat or lay his grand reserve the twenty thousand men of the Imperial Guard.
Late in the afternoon Ney believed that if he received reinforcements he was in a position to break right through the Russian centre. He sent an urgent appeal to the Emperor, begging him to launch the Guard. Roger was standing nearby. He had had one horse shot under him and had the bridle of his second horse over his arm. He had been slightly wounded by a small fragment of cannon ball in the left shoulder, a bullet had carried away his hat and grazed his scalp. His face was blackened by powder and his coat had been ripped down the side by the lance of a Cossack. More than half his fellow A.D.Cs had been killed or laid low, and of the few remaining he was the next for duty. He strained his ears to catch Napoleon's reply, dreading that he would be dispatched back once more through the fog of blinding smoke stabbed by the flashes of bursting cannon shells, over the heaps of wounded and between the overturned guns and limbers, to carry to Ney the longed for message that the Guard was on its way.
The Emperor hesitated. Bessieres was beside him. Leaning forward, he said, 'Sire, we are eighteen hundred miles from Paris.' Feebly, Napoleon nodded. Ney's plea remained unanswered. The Guard sat on where they were, dozing, smoking their long pipes or playing cards.
As evening fell, the battle petered out, both armies having become utterly exhausted. The Russians still held most of their positions, what was left of the Grand Army withdrew. It had been the most bloody battle in history, and the carnage was almost incredible. The Russians had lost fifty eight thousand men and the Grand Army over fifty thousand, including fifty seven Generals. Over one hundred thousand troops lay dead or dying on the field, and the gallant General Prince Bagration was among the dead.
Both Napoleon and Kutuzov had intended to renew the battle on the following day; but the latter considered his losses to be so serious that he would not risk it, and withdrew his army during the night. Thus, although in fact the armies had fought each other to a standstill, the Emperor was able to claim a victory. As usual, in his bulletin he greatly increased the Russian losses and minimized his own. Next day, when walking over the battlefield, he remarked that there were five Russian dead for every one of his. The cynical Rapp said, in an aside to Roger, 'He is mistaking Germans and Poles for Russians.'
The number of the dead was so enormous that no attempt was made to bury them, but the still living were gradually collected and the overworked surgeons did what they could for them. In the next few days, by cannibalizing units, the Grand Army reassumed the appearance of a well organized, formidable force of approximately seventy-five thousand men. The advance was then continued and, on the 14th, the main body marched up the western slopes of the Mont du Salut. Spread out below was Russia's old capital, 'the Holy City'. It was a lovely day; the spires and domes of Moscow's three hundred and seventy churches glinted in the sunshine and had the appearance of an array of fairy palaces. The Emperor was still far from well, but greatly relieved to have Moscow in his grasp at last, as he felt certain that Alexander would now sue for peace.
Murat had been sent on ahead. Kutuzov had withdrawn his main force to Fili, but left General Miloradovitch behind with a strong rearguard. When Murat reached the gates of the city, a Russian officer came out to present what almost amounted to an ultimatum. Miloradovitch requested a temporary armistice while he evacuated Moscow, or he would fight to the last man defending it. Murat agreed his terms and then an extraordinary scene of fraternisation took place.
The Cossacks had never seen such a resplendent leader of cavalry as the King of Naples. He was wearing a green, fur trimmed jacket, pink riding breeches and bright yellow boots. His hat sprouted not only ostrich plumes but also a heron's feather aigret rising from a diamond clasp the size of a pigeon's egg. His belt and spurs were gold, and in his hand he carried a golden wand with which, instead of a sword, he directed his troops in battle. The hilt of his sabre was encrusted with jewels, and a dozen decorations blazed on his chest. While he gracefully cavorted on his splendid mount, the Cossacks cheered him to the echo, then danced the czardas for him.
In due course, the Emperor arrived before the gates. In his time he had accepted the surrender of a score of great cities. The Governor had come out with a depressed looking staff, surrendered his sword, offered the keys of the city on a velvet cushion and begged that mercy should be shown to the inhabitants. Naturally, Napoleon expected this ritual to be performed. Having fumed for a while at the rude Russians for keeping him waiting, he sent Murat in to find out why they delayed. Murat returned with the disconcerting news that the Governor, General Rostopchin had, even more rudely, ridden off with Miloradovitch and that the greater part of the population had gone with them.
Grumpily, Napoleon allowed himself to be installed in the Kremlin; but he was by no means depressed. He had remarked that a capital that is occupied by an enemy is like a woman who has been taken prisoner and is being dishonored. Surely Alexander would not submit to Moscow continuing to suffer such an indignity? Balashov would undoubtedly soon be turning up and this time be ready to accept practically any terms as the price of peace. It was now only a matter of waiting a week or so, then the Czar would have become as much of a puppet monarch as the King of Prussia. French garrisons would occupy all his principal fortresses and the Grand Army would march home in triumph.