On their first night out of Moscow, the miles long column bivouacked at the roadside and had an opportunity to try out such arrangements as they had made to secure for themselves as much comfort as possible. The Emperor sent Roger and his other A.D.Cs to ride some way along the road and see how the men were faring. In the neighborhood there were many woods of pine and larch, among which fuel could be collected, so the hundreds of bivouac fires blazed merrily, and the A.D.Cs were able to report that morale was good; also that nearly everywhere, in addition to the rations with which the troops had been issued, they had brought with them stocks of food of their own.
But early in the morning the news that the staff had feared came in. Strong Russian forces, possibly Kutuzov's main army, were advancing toward them, so the Emperor, being most averse to fighting a battle at that moment, sent orders to the head of the column that it should leave the road for Kalouga and turn off to Malo-Jaroslavitz. Nevertheless, many attacks by Cossacks had to be beaten off, and it was clear that they were not going to be allowed to continue their march in immunity.
Then, on the 25th, Kutuzov launched General Dokhiurov's division against the centre of the marching column as it was passing through Malo-Jaroslavitz. The French were taken by surprise and the action very nearly proved fatal to the Emperor. Early that morning he had ridden out, accompanied by some fifty officers, to make a personal reconnaissance. Suddenly a horde of Cossacks broke from a wood, yelling their war cry, 'Hourra! Hourra!', and came galloping toward the little cavalcade.
Napoleon had never lacked for courage. He drew his sword and his companions followed his example. Next moment the Cossacks were upon them. The French were outnumbered three to one. There ensued a wild melee. Several men on both sides were killed or wounded. Roger escaped being run through with a lance only by throwing himself violently sideways. As he did so, he slashed out with his sword and severed the Cossack's arm at the elbow. Rapp was less fortunate. A lance dealt him his twenty-third wound and he was thrown from his horse. The fight raged furiously; but only for a few minutes. The Hetman of the Cossacks sighted a convoy of wagons in the near distance. Having failed to recognize the Emperor and realise what a prize he was forgoing, he called his men off and led them toward the wagons, more eager for loot than slaughter. At that moment, having heard the shouts of the combatants, two squadrons of Chasseurs and a troop of the Cavalry of the Guard came charging up. They fell upon the Cossacks and routed them. But the battle was on. Dokhturov was attacking all along the line.
For several hours the units of the Grand Army in the area were in grave peril; then Eugene arrived with his Italians and was followed by Davout. By then Kutuzov had brought up his main forces and a general engagement took place. All day there was desperate fighting. The battle continued until long after dark, and it was not until close on midnight that the French succeeded in driving the Russians out of Malo-Jaroslavitz.
Frantic with anxiety, Roger went in search of Mary. At last he found her. She and young Greuze had taken refuge under their cart. Twice they had been charged over. Only one Russian had spotted and attempted to kill them; but Greuze had brought up his musket and shot him dead at close quarters.
The Emperor was now faced with a question of paramount importance. Should he renew the battle next day and gamble everything on succeeding in breaking through to Kalouga-or should he abandon that route and take another?
It was known that General Tchitchagov had now brought up his army from the lower Danube and this reinforcement made the Russians much superior in numbers. On the morning of the 26th, Bessieres went out on a reconnaissance. His report was pessimistic and decided the Emperor to retreat north on Mojaisk. The decision was fatal. It drove the last nail into the coffin of the Grand Army.
In taking it, Napoleon had supposed that, though he must abandon the advantage of marching through country that had not been scorched, he would be compensated by the depots of stores that he believed to have been established in every town and village through which the army had marched to Moscow. Throughout August, September and the first half of October, thousands of head of cattle, quintals of wheat and tons of flour had been dispatched from Poland. By this time they should have been available at intervals all along the road, in readiness to supply the army should it be forced to retreat. But many of the depots had never been filled, and many more were empty. Millions of pounds' worth of supplies had simply vanished.
In many cases they had been carried off by raiding Cossacks before they reached their destination; but there had been a far more serious drain upon them. During the advance, the Grand Army had left in its wake tens of thousands of wounded and deserters. The wounded had had to be fed, and the deserters were determined not to starve as long as their weapons could obtain for them food and liquor. As bands of them, had made their way toward Poland, they had attacked the depots and carried off their contents. The Grand Army, still eighty thousand strong, and making up for the casualties it sustained by being joined by the troops who had guarded the lines of communication, must now retrace its steps along the scorched earth swathe in which neither food nor fodder was to be found.
Until the last days of October, the weather remained sunny; but then the skies became overcast, a biting wind got up that swept across the plain and the first flurries of snow gave a warning of what was to come. At Mojaisk the head of the column debouched on to the road by which it had marched to Moscow, and turned west toward Poland. Forty miles further on, the army suffered the most terrible blow possible to its morale. It had to cross the battlefield of Borodino.
For miles round lay the evidence of the cost of the Emperor's insatiable ambition: the price that comrades had paid and that, at any time, each man of them might be called on himself to pay. In every direction, as far as the eye could see, the grassy slopes, furrowed by countless cannon balls, were dotted with thousands upon thousands of seven week old corpses of men and horses, and below the great redoubt lay a solid, tangled mass of them. Lacking legs, feet, arms or heads, with broken skulls or disemboweled, their shrunken lips drawn back in hideous grimaces, their eye sockets black, empty pits, clusters of white worms feeding on their rotting flesh, they lay there in the awesome stillness of death, beneath a dark and threatening sky.
Even the most hardened of the old 'moustaches' who had followed the young Napoleon in Italy and Egypt and later fought at Marengo, Wagram, Jena, Austerlitz, Eylau and Friedland, had never seen such appalling destruction: so many smashed guns, overturned limbers, shattered wagons, abandoned muskets, swords, lances and pistols, or bloated horses, the ground beneath them dyed red with their blood. And the unburied humans were not alone in silently demanding vengeance for the cutting short of their lives. The rains had washed away the soil from the shallow graves in which the minority had been hastily interred. Among the litter of cuirasses, helmets, dolmans, sabretaches, saddlebags, knapsacks and entrenching tools, from the earth there stuck up solitary protesting arms, odd legs and grinning skulls.
The Grand Army passed on its way with bowed heads, heart stricken, weeping and with many of the men vomiting. Soon afterwards the first snowflakes drifted down.
Death now began to stalk the endless, snake like column. Horses rather than men were the first to be stricken, because, while no fresh supplies were obtainable for either, there were very few wagons containing fodder and this small quantity was reserved for the mounts of the senior officers. Before leaving Moscow the troops had scoured the city and brought with them all the livestock they could lay hands on: pigs, goats, tame rabbits and crates of geese, ducks and chickens; but these had now all been killed, cooked and eaten. A daily ration continued to be issued to all the men, although it had become a meagre one; and those who carried private supplies of food were now jealously hoarding them, so everyone was hungry. In consequence, whenever a horse staggered and, its knees giving way under it, slumped to the ground, a score of the nearest men fell upon it. With knives and bayonets, they hacked away the flesh before the body could become frozen by the fierce cold, and caught in their pannikins every drop of blood.