As they set off again, he faced the fact that their future was now grimmer than ever. Over two hours had elapsed since the accident and, by this time, the Headquarters Staff was several miles ahead of them. Both their horses had lost so much flesh that their ribs could be plainly seen, and to force them into a pace which would enable them to catch up would almost certainly result in their dropping dead. It was a risk he dared not take; but it meant that they would no longer be able to draw their ration which, up to that time, had provided about half their frugal sustenance.
Alternately leading their horses and riding, two days later, on the 9th, after having been twenty-one days on the road, they at last reached Smolensk. To the immense relief of everyone, the news soon spread that there were plentiful stocks of food in the city. But the great multitude of shivering marchers, many of who were now suffering from frostbite, was so famished that the men would not wait for rations to be issued in an orderly manner.
The ravenous troops thrust aside the sentries who had been posted to guard the warehouses, broke down the doors and helped themselves to everything they could lay hands on. In this melee, great quantities of food were trampled underfoot and ruined. Much was also wasted as nourishment, owing to the shrunken stomachs of the men rejecting quantities such as they had been unused to for so long, so they sicked it up. Others gorged themselves to a point where they were racked with such frightful indigestion that they died from it.
The garrison in Smolensk was in good shape, as they had lived well on a number of the convoys coming up from Poland, instead of letting them go on to Moscow. They also made a valuable replacement of the casualties that had fallen on the way from the capital, greatly strengthening the Grand Army's fighting power to resist further attacks by the Russians. After a few days with ample food and liquor and the shelter of the many buildings in the big city that had not been totally burned out, the scarecrows bundled in rags who had staggered or limped into it became different men. The Headquarters Staff and the Guards were quartered in the better mansions that remained undamaged, the remainder of the polyglot horde cheerfully set about making half-ruined buildings into snow and wind proof snuggeries, in which to spend the winter.
Then the terrible blow fell. The awful news came in that Vitebsk had been captured by the Russians. The supply route from Poland had been cut. If they remained in Smolensk for more than a few weeks, every man Jack of them would starve to death.
24
The Grim Reaper Gives No Respite
Forced to take a new decision, the Emperor told his staff that he now intended that the army should winter in the undamaged towns behind the Dvina and Dnieper. With this in view, he sent Poniatowski's Poles and Junot's Westphalians ahead with the trophies, on the road to Krasnoi. On November 14th, with the Guard and all that remained of the cavalry, he followed in a carriage.
On reaching Smolensk, Roger had thankfully rejoined Napoleon's staff and, with Mary, had for a few days fed well. He had also succeeded in getting hold of enough oats for their horses to fill one pannier and, for themselves, half a side of frozen bacon. The other pannier held most of their remaining stores; the rest were distributed in their saddle bags, pistol holsters and pockets.
Apart from unceasing harassing of outposts by the Cossacks, the Russians had for some days ceased attacking, so the three corps with the Emperor got away from Smolensk with few casualties. But Prince Eugene was less fortunate. When crossing the little river Vop, his corps had already suffered severely at the hands of Miloradovitch and now, as they followed Napoleon toward Krasnoi, it was again ferociously attacked.
Although Eugene's mother had been divorced by Napoleon, he had remained unshakably loyal to his stepfather. As a boy of fifteen, the young General Bonaparte of those days had taken him on the first victorious campaign in Italy, and he had since had many years' experience in commanding troops. Unlike the Emperor's troublesome, treacherous and futile brothers, who were incapable both of waging war and ruling, Eugene, as Viceroy of Italy, had shown himself to be a most capable administrator and an able General. Apart from the Imperial Guard, his Italians rivalled the Saxon corps which had been trained by Bernadotte and had been largely responsible for the victory at Austerlitz as the best disciplined and most reliable troops in the Grand Army. Now in this present campaign Eugene was proving himself to be, with the exception of Davout and Ney, the equal of any of the Marshals.
By the afternoon of the day that Eugene left Smolensk, he realised that Miloradovitch's force was only the vanguard of the main Russian army, and that he was faced with impossible odds. Nevertheless he fought his way on. By the time he was half-way to Krasnoi, he had lost eight thousand of the twelve thousand men who had left Smolensk under him. To continue the battle for another day could only mean complete annihilation. He then decided to attempt to save the remainder of his men by resorting to a stratagem, although it meant risking being caught flank on to the enemy, which would prevent him from even making a last stand effectively.
In the night, leaving his camp fires burning, he led his troops by a circuitous route round the enemy. He was challenged by a Russian sentry. The next hour might have seen his force cut to pieces, but he was saved by the quick wits of his Polish orderly, who at once rapped out, in faultless Russian:
'Quiet, you fool.'
The sentry then took Eugene's corps for another body of his own countrymen moving up to the front for a night attack, and let them pass.
The Emperor had reached Krasnoi on the 15th, and waited there for the main body of his army to join him. He then learned of the Russian advance that threatened to cut the road from Smolensk and divide the Grand Army in half, which would enable Kutuzov to defeat first one part, then the other. Temporarily regaining his old initiative, he at once directed the three corps he had with him to return along the road to Smolensk, and set out to free the way for Eugene, Davout and Ney.
He met the remnants of Eugene's corps, which had escaped the previous night; but Davout was still a day's march away, Ney had only just left Smolensk and both were desperately defending themselves in a pitched battle against Kutuzov's main army, which had by then come up.
Despite his greatly inferior forces, Napoleon decided that he must gamble everything to save the two corps separated from him, and hurried forward to attack. But, fortunately for him, the old 'fox of the north' preferred to save his men and let the devastating cold continue to destroy his enemies; so, rather than sacrifice further troops against Davout's fierce resistance, he let him get away.
Napoleon was now in a quandary. He had been saved from a battle that might have ended in the complete destruction of the Grand Army, and Ney was many miles distant. He could be rescued only by again challenging Kutuzov's eighty thousand Russians and defeating them. With great reluctance the Emperor decided that discretion was the better part of valour. Leaving Ney to his fate, he retired on Krasnoi.
There he realised that his plan for wintering in the towns behind the Dwina and Dnieper was no longer feasible. It had been only another pipe dream. If the Grand Army was to be saved, a new plan had swiftly to be formed. His choice was to cross the Dnieper at Orcha join Schwarzenberg, by way of Minsk, and winter behind the Berezina.
During the campaign Ney had already surpassed himself, eclipsing even the brilliant feats of arms he had achieved in Austria, Prussia and during Massena's retreat from Portugal. For having stormed the Great Redoubt at Borodino, the Emperor had recently made him Prince of Moscow. On leaving Smolensk, his corps had been reduced by having to leave behind six thousand wounded. As his men had hurried out of one side of the city, the Cossacks had come galloping in at the other, and had since never ceased to savage his rear battalions. Now, cut off from any hope of help, with exhausted troops, no cavalry and very few guns, he was called on to face the greatest challenge of his career.