The Napoleonic Wars: Downfall (1809 - 1814)

In 1809, Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of the French, was at the height of his power. He had just won another crushing victory against Austria at Wagram, and imposed a humiliating peace treaty. But the war he’d started in Spain and Portugal, with his ill-judged invasion the previous year, continued to rage. Napoleon had placed his own brother Joseph on the Spanish throne – uniting a proud country against him. His troops had dealt ruthlessly with popular uprisings, while routing a succession of Spanish armies. In February 1809, Marshal Lannes overcame the heroic defence of Zaragoza, in a brutal siege that cost 54,000 Spanish lives and 10,000 French. But still… the Spanish and Portuguese remained defiant. And 3 months after their escape from Corunna, the British were back. In April, Sir Arthur Wellesley landed in Lisbon to lead a small Anglo-Portuguese army: British redcoats would fight alongside Portuguese troops, who, with the help of British training, would soon prove themselves highly effective. Three weeks after arriving in Portugal, Wellesley moved against Marshal Soult’s Second Corps, which had recently taken Porto. Soult and his troops, preoccupied with plundering the region, had no warning of the British advance, and were soon in headlong retreat, back through the mountains into Spain. Having secured Portugal, for the time being, Wellesley planned a joint campaign with General Cuesta, commanding the Spanish Army of Extremadura. On 10th July, the two commanders met at Casas de Miravete to discuss strategy. Relations between these two allies were not straightforward. Britain and Spain had a long history of conflict: The Spanish were deeply suspicious of British intentions in Spain, while the British had a low opinion of the Spanish army, which they considered poorly trained, and badly led. Wellesley’s request to take over command of Spanish forces was rejected. But the generals agreed to a joint advance up the Tagus valley towards Madrid, to be supported by General Venegas, advancing from La Mancha. In the face of their advance, Marshal Victor’s First Corps withdrew to Talavera, where he was joined by King Joseph and General Sebastiani’s Fourth Corps. The French plan was for Joseph’s army to defend Madrid, while Marshal Soult led three corps down from the north, to get behind and trap the Anglo-Spanish forces. But Joseph, worried by Soult’s slow progress, and General Venegas’ advance on Madrid, decided to attack at Talavera. The Battle of Talavera saw British infantry bear the brunt of the French assault: they stood firm, and repelled the enemy with disciplined musket-fire and bayonet charges. Talavera was a small battle compared to the great clashes fought that year in Austria. But it proved that under Wellesley, Britain’s small, well-drilled army was a force to be reckoned with… even though in the short term, victory achieved little. Warned of Soult’s approach from captured despatches, the victorious Anglo-Spanish army… retreated. … while King Joseph and Fourth Corps marched against Venegas’ army, which they smashed at the Battle of Almonacid. That autumn the Supreme Junta in Seville, free Spain’s effective government, raised two new armies for another attempt to liberate Madrid, planning to converge on the capital from north and south. But Wellesley, ennobled as Viscount Wellington for his victory at Talavera, had been so disgusted by the lack of Spanish co-operation that summer, that he refused to risk his army. Predictably, Spain’s inexperienced armies met with disaster: at Ocaña, they suffered their biggest defeat of the war, when a smaller force under Marshal Soult routed the Spanish army, taking 14,000 prisoners and 50 cannon. A week later, the Army of the Left was heavily defeated at Alba de Tormes. There was more bad news when Girona fell to the French, after an epic 7 month siege. The Supreme Junta’s plans to retake Madrid were in tatters... And Southern Spain was now wide open to French attack. In January 1810, King Joseph marched south with an army of 60,000 men. In the face of his advance, Spanish resistance... evaporated. Spain’s Supreme Junta was overthrown in a coup, as Cordoba and Seville fell without a fight. Joseph, who still hoped to win over the Spanish with his progressive reforms, was welcomed by many as a saviour from anarchy. Only Cadiz held out - its defences reinforced by a British naval squadron - and was besieged by Victor’s First Corps. Meanwhile Napoleon sent Marshal Masséna to Spain with 65,000 reinforcements. He was reckoned one of Napoleon’s best marshals, and had just been made ‘Prince of Essling’ for his heroics in the recent war against Austria. Masséna was to lead a third French invasion of Portugal, take Lisbon, and chase the British back into the sea. He laid siege to Ciudad Rodrigo, a fortified city controlling one of the main routes into Portugal, which surrendered after two weeks’ bombardment. Wellington, with only 33,000 men to face Masséna’s 50,000, retreated. Masséna crossed the Portuguese frontier, and besieged Almeida. After just 13 hours of bombardment, a lucky French shot hit the Portuguese magazine… 70 tons of gunpowder went up in a devastating explosion, that made all further resistance useless. It was a serious blow to Wellington, who’d been relying on Almeida’s strong defences to buy him time. At Buçaco, he found a strong defensive position and made a stand. Masséna’s uphill, frontal attack failed at a cost of 4,000 casualties. But the next day, the French found a way to outflank Wellington’s position, and his retreat continued. As Masséna’s army neared Lisbon, his scouts reported something completely unexpected: Stretching across the Lisbon peninsula, protecting the city from attack, they found a new chain of fortifications, in two major lines. Known as the Lines of Torres Vedras, the British and Portuguese had been constructing these defences for more than a year. Now the Lines bristled with more than a hundred forts, redoubts and batteries, manned by 30,000 troops and 250 guns. Masséna soon discovered the Lines were far too strong for him to attack. What’s more, a ‘scorched earth’ strategy had stripped the surrounding countryside of anything that might help the French… While Portuguese partisans attacked French supply columns, as they struggled through the mountains to reach Masséna’s army. Masséna faced a grim predicament: starved of supplies, too weak to attack… unwilling to retreat. But throughout this stand-off, it was Portuguese peasants who suffered most of all. When their villages and farms were burned, many took refuge in Lisbon, where thousands died of starvation and disease. Back in France, Napoleon had been preoccupied with his divorce from the Empress Josephine… and then a new marriage Archduchess Marie Louise, daughter of the Emperor of Austria. She was now expecting their first child. Nevertheless, from Paris, Napoleon sent frequent orders to his Marshals in Spain and Portugal, urging them to take more aggressive action. But when these orders arrived, weeks later, they were usually out of date, and showed little understanding of the problems his Marshals faced. He now ordered Soult, based in Andalucia, to go on the offensive, to draw enemy forces away from Lisbon, so Masséna could take the city. Soult laid siege to Badajoz, a fortified city that controlled the southern route into Portugal. When 12,000 men of the Army of Extremadura marched to its relief, they were routed by Soult… after which the city tamely surrendered, giving up 8,000 prisoners and vast quantities of stores. It was another heavy blow to Spain’s armed forces. But remarkably, despite such disasters, and their many blundering generals, Spanish troops remained willing to fight, the courage of the rank-and-file undimmed. Victor’s First Corps, besieging Cadiz, had now been so weakened to support other operations, that the Anglo-Spanish garrison decided to attack. The allies landed along the coast, to strike at the French siege lines from the rear. But they were ambushed by the French at Barossa. Despite heavy losses, the Anglo-Portuguese rearguard fought off the enemy - but a furious falling out between British commander Sir Thomas Graham, and his Spanish counterpart General La Peña, threw away any advantage. Soult, alarmed at these developments, marched back to Andalucia. Meanwhile Masséna, out of food and with no prospect of reinforcement, had no option but to retreat. Wellington’s army pursued, discovering evidence of several appalling atrocities, committed by the French against Portuguese villagers. There were running battles with the French rearguard, brilliantly commanded by Marshal Ney, until he was sacked by Masséna for criticising his leadership. Having chased the French out of Portugal, Wellington besieged Almeida. Masséna’s army, now rested and reinforced, marched to its aid. The two armies clashed again at Fuentes de Oñoro. In two days of heavy fighting, Masséna failed to break through Wellington’s position to relieve Almeida. The fortress fell the next week, but to Wellington’s fury, British bungling allowed most of the French garrison to escape. Masséna had lost 25,000 men in Portugal. Now he’d lost Almeida too. And a string of bad decisions, not least to bring his mistress with him on campaign, had cost him the respect of his officers. The Marshal, whom Napoleon had once nicknamed ‘the dear Child of Victory’, was recalled to France in disgrace, never to hold senior command again. Napoleon sent Marshal Marmont to replace him. Meanwhile Marshal Beresford, the British commander of Portugal’s army, was sent to retake Badajoz with 20,000 British and Portuguese troops. When Soult approached with a relief force, Beresford marched to meet him at Albuera: it was one of the bloodiest battles of the war – around 6,000 casualties on each side, with more than a third of the British infantry killed, wounded or captured. Marshal Soult declared, "There is no beating these troops, in spite of their generals. I always thought they were bad soldiers, now I am sure of it. I had turned their right, pierced their centre and everywhere victory was mine – but they did not know how to run!" Soult had been checked, but he was determined to save Badajoz. The newly-arrived Marshal Marmont marched to his aid, and they advanced again. This combined army forced the British to abandon the siege - But when Wellington withdrew to a strong defensive position across the Portuguese border, Soult and Marmont did not pursue. French commanders in Spain had learned grudging respect for Wellington, and for the steadiness of his troops. For now, the war in Spain had entered stalemate. While British, French and Spanish armies criss-crossed Spain and Portugal, another war was fought every day in the mountains, hills and woods. From 1808 Spanish and Portuguese civilians, militias and ex-soldiers began taking up arms against the hated French invader. They waged a war of ambushes and hit-and-run raids, known in Spanish as la guerrilla - ‘the little war’. Its fighters became known, in English, as guerrillas. Britain’s Royal Navy supplied vital weapons, stores and money, often landing them behind enemy lines. Much of Spain’s rugged countryside fell under the control of the guerrillas: North of Madrid, Juan Martín Diez, an ex-soldier known as El Empecinado, ‘the Stubborn’, led a guerrilla band 6,000 strong. In Navarre, Espoz y Mina, a former peasant, ran a highly organised band that caused havoc for the French, capturing convoys and couriers on the strategic Burgos-Bayonne road, and branding ‘Viva Mina’ on the forehead of collaborators. While in the west Julian Sanchez, known as El Charro, led the self-styled ‘Lanceros de Castilla’. El Charro himself wore a French hussar’s cap, its eagle symbolically turned upside down. There were dozens more bands operating across Spain – though a few were no better than bandits, terrorising civilians as often as the enemy. The guerrilla war was merciless, marked by hideous atrocities on both sides. A French soldier’s greatest fear was to be taken alive by the guerrillas, who often tortured their prisoners before killing them. Tens of thousands of French troops were tied down by this ‘people’s war’ – guarding outposts, or patrolling the countryside. The roads were so dangerous for French messengers that they required cavalry escorts of 200 men or more. Many still didn’t get through - their valuable despatches forwarded to Wellington, for whom they became an invaluable source of intelligence. The war in Spain would ultimately cost the lives of 260,000 French soldiers: As was typical in wars of this era, the great majority – 3 out of 4 - died from disease. The twin threats faced by the French in Spain - a well-led, regular army under Wellington, alongside a popular insurgency, left them with an impossible strategic dilemma: If their armies remained dispersed, to fight the guerrillas – Wellington could attack. But if they concentrated to defeat Wellington in battle – huge swathes of the country would quickly fall to the guerrillas. This was ‘Napoleon’s Vietnam’ - or his ‘bleeding ulcer’ as he called it – a war that cost his empire an average of 100 casualties every day, with little prospect of victory. And in 1812, as Napoleon launched his gigantic invasion of Russia, Wellington and the guerrillas launched their own offensive... that would turn the war in Spain on its head. By 1812, Napoleon’s French Empire had a quarter of a million troops stationed in Spain, bogged down in a war that seemed to have no end. They faced a bitter struggle against the people of Spain, who’d taken up arms in a guerrilla war… as well as the remnants of Spain’s field armies… and an Anglo-Portuguese army under Lord Wellington. But French forces in Spain remained formidable, and in firm control of the capital Madrid and most major cities. And the year began with another great French victory, in the south… and a calamity for Spain. Spain and Portugal would become a graveyard not just for young French conscripts… but for the reputation of some of France’s most famous generals. General Junot… Marshal Soult… and Marshal Jourdan had all tasted defeat. Marshal Masséna had been recalled in disgrace. Marshal Louis-Gabriel Suchet was the exception. French generals in Spain were notorious for their looting. Soult, based in Andalucia, was probably the worst, reckoned to have stolen one and half million francs’ worth of art from Spanish monasteries and churches. As Governor of Aragon, Marshal Suchet behaved very differently. He enforced strict discipline on his troops, punishing any who tried to steal or extort money from the Spanish, while treating local authorities with respect. He combined this hearts and minds strategy with ruthless military action against the guerrillas… and was able to establish firm control of Aragon. In June 1811, after a particularly bloody assault, Suchet took the port of Tarragona, for which Napoleon rewarded him with his Marshal’s baton. The Emperor then sent him reinforcements, and ordered him to take Valencia. First he routed a much larger Spanish army that attacked him at Saguntum, before he laid siege to Valencia. The city was packed with Spanish troops and refugees, and to avoid starvation, General Blake surrendered Valencia on 8th January 1812. The French took 18,000 prisoners, including 23 generals, and nearly 500 guns. It was a devastating blow to the Spanish cause. But to reinforce Suchet, Napoleon had stripped troops from other armies in Spain… and then withdrawn 25,000 of the best troops for his imminent invasion of Russia. The result was that French forces in Spain were now severely overstretched… just as Wellington prepared to strike. Spanish guerrillas kept Wellington well-informed of French movements, and learning that the forces facing him in western Spain had been much weakened, he decided to go on the offensive, to strike a blow before the French could concentrate against him. On the day that Valencia fell, he laid siege to Ciudad Rodrigo, on the Portuguese-Spanish frontier. Eager to take the city before Marshal Marmont could march to its relief, he ordered an assault after just 10 days. It succeeded, though Major General Craufurd of the Light Division was among 300 killed. Wellington then marched south, to besiege the much more strongly defended city of Badajoz. An assault was made on the night of 6th April. The first wave attacking the main breach were slaughtered… but what was supposed to be a diversionary attack on the city’s castle with scaling ladders… succeeded, and the city soon fell. The storming of Badajoz cost the British 3,700 casualties. In the aftermath, survivors went on the rampage: drinking, looting, and raping, and killing more than 100 Spanish civilians… before British officers finally restored order. Wellington had secured the two main routes between Spain and Portugal. Now he sent his most reliable subordinate, General Hill, with a small Anglo-Portuguese force to destroy the bridge over the Tagus at Almaraz. This was a vital link between Marmont’s Army of Portugal and Soult’s Army of the South, as the next usable bridge was at Toledo, 90 miles east. The bridge was well guarded by forts and redoubts, but Hill led a swift and daring assault. The French defences were taken by surprise, the bridge itself and all the engineering equipment burned, for the cost of just 177 casualties. Wellington was now ready to begin his advance into Spain. Spanish regular forces and guerrilla bands began operations to tie down as many French troops as possible... While from the Bay of Biscay, Sir Home Popham’s naval raiding force made diversionary attacks on French coastal targets. In four days, Wellington was at Salamanca, as Marmont, outnumbered, withdrew behind the Douro River. But when reinforcements arrived, he crossed the river again. For six days Marmont tried to march around Wellington’s flank, but the British general matched him move for move, their two armies marching in parallel, often within sight of each other. But on the seventh day, Marmont blundered. On the morning of 22nd July, Wellington’s army occupied high ground four miles south of Salamanca. Marmont was not interested in a direct assault – he still sought to outflank Wellington, threaten his line of retreat to Portugal, and force him to fall back. Around 8am, the French won a dash for a hill known as the Greater Arapil, which Marmont made his observation point. The French army began to swing round behind him. Marmont had convinced himself that Wellington was an overly cautious general, who would not risk attack. The hills hid most of Wellington’s army from view… And when Marmont saw dust clouds to the west, he assumed it was Wellington’s baggage train leaving Salamanca, beginning their retreat. But it was the British 3rd Division and a Portuguese cavalry brigade, moving up to strengthen Wellington’s flank… Because he wasn’t planning a retreat… he was about to attack. Around 2pm, Marmont ordered the five infantry divisions waiting in the woods behind him to march west… to cut off Wellington’s imagined retreat. General Maucune’s 5th Division, in the lead, stopped to engage what was presumed to be the British rearguard, in the village of Los Arapiles. General Thomières’ 7th Division continued west, past it. Wellington watched as the French left flank became increasingly strung out, and knew it was an opportunity too good to miss. He galloped three miles across country to the 3rd Division, to give the crucial orders in person. Many of his staff officers struggled to keep up. On arrival, he instructed the division’s commander, his own brother-in-law Edward Pakenham, to attack ‘and drive everything before him.’ 3rd Division’s advance was hidden by low hills until the last minute. Thomières’ division was caught completely unawares, and shattered by the assault. Thomières himself was killed, half his division killed or captured, the rest soon put to flight. At this crucial moment, Marshal Marmont was hit by a British shell, and carried from the field seriously wounded. His second-in-command, General Bonnet, was himself wounded an hour later, so command passed to General Clauzel. 45 minutes later the British 5th Division attacked, supported by two Portuguese brigades, and General Le Marchant’s dragoons. The French saw the cavalry coming and formed square, but were hit first by the British infantry, who unleashed a close-range volley then charged with the bayonet. The French were routed and charged down by Le Marchant’s cavalry. French 6th Division was caught up in the collapse. Le Marchant himself was shot from the saddle, but his brigade had helped destroy eight French battalions and capture two eagles. Wellington’s echelon attack continued, as Cole’s 4th Division advanced in the centre. But Pack’s Portuguese brigade was thrown back from the Greater Arapil, and the whole division was soon falling back in disorder. Despite the devastation of his army’s left flank, General Clauzel decided to launch an attack on the Lesser Arapil, the hinge of Wellington’s position. If it could be taken, he might still snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. But the French advance was met by fresh troops of Clinton’s 6th Division, who poured volleys of musket fire into the French columns. They began to fall back. The French army had lost the will to fight on, its soldiers streaming away into the woods behind them. General Ferrey’s 3rd Division mounted a brave rearguard action, to buy the rest of the army time to escape. But it faced a hopeless task. It was soon outflanked by the British 5th Division, and Ferrey himself was killed. Only General Foy’s 1st Division escaped in good order. With darkness falling, and his army exhausted, Wellington called off the pursuit. Wellington had smashed Marmont’s army, taking 7,000 prisoners and killing or wounding 6,000 more – a French casualty rate of 25%.... and more than double Wellington’s own losses. The next day, dragoons of the King’s German Legion attacked the French rearguard… and achieved the almost unheard-of feat of charging down a French infantry square, and taking another thousand prisoners. Wellington now decided to march on Madrid, forcing King Joseph to abandon the capital, and retreat to Valencia to join up with Marshal Suchet. On 12th August Wellington liberated the city, to scenes of wild celebration. Soult, now at risk of being cut off in Andalucía, abandoned the siege of Cadiz, which had dragged on for two and a half years… and marched east to join Joseph and Suchet. The following month, Wellington marched north, pushing the French back from Valladolid, and besieging the castle of Burgos. But his army lacked heavy guns, and the French garrison fought bravely. As powerful French armies gathered to the north… and south… Wellington himself was now in danger of being trapped. He had no choice but to withdraw. Wellington’s retreat turned into a desperate forced march through autumn rain. The supply system collapsed, and many starving soldiers looted what food they could find from Spanish villages. Madrid was abandoned, and re-occupied by the French on 1st November. Wellington was back where he’d started five months before. But despite the campaign’s dismal conclusion, his strike into Spain had led to the liberation of huge swathes of the country, and left the French more overstretched than ever. Reinforced and resupplied, Wellington would be back the next year, to deliver the final blow to Joseph’s Spanish kingdom. 1812 had seen the tide of war turn. And not just in Spain… Because 2,000 miles to the east, in Russia, catastrophe had engulfed La Grande Armée... In 1807, following his defeat of the Russian army at Friedland, Napoleon had travelled to Tilsit to meet the Russian Emperor, Alexander. During their celebrated encounter, the two emperors formed a friendship, and made an alliance. But it was not to last… Over the next five years, relations between France and Russia cooled dramatically. The Russians were irritated by Napoleon’s creation of a ‘Duchy of Warsaw’ in Poland, which they regarded as meddling in their own front yard. They feared it would lead to the return of a fully-fledged Polish state – a traditional thorn in Russia’s side. Then there was Napoleon’s offer to marry Alexander’s sister, Grand Duchess Anna Pavlovna, to cement their alliance. But the Romanovs hated the idea, and after a year of Russian prevarication, Napoleon married Marie Louise, daughter of the Austrian Emperor, instead. Later that year, Napoleon broke a guarantee made at Tilsit, and annexed the Duchy of Oldenburg, ruled by Alexander’s sister’s father-in-law. Worst of all, was the fallout over ‘the Continental System’, Napoleon’s not very effective economic blockade against Britain, designed to cripple his most steadfast enemy. Alexander had agreed to join the Continental System at Tilsit, but it was hugely unpopular in Russia, and ruinous to her finances during a period of economic crisis. When Napoleon found out that Russia was flouting the rules of the System, and had resumed an illicit trade with Britain, he was furious. With both emperors accusing the other of bad faith, their two countries began preparing for war. Napoleon knew an invasion of Russia was a massive undertaking – especially as he still had an unfinished war in Spain, that was tying down more than 200,000 troops. Nevertheless in 1811 he began to assemble the largest army Europe had ever seen… Around 600,000 men… though less than half of them were French. The rest came from allied states across Europe. There was a Polish corps from the Dutchy of Warsaw, led by Prince Poniatowksi, a corps from each of the German Kingdoms of Saxony, Westphalia and Bavaria, from the Kingdom of Italy, as well as Swiss, Dutch, Croat, Spanish and Portuguese units scattered throughout the army. There were even contingents from Prussia and Austria – France’s recent enemies, now uneasy allies. Some of these allied troops, such as the Poles and Germans, were as reliable as their French counterparts. Others were very inexperienced, or like the Prussians and Austrians – reluctant to be there at all. This gigantic formation was deployed in three armies, the main force under Napoleon himself, another led by his stepson Eugène, Viceroy of Italy, and a third led by his younger brother Jérôme, King of Westphalia. Neither of these two were experienced commanders, though one would distinguish himself on campaign… the other would not. On their left flank Marshal Macdonald led Tenth Corps, with a large Prussian contingent… While the right flank was guarded by General Schwarzenberg’s Austrian Corps. Another 100,000 troops were in reserve, including Marshal Victor’s Ninth Corps. Initially the Russians only had 220,000 men to face this juggernaut, organised into Barclay de Tolly’s First Army; Prince Bagration’s Second Army; and General Tormasov’s Third Army. They would be outnumbered two-to-one. But in the run-up to war, Russia scored two crucial diplomatic triumphs: Sweden had been at war with Russia just three years earlier, a conflict which cost her Finland. By a curious turn of events, Sweden was now ruled by Napoleon’s ex-marshal, Bernadotte. But after Napoleon occupied Swedish Pomerania without warning, a furious Bernadotte promised Russia that Sweden would remain neutral. Meanwhile a peace treaty with the Ottoman Empire ended Russia’s six-year war against its southern rival. These two agreements secured Russia’s flanks from any strategic threat, and freed up troops to face Napoleon’s invasion. On 24th June 1812, French troops began crossing the Niemen River into Russian territory. The army was so large, the crossing took five days. Napoleon’s plan was to attack north of the impassable Pripet Marshes, and defeat Barclay’s army, while Jérôme pinned Bagration in place. French forces would then swing south to trap Bagration. Napoleon expected the campaign to be over in five weeks. But the sheer size of the French army convinced the cautious Barclay that retreat was his only option. Prince Bagration, a much more aggressive commander by instinct, and often Barclay’s fierce critic, was forced to agree. As they withdrew they burned villages and crops - part of a scorched earth strategy to deny supplies to the enemy. In four days Napoleon had reached Vilnius, but Barclay was gone. To the south, Jérôme failed to pin down Bagration, so when Davout’s First Corps swung southeast to trap him, he’d already withdrawn to safety. Napoleon’s younger brother was out of his depth. Stung by the Emperor’s criticism, humiliated when his troops were put under Marshal Davout’s command, he resigned his post and returned to Westphalia. The campaign was already beginning to expose serious flaws in Napoleon’s plan. Knowing his troops would struggle to live off the land in this impoverished region, he’d organised huge supply depots and transport units to feed the army. But wagons rolled slowly along Russia’s bad roads, which were turned to rivers of mud by summer thunderstorms. The army had to make frequent stops to allow its supplies to catch up – bad news for Napoleon’s plan to catch the Russians, but a much-needed relief for the many thousands of young conscripts in his army, not used to hard marches day after day. Many were soon dropping out with exhaustion; others deserted. There were also huge problems of command and control, over a vast, multi-national army that was three times bigger than any Napoleon had commanded before. La Grande Armée, once famed for its speed of manoeuvre, had become a lumbering beast. After a pause to rest and regroup at Vilnius, Napoleon resumed his advance. Barclay continued his retreat to Vitebsk, where he hoped Bagration’s Second Army would be able to join him. But Davout blocked Bagration’s path at Saltanovka, forcing him to make for Smolensk instead. At Vitebsk, Napoleon clashed with Barclay’s rearguard, but once more the Russians escaped, after setting fire to all the stores they couldn’t take with them. Meanwhile, 300 miles away, on Napoleon’s southern flank, Russian Third Army attacked and defeated the Saxon Seventh Corps, forcing Napoleon to divert Schwarzenberg’s Austrian corps to their aid. By the end of July, Napoleon had advanced 250 miles into Russia – much further than he’d planned. And the long marches in extreme, summer heat continued to take a heavy toll on his men. Without fighting a major battle, the army had already suffered 20% casualties - from exhaustion and illness, particularly typhus and dysentery. The army had entered Russia with quarter of a million horses, but they were now dying at a rate of a thousand every day, from exhaustion and lack of fodder. It wasn’t just cavalry horses that were dying, but the very horses that were supposed to haul the army’s transport wagons, making a bad situation worse. This crisis in horsepower came just as the French light cavalry, Napoleon’s eyes and ears, met their match… in Russia’s Cossacks. Cossacks – self-reliant, proud, ruthless, and superb horseman - didn’t play by the same rules as other European cavalry. Every day they shadowed Napoleon’s army, swooping in whenever they saw an easy target, but melting away into the forests if they were attacked by a stronger force. Cossacks, as well as Russian partisans, made hit and run attacks on French supply lines and depots, forcing Napoleon to divert thousands of troops to their defence. Alongside Russian regular light cavalry, they also prevented French patrols from carrying out reconnaissance, which meant that Napoleon often lacked good information about roads, or the enemy’s whereabouts. Napoleon stayed 16 days at Vitebsk, resting his troops and considering his options. Among his many mounting concerns was the security of his long, exposed flanks. But at Vitebsk he received news that Schwarzenberg had defeated the Russians at Gorodeczna… A week later at Polotsk, a French-Bavarian force fought Wittgenstein’s Russian First Corps to a standstill. Napoleon’s flanks were secure, for now. Although his main force had been reduced to less than half its original strength, Napoleon decided to push on to Smolensk, and try to force the Russians into a decisive battle for the city. Barclay was indeed under pressure to give battle, from fellow commander Prince Bagration and Emperor Alexander in St.Petersburg: the army’s morale and Russia’s honour required it, they told him. With the First and Second Russian Armies finally linking up near Smolensk, Barclay decided to attack Napoleon’s army, which he believed was concentrated around Rudnya. The offensive was led by General Platov’s Cossacks, who surprised a French cavalry division at Inkovo. But alarmed by false reports that Eugène’s Fourth Corps was outflanking him to the north, Barclay called off the attack. Napoleon, reassured that Barclay’s offensive posed no real threat, began a grand outflanking move to the south, to take Smolensk and cut off the Russian retreat. The so-called ‘Smolensk Manoeuvre’ was Napoleon at his best. Using Murat’s cavalry to screen his movements and keep Barclay in the dark, the Emperor reached the Dnieper on the evening of 13th August. His engineers quickly threw up four pontoon bridges, and by dawn the next day, his army was across. Marshal Davout led a second column across the river at Orsha. But a single Russian division, the 27th , fought a heroic fighting retreat from Krasny, delaying the French advance… and buying time for Bagration to reinforce the Smolensk garrison. The chance for a surprise assault on the city was lost. And as the Russian army began to pull back, Napoleon displayed an uncharacteristic lack of urgency, even halting the army for a parade to mark his 43rd birthday. When the main attack on Smolensk began two days later, Napoleon opted for a frontal assault. 150 French guns battered the city, as three French corps attacked its medieval fortifications. The Russians resisted bravely. But Barclay, fearing encirclement, ordered another retreat. With Smolensk in flames, the Russians began to pull out… just as the French fought their way into the city, to scenes of utter devastation. Bagration’s Second Army withdrew first… As Barclay’s army followed, its rearguard was caught by Ney’s Third Corps at Valutino… General Junot, commanding the Westphalian Eighth Corps, had orders to cut off Barclay’s retreat - but having crossed the river, he did nothing, and the opportunity was lost. A furious Napoleon swore that Junot would never now win his Marshal’s baton. The Battle of Smolensk cost both sides around 10,000 casualties, and destroyed one of Russia’s most historic and holy cities – but settled nothing. After the missed chance to defeat the Russians at Smolensk, Napoleon paused once more to consider his options. His men were weary and far from home, and it was already late in the campaigning season. He considered sitting out the Russian winter at Smolensk, and resuming the campaign in 1813. But now he was just 230 miles from Moscow. A century earlier, Peter the Great had moved Russia’s capital to St.Petersburg, but Moscow remained its historic and spiritual heart – a prize for which the Russians had to fight. Napoleon, always a gambler, decided to push on. The Russians faced their own dilemma. Emperor Alexander had experienced a kind of religious epiphany that summer, and rallied the Russian people to the country’s defence, describing the war with Napoleon as a war to save Holy Mother Russia from the Antichrist. For months the Emperor had received conflicting advice – to stand and fight, or retreat. Now he decided change was needed. The cautious General Barclay kept his job, but the Emperor summoned General Mikhail Kutuzov to take overall command of Russia’s armies. Kutuzov had been beaten by Napoleon at Austerlitz seven years before, but he’d since won several victories against the Ottoman Empire, and was a ‘true Russian’, loved by the troops. Although Kutuzov agreed with Barclay’s strategy of delay, he saw that constant retreats were destroying the soldiers’ and the nation’s morale. If Moscow was given up without a battle, the fallout could be disastrous. And so, 70 miles west of the city, near the village of Borodino, the Russian army prepared to make a stand. Europe was about to witness the bloodiest day’s fighting of the Napoleonic Wars. September 1812. 10 weeks had passed since Napoleon invaded Russia with more than half a million men. The French Emperor wanted a quick victory over the Russians, one that would force Emperor Alexander to make peace, and agree to French terms. But at Vitebsk, and then Smolensk, the outnumbered Russian army had narrowly escaped his clutches. The holy city of Smolensk had been virtually destroyed. Napoleon had advanced deep into Russia, and months of marching had left his army decimated by disease and exhaustion. It was now half its original strength, and summer was nearly over. But finally, 70 miles west of Moscow, near the village of Borodino, the Russians had turned to offer battle. Napoleon would have a chance to win the decisive victory, that he believed would end the war. The Russian army, commanded by the 67-year-old, one-eyed veteran General Kutuzov, occupied a defensive position across the two main roads leading from Smolensk to Moscow. General Barclay de Tolly’s First Army was on the right, its front protected by the Kalatsha River, steep-banked but shallow and easily forded. Prince Bagration’s Second Army was on the left, a more open position, but reinforced by major earthworks – the Great Redoubt, and what the French nicknamed, for their shape, the Flèches – the arrows. Another forward redoubt at Shevardino was expected to delay the enemy’s advance. Historians still dispute the size of the Russian army, but it’s likely Kutuzov had around 121,000 men and 680 guns at Borodino. On 5th September, Napoleon’s army began to arrive from the west: around 130,000 men, and 585 guns. Napoleon quickly saw that the Shevardino Redoubt would have to be taken before he could deploy his army, and ordered an immediate assault. The attack was led by Compans’ 5th Division of the First Corps, supported by the Polish Fifth Corps to the south. In several hours of heavy fighting, the redoubt changed hands more than once. But late that evening the Russians finally withdrew to their main line, and the redoubt fell to the French. Its capture had cost them an estimated 4,000 casualties, while the Russians lost around 6,000 men. Napoleon noted how few prisoners were taken – a worrying sign of the enemy’s unbroken resolve. Both sides spent the next day preparing for battle. Marshal Davout, commanding French First Corps, and widely considered Napoleon’s most able subordinate, appealed to the Emperor to use his Corps to make a wide, outflanking attack to the south… But Napoleon dismissed the idea as too risky, and instead began preparing for a massive frontal assault on the Russian defences. Shortly after dawn on 7th September, Orthodox priests paraded one of Russia’s holiest icons, Our Lady of Smolensk, before the Russian army. It was a stirring sight for many devout, Russian soldiers, thousands of whom would not live to see dusk. The battle began at 6 am, as French batteries opened a deafening cannonade against the Russian defences. Eugène’s Fourth Corps advanced on Borodino village, lightly held by Jaegers of the Russian Imperial Guard. After clearing the village, his infantry crossed the Kalatsha and advanced towards the Great Redoubt, but were driven back with heavy losses. The Russians burned the bridge across the river, but did not launch a counterattack, and Eugene was able to move cannon into the village, to put flanking fire on the Great Redoubt. In the centre, Davout’s First Corps began its advance against the Flèches, coming under heavy fire… While on the right, the Polish Fifth Corps, ordered to take Utitsa, got held up in the woods and ravines… Their slow advance allowed Tuchkov’s Third Corps to send a division north to reinforce the Fléches defences. Kutuzov, at his headquarters in Gorki, took little part in the battle, leaving tactical decisions to his subordinates. Barclay.. and Bagration.. had spent most of the summer arguing furiously over strategy, but in the hour of crisis, they put their differences aside. They could see the main French attack was falling on the Russian centre and left… so Barclay ordered General Baggovut’s Second Corps south to reinforce Bagration. Fighting around the Flèches intensified, as the French captured one of the earthworks, only to be driven out by a Russian counterattack. Davout himself was injured in the fighting as he fell from his dying horse, but he refused to leave the field. When Russian cavalry counterattacked, Marshal Murat himself led the French cavalry forward to meet them. Ney’s Third Corps now joined the attack on the Flèches. A charge by Russian cuirassiers forced Murat to take shelter in a square of Württemberg infantry. Murat, with his flamboyant dress and reckless courage, had now even made a name for himself among the Russians – the Cossacks in particular saw him as a kindred spirit, and were eager to capture him alive if they could. To the south, Polish troops now took Utitsa, which the Russians set ablaze before withdrawing. But General Baggovut’s reinforcements arrived just in time to shore up the Russian flank. Around 10am, Eugène launched another attack on the Great Redoubt. It was briefly captured by Morand’s First Division, before his men were thrown out by a ferocious Russian counterattack. The Russian army’s 27-year-old artillery commander, General Kutaisov, was killed leading one of these counterattacks. A heroic death, but a blow to the organisation of Russian artillery for the rest of the day. Fighting continued to rage around the Flèches earthworks. Some counted as many as six major French assaults, involving 45,000 troops, with hundreds of cannon on both sides pouring fire into the packed ranks. More than once, French infantry fought their way into one of the Russian positions, only to be driven out again at bayonet point. Junot’s Westphalian Corps was sent forward in support, helping to clear Russian skirmishers from the woods to the south. General Bagration was close to the action, overseeing the defence of the Flèches, leading forward reinforcements and ordering counterattacks. Around 10am he was hit in the leg by shell fragments. Mortally wounded, he was carried from the field. Shaken by the loss of their iconic commander, the exhausted Russian infantry began to fall back, and the French finally took the Flèches. Marshal Murat then led forward Friant’s division – First Corps’ last reserve – supported by waves of heavy cavalry on both flanks. Russian Grenadiers formed squares to ward off the French cuirassiers… While their own Guard cavalry fought the French in a giant, confused melee… with heavy losses on both sides. The Russians resisted doggedly, but the combined onslaught of French artillery, cavalry and infantry proved irresistible. As the Russians pulled back, Friant’s infantry fought their way into the village of Semënovskaya. The Russian centre was in disarray… and seemed close to breaking. Surely now was the time for Napoleon to deliver the knockout blow. For most of the day, Napoleon remained at his headquarters near Shevardino. Those around him later said that illness, as well as the exertions of the long campaign, had left him tired and irritable. As the Russian centre buckled, Murat and his staff urged him to send forward his last reserve, the Imperial Guard. The Emperor refused. “If there is another battle tomorrow,” he asked them, “where is my army?” But he did make one exception... Barclay was continuing to move troops from his unengaged right wing to bolster the centre. As Ostermann-Tolstoy’s Fourth Corps arrived behind the Russian centre, French observers feared they were massing for an attack. So Napoleon ordered forward General Sorbier’s Guard artillery. His batteries opened a devastating fire on the enemy. Yet even as they were mown down in their ranks, the Russian infantry stood their ground. On the Russian right wing, all remained quiet, so General Platov, commander of the Don Cossacks, proposed that he lead an attack on the lightly-defended Borodino village. Permission received, Generals Platov and Uvarov led a force of 8,000 Cossacks and cavalry across the Kalatsha River They fell on French and Italian troops around Borodino with complete surprise, spreading panic and disorder. Grouchy’s Third Cavalry Corps had to be pulled back across the river to drive off the Russians. Russian commanders saw this raid as a missed opportunity. But it had delayed the next French attack by two hours… and may have persuaded Napoleon that he was right to hold back his reserve. Around 3pm, the French launched their biggest assault yet on the Great Redoubt.. Russian gunners targeted the French infantry advancing to their front, allowing French cavalry to outflank the Redoubt, and charge it from the rear. Saxon cavalry were first in, cutting down Russian infantry and gunners, almost to the last man. It was an astonishing feat by the horsemen, against all the rules of war – and testament to the ferocity of the fighting. As Eugène’s infantry consolidated their hold on the Redoubt, he ordered forward all the available cavalry to exploit this success. But they were met, and checked by the last Russian cavalry reserves. Eugène now implored Napoleon to commit the Imperial Guard. But again, the Emperor refused. “I will not destroy my Guard,” he told his staff, “I am 800 leagues from France and I will not risk my last reserve.” By 5pm, both armies were in a state of utter exhaustion. The battlefield was strewn with dead and wounded. Some infantry battalions could muster only a third of their strength. Cavalry could advance no faster than a trot. Gun crews were collapsing with fatigue. As dusk approached, fighting slowly died out across the battlefield. Napoleon and the French army expected the fighting to resume the next day. But by dawn, Kutuzov, having learned the full, horrifying scale of Russian losses, had ordered a withdrawal. The losses on both sides were enormous. Russian casualties are estimated at 44,000. French losses: around 30,000, including 49 generals – 12 of them killed. Borodino would prove to be the bloodiest single day of the Napoleonic Wars. The Russian army could not fight another battle until it had received major reinforcements. And so Kutuzov decided that he must abandon Moscow. On 15th September, a week after his victory at Borodino, Napoleon entered the city. He would find it virtually deserted, and already, the first fires starting to burn. 15th September 1812. 83 days after invading Russia; a week after his costly victory at Borodino; Napoleon entered Moscow. He expected to be greeted by dignitaries, formally offering the city’s surrender. Instead, he discovered that 90 per cent of Moscow’s inhabitants had fled. A fire had started the previous night, and was blamed on drunken soldiers. But over the next 48 hours, fires continued to break out across Moscow, until most of the city was ablaze. Count Fyodor Rostopchin, the city’s governor, had ordered that Moscow be destroyed rather than allowed to fall into enemy hands. And now fires were being started deliberately by Russian criminals, freed from jail and acting on police orders. French soldiers rounded up and shot any they could catch, but the inferno was impossible to contain. In four days, two-thirds of Moscow was destroyed. With the fires finally under control, Napoleon’s soldiers turned their attention to systematically looting the ruined city… While from his new quarters in the Kremlin, Napoleon sent a letter to Emperor Alexander in St. Petersburg, inviting him to make peace, and end the war. He received no reply. Napoleon waited, confident that Alexander would eventually negotiate. But as the days passed, he grew increasingly uneasy. Cossack raids were disrupting his vital communications with Paris, as well as the arrival of supplies. While the steady attrition of French forces, and Russian reinforcements, meant Napoleon was outnumbered for the first time in the campaign. Rumours also reached him that his reluctant allies, Prussia and Austria, were in secret talks with his enemies. Napoleon had proposed that the army winter in Moscow – but that now looked too dangerous. Reluctantly, he accepted that the army would have to move back to Smolensk to find safe winter quarters. Napoleon knew how severe Russian winters could be, but continued to put off his departure, reassured by fine October weather, and hoping that at the last minute, there might be a message from Alexander, offering peace. It never came. On 13th October, the first light snow fell. Five days later, Kutuzov launched a surprise attack on Murat’s advance guard at Vinkovo, and defeated it. Napoleon, stung into action, gave the order for the army to leave Moscow the next day. 100,000 men of the Grande Armée left Moscow in a column 10 miles long, with an estimated 40,000 carriages and carts. There were women and children too: army wives and the vivandières, the women who cooked for the soldiers, as well as some civilians. Every wagon and pack was stuffed with as much food and loot as possible. As he set off, Sergeant Bourgogne of the Imperial Guard made an inventory of his pack. It contained: “several pounds of sugar, some rice, some biscuit, half a bottle of liqueur, a woman's Chinese silk dress embroidered in gold and silver, several gold and silver ornaments, amongst them a piece of the cross of Ivan the Great... Besides these I had my uniform, a woman's large riding-cloak, two silver pictures in relief, 12 inches long and 8 high, all in the finest workmanship. Also several lockets and a Russian Prince's spittoon, set with precious stones. I wore over my shirt a yellow silk waistcoat, which I had made myself out of a woman's skirt; over that a large cape lined with ermine, and a large pouch hung at my side by a silver cord. This was full of various things - amongst them, a crucifix in gold and silver and a little Chinese porcelain vase. Then there were my firearms, powder-flask and sixty cartridges in the box.” This heavily-encumbered army did not yet realise it was in a race against time. The Russians were beginning to move against the flanks of Napoleon’s 550 mile-deep salient. That very day, Wittgenstein’s army was driving back Marshal Saint-Cyr’s outnumbered force at Polotsk… and drawing Victor’s Ninth Corps west to support them. In the south, Admiral Chichagov’s advance had Schwarzenberg’s Austrian corps falling back to cover Warsaw. The corridor was closing. And then there was the weather… though Napoleon was confident his army could reach winter quarters in Smolensk in twenty days – well before the more extreme temperatures were due to hit. Napoleon planned to withdraw via Kaluga, through unspoilt country where the army could forage for supplies. But Kutuzov sent General Dokhturov’s Sixth Corps to block the road at Maloyaroslavets. In fierce fighting, Italian troops of Eugène’s Fourth Corps drove the Russians out of the town. It was a hard-won victory, reminiscent of the fighting at Borodino. Kutuzov now stood between Napoleon and Kaluga. Napoleon now took the unusual step of conferring with his marshals. And after discussing various options, he decided that rather than seek another major battle, they would retreat the way they’d come, along the Smolensk road. Napoleon had hoped to avoid this route, as it meant marching back through country already stripped bare of supplies. The day after the fighting at Maloyaroslavets, Napoleon was nearly captured by a group of Cossacks, and saved only by General Rapp’s charge at the head of his escort. After this close shave, Napoleon had a phial of poison made up, which he carried around his neck in case of capture. Napoleon’s army set off on its new course, shadowed, at a respectful distance, by Kutuzov’s army to the south. They passed the old battlefield of Borodino: a grisly, unnerving sight, where crows pecked at half-buried corpses. Relentless marching quickly began to tire out men and horses. A few days later, the temperature fell below freezing. The army’s overworked, starving horses died en masse. Discipline began to break down, as some drivers simply dumped the sick and wounded by the roadside, to try to ensure their own survival. As the French column became increasingly strung out, General Miloradovich, commanding Kutuzov’s advance guard, fell on Davout’s rearguard outside Vyazma. For a few hours Davout’s First Corps was cut off, until Eugène and Ney came to his rescue. The battle ended with street-fighting in Vyazma, as the French hastily evacuated the burning town. For the soldiers of the Grande Armée, so unaccustomed to retreats and routs, Vyazma was an alarming, demoralising blow. On 4th November it began to snow heavily. The next night temperatures plummeted to minus 20 degrees Centigrade. Few men or women had proper winter clothing, or access to shelter. Many froze to death overnight. The next morning wagons and guns were abandoned. Many soldiers now sought to save themselves, ignoring officers, stealing horses and food, and leaving the column to scour the countryside for supplies. Many of these foragers were found by the Cossacks, some cut down or lanced, others robbed of every possession and left to freeze. In a few cases, they were handed over to peasants, eager for retribution against the foreign invaders who’d plundered all they owned. As the army struggled on towards Smolensk through blizzards, Napoleon ordered Eugène’s Fourth Corps to strike out for Vitebsk, where there were large French supply depots. But Vitebsk had already fallen to the Russians. Fourth Corps was too weak to fight its way through, and rejoined the army, minus its artillery, and most of its baggage. A colonel who saw Fourth Corps at this stage described men ‘without shoes, almost without clothes, exhausted and famished, sitting on their packs, sleeping on their knees and only rousing themselves out of this stupor to grill slices of horsemeat or melt bits of ice’. Just three weeks after leaving Moscow, a third of the army was dead or captured. About half the rest formed a growing army of stragglers: men without units, prepared to fight only to survive. Napoleon reached Smolensk on 9th November. The first troops into town ransacked the supply depots, leaving nothing for those who followed… including Ney’s rearguard, which arrived six days later. Napoleon had hoped to make Smolensk his winter base, but the state of the army and lack of supplies meant the retreat had to continue. But the five days he spent there gave Kutuzov time to circle ahead and prepare an ambush. When the French retreat resumed, he struck thirty miles west of Smolensk at Krasny. In three days of desperate fighting through knee-deep snow, Napoleon used his Imperial Guard to hold open the road, as Eugène and Davout’s corps fought their way through the ambush with heavy losses. Two regiments of the Young Guard were ordered to make a sacrificial counterattack to keep the Russians at bay.. and were virtually annihilated. Kutuzov held back many of his troops, and was blamed for not trying to destroy Napoleon’s army when he had the chance. It’s possible he was concerned at the number of raw conscripts in his own army, also suffering terribly in the freezing conditions. Not every French corps broke through at Krasny. Marshal Ney and his 6,000 strong rearguard arrived on 18th November, to find the road blocked by 60,000 Russian troops, and no sign of the promised support from Davout’s First Corps. Ney’s men hurled themselves against the Russian lines with desperate courage, but were mown down. Rejecting several invitations to surrender, Ney led the survivors in a daring, night-crossing of the Dnieper river, then across 45 miles of open country under constant attack from Platov’s cossacks, to reach Orsha. By the time Ney rejoined the army, his rearguard was down to just 800 fighting men, leading a column of several thousand stragglers. The army regarded his escape as a miracle, and when Napoleon heard of it, he immediately dubbed Marshal Ney ‘the bravest of the brave’. Napoleon had escaped one trap, but now three Russian armies were closing in from different directions, and outnumbered him nearly 3-to-1. From the east, Kutuzov’s main army, with 65,000 men. From the north, Wittgenstein with 30,000, steadily driving back Marshal Victor’s Ninth Corps. And from the south, Admiral Chichagov’s Army of Moldavia, with 34,000, having detached General Osten-Sacken with 30,000, to prevent Schwarzenberg’s Austrians and Reynier’s Saxon corps marching to Napoleon’s aid. Napoleon was heading for Minsk, a major French supply base with vast stores of the food, clothing, shoes and ammunition that his army so desperately needed. But on 21st November, disastrous news arrived: Minsk had fallen to Chichagov. He’d then marched on Borisov, driven out the Polish garrison, and captured its bridge over the Berezina River. By rights, the Berezina ought to have frozen solid by now, so Napoleon could have crossed anywhere, but a sudden thaw had turned the river into a torrent of ice and freezing water. Napoleon was, at least, joined by the hard-fighting Marshal Oudinot and his Second Corps, which hadn’t suffered as badly as the main column on its retreat from Polotsk. Oudinot launched an immediate counterattack on Borisov and retook the town, but couldn’t stop the Russians burning the bridge. With no other bridge for miles in either direction, it seemed Napoleon’s exhausted army was finally doomed. But there was one sliver of hope - Polish cavalry had found a ford across the river near the village of Studienka. Napoleon issued a flurry of orders: Second Corps was to fake preparations for a river crossing south of Borisov, Victor’s Ninth Corps, arriving from the north, was to form a rearguard east of Studienka to hold the Russians at bay… while engineers worked as quickly as possible to build pontoon bridges across the river… and win Napoleon’s army a fighting chance of escape. On the afternoon of 25th November, General Eblé’s Dutch engineers began building two 300-foot pontoon bridges across the Berezina River. They worked day and night, sometimes chest-deep in freezing water, and completed both bridges in less than 24 hours. Few of the engineers survived the ordeal. Chichagov had been totally fooled by the diversion south of Borisov, and was moving his troops south to face it – allowing Napoleon’s army to begin crossing its rickety bridges virtually unopposed. Oudinot’s Second Corps led the way, to secure a bridgehead, followed the next day by the remnants of the main army. Priority was given to formed troops, still able to fight. For the time being, the army’s vast crowd of stragglers remained on the far bank. By the time Chichagov realised his mistake and began moving north, Napoleon had troops in place to defend the crossing. On the east bank, General Partonneux’s 12th Division – 4,000 relatively fresh troops from Victor’s Ninth Corps - formed the rearguard. As Platov’s Cossacks approached from the east – the vanguard of Kutuzov’s main army – Partonneux tried to rejoin Ninth Corps. But caught in a swirling blizzard, with visibility down to 50 metres, he marched straight into Wittgenstein’s army. His entire division was killed or captured. The next morning, Chichagov and Wittgenstein launched co-ordinated attacks on both sides of the river. There was desperate fighting on the west bank, where Marshal Oudinot was (yet again) seriously wounded, but his Swiss infantry held the line… until General Doumerc’s cuirassiers, the army’s last heavy cavalry, charged and routed the Russians. At great cost, Polish and German troops of Victor’s rearguard held off the Russians until dark… then pulled back across the bridges. For two nights, officers had been trying to get the vast camp of stragglers to cross the bridges when they weren’t being used. But with temperatures reaching minus 30 centigrade, they’d preferred to stay put, huddled around their fires. At dawn on the 29th, with the army leaving and the Russians approaching, thousands of stragglers surged in panic towards the bridges. Dozens were crushed underfoot. Others fell or were pushed into the water, or tried to swim, which was certain death. When French engineers burned the bridges at 9am, thousands were cut off, and left to the mercy of the advancing Cossacks. Some became prisoners, others were simply put out of their misery. Since the retreat began 43 days earlier, the Grande Armée had marched nearly 500 miles - under constant attack, starved, exhausted… and for the last 23 days, in lethal sub-zero temperatures without proper clothing or shelter. In that time, the fighting strength of the Grande Armée had been reduced from around 124,000 men to 20,000, with as many stragglers still following the army. As the retreat continued to Vilna, the weather turned even worse, with temperatures falling to minus 37 degrees centigrade. The Russian armies at least now held back, leaving the winter, Cossacks and Russian peasants to finish off the invaders. On 5th December, Napoleon left the army, travelling incognito across Europe at breakneck speed… and reaching Paris in just 13 days. Naturally, English satirists capitalised on Napoleon seeming to abandon his defeated army… and many soldiers did regard it as an act of betrayal. But his generals supported his decision to leave – there’d already been one attempted coup against Napoleon in Paris, and there was much work to be done to rebuild the army, and reassure France’s allies. On 9th December, 51 days after the retreat began, around 20,000 ragged survivors of the Grande Armée began crossing the Niemen River, back into friendly, Polish territory. According to legend, Marsal Ney was the last man across. Napoleon’s invasion of Russia had proved to be one of the greatest military disasters in history. He had made fatal miscalculations about geography, logistics, and above all: Russia’s political and strategic response to his invasion. These blunders cost his empire around half a million men… as well as a quarter of a million horses, and 1,000 cannon. Put another way, of every 12 men who marched into Russia with the Grande Armée: One was killed in action or died of wounds. Two were taken prisoner, one of whom died in captivity. Seven died from disease or the effects of climate. Just two returned alive. Contrary to myth, many more soldiers had died in the summer advance - from heat, typhus and dysentery – than were lost in the winter retreat. Russian military casualties were estimated at 150,000, and a huge but unknown number of civilian deaths. The Russian campaign was a catastrophe for Napoleon. Not just in lost troops and resources, but in damage to prestige and reputation. That winter all his enemies sensed weakness, and prepared to join forces against him for the first time… But the Emperor wasn’t going down without a fight. Back in Paris he admitted to his ministers, “Fortune has dazzled me, gentlemen. I’ve let it lead me astray. Instead of following my plan I went to Moscow. I thought I’d make peace there. I stayed too long. I’ve made a grave mistake… but I’ll have the means to repair it.” 1812 had been a disastrous year for Napoleon. His invasion of Russia had led to the almost total destruction of an army of half a million men. Now Poland and Germany were wide open to Russian attack. Some advised Emperor Alexander that this was the time to make a favourable peace with Napoleon – Russia’s own armies had been mauled, and western Russia devastated. But Alexander was determined to see Napoleon defeated for good – to free Europe from his clutches, and avenge Moscow’s destruction… by taking Paris. Napoleon’s allies were deserting him: Prussian troops had already agreed a truce with the Russians. Schwarzenberg’s corps marched back to Austria, which assumed a policy of watchful neutrality. Napoleon had left Marshal Murat in charge of the remnants of the army. But he left for the Kingdom of Naples, hoping to cut a deal with the Allies that would let him keep his throne. He was replaced by Napoleon’s stepson Eugène, who’d proved himself a brave and able soldier in Russia, but was unused to independent command, and now faced odds of four-to-one. As Russian forces advanced through Poland, he continued to retreat west, leaving garrisons to hold strategic fortresses, most of which were soon besieged. On 7th February Russian troops entered Warsaw unopposed: Napoleon’s Polish client state, the Duchy of Warsaw, effectively ceased to exist. Three weeks later, Russian troops entered Berlin… while Sweden joined the Allies. Sweden was ruled by Napoleon’s former marshal Bernadotte, now officially known as Crown Prince Karl Johan. Many would accuse him of betraying Napoleon, but he’d always been clear that once he became Sweden’s Crown Prince, he’d pursue Swedish interests – which is what he now claimed to do. In exchange for Norway, to be taken from France’s ally Denmark, and one million pounds from Britain, Bernadotte agreed to join what was now the Sixth Coalition against France since the Revolution, with an army of 30,000 troops. Ten days later King Frederick William of Prussia declared war on France. It followed weeks of indecision – the king was widely seen as a weak character, and terrified of Napoleon. But with guarantees of Russian military support, the return of lost territory, and enormous financial and material aid from Britain, he agreed to field an army of 80,000 men. On 17th March he issued a proclamation to the people of Prussia and Germany, ‘An Mein Volk’, ‘To My People’… summoning them to fight for Prussia and Germany’s honour, in what would soon be known as the ‘German War of Liberation’. The Prussian army had been greatly reformed since its humiliating defeat to Napoleon in 1806. A military commission, headed by General von Scharnhorst, had sacked nearly 200 old generals and abolished flogging; expanded recruitment and introduced exams for officers; and overhauled training, tactics and drill. When Napoleon met the new Prussian army in battle two month later, he remarked, ‘These animals have learned something!’ Small consolation, they’d learned most of it from him. As his enemies massed in Germany, Napoleon was in Paris working tirelessly to build a new army with which to face them. 137,000 new conscripts joined the army, and laws passed to call up 100,000 more, while 40,000 veterans from the army in Spain, 16,000 marines, and 80,000 men of the National Guard – a home defence force – were transferred to Germany. The new conscripts were nicknamed ‘Marie Louises’, after Napoleon’s young wife, who’d passed the new conscription laws in his absence. They were young and raw: two-thirds were teenagers. And there was a severe lack of experienced officers and NCOs … in short, the countless, irreplaceable veterans now lying beneath Russian soil. There was also a critical shortage of cavalry – a crisis mocked by British satirists. It would take Napoleon longer to replace the many thousands of horses and trained horsemen who’d perished in Russia. When Napoleon left Paris for Germany in mid-April, the French situation was precarious: Eugène had been forced back behind the River Elbe, to the fortified city of Magdeburg... Dresden, the capital of Saxony, had fallen to the Prussians. The Duchy of Mecklenburg-Schwerin became the first German state to defect from Napoleon’s Confederation of the Rhine... Russian Cossacks raided as far as Hamburg, inspiring local revolts against French occupying forces… Meanwhile Austria stood on the sidelines – so far declining to back either side. Napoleon’s miraculous feat of organisation meant he now had more than 200,000 troops in Germany. And the Emperor’s personal magnetism was undimmed: the morale of his army was high. The Russians, on the other hand, lost their iconic commander, Field Marshal Kutuzov, to pneumonia, on 28th April. His role was taken over by General Wittgenstein. Russian troops were exhausted and far from home, their army weakened by the need to contain French garrisons across Poland and Germany. Prussia and Sweden had yet to fully mobilise their strength, and Allied forces barely mustered 100,000 men. They were now heavily outnumbered by Napoleon, and the French Emperor decided to strike quickly. He ordered Marshal Davout to Hamburg with 35,000 men, to secure his northern flank. He would march against the Russian and Prussian forces converging on Leipzig, to force a decisive battle. Victory would make Austria think twice about joining the Allies, allow him to rescue the 90,000 men trapped in garrisons across Germany and Poland, and re-establish his dominance over Europe. As Napoleon advanced on Leipzig, the Allies faced a predicament: to risk battle against Napoleon’s larger army, or give up Germany without a fight, a potentially devastating blow to Allied morale, and any chance of winning Austria over to their cause. Allied Headquarters made the bold decision to attack: they knew most of Napoleon’s army was made up of raw conscripts; that their own troops were better trained, and had a great superiority in cavalry and artillery. The Allies agreed that as Napoleon crossed the Saale River, they would hit his right flank, before he could concentrate the full mass of his forces. The two armies were on a collision course. But Napoleon’s shortage of cavalry meant he lacked information about Allied movements. On 1st May Marshal Bessières, commanding the cavalry in Murat’s absence, was carrying our reconnaissance himself… when he was hit by a cannonball, and killed instantly. Bessières was the second of Napoleon’s marshals to be killed-in-action, and like Lannes, an old comrade and trusted friend. The Allies were able able to surprise Napoleon, falling on Marshal Ney’s Third Corps, near Lützen. Ney’s troops had to cling on in the face of a Russian and Prussian onslaught, while Napoleon rapidly redirected his other corps to fall on the enemy’s flanks. At one stage Napoleon had to personally help rally routing troops, as they broke in the face of determined Prussian assaults. But on the whole his young conscripts fought with courage, and despite hours of savage fighting, Wittgenstein could not exploit his early advantage. As French reinforcements arrived, the battle turned against him. Towards dusk the Allies were forced to break off the engagement, though they’d inflicted around 22,000 casualties, losing just half as many men. General von Scharnhorst, mortally wounded, was among them. Crucially, Napoleon’s lack of cavalry meant he was unable to pursue the enemy, who retreated in good order. Expecting the Prussians to fall back on Berlin, Napoleon sent Marshal Ney in pursuit, while he continued east. But the Allied army stayed together, withdrawing to a defensive position at Bautzen, deliberately close to the Austrian border – hoping to entice Schwarzenberg to intervene, and daring Napoleon to violate Austrian neutrality. Neither happened. Instead, Napoleon ordered Ney to swing south, to fall on the Allies’ northern flank, while he launched a frontal assault to pin them in place. The battle lasted two days, as French infantry struggled forward against the Prussian and Russian lines. But a misunderstanding over Ney’s orders caused a delay, that allowed the Allies to narrowly escape Napoleon’s trap. Once more, the Allies fought with great determination, and inflicted many more losses than they suffered. There were more casualties during the pursuit – including, the next day, General Duroc, Grand Marshal of the Palace, responsible for Napoleon’s personal arrangements, and his closest surviving friend. Riding with Napoleon’s staff, a freak cannon shot ricocheted off a tree and disembowelled him. His slow, painful death deeply upset Napoleon. The Emperor continued his pursuit to Breslau, once again hindered by his lack of experienced cavalry… while Oudinot was sent north to take Berlin… but was held at Luckau by von Bülow’s Prussian corps. On 2nd June, with both sides strained to breaking point, neutral Austria proposed a ceasefire… which, to the surprise of many, Napoleon accepted. The Armistice of Pläswitz would last more than two months - a period of intense diplomacy, and military mobilisation, by both sides. Napoleon wanted time to rebuild his cavalry – a shortage of which had allowed the Allies to escape twice. But he also wanted to keep Austria on side, which he feared might join the Allies with 200,000 troops – even though Emperor Francis I was now his father-in-law, since Napoleon’s marriage to his daughter, Marie Louise, in 1810. Austrian foreign minister Klemens von Metternich, who’d become one of 19th century Europe’s most influential statesmen, now took centre stage. Metternich wanted peace, and to see Austria restored as a great European power - which meant Napoleon contained, but not crushed, which would hand too much power to Russia. In June he travelled to Dresden, to ask Napoleon to make concessions, while promising the Allies that if he did not, Austria would join them. But Napoleon dismissed Metternich’s terms out of hand: he would not return the Illyrian Provinces to Austria, agree to the re-partition of Poland, or the break-up of the Confederation of the Rhine. All were out of the question. Napoleon famously threw his hat to the ground in fury. “Peace and war lie in Your Majesty’s hands,” Metternich is said to have warned him, “Today you can still make peace. Tomorrow it may be too late.” But Napoleon preferred war to what he called ‘a humiliating peace’. On 12th August 1813, Austria joined the Sixth Coalition, and declared war on France. The Allies now had a numerical advantage of three-to-two, and a new strategy: the Trachenberg Plan. Recognising Napoleon’s genius, the Allies would avoid battle with the Emperor, and instead target his marshals, threaten his flanks, and wear down French forces… until it was time to close in for the kill. Over the next few months, the coalition would also receive massive material support from Britain, including 8 million pounds in silver and gold coin 200 cannon with transport 120,000 firearms 18 million rounds of ammunition 23,000 barrels of gunpowder 30,000 swords and sabres 150,000 uniforms 175,000 pairs of boots 1.5 million pounds of beef, biscuit and flour and 28,000 gallons of rum and brandy. The total value of British aid to the Coalition in 1813 was 11.3 million pounds, today worth around half a billion dollars. Napoleon, meanwhile, had turned Dresden into a major supply depot, and strengthened his cavalry arm, though it remained a pale shadow of its glorious past. Murat returned to lead it - his secret approach to the Allies having been rebuffed. But when news arrived of King Joseph’s disastrous defeat to Wellington’s Anglo-Spanish-Portuguese army… at the Battle of Vitoria… Napoleon had to send Marshal Soult, one of his best commanders, to salvage the situation. On 15th August Napoleon left Dresden, and advanced against what he considered the most urgent threat: the joint Prussian-Russian Army of Silesia, commanded by General Gebhard von Blücher – soon to win the nickname ‘Marschall Vorwärts’ – Marshal Forwards, for his aggressive leadership. But Blücher followed the new plan, and retreated when he learned of Napoleon’s advance. Napoleon then received news from Marshal St.Cyr, holding Dresden with 20,000 men, that Schwarzenberg’s gigantic Army of Bohemia was approaching, and the city and its supplies were in danger. Napoleon left Marshal Macdonald to keep an eye on Blücher, and raced back to Dresden, sending Vandamme’s First Corps to threaten Schwarzenberg’s communications. By the time the Allied assault began, enough reinforcements had arrived to fight off the attack. The next day Napoleon, despite being heavily outnumbered, ordered a counterattack. Struggling through mud and heavy rain, Marshal Murat’s advance, supported by Victor’s Second Corps, broke the Allied left flank and took 13,000 prisoners. The Allies had suffered a disastrous defeat, because they’d ignored their own rule – don’t take on Napoleon in battle. But news soon arrived that turned the situation on its head. Marshal Oudinot had resumed his advance on Berlin with 66,000 men, but in three days of heavy combat around Grossbeeren, he was defeated by Bernadotte’s Army of the North. Some of the most savage fighting was between Napoleon’s Saxon allies and von Bülow’s Prussians – two German states that, for now, remained on opposing sides. Three days later at the Katzbach River, Blücher inflicted a crushing defeat on Marshal Macdonald, driving some French troops into the river itself. Macdonald lost 30,000 men, 3 eagles and 100 guns, for Blücher’s 22,000 casualties. Three days after Napoleon’s victory at Dresden, as Vandamme’s corps pursued the Allies, it became trapped in wooded valleys around Kulm, and was overrun. General Vandamme himself was dragged from his horse by Cossacks, as he and 10,000 of his men were made prisoner. Napoleon sent Ney to take over from Oudinot, who engaged Bulow’s Prussian corps at Dennewitz. The Prussians, fighting to save Berlin, held their own… until Russian and Swedish reinforcements arrived, to turn the battle decisively in the Allies’ favour. Ney’s retreat became a rout, with the loss of another 22,000 men. Napoleon’s brilliant victory at Dresden had been completely overturned in just ten days. The Allied plan was working. Napoleon became increasingly frustrated, as Allied armies withdrew wherever he advanced, and advanced wherever he was not. His teenage conscripts were exhausted by constant marching, and famished, as Saxony had been stripped bare of supplies. Thousands fell sick, thousands more deserted. Russian and Prussian light troops were now operating behind Napoleon’s army, harassing his communications with France. Many of Napoleon’s marshals advised him to pull back to the River Rhine – but Napoleon wasn’t giving up Germany without a fight. By October 1813, Napoleon faced a third of a million Allied troops in Germany, converging on him from three directions. 900 miles away, Field Marshal Wellington was crossing the Bidasoa River into France – the first enemy army on French soil in nearly twenty years. While the Kingdom of Bavaria, a French ally since the days of Austerlitz, had secretly agreed to switch sides, and would declare war on France on 14th October. Napoleon planned to defend the line of the River Elbe. But the arrival of General Bennigsen’s Reserve Russian Army freed up Blücher – who suddenly marched to join forces with Bernadotte… and forced his way across the Elbe at Wartenburg. Napoleon went north with 150,000 men, seeking the decisive battle that would change his fortunes. But once more, Blücher narrowly escaped him. Then came news from Murat, who’d been left with 67,000 men to cover Schwarzenberg: the enemy had bypassed Dresden, and was heading for Leipzig. If the city fell, Napoleon would be cut off from France. Once more he was advised to fall back to the Rhine. But instead Napoleon ordered all his forces to concentrate at Leipzig. He would risk everything in one great battle, to decide the fate of his Empire… and the fate of Europe. May 1813. While Napoleon’s Grande Armée began its fightback in Central Europe, following the disastrous invasion of Russia… 1200 miles away… at the other end of Napoleon’s embattled empire, another enemy was poised to strike. The previous year, Wellington’s Anglo-Portuguese army had won a brilliant victory at Salamanca, but been held at Burgos, and forced into a long, demoralising retreat back to the Portuguese frontier. But after a winter of rest, reinforcement and training, Wellington’s army was stronger than ever: 100,000 men, many of them battle-hardened veterans. And for the first time, he had sufficient cavalry and artillery, while transport and medical services had also been improved. Morale was sky high. Their chief, known to the troops as Old Nosey, was cheered wherever he went. “I never saw the British army so healthy or so strong”, Wellington informed London. In contrast, the French position in Spain was weaker than ever. Napoleon severely underestimated the threat posed by Wellington, and had just withdrawn 20,000 French troops for his own use in Germany. As commander-in-chief, King Joseph knew his forces were overstretched. Napoleon allowed him to give up Madrid, and move his capital to the more easily-defended Valladolid. But withdrawing further, to a strong position like the Ebro River, was out of the question. That would send the wrong message to neutral Austria, and Napoleon’s wavering German allies. And so, with serious concerns, Joseph and his Chief of Staff Marshal Jourdan awaited Wellington’s offensive. Wellington’s plan was for his army to advance in two wings, concentrate at Toro, then move against Joseph’s forces. In the south, Murray’s Anglo-Sicilian-Spanish force, based in Alicante, had just repelled an attack by Marshal Suchet at the Battle of Castalla. Murray would now mount a diversionary landing on the Mediterranean coast, to coincide with Wellington’s advance, and prevent Suchet sending reinforcements north. Wellington had also counted on large-scale support from Spanish regular forces, of which he was, since November 1812, theoretically Commander-in-Chief. But the Spanish Cortes based in Cádiz was deeply divided … with many still highly suspicious of British motives. The result was that Wellington would only receive direct support from a few reliable Spanish divisions. Fortunately, he would receive considerable Spanish support from the guerrillas - now better armed, organised and operating in greater numbers than ever before. A large area of Valencia had effectively been liberated by El Fraile – ‘the Friar’. Espoz y Mina had captured major towns in Navarre… and was currently keeping General Clauzel’s Army of the North busy... While Juan Martín Diaz, aka El Empecinado, was tying down large numbers of French troops near Madrid. On 22nd May, Wellington bid farewell to Portugal, and began his advance. Four days later he was in Salamanca, from where he joined the northern wing of his army under Sir Thomas Graham. Joseph and Jourdan expected Wellington’s main thrust to come from Salamanca, so planned to defend the line of the Douro River. But Graham’s rapid advance north of the river meant they’d already been outflanked, and they ordered a retreat. By a series of brilliant marches, Wellington continued threatening the French right flank… forcing Joseph to keep falling back. Wellington’s army was able to use small roads and mountain tracks north of the main highway, which the French had dismissed as impassable. But thanks to his Spanish allies, Wellington knew better. Backed by British sea power, he was also now able to switch his supply base from Lisbon to Santander, drastically reducing the length of his supply lines – another feat the French had written off as impossible. At the Ebro River, the French found themselves outflanked yet again, and fell back to Vitoria. Here Joseph decided that he must make his stand. The Zadorra river valley west of Vitoria seemed to offer a strong defensive position. Expecting an attack from the west, French forces were drawn up in 3 lines: General Gazan’s Army of the South formed the first line. Then General D’Erlon’s Army of the Centre. Then General Reille’s Army of Portugal. Joseph hoped that he could, at least, buy time for the vast wagon convoy assembled east of the city to get away. It contained not only military supplies, but his government’s treasury... And - as satirised by this contemporary British cartoon - the accumulated loot of 5 years’ French occupation of Spain, including priceless works of art, jewels and antiques. He also expected General Clauzel to arrive with 20,000 reinforcements any day. However, thanks to the guerrillas, Wellington was better informed of Clauzel’s whereabouts than Joseph himself. Knowing that Clauzel couldn’t reach Joseph before the 22nd June, he decided to attack on the 21st. The day before, French patrols reported enemy troop movement to the north. So Reille’s troops were moved to cover any threat to the army’s line of communications. … Apart from one division, which left to escort part of the wagon convoy to France – an odd decision that deprived the army of 4,000 men on the eve of battle. Marshal Jourdan had been bedridden with fever that day. The next morning, he reconnoitred the army’s position with King Joseph. They agreed that their position was overextended, and should be shortened. But by the time their orders reached General Gazan, it was too late. He was already under attack… Wellington, enjoying the advantage in numbers for once, had decided to attack in four columns across a 10-mile front, with General Graham’s left-hand column threatening Joseph’s line of retreat. It was a bold plan, with the potential to trap and destroy Joseph’s army, but required careful co-ordination and precise timing. Fortunately, the French had not thought it necessary to destroy any of the bridges over the Zadorra River, which was also fordable in several places. At 8am, General Hill’s column began its attack on the allied right: Spanish and British troops advanced up the western Heights of Puebla, driving off French skirmishers, and forcing General Gazan to send reinforcements to secure his left flank. Hill’s troops then seized the village of Subijana, but French cannon-fire and counterattacks prevented any further advance. Convinced that Hill’s attack was the main assault, and that troop movements to the north were probably a diversion, Jourdan continued to send troops from the centre to reinforce the left. This was exactly what Wellington wanted. But at 11am, he was waiting, with growing impatience, for his other columns to go into action. Lord Dalhousie’s 7th Division, supposed to be leading the attack by the centre-left column, had got held up in the mountains… while further east, Graham’s flanking move had got off to a cautious start. But seeing the size of the approaching force, General Reille decided to pull his troops back across the Zadorra River. This encouraged Graham to get things moving. Colonel Longa’s Spanish division advanced on Durana, held by Spanish troops loyal to King Joseph, and a bitter struggle for the village ensued. British and Portuguese infantry advanced against Gamarra Major. They were soon engaged in bloody street fighting with the French. This scene shows an attack by the 4th King’s Own Regiment of Foot and the 47th Lancashire Regiment. Though they succeeded in driving the French out of the village, they could not cross its bridge over the Zadorra, which was expertly covered by French guns. Around noon, a Spanish peasant informed Wellington that the bridge at Tres Puentes was completely unguarded. He immediately ordered Kempt’s elite light infantry brigade to dash across it, and secure a bridgehead. But there was still little sign of Dalhousie’s Seventh Division. General Picton, the notoriously short-tempered commander of the ‘Fighting’ Third Division, ran out of patience. Fed up with waiting for Dalhousie, he ordered his men to advance. They charged across the Mendoza bridge and a nearby ford, driving back light French defences. General Gazan, with his left flank pinned down at Subijana, was now about to be outflanked on his right, and had no option but to pull back his troops. Wellington’s army was now crossing the Zadorra River in force. Heavy fighting continued to rage on the Heights of Puebla. But here the French also had to give ground, to maintain the cohesion of their new line. Scottish Highlanders and Connaught Rangers - supported by riflemen and Portuguese troops, now stormed the village of Ariñez, routing the defenders, who retreated southeast… and a gap began to emerge in the French centre, between Gazan’s Army of the South, and d’Erlon’s Army of the Centre. The allied advance continued, with heavy pressure on both French flanks. Wellington’s army appeared to be building unstoppable momentum – with Graham’s column poised to cut off Joseph’s escape. By 4pm, Wellington’s army was formed up across the Zadorra, ready to strike a decisive blow. But his infantry came under heavy fire from 76 French guns, blasting great holes in their ranks. Allied guns were brought forward to provide support. The biggest artillery duel of the Peninsular War began, more than 70 guns on each side. Allied skirmishers, exploiting the gap in the French centre near Gomecha, were able to work their way behind the French guns, and shoot down their crews. Gazan found himself threatened on both flanks – but instead of trying to close up with D’Erlon to his north, on his own initiative, he ordered a retreat, that left D’Erlon’s own left flank completely exposed. Around the same time, Longa’s Spanish troops finally captured Durana… and rumours swept the French army that their escape route had been cut. D’Erlon’s Army of the Centre fought on bravely, withdrawing to another new defensive line, just one mile west of Vitoria. French guns kept up a steady fire on the advancing allied lines, but once more the position was outflanked. Around 5.30pm, King Joseph bowed to the inevitable, and ordered a general retreat. As the main road to France had now been cut by Longa’s Spanish troops, the army would have to retreat east towards Pamplona – along a single narrow road, with boggy fields on either side. Bad enough for thousands of troops and guns… but there had been no attempt to move off the army’s enormous convoy of wagons earlier in the day. The result was pandemonium, as military units and artillery tried to force their way through the streets of Vitoria, and the congested lanes and fields beyond. The task of forming a rearguard fell to General Reille’s Army of Portugal, which conducted an organised withdrawal, covered by its cavalry. Wellington hoped that Graham’s column would now be surging across the Zadorra River, to cut off the French army’s retreat. But Graham, overestimating the enemy’s strength, continued to take a cautious approach. East of Vitoria, the French retreat descended into total chaos. The single, narrow road became blocked. Wagons that took to the fields got stuck and were abandoned. Allied cavalry fell upon this confused mass, spreading panic and meeting little serious opposition. King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan themselves narrowly escaped capture. Among the abandoned wagons - many civilians including officers’ wives and children, priceless paintings, jewels and furniture… and more than 5 million gold francs. Troops on both sides broke ranks and dived into an orgy of plundering. One British officer described the scene: “About dusk, the head of our column came suddenly on some wagons which had been abandoned by the enemy. Someone called out, "They are money-carts!" No sooner were the words uttered than the division broke, as if by word of command, and in an instant the covers disappeared from the wagons, and nothing was seen but a mass of inverted legs, while the arms were groping for dollars; for money it certainly was. The scene was disgraceful, but at the same time ludicrous.” Wellington, however, was furious. Not only did the plundering delay pursuit of the enemy… But giant sums of cash, which might have paid for his army’s supplies, vanished into private pockets instead. Of 5.5 million francs, only 250,000 were ever recovered by the army. Vitoria was a great victory for the Coalition… Not as crushing as it might have been - reflected in relatively light French casualties. But in the chaotic retreat that followed, the allies did capture all but 2 of 153 French guns, and even Jourdan’s Marshal’s baton. French military power in Iberia was broken; the Bonapartist kingdom of Spain was at an end. Joseph returned to France to face his brother’s criticism; Marshal Jourdan retired from active service. Napoleon sent Marshal Soult to replace them. But even his shrewd military mind could not turn the tide in Spain. Counterattacks to relieve the French garrisons at Pamplona and San Sebastian were defeated. That autumn, Wellington began what proved an unstoppable advance across the Pyrenees, and into France. In southern Spain, where Marshal Suchet remained undefeated, the disaster at Vitoria forced him also to withdraw towards the frontier, leaving behind just a few isolated garrisons. After a bitter five-year struggle, the allies had brought the Peninsular War - to the Spanish, their War of Independence - to a victorious conclusion. It had been a long, hard road, steeped in blood and suffering. The alliance between Britain and Spain had been particularly treacherous to navigate. But ultimately both nations had fought together, with Portugal, to drive the French back across the Pyrenees. New research provides a clearer insight than ever into the huge attrition of French manpower in Iberia: An estimated total of 260,000 lives lost. Three-quarters died of sickness. Of approximately 66,000 deaths from combat, 43% were in actions against Spanish regular forces; 38% fighting British-led armies. And 19% fighting guerrillas. By contrast, British military deaths are estimated at 52,000, Portuguese 15,000, with many more thousands of civilian deaths, while Spanish deaths are unknown – though the country as a whole may have lost as many as half a million lives in 5 years of war and occupation. For Napoleon, this disaster had been an unnecessary and largely self-inflicted wound: an intervention born of arrogance and false assumptions… with dire strategic consequences. But as the Napoleonic Empire crumbled in Spain, an even greater struggle neared its climax in central Europe – where Napoleon faced the most powerful coalition of his enemies yet. If the French Emperor was victorious in Germany, Wellington might soon be scrambling back across the Pyrenees… The fate of Europe was about to be decided… at the Battle of Leipzig. October 1813. Napoleon Bonaparte faced his greatest crisis since becoming Emperor of the French, nine years before. His long war in Spain had ended in defeat, and an Anglo-Spanish Portuguese army had now crossed the Pyrenees to invade France itself. In Germany, the Kingdom of Bavaria had switched sides, and joined the Sixth Coalition against France. While in Saxony, Napoleon faced four armies converging on him from all directions. What’s more, these were not the same bunglers he’d crushed in 1805 and ‘6, at Austerlitz and Jena. Prussia, Austria and Russia had all learned from their mistakes; they were now better organised, trained and led, and more wary of Napoleon… The largest Coalition force was the Army of Bohemia, commanded by Austrian Field Marshal the Prince of Schwarzenberg. His was a huge mixed Austrian-Russian-Prussian army of 194,000 men and 790 guns. To the north, Blücher’s Army of Silesia, and the Army of the North, under Napoleon’s ex-Marshal Bernadotte, now Crown Prince of Sweden. Together, 130,000 men and 536 guns. To the southeast, General Bennigsen’s Army of Poland, besieging Dresden. Another 34,000 men and 135 guns. In total, the Coalition had fielded 360,000 men and 1500 guns, with Russia supplying the bulk of the troops. One unique addition to Bernadotte’s Army of the North was a single troop of British rocket artillery - an experimental weapon-system based on the Congreve rocket, a type seen here in 1830. Although wildly inaccurate, their high explosive warhead could be devastating at close range. Napoleon’s forces around Leipzig were outnumbered almost two-to-one. But with 200,000 men and 700 guns, the Grande Armée was still a force to be reckoned with, with many experienced troops and commanders, even though it increasingly relied on young conscripts to make up numbers. There were another 140,000 men that Napoleon could not call on… General Rapp’s Tenth Corps besieged in Danzig, Marshal St.Cyr’s First Corps besieged in Dresden, Marshal Davout’s Thirteenth Corps holding Hamburg, as well as several smaller besieged garrisons across Germany and Poland. Napoleon was currently about 20 miles north of Leipzig with the bulk of his army. Marshal Murat was 40 miles to the south with 90,000 men, covering Schwarzenberg. Napoleon now decided to rapidly join Murat, and with their temporary superiority in numbers, defeat Schwarzenberg, before Bernadotte and Blücher could intervene. Murat had orders to conduct a fighting withdrawal northwards, but at Liebertwolkwitz, he was drawn into major combat with the enemy’s advance guard. Around 12,000 horsemen fought what some have described as the largest cavalry battle in Europe’s history. Murat, in the thick of it as usual, was very nearly captured by Prussian dragoons. The battle ended in a minor Coalition victory, with around 2,000 casualties on each side. The next day Napoleon arrived to take command. By 16th October, Napoleon had concentrated most of his forces south of Leipzig. Field Marshal Schwarzenberg meanwhile, against Russian advice, had deployed his army on either side of the Pleisse River, which would hinder his movements throughout the battle. Napoleon had entrusted the northern sector to Marshal Ney, with orders to keep an eye out for Blücher and Bernadotte. But Napoleon didn’t expect them for at least another day, and so Ney had orders to transfer most of his troops south for the attack on Schwarzenberg. Schwarzenberg, however, knew that Blücher and Bernadotte were closer than Napoleon suspected, and that Bennigsen was also marching up from Dresden. This was the moment the Coalition had been waiting for - all their armies converging on Napoleon with overwhelming superiority in numbers. However the Coalition’s Headquarters were nothing like Napoleon’s, were one man’s will decided all. Schwarzenberg had to attempt to co-ordinate the actions of three large armies, from three separate states. And although he was Commander-in-Chief, his plans still needed to be approved by Emperor Alexander, the Supreme Commander… whilst he also managed relations with the King of Prussia and the Emperor of Austria, all of whom were present at his headquarters. The plan finally agreed was for General Wittgenstein’s corps-group to lead an attack in four main columns – with two Austrian flanking attacks west of the Pleisse. At 8am, a bombardment began along the line, as Russian, Austrian and Prussian infantry regiments advanced across cold, muddy fields. Wachau soon fell to Russian infantry, but French artillery fire made it impossible for them to advance further. Victor’s Second Corps then counter-attacked, retaking the village at bayonet-point. Wachau would change hands twice more that morning. These bloody contests for small Saxon villages would come to typify the fighting around Leipzig. At Markkleeberg, Kleist’s Prussian Second Corps drove out the Polish defenders after bitter fighting. While on the left bank of the Pleisse, Merveldt’s Austrian Second Corps struggled across broken ground to attack well-defended villages. Their assault on Connewitz stalled, but with heavy losses, the Austrians got a toe-hold in Dölitz. On the right flank, around 10am Klenau’s Fourth Corps occupied the high ground of the Kolmberg, and fought its way into Liebertwolkwitz. Napoleon, observing from Gallow’s Hill, ordered up Augereau’s Ninth Corps and the Young Guard in support. Macdonald’s Eleventh Corps was now also arriving in position on his left. His troops retook the Kolmberg, and counterattacked Liebertwolkwitz, driving out the Austrians, and pursuing them over the fields beyond. The advance was only halted when Russian Cossacks were sighted on their open left flank – a warning that Bennigsen’s army was not far off. The Coalition offensive was going nowhere, with most of its modest gains lost to French counterattacks. But there was one sector where the Coalition had more success that morning: General Gyulai’s Austrian Third Corps, with orders to threaten Napoleon’s line of retreat, advanced over marshy ground towards Lindenau. Ney had to divert Bertrand’s Fourth Corps to reinforce the village, and ensure the road to France was kept open. Napoleon was waiting for Ney’s reinforcements before launching his attack on Schwarzenberg. But now Fourth Corps was tied down at Lindenau… and there was more bad news from Ney: Blücher’s Army of Silesia was approaching from the northwest. Marmont’s Sixth Corps had had to turn about, to keep the Prussians at bay. Heavy fighting broke out around Möckern, the village itself held by elite French marines… while Dąbrowski’s Polish division clung onto Wiederitzsch, under attack from an entire Russian corps. This was a nasty surprise for Napoleon, who’d thought Blücher was still a day’s march away. But the old Prussian general, hearing cannon-fire to the south, had urged his men on, and into the attack. Blücher intended to draw as many French troops onto himself as possible, to assist Schwarzenberg’s Army of Bohemia. His actions, and the bloody fight for Möckern, may just have saved the Coalition from defeat… Napoleon was outnumbered across the whole battlefield, but in the south, he still had a numerical advantage… not as large as he’d hoped, nor likely to last long. Schwarzenberg and Alexander were already moving up reserves – though Schwarzenberg now found that his were on the wrong side of the Pleisse River – costing precious hours. It was now or never for Napoleon. At 2pm he ordered the attack to begin. A grand battery of 180 guns blasted the enemy lines…. Then Victor’s Second Corps, Lauriston’s Fifth Corps and the Young Guard began their advance. In support, Murat gathered two entire cavalry corps – 10,000 horsemen – and led them in one of the great mass cavalry charges of the Napoleonic Wars. Cuirassiers of the 1st Heavy Cavalry Division broke through to the main enemy battery. Some even nearly reached the three Coalition monarchs. But the ground was marshy and broken by fences and ditches. The French horses were soon exhausted, and the squadrons disordered. Austrian cuirassiers and Russian Guard cavalry were coming up from the south. When these fresh Allied cavalry reserves charged the French, a great melee ensued… but the French were eventually driven back to their start line. Maison’s division of the Fifth Corps was involved in a desperate struggle for Gülden-Gossa. The fighting swept back and forth through the village, the streets filling with dead and wounded from both sides. But as Russian and Prussian Guard regiments arrived to reinforce the village, the French were forced to fall back. Around 4pm, the Austrian Reserve Corps finally arrived, and renewed the assault on Markkleeberg - one of the morning’s objectives, which was finally secured. By 5pm it was clear that Napoleon didn’t have enough reserves to force a decisive outcome in the south. To the north, Möckern was being stubbornly held by French marines, with lethal close-range artillery support. But despite terrible losses, Yorck’s Prussian corps continued to attack. Marshal Marmont himself was wounded twice, but remained in command. Finally a brilliant charge by Prussian hussars triggered a French rout. Möckern fell, as Marmont’s corps streamed back towards Leipzig. As dusk fell around 6pm, fighting died out across the battlefield. The first day of the battle had cost the French an estimated 25,000 casualties; the Coalition, at least 30,000. Napoleon had come close, but failed to land a decisive blow. The chance for victory was slipping from his grasp. Sunday 17th October brought a lull, with both armies exhausted by the previous day’s fighting. Napoleon needed to rest his troops and resupply them with ammunition, which was running dangerously low. He also sent a message to his father-in-law, Emperor Francis I, suggesting an armistice and finally offering concessions. But the allies were no longer interested. They knew time was on their side. The only major combat that day occurred in the north, where Blücher continued to attack. Russian infantry stormed Eutritzsch… and Gohlis… Russian hussars charged and routed part of Arrighi’s Third Cavalry Corps. That day Napoleon received 14,000 reinforcements when Reynier’s French-Saxon Seventh Corps arrived from the northeast. But the same day, the Coalition received more than 100,000 reinforcements, as their armies continued to converge on Leipzig. Colloredo’s Austrian First Corps… Bennigsen’s Army of Poland… and Bernadotte’s Army of the North – though the latter was widely criticised for his leisurely march to the battlefield. The next day Napoleon would face odds of nearly two to one – it was time for the emperor to begin planning his retreat. On Monday morning, the sun shone across 40 square miles of battlefield, on which nearly half a million troops and 2,000 cannon were assembled: soldiers from France, Germany, Russia, Austria, Poland, Italy, Sweden, the Netherlands, and even Britain. This was truly ‘the Battle of the Nations’. In preparation for his withdrawal, Napoleon pulled back his forces into a tighter, defensive perimeter…. and ordered Bertrand’s Fourth Corps to march west to secure the army’s line of retreat. Two divisions of the Young Guard, under Marshal Mortier, took their place at Lindenau. Schwarzenberg, meanwhile, planned to close the net on Napoleon, with six converging attacks. Fighting in the south began around 8am. The Austrians took Dölitz, but Marshal Oudinot led a counterattack at the head of a Young Guard division, and drove them out again. Schwarzenberg was so alarmed by this reverse, that he sent orders to recall Gyulai’s Third Corps. General Barclay’s troops initially faced little opposition, as they took Wachau and Liebertwolkwitz, scenes of such bitter fighting two days before, but now scarcely defended. Barclay then paused, waiting for Bennigsen to get into position on his right, before continuing his attack. Bennigsen’s troops had more ground to cover, but towards noon, they’d driven back Macdonald’s infantry and taken their objectives. They would now wait for Bernadotte’s army to link up on their right. But the Army of the North was again making slow progress, for which many, again, blamed its commander, who seemed exceedingly cautious about facing his old master in battle. Blücher, in contrast, did not hesitate to launch Russian infantry against Leipzig’s northern defences, though their attack failed with heavy losses. By 2pm, Napoleon was hard-pressed on all fronts, but holding his own. His attention was now focused on Probstheida, key to his southern front, under attack from Kleist’s Prussian Second Corps. French troops had turned the village into a fortress, and inflicted terrible losses on the advancing Prussians. Probstheida was soon engulfed in smoke and fire, as fighting raged on all sides. Some Prussian regiments lost half their men attacking the village, while three French generals were killed as they organised its defence. Napoleon even sent in Friant’s division of the Guard to reinforce the position. To the north, Bernadotte’s army was finally joining the battle in earnest. Marmont had assembled 137 guns around Schönefeld, which poured fire into the Russian ranks. In response, Bernadotte massed 200 guns of his own. The fields were soon strewn with the dead and wounded, as the sheer weight of fire made it impossible for either side to advance. Around 3pm, von Bulow’s Prussian corps, supported by Austrian jaegers and its small British rocket detachment, attacked Paunsdorf. Reynier’s Seventh Corps could not withstand the onslaught. An hour later, around 3,000 Saxon soldiers rushed over to the enemy and surrendered. The Saxons were deeply disillusioned with their French allies. Their main wish now was for a quick end to a war that had ravaged their homeland for many months. The hole in the line created by the Saxons’ defection was soon plugged by Guard cavalry. But the Coalition juggernaut could not be stopped. Towards dusk, under relentless Russian pressure, Marmont abandoned the burning ruins of Schönefeld, while the Prussians took Sellerhausen. In the south, Probstheida still held, but the situation was grim for Napoleon. The third day’s fighting cost both sides another 25,000 casualties. Napoleon’s army was exhausted, outnumbered, virtually encircled… and critically low on ammunition. Finally, the Emperor gave the order to retreat. Overnight, under cover of darkness and early morning fog, the French army withdrew behind Leipzig’s walls… and at 4am began its retreat west, crossing the single bridge over the Elster River, that led back to France. There’d been time and materials to build extra bridges, but in what would prove a serious oversight, no one had given the necessary orders. Furthermore, there was no clear plan for Leipzig’s defence, which was left to a jumble of under-strength units, mostly Poles and Germans. Napoleon left Leipzig around 10am. Behind him, there were scenes of mounting chaos and confusion, the city’s streets jammed with troops, guns and wagons. The 20,000 wounded troops in the city had little hope of escape. 30 minutes later shells began to rain on the city, as the Coalition launched an all-out assault from north, east and south. The rearguard held the city’s gates for as long as they could. But they were soon overwhelmed by the enemy, and savage street fighting broke out across the city. A barge, packed with gunpowder, had been moored beneath the Elster bridge, so that it could be quickly destroyed after the rearguard crossed. Around 2pm, a corporal lit the fuse when he saw Russian soldiers on the far bank… even though the bridge was still packed with troops, wagons and horses. The bridge was destroyed in a gigantic explosion, that trapped 30,000 men and 30 generals on the wrong side of the river. Panic broke out among those who suddenly found themselves cut off. Most became prisoners, but some tried to swim for it… including the Polish Prince Poniatowski, made a Marshal by Napoleon just three days before. Weak from his wounds, he rode his horse into the river, but as it tried to climb the steep far bank, it rolled over him, and he was drowned. Marshal Macdonald had also been cut off by the blast, and resolved to escape, or die trying. He found a place where engineers had cut down two trees as a makeshift bridge, and made his attempt: “… and there I was, one foot on either trunk, and the abyss below me. A high wind was blowing. I was wearing a large cloak and fearing that someone would grab at it, I got rid of it. I was already three-quarters of the way across, when some men decided to follow me; their unsteady feet caused the trunks to shake… and I fell into the water. Fortunately I could touch the bottom, but the bank was steep, the soil loose and slippery… Some of the enemy’s skirmishers came up.... They fired at me point-blank, and missed me, and some of our men who happened to be nearby drove them off, and helped me out. I was wet from head to foot, breathless and sweating heavily from my efforts. Marshal Marmont, who had got across early in the day, gave me a horse; I wanted dry clothes more, but they were not to be had.” The loss of the bridge turned what was already a heavy defeat for Napoleon… into a disastrous one. Later that day the three Allied monarchs met in the centre of Leipzig to celebrate their great victory. It had come at enormous cost. Exact numbers are impossible to establish, but in four days’ fighting, the Coalition armies suffered at least 52,000 casualties. Napoleon, who could less afford such losses, came off worse: 47,000 killed and wounded, 35,000 taken prisoner, 325 guns lost. More men were killed and wounded at Leipzig than in any European battle before the First World War. Sir George Jackson, the British ambassador to Austria, rode over the battlefield with Metternich, the Austrian foreign minister, two days later: “A more revolting and sickening spectacle I never beheld,” he wrote. “Scarcely could we move forward a step without passing over the dead body of some poor fellow, gashed with wounds and clotted with blood… another, perhaps, without an arm or a leg… here and there a headless trunk, or a head only, which caused our horses to stumble or start aside… It made one’s blood run cold to glance upon the upturned faces of the dead… We got over this ‘field of glory’ as quickly as we could.” Napoleon had suffered a calamitous defeat. He had lost the battle for Germany – his domination of Europe appeared at an end. With 80,000 survivors, he began a fighting retreat to the French border. There was now no chance of rescue for the 100,000 men trapped in garrisons across Germany and Poland, though some would hold out for another five months. Marshal Murat took his leave of the Emperor, assuring him of his loyalty… but secretly planning to cut a deal with the Allies to save his throne in Naples. It was the last time the two men saw each other. Eleven days after the Battle of Leipzig, Napoleon’s former allies, the Bavarians, tried to block his escape at Hanau, with 40,000 men. The Bavarian commander, von Wrede, had served with Napoleon in many campaigns. But on seeing his deployment for battle, Napoleon remarked, “I made him a count, but I couldn’t make him a general.” The French Emperor then ordered the Imperial Guard to lead an attack, that forced the enemy to fall back in disarray. The French army reached the safety of Mainz three days later. Napoleon himself pushed on to Paris, to contain the political damage from his defeat. Behind him, his Empire was being dismantled. On 4th November the Coalition announced the dissolution of the Confederation of the Rhine – several of its former members now joining the war against France. In the Illyrian Provinces, local revolts, Austrian invasion and British naval support brought an end to French rule. In North Italy, Eugène was retreating steadily before the advance of von Hiller’s Austrian army. While in Hamburg, Marshal Davout, with 34,000 troops, would soon be cut off, and under siege. Napoleon’s situation was desperate. But in the next campaign… fought for France itself… Napoleon would prove that he was still the master of war. In October 1813, Napoleon had suffered his heaviest ever defeat - at Leipzig… the Battle of the Nations. Surviving French forces, exhausted, sick, and demoralized, retreated to the River Rhine, and prepared to defend France from invasion. But in November, the armies of the Sixth Coalition paused their advance, and Austrian foreign minister Metternich offered peace terms: ‘The Frankfurt Proposals’ would allow Napoleon to keep his throne, if France returned to her so-called ‘natural frontiers’. It was the best offer Napoleon was likely to get, now that his back was to the wall, and all Europe’s great powers were united against him. Even so, he did not accept the terms, he merely agreed to reopen negotiations. To the Allies, and many in France itself, it proved that Napoleon would not listen to reason. The war went on, and by January 1814, Napoleon’s situation looked even worse. Many of his besieged garrisons in the east were starved into surrender. Marshal Davout with 34,000 men in Hamburg was now besieged. Denmark, one of France’s last allies, was invaded by Bernadotte’s Swedish army, and made to join the Coalition. French troops evacuated the Netherlands, which reasserted its independence after nearly 20 years of French control. In Italy, Eugène’s army faced a new enemy: Joachim Murat, King of Naples - now marching north with 30,000 men, to honour his new alliance with the Sixth Coalition. In Paris, Napoleon responded to the crisis with a series of extreme measures: property taxes doubled, state salaries and pensions suspended, 300,000 new conscripts called up… from a country already exhausted by 20 years of war. He ordered the release of Pope Pius (under French house arrest for the last five years), to try to shore up his support in Italy. He even agreed to release Fernando, the Bourbon king of Spain, to take up his throne, in exchange for peace between France and Spain – a condition that Fernando was in no position to honour. But these concessions were too little, far too late. In January, two Coalition armies crossed the Rhine into France: Blücher’s Army of Silesia… and Schwarzenberg’s Army of Bohemia. Outnumbered French forces in their path could only fall back. On 25th January, Napoleon said farewell to his wife and son at the Tuileries Palace, before leaving for the front. He would never see either of them again. With just 70,000 men, he faced odds of four-to-one. Most of his troops were raw conscripts, some without uniforms, many just learning how to hold a musket. But for the first time in years, Napoleon’s army was so small that he’d be able to exercise direct command over all its movements. The result would be one of the most audacious and brilliant campaigns in history. The battle for France would be fought east of Paris, mostly across Champagne: a flat region divided by the rivers Marne… and Seine… and their tributaries. In late January fields were dusted with snow, and roads quickly turned to mud. Napoleon learned that the Coalition armies were widely scattered, with part of Blücher’s army near Napoleon’s old college at Brienne. The Emperor advanced rapidly, hoping to trap and destroy part of Blücher’s army. But after a hard day’s fighting that cost both sides 3,000 casualties, Blücher was able to retreat towards Schwarzenberg’s army. That evening, Napoleon was nearly skewered by a charging Cossack – saved only by General Gourgaud’s good shooting. As Napoleon tried to work out the enemy’s movements, Blücher, heavily reinforced by Schwarzenberg, made a surprise attack at La Rothière. Allied troops advanced through swirling snow to assault the village, defiantly held by young French conscripts. One was so inexperienced that Marshal Marmont had to personally show him how to load his musket during the battle. By late afternoon, Wrede’s Bavarian corps was falling on Napoleon’s flank. Heavily outnumbered, Napoeon had no option but to retreat, having lost 5,000 casualties, and 73 guns, abandoned in the thick mud. The Allies’ frontal attacks meant their losses were greater. But by combining their armies, they’d defeated Napoleon on French soil for the first time. Believing Napoleon would now retreat towards Paris, the Allies decided to advance along two routes, to ease pressure on the roads: Blücher would take a northern route along the Marne; Schwarzenberg would follow the Seine. But dividing their armies again… would play right into Napoleon’s hands. After two days to reorganise, Napoleon continued his retreat to Nogent, where he learned that the Allies had split their armies. Not only that, they were advancing at different speeds: the aggressive Blücher racing ahead, while the more cautious Schwarzenberg lagged behind. Leaving Oudinot and Victor to guard the Seine bridges and delay Schwarzenberg, Napoleon raced north through mud and rain with 30,000 men. The Army of Silesia was strung out on the march, oblivious to the danger it was in. First Napoleon fell on General Olsufiev’s Russian Ninth Corps at Champaubert, destroying it, taking its commander and 2,000 men prisoner. The next morning he marched on General Osten-Sacken’s force near Montmirail. This was a much larger force, with two infantry and one cavalry corps, and was expecting support from Yorck’s Prussian First Corps. But the Prussians were late… and Sacken’s troops could not withstand the French onslaught. At this desperate hour, the Emperor’s elite Old Guard were no longer held back, but were often thrown into the thick of the fighting. By the end of the day Napoleon had inflicted another 3,500 casualties – twice his own losses – and the Allies were in rapid retreat. Napoleon had ordered Marshal Macdonald to cut off the enemy’s escape, by seizing the Marne bridge at Château-Thierry. But Yorck’s Prussians got there first. The next day Napoleon could only batter their rearguard, as the enemy fled across the Marne, destroying the bridge behind them. Sending Marshal Mortier to rebuild the bridge and continue the pursuit, Napoleon doubled-back to re-join Marmont, who had been left to keep watch on Blücher. Napoleon attacked at Vauchamps, using General Grouchy’s cavalry to outflank Blücher’s army, which was soon in headlong retreat. A merciless French pursuit inflicted 6,000 Prussian and Russian casualties. Napoleon lost just 600 men. Napoleon had taken on an enemy army almost twice his size, and beaten it four times in just six days. Blücher had lost an estimated 15,000 casualties in battle, and another 15,000 in smaller engagements, as stragglers, or deserters. For now, the Army of Silesia had been scattered, and neutralised. But in the south, Marshals Victor and Oudinot had not been able to prevent Schwarzenberg’s Army of Bohemia from crossing the Seine in three places. Austrian troops were now just 40 miles from Paris. Leaving Mortier and Marmont to keep watch on Blücher, Napoleon raced south. Schwarzenberg, alarmed by news of Blücher’s defeat, and of Napoleon’s approach, immediately ordered a retreat. It was too late for Wittgenstein’s advance guard, routed at Mormant, with 2,000 casualties. Napoleon sent Victor’s Second Corps to seize the bridge at Montereau, but was so infuriated by its slow progress that he sacked Victor, and gave his corps to General Gérard. The next day, at the Battle of Montereau, the French drove the Allied Württemberg corps back across the river with 30% losses. According to some accounts, the Emperor sighted the French cannon himself, as he had at Lodi, 18 years before. Napoleon had the Allies on the run. But how long could it last? Even as fighting continued, negotiations between France and the Coalition reopened at Châtillon-sur-Seine on 5th February. The Allied terms were now more severe: a return to France’s frontiers of 1791, which meant the additional loss of Belgium – a humiliation that Napoleon refused to accept. Instead he tried to revive the Frankfurt Proposals – hoping to play for time, and to split the Coalition, whose war aims varied from Britain’s hard line… to Austria’s more ambiguous position. But this hope was thwarted by British foreign secretary Lord Castlereagh. On 1st March, he persuaded the Allies to sign the Treaty of Chaumont. In it, Russia, Prussia, Austria and Great Britain agreed to keep 150,000 troops in the field, and not to negotiate separately with France, while Britain added the sweetener of a 5 million pound subsidy to be shared among the Allies. The treaty’s secret articles specified common war aims, including the future independence of the German states, Switzerland, and Italy, while Spain was to be returned to the Bourbons, and Holland to the House of Orange. The four powers even agreed that once they’d defeated Napoleon, they’d form a 20-year defensive alliance to maintain peace in Europe – a sign of their newfound commitment to each other. A split in the Coalition had been Napoleon’s last, best hope for a favourable peace. That was gone... And news from across the country was bleak. French cities were surrendering to the Allies without a fight: Nancy, Dijon and Mâcon had all fallen. In the south, Wellington defeated Marshal Soult at Orthez, forcing him to fall back on Toulouse. Two weeks later, as British troops approached the city of Bordeaux, it declared loyalty to France’s Bourbon kings. The mayor himself rode out to greet the British bearing a white cockade – the sign of Bourbon allegiance. Napoleon’s hope for ‘a nation in arms’ to resist the Allies had not materialised. Allied troops, particularly Cossacks, often robbed French civilians, and committed some atrocities. French peasants took revenge when they could – but there was no guerrilla war to mirror what French troops had encountered in Spain or Russia. The chief desire among ordinary French people was for peace, at almost any price. Any talk of Napoleon’s defeat in late February was premature. The French Emperor was driving Schwarzenberg’s Army of Bohemia before him, even though it was twice his size. But Schwarzenberg scrambled to safety behind the River Aube. Napoleon knew he had to land another decisive blow soon, so turned his attention back to Blücher. After an aborted attempt to join forces with Schwarzenberg, Blücher had decided to resume his advance on Paris – gathering reinforcements en route – and with only Marmont and Mortier’s weak corps to oppose him. Leaving Marshal Macdonald in command in the south, Napoleon set off to intercept Blücher, covering 60 miles in 3 days along terrible roads, choked with mud. At Napoleon’s approach, Blücher retreated across the Marne, burning the bridges behind him. 24 hours later they’d been rebuilt by French engineers, and Napoleon was poised to crush Blücher against the Aisne River… because the major crossing point, at Soissons, was held by a Franco-Polish garrison. But after just a day’s fighting, the garrison commander at Soissons tamely surrendered, allowing Blücher to escape. Napoleon continued his pursuit across the Aisne, still hoping to cut off the Army of Silesia. But at Craonne, he encountered Russian troops in a strong defensive position. The Russians fought stubbornly. The French finally forced the enemy to withdraw, but only at the cost of 6,000 casualties, including many irreplaceable veterans from Napoleon’s Guard. Napoleon pushed on to Laon. But by now Blücher had concentrated his forces, 98,000 troops in all, and outnumbered Napoleon two-to-one. French attacks were repulsed, while Marmont’s corps was caught off-guard by a late Allied counter-attack, and routed. Napoleon was lucky to avoid a much heavier defeat: Blücher, usually aggressive to the point of recklessness, was unwell, and had been told Napoleon’s army was twice as big as it was, leading him to act with unusual caution. Laon was a heavy blow to Napoleon – 6,500 casualties he could not afford. Undaunted, he fell back to Soissons, and after a brief moment to reorganise… he marched on the city of Reims, which had just fallen to Saint-Priest’s Russian corps. In a whirlwind assault, Napoleon retook the city. Saint-Priest himself was mortally wounded, his corps routed. Meanwhile in the south, Schwarzenberg had resumed his offensive as soon as he found out Napoleon had gone north. In heavy fighting, he’d driven Oudinot and Macdonald back from the River Aube. Five days later, the Allies had recaptured Troyes… as Macdonald retreated behind the River Seine. Now, after four days to rest and reorganise his battered army, Napoleon was coming south once more. Schwarzenberg, emboldened by news of Napoleon’s defeat at Laon, decided that this time he would stand and fight. Napoleon advanced on Arcis-sur-Aube, ignoring reports that the enemy was not retreating, as he believed, but gathering for battle. As heavy fighting broke out, Napoleon still believed he faced only the enemy rearguard. It was a nasty surprise to discover that he faced the entire might of the Army of Bohemia: 28,000 men against 80,000. In desperate fighting, Napoleon personally rallied fleeing troops, and exposed himself to enemy fire, having his horse killed under him by an exploding shell. But the odds were too great. At the end of the second day, Napoleon was forced to order the retreat. Napoleon believed his army was now too weak to take on the Allies directly. So he decided to change strategy. He would march into the rear of the Allied armies, join up with some of his isolated garrisons, and cut the enemy’s lines of communication, forcing them to abandon their advance on Paris. But the Allies, until now always one step behind Napoleon, had just received crucial information. Talleyrand. The most brilliant French diplomat of the age, and the most slippery. He’d served France’s monarchy, the Revolution, then Napoleon… until in 1807 he fell out irrevocably with the Emperor over foreign policy. He now believed that Napoleon was dragging France into ruin, and worked behind the scenes to ensure his downfall. From Paris, he wrote to the Russian Emperor Alexander at Allied headquarters, informing him that in the capital, support for Napoleon was crumbling, and the city’s defences had been completely neglected. He urged the Allies to march immediately on Paris, without allowing Napoleon to distract them. Talleyrand’s information was confirmed when the Allies intercepted a report from Napoleon’s chief of police, General Savary, meant for the Emperor: “The treasury, arsenals, and powder stores are empty. We are completely at the end of our resources. The population is discouraged and discontented, wishing peace at any price.” As Napoleon advanced on Saint-Dizier, the Allies sent General Witzingerode and 10,000 cavalry to harass his army, and to screen their own movements… then began their march on Paris. At Fère-Champenoise, they collided with Marmont and Mortier’s corps, advancing to join Napoleon. An entire National Guard division, 5,000 men, was virtually wiped out, as the marshals suffered a crushing defeat. Napoleon feared that the fall of Paris would be a fatal blow to his regime. His political authority, and ability to wage war, might not recover. So when he received news of the Allies’ movements, he tore up his plans, and ordered a forced march back to Paris, intending to lead its defence in person. Napoleon’s wife and son were evacuated from the capital, along with most of his ministers. His brother Joseph, the ex-King of Spain, was in charge of the city’s defences, but had done little. Paris was awash with rumours of treachery and defeat. Marmont and Mortier were able to reach Paris before the Allies, adding their troops to the garrison. It now totalled 37,000 men, including some hardened veterans of the Guard – but many more young conscripts, while a third were part-time soldiers of the National Guard. The Allies had 120,000 seasoned troops outside the city. And given the urgency of taking Paris before Napoleon could intervene, their elite guards and grenadier divisions would lead the way. On 30th March they began their assault from the north. Heavy fighting raged throughout the day. The city’s defenders fought bravely, inflicting several thousand casualties on the advancing enemy. But defeat was inevitable. That night, to save Paris from destruction, Marshal Marmont agreed to surrender the city, on condition the garrison was permitted to leave with its weapons. At the Hôtel des Invalides, the 71-year old Marshal Sérurier oversaw the burning of 1,400 flags and standards captured from France’s enemies, as well as Frederick the Great’s sword and sash, so they would not fall into Allied hands. Napoleon was just 15 miles from Paris when he was informed of the city’s surrender. He sat, with his head in his hands, for 15 minutes. On 31st March 1814, France’s enemies marched into Paris for the first time since the Hundred Years’ War. Parisian crowds cheered the three Allied monarchs, bringers of peace. Everyone in Paris was suddenly a royalist, once more. Above all they cheered for Emperor Alexander of Russia, now hailed as Europe’s saviour. Don cossacks bivouacked on the Champs-Élysées. Allied troops generally behaved well. 35 miles away, Napoleon was at Fontainebleau with 36,000 men, all of them hungry and exhausted after their 100-mile forced march. Nevertheless, Napoleon began planning an immediate advance on Paris. But for the first time, he faced unanimous opposition from his ministers, and marshals, including Ney, Macdonald, Oudinot and Berthier. They reminded him of his oath to act for the good of France. He accused them of disloyalty, acting only to save themselves. They told him the war was lost, and he must abdicate - in favour of his son, if possible. On 4th April Marshal Marmont surrendered his entire corps to the Coalition, which was marched over to the enemy lines, against the wishes of many of its officers and men. This was a devastating blow to Napoleon, and encouraged the Allies to reject his offer of a conditional abdication in favour of his son. Two days later, he abdicated without conditions. “The Allied Powers having proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is the only obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor Napoleon, faithful to his oath, declares that he renounces, for himself and his heirs, the thrones of France and Italy and that there is no personal sacrifice, including his life, that he is not ready to make in the interests of France.” Napoleon’s abdication was formalised by the Treaty of Fontainebleau, by which he was allowed to keep the title of Emperor, become sovereign of the small island of Elba, and retain a bodyguard of 400 men. News came too late to prevent Wellington’s attack on Toulouse, leading to a costly and pointless battle, with more than 7,000 casualties. The night after his abdication, Napoleon tried to commit suicide, using the poison that had been made for him in Russia, in case of capture. But it had lost its potency, and he survived. Two weeks later, Napoleon bade farewell to his Old Guard at Fontainebleau Palace, and began his journey into exile. The Napoleonic Wars, which had raged on land and sea for eleven years, seemed finally at an end. The death toll is unknown, but historians estimate that 2 to 3 million lives were lost across Europe. Most soldiers died not in battle, but from disease. Many thousands were left maimed and disfigured. For most of this period, Napoleon was master of Europe: imposing treaties on defeated enemies, redrawing frontiers, overthrowing old regimes and making new kings. He was the last figure in history to combine total political power with frontline, military genius - in the mould of Alexander, and Caesar. But it seemed Napoleon’s reign was to end in abject military defeat. However - exile on Elba did not prove to Napoleon’s taste. In less than 10 months, he would return to France to fight one last, great campaign, to reclaim his throne. 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Channel: Epic History TV

Views: 2,175,452

Keywords: epic history tv, history, epic history, napoleon, napoleonic

Id: vBSGSkIasRY

Length: 204min 10sec (12250 seconds)

Published: Fri Jul 09 2021