Read The Fields of Death Online
Authors: Simon Scarrow
The Fields of Death (56 page)
Ney nodded his approval and then rubbed his hands together briskly. ‘I thank you, sire, but right now I am Ney, the coldest of the cold. Where’s the nearest bottle of brandy?’
Chapter 36
The skies cleared as the army marched out of Orsha and made for Borisov. For the first time in days the sun shone and the temperature rose above freezing. Meltwater dripped from the trees and the surface of the road gradually turned to slush that made the going a little easier for the soldiers and remaining horses of the army. The men’s mood was lifted by the escape of Ney and his rearguard. After all, if they had survived their predicament and fought their way through the Russians, then there was something to hope for.
The army made its way across open farmland towards the Berezina without sighting any Cossacks on either flank, or behind them. For the first time in weeks, Napoleon was beginning to think that the worst was over. Marshal Victor and Marshal Oudinot had advanced from Vilna and joined the army with twenty thousand fresh soldiers and a convoy of supplies.
Then, towards the end of the second day’s march, a dragoon came galloping up to Berthier with a despatch from the cavalry screen, some fifteen miles ahead. Berthier quickly read the message as his horse walked along and then trotted forward to Napoleon’s side.
‘Sire, the scouts sighted Borisov at noon.’
‘Is the way clear?’
‘No, sire.’
‘The Russians have taken the town?’
‘Worse than that. They’ve burned the bridges and have dug into the far bank.’
Napoleon reined in and took the slip of paper from Berthier to read it through for himself. Then he handed it back with a heavy heart. ‘We needed those crossings.’
‘Yes, sire.’
A hearty cheer interrupted their conversation as the remains of a battalion from Oudinot’s corps marched past. Napoleon turned to them with a smile and raised his hand in greeting. The smile dropped at once as he turned back to Berthier.‘We keep marching towards the Berezina. The army is too weak to divert north or south. We must halt while an alternative crossing place is found. There’s a village called Loshnitsa less than a day’s march from the river, I recall. Give orders for the vanguard to halt there.’ Berthier nodded. ‘I’m riding ahead to see for myself. I’ll join you at Loshnitsa.’
Escorted by one of the few remaining squadrons of Guards cavalry, Napoleon spurred his horse forward. They passed the Imperial Guard at the head of the column and then followed the road west. The thaw had brought some of the peasants out of their huts to replenish their stocks of firewood. As soon as they saw the small column of distant horsemen they ran for cover. There was still no sign of the Cossacks and as night fell Napoleon rode on until they came up to one of the cavalry patrols observing the distant fires of the Russian soldiers on the far side of the river.
Napoleon dismounted as the colonel in charge of the dragoons made his report. ‘The enemy has invested the town, sire. Must be upwards of five thousand men. We’ve seen more of them up and downstream, patrolling the far bank.’The colonel turned to point to the north where a dim glow reflected off some low clouds scudding in from the east. ‘See that? Camp fires. But there’s no knowing how many of them are over there, sire.’
Napoleon nodded, then looked closely at the colonel. ‘What regiment do you command?’
‘Regiment?’ The colonel looked surprised. Then he smiled ruefully. ‘Sire, I command all that is left of Nansouty’s cavalry corps. All the remaining horses have been allocated to the dragoons. All two hundred of us.’
Napoleon struggled to hide his shock as he glanced round at the handful of pitiful-looking mounts that were tethered to the back of a small hut where the colonel’s men were sheltering for the night.‘Where are the rest of your men?’
‘I have one troop to the south and one close to the bank to observe Borisov. The other two troops are scouting the river to the north, looking for any crossing points.’
‘Good work.’ Napoleon nodded towards the shed where a welcoming glow lit the door frame. ‘I will spend the night with you.’
‘Sire, we’d be honoured.’
Napoleon turned to the commander of the Guards squadron.‘You’re dismissed. Find some shelter for you and your men, then report back here in the morning.’
The officer saluted and then wearily ordered his men to follow him as he trotted off into the darkness.
‘That’s the situation, gentlemen,’ Napoleon concluded as he ended the briefing of his senior officers in the dacha on the outskirts of Loshnitsa. ‘The cavalry patrols have scouted thirty miles upstream and every bridge and ford is defended by Russian guns and infantry. They also report that the recent thaw has caused the ice on the Berezina to break up.’ He paused. ‘We have to consider our options.’
He sat back and waited for his officers to respond. There was silence for a moment before Davout spoke for them.
‘I will say what is on all our minds, then. The choice is between a long march to the north, until we can cut round the upper reaches of the Berezina, or negotiating an armistice with the Russians. It is more than likely that the Tsar will deny us an armistice. He will want nothing less than a full surrender of the Grand Army.’ Davout nodded towards the Emperor. ‘Sire, if that happens, then it is vital that you are not taken prisoner along with the rest of the army. I must ask if you have made any plans to escape in the event of a surrender?’
There was a silence as Napoleon looked round at his officers, men he had known for years. He nodded. ‘I have considered the possibility, but not the precise details.’
‘Then might I urge you to think on it?’ Davout insisted.
‘Very well.’ Napoleon stirred and sat up. ‘I don’t think there is anything else to be said, gentlemen. I bid you good night. Oh, and Davout . . .’
‘Sire?’
‘It seems you were right about the pontoon bridges. I was wrong to give the order for them to be burned.’
‘I know.’ Davout nodded. ‘Good night, sire.’
When the last of the officers had left the shuttered drawing room a sentry closed the door. Berthier remained seated at the table, having returned to his routine of updating the dwindling figures from the strength returns in his notebooks. Napoleon twisted one of the silver buttons on his greatcoat.
‘What do you think, Berthier?’
Berthier replied without looking up. ‘Think of what, sire?’
‘My abandoning the army.’
Berthier lowered his pen and looked up. ‘I think it may shortly become a necessity, sire.’
‘And will it be a mistake? Speak honestly, my friend.’
‘If you are captured by the Tsar, then you can expect little mercy from him given what happened to Moscow, and the other towns and villages we have marched through. Even if your life is spared, you can be sure that you will be humiliated, and France along with you. So, yes, sire. If it comes to it, then you must do everything in your power to avoid being taken by the Russians.’
‘Everything?’ Napoleon asked quietly.
‘Yes, sire,’ Berthier nodded. He had understood. ‘Even that.’
‘My surgeon has some phials of poison. I have always ensured that he carried them in case of such an emergency. I will keep one on my person from now on. As a precaution.’
‘It would be wise, sire.’
Both men were silent for a while before Napoleon stirred. ‘Of course, if I abandon the army, they will say I am a coward, my enemies.’
‘You must expect that. But the people of France will understand that it was necessary. They will know that as long as you are alive France must be counted a great nation. While you live, you inspire our soldiers to acts of greatness, and you awe our enemies. Soldiers can be replaced. You, sire, can not.’
Napoleon searched Berthier’s face for any sign of flattery or insincerity, but his chief of staff seemed utterly convinced by his own words. Napoleon smiled warmly at him. ‘You, too, cannot be replaced, my friend. You are the word to my thought. It is through your words that my will is exercised and France has won its greatness on the battlefield. I should have thanked you before now.’ Napoleon felt an uncomfortable surge of guilt as he recalled the numerous occasions he had slighted or insulted Berthier. He shifted uncomfortably and gestured towards the door. ‘I must think, alone. Leave your books for tonight. Go and find something to eat, some wine to drink and a bed by a warm fire.’
Berthier hesitated, then nodded. He gathered up his notebooks, placed them in his large leather despatch case and quietly left the room. Napoleon rose stiffly from his chair, then carried it across to the remains of the small fire glowing in the grate. He carefully placed some more logs on the flames and sat back, closing his eyes, surrendering to the comforting warmth. He pushed troubling thoughts aside and pictured himself on the lawn at Fontainebleau, in the summer, playing with his infant son.
‘Sire.’ A hand shook his shoulder gently.
Napoleon woke immediately, eyes wide as he looked into Berthier’s excited features.
‘What is it?’
‘Marshal Oudinot is here with me, sire.’ Berthier stepped aside to reveal Oudinot.
‘So?’
‘It’s best if the marshal explains himself.’
‘Explains what?’ Napoleon eased himself up. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was three o’clock in the morning. He had been asleep for over five hours, he realised, angry with himself.
Oudinot stepped forward. ‘I’ve come straight from my headquarters. sire. I’ll come to the point.’
‘Please do.’
‘A column of reinforcements under General Corbineau joined my command this evening.’
‘I know about that. He commands a brigade that was sent for from Vilna.’
‘That’s right. Corbineau intended to cross the Berezina at Borisov on his way to join us, but the day before yesterday he discovered the town was in Russian hands. So he questioned a local peasant to see if there was another place to cross the river. The peasant guided him to a ford eight miles north of Borisov, at the village of Studienka.’
‘I know it, but there’s no ford there.’
‘None marked on the map, sire. But Corbineau crossed there.’ Oudinot could not help smiling. ‘He says the water was no more than waist deep.’
There were several flashes in the night as the firing on the far side of the river faded away. Corbineau and his men had succeeded in storming the two guns that had been left to cover the unmarked ford. They had earlier waded across the freezing river, muskets held high, and driven off a company of Russian infantry before turning on the guns. Evidently the enemy had also known about the ford, but since it had not been marked on any maps they had posted only a token force to protect the crossing place. In the distance, to the south, there was an occasional rumble of artillery as Oudinot’s men carried out their diversionary attacks opposite Borisov. As Napoleon had hoped, the Russian forces strung out along the far bank had hurried south, marching to the sound of the guns.
As soon as Corbineau sent word back across the river that he had control of the far bank Napoleon gave the order for General Eblé’s engineers to set to work. The plan called for two bridges to be constructed in the darkness and the army was to begin crossing the moment they were completed. Davout’s and Victor’s corps were to cover the approaches to Studienka while the rest of the army crossed over. The swiftness of the current and the unevenness of the river bed had ruled out any attempt to ford the river in strength. Half the army would have been swept away and the rest would have been frozen by the immersion in the icy water.
A handful of braziers were lit on the east bank to provide illumination for the engineers, and a short time later some more fires appeared on the far bank as a second team of Eblé’s men began work from the other end, a hundred paces away. Napoleon strode down to the river bank to watch the progress. He found Eblé directing the work, a few feet from the edge of the icy current swirling downstream. Out in the river the dark figures of his men stood braced against the current as they held stout timbers in place while their comrades used a makeshift piledriver to ram the timbers into the river bed.
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