War and Peace (148 page)

Napoleon rode about the field, gazing with a profound air at the country, wagging his head approvingly or dubiously to himself, and without communicating to the generals around him the profound chain of reasoning that guided him in his decisions, conveyed to them merely the final conclusions in the form of commands. Upon the suggestion being made by Davoust, now styled Duke of Eckmühl, for turning the Russian left flank, Napoleon said there was no need to do this, without explaining why there was no need. But to the proposal of General Compans (who was to attack the advanced earthworks), to lead his division through the forest, Napoleon signified his assent, although the so-called Duke of Elchingen, that is, Ney, ventured to observe that to move troops through woodland is risky, and might break up the formation of the division.

After examining the nature of the country opposite the Shevardino redoubt, Napoleon pondered a little while in silence and pointed to the spots where two batteries were to be placed by the morrow for action against the Russian fortifications, and the spots where, in a line with them, the field artillery was to be arranged.

After giving these and other commands, he went back to his quarters, and the disposition of the troops was written down from his dictation.

This disposition, of which the French speak with enthusiasm, and other historians with profound respect, consisted of the following instructions:

“Two new batteries, to be placed during the night on the plain occupied by the Duke of Eckmühl, will open fire at dawn on the two opposite batteries of the enemy.

“At the same time General Pernetti, in command of the artillery of the 1st corps, with thirty cannons of Compans’s division, and all the howitzers of Desaix and Friant’s division, will move forward, open fire,
and shower shells on the enemy’s battery, against which there will be at once in action:

“General Fouché, in command of the artillery of the 3rd corps, will place all the sixteen howitzers of the 3rd and 8th corps at the flanks of the battery, told off to bombard the left fortification, making forty guns in all aimed against it.

“General Sorbier is to be in readiness to advance on the word being given, with all the howitzers of the artillery of the Guards against either of the enemy’s fortifications.

“During the cannonade Prince Poniatovsky is to advance to the village in the wood, and to turn the enemy’s position.

“General Compans will cross the wood to gain possession of the first fortification.

“After the attack has begun on these lines, further commands will be given in accordance with the enemy’s movements.

“The cannonade on the left flank will begin as soon as the cannons of the right wing are heard. The sharpshooters of Morand’s division and of the viceroy’s division will open a hot fire on seeing the beginning of the attack of the right wing.

“The viceroy will take possession of the village of Borodino, and cross by its three bridges, advancing to the same height with Morand’s and Gérard’s divisions, which under his leadership will advance to the redoubt and come into line with the other troops of the army.

“All this is to be done in good order (
le tout se fera avec ordre et méthode
), preserving as far as possible troops in reserve.

“The imperial camp, near Mozhaisk, September 6, 1812.”

These instructions—which strike one as exceedingly confused and obscure, if one ventures to throw off the superstitious awe for Napoleon’s genius in treating of his disposition of his troops—may be condensed into four points—four commands. Not one of those instructions was or could be carried out.

In the first place the instruction is given:
That the batteries placed on the spot selected by Napoleon, with the cannons of Pernetti and Fouché, which were to join them, in all one hundred and two cannons, were to open fire and shell the Russian earthworks and redoubts
. This could not be done, since from the spots fixed on by Napoleon the shells did not carry so far as the Russian earthworks, and these one hundred and two cannons fired in the air till such time as the nearest officer in command ordered them to advance, in opposition to Napoleon’s instructions.

The second instruction given is that
Poniatovsky, advancing to the village in the wood, should turn the Russian left flank
. This was not, and could not be done, as Poniatovsky, on advancing to the village in the wood, found Tutchkov there barring his way, and did not, and could not, turn the Russian position.

The third instruction is:
General Compans will move into the wood to take possession of the first Russian fortification
. Compans’s division did not take the first fortification, but was beaten back, because, as it came out of the wood, it had to form under a fire of grapeshot, of which Napoleon knew nothing.

The fourth instruction is:
That the viceroy will take possession of the village (Borodino), and cross by its three bridges, following to the same high ground as Morand’s and Friant’s divisions
(nothing is said of whence and when they were to advance),
which under his leadership will advance to the redoubt and form in a line with the other troops
. As far as one can make out, not so much from this confused paragraph, as from the attempts made by the viceroy to carry out the orders given him, he was to advance through Borodino from the left to the redoubt, and the divisions of Morand and Friant were to advance simultaneously from the front. All this, like the other instructions, was impossible to carry out. After passing through Borodino the viceroy was beaten back at the Kolotcha, and could advance no further. The divisions of Morand and Friant did not take the redoubt, but were driven back, and at the end of the day the redoubt was captured by cavalry (in an action probably unforeseen by Napoleon, and not heard of by him).

And not one of the instructions given was, or could be, carried into effect. But in the disposition was the statement, that after the battle had begun, further instructions would be given in accordance with the enemy’s movements; and so it might be supposed that all necessary instructions had been given by Napoleon during the battle. But this was not, and could not be, the case, because, during the whole battle
Napoleon was so far from the scene of action that (as it turned out later) he knew nothing of the course of the battle, and not a single instruction given by him during the fight could possibly be executed.

Many historians assert that the French failed at Borodino because Napoleon had a cold in his head; that if he had not had a cold the orders given by him before and during the battle would have been even more remarkable for their genius, and Russia would have been lost and the face of the world would have been changed. To historians, who can maintain that Russia was transformed at the will of one man—Peter the Great—and that France, from a republic, became an empire, and that the French army marched into Russia at the will of one man—Napoleon—the conclusion that Russia has remained a power because Napoleon had a bad cold on the 26th of August may seem indisputable and convincing. Had it depended on Napoleon’s will to fight, or not to fight, at Borodino, or had it depended on his will whether he gave this order or that, it is evident that a cold, affecting the manifestation of his will, might be the saving of Russia, and consequently the valet, who forgot to put on Napoleon’s waterproof boots on the 24th, would be the saviour of Russia. On that method of reasoning such a deduction is inevitable; as inevitable as the contention which Voltaire maintains in jest (unconscious what he was ridiculing) that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew was due to an attack of dyspepsia from which Charles
IX
was suffering. But for minds that cannot admit that Russia was transformed at the will of one man—Peter the Great—and the French empire was created, and the war with Russia begun, at the will of one man—Napoleon—such a contention will seem not merely unsound and irrational, but contrary to the whole nature of humanity. The question, What constitutes the cause of historical events? will suggest to them another answer, resting on the idea that the course of earthly events is predestined from on high, depends on the combination of all the wills of the men taking part in those events, and that the predominant influence of Napoleon in those events is purely external and fictitious.

Strange at first sight as appears the proposition that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, the order for which was given by Charles
IX
., was not the result of his will, and that it was only in his fancy that the command
he had given was the cause of it, and that the Borodino slaughter of eighty thousand men was not due to Napoleon’s will (though he gave the order for the commencement of the battle), and that it was only his fancy that it was his doing, strange as this proposition appears, yet human dignity, that tells us that every one of us is neither more nor less a man than Napoleon, bids us admit that solution of the question, and historical researches abundantly confirm the proposition.

At the battle of Borodino Napoleon did not fire at any one, nor kill any one. All that was done by his soldiers. Therefore it was not he who killed those men. The soldiers of the French army went out to slay their fellow-men at Borodino, not owing to Napoleon’s commands, but through their own desire to do so. The whole army—French, Italians, Germans, Poles—hungry, ragged, and exhausted by the march, felt at the sight of an army, barring their way to Moscow: the wine is drawn, it must be drunk. Had Napoleon forbidden them at that point to fight the Russians, they would have killed him, and have proceeded to fight the Russians, because it was inevitable for them.

When they heard Napoleon’s proclamation, offering them as consolation for maiming and death the reminder that posterity would say that they had been at the battle before Moscow, they shouted,
“Vive l’Empereur,”
just as they shouted
“Vive l’Empereur”
at the sight of the picture of the little boy playing cup and ball with the earth, and just as they shouted
“Vive l’Empereur”
at every absurdity that was said. There was nothing left for them to do but to shout
“Vive l’Empereur!”
and to fight so as to get food and rest as conquerors in Moscow. Therefore it was not owing to Napoleon’s commands that they killed their fellowmen.

And it was not Napoleon who ordained the course of the battle, because none of his instructions were put into execution, and he knew nothing of what was passing before him. Therefore the manner in which these men slaughtered one another did not depend on Napoleon’s will, but proceeded independently of him, from the wills of the hundreds of thousands of men who took part in the affair. It
only seemed
to Napoleon that all this was due to his will. And therefore the question whether Napoleon had or had not a cold in his head is of no more interest to history than the cold of the lowest soldier of the commissariat.

The contention of some writers, that Napoleon’s cold was the reason of his previous instructions and commands during the battle being weaker than usual, is completely groundless.

The instructions that have been reproduced here are by no means inferior, are indeed superior, to many similar arrangements by which he had gained victories in the past. His supposed instructions during the day were also in no way inferior to the commands he had given in previous battles, but were much the same as usual. But these instructions are supposed to be inferior, simply because Borodino was the first battle in which Napoleon was not victorious. The finest and profoundest combinations seem very poor, and every military student can criticise them with a consequential air, when the battle has not been won by means of them; and the stupidest combinations will seem exceedingly ingenious, and serious writers will fill volumes in proving their excellence, when the battle that followed chances to have been a victory.

The plan composed by Weierother at Austerlitz was a model of perfection in its own line, but it has yet been condemned, and condemned for its very perfection, for its over-minuteness in detail.

At Borodino Napoleon played his part as the representative of supreme power as well, or even better, than he had done at previous battles. He did nothing likely to hinder the progress of the battle; he yielded to the most sensible advice; he was not confused, did not contradict himself, did not lose his presence of mind, nor run away from the field of battle, but with his great tact and military experience, he performed calmly and with dignity his role of appearing to be in supreme control of it all.

On returning from a second careful inspection of the lines, Napoleon said:

“The pieces are on the board, the game will begin to-morrow.”

He ordered some punch, and sending for Beausset began talking of Paris with him, discussing various changes he intended to make in the Empress’s household, and surprising the prefect by his memory of the minutest details of court affairs.

He showed interest in trifles, jested at Beausset’s love of travel, and chatted carelessly, as some renowned, skilful and confident surgeon will often chat playfully while he tucks up his sleeves and puts on his apron, and the patient is being bound down on the operating-table. “I have the whole business at my finger-tips, and it’s all clear and definite in my head. When I have to set to work, I will do it as no one else could, but
now I can jest, and the more serenely I jest the more calm and confidence and admiration for my genius you ought to feel.”

After emptying a second glass of punch, Napoleon went to seek repose before the grave business which, as he imagined, lay before him next day.

He was so preoccupied with what lay before him that he could not sleep, and in spite of his cold, which got worse with the damp of evening, he got up at three o’clock, and went out into the principal compartment of the tent, sneezing violently. He asked whether the Russians had not retreated. He was told that the enemy’s fires were still in the same places. He nodded approval.