The lack of discipline in the army must in great measure be ascribed to the fact that the kings, marshals, princes, and dukes who held the chief command were wanting in self-restraint and in the virtue of unmurmuring obedience to the Emperor.

As is well known, at the beginning of the campaign the King of Westphalia took umbrage at a well-deserved rebuke which his lack of energy had drawn upon him, and went home, leaving his army corps without even transferring the command, or communicating to any one the orders he had received.

The relations between Marshal Berthier, the chief of the staff, and Marshal Davout, between the latter and Murat, and, indeed, between many of the other commanders, were so strained that they distinctly hindered the progress of the campaign. In 1809 Berthier had been for some days Davout’s superior officer. Disregarding his orders, Davout won a battle and saved the army from annihilation; but he incurred the bitter hatred of his chief. When they met again at the opening of the last campaign they had a fierce altercation in the presence of the Emperor. Davout went so far as to say that Berthier must be “either a fool or a traitor,” and they threatened one another with personal violence. Berthier, as is well known, was incapable of initiative: He merely served as an echo of Napoleon’s wishes; but he was very docile and industrious. A firm believer in the Emperor’s maxim—“Never attempt two things at the same time; concentrate all your efforts on one,” he did not approve of the war of 1812, but bowed to necessity. He entered upon the campaign without conviction or enthusiasm, deeply disquieted by the position of the French armies in Spain.

In the campaign of 1812 the Duke of NeufchÂtel displayed, to say the least, very little foresight. Davout was no doubt the best strategist in the whole galaxy of Napoleon’s satellites, but he was of a quarrelsome, envious, and vindictive disposition. The methodical and patient genius of Davout formed a striking contrast to the impulsiveness of Murat. This was the cause of many misunderstandings between these two commanders, old comrades though they were, and almost of the same age, who had risen side by side through the various grades. They were accustomed to obey Napoleon, but were wanting in command over themselves. This was especially the case with Murat. The relations of Murat and Davout throw so interesting a light on the system of command in the Grande ArmÉe that they are worthy of some attention.

Davout was put at one time under Murat’s command. He submitted to his orders, but most unwillingly, and although he swallowed his wrath, he ceased all direct communication with the Emperor. Napoleon, however, ordered him to send in his reports as before, for Murat’s despatches were hopeless. This was just what Davout wanted, and from that time forth he ceased to recognize the authority of the King of Naples. The extent of their jealousy may be judged from the fact that in an engagement one of Davout’s batteries refused to fire on the orders of Murat. The commander of the battery urged the Marshal’s own orders in justification of his refusal; he had been told to take orders from no one but Davout under pain of losing his command.

The next day the two rivals had a lively altercation in Napoleon’s presence. The King accused the Duke of obstinate resistance to his wishes, and with secret enmity towards himself, an enmity, he averred, that had its origin in Egypt. He went so far as to propose a settlement of the quarrel man to man, urging that the army should not be allowed to suffer through their private differences. Davout, on the other hand, attacked the King furiously for his wanton recklessness, and painted a lively picture of the disorder that reigned in the advance-guard of the army. “I must admit,” said he, according to SÉgur, “that the Russians are effecting their retreat in the most admirable order. They halt wherever they find it convenient instead of consulting the wishes of our boastful friend Murat. They select their positions so well, and defend them so skilfully, with an eye to the forces at their disposal, and the time they wish to gain, that their tactics must have been carefully thought out long ago.

“They never abandon a position until it becomes untenable. At night they turn in early and leave only as many troops under arms as are absolutely necessary for the defence of their positions and for allowing the rest of the troops an opportunity for sleep and refreshment.

“But the King, instead of profiting by this excellent example, takes no account of time or of the position and strength of the enemy. He is always appearing in the skirmishing line, prancing up and down in front of the enemy or trying to worry them on the flanks, losing his temper, yelling himself hoarse with orders, wasting cartridges and ammunition, men and horses, for no reason whatever, and keeping all the troops under arms until late into the night.

“It wrings my heart to see the wretched men jostling one another in the dark, and groping for fodder and water, firewood and eatables, unable to find their own quarters, and spending the night shouting to one another. It is not only the advance-guard that suffers by this—the whole of our cavalry is visibly worn out. Let Murat do what he likes with his own cavalry, but so long as Davout is in command of the infantry of the Ist Army Corps, he will not let him worry them to death.”

“The King in reply hit as hard as his opponent. The Emperor heard them out, rolling a Russian cannon-ball about with his foot. It seemed as if he enjoyed the differences between his officers,” says SÉgur.

When he dismissed them he cautiously remarked to Davout that “no one man could combine all the virtues; that even if the Duke of EckmÜhl—Davout—knew how to win battles, it did not follow that he could lead an advance-guard; and that if Murat had been told off to pursue Bagration in Lithuania he would very likely have prevented his escape.”

Napoleon subsequently advised the two rivals to do their best to pull better together for the future; but how much they profited by this recommendation may be gathered from Belliard’s despatch to the Emperor on the battle of Viazma. “On the far side of the town the enemy appeared in a convenient position behind a trench, apparently quite prepared for an engagement. The cavalry at once went into action on either flank; but when the time came for the infantry, and the King in person was heading one of Davout’s divisions, the Marshal galloped up and ordered the men to halt. He then expressed loud disapproval of the intended movement, and had high words with the King, flatly forbidding the generals to obey his orders. Murat endeavoured to insist, and reminded Davout of his position, but his protests were useless. Meanwhile the chance was gone. The King had to content himself with sending word to the Emperor that it was absolutely impossible to carry on the command under the circumstances, and asking him to choose between him and Davout.

“Napoleon was very angry. He sided with Murat against Davout, but the former could not forget the insult to which his old enemy had given public expression. The longer he considered the matter the fiercer grew his indignation. The affront, he determined, was one that his sword alone could avenge. What mattered the Emperor’s decision, or the Emperor’s anger? He must wipe out the insult with his own hand!

“He was about to demand satisfaction of Davout, when Belliard stopped him, and represented the consequences of such an act, and the bad example it would set.”

On the whole, Davout’s accusations were fully justified. In the course of the campaign Murat’s precipitation was on more than one occasion the cause of serious loss to the invading army. The repeated attacks of the cavalry on the square formed by Neverofsky’s retreating division, when the Russians coolly and successfully sustained forty charges led by the King of Naples in person, is an example in point. When he had sacrificed the whole of his cavalry Murat practically took no further part in the campaign. He merely drove about in the carriage with Napoleon, or followed him on foot, with a stick in his hand and a fur-coat buttoned up to his chin.

The order and discipline of Davout’s own division were not, however, proof against the miseries of the retreat, and after the battle of Viazma Napoleon received a very clear report from Ney informing him of the disastrous result of the battle.

“If better order had been maintained,” said Ney, “the result would probably have been very different. The most appalling feature of the whole business was the disorganization of Davout’s division, which unfortunately spread to the other troops. I feel obliged to tell your Majesty the whole truth, and however unpleasant it is to have to find fault with any of my fellow-officers, I am compelled to state that under the circumstances I cannot answer for the safety of the retreat.”

Napoleon himself had occasion to complain of Davout’s dilatoriness. He had fallen behind five days’ march when he should, at the most, have been only three days in the rear. These complaints were repeated in all quarters, and it was said that his movements against the Cossacks had no other effect than to detain the army.

“Mon cousin,” wrote Napoleon to Berthier, losing all patience, “tell the Duke of Elchingen—Ney—to take command of the rear-guard and to move as quickly as possible—the Duke of EckmÜhl keeps the Regent and Prince Poniatowski waiting every time a Cossack shouts ‘Hurrah.’”

Napoleon could not have found a better person than the Duke of EckmÜhl to carry out his plan of taking vengeance on the Russians by burning everything on the line of march. When he was in charge of the rear-guard he distinguished himself by the zeal and completeness with which he burned every manor and village within reach.

When snow and frost appeared Davout was utterly unable to meet the altered conditions. Thrown out of his ordinary routine, he was driven to despair by the disorder that prevailed, and was among the first to lose heart.

“Davout,” says SÉgur, “entered Orcha with 4000 men, all that remained of 70,000! The Marshal lost all his personal belongings; he had no linen, and was literally dying of hunger. When he was offered a piece of bread he positively leaped upon it; when they gave him a handkerchief and he wiped his face for the first time for many days, it was covered with hoar-frost. ‘A man must be made of iron,’ cried the Marshal, ‘to stand such privations! There are such things as physical impossibilities; there is a limit to human endurance, and that limit we have long since passed!’”

Ney was made of very different metal. When Napoleon refused to let him have the Guards for a final attack in the plains of Borodino, he did not hesitate to proclaim aloud, that “if the Emperor is tired of fighting, let him take his d——d way to the Tuileries, and leave us to do what is necessary.”

Amid the universal despair and confusion of the retreat, Ney proved himself not only the “bravest of the brave,” as he had always been, but an obedient and efficient officer—he was the true hero of the retreat of the Grande ArmÉe. Of a remarkably strong constitution, Ney was a man of action, not of sentiment. Highly characteristic was his answer to a wounded man who besought him to save him. “What would you have me do?” said he. “You are but one of the victims of the war—voilÀ tout!” When Ney was told of the death of the young de Noailles, he answered, without moving a muscle—“Well, well, his turn has come; it is better that we should lament his death than that he should lament ours.” The following incident is equally characteristic of the man. At Smolensk Ney was abandoned by Marshal Davout, and lost almost all his troops, artillery, and baggage. When, by circuitous roads, through bogs and forests, he overtook Napoleon with a handful of men, and the Duke of EckmÜhl began to excuse his conduct, Ney merely replied—“I have not accused your Grace of anything. God sees us, and He is your Judge.”

“Ney saw,” says SÉgur, “that some one must bear the brunt of the retreat, and of his own free will he accepted the post of danger, undertaking to cover the rear of the army.”

“The Russians were advancing,” says an eye-witness of one engagement, “under cover of the forest and of the wagons we had abandoned, and firing on Ney’s troops with great effect. The latter were on the point of taking to flight when the Marshal seized a rifle, rushed up, and led them into action. He replied to the Russian fire with as little concern for his own safety as if he did not know what it was to be a father and a husband, wealthy, noble, and respected. Although playing the part of a private soldier he did not cease to be a general. Taking advantage of the ground, he made full use of the cover afforded by hills and houses. In this way he secured for the army a respite of twenty-four hours. On the two following days he displayed the same heroism; from Viazma to Smolensk he was fighting for ten days without a break.”

Military history probably furnishes few instances in which a commander has extricated himself from so difficult a position as that in which Ney found himself when, as we have already said, he was abandoned by Davout on the road from Smolensk to Krasnoye. The rear-guard of the Grande ArmÉe was caught in a trap; Dorogomilovsky’s forces lay across the road and on either flank, so that it was absolutely impossible to pass. Ney, however, could not bring himself to yield, and did his best to cut his way through. Again and again he led his exhausted troops against the enemy’s bayonets; but musketry volleys and the fire of 40 guns at a range of 250 paces could not fail of their effect. At last the greater portion of the French division, consisting of 12,000 men, surrendered, and all their artillery, 27 guns, baggage, etc., passed into the hands of the enemy. Marshal Ney, however, was not one of the prisoners. He took advantage of the darkness to escape with 3000 men, who readily followed him.

The means which he employed to effect his escape were perhaps not quite legitimate. The Marshal detained the officer who came from General Dorogomilovsky with an offer of surrender, and while he was awaiting a final answer, slipped away, first in the direction of Smolensk, and then by a circuitous flank march to Orcha.

The details of this retreat and final escape have an air rather of romance than of stern fact. The boldness with which the operation was conceived and executed is nothing less than astounding. “The eyes of every man in the little detachment that slipped so quietly out of the hands of the Russians,” says Fezensac, “were turned towards the Marshal. He showed no trace of anxiety or irresolution, but no one dared to question him. Ney said to one of his staff-officers who was standing by—

“Nous ne sommes pas bien.”

“Qu’allez vous faire?” asked the officer.

“Passer le DniÉper.”

“OÙ est le chemin?”

“Nous le trouverons.”

“Et s’il n’est pas gelÉ?”

“Il le sera.”

It was as he said. The fugitives came upon a lame peasant who served them as a guide. The ice was only just strong enough to bear. Nevertheless, most of the troops got across safely after abandoning all their baggage. The Cossacks started in pursuit the following day, but in forty-eight hours Ney made his way by river and forest, after much fighting, to the town of Orcha.

It is said that when Napoleon heard of Ney’s arrival, he exclaimed with delight—“I have 200,000,000 francs stored in the cellars of the Tuileries. I would willingly give them all to save such a man as Ney.”

However brilliant Ney’s movements at the battle of Krasnoye may have been, it is impossible to read Napoleon’s account of the engagement, in Despatch XXIX., without a smile. With the most ludicrous perversity Napoleon represents the Marshal as victorious.

General Dumas says that after crossing the frontier, he was one day taking coffee at an hotel in Gumbinen, when a stranger entered. He was dressed in a dark overcoat, and wore a long beard. His face was blackened as if it had been burned, and his eyes were bloodshot. “Here I am at last!” he said. “Why, General Dumas, don’t you know me?”

“No. Who are you?”

“I am the rear-guard of the Grande ArmÉe—Marshal Ney.”

Silently corrected typographical errors and inconsistencies; retained non-standard spelling.