Fire and Sword (37 page)
Authors: Simon Scarrow
‘Sire, I have come from Marshal Davout.’
‘I know that.’ Napoleon waved a hand dismissively. ‘Make your report. Wait, who are you?’
‘Captain Tobriant, of Marshal Davout’s staff, sire.’
‘Very well, Tobriant. What news from Davout? Did he manage to contain the enemy’s flank guard?’
‘Flank guard?’ Captain Tobriant looked surprised. ‘Sire, I don’t think you understand. Marshal Davout begs to inform you that he met with the main body of the Prussian army on the Auerstadt road and defeated it today.’
Chapter 23
Napoleon stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. ‘What nonsense is this? The main Prussian army fought us here at Jena.’
Captain Tobriant’s exultant expression faded. ‘Sire, Marshal Davout estimates that his corps faced more than sixty thousand Prussians today.’
‘Sixty thousand?’ Napoleon laughed. ‘Impossible! How could Davout have defeated so many? Why, that would mean he was outnumbered by more than two to one.’
‘Yes, sire. That’s right.’ Tobriant nodded, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim despatch. ‘His report, sire.’
Napoleon took the document and hurriedly broke the seal, unfolded it and read through the briefly recounted details. Then he lowered the report and glanced up at Tobriant. ‘This can’t be true.Your commander is seeing double. He could not possibly have overcome such odds. The real battle was here. The victory is mine. Mine. Davout’s fight was merely a flank action. Does he think he can usurp my glory?’
Captain Tobriant opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it as he made his reply. ‘Sire, you have Marshal Davout’s report. I can only say that I witnessed the battle from his headquarters, close enough to the fighting to be wounded by a spent musket ball. I know what I saw, sire, and Marshal Davout speaks the truth.’
‘Then he must be a fool,’ Napoleon snapped. ‘You return to him at once and tell him to present himself here first thing in the morning when he can make a more sober, and accurate, account of his . . . skirmish.’
‘Skirmish?’ Tobriant looked astonished for a moment before he recovered his composure. ‘I will go and report to him, sire.’
Napoleon dismissed Tobriant and entered the dining room, where he sat down at the long table. He called for his secretaries and ordered food to be brought to him.While he ate he dictated a despatch to be sent to Paris immediately to let France know of the great victory that had been won over the Prussians at Jena.Then there were orders to be written so that the army might take advantage of the situation and make a rapid advance on Berlin to end the war.As he dictated, the first of the detailed reports from Davout’s headquarters arrived. Reading the tally of enemy and French losses, as well as the description of the battle at Auerstadt, Napoleon began to wonder if he had judged Davout too hastily.
It had been some days since Napoleon had last slept well and towards midnight exhaustion finally got the better of him: he fell asleep, head cradled in his arms as he slumped over the table. Berthier waited a moment to see if he would stir, and then quietly rose up and fetched a thick coat from one of the pegs by the door and gently placed it over his shoulders as he began to snore.Then he ushered the secretaries from the room and, with a last glance at his master, followed them out and shut the door behind him.
Napoleon woke with a start as the first rays of the dawn filtered into the room.Tossing the coat aside he stood up and rolled his neck cautiously until the stiffness had worn out of his spine.Then he strode to the door and pulled it open.
‘Berthier!’ he called out into the corridor. Receiving no reply, he pointed at a passing staff officer. ‘You there! Where is Berthier?’
‘Sire, he has just retired to his room to rest.’
‘Then wake him up and send him to me at once.’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘And then have the latest reports from Davout and Bernadotte brought to me.’
The staff officer saluted and hurried away to do the Emperor’s bidding. By the time Berthier reached the room, bleary-eyed and dishevelled, Napoleon had read through most of the reports that had reached headquarters during the night. He lowered the steaming cup of coffee he had been drinking and tapped the sheaf of documents.
‘Have you seen these?’
Berthier twisted his head as he approached the table so that he might see the reports, and then nodded.‘The despatches from Marshal Davout. Yes, sire, I have read them.’
‘And what do you make of his claim to have defeated the main body of the enemy’s forces?’
Berthier was quiet for a moment as he tried to gauge the Emperor’s mood, and then spoke carefully.‘I have to say that I was sceptical at first, sire. But as I read more, it was clear that his assessment was backed by the reports sent in by his divisional commanders. It would appear that he is speaking the truth, sire.’
‘I see . . . So you believe that while nearly a hundred thousand men of the Grand Army were tied down here, taking on the enemy’s flank guard, Marshal Davout and his single corps attacked and defeated the main body of the Prussian army?’
‘That is what seems to have happened, sire. Based on those reports.’
‘Preposterous!’ Napoleon shoved the documents across the table in frustration. ‘It is not possible. Why, he even claims that he received no assistance from Bernadotte and his corps.’
‘Yes,’ Berthier said evenly. ‘If what he says is true, then Bernadotte disobeyed a direct order to march to Davout’s aid.That will require an investigation, sire.’
‘If it is true, then Bernadotte deserves to be court-martialled and shot,’ Napoleon decided. ‘Be that as it may, I cannot bring myself to believe the full extent of Davout’s claims. Why, if it were true, then he would have won a victory far greater than the one I achieved here yesterday. Is that not so?’
Berthier did not respond at once but raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly to one side as if he was considering a very complicated proposition.
Napoleon shook his head.‘No, the real victory was won here, at Jena. That is what people will say.’
‘Yes, sire. I imagine so.’
Napoleon eyed him coldly. ‘You imagine so?’
Berthier shifted uncomfortably but did not reply and Napoleon sighed with exasperation. He did not want to believe that one of his corps commanders had taken on the main Prussian army and won a victory that so clearly eclipsed his own. Yet all the evidence of the reports was that Davout had achieved precisely what he claimed to have done. There was no denying that the victory at Auerstadt was an astonishing achievement, and one that Napoleon could not help feeling a surge of jealousy over. Once word of Davout’s success spread through the army, and then across Europe, any attempt made by Napoleon to claim that the real glory was won on the field at Jena would be seen through at once as a petty attempt to outshine his subordinate. People would laugh at him, Napoleon reflected bitterly.There was no avoiding the painful humiliation that the true glory of the previous day belonged to Davout.Very well then, Napoleon resolved. He would be magnanimous and accord Marshal Davout the praise and recognition that was due. Besides, a show of respect for the man would be sure to play well with the rankers, and in the newspapers. By such gestures he would be seen to remain a man of the people, and not the petty despot and tyrant his enemies tried to depict him as.
Napoleon took a deep calming breath and eased himself back in his chair as he looked at Berthier. ‘Send Davout to me the moment he arrives.’>
‘Yes, sire.’
‘In the meantime, have the army newspapers prepare an article on the magnificent victory a handful of French soldiers achieved over an enemy army many times their strength. The writers are not to stint in their praise of Davout. You are to let them know that the Emperor himself pays his profound respect and gratitude to the marshal and adds his voice to the honour that the rest of the Grand Army bestows on Davout and his heroic men. Is that quite clear?’
Berthier nodded.
‘Then leave me. I must be shaved and properly dressed to receive France’s hero of the hour.’
Once Berthier had gone, Napoleon clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he indulged in a seething rage over the mistake he had made in assuming that he had attacked and defeated the main Prussian army at Jena.The reasons behind the ready success of the previous day were now apparent and the words of triumph he had penned for the newspapers in Paris the night before now mocked him. Napoleon hurriedly searched through the morning paperwork left on the table for his signature until he found the despatch announcing the victory at Jena. He glanced over the neatly transcribed paragraphs and then folded the letter and tore it in half, and then again and again until there was only a scattering of paper fragments on the table.
Marshal Davout arrived at headquarters as Napoleon was finishing his breakfast and the Emperor instantly rose to his feet and thrust his napkin aside as he smiled at his subordinate.
‘Marshal Davout, it is a pleasure to greet the victor of Auerstadt! Please, sit down and join me. Coffee? Something to eat?’
‘Thank you, sire. Coffee would be most welcome.’
Once Napoleon had ordered a clerk to bring refreshments for the marshal, he glanced over at his guest. Davout had ridden through the night, and had not slept for three days. A thick stubble encrusted his cheeks and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. He eased himself stiffly into the chair opposite the Emperor and smiled wearily. ‘May I offer my congratulations to you, sire, on your victory here at Jena?’
Napoleon laughed.‘Two triumphs in one day. Providence was surely shining on French arms yesterday.’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘So tell me, Davout. What happened? According to Murat’s scouts you should have been facing a small corps protecting the enemy flank.’
‘Even Marshal Murat makes mistakes from time to time, sire,’ Davout replied wryly and they both smiled before he collected his thoughts and continued. ‘I crossed the Saale ten miles along the river from here, in accordance with your orders, sire. I deemed it best to march on Apolda as quickly as possible in order to block any Prussian retreat from Jena. So I advanced with Gudin’s division and ordered the others to follow as swiftly as possible. We were over the Saale by dawn, and there was a dense fog covering the landscape.You must have had the same here.’
Napoleon nodded.
‘So we continued to advance and our cavalry patrols ran into enemy scouts. The prisoners told us that they belonged to Brunswick’s army. I doubted their word, as you can imagine, and continued advancing as far as the village of Hassenhausen, when the fog began to lift and we saw for the first time the Prussian army spread out before us. I sent word to you at once, sire, and also to Marshal Bernadotte to march his corps to support mine.There was very little time to do anything else before the Prussians attacked. Gudin’s men formed squares and held them off and they fell back.There was a delay while they prepared to attack again, but by now Friant’s division had reached the field and I could see that Brunswick would attempt to get round our right flank, so I sent Friant to the right and shifted Gudin’s centre in the same direction.’
‘What of your other flank?’ Napoleon asked sharply. ‘You can’t have left that unguarded, surely?’
‘No, sire. It was covered by one regiment.’
‘One regiment?’
‘It was all that could be spared, sire. Until the last of my divisions arrived,’ Davout explained. ‘The Prussians threw in a massive attack against our right, which we beat back with heavy losses on their part. But then they immediately advanced on our left, and broke the regiment I had left there. As soon as the right flank looked safe I rode across to the left, taking two of Gudin’s regiments, and rallied the broken regiment. We charged the enemy and drove them back and retook the village.’
‘You led the charge in person?’
Davout looked at him steadily. ‘Yes, sire. As I said, we needed every man who could hold a musket. There were no exceptions. I even had the men in the supply wagons armed and brought forward as a final reserve.’
Napoleon nodded approvingly, as he realised how desperate Davout’s situation had been. ‘What then?’
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