The Campaign of Saxony in 1813.—Reflections.—Analysis.—Battles of Lutzen and Wurtzen.—Negotiations.—Battles of Dresden, Leipsic, Hanau, &c

Sept. 2.—To-day there was some horse-racing at the camp, at which one of the Emperor’s suite was present.

The Emperor did not go out until late, and he walked to the calash. The wind blew very hard, and he renounced his intention of taking a drive. He sat down beneath the tent: but, finding it not very pleasant without doors, he retired to his library, where he took up the Letters of Madame de Chateauroux, looked through the Expedition to Bohemia, and analysed the Life of Marshal de Belle-Isle. He again went out to take a walk in the garden; but he returned almost immediately, and directed me to follow him.

He took up a book relating to our last campaigns, and, after perusing it for some time, he threw it down, saying, “It is a downright rhapsody—a mere tissue of contradictions and absurdities.” He conversed for a considerable time on the two celebrated campaigns of Saxony: his observations were principally moral, and few or none military; I noted down the following as the most remarkable: “That memorable campaign,” said he, “will be regarded as the triumph of courage in the youth of France; of intrigue and cunning in English diplomacy; of intelligence on the part of the Russians; and of effrontery in the Austrian Cabinet. It will mark the period of the disorganization of political societies, the great separation of subjects from their Sovereigns; finally, the decay of the first military virtues—fidelity, loyalty, and honour. In vain people may write and comment, invent falsehoods and suppositions; to this odious and mortifying result we must all come at last: time will develop both its truth and its consequences.

“But it is a remarkable circumstance, in this case, that all discredit is equally removed from sovereigns, soldiers, and people. It was entirely the work of a few military intriguers and headlong politicians, who, under the specious pretext of shaking off the foreign yoke and recovering the national independence, purposely sold their own rulers to envious rival Cabinets. The results soon became manifest: the King of Saxony lost half his dominions, and the King of Bavaria was compelled to make valuable restitutions. What did the traitors care for that? They enjoyed their rewards and their wealth, and those who had proved themselves most upright and innocent were visited with the severest punishment. The King of Saxony, the most honest man who ever wielded a sceptre, was stripped of half his territories; and the King of Denmark, so faithful to all his engagements, was deprived of a crown! This, however, was affirmed to be the restoration and the triumph of morality!... Such is the distributive justice of this world!...

“To the honour of human nature, and even to the honour of Kings, I must once more declare that never was more virtue manifested than amidst the baseness which marked this period. I never for a moment had cause to complain individually of the Princes our allies. The good King of Saxony continued faithful to the last; the King of Bavaria loyally avowed to me that he was no longer his own master; the generosity of the King of Würtemburg was particularly remarkable; the Prince of Baden yielded only to force, and in the very last extremity. All, I must render them this justice, gave me due notice of the storm that was gathering, in order that I might take the necessary precautions. But, on the other hand, how odious was the conduct of subaltern agents! Military history will never obliterate the infamy of the Saxons, who returned to our ranks for the purpose of destroying us! Their treachery became proverbial among the troops, who still use the term Saxonner to designate the act of a soldier who assassinates another. To crown all, it was a Frenchman, a man for whom French blood purchased a crown, a nursling of France, who gave the finishing stroke to our disasters! Gracious God!

“But in the situation in which I was placed, the circumstance which served to fill up the measure of my distress was that I beheld the decisive hour gradually approach. The star paled; I felt the reins slip from my hands, and yet I could do nothing. Only a sudden turn of fortune could save us: to treat, to conclude any compact, would have been to yield like a fool to the enemy. I was convinced of this, and the event sufficiently proved that I was not mistaken. We had, therefore, no alternative but to fight; and every day, by some fatality or other, our chances diminished. Treason began to penetrate into our ranks. Great numbers of our troops sunk under the effects of fatigue and discouragement. My lieutenants became dispirited, and, consequently, unfortunate. They were no longer the same men who figured at the commencement of the Revolution, or who had distinguished themselves in the brilliant moments of my success. I have been informed that some presumed to allege, in their defence, that at first they fought for the Republic and for their country; while afterwards they fought only for a single man, for his individual interests, and his ambition.

“Base subterfuge! Ask the young and brave soldiers, and the officers of intermediate rank in the French army, whether such a calculation ever entered their thoughts;—whether they ever saw before them any thing but the enemy, or behind them any thing save the honour, glory, and triumph of France! These men never fought better than at the period alluded to. Why dissemble? Why not make a candid avowal? The truth is that, generally speaking, the officers of high rank had gained every object of their ambition. They were sated with wealth and honours. They had drunk of the cup of pleasure, and they henceforth wished for repose, which they would have purchased at any price. The sacred flame was extinguished; they were willing to sink to the level of Louis XV.’s marshals.”

If the words above quoted require any comment—if the sense here, or in other similar passages of my Journal, should be found to be incomplete, I must not be held responsible. I have literally noted down what Napoleon uttered, and I am accountable for nothing more. I have already several times mentioned that, when the Emperor spoke, I never ventured to interrupt him by questions or remarks. On the subject of the celebrated campaign of 1813, I may mention that, from various detached conversations of Napoleon, which I have not noted down at the time when they occurred, he was far from being deceived as to the crisis which threatened France, and he correctly estimated the full extent of the risk by which he was surrounded in the opening of the campaign. Ever since his return from Moscow, he had seen the danger, he said, and endeavoured to avert it. From that moment he resolved on making the greatest sacrifices; but the choice of the proper moment for proclaiming these sacrifices was the difficult point, and that which chiefly occupied his consideration. If the influence of material power be great, he said, the power of opinion is still greater; it is magical in its effects. His object was to preserve it; and a false step, a word inadvertently uttered, might for ever have destroyed the illusion. He found it indispensable to exert the greatest circumspection, and to manifest the utmost apparent confidence in his own strength. It was, above all, necessary to look forward to the future.

His great fault, his fundamental error, was in supposing that his adversaries always had as much judgment and knowledge of their own interests, as he himself possessed. From the first, he said, he suspected that Austria would avail herself of the difficulties in which he was placed, in order to secure great advantages to herself; but he never could have believed that the Monarch was so blind, or his advisers so treacherous as to wish to bring about his (Napoleon’s) downfall, and thereby leave their own country henceforth at the mercy of the uncontrolled power of Russia. The Emperor pursued the same train of reasoning with regard to the Confederation of the Rhine, which, he admitted, might, perhaps, have cause to be dissatisfied with him; but which, he concluded, must dread still more the idea of falling under the power of Austria and Prussia. Napoleon conceived that the same arguments were not inapplicable to Prussia; which, he presumed, could not wish entirely to destroy a counterpoise, that was necessary to her independence, and her very existence. Napoleon made full allowance for the hatred of his enemies, and for the dissatisfaction and malevolence which, perhaps, existed among his allies; but he could not suppose that either wished for his destruction, since he felt himself to be so necessary to all; and he acted accordingly. Such was Napoleon’s ruling idea throughout the whole of this important period. It was the key of his whole conduct to the very last hour, and even to the moment of his fall. It must be carefully borne in mind, for it serves to explain many things, perhaps, all;—his hostile attitude, his haughty language, his refusal to treat, his determination to fight, &c.

If he should be successful, he thought he could then make honourable sacrifices, and a glorious peace; while the illusion of his superiority would remain undiminished. If, on the contrary, he should experience reverses, it would still be time enough to make concessions; and he concluded that the interest of the Austrians and all true Germans must secure him the support of their arms or of their diplomacy; for he supposed they were convinced, as he himself was, that his power had henceforth become indispensable to the structure, repose, security, and existence of Europe. But that of which he had reason to doubt proved most prosperous: victory continued faithful to him; his first successes were admirable, and almost incredible. On the other hand, that which he believed to be infallible was precisely what failed him:—his natural allies betrayed him, and hastened his downfall.

In support of what I have just alleged, and with the view of throwing light on the Emperor’s remarks above quoted, I shall here insert a brief recapitulation of the events of that fatal campaign. In France, at the time, we were made acquainted only with its results; the bulletins gave us but little information, and we received no foreign publications. Besides, the period is now distant, and so many important events have since occurred to occupy public attention, that these details may be partly forgotten by those who once knew them. They are here arranged in chronological order.

I extract this recapitulation from a work written by M. de Montveran, which was published in 1820. The author has bestowed great care on the collection of official and authentic documents; and he has availed himself of the information furnished by preceding writers. I am, therefore, of opinion, that this work is, unquestionably, the best that has been written on the subject. M. de Montveran is far from being favourable to Napoleon; however, it is but just to admit that he maintains a tone of impartiality which does credit to his character, while, at the same time, it enhances the merit of his work.

“On the 2nd of May, Napoleon opened the campaign of Saxony by the victory of Lützen, a most surprising event, and one which reflects immortal honour on the conquerors. A newly embodied army, without cavalry, marched to face the veteran bands of Russia and Prussia; but the genius of the Chief, and the valour of the young troops whom he commanded, made amends for all. The French had no cavalry; but bodies of infantry advanced in squares, flanked by an immense mass of artillery, presenting the appearance of so many moving fortresses. Eighty-four thousand infantry, consisting of French troops, or troops of the Confederation, with only 4,000 cavalry, beat 107,000 Russians or PrussiansPrussians with more than 20,000 cavalry. Alexander and the King of Prussia witnessed the conflict in person. Their celebrated guards could not maintain their ground against our young conscripts. The enemy lost 18,000 men; our loss amounted to 12,000, and our want of cavalry prevented us from reaping the usual fruit of our conquests. However, the moral result of the victory was immense. The enthusiasm of our troops resumed its ascendency, and the Emperor recovered the full influence of opinion. The Allies retreated before him without venturing the chances of another battle.

“On the 9th, Napoleon entered Dresden as a conqueror, conducting back to his capital the King of Saxony, who, from the consciousness of his own interests, as well as the wish to remain faithful to his engagements, had retired on the approach of the Allies, whose proposals he had constantly rejected.

“On the 21st and 22d, Napoleon again triumphed at Würtzen and Bautzen. The Allies had chosen their ground, which the brilliant campaigns of Frederick had rendered classic. They had intrenched themselves, and they thought their position impregnable: but every thing yielded to the grand views and well-conducted plans of the French general who, at the very commencement of the conflict, declared himself to be certain of the victory.

“The Allies lost 18,000 or 20,000 men. They were unable to retain their position, and they retired in disorder. The Emperor pursued them. He had already passed through Lusatia, crossed Silesia, and reached the Oder, when the Allies demanded an armistice to treat for peace; and Napoleon, thinking the favourable moment had arrived, granted it.

“On the 4th of June, the armistice of Pleissvitz was concluded. This event had the most decisive influence in producing our misfortunes; it was the fatal knot to which were attached all the chances and destinies of the campaign.

“Should the Emperor have granted this armistice, or have followed up his advantages? This was, at the moment, a problem which time, and the events that have proved so fatal to us, solved when too late. The Emperor, crowned with victory, halted before his fallen enemies, to whom he could now make concessions without compromising his dignity; his sacrifices could be regarded only as moderation. Austria, hitherto uncertain as to what course she should pursue, struck with our success, rejoined us. Napoleon now reasonably hoped to see the ratification of a peace which he wished for, and he would not let slip so favourable an opportunity, to run the risk of a check that might have lost all, and which was the more likely to take place since his army had marched forward in haste and in the utmost disorder, and his rear was uncovered and harassed by the enemy. He conceived that the armistice, at all events, afforded him an opportunity of concentrating and organizing his forces, and opening his communications with France, by which means he should be enabled to receive immense reinforcements, and to create a corps of cavalry.”

Unfortunately, in spite of all the Emperor’s calculations, this fatal armistice proved advantageous only to our enemies: it was maintained for nearly three months, and it served only to bring about their triumph and our destruction. Austria, who was still our ally, by a deception, which history will justly characterize, availed herself of that title to oppose us with the greater advantage. Requiring delay, she obtained it. The Russians, who were waiting for reinforcements, received them; the Prussians doubled their numbers; the English subsidies arrived, and the Swedish army rejoined. Secret associations were set on foot; a general insurrection of the whole German population was excited; while, at the same time, the defection of the Cabinets of the Rhenish Confederation, and the corruption of the Allied officers, were effected. Treason also began to creep into the superior ranks. General Jomini, the Chief of the Staff of one of our army corps, went over to the enemy with all the information he had been able to collect respecting the plans of the campaign, &c.

The result sufficiently proved to the Emperor all the errors of the armistice, and convinced him that he would have done better had he persisted in pressing forward; for had he continued successful, the Allies, alarmed at finding themselves deprived of the aid of Austria, with whom they could no longer have maintained intelligence, cut off from the Prince of Sweden, who would have remained behind, seeing blockades of the fortresses of the Oder raised, and the war carried back to Poland, to the gates of Dantzick, amidst a people ready to rise in a mass—the Allies, I say, would infallibly have treated. If, on the other hand, we had sustained a reverse, the consequences could not have been more fatal than those which were actually experienced. The judicious calculations of the Emperor ruined him: that which seemed to be indiscretion and temerity would probably have saved him.