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Authors: Simon Scarrow

BOOK: The Fields of Death
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‘No. I already know my response,’ Napoleon said menacingly. ‘You can tell the Tsar that he will regret his insults, when I next see him in Russia. Now leave us.’
Kurakin bowed and left the room. Once the door was closed behind him Napoleon turned to his planning staff and cleared his throat.
‘We know precisely where we stand now, gentlemen. The Tsar has decided on war. Now we have to determine the best way to deliver one to him.’The officers chuckled.‘Back to work, gentlemen. There is much to do. Berthier!’
‘Yes, sire?’
‘You have the list of formation commanders? Then send word to them. I want to see them all, here, before they join their commands for the campaign. Given the scale of the task we are undertaking it would be well to ensure that they understand the part they must play.’
 
That evening Napoleon returned to his private quarters with his mind full of the myriad details of planning so vast a military enterprise. Together with Berthier, he had calculated the requirements of an army of over half a million men: the number he deemed necessary to ensure a decisive result. In addition to the men, there would be over eighty thousand cavalry mounts, nearly fifteen hundred cannon and eight thousand wagons to carry spare ammunition, powder, and sacks of biscuit and rice, all drawn by another two hundred thousand mules and oxen. Some fresh meat would be provided by the herds of cattle that were to be driven along in the wake of the army. Once they were eaten the army would start working its way through the oxen as the supplies in the wagons were exhausted. The need to scrape together every available soldier for the campaign meant that there would have to be another wave of conscripts taken on to defend France’s borders and garrison the reserve areas of the invading army.
Napoleon had dismissed his valet and was slipping into his sleeping gown when there was a gentle knock at the door that linked his quarters with those of the Empress.
‘Come in,’ he called.
The handle turned and the door swung in to reveal Marie-Louise in her nightgown. Her long light brown hair hung down across her shoulders and she smiled at him.
‘I had hoped to see you earlier. You said we could spend the evening together.’
‘I know.’ Napoleon crossed the room and took her hands.‘I am sorry. There is so much to do. Time is the one thing I will never conquer.’
He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and then kissed her again, on her lips. She was not as beautiful as some of the women he had bedded, but she was young, and had developed a certain fondness for the pleasures of the flesh once she had got over the anxiety of her first experience.
She responded to his kiss with urgency, folding her arms round his back and drawing him closer. They remained there by the door for a moment before Napoleon drew his head back and nodded towards his bed. ‘Over there. We’ll be more comfortable.’
She flashed a smile and let him lead her by the hand to the wide bed. Warming pans had recently been taken out and there was a comforting heat beneath the heavy covers. Napoleon lay on his back, head propped up on a bolster, his arm around her shoulder as she rested her head on his chest.
‘You have been planning for another war, I suppose,’ she said softly.
‘Yes.’
‘When will you be leaving Paris?’
‘In May. The campaign will start in June.’
There was a short silence before she spoke again.‘How long will you be gone, my dearest?’
‘Some months. If all goes to plan the Tsar will be defeated and we will have peace before winter arrives. Then the army returns to winter quarters in Poland, and I return to you.’
‘Make sure that you do,’ she replied, twisting her little finger into the curls of the small patch of hair on Napoleon’s chest. ‘I was thinking. Could I accompany you on campaign?’
‘No.’
‘Why? I know that many of your officers are accompanied by their wives.’
‘They are not in command of the army. I am. And I cannot afford to be distracted in any way until victory is mine.’ Napoleon reached his hand down over her shoulder, beneath the gown and on to the warm smoothness of her breast. ‘And you, my dear, are a terrible distraction.’
As she laughed lightly at the comment, Napoleon was already thinking that he might arrange for Marie Walewska to accompany the army, for the first part of the campaign at least. It was some time since he had enjoyed her charms and he felt his lust stirring. The Empress sensed his arousal and raised her head to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Not so exhausted by the work, then?’
Napoleon looked at her and smiled. ‘It seems not.’
‘Then let’s create another heir for the Emperor,’ she said mischievously.
Napoleon rolled over, on top of her, and began to nuzzle her neck. ‘You know, for a finely bred young woman, you have certain earthy tendencies.’ He pulled her gown open and continued to trace his lips down her shoulder and on to her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and giving it a tweak.
‘Yes!’ she gasped. ‘Do that again.’
Napoleon obliged, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile at the thought of returning to the arms of his Polish mistress. Fantasies of her would add a certain spice to his present experience, he decided, as he eased himself forward and entered Marie-Louise.
 
Two weeks later the planning room was filled with marshals and generals, dressed in their blue frock coats adorned with gold epaulettes and lace, and the ribbons, stars and medals they had been awarded. Some of the officers had already been in Paris, but many had been called from their commands to attend the meeting. Napoleon wore his favoured uniform of a colonel of the chasseurs of the Guard, without any decorations. Several tables had been pushed together to accommodate the large numbers in the room, and a map depicting the vast sprawl of territory between Warsaw and Moscow lay across them.
Napoleon regarded the officers carefully. These were the finest men in his army, seasoned by many years of hard campaigning. They had proved their courage, and their ability to inspire the men who served under them. He had little doubt of their personal loyalty to him: after all, in most cases they owed rank, title and fortune directly to their Emperor. Only two issues concerned him: the rivalry between some of his commanders and then the more worrying fact that they would be required to act independently due to the scale of the coming campaign. In the past he had led smaller armies directly, and over lesser expanses of land.
When the last of the officers had arrived, Napoleon nodded at the guardsmen on the door and they pulled the door closed behind them, standing guard to ensure that there would be no interruption or eavesdropping.
Napoleon rose to his feet and his officers fell silent. He waited a moment longer to end a greater sense of gravity to the occasion, and then began.
‘For some months now you will have been aware of the build-up of our forces in the east of Europe. It is well known that there are tensions between the empires of France and Russia and that both the Tsar and I have been engaged in spats of sabre-rattling. Well, the time has come to unsheathe the sword and thrust it into the heart of our enemy. Despite every effort that I have made to avoid war, the Tsar has been determined to force one upon me. I am sure you have all read the list of his demands, and I am certain that you share my sense of outrage that Alexander thinks he can humiliate me, you, and all of France. It is with reluctance that I am obliged to answer his demands with force, but nothing more can be gained from diplomacy, and the time has come to settle the question of which power commands Europe.’ Napoleon paused to let his senior officers take stock of his opening words, then continued, ‘You have all served me before, so you will know that I believe in seizing the initiative. Therefore we are obliged to invade Russia. As ever, our aim is to find, fix and destroy the enemy’s field armies and thereby compel Alexander to sue for peace. Then we will make him eat his demands,’ Napoleon added with relish. ‘By the time the invasion begins we shall be able to field over six hundred thousand men, half of whom will be French.’
The officers looked at each other in astonishment. They had known about the build-up of forces, but this was the first time that they had been given the number of soldiers involved. Three times the size of any army that Napoleon had ever commanded before.
Marshal Davout raised a hand.
Napoleon nodded at him. ‘Speak, Davout.’
‘Have we accurate intelligence on the size of the Tsar’s armies, sire?’
‘Our agents report that Russia has somewhere in the order of four hundred thousand men under arms. However, many are deployed in garrisons spread across his lands. Only two hundred thousand will be standing between us and Moscow. At present they are divided into two armies. The main army, a hundred and fifty thousand men, under the command of General Barclay de Tolly, is presently dispersed between Riga and the Niemen river. The second army, under General Bagration, is to the south of the Pripet marshes.’ Napoleon lifted the long cane that lay on the table and indicated the vast sprawl of wetlands, small lakes and swampy forests that stretched across the middle of the western expanse of Russia. ‘Our primary target is the northern army. We will need to force them to fight before Bagration can march his men to join them. Once the northern army is crushed, we will deal with Bagration. When that is done, the Tsar will have no choice but to admit defeat.’
Prince Jérôme spoke up. ‘Surely if we have six hundred thousand to their two hundred thousand, then we could face their combined army and still win easily. Why not encourage them to link up? It would surely shorten the campaign and make our task easier, sire.’
Napoleon looked at his younger brother and forced himself to respond patiently.‘Look at the map again. It is seven hundred miles from Warsaw to Moscow. The reason why I need so vast an army is because we will need to leave tens of thousands of men in our wake just to protect our lines of communication back to Warsaw. We can also count on losing more men along the route, due to injury and sickness. By the time we force the Russians to fight the chances are that we will only have a small advantage in numbers. That is why we must do all that we can to defeat them in detail. Is that clear, Jérôme?’
‘Perfectly, sire.’ Jérôme smiled. ‘Though I am certain that we can defeat those Russian peasants, even if they outnumber us.’
‘Oho!’ Marshal Ney snorted, sitting opposite Jérôme. ‘And do tell us why that is.’
‘Certainly. I have heard that the Russian soldiers are little more than dumb brutes, conscripted from their farms. Their officers are drunkards and imbeciles. How can such a rabble stand before the might of France?’
‘You were not at Eylau, were you, boy?’
‘As you well know.’
‘Then you have never faced the Russian soldiers. I have, like many others in this room who were also at Eylau. Yes, some of them were roaring drunk, but drunk or not, they feared nothing and fought like bears and died like men I would have been proud to command.’ Ney leaned back and regarded Jérôme with a hard smile. ‘So before you come over all cocksure, it would be as well to know of what you speak.’
Jérôme flushed angrily and leaned forward to reply, but Napoleon cut him short. ‘That’s enough!’ He glared at both men for a moment, then took a deep breath and continued the briefing. ‘My intention is to destroy each army in turn. We will make every effort to keep Barclay de Tolly and Bagration apart. That means that we will need to manoeuvre as swiftly as possible. However, due to the sparse population of the steppes, it is doubtful that we can resort to our usual practice of living off the land. That is why I have ordered the build-up of rations at our forward supply depots, and gathered the wagons necessary to carry the rations with us from there. Once we are over the Niemen, we can feed our army for twenty-four days on the march. With such resources we shall devour all distances. Within that time I aim to have defeated both armies.’ Napoleon rested the stick against his shoulder. ‘Any questions? Davout, you look as if you have something else to say.’
The marshal nodded. ‘Sire, what if the enemy decide to trade space for time? Look at the map. They could fall back for months before they risked exposing Moscow, or even St Petersburg. Our rations would have expired long before then, and if there isn’t much to be had by foraging, then the army might well starve before it ever reached the battlefield. And there’s something else that concerns me. We both know the appalling conditions of the roads in Poland. It would seem reasonable to assume that the roads in Russia will be as bad, if not worse. If that is so then we can expect to lose a high percentage of our supply vehicles due to broken wheels and axles. I know they can be repaired, but the key point is they will be delayed. I fear that our supply convoys will start to fall behind our soldiers in a matter of days. Once that happens, then our ranks will start to thin out, slowly at first, and then more and more swiftly the further we advance.’
When Davout finished, the other officers remained silent. No one sought to contradict him and Napoleon felt his anger rise at the lack of confidence Davout had inspired amongst his peers.
‘Thank you, Davout. Your concerns are duly noted. However, I can assure you that no army has been better prepared for such a campaign.’

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