The Fields of Death - Scarrow Simon - Страница 76

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The air was still and a few swifts darted low over the trampled grass, sweeping up the first of the day’s insects. Most of the soldiers of both sides stood in sombre silence. A few had got hold of some spirits and attempted to raise a cheer or start some singing, but the sounds soon died away. Napoleon had given orders for the French bands to advance to the first rank, ready to strike up some rousing tunes when the attack began.

Berthier glanced down at his watch and coughed. ‘It’s time, sire.’

‘Give the order.’

Berthier turned to the waiting artillery lieutenant and nodded. The gunner cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted towards the headquarters signal gun. ‘Fire!’

The sergeant in command of the gun leaned forward to apply the portfire to the fuse. Sparks sputtered momentarily and then the barrel shimmered as a long tongue of flame leaped from the muzzle, followed at once by a swirling cloud of powder smoke and a detonation like a thunderclap. There was a short delay and then the first of the batteries opened up with a roar. The others fired moments later and soon the sound was almost continuous as it carried back to the church tower of Schivardino where Napoleon and Berthier had climbed to look out over the battlefield.

On the slopes of the Russian position the heavy iron shot ploughed into the earthworks, kicking up spouts of loose soil. Some shots struck the embrasures, loosening the wicker fascines that sheltered the gun crews beyond. The Russian guns started to return fire and quickly began to score hits on the unprotected French artillerymen. Napoleon saw a gun carriage shatter, the timber spraying splinters all around and felling the six men either side of the weapon. Soon, the batteries of both sides were shrouded in thick smoke and they were firing blind.

To the continuous roar of the cannon was added a new sound: the sharp rattle of drums sounding the pas-de-charge as the French infantry began to advance along the entire length of the line. To the north Napoleon could see the dark blocks of men from Eugиne’s corps converging on Borodino, on the far side of the Kalatsha. In front of him the leading divisions of Ney and Davout had started up the slopes. Ahead of them advanced the voltigeurs, taking shots at the Russian skirmishers falling back towards the main Russian line.

The batteries in the redoubts ceased firing on the French guns and reloaded with case shot before switching their aim to the dense lines of infantry climbing up towards them. A moment later the first blasts of iron shot ripped through the leading French formations, striking down several men at a time. The fire from the Russian cannon intensified and the infantry hunched down as their officers waved them forward and the drums continued to beat, frantically urging the soldiers on into the hail of destruction sweeping the slopes.

From the church tower Napoleon and Berthier watched the attack’s progress through their telescopes, until Ney and Davout’s men had passed into the gently rolling banks of smoke surrounding the redoubts and out of sight. Below the smoke they could now see hundreds of blue-coated bodies flecking the slope. Napoleon took a deep breath and snapped his telescope shut.

‘Come, there’s little to see here. We can follow the battle better from downstairs.’ He led the way down into the nave of the church, which had been cleared to make way for the imperial staff. A map table had been set up and a handful of junior officers were busy tracking the movements of the army using small blocks of coloured wood as messengers hurried in and out of the entrance bearing hastily written despatches.

Despite the familiar anxiety and excitement whenever he was involved in a battle, the fatigue and illness of recent days weighed heavily on Napoleon. He slumped down on a small bench set into an alcove along the wall of the nave and rested his head in his hands. Outside the thunder of guns continued, and the concussion could be felt even where he sat. An hour after the attack began Berthier came up to him.

‘Sire, there are reports from all corps now.’

‘Well?’

‘Prince Eugиne has taken Borodino and has sent a division across the river to take the Gorki Heights.’

‘No.’ Napoleon looked up. ‘One division is not enough. He must support it, or have them fall back.’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘What else?’

‘Davout is attacking the two earthworks to the right of the village of Semenowska. Once they are taken he will turn and attack the largest redoubt on the other side of the village.’

‘Good. And what of Prince Poniatowski?’

‘He has taken Utitsa, sire. However, he reports that there are a large number of enemy infantry and some guns in the woods close to the town. He is sending skirmishers forward to drive them out.’

Napoleon nodded. So far all was going to plan. Once Davout had control of Semenowska and the redoubts he could wheel to the left and drive the Russians back against the river. He glanced at Berthier. ‘What have we lost?’

‘First reports say that the leading formations have suffered badly. One of Davout’s divisions has been cut to pieces and the survivors have fallen back.’

Napoleon pursed his lips. He had expected to lose many men; their sacrifice would be worthwhile if the Russian army were destroyed. ‘Very well, Berthier. Notify me of any further developments.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Berthier bowed and turned to hurry back to re-join his aides. Napoleon thought about ascending the tower again, but there was little point. The smoke would obscure his vision. He was not well enough to mount his horse and ride forward, so he would have to follow the battle on the map. He sat in the nave and waited. An hour later there was a fresh flurry of reports and Berthier read through them with a concerned expression before he approached the Emperor again.

‘The Russians have counter-attacked, sire. Eugиne’s division has been driven from the Heights, and Davout has lost control of Semenowska. He has re-formed his men and is preparing for another assault, with Ney in support. Poniatowski has been halted just beyond Utitsa. The Russians have hundreds of guns covering the road.’

‘Very well. Tell Murat to have one of his cavalry corps ready to support Davout, and order Eugиne to send three of his divisions across the river to attack the main redoubt.’

As the next hour passed sporadic reports continued to reach imperial headquarters. The fighting around the Russian centre sucked in more and more of Davout’s and Ney’s men. Several of the French generals were lost, and Davout was injured, but he had the wound dressed quickly so that he could continue to lead his men. Still, the Russians held on to the village of Semenowska and the earthworks. Before the third hour of the battle had passed Napoleon was obliged to send Junot’s reserve corps forward to support the attack. Every formation was now committed to the battle, with the exception of the twenty-five thousand men of the Imperial Guard, drawn up on a knoll a short distance from the church.

Napoleon picked up his telescope and gathering his strength he climbed back into the tower to try to gauge the progess of the latest attack on the Russian centre. The entire strength of three infantry corps together with ten thousand horsemen pressed forward, supported by two hundred and fifty cannon. The enemy had also concentrated their artillery in the centre, and more guns savaged the French flank from the largest redoubt. The hills opposite the church were now heaped with bodies and a steady stream of walking wounded limped down the slope to escape the maelstrom of cannon and musket fire around Semenowska and the two smaller earthworks. Slowly, the smoke cleared from the Russian centre and Napoleon realised that the enemy were starting to give ground. Now was the time for the cavalry to push forward and break the Russian line.

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