In that dramatic fashion the battle of Dürrenstein reached its close. The Russians fell back under cover of the night, retreating up the lateral valley-pass, by which way at the outset they had worked their way round, guided by the Austrian general, Schmidt, to surprise and cut off Gazan’s division.
Napoleon, in his great relief at learning that Mortier had come through without disaster, for once blamed nobody. He knew that he himself was most of all to blame, for exposing to sudden attack a comparatively weak detachment of his army in the face of an enemy still full of fight, on the farther side of a deep and rapid river. “It seemed,” in Marbot’s words, “as if no explanation of this operation beyond the Danube satisfactory to military men being possible, there was a desire to hush up its consequences.”
BY WAY OF COVERING THE BLUNDER
By way of covering up his own glaring blunder Napoleon heaped praises on the troops engaged. He expressed unbounded admiration at the stand they had made. In the 22nd “Bulletin of the Grand Army,” issued from Schönbrunn, near Vienna, two days later, the Emperor declared that “le combat de Dürrenstein sera à jamais mémorable dans les annales militaires.” Gazan, he said, had shown “beaucoup de valeur et de conduite.” The 4me and 9me Légère and the 32nd and 100th of the Line, wrote Napoleon, “se sont couverts de gloire.”
CHAPTER IV
ON THE FIELD OF AUSTERLITZ
Austerlitz, the crowning triumph of the First War of the Grand Army, set its cachet to the fame of the Eagles.
Napoleon there lured the enemy on into attacking him at apparent disadvantage on ground of his own choosing. Then, availing himself to the fullest extent of the flagrant blundering of his assailants, he struck at them with a smashing, knock-down blow from the shoulder.
LURED ON TO MEET THEIR FATE
By making believe that his army was separated in detachments, out of touch, and beyond possibility of early concentration, and causing it to appear further that he had become alarmed for his own safety and was on the point of commencing a retreat, he decoyed them into a false move. He tempted the Czar Alexander, whose main force had arrived within a few miles of Vienna, and was confronting him, into making a rash manœuvre designed to cut his line of communications and defeat him before the second Austrian army in the field, under the Archduke Charles, hastening from the Italian frontier to join hands with the Russians, could reach the scene. In the confident belief that by themselves they outnumbered Napoleon at the critical point by two to one, with nearly 90,000 men to 40,000, the Russians made a risky flank march to interpose between Napoleon and his base, and drive him in rout into the wilds of Bohemia. They began their advance suddenly, on Thursday, November 2, but immediately afterwards wasted two days through faulty leadership. Before they could get within striking distance of Napoleon he had called in his detached corps and had massed 70,000 men at the point of danger. Foreseeing the possibility of the enemy’s move, his apparent disposal of the various corps had been elaborately arranged so as to ensure concentration at short notice in case of emergency.
From hour to hour during Sunday, December 1, the Russian army in dense columns streamed past within six miles of the French position in full view of Napoleon, all marching forward in stolid silence, intent only on getting between Napoleon and Vienna. No counter-move meanwhile was made from the French side. Strict orders were sent to the outposts that not a shot was to be fired. But by the early afternoon all was ready for action. Completely seeing through the enemy’s plans, Napoleon exclaimed in a tone of absolute confidence: “Before to-morrow night that army is mine!”