The plan promised well, provided that his men were walking machines, and that Schwarzenberg did nothing in the interval. But gradually the truth dawns on him that, while he sits weaving plans and dictating despatches—he sent off six in the small hours of October 12th—Blücher and Schwarzenberg are drawing near to Leipzig. On that day he prepared to fall back on that city, a resolve strengthened on the morrow by the capture of one of the enemy's envoys, who reported that they had great hopes of detaching Bavaria from the French cause.
The news was correct. Five days earlier, the King of Bavaria had come to terms with Austria, offering to place 36,000 troops at her disposal, while she, in return, guaranteed his complete sovereignty and a full territorial indemnity for any districts that he might be called on to restore to the Hapsburgs.[371] Napoleon knew not as yet the full import of the news, and it is quite incorrect to allege, as some heedless admirers have done, that this was the only thing that stayed his conquering march northwards.[372] His retreat to Leipzig was arranged before he heard the first rumour as to Bavaria's defection. But the tidings saddened his men on their miry march southwards; and, strange to say, the Emperor published it to all his troops at Leipzig on the 15th, giving it as the cause why they were about to fall back on the Rhine.
There was much to depress the Emperor when, on the 14th, he drew near to Leipzig. With him came the King and Queen of Saxony, who during the last days had resignedly moved along in the tail of this comet, which had blasted their once smiling realm. Outside the city they parted, the royal pair seeking shelter under its roofs, while the Emperor pressed on to Murat's headquarters near Wachau. There, too the news was doubtful. The King of Naples had not, on that day, shown his old prowess. Though he disposed of larger masses of horsemen than those which the allies sent out to reconnoitre, he chose his ground of attack badly, and led his brigades in so loose an array that, after long swayings to and fro, the fight closed with advantage to the allies.[373] It was not without reason that Napoleon on that night received his Marshals rather coolly at his modest quarters in the village of Reudnitz. Leaning against the stove, he ran over several names of those who were now slack in their duty; and when Augereau was announced, he remarked that he was not the Augereau of Castiglione. "Ah! give me back the old soldiers of Italy, and I will show you that I am," retorted the testy veteran.
As a matter of fact, Napoleon was not the old Napoleon, not even the Napoleon of Dresden. There he had overwhelmed the foe by a rapid concentration. Now nothing decisive was done on the 15th, and time was thereby given the allies to mature their plans. Early on that day Blücher heard that on the morrow Schwarzenberg would attack Leipzig from the south-east, but would send a corps westwards to threaten it on the side of Lindenau. The Prussian leader therefore hurried on from the banks of the Saale, and at night the glare of his watch-fires warned Marmont that Leipzig would be assailed also from the north-west. Yet, despite the warnings which Napoleon received from his Marshal, he refused to believe that the north side was seriously threatened; and, as late as the dawn of the 16th, he bade his troops there to be ready to march through Leipzig and throw themselves on the masses of Schwarzenberg.[374] Had Napoleon given those orders on the 15th, all might have gone well; for all his available forces, except Ney's and Reynier's corps, were near at hand, making a total of nearly 150,000 men, while Schwarzenberg had as yet not many more. But those orders on the 16th were not only belated: they contributed to the defeat on the north side.
The Emperor's thoughts were concentrated on the south. There his lines stretched in convex front along undulating ground near Wachau and Liebertwolkwitz, about a league to the south and south-east of the town. His right was protected by the marshy ground of the small river Pleisse; his centre stretched across the roads leading towards Dresden, while his left rested on a small stream, the Parthe, which curves round towards the north-west and forms a natural defence to the town on the north. Yet to cautious minds his position seemed unsafe; he had in his rear a town whose old walls were of no military value, a town on which several roads converged from the north, east, and south, but from which, in case of defeat, he could retire westward only by one road, that leading over the now flooded streams of the Pleisse and the Elster. But the great captain himself thought only of victory. He had charged Macdonald and Ney to march from Taucha to his support: Marmont was to do the same; and, with these concentrated forces acting against the far more extended array of Schwarzenberg, he counted on overthrowing him on the morrow, and then crushing the disunited forces of Blücher and Bernadotte.[375]
[Illustration: BATTLE OF LEIPZIG]
The Emperor and Murat were riding along the ridge near Liebertwolkwitz, when, at nine o'clock, three shots fired in quick succession from the allies on the opposite heights, opened the series of battles fitly termed the Battle of the Nations. For six hours a furious cannonade shook the earth, and the conflict surged to and fro with little decisive result; but when Macdonald's corps struck in from the north-east, the allies began to give ground. Thereupon Napoleon launched two cavalry corps, those of Latour-Maubourg and Pajol, against the allied centre.
Then was seen one of the most superb sights of war. Rising quickly from behind the ridge, 12,000 horsemen rode in two vast masses against a weak point in the opposing lines. They were led by the King of Naples with all his wonted dash. Panting up the muddy slopes opposite, they sabred the gunners, enveloped the Russian squares, and the three allied sovereigns themselves had to beat a hasty retreat to avoid capture. But the horses were soon spent by the furious pace at which Murat careered along; and a timely charge by Pahlen's Cossacks and the Silesian cuirassiers, brought up from the allied reserves beyond the Pleisse, drove the French brigades back in great disorder, with the loss of their able corps leaders. The allies by a final effort regained all the lost ground, and the day here ended in a drawn fight, with the loss of about 20,000 men to either side.
Meanwhile, on the west side of Leipzig, Bertrand had beaten off the attack of Giulay's Austrian corps on the village of Lindenau. But, further north, Marmont sustained a serious reverse. In obedience to Napoleon's order, he was falling back towards Leipzig, when he was sharply attacked by Yorck's corps at Möckern. Between that village and Eutritzsch further east the French Marshal offered a most obstinate resistance. Blücher, hoping to capture his whole corps, begged Sir Charles Stewart to ride back to Bernadotte and request his succour. The British envoy found the Swedish Prince at Halle and conjured him to make every exertion not to be the only leader left out of the battle.[376] It was in vain: his army was too far away; and only after the village of Möckern had been repeatedly taken and re-taken, was Marmont finally driven out by Yorck's Prussians.[377]
In truth, Marmont lacked the support of Ney's corps, which Berthier had led him to expect if he were attacked in force. But the orders were vague or contradictory. Ney had been charged to follow Macdonald and impart irresistible momentum to the onset which was to have crushed Schwarzenberg's right wing. He therefore only detached one weak division to cover Marmont's right flank, and with the other divisions marched away south, when an urgent message from Möckern recalled him to that side of Leipzig, with the result that his 15,000 men spent the whole day in useless marches and counter-marches.[378] The mishap was most serious. Had he strengthened Macdonald's outflanking move, the right wing of the allied Grand Army might have been shattered. Had he reinforced Marmont effectively, the position on the north might have been held. As it was, the French fell back from Möckern in confusion, losing 53 cannon; but they had inflicted on Yorck's corps a loss of 8,000 men out of 21,000. Relatively to the forces engaged, Albuera and Möckern are the bloodiest battles of the Napoleonic wars.