Russian soldiers were notorious for their fighting capacity
and staying power: prior to the campaign of 1812 Napoleon’s worst experience on
the battlefield had come at the hands of General Bennigsen at the battle of Eylau,
whilst in the Seven Years’ War Frederick the Great had repeatedly been very
roughly handled by the green-coated soldiers of the Empress Elizabeth, gaining
an extremely pyrrhic victory over them at Zorndorf in 1758 and going down to
ignominious defeat at Kunersdorf in 1759. Other Russian victories from the same
war numbered Gross-Jägersdorf and Kay, whilst in 1799 General Suvorov’s
invasion of Switzerland had seen Russian troops gain a series of dramatic
successes: on 1 October, for example, 5000 troops under General Rosenberg had
utterly defeated a column of more than twice as many Frenchmen under no less a
figure than André Masséna, a general who is always rated as one of Napoleon’s
greatest commanders. In all this the self-same factors generally identified as
the mainspring of Russian patriotism in 1812 had made an appearance. Thus,
throughout the eighteenth century commanders such as Rumiantsev and Suvorov had
made every effort to play on the devotion of the soldiery to the Orthodox faith
and to instill love of the tsar. In this respect it is the opinion of some
historians that they appear to have had at least some success. Let us here
quote Sir Robert Wilson’s account of the Russian army that fought at Eylau and
Friedland in 1807: ‘The Russian, nurtured from earliest infancy to consider
Russia as the supreme nation of the world, always regards himself as an
important component part of the irresistible mass . . . Amidst the Russian
qualities, the love of country is also pre-eminent, and inseparable from the
Russian soldier. This feeling is paramount, and in the very last hour his gaze
is directed towards its nearest confines.’ But, even supposing that this is so
– and it should be noted that Wilson’s claims fit in with a long line of
distinctly uncritical western writings on the subject of Russia that stressed
the devotion of the common people to the ‘Little Father’ and the Motherland –
the net result must be to suggest that what happened at such battles as
Smolensk, Borodino, Maloyaroslavets and Polotsk was not representative of
anything out of the ordinary. Indeed, it could even be argued that the Russian
armed forces were actually less patriotic in 1812 than they had been in, say,
1762. Thus there were many non-Russian conscripts, most notably Ukrainians, in
the army of Alexander II. What she neglects to say, however, is that
conscription had only been extended beyond the frontiers of Great Russia in the
reign of Paul I, and that a number of contemporary writers had been expressing
fears that this would dilute the morale and fighting power of the soldiery.
For all the determined efforts of the régime to whip up
popular patriotism in 1812, then, there is little concrete evidence that these
made much difference in so far as the motivation of the common soldier was
concerned: the Russian soldier fought in much the same style as he had for the
past century. Why, then, was he able to give the French, the Prussian and the
Turks such a tough time? One explanation that is sometimes put forward is that
the conscripted serfs who fought for the Romanovs were so brutalized, so stupid
and so devoid of initiative that they simply did not understand the concept of
running away. The Polish leader, Kosciuszko, said that Russian soldiers fought
as fanatics and ignored enemy fire so long as they had officers left to lead
them, whilst, to quote Christopher Duffy, ‘It was not enough simply to kill
Rusians: you had to knock them down as well.’34 However, this piece of
type-casting does not work any better than that of the Russian soldier as the
holy warrior of tsar and motherland. In the late eighteenth century, the
Russian army had evolved a tactical doctrine that stressed initiative,
flexibility and speed of movement, and, whilst Paul I did make some reforms,
the fact is that he really only altered the emphasis of the regulations:
firepower was now to be more important than the bayonet, but the same offensive
spirit was still very much in evidence; simultaneously, meanwhile, the tsar
initiated the practice of awarding medals to common soldiers. At the same time,
under Alexander I there was a renewed move away from the Prussian models that
had been favoured by Paul I and, at the time of the Seven Years’ War, the
Empress Elizabeth: ever more emphasis was placed on the use of skirmishers,
whilst the infantry adopted the same mixture of line and column visible in
other armies. At Eylau, Friedland and Borodino the Russians certainly fought in
dense masses, but this was not the result of bovine stupidity: rather, the
position of the army was in each case very cramped with the result that there
was little option but to form the troops in column and no means for them to
change their position or take shelter. From this it follows that the
performance of the Russian army was in the end determined by military factors.
In the first place, it was plentifully supplied with artillery and therefore
able to inflict terrible damage on its opponents, who were generally less well
served in this respect: at Kay 28 000 Prussians and fifty-six guns faced 40 000
Russians and 186 guns, whilst at Kunersdorf 51 000 Prussians and 140 guns faced
41 000 Russians and 200 guns; moreover, both the organization and the armament
of this arm of service were greatly improved under Paul I and Alexander I. The
benefits of this situation continued to pertain in 1812 – at Borodino the
Russian guns were both more numerous and heavier than their French opponents
and even at the very end of the day they were still able to impose their
superiority. Thus, according to the Russian commander, Kutuzov, ‘A ferocious
artillery duel lasted until it was completely dark. Our artillery caused
immense damage with its roundshot and compelled the enemy batteries to fall
silent, after which all the French infantry and cavalry withdrew.’ Beyond this,
meanwhile, Russian troops were frequently surprisingly well trained. Thus, the
eighteenth-century reformer, Rumiantsev, the towering genius, Suvorov, and the
victor of Borodino, Kutuzov, had all placed great emphasis on realistic battle
drills, the fact being that the Russian army was therefore a very tough nut to
crack.
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