Marshal Ney and the Art of the Retreat

This post is a part of the 2023 Selected Papers of the Consortium on the Revolutionary Era, which were edited and compiled by members of the CRE’s board alongside editors at Age of Revolutions.

By Wayne Hanley

Marshal Michel Ney, “the bravest of the brave,” remains perhaps the most fascinating of Napoleon’s marshals, yet over the last 200 years, historians have taken great delight in denigrating Ney, attributing to him all sorts of negative behaviors, from periodic apparent tactical incompetence to willfully disobeying Napoleon’s orders. Like most of the marshals, Marshal Ney received occasional criticism from the emperor during his career, but the first serious criticism of the marshal’s performance began on St. Helena when the emperor began the process of rewriting the history of the Empire. In his account of the battles of Quatre-Bras and of Ligny on 16 June, for example, Napoleon notes that “if Marshal Ney had executed his orders and had advanced [on Quatre-Bras] with his 43,000 men at daybreak of 16 June, he would have taken that position . . . and put to rout and scattered the [Prince of Orange’s] division.”[1] With Quatre-Bras secured and “if Ney had followed his orders, not a cannon of the Prussian army [fighting at Ligny] would have escaped.”[2] From Napoleon’s account, Ney’s lack of initiative and failure to execute orders in a timely fashion seriously hampered the Emperor’s efforts to trap the Prussian and British armies on the eve of Waterloo. Napoleon would sum up Ney career thusly: “Always the first in the fire, Ney forgot the troops which were not under his eyes. The bravery that a general-in-chief must show is different from that which a major general must have, as this must not be that of a grenadier captain.”[3]

Equally damning is General Gourgaud’s account of the campaign of 1815—published in 1818. This narrative of events is a combination of Gourgaud’s recollections and the dictations of Napoleon made during his exile on St. Helena (but it is generally understood to actually be primarily the emperor’s interpretations of events). Gourgaud (and thus one assumes Napoleon) was especially critical of Ney. According to Gourgaud, Napoleon’s verbal instructions to Ney on their meeting of 15 June was for Ney to press vigorously any allied forces on the road to Brussels, calling special attention to the strategic importance of Quatre-Bras and suggesting that the position should be secured before midnight.[4] Why? Gourgaud postulates: “It would appear, that the recollection of his conduct in 1814, and lastly in March 1815, had occasioned a kind of mental derangement, which manifested itself in all his actions. Though the bravest of men in battle, Marshal Ney frequently committed mistakes in his field dispositions.”[5]

Later historians echoed this opinion. Adolphe Thiers, the champion of the “St. Helena School” thought that at Quatre-Bras Ney “allowed the fate of France to slip through his fingers”; J.F.C. Fuller noted that “Ney drove a Prussian detachment out of Gosselies … but then ceased to be the Ney of Jena”; and Henri Houssaye commented that on 16 June “Ney gave way to prudence for the first time in his life.”[6] In his masterful Campaigns of Napoleon, David Chandler is likewise critical of Ney’s performance during the Hundred Days and devotes an entire chapter to “The Errors of Marshal Ney.” Chandler, for example, harshly assesses Ney’s fitness for command on the eve of the campaign as “a totally unsuitable appointment for a soldier who could still be relied upon for courage and élan in action, but whose brain was no longer capable of the cool strategic calculations required of a semi-independent commander.”[7] 

When examining all this criticism, one is struck by the remarkable similarities to the tone and nature of the criticism of Ney as first espoused by General Gourgaud (and, thus, by Napoleon who was attempting to secure his reputation for posterity). The influence of the general (and the emperor) can even be seen in the work of Henri Houssaye, whose 1815 is one of the most thoroughly researched and balanced accounts of the Hundred Days. Houssaye frequently cites Gourgaud whose interpretation of events is sometimes echoed in Houssaye’s analysis despite the historian’s citation of military records, such as the logbooks of the major-général, which suggest other possible interpretations.[8] These pro-Napoleon accounts of the Waterloo campaign and particularly of Ney’s performance on 16 June are frequently disingenuous, and alternate interpretations of his actions deserve consideration both during the Waterloo campaign and for Ney’s career in general.

Even today, many historians continue to replicate the arguments of the St. Helena school, often verbatim: “Ney … was good at leading 10,000 men, but other than that he was quite stupid,” often overlooking the fact that the marshal routinely led corps successfully in battle which numbered more than twice that amount.[9] On one occasion a respected historian commented something to the effect that he always notes to his students that “Ney’s brain froze in Russia and never thawed.” While good for a chuckle, such statements, inspired by the St. Helena school, hardly seek to understand the complexities of military leadership or of the circumstances the last years of the Napoleonic wars by focusing on one or two events and fail to consider his entire career (while ignoring other comments Napoleon made about Ney which showed him in a different light). What is needed is a fairer evaluation of Ney’s career based of the written evidence and taking into account the circumstances of actual events, not the comments of individuals seeking to scapegoat others to preserve the reputation of Napoleon.

While Ney was certainly not the best of the emperor’s marshals, he was far from the worst and is undeserving of the unfair criticism heaped upon him. Critical analysis of Ney’s career reveals a very different picture. As Edward Foote notes in his history of the 1812 campaign, “as a strategist Ney did not excel, and he failed in independent command, but he was a fine tactician, and as a corps commander probably unsurpassed.”[10] Too often Ney’s critics seem to expect him to display the same talents as a Masséna, a Davout, or a Wellington, or even Napoleon himself. Because few generals excel at the multi-variant talents required to command an entire army, Ney’s career deserves to be reevaluated, focusing instead on his abilities as a “mere” corps commander (a level of attainment and competence few generals likewise ever achieve). One way to appreciate his talents as a corps commander is to examine a tactical skill at which he excelled: the rearguard action. General Friedrich Wilhelm von Mellenthin described this maneuver as “of all operations of war, a withdrawal under heavy enemy pressure is probably the most difficult and perilous.”[11] And it was in the conduct of this operation that Marshal Ney probably proved superior to any of his contemporaries.

In a recent edition of the US Army’s Infantry Battalion manual, its authors echo General Mellenthin’s assessment of rearguard actions, noting that “the delay is one of the most demanding of all ground combat operations,” and the Army’s field manual Tactics similarly  emphasizes that “a delay is one of the most difficult forms of defensive operations to execute” while devoting an entire lengthy chapter to the conduct of “retrograde” maneuvers.[12] This latter manual lays out a number of important considerations for planning and executing such delaying operations: 1) the commander must pay special attention to morale; 2) commanders assigns contiguous areas of operation that are deeper than they are wide and that maximize the use of obstacles, arcs of fire and movement opportunities within those area of; 3) a commander should always take advantage of the terrain when planning his operation so that it favors his defense and opportunities for ambush while hindering the enemy’s movements; 4) a commander should always identify routes for reinforcements, artillery, command posts and combat support elements to minimize choke points; 5) recognizing that intelligence  of enemy operations may be diminished during retrograde operations, a commander will want to echelon his intelligence assets to minimize the degradation of the information supply (it is important to know how the enemy is reacting to the delaying or withdrawing action); 6) a commander should not allow himself to become decisively engaged (the whole purpose is to slow the enemy advance while allowing friendly forces to escape with minimal jeopardy); 7) it is important for a commander to maintain centralized planning and control; and 8) a commander must anticipate transportation needs to support the operation.[13]Perhaps a fairer evaluation of Ney’s command abilities would be to compare his leadership as demonstrated in his most noted rearguard actions to some established standard, like the US Army’s Tactics manual. At Guttstadt (1807), at Pombal and Redinha (1811), and during the Russian retreat (1812), the marshal proved himself to be a master of rearguard operations.

In the late Spring of 1807, Russian General Levin von Bennigsen decided to launch a surprise attack on the Grande Armée’s forward-most and exposed corps, Marshal Ney’s VI Corps which was still in winter quarters some ten miles beyond the Passarge River in the vicinity of Guttstadt.[14] With the River Alle anchoring his right flank, Ney’s corps stretched perpendicularly to the west with Marchand’s division dug in farther north and Bisson’s division occupying a string of villages slightly to the south. Between his VI Corps and supporting cavalry, Ney had about 17,000 men under his command at the beginning of June.[15] Bennigsen’s orchestrated attack would see 63,000 men advance in six columns against Ney’s single corps. While diversionary attacks tied down Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult’s corps at Lomitten and Marshal Jean Bernadotte’s corps at Spanden, the overwhelming weight of the Russian forces converged on Ney’s isolated corps at Guttstadt.[16]

Fortunately for Ney, he received some advanced warning of the impending onslaught when Marshal Louis-Nicholas Davout sent him a hurried communique on 2 June, informing his colleague that the Russians were on the march and to be on guard.[17] Also, in the months prior to Bennigsen’s offensive, Ney had planned for such an eventuality. On 17 March, for example, the marshal distributed standing orders to his corps “Dispositions générales en cas d’attaque de la parte de l’ennemi,” which detailed the measures each brigade should take in case of attack, including lines of retreat, and its eventual disposition (along with those of the neighboring corps of Davout and Soult). Ney shared a copy of these orders with his two colleagues. Eventually these were shared with the Emperor who responded via Berthier that “his Majesty found it all very well.”[18] When Bennigsen began his attack in the early morning hours of 5 June, the marshal and his corps were ready for it.

Against the Russian onslaught, Ney had little choice but to give ground. As historian F. Lorraine Petre explained, “the marshal … fell back in first-rate order to Ankendorf, fighting every step of the way, and holding every fold of the ground with strong swarms of skirmishers.”[19] To keep his enemy off-balance, he occasionally launched a counter-attack, slowing the Russian advance and buying time for his forces to make good their withdrawal toward the comparative safety of the Passarge River.[20] In his report to Berthier, Ney singled out individual regiments and officers for their particularly “glorious” conduct on the day, including Colonel Loyer of the 39e and the men of the 6e (and their commander, Colonel Laplane), 25e, and 31e light infantry regiments.[21]

VI Corps’ positions on the following morning of 6 June were well-chosen for the defense. His right was protected by the Queetz lake; his left and center sheltered by a marshy brook that emptied into the Passarge; and his left (along the road to Deppen) was anchored by a small wood. Although he had suffered casualties in the first day’s fighting, the majority of his corps was still in good order with two avenues of retreat, a bridge for each wing of his corps.[22] Bennigsen, however, was confident of victory and had already reported to the czar the defeat of Ney’s corps in his 5 June dispatch:

General Ney’s corps is defeated, and General Roget, several officers, with about 2,000 rank and file, have been taken prisoners; the enemy’s loss in killed amounts to 2,000; on our side it is not very considerable. During the action which took place on the left bank of the Alle, Lieutenant General Prince Gortchakov rendered himself master of Guttstadt, and took a considerable magazine. The enemy was pursued for 4 German miles (i.e. over 18 English miles).[23]

The marshal’s demise was prematurely reported. Early on the morning of 6 June, Bennigsen sent five columns to complete the destruction of the lone French corps: Prince Dmitry Golitsyn  advanced toward Deppen in an attempt to cut off Ney’s route to the Passarge; Fabian von der Osten-Sacken advanced against the French center; Aleksey Gorchakov advanced on the French right while Pyotr Bagration and Grand Duke Constantine formed the reserve.[24] The marshal’s counter-attacked in the woods on the right, halting Gortchakov’s advance and causing the Russian general to flank the French position by marching all the way around Lake Queetz (thus inadvertently relieving pressure on the French right).[25] Meanwhile, the Russian assault against the French center and left forced Ney to redeploy his temporarily relieved right flank to cover the withdrawal of the rest of his corps (division by division) to the relative safety across two pontoon bridges to the heights of Deppen beyond the Passarge River.[26] In two days of fighting, VI Corps had experienced approximately 2,000 total casualties, lost two guns and virtually all his baggage while inflicting nearly 2,500 total casualties on a vastly superior force, but he had managed to preserve his corps against overwhelming odds.[27] While Ney again praised the conduct of his troops in their unbalanced struggle, Bennigsen was livid that his prey had escaped his trap.[28] Of Ney’s own conduct during that fighting, one of his senior staff officers would write, “… The troops were led by Marshal Ney. They had the blindest confidence in him, so they were invincible; he never shown himself so great as during those two days of 6 and 7 June [sic].”[29] Just a week later, Ney’s VI corps would play a pivotal role in Napoleon’s victory at Friedland.

Four years later the marshal would again demonstrate his talent for rearguard actions during a series of combats during the retreat of Marshal André Masséna’s army from Portugal, actions which General François Nicolas Fririon, Masséna’s chief of staff described as a “cunning resistance [against the whole of Wellington’s army], which protected a weak and exhausted army, [and] will always be one of the finest episodes in the glorious career of the Duke of Elchingen.”[30] Indeed, according to British sources, Ney put on a veritable clinic on the conducting of rear-guard actions. As a prelude to this retrograde maneuver on the night of 5-6 March, Marshal Masséna employed Ney’s VI Corps as a diversion to disguise his true motives. Ney’s demonstrations toward Leyria and Torrès-Novas made the British think the French were preparing an assault on Torres Vedras and gave the Prince of Essling a two-day head start on the Anglo-Portuguese army.[31] On 9 March, VI Corps, acting as rearguard, controlled the junctions of the roads to Leiria and Obranco to cover the retreat of IX Corps and to allow the last of the baggage and wounded to pass.[32] On 10 March, Ney forwarded to Masséna a report from captured Portuguese soldiers that a 40,000-man army was marching against the French;[33] Wellington caught up with VI Corps at Pombal and the first major fighting of the retreat began.

After inspecting VI Corps’ outposts on 11 March, Massena ordered Ney to deploy his forces before Pombal to allow more time for the baggage and artillery to escape through the difficult, heavily wooded terrain. [34] “Confid[ing] the honor of the army” to the safekeeping of the Duke of Elchingen, the Prince told the marshal that he must hold “at all costs,” which Ney promised to do.[35] Attacked in superior numbers and discovering that the Count d’Erlon fell back with his corps “at the moment when the army was threatened by attack by considerable numbers,” Ney took up position behind the town where he found the ground better suited for defense, leaving the 6th light infantry, supported by the 69th regiment of the line, the 6th dragoon regiment and some light artillery, to hold the town, its castle and its bridge (over the Soure River). The British advanced guard drove the 6th from Pombal with heavy cannon fire. Realizing the loss of the high ground near the castle would threaten his ability to protect the baggage and his own retreat, Ney placed himself at the head of the 69th of the line (which was commanded by Colonel Fririon, the brother of Masséna’s chief of staff): “Chasseurs, you will dishonor yourselves if you do not retake Pombal; who among you will follow me!”[36] Marshal Ney spurred his horse, and the 69th retook the castle, buying more time for the baggage and stragglers of the Army of Portugal to effect their withdrawal. As the day progressed and the reinforced British began to flank him, an outnumbered Ney realized that he would not be able to hold. He ordered his own rear guard (now Labassée’s brigade which had replaced Fririon’s exhausted troops) to contest each foot of ground and to set fire to the town to delay Wellington’s advance. Not a single piece of baggage fell into enemy hands.[37] “What can you do,” Ney told Colonel Girard of the 6th light infantry, “it’s one of the hard choices of war; I had to set fire to the town or lose the army. Given the choices, I chose the lesser evil. It stopped Wellington, who had to wait or lose his caissons in the fire.”[38] In his History of the War in the Peninsula, William Napier summed up the fighting at Pombal: “Ney, with a wonderful happy mixture of courage, readiness, and skill, illustrated every league of ground by some signal of war.”[39] Afterwards, Ney withdrew toward Redinha under cover of darkness and reported the day’s events to his commander-in-chief.[40]

Masséna informed Ney that it was “absolutely essential to hold Redinha” to buy time for the Army of Portugal and its baggage to make their escape.[41] Even more than at Pombal, the terrain near the confluence of the Soure and AncosRivers—with its wooded heights and defiles—was perfect for a defensive action. Ney was determined to make the most of it, literally giving a lesson on how to conduct a rearguard action. On the morning of 12 March, the Prince of Essling dispatched Major Pelet to check on the Duke of Elchingen’s status. After reviewing Ney’s deployments, Pelet asked the Marshal to remain for a lesson in maneuvers. “It would have been difficult,” Pelet writes, “to find a better teacher.”[42] According to Captain Pierre-François Guingret, Ney employed primarily General Julien Mermet’s division, supported by a division of hussars, a couple of squadrons of dragoons and 6-8 cannon.[43] Against this force of about 8,500, Wellington prepared to launch a coordinated attack of over 16,000 men in three British and one Portuguese divisions.[44] The Duke of Elchingen echeloned his troops along a small valley before the town and on the heights, supporting them with his artillery. The standard bearer of each battalion had been sent to the rear to a rally point pre-selected by Ney. Wellington cautiously waited until all his forces were concentrated before attacking in three columns.[45]

Each time an Anglo-Portuguese column came within range, it was greeted by devastating volleys from the French battalions drawn up in line, which then fell back to the rally points as the next line of battalions stood ready to greet the British advance. In the meantime, the first battalions reformed their lines at the rally point, ready to repeat the process when the next battalion fell back. When General Thomas Picton’s division tried to take the heights on the French left, Ney “executed a bayonet charge which produced an excellent effect,” sending Picton’s forces reeling.[46] When General Brent Spencer, who commanded the Anglo-Portuguese center, moved to support Picton, the Duke of Elchingen counter-attacked with the 25th light  infantry, supported by the 50th line regiment, the 3rd hussars, the 6th dragoons and artillery; and as General Koch noted, “the English could not resist the blow.”[47] In this manner and with “the precision that one would find on a practice field,” Marshal Ney held up Wellington’s forces for most of the day.[48] Toward evening, when Picton was on the verge of turning the French position, General Marchand, whose division had been deployed behind Redinha, sprang a trap: his strategically placed artillery raked Picton’s division with devastating effect. As the cannon-fire tore through the English ranks, Marchand launched a bayonet charge with the battalion of the 59th of the line, supported by all the skirmishers he could muster, stopping Picton in his tracks.[49] As the last of the baggage passed through Redinha, Ney withdrew with the rest of the Army of Portugal toward Condeixa. Writing later of the French retreat, General Picton comments:

The enemy’s rear-guard, during the whole course of the retreat, was commanded by Marshal Ney in person; and all his movements afforded a perfect lesson in that kind of warfare. Moving at all times upon his flank, I had an opportunity of seeing everything he did; and I must be dull in the extreme if I have not derived some practically useful knowledge from such an example.[50]

Ney’s chief of staff writes: “Of the brilliant success of this day, all the honor belongs to [Ney].”[51]

On 13 March, Ney deployed VI Corps on terrain quite similar to that of Redinha, no doubt hoping to repeat the drubbing he had given Wellington only the day before. The day began well, but Condeixa was not Redinha.[52] As Wellington approached the French positions, he dispatched Picton’s division to flank Ney by way of Sierra de Anciao.[53] The marshal’s position quickly became untenable when Picton appeared on the French left.[54] To delay the Anglo-Portuguese advance and give VI Corps time to escape, Ney set fire to Condeixa and dispatched a report to Masséna concerning the unanticipated development. As the marshal’s divisions made their way toward Miranda de Corvo, the roads were clogged with abandoned vehicles (from other units) and baggage, particularly unofficial, personal baggage. To clear a path for his men, he ordered the baggage moved out of the way and burned.[55] But his corps, and more importantly the rest of Masséna’s army were able to make good their escape to fight another day (burning your boss’s plundered loot, however, turned out to be a questionable career move!).

As for Ney’s role during the retreat from Russia, it is legend and so much has been written about it (and I have given a paper on the topic at a previous CRE). I won’t rehash all of the details here, but what stands out the most is the effect the marshal had on the morale of those around him. Time and again during the retreat, when all seemed lost, Marshal Ney became the reassuring presence that held together discipline and resistance against the odds. A few examples should suffice.

Marshal Ney’s command of the rearguard began on 3 November 1812 when Napoleon ordered Ney and his III Corps to replace Marshal Louis Davout and I Corps with instructions “to move the army along as quickly as possible because we are not making good progress and are losing good weather.”[56] For the next ten days and despite the worsening weather, Ney held at bay several much larger enemy forces in a series of running battles and well-timed counterattacks while pushing as many stragglers as possible toward Smolensk ahead of his corps.[57] As Armand de Caulincourt recalled, “Ney conducted the rear-guard with a vigor worthy of his courage, and infused his own energy into all around him.”[58] 

When the 6,000-man rearguard departed Smolensk to make its way toward the main army at Orsha and it found its way barred by Russian Field Marshal Mikhail Kutuzov’s army of nearly 80,000 men near Krasnoi on 18 November, Ney did not surrender as invited to do so, but rather used audacity and a ruse de guerre to slip away from his enemy under cover of darkness. As Colonel Raymond de Fezensac noted: “Marshal Ney’s presence was sufficient to infuse confidence. Without presuming to divine what he would or could do,—we knew he would do something.”[59] It was then that Ney stumbled upon a small creek—which, he reasoned, had to flow into the Dnieper—and decided to follow it. His soldiers “closed around their marshal in whom alone they personified safety,” and entrusted him with their lives.[60] Marching a little farther, they arrived at the river, but were unable to cross because the ice was not yet solid enough. The Marshal decided to wait several hours to allow the sub-zero temperatures time to work. Unable to do more until then, an exhausted Ney, “forgetting the dangers of the past, and insensible to those of the future,” curled up in his cloak and went to sleep on the riverbank (displaying his “nerve to survive storm and disappointment”).[61]

Once across the Dnieper, Ney found shelter for his sick and wounded, then continued his march.[62] Two days later, III Corps discovered a Cossack outpost at Gusinoe. After a quick skirmish, Ney was master of the village and continued his march through a nearby forest. When Ney’s corps emerged from their wooded cover, scouts discovered 20-25,000 Cossacks and sleigh-born artillery, commanded by General Matvei Platov. The morale of the French soldiers was devastated; some even began to talk of surrender. Had they escaped from Kutuzov only to be captured by Platov? Ney would have none of this. As Armand de Briqueville recalled it: “The marshal threw himself into their midst, spoke to them with fire, reassured them, reanimated their courage and soon inspired them with an energy so ferocious that they took up their arms again.”[63] Ney restored their confidence by reminding his soldiers of their moral superiority over the Cossacks, urging them to fight to the last man if necessary (once again displaying his resolution and ability to overcome adversity). Once the Cossack artillery had been driven off, the French column resumed its march, and the rest of the day proceeded without incident.[64]

As he drew closer to the remnants of the Grande Armée at Orsha, Ney sent ahead two Polish scouts, the last of his cavalry, to warn Napoleon of his approach.[65] Of the 6,000 men who had quitted Smolensk three days earlier, perhaps only 1,800 able-bodied men reached Orsha and the comparative safety of the Grande Armée (figures vary depending on the sources).Once news of the Bravest of the Brave’s miraculous reappearance spread through the French ranks, the morale of the entire army rose as if it had won a great victory.[66] The exploits of III Corps rekindled the entire army’s fighting spirit and sparked new hope. When the Emperor learned of Ney’s safety—the marshal whom he had been forced to abandon—his joy was obvious. “So I have saved my eagles!” he exclaimed, “I would have given three hundred millions from my treasury to ransom such a man!” Turning to an aide, the Emperor continued, “Better an army of deer commanded by a lion than an army of lions commanded by a deer.”[67] Even Ney’s enemies lauded his efforts. In recounting this phase of the French retreat, British General Robert Wilson wrote: “It is impossible to eulogize too highly the spirit, the energy, and the constancy exhibited by Ney through so many trials.”[68]

Historians generally agree that Marshal Ney was skillful in conducting what today’s military terms a retrograde maneuver. Indeed, Petre describes him at Guttstadt as “a consummate master of the art of conducting a rearguard action, and of delaying, to the last safe moment, the enemy’s march.”[69] And the reasons why are evident when considering the principles laid out in the US Army’s Tactics field manual. Ney was obviously someone who was cognizant of the role that morale played in maintaining the integrity of his fighting formations, and the confidence (and competence) he inspired among his men did much to maintain that. He demonstrated this time and again throughout his career. But he was also someone who possessed a tactical coup d’oeil, able to see the terrain and what advantages it offered for his defense, whether it was securing his flanks with lakes or woods or rivers or using folds of land to establish clear fields of fire and safe routes of movement. Even with the enemy pressing in, he refused to allow himself to be drawn into a decisive engagement, always maintained a secure route of escape whether it be clearly defined rally points, adequate bridge crossings, or a frozen river, and he would not allow superfluous baggage to come before the safety of his men, wounded or able-bodied—his men always came first (which, of course, reflected in their morale). When a commander considers all these things, while conducting what is generally agreed to be among the most challenging of all land operations and doing so while typically heavily outnumbered and doing it effectively (and repeatedly throughout his career), perhaps he is worthy of a reassessment of his abilities as a corps commander.


Wayne Hanley is a professor of history and holds a doctorate in modern European history from the University of Missouri-Columbia (1998) with a specialty in Revolutionary France. He is author of The Genesis of Napoleonic Propaganda, 1796-1799 (Columbia University Press, 2005; e-book, 2003), editor of Napoleonic Scholarship (the journal of the International Napoleonic Society), numerous articles on various aspects of literature and French history, and has presented papers on both history and literature at academic conferences. He is the winner of the American Historical Association’s 2000 Gutenberg-e Prize and a recipient of the Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award (2018). 

Title Image: Adolphe Yvon, Marshal Ney Supporting the Rear Guard during the Retreat from Moscow, 1856.

[1] Campaign of 1815, Œuvres de Napoléon Ier à Sainte-Hélène, Napoleon Bonaparte, Correspondance de Napoléon Ier publiée par ordre de l’Empereur Napoléon III (Paris: Henri Plon, 1858-1869), XXXI, 209.

[2] Napoleon, “Campaign of 1815,” 206.

[3] Napoleon, “Campagne de 1815,” Correspondance, XXXI, 250.

[4] Gourgaud, 48.

[5] Gourgaud, 50.

[6] qtd. in Harold Kurtz, The Trial of Marshal Ney (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1957), 148-49; cf. Henri Houssaye, 1815, vol. II (Paris: Librairie Académique, 1921), 133.

[7] David G. Chandler, The Campaigns of Napoleon (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1966), 1021.  David Chandler does present a somewhat less unfavorable view of Ney in his Waterloo: The Hundred Days (Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 1997).

[8] See Henri Houssaye, 1815, vol. II (Paris: Librairie Académique, 1921).  Houssaye’s invaluable work makes extensive and methodical use of documents held in Archives de Guerre, the Archives Nationales, and the Bibliothèque Nationale.

[9] Gaspard Gourgaud, Sainte-Hélène: Journal Inédit de 1815 à 1818, tome 1 (Paris: Ernest Flammarion, 1899), I: 585.

[10] Edward A. Foord, Napoleon’s Russian Campaign of 1812 (London: Hutchinson and Company, 1914), 34.  Foord was a former 19th-C British general (in the Royal Engineers), historian and cricketer.

[11] Friedrich Wilhelm von Mellenthin, Panzer Battles, 1939-1945: A Study of the Employment of Armour in the Second World War (London: Cassell and Company, 1955), 236.

[12] US Army, Infantry Battalion, Manual Army Techniques Publication No. 3-21.20 (December 2017) (Washington, DC:  Department of the Army, 2017), 3-99; and US Army Field Manual No. 3-90 Tactics (Washington, DC:  Department of the Army, 2001), 11-37.

[13] Tactics, sections 11-1 to 11-64. For conducting a withdrawal, see sections 11-65 to 11-91.

[14] F-G Hourtoulle, 1807, From Eylau to Friedland: The Polish Campaign, trans. by Alan McKay (Paris: Histoire et Collections, 2007), 73; Christopher Summerville, Napoleon’s Polish Gamble: Eylau to Friedland, 1807 (Barnsley, UK: Pen and Sword, 2005), 111 and 114; and Henri Bonnal, La Vie Militaire du Maréchal Ney, vol. 2 (Paris: Librarie Chapelot, 1914), II: 449-52. Ney did not live long enough to produce official memoirs, but Bonnal’s three-volume work reproduces verbatim copies of many letters and orders found in the Ney family papers and the Archives de Guerre (at least through the beginning of 1812).

[15] F. Loraine Petre, Napoleon’s Campaign in Poland, 1806-1807: From Stalemate to Victory (Barnsley, UK: Frontline Books, 2016), 282.

[16] Petre, 276-77; Summerville, 114; and Hourtoulle, 74. The nearest French forces to Ney’s were Davout’s, some 20 miles to the southwest at Osterode (see Summerville, 111).

[17] Henri Bonnal, La Vie Militaire du Maréchal Ney, vol. 2 (Paris: Librarie Chapelot, 1914), II: 450-51. 

[18] Berthier to Ney, 17 March 1807, in Bonnal, II: 440. “Sa Majesté a trouvé tout cela très bien.”

[19] Petre, 282. In his report to Berthier, Ney describes the fighting spirit and discipline of his soldiers during the heavy fighting of 5 June. See Ney to Berthier, 5 June 1807, in Bonnal, II: 453-55.

[20] Petre, 282.

[21] Ney to Berthier, 5 June 1807, in Bonnal, II: 453-55.

[22] Petre, 283.

[23] qtd. in Summerville, 116; cf. Petre, 281-82.

[24] Summerville, 116.

[25] Petre, 283-84.

[26] Ney to Napoleon, 6 June 1807, in Bonnal, II: 460-62; and Petre, 283-84.

[27] Digby Smith, The Greenhill Napoleonic Wars Data Book (London: Greenhill, 1998), 246-47. Ney’s personal papers were captured during the fighting by Cossacks and returned to his family years later in 1847 by Baron de Wedel Bennigsen in 1807 (See Bonnal, II: 455-56).

[28] Ney to Napoleon, 6 June 1807, in Bonnal, II: 460-62; and Summerville, 117. See also Petre, 284.

[29] Général Béchet de Léocour, Souvenirs (Paris: Librarie Historique F. Teissèdre, 1999), 296

[30] Francois Nicolas Fririon, Journal Historique de la Campagne de Portugal, Entreprise par les Français, sous les orders du Maréchal Masséna, Prince d’Essling (Paris: Librarie Militaire de Leneveu, 1841), 156.

[31] Fririon, 141; and Jean-Baptise Koch, ed., Mémoirs d’André Masséna, duc de Rivoli, prince d’Essling, Maréchal d’Empire Rédigés d’après les Documents qu’il à Laissés et sur ceux du Dépot de la Guerre et du Dépot des Fortifications Recuellis par le Général Koch (Paris: Chez Jean de Bonnot, 1967), 346.

[32] Fririon, 144. The role of D’Erlon’s IX Corps was problematic during the invasion of  Portugal. Dispatched by Napoleon to reinforce the Army of Portugal (to help maintain lines of communication), it was, nevertheless, to avoid combat and remain quasi-independent of Masséna. The Count d’Erlon frequently held to the letter of his orders to avoid actively engaging the enemy, as he did at Pombal. See, for example, Jean-Baptiste Antoine Marbot, The Memoirs of Baron de Marbot, trans. By Arthur John Butler, vol. 2 (Barnsley, UK: Greenhill Books, 1988), 141.

[33] Jean-Jacques Pelet, The French Campaign in Portugal, 1810-1811, ed. and trans. Donald D. Horward (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1973), 435.

[34] Colonel Girard, Les Cahiers du Colonel Girard, 1766-1848, publies d’apres le manuscript original par Paul Desachy (Paris: Librarie Plon, 1951), 171-72; Fririon, 145; and Koch  351, 353, and 355.

[35] Koch, 341 and 353.

[36] Koch 353; Béchet de Léocour, 362; Pierre-François Guingret, Relation historique et militaire de la champagne de Portugal, sous le maréchal Masséna, prince d’Essling (Limoges: Chez Bargeas, 1817), 139-41; and Henri Bonnal, La Vie Militaire du Maréchal Ney, vol. 3 (Paris: Librarie Chapelot, 1914), III: 486.

[37] Fririon 145-6; Béchet de Léocour, 361-63; Girard, 172-74; Marbot, 142; and Koch 355-57.

[38] Girard, 174.

[39] William Francis Patrick Napier, History of the War in the Peninsula (Oxford: David Christy, 1836), 333. Napier was a participant in the pursuit of the retreating Army of Portugal.

[40] Koch, 347 and 358-60. Realizing the gravity of the situation, Masséna sent the worst of the army’s wounded away under the protection of the Count d’Erlon’s corps.

[41] Koch 360-61.

[42] Pelet, Portugal, 438.

[43] Guingret, 143. Gringret confuses General Jean Gabriel Marchand’s division with that of General Julien Augustin Joseph Mermet.

[44] Digby Smith, The Greenhill Napoleonic Wars Data Book (London: Greenhill, 1998), 355-56. Ney only employed Marchand’s division (Mermet’s division was deployed behind the town in reserve), so the French actual number of engaged French is smaller than Smith calculates (he counted Mermet as well as Marchand). Guingret estimates that by the end of the day Wellington deployed approximately 25,000 men.

[45] General Picton to Colonel Pleydal, 24 (and 29) March 1811, Philadoze (and Guarda) in Thomas Picton, Memoirs of Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas Picton including his Correspondence from Originals in Possession of his Family, vol. 1 (London: Richard Bentley, 1836), 386-87; and Koch, 363.

[46] Fririon, 147; Béchet de Léocour, 363; Koch, 364; Guingret, 142-47; Pelet, Portugal, 441-46; Napier, 333; and Bonnal, III: 488-92.

[47] Koch, 364-65.

[48] Koch, 365.

[49] Koch, 366; and Emmanuel-Frédéric Sprünglin, Souvenirs des Guerres d’Espagne et de Portugal (Paris: Librarie Historique F. Teissèdre, 1998), 195-96.

[50] Thomas Picton to Colonel Pleydal, 24 (and 29) March 1811, Philadoze (and Guarda) in Picton, 387.

[51] Béchet de Léocour, 363.

[52] Guingret, 151-53.

[53] Napier, 334.

[54] Picton, 393-95.

[55] Béchet de Léocour, 365; Guingret, 156-58; Sprünglin, 198-99; Koch, 373; and Fririon 149-53. Pelet chastises Ney for not preserving the “honor of the army,” artillery and baggage. To the marshal, these things were less important than the preservation of his men (Pelet, Portugal, 545). Colonel Sprünglin and General Picton mention that not only were the wagons destroyed but the donkeys and asses were hamstrung to prevent their use by the enemy (who, as it turned out, had no use for them). Fririon associates this event with the actions of the following day at Casal Novo (Fririon, 154).

[56] Napoleon to Berthier, 3 November 1812, Napoleon Bonaparte, Correspondance de Napoléon Ier publiée par ordre de l’empereur Napoléon III (Paris: Imprimerie Impériale, 1858-1869), No. 19316, XXIV, 344. See also Philippe-Paul de Ségur, Napoleon’s Russian Campaign, trans. by J. David Townsend, (Alexandria, VA: Time-Life Books, 1965), 176.

[57] Ségur recalled that the weather suddenly turned bad beginning on 6 November with wind and slow adding to the misery of the retreat (169-71).

[58] Armand de Caulincourt, With Napoleon in Russia (New York: William Morrow, 1935), 199. Ségur vividly describes Ney actions, noting that while he never ceased to be the general, at times Ney fought with musket in hand, leading by example when those around him began to lose heart (176).

[59] M. de Fezensac, Journal de la Campage de Russie en 1812 (Paris: Librarie Galliot, 1850), 111.

[60] Claude-François Meneval, Memoires Illustrating the History of Napoleon I, 3 vols., ed. by Napoleon-Joseph de Meneval, (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1895), 75;and Armand de Briqueville, “De Smolensk à Orcha, Relation de Briqueville” in Lettres de 1812, ed. Arthur Chuquet (Paris: Librarie Ancienne, 1911), 192.

[61] Fezensac, 113; and Meneval, 75.

[62] Général d’Hautpoul, “Quelques jours de la retraite operée par le maréchal Ney du 16 au 22 novembre de Smolensk à Orza en 1812, ecrits jour par jour par le général d’Hautpoul,” Archives du maréchal Ney, 137 AP 18, Archives Nationales, Paris, France; andVicomte de Pelleport, Souvenirs Militaires et Intimes du Général Vicomte de Pelleport de 1793 à 1854 (Paris: Didier et Compagnie, 1857), 50.

[63] Briqueville, 195.

[64] Marbot, 558;  Briqueville, 193; and Fezensac, 114-15.

[65] Briqueville, 199; and Jean-Jacques Pelet, “Carnets de la campagne de Russie” Carnet et Journal sur la campagne de Russie: Extraits du Carnet de Sabretache, années 1901-1092-1906-1912 (Paris: Librarie Historique F. Teissèdre, 1997), 52. In a 20 November 1812 letter to his minister of foreign relations (Maret), Napoleon expressed his concern about Ney’s situation: “I despair that I’ve yet to have any news of Marshal Ney.” Napoleon to Maret, 20 November 1812, Correspondance, No. 19343, XXIV, 362-63.

[66] D’Hautpoul.  See also “Ney à Berthier” in Lettres de 1812, ed. Arthur Chuquet (Paris: Librarie Ancienne, 1911), 206-07 in which Ney informs Berthier of his arrival at Orsha.  Prior to Ney’s junction with IV Corps, rumors that Ney had been cut off had begun to affect the morale of the Grande Armée, so much so that Napoleon issued orders to Marshal Berthier to assure the army that Ney had once again rejoined the army and had reached Orsha.  Napoleon to Berthier, 21 November, Correspondance, No. 19345, XXIV, 363-64.

[67] D’Hautpoul; Meneval, 77; Pelet, “Carnets,” 53; and Caulincourt, 230.

[68] Robert Wilson, Narrative of Events during the Invasion of Russia by Napoleon Bonaparte and the Retreat of the French Army (London: John Murray, 1860), 282.

[69] Petre, 281-82.

One thought on “Marshal Ney and the Art of the Retreat

  1. I think that in historical terms, the brilliance of a military personality is more important than his possible tactical deficiencies. Marshal Ney also owes his fame less to his military successes than to his conduct in defeat, notably the retreat from Russia in 1812, the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 and his execution in December of the same year.
    He will always be the most famous marshal of the Empire, alongside Murat. But while Murat, with his eccentric personality, largely had his own advantage in mind, Ney fought only for France, and his “treason” against Louis XVIII was only committed to avoid a civil war in France.

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