Fresh Intel from an Unlikely Source

Prussian Landwehr Cavalry
Uniformenkunde, Lose Blätter zur Geschichte der Entwicklung der militärischen Tracht, Berlin, 1890¹
Richard Knötel (PD)

"I tell you, Damian, Fähnrich Nowak is completely lost." Reiter August Domżalski hissed at his fellow Pole, Reiter Damian Więcław.²

"I know, did you see the sign for Gosselies a while back? We're too close to the border. That was the Sambre River we crossed back there."

The two men, Polish in their hearts but Silesian according to the Prussian king, were serving in the Prussian army. If there had been another way to cross western Europe to join Napoléon's army, they would have chosen that. But they had been swept up into the Landwehr, a type of militia, when word of the Emperor's escape from Poland had reached their backwater town. Now they were Prussian uhlans.³ At least they knew how to use a lance, many of their comrades were somewhat clumsy with that weapon.

"Here comes the Fähnrich now." Damian nodded at the horseman picking his way through the thick crops in the field which bordered the river.

Fähnrich Horst Nowak looked out of sorts, as if he'd seen a ghost August said later. He reined in by the two Poles and speaking slowly, as if the two men spoke no German, he said, "The French, are over there." Gesturing back towards the river.

In Polish, Damian remarked, "Well, that way IS France, where else would they be?"

Both of the Poles spoke Polish, German, and Russian fluently, August had a smattering of French as well, his uncle had served in Napoléon's Guard. Invalided out after he'd lost an arm at the Battle of Leipzig, he'd taught his nephew some French. August wondered if that might not come in handy at some point.

"Prussian scouts?" one of the French troopers asked his sergeant.

"Yes, I suppose we should prevent them from returning across the river. There is no way that they missed Gérard's campfires. Le Tondu would rather our crossing into Belgium be a surprise." the sergeant of Chasseurs à Cheval whispered to the men.

A corporal added, "There's a path back there," he nodded at the forest behind him, "which will take us to the nearest crossing, no doubt the crossing those scouts used."

Gently prodding his mount, the sergeant turned the horse's head back into the forest to find the path. He didn't doubt the corporal's knowledge of this area, he had been born and raised nearby.

Napoléon looked up from the dispatch he was reading, "Prussian cavalry? On this side of the river?"

Berthier looked at the man who had brought the message, that man nodded and looked as if he had something to say.

"What is it man?"

"There were three of them, Sire. We captured one of them, a Pole, or so he claims."

The Emperor stood up and walked over to the cavalryman, "A Pole you say?"

"Yes Sire."

The Emperor thought for a moment, then spoke to the cavalryman, "Bring me the prisoner."

Turning to Berthier, "Send for Jerzmanowski, the commander of my Poles can test this fellow."

August Domżalski was still in shock. As they had ridden back to the bridge over the Sambre, they had been attacked by a party of French light cavalry. His friend, Damian Więcław, had instinctively rode at the enemy, he had managed to unhorse one Frenchman, but the others had cut him down.

August had thrown down his lance, he had no desire to die for the Prussian king. As he was manhandled from the saddle and bound up, he watched three Frenchmen ride down Nowak and kill him without mercy.

He had been beaten, his clothing searched for any coin he might have on him, then brought to the French camp, the one he and his late comrades had seen the campfires of. He was frog marched to a cluster of tents when they had arrived. Roughly shoved down to the ground, one of his captors went into one of the tents, no doubt to make his report.

Moments later he found himself standing in front of Napoléon himself and, by his uniform, an officer of lancers. At least he was holding the classic Polish czapka at his side.

Polish Lancer in French Service
The soldier is wearing a czapka. (Headgear)
Wojciech Kossak (PD)

Scarcely had he been dragged into the tent than the Polish officer began barking at him in rapid fire Polish.

"Why do you wear the uniform of those bastards, the Prussians?"

August stood as tall as he could, "When the enemy comes into your village, and drags you to one of their camps and tells you, 'you're a soldier now,' what choice did I have, Sir."

Lieutenant Colonel Jan Paweł Jerzmanowski turned to the Emperor and said, "The man was conscripted into the Prussian army, by his accent I'd say he's from Silesia, the Wrocław area if I'm not mistaken."

Napoléon walked over to August and looked into his eyes, "Do you speak any French?"

August said, "A little, Sire. Enough to get by."

Napoléon nodded, "Are you well enough to join me? Will you join me?"

Before August could answer, the soldier guarding him spoke, "We roughed him up pretty bad, Sire. He's probably got a couple of busted ribs."

"Unbind him, bring Larrey, get this man a chair."

The Emperor and Jerzmanowski had questioned the captive Pole extensively. His regiment was part of the Prussian II Corps, commanded by von Pirch. That corps lay further away than that of Ziethen but the Prussian chief of staff, Gneisenau, had von Pirch's cavalry scouting the length of the Sambre River and the French border along with that of Ziethen.

The man had been cooperative in the extreme, he'd even expressed a desire to join the French army, but Doctor Larrey had pronounced him unfit for duty, "At least for two weeks, the man should be in hospital."

But now the Emperor had a far better picture of the Prussian positions, even those around Charleroi.

"Send out the orders, Berthier. Have Davout, Soult, and Ney, along with all of the corps commanders report to me at once. I intend to have Davout take Reille's II Corps and part of the Cavalry Reserve up the main road to Brussels, d'Erlon's I Corps will follow them and be ready to act as my strategic reserve. The remainder of the army will be under Soult and myself, we shall march on the Prussians."

The messages went out, the Emperor was excited, it seemed that there was a very good chance that the Prussians could be caught with their corps separated allowing them to be destroyed in detail while Davout kept the English and their dogs busy on his left.

Once the Prussians were set to flight, then he would turn the bulk of the army on Wellington's flank and destroy that army in turn.

He would dictate peace from the Royal Palace in Brussels, hopefully the English army would be completely destroyed and its commander captured or killed. Then he'd see if the English wanted to continue the fight.

Without English gold, he doubted that Berlin and Vienna would continue the war.

"A lasting peace, Berthier!"

"Sire?"

"This will be the last coalition raised against me, Berthier, then we shall have peace. A lasting peace.

Berthier, though skeptical, simply answered, "Of course, Sire."

¹ Uniform Studies: Loose-leaf sheets on the history of the development of military dress. Published in Berlin 1890.

² Yes, I know, more foreign names, sorry, not everyone can be named Bob or Ted. But I'll tell you how to pronounce these: Damian Więcław is pronounced (roughly) Dah-mien Vee-en-swoff and August Domżalski is pronounced (roughly) A-oo-goost Dom-zhal-ski. Got those pronunciations from Google Translate, which is handy for how to pronounce things. Oh and Fähnrich is an officer grade just below Second Lieutenant, called an Ensign in some armies.

³ Uhlan is what the Prussians called their lancers, cavalry armed with both sword and lance. Derived from the Polish word "ułan" which in turn comes from the Turkish word "oğlan," meaning "boy" or "young man." The Tatars brought the cavalry, and the word, to the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in the 1700s. In German (and Polish) the word is pronounced "oo-lawn." (In Turkish it's pronounced "oh-lawn.")