Three inspections of the Russian army in 1812
"The Feat of Raevsky's Soldiers" (1912) by artist Nikolai Samokish, illustrating the battle near Saltanovka on July 11 (23), 1812
The night before the Battle of Borodino, a quartermaster officer needed a plot of land. He needed to select a site for the corps, measure out the space for the regiments, move the units in, and wait for a decision on artilleryThe small drawing ceased to be a sketch of a plan. Its lines became the distance the men would have to travel in the dark and hold under fire in the morning.
В previous article The focus was on the officer-mediator, translating the superior's will into orders, movements, and reports. The finale promised to test this chain where paper met execution. The 1812 campaign presented it with not just one test, but several: Borodino, Tarutino, and Maloyaroslavets.
Place for the case
Ivan Liprandi later recalled how quartermasters, before Borodino, accepted sections and deployed troops. Elena Nazaryan compared this account with award documents and archival materials about the service of quartermaster officers. Later memory and award documents are both subject to their own distortions: the former knows the outcome, the latter distributes credit. However, they agree on one thing: staff work wasn't limited to maps. The officer led the unit to its destination, sometimes under fire.
Behind this nighttime work lay a density of organization new to the Russian army. Regiments were organized into permanent divisions, each division had an artillery brigade, and two infantry divisions formed a corps. The quartermaster unit surveyed positions, drew croquis (a quick, hand-drawn sketch or sketch of a terrain area, usually by eyeballing or measuring distances to landmarks), plotted routes, and deployed units. These forms cannot be entirely attributed to Napoleonic borrowings. Russian cartography, artillery, and staff service had their own genealogy; the division and corps belonged to a pan-European development. French victories demonstrated the scale and pace of their consolidation, and the wars of 1805–1807 forced the Russian army to learn faster.
The mere existence of levels didn't mean they functioned equally well. With a combined strength of approximately 220 men in the three Western armies, the entire quartermaster unit of His Imperial Majesty's Retinue consisted of 10 generals, 58 staff officers, and 99 senior officers. The shortfall was made up for by seconded line officers. Organizational levels already existed, but there were not enough quartermaster officers to support them.
Illustration by artist V. G. Shevchenko from the 1970s, "But our open bivouac was quiet..." for M. Yu. Lermontov's poem "Borodino"
Therefore, the night before Borodino was more important than a convenient picture of a ready-made command vehicle. A drawing might indicate the corps' location, but the location still had to be found, accepted, and occupied. Between the line on the sheet and the battalion on the ground stood a man who was not entitled to the authorship of the plan or the glory of the attack. Whether the unit would meet the morning where the general order awaited it depended on him.
On the morning of August 26/September 7, it wasn't the design of the system that was being tested, but its ability to withstand a massive battle. Here, it's especially easy to return to the old pairing: Russian bayonet versus French fire. But orders and tactical reconstructions destroy this opposition. Back in 1811, Kutuzov demanded accurate fire and a properly functioning weapons, and Barclay, in the spring of 1812, pointed out the weakness of firearms training in many units. Before Borodino, both again reminded them to fire at actual range and not to rush.
Painting by artist Nikolai Samokish "The Life Guards Lithuanian Regiment in the Battle of Borodino" (1911)
Fire, bayonet and batteries
Alexander and Yuri Zhmodikov depict Russian infantry in lines, battalion columns, squares, and skirmish lines. Formations changed from sector to sector and as the battle progressed. Yevgeny Württemberg's 4th Infantry Division, advancing from the right flank toward Raevsky's battery, moved and reformed as the situation dictated. A single memoir episode doesn't describe the entire army, but it does illustrate the mission: to move a large force across the field, maintain control under artillery fire, and change the formation at the right moment.
In the parlance of the era, a bayonet charge didn't necessarily mean a prolonged hand-to-hand fight. One side often retreated before physical contact; a successful move was preceded by fire, enemy disorder, and careful timing. The bayonet remained a means of applying pressure and finishing an attack, but it was no substitute for marksmanship. Russian combat code required an officer to move forward and hold his men back; modern combat required this move to be prepared by fire and coordinated with neighboring units.
Thus the first boundary of the dual legacy was revealed. The old habit of personal responsibility was not supplanted by the new tactics. On the contrary, the line, column, and chain needed an officer capable of restoring order after losses. But personal example was effective only within the visible area. For its result to translate into corps movement, communications, reserves, and collective action were required. Borodino tested whether personal courage could be channeled through organization.
Sergei Troshin's painting "The Feat of Artillerymen at the Raevsky Battery" depicts an episode of the defense of Kurgan Heights during the Battle of Borodino in 1812.
Russian artillery approached the war not as a late copy of the French. The lightening of guns, the standardization of components, the regulation of calculations, the development of arsenals and production facilities had roots in Gatchina and more broadly in Russia. As Alexei Sudarikov demonstrates, French practice became a challenge and a benchmark, particularly in the preparation and concentration of fire, but it was not the sole starting point for reform. By 1812, the artillery brigade was already a permanent part of the division—with men, horses, guns, ammunition boxes, and transport.
On the Borodino field, material readiness met with the difficulty of mass control. The Russian army had a large reserve, but batteries were often committed at the request of local commanders and at the initiative of commanders, sometimes one at a time against concentrated enemy fire. The reserve was mostly expended, but this did not mean that all available artillery contributed equally or that its fire was concentrated in the right place. Guns were delivered to the army, but orders did not always allow for the concentration of their fire.
Batteries and the army after Borodino
Individual batteries, meanwhile, operated nimbly: supporting columns, changing positions, delivering oblique fire, and replenishing from reserves. There's no contradiction here. Excellent crew work and weak concentration at the army level could coexist. It's precisely this distinction that often blurs the narrative of "superior artillery": the quality of men and equipment is mistaken for the quality of their overall management.
The death of Chief of Artillery Alexander Kutaisov in an infantry counterattack makes the borderline almost tangible. His personal presence proved useful in the crisis, but the army lost a man whose position entailed coordinating the entire artillery force. One cannot infer all subsequent difficulties from one death: I. P. Liprandi later believed the weakness in concentration to be more profound. Yet Kutaisov's actions reveal an old code in a new position. The system's chief acted as a frontline officer, and the system continued the fight without its chief.
Painting by Nikolai Semenovich Samokish "Attack of the Life Guards Lithuanian Regiment" (1912)
Borodino did not pass judgment on any tradition. The Russian army maintained organized resistance until nightfall and then retreated as ordered; it was not destroyed, but neither could it continue the fight in the same position. The small outline survived the transformation into a place and a formation. Transforming numerous batteries into a single fire proved more difficult.
Mass warfare tested command even after the last shot was fired. Dmitry Tselorungo, using the records of the 1st and 2nd Western Armies, cites 110,935 men in active service before Borodino and 70,688 after—64 percent. In the 2nd Army, the denominator was different: 35,393 before the battle and 17,207 after—49 percent. This is not a share of "the entire Russian force" or a modern diagnosis of combat readiness. The records show men listed as active and capable of operating under the accepted accounting system.
Painting by Russian battle artist Alexander Yuryevich Averyanov "Bivak" (1991)
Numbers are important not as a final assessment of the day, but as a transition to the next task. The army needed to be withdrawn, united under a single command, replenished, stationed, and supplied again. At the Tarutino camp, it gained time and support from the Kaluga province. The steadfastness demonstrated on the field became a strategic asset only because afterward there existed a camp, roads, stores, reinforcements, and administration.
The supply system, too, cannot be considered either a mere decoration or a flawless machine. Before the war, reserves, rationing, artillery depots, and supply departments were established. During the campaign, the role of the provincial administration and mobile stores increased. Sergei Gavrilov also points out the downside: the placement of some bases near the border, a lack of transport, and the division of powers complicated operations after the invasion. Official regulations could assign a person in charge, but they did not shorten the distance.
Supply and control failure near Tarutino
Dominique Lieven provides a scale, not an accounting benchmark: an army of 120 men and 40 horses required approximately 850 wagons just for daily food and forage. This isn't Kutuzov's actual supply train or a coefficient for other calculations. The number shows why the line on the map became a supply road. An order to create mobile stores was sent to twelve governors, but most of the supply trains didn't keep up with the autumn offensive.
Painting by the German artist Peter von Hess "The Battle of Tarutino, October 6 (18), 1812"
The combat code held up not because the soldier could endure it indefinitely. He endured as long as the state and the army managed to return men, bread, fodder, and ammunition to the ranks. After Borodino, this was sufficient to resume action. But Tarutino demonstrated that a restored mass is not yet the same as a controllable mass.
The plan for the attack at Tarutino on October 6/18, 1812, called for several columns to be secretly led through the forest and attack Murat's vulnerable left flank at dawn. The disposition was proposed by Bennigsen, prepared by Quartermaster General K. F. Toll, and approved by Kutuzov. Toll and the Quartermaster General's staff were responsible for planning the routes: reconnaissance information about the enemy had to be translated into routes for the corps, and an agreed-upon time and place for departure. Therefore, Tarutino is important not only as a victory lap. Here, the plans were tested by movement in the dark.
The initial blow had to be endured. The absence of Chief of Staff Yermolov, who was not immediately found that evening, was a real part of the chain of events, but it does not provide a complete explanation. According to V.A. Bessonov's reconstruction, the order signed by Bennigsen passed through Konovnitsyn's Army Duty Office and could only be sent with Kutuzov's special approval. Yermolov was ordered to be found only around five o'clock in the evening; by eight o'clock, the corps commanders had not yet received orders, the cavalry and artillery horses were foraging or watering, and the units were not ready to move.
Having received the belated order, Yermolov began distributing instructions, after which Kutuzov personally cancelled the move. The records and memoirs, collated by Bessonov, reveal the late sanction, the disruption of the transmission, the unpreparedness of the horses and units, and the subsequent cancellation. They do not establish Kutuzov's motive. Bessonov's proposed explanation for his slowness remains a historiographic reconstruction, not direct testimony from the commander-in-chief.
When the movement finally began, Orlov-Denisov's column reached its designated location, while a significant portion of the infantry arrived late or lost its way. The actions of Tolya, Bennigsen, and Eugene of Württemberg overlapped; the apportionment of personal blame remained debatable. The mechanism of the failure was undeniable: the difficulty of the nighttime journey was compounded by delayed orders and unclear authority. The headquarters could have conceived a plan that it had not yet been able to reliably implement throughout the entire army.
Success was real, however. Murat retreated, the Russians captured guns, banners, and equipment, and the main army's first attack after a long retreat had a strong morale boost. The enemy detachment, however, was not destroyed, and large reserves were not deployed, so the operational result was less than possible.
From a lost route to a new order
Tarutino changes the meaning of personal initiative. At Borodino, it closed a sudden gap in a visible area. In a night maneuver involving hundreds of units, one determined officer could no longer replace a timely order to all addressees and a single route for each column. The blueprint proved too complex to be a good plan, but not executed well enough to become the same drawing on the ground.
A few days later, another line emerged near Fominsky. Initially, it was assumed that a separate French detachment was there, which Dmitry Dokhturov's corps could counter. Partisan intelligence revealed otherwise: Napoleon's main army was facing them. The dangerous attack was called off, and the 6th Corps was sent to Maloyaroslavets and the New Kaluga Road.
The full chain of informants in the research corps hasn't been reconstructed, so the scene doesn't need fictional messengers and dialogue. Its action is clear enough without embellishment: new information changed the order's address, the order changed the corps' route, and the route led the troops to a road on which the enemy's further advance depended. After the Tarutino night, the difference wasn't the appearance of another Russian soldier or a completely new headquarters. The sequence itself became shorter and clearer.
Painting by battle painter Alexander Averyanov "The Battle of Maloyaroslavets, October 12 (24), 1812"
During the Battle of Maloyaroslavets on October 12/24, 1812, the city changed hands several times and was ultimately destroyed. Franco-Italian units held the city, while the Russian army held the southern position and access to the Kaluga road. Therefore, the convenient label of a tactical victory explains less than the geography. The battle's strategic significance arose from the combination of reconnaissance, the timely movement of the corps, tenacious fighting, and the direction of supplies. It's impossible to prove that Dokhturov's single decision turned the entire French army; it can be seen as preventing the Russian corps from striking blindly and helping to close the crucial road.
Even here, the old and the new are not separated into separate parts. The 6th Jäger Regiment was linked by regimental memory to Bagration and Suvorov's 1799 campaign, yet, according to Dominic Lieven, approximately 60 percent of its strength at Maloyaroslavets consisted of new recruits and militiamen. Here, Lieven directly draws on A. A. Vasiliev's research on Maloyaroslavets. This connection speaks to the regiment's memory and form, not to the personal Suvorov training of most of its soldiers. The tenacity of the replenished unit was sustained by its formation, officers, neighbors, and a common goal.
Maloyaroslavets didn't prove a mature staff machine. It demonstrated a more modest and therefore more convincing achievement: information had become a solution, the solution a route, and the route the corps' presence on the right road. Where this chain was completed, personal action ceased to be solitary.
Line on the ground
The three scenes do not form a ladder of continuous progress. After the successful linkup at Maloyaroslavets, mobile stores continued to lag, winter clothing remained in the rear, and as the Russian units moved through devastated areas, they also experienced hunger and exhaustion. The campaign did not transform the institutions of various eras into a perfect system. It merely revealed which units were already functioning and under what conditions they disintegrated.
Nor was it a triumph of impersonal organization over the old combat code. At Borodino, officers restored formation, artillerymen shifted positions, quartermasters deployed units. Without personal responsibility, the plan would have remained a collection of lines. But Kutaisov's action had its own price: the commander, who had left to resolve a local crisis like a frontline hero, ceased to fulfill his overall function as coordinator. The new position increased the range of personal action and simultaneously limited the right to expend himself in one area.
E. V. Kamynina. "To Battle!"
Kutuzov and Bagration were part of this army not simply as positions. They were perceived through reputation, the memory of previous campaigns, and the anticipation of a decisive battle. According to a collection of memoirs and documents, Kutuzov's appointment marked a significant emotional turning point after a long retreat; Bagration's name was associated with Suvorov's campaign. But perceptions were not uniform across the entire army and did not replace institutions. Authority might support execution, but it did not plot a route at night, deliver a cavalry box, or construct a wagon.
Therefore, the "dual heritage" remains only a working title. The Russian army did not combine two established halves, but several Russian continuities, French lessons, and pan-European forms. They were united not by an abstract national character, but by a specific service: training, surveying terrain, writing orders, disseminating them, marching a unit, supporting it with fire, and feeding it after the battle.
The small drawing lies between the two men again. It still doesn't need to mark every village; it shows the main locations and what's necessary to understand the maneuver. But after Borodino, Tarutino, and Maloyaroslavets, its brevity takes on a different feel. Behind each line, one can now see a night survey, a battery, the road lost by the column, and a corps that managed to turn back toward the Kaluga route. The drawing remains small. The ground beneath it has grown larger.
Literature
- Zhmodikov A., Zhmodikov Y. Tactics of the Russian Army in the Napoleonic Wars. Vol. 2: Tactical Changes in Response to Napoleon - 1810–1814. - West Chester, OH: The Nafziger Collection, 2003.
- Sudarikov A. M. Preparation of Russian artillery for the war against Napoleonic France // Bulletin of the Leningrad State University named after A. S. Pushkin. - 2014. - Vol. 4. - No. 2.
- Nazaryan E. A. “Under heavy fire, troops were deployed in the most advantageous places...”: quartermasters of the Russian army in the Patriotic War of 1812 // Military-historical journal. — 2022. — No. 12. — P. 58–64.
- Tselorungo D. G. The numerical strength of the 2nd Western Army at the beginning and after the end of the Battle of Borodino (on the issue of the combat readiness of the Russian army after the end of the Battle of Borodino) // The Patriotic War of 1812: Sources. Monuments. Problems: Proceedings of the XXV International Scientific Conference, September 6–7, 2021 — Borodino, 2022. — P. 37–45.
- Bessonov V. A. The Battle of Tarutino. - M.: Kniga, 2008.
- Gavrilov S. V. Organization of supplies of the Russian army on the eve of and during the Patriotic War of 1812 and foreign campaigns of 1813–1815: historical aspects: diss. … Cand. of History. — St. Petersburg: Military Academy of Logistics and Transport, 2003.
- Lieven D. Russia Against Napoleon: The Battle for Europe, 1807 to 1814. - London: Allen Lane, 2009.
Information