None of this would have mattered too much had Wittgenstein chalked up a victory over Napoleon. Failure at the battle of Lutzen brought out the knives. Already prone to intervene in military operations, Alexander became even more inclined to do so as criticisms mounted of the new commander-in-chief. Unfortunately, these criticisms were often justified. Wittgenstein was out of his depth as commander-in-chief. Brave, bold, generous and even chivalrous, Wittgenstein was an inspirational corps commander but he could not master the much more complex requirements of army headquarters where authority could not always be exercised in face-to-face manner and painstaking administration and staff work were required to keep a large force operational. According to Mikhailovsky-Danilevsky, Wittgenstein’s headquarters was chaotic, with little discipline or even elementary military security being exercised over the many hangers-on who came to infest it.52
In the last days of April, as Napoleon advanced from Erfurt towards Leipzig, the allies deployed just to the south of his line of march near the town of Lutzen. Either they must try to ambush Napoleon or they must retreat rapidly so that he could not reach Dresden before them and cut off their retreat over the Elbe. The choice was not difficult since to retreat without a battle when first encountering Napoleon would damage the troops’ morale and the allies’ prestige in Germany and Austria. A surprise attack which caught the enemy on the march might defeat him, or at the very least slow down his advance.
The allied plan was devised by Diebitsch. He aimed to catch part of the enemy army while it was strung out on the march and to destroy it before the rest of Napoleon’s corps could come to its aid. The consensus is that the plan was good but its execution very flawed. This is not surprising. Wittgenstein brought with him his own staff. Almost all top positions at headquarters changed on the eve of the battle. To take but one example: Ermolov was replaced as chief of artillery by Prince Iashvili, who had previously headed the artillery of Wittgenstein’s corps. Ermolov was already in some disfavour because of his failure to bring up the artillery parks with ammunition supplies at sufficient speed, but the sudden transfer of responsibility to Iashvili resulted in the new artillery chief not knowing the whereabouts even of all the ammunition that was to hand. Further confusion occurred because this was the first time that large Russian and Prussian forces had fought side-by-side.
Diebitsch’s plan included columns moving at night to take up positions for attack by 6 a.m. on 2 May. Predictably, confusion occurred, columns bumped into each other and even the first allied line was not deployed until five hours later. Matters were not helped by the fact that the plans often arrived very late and were detailed but not always precise. To some extent the delay may even have worked in the allies’ favour, however. During the five hours that elapsed, Napoleon and the bulk of his army was marching away from the battlefield and towards Leipzig, convinced that no battle would occur that day. In addition, had the battle of Lutzen commenced at dawn, Napoleon would have had a full summer’s day to concentrate all his forces on the battlefield, with possibly dire results for the outnumbered allies.
The allies’ initial target was Ney’s isolated corps deployed near the villages of Grossgörschen and Starsiedel. It helped Wittgenstein that Ney had dispersed the five divisions of his corps and failed to take proper precautions. The initial attack by Blücher’s Prussians took the enemy by surprise. The allied high command found itself equally surprised, however, by the fact that Marmont’s corps was positioned in support of Ney and by the nature of the ground over which the battle was fought. This suggests that, despite their superiority in cavalry, allied reconnaissance was less than perfect. George Cathcart, the son of the British ambassador to Russia, was with Wittgenstein’s headquarters. He commented that because of the undulating, cultivated terrain it was impossible to see from allied headquarters what lay beyond the first high ground where the enemy was positioned. The initial Prussian attack on Grossgörschen succeeded ‘but Grossgörschen is only one of a cluster of nearly contiguous villages, interspersed with tanks, mill ponds, gardens etc., which furnished strong holding ground’. The villages on the battlefield were of ‘stone houses with narrow, cobbled lanes and stone-walled gardens’.53