jold's overall purpose, desired only to lead his column of infantry forward and attack the main enemy army. Forgetting or ignoring the Field Marshal's basic order to remain parallel, he swung off even farther to the right after passing the last line of redoubts because the ground there seemed easier to cross. With every step, he and his six battalions were marching farther away from the main body of troops. In fact, Lewenhaupt was enormously pleased to be off by himself away from Rehnskjold, who, he grumbled, had treated him "like a lackey."
Now, the direction of Lewenhaupt's march lay straight toward the main Russian fortified camp. The large camp was by this time very wide awake, and as he marched forward, Russian artillery on the rampart opened fire on his men. But Lewenhaupt, now happily independent, was undeterred by the prospect of leading his six battalions against the entire Russian army, and his ranks went forward in textbook formation. Within musket range of the Russian entrenchment, he discovered that his advance was blocked by an unexpected ravine. Undaunted, he began to move his soldiers around this obstacle, still cheerfully preparing to storm over the Russian rampart at the head of 2,400 men into the midst of 30,000.
Meanwhile, to the left of the redoubts on the far side of the field from Lewenhaupt, the main Swedish force was the only one of three divisions which had followed the original plan, no doubt because it was commanded by Rehnskjold himself. Once the Russian cavalry had departed the field, the two infantry columns of this force hurried past the redoubts as envisaged, taking casualties from the flanking fire but penetrating quickly into the field beyond. It was here that the entire Swedish infantry of eighteen battalions had been scheduled to rendezvous in preparation for the attack on the Russian camp. For the moment, the officers with Rehnskjold were jubilant; everything seemed to be going according to plan. As the six battalions of the left reached the rendezvous point and wheeled into position, officers came up to congratulate the King, who had been carried on his stretcher through the redoubts with the infantry and was now sipping water while his wounded foot was redressed.
Unfortunately, as Rehnskjold looked around for the remainder of his infantry, there was nothing to be seen. Twelve battalions— the forces assigned to Lewenhaupt and Roos—were missing. Within moments, Lewenhaupt's six battalions were located: Far out in front and to the right, they were heard being fired upon as they worked their way around the ravine at the southwest corner of the Russian camp. Rehnskjold urgently dispatched a messenger, ordering Lewenhaupt to abandon his approach to the camp from that direction and immediately rejoin the main force waiting for him at the western edge of the field. When Lewenhaupt received the order, he was furious. Although he had only infantry—his force lacked even a single piece of artillery—he had already overrun two of the Russian redoubts blocking his path, and he was at the point of storming over the southern rampart of the Russian camp with sword and bayonet. This southern rampart was weakly defended, and Lewenhaupt with his 2,400 men was about to achieve the classic Swedish objective in battle: to bear down with momentum on a weak point in the enemy line, break through and then roll up the opposing army, using panic and confusion as allies. Whether by breaking over the wall into Peter's camp his tiny force would actually have been able to panic Peter's army is questionable. These Russians were not the raw recruits of Narva, but disciplined veterans. In addition, Peter was already moving the army to the front of the camp and assembling it for battle, which is why Lewenhaupt found the southwest corner thinly defended. Had his fiery Swedes actually come over the wall and found themselves confronted by ten times as many Russians prepared for battle, they might have had initial success, but, unsupported, they soon would have been engulfed. In any case, to Lewenhaupt's dismay, they were commanded to withdraw, and they withdrew.
It was now six a.m. There was a lull in the fighting as far as most of the Swedish army was concerned. The main body, with Rehnskjold, the King, the cavalry and one third of the infantry, had moved northwest past the front of the Russian camp to the pre-planned position from where it could strike either at the camp or at the Petrovka river crossing. Lewenhaupt's six battalions, retiring from the camp's southern wall, were making their way toward Rehnskjold; when they reached the main body and fell into place, Rehnskjold would have twelve of his eighteen infantry battalions. But where were the other six?
They were in fact still south of the cross line of six redoubts, which were for the most part still in Russian hands, and still struggling under Roos' command to take the third and fourth of the forward redoubts by assault. The effort was gallant and at the same time pathetically irrelevant. The only purpose in attacking the protruding redoubts had been to mask the march-past of the main army; that done, the assault battalions had been supposed to abandon the effort and hurry to rejoin the main body. But no one had told Major General Roos, and this gallant officer was still trying to do what Swedish officers were supposed to do: capture the objective in front of him.
The battle at the redoubts did not last much longer. Three times Roos assaulted the redoubts, and three times he was repulsed. Finally, with forty percent of his men killed or wounded, he decided to withdraw. His intention then was to join the main army, but he had no idea where it had gone. Needing time to reform his shattered force into companies and battalions, he began to retreat into a wood east of the redoubts. Many of his wounded men tried to follow, crawling on their hands and knees.
Meanwhile, Peter was standing on the western rampart of his camp and looking out over the field. He saw that the Swedish army had passed through the redoubts and now was massing to his right on the northwest. At the same time, watching Lewenhaupt's withdrawal, he saw that a clear path was open from his camps to the redoubts which had resisted Roos. At once, the Tsar ordered Menshikov with a powerful force—five battalions of infantry drawn from the main camp and five regiments of his own dragoons, 6,000 men in all—to find Roos in the woods, attack and destroy him. This force would also be available to reinforce Poltava, the road to which now lay open. As Menshikov's first squadrons approached them, Roos' beleaguered men took them for Swedish reinforcements. Almost before they discovered their mistake, the Russians were upon them. Under the fire of the advancinng Russian cavalry and infantry, Roos' shattered ranks crumbled completely. In fierce hand-to-hand fighting, most of his men were killed or captured. Roos himself escaped with 400 men, fleeing south with Menshikov's horsemen close behind. Near Poltava, the Swedes threw themselves into an abandoned trench, but once again the Russians closed in. At last, mauled, pursued, outnumbered, Roos had no choice but to surrender. Just as he was led away, the sound of cannon to the northwest began in earnest. The first shots of the real battle were being fired, but Roos and his
men would not be there. Before the main Battle of Poltava had begun, six battalions, one third of the Swedish infantry, had been annihilated to no purpose. The disaster can be blamed on Roos for persisting too long, or on Rehnskjold for not trusting his officers and briefing them more thoroughly before battle began. But the real fault was that the brain of the Swedish army was missing. The clear, unhurried, commanding mind which all Swedes obeyed without question simply was not functioning at the Battle of Poltava.
As soon as Rehnskjold, waiting with the King and other officers, discovered the absence of Roos' force, he sent a messenger back to find out what had happened. The messenger returned to report that Roos was still attacking the first redoubts and was in difficulty. Rehnskjold hurriedly dispatched two cavalry regiments and two additional infantry battalions to Roos' aid. Meanwhile, the main body of the Swedish army could only wait. The Swedes were standing within cannon range about one mile from the northwest corner of the Russian camp, fully exposed to the enemy. Inevitably, the Russian artillery shifted its fire onto them. The cannonballs began to take a toll of heads, arms, legs; one ball killed two Guardsmen standing near the King. Another ball hit the King's stretcher. For the officers in the vicinity, this was an added concern; in addition to their other worries and responsibilities, they were forced to worry about the King's safety. Under this fire, some of the Swedish infantry was moved south into the wooded terrain of Maly Budyschi to find cover from the Russian guns. It was at this point that Lewenhaupt and the others fervently regretted the decision to leave most of the meager Swedish artillery behind. The Swedes had only four field guns to answer the seventy cannon firing from the Russian camp.