For the first time the allied troops encountered a fundamental difference between Saxon and Russian battlefields. On the latter, wooden villages offered no help to defenders. Solid Saxon stone walls and buildings were a very different matter and could sometimes be turned into small fortresses. Ney’s troops were inexperienced but they were courageous and, in the nature of such soldiers, they drew strength from being able in part to fight behind fixed, stone defences. The Prussian infantry also showed extraordinary courage, urged on by officers desperate to wipe away the shame of Jena. The result was a ferocious battle that swung from side to side as villages were lost and then regained by fresh, well-ordered reserves whose swift counter-attacks caught the enemy before it had regained its breath and organized itself to defend its recent gains. The brunt of the fighting was borne by the Prussian infantry, with the Russians only entering the battle in their support well into the afternoon. From this moment Eugen of Württemberg’s corps in particular was heavily engaged and suffered many casualties first in recapturing the villages and subsequently in holding off the growing threat to the allies’ right flank.
The key to the battle was, however, that Ney’s and Marmont’s men were just able to hold the allied attacks long enough for first Napoleon himself and then other corps to arrive on the battlefield. It did not help the allied cause that faulty planning and reconnaissance meant that Miloradovich’s corps remained inactive only a few kilometres from the battle. Even had Miloradovich’s men been present, however, it would not have altered the outcome. Given the greatly superior French numbers of infantry and Napoleon’s skill in using them, once the whole French army was concentrated on the battlefield victory was certain. By the late afternoon, with MacDonald threatening to turn the allies’ right and Bertrand their left, Wittgenstein was being forced to commit his reserves at a time when Napoleon would soon have many fresh troops to hand.
Clausewitz argued that Lutzen was more a drawn battle than an allied defeat. At the end of the day the allies still stood on the battlefield and had inflicted more casualties than they had suffered. Their retreat was forced, not by defeat, but by the presence of overwhelming enemy numbers. According to Clausewitz, had they not fought at Lutzen this numerical inferiority would have forced the allies to retreat anyway without even slowing down the French advance to the degree achieved by the battle of Lutzen. There is something in this argument but also a touch of special pleading. It is true that Lutzen was not a serious defeat but it could well have become one with just two more hours of daylight.54
After the battle the allies made an orderly retreat across Saxony, recrossing the Elbe and reaching Bautzen in eastern Saxony on 12 May. For most of the way Miloradovich commanded the rearguard and did so with great skill. This allowed the rest of the army to move back in a calm and unhurried manner. At Bautzen the allies enjoyed almost a week’s rest before Napoleon’s troops fully caught up with them. The Russians by now had no equals in Europe when it came to rearguard actions and withdrawals. It would have taken far better cavalry than anything Napoleon possessed in 1813 to shake them. As a result of Lutzen, however, the King of Saxony, who had sat on the fence for two months, swung back into Napoleon’s camp. The Saxon garrison of Torgau, the last fortified crossing of the Elbe not in French hands, was ordered to open its gates to Napoleon. Its commander, Lieutenant-General von Thielemann, delayed as long as possible and then fled with his chief of staff to the allied camp. Uncertainty as to whether Saxony would join the allies had constrained requisitioning in April. By the time King Frederick Augustus’s position became clear it was too late for the retreating allies to milk the kingdom, whose rich resources were to sustain Napoleon’s war effort for the next six months.55