The Emperor said that “he was not altogether satisfied with these reasons. Be it as it may,” he observed, “Moscow has disappeared, and who can compute the wealth that has been swallowed up there? Let us contemplate Paris, with the accumulation of buildings and of industry, the work of centuries. Had its capital, for the 1400 years of its existence, increased but a million a year, what a sum! Let us connect with that the warehouses, the furniture, the union of sciences and the arts, the complete establishments of trade and commerce, &c., and this is the picture of Moscow; and all that vanished in an instant! What a catastrophe! Does not the bare idea of it make one shudder?... I do not think that it could be replaced, at the expense of two thousand millions.”
He expatiated at great length on all these events, and let a word escape him which was too characteristic not to be specially noted down by me. The name of Rostopchin having been pronounced, I presumed to remark that the colour at that time given to his patriotic action had very much surprised me, for he had interested me instead of exciting my indignation: nay, I had envied him!... The Emperor replied with singular vivacity, and with a kind of contraction which betrayed vexation: “If many at Paris had been capable of reading and feeling it in that way, believe me, I should have applauded it! But I had no choice left me.” Resuming the subject of Moscow, he said:—“Never, with all the powers of poetry, have the fictions of the burning of Troy equalled the reality of that of Moscow. The city was of wood, the wind was violent; all the pumps had been taken away. It was literally an ocean of fire. Nothing had been saved from it; our march was so rapid, our entrance so sudden. We found even diamonds on the women’s toilets, they had fled so precipitately. They wrote to us a short time afterwards that they had sought to escape from the first excesses of a dangerous soldiery; that they recommended their property to the generosity of the conquerors, and would not fail to re-appear in the course of a few days to solicit their kindness and testify their gratitude.
“The population was far from having plotted that atrocity. Even they themselves delivered up to us three or four hundred criminals, who escaped from prison, and had executed it,”—“But, Sire, may I presume to ask, if Moscow had not been burnt, did not your Majesty intend to establish your quarters there?”—“Certainly,” answered the Emperor, “and I should then have held up the singular spectacle of an army wintering in the midst of a hostile nation, pressing upon it from all points; it would have been the ship beset by the ice. You would have been in France without any intelligence from me for several months; but you would have remained quiet, you would have acted wisely. Cambacèrés would, as usual, have conducted affairs in my name, and all would have been as orderly as if I had been present. The winter, in Russia, would have weighed heavy on every one; the torpor would have been general. The spring also would have returned for all the world. All would have been at once on their legs, and it is well known that the French are as nimble as any others.
“On the first appearance of fine weather, I should have marched against the enemy; I should have beaten them; I should have been master of their empire. Alexander, be assured, would not have suffered me to proceed so far. He would have agreed to all the conditions which I might have dictated, and France would then have begun to enjoy all her advantages. And, truly, my success depended upon a mere trifle. For I had undertaken the expedition to fight against armed men, not against nature in the violence of her wrath. I defeated armies, but I could not conquer the flames, the frost, stupefaction, and death!... I was forced to yield to fate. And, after all, how unfortunate for France!—indeed for all Europe!
THE BURNING OF MOSCOW.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.
“Peace, concluded at Moscow, would have fulfilled and wound up my hostile expeditions. It would have been, with respect to the grand cause, the term of casualties and the commencement of security. A new horizon, new undertakings, would have unfolded themselves, adapted, in every respect, to the well-being and prosperity of all. The foundation of the European system would have been laid, and my only remaining task would have been its organization.
“Satisfied on these grand points, and every where at peace, I should have also had my Congress and my Holy Alliance. These are plans which were filched from me. In that assembly of all the sovereigns, we should have discussed our interest in a family way, and settled our accounts with the people, as a clerk does with his master.
“The cause of the age was victorious, the revolution accomplished; the only point in question was to reconcile it with what it had not destroyed. But that task belonged to me; I had for a long time been making preparations for it, at the expense, perhaps, of my popularity. No matter. I became the ark of the old and the new covenant, the natural mediator between the old and the new order of things. I maintained the principles and possessed the confidence of the one; I had identified myself with the other. I belonged to them both; I should have acted conscientiously in favour of each. My glory would have consisted in my equity.”
“And, after having enumerated what he would have proposed between sovereign and sovereign, and between sovereigns and their people, he continued: “Powerful as we were, all that we might have conceded would have appeared grand. It would have gained us the gratitude of the people. At present, what they may extort will never seem enough for them, and they will be uniformly distrustful and discontented.”