But all this vigilance did not remedy the evil. The soldiers who were unable to keep up with their corps increased visibly; they encumbered our rear. I gave an account to the Emperor, whom I joined at the bivouac three leagues on this side of Smolensko, of the melancholy picture that I had had incessantly before my eyes during the whole of my journey. "It is the effect of long marches; I will strike a great blow, and every one will rally. You come from Wilna. What is Hogendorp doing? he is wallowing in indolence. Has he not his wife with him?" I knew nothing about it; I could not answer. Napoleon replied, "If he had his wife, she must go back to France, or at least that he must send her to Germany on the rear. Berthier is going to write to him." Some papers were brought in that had just been translated; some were the accounts of the victories in which some handfuls of Cossacks had beaten us all; others were proclamations and addresses, in which we were designated as a troop of missionaries. "See," said Napoleon to me, "you had no suspicion that we were apostles; but here it is proved that we are coming with damnation for the Russians. These poor Cossacks are going to become idolators. But here is another of a different kind; here, read, it is pure Russian. Poor Platoff! All are of equal strength in these dreary climates!" I read it; it was a long rhapsody with which the patriarch seasoned a relic of St. Sergius that he offered to the Emperor Alexander. He ended it with this paragraph: "The city of Moscow, the first capital of the empire, the new Jerusalem, receives its Christ, as a mother, in the arms of her zealous sons; and through the mist which is rising foreseeing the brilliant glory of his power, it sings in transports, Hosanna, blessed be he who cometh! Let the arrogant, the brazen Goliath carry from the borders of France mortal terror to the confines of Russia; pacific religion, this sling of the Russian David shall suddenly bow the head of his sanguinary pride. This image of St. Sergius, the ancient defender of the happiness of our country, is offered to your Imperial Majesty."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The affair of Smolensko took place. The battle was obstinate, the cannonade violent. The Russians, taken in flank and enfiladed, were defeated. They could not defend those walls which so many times had witnessed their victories; they evacuated them; but the bridges and public buildings were a prey to the flames. The churches in particular poured out torrents of fire and smoke. The domes, the spires, and the multitude of small towers which arose above the conflagration, added to the effect of the picture, and produced those ill-defined emotions which are only to be found on the field of battle. We entered the place. It was half consumed, of a barbarous appearance, encumbered with the bodies of the dead and wounded, which the flames had already reached. The spectacle was frightful. What a train is that of glory!
We were obliged to turn our views from these scenes of slaughter. The Russians were flying; our cavalry rushed to the pursuit, and soon came up with the rear-guard. Korff attempted to make a stand; he was overwhelmed. Barclay came forward with his masses. We, on our side, received reinforcements; the action became terrible: Ney attacked in front, Junot on the flank: the enemy's army would have been cut off if the Duke had pressed forward. Wearied with not seeing him appear, Murat ran to him, "What are you about? Why do you not come on?" "My Westphalians are wavering." "I will give them an impetus." The King of Naples put himself at the head of a few squadrons, charged, and overthrew every thing that opposed him. "There is thy Marshal's staff half gained; complete the work, the Russians are lost." Junot did not complete it; whether from fatigue or distrust, the brave of the brave slumbered amidst the sound of the cannon, and the enemy, who were coming up to support their rear, again fell back on their line. The engagement became terrible; the brave Gudin lost his life, and the Russian army escaped us. Napoleon visited the places where the battle had been fought. "It was not at the bridge—it is there—at the village, where the eighth corps ought to have debouched—that the battle hinged. What was Junot doing?" The King of Naples endeavoured to extenuate his fault: the troops, the obstacles, all the customary commonplaces were employed. Berthier, who had always loved the Duke, interested himself for him; Caulincourt did the same. Every one pleaded to the utmost in favour of a brave man who could be reproached with nothing but a moment of forgetfulness. But the advantages we had lost were too great. Napoleon sent for me. "Junot has just lost for ever his Marshal's staff. I give you the command of the Westphalian corps: you speak their language, you will show them an example, you will make them fight." I was flattered with this mark of confidence, and expressed my sense of it; but Junot was covered with wounds, he had signalized himself in Syria, in Egypt, every where; I begged the Emperor to forget a moment's absence of mind on account of twenty years' courage and devotion. "He is the cause of the Russian army not having laid down its arms. This affair will, perhaps, hinder me from going to Moscow. Put yourself at the head of the Westphalians." The tone with which he pronounced these last words was already much softened. The services of the old aide-de-camp extenuated the inactivity of the 8th corps. I resumed: "Your Majesty has just talked to me of Moscow. The army is not in expectation of such an expedition." "The glass is full, I must drink it off. I have just received good news: Schwartzenberg is in Wolhinia, Poland is organizing, I shall have every kind of assistance."
I left Napoleon to make known to the Prince of Neuchâtel and the Duke de Vicenze the disgrace with which Junot was threatened. "I am afflicted," said the Prince to me, "to see his troops taken from him; but I cannot but own that he has caused the failure of one of the finest operations of the campaign. See on what the success of war depends; on the forgetfulness, on the absence of a moment: you do not seize the occasion in its flight, it disappears, and returns no more. No one has more courage or more ability. He adds to the qualities of the soldier the most extensive knowledge; he is intrepid, clever, agreeable, and good-natured. He forgot himself for an hour; he has made himself many enemies. However, I and Caulincourt will see what is to be done." They managed so well that Junot kept his post. I was very glad of it; first, because it saved him from disgrace, and next because I did not much like his troops. Unfortunately, lassitude had succeeded the impetuosity of his youth. He did not show at the battle of Moscowa that elasticity, that energy, of which he had so many times given an example; and the affair of Vereia raised to its height the dissatisfaction of the Emperor.
We learnt, some days after, the irruption of Tormasoff. We were uneasy; we discussed these long points, on the dangers to which one is exposed in advancing to an excessive distance beyond the line of one's operations. Without doubt Napoleon heard us. He came to us, talked a good deal of the manner in which he had secured the rear, of the corps which formed our wings, and of that chain of posts which extended from the Niemen to our actual position. "Tormasoff," he said to us, "has put all the children at Warsaw in alarm. They saw him already officiating at Prague; but see, he is sent back quicker than he came." He went into his closet, and began to dictate with indifference, but loud enough to prevent us losing a word, instructions for the Duke de Belluno.
Napoleon to the Major-General.
"Dorogobuj, August 26, 1812.