That night I never rested for a second. Though removed from the immediate vicinity of the conflagration, the lurid glare of the burning city penetrated the closet in which I sought repose, and female shrieks, and deeper cries of murder, fell loud and frequent on the ear. To add to the horror of the hellish scene, even animal sufferings were added. The watch-dogs, chained at the doors, had not been liberated: and as the flames reached them, their howlings were heart-rending.
God forbid that I should ever witness such a scene again! The next day came. The fire raged more furiously than ever, and murder and violence, and every villany, continued. I strove, if possible, to fly from human crime and suffering; and in the evening found myself clear of the walls of Moscow, in a suburb totally detached, and, to all appearance, entirely deserted.
Generally, the houses were mean, and had belonged to the humbler classes, who live in the environs of a city. Here and there, houses enclosed with gardens and high walls were interspersed; and, as I afterwards understood, were residences of wealthy merchants, who neither would incur the expense or affect the display which the occupancy of nobler mansions within the walls demanded. I looked back—the city was in a blaze—a sheet of fire and smoke, by turns, as the flames were fed or smouldered. The lonely suburb, whither I had wandered, was deserted, but not ravaged. Indeed, here the plunderer would have only wasted time, when within there was so much to repay the most boundless cupidity.
Accident directed me: 1 turned down a narrow passage; a lane led to a garden-gate; it was open, and the ruins of wliat had been a pretty country house were visible. The garden was destroyed—the shrubs and fruit-trees broken—many hoof-marks were apparent in the soft earth; and litter strewed the ground, and showed, that the evening before the Emperor entered Moscow, an advanced picket had made, the chateau and grounds its bivouac. No living thing was visible; a dog-chain hung beside the door of the ruined mansion. Even that was a mute testimony of abandonment.
I was still looking at the deserted building, and fancying the happy home it might have been but a few days since, when a wild and piercing shriek was heard from the rear; and a young girl rushed from behind the house, followed by two Polish lancers, and both were infuriated with brandy. One seized her in his arms. I called on him to desist; but he held her with a firmer grasp, while his companion confronted me—and in a moment both sabres were unsheathed, and we commenced a deadly combat. Of the two, I was the better swordsman;—pressed the villain hard—and would have cut him down.—I heard a wild scream,—a blow from behind stunned me—a dreamy recollection followed of others fighting. The rest is blank.
I awoke—where was I? Candles burned at my bed-side; and an old man, and a girl, particularly handsome, sate at either side.
“Where am I?” was my first question. The girl replied, in tolerable French, and assured me I was in perfect safety, and all around me were friends. Gradually, my memory came back; and in the young female at my side, I recollected her whom I had protected.
It appeared, that in the affray I had with the lancers, I had been cut down by a treacherous blow from the comrade of the fellow I was engaged with. The cries of the girl, and the clashing of sabres, alarmed the family, who came to my assistance too late to save me from injury, but in time to revenge, what they believed to be, my death. The villains were despatched without mercy—their bodies concealed till night, and then carried to a distance, and thrown into a sewer,—a necessary precaution, to prevent the suspicion that might arise should they have been discovered, and their deaths have occasioned inquiry.
Where was I? I looked around, and saw that the apartment was vaulted, and lighted by a lamp. Everything was not only comfortable, but luxurious—and Polowna—for so the fair girl who nursed me was designated, at my request explained the mystery.
Her father and kinsmen were merchants: and when Napoleon menaced Russia with invasion, with more forethought than was generally exercised, they prepared against a visitation that, though not probable, was still within the range of possibility. Beneath their country house, cellars of spacious size had been originally constructed, with a secret entrance, wherein to deposit merchandise which the Russian laws declared contraband. Though long disused, in this season of insecurity they were prepared for a different purpose. When the field of Borodino proved unsuccessful, and Napoleon approached the sacred city, Strenowitz, as the merchant was called, had everything valuable transferred from the chateau to the cellars; and having laid in all necessaries for supplying his family and servants during their confinement, the dwelling was apparently deserted,—and even those who resided in his immediate neighbourhood, believed that he had followed the example of the wealthier Muscowites, and removed into the interior. The destruction of the chateau, by the picket who had occupied it, added to the security of the family;—a ruined house held out no inducement to the plunderer; and, excepting the evening Polowna was surprised by the marauders who had wounded me, and paid the penalty with death, the concealment of Strenowitz escaped any visitation from the enemy, during the period that Napoleon continued to occupy his dearly-bought conquest.