CHAPTER XIV
The French Invasion—and after
“Now, Robber! look what thou hast done:
Come, for the strife prepare thee.
This land we fight on is our own—
And God’s revenge is near thee!
Zhukovski “Napoleon.”
NOT unfrequently Russia has been treated by the powers of western Europe with less consideration for justice than they have observed in their dealings with each other, but on no occasion has a civilised country more grossly outraged the sense of right than did France by its memorable campaign of 1812. It is possible that Napoleon still felt piqued because his offer to enter the Russian army had been declined by Zaborovski in 1789—a rejection which the old general had many times keenly regretted long before 1812—and it may be that Napoleon resented his refusal by the Princess Katerina, and was disgusted that the hand of the Princess Anna, which he had subsequently sought in marriage, had been bestowed in preference upon a German princelet. It is idle to suppose that technical breaches of the treaty of Tilsit by Russia—who was unable to stop commercial relations with England—were anything more than a mere pretext for the war. Like the wolf in the fable who had determined to devour the lamb that had disturbed the lower waters of the stream, any excuse served this wickedly ambitious upstart to gratify his lust for further spoils and military glory. Doubtless Napoleon—before whom Latin and Teutonic kings bowed low and their subjects trembled when he but feigned to unsheath his sword—expected that the formidable preparations he made for war would awe Russia into submission, and thus gratify his vanity: but Russia heeded his bluster as little as did England, so, with the eyes of Europe upon him, he had no option but to drink up the liquor he had uncorked. Russia doubted his seriousness, but regarded the inevitable with equanimity. It seemed improbable that France, after centuries of enlightenment and progress, with its professed love of philosophy, art and culture, should raid Russia for pelf—just as Tartars, Kalmucks, and hordes of rough unlettered barbarians out of Asia had done in ages past. If it were so to be, Russia doubted not but she could triumph over the forces of the west even as she had done over those of the east.
On the 10th June 1812 the French army crossed the Niemen unopposed, and five days later occupied Vilna, where Napoleon expected attack, but, unmolested for eighteen days, moved on towards Vitebsk. The Russian army, commanded by Barclay de Tolly, did nothing more than cause the invaders to manœuvre unceasingly, and advance further into the country. On the banks of the Dvina Napoleon thought to end the campaign of 1812; recuperate his army and march against Moscow the following spring; but as yet no action had been fought, so he again hurried on after the Russians, this time towards Smolensk.
It is held that the withdrawal of the Russians disconcerted Napoleon; but he had already met other armies than the English, so to him this retreat of his enemy was not new. He expected to come up with the Russians at Smolensk, but Barclay de Tolly, although assuring the inhabitants of their safety, sent away the treasure and had determined to abandon the town. It was garrisoned by but one regiment when Neverovski fell back upon it after his engagement with the French at Krasnœ. Raevski, sent to his aid, entrenched his troops and determined to hold the town until the two armies under Tolly and Bagrateon, then encamped on the left bank of the Dnieper, should arrive. But they fell further back instead of advancing, and after one day’s fighting, with terrible loss, the Russians evacuated after setting fire to the town. Napoleon remained there four days, then followed the Russians towards Moscow. Notwithstanding his proclamations of amity towards the peasants, his promises of freedom for the serfs, the people began to realise that the march of the Grande Armée was as disastrous as an incursion of the Tartar Horde. The country was devastated; the houses were pillaged; the owners shot; churches deserted; horses stabled in the sacred places; holy ikons burnt; matrons and maidens ravished by these heroes of the “twenty nations” of the west. Resistance there must be and the villagers took up arms; Kutuzov took chief command of the army, but Barclay de Tolly still gave his advice, and General Sir Robert Wilson remained tactical counsellor. On August 24th (old style) the Russians gave battle on the banks of the Moskva, near Borodino. In this “battle of the generals” about 120,000 men were engaged on each side, and 80,000 were killed, among them 18 generals and 15 other officers of high rank in the French army; and 22 commanding officers on the Russian side. Over 50,000 corpses and 30,000 dead horses were found in the field of battle, and though the Russians retreated, the French halted five days, then they moved forward upon Moscow, being nearly starved and quite tired of the war. Kutuzov had then to decide whether or not to risk another battle in an attempt to save Moscow.
At the Council of War, held at Fili. Barclay de Toily said that when it was a matter of the salvation of Russia, Moscow was only a city like any other. Other generals, like Grabbe, declared that although it would be glorious to die before Moscow, the question they had to decide was not what would add to their glory, but to the defeat of the enemy. Prince Eugen of Wurtemburg held that honour ought to be placed before all, and that Moscow ought to become the tomb of every true Russian, all should choose death rather than flight. Wilson, whose object was rather the defeat of Napoleon than the preservation of Russia, said Moscow, to them, must be only a city, “like any other.” Ermolev, Ostermann, Beningsen and others were in favour of a last battle. “Amid such diverse counsel.” said Kutuzov, “my head, be it good or bad, must decide for itself,” and he ordered a retreat through the town, but he himself would not enter it, and wept as he hurriedly passed the suburbs.
During the first decade of the eighteenth century there were joyous days in Moscow; in 1801 Alexander was crowned; in 1803 he revisited the town when there were public rejoicings for the victories over the Turks; when in 1812, after the outbreak of hostilities Alexander came to Moscow, the patriotic citizens promised to raise 80,000 men in that district and equip them. The Tsar returned to St Petersburg and appointed Count Rostopchin governor; a clever man, courtier, wit, cynic, he proved an able administrator, possessed the gift of inciting and controlling the uneducated masses, so his plan to destroy the city escaped opposition from the inhabitants.
Rostopchin studied the peasants’ ways and knew how to throw dust in the eyes of all. “I do everything to gain the goodwill of everybody. My two visits to the Iberian Mother of God, the freedom of access I allow to all, the verification of weights and measures, even the fifty blows with a stick to a sub-officer who made the mujiks wait too long for their salt, have won me the confidence of your devoted and faithful subjects. I resolved at any disagreeable news to question its truth; by this means I weaken the first impression and before there is time to verify it, other news will come which will need to be attended to.” The Government mistrusted the people, most of whom are serfs, and might allow themselves to be tempted by the proclamations of “freedom for all” which were issued by Napoleon. Rostopchin gave the patriot Glinka 300,000 roubles to be used as would best serve the interests of Moscow, but Glinka returned the money, for all were ready enough to resist the invader. Rostopchin invented victories: he caused news of one by Ostermann and another by Wittgenstein to be promulgated, and though sensible people did not believe him, the ignorant were faithful to the end. “Fear nothing,” he said to the citizens; “a storm has come; we will dissipate it; the grist will be ground into meal. Some think Napoleon is coming to stay; others that he thinks only to skin us. He makes the soldiers expect the Field-Marshal’s baton, beggars think to get gold, and while such simpletons await him, he takes them by the neck and hurls them to death.” Again: “I will answer with my head that the scoundrel shall not enter the city; if he attempts this I shall call on all. Forward, comrades of Moscow! Let us out to fight. We shall be 100,000; we shall take with us the ikon of the Virgin, 150 guns and be sure we shall finish the affair one and all.” After Borodino he issued another proclamation: “Brothers, we are many and ready to sacrifice life for the salvation of our land, and prevent the scoundrel entering Moscow; you must help. Moscow is our mother; she has suckled us, nursed us, enriched us. In the name of the Mother of God I call on you to help to defend the Holy Places of Moscow, of Russia! Arm yourselves how you can, on foot or horseback, take only enough food for three days, go with the Holy Cross, preceded by the standards from the Churches, and assemble on the three Hills. I shall be there, and together we will exterminate the invaders. Glory in Heaven for those who go! Eternal peace for those who die! Punishment at the Last Day for all who hold back!”
To the last Rostopchin nursed the illusion of the citizens; he told them men were at work upon some wonderful military engine—a fire balloon—which would destroy the French army instantaneously. Meanwhile the Archbishop Augustine, who had ordered the procession through the town of the ikons of the Iberian Mother of God, the Virgin of Smolensk, was instructed to take the sacred treasures to Vladimir. Rostopchin had but one serious complaint against Kutuzov; he had asked for three days’ notice if the town was to be abandoned, he got but twenty-four hours. Everything of value that could be removed was packed and sent away; there was a general exodus on the night of the 1st September (old style) and Rostopchin left with the Russian army, the rear-guard of which was quitting the city by the Preobrajenski suburb at the same time that the advance-guard of the French army entered it by the Dragomilov Zastava. Before he left Rostopchin opened the prisons, gave the lowest class the entry to the arsenal, and ordered the stores to be fired; also, he put to death one Vereshchagin, accused of publishing Napoleon’s proclamation, a deed that was no less criminal because needless. And here Rostopchin’s work ended; if he had received longer notice of Kutuzov’s decision to abandon the town he would doubtless have saved more of the valuable portable property of state and church, and might have destroyed the town. With reference to all the correspondence that ensued as to the party responsible for the firing of Moscow, it can be said only that Rostopchin and the Russians would like to have had the credit for making a so magnificent sacrifice, but it was of political expedience that the Russians should believe the destruction of the holy places and their revered city directly due to the invader.
The apologists of Napoleon attribute his misconduct of the campaign to ill-health; as likely as not the thwarting of his plans by the enemy, his defeats and doubtful victories caused his illness. Whether his genius failed him or not, there can be no doubt of the magnitude of the conception and the utter ineptitude exhibited in its execution. After Borodino his generals lost faith in him; they remained taciturn and morose, until at two o’clock on the afternoon of September the 2nd, the staff obtained their first view of Moscow from the summit of the Poklonnaya Hill, the “salutation” point of the Sparrow Hills. In the bright sunlight of the early autumn, the city, resplendent with gold domes and glittering crosses, seemed the fitting goal for their long deferred hopes and they of one accord raised a joyful shout, “Moscou! à Moscou!”