THE EVACUATION OF MOSCOW[43]
[Footnote 43: References: Marguerou: Campagne de Russie,
specially part III. Bertin: La campagne de 1812 d'apres des
temoins oculaires. Mosbach: Der Uebergang ueber die Beresina
aus ungedruckten Denkw. d. polnischen Obersten Bialkowski,
Streffleur's "Oesterr. militaer. Zeitschrift," 1875.
Clausewitz: "Ueber die Schlacht a.d. Beresina," letter to
Stein, published in the "Hist. Zeitschrift" for 1888. George:
Napoleon's Invasion of Russia. Fabry: Campagne de
Russie,1812, Operations Militaires.]
The Reasons for Napoleon's Advance -- The Importance of Moscow --
The Burning of the City -- The French Occupation -- The Military
Situation -- Alexander's Steadfastness -- Napoleon's Impatience
-- The Strategic Problem -- The Exaggeration of the Factors --
The Plan of Retreat -- Malojaroslavetz -- Napoleon's Vacillation.
Some insight into the state of Napoleon's mind may be secured by
contemplating his conduct during and after the battle of Borodino.
That conflict was, on the whole, the bloodiest and most fiercely
contested of all so far fought by him. The French losses were computed
by the Emperor at twenty thousand men, those of the Russians were not
less than double the number. Yet the day was not decisive. Napoleon,
suffering from a severe cold and loss of voice, displayed an unwonted
lassitude. Setting a high value on his personal safety, he did not
intervene at crucial moments, as he was wont to do and as he asserted
was essential in the new science of war, for the purpose of
electrifying officers and men. His scheme of rolling up Kutusoff's
line by a double attack on left and center consequently failed, in
the opinion of the greatest experts, because he did not throw in the
guard on the center at the decisive moment. This failure was due to a
disregard of his own maxim that "generals who save troops for the next
day are always beaten"; not divining a complete cessation of
hostilities by Kutusoff, he thought his reserve might be required on
the morrow. It seems, too, as if he were gradually becoming aware of
the dangers attendant on the prolongation of his base to Moscow. At
Mozhaisk he halted three days, doubtless with the hope that Alexander
would open negotiations to prevent the sack of his sacred capital.
During this pause careful orders were issued for the concentration of
a strong French reserve at Smolensk. Victor was summoned to bring in
his thirty thousand men from the Niemen so as to be ready in an
emergency to advance even as far as Moscow. It seems like a case of
wilful self-deception that on the tenth Napoleon wrote to Maret as if
convinced that the exposure of his flanks would escape Kutusoff's
notice, saying that the enemy struck in the heart was occupied only
with the heart, and not with the extremities. This would have been a
justifiable confidence had Borodino been decisive. But it was not
decisive, since the Russian army, far from being annihilated, drew off
with its files, companies, and regiments so far intact as to be easily
available for the quick incorporation of new recruits. This it was
which gave verisimilitude to Kutusoff's boast and made the French
occupation of Moscow a matter of doubtful expediency.
Yet the temptation was irresistible. Mother Moscow, as runs the
caressing Russian phrase, is indeed the source of all Muscovite
inspiration. Watered by the winding stream of the same name, its heart
is the Kremlin, its citadel of Russian architecture, Russian
orthodoxy, Russian authority, and Russian learning. From its
churches are promulgated the authoritative utterances of the Greek
Metropolitan, within its triangular walls is found the most
characteristic Muscovite architecture, behind its portals stand the
largest bell ever cast and the largest cannon ever founded until the
most recent times; statues of Russian heroes adorn its open spaces,
the splendors of its palaces are lavished with Muscovite profuseness,
the edicts of the White Czar thunder over his many million subjects
from its walls. Clustered about the Kremlin are the various quarters
of the town, which cover a space equal to the area of Paris, and
contain about one fourth as many inhabitants. The epithet of "holy
city" is amply justified by the sanctuary-citadel, but its aptness is
further sustained by the three hundred and sixty churches, each with
its tower and onion-shaped cupola, which are scattered through all the
districts. In the beginning of this century Moscow from within
appeared like a congeries of villages surrounded with groves and
gardens, each with its manor-house and parochial church. Around the
whole was a girdle of country-seats, and the beauty of the scene as
viewed by the approaching traveler was such as to kindle enthusiasm in
the coldest breast. The inhabitants had hoped that the "victory" of
Borodino would spare their home the shame of foreign occupation. When
the governor announced that in a council of war it had been decided to
abandon the city, there was first dismay, then fury, then despair. The
long trains of departing citizens wailed their church hymns with
sullen mien and joyless voices.
The surrender was marked by barbarous conduct on the part of the civil
authorities. It has been recounted that by a military convention the
Russian rear-guard had been permitted to withdraw unmolested after
Borodino, in return for a promise not to destroy Moscow. Yet on
September fourteenth, the day of the French occupation, as has also
been told, fires had been kindled in the suburbs, whether by accident
or design cannot be determined. Besides this, on receipt of the notice
to evacuate, such stores as in the short interval could be reached
were destroyed; the prison doors were opened, and a horde of maddened
criminals was set free in the streets. Nevertheless, there was fair
order throughout the fifteenth. Next day a raging conflagration burst
forth. At the time, and long afterwards, this was attributed as a deed
of dastardly incendiarism to the invaders; with the growth of modern
ideas about ruthlessness in warfare, Russian historians have begun to
attribute it to the inhabitants as a heroic measure. It is now
asserted that the governor cast the first brand into his own
country-seat. More probably, the fanaticism of the populace,
heightened by the criminal rage of the escaped prisoners, led to the
almost simultaneous firing of many buildings in various quarters. A
possibility of method in the destruction of the city begins to dawn,
however, when it is remembered that the devastation of the surrounding
country by the fleeing Russians was equally thorough, and was carried
out according to a carefully devised plan.
The entry of the French into Moscow has been compared to the
appearance of great actors before an empty house. When the
conflagration broke out, every effort was made to stop it, and eight
hundred fire fiends were summarily punished. But as the burning walls
of the storehouses fell, the rabble seized the barrels of spirits thus
revealed, and drank themselves into blind fury; the French soldiery
pillaged with little restraint, not sparing even the Kremlin. Finally,
the flames were checked and order was restored, but not until three
quarters of the city proper were destroyed; the Kremlin and the
remaining fourth were saved. On the evening of the fourth day the
French army was disposed in rude comfort within or about the site of
Moscow, and Murat's riders began to bring in reports concerning
Kutusoff's army. To soothe the peasantry of the neighboring districts,
one of the old insidious proclamations was issued, appealing to their
manhood against the tyranny of their rulers. "Die for your faith and
the Czar!" was the answering cry, as they seized the French
stragglers, surprised the garrison of Wereja, and beset the Smolensk
road. Day by day the people labored, the townsfolk helping to gather
the peasants' goods, both classes waylaying the French supply-trains,
and hiding every article of use in vast underground chambers
constructed for the purpose. Consternation filled the invaders, and
their plight became desperate when they learned of the Russian
military dispositions, and understood how Kutusoff already menaced
their safety.
Instigated by Castlereagh, Bernadotte had released the Russian corps
placed at his disposal for conquering Norway, and Wittgenstein, on the
Russian right, thus suddenly acquired a force of forty thousand
wherewith to menace Napoleon's outlying left on the north. By English
mediation, also, a peace was arranged between Turkey and Russia, thus
releasing Tchitchagoff, who promptly joined Tormassoff, and opposed
Schwarzenberg on the extreme French right with nearly two to one.
Meanwhile Kutusoff had taken a position at Tarutino, where he
commanded the left flank of the main French army, and daily received
new recruits, who flocked to fill his depleted ranks. Napoleon had,
since Borodino, been in daily expectation of some communication from
the Czar. His critical situation made him impatient, and on the
twentieth he wrote, informing his strangely silent foe that Moscow was
burned, a misfortune which might have been averted had negotiations
been opened after Borodino. There was no response. On October fifth
Lauriston was despatched to Kutusoff's camp, nominally to secure an
exchange of prisoners. The latter said that the affair must be
referred to St. Petersburg; but the French general learned that the
Russians had extended their line south toward Kaluga to secure the
fertile base behind, and further threaten the long, weak French flank.
Alexander's silent steadfastness was, indeed, remarkable. Hitherto in
every crisis--as, for example, after Austerlitz and Friedland--he had
yielded. Why was he now so firm? Stein, the Prussian patriot, was at
his side; but so was the trusted Rumianzoff, leader of the French
party, which was for peace. The Old Russian party, demoralized by
Napoleon's advance to the heart of the empire, was also clamorous for
peace negotiations. An English embassy, composed of Lord Cathcart and
the body of English officers under Sir Robert Wilson sent to
reorganize the Russian army, had so far been able to accomplish
little, for by all accounts their influence was slight. The improved
military situation no doubt accounts for much, but the best
information goes to show that Alexander moved and talked like one
dazed, feeling himself to be a storm-tossed child of fate. Destitute
of self-reliance, he appears to have been drawn toward Galitzin, whose
piety was eminent, and verged upon mysticism. It is certain that in
those days the Czar for the first time became an ardent Bible reader,
and frequently exclaimed, "The hand of God hath done this!" On leaving
St. Petersburg at last for the seat of war, his parting act was to
found the Russian Bible Society. It was with but small reliance on the
military situation, and with a feeling of providential guidance, that
he determined to renew the conflict.
Thus passed five weeks. Interminable they seemed to the anxious
conqueror at Moscow, who yawned even at the theater; who forgot the
stern abstemiousness of his table habits, and, like a gourmet, spent
hours at his meals merely to kill time; who threw himself into vicious
ways, and contracted a loathsome disease; who lost all interest even
in his troops, and finally, unkempt, preoccupied, and feverish, seemed
indifferent to everything. The crown, scepter, and robe wherewith he
had hoped to be invested as Emperor of the West were not unpacked from
the camp chests. The pompous ceremonies of military occupation were
scrupulously performed; drills, parades, and concerts followed in due
succession; but the Emperor's interest was languid. At last the dreary
waiting became intolerable, the season, although neither early nor
severe, was rapidly advancing, the predatory excursions of the
soldiers into the surrounding country were growing longer, more
difficult, and less fruitful of results with every day. The elements
of danger were hourly increasing in an appalling ratio. Daru advised
turning Moscow into an armed camp and wintering there. "A lion's
advice," said Napoleon, but he put it aside. The question of retreat
would soon be imperative, and that he sometimes discussed, but only
languidly, until, on October eighteenth, without warning, a truce made
by Murat was broken, and his command driven in. Then at last the
captain in Napoleon awakened, the emperor vanished, the retreat was
ordered, and universal empire, a dependent Czar, the march from Tiflis
to the Ganges, England humiliated, and the ocean liberated--all were
forgotten in the presence of reality. Robe, scepter, and crown were
never seen again.
Political considerations prompted a movement of withdrawal toward the
northwest, as if against St. Petersburg, but military considerations
prevailed, and between the two alternatives--a direct retreat to
Smolensk through a devastated land, or a circuit south-westward,
through fertile districts, toward Kaluga, as if to attack
Kutusoff--the choice fell on the latter. The reason is clear. The seat
of war was within a triangle marked by Riga, Brest-Litovski, and
Moscow; from Riga to Moscow, the left flank, is five hundred and fifty
miles; from Riga to Brest, the base, is three hundred and seventy-five
miles; from Brest to Moscow, the right flank, is six hundred and fifty
miles; the perpendicular from Moscow to the base, which was the
shortest line of retreat, is therefore about five hundred and
seventy-five miles. These distances are all enormous; on the left were
only forty-two thousand men, on the right, about thirty-four thousand;
along the line, forty-two thousand. The diagram, if drawn, will
display all the peculiarities of Napoleonic formation in mass,
abstractly considered, but it will likewise display the fact that with
the highest and most perfect army organization then known, it would
have been well-nigh impossible to work the combination. Neither of the
monstrous flanks could be held by the comparatively scanty forces
available; the line of operation was equally weak. What safety was
there for the army in retreat? None.
There will never be complete agreement as to the causes of Napoleon's
disaster in Russia. A comparison of the relative values of
mass-formation, tactics, and organization in modern warfare, which
uses railroads and telegraphs, with the distances practicable in
present-day operations, must nevertheless reveal the chief cause--that
the Napoleonic organization had not kept pace with the development of
Napoleonic strategy. The emperor had overweighted the general, the
former having soared into an ether which would not sustain the
pinions of the latter. The well-used plea of an "act of God" will not
stand. The autumn of 1812 was mild, the winter late in opening.
Neither cheerless steppes, nor phenomenal cold, nor unheard-of snows,
nor any reversal of nature's laws,--not even the motley nationalities
of the grand army, or an unhistoric migration from south to
north,--none of these was the chief cause of failure, which is to be
found in the attempt monstrously to exaggerate the factors of a
strategic system evolved for national, but not for continental,
proportions.
The first and natural thought of a direct retreat to Smolensk was
momentarily entertained; but it had to be abandoned because, with weak
flanks and a bare country, the distance was too far. The same was true
in regard to the move toward St. Petersburg--the distance was too
great for the conditions. The circuit toward Kaluga was first
considered as a feint to throw the Russians off the scent; it became a
necessity when they assumed the offensive in the unforeseen and
unexpected attack on Murat. The Emperor did not dare to expose his
flank and rear to an advancing foe, and accordingly his army was
assembled on the road toward Kaluga. Should he advance or await a
further movement of the enemy? Evidently the former, otherwise the
entire moral effect of the first offensive would be lost. A long march
had to be extended still farther, partly for strategic reasons, but
chiefly in order to secure an additional advantage of the first
importance; to wit, sustenance from the country when the distances
were too great for the workings of any feasible commissariat
department. If the Russians should even momentarily be deceived into
believing that the French had resumed the offensive, a line from
Kaluga direct to Smolensk would still be open for retreat while the
enemy was preparing for action.
The report was spread in Moscow that Napoleon was going out to
overwhelm Kutusoff and then return. Mortier, with eight thousand of
the young guard, remained behind, his orders being to blow up the
Kremlin before leaving. The main army advanced across the river Pachra
and moved toward the Lusha. There was as yet no word of the enemy;
possibly he had been misled and was advancing directly on Moscow.
Napoleon, therefore, turned westward in the hope that he might reach
Kaluga without opposition. On the twenty-fourth the Russian van
appeared. Had Kutusoff acted on his correct information and thrown
forward his whole army, a decisive battle might have ended the
invasion. As it was, Eugene, after a bloody conflict at
Malojaroslavetz, remained master of the field, and the timid Kutusoff
drew back his force. Meantime the truth leaked out in Moscow.
Suspicion was excited, as the resident French observed not merely the
immense booty packed in the officers' baggage, but also the loads of
Muscovite art treasures under which the government wagons groaned.
They were quick to act, and soon, accompanied by women and children,
they joined the march with all the paraphernalia of their household
goods. From the first this throng, uniting with the usual horde of
stragglers and camp-followers, prevented all rapid movements by the
army; in fact, but for them the half-senile Kutusoff would not have
been able to show even his van to the French line. Mortier's effort to
destroy the Kremlin failed, and served no purpose except to exhibit
the thirst for revenge of a savage nature brought to bay.
In short, every plan of Napoleon's seemed ineffectual, and indecision
marked his every act. Eugene's terrible struggle had resulted in a
list of wounded numbering four thousand. The old Napoleon would have
abandoned them and then have attacked Kutusoff even in the forest
defiles where he was ensconced; or else he would have pressed on past
Kaluga, or would have swiftly wheeled to regain the northern road
toward Smolensk. The harried, sick, exhausted man of 1812 did none of
these things, but called a council of war, and weighed the arguments
there presented for nearly a week, when, finally, he decided, and with
forced marches drove his columns toward the northern road to Smolensk.
He wrote to Junot that his motive for delay was to provide for the
suffering from his depot at Mozhaisk, but, in fact, he had not waited
long enough materially to assist the wounded, and had secured no
advantage from the bloody battle. In the absence of trustworthy
information he took (when once he did move) a long, circuitous road.
As yet there was no cold except the usual sharpness of autumn nights;
but the summer uniforms of the troops were tattered and their shoes
worn. Germans, Italians, and Illyrians began to straggle, and the
horrors of the approaching cold, as depicted by Russian prisoners,
sank deep into the minds of the dispirited French, so far away from
their pleasant homes.