THE RETREAT--REVIEW OF MY KNAPSACK--THE EMPEROR IN DANGER--FROM MOJAISK
TO SLAWKOWO.
During the evening of October 18th, when, according to our daily
custom, several non-commissioned officers were assembled together,
stretched at full length like pashas on ermine, sable, lion and bear
skins, smoking costly tobacco in magnificent pipes, an enormous
silver bowl filled with punch before us, above which a huge loaf of
sugar was melting, held in its place by two Russian bayonets--just
as we were talking of France and of the glory of returning there
as conquerors after so long an absence, just as we were composing
farewells and promises of fidelity to our female Mongol, Chinese,
and Indian friends--we heard a tremendous noise in the large room
where the soldiers of our company slept. And who should enter but the
Quarter-master with the announcement that we must hold ourselves in
readiness to leave. The next day (the 19th) the town was filled with
Jews and Russian peasants--the first-named to buy of the soldiers what
they could not carry away, the last to pick up what we threw into the
streets. We heard that Marshal Mortier was to remain at the Kremlin
with 10,000 men to defend it if necessary.
We set out in the afternoon, packing some liquor from our stores on
Mother Dubois's cart, as well as our large silver bowl; it was almost
dark when we got outside the town. We found ourselves amongst a great
number of carts and waggons, driven by men of every nationality, three
or four in a line, and stretching for the length of a league. We
heard all round us French, German, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and
other languages also, for there were Muscovite peasants among them,
and a great number of Jews. This crowd of people, with their varied
costumes and languages, the canteen masters with their wives and crying
children, hurried forward in the most unheard of noise, tumult and
disorder. Some had got their carts all smashed, and in consequence
yelled and swore enough to drive one mad. This was the convoy of the
whole army, and we had a great deal of trouble in getting past it. We
marched by the Kalonga road (we were then in Asia); soon we stopped to
bivouac in a wood for the rest of the night. As the hour was already
far advanced, we had not long to rest.
We resumed our march at dawn, but before we had gone a league we again
met a large part of the fatal convoy, which had passed us while we were
asleep. Most of the carts were already shattered, and others could not
move, the wheels sinking deep in the sandy road. We could hear screams
in French, oaths in German, entreaties to the Almighty in Italian, and
to the Holy Virgin in Spanish and Portuguese.
After getting past this babel we were forced to wait for the left of
the column. I spent the time in making an examination of my knapsack,
which seemed too heavy. I found several pounds of sugar, some rice,
some biscuit, half a bottle of liqueur, a woman's Chinese silk dress,
embroidered in gold and silver, several gold and silver ornaments,
amongst them a little bit of the cross of Ivan the Great[21]--at
least, a piece of the outer covering of silver gilt, given me by a man
in the company who had helped in taking it down. Besides these, I had
my uniform, a woman's large riding-cloak (hazel colour, lined with
green velvet; as I could not guess how it was worn, I imagined its
late owner to be more than six feet high): then two silver pictures
in relief, a foot long and eight inches high; one of them represented
the Judgment of Paris on Mount Ida, the other showed Neptune on a
chariot formed by a shell and drawn by sea-horses, all in the finest
workmanship. I had, besides, several lockets and a Russian Prince's
spittoon set with brilliants. These things were intended for presents,
and had been found in cellars where the houses were burnt down.
No wonder the knapsack was so weighty! to lighten it, therefore, I
left out my white trousers, feeling pretty certain I should not want
them again just yet. I wore over my shirt a yellow silk waistcoat,
wadded inside, which I had made myself out of a woman's skirt; above
that a large cape lined with ermine, and a large pouch hung at my
side, underneath the cape, by a silver cord. This was full of various
things--amongst them, a crucifix in gold and silver, and a little
Chinese porcelain vase. These objects seemed to have escaped the
general ruin by a sort of miracle, and I still keep them as relics.
Then there were my powder-flask, my firearms, and sixteen cartridges
in my cartridge-case. Add to all this a fair amount of health, good
spirits, and the hope of presenting my respects to the Mongol, Chinese
and Indian ladies I hoped to meet, and you will have a very good idea
of the Vélite sergeant of the Imperial Guard.
I had scarcely finished reviewing my treasures[22], when in front
of us we heard a report of firearms: we were ordered to set off in
double-quick time. We arrived half an hour afterwards at the place
where part of the convoy, escorted by a detachment of red Lancers of
the Guard, had been attacked by partisans. Several of the lancers were
killed, also some Russians and many horses. Near a cart was a pretty
woman, stretched on her back on the ground, killed by the shock. We
marched on by a fairly good road, and stopped in the evening to bivouac
in a wood.
Early the next morning we resumed our march, and met at noon a party of
Cossacks of the regular army. The artillery made short work of them. We
marched for most of this day over fields, and at night encamped on the
banks of a stream.
There was rain on the 22nd, and it was slow and difficult walking
all day. In the evening we posted ourselves near a wood. During the
night we heard a loud explosion. Afterwards we discovered that Marshal
Mortier had blown up the Kremlin, putting a great quantity of powder
in the cellars. He left Moscow three days after we did with his 10,000
men. Two of the regiments were the Young Guard, which we met on the
road to Mojaisk a few days afterwards. For the rest of the day we got
on very slowly, although we were marching all the time.
On the 24th we found we were near Kalonga, and that same day, at
Malo-Jaroslawetz, the army of Italy, commanded by Prince Eugene,
engaged the Russian army, which was endeavouring to prevent our
passage. In this bloody struggle 16,000 of our men met 70,000 Russians.
The Russians lost 8,000 men, and we 3,000. Many of our superior
officers were killed and wounded--amongst them General Delzous, struck
on the forehead by a ball. His brother, a Colonel, in trying to save
him, was himself shot, and both died together on the same spot.
On the 25th I had been on guard since the previous evening near a
little house where the Emperor had spent the night. There was a thick
fog, as there often is in October. All at once, without informing
anyone, the Emperor mounted his horse, merely followed by some orderly
officers. He had scarcely gone, when we heard a great noise. Just
at first we supposed it to be cries of 'Vive l'Empereur!' but then
we heard the order 'Aux armes!'--'To arms!' Six thousand Cossacks,
commanded by Platoff, had come to surprise us, favoured by the fog
and the deep ravines. The squadrons of the Guard on duty flew across
the plain. We followed them, crossing a ravine to make a short-cut.
We found ourselves directly in front of this host of savages, who
howled like wolves as they drew back. Our squadrons came up with
them, recaptured what they had taken of our baggage and waggons, and
inflicted heavy losses on them.
When we got to the plain, we saw that the Emperor was in the midst of
the Cossacks, surrounded by Generals and by his orderly officers, one
of whom was dangerously wounded through a fatal mistake. Just as the
squadrons arrived on the plain, many of the officers, for their own
defence and that of the Emperor, who had nearly been taken in the midst
of them, had been obliged to use their swords against the Cossacks. One
of the orderly officers dropped his hat and his sword after killing and
wounding several of the Cossacks; so, finding himself defenceless, he
threw himself on a Cossack, and took his lance from him. Just at that
moment a mounted Grenadier of the Guard caught sight of him, and,
thinking from his green cloak and his lance that he was a Cossack,
rushed at him, and ran him through the body.
The unhappy Grenadier, on seeing his mistake, endeavoured to get
killed. He flung himself amongst the enemy, striking to right and left,
but everyone fled before him. After killing several men, without being
able to die himself, he returned, alone and covered with blood, to ask
after the officer he had wounded. Fortunately he recovered, and was
taken back to France in a sledge.
I remember that, just after this incident, the Emperor was talking
to Murat, laughing at the narrow escape he had had of being taken.
Monfort, the Grenadier-vélite from Valenciennes, again distinguished
himself, killing and wounding many Cossacks.
We waited for some time longer in this place, and then resumed our
march, leaving Kalonga on the left. We crossed a muddy river by a very
bad bridge, and took the direction of Mojaisk. It began to freeze
during the night.
On the 28th we started very early, and during the day, after passing
over a little river, we arrived at the famous battlefield (the
Moskowa), covered all over with the dead, and with débris of all
kinds. Legs, arms, and heads lay on the ground. Most of the bodies
were Russians, as ours had been buried, as far as possible; but, as
everything had been very hastily done, the heavy rain had uncovered
many of them. It was a sad spectacle, the dead bodies hardly retaining
a human resemblance. The battle had been fought fifty-two days before.
Further on we fixed our bivouac, passing on our way the great redoubt
where General Caulaincourt had been killed and buried. We sheltered
ourselves as well as we could, and made a fire with broken remains of
rifles, carts, gun-carriages. We had no water, however, for the little
stream flowing near was full of decaying bodies. We had to go a quarter
of a league to find any fit for drinking. When we had everything
settled, I went with a friend[23] to explore the battlefield; we went
as far as the ravine where Murat had pitched his tents.
On that same day a report went round that a French Grenadier had been
found still living on the battlefield. He had both his legs cut off,
and was sheltered by the body of a horse, whose flesh he had eaten to
keep himself alive. His drink was the water from the stream full of
the dead bodies of his comrades. I heard that he was saved--and no
doubt for the time it was true--but afterwards he would be left behind,
like so many others. That evening many whose store of provisions had
come to an end began to feel hunger. Up till then everyone contributed
his share of flour for the soup; but now, seeing that some did not
contribute, men began to hide what they had to keep it for themselves.
The soup made out of horseflesh--which we had eaten for the last few
days--was all we had to eat in common.
On the following day we passed near a convent, used as a hospital for
many of our wounded in the great battle. Many of them were still there,
and the Emperor gave orders for them to be taken away on any of the
carts, beginning with his own; but the canteen men, who had the care
of these unfortunate people, left them for one pretext or another on
the road, in order to keep all the booty they had brought from Moscow,
which filled their carts.
We slept that night in a wood behind Ghjat, where the Emperor stayed.
Snow fell for the first time during the night.
The next day (the 30th) the road had become very heavy, and many carts
laden with booty had the greatest difficulty in getting along. Several
were damaged, and others were lightened by throwing away useless parts
of the load. I was that day in the rear-guard, and could see from the
extreme rear of the column the beginning of the frightful disorder
that followed. The road was heaped with valuable things--pictures,
candlesticks, and quantities of books. For more than an hour I was
picking up volumes, which I glanced through, and then threw down
again, to be taken up by others, who in their turn left them on the
road--books such as Voltaire, Jean Jacques Rousseau, and Buffon's
'Natural History,' bound in red morocco and gold.
I had the good fortune that day to obtain a bearskin coat found by
a man in our company in a broken-up waggon. On the same day our
_cantinière_ lost her cart containing our provisions, and our beautiful
silver punch-bowl of so many pleasant memories.
On the 30th we got to Viasma--called by our men Ville au Schnaps, on
account of all the brandy they had found there on going to Moscow. The
Emperor stopped here, but our regiment went forward.
I forgot to say that before arriving at this town we made a halt, and
while I was resting near a little pine wood I met a sergeant in the
Chasseurs of the Guard, whom I knew.[24] He had taken advantage of
a ready-made fire to cook a potful of rice, and invited me to share
it. He had with him a _cantinière_ of the regiment--a Hungarian. They
were the best friends possible. She still had her cart with two horses
intact, well filled with provisions, furs, and silver. I stayed for
more than an hour with them. While I was there a non-commissioned
Portuguese officer came up to warm himself at our fire. I asked him
where his regiment was, and he replied that it was dispersed, but
that he, with a detachment, was under orders to escort seven or eight
hundred Russian prisoners. They had no food, and were reduced to eating
each other. Literally, when one of them died, he was cut up and divided
between them, and afterwards eaten. He offered to let me see for
myself--this I refused. This took place not a hundred yards from our
resting-place. We learnt some days afterwards, that, having no food for
the rest, they had been abandoned.
The sergeant and _cantinière_ of whom I spoke afterwards lost
everything they had at Wilna, and were both taken prisoners.
On November 1st we slept near a wood, as we had done the preceding
night. For the last few days we had nothing but horseflesh to eat. The
few provisions we had brought from Moscow were all gone, and now, with
the cold weather, our real miseries began. I had saved a little rice
for myself, which I meant to keep for a great pinch, foreseeing much
greater hardship in the future.
I was in the rear-guard again to-day. We were all non-commissioned
officers, as many of the men stayed behind to rest and warm themselves
at the fires made by those in front. As I walked, I saw to my
right several men from different regiments round a large fire. The
Adjutant-Major sent me to tell them to follow, and when I got near
them I recognised Flament, a Dragoon-vélite. He was cooking a piece
of horseflesh on the point of his sword, and invited me to join him.
I asked him to follow the column. He said that he would come as soon
as he had finished his meal, but that he was unfortunately obliged to
walk in his riding-boots, as in an encounter with the Cossacks the day
before his horse had strained himself, and he was forced to lead the
animal. Luckily, I was able to give Flament a pair of shoes, so that
he could walk like a foot soldier, and said good-bye to him, little
thinking that I was not to see him again. Two days afterwards he was
killed near a wood, just as he and some other stragglers were lighting
a fire to rest themselves.
On the 2nd, before getting to Slawkowo, we saw close to the road a
_blockhaus_, or military station--a kind of large fortified shed,
filled with men from different regiments, and many wounded. All those
who could follow us did so, and the slightly wounded were placed, as
many as possible, in our carts. Those more seriously wounded were left,
with their surgeons and doctors, to the mercy of the enemy.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 21: I forgot to say that in the middle of the large
cross of Ivan the Great was a small one in solid gold about a foot
long.--_Author's Note._]
[Footnote 22: On account of the Continental blockade, a rumour ran
through the army that we were to penetrate into Mongolia and China, and
seize the English possessions there.--_Author's Note._]
[Footnote 23: Grangier, a sergeant.--_Author's Note._]
[Footnote 24: This man's name was Guinard; he was a native of
Condé.--_Author's Note._]