But while he was still full of hopes and expectations, Belliard, tired

of this uncertainty, ordered a few horse to follow him; he drove a band

of Cossacks into the Dnieper, above the town, and saw on the opposite

bank the road from Smolensk to Moscow covered with artillery, and troops

on the march. There was no longer any doubt that the Russians were in

full retreat. The emperor was apprised that he must renounce all hopes

of a battle, but that his cannon might, from the opposite bank, annoy

the retrograde march of the enemy.

Belliard even proposed to send part of the army across the river, to cut

off the retreat of the Russian rear-guard, which was entrusted with the

defence of Smolensk; but the party of cavalry sent to discover a ford

went two leagues without finding one, and drowned several horses. There

was nevertheless a wide and commodious crossing about a league above the

city. Napoleon himself, in his agitation, turned his horse that way. He

proceeded several wersts in that direction, tired himself, and returned.

From that moment he seemed to consider Smolensk as a mere place of

passage, of which it was absolutely necessary to gain possession by main

force, and without loss of time. But Murat, prudent when not heated by

the presence of the enemy, and who, with his cavalry, had nothing to do

in an assault, disapproved of this resolution.

To him so violent an effort appeared useless, when the Russians were

retiring of their own accord; and in regard to the plan of overtaking

them, he observed that, "since they would not fight, we had followed

them far enough, and it was high time to stop."

The emperor replied: but the rest of their conversation was not

overheard. As, however, the king afterwards declared that "he had thrown

himself at the knees of his brother, and conjured him to stop, but that

Napoleon saw nothing but Moscow; that honour, glory, rest, every thing

for him was there; that this Moscow would be our ruin!"--it was obvious

what had been the cause of their disagreement.

So much is certain, that when Murat quitted his brother-in-law, his face

wore the expression of deep chagrin; his motions were abrupt; a gloomy

and concentrated vehemence agitated him; and the name of Moscow several

times escaped his lips.

Not far off, on the left bank of the Dnieper, a formidable battery had

been placed, at the spot whence Belliard had perceived the retreat of

the enemy. The Russians had opposed to us two still more formidable.

Every moment our guns were shattered, and our ammunition-waggons blown

up. It was into the midst of this volcano that the king urged his horse:

there he stopped, alighted, and remained motionless. Belliard warned him

that he was sacrificing his life to no purpose, and without glory. The

king answered only by pushing on still farther. Those around him no

longer doubted, that despairing of the issue of the war, and foreseeing

future disasters, he was seeking death in order to escape them.

Belliard, however, insisted, and observed to him, that his temerity

would be the destruction of those about him. "Well then," replied Murat,

"do you retire, and leave me here by myself." All refused to leave him;

when the king angrily turning about, tore himself from this scene of

carnage, like a man who is suffering violence.

Meanwhile a general assault had been ordered. Ney had to attack the

citadel, and Davoust and Lobau the suburbs, which cover the walls of

the city. Poniatowski, already on the banks of the Dnieper, with sixty

pieces of cannon, was again to descend that river to the suburb which

borders it, to destroy the enemy's bridges, and to intercept the retreat

of the garrison. Napoleon gave orders, that, at the same time, the

artillery of the guard should batter the great wall with its

twelve-pounders, which were ineffective against so thick a mass. It

disobeyed, and directed its fire into the covered way, which it cleared.

Every manoeuvre succeeded at once, excepting Ney's attack, the only

one which ought to have been decisive, but which was neglected. The

enemy was driven back precipitately within his walls; all who had not

time to regain them perished; but, in mounting to the assault, our

attacking columns left a long and wide track of blood, of wounded and

dead.

It was remarked, that one battalion, which presented itself in flank to

the Russian batteries, lost a whole rank of one of its platoons by a

single bullet; twenty-two men were felled by the same blow.

Meanwhile the army, from an amphitheatre of heights, contemplated with

silent anxiety the conduct of its brave comrades; but when it saw them

darting through a shower of balls and grape shot, and persisting with an

ardour, a firmness, and a regularity, quite admirable; then it was that

the soldiers, warmed with enthusiasm, began clapping their hands. The

noise of this glorious applause was such as even to reach the attacking

columns. It rewarded the devotion of those warriors; and although in

Dalton's single brigade, and in the artillery of Reindre, five chiefs of

battalion, 1500 men, and the general himself fell, the survivors still

say, that the enthusiastic homage which they excited, was a sufficient

compensation to them for all their sufferings.

On reaching the walls of the place, they screened themselves from its

fire, by means of the outworks and buildings, of which they had gained

possession. The fire of musketry continued; and from the report,

redoubled by the echo of the walls, it seemed to become more and more

brisk. The emperor grew tired of this; he would have withdrawn his

troops. Thus, the same blunder which Ney had made a battalion commit the

preceding day, was repeated by the whole army; the one had cost 300 or

400 men, the other 5000 or 6000; but Davoust persuaded the emperor to

persevere in his attack.

Night came on. Napoleon retired to his tent, which had been placed more

prudently than the day before; and the Count Lobau, who had made himself

master of the ditch, but could no longer maintain his ground there,

ordered shells to be thrown into the city to dislodge the enemy. Thick

black columns of smoke were presently seen rising from several points;

these were soon lighted at intervals by flickering flashes, then by

sparks, and at last, long spires of flame burst from all parts. It was

like a great number of distinct fires. It was not long before they

united and formed but one vast blaze, which whirling about as it rose,

covered Smolensk, and entirely consumed it, with a dismal roaring.

Count Lobau was dismayed by so great a disaster, which he believed to be

his own work. The emperor, seated in front of his tent, contemplated in

silence this awful spectacle. It was as yet impossible to ascertain

either the cause or the result, and the night was passed under arms.

About three in the morning, one of Davoust's subalterns ventured to the

foot of the wall, which he scaled without noise. Emboldened by the

silence which reigned around him, he penetrated into the city; all at

once several voices and the Sclavonian accent were heard, and the

Frenchman, surprised and surrounded, thought that he had nothing to do

but to sell his life dearly, or surrender. The first rays of the dawn,

however, showed him, in those whom he mistook for enemies, some of

Poniatowski's Poles. They had been the first to enter the city, which

Barclay had just evacuated.

After Smolensk had been reconnoitred and its approaches cleared, the

army entered the walls: it traversed the reeking and blood-stained ruins

with its accustomed order, pomp, and martial music, triumphing over the

deserted wreck, and having no other witness of its glory but itself. A

show without spectators, an almost fruitless victory, a sanguinary

glory, of which the smoke that surrounded us, and seemed to be our only

conquest, was but too faithful an emblem.

CHAP. V.

When the emperor knew that Smolensk was entirely occupied, and its fires

almost extinguished, and when day and the different reports had

sufficiently instructed him; when, in short, he saw that there, as at

the Niemen, at Wilna, at Witepsk, the phantom of victory, which allured

him forward, and which he always imagined himself to be on the point of

seizing, had once more eluded his grasp, he proceeded slowly towards his

barren conquest. He inspected the field of battle, according to his

custom, in order to appreciate the value of the attack, the merit of the

resistance, and the loss on both sides.

He found it strewed with a great number of Russian dead, and very few of

ours. Most of them, especially the French, had been stripped; they might

be known by the whiteness of their skin, and by their forms less bony

and muscular than those of the Russians. Melancholy review of the dead

and dying! dismal account to make up and to render! The pain felt by the

emperor might be inferred from the contraction of his features and his

irritation; but in him policy was a second nature, which soon imposed

silence on the first.

For the rest, this calculation of the dead the day after an engagement

was as delusive as it was disagreeable; for most of ours had been

previously removed, but those of the enemy left in sight; an expedient

adopted with a view to prevent unpleasant impressions being made on our

own troops, as well as from that natural impulse, which causes us to

collect and assist our own dying, and to pay the last duties to our own

dead, before we think of those belonging to the enemy.

The emperor, nevertheless, asserted in his bulletin, that his loss on

the preceding day was much smaller than that of the Muscovites; that the

conquest of Smolensk made him master of the Russian salt works, and that

his minister of finance might reckon upon twenty-four additional

millions. It is neither probable nor true, that he suffered himself to

be the dupe of such illusions: yet it was believed, that he was then

turning against himself that faculty of imposing upon others, of which

he knew how to make so important a use.

Continuing his reconnoissance, he came to one of the gates of the

citadel, near the Boristhenes, facing the suburb on the right bank,

which was still occupied by the Russians. There, surrounded by Marshals

Ney, Davoust, Mortier, the Grand-marshal Duroc, Count Lobau, and another

general, he sat down on some mats before a hut, not so much to observe

the enemy, as to relieve his heart from the load which oppressed it, and

to seek, in the flattery or in the ardour of his generals, encouragement

against facts and against his own reflections.

He talked long, vehemently, and without interruption. "What a disgrace

for Barclay, to have given up, without fighting, the key of old Russia!

and yet what a field of honour he had offered to him! how advantageous

it was for him! a fortified town to support and take part in his efforts!

the same town and a river to receive and cover the wreck of his

army, if defeated!

"And what would he have had to fight? an army, numerous indeed, but

straitened for want of room, and having nothing but precipices for its

retreat. It had given itself up, in a manner, to his blows. Barclay had

wanted nothing but resolution. It was therefore, all over with Russia.

She had no army but to witness the fall of her cities, and not to defend

them. For, in fact, on what more favourable ground could Barclay make a

stand? what position would he determine to dispute? he, who had forsaken

that Smolensk, called by him Smolensk the holy, Smolensk the strong, the

key of Moscow, the Bulwark of Russia, which, as it had been given out,

was to prove the grave of the French! We should presently see the effect

of this loss on the Russians; we should see their Lithuanian soldiers,

nay even those of Smolensk, deserting their ranks, indignant at the

surrender of their capital without a struggle."

Napoleon added, that "authentic reports had made him acquainted with the

weakness of the Russian divisions; that most of them were already much

reduced; that they suffered themselves to be destroyed in detail, and

that Alexander would soon cease to have an army. The rabble of peasants

armed with pikes, whom we had just seen in the train of their battalions,

sufficiently demonstrated to what shifts their generals were reduced."

While the emperor was thus talking, the balls of the Russian riflemen

were whizzing about his ears; but he was worked up by his subject. He

launched out against the enemy's general and army, as if he could have

destroyed it by his reasoning, because he could not by victory. No one

answered him; it was evident that he was not asking advice, but that he

had been talking all this time to himself; that he was contending

against his own reflections, and that, by this torrent of conjectures,

he was seeking to impose upon himself, and endeavouring to make others

participators in the same illusions.

Indeed, he did not give any one time to interrupt him. As to the

weakness and disorganization of the Russian army, nobody believed it;

but what could be urged in reply? He appealed to positive documents,

those which had been sent to him by Lauriston; they had been altered,

under the idea of correcting them: for the estimate of the Russian

forces by Lauriston, the French minister in Russia, was correct; but,

according to accounts less deserving of credit, though more flattering,

this estimate had been diminished one-third.

After talking to himself for an hour, the emperor, looking at the

heights on the right bank, which were nearly abandoned by the enemy,

concluded with exclaiming, that "the Russians were women, and that they

acknowledged themselves vanquished!" He strove to persuade himself that

these people had, from their contact with Europe, lost their rude and

savage valour. But their preceding wars had instructed them, and they

had arrived at that point, at which nations still possess all their

primitive virtues, in addition to those they have acquired.

At length, he again mounted his horse. It was then the Grand-marshal

observed to one of us, that "if Barclay had committed so very great a

blunder in refusing battle, the emperor would not have been so extremely

anxious to convince us of it." A few paces farther, an officer, sent not

long before to Prince Schwartzenberg, presented himself: he reported

that Tormasof and his army had appeared in the north, between Minsk and

Warsaw, and that they had marched upon our line of operation. A Saxon

brigade taken at Kobrynn, the grand-duchy overrun, and Warsaw alarmed,

had been the first results of this aggression; but Regnier had summoned

Schwartzenberg to his aid. Tormasof had then retreated to Gorodeczna,

where he halted on the 12th of August, between two defiles, in a plain

surrounded by woods and marshes, but accessible in the rear of his left

flank.

Regnier, skilful before an action, and an excellent judge of ground,

knew how to prepare battles; but when the field became animated, when it

was covered with men and horses, he lost his self-possession, and rapid

movements seemed to dazzle him. At first, therefore, that general

perceived at a glance the weak side of the Russians; he bore down upon

it, but instead of breaking into it by masses and with impetuosity, he

merely made successive attacks.

Tormasof, forewarned by these, had time to oppose, at first, regiments

to regiments, then brigades to brigades, and lastly divisions to

divisions. By favour of this prolonged contest, he gained the night, and

withdrew his army from the field of battle, where a rapid and

simultaneous effort might have destroyed it. Still, he lost some pieces

of cannon, a great quantity of baggage, and four thousand men, and

retired behind the Styr, where he was joined by Tchitchakof, who was

hastening with the army of the Danube to his succour.

This battle, though far from decisive, preserved the grand-duchy: it

confined the Russians, in this quarter, to the defensive, and gave the

emperor time to win a battle.

During this recital, the tenacious genius of Napoleon was less struck

with these advantages in themselves, than with the support they gave to

the illusion which he had just been holding forth to us: accordingly,

still adhering to his original idea, and without questioning the

aid-de-camp, he turned round to his auditory, and, as if continuing his

former conversation, he exclaimed: "There you see, the poltroons! they

allow themselves to be beaten even by Austrians!" Then, casting around

him a look of apprehension, "I hope," added he, "that none but Frenchmen

hear me." He then asked if he might rely on the good faith of Prince

Schwartzenberg, for which the aid-de-camp pledged himself; nor was he

mistaken, though the event seemed to belie his confidence.

Every word which the emperor had uttered merely proved his

disappointment, and that a great hesitation had again taken possession

of his mind; for in him success was less communicative, and decision

less verbose. At length he entered Smolensk. In the passage through its

massive walls, Count Lobau exclaimed, "What a fine head for

cantonments!" This was the same thing as advising him to stop there; but

the emperor returned no other answer to this counsel than a stern look.

This look, however, soon changed its expression, when it had nothing to

rest upon but ruins, among which our wounded were crawling, and heaps of

smoking ashes, where lay human skeletons, dried and blackened by the

fire. This great destruction confounded him. What a harvest of victory!

That city where his troops were at length to find shelter, provisions, a

rich booty, the promised reward for so many hardships, was but a ruin on

which he should be obliged to bivouac! No doubt his influence over his

men was great, but could it extend beyond nature? What would they think?

Here, it is right to observe, that the sufferings of the army did not

want for an interpreter. He knew that his soldiers asked one another

"for what purpose they had been marched eight hundred leagues, to find

nothing but muddy water, famine, and bivouacs on heaps of ashes: for

such were all their conquests; they possessed nothing but what they had

brought with them. If it was necessary to drag every thing along with

them, to transport France into Russia, wherefore had they been required

to quit France?"

Several of the generals themselves began to tire: some stopped on

account of illness, others murmured: "What better were they for his

having enriched them, if they could not enjoy their wealth? for his

having given them wives, if he made them widowers by a continual

absence? for his having bestowed on them palaces, if he forced them to

lie abroad incessantly on the bare ground, amidst frost and snow?--for

every year the hardships of war increased; fresh conquests compelling

them to go farther in quest of fresh enemies. Europe would soon be

insufficient: he would want Asia too."

Several, especially of our allies, ventured to think, that we should

lose less by a defeat than by a victory: a reverse would perhaps disgust

the emperor with the war; at least it would place him more upon a level

with us.

The generals who were nearest to Napoleon were astonished at his

confidence. "Had he not already in some measure quitted Europe? and if

Europe were to rise against him, he would have no subjects but his

soldiers, no empire but his camp: even then, one-third of them, being

foreigners, would become his enemies." Such was the language of Murat

and Berthier. Napoleon, irritated at finding in his two chief

lieutenants, and at the very moment of action, the same uneasiness with

which he was himself struggling, vented his ill-humour against them: he

overwhelmed them with it, as frequently happens in the household of

princes, who are least sparing of those of whose attachment they are

most sure; an inconvenience attending favour, which counterbalances its

advantages.

After his spleen had vented itself in a torrent of words, he summoned

them back; but this time, dissatisfied with such treatment, they kept

aloof. The emperor then made amends for his hastiness by caresses,

calling Berthier "his wife," and his fits of passion, "domestic

bickerings."

Murat and Ney left him with minds full of sinister presentiments

relative to this war, which at the first sight of the Russians they were

themselves for carrying on with fury. For in them, whose character was

entirely made up of action, inspiration, and first movements, there was

no consistency: every thing was unexpected; the occasion hurried them

away; impetuous, they varied in language, plans, and dispositions, at

every step, just as the ground is incessantly varying in appearance.

CHAP. VI.

About the same time, Rapp and Lauriston presented themselves: the latter

came from Petersburgh. Napoleon did not ask a single question of this

officer on his arrival from the capital of his enemy. Aware, no doubt,

of the frankness of his former aid-de-camp, and of his opinion

respecting this war, he was apprehensive of receiving from him

unsatisfactory intelligence.

But Rapp, who had followed our track, could not keep silence. "The army

had advanced but a hundred leagues from the Niemen, and already it was

completely altered. The officers who travelled post from the interior of

France to join it, arrived dismayed. They could not conceive how it

happened that a victorious army, without fighting, should leave behind

it more wrecks than a defeated one.

"They had met with all who were marching to join the masses, and all who

had separated from them; lastly, all who were not excited either by the

presence of the chiefs, or by example, or by the war. The appearance of

each troop, according to its distance from home, excited hope, anxiety,

or pity.

"In Germany, as far as the Oder, where a thousand objects were

incessantly reminding them of France, these recruits imagined themselves

not wholly cut off from it; they were ardent and jovial; but beyond the

Oder, in Poland, where the soil, productions, inhabitants, costumes,

manners, in short every thing, to the very habitations, wore a foreign

aspect; where nothing, in short, resembled a country which they

regretted; they began to be dismayed at the distance they had traversed,

and their faces already bore the stamp of fatigue and lassitude.

"By what an extraordinary distance must they then be separated from

France, since they had already reached unknown regions, where every

thing presented to them an aspect of such gloomy novelty! how many steps

they had taken, and how many more they had yet to take! The very idea of

return was disheartening; and yet they were obliged to march on, to keep

constantly marching! and they complained that ever since they left

France, their fatigues had been gradually increasing, and the means of

supporting them continually diminishing."

The truth is, that wine first failed them, then beer, even spirits; and,

lastly, they were reduced to water, which in its turn was frequently

wanting. The same was the case with dry provisions, and also with every

necessary of life; and in this gradual destitution, depression of mind

kept pace with the successive debilitation of the body. Agitated by a

vague inquietude, they marched on amid the dull uniformity of the vast

and silent forests of dark pines. They crept along these large trees,

bare and stripped to their very tops, and were affrighted at their

weakness amid this immensity. They then conceived gloomy and absurd

notions respecting the geography of these unknown regions; and, overcome

by a secret horror, they hesitated to penetrate farther into such vast

deserts.

From these sufferings, physical and moral, from these privations, from

these continual bivouacs, as dangerous near the pole as under the

equator, and from the infection of the air by the putrified carcases of

men and horses that strewed the roads, sprang two dreadful

epidemics--the dysentery and the typhus fever. The Germans first felt

their ravages; they are less nervous and less sober than the French; and

they were less interested in a cause which they regarded as foreign to

them. Out of 22,000 Bavarians who had crossed the Oder, 11,000 only

reached the Düna; and yet they had never been in action. This military

march cost the French one-fourth, and the allies half of their army.

Every morning the regiments started in order from their bivouacs; but

scarcely had they proceeded a few steps, before their widening ranks

became lengthened out into small and broken files; the weakest, being

unable to follow, dropped behind: these unfortunate wretches beheld

their comrades and their eagles getting farther and farther from them:

they still strove to overtake, but at length lost sight of them, and

then sank disheartened. The roads and the margins of the woods were

studded with them: some were seen plucking the ears of rye to devour the

grain; and they would then attempt, frequently in vain, to reach the

hospital, or the nearest village. Great numbers thus perished.

But it was not the sick only that separated from the army: many

soldiers, disgusted and dispirited on the one hand, and impelled by a

love of independence and plunder on the other, voluntarily deserted

their colours; and these were not the least resolute: their numbers soon

increased, as evil begets evil by example. They formed bands, and fixed

their quarters in the mansions and villages adjacent to the military

road. There they lived in abundance. Among them there were fewer French

than Germans; but it was remarked, that the leader of each of these

little independent bodies, composed of men of several nations, was

invariably a Frenchman.

Rapp had witnessed all these disorders: on his arrival, his blunt

honesty kept back none of these details from his chief; but the emperor

merely replied, "I am going to strike a great blow, and all the

stragglers will then rally."

With Sebastiani he was more explicit. The latter reminded him of his own

words, when he had declared to him, at Wilna, that "he would not cross

the Düna, for to proceed farther this year, would be hurrying to

infallible destruction."

Sebastiani, like the others, laid great stress on the state of the army.

"It is dreadful, I know," replied the emperor: "from Wilna, half of it

consisted of stragglers; now they form two-thirds; there is, therefore,

no time to be lost: we must extort peace; it is at Moscow. Besides, this

army cannot now stop: with its composition, and in its disorganization,

motion alone keeps it together. One may advance at the head of it, but

not stop or go back. It is an army of attack, not of defence; an army of

operation, not of position."

It was thus that he spoke to those immediately about him; but to the

generals commanding his divisions, he held a different language. Before

the former, he manifested the motives which urged him forward, from the

latter he carefully concealed them, and seemed to agree with them as to

the necessity of stopping. This may serve to explain the contradictions

which were remarked in his own language.

Thus, the very same day, in the streets of Smolensk, surrounded by

Davoust and his generals, whose corps had suffered most in the assault

of the preceding day, he said, that in the capture of Smolensk he was

indebted to them for an important success, and that he considered that

city as an excellent head of cantonments.

"Now," continued he, "my line is well covered; we will stop here: behind

this rampart, I can rally my troops, let them rest, receive

reinforcements, and our supplies from Dantzic. Thus the whole of Poland

is conquered and defended; this is a sufficient result; it is gathering,

in two months, the fruit that might be expected only from two years of

war: it is therefore sufficient. Betwixt this and the spring, we must

organize Lithuania, and recompose an invincible army; then, if peace

should not come to seek us in our winter quarters, we will go and

conquer it at Moscow."

He then told the marshal in confidence, that his motive for ordering him

to proceed beyond Smolensk, was only to drive off the Russians to the

distance of a few marches; but he strictly forbade him to involve

himself in any serious affair. At the same time, it is true, he

committed the vanguard to Murat and to Ney, the two rashest of his

officers; and, unknown to Davoust, he placed that prudent and

methodical marshal under the command of the impetuous king of Naples.

Thus his mind seemed to be wavering between two great resolutions, and

the contradictions in his words were communicated to his actions. In

this internal conflict, however, it was remarked, what an ascendence his

enterprising genius had over his prudence, and how the former so

disposed matters as to give birth to circumstances which must

necessarily hurry him away.

CHAP. VII.

Meanwhile the Russians still defended the suburb on the right bank of

the Dnieper. On our side, the 18th, and the night of the 19th, were

employed in rebuilding the bridges. On the 19th of August, before day,

Ney crossed the river by the light of the suburb, which was on fire. At

first, he saw there no enemies but the flames, and he began to climb the

long and rugged declivity on which it stands. His troops proceeded

slowly and with caution, making a thousand circuits to avoid the fire.

The Russians had managed it with skill: it met our men at every point,

and obstructed the principal avenues.

Ney, and the foremost of his soldiers, advanced in silence into this

labyrinth of flames, with anxious eye and attentive ear, not knowing but

that the Russians might be waiting on the summit of the steep, to pour

suddenly upon them, to overthrow and drive them back into the flames and

the river. But they breathed more freely, relieved from the weight of a

great apprehension, when they perceived on the crest of the ravine, at

the branching-off of the roads to Petersburgh and Moscow, nothing but a

band of cossacks, who immediately fled by those two roads. Having

neither prisoners nor inhabitants, nor spies, the ground was, as at

Witepsk, the only thing they could interrogate. But the enemy had left

as many traces in one direction as in the other, so that the marshal

paused in uncertainty between the two until mid-day.

During this interval, a passage had been effected across the Boristhenes

at several points; the roads to the two hostile capitals were

reconnoitred to the distance of a league, and the Russian infantry was

discovered in that leading to Moscow. Ney would soon have overtaken it;

but as that road skirted the Dnieper, he had to cross the streams which

fall into it. Each of them having scooped out its own bed, marked the

bottom of a valley, the opposite side of which was a position where the

enemy posted himself, and which it was necessary to carry: the first,

that of the Stubna, did not detain him long; but the hill of Valoutina,

at the foot of which runs the Kolowdnia, became the scene of an

obstinate conflict.

The cause of this resistance has been attributed to an ancient tradition

of national glory, which represented this field of battle as ground

consecrated by victory. But this superstition, worthy even still of the

Russian soldier, is far from the more enlightened patriotism of their

generals. It was necessity that here compelled them to fight: we have

seen that the Moscow road, on leaving Smolensk, skirted the Dnieper, and

that the French artillery, on the other bank, traversed it with its

fire. Barclay durst not take this road at night, for fear of risking his

artillery, baggage, and the waggons with the wounded, the rolling of

which would have betrayed his retreat.

The Petersburgh road quitted the river more abruptly: two marshy

cross-roads branched off from it on the right, one at the distance of

two leagues from Smolensk, the other at four; they ran through woods,

and rejoined the high-road to Moscow, after a long circuit; the one at

Bredichino, two leagues beyond Valoutina, the other farther off at

Slobpnewa.

Into these defiles Barclay was bold enough to commit himself with so

many horses and vehicles; so that this long and heavy column had thus to

traverse two large arcs of a circle, of which the high-road from

Smolensk to Moscow, which Ney soon attacked, was the chord. Every

moment, as always happens in such cases, the overturning of a carriage,

the sticking fast of a wheel, or of a single horse, in the mud, or the

breaking of a trace, stopped the whole. The sound of the French cannon,

meanwhile, drew nearer, and seemed to have already got before the

Russian column, and to be on the point of reaching and closing the

outlet which it was striving to gain.

At length, after an arduous march, the head of the enemy's convoy came

in sight of the high-road at the moment when the French had only to

force the height of Valoutina and the passage of Kolowdnia, in order to

reach that outlet. Ney had furiously carried that of the Stubna; but

Korf, driven back upon Valoutina, had summoned to his aid the column

which preceded him. It is asserted that the latter, without order, and

badly officered, hesitated to comply; but that Woronzof, aware of the

importance of that position, prevailed upon its commander to turn back.

The Russians defended themselves to defend every thing, cannon, wounded,

baggage: the French attacked in order to take every thing. Napoleon had

halted a league and a half behind Ney. Conceiving that it was but an

affair between his advanced guard and the rear of the enemy, he sent

Gudin to the assistance of the marshal, rallied the other divisions, and

returned to Smolensk. But this fight became a serious battle; 30,000 men

were successively engaged in it on both sides: soldiers, officers,

generals, encountered each other; the action was long, the struggle

terrible; even night did not suspend it. At length, in possession of the

plateau, exhausted by the loss of strength and blood, Ney finding

himself surrounded only by dead, dying, and obscurity, became fatigued;

he ordered his troops to cease firing, to keep silence, and present

bayonets. The Russians hearing nothing more, were silent also, and

availed themselves of the darkness to effect their retreat.

There was almost as much glory in their defeat as in our victory: the

two chiefs carried their point, the one in conquering, the other in not

being conquered till he had saved the Russian artillery, baggage, and

wounded. One of the enemy's generals, the only one left unhurt on this

field of carnage, endeavoured to escape from among our soldiers, by

repeating the French word of command; he was recognized by the flashes

of their fire-arms, and secured. Other Russian generals had perished,

but the grand army sustained a still greater loss.

At the passage of the bridge over the Kolowdnia, which had been badly

repaired, General Gudin, whose well-regulated valour loved to confront

none but useful dangers, and who besides was not a bold rider, had

alighted from his horse to cross the stream, when, at that moment, a

cannon-ball skimming the surface of the ground, broke both his legs.

When the tidings of this misfortune reached the emperor, they put a stop

to every thing--to discussion and action. Every one was thunderstruck;

the victory of Valoutina seemed no longer to be a success.

Gudin was conveyed to Smolensk, and there received the unavailing

attentions of the emperor; but he soon expired. His remains were

interred in the citadel of the city, which they honour: a worthy tomb

for a soldier, who was a good citizen, a good husband, a good father, an

intrepid general, just and mild, a man both of principle and talent; a

rare assemblage of qualities in an age when virtuous men are too

frequently devoid of abilities, and men of abilities without virtue. It

was a fortunate chance that he was worthily replaced; Gérard, the oldest

general of brigade of the division, took the command of it, and the

enemy, who knew nothing of our loss, gained nothing by the dreadful blow

he had dealt us.

The Russians, astonished at having been attacked only in front,

conceived that all the military combinations of Murat were confined to

following them on the high-road. They therefore styled him in derision,

"_the general of the high roads_," characterizing him thus from the

event, which tends more commonly to deceive than to enlighten.

In fact, while Ney was attacking, Murat scoured his flanks with his

cavalry, without being able to bring it into action; woods on the left,

and morasses on the right, obstructed his movements. But while they were

fighting in front, both were anticipating the effect of a flanking march

of the Westphalians, commanded by Junot.

From the Stubna, the high-road, in order to avoid the marshes formed by

the various tributary streams of the Dnieper, turned off to the left,

ascended the heights, and went farther from the basin of the river, to

which it afterwards returned in a more favourable situation. It had been

remarked that a by-road, bolder and shorter, as they all are, ran

straight across these low marshy grounds, between the Dnieper and the

high-road, which it rejoined behind the plateau of Valoutina.

It was this cross-road which Junot pursued after crossing the river at

Prudiszy. It soon led him into the rear of the left of the Russians,

upon the flank of the columns which were returning to the assistance of

their rear-guard. His attack was all that was wanted to render the

victory decisive. Those who were engaged in front with Marshal Ney would

have been daunted at hearing an attack in their rear; while the

uncertainty and disorder into which, in the midst of an action, it would

have thrown the multitude of men, horses, and carriages, crowded

together in one road, would have been irreparable; but Junot, though

personally brave, was irresolute as a general. His responsibility

alarmed him.

Meanwhile Murat, judging that he must have come up, was astonished at

not hearing his attack. The firmness of the Russians opposed to Ney led

him to suspect the truth. He left his cavalry, and crossing the woods

and marshes almost alone, he hastened to Junot, and upbraided him with

his inaction. Junot alleged in excuse, that "He had no orders to attack;

his Wurtemberg cavalry was shy, its efforts feigned, and it would never

be brought to charge the enemy's battalions."

These words Murat answered by actions. He rushed on at the head of that

cavalry, which, with a different leader, were quite different troops; he

urged them on, launched them against the Russians, overthrew their

tirailleurs, returned to Junot and said to him, "Now finish the

business: your glory and your marshal's staff are still before you!" He

then left him to rejoin his own troops, and Junot, confounded, remained

motionless. Too long about Napoleon, whose active genius directed every

thing, both the plan and the details, he had learned only to obey: he

wanted experience in command; besides, fatigue and wounds had made him

an old man before his time.

That such a general should have been selected for so important a

movement, was not at all surprising; it was well known that the emperor

was attached to him both from habit, (for he was his oldest aid-de-camp)

and from a secret foible, for as the presence of that officer was mixed

up with all the recollections of his victories and his glory, he

disliked to part from him. It is also reasonable to suppose that it

flattered his vanity, to see men who were his pupils commanding his

armies; and it was moreover natural that he should have a firmer

alliance on their attachment, than on that of any others.

When, however, on the following day he inspected the places themselves,

and, at the sight of the bridge where Gudin fell, made the remark, that

it was not there he ought to have debouched; when afterwards gazing,

with an angry look, on the position which Junot had occupied, he

exclaimed: "It was there, no doubt, that the Westphalians should have

attacked! all the battle was there! what was Junot about?" his

irritation became so violent, that nothing could at first allay it. He

called Rapp, and told him to take the command from the Duke of

Abrantes:--he would dismiss him from the army! he had lost his

marshal's staff without retrieve! this blunder would probably block the

road to Moscow against them; that to him, Rapp, he should intrust the

Westphalians; that he would speak to them in their own language, and he

would know how to make them fight. But Rapp refused the place of his

old companion in arms; he appeased the emperor, whose anger always

subsided quickly, as soon as it had vented itself in words.

But it was not merely on his left that the enemy had a narrow escape

from being conquered; on his right he had run a still greater risk.

Morand, one of Davoust's generals, had been despatched from that side

through the forests; he marched along woody heights, and was, from the

commencement of the action, on the flank of the Russians. A few paces

more, and he would have debouched in the rear of their right. His sudden

appearance would have infallibly decided the victory, and rendered it

complete; but Napoleon, unacquainted with the localities, ordered him to

be recalled to the spot where Davoust and himself had stopped.

In the army, we could not help asking ourselves, why the emperor, in

making three officers, independent of one another, combine for the same

object, had not made a point of being on the spot, to give their

movements the unity indispensable, and without him impossible. He, on

the contrary, had returned to Smolensk, either from fatigue, or chiefly

from not expecting so serious an affair; or finally, because, from the

necessity of attending to every thing at once, he could not be in time,

or completely any where. In fact, the business of his empire and of

Europe, having been suspended by the preceding days of activity, had

accumulated. It was necessary to clear out his portfolios, and to give

circulation to both civil and political affairs, which began to clog; it

was, besides, urgent and glorious to date from Smolensk.

When, therefore, Borelli, second in command of Murat's staff, came to

inform him of the battle of Valoutina, he hesitated about receiving him;

and so deeply was he engaged in the business before him, that a minister

had to interfere to procure that officer admittance. The report of this

officer agitated Napoleon. "What say you?" he exclaimed: "what! you are

not enough! the enemy shows 60,000 men! Then it is a battle!" and he

began storming at the disobedience and inactivity of Junot. When Borelli

informed him of Gudin's mortal wound, Napoleon's grief was violent; he

gave vent to it in repeated questions and expressions of regret; then

with that strength of mind which was peculiar to him, he subdued his

uneasiness, postponed his anger, suspended his chagrin, and giving

himself up wholly to his occupation, he deferred until the morrow the

charge of battles, for night had come on; but afterwards the hopes of a

battle roused him, and he appeared next morning with the day on the

fields of Valoutina.

CHAP. VIII.

Ney's troops, and those of Gudin's division, deprived of their general,

had drawn up there on the corses of their companions and of the

Russians, amidst the stumps of broken trees, on ground trampled by the

feet of the combatants, furrowed with balls, strewed with the fragments

of weapons, tattered garments, military utensils, carriages overthrown,

and scattered limbs; for such are the trophies of war, such the beauties

of a field of victory!

Gudin's battalions appeared to be melted down to platoons; the more they

were reduced, the prouder they seemed to be: close to them, one still

breathed the smell of burnt cartridges and gunpowder, with which the

ground and their apparel were impregnated, and their faces yet quite

begrimed. The emperor could not pass along their front without having to

avoid, to step over, or to tread upon carcases, and bayonets twisted by

the violence of the shock. But over all these horrors he threw a veil of

glory. His gratitude transformed this field of death into a field of

triumph, where, for some hours, satisfied honour and ambition held

exclusive sway.

He was sensible that it was high time to encourage his soldiers by

commendations and rewards. Never, therefore, were his looks more kind;

and as to his language, "this battle was the most glorious achievement

in our military history; the soldiers who heard him were men with whom

one might conquer the world; the slain, warriors who had died an

immortal death." He spoke thus, well aware that it is more especially

amid such destruction that men think of immortality.

He was profuse in his rewards; on the 12th, 21st, 127th of the line, and

the 17th light, he conferred eighty-seven decorations and promotions;

these were Gudin's regiments. The 127th had, before this, marched

without an eagle; for at that time it was necessary for a regiment to

earn its colours in a field of battle, to prove, that in the sequel it

would know how to preserve them there.

The emperor delivered the eagle to it with his own hands; he also

satisfied Ney's corps. His favours were as great in themselves as they

were in their form. The value of the gift was enhanced by the manner in

which he bestowed it. He was successively surrounded by each regiment as

by a family. There he appealed in a loud voice to the officers,

subalterns, and privates, inquiring who were the bravest of all those

brave men, or the most successful, and recompensing them on the spot.

The officers named, the soldiers confirmed, the emperor approved: thus,

as he himself observed, the elections were made instantaneously, in a

circle, in his presence, and confirmed with acclamations by the troops.

These paternal manners, which made the private soldier the military

comrade of the ruler of Europe; these forms, which revived the

still-regretted usages of the republic, delighted the troops. He was a

monarch, but the monarch of the Revolution; and they could not but love

a fortunate sovereign who led them on to fortune; in him there was every

thing to excite, and nothing to reproach them.

Never did field of victory exhibit a spectacle more capable of exalting;

the presentation of that eagle so richly merited, the pomp of these

promotions, the shouts of joy, the glory of those warriors, recompensed

on the very spot where it had just been acquired; their valour

proclaimed by a voice, every accent of which rung throughout attentive

Europe; by that great captain whose bulletins would carry their names

over the whole world, and more especially among their countrymen, and

into the bosoms of their families, which they would at once cheer and

make proud: how many favours at once! they were absolutely intoxicated

with them: he himself seemed at first to allow himself to share their

transports.

But when he was out of sight of his troops, the attitude of Ney and

Murat, and the words of Poniatowski, who was as frank and judicious in

council as he was intrepid in the field, tranquillized him; and when the

close heat of the day began to overpower him, and he learned from the

reports that his men had proceeded eight leagues without overtaking the

enemy, the spell was entirely dissolved. On his return to Smolensk, the

jolting of his carriage over the relics of the fight, the stoppages

caused on the road by the long file of the wounded who were crawling or

being carried back, and in Smolensk itself by the tumbrels of amputated

limbs about to be thrown away at a distance; in a word, all that is

horrible and odious out of fields of battle, completely disarmed him.

Smolensk was but one vast hospital, and the loud groans which issued

from it drowned the shout of glory which had just been raised on the

fields of Valoutina.

The reports of the surgeons were frightful: in that country a spirit

distilled from grain is used instead of wine and brandy made from

grapes. Narcotic plants are mixed with it. Our young soldiers, exhausted

with hunger and fatigue, conceived that this liquor would cheer them;

but its perfidious heat caused them to throw out at once all the fire

that was yet left in them, after which they sank exhausted, and became

the victims of disease.

Others, less sober, or more debilitated, were seized with dizziness,

stupefaction, and torpor; they squatted into the ditches and on the

roads. Their half-open, watery, and lack-lustre eyes seemed to watch,

with insensibility, death gradually seizing their whole frame; they

expired sullenly and without a groan.

At Wilna, it had not been possible to establish hospitals for more than

six thousand sick: convents, churches, synagogues, and barns, served to

receive the suffering multitude. In these dismal places, which were

sometimes unhealthy, but still too few, and too crowded, the sick were

frequently without food, without beds, without covering, and without

even straw and medicines. The surgeons were inadequate to the duty, so

that every thing, even to the very hospitals, contributed to create

disease, and nothing to cure.

At Witepsk, 400 wounded Russians were left on the field of battle: 300

more were abandoned in the town by their army; and as the inhabitants

had been taken away, these unfortunate wretches remained three days

before they were discovered, without assistance, huddled together

pell-mell, dead and dying, amidst the most horrible filth and infection:

they were at length collected together and mixed with our own wounded,

who, like those of the Russians, amounted to 700. Our surgeons tore up

their very shirts, and those of these poor creatures, to dress them; for

there already began to be a scarcity of linen.

When at length the wounds of these unfortunate men were healed, and they

required nothing but wholesome food to complete their cure, they

perished for want of sustenance: few either of the French or Russians

escaped. Those who were prevented from going in quest of food by the

loss of a limb, or by debility, were the first to sink. These disasters

occurred wherever the emperor was not in person; his presence bringing,

and his departure carrying, every thing along with it; and his orders,

in fact, not being scrupulously obeyed but within the circle of his own

observation.

At Smolensk, there was no want of hospitals; fifteen spacious brick

buildings were rescued from the flames: there were even found some wine,

brandy, and a few medical stores; and our reserve waggons for the

wounded at length rejoined us: but every thing ran short. The surgeons

were at work night and day, but the very second night, all the materials

for dressing the wounded were exhausted: there was no more linen, and

they were forced to use paper, found in the archives, in its stead.

Parchment served for splinters, and coarse cloth for compresses; and

they had no other substitute for lint than tow and birch down (_coton du

bouleau_).

Our surgeons were overwhelmed with dismay: for three days an hospital of

a hundred wounded had been forgotten; an accident led to its discovery:

Rapp penetrated into that abode of despair. I will spare my reader the

horror of a description. Wherefore communicate those terrible

impressions which harrow up the soul? Rapp did not spare them to

Napoleon, who instantly caused his own wine, and a sum of money, to be

distributed among such of those unfortunate men as a tenacious life

still animated, or whom a disgusting food had supported.

But to the vehement emotion which these reports excited in the bosom of

the emperor, was superadded an alarming consideration. The conflagration

of Smolensk was no longer, he saw, the effect of a fatal and unforeseen

accident of war, nor even the result of an act of despair: it was the

result of cool determination. The Russians had studied the time and

means, and taken as great pains to destroy, as are usually taken to

preserve.

The same day the courageous answers of one of their popes (the only one

found in Smolensk,) enlightened him still more in regard to the blind

fury which had been excited in the whole Russian nation. His

interpreter, alarmed by this animosity, conducted the pope to the

emperor. The venerable priest first reproached him, with firmness, for

his alleged sacrilegious acts: he knew not that it was the Russian

general himself who had caused the storehouses and churches to be set on

fire, and who had accused us of these outrages, in order that the

mercantile class and the peasantry might not separate their cause from

that of the nobility.

The emperor listened attentively. "But," said he to him at last, "has

your church been burned?"--"No, sire," replied the pope; "God will be

more powerful than you; he will protect it, for I have opened it to all

the unfortunate people whom the destruction of the city has deprived of

a home!"--"You are right," rejoined Napoleon, with emotion, "yes, God

will watch over the innocent victims of war; he will reward you for your

courage. Go, worthy priest, return to your post. Had all your popes

followed your example, they had not basely betrayed the mission of peace

which they received from heaven; if they had not abandoned the temples

which their presence alone renders sacred, my soldiers would have spared

your holy edifices; for we are all Christians, and your God is our God."

With these words, Napoleon sent back the priest to his temple with an

escort and some succours. A heart-rending shriek arose at the sight of

the soldiers penetrating into this asylum. A crowd of terrified women

and children thronged about the altar; but the pope, raising his voice,

cried; "be of good cheer: I have seen Napoleon; I have spoken to him.

Oh! how have we been deceived, my children! the emperor of France is not

the man that he has been represented to you. Learn that he and his

soldiers worship the same God as we do. The war which he wages is not

religious, it is a political quarrel with our emperor. His soldiers

fight only our soldiers. They do not slaughter, as we have been assured,

old men, women, and children. Cheer up, then, and let us thank God for

being relieved from the painful duty of hating them as heathen, impious

wretches, and incendiaries!" The pope then commenced a hymn of thanks,

in which they all joined with tearful eyes.

But these very words demonstrated how much the nation had been deceived.

The rest of the inhabitants had fled. Henceforward, then, it was not

their army alone, it was the population, it was all Russia, that fled

before us. The emperor felt that, with this population, one of his most

powerful engines of conquest was escaping from his hands.

CHAP. IX.

Ever since our arrival at Witepsk, Napoleon had in fact employed two of

his officers to sound the sentiments of these people. The object was,

to instil into them notions of liberty, and to compromise them in our

cause by an insurrection more or less general. But there had been

nothing to work upon excepting a few straggling savage boors, whom the

Russians had perhaps left as spies amongst us. This attempt had only

served to betray his plan, and to put the Russians on their guard

against it.

This expedient, moreover, was repugnant to Napoleon, whose nature

inclined him much more to the cause of kings than to that of nations. He

employed it but carelessly. Subsequently, at Moscow, he received several

addresses from different heads of families. They complained that they

were treated by the nobility like herds of cattle, which they might sell

or barter away at pleasure. They solicited Napoleon to proclaim the

abolition of slavery, and in the event of his doing so, they offered to

head partial insurrections, which they promised speedily to render

general.

These offers were rejected. We should have seen, among a barbarous

people, a barbarous liberty, an ungovernable, a horrible licentiousness:

a few partial revolts had formerly furnished the standard of them. The

Russian nobles, like the planters of St. Domingo, would have been

ruined. The fear of this prevailed in the mind of Napoleon, and was

confessed by him; it induced him to give up, for a time, all attempts to

excite a movement which he could not have regulated.

Besides, these masters had conceived a distrust of their slaves. Amidst

so many dangers, they distinguished this as the most urgent. They first

wrought upon the minds of their unfortunate serfs, debased by all sorts

of servitude. Their priests, whom they are accustomed to believe,

imposed upon them by delusive language; they persuaded these peasants

that we were legions of devils, commanded by Antichrist, infernal

spirits, whose very look would excite horror, and whose touch would

contaminate. Such of our prisoners as fell into their hands, remarked

that these poor creatures would not again make use of the vessels which

they had used, and that they reserved them for the most filthy animals.

As we advanced, however, our presence would have refuted all these

clumsy fables. But behold! these nobles fell back with their serfs into

the interior of the country, as at the approach of a dire contagion.

Property, habitations, all that could detain them, and be serviceable to

us, were sacrificed. They interposed famine, fire, and the desert,

between them and us; for it was as much against their serfs as against

Napoleon that this mighty resolution was executed. It was no longer,

therefore, a war of kings that was to be prosecuted, but a war of class,

a war of party, a war of religion, a national war, a combination of all

sorts of war.

The emperor then first perceived the enormous magnitude of his

enterprise; the farther he advanced, the more it became magnified. So

long as he only encountered kings, to him, who was greater than all of

them, their defeats were but sport; but the kings being conquered, he

had now to do with people; and it was another Spain, but remote, barren,

infinite, that he had found at the opposite extremity of Europe. He was

daunted, hesitated, and paused.

At Witepsk, whatever resolution he might have taken, he wanted Smolensk,

and till he should be at Smolensk, he seemed to have deferred coming to

any determination. For this reason he was again seized with the same

perplexity: it was now more embarrassing, as the flames, the prevalent

epidemic, and the victims which surrounded him, had aggravated every

thing; a fever of hesitation attacked him; his eyes turned towards Kief,

Petersburgh, and Moscow.

At Kief he should envelop Tchitchakof and his army; he should rid the

right flank and the rear of the grand army, of annoyance; he should

cover the Polish provinces most productive of men, provisions, and

horses; while fortified cantonments at Mohilef, Smolensk, Witepsk,

Polotsk, Dünabourg, and Riga, would defend the rest. Behind this line,

and during the winter, he might raise and organize all ancient Poland,

and hurl it in the spring upon Russia, oppose nation to nation, and

render the war equal.

At Smolensk, however, he was at the point where the Petersburgh and

Moscow roads meet, 29 marches from the first of these capitals, and 15

from the other. In Petersburgh, the centre of the government, the knot

to which all the threads of the administration were united, the brain of

Russia, were her military and naval arsenals; in short, it was the only

point of communication between Russia and England, of which he should

possess himself. The victory of Polotsk, of which he had just received

intelligence, seemed to urge him in that direction. By marching in

concert with Saint-Cyr upon Petersburgh, he should envelop Wittgenstein,

and cause Riga to fall before Macdonald.

On the other hand, in Moscow, it was the nobility, as well as the

nation, that he should attack in its property, in its ancient honour;

the road to that capital was shorter; it presented fewer obstacles and

more resources; the Russian main army, which he could not neglect, and

which he must destroy, was there, together with the chances of a battle,

and the hope of giving a shock to the nation, by striking at its heart

in this national war.

Of these three plans the latter appeared to him the only one

practicable, in spite of the advancing season. The history of Charles

XII. was, nevertheless, before his eyes; not that of Voltaire, which he

had just thrown aside with impatience, judging it to be romantic and

inaccurate, but the journal of Adlerfield, which he read, but which did

not stop him. On comparing that expedition with his own, he found a

thousand differences between them, on which he laid great stress; for

who can be a judge in his own cause? and of what use is the example of

the past, in a world where there never were two men, two things, or two

situations exactly alike?

At any rate, about this period the name of Charles XII. was frequently

heard to drop from his lips.

CHAP. X.

But the news which arrived from all quarters excited his ardour quite as

much as it had been at Witepsk. His lieutenants seemed to have done more

than himself: the actions of Mohilef, Molodeczna, and Valoutina, were

regular battles, in which Davoust, Schwartzenberg, and Ney, were

conquerors; on his right, his line of operation seemed to be covered;

the enemy's army was flying before him; on his left, the Duke of Reggio,

after drawing Wittgenstein upon Polotsk, was attacked at Slowna, on the

17th of August. The attack of Wittgenstein was furious and obstinate; it

failed; but he retained his offensive position, and Marshal Oudinot had

been wounded. Saint-Cyr succeeded him in the command of that army,

composed of about 30,000 French, Swiss, and Bavarians. The very next day

this general, who disliked any command unless when he exercised it alone

and in chief, availed himself of it, to give his measure to his own

troops and to the enemy; but coolly, according to his character, and

combining every thing.

From daybreak till five in the evening, he contrived to amuse the enemy

by the proposal of an agreement to withdraw the wounded, and more

especially by demonstrations of retreat. At the same time he silently

rallied all his combatants, drew them up into three columns of attack,

and concealed them behind the village of Spas and rising grounds.

At five o'clock, all being ready, and Wittgenstein's vigilance asleep,

Saint-Cyr gave the signal: his artillery immediately began firing, and

his columns rushed forward. The Russians, being taken by surprise,

resisted in vain; their right was first broken, and their centre soon

fled in disorder: they abandoned 1000 prisoners, 20 pieces of cannon, a

field of battle covered with slain, and the offensive, which Saint-Cyr,

being too weak, could only affect to resume, for the purpose of better

defending himself.

In this short but severe and sanguinary conflict, the right wing of the

Russians, which was supported by the Düna, made an obstinate resistance.

It was necessary to charge it with the bayonet, amidst a thick fire of

grape-shot; every thing succeeded, but when it was supposed that there

was no more to do but to pursue, all was nearly lost; some Russian

dragoons, according to some, and horse-guards, according to others,

risked a charge on a battery of Saint-Cyr's; a French brigade placed to

support it advanced, then suddenly turned its back and fled through the

midst of our cannon, which it prevented from being fired. The Russians

reached them pell-mell with our men; they sabred the gunners, upset the

pieces, and pursued our horse so closely, that the latter, more and more

terrified, ran in disorder upon their commander-in-chief and his staff,

whom they overthrew. General Saint-Cyr was obliged to fly on foot. He

threw himself into the bottom of a ravine, which sheltered him from the

squall. The Russian dragoons were already close to Polotsk, when a

prompt and skilful manoeuvre of Berkheim and the 4th French

cuirassiers put an end to this warm affair. The Russians betook

themselves to the woods.

The following day Saint-Cyr sent a body of men in pursuit of them, but

merely to observe their retreat, to mark the victory, and to reap some

more of its fruits. During the two succeeding months, up to the 18th of

October, Wittgenstein kept at a respectful distance. The French general,

on his part, confined his attention to observing the enemy, keeping up

his communications with Macdonald, with Witepsk, and Smolensk,

fortifying himself in his position of Polotsk, and, above all, finding

there means of subsistence.

In this action of the 18th, four generals, four colonels, and many

officers, were wounded. Among them the army remarked the Bavarian

Generals Deroy and Liben. They expired on the 22d of August. These

generals were of the same age; they had belonged to the same regiment,

had made the same campaigns, proceeded at nearly an equal pace in their

perilous career, which was gloriously terminated by the same death, and

in the same battle. It was thought right not to separate in the tomb

these warriors, whom neither life nor death had been able to part; one

grave received the remains of both.

On the news of this victory, the emperor sent to General Saint-Cyr the

staff of Marshal of the empire. He placed a great number of crosses at

his disposal, and subsequently approved most of the promotions which

were applied for.

Notwithstanding this success, the determination to proceed beyond

Smolensk was too perilous for Napoleon to decide on it alone: it was

requisite that he should contrive to be drawn into it. Beyond Valoutina,

Ney's corps, which was fatigued, had been replaced by that of Davoust.

Murat as king, as brother-in-law to the emperor, and agreeably to his

order, was to command it. Ney had submitted to this, less from

condescension than from conformity of disposition. They agreed in their

ardour.

But Davoust, whose methodical and tenacious genius was a complete

contrast to the fiery impetuosity of Murat, and who was rendered proud

by the remembrance of, and the titles derived from two great victories,

was piqued at being placed in this dependence. These haughty chiefs, who

were about the same age, had been companions in war, and had mutually

witnessed each other's elevation; they were both spoiled by the habit of

having obeyed only a great man, and were by no means fit to command one

another; Murat, in particular, who was too often unable to command

himself.

Davoust nevertheless obeyed, but with an ill grace, and imperfectly, as

wounded pride generally does. He affected immediately to break off all

direct correspondence with the emperor. The latter, surprised at this,

ordered him to renew it, alleging his distrust of the reports of Murat.

Davoust made a handle of this avowal, and again asserted his

independence. Henceforward the vanguard had two leaders. Thus the

emperor, fatigued, distressed, overloaded with business of every kind,

and forced to show indulgence to his lieutenants, divided his power as

well as his armies, in spite of his precepts and his former examples.

Circumstances, which he had so often controlled, became stronger than

him, and controlled him in their turn.

Meanwhile Barclay, having fallen back without resistance nearly as far

as Dorogobouje, Murat had no need of Davoust, and no occasion presented

itself for misunderstanding; but about eleven in the forenoon of the 23d

of August, a thick wood, a few wersts from that town, which the king

wished to reconnoitre, was warmly disputed with him: he was obliged to

carry it twice.

Murat, surprised at such a resistance at that early hour, pushed on, and

piercing through this curtain, beheld the whole Russian army drawn up in

order of battle. The narrow ravine of the Luja separated him from it: it

was noon; the extent of the Russian lines, especially towards our right,

the preparations, the hour, the place, which was that where Barclay had

just rejoined Bagration; the choice of the ground, well suited for a

general engagement; all gave him reason to anticipate a battle; and he

sent a dispatch to the emperor to apprise him of it.

At the same time he ordered Montbrun to pass the ravine on his right

with his cavalry, in order to reconnoitre and get upon the left of the

enemy. Davoust, and his five divisions of infantry, extended themselves

on that side; he protected Montbrun: the king recalled them to his left,

on the high-road, designing, it is said, to support Montbrun's flank

movement by some demonstrations in front.

Davoust replied, that "This would be sacrificing our right wing, through

which the enemy would get behind us on the high-road, our only means of

retreat; that thus he would force us to a battle, which he, Davoust, had

orders to avoid, and which he would avoid, his force being insufficient,

the position bad, and he being moreover under the command of a leader in

whom he had but little confidence." He then wrote immediately to

Napoleon, urging him to come up without loss of time, if he would not

have Murat engage without him.

On this intelligence, which he received in the night of the 24th of

August, Napoleon joyfully threw aside his indecision, which to this

enterprising and decisive genius was absolute torture: he hurried

forward with his guard, and proceeded twelve leagues without halting;

but on the evening of the preceding day, the enemy's army had again

disappeared.

On our side, his retreat was attributed to the movement of Montbrun; on

the part of the Russians to Barclay, and to a bad position chosen by the

chief of his staff, who had taken up ground in his own disfavour,

instead of making it serve to his advantage. Bagration was the first who

perceived it; his rage knew no bounds, and he proclaimed it treason.

Discord reigned in the Russian camp as well as in our advanced guard.

Confidence in their commander, that strength of armies, was wanting; his

every step seemed a blunder; each resolution that was taken the very

worst. The loss of Smolensk had soured all; the junction of the two

_corps d'armée_ increased the evil; the stronger the Russian force felt

itself, the weaker did its general seem to it. The outcry became

general; another leader was loudly called for. A few prudent men,

however, interposed: Kutusof was announced, and the humbled pride of the

Russians awaited him in order to fight.

The emperor, on his part, already at Dorogobouje, no longer hesitated;

he knew that he carried every where with him the fate of Europe; that

wherever he might be, that would always be the place where the destiny

of nations would be decided; that he might therefore advance, fearless

of the threatening consequences of the defection of the Swedes and

Turks. Thus he neglected the hostile armies of Essen at Riga, of

Wittgenstein before Polotsk, of Ertell before Bobruisk, and of

Tchitchakof in Volhynia. They consisted of 120,000 men, whose number

could not but keep gradually augmenting; he passed them, and suffered

himself to be surrounded by them with indifference, assured that all

these vain obstacles of war and policy would be swept away by the very

first thunderbolt which he should launch.

And yet, his column of attack, which was 185,000 strong at his departure

from Witepsk, was already reduced to 157,000; it was diminished by

28,000 men, half of whom occupied Witepsk, Orcha, Mohilef, and Smolensk.

The rest had been killed or wounded, or were straggling, and plundering

in his rear our allies and the French themselves.

But 157,000 men were sufficient to destroy the Russian army by a

complete victory, and to take Moscow. As to his base of operation,

notwithstanding the 120,000 Russians by whom it was threatened, it

appeared to be secure. Lithuania, the Düna, the Dnieper, and lastly

Smolensk, were or would soon be covered towards Riga and Dünabourg by

Macdonald and 32,000 men; towards Polotsk, by Saint-Cyr, with 30,000; at

Witepsk, Smolensk, and Mohilef, by Victor and 40,000; before Bobruisk,

by Dombrowski and 12,000; and on the Bug by Schwartzenberg and Regnier,

at the head of 45,000 men. Napoleon reckoned besides on the divisions of

Loison and Durutte, 22,000 strong, which were already approaching

Königsberg and Warsaw; and on reinforcements to the amount of 80,000,

all of which would enter Russia before the middle of November.

He should thus have 280,000 men, including the Lithuanian and Polish

levies, to support him, while, with 155,000 more, he made an incursion

of 93 leagues; for such was the distance between Smolensk and Moscow.

But these 280,000 men were commanded by six different leaders, all

independent of each other, and the most elevated of them, he who

occupied the centre, and who seemed to be appointed to act as an

intermediate link, to give some unity to the operations of the other

five, was a minister of peace, and not of war.

Besides, the same causes which had already diminished, by one-third, the

French forces which first entered Russia, could not fail to disperse or

to destroy a still greater proportion of all these reinforcements. Most

of them were coming by detachments, formed provisionally into marching

battalions under officers new to them, whom they were to leave the first

day, without the incentive of discipline, _esprit de corps_, or glory,

and traversing an exhausted country, which the season and the climate

would be rendering daily more bare and more rude.

Meanwhile Napoleon beheld Dorogobouje in ashes, like Smolensk,

especially the quarter of the merchants, those who had most to lose,

whom their riches might have detained or brought back amongst us, and

who, from their situation, formed a kind of intermediate class, a

commencement of the third estate, which liberty was likely to seduce.

He was perfectly aware that he was quitting Smolensk, as he had come

thither, with the hope of a battle, which the indecision and discord of

the Russian generals had as yet deferred; but his resolution was taken;

he would hear of nothing but what was calculated to support him in it.

He persisted in pursuing the track of the enemy; his hardihood increased

with their prudence; their circumspection he called pusillanimity, their

retreat flight; he despised, that he might hope.

BOOK VII.

CHAP. I.

The emperor had proceeded with such expedition to Dorogobouje, that he

was obliged to halt there, in order to wait for his army, and to leave

Murat to pursue the enemy. He set out again on the 26th of August; the

army marched in three columns abreast; the Emperor, Murat, Davoust, and

Ney in the centre, on the high-road to Moscow; Poniatowski on the right;

and the army of Italy on the left.

The principal column, that of the centre, found nothing on a road where

its advanced guard itself had to subsist entirely on the leavings of the

Russians; it could not digress from its direction, for want of time, in

so rapid a march. Besides, the columns on the right and left consumed

every thing on either side of it. In order to live better, it ought to

have set out later every day, halted earlier, and then extended itself

more on its flanks during the night; which could be done without

imprudence when the enemy was so near at hand.

At Smolensk orders had been issued, as at Witepsk, to take, at starting,

provisions for several days. The emperor was aware of the difficulty of

collecting them, but he reckoned upon the diligence of the officers and

the troops; they had warning,--that was sufficient; they would contrive

to provide themselves with necessaries. They had acquired the habit of

doing so; and it was really a curious sight to observe the voluntary and

continual efforts of so many men to follow a single individual to such

great distances. The existence of the army was a prodigy that was daily

renewed, by the active, industrious, and intelligent spirit of the

French and Polish troops, by their habit of surmounting all

difficulties, and by their fondness for the hazards and irregularities

of this dreadful game of an adventurous life.

In the train of each regiment there were a multitude of those diminutive

horses with which Poland swarms, a great number of carts of the country,

which required to be incessantly replaced with fresh ones, and a drove

of cattle. The baggage-waggons were driven by soldiers, for they turned

their hands to every trade. They were missed in the ranks, it is true;

but here the want of provisions, the necessity for transporting every

thing with them, excused this prodigious train: it required a second

army, as it were, to carry or draw what was indispensable for the first.

In this prompt organization, adopted while marching, the army had

accommodated itself to all the local customs and difficulties; the

genius of the soldiers had admirably made the most of the scanty

resources of the country. As to the officers, as the general orders

always took for granted regular distributions which were never made,

each of them, according to the degree of his zeal, intelligence, and

firmness, appropriated to himself more or less of this spoil, and had

converted individual pillage into regular contributions.

For it was only by excursions on the flanks and into an unknown country

that any provisions could be procured. Every evening, when the army

halted, and the bivouacs were established, detachments, rarely commanded

by divisions, sometimes by brigades, and most commonly by regiments,

went in quest of necessaries, and penetrated into the country; a few

wersts from the road they found all the villages inhabited, and were not

very hostilely received; but as they could not make themselves

understood, and besides wanted every thing, and that instantaneously,

the peasants were soon seized with a panic and fled into the woods,

whence they issued again as no very formidable partizans.

The detachments meanwhile plentifully regaled themselves, and rejoined

their corps next day or some days afterwards, laden with all that they

had collected; and it frequently happened that they were plundered in

their turn by their comrades belonging to the other corps whom they

chanced to fall in with. Hence animosities, which would have infallibly

led to most sanguinary intestine conflicts, had not all been

subsequently overtaken by the same misfortune, and involved in the

horrors of a common disaster.

Till the return of their detachments, the soldiers who remained with

their eagles lived on what they could find on the military route; in

general it consisted of new rye, which they bruised and boiled. Owing to

the cattle which followed, there was less want of meat than of bread;

but the length, and especially the rapidity of the marches, occasioned

the loss of many of these animals: they were suffocated by the heat and

dust; when, therefore, they came to water, they ran into it with such

fury, that many of them were drowned, while others drank so

immoderately, as to swell themselves out till they were unable to walk.

It was remarked, as before we reached Smolensk, that the divisions of

the first corps continued to be the most numerous; their detachments,

better disciplined, brought back more, and did less injury to the

inhabitants. Those who remained with their colours lived on the contents

of their knapsacks, the regular appearance of which relieved the eye,

fatigued with a disorder that was nearly universal.

Each of these knapsacks, reduced to what was strictly necessary in point

of apparel, contained two shirts, two pair of shoes with nails, and a

pair of extra soles, a pair of pantaloons and half-gaiters of cloth; a

few articles requisite to cleanliness, a bandage, and a quantity of

lint, and sixty cartridges.

In the two sides were placed four biscuits of sixteen ounces each; under

these, and at the bottom, was a long, narrow, linen bag, filled with ten

pounds of flour. The whole knapsack and its contents, together with the

straps and the hood, rolled up and fastened at top, weighed

thirty-three pounds twelve ounces.

Each soldier carried also a linen bag, slung in form of a shoulder-belt,

containing two loaves of three pounds each. Thus with his sabre, his

loaded knapsack, three flints, his turn-screw, his belt and musket, he

had to carry fifty-eight pounds weight, and was provided with bread for

four days, biscuit for four, flour for seven, and sixty rounds of

ammunition.

Behind it were carriages laden with provisions for six more days; but it

was impossible to reckon with confidence on these vehicles, picked up on

the spot, which would have been so convenient in any other country with

a smaller army, and in a more regular war.

When the flour-bag was emptied, it was filled with any corn that could

be found, and which was ground at the first mill, if any chanced to be

met with; if not, by the hand-mills which followed the regiments, or

which were found in the villages, for the Russians are scarcely

acquainted with any others. It took sixteen men twelve hours to grind in

one of them the corn necessary for one hundred and thirty men for one

day.

As every house in this country has an oven, little want was felt on that

score; bakers abounded; for the regiments of the first corps contained

men of all trades, so that articles of food and clothing were all made

or repaired by them during the march. They were colonies uniting the

character of civilized and nomadic. The emperor had first conceived the

idea, which the genius of the prince of Eckmühl had appropriated; he had

every thing he wanted, time, place, and men to carry it into execution;

but these three elements of success were less at the disposal of the

other chiefs. Besides, their characters being more impetuous and less

methodical, would scarcely have derived the same advantages from it;

with a less organizing genius, they would therefore have had more

obstacles to surmount; the emperor had not paid sufficient attention to

these differences, which were productive of baneful effects.

CHAP. II.

It was from Slawkowo, a few leagues beyond Dorogobouje, that Napoleon

sent orders, on the 27th of August, to marshal Victor, who was then on

the Niemen, to advance to Smolensk. This marshal's left was to occupy

Witepsk, his right Mohilef, and his centre Smolensk. There he would

succour Saint-Cyr, in case of need, serve for a point of support to the

army of Moscow, and keep up his communications with Lithuania.

It was also from the same imperial head-quarters that he published the

details of his review at Valoutina, with the intention of proclaiming to

the present and future ages the names even of the private soldiers who

had there distinguished themselves. But he added, that at Smolensk "the

conduct of the Poles had astonished the Russians, who had been

accustomed to despise them." These words drew from the Poles an outcry

of indignation, and the emperor smiled at an anger which he had

foreseen, and the effects of which were designed to fall exclusively on

the Russians.

On this march he took delight in dating from the heart of Old Russia a

number of decrees, which would be circulated in the meanest hamlets of

France; from the desire of appearing to be present every where at once,

and filling the earth more and more with his power: the offspring of

that inconceiveable and expanding greatness of soul, whose ambition was

at first a mere plaything, but finally coveted the empire of the world.

It is true that at the same time there was so little order about him at

Slawkowo, that his guard burned, during the night, to warm themselves,

the bridge which they were ordered to guard, and the only one by which

he could, the next day, leave his imperial quarters. This disorder,

however, like many others, proceeded not from insubordination, but from

thoughtlessness; it was corrected as soon as it was perceived.

The very same day Murat drove the enemy beyond the Osma, a narrow river,

but enclosed with high banks, and of great depth, like most of the

rivers of this country, the effect of the snow, and which, at the period

of its general melting, prevents inundations. The Russian rear-guard,

covered by this obstacle, faced about and established itself on the

heights of the opposite bank. Murat ordered the ravine to be examined,

and a ford was discovered. It was through this narrow and insecure

defile that he dared to march against the Russians, to venture between

the river and their position; thus cutting off from himself all retreat,

and turning a skirmish into a desperate action. In fact, the enemy

descended in force from their height, and drove him back to the very

brink of the ravine, into which they had well-nigh precipitated him. But

Murat persisted in his error; he braved it out, and converted it into a

success. The 4th lancers carried the position, and the Russians went to

pass the night not far off; content with having made us purchase at a

dear rate a quarter of a league of ground, which they would have given

up to us for nothing during the night.

At the moment of the most imminent danger, a battery of the prince of

Eckmühl twice refused to fire. Its commanding officer pleaded his

instructions, which forbade him, upon pain of being broke, to fight

without orders from Davoust. These orders arrived, in time, according to

some, but too late according to others. I relate this incident, because,

on the following day, it was the occasion of a violent quarrel between

Murat and Davoust, in presence of the emperor, at Semlewo.

The king reproached the prince with his tardy circumspection, and more

especially with an enmity which dated from the expedition to Egypt. In

the vehemence of his passion he told him, that if there was any quarrel

between them they ought to settle it by themselves, but that the army

ought not to be made the sufferers for it.

Davoust, irritated in his turn, accused the king of temerity; according

to him "his thoughtless ardour was incessantly compromising his troops,

and wasting to no purpose, their lives, their strength, and their

stores. It was right that the emperor should at last know what was daily

occurring in his advanced guard. Every morning the enemy had disappeared

before it; but this experience led to no alteration whatever in the

march: the troops, therefore, set out late, all keeping the high-road,

and forming a single column, and in this manner they advanced in the

void till about noon.

"The enemy's rear-guard, ready to fight, was then discovered behind some

marshy ravine, the bridges over which had been broken down, and which

was commanded from the opposite bank. The light troops were instantly

brought into action, then the first regiments of cavalry that were at

hand, and then the artillery; but in general out of reach, or against

straggling cossacks, who were not worth the trouble. At length, after

vain and sanguinary attempts made in front, the king took it into his

head to reconnoitre the force and position of the enemy more accurately,

and to manoeuvre; and he sent for the infantry.

"Then after having long waited in this endless column, the ravine was

crossed on the left or on the right of the Russians, who retired under a

fire of their small arms to a new position; where the same resistance,

and the same mode of march and attack, exposed us to the same losses and

the same delays.

"In this manner the king went on from position to position, till he came

to one which was stronger or better defended. It was usually about five

in the evening, sometimes later, rarely earlier; but in this case the

tenacity of the Russians, and the hour, plainly indicated that their

whole army was there, and was determined to pass the night on the spot.

"For it could not be denied that this retreat of the Russians was

conducted with admirable order. The ground alone dictated it to them and

not Murat. Their positions were so well chosen, taken so seasonably, and

each defended so exactly in proportion to its strength, and the time

which their general wished to gain, that in truth their movements seemed

to form part of a plan which had been long determined on, carefully

traced, and executed with scrupulous exactness.

"They never abandoned a post till the moment before they were likely to

be driven from it.

"In the evening they established themselves early in a good position,

leaving under arms no more troops than were absolutely necessary to

defend it, while the remainder rested and refreshed themselves."

Davoust added that, "so far from profiting by this example, the king

paid no regard either to the hour, the strength of the situation, or the

resistance; that he dashed on among his tirailleurs, dancing about in

front of the enemy's line, feeling it in every part; putting himself in

a passion, giving his orders with loud shouts, and making himself hoarse

with repeating them; exhausting every thing, cartouch-boxes,

ammunition-waggons, men and horses, combatants and non-combatants, and

keeping all the troops under arms till night had set in.

"Then, indeed, it was found necessary to desist, and to take up their

quarters where they were; but they no longer knew where to find

necessaries. It was really pitiful to hear the soldiers wandering in the

dark, groping about, as it were, for forage, water, wood, straw, and

provisions, and then, unable to find their bivouacs again, calling out

to one another lest they should lose themselves, during the whole night.

Scarcely had they time, not to sleep, but to prepare their food.

Overwhelmed with fatigue, they cursed the hardships they had to endure,

till daylight and the enemy came to rouse them again.

"It was not the advanced guard alone that suffered in this manner, but

the whole of the cavalry. Every evening Murat had left behind him 20,000

men on horseback and under arms, on the high-road. This long column had

remained all day without eating or drinking, amidst a cloud of dust,

under a burning sky; ignorant of what was passing before it, advancing a

few paces from one quarter of an hour to another, then halting to deploy

among fields of rye, but without daring to take off the bridles and to

allow their famished horses to feed, because the king kept them

incessantly on the alert. It was to advance five or six leagues that

they thus passed sixteen tedious hours--particularly arduous for the

cuirassier horses, which had more to carry than the others, though

weaker, as the largest horses in general are, and which required more

food; hence their great carcasses were worn down to skeletons, their

flanks collapsed, they crawled rather than walked, and every moment one

was seen staggering, and another falling under his rider, who left him

to his fate."

Davoust concluded with saying, that "in this manner the whole of the

cavalry would perish; Murat, however, might dispose of that as he

pleased, but as for the infantry of the first corps, so long as he had

the command of it, he would not suffer it to be thrown away in that

manner."

The king was not backward in replying. While the emperor was listening

to them, he was at the same time playing with a Russian ball, which he

kicked about with his foot. It seemed as if there was something in the

misunderstanding between these chiefs which did not displease him. He

attributed their animosity entirely to their ardour, well aware that of

all passions glory is the most jealous.

The impatient ardour of Murat gratified his own. As the troops had

nothing to live upon but what they found, every thing was consumed at

the moment; for this reason it was necessary to make short work with the

enemy, and to proceed rapidly. Besides, the general crisis in Europe was

too strong, his situation too critical to remain there, and himself too

impatient; he wished to bring matters to a close at any rate, in order

to extricate himself.

The impetuosity of the king, therefore, seemed to suit his anxiety

better than the methodical prudence of the Prince of Eckmühl.

Accordingly, when he dismissed them, he said mildly to Davoust, that

"one person could not possess every species of merit; that he knew

better how to fight a battle than to push a rear-guard; and that if

Murat had pursued Bagration in Lithuania, he would probably not have

allowed him to escape." It is even asserted that he reproached the

marshal with a restless disposition, an anxiety to appropriate to

himself all the commands; less, indeed, from ambition than zeal, and

that all might go on better; but yet this zeal had its inconveniences.

He then sent them away with an injunction to agree better in future.

The two chiefs returned to their commands, and to their animosity. As

the war was confined to the head of the column, that also was the scene

of their disputes.

CHAP. III.

On the 28th of August, the army crossed the vast plains of the

government of Wiazma: it marched in all haste, the whole together,

through fields, and several regiments abreast, each forming a short,

close column. The high-road was left for the artillery, its waggons, and

those carrying the sick and wounded. The emperor, on horseback, was seen

every where: Murat's letters, and the approach to Wiazma, deceived him

once more with the hope of a battle: he was heard calculating on the

march the thousands of cannon-balls which he would require to crush the

hostile army.

Napoleon had assigned its place to the baggage: he published an order

for burning all vehicles which should be seen among the troops, not

excepting carts loaded with provisions, for they might embarrass the

movements of the columns, and compromise their safety in case of attack.

Having met in his way with the carriage of General Narbonne, his

aid-de-camp, he himself caused it to be set on fire, before the face of

that general, and that instantaneously, without suffering it to be

emptied; an order which was only severe, although it appeared harsh,

because he himself began by enforcing its execution, which, however, was

not followed up.

The baggage of all the corps was therefore assembled in the rear of the

army: there was, from Dorogobouje, a long train of bat-horses and

kibitks, harnessed with ropes; these vehicles were laden with booty,

provisions, military effects, men appointed to take care of them;

lastly, sick soldiers, and the arms of both, which were rusting in them.

In this column were seen many of the tall dismounted cuirassiers,

bestriding horses no bigger than our asses, because they could not

follow on foot for want of practice and of boots. On this confused and

disorderly multitude, as well as on most of the marauders on our flanks,

the cossacks might have made successful _coups de main_. They would

thereby have harassed the army, and retarded its march, but Barclay

seemed fearful of discouraging us: he put out his strength only against

our advanced guard, and that but just sufficiently to slacken without

stopping our progress.

This determination of Barclay's, the declining strength of the army, the

quarrels between its chiefs, the approach of the decisive moment, gave

uneasiness to Napoleon. At Dresden, at Witepsk, and even at Smolensk, he

had hoped in vain for a communication from Alexander. At Ribky, on the

28th of August, he appeared to solicit one: a letter from Berthier to

Barclay, in no other respect worthy of notice, concluded with these

words: "The emperor directs me to request you to present his compliments

to the emperor Alexander; tell him that neither the vicissitudes of war,

nor any other circumstance, can diminish the friendship which he feels

for him."

The same day, the 28th of August, the advanced-guard drove back the

Russians as far as Wiazma; the army, thirsty from the march, the heat

and the dust, was in want of water; the troops disputed the possession

of a few muddy pools, and fought near the springs, which were soon

rendered turbid and exhausted; the emperor himself was forced to put up

with this muddy beverage.

During the night, the enemy destroyed the bridges over the Wiazma,

plundered that town, and set it on fire. Murat and Davoust precipitately

advanced to extinguish the flames. The enemy defended his conflagration,

but the Wiazma was fordable near the ruins of the bridges: one part of

the advanced-guard then attacked the incendiaries, and the other the

fire, which they speedily subdued.

On this occasion some chosen men were sent to the advanced-guard, with

orders to watch the enemy closely at Wiazma, and ascertain whether they,

or our soldiers, were the real incendiaries. Their report entirely

dissipated the doubts which the emperor might still have entertained as

to the fatal resolution of the Russians. They found in this town some

resources, which pillage would soon have wasted. In passing through the

city, the emperor observed this disorder: he was exceedingly incensed,

rode into the midst of the groups of soldiers, caused a suttler to be

seized, and ordered him to be instantly tried and shot. But the meaning

of the phrase from his lips was well known; it was known, also that the

more vehement his paroxysms of anger, the sooner they were followed by

indulgence. A moment afterwards, they, therefore, merely placed in his

way the unfortunate man on his knees, with a woman and several children

beside him, whom they passed off for his family. The emperor, who had

already cooled, inquired what they wanted, and caused the man to be set

at liberty.

He was still on horseback, when he saw Belliard, for fifteen years the

companion in war of Murat, and then the chief of his staff, coming

towards him. Surprised at seeing him, the emperor fancied some

misfortune had happened. Belliard first relieved his apprehensions, and

then added, that "Beyond the Wiazma, behind a ravine, on an advantageous

position, the enemy had shown himself in force and ready for battle;

that the cavalry on both sides immediately engaged, and as the infantry

became necessary, the king in person put himself at the head of one of

Davoust's divisions, and drew it out to lead it against the enemy; but

that the marshal hastened up, calling to his men to halt, loudly

censuring that manoeuvre, harshly reproaching the king for it, and

forbidding his generals to obey him: that Murat then appealed to his

dignity, to his military rank, to the exigency of the occasion, but in

vain; that, finally, he had sent to declare to the emperor his disgust

for a command so contested, and to tell him that he must choose between

him and Davoust."

This intelligence threw Napoleon into a passion: he exclaimed, that

"Davoust was unmindful of all subordination; that he forgot the respect

due to his brother-in-law, to him whom he had appointed his lieutenant;"

and he sent Berthier with orders that Compans's division, the same which

had been the subject of the altercation, should be thenceforward under

the command of the king. Davoust did not defend the manner, but merely

the motive of his act, either from prejudice against the habitual

temerity of the king, from spleen, or that he was a better judge of the

ground, and the manoeuvre adapted to it, which is very possible.

Meanwhile the combat had finished, and Murat, whose attention was no

longer diverted by the enemy, was wholly occupied with the thoughts of

his quarrel. Shut up with Belliard, and hiding himself in a manner in

his tent, as his memory recalled the expressions of the marshal, his

blood became more and more inflamed with shame and rage. "He had been

set at defiance, and publicly insulted, and Davoust still lived! What

did he care for the anger of the emperor, and for his decision? it was

for him to revenge his own wrong! What signified his rank? it was his

sword alone that had made him a king, and it was to that alone he should

appeal!" He was already snatching up his arms to go and attack Davoust,

when Belliard stopped him, by urging existing circumstances, the example

he ought to set to the army, the enemy to be pursued, and that it would

be wrong to distress his friends and delight the foe by so desperate a

proceeding.

The general says, that he then saw the king curse his crown, and strive

to swallow the affront; but that tears of spite rolled down his cheeks

and fell upon his clothes. Whilst he was thus tormenting himself,

Davoust, obstinately persisting in his opinion, said that the emperor

was misinformed, and remained quietly in his head-quarters.

Napoleon returned to Wiazma, where he was obliged to stop to ascertain

the advantages that he might derive from his new conquest. The accounts

which he received from the interior of Russia, represented the hostile

government as appropriating to itself our successes, and inculcating the

belief that the loss of so many provinces was the effect of a general

plan of retreat, adopted beforehand. Papers seized at Wiazma stated that

_Te Deum_ had been sung at Petersburgh for pretended victories at

Witepsk or Smolensk. "What!" he exclaimed in astonishment, "_Te Deum!_

Dare they then lie to God as well as to men?"

For the rest, most of the intercepted Russian letters expressed the same

astonishment. "While our villages are blazing," said they, "we hear

nothing here but the ringing of bells, hymns of thanksgiving, and

triumphant reports. It seems as if they would make us thank God for the

victories of the French. Thus there is lying in the air, lying on earth,

lying in words and in writing, lying to Heaven and earth, lying in every

thing. Our great men treat Russia like a child, but there is no small

degree of credulity in believing us to be so credulous."

Very just reflections, if means so gross had been employed to deceive

those who were capable of writing such letters. At any rate, though

these political falsehoods are generally resorted to, it was plain that

when carried to such excess, they were a satire either on the governors

or the governed, and, perhaps, on both.

During this time the advanced-guard pushed the Russians as far as Gjatz,

exchanging a few balls with them,--an exchange which was almost always

to the disadvantage of the French, the Russians taking care to employ

only their long pieces, which would carry much farther than ours.

Another remark which we made was, that from Smolensk the Russians had

neglected to burn the villages and the mansions. As they are of a

character which aims at effect, this obscure evil probably appeared to

them to be a useless one. They were satisfied with the more signal

conflagrations of their cities.

This defect, if that negligence proceeded from it, turned, as is

frequently the case with all other defects, to the advantage of their

enemies. In these villages, the French army found forage, corn, ovens

for baking, and shelter. Others observed on this point, that all these

devastations were allotted to cossacks, to barbarians; and that these

hordes, either from hatred or contempt of civilization, seemed to take a

savage and particular pleasure in the destruction of the towns.

CHAP. IV.

On the 1st of September, about noon, there was only a copse of fir-trees

between Murat and Gjatz. The appearance of cossacks obliged him to

deploy his first regiments, but in his impatience he soon sent for some

horse, and having himself driven the Russians from the wood which they

occupied, he crossed it and found himself at the gates of Gjatz. This

sight animated the French, and they instantly made themselves masters of

the town as far as the river which parts it into two, and the bridges of

which had been already set on fire.

There, as at Smolensk and Wiazma, whether by chance, or from the relic

of a Tartar custom, the bazaar was on the Asiatic side, on the bank

opposite to us. The Russian rear-guard, secured by the river, had time,

therefore, to burn that whole quarter. Nothing but the promptitude of

Murat saved the rest.

The troops crossed the Gjatz as they could, on planks, in a few boats,

and by fording. The Russians disappeared behind the flames, whither our

foremost riflemen followed them,--when they saw an inhabitant come

forth, approach them, and cry out that he was a Frenchman. His joy and

his accent confirmed his assertion. They conducted him to Davoust, who

interrogated him.

According to the account of this man, there had been a great change in

the Russian army. A violent clamour had been raised from its ranks

against Barclay. It had been re-echoed by the nobility, by the

merchants, by all Moscow. "That general, that minister, was a traitor;

he caused all their divisions to be destroyed piece-meal; he was

dishonouring the army by an interminable flight; yet, at the same time,

they were labouring under the disgrace of an invasion, and their towns

were in flames. If it was necessary to determine upon this ruin, they

might as well sacrifice themselves at once; then, there would be at

least some honour, whereas, to suffer themselves to be sacrificed by a

stranger, was losing every thing, the honour of the sacrifice not

excepted.

"But why employ this stranger? Was not the contemporary, the comrade,

the rival of Suwarrow yet living? A Russian was wanted to save Russia!"

And they all called for, all were anxious for Kutusof and a battle. The

Frenchman added, that Alexander had yielded; that the insubordination of

Bagration, and the universal outcry, had obtained from him that general

and a battle; and that, moreover, after drawing the invading army so

far, the Russian emperor had himself judged a general engagement

unavoidable.

Finally, he related, that the arrival of Kutusof on the 29th of August

at Tzarewo-zaimizcze, between Wiazma and Gjatz, and the announcement of

a speedy battle, had intoxicated the enemy with two-fold joy; that all

had immediately marched towards Borodino,--not to continue their flight,

but to fix themselves on this frontier of the government of Moscow, to

root themselves to the soil, and defend it; in short, to conquer there

or die.

An incident, otherwise not worthy of notice, seemed to confirm this

intelligence; this was the arrival of a Russian officer with a flag of

truce. He had so little to say, that it was evident from the first that

he came only to observe. His manner was particularly displeasing to

Davoust, who read in it something more than assurance. A French general

having inconsiderately asked this stranger what we should find between

Wiazma and Moscow, the Russian proudly replied, "Pultowa." This answer

bespoke a battle; it pleased the French, who are fond of a smart

repartee, and delight to meet with enemies worthy of themselves.

This officer was conducted back without precaution, as he had been

brought. He saw that there was no obstacle to prevent access to our very

head-quarters; he traversed our advanced posts without meeting with a

single vidette; every where the same negligence was perceptible, and the

temerity so natural to Frenchmen and to conquerors. Every one was

asleep; there was no watchword, no patroles; our soldiers seemed to

despise these details, as too trivial. Wherefore so many precautions?

They attacked--they were victorious: it was for the Russians to defend

themselves! This officer has since said, that he was tempted to take

advantage that very night of our imprudence, but that he did not find

any Russian corps within his reach.

The enemy, in his haste to burn the bridges over the Gjatz, left behind

some of his cossacks; they were taken and conducted to the emperor, who

was approaching on horseback. Napoleon wished to question them himself.

He sent for his interpreter, and caused two of these Scythians, whose

strange dress and wild look were remarkable, to be placed by his side.

In this manner he entered Gjatz, and passed through that town. The

answers of these barbarians corresponded with the account of the

Frenchman; and during the night of the 1st of September, all the reports

from the advanced posts confirmed their accuracy.

Thus Barclay had, singly against all, supported till the very last

moment that plan of retreat, which in 1807 he had vaunted to one of our

generals as the only expedient for saving Russia. Among us, he was

commended for having persisted in this prudent defensive system, in

spite of the clamours of a proud nation irritated by misfortune, and

before so aggressive an enemy.

He had, no doubt, failed in suffering himself to be surprised at Wilna,

and for not considering the marshy course of the Berezina as the proper

frontier of Lithuania; but it was remarked that, subsequently, at Witepsk

and Smolensk, he had forestalled Napoleon; that on the Loutcheza, on the

Dnieper, and at Valoutina, his resistance had been proportionate to time

and place; that this petty warfare, and the losses occasioned by it, had

been but too much in his favour; every retrograde step of his drawing us

to a greater distance from our reinforcements, and carrying him nearer to

his: in short, all that he had done, he had done judiciously, whether he

had hazarded, defended, or abandoned.

And yet he had drawn upon himself general animadversion! But this was,

in our opinion, his highest panegyric. We thought the better of him for

despising public opinion, when it had gone astray; for having contented

himself with watching our motions in order to profit by them, and for

having proved that, most frequently, nations are saved in spite of

themselves.

Barclay showed himself still greater during the rest of the campaign.

This commander in chief, and minister at war, who had been deprived of

the command, that it might be given to Kutusof, voluntarily served under

him, and was seen to obey with as much zeal as he had commanded.

CHAP. V.

The Russian army at length halted. Miloradowitch, with sixteen thousand

recruits, and a host of peasants, bearing the cross and shouting, "_'Tis

the will of God!_" hastened to join its ranks. We were informed that the

enemy were turning up the whole plain of Borodino, and covering it with

entrenchments, apparently with the determination of rooting themselves

there, and not falling back any further.

Napoleon announced a battle to his army; he allowed it two days to rest,

to prepare its arms, and to collect subsistence. He merely warned the

detachments sent out in quest of provisions, that "if they did not

return the following day, they would deprive themselves of the honour of

fighting."

The emperor then endeavoured to obtain some information concerning his

new adversary. Kutusof was described to him as an old man, the

groundwork of whose reputation had been formerly laid by a singular

wound. He had since skilfully profited by circumstances. The very defeat

of Austerlitz, which he had foreseen, added to his renown, which was

further increased by his late campaigns against the Turks. His valour

was incontestable, but he was charged with regulating its vehemence

according to his private interest; for he calculated every thing. His

genius was slow, vindictive, and, above all, crafty--the true Tartar

character!--knowing the art of preparing an implacable war with a

fawning, supple, and patient policy.

In other respects, he was more an adroit courtier than an able general:

but formidable by his renown, by his address in augmenting it, and in

making others concur in this object. He had contrived to flatter the

whole nation, and every individual of it, from the general to the

private soldier.

It was added, that there was in his person, in his language, nay, even

in his very dress, his superstitious practices and his age, a remnant of

Suwarrow,--the stamp of an ancient Muscovite, an air of nationality,

which rendered him dear to the Russians: at Moscow the joy at his

appointment had been carried to intoxication; people embraced one

another in the streets, and considered themselves as saved.

When Napoleon had learned these particulars, and given his orders, he

awaited the event with that tranquillity of mind peculiar to

extraordinary men. He quietly employed himself in exploring the environs

of his head-quarters. He remarked the progress of agriculture; but at

the sight of the Gjatz, which pours its waters into the Wolga, he who

had conquered so many rivers, felt anew the first emotions of his glory:

he was heard to boast of being the master of those waves destined to

visit Asia,--as if they were proceeding to announce his approach, and to

open for him the way to that quarter of the globe.

[Illustration: Portrait of Murat, King of Naples]

On the 4th of September, the army, still divided into three columns, set

out from Gjatz and its environs. Murat had gone on a few leagues before.

Ever since the arrival of Kutusof, troops of cossacks had been

incessantly hovering about the heads of our columns. Murat was

exasperated at seeing his cavalry forced to deploy against so feeble an

obstacle. We are assured that on that day, from one of those first

impulses worthy of the ages of chivalry, he dashed suddenly and alone

towards their line, stopped short a few paces from them, and there,

sword in hand, made a sign for them to retire, with an air and gesture

so commanding, that these barbarians obeyed, and fell back in amazement.

This circumstance, which was related to us immediately, was received

without incredulity. The martial air of that monarch, the brilliancy of

his chivalrous dress, his reputation, and the novelty of such an action,

caused this momentary ascendancy to appear true, in spite of its

improbability; for such was Murat, a theatrical monarch by the splendor

of his dress, and truly a king by his extraordinary valour and his

inexhaustible activity; bold as the attack, and always armed with that

air of superiority, that threatening audacity, which is the most

dangerous of offensive weapons.