Produced by David Widger.
*VANINKA*
_By_
*Alexandre Dumas, Pere*
_From the set of Eight Volumes of "Celebrated Crimes"_
1910
CONTENTS
*VANINKA*
*VANINKA*
About the end of the reign of the Emperor Paul I--that is to say,
towards the middle of the first year of the nineteenth century--just as
four o'clock in the afternoon was sounding from the church of St. Peter
and St. Paul, whose gilded vane overlooks the ramparts of the fortress,
a crowd, composed of all sorts and conditions of people, began to gather
in front of a house which belonged to General Count Tchermayloff,
formerly military governor of a fair-sized town in the government of
Pultava. The first spectators had been attracted by the preparations
which they saw had been made in the middle of the courtyard for
administering torture with the knout. One of the general's serfs, he who
acted as barber, was to be the victim.
Although this kind of punishment was a common enough sight in St.
Petersburg, it nevertheless attracted all passers-by when it was
publicly administered. This was the occurrence which had caused a crowd,
as just mentioned, before General Tchermayloff's house.
The spectators, even had they been in a hurry, would have had no cause
to complain of being kept waiting, for at half-past four a young man of
about five-and-twenty, in the handsome uniform of an aide-de-camp, his
breast covered with decorations, appeared on the steps at the farther
end of the court-yard in front of the house. These steps faced the large
gateway, and led to the general's apartments.
Arrived on the steps, the young aide-de-camp stopped a moment and fixed
his eyes on a window, the closely drawn curtains of which did not allow
him the least chance of satisfying his curiosity, whatever may have been
its cause. Seeing that it was useless and that he was only wasting time
in gazing in that direction, he made a sign to a bearded man who was
standing near a door which led to the servants' quarters. The door was
immediately opened, and the culprit was seen advancing in the middle of
a body of serfs and followed by the executioner. The serfs were forced
to attend the spectacle, that it might serve as an example to them. The
culprit was the general's barber, as we have said, and the executioner
was merely the coachman, who, being used to the handling of a whip, was
raised or degraded, which you will, to the office of executioner every
time punishment with the knout was ordered. This duty did not deprive
him of either the esteem or even the friendship of his comrades, for
they well knew that it was his arm alone that punished them and that his
heart was not in his work. As Ivan's arm as well as the rest of his body
was the property of the general, and the latter could do as he pleased
with it, no one was astonished that it should be used for this purpose.
More than that, correction administered by Ivan was nearly always
gentler than that meted out by another; for it often happened that Ivan,
who was a good-natured fellow, juggled away one or two strokes of the
knout in a dozen, or if he were forced by those assisting at the
punishment to keep a strict calculation, he manoeuvred so that the tip
of the lash struck the deal plank on which the culprit was lying, thus
taking much of the sting out of the stroke. Accordingly, when it was
Ivan's turn to be stretched upon the fatal plank and to receive the
correction he was in the habit of administering, on his own account,
those who momentarily played his part as executioner adopted the same
expedients, remembering only the strokes spared and not the strokes
received. This exchange of mutual benefits, therefore, was productive of
an excellent understanding between Ivan and his comrades, which was
never so firmly knit as at the moment when a fresh execution was about
to take place. It is true that the first hour after the punishment was
generally so full of suffering that the knouted was sometimes unjust to
the knouter, but this feeling seldom out-lasted the evening, and it was
rare when it held out after the first glass of spirits that the operator
drank to the health of his patient.
The serf upon whom Ivan was about to exercise his dexterity was a man of
five or six-and-thirty, red of hair and beard, a little above average
height. His Greek origin might be traced in his countenance, which even
in its expression of terror had preserved its habitual characteristics
of craft and cunning.
When he arrived at the spot where the punishment was to take place, the
culprit stopped and looked up at the window which had already claimed
the young aide-de-camp's attention; it still remained shut. With a
glance round the throng which obstructed the entrance leading to the
street, he ended by gazing, with a horror-stricken shudder upon the
plank on which he was to be stretched. The shudder did not escape his
friend Ivan, who, approaching to remove the striped shirt that covered
his shoulders, took the opportunity to whisper under his breath--
"Come, Gregory, take courage!"
"You remember your promise?" replied the culprit, with an indefinable
expression of entreaty.
"Not for the first lashes, Gregory; do not count on that, for during the
first strokes the aide-de-camp will be watching; but among the later
ones be assured I will find means of cheating him of some of them."
"Beyond everything you will take care of the tip of the lash?"
"I will do my best, Gregory, I will do my best. Do you not know that I
will?"
"Alas! yes," replied Gregory.
"Now, then!" said the aide-de-camp.
"We are ready, noble sir," replied Ivan.
"Wait, wait one moment, your high origin," cried poor Gregory,
addressing the young captain as though he had been a colonel, "Vache
Vousso Korodie," in order to flatter him. "I believe that the lady
Vaninka's window is about to open!"
The young captain glanced eagerly towards the spot which had already
several times claimed his attention, but not a fold of the silken
curtains, which could be seen through the panes of the window, had
moved.
"You are mistaken, you rascal," said the aide-de-camp, unwillingly
removing his eyes from the window, as though he also had hoped to see it
open, "you are mistaken; and besides, what has your noble mistress to do
with all this?"
"Pardon, your excellency," continued Gregory, gratifying the
aide-de-camp with yet higher rank,--"pardon, but it is through her
orders I am about to suffer. Perhaps she might have pity upon a wretched
servant!"
"Enough, enough; let us proceed," said the captain in an odd voice, as
though he regretted as well as the culprit that Vaninka had not shown
mercy.
"Immediately, immediately, noble sir," said Ivan; then turning to
Gregory, he continued, "Come, comrade; the time has come."
Gregory sighed heavily, threw a last look up at the window, and seeing
that everything remained the same there, he mustered up resolution
enough to lie down on the fatal plank. At the same time two other serfs,
chosen by Ivan for assistants, took him by the arms and attached his
wrists to two stakes, one at either side of him, so that it appeared as
though he were stretched on a cross. Then they clamped his neck into an
iron collar, and seeing that all was in readiness and that no sign
favourable to the culprit had been made from the still closely shut
window, the young aide-de-camp beckoned with his hand, saying, "Now,
then, begin!"
"Patience, my lord, patience," said Ivan, still delaying the whipping,
in the hope that some sign might yet be made from the inexorable window.
"I have a knot in my knout, and if I leave it Gregory will have good
right to complain."
The instrument with which the executioner was busying himself, and which
is perhaps unknown to our readers, was a species of whip, with a handle
about two feet long. A plaited leather thong, about four feet long and
two inches broad, was attached to this handle, this thong terminating in
an iron or copper ring, and to this another band of leather was
fastened, two feet long, and at the beginning about one and a half
inches thick: this gradually became thinner, till it ended in a point.
The thong was steeped in milk and then dried in the sun, and on account
of this method of preparation its edge became as keen and cutting as a
knife; further, the thong was generally changed at every sixth stroke,
because contact with blood softened it.
However unwillingly and clumsily Ivan set about untying the knot, it had
to come undone at last. Besides, the bystanders were beginning to
grumble, and their muttering disturbed the reverie into which the young
aide-de-camp had fallen. He raised his head, which had been sunk on his
breast, and cast a last look towards the window; then with a peremptory
sign; and in a voice which admitted of no delay, he ordered the
execution to proceed.
Nothing could put it off any longer: Ivan was obliged to obey, and he
did not attempt to find any new pretext for delay. He drew back two
paces, and with a spring he returned to his place, and standing on
tiptoe, he whirled the knout above his head, and then letting it
suddenly fall, he struck Gregory with such dexterity that the lash
wrapped itself thrice round his victim's body, encircling him like a
serpent, but the tip of the thong struck the plank upon which Gregory
was lying. Nevertheless, in spite of this precaution, Gregory uttered a
loud shriek, and Ivan counted "One."
At the shriek, the young aide-de-camp again turned towards the window;
but it was still shut, and mechanically his eyes went back to the
culprit, and he repeated the word "One."
The knout had traced three blue furrows on Gregory's shoulders. Ivan
took another spring, and with the same skill as before he again
enveloped the culprit's body with the hissing thong, ever taking care
that the tip of it should not touch him. Gregory uttered another shriek,
and Ivan counted "Two." The blood now began to colour the skin.
At the third stroke several drops of blood appeared; at the fourth the
blood spurted out; at the fifth some drops spattered the young officer's
face; he drew back, and wiped them away with his handkerchief. Ivan
profited by his distraction, and counted seven instead of six: the
captain took no notice. At the ninth stroke Ivan stopped to change the
lash, and in the hope that a second fraud might pass off as luckily as
the first, he counted eleven instead of ten.
At that moment a window opposite to Vaninka's opened, and a man about
forty-five or fifty in general's uniform appeared. He called out in a
careless tone, "Enough, that will do," and closed the window again.
Immediately on this apparition the young aide-de-camp had turned towards
his general, saluting, and during the few seconds that the general was
present he remained motionless. When the window had been shut again, he
repeated the general's words, so that the raised whip fell without
touching the culprit.
"Thank his excellency, Gregory," said Ivan, rolling the knout's lash
round his hand, "for having spared you two strokes;" and he added,
bending down to liberate Gregory's hand, "these two with the two I was
able to miss out make a total of eight strokes instead of twelve. Come,
now, you others, untie his other hand."
But poor Gregory was in no state to thank anybody; nearly swooning with
pain, he could scarcely stand.
Two moujiks took him by the arms and led him towards the serfs'
quarters, followed by Ivan. Having reached the door, however, Gregory
stopped, turned his head, and seeing the aide-de-camp gazing pitifully
at him, "Oh sir," he cried, "please thank his excellency the general for
me. As for the lady Vaninka," he added in a low tone, "I will certainly
thank her myself."
"What are you muttering between your teeth?" cried the young officer,
with an angry movement; for he thought he had detected a threatening
tone in Gregory's voice.
"Nothing, sir, nothing," said Ivan. "The poor fellow is merely thanking
you, Mr. Foedor, for the trouble you have taken in being present at his
punishment, and he says that he has been much honoured, that is all."
"That is right," said the young man, suspecting that Ivan had somewhat
altered the original remarks, but evidently not wishing to be better
informed. "If Gregory wishes to spare me this trouble another time, let
him drink less vodka; or else, if he must get drunk, let him at least
remember to be more respectful."
Ivan bowed low and followed his comrades, Foedor entered the house
again, and the crowd dispersed, much dissatisfied that Ivan's trickery
and the general's generosity had deprived them of four strokes of the
knout--exactly a third of the punishment.
Now that we have introduced our readers to some of the characters in
this history, we must make them better acquainted with those who have
made their appearance, and must introduce those who are still behind the
curtain.
General Count Tchermayloff, as we have said, after having been governor
of one of the most important towns in the environs of Pultava, had been
recalled to St. Petersburg by the Emperor Paul, who honoured him with
his particular friendship. The general was a widower, with one daughter,
who had inherited her mother's fortune, beauty, and pride. Vaninka's
mother claimed descent from one of the chieftains of the Tartar race,
who had invaded Russia, under the leadership of D'Gengis, in the
thirteenth century. Vaninka's naturally haughty disposition had been
fostered by the education she had received. His wife being dead, and not
having time to look after his daughter's education himself, General
Tchermayloff had procured an English governess for her. This lady,
instead of suppressing her pupil's scornful propensities, had encouraged
them, by filling her head with those aristocratic ideas which have made
the English aristocracy the proudest in the world. Amongst the different
studies to which Vaninka devoted herself, there was one in which she was
specially interested, and that one was, if one may so call it, the
science of her own rank. She knew exactly the relative degree of
nobility and power of all the Russian noble families--those that were a
grade above her own, and those of whom she took precedence. She could
give each person the title which belonged to their respective rank, no
easy thing to do in Russia, and she had the greatest contempt for all
those who were below the rank of excellency. As for serfs and slaves,
for her they did not exist: they were mere bearded animals, far below
her horse or her dog in the sentiments which they inspired in her; and
she would not for one instant have weighed the life of a serf against
either of those interesting animals.
Like all the women of distinction in her nation, Vaninka was a good
musician, and spoke French, Italian, German, and English equally well.
Her features had developed in harmony with her character. Vaninka was
beautiful, but her beauty was perhaps a little too decided. Her large
black eyes, straight nose, and lips curling scornfully at the corners,
impressed those who saw her for the first time somewhat unpleasantly.
This impression soon wore off with her superiors and equals, to whom she
became merely an ordinary charming woman, whilst to subalterns and such
like she remained haughty and inaccessible as a goddess. At seventeen
Vaninka's education was finished, and her governess who had suffered in
health through the severe climate of St. Petersburg, requested
permission to leave. This desire was granted with the ostentatious
recognition of which the Russian nobility are the last representatives
in Europe. Thus Vaninka was left alone, with nothing but her father's
blind adoration to direct her. She was his only daughter, as we have
mentioned, and he thought her absolutely perfect.
Things were in this state in the-general's house when he received a
letter, written on the deathbed of one of the friends of his youth.
Count Romayloff had been exiled to his estates, as a result of some
quarrel with Potemkin, and his career had been spoilt. Not being able to
recover his forfeited position, he had settled down about four hundred
leagues from St. Petersburg; broken-hearted, distressed probably less on
account of his own exile and misfortune than of the prospects of his
only son, Foedor. The count feeling that he was leaving this son alone
and friendless in the world, commended the young man, in the name of
their early friendship, to the general, hoping that, owing to his being
a favourite with Paul I, he would be able to procure a lieutenancy in a
regiment for him. The general immediately replied to the count that his
son should find a second father in himself; but when this comforting
message arrived, Romayloff was no more, and Foedor himself received the
letter and carried it back with him to the general, when he went to tell
him of his loss and to claim the promised protection. So great was the
general's despatch, that Paul I, at his request, granted the young man a
sub-lieutenancy in the Semonowskoi regiment, so that Foedor entered on
his duties the very next day after his arrival in St. Petersburg.
Although the young man had only passed through the general's house on
his way to the barracks, which were situated in the Litenoi quarter, he
had remained there long enough for him to have seen Vaninka, and she had
produced a great impression upon him. Foedor had arrived with his heart
full of primitive and noble feelings; his gratitude to his protector,
who had opened a career for him, was profound, and extended to all his
family. These feelings caused him perhaps to have an exaggerated idea of
the beauty of the young girl who was presented to him as a sister, and
who, in spite of this title, received him with the frigidity and hauteur
of a queen. Nevertheless, her appearance, in spite of her cool and
freezing manner, had left a lasting impression upon the young man's
heart, and his arrival in St. Petersburg had been marked by feelings
till then never experienced before in his life.
As for Vaninka, she had hardly noticed Foedor; for what was a young
sub-lieutenant, without fortune or prospects, to her? What she dreamed
of was some princely alliance, that would make her one of the most
powerful ladies in Russia, and unless he could realise some dream of the
Arabian Nights, Foedor could not offer her such a future.
Some time after this first interview, Foedor came to take leave of the
general. His regiment was to form part of a contingent that
Field-Marshal Souvarow was taking to Italy, and Foedor was about to die,
or show himself worthy of the noble patron who had helped him to a
career.
This time, whether on account of the elegant uniform that heightened
Foedor's natural good looks, or because his imminent departure, glowing
with hope and enthusiasm, lent a romantic interest to the young man,
Vaninka was astonished at the marvellous change in him, and deigned, at
her father's request, to give him her hand when he left. This was more
than Foedor had dared to hope. He dropped upon his knee, as though in
the presence of a queen, and took Vaninka's between his own trembling
hands, scarcely daring to touch it with his lips. Light though the kiss
had been, Vaninka started as though she had been burnt; she felt a
thrill run through her, and she blushed violently. She withdrew her hand
so quickly, that Foedor, fearing this adieu, respectful though it was,
had offended her, remained on his knees, and clasping his hands, raised
his eyes with such an expression of fear in them, that Vaninka,
forgetting her hauteur, reassured him with a smile. Foedor rose, his
heart filled with inexplicable joy, and without being able to say what
had caused this feeling, he only knew that it had made him absolutely
happy, so that, although he was just about to leave Vaninka, he had
never felt greater happiness in his life.
The young man left dreaming golden dreams; for his future, be it gloomy
or bright, was to be envied. If it ended in a soldier's grave, he
believed he had seen in Vaninka's eyes that she would mourn him; if his
future was glorious, glory would bring him back to St. Petersburg in
triumph, and glory is a queen, who works miracles for her favourites.
The army to which the young officer belonged crossed Germany, descended
into Italy by the Tyrolese mountains, and entered Verona on the 14th of
April 1799. Souvarow immediately joined forces with General Melas, and
took command of the two armies. General Chasteler next day suggested
that they should reconnoitre. Souvarow, gazing at him with astonishment,
replied, "I know of no other way of reconnoitring the enemy than by
marching upon him and giving him battle."
As a matter of fact Souvarow was accustomed to this expeditious sort of
strategy: through it he had defeated the Turks at Folkschany and
Ismailoff; and he had defeated the Poles, after a few days' campaign,
and had taken Prague in less than four hours. Catherine, out of
gratitude, had sent her victorious general a wreath of oak-leaves,
intertwined with precious stones, and worth six hundred thousand
roubles, a heavy gold field-marshal's baton encrusted with diamonds; and
had created him a field-marshal, with the right of choosing a regiment
that should bear his name from that time forward. Besides, when he
returned to Russia, she gave him leave of absence, that he might take a
holiday at a beautiful estate she had given him, together with the eight
thousand serfs who lived upon it.
What a splendid example for Foedor! Souvarow, the son of a humble
Russian officer, had been educated at the ordinary cadets' training
college, and had left it as a sub-lieutenant like himself. Why should
there not be two Souvarows in the same century?
Souvarow arrived in Italy preceded by an immense reputation; religious,
strenuous, unwearied, impassible, loving with the simplicity of a Tartar
and fighting with the fury of a Cossack, he was just the man required to
continue General Melas's successes over the soldiers of the Republic,
discouraged as they had been by the weak vacillations of Scherer.
The Austro-Russian army of one hundred thousand men was opposed by only
twenty-nine or thirty thousand French. Souvarow began as usual with a
thundering blow. On 20th April he appeared before Brescia, which made a
vain attempt at resistance; after a cannonade of about half an hour's
duration, the Preschiera gate was forced, and the Korsakow division, of
which Foedor's regiment formed the vanguard, charged into the town,
pursuing the garrison, which only consisted of twelve hundred men, and
obliged them to take refuge in the citadel. Pressed with an impetuosity
the French were not accustomed to find in their enemies, and seeing that
the scaling ladders were already in position against the ramparts, the
captain Boucret wished to come to terms; but his position was too
precarious for him to obtain any conditions from his savage conquerors,
and he and his soldiers were made prisoners of war.
Souvarow was experienced enough to know how best to profit by victory;
hardly master of Brescia, the rapid occupation of which had discouraged
our army anew, he ordered General Kray to vigorously press on the siege
of Preschiera. General Kray therefore established his headquarters at
Valeggio, a place situated at an equal distance between Preschiera and
Mantua, and he extended from the Po to the lake of Garda, on the banks
of the Mencio, thus investing the two cities at the same time.
Meanwhile the commander-in-chief had advanced, accompanied by the larger
part of his forces, and had crossed the Oglio in two columns: he
launched one column, under General Rosenberg, towards Bergamo, and the
other, with General Melas in charge, towards the Serio, whilst a body of
seven or eight thousand men, commanded by General Kaim and General
Hohenzollern, were directed towards Placentia and Cremona, thus
occupying the whole of the left bank of the Po, in such a manner that
the Austro-Russian army advanced deploying eighty thousand men along a
front of forty-five miles.
In view of the forces which were advancing, and which were three times
as large as his own, Scherer beat a retreat all along the line. He
destroyed the bridges over the Adda, as he did not consider that he was
strong enough to hold them, and, having removed his headquarters to
Milan, he awaited there the reply to a despatch which he had sent to the
Directory, in which, tacitly acknowledging his incapacity, he tendered
his resignation. As the arrival of his successor was delayed, and as
Souvarow continued to advance, Scherer, more and more terrified by the
responsibility which rested upon him, relinquished his command into the
hands of his most able lieutenant. The general chosen by him was Moreau,
who was again about to fight those Russians in whose ranks he was
destined to die at last.
Moreau's unexpected nomination was proclaimed amidst the acclamation of
the soldiers. He had been called the French Fabius, on account of his
magnificent campaign on the Rhine. He passed his whole army in review,
saluted by the successive acclamations of its different divisions, which
cried, "Long live Moreau! Long live the saviour of the army of Italy!"
But however great this enthusiasm, it did not blind Moreau to the
terrible position in which he found himself. At the risk of being
out-flanked, it was necessary for him to present a parallel line to that
of the Russian army, so that, in order to face his enemy, he was obliged
to extend his line from Lake Lecco to Pizzighitone--that is to say, a
distance of fifty miles. It is true that he might have retired towards
Piedmont and concentrated his troops at Alexandria, to await there the
reinforcements the Directory had promised to send him. But if he had
done this, he would have compromised the safety of the army at Naples,
and have abandoned it, isolated as it was, to the mercy of the enemy. He
therefore resolved to defend the passage of the Adda as long as
possible, in order to give the division under Dessolles, which was to be
despatched to him by Massena, time to join forces with him and to defend
his left, whilst Gauthier, who had received orders to evacuate Tuscany
and to hasten with forced marches to his aid, should have time to arrive
and protect his right. Moreau himself took the centre, and personally
defended the fortified bridge of Cassano; this bridge was protected by
the Ritorto Canal, and he also defended it with a great deal of
artillery and an entrenched vanguard. Besides, Moreau, always as prudent
as brave, took every precaution to secure a retreat, in case of
disaster, towards the Apennines and the coast of Genoa. Hardly were his
dispositions completed before the indefatigable Souvarow entered
Triveglio. At the same time as the Russian commander-in-chief arrived at
this last town, Moreau heard of the surrender of Bergamo and its castle,
and on 23rd April he saw the heads of the columns of the allied army.
The same day the Russian general divided his troops into three strong
columns, corresponding to the three principal points in the French line,
each column numerically more than double the strength of those to whom
they were opposed. The right column, led by General Wukassowich,
advanced towards Lake Lecco, where General Serrurier awaited it. The
left column, under the command of Melas, took up its position in front
of the Cassano entrenchments; and the Austrian division, under Generals
Zopf and Ott, which formed the centre, concentrated at Canonia, ready at
a given moment to seize Vaprio. The Russian and Austrian troops
bivouacked within cannon-shot of the French outposts.
That evening, Foedor, who with his regiment formed part of Chasteler's
division, wrote to General Tchermayloff:
"We are at last opposite the French, and a great battle must take place
to-morrow morning; tomorrow evening I shall be a lieutenant or a
corpse."
Next morning, 26th April, cannon resounded at break of day from the
extremities of the lines; on our left Prince Bagration's grenadiers
attacked us, on our right General Seckendorff, who had been detached
from the camp of Triveglio, was marching on Crema.
These two attacks met with very different success. Bagration's
grenadiers were repulsed with terrible loss, whilst Seckendorff, on the
contrary, drove the French out of Crema, and pushed forward towards the
bridge of Lodi. Foedor's predictions were falsified: his portion of the
army did nothing the whole day; his regiment remained motionless,
waiting for orders that did not come.
Souvarow's arrangements were not yet quite complete, the night was
needed for him to finish them. During the night, Moreau, having heard of
Seckendorff's success on his extreme right, sent an order to Serrurier
commanding him to leave at Lecco, which was an easy post to defend, the
18th light brigade and a detachment of dragoons only, and to draw back
with the rest of his troops towards the centre. Serrurier received this
order about two o'clock in the morning, and executed it immediately.
On their side the Russians had lost no time, profiting by the darkness
of the night. General Wukassowich had repaired the bridge at Brevio,
which had been destroyed by the French, whilst General Chasteler had
built another bridge two miles below the castle of Trezzo. These two
bridges had been, the one repaired and the other built, without the
French outposts having the slightest suspicion of what was taking place.
Surprised at two o'clock in the morning by two Austrian divisions,
which, concealed by the village of San Gervasio, had reached the right
bank of the Adda without their being discovered, the soldiers defending
the castle of Trezzo abandoned it and beat a retreat. The Austrians
pursued them as far as Pozzo, but there the French suddenly halted and
faced about, for General Serrurier was at Pozzo, with the troops he had
brought from Lecco. He heard the cannonade behind him, immediately
halted, and, obeying the first law of warfare, he marched towards the
noise and smoke. It was therefore through him that the garrison of
Trezzo rallied and resumed the offensive. Serrurier sent an aide-de-Camp
to Moreau to inform him of the manoeuvre he had thought proper to
execute.
The battle between the French and Austrian troops raged with incredible
fury. Bonaparte's veterans, during their first Italian campaigns, had
adopted a custom which they could not renounce: it was to fight His
Imperial Majesty's subjects wherever they found them. Nevertheless, so
great was the numerical superiority of the allies, that our troops had
begun to retreat, when loud shouts from the rearguard announced that
reinforcements had arrived. It was General Grenier, sent by Moreau, who
arrived with his division at the moment when his presence was most
necessary.
One part of the new division reinforced the centre column, doubling its
size; another part was extended upon the left to envelop the enemy. The
drums beat afresh down the whole line, and our grenadiers began again to
reconquer this battle field already twice lost and won. But at this
moment the Austrians were reinforced by the Marquis de Chasteler and his
division, so that the numerical superiority was again with the enemy.
Grenier drew back his wing to strengthen the centre, and Serrurier,
preparing for retreat in case of disaster, fell back on Pozzo, where he
awaited the enemy. It was here that the battle raged most fiercely:
thrice the village of Pozzo was taken and re-taken, until at last,
attacked for the fourth time by a force double their own in numbers, the
French were obliged to evacuate it. In this last attack an Austrian
colonel was mortally wounded, but, on the other hand, General Beker, who
commanded the French rearguard, refused to retreat with his soldiers,
and maintained his ground with a few men, who were slain as they stood;
he was at length obliged to give up his sword to a young Russian officer
of the Semenofskoi regiment, who, handing over his prisoner to his own
soldiers, returned immediately to the combat.
The two French generals had fixed on the village of Vaprio as a
rallying-place, but at the moment when our troops were thrown into
disorder through the evacuation of Pozzo, the Austrian cavalry charged
heavily, and Serrurier, finding himself separated from his colleague,
was obliged to retire with two thousand five hundred men to Verderio,
whilst Grenier, having reached the appointed place, Vaprio, halted to
face the enemy afresh.
During this time a terrible fight was taking place in the centre. Melas
with eighteen to twenty thousand men had attacked the fortified posts at
the head of the bridge of Cassano and the Ritorto Canal. About seven
o'clock in the morning, when Moreau had weakened himself by despatching
Grenier and his division, Melas, leading three battalions of Austrian
grenadiers, had attacked the fortifications, and for two hours there was
terrible carnage; thrice repulsed, and leaving more than fifteen hundred
men at the base of the fortifications, the Austrians had thrice returned
to the attack, each time being reinforced by fresh troops, always led on
and encouraged by Melas, who had to avenge his former defeats. At
length, having been attacked for the fourth time, forced from their
entrenchments, and contesting the ground inch by inch, the French took
shelter behind their second fortifications, which defended the entrance
to the bridge itself: here they were commanded by Moreau in person.
There, for two more hours, a hand-to-hand struggle took place, whilst
the terrible artillery belched forth death almost muzzle to muzzle. At
last the Austrians, rallying for a last time, advanced at the point of
the bayonet, and; lacking either ladders or fascines, piled the bodies
of their dead comrades against the fortifications, and succeeded in
scaling the breastworks. There was not a moment to be lost. Moreau
ordered a retreat, and whilst the French were recrossing the Adda, he
protected their passage in person with a single battalion of grenadiers,
of whom at the end of half an hour not more than a hundred and twenty
men remained; three of his aides-de-camp were killed at his side. This
retreat was accomplished without disorder, and then Moreau himself
retired, still fighting the enemy, who set foot on the bridge as soon as
he reached the other bank. The Austrians immediately rushed forward to
capture him, when suddenly a terrible noise was heard rising above the
roar of the artillery; the second arch of the bridge was blown into the
air, carrying with it all those who were standing on the fatal spot. The
armies recoiled, and into the empty space between them fell like rain a
debris of stones and human beings. But at this moment, when Moreau had
succeeded in putting a momentary obstacle between himself and Melas,
General Grenier's division arrived in disorder, after having been forced
to evacuate Vaprio, pursued by the Austro-Russians under Zopf, Ott, and
Chasteler. Moreau ordered a change of front, and faced this new enemy,
who fell upon him when he least expected them; he succeeded in rallying
Grenier's troops and in re-establishing the battle. But whilst his back
was turned Melas repaired the bridge and crossed the river; thus Moreau
found himself attacked frontally, in the rear, and on his two flanks, by
forces three times larger than his own. It was then that all the
officers who surrounded him begged him to retreat, for on the
preservation of his person depended the preservation of Italy for
France. Moreau refused for some time, for he knew the awful consequences
of the battle he had just lost, and he did not wish to survive it,
although it had been impossible for him to win it. At last a chosen band
surrounded him, and, forming a square, drew back, whilst the rest of the
army sacrificed themselves to cover his retreat; for Moreau's genius was
looked upon as the sole hope that remained to them.
The battle lasted nearly three hours longer, during which the rearguard
of the army performed prodigies of valour. At length Melas, seeing that
the enemy had escaped him, and believing that his troops, tired by the
stubborn fight, needed rest, gave orders that the fighting should cease.
He halted on the left bank of the Adda, encamping his army in the
villages of Imago, Gorgonzola, and Cassano, and remained master of the
battlefield, upon which we had left two thousand five hundred dead, one
hundred pieces of cannon, and twenty howitzers.
That night Souvarow invited General Becker to supper with him, and asked
him by whom he had been taken prisoner. Becker replied that it was a
young officer belonging to the regiment which had first entered Pozzo.
Souvarow immediately inquired what regiment this was, and discovered
that it was the Semenofskoi; he then ordered that inquiries should be
made to ascertain the young officer's name. Shortly afterwards
Sub-Lieutenant Foedor Romayloff was announced. He presented General
Becker's sword to Souvarow, who invited him to remain and to have supper
with his prisoner.
Next day Foedor wrote to his protector: "I have kept my word. I am a
lieutenant, and Field-Marshal Souvarow has requested his Majesty Paul I
to bestow upon me the order of Saint Vladimir."
On 28th of April, Souvarow entered Milan, which Moreau had just
abandoned in order to retreat beyond Tesino. The following proclamation
was by his order posted on all the walls of the capital; it admirably
paints the spirit of the Muscovite:
"The victorious army of the Apostolical and Roman Emperor is here; it
has fought solely for the restoration of the Holy Faith,--the clergy,
nobility, and ancient government of Italy. People, join us for God and
the Faith, for we have arrived with an army at Milan and Placentia to
assist you!"
The dearly bought victories of Trebia and Novi succeeded that of
Cassano, and left Souvarow so much weakened that he was unable to profit
by them. Besides, just when the Russian general was about to resume his
march, a new plan of campaign arrived, sent by the Aulic Council at
Vienna. The Allied Powers had decided upon the invasion of France, and
had fixed the route each general must follow in order to accomplish this
new project. It way decided that Souvarow should invade France by
Switzerland, and that the arch-duke should yield him his positions and
descend on the Lower Rhine.
The troops with which Souvarow was to operate against Massena from this
time were the thirty thousand Russians he had with him, thirty thousand
others detached from the reserve army commanded by Count Tolstoy in
Galicia, who were to be led to join him in Switzerland by General
Korsakoff, about thirty thousand Austrians under General Hotze, and
lastly, five or six thousand French emigrants under the Prince de Conde
in all, an army of ninety or ninety-five thousand men. The Austrians
were to oppose Moreau and Macdonald.
Foedor had been wounded when entering Novi, but Souvarow had rewarded
him with a second cross, and the rank of captain hastened his
convalescence, so that the young officer, more happy than proud of the
new rank he had received, was in a condition to follow the army, when on
13th September it moved towards Salvedra and entered the valley of
Tesino.
So far all had gone well, and as long as they remained in the rich and
beautiful Italian plains, Suovarow had nothing but praise for the
courage and devotion of his soldiers. But when to the fertile fields of
Lombardy, watered by its beautiful river, succeeded the rough ways of
the Levantine, and when the lofty summits of the St. Gothard, covered
with the eternal snows, rose before them, their enthusiasm was quenched,
their energy disappeared, and melancholy forebodings filled the hearts
of these savage children of the North.
Unexpected grumblings ran through the ranks; then suddenly the vanguard
stopped, and declared that it would go no farther. In vain Foedor, who
commanded a company, begged and entreated his own men to set an example
by continuing the march: they threw down their arms, and lay down beside
them. Just as they had given this proof of insubordination, fresh
murmurs, sounding like an approaching storm, rose from the rear of the
army: they were caused by the sight of Souvarow, who was riding from the
rear to the vanguard, and who arrived at the front accompanied by this
terrible proof of mutiny and insubordination. When he reached the head
of the column, the murmurings had developed into imprecations.
Then Souvarow addressed his soldiers with that savage eloquence to which
he owed the miracles he had effected with them, but cries of "Retreat!
Retreat!" drowned his voice. Then he chose out the most mutinous, and
had them thrashed until they were overcome by this shameful punishment:
But the thrashings had no more influence than the exhortation, and the
shouts continued. Souvarow saw that all was lost if he did not employ
some powerful and unexpected means of regaining the mutineers. He
advanced towards Foedor. "Captain," said he, "leave these fools here,
take eight non-commissioned officers and dig a grave." Foedor,
astonished, gazed at his general as though demanding an explanation of
this strange order. "Obey orders," said Souvarow.
Foedor obeyed, and the eight men set to work; and ten minutes later the
grave was dug, greatly to the astonishment of the whole army, which had
gathered in a semicircle on the rising slopes of the two hills which
bordered the road, standing as if on the steps of a huge amphitheatre.
Souvarow dismounted from his horse, broke his sword in two and threw it
into the grave, detached his epaulets one by one and threw them after
his sword, dragged off the decorations which covered his breast and cast
these after the sword and epaulets, and then, stripping himself naked,
he lay down in the grave himself, crying in a loud voice--
"Cover me with earth! Leave your general here. You are no longer my
children, and I am no longer your father; nothing remains to me but
death."
At these strange words, which were uttered in so powerful a voice that
they were heard by the whole army, the Russian grenadiers threw
themselves weeping into the grave, and, raising their general, asked
pardon of him, entreating him to lead them again against the enemy.
"At last," cried Souvarow, "I recognise my children again. To the
enemy!"
Not cries but yells of joy greeted his words. Souvarav dressed himself
again, and whilst he was dressing the leaders of the mutiny crept in the
dust to kiss his feet. Then, when his epaulets were replaced on his
shoulders, and when his decorations again shone on his breast, he
remounted his horse, followed by the army, the soldiers swearing with
one voice that they would all die rather than abandon their father.
The same day Souvarow attacked Aerolo; but his luck had turned: the
conqueror of Cassano, Trebia, and Novi had left his good-fortune behind
in the plains of Italy. For twelve hours six hundred French opposed
three thousand Russian grenadiers beneath the walls of the town, and so
successfully that night fell without Souvarow being able to defeat them.
Next day he marched the whole of his troops against this handful of
brave men, but the sky clouded over and the wind blew a bitter rain into
the faces of the Russians; the French profited by this circumstance to
beat a retreat, evacuating the valley of Ursern, crossing the Reuss, and
taking up their position on the heights of the Furka and Grimsel. One
portion of the Russian army's design had been achieved, they were
masters of the St. Gothard. It is true that as soon as they marched
farther on, the French would retake it and cut off their retreat; but
what did this matter to Souvarow? Did he not always march forward?
He marched on, then, without worrying about that which was behind him,
reached Andermatt, cleared Trou d'Ury, and found Lecourbe guarding the
defile of the Devil's Bridge with fifteen hundred men. There the
struggle began again; for three days fifteen hundred Frenchmen kept
thirty thousand Russians at bay. Souvarow raged like a lion trapped in a
snare, for he could not understand this change of fortune. At last, on
the fourth day, he heard that General Korsakoff, who had preceded him
and who was to rejoin him later, had been beaten by Molitor, and that
Massena had recaptured Zurich and occupied the canton of Glaris.
Souvarow now gave up the attempt to proceed up the valley of the Reuss,
and wrote to Korsakoff and Jallachieh, "I hasten to retrieve your
losses; stand firm as ramparts: you shall answer to me with your heads
for every step in retreat that you take." The aide-de-camp was also
charged to communicate to the Russian and Austrian generals a verbal
plan of battle. Generals Linsken and Jallachieh were to attack the
French troops separately and then to join the forces in the valley of
Glaris, into which Souvarow himself was to descend by the Klon-Thal,
thus hemming Molitor in between two walls of iron.
Souvarow was so sure that this plan would be successful, that when he
arrived on the borders of the lake of Klon-Thal, he sent a bearer with a
flag of truce, summoning Molitor to surrender, seeing that he was
surrounded on every side.
Molitor replied, to the field-marshal that his proposed meeting with his
generals had failed, as he had beaten them one after the other, and
driven them back into the Grisons, and that moreover, in retaliation, as
Massena was advancing by Muotta, it was he, Souvarow, who was between
two fires, and therefore he called upon him to lay down his arms
instead.
On hearing this strange reply, Souvarow thought that he must be
dreaming, but soon recovering himself and realising the danger of his
position in the defiles, he threw himself on General Molitor, who
received him at the point of the bayonet, and then closing up the pass
with twelve hundred men, the French succeeded in holding fifteen to
eighteen thousand Russians in check for eight hours. At length night
came, and Molitor evacuated the Klon Thal, and retired towards the
Linth, to defend the bridges of Noefels and Mollis.
The old field-marshal rushed like a torrent over Glaris and Miltodi;
there he learnt that Molitor had told him the truth, and that Jallachieh
and Linsken had been beaten and dispersed, that Massena was advancing on
Schwitz, and that General Rosenberg, who had been given the defence of
the bridge of Muotta, had been forced to retreat, so that he found
himself in the position in which he had hoped to place Molitor.
No time was to be lost in retreating. Souvarow hurried through the
passes of Engi, Schwauden, and Elm. His flight was so hurried that he
was obliged to abandon his wounded and part of his artillery.
Immediately the French rushed in pursuit among the precipices and
clouds. One saw whole armies passing over places where chamois-hunters
took off their shoes and walked barefoot, holding on by their hands to
prevent themselves from falling. Three nations had come from three
different parts to a meeting-place in the home of the eagles, as if to
allow those nearest God to judge the justice of their cause. There were
times when the frozen mountains changed into volcanoes, when cascades
now filled with blood fell into the valleys, and avalanches of human
beings rolled down the deepest precipices. Death reaped such a harvest
there where human life had never been before, that the vultures,
becoming fastidious through the abundance, picked out only the eyes of
the corpses to carry to their young--at least so says the tradition of
the peasants of these mountains.
Souvarow was able to rally his troops at length in the neighbourhood of
Lindau. He recalled Korsakoff, who still occupied Bregenz; but all his
troops together did not number more than thirty thousand men-all that
remained of the eighty thousand whom Paul had furnished as his
contingent in the coalition. In fifteen days Massena had defeated three
separate armies, each numerically stronger than his own. Souvarow,
furious at having been defeated by these same Republicans whom he had
sworn to exterminate, blamed the Austrians for his defeat, and declared
that he awaited orders from his emperor, to whom he had made known the
treachery of the allies, before attempting anything further with the
coalition.