Book: History of the Expedition to Russia

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The emperor seemed to give his consent, and sent in search of Bessieres,
who commanded these horse-guards. Unfortunately they could not find the
marshal, who, by his orders, had gone to look at the battle somewhat
nearer. The emperor waited nearly an hour without the least impatience,
or repeating his order; and when the marshal returned, he received him
with a pleasant look, heard his report quietly, and allowed him to
advance as far as he might judge it desirable.

But it was too late; he could no longer think of making the whole
Russian army prisoners, or perhaps of taking entire possession of
Russia; the field of battle was all he was likely to gain. He had
allowed Kutusof leisure to reconnoitre his positions; that general had
fortified all the points of difficult approach which remained to him,
and his cavalry covered the plain.

The Russians had thus, for the third time, renewed their left wing, in
the face of Ney and Murat. The latter summoned the cavalry of Montbrun,
who had been killed. General Caulaincourt succeeded him; he found the
aides-de-camp of the unfortunate Montbrun in tears for the loss of their
commander. "Follow me," said he to them, "weep not for him, but come and
avenge his death!"

The king pointed out to him the enemy's fresh wing; he must break
through it, and push on as far as the breast of their great battery;
when there, during the time that the light cavalry is following up his
advantage, he, Caulaincourt, must turn suddenly, on the left with his
cuirassiers, in order to take in the rear that terrible redoubt whose
front fire is still mowing the ranks of the viceroy.

Caulaincourt's reply was, "You shall see me there presently, alive or
dead." He immediately set off, overthrew all before him, and turning
suddenly round on the left with his cuirassiers, was the first to enter
the bloody redoubt, when he was struck dead by a musket-ball. His
conquest was his tomb.

They ran immediately to acquaint the emperor with this victory, and the
loss which it had occasioned. The grand-equerry, brother of the
unfortunate general, listened, and was at first petrified; but he soon
summoned courage against this misfortune, and, but for the tears which
silently coursed down his cheeks, you might have thought that he felt
nothing. The emperor, uttering an exclamation of sorrow, said to him,
"You have heard the news, do you wish to retire?" But as at that moment
we were advancing against the enemy, the grand-equerry made no reply; he
did not retire; he only half uncovered himself to thank the emperor, and
to refuse.

While this determined charge of cavalry was executing, the viceroy, with
his infantry, was on the point of reaching the mouth of this volcano,
when suddenly he saw its fires extinguished, its smoke disappear, and
its summit glittering with the moveable and resplendent armour of our
cuirassiers. These heights, hitherto Russian, had at last become French;
he hastened forward to share and terminate the victory, and to
strengthen himself in that position.

But the Russians had not yet abandoned it; they returned with greater
obstinacy and fury to the attack; successively as they were beat back by
our troops, they were again rallied by their generals, and finally the
greater part perished at the foot of these works, which they had
themselves raised.

Fortunately, their last attacking column presented itself towards
Semenowska and the great redoubt, without its artillery, the progress of
which had, no doubt, been retarded by the ravines. Belliard had barely
time to collect thirty cannon against this infantry. They came almost
close to the mouths of our pieces, which overwhelmed them so apropos,
that they wheeled round and retreated without being even able to deploy.
Murat and Belliard then said, that if they could have had at that moment
ten thousand infantry of the reserve, their victory would have been
decisive; but that, being reduced to their cavalry, they considered
themselves fortunate to keep possession of the field of battle.

On his side, Grouchy, by sanguinary and repeated charges on the left of
the great redoubt, secured the victory, and scoured the plain. But it
was impossible to pursue the fugitive Russians; fresh ravines, with
armed redoubts behind them, protected their retreat. There they defended
themselves with fury until the approach of night, covering in this
manner the great road to Moscow, their holy city, their magazine, their
depot, their place of refuge.

From this second range of heights, their artillery overwhelmed the first
which they had abandoned to us. The viceroy was obliged to conceal his
panting, exhausted, and thinned lines in the hollows of the ground, and
behind the half-destroyed entrenchments. The soldiers were obliged to
get upon their knees, and crouch themselves up behind these shapeless
parapets. In that painful posture they remained for several hours, kept
in check by the enemy, who stood in check of them.

It was about half-past three o'clock when this last victory was
achieved; there had been several such during the day; each corps
successively beat that which was opposed to it, without being able to
take advantage of its success to decide the battle; as, not being
supported in proper time by the reserve, each halted exhausted. But at
last all the first obstacles were overcome; the firing gradually
slackened, and got to a greater distance from the emperor. Officers were
coming in to him from all parts. Poniatowski and Sebastiani, after an
obstinate contest, were also victorious. The enemy halted, and
entrenched himself in a new position. It was getting late, our
ammunition was exhausted, and the battle ended.

Belliard then returned for the third time to the emperor, whose
sufferings appeared to have increased. He mounted his horse with
difficulty, and rode slowly along the heights of Semenowska. He found a
field of battle imperfectly gained, as the enemy's bullets, and even
their musket-balls, still disputed the possession of it with us.

In the midst of these warlike noises, and the still burning ardour of
Ney and Murat, he continued always in the same state, his gait
desponding, and his voice languid. The sight of the Russians, however,
and the noise of their continued firing, seemed again to inspire him;
he went to take a nearer view of their last position, and even wished to
drive them from it. But Murat, pointing to the scanty remains of our own
troops, declared that it would require the guard to finish; on which,
Bessieres continuing to insist, as he always did, on the importance of
this _corps d'elite_, objected "the distance the emperor was from his
reinforcements; that Europe was between him and France; that it was
indispensable to preserve, at least, that handful of soldiers, which was
all that remained to answer for his safety." And as it was then nearly
five o'clock, Berthier added, "that it was too late; that the enemy was
strengthening himself in his last position; and that it would require a
sacrifice of several more thousands, without any adequate results."
Napoleon then thought of nothing but to recommend the victors to be
prudent. Afterwards he returned, still at the same slow pace, to his
tent, that had been erected behind that battery which was carried two
days before, and in front of which he had remained ever since the
morning, an almost motionless spectator of all the vicissitudes of that
terrible day.

As he was thus returning, he called Mortier to him, and ordered him "to
make the young guard now advance, but on no account to pass the new
ravine which separated us from the enemy." He added, "that he gave him
in charge to guard the field of battle; that that was all he required of
him; that he was at liberty to do whatever he thought necessary for that
purpose, and nothing more." He recalled him shortly after to ask "if he
had properly understood him; recommended him to make no attack; but
merely to guard the field of battle." An hour afterwards he sent to him
to reiterate the order, "neither to advance nor retreat, whatever might
happen."




CHAP. XII.


After he had retired to his tent, great mental anguish was added to his
previous physical dejection. He had seen the field of battle; places had
spoken much more loudly than men; the victory which he had so eagerly
pursued, and so dearly bought, was incomplete. Was this he who had
always pushed his successes to the farthest possible limits, whom
Fortune had just found cold and inactive, at a time when she was
offering him her last favours?

The losses were certainly immense, and out of all proportion to the
advantages gained. Every one around him had to lament the loss of a
friend, a relation, or a brother; for the fate of battles had fallen on
the most distinguished. Forty-three generals had been killed or wounded.
What a mourning for Paris! what a triumph for his enemies! what a
dangerous subject for the reflections of Germany! In his army, even in
his very tent, his victory was silent, gloomy, isolated, even without
flatterers!

The persons whom he had summoned, Dumas and Daru, listened to him, and
said nothing; but their attitude, their downcast eyes, and their
silence, spoke more eloquently than words.

It was now ten o'clock. Murat, whom twelve hours' fighting had not
exhausted, again came to ask him for the cavalry of his guard. "The
enemy's army," said he, "is passing the Moskwa in haste and disorder; I
wish to surprise and extinguish it." The emperor repelled this sally of
immoderate ardour; afterwards he dictated the bulletin of the day.

He seemed pleased at announcing to Europe, that neither he nor his guard
had been at all exposed. By some this care was regarded as a refinement
of self-love; but those who were better informed thought very
differently. They had never seen him display any vain or gratuitous
passion, and their idea was, that at that distance, and at the head of
an army of foreigners, who had no other bond of union but victory, he
had judged it indispensable to preserve a select and devoted body.

His enemies, in fact, would have no longer any thing to hope from fields
of battle; neither his death, as he had no need to expose his person in
order to insure success, nor a victory, as his genius was sufficient at
a distance, even without bringing forward his reserve. As long,
therefore, as this guard remained untouched, his real power and that
which he derived from opinion would remain entire. It seemed to be a
sort of security to him, against his allies, as well as against his
enemies: on that account he took so much pains to inform Europe of the
preservation of that formidable reserve; and yet it scarcely amounted to
20,000 men, of whom more than a third were new recruits.

These were powerful motives, but they did not at all satisfy men who
knew that excellent reasons may be found for committing the greatest
faults. They all agreed, "that they had seen the battle which had been
won in the morning on the right, halt where it was favourable to us, and
continue successively in front, a contest of mere strength, as in the
infancy of the art! it was a battle without any plan, a mere victory of
soldiers, rather than of a general! Why so much precipitation to
overtake the enemy, with an army panting, exhausted, and weakened? and
when we had come up with him, why neglect to complete his discomfiture,
and remain bleeding and mutilated, in the midst of an enraged nation, in
immense deserts, and at 800 leagues' distance from our resources?"

Murat then exclaimed, "That in this great day he had not recognized the
genius of Napoleon!" The viceroy confessed "that he had no conception
what could be the reason of the indecision which his adopted father had
shown." Ney, when he was called on for his opinion, was singularly
obstinate in advising him to retreat.

Those alone who had never quitted his person, observed, that the
conqueror of so many nations had been overcome by a burning fever, and
above all by a fatal return of that painful malady which every violent
movement, and all long and strong emotions excited in him. They then
quoted the words which he himself had written in Italy fifteen years
before: "Health is indispensable in war, and nothing can replace it;"
and the exclamation, unfortunately prophetic, which he had uttered on
the plains of Austerlitz: "Ordener is worn out. One is not always fit
for war; I shall be good for six years longer, after which I must lie
by."

During the night, the Russians made us sensible of their vicinity, by
their unseasonable clamours. Next morning there was an alert, close to
the emperor's tent. The old guard was actually obliged to run to arms; a
circumstance which, after a victory, seemed insulting. The army remained
motionless until noon, or rather it might be said that there was no
longer an army, but a single vanguard. The rest of the troops were
dispersed over the field of battle to carry off the wounded, of whom
there were 20,000. They were taken to the great abbey of Kolotskoi, two
leagues in the rear.

Larrey, the surgeon-in-chief, had just taken assistants from all the
regiments; the _ambulances_ had rejoined, but all was insufficient. He
has since complained, in a printed narrative, that no troop had been
left him to procure the most necessary articles in the surrounding
villages.

The emperor then rode over the field of battle; never did one present so
horrible an appearance. Every thing concurred to make it so; a gloomy
sky, a cold rain, a violent wind, houses burnt to ashes, a plain turned
topsy-turvy, covered with ruins and rubbish, in the distance the sad and
sombre verdure of the trees of the North; soldiers roaming about in all
directions, and hunting for provisions, even in the haversacks of their
dead companions; horrible wounds, for the Russian musket-balls are
larger than ours; silent bivouacs, no singing or story-telling--a gloomy
taciturnity.

Round the eagles were seen the remaining officers and subalterns, and a
few soldiers, scarcely enough to protect the colours. Their clothes had
been torn in the fury of the combat, were blackened with powder, and
spotted with blood; and yet, in the midst of their rags, their misery,
and disasters, they had a proud look, and at the sight of the emperor,
uttered some shouts of triumph, but they were rare and excited; for in
this army, capable at once of analysis and enthusiasm, every one was
sensible of the position of all.

French soldiers are not easily deceived; they were astonished to find so
many of the enemy killed, so great a number wounded, and so few
prisoners, there being not 800 of the latter. By the number of these,
the extent of a victory had been formerly calculated. The dead bodies
were rather a proof of the courage of the vanquished, than the evidence
of a victory. If the rest retreated in such good order, proud, and so
little discouraged, what signified the gain of a field of battle? In
such extensive countries, would there ever be any want of ground for the
Russians to fight on?

As for us, we had already too much, and a great deal more than we were
able to retain. Could that be called conquering it? The long and
straight furrow which we had traced with so much difficulty from Kowno,
across sands and ashes, would it not close behind us, like that of a
vessel on an immense ocean! A few peasants, badly armed, might easily
efface all traces of it.

In fact they were about to carry off, in the rear of the army, our
wounded and our marauders. Five hundred stragglers soon fell into their
hands. It is true that some French soldiers, arrested in this manner,
affected to join these cossacks; they assisted them in making fresh
captures, until finding themselves sufficiently numerous, with their new
prisoners, they collected together suddenly and rid themselves of their
unsuspecting enemies.

The emperor could not value his victory otherwise than by the dead. The
ground was strewed to such a degree with Frenchmen, extended prostrate
on the redoubts, that they appeared to belong more to them than to those
who remained standing. There seemed to be more victors killed there,
than there were still living.

Amidst the crowd of corses which we were obliged to march over in
following Napoleon, the foot of a horse encountered a wounded man, and
extorted from him a last sign of life or of suffering. The emperor,
hitherto equally silent with his victory, and whose heart felt
oppressed by the sight of so many victims, gave an exclamation; he felt
relieved by uttering cries of indignation, and lavishing the attentions
of humanity on this unfortunate creature. To pacify him, somebody
remarked that it was only a Russian, but he retorted warmly, "that after
victory there are no enemies, but only men!" He then dispersed the
officers of his suite, in order to succour the wounded, who were heard
groaning in every direction.

Great numbers were found at the bottom of the ravines, into which the
greater part of our men had been precipitated, and where many had
dragged themselves, in order to be better protected from the enemy, and
the violence of the storm. Some groaningly pronounced the name of their
country or their mother; these were the youngest: the elder ones waited
the approach of death, some with a tranquil, and others with a sardonic
air, without deigning to implore for mercy or to complain; others
besought us to kill them outright: these unfortunate men were quickly
passed by, having neither the useless pity to assist them, nor the cruel
pity to put an end to their sufferings.

One of these, the most mutilated (one arm and his trunk being all that
remained to him) appeared so animated, so full of hope, and even of
gaiety, that an attempt was made to save him. In bearing him along, it
was remarked that he complained of suffering in the limbs, which he no
longer possessed; this is a common case with mutilated persons, and
seems to afford additional evidence that the soul remains entire, and
that feeling belongs to it alone, and not to the body, which can no more
feel than it can think.

The Russians were seen dragging themselves along to places where dead
bodies were heaped together, and offered them a horrible retreat. It has
been affirmed by several persons, that one of these poor fellows lived
for several days in the carcase of a horse, which had been gutted by a
shell, and the inside of which he gnawed. Some were seen straightening
their broken leg by tying a branch of a tree tightly against it, then
supporting themselves with another branch, and walking in this manner to
the next village. Not one of them uttered a groan.

Perhaps, when far from their own homes, they looked less for compassion.
But certainly they appeared to support pain with greater fortitude than
the French; not that they suffered more courageously, but that they
suffered less; for they have less feeling in body and mind, which arises
from their being less civilized, and from their organs being hardened by
the climate.

During this melancholy review, the emperor in vain sought to console
himself with a cheering illusion, by having a second enumeration made of
the few prisoners who remained, and collecting together some dismounted
cannon: from seven to eight hundred prisoners, and twenty broken cannon,
were all the trophies of this imperfect victory.




CHAP. XIII.


At the same time, Murat kept pushing the Russian rear-guard as far as
Mojaisk: the road which it uncovered on its retreat was perfectly clear,
and without a single fragment of men, carriages, or dress. All their
dead had been buried, for they have a religious respect for the dead.

At the sight of Mojaisk, Murat fancied himself already in possession of
it, and sent to inform the emperor that he might sleep there. But the
Russian rear-guard had taken a position outside the walls of the town,
and the remains of their army were placed on a height behind it. In this
way they covered the Moscow and the Kalouga roads.

Perhaps Kutusof hesitated which of these two roads to take, or was
desirous of leaving us in uncertainty as to the one he had taken, which
was the case. Besides, the Russians felt it a point of honour to bivouac
at only four leagues from the scene of our victory. That also allowed
them time to disencumber the road behind them and clear away their
fragments.

Their attitude was equally firm and imposing as before the battle, which
we could not help admiring; but something of this was also attributable
to the length of time we had taken to quit the field of Borodino, and to
a deep ravine which was between them and our cavalry. Murat did not
perceive this obstacle, but General Dery, one of his officers, guessed
it. He went and reconnoitred the ground, close to the gates of the town,
under the Russian bayonets.

But the king of Naples, quite as fiery as at the beginning of the
campaign, or of his military life, made nothing of the obstacle; he
summoned his cavalry, called to them furiously to advance, to charge and
break through these battalions, gates, and walls! In vain his
aid-de-camp urged the impossibility of effecting his orders; he pointed
out to him the army on the opposite heights, which commanded Mojaisk,
and the ravine where the remains of our cavalry were about to be
swallowed up. Murat, in greater fury than ever, insisted "that they must
march, and if there was any obstacle, they would see it." He then made
use of insulting phrases to urge them on, and his orders were about to
be carried,--with some delay, nevertheless, for there was generally an
understanding to retard their execution, in order to give him time to
reflect, and to allow time for a counter-order, which had been
anticipated to arrive before any misfortune happened, which was not
always the case, but was so this time. Murat was satisfied with wasting
his cannon and powder on some drunken and straggling cossacks by whom he
was almost surrounded, and who attacked him with frightful howls.

This skirmish, however, was sufficiently serious to add to the losses of
the preceding day, as general Belliard was wounded in it. This officer,
who was a great loss to Murat, was employed in reconnoitring the left of
the enemy's position. As it was approachable, the attack should have
been made on that side, but Murat never thought of any thing but
striking what was immediately before him.

The emperor only arrived on the field of battle at nightfall, escorted
by a very feeble detachment. He advanced towards Mojaisk, at a still
slower pace than the day before, and so completely absent, that he
neither seemed to hear the noise of the engagement, nor that of the
bullets which were whistling around him.

Some one stopped him, and pointed out to him the enemy's rear-guard
between him and the town; and on the heights behind, the fires of an
army of 50,000 men. This sight was a proof of the incompleteness of his
victory, and how little the enemy were discouraged; but he seemed quite
insensible of it; he listened to the reports with a dejected and
listless air, and returned to sleep at a village some little distance
off, which was within reach of the enemy's fire.

The Russian autumn had triumphed over him: had it not been for that,
perhaps the whole of Russia would have yielded to our arms on the plains
of the Moskwa: its premature inclemency was a most seasonable assistance
to their empire. It was on the 6th of September, the very day before the
great battle! that a hurricane announced its fatal commencement. It
struck Napoleon. Ever since the night of that day, it has been seen that
a wearying fever had dried up his blood, and oppressed his spirits, and
that he was quite overcome by it during the battle; the suffering he
endured from this, added to another still more severe, for the five
following days arrested his march, and bound up his genius. This it was
which preserved Kutusof from total ruin at Borodino, and allowed him
time to rally the remainder of his army, and withdraw it from our
pursuit.

On the 9th of September we found Mojaisk uncovered, and still standing:
but beyond it the enemy's rear-guard on the heights which command it,
and which their army had occupied the day before. Some of our troops
entered the town for the purpose of passing through it in pursuit of the
enemy, and others to plunder and find lodgings for themselves. They
found neither inhabitants nor provisions, but merely dead bodies, which
they were obliged to throw out of the windows, in order to get
themselves under cover, and a number of dying soldiers, who were all
collected into one spot. These last were so numerous, and had been so
scattered about, that the Russians had not dared to set fire to the
habitations; but their humanity, which was not always so scrupulous, had
given way to the desire of firing on the first French they saw enter,
which they did with shells: the consequence was, that this wooden town
was soon set fire to, and a part of the unfortunate wounded whom they
had abandoned were consumed in the flames.

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