Chapter I: Napoleon (5)

“It was decided to entrust the salvage of the Imperial treasure to the escort. As there was about five million francs, principally in silver écus, they had to distribute them at random among the soldiers. Many, seeing that they could not possibly keep up with us, made free with what had been entrusted to them. The flags which had been taken from the enemy, and which had no further interest for the troops, were shamefully thrown away at the bottom of the hill, as well as the famous cross of Ivan the Great—a trophy which we had set our hearts upon carrying away! The Russians, who are generally regarded as barbarians, subsequently afforded a most noble example of moderation such as is rarely displayed after victory.

“New-comers kept increasing the number of the plunderers, and it was indeed an edifying spectacle to see these men dying of hunger, and at the same time loaded with such quantities of treasure that they could move only with difficulty. On every side lay open trunks and broken chests. Gorgeous gold-embroidered court dresses and rich furs were donned by persons of the most repulsive exterior. Sixty francs were offered for a Napoleon d’or, and ten crowns was the price of a glass of brandy. One of the Grenadiers in my presence offered a cask of silver coin for sale; it was finally bought by one of the principal officers, who took it away in his sledge.

“All the soldiers, turned second-hand dealers, were selling their plunder to those who had looted the treasure-chests. Their conversation turned exclusively on bullion and jewellery; every one had plenty of silver, and no one a rifle. Is it surprising that the mere appearance of the Cossacks was enough to inspire the fugitives with terror? Nor were they long in coming upon the scene.” An eye-witness tells us that on this occasion the lust for gold abolished all distinction between the bold and the timorous, between friend and foe, and that the Cossacks set to plundering side by side with the French!

At this point the most terrible frosts overtook the fugitives. Even the discipline of the Guards was destroyed; and when the drum summoned them to march, this brave army of tried veterans, the last hope of the army, refused to leave the camp-fires and fall in. Reproaches, entreaties, and menaces sufficed to persuade some; others did not stir—they were frost-bitten, for even the fires were not enough to save them from the cold.

Even for so high an officer as Murat the Grenadiers refused to fetch firewood or snow for water, lest, as they expressed it, they should be “nipped on the way.”

On one occasion the whole of the 4th Army Corps refused to move, and it was only by the most vigorous persuasion that the Duke of Neufchâtel induced them to stir out of the room,—for one roomful constituted the whole of this corps of the Grande Armée!

As for the rear-guard, it was no longer in existence. The result of the campaign was the complete annihilation of an army of nearly half a million men. The whole of the artillery, consisting of 1200 guns and caissons, fell into the hands of the enemy, together with many thousands of wagons and officers’ carriages, and an enormous quantity of warlike stores and provisions. According to official accounts, 253,000 bodies were burnt in the provinces of Moscow, Vitebsk, and Mohilef, and 53,000 in Vilna and its immediate neighbourhood. More than 100,000 men were taken prisoners. Within historical memory, from the time of Cambyses to the present day, there is no parallel to such a disaster affecting so great a host.

To return once more to Napoleon—it should be said that after the passage of the Beresina he had but one thought—how best to return to France, collect a fresh army, and if he could not induce his allies to keep faith with him, at any rate prevent them from immediately joining forces against him. His intention of leaving the army and proceeding direct to Paris was kept a profound secret, although some of those nearest to him knew, and for the most part approved, the plan. They saw, in fact, no hope of rescue except in the organization of a new army of half a million men.

For some time previous to the Emperor’s departure from the army he, too, suffered extreme discomfort and even privation. The soldiers occupied filthy, foul-smelling huts close to his head-quarters, and it was necessary to use force to repel them. The bread baked for Napoleon at this time consisted of black rye loaves; the meal was badly ground, the dough had hardly risen, in addition to which it had a disagreeable musty smell.

In the little town of Zanifka the head-quarters were established in a small, two-roomed hut. The back room was occupied by Napoleon, the front apartment by his suite, who disposed themselves for sleep packed side by side so closely that the Emperor’s valet could not avoid treading on their legs and arms. At Smorgoni the Emperor was stationed at head-quarters for the last time. He there made his final arrangements, and wrote his last bulletin, No. XXIX., filled, as usual, with half-truths and glaring falsehoods. In this bulletin he attributed his disasters to fortuitous circumstances, explaining that they might soon be repaired by vigorous action.

“More than 30,000 horses,” he says, “fell within a few days. Our cavalry had no mounts, our artillery and transport had no beasts of draught. We had to abandon or destroy a large number of our guns with their appurtenances. The enemy, coming upon these traces of the French army, were encouraged to surround our columns with Cossacks, who cut off all straggling baggage and wagons like Arabs in the desert. This wretched (_méprisable_) cavalry, whose strength lies in noise alone, and which could not seriously attack a company of riflemen, was rendered formidable by circumstances. However, we caused the enemy to regret every serious attempt they made against us.”... “Horses and necessaries of every sort,” he continues, “are beginning to pour in. General Boursier has more than 20,000 horses in various depôts. The artillery has already repaired all its losses.”

Every precaution was taken to prevent any knowledge of Napoleon’s intention of leaving the army from leaking out until the last moment. But the presentiment of the coming disaster was in the minds of every member of his suite—every one wished to accompany him and escape from this living hell as quickly as possible.

“In the evening the chief officers of the army were summoned together,” says Ségur. “The marshals appeared. As they entered Napoleon took each of them aside and revealed his project, sparing neither arguments nor expressions of confidence and affection.

“When he caught sight of Davout he went to meet him, and asked whether he was vexed with him. Why did he not see more of him? To the Marshal’s reply that he seemed to have fallen under his displeasure, Napoleon, accepting all his explanations, expounded in detail his intention of departing, and indicated the direction of his route. He was genial and affectionate to all. At table he praised all for their admirable conduct in the course of the campaign. ‘As for himself,’ he said, ‘it would have been easier, no doubt, to avoid mistakes, had I been a Bourbon.’

“When dinner was over Napoleon told Prince Eugène to read out Despatch XXIX., and explained publicly what he had before spoken of in confidence. That night he would leave with Duroc, Caulaincourt, and Lobau for Paris, where his presence was essential both for France and for the remains of the army. Only from Paris could he keep his thumb on the Austrians and Prussians, who would no doubt hesitate to declare war against him if they saw that he was once more at the head of the French nation, and an army of a million soldiers!

“He stated that he was handing over the chief command to the King of Naples. ‘I hope,’ he added, ‘that you will obey him as myself, and that there will be no differences among you.’”

Nobody, of course, raised any opposition. Marshal Berthier, without endeavouring to dissuade Napoleon, merely announced that he must be included in the number of those who were going. This request drew upon him a very severe rebuke. Napoleon loaded him with reproaches for preferring such a claim; reminded him of all the kindnesses and benefits he had received at his hands, and finally called upon him to change his mind and submit, or return at once to his estate in France and await the announcement of his punishment for rebelling against the will of the Emperor.

At ten o’clock that evening he shook hands with them, kissed them all in turn, and issued at the front door between two lines formed by the officers of his suite, smiling pitiful forced smiles to the right and left.

Napoleon and Caulaincourt got into a covered sledge, on the box of which sat Roustan, the Mameluke, and a Polish officer, who was to be his driver. Duroc and Lobau followed in open sledges.

As soon as the news of the Emperor’s departure spread through the army, the last traces of discipline disappeared. Groups of armed soldiers had till now been gathered round the colours; but even they dispersed at last, hiding the eagles in their valises. Napoleon alone was able to maintain any semblance of order; with his disappearance, Murat and the other officers lost all authority.

“An hour after the Emperor’s departure,” says an eye-witness, “one of the senior officers turned to another with the words, ‘Well, has the ruffian gone?’

“‘Yes,’ replied the other; ‘he has played us the same trick as in Egypt.’”

Napoleon, after barely escaping capture at the hands of the free-lance Seslavin’s Cossacks, and that only by the most remarkable good fortune, arrived at Warsaw. When he had somewhat recovered from the fatigues of his journey, he gave the following explanation of the disastrous issue of the campaign—“When I left Paris it was my intention,” he said, “to carry the war no further than the former confines of Poland. Circumstances drew me on. Perhaps I was guilty of an error in going so far as Moscow, perhaps I was wrong in staying there so long as I did; but from the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step, and posterity shall be my judge! My French soldiers,” he added, “are worthless in the frost, the cold turns them into mere dummies.”

“During the retreat I had no cavalry, and I must admit that when the Cossacks attacked my column I found myself in a dilemma. It was impossible to mass the army together, for that would have retarded the retreat; it was equally impossible to deploy it, for the Cossacks would have broken through our line. We were obliged to continue our retreat, to fill up the gaps, and deceive the enemy. I confess that I needed all my skill and experience to escape.”

He did indeed escape, but with this campaign began the decline of his power.

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Footnote 4:

There seems to be no doubt about the incident in question. But though
it would appear that the French plundered the houses in Viazma,
Napoleon writes in Bulletin XVI.—“The Cossacks pillaged Viazma so
completely before their departure that the inhabitants do not think
there is much chance of the town ever renewing its allegiance to
Russia.”

Footnote 5:

It is stated that for a long time there was only one sapper attached
to Dorogomilovsky’s detachment.

Footnote 6:

To be more accurate, it appears that the Russians had already begun to
retire in the night.

Footnote 7:

The state of Napoleon’s temper and the keenness with which he felt his
position were reflected in his treatment of his servants. “His trusty
henchman, Roustan,” says Soltyk, “who happened one day to put
Napoleon’s left boot on his right foot, found himself stretched on the
broad of his back by a vigorous kick.”

Footnote 8:

The battle would certainly have ended in the capture of the whole of
Murat’s force, had not Kutuzof, who disapproved of the engagement,
refused to support Benigsen. Kutuzof was of opinion that Napoleon and
his troops should be left as long as possible undisturbed in and
around Moscow, in order that they might be tempted to stay until the
frosts began, and in this he was right; but when once he allowed an
attack on his recklessly incautious adversary, it was unpardonable not
to send the help which was demanded when the battle was at its height.
For the opportunity of escaping, though not without serious losses,
the French were entirely indebted to Kutuzof and his chief advisers
Tol and Kaissarof. Some say that General O. D. could hardly keep in
his saddle that day, and some say... all kinds of things.

Footnote 9:

It is impossible to read without a smile Thiers’ eulogy of Napoleon’s
plan—if indeed such an absurd plan could ever have existed—of
wintering with the army in _the more temperate climate_ of Kaluga; and
of keeping up communication with Smolensk, and with Moscow in the
rear. According to this project, Napoleon was to have maintained
possession of the Kremlin (?) and entrusted its defence to Marshal
Mortier and 4000 dismounted cavalry (?), who would have formed
infantry battalions. He was to have left there the more cumbrous part
of his _matériel_, together with the wounded, sick, etc., and have
provided that experienced soldier, the Marshal, with a garrison 10,000
strong, and with provisions for six months.

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