War and Peace
position; but innumerable circumstances and the reappearance of French
troops who had for a time lost touch with the Russians, and projects
of giving battle, and above all the abundance of provisions in Kalúga
province, obliged our army to turn still more to the south and to cross
from the Túla to the Kalúga road and go to Tarútino, which was between
the roads along which those supplies lay. Just as it is impossible to
say when it was decided to abandon Moscow, so it is impossible to say
precisely when, or by whom, it was decided to move to Tarútino. Only
when the army had got there, as the result of innumerable and varying
forces, did people begin to assure themselves that they had desired this
movement and long ago foreseen its result.
CHAPTER II
The famous flank movement merely consisted in this: after the advance
of the French had ceased, the Russian army, which had been continually
retreating straight back from the invaders, deviated from that direct
course and, not finding itself pursued, was naturally drawn toward the
district where supplies were abundant.
If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading the
Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could not
have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, describing
an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be found and where
the country was richest.
That movement from the Nízhni to the Ryazán, Túla, and Kalúga roads was
so natural that even the Russian marauders moved in that direction, and
demands were sent from Petersburg for Kutúzov to take his army that
way. At Tarútino Kutúzov received what was almost a reprimand from
the Emperor for having moved his army along the Ryazán road, and the
Emperor’s letter indicated to him the very position he had already
occupied near Kalúga.
Having rolled like a ball in the direction of the impetus given by the
whole campaign and by the battle of Borodinó, the Russian army—when
the strength of that impetus was exhausted and no fresh push was
received—assumed the position natural to it.
Kutúzov’s merit lay, not in any strategic maneuver of genius, as it is
called, but in the fact that he alone understood the significance of
what had happened. He alone then understood the meaning of the French
army’s inactivity, he alone continued to assert that the battle of
Borodinó had been a victory, he alone—who as commander in chief might
have been expected to be eager to attack—employed his whole strength to
restrain the Russian army from useless engagements.
The beast wounded at Borodinó was lying where the fleeing hunter had
left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and
merely lying low, the hunter did not know. Suddenly the beast was heard
to moan.
The moan of that wounded beast (the French army) which betrayed its
calamitous condition was the sending of Lauriston to Kutúzov’s camp with
overtures for peace.
Napoleon, with his usual assurance that whatever entered his head was
right, wrote to Kutúzov the first words that occurred to him, though
they were meaningless.
MONSIEUR LE PRINCE KOUTOUZOV: I am sending one of my adjutants-general
to discuss several interesting questions with you. I beg your Highness
to credit what he says to you, especially when he expresses the
sentiment of esteem and special regard I have long entertained for your
person. This letter having no other object, I pray God, monsieur le
prince Koutouzov, to keep you in His holy and gracious protection!
NAPOLEON
MOSCOW, OCTOBER 30, 1812
Kutúzov replied: “I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on as
the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present spirit
of my nation.” But he continued to exert all his powers to restrain his
troops from attacking.
During the month that the French troops were pillaging in Moscow and
the Russian troops were quietly encamped at Tarútino, a change had taken
place in the relative strength of the two armies—both in spirit and in
number—as a result of which the superiority had passed to the Russian
side. Though the condition and numbers of the French army were unknown
to the Russians, as soon as that change occurred the need of attacking
at once showed itself by countless signs. These signs were: Lauriston’s
mission; the abundance of provisions at Tarútino; the reports coming in
from all sides of the inactivity and disorder of the French; the flow of
recruits to our regiments; the fine weather; the long rest the Russian
soldiers had enjoyed, and the impatience to do what they had been
assembled for, which usually shows itself in an army that has been
resting; curiosity as to what the French army, so long lost sight of,
was doing; the boldness with which our outposts now scouted close up to
the French stationed at Tarútino; the news of easy successes gained by
peasants and guerrilla troops over the French, the envy aroused by this;
the desire for revenge that lay in the heart of every Russian as long as
the French were in Moscow, and (above all) a dim consciousness in every
soldier’s mind that the relative strength of the armies had changed and
that the advantage was now on our side. There was a substantial change
in the relative strength, and an advance had become inevitable. And at
once, as a clock begins to strike and chime as soon as the minute hand
has completed a full circle, this change was shown by an increased
activity, whirring, and chiming in the higher spheres.
CHAPTER III
The Russian army was commanded by Kutúzov and his staff, and also by the
Emperor from Petersburg. Before the news of the abandonment of Moscow
had been received in Petersburg, a detailed plan of the whole campaign
had been drawn up and sent to Kutúzov for his guidance. Though this plan
had been drawn up on the supposition that Moscow was still in our hands,
it was approved by the staff and accepted as a basis for action.
Kutúzov only replied that movements arranged from a distance were always
difficult to execute. So fresh instructions were sent for the solution
of difficulties that might be encountered, as well as fresh people who
were to watch Kutúzov’s actions and report upon them.
Besides this, the whole staff of the Russian army was now reorganized.
The posts left vacant by Bagratión, who had been killed, and by
Barclay, who had gone away in dudgeon, had to be filled. Very serious
consideration was given to the question whether it would be better to
put A in B’s place and B in D’s, or on the contrary to put D in A’s
place, and so on—as if anything more than A’s or B’s satisfaction
depended on this.
As a result of the hostility between Kutúzov and Bennigsen, his Chief of
Staff, the presence of confidential representatives of the Emperor, and
these transfers, a more than usually complicated play of parties
was going on among the staff of the army. A was undermining B, D was
undermining C, and so on in all possible combinations and permutations.
In all these plottings the subject of intrigue was generally the conduct
of the war, which all these men believed they were directing; but this
affair of the war went on independently of them, as it had to go:
that is, never in the way people devised, but flowing always from the
essential attitude of the masses. Only in the highest spheres did
all these schemes, crossings, and interminglings appear to be a true
reflection of what had to happen.
Prince Michael Ilariónovich! (wrote the Emperor on the second of October
in a letter that reached Kutúzov after the battle at Tarútino) Since
September 2 Moscow has been in the hands of the enemy. Your last reports
were written on the twentieth, and during all this time not only has
no action been taken against the enemy or for the relief of the ancient
capital, but according to your last report you have even retreated
farther. Sérpukhov is already occupied by an enemy detachment and Túla
with its famous arsenal, so indispensable to the army, is in danger.
From General Wintzingerode’s reports, I see that an enemy corps of ten
thousand men is moving on the Petersburg road. Another corps of several
thousand men is moving on Dmítrov. A third has advanced along the
Vladímir road, and a fourth, rather considerable detachment is stationed
between Rúza and Mozháysk. Napoleon himself was in Moscow as late as
the twenty-fifth. In view of all this information, when the enemy has
scattered his forces in large detachments, and with Napoleon and his
Guards in Moscow, is it possible that the enemy’s forces confronting you
are so considerable as not to allow of your taking the offensive? On the
contrary, he is probably pursuing you with detachments, or at most with
an army corps much weaker than the army entrusted to you. It would seem
that, availing yourself of these circumstances, you might advantageously
attack a weaker one and annihilate him, or at least oblige him to
retreat, retaining in our hands an important part of the provinces now
occupied by the enemy, and thereby averting danger from Túla and other
towns in the interior. You will be responsible if the enemy is able to
direct a force of any size against Petersburg to threaten this capital
in which it has not been possible to retain many troops; for with the
army entrusted to you, and acting with resolution and energy, you have
ample means to avert this fresh calamity. Remember that you have still
to answer to our offended country for the loss of Moscow. You have
experienced my readiness to reward you. That readiness will not weaken
in me, but I and Russia have a right to expect from you all the zeal,
firmness, and success which your intellect, military talent, and the
courage of the troops you command justify us in expecting.
But by the time this letter, which proved that the real relation of
the forces had already made itself felt in Petersburg, was dispatched,
Kutúzov had found himself unable any longer to restrain the army he
commanded from attacking and a battle had taken place.
On the second of October a Cossack, Shapoválov, who was out scouting,
killed one hare and wounded another. Following the wounded hare he made
his way far into the forest and came upon the left flank of Murat’s
army, encamped there without any precautions. The Cossack laughingly
told his comrades how he had almost fallen into the hands of the French.
A cornet, hearing the story, informed his commander.
The Cossack was sent for and questioned. The Cossack officers wished
to take advantage of this chance to capture some horses, but one of
the superior officers, who was acquainted with the higher authorities,
reported the incident to a general on the staff. The state of things on
the staff had of late been exceedingly strained. Ermólov had been to
see Bennigsen a few days previously and had entreated him to use
his influence with the commander in chief to induce him to take the
offensive.
“If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you are
asking for. I need only advise anything and his Highness is sure to do
the opposite,” replied Bennigsen.
The Cossack’s report, confirmed by horse patrols who were sent out, was
the final proof that events had matured. The tightly coiled spring was
released, the clock began to whirr and the chimes to play. Despite all
his supposed power, his intellect, his experience, and his knowledge
of men, Kutúzov—having taken into consideration the Cossack’s report, a
note from Bennigsen who sent personal reports to the Emperor, the wishes
he supposed the Emperor to hold, and the fact that all the generals
expressed the same wish—could no longer check the inevitable movement,
and gave the order to do what he regarded as useless and harmful—gave
his approval, that is, to the accomplished fact.
CHAPTER IV