Part 12 (1/2)
In the midst of his perplexity, he occasionally addressed the persons whom he met with such half sentences as ”Well! what shall we do? Shall we stay where we are, or advance? How is it possible to stop short in the midst of so glorious a career?” He did not wait for their reply; but still kept wandering about, as if he was looking for something or somebody to terminate his indecision.
At length, quite overwhelmed with the weight of such an important consideration, and oppressed with so great an uncertainty, he would throw himself on one of the beds which he had caused to be laid on the floor of his apartments. His frame, exhausted by the heat, and the struggles of his mind, could only bear a covering of the slightest texture; it was in that state that he pa.s.sed a portion of his days at Witepsk.
But when his body was at rest, his spirit was only the more active. ”How many motives urged him towards Moscow! How support at Witepsk the _ennui_ of seven winter months?--he, who till then had always been the a.s.sailant, was about to be reduced to a defensive position; a part unworthy of him, of which he had no experience, and adverse to his genius.
”Moreover, at Witepsk, nothing had been decided, and yet, at what a distance was he already from France! Europe, then, would at length behold him stopped, whom nothing had been able to stop. Would not the duration of the enterprise augment its danger? Ought he to allow Russia time to arm herself entirely? How long could he protract this uncertain condition without impairing the charm of his infallibility, (which the resistance of Spain had already enfeebled) and without engendering dangerous hopes in Europe? What would be thought, if it were known that a third of his army, dispersed or sick, were no longer in the ranks? It was indispensable, therefore, to dazzle the world speedily by the eclat of a great victory, and hide so many sacrifices under a heap of laurels.”
Then, if he remained at Witepsk, he considered that he should have the _ennui_, the whole expense, all the inconveniences and anxieties of a defensive position to bear; while at Moscow there would be peace, abundance, a reimburs.e.m.e.nt of the expenses of the war, and immortal glory. He persuaded himself that audacity for him was henceforth the greatest prudence; that it is the same with all hazardous undertakings, as with faults, in which there is always risk at the beginning, but frequently gain at the conclusion; that the more inexcusable they are, the more they require to be successful. That it was indispensable, therefore, to consummate this undertaking, to push it to the utmost, astonish the universe, beat down Alexander by his audacity, and carry off a prize which should be a compensation for so many losses.
Thus it was, that the same danger which perhaps ought to have recalled him to the Niemen, or kept him stationary on the Duna, urged him towards Moscow! Such is the nature of false positions; every thing in them is perilous; temerity is prudence; there is no choice left but of errors; there is no hope but in the errors of the enemy, and in chance.
Having at last determined, he hastily arose, as if not to allow time to his own reflections to renew so painful a state of uncertainty; and already quite full of the plan which was to secure his conquest, he hastened to his maps; they presented to his view the cities of Smolensk and Moscow; ”the great Moscow, the holy city;” names which he repeated with complacency, and which served to add new fuel to his ambitious flame. Fired with this prospect, his spirit, replete with the energy of his mighty conception, appears possessed by the genius of war. His voice deepens; his eye flashes fire; and his countenance darkens; his attendants retreat from his presence, struck with mingled awe and respect; but at length his plan is fixed; his determination taken; his order of march traced out. Instantly, the internal struggle by which he had been agitated subsided; and no sooner was he delivered of his terrible conception, than his countenance resumed its usual mild and tranquil character.
CHAP. II.
His resolution once taken, he was anxious that it should satisfy his friends; he conceived that by persuading them, they would be actuated by greater zeal, than by commanding their obedience. It was, moreover, by their sentiments that he was enabled to judge of those of the rest of his army; in short, like all other men, the silent discontent of his household disturbed him. Surrounded by disapproving countenances, and opinions contrary to his own, he felt himself uncomfortable. And, besides, to obtain their a.s.sent to his plan, was in some degree to make them share the responsibility which possibly weighed upon his mind.
But all the officers of his household opposed his plan, each in the way that marked his peculiar character; Berthier, by a melancholy countenance, by lamentations, and even tears; Lobau and Caulaincourt, by a frankness, which in the first was stamped by a cold and haughty roughness, excusable in so brave a warrior; and which in the second was persevering even to obstinacy, and impetuous even to violence. The emperor repelled their observations with some ill-humour; he exclaimed, addressing himself more especially to his aid-de-camp, as well as to Berthier, ”that he had enriched his generals too much; that all they now aspired to was to follow the pleasures of the chase, and to display their brilliant equipages in Paris: and that, doubtless, they had become disgusted with war.” When their honour was thus attacked, there was no longer any reply to be made; they merely bowed and remained silent.
During one of his impatient fits, he told one of the generals of his guard, ”you were born in a _bivouac_, and in a _bivouac_ you will die.”
As to Duroc, he first signified his disapprobation by a chilling silence, and afterwards by terse replies, reference to accurate reports, and brief remarks. To him the emperor replied, ”that he saw clearly enough that the Russians wanted to draw him on; but that, nevertheless, he must proceed as far as Smolensk; that there he would establish his head-quarters; and that in the spring of 1813, if Russia did not previously make peace, she would be ruined; that Smolensk was the key of the two roads to Petersburgh and Moscow; that he must get possession of it; and that he would then be able to march on both those capitals at the same time, in order to destroy every thing in the one, and preserve every thing in the other.”
Here the grand marshal observed to him, that he was not more likely to make peace at Smolensk, or even at Moscow, than he was at Witepsk; and that in removing to such a distance from France, the Prussians const.i.tuted an intermediate body, on whom little reliance could be placed. But the emperor replied, that on that supposition, as the Russian war no longer offered him any advantageous result, he ought to renounce it; and if so, he must turn his arms against Prussia, and compel her to pay the expenses of the war.
It was now Daru's turn. This minister is straightforward even to stiffness, and possesses immoveable firmness. The great question of the march upon Moscow produced a discussion which lasted during eight successive hours, and at which only Berthier was present. The emperor having desired his minister's opinion of the war, ”It is not a national war,” replied Daru; ”the introduction of some English merchandize into Russia, and even the restoration of the kingdom of Poland, are not sufficient reasons for engaging in so distant a war; neither your troops nor ourselves understand its necessity or its objects, and to say the least, all things recommend the policy of stopping where we now are.”
The emperor rejoined, ”Did they take him for a madman? Did they imagine he made war from inclination? Had they not heard him say that the wars of Spain and Russia were two ulcers which ate into the vitals of France, and that she could not bear them both at once?
”He was anxious for peace; but in order to negotiate, two persons were necessary, and he was only one. Had a single letter from Alexander yet reached him?
”What, then, should he wait for at Witepsk? Two rivers, it was true, traced out the line of position; but, during the winter, there were no longer any rivers in this country. It was, therefore, a visionary line which they traced out; it was rather a line of demarcation than of separation. It was requisite, therefore, to const.i.tute an artificial line; to construct towns and fortresses capable of defying the elements, and every species of scourge; to create every thing, land and atmosphere; for every thing was deficient, even provisions, unless, indeed, he chose to drain Lithuania, and render her hostile, or ruin ourselves; that if they were at Moscow, they might take what they pleased; here it was necessary to purchase every thing. Consequently,”
continued he, ”you cannot enable me to live at Witepsk, nor shall I be able to defend you here: both of us, therefore, are here out of our proper element.
”That if he returned to Wilna, he might there indeed, be more easily supplied, but that he should not be in a better condition to defend himself; that in that case it would be necessary for him to fall back to the Vistula, and lose Lithuania. Whereas at Smolensk, he would be sure to gain either a decisive battle, or at least, a fortress and a position on the Dnieper.
”That he perceived clearly that their thoughts were dwelling on Charles the Twelfth; but that if the expedition to Moscow wanted a fortunate precedent, it was because it was deficient in a man capable of making it succeed; that in war, fortune went for one-half in every thing; that if people always waited for a complete a.s.semblage of favourable circ.u.mstances, nothing would ever be undertaken; that we must begin, in order to finish; that there was no enterprise in which every thing concurred, and that, in all human projects, chance had its share; that, in short, it was not the rule which created the success, but the success the rule; and that, if he succeeded by new means, that success would create new principles.
”Blood has not yet been spilled,” he added, ”and Russia is too great to yield without fighting. Alexander can only negotiate after a great battle. If it is necessary, I will even proceed to the holy city in search of that battle, and I will gain it. Peace waits for me at the gates of Moscow. But with his honour thus saved, if Alexander still persists, I will negotiate with the Boyards, or even with the population of that capital; it is numerous, united, and consequently enlightened.
It will understand its own interests, and comprehend the value of liberty.” He concluded by saying, that ”Moscow hated Petersburgh; that he would take advantage of their rivalry; that the results of such a jealousy were incalculable.”
It was in this manner that the emperor, when animated by conversation and the banquet, revealed the nature of his hopes. Daru replied, ”That war was a game which he played well, in which he was always the winner, and that it was natural to infer, that he took a pleasure in playing it.
But that, in this case, it was not so much men as nature which it was necessary to conquer; that already the army was diminished one-third by desertion, sickness, or famine.
”If provisions failed at Witepsk, what would be the case farther on? The officers whom he had sent to procure them, either never re-appeared, or returned with empty hands. That the small quant.i.ty of flour, or the few cattle which they had succeeded in collecting, were immediately consumed by the imperial guard; that the other divisions of the army were heard to murmur, that it exacted and absorbed every thing, that it const.i.tuted, as it were, a privileged cla.s.s. The hospital and provision-waggons, as well as the droves of cattle, were not able to come up. The hospitals were insufficient for the sick; provisions, room, and medicines, were all wanting in them.
”All things consequently admonished them to halt, and with so much the more effect, as they could not calculate on the favourable disposition of the inhabitants beyond Witepsk. In conformity with his secret orders, they had been sounded, but without effect. How could men be roused to insurrection, for the sake of a liberty whose very name they did not understand? What influence could be obtained over a people almost savages, without property, and without wants? What could be taken from them? With what could they be tempted? Their only property was their life, which they carried with them into regions of almost infinite s.p.a.ce.”