by Jakob Walter
Finally, while cannon balls kept on raining out of the city, we stormed it. With the help of heavy cannon, most of the supporting piers on the high old city wall, on which the Russians were defending themselves from the inside, were partially destroyed. We broke through the gates, pressed from all sides against the city, and put the enemy to flight. When I entered the city, we went toward the cloisters and churches. I also hurried into the great church which stood to the right in the city on a hill facing the valley. I did not meet any of the enemy within, however. Only priests (“Bopen”3) were there praying. They had on long black cowls, ragged hose, and old slippers. The church was large and on the inside built round. It had many holy images and altars as ours do. The only difference was that there was no holy water. The church had five towers, one on each corner and one in the middle of the roof. On every tower were triple iron crosses, and from each cross went intervening chains from one tower to another; this created a beautiful appearance from without.
After the Russians had been stormed from the two suburbs, from which one road on the left leads to St. Petersburg and another on the right to Moscow, and after the wooden houses there lay in ruins, we resorted in the evening to the former camping ground. Here one saw the wounded men brought together to be operated on in a brick kiln which lay on the heights above the city. Many arms and legs were amputated and bandaged. It all looked just like a slaughter house. In the city itself over half of the buildings were burned; these included, especially in the upper part of the city, many large, massive houses which were burned out on the inside. Many roofs of sheet copper were rolled up and lay about. In one building west of the city I saw the lower story filled with paper, and on top it was burned black; probably all the official documents had been hurried to that place.
On August 19, the entire army moved forward, and pursued the Russians with all speed. Four or five hours’ farther up the river another battle started, but the enemy did not hold out long, and the march now led to Moshaisk, the so-called “Holy Valley.” From Smolensk to Moshaisk the war displayed its horrible work of destruction: all the roads, fields, and woods lay as though sown with people, horses, wagons, burned villages and cities; everything looked like the complete ruin of all that lived. In particular, we saw ten dead Russians to one of our men, although every day our numbers fell off considerably. In order to pass through woods, swamps, and narrow trails, trees which formed barriers in the woods had to be removed, and wagon barricades of the enemy had to be cleared away. In such numbers were the Russians lying around that it seemed as if they were all dead. The cities in the meantime were Dorogobush, Semlevo, Viasma, and Gshatsk. The march up to there, as far as it was a march, is indescribable and inconceivable for people who have not seen anything of it. The very great heat, the dust which was like a thick fog, the closed line of march in columns, and the putrid water from holes filled with dead people, and cattle brought everyone close to death; and eye pains, fatigue, thirst, and hunger tormented everybody. God! how often I remembered the bread and beer which I had enjoyed at home with such an indifferent pleasure! Now, however, I must struggle, half wild, with the dead and living. How gladly would I renounce for my whole life the warm food so common at home if I only did not lack good bread and beer now! I would not wish for more all my life. But these were empty, helpless thoughts. Yes, the thought of my brothers and sisters so far away added to my pain! Wherever I looked, I saw the soldiers with dead, half-desperate faces. Many cried out in despair, “If only my mother had not borne me!” Some demoralized men even cursed their parents and their birth.
9. A BIVOUAC NEAR LIOZNA (LIASMA), 4 AUGUST 1812. G. KÜSTNER, PRINTER. EMMINGER, LITHOGRAPHER. ANOTHER FRUITFUL FORAGING EXPEDITION.
These voices, however, raised my soul to God, and I often spoke in quietude, “God, Thou canst save me; but, if it is not Thy will, I hope that my sins will be forgiven because of my sufferings and pains and that my soul will ascend to Thee.” With such thoughts I went on trustingly to meet my fate.
On September 7, every corps was assigned its place, and the signal to attack was given.4 Like thunderbolts the firing began both against and from the enemy. The earth was trembling because of the cannon fire, and the rain of cannon balls crossed confusedly. Several entrenchments were stormed and taken with terrible sacrifices, but the enemy did not move from their place. The French Guard,5 according to order, was placed behind the attacking corps to bring about the final decision. Now the two armies moved more vigorously against one another, and the death cries and shattering gunfire seemed a hell. Nine entrenchments were stormed, the French threatened to surround the enemy from the front, and finally the enemy gave way.
This beautiful grain region without woods and villages could now be compared to a cleared forest, a few trunks here and there looking gray and white [?]. Within a space an hour and a half long and wide, the ground was covered with people and animals. There were groans and whines on all sides. The stream separated the battlefield into two parts. On the left of the water stood a row of a few houses which looked as if transformed into a chapel for the dead. Over the river there was a wooden bridge that had been burned. On account of the congestion before and during the burning, the banks on both sides of the bridge were filled with dead piled three and four deep. Particularly the wounded who could still move hurried to the river to quench their thirst or to wash their wounds; but the suffering brothers had no help, no hope of rescue: hunger, thirst, and fire were their death.
Although this terrible sight looked like a kingdom of the dead, the people had, nevertheless, become so indifferent to their feelings that they all ran numbly like shades of death away from the piteous crying. We moved forward and camped by a forest on a height facing Moscow; it was a wood of green trees. Here we not only had nothing to eat but also no water to drink, because of the high camp site; and the road through the fields was still covered with dead Russians. Now we traveled with somewhat higher hopes toward Moscow yet with the expectation that we should clash again with the Russians, but the Russians thought themselves too weak and went through the city setting fire to many parts, and the inhabitants were abandoned. Our troops came unexpectedly, something which the Russians before had believed impossible, because there never had been a foreign enemy who had reached and conquered the old city of the Tsar, the capital city. All the merchants and people of the city could not flee swiftly enough to save themselves, and many costly articles were left behind. Even though the French Guard occupied the city first and took possession of wine, bread, etc., for their army, there still remained a good deal for us, the allies. We marched in, too, and took quarters behind the Kremlin in the so-called German suburb, which ran from west to east behind the city proper.
10. BATTLE NEAR SMOLENSK, 5 AUGUST 1812. PHOTOENGRAVED BY I. GOFFERT FROM A PAINTING BY P. VON HESS.
On the march into the city or rather on the march toward it, from a hill in a forest an hour and a half away, we saw the huge city lying before us. Clouds of fire, red smoke, great gilded crosses of the church towers glittered, shimmered, and billowed up toward us from the city. This holy city was like the description of the city of Jerusalem, over which our Saviour wept; it even resembled the horror and the wasting according to the Gospel. Farther inward toward the city was a wide plain; and in front of the city ran the stream Alia,6 over which there was a wooden bridge. As we marched through, I observed as much as I could: there were broad streets, long straight alleys, tall buildings massively built of brick, church towers with burned roofs and half-melted bells, and copper roofs which had rolled from the buildings; everything was uninhabited and uninhabitable. After a few hours’ walking we went past the palace (Kremlin). Here was the stream Kremlin7 in an open, walled canal which runs through the city. At the lower end of the palace a street led toward the right to a beautiful parade ground; and behind this was the German suburb, which the Württemberg corps occupied for three weeks.
Here one could find and buy provisions; for each soldier was now citizen, mer
chant, innkeeper, and baker of Moscow. Everyone tried to dress as much as possible with silks and materials of all colors. Only tailors were lacking; silks, muslins, and red Morocco leather were all abundant. Things to eat were not wanting either. Whoever could find nothing could buy something and vegetables in sufficient quantity stood in the fields. Particularly was there an abundance of beets, which were as round and large as bowling balls and fiery red throughout. There were masses of cabbage three and four times as large in size as cabbage heads that we would consider large. The district called Muscovy is more favored in agriculture and climate, and more civilized than the regions toward St. Petersburg and those through which we had come. It was still good weather, and one could sleep warm enough under a coat at night.
After we had been citizens of Moscow for four weeks, we lost our burgher rights again. Napoleon refused the peace treaty proposed to him,8 and the army which had advanced some thirty hours’ farther on had to retreat, because the Russian army stationed in Moldavia was approaching. Now it was October 17, and Napoleon held an army review and announced the departure for October 18, early in the morning at 3 o’clock, with the warning that whoever should delay one hour would fall into the hands of the enemies. All beer, brandy, etc., was abandoned and whatever was still intact was ordered to be burned. Napoleon himself had the Kremlin undermined and blown up.9 The morning came, and each took his privilege of citizenship [Bürgerrecht] upon his shoulders and covered it with his coat cape of strong woolen cloth, and everybody had bread pouches of red Morocco leather at his side, all had an odd appearance as they set out; they filled, as far as it was possible, everything with sugar and the so-called Moscow tea in order to withstand the future misery. The sugar melted out of the merchant shops in the conflagration and, half-burnt, resembled a brownish gray glauber salt.10
11. “THIS FIRE WILL ILLUMINE FOR GENERATIONS THE FEROCITY OF NAPOLEON AND THE GLORY OF RUSSIA.” CAPTIONED WITH A QUOTE FROM A RESCRIPT (1812) FROM THE EMPEROR TO COUNT ROSTOPCHIN, THIS WOODCUT SHOWS THE GATES AND TOWERS OF THE KREMLIN RINGED WITH FLAME AND BILLOWING SMOKE.
When we assembled in the morning, my company was 25 privates strong, and all companies were more or less of this size. The march went forth to the right from behind the eastern side of the city, and we moved past the city on the south. There were two bridges thrown across the river below us, and the smoke from the flames surged up behind us. Up on the heights past the bridge to the left of the road stood a cloister in which there was a flour storeroom where everyone fetched as much as he could carry. Beyond the bridge there was a cabbage patch where millions of cabbage heads were still standing: it pained me not to be able to take along even one of these heads, since I fully expected the utmost famine.
From Moscow the road led south through Malo Jaroslavetz toward Kaluga. Near Jaroslavetz in the evening the Russian Moldavian army, which had come from Turkey, met us. In this city I was ordered on guard at the headquarters of the general staff while the army encamped in front of the city. Here the inhumanity of the commanders began to mount: the remaining troops’ weapons were inspected, and many who did not have their weapons fairly rust-free got 12 to 20 strokes with a club until they were near desperation. While I looked after my post, a comrade said to me that he had on a near-by wagon a little cask of wine brought along from Moscow and that since everything would be destroyed that day anyhow we would drink it up. We drank and also let others drink from it, but all of us said, “How will this turn out?”
In the morning Major von Schaumberg saw me and noticed that I was still alert and spirited. He addressed me, saying that I ought to stay with him and take care of him along with his attendant. I consented and took over a horse and his equipage. Then everyone packed up, and the enemy attacked us. The decision was soon to the advantage of the Russians, and all ran in a crowded retreat, the army moving toward Kaluga with the Cossacks in front of and beside us. The enemy army behind us shattered all the army corps, leaving each of us then without his commanding officer. Those who were too weak to carry their weapons or knapsacks threw them away, and all looked like a crowd of gypsies.
I and my fellow attendant traveled with the major as best we could. At one time my fellow attendant said, “Walter, you look all yellow in the face. You have the jaundice!” I became frightened at this and believed that my end would soon have to come, too, though I actually felt nothing.
Then we came to a second city, Borovsk. Here the city was immediately ablaze; and, in order for us to get through, soldiers had to be used to quench the flames. Camp was pitched by this city, and it became dark. One no sooner thought of resting than the Russians fell upon our army and cut off many as captives. Everything was in confusion, and during almost the whole night the throng had to retreat to Moshaisk, everyone running so as not to fall into the hands of the enemy. Because of these considerable losses, cannon, munition wagons, coaches, and baggage wagons by the hundreds had to be thrown into the water; and, where that was impossible, all wagons were burned, not one wheel being permitted to remain whole. The sutlers, even the cavalry, had to give up their horses so that these could be hitched to the cannon. The fighting, the shrieking, the firing of large and small guns, hunger and thirst, and all conceivable torments increased the never-ending confusion. Indeed, even the lice seemed to seek supremacy, for their number on both officers and privates was in the thousands.
12. THIS FOLDING MAP OF THE CITY OF MOSCOW IS A REMARKABLE FEATURE OF THE 1813 EDITION OF THE RUSSIANS AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTE BY BULGAKOV. LIGHT-SHADED AREAS INDICATE PARTS OF THE CITY DAMAGED BY FIRE DURING NAPOLEON’S RETREAT. THE KEY AT THE LOWER RIGHT DIVIDES THE CITY INTO TWENTY DISTRICTS, SHOWING THE NUMBER OF HOUSES DESTROYED IN EACH.
In times when death was near, God sent me help again and again. After midnight, when we pitched camp again following the above-mentioned pursuit by the Russians, a little village stood a quarter of an hour off the highway, and I crept with my master and two horses into a stable that still had a roof. There I saw hanging on a cord behind a grate a smoked pig’s head. As if received from the hand of God, I took it off from the cord with a prayer of thanks. I, my master, and my fellow servant ate it with unbelievable appetite, and we felt life come to us again. Then I always thought: “If even a few should get to German soil, it is possible that I with God’s help might also reach there.” In these days it snowed for the first time, and the snow remained. The cold arrived at the same time, too, and the freezing of the people multiplied the number of the dead. No one could walk fifty paces without seeing men stretched out half or completely dead. According to Napoleon’s scheme we were to strike leftward toward Galicia. The Russian, however, hindered us and drove us past Vereia and Verina and to the right into our old, desolate highway.
Finally we went over the battlefield at Moshaisk in the Holy Valley. Here one saw again in what numbers the dead lay. From the battle site on to this place the corpses were dragged from the highways, and entire hollows were filled with them. Gun barrels lay one on top of another in many piles from fifteen to twenty feet in height and in width where we bivouacked for the night.
Here God once more came to my help in a wondrous way. As I sought to fetch water in the night with my field flask, I came to a lake in which a hole had been chopped through the ice, and I drew my water with much effort because of the pressure of those standing around. On the way back, a round ball resembling a dead sheep was lying on the ground. I picked it up and in astonished joy unwrapped a rolled-up Crimean fur that reached from my head down to my feet, besides having a perculiar collar which could be clapped over my head. With my eyes turned to heaven I prayed again to God and gave thanks for the abundant mercy which I had received just when help was obviously most necessary.
I hurried to my major and had already put on the fur. He saw me and called out loudly, “Aye, God! What do you have on?” “A fur, Major, that I found just now. Now I’ve at least a covering.” “Oh,” he said, “I’ll give you my fur. It’s also a good one. If we get home, then y
ou can have it back again, or I’ll pay you enough for it.” Thus I took his fur, which was also beautiful, having a green silk lining so that it could be worn right side out or inside out. The next morning everyone hurried on his flight, and no one wanted to be the last.
We now came to Gshatsk, and this town was already in flames. Here again many cannon were thrown into the water and part of them buried. The pressure was so frightful that I and my major lost each other. Now I had the second horse to myself, and we could not find each other again that day, nor even for another ten days.
Thus in the evening I rode apart from the army to find in the outlying district some straw for the horse and rye for myself. I was not alone, for over a strip ten hours’ wide soldiers sought provisions because of their hunger; and, when there was nothing to be found, they could hunt up cabbage stalks here and there from under the snow, cut off some of the pulp from these, and let the core slowly thaw out in their mouths. Nevertheless, this time I had a second considerable piece of luck. I came to a village not yet burned where there were still sheaves of grain. I laid these before the horse and plucked off several heads of grain. I hulled them, laid the kernels mixed with chaff into a hand grinder which had been left in a house, and, taking turns with several other soldiers, ground some flour. Then we laid the dough, which we rolled into only fist-sized little loaves, on a bed of coals. Although the outside of the loaves burned to charcoal, the bread inside could be eaten. I got as many as fifteen such balls.