The Burning of Moscow
Page 37
General Jacques Alexandre Bernard Law, Marquis de Lauriston, aged 44, was descended from a Scottish family that had settled in France in the early eighteenth century. After a successful career in the army during the Revolutionary Wars, he became aide-de-camp to Napoleon, whom he first encountered as a student at the famed École Militaire in Paris before the revolution. In 1805–1811 he earned a reputation as a capable officer and diplomat and in February 1811 was rewarded with the position of French ambassador to Russia, where he served until the start of the war. Now, in early October 1812, the emperor resolved to send him to Kutuzov’s headquarters, and this choice only underscored the ‘sense of importance’ that he attached to the mission.52 Lauriston was probably pleased to supplant Caulaincourt, whom he loathed, but he shared the grand equerry’s assessment. He ventured to argue that at this season of the year it was time not to be negotiating from Moscow, but to be retiring to Kaluga. Napoleon answered that he liked ‘simple plans, and the least tortuous roads’, but he would not leave Moscow until peace had been concluded. He then showed Lauriston, as he had showed Caulaincourt, his letter to Alexander, then bade him approach Kutuzov and request a pass to St Petersburg. The desperation of Napoleon’s position was expressed in his last words to Lauriston: ‘I want peace, I must have peace, I absolutely will have peace. Save my honour by any means you can!’53
At dawn on 4 October Berthier informed Murat that ‘the emperor has decided to send one of his aides-de-camp to Commander-in-Chief Kutuzov’ and instructed him to contact the enemy advanced guard commander to convey the emperor’s message: ‘His Majesty wishes to know the day and hour when and where Kutuzov can meet [Lauriston].’54 It was already evening when Lauriston reached Murat’s headquarters, but the following morning Murat, Lauriston and a number of senior officers rode up to the Russian lines and made contact with the Russian outposts, which conveyed their message back to their headquarters. Kutuzov received the news around 10am55 while he was conferring with Emperor Alexander’s trusted aide-de-camp Prince Peter Volkonskii, who had recently arrived to ascertain the situation at the Russian army’s camp at Tarutino. Kutuzov was naturally intrigued by the French overture, especially because it was entrusted to a former ambassador to Russia. He instructed Volkonskii to meet Lauriston and drag out the negotiations to gain time. Reaching the Russian outposts, Lauriston was greeted by Prince Volkonskii, who inquired into the purpose of his mission and offered to deliver any letters to the Russian headquarters. But Lauriston, offended at being fobbed off, refused to confer with Volkonskii, declaring that he would speak only with Kutuzov himself. Volkonskii responded by saying that the Russian commander-in-chief might be willing to meet Lauriston that same night at a station several miles from the Russian outposts, but he needed to confirm this. He ordered his aide-de-camp to return to headquarters for further instructions, but then added a few words in Russian, telling him to gallop off for the first hundred yards or so, until he was out of sight, and then to slow down to a walk.56
The news of the French request for a truce and Kutuzov’s willingness to consider it had provoked strong opposition from the Russian generals and more than a dozen of them – including the British Commissioner Robert Wilson – anxiously gathered at the headquarters.57 They erroneously believed that Kutuzov had agreed to discuss the terms of a peace convention that would allow the Grande Armée to leave Russia unmolested. Considering such an act tantamount to treason, they were resolved to take drastic measures, including ‘not allowing Kutuzov to return and resume the command once he quitted it for this midnight interview in the enemy’s camp’.58 Robert Wilson, who enjoyed Emperor Alexander’s confidence, agreed to voice these concerns to Kutuzov himself. It was late in morning of 5 October when Wilson entered Kutuzov’s room. They spoke at length and the conversation frequently became heated. Kutuzov defended his decision to meet the French envoy, while Wilson reminded him of Emperor Alexander’s refusal to conduct any negotiations while an armed Frenchman was in the country. Wilson argued that Kutuzov’s intention of ‘meeting an enemy’s general and envoy beyond his own advanced posts at midnight was unheard of in the annals of war, except when illicit communications had been intended, so illicit as not to admit of a third person being employed’. He charged that the ‘army would believe, and would be authorized to believe, that [Kutuzov] on quitting the Russian lines was about to make a treaty, or enter into some transaction with the enemy, in defiance and contravention of their Emperor’s promises and orders; that the interests of Russia and the honour of the imperial army would be compromised by any treaty, however speciously framed; and that the destruction or capitulation of the enemy was the only “point de mire” which should be entertained by the Marshal’.59 One can only imagine Kutuzov’s reaction upon hearing this brash British meddler’s threat that ‘under such circumstances the Russian generals and army might and would feel themselves under the terrible necessity of withdrawing his authority until the emperor’s decision could be known’.
Kutuzov knew that although he was popular with the rank and file, he had many critics (and enemies) in the officer corps. Bennigsen openly tried to have him removed so he could replace him at the helm of the armies. Prince Bagration (who passed away on 24 September) described Kutuzov as ‘a fine piece of work’ and similar criticism was voiced by other officers: General Nikolay Rayevskii considered Kutuzov a ‘mediocrity’, Miloradovich derisively called him ‘a petite courtier’ and Dokhturov regarded him as a ‘coward’. Upon his appointment to lead the Russian armies in August, Kutuzov had promised to end the retreating that had made Barclay de Tolly so unpopular. Yet in the wake of Borodino and the abandonment of Moscow, Kutuzov’s reputation was dented. ‘There was a general suspicion’, wrote Wilson, ‘that Kutuzov did not wish to push the enemy to extremity and a corresponding vigilance was exercised over his transactions.’60 Kutuzov might have heard of this discontent but on 4 October he actually faced it at first hand. To drive home his point, Wilson brought in ‘reinforcements’: Duke Alexander of Württemberg (Emperor Alexander’s uncle), the Duke of Oldenburg (the emperor’s brother-in-law) and Prince Peter Volkonskii. Considering their connections to the emperor and their knowledge ‘of his most intimate feelings’, these men were ‘less liable to objection on the ground of subordination than any of the other generals under [Kutuzov’s] orders’.61 The four of them then proceeded to pressure Kutuzov into revising his decision. ‘After much controversy and an expression of dissent’, Kutuzov complied and dispatched a note to Lauriston advising him that he was unable to keep the appointment made and inviting him instead to his headquarters.62
Around 11pm Lauriston was taken to the Russian camp at Tarutino. Although Wilson claims the French envoy was ‘blindfolded’ to prevent him from observing the Russian deployment, other Russian eyewitnesses disagree. Kutuzov wanted to make the most of this opportunity to impress the French envoy and had ordered the men to ‘ignite numerous bonfires so that it appeared that more than 200,000 men were in the camp’. Soldiers were told to cook porridge, sing songs and create the impression of a joyous atmosphere.63 ‘Travelling in an open carriage, Lauriston arrived as darkness descended,’ recalled Alexander Sherbinin, who served on Kutuzov’s staff. ‘He was accompanied by Lieutenant Mikhail Orlov of the Chevalier Guard Regiment. It was then that we saw, for the first time, Kutuzov in full uniform, [even] wearing a feathered half-moon hat. Not pleased with the tarnished appearance of his epaulettes, Kutuzov asked [General] Konovnitsyn to lend him his, although Konovnitsyn was no dandy and Miloradovich [who was famous for his sense of style] would have been a much better choice.’64
Lauriston was ushered into Kutuzov’s hut, where he found a small group of high-ranking officers. After some general conversation, everyone withdrew, leaving Kutuzov and the envoy together. Lauriston at first complained of the ‘barbarity’ of Russian behaviour towards the French, and cited examples of peasants attacking isolated French troops, and burning their own homes and harvests to deny the French any resources.
Kutuzov replied that ‘he could not civilize in three months a nation who regarded the enemy as worse than a marauding force of the Mongols of Genghis Khan’. Lauriston tried to interject: ‘But there is at least some difference.’ ‘There may be,’ retorted the field marshal, ‘but none in the eyes of the people; besides, I can only be responsible for the conduct of my troops.’ Lauriston then briefly spoke about the fire of Moscow, noting that it was not the French who burnt the city. At last he came to the real point of his mission. ‘Is this strange war, this unique war, to go on eternally?’ he inquired. ‘The emperor, my master, has a sincere desire to end this dispute between two great and generous nations and to end it for ever.’ Kutuzov replied that he had no instructions on that subject. ‘When I left for the armies, the word peace was not mentioned a single time … I should be cursed by posterity if I were regarded as the prime mover behind any kind of accommodation, for such is the present mood of my nation …’ Returning to the subject of the armistice, Lauriston continued, ‘You must not think we wish it because our affairs are desperate. Our two armies are nearly equal in force. You are, it is true, nearer your supplies and reinforcements than we are, but we also receive reinforcements.’ He tried to play down the effects of the French defeat at Salamanca in July. ‘Perhaps you have heard that our affairs are disastrous in Spain?’ he inquired. ‘I have,’ said Kutuzov, ‘from Sir Robert Wilson, whom you just saw leave me, and with whom I have daily interviews.’ Lauriston argued that things were not as bad as Wilson might have described them. The British ‘have reasons to exaggerate our reverses’. He acknowledged setbacks in Spain, including the British occupation of Madrid, but expected to see the situation reversed soon. ‘Everything will be retrieved in that country by the immense force marching thither.’ At the end of the conversation Lauriston asked for a safe-conduct to get to St Petersburg with a view to possible negotiations. Kutuzov, however, refused to let him through and instead promised to submit the matter to Emperor Alexander. After half an hour’s talk, Lauriston departed.65
The following morning Kutuzov dispatched Peter Volkonskii with a report to St Petersburg, recommending that Napoleon’s offer be ignored. On receiving the letter, Alexander was enraged by the field marshal’s decision to meet the French envoy at all and sent him a sharp reproof:
In the interview I had with you at the very moment of your departure, and when I confided my armies to your command, I informed you of my firm desire to avoid all negotiations with the enemy, and all relations with him that tended to peace. Now, after what has passed, I must repeat with the same resolution that I desire this principle adopted by me to be observed by you to its fullest extent, and in the most rigorous and inflexible manner … All the opinions and suggestions you have received from me – all the resolutions which I have expressed in the orders addressed to you, should convince you that my determination was unalterable, and that at this moment no proposition of the enemy can induce me to terminate the war, and by that to weaken the sacred duty that I have to perform in avenging my injured country.66
However, in defying the imperial order not to negotiate with the enemy, it must be said that Kutuzov was guided by military considerations. Just one and half months later, while conversing with a captured French official, he admitted that he had done everything he could to draw out and prolong the negotiations because ‘in politics you do not miss an opportunity that presents itself to you spontaneously’. He had agreed to meet Lauriston and send letters to St Petersburg only because ‘the distance between St Petersburg and Moscow required time, and it was precisely that time which the marshal needed to mobilize all the armies of Russia’.67 As before, Kutuzov was convinced that ‘winter is our greatest ally’ and he was willing to bend, and if necessary defy, imperial instructions to gain precious time.
Upon returning to the Kremlin, Lauriston briefed Napoleon on his meeting and stressed that the letter would be delivered by the Russian emperor’s own aide-de-camp and a response should be forthcoming within a fortnight. This seemingly minor detail had important implications. ‘Had Lauriston returned to say that Kutuzov had simply refused to receive him,’ reasoned one historian, ‘Napoleon would have been stung to the quick, and he would have lost no time in hastening his departure.’68 As it was, the news that his request was being transmitted directly to Alexander revived Napoleon’s hopes for peace and resulted in his insistence on staying in Moscow, ignoring all advice to retreat; evidently, he remained convinced that the food supplies were adequate for the army’s needs. He also seemed unwilling to consider the threats that the arriving Russian reinforcements, including Admiral Paul Chichagov’s Army of the Danube, could pose, and continued to believe in the security of his rear. General Dumas later wondered whether the emperor was ‘misinformed respecting the situation of the Russian army, which he believed to be weakened and dispirited, whereas it was receiving powerful reinforcements’.69
Searching For a Way Out
Outsmarted by Kutuzov, Napoleon was also misled by Nature itself. Throughout the first two weeks of October the weather was beautiful, and golden autumn days succeeded one another. ‘The weather is so lovely for the time of year that one is tempted to believe God is with the Emperor Napoleon,’ commented one participant.70 Napoleon had been frequently warned about the rigours of the Russian climate but so far the autumn of 1812 was so mild that ‘even the natives were amazed’.71 Enjoying warm and sunny days on his regular outings,72 Napoleon frequently compared the weather with that of France. On 4 October he wrote to Marie Louise, ‘the weather here is beautiful, as warm as in Paris. We have just had those lovely Fontainebleau days.’73 He brushed aside the concerns of Caulaincourt, who, based on his experiences as an ambassador to St Petersburg, warned Napoleon of the impending cold. Napoleon frequently teased him: ‘So this is the terrible Russian winter that Monsieur de Caulaincourt frightens the children with.’74 But this misplaced sense of complacency proved to be consequential, since the mild superb weather ‘doubtless contributed to dispel any apprehensions that [Napoleon] might have entertained respecting the difficulties of a retreat’.75 He was willing to allow the lapse of the ten or twelve days necessary to receive an answer from St Petersburg, and could not suppose that by departing in late October he would be setting out too late. ‘The mild temperatures that lasted much longer than usual this year all contributed in lulling him,’ believed Caulaincourt. ‘Even in private so strongly did the emperor express his convictions of remaining in Moscow now that those held in his closest confidence continued to believe him for quite some time.’76
In those days, some historians assure us, Napoleon kept ‘sinking into depression, sometimes spending whole hours without saying a word’77 or ‘dwelling in the palace of the tsars, sometimes full of confidence, sometimes much depressed, at the very solstice of his power, or in other words, at that undetermined period which separates the moment of the greatest elevation of the stars from that of their decline’.78 But this image of the downcast and gloomy emperor should not be overplayed or interpreted as representing complacency and idleness. His valet Constant Wairy, while acknowledging that the emperor ‘exhibited the depressing calm of a careworn man who cannot foresee how things will result’, also noted that Napoleon was ‘a prey to his genius for administration, even in the midst of the ruins of this great city; and in order to divert his mind from the anxiety caused by outside affairs, occupied himself with municipal organization’. Indeed, while awaiting Alexander’s response, Napoleon remained engaged in the day-to-day administration of the army and the empire, receiving daily deliveries of reports, letters, state documents and other materials from all across Europe. Among the daily minutiae, he reviewed stacks of promotion papers rewarding troops for their performances in the preceding months of campaigning. Promotions and decorations rained down on the army79 but captured French documents in the Russian Archives reveal that the emperor did not simply blindly approve such documents but attentively reviewed each dossier and, in some cases, expunged individuals (
or even entire regiments) that he found unworthy of reward.80 A good example of his attention to detail and his micromanagement of issues that his intendants should have taken care of can be found in his 6 October letter to Maret: