Russia's Fatherland War
From Tolstoy, Count Leo Nikolayevich. War and Peace. trans. Nathan Haskell Dole (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., 1889), 6-8, 297-298, 192-193.
 

Count Leo Nikolayevich Tolstoy (1828-1910) wrote War and Peace between 1865 and 1868. In it, he provides a Russian perspective of Napoleon’s Russian campaign (1812), often seen as the beginning of the end for Napoleon. The war became known, in Russia, as the “Fatherland War” and Tolstoy’s account is the Russian account of Napoleon's defeat.

 

VOLUME III
PART 1, CHAPTER II

On the 10th of June, Napoleon started from Dresden, where he had been for three weeks the center of a court composed of princes, dukes, kings, and at least one emperor.

Before his departure, Napoleon showed his favor to the princes, kings, and the emperor, who deserved it: he turned a cold shoulder on the kings and princes who had incurred his displeasure; he gave the Empress of Austria pearls and diamonds, which he called his own, though they had been stolen from other kings, and then tenderly embracing the Empress Maria Louisa, as the historian terms her, left her heart-broken by his absence, which it seemed to her, now that she considered herself his consort, although he had another consort left behind in Paris was too hard to be endured.

Although the diplomats stoutly maintained their belief in the possibility of peace, and were working heartily for this end; although Napoleon himself wrote a letter to the Emperor Alexander, calling him Monsieur, mon Frère, and sincerely assuring him that he had no desire for war, and that he should always love and respect him; --still, he was off for the army, and at every station was issuing new rescripts having in view to expedite the movement of the troops from west to east.

He traveled in a calash drawn by six horses and accompanied by his pages, aides, and an escort, and took the route through Posen, Thorn, Dantzic, and Königsberg.1 The army was moving from the west to the east, and relays of fresh horses bore him in the same direction. On the 22d of June, he overtook the army, and spent the night in the Wilkowisky forest, on the estate of a Polish count, where quarters had been made ready for him.

On the following day Napoleon, outstripping the army, drove to the Niemen2 in his calash; and, for the purpose of reconnoitering the spot where the army was to cross, he put on a Polish uniform, and went down to the banks of the river.

When he saw on the other side the Cossacks, and the wide-stretching steppes, in the center of which was Moscou, la ville sainte, the capital of that empire, which reminded him of the Scythian one, against which Alexander of Macedon had marched, Napoleon, unexpectedly and contrary to all strategical as well as diplomatic considerations, gave orders for the advance, and on the next day the troops began to cross the Nieman.

Early on the morning of the twenty-fourth, he emerged from his tent, which had been pitched on the steep left bank of the river, and looked through his field-glass at the torrents of his troops pouring forth from the Wilkowisky forest, and streaming across the three bridges thrown over the Niemen.

The troops were aware of the presence of the emperor; they searched for him with their eyes, and when they discovered him on the cliff, standing in front of his tent, and distinguished from his suite by his figure, in an overcoat and cocked hat, they flung their caps in the air, and shouted, “Vive l’empereur!” and then, rank after rank, a never-ceasing stream, they poured forth and still poured forth from the mighty forest that till now had concealed them, and, dividing into three currents, crossed over the bridges to the other side.

“Something’ll be done this time! Oh, when he takes a hand, he makes things hot!--God—save us.—There he is! Hurrah for the emperor!”

“So these are the Steppes of Asia? Beastly country all the same!”

“Good-by! Beauché, I’ll save the best palace in Moscow for you. Good-by! Luck to you!”

“Have you seen him? The emperor? --Hurrah for the emperor—ror—ror!”

“If I am made Governor of India, Gérard, I’ll appoint you minister at Cashmir; that’s a settled thing.”

“Hurrah for the emperor! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

“Those rascally Cossacks! How they run! Hurrah for the emperor!”

“There he is! Do you see him? Twice I’ve seen him as plain as I see you, --the ‘Little Corporal!’”

“I saw him give the cross to one of our vets. –Hurrah for the emperor!”

Such were the remarks and shouts made by men, both young and old, of the most widely differing characters and positions in the world. The faces of all these men bore one universal expression of delight at the beginning of the long expected campaign, and of enthusiasm and devotion for the man in the gray overcoat, standing on the hill.

* * *

VOLUME IV
PART 3, CHAPTER V

In contradistinction to Kutuzof, though at the same time, and in an event of far greater importance than the retreat of the army without fighting, --namely, in the abandonment and the burning of Moscow, --Rostopchin, who has been considered the responsible agent for this action, behaved in an entirely different manner. This event--the abandonment of Moscow and its destruction by fire--was just exactly, after the battle of Borodino, as inevitable as the retirement of the troops beyond Moscow, --without fighting.

Every man in Russia might have predicted what took place, not indeed by basing his deductions on logic, but by basing them on that sentiment which is inherent in ourselves and was inherent in our forefathers.

What happened in Moscow likewise happened--and that too without Count Rostopchin’s proclamations--in all the cities and villages of the Russian land, beginning with Smolensk. The nation unconcernedly awaited the arrival of the foe, displaying no disorder, no excitement, tearing no one in pieces, but calmly awaiting their fate, conscious that, even at the most trying moment, they should find they had the power to do whatever was required of them. And as soon as the foe approached, the more wealthy elements of the population departed, leaving their possessions behind them; the poorer classes stayed, and burned and destroyed what was abandoned.

The conviction that things must be as they are has always been and still is inherent in the Russian mind. And this conviction--nay, more, the presentiment that Moscow would be taken--pervaded Russian and Muscovite society in the year 1812. Those who started to abandon Moscow as early as July and the beginning of August showed that this was what they expected. Those who fled, taking with them whatever possessions, acted thus in obedience to that latent patriotism which is expressed not in phrases, or in the slaughter of children for the salvation of the fatherland, and by other unnatural deeds, but is expressed imperceptibly, simply, organically, and accordingly, always produces the most powerful results.

“It is disgraceful to flee from danger; only cowards will fly from Moscow,” it was said to them. Rostopchin, in his Afishki, declared that it was ignominious to leave Moscow. They were ashamed to be branded as cowards, they were ashamed to go; but still they went, because they knew that it had to be so.

What made them go?

It is impossible to suppose that Rostopchin frightened them by his cock-and-bull stories of the atrocities committed by Napoleon in conquered lands. They fled, and the first to flee were the wealthy, cultivated people, who knew perfectly well that Vienna and Berlin were left intact, and that there, during Napoleon’s occupation, the inhabitants led a gay life with the fascinating Frenchmen, who at that time were so beloved by Russian men and particularly Russian women.

They went, because for Russians there could be no question whether it would be good or bad to have the French in control of Moscow. It was impossible to exist under the dominion of the French: That was worse than aught else. They began to escape even before the battle of Borodino, and after the battle of Borodino with greater and greater rapidity, not heeding the summons to remain and protect the city, notwithstanding the statements of the governor general of Moscow as to his intention of taking the Iverskaya virgin and going forth to fight, and notwithstanding the balloons which were destined to bring destruction upon the French, and notwithstanding all the nonsense which Count Rostopchin wrote about in his proclamations.

They knew that the army ought to fight, and that if it could not, then it was no use for them to go out with their fine ladies and their household serfs to Tri Gorui to do battle with Napoleon, but that it was necessary for them to make their escape, however much they might regret leaving their property to destruction.

They fled, and gave never a thought to the majestic significance of this splendid and rich capital abandoned by its inhabitants, and unquestionably doomed to be burned (for it is not in the nature of the Russian populace not to sack, not to set fire to empty houses); they fled each for himself; but, at the same time, merely as a consequence of their fleeing, was accomplished that majestic event which will forever remain the crowning glory of the Russian people.

* * *

VOLUME IV
PART 4, CHAPTER IV

After the encounter at Viazma, where Kutuzof could not restrain his troops from the desire to overthrow, to cut off the enemy, the further movement of the fleeing French and the pursuing Russians took place without a battle until they reached Krasnoye.

The flight of the French was so rapid that the Russian army chasing them could not catch up with them, that the horses in the cavalry and artillery came to a standstill, and that information in regard to the movements of the French was always untrustworthy.

The men of the Russian army were so worn out by these uninterrupted marches of forty versts a day, that they could not move onward any faster.

To appreciate the degree of exhaustion which the Russian army suffered, it is only necessary to realize the significance of this fact, that, while the Russian army, on leaving Tarutino, had a hundred thousand men, and lost during the whole march not more than five thousand in killed and wounded, and less than a hundred taken prisoners, they had only fifty thousand men when they got to Krasnoye.

The swift pursuit of the Russians after the French was as destructive in its effect on them as the retreat was to the French. The difference was only that the Russian army moved at will, without that threat of destruction which hung over the French army, an that, while the stragglers and the sick from among the French would fall into the hands of the enemy, the Russians who were left behind were at home.

The principal cause of the diminution of Napoleon’s army was the rapidity of its flight, and indubitable proof of this is furnished by the corresponding diminution of the Russian troops.

All Kutuzof’s efforts, just as had been the case at Tarutino and at Viazma, were directed--so far as lay in his power--solely to the preventing of interference with that destructive movement of the French (though this was contrary to desires expressed in Petersburg and in the Russian army by his own generals), but to co-operate with it, and to render the movement of his own troops as easy as possible.

But, moreover, ever since the troops had begun to suffer from fatigue, and from the tremendous losses due to the rapidity of the movement, Kutuzof had discovered still another reason for slackening the exertions of the army, and for delay. The object of the Russian troops was pursuit of the French. The route of the French was unknown, and therefore the more closely our troops followed on their heels, the more separated they became. Only by following at some distance was it possible (by the most direct road) to avoid the zigzags made by the French.

1The modern day cities of Poznan, Torun, Gdansk, Kaliningrad, respectively.
2Today Nemunas, Lithuania.