《War And Peace》 Book10 CHAPTER I
by Leo Tolstoy
NAPOLEON BEGAN THE WAR with Russia because he could not help going to
Dresden, being dazzled by the homage paid him there, putting on the Polish
uniform, yielding to the stimulating influence of a June morning, and giving way
to an outburst of fury in the presence of Kurakin and afterwards of
Balashev.
Alexander refused all negotiations because he felt himself personally
insulted. Barclay de Tolly did his utmost to command the army in the best way
possible, so as to do his duty and gain the reputation of a GREat general.
Rostov charged the French because he could not resist the temptation to gallop
across the level plain. And all the innumerable persons who took part in the war
acted similarly, in accordance with their personal peculiarities, habits,
circumstances, and aims. They were all impelled by fear or vanity, enjoyment,
indignation, or national consideration, supposing that they knew what they were
about and that they were acting independently, while they were all the
involuntary tools of history and were working out a result concealed from
themselves but comprehensible to us. Such is the invariable fate of all
practical leaders, and the higher their place in the social hierarchy, the less
free they are.
Now the leading men of 1812 have long left their places; their personal
interests have vanished, leaving no trace, and nothing remains before us but the
historical results of the time.
But once let us admit that the people of Europe under Napoleon's leadership
had to make their way into the heart of Russia and there to perish, and all the
self-contradictory, meaningless, cruel actions of the men who took part in this
war become intelligible to us.
Providence compelled all those men in striving for the attainment of their
personal aims to combine in accomplishing one immense result, of which no one
individual man (not Napoleon, not Alexander, still less any one taking practical
part in the campaign) had the slightest inkling.
Now it is clear to us what was the cause of the destruction of the French
army in 1812. No one disputes that the cause of the loss of Napoleon's French
forces was, on one hand, their entering at too late a season upon a winter march
in the heart of Russia without sufficient preparation; and on the other, the
character the war had assumed from the burning of Russian towns and the hatred
the enemy aroused in the peasantry. But obvious as it seems now, no one at the
time foresaw that this was the only means by which the best army in the world,
eight hundred thousand strong, led by the best of generals, could be defeated in
a conflict with the inexperienced Russian army of half the strength, led by
inexperienced generals. Not only was this utterly unforeseen, but every effort
indeed was being continually made on the Russian side to hinder the one
means that could save Russia; and in spite of the experience and so-called
military genius of Napoleon, every effort was made on the French side to
push on to Moscow at the end of the summer, that is to do the very thing bound
to bring about their ruin.
In historical works on the year 1812, the French writers are very fond of
saying that Napoleon was aware of the danger of lengthening out his line, that
he sought a decisive engagement, that his marshals advised him to stay at
Smolensk, and similar statements to show that even at the time the real danger
of the campaign was seen. The Russian historians are still fonder of declaring
that from the beginning of the campaign there existed a plan of Scythian warfare
by leading Napoleon on into the heart of Russia. And this plan is ascribed by
some writers to Pfuhl, by others to some Frenchman, and by others to Barclay de
Tolly; while other writers give the credit of this supposed scheme to the
Emperor Alexander himself, supporting their view by documents, proclamations,
and letters, in which such a course of action certainly is hinted at. But all
these hints at foreseeing what actually did happen on the French as well as on
the Russian side are only conspicuous now because the event justified them. If
the event had not come to pass, these hints would have been forgotten, as
thousands and millions of suggestions and suppositions are now forgotten that
were current at the period, but have been shown by time to be unfounded and so
have been consigned to oblivion. There are always so many presuppositions as to
the cause of every event that, however the matter ends, there are always people
who will say: “I said at the time that it would be so”: quite oblivious of the
fact that among the numerous suppositions they made there were others too
suggesting just the opposite course of events.
The notion that Napoleon was aware of the danger of extending his line, and
that the Russians had a scheme for drawing the enemy into the heart of Russia,
obviously belong to the same category; and only historians with a GREat bias can
ascribe such reflections to Napoleon and his marshals, or such plans to the
Russian generals. All the facts are directly opposed to such a view. Far from
desiring to lure the French into the heart of Russia, the Russians did their
utmost to arrest their progress throughout the war from the time they crossed
the frontier. And far from dreading the extension of his line of communications,
Napoleon rejoiced at every step forward as a triumph, and did not seek pitched
battles as eagerly as he had done in his previous campaigns.
At the very beginning of the campaign, our armies were divided up, and the
sole aim for which we strove was to unite them; though there was no benefit to
be derived from uniting them if our object was to retreat and draw the enemy
into the heart of the country. The Emperor was with the army to inspire it not
to yield an inch of Russian soil and on no account to retreat. An immense camp
was fortified at Drissa in accordance with Pfuhl's plan, and it was not proposed
to retreat further. The Tsar reprimanded the commander-in-chief for every
retreat. The Tsar can never have anticipated the burning of Moscow, or even the
enemy's presence at Smolensk, and when the armies had been reunited, the Tsar
was indignant at the taking and burning of Smolensk without a general engagement
having been fought before its walls. Such was the Tsar's feeling, but the
Russian generals, and the whole Russian people, were even more indignant at the
idea of our men retreating.
Napoleon, after dividing up the army, moved on into the heart of the country,
letting slip several opportunities of an engagement. In August he was in
Smolensk and thinking of nothing but advancing further, though, as we see now,
that advance meant inevitable ruin.
The fact shows perfectly clearly that Napoleon foresaw no danger in the
advance on Moscow, and that Alexander and the Russian generals did not dream at
the time of luring Napoleon on, but aimed at the very opposite. Napoleon was
drawn on into Russia, not through any plans—no one dreamed of the possibility of
it—but simply through the complex play of intrigues and desires and motives of
the actors in the war, who had no conception of what was to come and of what was
the sole means of saving Russia. Everything came to pass by chance. The army was
split up early in the campaign. We tried to effect a junction between the parts
with the obvious intention of fighting a battle and checking the enemy's
advance; and in this effort to effect a junction, avoiding a battle with a far
stronger enemy, we were forced to retreat at an acute angle, and so drew the
French after us to Smolensk. But it is not enough to say that both parts of the
army retreated on lines inclined at an acute angle, because the French were
advancing between the two armies. The angle was made the more acute and we
retreated further because Barclay de Tolly, an unpopular German, was detested by
Bagration, and the latter, in command of the second half of the army, did his
utmost to delay a junction with Barclay de Tolly in order to avoid being under
his command. Bagration delayed the junction of the armies, though this was the
chief aim of all the authorities, because he believed that he would expose his
army to danger on the march, and that it would be more advantageous for him to
retreat more to the left and the south, annoying the enemy on the flank and
rear, and reinforcing his army in Ukraine. And he believed this, because he did
not want to put himself under the command of the German Barclay, who was his
junior in the service, and personally disliked by him.
The Emperor accompanied the army in order to excite its patriotic ardour; but
his presence and inability to decide on any course of action and the immense
number of counsellors and plans that swarmed about him, nullified all action on
the part of the first army, and that army too had to retreat.
At the camp at Drissa it was proposed to take a stand. But the energy of
Paulucci, scheming to become a leading general, affected Alexander; and Pfuhl's
whole plan was abandoned, and the scheme of campaign intrusted to Barclay. But
as the latter did not inspire complete confidence, his power too was limited.
The armies were split up, there was no unity, no supreme command: Barclay was
unpopular. But on one side the confusion and division and unpopularity of the
German commander-in-chief led to vacillation and to avoiding a battle, which
would have been inevitable had the armies been united and any one but Barclay in
command of them. And on the other hand, it all led to a growing indignation with
the Germans and a growing fervour of patriotism.
At last the Tsar left the army, and, as the only suitable excuse to get rid
of him, the happy suggestion was made that he must rouse up the people in the
capitals to wage the war on a truly national scale. And the Tsar's visit to
Moscow did in fact treble the forces of the Russian army. The Tsar left the army
in the hope that the commander-in-chief would be able to act alone, and that
more decisive measures would be taken. But the commander's position became
weaker and even more difficult. Bennigsen, the Grand Duke, and a swarm of
adjutant generals, remained with the army to watch over the actions of the
commander-in-chief, and to urge him to GREater activity; and Barclay, feeling
less than ever free to act under the watchful gaze of all these “eyes of the
Tsar,” became still more cautious and anxious to avoid a pitched battle, and
clung to a prudent inaction. The Grand Duke hinted at treachery, and demanded a
general engagement. Lubomirsky, Bronnitsky, Vlotsky, and others of the same
sort, helped to swell the clamour to such a point that Barclay, on the pretext
of sending papers to the Tsar in Petersburg, got rid of the Polish generals, and
entered into open conflict with Bennigsen and the Grand Duke.
In Smolensk, in spite of Bagration's wishes to the contrary, the armies were
at last united.
Bagration drove up in his carriage to the house occupied by Barclay. Barclay
put on his official scarf, and came out to GREet and to present his report to
his senior officer, Bagration. Bagration, to rival his magnanimity, acknowledged
Barclay as his superior officer, in spite of his own seniority; but he was less
in accord with him than ever. At the Tsar's command, he sent reports personally
to him, and wrote to Araktcheev: “My sovereign's will is law, but I can do
nothing acting with the minister” (so he called Barclay). “For God's
sake, send me somewhere else, if only in command of a regiment, for here I can
do nothing. The head-quarters are crammed full of Germans, there's no living
here for a Russian, and no making head or tail of anything. I supposed I was
serving my sovereign and my country, but in practice it comes to serving
Barclay. I must own I do not care to.”
The swarm of Bronnitskys, Wintzengerodes, and others like them, embittered
the feud between the commanders still further, and there was less unity than
ever. Preparations were made to attack the French before Smolensk. A general was
sent to review the position. This general, detesting Barclay, visits a friend of
his own, a commander of a corps, and after spending the day with him, returns
and condemns on every point the proposed field of battle without having seen
it.
While disputes and intrigues were going on as to the suitable spot for a
battle, and while we were looking for the French and mistaking their line of
advance, the French fell upon Nevyerovsky's division, and advanced upon the
walls of Smolensk itself.
We were surprised into having to fight at Smolensk to save our
communications. A battle was fought. Thousands were slain on both sides.
Smolensk was abandoned against the will of the Tsar and the whole people. But
Smolensk was burnt by its own inhabitants, who had been deceived by their
governor. And those ruined inhabitants, after setting an example to the rest of
Russia, full of their losses, and burning with hatred of the enemy, moved on to
Moscow. Napoleon advances; we retreat; and so the very result is attained that
is destined to overthrow Napoleon.
