The words were hardly out of his mouth when the old officer, with his big bristling moustache, radiant face and gleaming eyes, brandished his sabre in the air with a loud ‘Long live the Emperor!’, ordered his men to follow, put spurs to his horse and galloped off down to the river. Once there he gave a vicious kick to a reluctant horse, and plunged into the depths, heading out into the fastest part of the river. Hundreds of uhlans galloped down and followed him in. Out in the middle of the fast-flowing current it was shockingly cold. The uhlans were soon sliding off their horses and clinging on to one another. Some of the horses were drowned, and so were some of the men, while the others struggled to swim across, clinging to the saddle or hanging on to their horse’s manes. They swam forward manfully, and although there was a crossing-place only a few hundred yards away they were proud to swim on and drown in the river under the eyes of that man sitting on the log who wasn’t even watching what they were doing. When the adjutant, back with the Emperor, picked his moment and bravely drew attention to the Poles’ devotion to his Majesty, the little man in the grey coat got to his feet, summoned Berthier, and began pacing up and down the bank with him, issuing instructions and glancing sourly from time to time at the drowning uhlans, who were proving such a distraction.
This was nothing new for him; he needed no reminding that his presence anywhere on earth, from Africa to the steppe-land of Muscovy, always had the same devastating effect on men, sometimes driving them to acts of madness and self-sacrifice. He sent for his horse and rode back to his quarters.
Some forty uhlans had drowned in the river even though boats had been sent out to help. Most of them struggled back to this side. The colonel and one or two of his men did manage to swim right across and scramble out on the other bank. And their first thought on clambering out, with their soaking clothes flapping and streaming, was to roar, ‘Long live the Emperor!’ and look back in triumph at the place where Napoleon had been standing. He was no longer there, but for one moment they thought that happiness was theirs.
That evening between the issuing of two orders – one for speeding up the arrival of counterfeit rouble notes printed for circulation in Russia, and the other for the execution of a Saxon caught with a letter on him containing a report on the disposition of the French troops – Napoleon issued a third instruction: the colonel who had charged into the river for no good reason was to be enrolled in the Legion of Honour, of which Napoleon himself was the head.
As Euripides once said, ‘Those whom God wishes to destroy he first drives mad.’
CHAPTER 3
Meanwhile the Russian Emperor had been living in Vilna for more than a month, inspecting the troops and observing manoeuvres. Nothing was ready for the war that everyone was expecting, and the Tsar had come from Petersburg to help prepare for it. There was no general plan of action. Hesitancy over the need to adopt one plan from the many that had been proposed was worse than ever at the end of the Tsar’s month at headquarters. Each of the three armies3 had its own separate commander-in-chief, but there was no commander with overall authority, and the Tsar showed no sign of undertaking that role himself.
The longer the Tsar stayed on in Vilna, the fewer preparations were made for the war by men grown weary of waiting for it. Every effort of those who surrounded the Tsar seemed to be directed towards ensuring that his Majesty enjoyed himself and forgot all about the coming war.
In June, after a round of balls and other celebrations given by Polish magnates, members of the court and the Tsar himself, it occurred to one of the Polish generals seconded to the Tsar that all the generals on the staff should give a dinner and a ball in honour of his Majesty. The proposal was taken up joyfully on all sides. The Tsar gave his consent. The generals set about raising the money by subscription. The lady considered most likely to appeal to the Tsar was invited to act as hostess for the ball.
Count Bennigsen, a local landowner, offered a house for this celebration and the 13th of June was the day fixed for a ball and a dinner, with a regatta and fireworks at Zakreto, Count Bennigsen’s country seat.
On the very day when Napoleon ordered his men across the Niemen, and the vanguard of his army pushed the Cossacks aside and crossed the Russian frontier, Alexander spent a long evening at Count Bennigsen’s house enjoying the ball given by the generals on his staff.
