Prince Kutuzov’s adjutant has brought me a letter demanding a police escort for the army down the Ryazan road. He says he is regretfully abandoning Moscow. Sire! Kutuzov’s action decides the fate of the capital and your whole empire. Russia will shudder to learn that this city, where the greatness of Russia is concentrated and the ashes of your forefathers lie, has been surrendered. I shall follow the army. I have had everything taken away. All that remains is for me to weep over the fate of my country.
On receiving this message, the Tsar dispatched Prince Volkonsky to Kutuzov with the following response:
Prince Mikhail Ilarionovich! I have received no reports from you since the 29th of August. Meanwhile I have received, by way of Yaroslavl, from the governor-general of Moscow, writing on September 1st, the sad tidings that you have decided to take the army away and abandon Moscow. You can well imagine the effect this news has had upon me, and your silence exacerbates my astonishment. I am sending herewith Adjutant-General Prince Volkonsky to ascertain from you the present situation of the army and the reasons that lie behind such an unhappy decision.
CHAPTER 3
Nine days after the abandonment of Moscow a courier from Kutuzov reached Petersburg with an official announcement of the surrender of the city. He was a Frenchman, Michaud, who, as he put it, ‘may have been a foreigner but called himself a Russian heart and soul’.
The Tsar was quick to receive the messenger in his study in the palace on Kamenny Island. Michaud had never set eyes on Moscow before the campaign and knew not a word of Russian, yet he wrote that he was deeply moved when he came before ‘our most gracious sovereign’ with the news of the burning of Moscow, the flames of which had lit up his route.
Though the origins of M. Michaud’s sorrow must have been different from those that lay behind the grief of Russian people, Michaud had such a gloomy look about him when he was shown into the Tsar’s study that the Tsar asked him at once:
‘Do you bring me sad news, Colonel?’
‘Very sad, sire,’ answered Michaud, looking down with a sigh. ‘The surrender of Moscow.’
‘Can they really have surrendered my ancient capital without a fight?’ the Tsar asked sharply, suddenly roused.
Michaud respectfully gave the message Kutuzov had asked him to give: there had been no possibility of fighting just outside Moscow, and since they had been left with a straight choice – either to lose the army and Moscow together or to lose only Moscow – the commander-in-chief had been forced to go for the latter option.
The Tsar listened without a word, avoiding Michaud’s eyes.
‘Is the enemy now inside the city?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sire, and by now the city is reduced to ashes. I left it all in flames,’ said Michaud decisively, but one glance at the Tsar made him feel horrified at what he had done. The Tsar’s breathing was rapid and laboured, his lower lip was quivering, and for one moment his handsome blue eyes were moist with tears.
But this lasted no more than a moment. The Tsar’s sudden frown was a gesture of self-reproach for showing weakness. He looked up and spoke firmly to Michaud.
‘I can see from all that is happening, Colonel, that Providence requires great sacrifices of us. I am ready to submit to His will in all things, but tell me, Michaud, how did you leave the army, seeing my ancient capital abandoned just like that without striking a blow? Did you see any alarm and despondency?’
Once he saw that his most gracious sovereign had regained his composure, Michaud was able to do the same, but the Tsar had asked a straight, factual question calling for a straight answer, and he didn’t have one ready yet.
‘Sire, will you permit me to speak frankly, as a loyal soldier?’ he said, playing for time.
‘Colonel, that is what I always insist upon,’ said the Tsar. ‘Hide nothing from me. I really do want to know how things stand.’
‘Sire!’ said Michaud, with the delicate hint of a smile on his lips now that he had had time to prepare his answer. It was polite, but it involved a little word play. ‘Sire! I left the whole army, from the commanders to the lowest soldier without exception, in fear and trembling.’
‘What can you mean?’ the Tsar cut in with a dark scowl. ‘Would my Russians allow themselves to lose heart in the face of misfortune? . . . Never!’
This was just what Michaud was waiting for to work his little trick.
‘Sire,’ he said, still respectful but now looking rather playful, ‘their only dread is that your Majesty might be persuaded to sue for peace through sheer goodness of heart. They are spoiling for a fight,’ said this representative of the Russian people, ‘and eager to prove their loyalty to your Majesty by laying down their lives . . .’
‘Aha!’ said the Tsar, much reassured, with a gleam of affection in his eyes as he clapped Michaud on the shoulder. ‘Colonel, you put my mind at rest . . .’
The Tsar looked down, and for a while he said nothing.
