ree who says the apple fell because he wanted to eat it and prayed for it to fall. Anyone who claims that Napoleon went to Moscow because he wanted to, and eventually lost because Alexander wanted him to lose, will be no more right or wrong than the man who claims that thousands of tons of earth in an undermined hill collapsed because of the last blow from the last pick-axe of the last workman. When it comes to events in history, so-called 'great men' are nothing but labels attached to events; like real labels, they have the least possible connection with events themselves.
Every action they perform, which they take to be self-determined and independent, is in a historical sense quite the opposite; it is interconnected with the whole course of history, and predetermined from eternity.
CHAPTER 2
On the 29th of May Napoleon left Dresden, where he had spent three weeks surrounded by a court made up of princes, dukes, kings and even an emperor. Before leaving, Napoleon spoke pleasantly to the princes, kings and emperor who had earned his favour, and unpleasantly to the kings and princes who had not quite come up to scratch. He presented the Empress of Austria with some diamonds and pearls of his own (which means stolen from other kings). He warmly embraced his Empress, Marie-Louise, who thought of herself as his wife despite the existence of another one back in Paris, and left her behind, as his historian tells us, deeply distressed by the almost unendurable separation. With the diplomats still believing firmly in the possibility of peace and working strenuously towards it, and even though the Emperor Napoleon had just written a personal letter to the Emperor Alexander calling him his 'esteemed brother' and assuring him in good faith that he had no wish to go to war and would always treat him with affection and respect, he set off to join the army, stopping from time to time to issue further instructions guaranteed to speed up the eastward march of his men. Surrounded by pages, adjutants and an armed escort, he was travelling in a comfortable carriage drawn by six horses along the Posen - Thorn - Danzig - Konigsberg road. In each of these towns he was welcomed by thousands of people with a mixture of enthusiasm and anxiety.
The army was moving from west to east, and he was driven in the same direction by continual relays of six horses. On the 10th of June he caught up with the army and spent the night in specially prepared quarters in the Wilkowiski forest, which belonged to a Polish count.
Next day Napoleon drove on ahead of the army as far as the river Niemen, where he put on a Polish uniform and rode out on to the river bank to find a good place for the crossing of the river.
One glimpse of the Cossacks posted on the far bank and the steppe disappearing into the distance, where, far away, lay the holy city of Moscow, capital of an empire just like the Scythian empire invaded by Alexander the Great, and Napoleon ordered an immediate advance, confounding the diplomats and breaking every last rule of strategy, and next day his troops began crossing the Niemen.
Early on the morning of the 12th of June he came out of his tent, which had been pitched that day on the steep left bank of the Niemen, and watched his troops through a telescope as they poured out of the forest and swarmed over three bridges thrown across the river. The troops knew of the Emperor's presence, and were on the look-out for him. When they caught sight of a figure in a greatcoat and hat standing apart from his suite in front of his tent on the opposite hillside, they threw their caps in the air and shouted, 'Long live the Emperor!' And one after another in an unbroken stream they flowed out of the immense forest that had hitherto concealed them and split up at the three bridges to march across. 'Now we'll get somewhere. He'll warm things up when he gets involved. My God he will! . . . There he is! . . . Long live the Emperor! So this is the Steppe-land of Asia! Nasty bit of country, though. Au revoir, Beauche - I'll keep a nice palace for you in Moscow. Goodbye and good luck! . . . Have you seen the Emperor? Long live the Emperor! . . . ror . . . ror! When I'm Governor of the Indies, Gerard, I'll make you Minister for Kashmir - you can count on it. Long live the Emperor! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Cossack rabble, look at 'em running away! Long live the Emperor! There he is! Can't you see him? I've seen him twice, as close as you and me. The little corporal . . . Saw him giving the cross to one of the veterans . . . Long live the Emperor!' Voices rang out on all sides, from old and young, people of every character and social standing. And all their faces looked the same, blissfully happy as they set out at last on the long-awaited campaign, glowing with enthusiasm and devotion to the man in the grey coat up on the hill.
On the 13th of June Napoleon mounted a small thoroughbred Arab horse and galloped down towards one of the bridges over the Niemen to deafening roars of acclamation, which he obviously had to put up with, because there was no way of silencing men determined to express their love for him by roaring their heads off. But all this shouting, which accompanied him wherever he went, was hard to bear, and it distracted him from the military considerations that had dogged him ever since he had joined up with the army. He rode across a bobbing pontoon bridge to the other side of the river, turned sharp left and galloped off towards Kovno, preceded by ecstatic horse guards breathless with delight as they galloped on ahead to clear the way. When he got to the broad river Wilja, he pulled up alongside a regiment of Polish uhlans deployed on the bank.
'Long live the Emperor!' roared the Poles with the same kind of wild enthusiasm, breaking ranks and jostling to get a glimpse of him. Napoleon took a long look up and down the river, got off his horse and sat down on a log lying on the bank. At a silent signal from him he was handed a telescope, which he rested on the back of a page only too pleased to run over and help. After studying the far bank he looked down and concentrated all his attention on a map spread out between the logs. Without looking up again he said something, and two of his adjutants galloped off towards the Polish uhlans.
'What was that? What did he say?' came the cry from the Polish ranks as an adjutant galloped over to them. The order was to find a fording-place and cross the river. The elderly Polish colonel, a fine figure of a man, blushed and stammered from sheer excitement as he asked permission to swim straight across the river without bothering to find a ford. In fear and trembling at the very thought of a refusal, like a little boy asking permission to get on a horse, he asked them to let him swim across the river before the Emperor's eyes. The adjutant told him the Emperor would probably not be displeased at such an excessive display of zeal.
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.
It was a glittering, happy occasion. According to the connoisseurs rarely had so many beautiful women been gathered together in one place. Countess Bezukhov, one of the Russian ladies who had followed the Tsar from Petersburg to Vilna, was there, and her massive charms - what people liked to call her Russian beauty - put the more dainty Polish ladies in the shade. She got herself noticed, and the Tsar favoured her with an invitation to dance.
Boris Drubetskoy ('one of the boys again', as he liked to put it), having left his wife behind in Moscow, was also there; although not a staff general himself, he had subscribed a large sum towards the ball. Boris was now rich in money and honours, and had no further need of patronage, being on equal terms with the most distinguished men of his generation.
They were still dancing at midnight. Finding herself without a suitable partner for the mazurka, Helene herself offered to dance with Boris. They made up the third couple. Boris allowed his cool gaze to stray towards Helene's naked shoulders, emerging so splendidly from a dark-coloured, gold-embroidered gauze dress, as he chatted about old acquaintances, but, although no one was aware of it, least of all Boris himself, he never took his eyes off the Tsar while he was there in the same room. The Tsar was not dancing; he was standing in the doorway, stopping people at random with the kind of gracious remark that only he could utter.
At the beginning of the mazurka, Boris watched as a staff general, Balashev, one of the Tsar's closest confidants, went over and defied court etiquette by stopping near by while his Majesty was still in conversation with a Polish lady. After saying a few more words to the lady, the Tsar glanced quizzically at Balashev, and then, suddenly aware there must be a good reason for him to behave like this, he nodded gently to the lady and gave Balashev his full attention. The first words were hardly out of Balashev's mouth when a look of astonishment came over the Tsar's face. He took Balashev by the arm and walked across the room with him, unconsciously clearing a swathe several yards wide as people drew back on either side. Boris could see that Arakcheyev's face displayed the same excitement as the Tsar walked away with Balashev. Arakcheyev glanced rather furtively at the Tsar, sniffing with his red nose, and edged forward out of the crowd as if he was expecting the Tsar to turn in his direction. (Boris observed that Arakcheyev, already jealous of Balashev, was annoyed to see any piece of news, let alone something of obvious importance, reach the Tsar without going through him.) But the Tsar and Balashev walked straight past Arakcheyev without noticing him and went out through the door into the illuminated garden. Arakcheyev, grasping his sword and staring around balefully, followed on twenty paces behind.
Boris worked his way through the figures of the mazurka in a state of anguish, wondering what news Balashev could possibly have brought, and how he could find out before anyone else did. When they came to the figure in which he had to choose his ladies, he whispered to Helene that he wanted to choose Countess Potocka, who seemed to have gone out on to the balcony, and gliding over the dance-floor he flew across to the doorway into the garden, from where he could see the Tsar and Balashev coming back on to the terrace, and this stopped him in his tracks. The Tsar and Balashev were heading for the doorway. Boris bustled about as if he couldn't quite get out of the way, squeezing back respectfully against the door-post with his head bowed. The Tsar was coming to the end of an outburst that made him sound like someone who had been personally offended. 'Entering Russia without declaring war!' he was saying. 'I shall not make peace until every last enemy under arms has left my country.'
Boris had the impression that the Tsar had enjoyed saying these words, and was happy with the way his thoughts had come out, but not at all happy that Boris had overheard them.
'Nobody must know about this!' the Tsar added, with a scowl.
Boris could tell this was directed at him, so he closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly again. The Tsar went back into the ballroom and stayed there for another half-hour or so. Boris had become the first person to hear the news that French troops had crossed the Niemen, which now gave him a golden opportunity to demonstrate for the benefit of certain very important people that he had access to many things that were hidden from others, and thus an opportunity to rise even higher in the esteem of these persons.
The unexpected news that the French had crossed the Niemen was unexpected largely because it came at the end of a month's unfulfilled expectations, and at a ball! At the first moment of indignation and resentment after hearing the news, Alexander had hit on the pronouncement that has since become famous - one that appealed to him as a true expression of his feelings. Returning home after the ball at two in the morning, the Tsar sent for his secretary Shishkov4 - and told him to write an order to the troops and an open letter to Field-Marshal Prince Saltykov, with the necessary inclusion of words to the effect that he would never make peace until every last enemy under arms had left Russian soil.
Next day the following letter was written, in French, to Napoleon: Esteemed brother,
I learnt yesterday that, notwithstanding the fidelity with which I have met my obligations towards your Majesty, your troops have crossed the frontiers of Russia, and I have this moment received from Petersburg a note in which Count Lauriston advises me with reference to this invasion that your Majesty has considered himself to be in a state of war with me ever since Prince Kurakin asked for his passports. The reasons given by the Duke of Bassano for refusing to release the passports would never have led me to suppose that this incident could ever have served as grounds for aggression. In point of fact, he never received any authorization for his action, as he himself has acknowledged, and as soon as I was informed of it I immediately acquainted him with the full extent of my disapproval by ordering him to remain in post. If your Majesty is not seeking to shed the blood of our subjects over a misunderstanding of this kind, and will consent to withdraw his troops from Russian territory, I shall disregard what has occurred, and an accommodation between us will be possible. In the contrary case, I shall be compelled to repulse an invasion which has been entirely unprovoked on my side. It is still within your Majesty's power to preserve humanity from the disasters of another war.
I am, etc.,
(Signed) ALEXANDER.
CHAPTER 4
At two o'clock in the morning on the 14th of June the Tsar sent for Balashev, read out his letter to Napoleon, and ordered him to take the letter and deliver it personally to the French Emperor. As he sent Balashev on his way, he repeated his words about not making peace until every last enemy under arms had left Russian soil, and told him he must be absolutely certain to communicate those words to Napoleon. The Tsar had not included them in his letter to Napoleon because he felt with his usual sensitivity that any such words would be out of place at a time when one last attempt at conciliation was being made, but he told Balashev he must be absolutely certain to communicate them to Napoleon in person.
Balashev rode off in the early hours of the 14th, with a bugler and two Cossacks in attendance, and by dawn he had reached the French outposts at the village of Rykonty on the Russian side of the Niemen. He was stopped by the French cavalry sentries.
A French hussar subaltern in crimson uniform and shaggy cap challenged Bala