The Burning of Moscow

Evgenii Tarle, Napoleon's Invasion of Russia, 1812. 1942

The French and the Russian armies withdrew a short distance from the battlefield and remained inactive for several hours while the results of the carnage were being computed.

One corps commander after another, one adjutant after another reported to Kutuzov, and what they had to say was so terrible that the old Field Marshal definitely decided to surrender Moscow without any further attempt to halt the invader. He realized that now he could surrender the capital without another battle. The Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Corps had been destroyed almost in their entirety. Other units suffered considerable losses. At the same time, Kutuzov learned that Napoleon's Guard was intact because it had taken no part in the battle. On 8 September, Kutuzov also learned that Napoleon was moving his right wing round the Russian left wing. To stand without giving battle was becoming impossible, and to fight immediately was equally impossible. Kutuzov decided to retreat towards Moscow.

Supplementary reports came pouring in throughout the day.

On the morning of 8 September, the Field Marshal ordered his army to withdraw from Borodino on the direct road to Moscow. This was the beginning of the ingeniously conceived and brilliantly executed tactical march towards Tarutino, one of the Field Marshal's greatest achievements.

Kutuzov retreated from Borodino on the route that led through Mozhaisk, Zemlino, Luzhinskoe, Nara, Viazma, and Mamonovo.

At noon of 8 September, the day following Borodino, Napoleon ordered Murat to pursue the Russians with his entire cavalry. To Murat's right, Poniatowski's corps marched towards Borisovo; to the left was Eugene, Viceroy of Italy, moving in the direction of Ruza; while almost directly behind Murat, upon that same Moscow trunk road, aiming straight for Mozhaisk, proceeded the corps of Ney and Davout, behind them the Young Guard, and finally the Old Guard with Napoleon himself. The remaining forces marched behind the Old Guard.

What happened to thousands of wounded in Smolensk was repeated on a much larger scale after Borodino. A great number of Russians and Frenchmen were left to the mercy of fate and burned alive. According to an officer of the Grand Army, I the battlefield was a terrible sight. There was almost no sanitary service or activity. All the villages and habitations close to the Moscow road were packed to the full with wounded in the most helpless state. The villages were destroyed by ceaseless chronic conflagrations, which raged in the regions occupied or traversed by the French army. Those of the wounded who succeeded in saving themselves from the flames crawled by the thousands along the great road, seeking means to prolong their pitiful existence.

Armed peasants ruthlessly disposed of the lagging Frenchmen. It goes without saying that the French summarily executed Russian peasants suspected of such activities.

During these fateful days the bitterness of the people grew by the hour, and the Field Marshal had to take this into consideration. He decided not to reveal at once his plan of surrendering Moscow.

During these six days, 8 to 14 September, between the retreat from Borodino and the occupation of Moscow by the French, Kutuzov pretended that he meant to give a new battle and was only looking for a good position; he did not cease uttering words to which he himself attached no significance.

'Kutuzov never intended to give a battle on the second day, his words were only a matter of policy. "At night I and Toll made a tour of the position, on which our exhausted warriors slept like dead, and he [Toll] reported that it was impossible to think of going forward, much less of defending the position, previously occupied by 96,000 men, with only 45,000, especially as Napoleon still had his entire Guard which had not fought at Borodino." Kutuzov knew all this, but he awaited this report and gave the order for prompt retirement only after receiving it.' This statement was made by Kutuzov's orderly, Prince Golitsyn, who spent the entire night after Borodino visiting the bloody field.

Murat with his cavalry pressed hard on the Russian rear-guard, 'throwing the rear-guard upon the army,' said Wintzengerode. On the third day after Borodino, 9 September, word came that Napoleon had ordered Viceroy Eugene to march with four infantry divisions and twelve cavalry regiments to Ruza. This move threatened to outflank the right wing of the retreating Russian army.

Apparently Kutuzov thought he had at least to give the impression that a battle was being waged for Moscow. On 13 September, as Miloradovich was retiring with his rear-guard under severe pressure of the main French forces, a paper from Ermolov reached him. It conveyed Kutuzov's order that Moscow be surrendered, but suggested to Miloradovich 'that he honor the ancient capital with a show of battle before its walls.' 'This expression aroused the indignation of Miloradovich,' says A. A. Shcherbinin, who was close to him at the time. He thought it a Machiavellian device and attributed it to Ermolov. If Miloradovich had engaged the mass of Napoleon's forces and had been defeated, as was inevitable, he would have been told: 'We ordered only a maneuver, a show of battle.'

Contemporaries were at a complete loss when faced by this contradiction between Kutuzov's words and actions after Borodino. 'I cannot understand,' wrote M. I. Volkova to her friend V. I. Lanskaia, 'how this unfortunate battle could rejoice you even for an instant. Although, according to participants (I have met a few) the battle was not a defeat, on the following day its consequences were clear to everyone. The news has been published in Moscow, and has reached us, that after the terrible bloodshed on both sides, the weakened enemy retired a distance of eight versts, but that on the following day the Russians would victoriously conclude the battle by attacking the French and forcing them to a final retreat-this was the text of Kutuzov's official letter to Rostopchin, which appeared in print. But instead, our forces began to retire on the twenty-seventh, and to this moment no one knows the cause of this unexpected retirement. There is a mystery hidden here. We may one day learn it, or we may not; but what is true and beyond doubt is that there is some important reason which made Kutuzov change his plan, so Solemnly announced on 26 September.'

The Russian army, all that remained of it after Borodino, was now fairly close to Moscow. The moment came to proclaim immediately and unequivocally that Moscow would be yielded to Napoleon without a new battle. Kutuzov was riot very sure of his generals. Ever since Borodino, Bennigsen, who had been forced upon him by Alexander, had, with a great show of patriotic phrases, harped on the inadmissibility of surrendering Moscow. From Ermolov, who was insincere, double-dealing, always a sort of snake in the grass, never really sympathetic to the Field Marshal, it was difficult to expect much support. Konovnitsin and Dokhturov also sided with Bennigsen on this point. Barclay might have helped him, but during these days he was full of bitterness. After his replacement by Kutuzov, Barclay spoke sincerely only to his wife. But to his indignation, his letters were intercepted. 'I cannot understand why you have not received the letters I wrote you after the battle of the 26th [i.e. Borodino] and sent by the same courier who was bearing a letter from Kutuzov to his wife. I cannot understand how it is possible to detain family letters. It is an infamy, added to the others which have been heaped on me!'

In these letters to his wife, Barclay asserts that he alone had saved the army before Borodino, and that at the moment of his replacement he was in a particularly good position and stood ready to battle with the advancing French. The subsequent letters to his wife, which have come down to us, were sent through the English commissioner with Kutuzov; in them, he is less restrained. 'I ask of you one mercy; deliver me from here, I don't care by what means ... ' 'Should they make no effort to atone for the wrong done me, and a great wrong it was, I have decided not to risk my life, as it only brings further humiliation upon me.'

The Russians entered the village of Fili. At four o'clock in the afternoon of 13 September, in the house of the peasant Sevastianov, Kutuzov called a conference of the most important generals: Bennigsen, Barclay de Tolly, Platov, Dokhturov, Uvarov, Raevskii, Osterman, Konovnitsin, Ermolov, Toll, and Lanskoi were present. Miloradovich, however, never left his rear-guard, which was keeping an eye on the advancing French.

Kutuzov threw the question open to discussion: should the army fight another battle or retire beyond Moscow, giving up the city to Napoleon? At the very start he expressed the opinion he had hitherto concealed: 'As long as the army exists and is in condition to oppose the enemy, we preserve the hope of winning the war; but if the army is destroyed, Moscow and Russia will perish.'

Bennigsen expressed himself in favor of a battle, Barclay in favor of retirement. Dokhturov, Uvarov, and Konovnitsin supported Bennigsen. Ermolov also supported him with a few meaningless, purely verbal reservations. No minutes were kept, and it is not clear what opinions were expressed by Platov, Raevskii, Osterman, and Lanskoi. The council lasted only a little over an hour. The Field Marshal apparently broke up the meeting in a manner surprising to all present; he suddenly rose and announced that his order was for retirement.

We have one other report of the meeting at Fili. England had been eagerly awaiting accurate news of Borodino. One of the first circumstantial reports to reach England was a letter received by Count S. P. Vorontsov whose son had been wounded in the battle. 'The day of Borodino was not decisive for either army. The losses must have been about the same on both sides. The Russian losses are painful because the great number of officers killed and wounded must inevitably lead to disorganization of the regiments.' This letter also gives a few details of the military council at Fili: Osterman asked Bennigsen if he could guarantee success in the event of a new battle before Moscow; Bennigsen replied that only a madman would answer such a question with any positive ness. At this council, Kutuzov said among other things: 'You fear a retreat through Moscow, but I regard it as farsighted, because it will save the army. Napoleon is like a stormy torrent which we are as yet unable to stop. Moscow will be the sponge that will suck him in.'-'By the authority granted me by the Tsar and the Fatherland, I command retirement.' These were his final words and with them he left the house. But it was clear to all who observed him that he was depressed by what he had done.

During the remaining hours of that day, Kutuzov spoke to no one. He returned to the peasant's house for the night, but did not sleep. Several times in the night he was heard weeping. At this moment, no one supported him-Barclay's agreement with him was purely negative. Ermolov, who but a few hours before the council had been in favor of retirement, had switched to Bennigsen's side. Kutuzov understood that he was now regarded as a leper-like Barclay before Tsarevo-Zaimishche. Knowing men as he did, Kutuzov could scarcely count on anyone to support him before the most powerful of his enemies, who was in the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg. But not even his enemies ascribed his distress to personal fear or shame. His whole subsequent behavior showed that he followed only the dictates of his conscience, that he acted far more independently than ever before in his life, and certainly had no fear of irritating the Tsar. His intimates explained his tears that night by his agony over Moscow and his fear for Russia. Against his one utterance that the loss of Moscow did not mean the loss of Russia, they recalled several earlier assertions that the loss of Moscow did mean the loss of Russia. On 30 August he had written to Rostopchin from Gzhatsk: 'In my opinion, the loss of Moscow means the loss of Russia.' And everyone knew these words. He had plenty to think about on this sleepless night.

At nightfall of 13 September the army learned of the Field Marshal's decision. 'The dejection was general,' writes a witness.

The officers and soldiers were completely confused after all Kutuzov's categorical announcements that Moscow would be defended to the last. 'I remember that when Lindel, my adjutant, brought the order for the surrender of Moscow, everyone was seized with consternation: many wept, others tore off their uniforms and threatened to resign from the service after this humiliating surrender, or abandonment, of Moscow. My General Borozdin definitely regarded the command as a piece of treason and did not move from the spot until General Dokhturov arrived to replace him. By daybreak we were in Moscow. Its inhabitants, as yet unaware of their imminent misfortune, received us as deliverers, but when they learned the truth, swept after us almost in a body. This was no longer the march of an army, but the transportation of whole nations from one end of the world to the other.'

On 12 September, the vanguard of the Russian army had halted at Poklonnaia Hill, about two versts from Dorogomilov Gate. An endless stream of carriages and carts, thousands upon thousands of riders and pedestrians were leaving Moscow, despite rumors that Kutuzov was preparing another battle-in fact, only a few knew of the decision taken on 13 September at the council of generals, which had met at Fili.

The authorities had learned that three basic opinions, precise practical suggestions, had been expressed at the council: Bennigsen had suggested a new battle to save Moscow; Barclay had suggested retirement to the city of Vladimir; and a few others favored retirement to Tver, to hinder Napoleon's advance on St. Petersburg. They knew that Kutuzov had concluded the meeting by announcing that he would give no battle, but withdraw, yielding Moscow to Napoleon. He decided, however, not to retreat northward, but towards the old Kaluga road. In accordance with this plan, the Russian troops were ordered to advance along the Moscow streets towards Kolomna Gate. From the early morning of 14 September the Russian army marched through the capital. At daybreak the first formations of the retreating army had entered Moscow and, by way of the Arbat and a few parallel streets, went towards Yauza Bridge in the southeastern part of the city.

Frightened, confused, silent throngs of those Muscovites who had not yet been able to leave crowded the streets and public squares, watching the departing troops. The soldiers marched gloomily, silently, with their eyes downcast. Witnesses tell us that some among the rank-and-file were weeping.

The first units of the retreating Russian army were still crossing Yauza Bridge when General Miloradovich, in command of the rear-guard, received news that the French cavalry was entering Moscow through Dorogomilov Gate.

Miloradovich, and General Kaptsevich, whose regiment bore up the rear, had difficulty in eluding the advancing Murat. Miloradovich received one report after another that the enemy was striving to cut off the rearguard from the city. In other words, two cavalry corps, ten Cossack regiments, and twelve guns of mounted artillery were threatened with capture. Miloradovich succeeded in communicating with Murat. He convinced him that the people of Moscow would fight desperately with the troops if the French did not allow the Russian army to pass unmolested through Moscow, and thus he managed to hold Murat for four hours at a spot seven versts from Moscow; the rear-guard entered Moscow and passed through without further hindrance.

All this enabled thousands upon thousands of inhabitants to evacuate Moscow, but it saved neither the arsenal, where 'fine new rifles fell into enemy hands,' nor the depots and stores of grain, cloth, and other army supplies.

Two battalions of the Moscow garrison, merging with the main army as it passed the Kremlin, left the city amidst martial music. 'What rascal told your band to play?' shouted Miloradovich to the commander of the garrison, Lieutenant-General Brozin. Brozin replied that according to a regulation made by Peter the Great, a garrison leaving a fortress must play music. 'But where do the regulations of Peter the Great provide for the surrender of Moscow?' shouted Miloradovich. 'Will you please order that music to stop!'

In an endless stream, the Russian army marched through Moscow. Kutuzov glanced at his taciturn suite and said: 'Who among you knows Moscow?' Only one man responded. It was his orderly, the 20-year-old Prince Golitsyn. 'Lead me by a route where I won't meet anyone.' Kutuzov rode from the Arbat through the boulevards as far as Yauza Bridge, across which the army was retiring, followed by the countless mass of the inhabitants. And here he met the man he had been most anxious to avoid. Rostopchin was on the bridge, trying to maintain order. It was a dry encounter. Rostopchin began to speak, but Kutuzov did not reply. He ordered the bridge to be cleared as quickly as possible for the passage of troops. Then he dismounted and took his place in a drozhky. 'On leaving Moscow, the Prince turned his drozhky towards the city and leaned his head, grown gray in battle, on his elbows. He gazed coolly upon the capital and upon the troops that went past him with downcast eyes, and for the first time they did not cry "Hurrah!" when they saw him.'

That day and night and the following day, endless human streams poured out of Moscow across Yauza Bridge. Kutuzov ordered the Russian army to the south, towards Krasnaia Pakhra, and from Krasnaia Pakhra to the old Kaluga road. That evening in the village of Upa he sat drinking tea, surrounded by peasants. Suddenly, in terror, they pointed to the distant glow of burning Moscow. Kutuzov, striking the cap upon his head, said: "Yes, it's a pity. But just wait. I'll smash his head ..."

Source: Evgenii Tarle, Napoleon's Invasion of Russia, 1812 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1942), pp. 205-215.