________________________________________________
_ After the twenty-eighth of October when the frosts began, the flight
of the French assumed a still more tragic character, with men
freezing, or roasting themselves to death at the campfires, while
carriages with people dressed in furs continued to drive past,
carrying away the property that had been stolen by the Emperor, kings,
and dukes; but the process of the flight and disintegration of the
French army went on essentially as before.
From Moscow to Vyazma the French army of seventy-three thousand
men not reckoning the Guards (who did nothing during the whole war but
pillage) was reduced to thirty-six thousand, though not more than five
thousand had fallen in battle. From this beginning the succeeding
terms of the progression could be determined mathematically. The
French army melted away and perished at the same rate from Moscow to
Vyazma, from Vyazma to Smolensk, from Smolensk to the Berezina, and
from the Berezina to Vilna- independently of the greater or lesser
intensity of the cold, the pursuit, the barring of the way, or any
other particular conditions. Beyond Vyazma the French army instead
of moving in three columns huddled together into one mass, and so went
on to the end. Berthier wrote to his Emperor (we know how far
commanding officers allow themselves to diverge from the truth in
describing the condition of an army) and this is what he said:
I deem it my duty to report to Your Majesty the condition of the
various corps I have had occasion to observe during different stages
of the last two or three days' march. They are almost disbanded.
Scarcely a quarter of the soldiers remain with the standards of
their regiments, the others go off by themselves in different
directions hoping to find food and escape discipline. In general
they regard Smolensk as the place where they hope to recover. During
the last few days many of the men have been seen to throw away their
cartridges and their arms. In such a state of affairs, whatever your
ultimate plans may be, the interest of Your Majesty's service
demands that the army should be rallied at Smolensk and should first
of all be freed from ineffectives, such as dismounted cavalry,
unnecessary baggage, and artillery material that is no longer in
proportion to the present forces. The soldiers, who are worn out
with hunger and fatigue, need these supplies as well as a few days'
rest. Many have died last days on the road or at the bivouacs. This
state of things is continually becoming worse and makes one fear
that unless a prompt remedy is applied the troops will no longer be
under control in case of an engagement.
November 9: twenty miles from Smolensk.
After staggering into Smolensk which seemed to them a promised land,
the French, searching for food, killed one another, sacked their own
stores, and when everything had been plundered fled farther.
They all went without knowing whither or why they were going.
Still less did that genius, Napoleon, know it, for no one issued any
orders to him. But still he and those about him retained their old
habits: wrote commands, letters, reports, and orders of the day;
called one another sire, mon cousin, prince d'Eckmuhl, roi de
Naples, and so on. But these orders and reports were only on paper,
nothing in them was acted upon for they could not be carried out,
and though they entitled one another Majesties, Highnesses, or
Cousins, they all felt that they were miserable wretches who had
done much evil for which they had now to pay. And though they
pretended to be concerned about the army, each was thinking only of
himself and of how to get away quickly and save himself. _
Read next: Book Fourteen: 1812: Chapter 17
Read previous: Book Fourteen: 1812: Chapter 15
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