Diary of a Napoleonic Footsoldier (10 page)

12. T
HIS FOLDING MAP OF THE CITY OF
M
OSCOW IS A REMARKABLE FEATURE OF THE
1813
EDITION OF
T
HE
R
USSIANS AND
N
APOLEON
B
ONAPARTE
BY
B
ULGAKOV
. L
IGHT
-
SHADED AREAS INDICATE PARTS OF THE CITY DAMAGED BY FIRE DURING
N
APOLEON’S RETREAT
. T
HE KEY AT THE LOWER RIGHT DIVIDES THE CITY INTO TWENTY DISTRICTS
,
SHOWING THE NUMBER OF HOUSES DESTROYED IN EACH
.

In times when death was near, God sent me help again and again. After midnight, when we pitched camp again following the above-mentioned pursuit by the Russians, a little village stood a quarter of an hour off the highway, and I crept with my master and two horses into a stable that still had a roof. There I saw hanging on a cord behind a grate a smoked pig’s head. As if received from the hand of God, I took it off from the cord with a prayer of thanks. I, my master, and my fellow servant ate it with unbelievable appetite, and we felt life come to us again. Then I always thought: “If even a few should get to German soil, it is possible that I with God’s help might also reach there.” In these days it snowed for the first time, and the snow remained. The cold arrived at the same time, too, and the freezing of the people multiplied the number of the dead. No one could walk fifty paces without seeing men stretched out half or completely dead. According to Napoleon’s scheme we were to strike leftward toward Galicia. The Russian, however, hindered us and drove us past Vereia and Verina and to the right into our old, desolate highway.

Finally we went over the battlefield at Moshaisk in the Holy Valley. Here one saw again in what numbers the dead lay. From the battle site on to this place the corpses were dragged from the highways, and entire hollows were filled with them. Gun barrels lay one on top of another in many piles from fifteen to twenty feet in height and in width where we bivouacked for the night.

Here God once more came to my help in a wondrous
way. As I sought to fetch water in the night with my field flask, I came to a lake in which a hole had been chopped through the ice, and I drew my water with much effort because of the pressure of those standing around. On the way back, a round ball resembling a dead sheep was lying on the ground. I picked it up and in astonished joy unwrapped a rolled-up Crimean fur that reached from my head down to my feet, besides having a perculiar collar which could be clapped over my head. With my eyes turned to heaven I prayed again to God and gave thanks for the abundant mercy which I had received just when help was obviously most necessary.

I hurried to my major and had already put on the fur. He saw me and called out loudly, “Aye, God! What do you have on?” “A fur, Major, that I found just now. Now I’ve at least a covering.” “Oh,” he said, “I’ll give you my fur. It’s also a good one. If we get home, then you can have it back again, or I’ll pay you enough for it.” Thus I took his fur, which was also beautiful, having a green silk lining so that it could be worn right side out or inside out. The next morning everyone hurried on his flight, and no one wanted to be the last.

We now came to Gshatsk, and this town was already in flames. Here again many cannon were thrown into the water and part of them buried. The pressure was so frightful that I and my major lost each other. Now I had the second horse to myself, and we could not find each other again that day, nor even for another ten days.

Thus in the evening I rode apart from the army to find in the outlying district some straw for the horse and rye for myself. I was not alone, for over a strip ten hours’
wide soldiers sought provisions because of their hunger; and, when there was nothing to be found, they could hunt up cabbage stalks here and there from under the snow, cut off some of the pulp from these, and let the core slowly thaw out in their mouths. Nevertheless, this time I had a second considerable piece of luck. I came to a village not yet burned where there were still sheaves of grain. I laid these before the horse and plucked off several heads of grain. I hulled them, laid the kernels mixed with chaff into a hand grinder which had been left in a house, and, taking turns with several other soldiers, ground some flour. Then we laid the dough, which we rolled into only fist-sized little loaves, on a bed of coals. Although the outside of the loaves burned to charcoal, the bread inside could be eaten. I got as many as fifteen such balls.

For further supply, whenever I came upon sheaves of grain, I picked the heads, rubbed off the kernels, and ate them from my bread sack during the course of the day. Several times I also found hempseed, which I likewise ate raw out of my pocket; and cooked hempseed was a delicacy for me because the grains burst open and produced an oily sauce; yet since I could not get salt for cooking, it did not have its full strength.

When this good night was half over, I laid four sheaves over my saddle and rode to the head of the army as usual. Toward the next night, however, in order to make a fire again, I rode off the highway. Wading in the deep snow was too hard for my horse; so I took a peasant’s sled, which had only two slabs of bark for boards, put a collar made from a sack around the horse’s neck, and tied two ropes from there to the sled. As I drove on again
the same night, I had to cross a river about sixty feet wide, over which only four or five poles lay. I, therefore, knew of no other means than to carry the sled over on the poles and to force the horse to swim across. Accordingly I carried the emptied sled across successfully, although my feet went knee-deep into the water because the poles sank. I brought the horse, which could swim well, being of a Russian breed, to the sled again, and drove on. At this river I met a man by the name of Wittenhöfer, from my native village, who was already deathly weak. I let him ride. He died after a few days.

I continued, then, this sled-riding through the burned cities of Viasma, Semlevo, and Dorogobush without finding my master. Once, while I was eating some of my aforementioned bread, several Frenchmen saw me. These inhuman men surrounded me with the pretext of buying bread; and, when the word “bread” was mentioned, everyone bolted at me, so that I thought my death was near; but through an extraordinary chance there came along some Germans, whom I now called to my aid. They struck at my horse so that most of the Frenchmen fell back from me and then were entirely beaten off.

Among these Germans were two sergeants from my regiment called N. and N. After I was free, they took my bread and walked away. Not they, I could see now, but rather their hunger and my bread were both my redeemers and, at the same time, my robbers. Although I had already given them a loaf, they robbed me! But this, my dear readers, is to be judged otherwise than you think. There are stories in which people have murdered and eaten each other on account of hunger, but certainly
this incident was still a long way from murder. Since starvation had risen to a high degree, why could not such a thing happen? And, besides that, much of the humanity of man had already vanished because of hunger. Indeed, I even heard at that time that several men had been murdered for the sake of bread. I myself could look cold-bloodedly into the lamenting faces of the wounded, the freezing, and the burned, as I shall tell later, and think of other things.

We arrived at Smolensk on November 12, having made, from Moscow to that city, 26 days and nights of travel without pausing a day. If we traveled only twelve hours daily, then we had retreated 312 hours up to Smolensk.

13. C
OLORFUL WOODCUT
,
DRAWN BY
C
ONRAD
O
PPERMAN AND ENGRAVED BY
F
RIEDRICH
N
EYER
,
OF AN AGITATED
N
APOLEON AS A VANQUISHED
N
ERO
. F
ATHER
T
IME
,
SCYTHE IN HAND
,
DRAWS THE
“
FINAL CURTAIN
”
ON BOTH THE
E
MPEROR AND THE MOST OBVIOUS SYMBOL OF HIS FAILED CAMPAIGN
,
THE CITY OF
M
OSCOW IN FLAMES
.

When I arrived at Smolensk, it was raining rather heavily, and my sled could be pulled only with great effort. When I came toward the city, the crowd was so dense that for hours I could not penetrate into the column, for the guard [i.e., Imperial Guard] and the artillery with the help of the gendarmes knocked everyone out of the way, right and left. With effort I finally pressed through, holding my horse by the head, and accompanied by sword blows I passed over the bridge. In front of the city gate I and my regiment, now disorganized, moved to the right toward the city wall beside the Dnieper River. Here we settled down and had to camp for two days. As had been reported to us beforehand, we were to engage in battle with the enemy here and also to get bread and flour from the warehouses. Neither of the two reports, however, proved to be true. The distress mounted higher and higher, and horses were shot and eaten. Because I could not get even a piece of meat and my hunger became too violent, I took along the pot I carried, stationed myself beside a horse that was being shot, and caught up the blood from its breast. I set this blood on the fire, let it coagulate, and ate the lumps without salt.

While we tarried two days at Smolensk, the Russians advanced and awaited us at Minsk. Everyone hastily fled. Cannon were thrown into the water. The hospitals were nearly all left to the enemy; and, as was commonly rumored, the hospitals were set afire and burned with their inmates. This is more credible when one considers the treatment of the captured Russians; for, when we were victors over the Russians, whole columns of captives were transported past us, and anyone who stayed behind because
of weakness and fell back as far as the rear guard was shot in the neck so that his brain always crashed down beside him. Thus every fifty to a hundred paces I saw another who had been shot with his head still smoking. All this was done to make our passage safe, so that no robber corps could be formed behind us. Very few of the captives, however, were saved from starvation.

Now, as the march went on, I had to leave my sled behind and to lay my baggage on the horse, upon which I also mounted often during the day. The cold increased again that same day, and the road became as smooth as a mirror from the rain so that the horses fell down in great numbers and could not get up again. Since my horse was a native of the country, it had no horseshoes and could always help itself up again when it had fallen. It had even the good custom, whenever we went downhill, of sitting down on its rump, bracing its front feet forward, and sliding into the valley in this fashion without my dismounting. Other German horses, though, had shoes which were ground entirely smooth and for this reason could not keep themselves from slipping; nor could these irons be torn off, since no one had a tool for that.

Until now I had not seen my major again and believed nothing else than that he must be dead. I always cared for my horse by riding out at night where some village blazed brightly, in order to get some rye sheaves for the horse and rye grains for myself. I often could not get feed for four or five days, but my “
Goniak
” [trotter] was indifferent if only from time to time he could get some old straw from the camp or some thatch straw from
a burned house, nor could I notice that he was getting thin. If I found some rest at night, I served as a crib for him. I always hung the halter strap on my arm or foot so that I could notice any attempts to take him away. I laid myself squarely before his feet; and, when he had something to eat, he ground away with his teeth for a short time. When he had nothing, he sniffed and snorted all over me. Not once did his hoof touch me. At the most he pressed my fur coat a little. Unless you tied your horse to yourself, the horse was stolen immediately.

After leaving Smolensk, we arrived on November 16, amid a thousand kinds of danger at Krasnoë, where the Russians received us, having in the meantime circled around to our front. Here the French Guard, with the remaining armed forces that could still be brought together, took its position along the highway and kept up the firing against the enemy as well as possible. Although the enemy had to yield, any movements on our part drew vigorous firing upon us. Unfortunately, all the time the greatest misery fell upon the poor sick, who usually had to be thrown from the wagons just to keep us from losing horses and wagons entirely and who were left to freeze among the enemies, for whoever remained lying behind could not hope to be rescued.