War and Peace

he famous flank movement merely consisted in this: after the advance
of the French had ceased, the Russian army, which had been continually
retreating straight back from the invaders, deviated from that direct
course and, not finding itself pursued, was naturally drawn toward the
district where supplies were abundant.

If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading the
Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could not
have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, describing
an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be found and where
the country was richest.

That movement from the Nízhni to the Ryazán, Túla, and Kalúga roads was
so natural that even the Russian marauders moved in that direction, and
demands were sent from Petersburg for Kutúzov to take his army that
way. At Tarútino Kutúzov received what was almost a reprimand from
the Emperor for having moved his army along the Ryazán road, and the
Emperor’s letter indicated to him the very position he had already
occupied near Kalúga.

Having rolled like a ball in the direction of the impetus given by the
whole campaign and by the battle of Borodinó, the Russian army—when
the strength of that impetus was exhausted and no fresh push was
received—assumed the position natural to it.

Kutúzov’s merit lay, not in any strategic maneuver of genius, as it is
called, but in the fact that he alone understood the significance of
what had happened. He alone then understood the meaning of the French
army’s inactivity, he alone continued to assert that the battle of
Borodinó had been a victory, he alone—who as commander in chief might
have been expected to be eager to attack—employed his whole strength to
restrain the Russian army from useless engagements.

The beast wounded at Borodinó was lying where the fleeing hunter had
left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and
merely lying low, the hunter did not know. Suddenly the beast was heard
to moan.

The moan of that wounded beast (the French army) which betrayed its
calamitous condition was the sending of Lauriston to Kutúzov’s camp with
overtures for peace.

Napoleon, with his usual assurance that whatever entered his head was
right, wrote to Kutúzov the first words that occurred to him, though
they were meaningless.

MONSIEUR LE PRINCE KOUTOUZOV: I am sending one of my adjutants-general
to discuss several interesting questions with you. I beg your Highness
to credit what he says to you, especially when he expresses the
sentiment of esteem and special regard I have long entertained for your
person. This letter having no other object, I pray God, monsieur le
prince Koutouzov, to keep you in His holy and gracious protection!

NAPOLEON

MOSCOW, OCTOBER 30, 1812

Kutúzov replied: “I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on as
the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present spirit
of my nation.” But he continued to exert all his powers to restrain his
troops from attacking.

During the month that the French troops were pillaging in Moscow and
the Russian troops were quietly encamped at Tarútino, a change had taken
place in the relative strength of the two armies—both in spirit and in
number—as a result of which the superiority had passed to the Russian
side. Though the condition and numbers of the French army were unknown
to the Russians, as soon as that change occurred the need of attacking
at once showed itself by countless signs. These signs were: Lauriston’s
mission; the abundance of provisions at Tarútino; the reports coming in
from all sides of the inactivity and disorder of the French; the flow of
recruits to our regiments; the fine weather; the long rest the Russian
soldiers had enjoyed, and the impatience to do what they had been
assembled for, which usually shows itself in an army that has been
resting; curiosity as to what the French army, so long lost sight of,
was doing; the boldness with which our outposts now scouted close up to
the French stationed at Tarútino; the news of easy successes gained by
peasants and guerrilla troops over the French, the envy aroused by this;
the desire for revenge that lay in the heart of every Russian as long as
the French were in Moscow, and (above all) a dim consciousness in every
soldier’s mind that the relative strength of the armies had changed and
that the advantage was now on our side. There was a substantial change
in the relative strength, and an advance had become inevitable. And at
once, as a clock begins to strike and chime as soon as the minute hand
has completed a full circle, this change was shown by an increased
activity, whirring, and chiming in the higher spheres.