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Title: The Two Great Retreats of History

Author: George Grote
        Count Philippe-Paul de Ségur

Editor: David Henry Montgomery

Release Date: August 22, 2008 [EBook #26390]

Language: English

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  THE

  TWO GREAT RETREATS OF HISTORY.


   I. THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND.

  II. NAPOLEON'S RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.




  _WITH INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES_

  By

  D. H. M.




  BOSTON, U.S.A.: PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY. 1889.




  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by

  GINN & COMPANY,

  in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.


  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.




  TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. CUSHING & CO., BOSTON, U.S.A.




PREFATORY NOTE.


The two following selections contain, first, Grote's account of the
Retreat of the Ten Thousand Greeks, taken from his "History of Greece,"
and, secondly, an abridgment of Count Ségur's narrative of Napoleon's
retreat from Russia.

Grote's History, based on Xenophon's, is given entire, with the
exception that, in a very few instances, some slight verbal change has
been made in order to better adapt the work to school use.

Two maps are furnished, an introduction is prefixed to each selection,
and all needed notes subjoined.

D. H. M.



  TABLE OF CONTENTS.

  I. Retreat of the Ten Thousand.
                                                                     PAGE
  Sketch of Cyrus the Younger (Introductory to the Retreat of the
  Ten Thousand)                                                         v

  §  1. Effect of the death of Cyrus on the Greeks; they resolve to
        retreat                                                         1

  §  2. Commencement of the retreat                                     6

  §  3. Negotiations with Tissaphernęs                                 10

  §  4. Treachery of Tissaphernęs                                      19

  §  5. Xenophon's dream and its results                               29

  §  6. The Greeks cross the Zab                                       42

  §  7. The Greeks fight their way across the Karduchian Mountains     50

  §  8. March through Armenia; great suffering from cold and
        hunger                                                         60

  §  9. The Greeks come in sight of the Black Sea                      70

  § 10. The Greek cities on the Black Sea; their feelings toward
        the Ten Thousand                                               75

  § 11. Plans of the army for the future                               79

  § 12. The Ten Thousand begin their march westward                    82

  § 13. Plan of Xenophon for founding a city on the Black Sea          88

  § 14. Xenophon defends himself against false accusations             95

  § 15. The army passes by sea to Sinôpę                              104

  § 16. The army crosses the Bosphorus to Byzantium; false promises
        of Anaxibius and their results                                116

  § 17. Mutiny of the army in leaving Byzantium                       120

  § 18. Xenophon's speech to the soldiers                             123

  § 19. The army finally leaves Byzantium; Seuthęs offers to hire
        them                                                          128

  § 20. The army enters the service of Seuthęs                        135

  § 21. Xenophon crosses over with the army to Asia                   138

  § 22. Xenophon takes leave of the army. Conclusion                  143


  II. Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow.

  Sketch of Napoleon (Introductory to the Retreat from Moscow)        152

  §  1. Description of Moscow; arrival of the Czar                    157

  §  2. Alarm in Moscow at the advance of the French army;
        preparations for the destruction of the city                  162

  §  3. Departure of the Russian governor from Moscow                 168

  §  4. Napoleon's first view of Moscow; the French enter the city    175

  §  5. Napoleon takes up his quarters in the Kremlin; the city
        discovered to be on fire                                      182

  §  6. The fire compels Napoleon to leave the city                   190

  §  7. Napoleon returns to the Kremlin; plunder of the city          195

  §  8. Rostopchin sets fire to his country-seat; anxiety of
        Napoleon at not hearing from the Czar                         201

  §  9. Napoleon determines to leave Moscow                           215

  § 10. Departure from Moscow; the first battle                       224

  § 11. Napoleon holds a council of war, and decides to retreat
        northward                                                     233

  § 12. Napoleon's attempt to destroy the Kremlin; view of the
        battle-field of Borodino                                      238

  § 13. Napoleon reaches Viazma; battle near that place               243

  § 14. Dreadful snow-storm on the 6th of November; its effect
        upon the troops                                               247

  § 15. Defeat and entire dissolution of Prince Eugene's corps at
        the passage of the Wop                                        253

  § 16. The Grand Army reaches Smolensk                               257

  § 17. Napoleon leaves Smolensk; battle of Krasnoë                   263

  § 18. Napoleon reaches Dombrowna and Orcha; he holds a
        council                                                       267

  § 19. Arrival of Marshal Ney                                        272

  § 20. Capture of Minsk by the Russians                              277

  § 21. March through the forest of Minsk; passage of the Berezina    280

  § 22. Napoleon abandons the Grand Army, and sets out for Paris      291

  § 23. Sufferings of the Grand Army after Napoleon's departure;
        arrival at Wilna                                              298

  § 24. Conclusion                                                    308

  Index to notes and list of proper names with their pronunciation    316




MAPS.
                                                                  PAGE

  1. The advance and the retreat of the Ten Thousand, facing        1

  2. The advance and the retreat of Napoleon in his Russian
     campaign, facing                                               1




SKETCH OF CYRUS THE YOUNGER.

(INTRODUCTORY TO THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND GREEKS.)


In the year 423 B.C. Darius Nothus ascended the throne of Persia. That
country was then the greatest empire in the world, and had an area
nearly equal to that of the United States. The capital of this seemingly
powerful realm was the ancient city of Babylon on the lower Euphrates.
Here the Great King, as he was styled, had his principal palace, from
which he issued orders to his twenty or more satraps or governors whose
provinces extended in name at least from the shores of the Mediterranean
to the banks of the Indus, and from the Persian Gulf to the Black Sea.

Darius had married his half-sister Parysatis, a high-spirited but
unscrupulous woman, by whom he had two sons, destined to be known in
history. The eldest was Artaxerxęs, a youth of but little character; and
the second, Cyrus, who inherited the decided qualities of his mother. In
order to distinguish him from Cyrus the Great, the founder of the
Persian Empire, who died more than a hundred years earlier, he is
commonly called Cyrus the Younger.

He was his mother's favorite, and as he was born after Darius assumed
the crown, while Artaxerxęs was born before that date, Parysatis seems
to have encouraged Cyrus to consider himself the true heir to the
throne, since he was in fact the _king's_ eldest son. Through her
influence he was appointed satrap of Lydia and the adjacent provinces of
western Asia Minor when he was but sixteen. This position, since it made
him the military ruler of that populous and wealthy section of country,
was one of great importance, and doubtless had no small influence in
shaping the young man's future career.

In 404 Cyrus was summoned from Sardis, the capital of Lydia, to Babylon,
and shortly after, his father died, leaving his crown to Artaxerxęs,
who, from his remarkable memory which appears to have been his chief
characteristic, got the title of Artaxerxęs Mnemon. But Cyrus certainly
was not deficient in this mental quality, for he seems to have
remembered his mother's suggestions about his being the rightful heir to
the throne so well, that at the coronation of Artaxerxęs he plotted his
assassination; or at least, Tissaphernęs, a neighboring satrap,[1]
accused him of it. Cyrus, who appears to have had no adequate defence to
make, was forthwith arrested and would probably have been summarily put
to death--for in Persia the law's delays were unknown--had not Parysatis
interfered. Realizing her son's imminent peril, she rushed forward and,
clasping him in her arms, wound her long flowing hair about him, and
pressed his neck to hers in such a way that the executioner must have
beheaded her with the same stroke with which he decapitated Cyrus.

The prayers and entreaties of Parysatis saved the young man's life, and
he was even permitted to return to Sardis and resume his power. He went;
but with no intention of remaining in that subordinate position. Not
only was he resolved to be revenged on Tissaphernęs, but he was equally
determined to overthrow the mild Artaxerxęs and convince him of the
mistake of yielding to a woman's tears.

Cyrus had learned from his residence on the Mediterranean coast, how far
superior Greek soldiers were to the troops of Persia. The former would
not only fight from patriotic motives, but what was more, they would
readily fight outside of Greece, if they were paid well for it; the
latter would only fight when they were flogged to it, and officers had
to carry whips to drive them into battle by the sting of the lash.

Under the pretext that he was about to engage in a local and private
war with his enemy Tissaphernęs, Cyrus managed to gradually collect an
army of about ten thousand Greeks whom Klearchus, an ex-governor of
Byzantium, hired for him. These ten thousand were the real core of the
expedition, though in addition a hundred thousand Asiatics were to form
the bulk of it. With this force the young satrap believed that he could
take Babylon and with it that title of Great King which he coveted. It
was true that Artaxerxęs would meet him with an army of ten men to his
one; but, as Cyrus said, mere "numbers and noise" did not tell on the
battle-field, and "numbers and noise" were all that the Persian
sovereign had to rely on.

When all was ready, Cyrus set out from Sardis on his memorable march in
the spring of 401. Among the Greeks was a volunteer named Xenophon, who
had been persuaded to go by his friend Proxenus, a general in the army
of Cyrus. Xenophon, as we shall see, eventually saved his countrymen
from destruction, and became not only the leader, but the historian of
the expedition.

With the exception of Klearchus, none of the army seem to have known the
real object of the campaign, but supposed that Cyrus was going to attack
the Pisidians, robber tribes that inhabited the mountainous country
southeast of Sardis. Artaxerxęs appears to have been equally in the
dark, and though he knew Cyrus was advancing in the direction of
Babylon, he thought that his ultimate purpose was to make war on
Tissaphernęs, and so gave himself no more trouble about the matter.

All went well with Cyrus and his Greek mercenaries until they reached
that city of Tarsus in Cilicia, which was later to become famous as the
birthplace of the apostle Paul. When they reached that place, Xenophon's
countrymen saw that they had been deceived, and that Cyrus evidently had
some greater foe in view than the rough banditti of the Pisidian
highlands. At first they were on the point of mutinying, and of stoning
Klearchus to give proper emphasis to their feelings; but sober second
thought showed them that it was doubtful whether they would gain
anything by such a course. Klearchus, who was quite equal to the
emergency, bade them reflect that they were now a long distance from
home, and that Cyrus had it in his power to make it difficult for them
to get back without his permission. Next, they were promised a decided
increase of pay if they would keep on. These considerations so
influenced the Greeks that they finally resolved to continue their march
and take the chances of war. Cyrus still refused to divulge his real
purpose; and though there cannot be much doubt that the Ten Thousand
felt pretty reasonably certain what it was, yet they probably believed
he had chances enough of success to make it worth their while to run the
risk with him.

Accordingly the army resumed their forward movement, following the trend
of the coast round the Gulf of Issus, and then striking southeasterly
again, until some time in the summer they reached and crossed the
Euphrates at Thapsacus. From that point they marched down the left bank
of the river, through the hilly desert of Arabia, toward the great city
of Babylon. Early in September they reached a point on the Tigris,
nearly opposite Bagdad, and about two days' march from Kunaxa, a place
not very far northwest of the Persian capital.

Up to this time Cyrus had met with no opposition, though he was daily
expecting to see the advance-guard of his brother's army. Before going
further he thought it prudent to hold a grand review of his troops,
which he did at midnight, as it was now reported that Artaxerxęs, with
an army of over a million, was coming to give him battle.

But the million did not make their appearance, and so Cyrus decided to
keep on until he should encounter them. The next day the invading army
reached a trench which had evidently been recently dug to obstruct their
advance. It stretched across the plain between the Euphrates and the
Tigris, in connection with the ruins of the old Median Wall, built
probably in the days of Nebuchadnezzar as one of the defences of
Babylon. This trench was eighteen feet deep, thirty feet wide, and
upwards of forty miles in length; it stopped short of the Euphrates by
only twenty feet. Over that narrow strip of ground, which the Persian
king might easily have held with a small number of resolute men, the
Cyreian forces passed, with no one to hinder them. The great trench, on
which so much labor had been expended, was, therefore, not only useless
as a defence to Artaxerxęs, but it was a positive encouragement to Cyrus
and his men, for it revealed the inefficiency and the cowardice of the
Persians. The whole army now moved rapidly forward, confident of an easy
victory, many even supposing that Artaxerxęs would make no stand at all,
but abandon his capital to them. The Great King, however, was not so
hopelessly pusillanimous as that; for, when Cyrus reached Kunaxa, scouts
brought word that the enemy's hosts were not far behind. This time the
intelligence was correct. That very afternoon a great cloud of white
dust rolled up from the plain, and as it kept advancing the invaders
caught sight of the flash of brazen armor and a forest of spears.

When all was ready for the battle to begin, the Greeks, not waiting to
be attacked, charged on the run against the Persian left wing. The
Persians, who seem to have thought that on such an occasion absence of
body was a good deal better than presence of mind, waited just long
enough to hear the Greeks give a fierce shout to Mars, accompanied by a
significant clatter of spears and shields. That satisfied them, and,
turning like a flock of frightened sheep, they ran for their lives.

Cyrus, who had refused to put on a helmet, now dashed into the fight
with uncovered head, making straight for King Artaxerxęs, who occupied
the centre of his army. "I see the man!" he cried, and, hurling his
lance, he struck and slightly wounded the Great King; but that
fratricidal blow was the last, for just then a javelin pierced Cyrus
under the eye, and he fell from his horse and was slain. His head and
right hand were then cut off to serve as a warning to traitors. The
native or Asiatic troops, seeing the disaster, fled, and did not stop
till they had reached a former camp eight miles away.

Meanwhile the victorious Ten Thousand, knowing nothing of what had
happened to Cyrus, pursued the Persians as long as light lasted; then
when the sun had set they returned to find that their camp had been
plundered by the enemy, and that they must go to bed supperless. It was
not until sunrise of the next day that they learned that Cyrus was dead;
that their companions in arms had fled; and that they were left a mere
handful of men without a leader, and without provisions, in the heart of
the enemy's country.

How to retreat from such a position was the supreme question. They could
not return the way they came, for that road led them through the desert,
where it would be impossible to get food. If they were to get back alive
they must take the northern route to the shores of the Black Sea. This
would lead them through a fertile but rough country, in which they would
have to find their way as best they could across rivers and over
mountains, harassed by the Persians in the rear, and encountering savage
tribes who would dispute their progress. At the shortest such a march
would be about six hundred miles even in an air line, with prospect of
something like six hundred more before they reached the Mediterranean.

After many delays, this latter course was the one they finally resolved
to take, and owing to Xenophon's courage and resolution it turned out
successfully.

After eight months of wandering, hardships, and peril, they all came in
sight of the Euxine, and perhaps no shipwrecked sailors clinging to a
raft ever cried "Land!" "Land!" with more joy than those Greeks who had
climbed a hill-top shouted "The Sea!" "The Sea!"

Thanks to their own bravery, to their able leader, and finally to
Persian vacillation and cowardice, this little army had now reached a
place of safety. It was long, however, before they got back to their
native country, and when they did, they were not to arrive at its shores
asleep, on shipboard, as the much wandering and storm-tossed Ulysses
came to his beloved Ithaca.

It is doubtful, indeed, how many of them ever got back to their Spartan
or Athenian homes, for we know that most of them could not make up their
minds to live quiet lives of peace again; but preferred fighting in
behalf of the independence of the Ionian cities which Greece had planted
on the coast of Asia Minor.

Such was the Retreat of the Ten Thousand. If we may accept the judgment
of Rollin, a once noted historian, it has never had a parallel in
history. If we consider its results, it certainly merits all that Rollin
claims for it, for it convinced the Greek people that the apparent power
of the Persian empire was utterly unreal. They saw that, as Cyrus had
said, its only strength was in "numbers and noise." This conviction
grew, and two generations after Xenophon's return, it led to that grand
invasion of Persia by Alexander the Great which was to revolutionize the
ancient world.

What, then, had the retreat of the Greeks accomplished? First, it proved
that ten thousand men not afraid to die are worth more than a million
who lack that courage; and next, though it was a retreat, yet it
suggested that advance which eventually spread the Greek language, Greek
culture and Greek civilization in countries where they were before
unknown.

D. H. M.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Tissaphernęs was a satrap of Caria, a province of Asia Minor south
of Lydia.




[Illustration: MARCH OF THE TEN THOUSAND GREEKS. FOR XENOPHON'S
ANABASIS.]

[Illustration: SKETCH MAP OF EUROPE SHOWING PRINCIPAL BATTLES OF
NAPOLEON.]




RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND GREEKS.


§ 1. Effect of the death of Cyrus on the Greeks; they resolve to
retreat.

The first triumphant feeling of the Greek troops at Kunaxa[2] was
exchanged, as soon as they learnt the death of Cyrus, for dismay and
sorrow; accompanied by unavailing repentance for the venture into which
he and Klearchus had seduced them. Probably Klearchus himself too
repented, and with good reason, of having displayed, in his manner of
fighting the battle, so little foresight, and so little regard either to
the injunctions or to the safety of Cyrus. Nevertheless he still
maintained the tone of a victor in the field, and after expressions of
grief for the fate of the young prince, desired Proklęs and Glűs to
return to Arićus, with the reply, that the Greeks on their side were
conquerors without any enemy remaining; that they were about to march
onward against Artaxerxęs; and that if Arićus would join them, they
would place him on the throne which had been intended for Cyrus. While
this reply was conveyed to Arićus by his particular friend Menon along
with the messengers, the Greeks procured a meal as well as they could,
having no bread, by killing some of the baggage animals; and by kindling
fire to cook their meat, from the arrows, the wooden Egyptian shields
which had been thrown away on the field, and the baggage carts.

Before any answer could be received from Arićus, heralds[3] appeared
coming from Artaxerxęs; among them being Phalînus, a Greek from
Zakynthus, and the Greek surgeon Ktesias of Knidus, who was in the
service of the Persian king. Phalînus, an officer of some military
experience and in the confidence of Tissaphernęs, addressed himself to
the Greek commanders; requiring them on the part of the King, since he
was now victor and had slain Cyrus, to surrender their arms and appeal
to his mercy. To this summons, painful in the extreme to a Grecian ear,
Klearchus replied that it was not the practice for victorious men to lay
down their arms. Being then called away to examine the sacrifice[4]
which was going on, he left the interview to the other officers, who met
the summons of Phalînus by an emphatic negative. "If the King thinks
himself strong enough to ask for our arms unconditionally, let him come
and try to seize them."--"The King (rejoined Phalînus) thinks that you
are in his power, being in the midst of his territory, hemmed in by
impassable rivers, and encompassed by his innumerable subjects."--"Our
arms and our valor are all that remain to us (replied a young Athenian);
we shall not be fools enough to hand over to you our only remaining
treasures, but shall employ them still to have a fight for _your_
treasure." But though several spoke in this resolute tone, there were
not wanting others disposed to encourage a negotiation; saying that
they had been faithful to Cyrus as long as he lived, and would now be
faithful to Artaxerxęs, if he wanted their services in Egypt or anywhere
else. In the midst of this parley Klearchus returned, and was requested
by Phalînus to return a final answer on behalf of all. He at first asked
the advice of Phalînus himself; appealing to the common feeling of
Hellenic[5] patriotism, and anticipating, with very little judgment,
that the latter would encourage the Greeks in holding out. "If (replied
Phalînus) I saw one chance out of ten thousand in your favor, in the
event of a contest with the King, I should advise you to refuse the
surrender of your arms. But as there is no chance of safety for you
against the King's consent, I recommend you to look out for safety in
the only quarter where it presents itself." Sensible of the mistake
which he had made in asking the question, Klearchus rejoined--"That is
_your_ opinion: now report our answer. We think we shall be better
friends to the King, if we are to be his friends,--or more effective
enemies, if we are to be his enemies,--with our arms, than without
them." Phalînus, in retiring, said that the King proclaimed a truce so
long as they remained in their present position--but war, if they moved,
either onward or backward. And to this Klearchus acceded, without
declaring which he intended to do.

Shortly after the departure of Phalînus, the envoys despatched to Arićus
returned; communicating his reply that the Persian grandees would never
tolerate any pretensions on his part to the crown, and that he intended
to depart early the next morning on his return; if the Greeks wished to
accompany him, they must join him during the night. In the evening,
Klearchus, convening the generals and the captains, acquainted them that
the morning sacrifice had been of a nature to forbid their marching
against the King--a prohibition, of which he now understood the reason,
from having since learnt that the King was on the other side of the
Tigris, and therefore out of their reach--but that it was favorable for
rejoining Arićus. He gave directions accordingly for a night-march back
along the Euphratęs, to the station where they had passed the last night
but one prior to the battle. The other Grecian generals, without any
formal choice of Klearchus as chief, tacitly acquiesced in his orders,
from a sense of his superior decision and experience, in an emergency
when no one knew what to propose. The night-march was successfully
accomplished, so that they joined Arićus at the preceding station about
midnight; not without the alarming symptom, however, that Miltokythęs
the Thracian deserted to the King at the head of 340 of his countrymen,
partly horse, partly foot.

The first proceeding of the Grecian generals was to exchange solemn
oaths of reciprocal fidelity and fraternity with Arićus. According to an
ancient and impressive practice, a bull, a wolf, a boar, and a ram, were
all slain, and their blood allowed to run into the hollow of a shield;
in which the Greek generals dipped a sword, and Arićus, with his chief
companions, a spear. The latter, besides the promise of alliance,
engaged also to guide the Greeks in good faith down to the Asiatic
coast. Klearchus immediately began to ask what route he proposed to
take; whether to return by that along which they had come up, or by any
other. To this Arićus replied, that the road along which they had
marched was impracticable for retreat, from the utter want of
provisions through seventeen days of desert; but that he intended to
choose another road, which, though longer, would be sufficiently
productive to furnish them with provisions. There was, however, a
necessity (he added), that the first two or three days' marches should
be of extreme length, in order that they might get out of the reach of
the king's forces, who would hardly be able to overtake them afterwards
with any considerable numbers.

They had now come 93 days' march from Ephesus, or 90 from Sardis. The
distance from Sardis to Kunaxa is 1464 miles. There had been at least 96
days of rest, enjoyed at various places, so that the total of time
elapsed must have at least been 189 days, or a little more than half a
year: but it was probably greater, since some intervals of rest are not
specified in number of days.

How to retrace their steps was now the problem, apparently insoluble. As
to the military force of Persia in the field, indeed, not merely the
easy victory at Kunaxa, but still more the undisputed march throughout
so long a space, left them no serious apprehension. In spite of this
great extent, population, and riches, they had been allowed to pass
through the most difficult and defensible country, and to ford the broad
Euphratęs, without a blow: nay, the King had shrunk from defending the
long trench which he had specially caused to be dug for the protection
of Babylonia. But the difficulties which stood between them and their
homes were of a very different character. How were they to find their
way back, or obtain provisions, in defiance of a numerous hostile
cavalry, which, not without efficiency even in a pitched battle, would
be most formidable in opposing their retreat? The line of their upward
march had all been planned, with supplies furnished, by Cyrus:--yet
even under such advantages, supplies had been on the point of failing,
in one part of the march. They were now, for the first time, called upon
to think and provide for themselves; without knowledge of either roads
or distances--without trustworthy guides--without any one to furnish or
even to indicate supplies--and with a territory all hostile, traversed
by rivers which they had no means of crossing. Klearchus himself knew
nothing of the country, nor of any other river except the Euphratęs; nor
does he indeed in his heart seem to have conceived retreat as
practicable without the consent of the King. The reader who casts his
eye on a map of Asia, and imagines the situation of this Greek division
on the left bank of the Euphratęs, near the parallel of latitude 33°
30'--will hardly be surprised at any measure of despair, on the part
either of general or soldiers. And we may add that Klearchus had not
even the advantage of such a map, or probably of any map at all, to
enable him to shape his course.

In this dilemma, the first and most natural impulse was to consult
Arićus; who (as has been already stated) pronounced, with good reason,
that return by the same road was impracticable; and promised to conduct
them home by another road--longer indeed, yet better supplied.


§ 2. Commencement of the Retreat.

At daybreak on the ensuing morning, they began their march in an
easterly direction, anticipating that before night they should reach
some villages of the Babylonian territory, as in fact they did; yet not
before they had been alarmed in the afternoon by the supposed approach
of some of the enemy's horse, and by evidences that the enemy were not
far off, which induced them to slacken their march for the purpose of
more cautious array.[6] Hence they did not reach the first villages
before dark; these too had been pillaged by the enemy while retreating
before them, so that only the first-comers under Klearchus could obtain
accommodation, while the succeeding troops, coming up in the dark,
pitched as they could without any order. The whole camp was a scene of
clamor, dispute, and even alarm, throughout the night. No provisions
could be obtained. Early the next morning Klearchus ordered them under
arms; and desiring to expose the groundless nature of the alarm, caused
the herald[7] to proclaim, that whoever would denounce the person who
had let the ass[8] into the camp on the preceding night, should be
rewarded with a talent[9] of silver.

What was the project of route entertained by Arićus, we cannot
ascertain; since it was not farther pursued. For the effect of the
unexpected arrival of the Greeks as if to attack the enemy--and even the
clamor and shouting of the camp during the night--so intimidated the
Persian commanders, that they sent heralds the next morning to treat
about a truce. The contrast between this message, and the haughty
summons of the preceding day to lay down their arms, was sensibly felt
by the Grecian officers, and taught them that the proper way of dealing
with the Persians was by a bold and aggressive demeanor. When Klearchus
was apprised of the arrival of the heralds, he desired them at first to
wait at the outposts until he was at leisure: then, having put his
troops into the best possible order, with a phalanx[10] compact on every
side to the eye, and the unarmed persons out of sight, he desired the
heralds to be admitted. He marched out to meet them with the most showy
and best-armed soldiers immediately around him, and when they informed
him that they had come from the King with instructions to propose a
truce, and to report on what conditions the Greeks would agree to it,
Klearchus replied abruptly--"Well then--go and tell the King, that our
first business must be to fight; for we have nothing to eat, nor will
any man presume to talk to Greeks about a truce, without first providing
dinner for them." With this reply the heralds rode off, but returned
very speedily; thus making it plain that the King, or the commanding
officer, was near at hand. They brought word that the King thought their
answer reasonable, and had sent guides to conduct them to a place where
they would obtain provisions, if the truce should be concluded.

After an affected delay and hesitation, in order to impose upon the
Persians, Klearchus concluded the truce, and desired that the guides
should conduct the army to those quarters where provisions could be had.
He was most circumspect in maintaining exact order during the march,
himself taking charge of the rear guard. The guides led them over many
ditches and channels, full of water, and cut for the purpose of
irrigation[11]; some so broad and deep that they could not be crossed
without bridges. The army had to put together bridges for the occasion,
from palm-trees either already fallen, or expressly cut down. This was a
troublesome business, which Klearchus himself superintended with
peculiar strictness. He carried his spear in the left hand, his stick in
the right; employing the latter to chastise any soldier who seemed
remiss--and even plunging into the mud and lending his own hands in aid
wherever it was necessary. As it was not the usual season of irrigation
for crops he suspected that the canals had been filled on this occasion
expressly to intimidate the Greeks, by impressing them with the
difficulties of their prospective march; and he was anxious to
demonstrate to the Persians that these difficulties were no more than
Grecian energy could easily surmount.

At length they reached certain villages indicated by their guides for
quarters and provisions; and here for the first time they had a sample
of that unparalleled abundance of the Babylonian territory, which
Herodotus is afraid to describe with numerical precision. Large
quantities of corn,[12]--dates not only in great numbers, but of such
beauty, freshness, size, and flavor, as no Greek had ever seen or
tasted, insomuch that fruit like what was imported into Greece, was
disregarded and left for the slaves--wine and vinegar, both also made
from the date-palm; these are the luxuries which Xenophon is eloquent in
describing, after his recent period of scanty fare and anxious
apprehension; not without also noticing the headaches which such new and
luscious food, in unlimited quantity, brought upon himself and others.


§ 3. Negotiations with Tissaphernęs.

After three days passed in these restorative quarters, they were visited
by Tissaphernęs, accompanied by four Persian grandees and a suite of
slaves. The satrap[13] began to open a negotiation with Klearchus and
the other generals. Speaking through an interpreter, he stated to them
that the vicinity of his province to Greece impressed him with a strong
interest in favor of the Cyreian Greeks,[14] and made him anxious to
rescue them out of their present desperate situation; that he had
solicited the King's permission to save them, as a personal recompense
to himself for having been the first to forewarn him of the schemes of
Cyrus, and for having been the only Persian who had not fled before the
Greeks at Kunaxa; that the King had promised to consider this point, and
had sent him in the mean time to ask the Greeks what their purpose was
in coming up to attack him; and that he trusted the Greeks would give
him a conciliatory answer to carry back, in order that he might have
less difficulty in realizing what he desired for their benefit. To this
Klearchus, after first deliberating apart with the other officers,
replied, that the army had come together, and had even commenced their
march, without any purpose of hostility to the King; that Cyrus had
brought them up the country under false pretences, but that they had
been ashamed to desert him in the midst of danger, since he had always
treated them generously; that since Cyrus was now dead, they had no
purpose of hostility against the King, but were only anxious to return
home; that they were prepared to repel hostility from all quarters, but
would be not less prompt in requiting favor or assistance. With this
answer Tissaphernęs departed, and returned on the next day but one,
informing them that he had obtained the King's permission to save the
Grecian army--though not without great opposition, since many Persian
counsellors contended that it was unworthy of the King's dignity to
suffer those who had assailed him to escape. "I am now ready (said he)
to conclude a covenant[15] and exchange oaths with you; engaging to
conduct you safely back into Greece, with the country friendly, and with
a regular market for you to purchase provisions. You must stipulate on
your part always to pay for your provisions, and to do no damage to the
country: if I do not furnish you with provisions to buy, you are then at
liberty to take them where you can find them." Well were the Greeks
content to enter into such a covenant, which was sworn, with hands given
upon it, by Klearchus, the other generals, and the captains on their
side--and by Tissaphernęs with the King's brother-in-law on the other.
Tissaphernęs then left them, saying that he would go back to the King,
make preparations, and return to reconduct the Greeks home; going
himself to his own province.

The statements of Ktesias, though known to us only indirectly, and not
to be received without caution, afford ground for believing that Queen
Parysatis decidedly wished success to her son Cyrus in his contest for
the throne--that the first report conveyed to her of the battle of
Kunaxa, announcing the victory of Cyrus, filled her with joy, which was
exchanged for bitter sorrow when she was informed of his death,--that
she caused to be slain with horrible tortures all those, who, though
acting in the Persian army and for the defence of Artaxerxęs, had any
participation in the death of Cyrus--and that she showed favorable
dispositions towards the Cyreian Greeks. It may seem probable, farther,
that her influence may have been exerted to procure for them an
unimpeded retreat, without anticipating the use afterwards made by
Tissaphernęs (as will soon appear) of the present convention.[16] And in
one point of view the Persian king had an interest in facilitating their
retreat. For the very circumstance which rendered retreat difficult,
also rendered the Greeks dangerous to him in their actual position. They
were in the heart of the Persian Empire, within seventy miles of
Babylon; in a country not only teeming with fertility, but also
extremely defensible; especially against cavalry, from the multiplicity
of canals, as Herodotus observed respecting Lower Egypt. And Klearchus
might say to his Grecian soldiers--what Xenophon was afterwards
preparing to say to them at Kalpę on the Euxine Sea, and what Nikias
also affirmed to the unhappy Athenian army whom he afterwards conducted
away from Syracuse[17]--that wherever they sat down, they were
sufficiently numerous and well-organized to become at once a city. A
body of such troops might effectually assist, and would perhaps
encourage, the Babylonian population to throw off the Persian yoke, and
to relieve themselves from the prodigious tribute[18] which they now
paid to the satrap. For these reasons, the advisers of Artaxerxęs
thought it advantageous to convey the Greeks across the Tigris out of
Babylonia, beyond all possibility of returning thither. This was at any
rate the primary object of the convention. And it was the more necessary
to conciliate the goodwill of the Greeks, because there seems to have
been but one bridge over the Tigris; which bridge could only be reached
by inviting them to advance considerably farther into the interior of
Babylonia.

Such was the state of fears and hopes on both sides, at the time when
Tissaphernęs left the Greeks, after concluding his convention. For
twenty days did they await his return, without receiving from him any
communication; the Cyreian Persians[19] under Arićus being encamped near
them. Such prolonged and unexplained delay became, after a few days, the
source of much uneasiness to the Greeks; the more so, as Arićus received
during this interval several visits from his Persian kinsmen, and
friendly messages from the King, promising amnesty[20] for his recent
services under Cyrus. Of these messages the effects were painfully felt,
in manifest coldness of demeanor on the part of his Persian troops
towards the Greeks. Impatient and suspicious, the Greek soldiers
impressed upon Klearchus their fears, that the King had concluded the
recent convention only to arrest their movements, until he should have
assembled a larger army and blocked up more effectually the roads
against their return. To this Klearchus replied--"I am aware of all that
you say. Yet if we now strike our tents,[21] it will be a breach of the
convention, and a declaration of war. No one will furnish us with
provisions: we shall have no guides: Arićus will desert us forthwith, so
that we shall have his troops as enemies instead of friends. Whether
there be any other river for us to cross, I know not; but we know that
the Euphratęs itself can never be crossed, if there be an enemy to
resist us. Nor have we any cavalry,--while cavalry is the best and most
numerous force of our enemies. If the King, having all these advantages,
really wishes to destroy us, I do not know why he should falsely
exchange all these oaths and solemnities, and thus make his own word
worthless in the eyes both of Greeks and barbarians."[22]

Such words from Klearchus are remarkable, as they testify his own
complete despair of the situation--certainly a very natural
despair--except by amicable dealing with the Persians; and also his
ignorance of geography and the country to be traversed. This feeling
helps to explain his imprudent confidence afterwards in Tissaphernęs.

That satrap, however, after twenty days, at last came back, with his
army prepared to return to Ionia[23]--with the King's daughter, whom he
had just received in marriage--and with another grandee named Orontas.
Tissaphernęs took the conduct of the march, providing supplies for the
Greek troops to purchase; while Arićus and his division now separated
themselves altogether from the Greeks, and became intermingled with the
other Persians. Klearchus and the Greeks followed them, at the distance
of about three miles in the rear, with a separate guide for themselves;
not without jealousy and mistrust, sometimes shown in individual
conflicts, while collecting wood or forage, between them and the
Persians of Arićus. After three days' march (that is, apparently, three
days, calculated from the moment when they began their retreat with
Arićus) they came to the Wall of Media,[24] and passed through it,
prosecuting their march onward through the country on its other or
interior side. It was of bricks cemented with bitumen,[25] 100 feet
high, and 20 feet broad; it was said to extend a length of about 70
miles, and to be not far distant from Babylon. Two days of farther
march, computed at 28 miles, brought them to the Tigris. During these
two days they crossed two great ship-canals, one of them over a
permanent bridge, the other over a temporary bridge laid on seven boats.
Canals of such magnitude must probably have been two among the four
stated by Xenophon to be drawn from the river Tigris, each of them about
three miles and a half distant from the other. They were 100 feet broad,
and deep enough even for heavy vessels; they were distributed by means
of numerous smaller channels and ditches for the irrigation of the soil;
and they were said to fall into the Euphratęs; or rather perhaps they
terminated in one main larger canal cut directly from the Euphratęs to
the Tigris, each of them joining this larger canal at a different point
of its course. Within less than two miles of the Tigris was a large and
populous city named Sittakę, near which the Greeks pitched their camp,
on the verge of a beautiful park or thick grove full of all kinds of
trees; while the Persians all crossed the Tigris, at the neighboring
bridge.

As Proxenus and Xenophon were here walking in front of the camp after
supper, a man was brought up who had asked for the former at the
advanced posts. This man said that he came with instructions from
Arićus. He advised the Greeks to be on their guard, as there were troops
concealed in the adjoining grove, for the purpose of attacking them
during the night--and also to send and occupy the bridge over the
Tigris, since Tissaphernęs intended to break it down, in order that the
Greeks might be caught without possibility of escape between the river
and the canal. On discussing this information with Klearchus, who was
much alarmed by it, a young Greek present remarked that the two matters
stated by the informant contradicted each other; for that if
Tissaphernęs intended to attack the Greeks during the night, he would
not break down the bridge, so as both to prevent his own troops on the
other side from crossing to aid, and to deprive those on this side of
all retreat if they were beaten,--while, if the Greeks were beaten,
there was no escape open to them, whether the bridge continued or not.
This remark induced Klearchus to ask the messenger, what was the extent
of ground between the Tigris and the canal. The messenger replied that
it was a great extent of country, comprising many large cities and
villages. Reflecting on this communication, the Greek officers came to
the conclusion that the message was a stratagem on the part of
Tissaphernęs to frighten them and hasten their passage across the
Tigris; under the apprehension that they might conceive the plan of
seizing or breaking the bridge and occupying a permanent position in the
spot where they were; which was an island, fortified on one side by the
Tigris,--on the other sides, by intersecting canals between the
Euphratęs and the Tigris. Such an island was a defensible position,
having a most productive territory with numerous cultivators, so as to
furnish shelter and means of hostility for all the King's enemies:
Tissaphernęs calculated that the message now delivered would induce the
Greeks to become alarmed with their actual position, and to cross the
Tigris with as little delay as possible. At least this was the
interpretation which the Greek officers put upon his proceeding; an
interpretation highly plausible, since, in order to reach the bridge
over the Tigris, he had been obliged to conduct the Greek troops into a
position sufficiently tempting for them to hold--and since he knew that
his own purposes were purely treacherous. But the Greeks, officers as
well as soldiers, were animated only by the wish of reaching home. They
trusted, though not without misgivings, in the promise of Tissaphernęs
to conduct them; and never for a moment thought of taking permanent post
in this fertile island. They did not however neglect the precaution of
sending a guard during the night to the bridge over the Tigris, which no
enemy came to assail. On the next morning they passed over it in a body,
in cautious and mistrustful array, and found themselves on the eastern
bank of the Tigris,--not only without attack, but even without sight of
a single Persian, except Glűs the interpreter and a few others watching
their motions.

After having crossed by a bridge laid upon thirty-seven pontoons,[26]
the Greeks continued their march to the northward upon the eastern side
of the Tigris, for four days to the river Physkus; said to be seventy
miles. The Physkus was 100 feet wide, with a bridge, and the large city
of Opis near it. Here, at the frontier of Assyria and Media, the road
from the eastern regions to Babylon joined the road northerly on which
the Greeks were marching. An illegitimate brother of Artaxerxęs was seen
at the head of a numerous force, which he was conducting from Susa and
Ekbatana as a reinforcement to the royal army. This great host halted to
see the Greeks pass by; and Klearchus ordered the march in column of two
abreast, employing himself actively to maintain an excellent array, and
halting more than once. The army thus occupied so long a time in passing
by the Persian host that their numbers appeared greater than the
reality, even to themselves; while the effect upon the Persian
spectators was very imposing. Here Assyria ended and Media began. They
marched, still in a northerly direction, for six days through a portion
of Media almost unpeopled, until they came to some flourishing villages
which formed a portion of the domain of Queen Parysatis; probably these
villages, forming so marked an exception to the desert character of the
remaining march, were situated on the Lesser Zab, which flows into the
Tigris, and which Xenophon must have crossed, though he makes no mention
of it. According to the order of march stipulated between the Greeks and
Tissaphernęs, the latter only provided a supply of provisions for the
former to purchase; but on the present halt, he allowed the Greeks to
plunder the villages, which were rich and full of all sorts of
subsistence--yet without carrying off the slaves. The wish of the satrap
to put an insult on Cyrus, as his personal enemy, through Parysatis,
thus proved a sentence of ruin to these unhappy villagers. Five more
days' march, called seventy miles, brought them to the banks of the
river Zabatus, or the Greater Zab, which flows into the Tigris near a
town now called Senn. During the first of these five days, they saw on
the opposite side of the Tigris a large town called Kćnć, from whence
they received supplies of provisions, brought across by the inhabitants
upon rafts supported by inflated skins.[27]


§ 4. Treachery of Tissaphernęs.

On the banks of the Great Zab they halted three days--days of serious
and tragical moment. Having been under feelings of mistrust, ever since
the convention with Tissaphernęs, they had followed throughout the whole
march, with separate guides of their own, in the rear of his army,
always maintaining their encampment apart. During their halt on the Zab,
so many various manifestations occurred to aggravate the mistrust, that
hostilities seemed on the point of breaking out between the two camps.
To obviate this danger Klearchus demanded an interview with
Tissaphernęs, represented to him the threatening attitude of affairs,
and insisted on the necessity of coming to a clear understanding. He
impressed upon the satrap that, over and above the solemn oaths which
had been interchanged, the Greeks on their side could have no
conceivable motive to quarrel with him; that they had everything to hope
from his friendship, and everything to fear, even to the loss of all
chance of safe return, from his hostility; that Tissaphernęs also could
gain nothing by destroying them, but would find them, if he chose, the
best and most faithful instruments for his own aggrandizement and for
conquering the Mysians and Pisidians[28]--as Cyrus had experienced while
he was alive. Klearchus concluded his protest by requesting to be
informed, what malicious reporter had been filling the mind of
Tissaphernęs with causeless suspicions against the Greeks.

"Klearchus (replied the satrap), I rejoice to hear such excellent sense
from your lips. You remark truly, that if you were to meditate evil
against me, it would recoil upon yourselves. I shall prove to you, in my
turn, that you have no cause to mistrust either the King or me. If we
had wished to destroy you, nothing would be easier. We have
superabundant forces for the purpose: there are wide plains in which you
would be starved--besides mountains and rivers which you would be unable
to pass, without our help. Having thus the means of destroying you in
our hands, and having nevertheless bound ourselves by solemn oaths to
save you, we shall not be fools and knaves enough to attempt it now,
when we should draw upon ourselves the just indignation of the gods. It
is my peculiar affection for my neighbors the Greeks--and my wish to
attach to my own person, by ties of gratitude, the Greek soldiers of
Cyrus--which have made me eager to conduct you to Ionia[29] in safety.
For I know that when you are in my service, though the King is the only
man who can wear his tiara[30] erect _upon his head_, I shall be able to
wear mine erect upon _my heart_, in full pride and confidence."

So powerful was the impression made upon Klearchus by these assurances,
that he exclaimed--"Surely those informers deserve the severest
punishment, who try to put us at enmity, when we are such good friends
to each other, and have so much reason to be so." "Yes (replied
Tissaphernęs), they deserve nothing less: and if you, with the other
generals and captains, will come into my tent tomorrow, I will tell you
who the calumniators are." "To-be-sure I will (rejoined Klearchus), and
bring the other generals with me. I shall tell you at the same time who
are the parties that seek to prejudice us against you." The conversation
then ended, the satrap detaining Klearchus to dinner, and treating him
in the most hospitable and confidential manner.

On the next morning, Klearchus communicated what had passed to the
Greeks, insisting on the necessity that all the generals should go to
Tissaphernęs pursuant to his invitation; in order to re-establish that
confidence which unworthy calumniators had shaken, and to punish such of
the calumniators as might be Greeks. So emphatically did he pledge
himself for the good faith and philhellenic[31] dispositions of the
satrap, that he overruled the opposition of many among the soldiers;
who, still continuing to entertain their former suspicions, remonstrated
especially against the extreme imprudence of putting all the generals at
once into the power of Tissaphernęs. The urgency of Klearchus prevailed.
Himself with four other generals--Proxenus, Menon, Agias, and
Sokratęs--and twenty captains--went to visit the satrap in his tent;
about 200 of the soldiers going along with them, to make purchases for
their own account in the Persian camp-market.

On reaching the quarters of Tissaphernęs--distant nearly three miles
from the Persian camp according to habit--the five generals were
admitted into the interior, while the captains remained at the entrance.
A purple flag, hoisted from the top of the tent, betrayed too late the
purpose for which they had been invited to come. The captains, with the
Grecian soldiers who had accompanied them, were surprised and cut down,
while the generals in the interior were detained, put in chains, and
carried up as prisoners to the Persian court. Here Klearchus, Proxenus,
Agias, and Sokratęs, were beheaded, after a short imprisonment. Queen
Parysatis, indeed, from affection to Cyrus, not only furnished many
comforts to Klearchus in the prison (by the hands of her surgeon
Ktesias), but used all her influence with her son Artaxerxęs to save
his life; though her efforts were counteracted, on this occasion, by the
superior influence of Queen Stateira, his wife. The rivalry between
these two royal women, doubtless arising out of many other circumstances
besides the death of Klearchus, became soon afterwards so furious, that
Parysatis caused Stateira to be poisoned.

Menon was not put to death along with the other generals. He appears to
have taken credit at the Persian court for the treason of entrapping his
colleagues into the hands of Tissaphernęs. But his life was only
prolonged to perish a year afterwards in disgrace and torture--probably
by the requisition of Parysatis, who thus avenged the death of
Klearchus. The queen-mother had always power enough to perpetrate
cruelties, though not always to avert them. She had already brought to a
miserable end every one, even faithful defenders of Artaxerxęs,
concerned in the death of her son Cyrus.

Though Menon thought it convenient, when brought up to Babylon, to boast
of having been the instrument through whom the generals were entrapped
into the fatal tent, this boast is not to be treated as matter of fact.
For not only does Xenophon explain the catastrophe differently, but in
the delineation which he gives of Menon, dark and odious as it is in the
extreme, he does not advance any such imputation; indirectly, indeed, he
sets it aside.

Unfortunately for the reputation of Klearchus, no such reasonable excuse
can be offered for his credulity, which brought himself as well as his
colleagues to so melancholy an end, and his whole army to the brink of
ruin. It appears that the general sentiment of the Grecian army, taking
just measure of the character of Tissaphernęs, was disposed to greater
circumspection in dealing with him. Upon that system Klearchus himself
had hitherto acted; and the necessity of it might have been especially
present to _his_ mind, since he had served with the Lacedćmonian fleet
at Miletus[32] in 411 B.C., and had therefore had fuller experience than
other men in the army, of the satrap's real character. On a sudden he
now turns round, and on the faith of a few verbal declarations, puts all
the military chiefs into the most defenceless posture and the most
obvious peril, such as hardly the strongest grounds for confidence could
have justified. Though the remark of Machiavel is justified by large
experience--that from the short-sightedness of men and their obedience
to present impulse, the most notorious deceiver will always find new
persons to trust him--still such misjudgment on the part of an officer
of age and experience is difficult to explain. Polyćnus intimates that
beautiful women, exhibited by the satrap at his first banquet to
Klearchus alone, served as a lure to attract him with all his colleagues
to the second; while Xenophon imputes the error to continuance of a
jealous rivalry with Menon. The latter, it appears, having always been
intimate with Arićus; had been thus brought into previous communication
with Tissaphernęs, by whom he had been well received, and by whom he was
also encouraged to lay plans for detaching the whole Grecian army from
Klearchus so as to bring it all under his (Menon's) command into the
services of the satrap. Such at least was the suspicion of Klearchus;
who, jealous in the extreme of his own military authority, tried to
defeat the scheme by bidding still higher himself for the favor of
Tissaphernęs. Imagining that Menon was the unknown calumniator who
prejudiced the satrap against him, he hoped to prevail on the satrap to
disclose his name and dismiss him. Such jealousy seems to have robbed
Klearchus of his customary prudence. We must also allow for another
impression deeply fixed in his mind; that the salvation of the army was
hopeless without the consent of Tissaphernęs, and therefore, since the
latter had conducted them thus far in safety, when he might have
destroyed them before, that his designs at the bottom could not be
hostile.

Notwithstanding these two great mistakes--one on the present occasion,
one previously, at the battle of Kunaxa, in keeping the Greeks on the
right contrary to the order of Cyrus--both committed by Klearchus, the
loss of that officer was doubtless a great misfortune to the army;
while, on the contrary, the removal of Menon was a signal
benefit--perhaps a condition of ultimate safety. A man so treacherous
and unprincipled as Xenophon depicts Menon, would probably have ended by
really committing towards the army that treason, for which he falsely
took credit at the Persian court in reference to the seizure of the
generals.

The impression entertained by Klearchus, respecting the hopeless
position of the Greeks in the heart of the Persian territory after the
death of Cyrus was perfectly natural in a military man who could
appreciate all the means of attack and obstruction which the enemy had
it in their power to employ. Nothing is so unaccountable in this
expedition as the manner in which such means were thrown away--the
spectacle of Persian impotence. First, the whole line of upward march,
including the passage of the Euphratęs, left undefended; next, the long
trench dug across the frontier of Babylonia, with only a passage of
twenty feet wide left near the Euphratęs, abandoned without a guard;
lastly, the line of the Wall of Media and the canals which offered such
favorable positions for keeping the Greeks out of the cultivated
territory of Babylonia, neglected in like manner, and a convention
concluded whereby the Persians engaged to escort the invaders safe to
the Ionian coast, beginning by conducting them through the heart of
Babylonia, amidst canals affording inexpugnable defences if the Greeks
had chosen to take up a position among them. The plan of Tissaphernęs,
as far as we can understand it, seems to have been, to draw the Greeks
to some considerable distance from the heart of the Persian empire, and
then to open his schemes of treasonable hostility, which the imprudence
of Klearchus enabled him to do, on the banks of the Great Zab, with
chances of success such as he could hardly have contemplated. We have
here a fresh example of the wonderful impotence of the Persians. We
should have expected that, after having committed so flagrant an act of
perfidy, Tissaphernęs would at least have tried to turn it to account;
that he would have poured with all his forces and all his vigor on the
Grecian camp, at the moment when it was unprepared, disorganized, and
without commanders. Instead of which, when the generals (with those who
accompanied them to the Persian camp) had been seized or slain, no
attack whatever was made except by small detachments of Persian cavalry
upon individual Greek stragglers in the plain. One of the companions of
the generals, an Arcadian,[33] named Nikarchus, ran wounded into the
Grecian camp, where the soldiers were looking from afar at the horsemen
scouring the plain without knowing what they were about,--exclaiming
that the Persians were massacring all the Greeks, officers as well as
soldiers. Immediately the Greek soldiers hastened to put themselves in
defence, expecting a general attack to be made upon their camp; but no
more Persians came near than a body of about 300 horse, under Arićus and
Mithridatęs (the confidential companions of the deceased Cyrus),
accompanied by the brother of Tissaphernęs. These men, approaching the
Greek lines as friends, called for the Greek officers to come forth, as
they had a message to deliver from the King. Accordingly, Kleanor and
Sophćnetus with an adequate guard, came to the front, accompanied by
Xenophon, who was anxious to hear news about Proxenus. Arićus then
acquainted them that Klearchus, having been detected in a breach of the
convention to which he had sworn, had been put to death; that Proxenus
and Menon, who had divulged his treason, were in high honor at the
Persian quarters. He concluded by saying--"The King calls upon you to
surrender your arms, which now (he says) belong to him, since they
formerly belonged to his slave Cyrus."

The step here taken seems to testify a belief on the part of these
Persians, that the generals being now in their power the Grecian
soldiers had become defenceless, and might be required to surrender
their arms, even to men who had just been guilty of the most deadly
fraud and injury towards them. If Arićus entertained such an
expectation, he was at once undeceived by the language of Kleanor and
Xenophon, which breathed nothing but indignant reproach; so that he soon
retired and left the Greeks to their own reflections.

While their camp yet remained unmolested, every man within it was a prey
to the most agonizing apprehensions. Ruin appeared impending and
inevitable, though no one could tell in what precise form it would come.
The Greeks were in the midst of a hostile country, nearly 1200 miles
from home, surrounded by enemies, blocked up by impassable mountains and
rivers, without guides, without provisions, without cavalry to aid their
retreat, without generals to give orders. A stupor of sorrow and
conscious helplessness seized upon all. Few came to the evening muster;
few lighted fires to cook their suppers; every man lay down to rest
where he was; yet no man could sleep, for fear, anguish, and yearning
after relatives whom he was never again to behold.

Amidst the many causes of despondency which weighed down this forlorn
army, there was none more serious than the fact, that not a single man
among them had now either authority to command, or obligation to take
the initiative. Nor was any ambitious candidate likely to volunteer his
pretensions, at a moment when the post promised nothing but the maximum
of difficulty as well as of hazard. A new, self-kindled light--and
self-originated stimulus--was required, to vivify the embers of
suspended hope and action, in a mass paralyzed for the moment, but every
way capable of effort. And the inspiration now fell, happily for the
army, upon one in whom a full measure of soldierly strength and courage
was combined with the education of an Athenian, a democrat, and a
philosopher.[34]


§ 5. Xenophon's Dream and its Results.

It is in true Homeric vein, and in something like Homeric language, that
Xenophon (to whom we owe the whole narrative of the expedition)
describes his dream, or the intervention of Oneirus,[35] sent by
Zeus,[36] from which this renovating impulse took its rise. Lying
mournful and restless like his comrades, he caught a short repose; when
he dreamt that he heard thunder, and saw the burning thunderbolt fall
upon his paternal house, which became forthwith encircled by flames.
Awaking, full of terror, he instantly sprang up; upon which the dream
began to fit on and blend itself with his waking thoughts, and with the
cruel realities of his position. His pious and excited fancy generated a
series of shadowy analogies. The dream was sent by Zeus the King, since
it was from him that thunder and lightning proceeded. In one respect,
the sign was auspicious--that a great light had appeared to him from
Zeus in the midst of peril and suffering. But on the other hand, it was
alarming, that the house had appeared to be completely encircled by
flames, preventing all egress, because this seemed to indicate that he
would remain confined where he was in the Persian dominions, without
being able to overcome the difficulties which hedged him in. Yet
doubtful as the promise was, it was still the message of Zeus addressed
to himself, serving as a stimulus to him to break through the common
stupor and take the initiative movement. "Why am I lying here? Night is
advancing; at daybreak the enemy will be on us, and we shall be put to
death with tortures. Not a man is stirring to take measures of defence.
Why do I wait for any man older than myself, or for any man of a
different city, to begin?"

With these reflections, interesting in themselves, and given with
Homeric vivacity, he instantly went to convene the captains who had
served under his late friend Proxenus. He impressed upon them
emphatically the necessity of standing forward to put the army in a
posture of defence. "I cannot sleep, fellow-soldiers; neither, I
presume, can you, under our present perils. The enemy will be upon us at
daybreak--prepared to kill us all with tortures, as his worst enemies.
For my part, I rejoice that his villanous perjury has put an end to a
truce by which we were the great losers; a truce, under which we,
mindful of our oaths, have passed through all the rich possessions of
the King, without touching anything except what we could purchase with
our own scanty means. Now, we have our hands free: all these rich spoils
stand between us and him, as prizes for the better man. The gods, who
preside over the match, will assuredly be on the side of us, who have
kept our oaths in spite of strong temptations, against these perjurers.
Moreover, our bodies are more enduring, and our spirit more gallant,
than theirs. They are easier to wound, and easier to kill, than we are,
under the same favor of the gods as we experienced at Kunaxa.

"Probably others also are feeling just as we feel. But let us not wait
for any one else to come as monitors to us: let us take the lead, and
communicate the stimulus of honor to others. Do you show yourselves now
the best among the captains--more worthy of being generals than the
generals themselves. Begin at once, and I desire only to follow you. But
if you order me into the front rank, I shall obey without pleading my
youth as an excuse--accounting myself to be of complete maturity, when
the purpose is to save myself from ruin."

All the captains who heard Xenophon cordially concurred in his
suggestion, and desired him to take the lead in executing it. One captain
alone--Apollonidęs, speaking in the Boeotian dialect[37]--protested
against it as insane; enlarging upon their desperate position, and
insisting upon submission to the King as the only chance of safety. "How?
(replied Xenophon). Have you forgotten the courteous treatment which we
received from the Persians in Babylonia when we replied to their demand
for the surrender of our arms by showing a bold front? Do not you see the
miserable fate which has befallen Klearchus, when he trusted himself
unarmed in their hands, in reliance on their oaths? And yet you scout our
exhortations to resistance, again advising us to go and plead for
indulgence! My friends, such a Greek as this man, disgraces not only his
own city, but all Greece besides. Let us banish him from our councils,
cashier[38] him, and make a slave of him to carry baggage." "Nay
(observed Agasias of Stymphalus), the man has nothing to do with Greece:
I myself have seen his ears bored, like a true Lydian."[39] Apollonidęs
was degraded accordingly.

Xenophon with the rest then distributed themselves in order to bring
together the chief remaining officers in the army, who were presently
convened, to the number of about one hundred. The senior captain of the
earlier body next desired Xenophon to repeat to this larger body the
topics upon which he had just before been insisting. Xenophon obeyed,
enlarging yet more emphatically on the situation, perilous, yet not
without hope--on the proper measures to be taken--and especially on the
necessity that they, the chief officers remaining, should put themselves
forward prominently, first fix upon effective commanders, then
afterwards submit the names to be confirmed by the army, accompanied
with suitable exhortations and encouragement. His speech was applauded
and welcomed, especially by the Lacedćmonian general Cheirisophus, who
had joined Cyrus with a body of 700 heavy-armed foot-soldiers at Issus
in Kilikia.[40] Cheirisophus urged the captains to retire forthwith, and
agree upon their commanders instead of the five who had been seized;
after which the herald must be summoned, and the entire body of soldiers
convened without delay. Accordingly Timasion of Dardanus was chosen
instead of Klearchus; Xanthiklęs in place of Sokratęs; Kleanor in place
of Agias; Philesius in place of Menon; and Xenophon instead of
Proxenus. The captains, who had served under each of the departed
generals, separately chose a successor to the captain thus promoted. It
is to be recollected that the five now chosen were not the only generals
in the camp; thus for example, Cheirisophus had the command of his own
separate division, and there may have been one or two others similarly
placed. But it was now necessary for all the generals to form a Board
and act in concert.

At daybreak the newly-constituted Board of generals placed proper
outposts in advance, and then convened the army in general assembly, in
order that the new appointments might be submitted and confirmed. As
soon as this had been done, probably on the proposition of Cheirisophus
(who had been in command before), that general addressed a few words of
exhortation and encouragement to the soldiers. He was followed by
Kleanor, who delivered, with the like brevity, an earnest protest
against the perfidy of Tissaphernęs and Arićus. Both of them left to
Xenophon the task, alike important and arduous at this moment of
despondency, of setting forth the case at length,--working up the
feelings of the soldiers to that pitch of resolution which the emergency
required,--and above all extinguishing all those inclinations to
acquiesce in new treacherous proposals from the enemy, which the perils
of the situation would be likely to suggest.

Xenophon had equipped himself in his finest military costume at this his
first official appearance before the army, when the scales seemed to
tremble between life and death. Taking up the protest of Kleanor against
the treachery of the Persians, he insisted that any attempt to enter
into convention or trust with such liars, would be utter ruin--but that
if energetic resolution were taken to deal with them only at the point
of the sword, and punish their misdeeds, there was good hope of the
favor of the gods and of ultimate preservation. As he pronounced this
last word, one of the soldiers near him happened to sneeze.[41]
Immediately the whole army around shouted with one accord the accustomed
invocation to Zeus the Preserver; and Xenophon, taking up the accident,
continued--"Since, fellow-soldiers, this omen from Zeus the Preserver
has appeared at the instant when we were talking about preservation, let
us here vow to offer the preserving sacrifice to that god, and at the
same time to sacrifice to the remaining gods as well as we can, in the
first friendly country which we may reach. Let every man who agrees with
me hold up his hand." All held up their hands: all then joined in the
vow, and shouted the pćan.[42]

This accident, so dexterously turned to profit by the rhetorical skill
of Xenophon, was eminently beneficial in raising the army out of the
depression which weighed them down, and in disposing them to listen to
his animating appeal. Repeating his assurances that the gods were on
their side, and hostile to their perjured enemy, he recalled to their
memory the great invasions of Greece by Darius and Xerxes,--how the vast
hosts of Persia had been disgracefully repelled. The army had shown
themselves on the field of Kunaxa worthy of such forefathers; and they
would for the future be yet bolder, knowing by that battle of what
stuff the Persians were made. As for Arićus and his troops, alike
traitors and cowards, their desertion was rather a gain than a loss. The
enemy were superior in horsemen: but men on horseback were after all
only men, half occupied in the fear of losing their seats--incapable of
prevailing against infantry firm on the ground,--and only better able to
run away. Now that the satrap refused to furnish them with provisions to
buy, they on their side were released from their covenant, and would
take provisions without buying. Then as to the rivers; those were indeed
difficult to be crossed, in the middle of their course; but the army
would march up to their sources, and could then pass them without
wetting the knee. Or indeed, the Greeks might renounce the idea of
retreat, and establish themselves permanently in the King's own country,
defying all his force, like the Mysians and Pisidians.[43] "If (said
Xenophon) we plant ourselves here at our ease in a rich country, with
these tall, stately and beautiful Median and Persian women for our
companions--we shall be only too ready, like the Lotos-eaters,[44] to
forget our way home. We ought first to go back to Greece, and tell our
countrymen that if they remain poor, it is their own fault, when there
are rich settlements in this country awaiting all who choose to come,
and who have courage to seize them. Let us burn our baggage wagons and
tents, and carry with us nothing but what is of the strictest necessity.
Above all things, let us maintain order, discipline, and obedience to
the commanders, upon which our entire hope of safety depends. Let every
man promise to lend his hand to the commanders in punishing any
disobedient individuals; and let us thus show the enemy that we have ten
thousand persons like Klearchus, instead of that one whom they have so
perfidiously seized. Now is the time for action. If any man, however
obscure, has anything better to suggest, let him come forward and state
it; for we have all but one object--the common safety."

It appears that no one else desired to say a word, and that the speech
of Xenophon gave unqualified satisfaction; for when Cheirisophus put the
question, that the meeting should sanction his recommendations, and
finally elect the new generals proposed--every man held up his hand.
Xenophon then moved that the army should break up immediately, and march
to some well-stored villages, rather more than two miles distant; that
the march should be in a hollow square, with the baggage in the centre;
that Cheirisophus, as a Lacedćmonian, should lead the van; while
Kleanor, and the other senior officers, would command on each
flank,--and himself with Timasion, as the two youngest of the generals,
would lead the rear guard.

This proposition was at once adopted, and the assembly broke up;
proceeding forthwith to destroy, or distribute among one another, every
man's superfluous baggage--and then to take their morning meal previous
to the march.

The scene just described is interesting and illustrative in more than
one point of view. It exhibits that susceptibility to the influence of
persuasive discourse which formed so marked a feature in the Grecian
character--a resurrection of the collective body out of the depth of
despair, under the exhortation of one who had no established ascendency,
nor anything to recommend him, except his intelligence, his oratorical
power, and his community of interest with themselves. Next, it
manifests, still more strikingly, the superiority of Athenian training
as compared with that of other parts of Greece. Cheirisophus had not
only been before in office as one of the generals, but was also a native
of Sparta, whose supremacy and name was at that moment all-powerful;
Kleanor had been before, not indeed a general, but a captain, or one in
the second rank of officers:--he was an elderly man--and he was an
Arcadian, while more than the numerical half of the army consisted of
Arcadians and Achćans.[45] Either of these two therefore, and various
others besides, enjoyed a sort of prerogative, or established
starting-point, for taking the initiative in reference to the dispirited
army. But Xenophon was comparatively a young man, with little military
experience:--he was not an officer at all, either in the first or second
grade, but simply a volunteer, companion of Proxenus:--he was moreover a
native of Athens, a city at that time unpopular among the great body of
Greeks, and especially of Peloponnesians,[46] with whom her recent long
war had been carried on. Not only therefore he had no advantages
compared with others, but he was under positive disadvantages. He had
nothing to start with except his personal qualities and previous
training; in spite of which we find him not merely the prime mover, but
also the superior person for whom the others make way. In him are
exemplified those peculiarities of Athens, attested not less by the
denunciation of her enemies than by the panegyric of her own
citizens,--spontaneous and forward impulse, as well in conception as in
execution--confidence under circumstances which made others
despair--persuasive discourse and publicity of discussion, made
subservient to practical business, so as at once to appeal to the
intelligence, and stimulate the active zeal, of the multitude. Such
peculiarities stood out more remarkably from being contrasted with the
opposite qualities in Spartans--mistrust in conception, slackness in
execution, secrecy in counsel, silent and passive obedience. Though
Spartans and Athenians formed the two extremities of the scale, other
Greeks stood nearer on this point to the former than to the latter.

If, even in that encouraging autumn which followed immediately upon the
great Athenian catastrophe[47] before Syracuse, the inertia of Sparta
could not be stirred into vigorous action without the vehemence of the
Athenian Alkibiadęs--much more was it necessary, under the depressing
circumstances which now overclouded the unofficered Grecian army, that
an Athenian bosom should be found as the source of new life and
impulse. Nor would any one, probably, except an Athenian, either have
felt or obeyed the promptings to stand forward as a volunteer at that
moment, when there was every motive to decline responsibility, and no
special duty to impel him. But if by chance a Spartan or an Arcadian had
been found thus forward, he would have been destitute of such talents as
would enable him to work on the minds of others--of that flexibility,
resource, familiarity with the temper and movements of an assembled
crowd, power of enforcing the essential views and touching the opportune
chords, which Athenian democratical training imparted. Even Brasidas and
Gylippus, individual Spartans of splendid merit, and equal or superior
to Xenophon in military resource, would not have combined with it that
political and rhetorical accomplishment which the position of the latter
demanded. Obvious as the wisdom of his propositions appears, each of
them is left to him not only to initiate, but to enforce: Cheirisophus
and Kleanor, after a few words of introduction, consign to him the duty
of working up the minds of the army to the proper pitch.

How well he performed this, may be seen by his speech to the army, which
bears in its general tenor a remarkable resemblance to that of
Periklęs[48] addressed to the Athenian public in the second year of the
war,[49] at the moment when the miseries of the epidemic, combined with
those of invasion, had driven them almost to despair. It breathes a
strain of exaggerated confidence, and an undervaluing of real dangers,
highly suitable for the occasion, but which neither Periklęs nor
Xenophon would have employed at any other moment. Throughout the whole
of his speech, and especially in regard to the accidental sneeze near at
hand which interrupted the beginning of it, Xenophon displayed that
skill and practice in dealing with a numerous audience, and a given
situation, which characterized more or less every educated Athenian.
Other Greeks, Lacedćmonians or Arcadians, could act, with bravery and in
concert; but the Athenian Xenophon was among the few who could think,
speak, and act, with equal efficiency. It was this threefold
accomplishment which an aspiring youth was compelled to set before
himself as an aim, in the democracy of Athens; and which the
Sophists[50] as well as the democratical institutions--both of them so
hardly depreciated by most critics--helped and encouraged him to
acquire. It was this threefold accomplishment, the exclusive possession
of which, in spite of constant jealousy on the part of Boeotian officers
and comrades of Proxenus, elevated Xenophon into the most ascendent
person of the Cyreian army, from the present moment until the time when
it broke up,--as will be seen in the subsequent history.

I think it the more necessary to notice this fact,--that the
accomplishments whereby Xenophon leaped on a sudden into such
extraordinary ascendency, and rendered such eminent service to his army,
were accomplishments belonging in an especial manner to the Athenian
democracy and education--because Xenophon himself has throughout his
writings treated Athens not merely without the attachment of a citizen,
but with feelings more like the positive antipathy of an exile. His
sympathies are all in favor of the perpetual drill, the mechanical
obedience, the secret government proceedings, the narrow and prescribed
range of ideas, the silent and deferential demeanor, the methodical,
though tardy, action--of Sparta. Whatever may be the justice of his
preference, certain it is, that the qualities whereby he was himself
enabled to contribute so much both to the rescue of the Cyreian army,
and to his own reputation--were Athenian far more than Spartan.

While the Grecian army, after sanctioning the propositions of Xenophon,
were taking their morning meal before they commenced their march,
Mithridatęs, one of the Persians previously attached to Cyrus, appeared
with a few horsemen on a mission of pretended friendship. But it was
soon found out that his purposes were treacherous, and that he came
merely to seduce individual soldiers to desertion--with a few of whom he
succeeded. Accordingly, the resolution was taken to admit no more
heralds or envoys.


§ 6. The Greeks cross the Zab.

Disembarrassed of superfluous baggage, and refreshed, the army now
crossed the Great Zab River, and pursued their march on the other side,
having their baggage and attendants in the centre, and Cheirisophus
leading the van, with a select body of 300 heavy-armed foot-soldiers. As
no mention is made of a bridge, we are to presume that they forded the
river,--which furnishes a ford still commonly used, at a place between
thirty and forty miles from its junction with the Tigris. When they had
got a little way forward, Mithridatęs again appeared with a few hundred
cavalry and bowmen. He approached them like a friend; but as soon as he
was near enough, suddenly began to harass the rear with a shower of
missiles. What surprises us most, is, that the Persians, with their very
numerous force, made no attempt to hinder them from crossing so very
considerable a river; for Xenophon estimates the Zab at 400 feet
broad,--and this seems below the statement of modern travellers, who
inform us that it contains not much less water than the Tigris; and
though usually deeper and narrower, cannot be much narrower at any
fordable place. It is to be recollected that the Persians, habitually
marching in advance of the Greeks, must have reached the river first,
and were therefore in possession of the crossing, whether bridge or
ford. Though on the watch for every opportunity of perfidy, Tissaphernęs
did not dare to resist the Greeks, even in the most advantageous
position, and ventured only upon sending Mithridatęs to harass the rear;
which he executed with considerable effect. The bowmen and darters of
the Greeks, few in number, were at the same time inferior to those of
the Persians; and when Xenophon employed his rear-guard, heavy-armed
foot-soldiers and light-armed foot-soldiers, to charge and repel them,
he not only could never overtake any one, but suffered much in getting
back to rejoin his own main body. Even when retiring, the Persian
horseman could discharge his arrow or cast his javelin[51] behind him
with effect; a dexterity which the Parthians exhibited afterwards still
more signally, and which the Persian horsemen of the present day
parallel with their carbines.[52] This was the first experience which
the Greeks had of marching under the harassing attack of cavalry. Even
the small detachment of Mithridatęs greatly delayed their progress; so
that they accomplished little more than two miles, reaching the villages
in the evening, with many wounded, and much discouragement.

"Thank Heaven" (said Xenophon in the evening, when Cheirisophus
reproached him for imprudence in quitting the main body to charge
cavalry, whom yet he could not reach), "Thank Heaven, that our enemies
attacked us with a small detachment only, and not with their great
numbers. They have given us a valuable lesson, without doing us any
serious harm." Profiting by the lesson, the Greek leaders organized
during the night and during the halt of the next day, a small body of
fifty cavalry; with 200 Rhodian[53] slingers, whose slings, furnished
with leaden bullets, both carried farther and struck harder than those
of the Persians hurling large stones. On the ensuing morning, they
started before daybreak, since there lay in their way a ravine
difficult to pass. They found the ravine undefended (according to the
usual stupidity of Persian proceedings), but when they had got nearly a
mile beyond it, Mithridatęs reappeared in pursuit with a body of 4000
horsemen and darters. Confident from his achievement of the preceding
day, he had promised, with a body of that force, to deliver the Greeks
into the hands of the satrap. But the latter were now better prepared.
As soon as he began to attack them, the trumpet sounded,--and forthwith
the horsemen, slingers, and darters, issued forth to charge the
Persians, sustained by the heavy-armed foot-soldiers in the rear. So
effective was the charge, that the Persians fled in dismay,
notwithstanding their superiority in number; while the ravine so impeded
their flight that many of them were slain, and eighteen prisoners made.
The Greek soldiers of their own accord mutilated the dead bodies, in
order to strike terror into the enemy. At the end of the day's march,
they reached the Tigris, near the deserted city of Larissa, the vast,
massive, and lofty brick walls of which (25 feet in thickness, 100 feet
high, seven miles in circumference) attested its former grandeur. Near
this place was a stone pyramid, 100 feet in breadth, and 200 feet high;
the summit of which was crowded with fugitives out of the neighboring
villages. Another day's march up the course of the Tigris brought the
army to a second deserted city called Mespila, nearly opposite to the
modern city of Mosul. Although these two cities, which seem to have
formed the continuation of (or the substitute for) the once colossal
Nineveh[54] or Ninus, were completely deserted,--yet the country around
them was so well furnished with villages and population, that the Greeks
not only obtained provisions, but also strings for the making of new
bows, and lead for bullets to be used by the slingers.

During the next day's march, in a course generally parallel with the
Tigris, and ascending the stream, Tissaphernęs, coming up along with
some other grandees, and with a numerous army, enveloped the Greeks both
in flanks and rear. In spite of his advantage of numbers, he did not
venture upon any actual charge, but kept up a fire of arrows, darts, and
stones. He was however so well answered by the newly-trained archers and
slingers of the Greeks, that on the whole they had the advantage, in
spite of the superior size of the Persian bows, many of which were taken
and effectively employed on the Grecian side. Having passed the night in
a well-stocked village, they halted there the next day in order to stock
themselves with provisions, and then pursued their march for four
successive days along a level country, until on the fifth day they
reached hilly ground with the prospect of still higher hills beyond. All
this march was made under unremitting annoyance from the enemy, insomuch
that though the order of the Greeks was never broken, a considerable
number of their men were wounded. Experience taught them, that it was
inconvenient for the whole army to march in one inflexible, undivided,
hollow square; and they accordingly constituted six regiments of 100 men
each, subdivided into companies of 50, and smaller companies of 25, each
with a special officer (conformably to the Spartan practice) to move
separately on each flank, and either to fall back, or fall in, as might
suit the fluctuations of the central mass, arising from impediments in
the road or menaces of the enemy. On reaching the hills, in sight of an
elevated citadel or palace, with several villages around it, the Greeks
anticipated some remission of the Persian attack. But after having
passed over one hill, they were proceeding to ascend the second, when
they found themselves assailed with unwonted vigor by the Persian
cavalry from the summit of it, whose leaders were seen flogging on the
men to the attack. This charge was so efficacious, that the Greek light
troops were driven in with loss, and forced to take shelter within the
ranks of the heavy-armed foot-soldiers. After a march both slow and full
of suffering, they could only reach their night-quarters by sending a
detachment to get possession of some ground above the Persians, who thus
became afraid of a double attack.

The villages which they now reached were unusually rich in provisions;
magazines of flour, barley, and wine, having been collected there for
the Persian satrap. They reposed here three days, chiefly in order to
tend the numerous wounded, for whose necessities, eight of the most
competent persons were singled out to act as surgeons. On the fourth day
they resumed their march, descending into the plain. But experience had
now satisfied them that it was imprudent to continue in march under the
attack of cavalry, so that when Tissaphernęs appeared and began to
harass them, they halted at the first village, and when thus in station,
easily repelled him. As the afternoon advanced, the Persian assailants
began to retire; for they were always in the habit of taking up their
night-post at a distance of near seven miles from the Grecian position;
being very apprehensive of nocturnal attack in their camp, when their
horses were tied by the leg and without either saddle or bridle. As
soon as they had departed, the Greeks resumed their march, and made so
much advance during the night, that the Persians did not overtake them
either on the next day or the day after.

On the ensuing day, however, the Persians, having made a forced march by
night, were seen not only in advance of the Greeks, but in occupation of
a spur of high and precipitous ground overhanging immediately the road
whereby the Greeks were to descend into the plain. When Cheirisophus
approached, he at once saw that descent was impracticable in the face of
an enemy thus posted. He therefore halted, sent for Xenophon from the
rear, and desired him to bring forward the light-armed foot-soldiers to
the van. But Xenophon, though he obeyed the summons in person and
galloped his horse to the front, did not think it prudent to move the
light-armed foot-soldiers from the rear, because he saw Tissaphernęs,
with another portion of the army, just coming up; so that the Grecian
army was at once impeded in front, and threatened by the enemy closing
upon them behind. The Persians on the high ground in front could not be
directly assailed. But Xenophon observed, that on the right of the
Grecian army, there was an accessible mountain summit yet higher, from
whence a descent might be made for a flank attack upon the Persian
position. Pointing out this summit to Cheirisophus, as affording the
only means of dislodging the troops in front, he urged that one of them
should immediately hasten with a detachment to take possession of it and
offered to Cheirisophus the choice either of going, or staying with the
army. "Choose for yourself," said Cheirisophus. "Well then (said
Xenophon), I will go; since I am the younger of the two." Accordingly,
at the head of a select detachment from the van and centre of the army,
he immediately commenced his flank march up the steep ascent to this
highest summit. So soon as the enemy saw their purpose, they also
detached troops on their side, hoping to get to the summit first; and
the two detachments were seen mounting at the same time, each struggling
with the utmost efforts to get before the other,--each being encouraged
by shouts and clamor from the two armies respectively.

As Xenophon was riding by the side of his soldiers, cheering them on and
reminding them that their chance of seeing their country and their
families all depended upon success in the effort before them, a
Sikyonian heavy-armed foot-soldier in the ranks, named Sotęridas, said
to him--"You and I are not on an equal footing, Xenophon. You are on
horseback:--I am painfully struggling upon foot, with my shield to
carry." Stung with this taunt, Xenophon sprang from his horse, pushed
Sotęridas out of his place in the ranks, took his shield as well as his
place, and began to march forward afoot along with the rest. Though thus
weighed down at once by the shield belonging to a heavy-armed
foot-soldier, and by the heavy cuirass[55] of a horseman (who carried no
shield), he nevertheless put forth all his strength to advance under
such double incumbrance, and to continue his incitement to the rest. But
the soldiers around him were so indignant at the proceeding of
Sotęridas, that they reproached and even struck him, until they
compelled him to resume his shield as well as his place in the ranks.
Xenophon then remounted and ascended the hill on horseback as far as the
ground permitted; but was obliged again to dismount presently, in
consequence of the steepness of the uppermost portion. Such energetic
efforts enabled him and his detachment to reach the summit first. As
soon as the enemy saw this, they desisted from their ascent, and
dispersed in all directions; leaving the forward march open to the main
Grecian army, which Cheirisophus accordingly conducted safely down into
the plain. Here he was rejoined by Xenophon on descending from the
summit. All found themselves in comfortable quarters, amidst several
well-stocked villages on the banks of the Tigris. They acquired moreover
an additional booty of large droves of cattle, intercepted when on the
point of being transported across the river; where a considerable body
of horse was seen assembled on the opposite bank.

Though here disturbed only by some desultory attacks on the part of the
Persians, who burnt several of the villages which lay in their forward
line of march, the Greeks became seriously embarrassed whither to direct
their steps; for on their left flank was the Tigris, so deep that their
spears found no bottom,--and on their right, mountains of exceeding
height. As the generals and the captains were taking counsel, a Rhodian
soldier came to them with a proposition for transporting the whole army
across to the other bank of the river by means of inflated skins, which
could be furnished in abundance by the animals in their possession. But
this ingenious scheme, in itself feasible, was put out of the question
by the view of the Persian cavalry on the opposite bank; and as the
villages in their front had been burnt, the army had no choice except to
return back one day's march to those in which they had before halted.
Here the generals again deliberated, questioning all their prisoners as
to the different bearings of the country. The road from the south was
that in which they had already marched from Babylon and Media; that to
the westward, going to Lydia and Ionia, was barred to them by the
interposing Tigris; eastward (they were informed) was the way to
Ekbatana and Susa; northward, lay the rugged and inhospitable mountains
of the Karduchians,--fierce freemen who despised the Great King, and
defied all his efforts to conquer them; having once destroyed a Persian
invading army of 120,000 men. On the other side of Karduchia, however,
lay the rich Persian satrapy of Armenia, wherein both the Euphratęs and
the Tigris could be crossed near their sources, and from whence they
could choose their farther course easily towards Greece. Like Mysia,
Pisidia, and other mountainous regions, Karduchia was a free territory
surrounded on all sides by the dominions of the Great King, who reigned
only in the cities and on the plains.


§ 7. The Greeks fight their way across the Karduchian mountains.

Determining to fight their way across these difficult mountains into
Armenia, but refraining from any public announcement, for fear that the
passes should be occupied beforehand--the generals sacrificed[56]
forthwith, in order that they might be ready for breaking up at a
moment's notice. They then began their march a little after midnight, so
that soon after daybreak they reached the first of the Karduchian
mountain-passes, which they found undefended. Cheirisophus, with his
front division and all the light troops, made haste to ascend the pass,
and having got over the first mountain, descended on the other side to
some villages in the valley or nooks beneath; while Xenophon, with the
heavy-armed and the baggage, followed at a slower pace,--not reaching
the villages until dark, as the road was both steep and narrow. The
Karduchians, taken completely by surprise, abandoned the villages as the
Greeks approached, and took refuge on the mountains; leaving to the
intruders plenty of provisions, comfortable houses, and especially,
abundance of copper vessels. At first the Greeks were careful to do no
damage, trying to invite the natives to amicable colloquy. But none of
the latter would come near, and at length necessity drove the Greeks to
take what was necessary for refreshment. It was just when Xenophon and
the rear-guard were coming in at night, that some few Karduchians first
set upon them; by surprise and with considerable success--so that if
their numbers had been greater, serious mischief might have ensued.

Many fires were discovered burning on the mountains, an indication of
resistance during the next day; which satisfied the Greek generals that
they must lighten the army, in order to ensure greater expedition as
well as a fuller complement of available hands during the coming march.
They therefore gave orders to burn all the baggage except what was
indispensable, and to dismiss all the prisoners; planting themselves in
a narrow strait, through which the army had to pass, in order to see
that their directions were executed. The women, however, of whom there
were many with the army, could not be abandoned; and it seems farther
that a considerable stock of baggage was still retained: nor could the
army make more than slow advance, from the narrowness of the road and
the harassing attack of the Karduchians, who were now assembled in
considerable numbers. Their attack was renewed with double vigor on the
ensuing day, when the Greeks were forced, from want of provisions, to
hasten forward their march, though in the midst of a terrible
snow-storm. Both Cheirisophus in the front and Xenophon in the rear,
were hard pressed by the Karduchian slingers and bowmen; the latter, men
of consummate skill, having bows three cubits[57] in length, and arrows
of more than two cubits, so strong that the Greeks when they took them
could dart them as javelins. These archers, amidst the rugged ground and
narrow paths, approached so near and drew the bow with such surprising
force, resting one extremity of it on the ground, that several Greek
warriors were mortally wounded even through both shield and corselet[58]
into the reins,[59] and through the brazen helmet into their heads;
among them especially, two distinguished men, a Lacedćmonian named
Kleonymus and an Arcadian named Basias. The rear division, more roughly
handled than the rest, was obliged continually to halt to repel the
enemy, under all the difficulties of the ground, which made it scarcely
possible to act against nimble mountaineers. On one occasion, however, a
body of these latter were entrapped into an ambush, driven back with
loss, and (what was still more fortunate) two of their number were made
prisoners.

Thus impeded, Xenophon sent frequent messages entreating Cheirisophus to
slacken the march of the van division; but instead of obeying,
Cheirisophus only hastened the faster, urging Xenophon to follow him.
The march of the army became little better than a rout, so that the rear
division reached the halting place in extreme confusion; upon which
Xenophon proceeded to remonstrate with Cheirisophus for prematurely
hurrying forward and neglecting his comrades behind. But the
other--pointing out to his attention the hill before them, and the steep
path ascending it, forming their future line of march, which was beset
with numerous Karduchians--defended himself by saying that he had
hastened forward in hopes of being able to reach this pass before the
enemy, in which attempt however he had not succeeded.

To advance farther on this road appeared hopeless; yet the guides
declared that no other could be taken. Xenophon then bethought him of
the two prisoners whom he had just captured, and proposed that these two
should be questioned also. They were accordingly interrogated apart; and
the first of them--having persisted in denying, notwithstanding all
menaces, that there was any road except that before them--was put to
death under the eyes of the second prisoner. This latter, on being then
questioned, gave more comfortable intelligence; saying that he knew of a
different road, more circuitous, but easier and practicable even for
beasts of burden, whereby the pass before them and the occupying enemy
might be turned; but that there was one particular high position
commanding the road, which it was necessary to master beforehand by
surprise, as the Karduchians were already on guard there. Two thousand
Greeks, having the guide bound along with them, were accordingly
despatched late in the afternoon, to surprise this post by a
night-march; while Xenophon, in order to distract the attention of the
Karduchians in front, made a feint of advancing as if about to force the
direct pass. As soon as he was seen crossing the ravine which led to
this mountain, the Karduchians on the top immediately began to roll down
vast masses of rock, which bounded and dashed down the roadway in such a
manner as to render it unapproachable. They continued to do this all
night, and the Greeks heard the noise of the descending masses long
after they had returned to their camp for supper and rest.

Meanwhile the detachment of 2000, marching by the circuitous road, and
reaching in the night the elevated position (though there was another
above yet more commanding) held by the Karduchians, surprised and
dispersed them, passing the night by their fires. At daybreak, and under
favor of a mist, they stole silently towards the position occupied by
the other Karduchians in front of the main Grecian army. On coming near
they suddenly sounded their trumpets, shouted aloud, and commenced the
attack, which proved completely successful. The defenders, taken
unprepared, fled with little resistance, and scarcely any loss, from
their activity and knowledge of the country; while Cheirisophus and the
main Grecian force, on hearing the trumpet which had been previously
concerted as the signal, rushed forward and stormed the height in front;
some along the regular path; others climbing up as they could and
pulling each other up by means of their spears. The two bodies of Greeks
thus joined each other on the summit, so that the road became open for
farther advance.

Xenophon, however, with the rear-guard marched on the circuitous road
taken by the 2000, as the most practicable for the baggage animals, whom
he placed in the centre of his division--the whole array covering a
great length of ground, since the road was very narrow. During this
interval the dispersed Karduchians had rallied, and reoccupied two or
three high peaks, commanding the road--from whence it was necessary to
drive them. Xenophon's troops stormed successively these three
positions, the Karduchians not daring to come to close combat, yet
making destructive use of their missiles. A Grecian guard was left on
the hindermost of the three peaks, until all the baggage train should
have passed by. But the Karduchians, by a sudden and well-timed
movement, contrived to surprise this guard, slew two out of the three
leaders with several soldiers, and forced the rest to jump down the
crags as they could, in order to join their comrades in the road.
Encouraged by such success the assailants pressed nearer to the marching
army, occupying a crag over against that lofty summit on which Xenophon
was posted. As it was within speaking distance, he endeavored to open a
negotiation with them in order to get back the bodies of the slain. To
this demand the Karduchians at first acceded, on condition that their
villages should not be burnt; but finding their numbers every moment
increasing, they resumed the offensive. When Xenophon with the army had
begun his descent from the last summit, they hurried onward in crowds to
occupy it; beginning again to roll down masses of rock, and renew their
fire of missiles, upon the Greeks. Xenophon himself was here in some
danger, having been deserted by his shield-bearer; but he was rescued by
an Arcadian heavy-armed foot-soldier named Eurylochus, who ran to give
him the benefit of his own shield as a protection for both in the
retreat.

After a march thus painful and perilous, the rear division at length
found themselves in safety among their comrades, in villages with
well-stocked houses and abundance of corn and wine. So eager however
were Xenophon and Cheirisophus to obtain the bodies of the slain for
burial, that they consented to purchase them by surrendering the guide,
and to march onward without any guide: a heavy sacrifice in this unknown
country, attesting their great anxiety about the burial.[60]

For three more days did they struggle and fight their way through the
narrow and rugged paths of the Karduchian mountains, beset throughout by
these formidable bowmen and slingers; whom they had to dislodge at every
difficult turn, and against whom their own Kretan[61] bowmen were found
inferior indeed, but still highly useful. Their seven days' march
through this country, with its free and warlike inhabitants, were days
of the utmost fatigue, suffering, and peril; far more intolerable than
any thing which they had experienced from Tissaphernęs and the Persians.
Right glad were they once more to see a plain, and to find themselves
near the banks of the river Kentritęs, which divided these mountains
from the hillocks and plains of Armenia--enjoying comfortable quarters
in villages, with the satisfaction of talking over past miseries.

Such were the apprehensions of Karduchian invasion, that the Armenian
side of the Kentritęs for a breadth of 15 miles was unpeopled and
destitute of villages. But the approach of the Greeks having become
known to Tiribazus, satrap of Armenia, the banks of the river were lined
with his cavalry and infantry to oppose their passage; a precaution,
which if Tissaphernęs had taken at the Great Zab at the moment when he
perfidiously seized Klearchus and his colleagues, the Greeks would
hardly have reached the northern bank of that river. In the face of such
obstacles, the Greeks nevertheless attempted the passage of the
Kentritęs, seeing a regular road on the other side. But the river was
200 feet in breadth (only half the breadth of the Zab), above their
breasts in depth, extremely rapid, and with a bottom full of slippery
stones; insomuch that they could not hold their shields in the proper
position, from the force of the stream; while if they lifted the shields
above their heads, they were exposed defenceless to the arrows of the
satrap's troops. After various trials, the passage was found
impracticable, and they were obliged to resume their encampment on the
left bank. To their great alarm, they saw the Karduchians assembling on
the hills in their rear, so that their situation, during this day and
night, appeared nearly desperate. In the night Xenophon had a dream--the
first which he has told us since his dream on the terrific night after
the seizure of the generals--but on this occasion, of augury[62] more
unequivocally good. He dreamt that he was bound in chains, but that his
chains on a sudden dropt off spontaneously; on the faith of which, he
told Cheirisophus at daybreak that he had good hopes of preservation;
and when the generals offered sacrifice, the victims were at once
favorable. As the army were taking their morning meal, two young Greeks
ran to Xenophon with the auspicious news that they had accidentally
found another ford near half a mile up the river, where the water was
not even up to their middle, and where the rocks came so close on the
right bank that the enemy's horse could offer no opposition. Xenophon,
starting from his meal in delight, immediately offered libations[63] to
those gods who had revealed both the dream to himself in the night, and
the unexpected ford afterwards to these youths; two revelations which he
ascribed to the same gods.

Presently they marched in their usual order, Cheirisophus commanding the
van and Xenophon the rear, along the river to the newly-discovered ford;
the enemy marching parallel with them on the opposite bank. Having
reached the ford, halted, and grounded arms, Cheirisophus placed a
wreath on his head, took off his clothes, and then resumed his arms,
ordering all the rest to resume their arms also. Each company of 100 men
was then arranged in column or single file, with Cheirisophus himself in
the centre. Meanwhile the prophets were offering sacrifice to the river.
So soon as the signs were pronounced to be favorable, all the soldiers
shouted the pćan, and all the women joined in chorus with their feminine
yell. Cheirisophus then, at the head of the army, entered the river and
began to ford it; while Xenophon, with a large portion of the rear
division, made a feint of hastening back to the original ford, as if he
were about to attempt the passage there. This distracted the attention
of the enemy's horse; who became afraid of being attacked on both sides,
galloped off to guard the passage at the other point, and opposed no
serious resistance to Cheirisophus. As soon as the latter had reached
the other side, and put his division into order, he marched up to
attack the Armenian infantry, who were on the high banks a little way
above; but this infantry, deserted by its cavalry, dispersed without
awaiting his approach. The handful of Grecian cavalry, attached to the
division of Cheirisophus, pursued and took some valuable spoils.

As soon as Xenophon saw his colleague successfully established on the
opposite bank, he brought back his detachment to the ford over which the
baggage and attendants were still passing, and proceeded to take
precautions against the Karduchians on his own side who were assembling
in the rear. He found some difficulty in keeping his rear division
together, for many of them, in spite of orders, quitted their ranks and
went to look after the women or their baggage in the crossing of the
water. The light-armed foot-soldiers and bowmen, who had gone over with
Cheirisophus, but whom that general now no longer needed, were directed
to hold themselves prepared on both flanks of the army crossing, and to
advance a little way in the water in the attitude of men just about to
recross. When Xenophon was left with only the diminished rear-guard, the
rest having got over,--the Karduchians rushed upon him, and began to
shoot and sling. But on a sudden, the Grecian heavy-armed foot-soldiers
charged with their accustomed pćan, upon which the Karduchians took to
flight--having no arms for close combat on the plain. The trumpet now
being heard to sound, they ran away so much the faster; while this was
the signal, according to orders before given by Xenophon, for the Greeks
to suspend their charge, to turn back, and to cross the river as
speedily as possible. By favor of this able manoeuvre, the passage was
accomplished by the whole army with little or no loss, about midday.


§ 8. March through Armenia. Great suffering from cold and hunger.

They now found themselves in Armenia; a country of even, undulating
surface, but very high above the level of the sea, and extremely cold at
the season when they entered it--December. Though the strip of land
bordering on Karduchia furnished no supplies, one long march brought
them to a village, containing abundance of provisions, together with a
residence of the satrap Tiribazus; after which, in two farther marches
they reached the river Teleboas, with many villages on its banks. Here
Tiribazus himself, appearing with a division of cavalry, sent forward
his interpreter to request a conference with the leaders; which being
held, it was agreed that the Greeks should proceed unmolested through
his territory, taking such supplies as they required,--but should
neither burn nor damage the villages. They accordingly advanced onward
for three days, computed at about 52 miles, or three pretty full days'
march; without any hostility from the satrap, though he was hovering
within less than two miles of them. They then found themselves amidst
several villages, wherein were regal or satrapical residences with a
plentiful stock of bread, meat, wine, and all sorts of vegetables. Here,
during their nightly bivouac,[64] they were overtaken by so heavy a fall
of snow that the generals on the next day distributed the troops into
separate quarters among the villages. No enemy appeared near, while the
snow seemed to forbid any rapid surprise. Yet at night, the scouts
reported that many fires were discernible, together with traces of
military movements around; insomuch that the generals thought it prudent
to put themselves on their guard, and again collected the army into one
bivouac. Here in the night they were overwhelmed by a second fall of
snow still heavier than the preceding; sufficient to cover over the
sleeping men and their arms, and to benumb the cattle. The men however
lay warm under the snow and were unwilling to rise, until Xenophon
himself set the example of rising and employing himself without his arms
in cutting wood and kindling a fire. Others followed his example, and
great comfort was found in rubbing themselves with pork-fat, oil of
almonds or of sesame,[65] or turpentine. Having sent out a clever scout
named Demokratęs, who captured a native prisoner, they learned that
Tiribazus was laying plans to intercept them in a lofty mountain pass
lying farther on in their route; upon which they immediately set forth,
and by two days of forced march, surprising in their way the camp of
Tiribazus, got over the difficult pass in safety. Three days of
additional march brought them to the Euphratęs river--that is, to its
eastern branch, now called Murad. They found a ford and crossed it,
without having the water higher than the waist; and they were informed
that its sources were not far off.

Their four days of march, next on the other side of the Euphratęs, were
toilsome and distressing in the extreme; through a plain covered with
deep snow (in some places six feet deep), and at times in the face of a
north wind so intolerably chilling and piercing, that at length one of
the prophets urged the necessity of offering sacrifices to Boreas[66];
upon which (says Xenophon), the severity of the wind abated
conspicuously, to the evident consciousness of all. Many of the slaves
and beasts of burthen, and a few even of the soldiers, perished: some
had their feet frost-bitten, others became blinded by the snow, others
again were exhausted by hunger. Several of these unhappy men were
unavoidably left behind; others lay down to perish, near a warm spring
which had melted the snow around, from extremity of fatigue and sheer
wretchedness, though the enemy were close upon the rear. It was in vain
that Xenophon, who commanded the rear-guard, employed his earnest
exhortations, prayers, and threats, to induce them to move forward. The
sufferers, miserable and motionless, answered only by entreating him to
kill them at once. So greatly was the army disorganized by wretchedness,
that we hear of one case in which a soldier, ordered to carry a disabled
comrade, disobeyed the order, and was about to bury him alive. Xenophon
made a sally, with loud shouts and clatter of spear with shield, in
which even the exhausted men joined,--against the pursuing enemy. He was
fortunate enough to frighten them away, and drive them to take shelter
in a neighboring wood. He then left the sufferers lying down, with
assurance that relief should be sent to them on the next day,--and went
forward; seeing all along the line of march the exhausted soldiers lying
on the snow, without even the protection of a watch. He and his
rear-guard as well as the rest were obliged thus to pass the night
without either food or fire, distributing scouts in the best way that
the case admitted. Meanwhile Cheirisophus with the van division had got
into a village, which they reached so unexpectedly, that they found the
women fetching water from a fountain outside the wall, and the head-man
of the village in his house within. This division here obtained rest and
refreshment, and at daybreak some of their soldiers were sent to look
after the rear. It was with delight that Xenophon saw them approach, and
sent them back to bring up in their arms, into the neighboring village,
those exhausted soldiers who had been left behind.

Repose was now indispensable after the recent sufferings. There were
several villages near at hand, and the generals, thinking it no longer
dangerous to divide the army, quartered the different divisions among
them according to lot. Polykratęs an Athenian, one of the captains in
the division of Xenophon, requested his permission to go at once and
take possession of the village assigned to him, before any of the
inhabitants could escape. Accordingly, running at speed with a few of
the swiftest soldiers, he came upon the village so suddenly as to seize
the head-man with his newly-married daughter, and several young horses
intended as a tribute for the king. This village, as well as the rest,
was found to consist of houses excavated in the ground (as the Armenian
villages are at the present day), spacious within, but with a narrow
mouth like a well, entered by a descending ladder. A separate entrance
was dug for conveniently admitting the cattle. All of them were found
amply stocked with live cattle of every kind, wintered upon hay; as well
as with wheat, barley, vegetables, and a sort of barley-wine or beer in
tubs, with the grains of barley on the surface. Reeds or straws without
any joint in them, were lying near, through which they sucked the
liquid: Xenophon did his utmost to conciliate the head-man (who spoke
Persian, and with whom he communicated through the Perso-Grecian
interpreter of the army), promising him that not one of his relations
should be maltreated, and that he should be fully remunerated if he
would conduct the army safely out of the country, into that of the
Chalybes which he described as being adjacent. By such treatment the
head-man was won over, promised his aid, and even revealed to the Greeks
the subterranean cellars wherein the wine was deposited; while Xenophon,
though he kept him constantly under watch, and placed his youthful son
as a hostage under the care of Episthenęs, yet continued to treat him
with studied attention and kindness. For seven days did the fatigued
soldiers remain in these comfortable quarters, refreshing themselves and
regaining strength. They were waited upon by the native youths, with
whom they communicated by means of signs. The uncommon happiness which
all of them enjoyed after their recent sufferings, stands depicted in
the lively details given by Xenophon, who left here his own exhausted
horse, and took young horses in exchange, for himself and the other
officers.

After this week of repose, the army resumed its march through the snow.
The head-man, whose house they had replenished as well as they could,
accompanied Cheirisophus in the van as guide, but was not put in chains
or under guard: his son remained as an hostage with Episthenęs, but his
other relations were left unmolested at home. As they marched for three
days, without reaching a village, Cheirisophus began to suspect his
fidelity, and even became so out of humor, though the man affirmed that
there were no villages in the track, as to beat him--yet without the
precaution of putting him afterwards in fetters. The next night,
accordingly, this head-man made his escape; much to the displeasure of
Xenophon, who severely reproached Cheirisophus first for his harshness,
and next for his neglect. This was the only point of difference between
the two (says Xenophon) during the whole march; a fact very honorable to
both, considering the numberless difficulties against which they had to
contend. Episthenęs retained the head-man's youthful son, carried him
home in safety, and became much attached to him.

Condemned thus to march without a guide, they could do no better than
march up the course of the river; and thus, from the villages which had
proved so cheering and restorative, they proceeded seven days' march all
through snow, up the river Phasis; a river not verifiable, but certainly
not the same as is commonly known under that name by Grecian
geographers: it was 100 feet in breadth. Two more days' march brought
them from this river to the foot of a range of mountains near a pass
occupied by an armed body of Chalybes, Taochi, and Phasiani.

Observing the enemy in possession of this lofty ground, Cheirisophus
halted until all the army came up, in order that the generals might take
counsel. Here Kleanor began by advising that they should storm the pass
with no greater delay than was necessary to refresh the soldiers. But
Xenophon suggested that it was far better to avoid the loss of life
which must be incurred, and to amuse the enemy by feigned attack, while
a detachment should be sent by stealth at night to ascend the mountain
at another point and turn the position. "However (continued he, turning
to Cheirisophus), stealing a march upon the enemy is more your trade
than mine. For I understand that you the full citizens and peers at
Sparta, practise stealing from your boyhood upward; and that it is held
noway base, but even honorable, to steal such things as the law does not
distinctly forbid. And to the end that you may steal with the greatest
effect, and take pains to do it in secret, the custom is, to flog you if
you are found out. Here then, you have an excellent opportunity of
displaying your training. Take good care that we be not found out in
stealing an occupation of the mountain now before us; for if we _are_
found out, we shall be well beaten."

"Why, as for that (replied Cheirisophus), you Athenians also, as I
learn, are capital hands at stealing the public money--and that too in
spite of prodigious peril to the thief: nay, your most powerful men
steal most of all--at least if it be the most powerful men among you who
are raised to official command. So that this is a time for _you_ to
exhibit _your_ training, as well as for me to exhibit mine."

We have here an interchange of raillery between the two Grecian
officers, which is not an uninteresting feature in the history of the
expedition. The remark of Cheirisophus, especially, illustrates that
which I noted in a former chapter as true both of Sparta and Athens--the
readiness to take bribes, so general in individuals clothed with
official power; and the readiness, in official Athenians, to commit such
peculation, in spite of serious risk of punishment. Now this chance of
punishment proceeded altogether from those accusing orators commonly
called demagogues,[67] and from the popular judicature whom they
addressed. The joint working of both greatly abated the evil, yet was
incompetent to suppress it. But according to the pictures commonly
drawn of Athens, we are instructed to believe that the crying public
evil was,--too great a license of accusation, and too much judicial
trial. Assuredly such was not the conception of Cheirisophus; nor shall
we find it borne out by any fair appreciation of the general evidence.
When the peculation of official persons was thus notorious in spite of
serious risks, what would it have become if the door had been barred to
accusing demagogues, and if the numerous popular judges[68] had been
exchanged for a select few judges of the same stamp and class as the
official men themselves?

Enforcing his proposition, Xenophon now informed his colleagues that he
had just captured a few guides, by laying an ambush for certain native
plunderers who beset the rear; and that these guides acquainted him that
the mountain was not inaccessible, but pastured by goats and oxen. He
farther offered himself to take command of the marching detachment. But
this being overruled by Cheirisophus, some of the best among the
captains, Aristonymus, Aristeas, and Nikomachus, volunteered their
services and were accepted. After refreshing the soldiers, the generals
marched with the main army near to the foot of the pass, and there took
up their night-station, making demonstrations of a purpose to storm it
the next morning. But as soon as it was dark, Aristonymus and his
detachment started, and ascending the mountain at another point,
obtained without resistance a high position on the flank of the enemy,
who soon however saw them and despatched a force to keep guard on that
side. At daybreak those two detachments came to conflict on the heights,
in which the Greeks were completely victorious; while Cheirisophus was
marching up the pass to attack the main body. His light troops,
encouraged by seeing this victory of their comrades, hastened on to the
charge faster than their heavy-armed foot-soldiers could follow. But the
enemy were so dispirited by seeing themselves turned, that they fled
with little or no resistance. Though only a few were slain, many threw
away their light shields of wicker or woodwork, which became the prey of
the conquerors.

Thus masters of the pass, the Greeks descended to the level ground on
the other side, where they found themselves in some villages
well-stocked with provisions and comforts; the first in the country of
the Taochi. Probably they halted here some days; for they had seen no
villages, either for rest or for refreshment, during the last nine days'
march, since leaving those Armenian villages in which they had passed a
week so eminently restorative, and which apparently had furnished them
with a stock of provisions for the onward journey. Such halt gave time
to the Taochi to carry up their families and provisions into
inaccessible strongholds, so that the Greeks found no supplies, during
five days' march through the territory. Their provisions were completely
exhausted, when they arrived before one of these strongholds, a rock on
which were seen the families and the cattle of the Taochi; without
houses or fortification, but nearly surrounded by a river, so as to
leave only one narrow ascent, rendered unapproachable by vast rocks
which the defenders hurled or rolled from the summit. By an ingenious
combination of bravery and stratagem, in which some of the captains much
distinguished themselves, the Greeks overcame this difficulty, and took
the height. The scene which then ensued was awful. The Taochian women
seized their children, flung them over the precipice, and then cast
themselves headlong also, followed by the men. Almost every soul thus
perished, very few surviving to become prisoners. An Arcadian captain
named Ćneas, seeing one of them in a fine dress about to precipitate
himself with the rest, seized him with a view to prevent it. But the man
in return grasped him firmly, dragged him to the edge of the rock, and
leaped down to the destruction of both. Though scarcely any prisoners
were taken, however, the Greeks obtained abundance of oxen, asses, and
sheep, which fully supplied their wants.

They now entered into the territory of the Chalybes, which they were
seven days in passing through. These were the bravest warriors whom they
had seen in Asia. Their equipment was a spear of fifteen cubits long,
with only one end pointed--a helmet, greaves,[69] stuffed corselet, with
a kilt or dependent flaps--a short sword which they employed to cut off
the head of a slain enemy, displaying the head in sight of their
surviving enemies with triumphant dance and song. They carried no
shield; perhaps because the excessive length of the spear required the
constant employment of both hands--yet they did not shrink from meeting
the Greeks occasionally in regular, stand-up fight. As they had carried
off all their provisions into hill-forts, the Greeks could obtain no
supplies, but lived all the time upon the cattle which they had acquired
from the Taochi. After seven days of march and combat--the Chalybes
perpetually attacking their rear--they reached the river Harpasus (400
feet broad), where they passed into the territory of the Skythini. It
rather seems that the territory of the Chalybes was mountainous; that of
the Skythini was level, and contained villages, wherein they remained
three days, refreshing themselves, and stocking themselves with
provisions.


§ 9. The Greeks come in sight of the Black Sea.

Four days of additional march brought them to a sight, the like of which
they had not seen since Opis and Sittakę on the Tigris in Babylonia--a
large and flourishing city called Gymnias; an indication of the
neighborhood of the sea, of commerce, and of civilization. The chief of
this city received them in a friendly manner, and furnished them with a
guide, who engaged to conduct them, after five days' march, to a hill
from whence they would have a view of the sea. This was by no means
their nearest way to the sea, for the chief of Gymnias wished to send
them through the territory of some neighbors to whom he was hostile;
which territory, as soon as they reached it, the guide desired them to
burn and destroy. However, the promise was kept, and on the fifth day,
marching still apparently through the territory of the Skythini, they
reached the summit of a mountain called Thęchęs, from whence the Euxine
Sea was visible.

An animated shout from the soldiers who formed the van-guard testified
the impressive effect of this long-deferred spectacle, assuring, as it
seemed to do, their safety and their return home. To Xenophon and to the
rear-guard--engaged in repelling the attack of natives who had come
forward to revenge the plunder of their territory--the shout was
unintelligible. They at first imagined that the natives had commenced
attack in front as well as in the rear, and that the van-guard was
engaged in battle. But every moment the shout became louder, as fresh
men came to the summit and gave vent to their feelings; so that Xenophon
grew anxious, and galloped up to the van with his handful of cavalry to
see what had happened. As he approached, the voice of the overjoyed
crowd was heard distinctly crying out _Thalatta! Thalatta!_ (The sea!
the sea!), and congratulating each other in ecstasy. The main body, the
rear-guard, the baggage-soldiers driving up their horses and cattle
before them, became all excited by the sound, and hurried up breathless
to the summit. The whole army, officers and soldiers, were thus
assembled, manifesting their joyous emotions by tears, embraces, and
outpourings of enthusiastic sympathy. With spontaneous impulse they
heaped up stones to decorate the spot by a monument and commemorative
trophy; putting on the stones such homely offerings as their means
afforded--sticks, hides, and a few of the wicker shields just taken from
the natives. To the guide, who had performed his engagement of bringing
them in five days within sight of the sea, their gratitude was
unbounded. They presented him with a horse, a silver bowl, a Persian
costume, and ten darics[70] in money; besides several of the soldiers'
rings, which he especially asked for. Thus loaded with presents, he left
them, having first shown them a village wherein they could find
quarters--as well as the road which they were to take through the
territory of the Makrônes.

When they reached the river which divided the land of the Makrônes from
that of the Skythini, they perceived the former assembled in arms on
the opposite side to resist their passage. The river not being fordable,
they cut down some neighboring trees to provide the means of crossing.
While these Makrônes were shouting and encouraging each other aloud, a
light-armed foot-soldier in the Grecian army came to Xenophon, saying
that he knew their language, and that he believed this to be his
country. He had been a slave at Athens, exported from home during his
boyhood--he had then made his escape (probably during the Peloponnesian
War, to the garrison of Dekeleia), and afterwards taken military
service. By this fortunate accident, the generals were enabled to open
negotiations with the Makrônes, and to assure them that the army would
do them no harm, desiring nothing more than a free passage and a market
to buy provisions. The Makrônes, on receiving such assurances in their
own language from a countryman, exchanged pledges of friendship with the
Greeks, assisted them to pass the river, and furnished the best market
in their power during the three days' march across their territory.

The army now reached the borders of the Kolchians, who were found in
hostile array, occupying the summit of a considerable mountain which
formed their frontier. Here Xenophon, having marshalled the soldiers for
attack, with each company of 100 men in single file, instead of marching
up the hill in phalanx, or continuous front with only a scanty
depth--addressed to them the following pithy encouragement--"Now,
fellow-soldiers, these enemies before us are the only impediment that
keeps us away from reaching the point at which we have been so long
aiming. We must even eat them raw, if in any way we can do so."

Eighty of these formidable companies of heavy-armed foot-soldiers, each
in single file, now began to ascend the hill; the light-armed
foot-soldiers and bowmen being partly distributed among them, partly
placed on the flanks. Cheirisophus and Xenophon, each commanding on one
wing, spread their light-armed foot-soldiers in such a way as to
outflank the Kolchians, who accordingly weakened their centre in order
to strengthen their wings. Hence the Arcadian light-armed foot-soldiers
and heavy-armed foot-soldiers in the Greek centre were enabled to attack
and disperse the centre with little resistance; and all the Kolchians
presently fled, leaving the Greeks in possession of their camp, as well
as of several well-stocked villages in their rear. Amidst these villages
the army remained to refresh themselves for several days. It was here
that they tasted the grateful, but unwholesome honey, which this region
still continues to produce--unaware of its peculiar properties. Those
soldiers who ate little of it were like men greatly intoxicated with
wine; those who ate much, were seized with the most violent vomiting and
diarrhoea, lying down like madmen in a state of delirium. From this
terrible distemper some recovered on the ensuing day, others two or
three days afterwards. It does not appear that any one actually died.

Two more days' march brought them to the sea, at the Greek maritime city
of Trapezus or Trebizond, founded by the inhabitants of Sinôpę on the
coast of the Kolchian territory. Here the Trapezuntines received them
with kindness and hospitality, sending them presents of bullocks,
barley-meal, and wine. Taking up their quarters in some Kolchian
villages near the town, they now enjoyed, for the first time since
leaving Tarsus, a safe and undisturbed repose during thirty days, and
were enabled to recover in some degree from the severe hardships which
they had undergone. While the Trapezuntines brought produce for sale
into the camp, the Greeks provided the means of purchasing it by
predatory incursions against the Kolchians on the hills. Those Kolchians
who dwelt under the hills and on the plain were in a state of
semi-dependence upon Trapezus; so that the Trapezuntines mediated on
their behalf and prevailed on the Greeks to leave them unmolested, on
condition of a contribution of bullocks.

These bullocks enabled the Greeks to discharge the vow which they had
made, on the proposition of Xenophon, to Zeus the Preserver, during that
moment of dismay and despair which succeeded immediately on the massacre
of their generals by Tissaphernęs. To Zeus the Preserver, to
Heraklęs[71] the Conductor, and to various other gods, they offered an
abundant sacrifice on their mountain camp overhanging the sea; and after
the festival ensuing, the skins of the victims were given as prizes to
competitors in running, wrestling, boxing, and other contests. The
superintendence of such festival games, so fully accordant with Grecian
usage and highly interesting to the army, was committed to a Spartan
named Drakontius; a man whose destiny recalls that of Patroklus and
other Homeric heroes--for he had been exiled as a boy, having
unintentionally killed another boy with a short sword. Various
departures from Grecian customs however were admitted. The matches took
place on the steep and stony hill-side overhanging the sea, instead of
on a smooth plain; and the numerous hard falls of the competitors
afforded increased interest to the by-standers. The captive non-Hellenic
boys were admitted to run for the prize, since otherwise a boy-race
could not have been obtained. ["Horses also ran; and they had to gallop
down the steep, and, turning round in the sea, to come up again to the
altar.[72] In the descent, many rolled down; but in the ascent, against
the exceedingly steep ground, the horses could scarcely get up at a
walking pace. There was consequently great shouting, and laughter, and
cheering from the people."[73]] Lastly, the animation of the scene, as
well as the ardor of the competitors, was much enhanced by the number of
the women present.


§ 10. The Greek cities on the Black Sea; their feelings toward the Ten
Thousand.

We now commence a third act in the history of this memorable body of
men. After having followed them from Sardis to Kunaxa as mercenaries[74]
to procure the throne for Cyrus--then from Kunaxa to Trapezus as men
anxious only for escape, and purchasing their safety by marvellous
bravery, endurance, and organization--we shall now track their
proceedings among the Greek colonies on the Euxine and at the Bosphorus
of Thrace, succeeded by their struggles against the meanness of the
Thracian prince Seuthęs, as well as against the treachery and arbitrary
harshness of the Lacedćmonian commanders Anaxibius and Aristarchus.

Trapezus, now Trebizond, where the army had recently found repose, was a
colony from Sinôpę, as were also Kerasus and Kotyôra farther westward;
each of them receiving a governor from the mother-city, and paying to
her an annual tribute. All these three cities were planted on the narrow
strip of land dividing the Euxine from the elevated mountain range
which so closely borders on its southern coast. At Sinôpę itself, the
land stretches out into a defensible peninsula, with a secure harbor,
and a large breadth of adjacent fertile soil. So tempting a site invited
the Milesians,[75] even before the year 600 B.C., to plant a colony
there, and enabled Sinôpę to attain much prosperity and power. Farther
westward, not more than a long day's journey for a rowing vessel from
Byzantium, was situated the Megarian[76] colony of Herakleia, in the
territory of the Mariandyni.

The native tenants of this line of coast, upon which the Greek settlers
intruded themselves (reckoning from the westward), were the Bythynian
Thracians, the Mariandyni, the Paphlagonians, the Tibaręni, Chalybes,
Mosynoeki, Drilć, and Kolchians. Here as elsewhere, these natives found
the Greek seaports useful, in giving a new value to inland produce, and
in furnishing the great men with ornaments and luxuries to which they
would otherwise have had no access. The citizens of Herakleia had
reduced into dependence a considerable portion of the neighboring
Mariandyni, and held them in a relation resembling that of the natives
of Esthonia and Lavonia to the German colonies in the Baltic. Some of
the Kolchian villages were also subject in the same manner to the
Trapezuntines; and Sinôpę doubtless possessed a similar inland dominion
of greater or less extent. But the principal wealth of this important
city arose from her navy and maritime commerce; from the rich thunny
fishery[77] attached to her promontory; from the olives in her
immediate neighborhood, which was a cultivation not indigenous, but only
naturalized by the Greeks on the seaboard; from the varied produce of
the interior, comprising abundant herds of cattle, mines of silver,
iron, and copper, in the neighboring mountains, wood for ship-building,
as well as for house-furniture, and native slaves. The case was similar
with the three colonies of Sinôpę, more to the eastward--Kotyôra,
Kerasus, and Trapezus; except that the mountains which border on the
Euxine, gradually approaching nearer and nearer to the shore, left to
each of them a more confined strip of cultivable land. For these cities
the time had not yet arrived to be conquered and absorbed by the inland
monarchies around them, as Miletus and the cities on the western coast
of Asia Minor had been. The Paphlagonians were at this time the only
native people in those regions who formed a considerable aggregated
force, under a prince named Korylas; a prince tributary to Persia, yet
half independent--since he had disobeyed the summons of Artaxerxęs to
come up and help in repelling Cyrus--and now on terms of established
alliance with Sinôpę, though not without secret designs, which he wanted
only force to execute, against that city. The other native tribes to the
eastward were mountaineers both ruder and more divided; warlike on their
own heights, but little capable of any aggressive combinations.

Though we are told that Periklęs had once despatched a detachment of
Athenian colonists to Sinôpę, and had expelled from thence the despot
Timesilaus,--yet neither that city nor any of her neighbors appear to
have taken part in the Peloponnesian war, either for or against Athens;
nor were they among the number of tributaries to Persia. They doubtless
were acquainted with the upward march of Cyrus, which had disturbed all
Asia; and probably were not ignorant of the perils and critical state of
his Grecian army. But it was with a feeling of mingled surprise,
admiration, and alarm, that they saw that army descend from the
mountainous region, hitherto only recognized as the abode of Kolchians,
Makrônes, and other analogous tribes, among whom was perched the mining
city of Gymnias.

Even after all the losses and extreme sufferings of the retreat the
Greeks still numbered, when mustered at Kerasus, 8600 heavy-armed
foot-soldiers, with light-armed foot-soldiers, bowmen, and slingers,
making a total of above 10,000 military persons. Such a force had never
before been seen in the Euxine. Considering both the numbers and the
now-acquired discipline and self-confidence of the Cyreians, even Sinôpę
herself could have raised no force capable of meeting them in the field.
Yet they did not belong to any city, nor receive orders from any
established government. They were like those mercenary armies which
marched about in Italy during the fourteenth century, under the generals
called Condottieri, taking service sometimes with one city, sometimes
with another. No one could predict what schemes they might conceive, or
in what manner they might deal with the established communities on the
shores of the Euxine. If we imagine that such an army had suddenly
appeared in Sicily, a little time before the Athenian expedition against
Syracuse, it would have been probably enlisted by Leontini and Katana in
their war against Syracuse. If the inhabitants of Trapezus had wished to
throw off the dominion of Sinôpę,--or if Korylas the Paphlagonian were
meditating war against that city--here were formidable auxiliaries to
second their wishes. Moreover there were various tempting sites, open to
the formation of a new colony, which, with so numerous a body of
original Greek settlers, would probably have overtopped Sinôpę herself.
There was no restraining cause to reckon upon, except the general
Hellenic sympathies and education of the Cyreian army; and what was of
not less importance, the fact that they were not mercenary soldiers by
permanent profession, such as became so formidably multiplied in Greece
during the next generation--but established citizens who had come out on
a special service under Cyrus, with the full intention, after a year of
lucrative enterprise, to return to their homes and families. We shall
find such gravitation towards home steadily operative throughout the
future proceedings of the army. But at the moment when they first
emerged from the mountains, no one could be sure that it would be so.
There was ample ground for uneasiness among the Euxine Greeks,
especially the Sinopians, whose supremacy had never before been
endangered.


§ 11. Plans of the army for the future.

An undisturbed repose of thirty days enabled the Cyreians to recover
from their fatigues, to talk over their past dangers, and to take pride
in the anticipated effect which their unparalleled achievement could not
fail to produce in Greece. Having discharged their vows and celebrated
their festival to the gods, they held an assembly to discuss their
future proceedings; when a Thurian[78] soldier named Antileon
exclaimed--"Comrades, I am already tired of packing up, marching,
running, carrying arms, falling into line, keeping watch, and fighting.
Now that we have the sea here before us, I desire to be relieved from
all these toils, to sail the rest of the way, and to arrive in Greece
outstretched and asleep, like Odysseus."[79] This pithy address being
received with vehement acclamations, and warmly responded to by all,
Cheirisophus offered, if the army chose to empower him, to sail
forthwith to Byzantium,[80] where he thought he could obtain from his
friend the Lacedćmonian admiral Anaxibius, sufficient vessels for
transport. His proposition was gladly accepted; and he departed to
execute the project.

Xenophon then urged upon the army various resolutions and measures,
proper for the regulation of affairs during the absence of Cheirisophus.
The army would be forced to maintain itself by marauding expeditions
among the hostile tribes in the mountains. Such expeditions accordingly
must be put under regulation: neither individual soldiers, nor small
companies, must be allowed to go out at pleasure, without giving notice
to the generals; moreover, the camp must be kept under constant guard
and scouts, in the event of surprise from a retaliating enemy. It was
prudent also to take the best measures in their power for procuring
vessels; since, after all, Cheirisophus might possibly fail in bringing
an adequate number. They ought to borrow a few ships of war from the
Trapezuntines, and detain all the merchant ships[81] which they saw;
unshipping the rudders, placing the cargoes under guard, and
maintaining the crew during all the time that the ships might be
required for transport of the army. Many such merchant vessels were
often sailing by; so that they would thus acquire the means of
transport, even though Cheirisophus should bring few or none from
Byzantium. Lastly, Xenophon proposed to require the Grecian cities to
repair and put in order the road along the coast, for a land-march;
since, perhaps, with all their efforts, it would be found impossible to
get together a sufficient stock of transports.

All the propositions of Xenophon were readily adopted by the army,
except the last. But the mere mention of a renewed land-march excited
such universal murmurs of repugnance, that he did not venture to put
that question to the vote. He took upon himself however to send messages
to the Grecian cities, on his own responsibility; urging them to repair
the roads, in order that the departure of the army might be facilitated.
And he found the cities ready enough to carry his wishes into effect, as
far as Kotyôra.

The wisdom of these precautionary suggestions of Xenophon soon appeared;
for Cheirisophus not only failed in his object, but was compelled to
stay away for a considerable time. An armed ship with fifty oars was
borrowed from the Trapezuntines, and committed to the charge of a
Lacedćmonian provincial, named Dexippus, for the purpose of detaining
the merchant vessels passing by. This man having violated his trust, and
employed the ship to make his own escape out of the Euxine, a second was
obtained and confided to an Athenian, Polykratęs; who brought in
successively several merchant vessels. These the Greeks did not
plunder, but secured the cargoes under adequate guard, and only reserved
the vessels for transports. It became however gradually more and more
difficult to supply the camp with provisions. Though the army was
distributed into suitable detachments for plundering the Kolchian
villages on the hills, and seizing cattle and prisoners for sale, yet
these expeditions did not always succeed; indeed on one occasion, two
Grecian companies got entangled in such difficult ground, that they were
destroyed to a man. The Kolchians united on the hills in increased and
menacing numbers, insomuch that a larger guard became necessary for the
camp; while the Trapezuntines--tired of the protracted stay of the army,
as well as desirous of exempting from pillage the natives in their own
immediate neighborhood--conducted the detachments only to villages alike
remote and difficult of access. It was in this manner that a large force
under Xenophon himself, attacked the lofty and rugged stronghold of the
Drilć--the most warlike nation of mountaineers in the neighborhood of
the Euxine, well-armed, and troublesome to Trapezus by their incursions.
After a difficult march and attack, which Xenophon describes in
interesting detail, and wherein the Greeks encountered no small hazard
of ruinous defeat--they returned, in the end completely successful, and
with a plentiful booty.


§ 12. The Ten Thousand begin their march westward.

At length, after long awaiting in vain the reappearance of Cheirisophus,
increasing scarcity and weariness determined them to leave Trapezus. A
sufficient number of vessels had been collected to serve for the
transport of the women, of the sick and wounded, and of the baggage. All
these were accordingly placed on board under the command of Philesius
and Sophćnetus, the two oldest generals; while the remaining army
marched by land, along a road which had been just made good under the
representations of Xenophon. In three days they reached Kerasus,[82]
another maritime colony of the Sinopians, still in the territory called
Kolchian; there they halted ten days, mustered and numbered the army,
and divided the money acquired by the sale of their prisoners. Eight
thousand six hundred heavy-armed foot-soldiers, out of a total probably
greater than eleven thousand, were found still remaining; besides
targeteers[83] and various light troops.

During the halt at Kerasus, the declining discipline of the army became
manifest as they approached home. Various acts of outrage occurred,
originating now, as afterwards, in the intrigues of treacherous
officers. A captain named Klearetus persuaded his company to attempt the
plunder of a Kolchian village near Kerasus, which had furnished a
friendly market to the Greeks, and which rested secure on the faith of
peaceful relations. He intended to make off separately with the booty in
one of the vessels: but his attack was repelled, and he himself slain.
The injured villagers despatched three elders as heralds, to remonstrate
with the Grecian authorities; but these heralds, being seen in Kerasus
by some of the repulsed plunderers, were slain. A partial tumult then
ensued, in which even the magistrates of Kerasus were in great danger,
and only escaped the pursuing soldiers by running into the sea. This
enormity, though it occurred under the eyes of the generals, immediately
before their departure from Kerasus, remained without inquiry or
punishment, from the numbers concerned in it.

Between Kerasus and Kotyôra, there was not then (nor is there now) any
regular road. This march cost the Cyreian army not less than ten days,
by an inland track departing from the seashore, and through the
mountains inhabited by the native tribes Mosynoeki and Chalybes. The
latter, celebrated for their iron works, were under dependence to the
former. As the Mosynoeki refused to grant a friendly passage across
their territory, the army were compelled to fight their way through it
as enemies, with the aid of one section of these people themselves;
which alliance was procured for them by the Trapezuntine Timesitheus,
who was consul or agent of the Mosynoeki and understood their language.
The Greeks took the mountain fastnesses of this people, and plundered
the wooden turrets[84] which formed their abodes. Of their peculiar
fashions Xenophon gives an interesting description which I have not
space to copy. The territory of the Tibaręni was more easy and
accessible. This people met the Greeks with presents, and tendered a
friendly passage. But the generals at first declined the presents,
preferring to treat them as enemies and plunder them; which in fact they
would have done, had they not been deterred by unfavorable sacrifices.

Near Kotyôra, which was situated on the coast of the Tibaręni, yet on
the borders of Paphlagonia, they remained forty-five days, still
awaiting the appearance of Cheirisophus with the transports to carry
them away by sea. The Sinopian governor did not permit them to be
welcomed in so friendly a manner as at Trapezus. No market was provided
for them, nor were their sick admitted within the walls. But the
fortifications of the town were not so constructed as to resist a Greek
force, the like of which had never before been seen in those regions.
The Greek generals found a weak point, made their way in, and took
possession of a few houses for the accommodation of their sick; keeping
a guard at the gate to secure free egress, but doing no farther violence
to the citizens. They obtained their victuals partly from the Kotyôrite
villages, partly from the neighboring territory of Paphlagonia, until at
length envoys arrived from Sinôpę to remonstrate against their
proceedings.

These envoys presented themselves before the assembled soldiers in the
camp, when Hekatonymus, the chief and most eloquent among them, began by
complimenting the army upon their gallant exploits and retreat. He then
complained of the injury which Kotyôra, and Sinôpę as the mother-city of
Kotyôra, had suffered at their hands, in violation of common Hellenic
kinship. If such proceedings were continued, he intimated that Sinôpę
would be compelled in her own defence to seek alliance with the
Paphlagonian prince Korylas, or any other barbaric auxiliary who would
lend them aid against the Greeks. Xenophon replied that if the
Kotyôrites had sustained any damage, it was owing to their own ill-will
and to the Sinopian governor in the place; that the generals were under
the necessity of procuring subsistence for the soldiers, with house-room
for the sick, and that they had taken nothing more; that the sick men
were lying within the town, but at their own cost, while the other
soldiers were all encamped without; that they had maintained cordial
friendship with the Trapezuntines, and requited all their good offices;
that they sought no enemies except through necessity, being anxious only
again to reach Greece; and that as for the threat respecting Korylas,
they knew well enough that that prince was eager to become master of the
wealthy city of Sinôpę, and would speedily attempt some such enterprise
if he could obtain the Cyreian army as his auxiliaries.

This judicious reply shamed the colleagues of Hekatonymus so much, that
they went the length of protesting against what he had said, and of
affirming that they had come with propositions of sympathy and
friendship to the army, as well as with promises to give them an
hospitable reception at Sinôpę, if they should visit that town on their
way home. Presents were at once sent to the army by the inhabitants of
Kotyôra, and a good understanding established.

Such an interchange of goodwill with the powerful city of Sinôpę was an
unspeakable advantage to the army--indeed an essential condition to
their power of reaching home. If they continued their march by land, it
was only through Sinopian guidance and mediation that they could obtain
or force a passage through Paphlagonia; while for a voyage by sea, there
was no chance of procuring a sufficient number of vessels except from
Sinôpę, since no news had been received of Cheirisophus. On the other
hand, that city had also a strong interest in facilitating their transit
homeward, and thus removing formidable neighbors, for whose ulterior
purposes there could be no guarantee. After some preliminary
conversation with the Sinopian envoys, the generals convoked the army in
assembly, and entreated Hekatonymus and his companions to advise them
as to the best mode of proceeding westward to the Bosphorus.
Hekatonymus, after apologizing for the menacing insinuations of his
former speech, and protesting that he had no other object in view except
to point out the safest and easiest plan of route for the army, began to
unfold the insuperable difficulties of a march through Paphlagonia. The
very entrance into the country must be achieved through a narrow
aperture in the mountains, which it was impossible to force if occupied
by the enemy. Even assuming this difficulty to be surmounted, there were
spacious plains to be passed over, wherein the Paphlagonian horse,[85]
the most numerous and bravest in Asia, would be found almost
irresistible. There were also three or four great rivers, which the army
would be unable to pass--the Thermôdôn and the Iris, each 300 feet in
breadth--the Halys, nearly a quarter of a mile in breadth--the
Parthenius, also very considerable. Such an array of obstacles (he
affirmed) rendered the project of marching through Paphlagonia
impracticable; whereas the voyage by sea from Kotyôra to Sinôpę, and
from Sinôpę to Herakleia, was easy; and the transit from the latter
place either by sea to Byzantium, or by land across Thrace, yet easier.

Difficulties like these, apparently quite real, were more than
sufficient to determine the vote of the army, already sick of marching
and fighting, in favor of the sea voyage; though there were not wanting
suspicions of the sincerity of Hekatonymus. But Xenophon, in
communicating to the latter the decision of the army, distinctly
apprised him that they would on no account permit themselves to be
divided; that they would either depart or remain all in a body; and
that vessels must be provided sufficient for the transport of all.
Hekatonymus desired them to send envoys of their own to Sinôpę to make
the necessary arrangements. Three envoys were accordingly sent--Ariston,
an Athenian, Kallimachus, an Arcadian, and Samolas, an Achćan; the
Athenian, probably, as possessing the talent of speaking in the Sinopian
senate or assembly.

During the absence of the envoys, the army still continued near Kotyôra,
with a market provided by the town, and with traders from Sinôpę and
Herakleia in the camp. Such soldiers as had no money wherewith to
purchase, subsisted by pillaging the neighboring frontier of
Paphlagonia. But they were receiving no pay; every man was living on his
own resources; and instead of carrying back a handsome purse to Greece,
as each soldier had hoped when he first took service under Cyrus, there
seemed every prospect of their returning poorer than when they left
home. Moreover, the army was now moving onward without any definite
purpose, with increasing dissatisfaction and decreasing discipline;
insomuch that Xenophon foresaw the difficulties which would beset the
responsible commanders when they should come within the stricter
restraints and obligations of the Grecian world.


§ 13. Plans of Xenophon for founding a city on the Black Sea.

It was these considerations which helped to suggest to him the idea of
employing the army on some enterprise of conquest and colonization on
the Euxine itself; an idea highly flattering to his personal ambition,
especially as the army was of unrivalled efficiency against an enemy,
and no such second force could ever be got together in those distant
regions. His patriotism as a Greek was inflamed with the thoughts of
procuring for Hellas[86] a new self-governing city, occupied by a
considerable Hellenic population, possessing a spacious territory, and
exercising dominion over many neighboring natives. He seems to have
thought first of attacking and conquering some established non-Hellenic
city; an act which his ideas of international morality did not forbid,
in a case where he had contracted no special convention with the
inhabitants--though he (as well as Cheirisophus) strenuously protested
against doing wrong to any innocent Hellenic community. He contemplated
the employment of the entire force in capturing Phasis or some other
native city; after which, when the establishment was once safely
effected, those soldiers who preferred going home to remaining as
settlers, might do so without emperiling those who stayed, and probably
with their own purses filled by plunder and conquest in the
neighborhood. To settle as one of the richest proprietors and
chiefs,--perhaps even the recognized founder, like Agnon at
Amphipolis,--of a new Hellenic city such as could hardly fail to become
rich, powerful, and important--was a tempting prospect for one who had
now acquired the habits of command. Moreover, the sequel will prove how
correctly Xenophon appreciated the discomfort of leading the army back
to Greece without pay and without certain employment.

It was the practice of Xenophon, and the advice of his master,
Sokratęs,[87] in grave and doubtful cases where the most careful
reflection was at fault, to recur to the inspired authority of an oracle
or a prophet, and to offer sacrifice, in full confidence that the gods
would vouchsafe to communicate a special revelation to such persons as
they favored. Accordingly Xenophon, previous to any communication with
the soldiers respecting his new project, was anxious to ascertain the
will of the gods by a special sacrifice; for which he invoked the
presence of Silanus, the chief prophet in the army. This prophet (as I
have already mentioned), before the battle of Kunaxa, had assured Cyrus
that Artaxerxęs would not fight for ten days--and the prophecy came to
pass; which made such an impression on Cyrus, that he rewarded him with
the prodigious present of 3000 darics or ten Attic talents. While others
were returning poor, Silanus, having contrived to preserve this sum
through all the hardships of the retreat, was extremely rich, and
anxious only to hasten home with his treasure in safety. He heard with
strong repugnance the project of remaining on the Euxine, and determined
to traverse[88] it by intrigue. As far as concerned the sacrifices,
indeed, which he offered apart with Xenophon he was obliged to admit
that the indications of the victims were favorable; Xenophon himself
being too familiar with the process to be imposed upon. But he at the
same time tried to create alarm by declaring that a nice inspection
disclosed evidence of treacherous snares laid for Xenophon; which latter
indications he himself began to realize by spreading reports among the
army that the Athenian general was laying clandestine plans for keeping
them away from Greece without their own concurrence.[89]

Thus prematurely and insidiously divulged, the scheme found some
supporters, but a far larger number of opponents; especially among those
officers who were jealous of the ascendency of Xenophon. Timasion and
Thorax employed it as a means of alarming the Herakleotic and Sinopian
traders in the camp; telling them that unless they provided not merely
transports, but also pay for the soldiers, Xenophon would find means to
detain the army in the Euxine, and would employ the transports when they
arrived not for the homeward voyage, but for his own projects of
acquisition. This news spread so much terror both at Sinôpę and
Herakleia that large offers of money were made from both cities to
Timasion, on condition that he would ensure the departure of the army,
as soon as the vessels should be assembled at Kotyôra. Accordingly these
officers, convening an assembly of the soldiers, protested against the
duplicity of Xenophon in thus preparing momentous schemes without any
public debate or decision. And Timasion, seconded by Thorax, not only
strenuously urged the army to return, but went so far as to promise to
them, on the faith of the assurances from Herakleia and Sinôpę, future
pay on a liberal scale, to commence from the first new moon after their
departure; together with a hospitable reception in his native city of
Dardanus on the Hellespont, from whence they could make incursions on
the rich neighboring satrapy of Pharnabazus.

It was not, however, until these attacks were repeated from more than
one quarter--until the Achćans Philesius and Lykon had loudly accused
Xenophon of underhand manoeuvring to cheat the army into remaining
against their will--that the latter rose to repel the imputation; saying
that all he had done was, to consult the gods whether it would be better
to lay his project before the army or keep it in his own bosom. The
encouraging answer of the gods, as conveyed through the victims and
testified even by Silanus himself, proved that the scheme was not
ill-conceived; nevertheless (he remarked) Silanus had begun to lay
snares for him, obtaining by his own proceedings a collateral indication
which he had announced to be visible in the victims. "If (added
Xenophon) you had continued as destitute and unprovided, as you were
just now--I should still have looked out for a resource in the capture
of some city which would have enabled such of you as chose, to return at
once; while the rest stay behind to enrich themselves. But now there is
no longer any necessity; since Herakleia and Sinôpę are sending
transports, and Timasion promises pay to you from the next new moon.
Nothing can be better; you will go back safely to Greece, and will
receive pay for going thither. I desist at once from my scheme, and call
upon all who were favorable to it to desist also. Only let us all keep
together until we are on safe ground; and let the man who lags behind
or runs off, be condemned as a wrongdoer."

Xenophon immediately put this question to the vote, and every hand was
held up in its favor. There was no man more disconcerted with the vote
than the prophet Silanus, who loudly exclaimed against the injustice of
detaining any one desirous to depart. But the soldiers put him down with
vehement disapprobation, threatening that they would assuredly punish
him if they caught him running off. His intrigue against Xenophon thus
recoiled upon himself, for the moment. But shortly afterwards, when the
army reached Herakleia, he took his opportunity for clandestine flight,
and found his way back to Greece with the 3000 darics.

If Silanus gained little by his manoeuvre, Timasion and his partners
gained still less. For so soon as it became known that the army had
taken a formal resolution to go back to Greece, and that Xenophon
himself had made the proposition, the Sinopians and the Herakleots felt
at their ease. They sent the transport vessels, but withheld the money
which they had promised to Timasion and Thorax. Hence these officers
were exposed to dishonor and peril; for having positively engaged to
find pay for the army, they were now unable to keep their word. So keen
were their apprehensions, that they came to Xenophon and told him that
they had altered their views, and that they now thought it best to
employ the newly-arrived transports in conveying the army, not to
Greece, but against the town and territory of Phasis[90] at the eastern
extremity of the Euxine. Xenophon replied, that they might convene the
soldiers and make the proposition, if they chose; but that he would have
nothing to say to it. To make the very proposition themselves, for which
they had so much inveighed against Xenophon, was impossible without some
preparation; so that each of them began individually to sound his
captains, and get the scheme suggested by them. During this interval,
the soldiery obtained information of the manoeuvre, much to their
discontent and indignation; of which Neon (the lieutenant of the absent
Cheirisophus) took advantage, to throw the whole blame upon Xenophon;
alleging that it was he who had converted the other officers to his
original project, and that he intended, as soon as the soldiers were on
shipboard, to convey them fraudulently to Phasis instead of to Greece.
There was something so plausible in this glaring falsehood, which
represented Xenophon as the author of the renewed project, once his
own--and something so improbable in the fact that the other officers
should spontaneously have renounced their own strong opinions to take up
his--that we can hardly be surprised at the ready credence which Neon's
calumny found among the army. Their exasperation against Xenophon became
so intense, that they collected in fierce groups; and there was even a
fear that they would break out into mutinous violence, as they had
before done against the magistrates of Kerasus.

Well knowing the danger of such spontaneous and informal assemblages,
and the importance of the habitual solemnities of convocation and
arrangement, to ensure either discussion or legitimate defence--Xenophon
immediately sent round the herald to summon the army into the regular
place of assembly with customary method and ceremony. The summons was
obeyed with unusual alacrity, and Xenophon then addressed
them--refraining, with equal generosity and prudence, from saying
anything about the last proposition which Timasion and others had made
to him. Had he mentioned it, the question would have become one of life
and death between him and those other officers.


§ 14. Xenophon defends himself against false accusations.

"Soldiers (said he), I understand that there are some men here
calumniating me, as if I were intending to cheat you and carry you to
Phasis. Hear me then, in the name of the gods. If I am shown to be doing
wrong, let me not go from hence unpunished; but if, on the contrary, my
calumniators are proved to be the wrong-doers, deal with them as they
deserve. You surely well know where the sun rises and where he sets; you
know that if a man wishes to reach Greece, he must go westward--if to
the barbaric territories, he must go eastward. Can any one hope to
deceive you on this point, and persuade you that the sun rises on _this_
side, and sets on _that_? Can any one cheat you into going on shipboard
with a wind which blows you away from Greece? Suppose even that I put
you aboard when there is no wind at all. How am I to force you to sail
with me against your own consent--I being only in one ship, you in a
hundred and more? Imagine however that I could even succeed in deluding
you to Phasis. When we land there, you will know at once that we are not
in Greece; and what fate can I then expect--a detected impostor in the
midst of ten thousand men with arms in their hands? No--these stories
all proceed from foolish men, who are jealous of my influence with you;
jealous, too, without reason--for I neither hinder _them_ from
out-stripping me in your favor, if they can render you greater
service--nor _you_ from electing them commanders, if you think fit.
Enough of this now: I challenge any one to come forward and say how it
is possible either to cheat, or to be cheated, in the manner laid to my
charge."

Having thus grappled directly with the calumnies of his enemies, and
dissipated them in such manner as doubtless to create a reaction in his
own favor, Xenophon made use of the opportunity to denounce the growing
disorders in the army; which he depicted as such, that if no corrective
were applied, disgrace and contempt must fall upon all. As he paused
after this general remonstrance, the soldiers loudly called upon him to
go into particulars; upon which he proceeded to recall, with lucid and
impressive simplicity, the outrages which had been committed at and near
Kerasus--the unauthorized and unprovoked attack made by Klearetus and
his company on a neighboring village which was in friendly commerce with
the army--the murder of the three elders of the village, who had come as
heralds to complain to the generals about such wrong--the mutinous
attack made by disorderly soldiers even upon the magistrates of Kerasus,
at the very moment when they were remonstrating with the generals on
what had occurred; exposing these magistrates to the utmost peril, and
putting the generals themselves to ignominy. "If such are to be our
proceedings (continued Xenophon), look you well into what condition the
army will fall. You, the aggregate body, will no longer be the sovereign
authority to make war or peace with whom you please; each individual
among you will conduct the army against any point which he may choose.
And even if men should come to you as envoys, either for peace or for
other purposes, they may be slain by any single enemy; so that you will
be debarred from all public communications whatever. Next, those whom
your universal suffrage shall have chosen commanders, will have no
authority; while any self-elected general who chooses to give the word,
Cast, Cast (_i.e._ darts or stones), may put to death without trial
either officer or soldier as it suits him; that is, if he finds you
ready to obey him, as it happened near Kerasus. Look now what these
self-elected leaders have done for you. The magistrate of Kerasus, if he
was really guilty of wrong towards you, has been enabled to escape with
impunity; if he was innocent, he has been obliged to run away from you,
as the only means of avoiding death without pretence of trial. Those who
stoned the heralds to death have brought matters to such a pass, that
you alone, of all Greeks, cannot enter the town of Kerasus in safety,
unless in commanding force; and that we cannot even send in a herald to
take up our dead (Klearetus and those who were slain in the attack on
the Kerasuntine village) for burial; though at first those who had slain
them in self-defence were anxious to give up the bodies to us. For who
will take the risk of going in as herald, from those who have set the
example of putting heralds to death? We generals were obliged to entreat
the Kerasuntines to bury the bodies for us."

Continuing in this emphatic protest against the recent disorders and
outrages, Xenophon at length succeeded in impressing his own sentiment,
heartily and unanimously, upon the soldiers. They passed a vote that the
ringleaders of the mutiny at Kerasus should be punished; that if any one
was guilty of similar outrages in future, he should be put upon his
trial by the generals, before the captains as judges, and if condemned
by them, put to death; and that trial should be had before the same
persons, for any other wrong committed since the death of Cyrus. A
suitable religious ceremony was also directed to be performed, at the
instance of Xenophon and the prophets, to purify the army.

This speech affords an interesting specimen of the political morality
universal throughout the Grecian world, though deeper and more
predominant among its better sections. In the miscellaneous aggregate,
and temporary society, now mustered at Kotyôra, Xenophon insists on the
universal suffrage of the whole body, as the legitimate sovereign
authority for the guidance of every individual will; the decision of the
majority, fairly and formally collected, as carrying a title to prevail
over every dissentient minority; the generals chosen by the majority of
votes, as the only persons entitled to obedience. This is the cardinal
principle to which he appeals, as the anchorage of political obligation
in the mind of each separate man or fraction; as the condition of all
success, all safety, and all conjoint action; as the only condition
either for punishing wrong or protecting right; as indispensable to keep
up their sympathies with the Hellenic communities, and their dignity
either as soldiers or as citizens. The complete success of his speech
proves that he knew how to touch the right chord of Grecian feeling. No
serious acts of individual insubordination occurred afterwards, though
the army collectively went wrong on more than one occasion. And what is
not less important to notice--the influence of Xenophon himself, after
his unreserved and courageous remonstrance, seems to have been sensibly
augmented--certainly noway diminished.

The circumstances which immediately followed were indeed well
calculated to augment it. For it was resolved, on the proposition of
Xenophon himself, that the generals themselves should be tried before
the newly-constituted tribunal of the captains, in case anyone had
complaint to make against them for past matters; agreeably to the
Athenian habit of subjecting every magistrate to a trial of
accountability on laying down his office. In the course of this
investigation, Philesius and Xanthiklęs were fined twenty minć,[91] to
make good an assignable deficiency of that amount, in the cargoes of
those merchantmen which had been detained at Trapezus for the transport
of the army: Sophćnetus, who had the general superintendence of this
property, but had been negligent in that duty, was fined ten minć. Next,
the name of Xenophon was put up, when various persons stood forward to
accuse him of having beaten and ill-used them. As commander of the
rear-guard, his duty was by far the severest and most difficult,
especially during the intense cold and deep snow; since the sick and
wounded, as well as the laggards and plunderers, all fell under his
inspection. One man especially was loud in complaints against him, and
Xenophon questioned him, as to the details of his case, before the
assembled army. It turned out that he had given him blows, because the
man, having been entrusted with the task of carrying a sick soldier, was
about to evade the duty by burying the dying man alive. This interesting
debate ended by a full approbation on the part of the army of Xenophon's
conduct, accompanied with regret that he had not handled the man yet
more severely.

The statements of Xenophon himself give us a vivid idea of the internal
discipline of the army, even as managed by a discreet and well-tempered
officer. "I acknowledge (said he to the soldiers) to have struck many
men for disorderly conduct; men who were content to owe their
preservation to your orderly march and constant fighting, while they
themselves ran about to plunder and enrich themselves at your cost. Had
we all acted as they did, we should have perished to a man. Sometimes
too I struck men who were lagging behind with cold and fatigue, or were
stopping the way so as to hinder others from getting forward: I struck
them with my fist, in order to save them from the spear of the enemy.
You yourselves stood by and saw me: you had arms in your hands, yet none
of you interfered to prevent me. I did it for their good as well as for
yours, not from any insolence of disposition; for it was a time when we
were all alike suffering from cold, hunger, and fatigue; whereas I now
live comparatively well, drink more wine and pass easy days--and yet I
strike no one. You will find that the men who failed most in those times
of hardship, are now the most outrageous offenders in the army. There is
Boďskus, the Thessalian pugilist, who pretended sickness during the
march, in order to evade the burden of carrying his shield--and now, as
I am informed, he has stripped several citizens of Kotyôra of their
clothes. If (he concluded) the blows which I have occasionally given, in
cases of necessity, are now brought in evidence--I call upon those among
you also, to whom I have rendered aid and protection, to stand up and
testify in my favor."

Many individuals responded to this appeal, insomuch that Xenophon was
not merely acquitted, but stood higher than before in the opinion of the
army. We learn from his defence that for a commanding officer to strike
a soldier with his fist, if wanting in duty, was not considered
improper; at least under such circumstances as those of the retreat. But
what deserves notice still more, is, the extraordinary influence which
Xenophon's powers of speaking gave him over the minds of the army. He
stood distinguished from the other generals, Lacedćmonian, Arcadian,
Achćan, and the rest, by his power of working on the minds of the
soldiers collectively; and we see that he had the good sense, as well as
the spirit, not to shrink from telling them unpleasant truths. In spite
of such frankness--or rather, partly by means of such frankness--his
ascendency as commander not only remained unabated, as compared with
that of the others, but went on increasing. For whatever may be said
about the flattery of orators as a means of influence over the
people,--it will be found that though particular points may be gained in
this way, yet wherever the influence of an orator has been steady and
long-continued (like that of Periklęs or Demosthenęs) it is owing in
part to the fact that he has an opinion of his own, and is not willing
to accommodate himself constantly to the prepossessions of his hearers.
Without the oratory of Xenophon, there would have existed no engine for
kindling or sustaining the common sense or feeling of the ten thousand
Cyreians assembled at Kotyôra, or for keeping up the moral authority of
the aggregate over the individual members and fractions. The other
officers could doubtless speak well enough to address short
encouragements, or give simple explanations, to the soldiers: without
this faculty, no man was fit for military command over Greeks. But the
oratory of Xenophon was something of a higher order. Whoever will study
the discourse pronounced by him at Kotyôra will perceive a dexterity in
dealing with assembled multitudes--a discriminating use sometimes of the
plainest and most direct appeal, sometimes of indirect insinuation or
circuitous transitions to work round the minds of the hearers--a command
of those fundamental political convictions which lay deep in the Grecian
mind, but were often so overlaid by the fresh impulses arising out of
each successive situation, as to require some positive friction to draw
them out from their latent state--lastly, a power of expansion and
varied repetition--such as would be naturally imparted both by the
education and the practice of an intelligent Athenian, but would rarely
be found in any other Grecian city. The energy and judgment displayed by
Xenophon in the retreat were doubtless not less essential to his
influence than his power of speaking; but in these points we may be sure
that other officers were more nearly his equals.

The important public proceedings above described not only restored the
influence of Xenophon, but also cleared off a great amount of bad
feeling, and sensibly abated the bad habits, which had grown up in the
army. A scene which speedily followed was not without effect in
promoting cheerful and amicable sympathies. The Paphlagonian prince
Korylas, weary of the desultory warfare carried on between the Greeks
and the border inhabitants, sent envoys to the Greek camp with presents
of horses and fine robes, and with expressions of a wish to conclude
peace. The Greek generals accepted the presents, and promised to submit
the proposition to the army. But first, they entertained the envoys at a
banquet, providing at the same time games and dances, with other
recreations amusing not only to them but also to the soldiers generally.
[Xenophon thus describes them--"As soon as the libations were over, and
they had sung the pćan, two Thracians rose up and danced in full armor,
to the sound of a pipe;[92] they leaped very high, and with great
agility, and wielded their swords; and at last one struck the other, in
such a manner that every one thought he had killed him. He fell,
however, artfully, and the Paphlagonians cried out; the other having
stripped him of his arms, went out singing; while other Thracians
carried off the man as if he had been dead; though indeed he had
suffered no hurt. Afterward some others stood up and danced what they
called the Carpćan dance[93] in heavy arms. The nature of the dance was
as follows: one man having laid aside his arms, sows, and drives a yoke
of oxen, frequently turning to look back as if he were afraid. A robber
then approaches, and the plowman when he perceives him, snatches up his
arms and runs to meet him, and fights with him in defence of his oxen
(and the dancers acted all this, keeping time to the music); but at last
the robber binding the ox driver, leads him off with his oxen.
Sometimes, however, the plowman binds the robber, and then having
fastened him to his oxen, drives him off with his hands tied behind him.

"Next came forward a man with a light shield in each hand, and danced,
sometimes acting as if two adversaries were attacking him; sometimes he
used his shields as if engaged with only one; sometimes he whirled
about, and threw a somersault, still keeping the shields in his hands,
presenting an interesting spectacle. At last he danced the Persian
dance (frequently bending the knee), clashing his shields together,
sinking on his knees, and rising again; and all this he performed in
time to the pipe.

"After him some of the Arcadians coming forward and taking their stand,
armed as handsomely as they could equip themselves, moved along in time,
accompanied by a pipe tuned for the war-movement, and sung the pćan, and
danced in the same manner as in the procession to the gods. The
Paphlagonians, looking on, testified their astonishment that all the
dances were performed in armor. The Mysian,[94] observing that they were
surprised at the exhibition, and prevailing on one of the Arcadians, who
had a female dancer, to let her come in, brought her forward, equipping
her as handsomely as he could, and giving her a light shield. She danced
the Pyrrhic[95] dance with great agility, and a general clapping of
hands followed; and the Paphlagonians asked whether the women fought
along with the men; when they replied that it was the women who had
driven the King from his camp.[96] This was the conclusion of the
entertainment for that night."[97]] They were followed on the next day
by an amicable convention concluded between the army and the
Paphlagonians.


§ 15. The army passes by sea to Sinôpę.

Not long afterwards--a number of transports, sufficient for the whole
army, having been assembled from Herakleia and Sinôpę--all the soldiers
were conveyed by sea to the latter place, passing by the mouth of the
rivers Thermôdôn, Iris, and Halys, which they would have found
impracticable to cross in a land-march through Paphlagonia. Having
reached Sinôpę after a day and a night of sailing with a fair wind, they
were hospitably received, and lodged in the neighboring seaport of
Armęnę, where the Sinopians sent to them a large present of barley-meal
and wine, and where they remained for five days.

It was here that they were joined by Cheirisophus, whose absence had
been so unexpectedly prolonged. But he came with only a single
trireme,[98] bringing nothing except a message from Anaxibius, the
Lacedćmonian general in the Bosphorus; who complimented the army, and
promised that they should be taken into pay as soon as they were out of
the Euxine. The soldiers, severely disappointed on seeing him arrive
thus empty-handed, became the more strongly bent on striking some blow
to fill their own purses before they reached Greece. Feeling that it was
necessary to the success of any such project that it should be prepared
not only skilfully, but secretly, they resolved to elect a single
general in place of that board of six (or perhaps more) who were still
in function. Such was now the ascendency of Xenophon, that the general
sentiment of the army at once turned towards him; and the captains,
communicating to him what was in contemplation, intimated to him their
own anxious hopes that he would not decline the offer. Tempted by so
flattering a proposition, he hesitated at first what answer he should
give. But at length the uncertainty of being able to satisfy the
exigencies of the army, and the fear of thus compromising the
reputation which he had already realized, outweighed the opposite
inducements. As in other cases of doubt, so in this--he offered
sacrifice to Zeus the King; and the answer returned by the victims was
such as to determine him to refusal. Accordingly, when the army
assembled, with predetermination to choose a single chief, and proceeded
to nominate him--he respectfully and thankfully declined, on the ground
that Cheirisophus was a Lacedćmonian, and that he himself was not;
adding that he should cheerfully serve under any one whom they might
name. His excuse however was repudiated; especially by the captains.
Several of these latter were Arcadians; and one of them, Agasias, cried
out, with full sympathy of the soldiers, that, if that principle were
admitted, he as an Arcadian ought to resign his command. Finding that
his former reason was not approved, Xenophon acquainted the army that he
had sacrificed to know whether he ought to accept the command, and that
the gods had peremptorily forbidden him to do so.

Cheirisophus was then elected sole commander, and undertook the duty;
saying that he would have willingly served under Xenophon, if the latter
had accepted the office, but that it was a good thing for Xenophon
himself to have declined--since Dexippus had already poisoned the mind
of Anaxibius against him, though he (Cheirisophus) had emphatically
contradicted the calumnies.

On the next day, the army sailed forward under the command of
Cheirisophus, to Herakleia; near which town they were hospitably
entertained, and gratified with a present of meal, wine, and bullocks,
even greater than they had received at Sinôpę. It now appeared that
Xenophon had acted wisely in declining the sole command; and also that
Cheirisophus, though elected commander, yet having been very long
absent, was not really of so much importance in the eyes of the soldiers
as Xenophon. In the camp near Herakleia, the soldiers became impatient
that their generals (for the habit of looking upon Xenophon as one of
them still continued) took no measures to procure money for them. The
Achćan Lykon proposed that they should extort a contribution of no less
than 3000 staters[99] of Kyzikus from the inhabitants of Herakleia:
another man immediately outbid this proposition, and proposed that they
should require 10,000 staters[99]--a full month's pay for the army. It
was moved that Cheirisophus and Xenophon should go to the Herakleots as
envoys with this demand. But both of them indignantly refused to be
concerned in so unjust an extortion, from a Grecian city which had just
received the army kindly and sent handsome presents. Accordingly Lykon
with two Arcadian officers undertook the mission, and intimated the
demand, not without threats in case of non-compliance, to the
Herakleots. The latter replied that they would take it into
consideration. But they waited only for the departure of the envoys, and
then immediately closed their gates, manned their walls, and brought in
their outlying property.

The project being thus baffled, Lykon and the rest turned their
displeasure upon Cheirisophus and Xenophon, whom they accused of having
occasioned its miscarriage. And they now began to exclaim that it was
disgraceful to the Arcadians and Achćans, who formed more than one
numerical half of the army and endured all the toil--to obey as well as
to enrich generals from other Hellenic cities; especially a single
Athenian who furnished no contingent to the army. Here again it is
remarkable that the personal importance of Xenophon caused him to be
still regarded as a general, though the sole command had been vested by
formal vote in Cheirisophus. So vehement was the dissatisfaction, that
all the Arcadian and Achćan soldiers in the army, more than 4500
heavy-armed foot-soldiers in number, renounced the authority of
Cheirisophus, formed themselves into a distinct division, and chose ten
commanders from out of their own numbers. The whole army thus became
divided, into three portions--first the Arcadians and Achćans: secondly,
1400 heavy-armed foot-soldiers and 700 Thracian light-armed
foot-soldiers, who adhered to Cheirisophus: lastly, 1700 heavy-armed
foot-soldiers, 300 light-armed foot-soldiers, and 40 horsemen (all the
horsemen in the army), attaching themselves to Xenophon; who however was
taking measures to sail away individually from Herakleia and quit the
army altogether, which he would have done had he not been restrained by
unfavorable sacrifices.

The Arcadian division, departing first, in vessels from Herakleia,
landed at Kalpę; an untenanted promontory of the Bithynian or Asiatic
Thrace, midway between Herakleia and Byzantium. From thence they marched
at once into the interior of Bithynia, with the view of surprising the
villages and acquiring plunder. But through rashness and bad management,
they first sustained several partial losses, and ultimately became
surrounded upon an eminence, by a large muster of the native Bithynians
from all the territory around. They were only rescued from destruction
by the unexpected appearance of Xenophon with his division; who had left
Herakleia somewhat later, but heard by accident, during their march, of
the danger of their comrades. The whole army thus became re-assembled at
Kalpę, where the Arcadians and Achćans, disgusted at the ill-success of
their separate expedition, again established the old union and the old
generals. They chose Neon in place of Cheirisophus, who--afflicted by
the humiliation put upon him, in having been first named sole commander
and next deposed within a week--had fallen sick of a fever and died. The
elder Arcadian captains farther moved a resolution, that if any one
henceforward should propose to separate the army into fractions, he
should be put to death.

The locality of Kalpę was well-suited for the foundation of a colony,
which Xenophon evidently would have been glad to bring about, though he
took no direct measures tending towards it; while the soldiers were so
bent on returning to Greece, and so jealous lest Xenophon should entrap
them into remaining, that they almost shunned the encampment. It so
happened that they were detained there for some days without being able
to march forth even in quest of provisions, because the sacrifices were
not favorable. Xenophon refused to lead them out, against the warning of
the sacrifices--although the army suspected him of a deliberate
manoeuvre for the purpose of detention. Neon however, less scrupulous,
led out a body of 2000 men who chose to follow him, under severe
distress for want of provisions. But being surprised by the native
Bithynians, with the aid of some troops of the Persian satrap
Pharnabazus, he was defeated with the loss of no less than 500 men; a
misfortune which Xenophon regards as the natural retribution for
contempt of the sacrificial warning. The dangerous position of Neon with
the remainder of the detachment was rapidly made known at the camp: upon
which Xenophon, unharnessing a wagon-bullock as the only animal near at
hand, immediately offered sacrifice. On this occasion the victim was at
once favorable; so that he led out without delay the greater part of the
force, to the rescue of the exposed detachment, which was brought back
in safety to the camp. So bold had the enemy become, that in the night
the camp was attacked. The Greeks were obliged on the next day to
retreat into stronger ground, surrounding themselves with a ditch and a
palisade. Fortunately a vessel arrived from Herakleia, bringing to the
camp at Kalpę a supply of barley-meal, cattle, and wine; which restored
the spirits of the army, enabling them to go forth on the ensuing
morning and assume the aggressive against the Bithynians, and the troops
of Pharnabazus. These troops were completely defeated and dispersed, so
that the Greeks returned to their camp at Kalpę in the evening both safe
and masters of the country.

At Kalpę they remained some time awaiting the arrival of Kleander from
Byzantium, who was said to be about to bring vessels for their
transport. They were now abundantly provided with supplies, not merely
from the undisturbed plunder of the neighboring villages, but also from
the visits of traders who came with cargoes. Indeed the impression--that
they were preparing, at the instance of Xenophon, to found a new city at
Kalpę--became so strong that several of the neighboring native villages
sent envoys to ask on what terms alliance would be granted to them. At
length Kleander came, but with two triremes only.

Kleander was the Lacedćmonian governor of Byzantium. His appearance
opens to us a new phase in the eventful history of this gallant army, as
well as an insight into the state of the Grecian world under the
Lacedćmonian empire. He came attended by the Lacedćmonian Dexippus, who
had served in the Cyreian army until their arrival at Trapezus, and who
had there been entrusted with an armed vessel for the purpose of
detaining transports to convey the troops home but had abused the
confidence reposed in him, by running away with the ship to Byzantium.

It so happened that at the moment when Kleander arrived, the whole army
was out on a marauding excursion. Orders had already been promulgated,
that whatever was captured by every one when the whole army was out,
should be brought in and dealt with as public property; though on days
when the army was collectively at rest, any soldier might go out
individually and take to himself whatever he could pillage. On the day
when Kleander arrived, and found the whole army out, some soldiers were
just coming back with a lot of sheep which they had seized. By right,
the sheep ought to have been handed into the public store. But these
soldiers, desirous to appropriate them wrongfully, addressed themselves
to Dexippus, and promised him a portion if he would enable them to
retain the rest. Accordingly the latter interfered, drove away those who
claimed the sheep as public property, and denounced them as thieves to
Kleander; who desired him to bring them before him. Dexippus arrested
one of them, a soldier belonging to the company of one of the best
friends of Xenophon--the Arcadian Agasias. The latter took the man under
his protection; while the soldiers around incensed not less at the past
than at the present conduct of Dexippus, broke out into violent
manifestations, called him a traitor, and pelted him with stones. Such
was their wrath, that not Dexippus alone, but the crew of the triremes
also, and even Kleander himself fled, in alarm; in spite of the
intervention of Xenophon, and the other generals, who on the one hand
explained to Kleander, that it was an established army-order which these
soldiers were seeking to enforce--and on the other hand controlled the
mutineers. But the Lacedćmonian governor was so incensed as well by his
own fright as by the calumnies of Dexippus, that he threatened to sail
away at once, and proclaim the Cyreian army enemies to Sparta, so that
every Hellenic city should be interdicted from giving them reception. It
was in vain that the generals, well knowing the formidable consequences
of such an interdict, entreated him to relent. He would consent only on
condition that the soldiers who had begun to throw stones as well as
Agasias the interfering officer, should be delivered up to him. This
latter demand was especially insisted upon by Dexippus, who hating
Xenophon, had already tried to prejudice Anaxibius against him, and
believed that Agasias had acted by his order.

The situation now became extremely critical; since the soldiers would
not easily be brought to surrender their comrades--who had a perfectly
righteous cause, though they had supported it by undue violence--to the
vengeance of a traitor like Dexippus. When the army was convened in
assembly, several of them went so far as to treat the menace of Kleander
with contempt. But Xenophon took pains to set them right upon this
point. "Soldiers (said he) it will be no slight misfortune if Kleander
shall depart as he threatens to do, in his present temper toward us. We
are here close upon the cities of Greece: now the Lacedćmonians are the
imperial power in Greece, and not merely their authorized officers, but
even each one of their individual citizens, can accomplish what he
pleases in the various cities. If then Kleander begins by shutting us
out from Byzantium, and next enjoins the Lacedćmonian governors in the
other cities[100] to do the same, proclaiming us lawless and disobedient
to Sparta--if, besides, the same representation should be conveyed to
the Lacedćmonian admiral of the fleet, Anaxibius--we shall be hard
pressed either to remain or to sail away; for the Lacedćmonians are at
present masters both on land and at sea. We must not, for the sake of
any one or two men, suffer the whole army to be excluded from Greece. We
must obey whatever the Lacedćmonians command, especially as our cities,
to which we respectively belong, now obey them. As to what concerns
myself, I understand that Dexippus has told Kleander that Agasias would
never have taken such a step except by my orders. Now, if Agasias
himself states this, I am ready to exonerate both him and all of you,
and to give myself up to any extremity of punishment. I maintain too
that any other man whom Kleander arraigns ought in like manner to give
himself up for trial, in order that you collectively may be discharged
from the imputation. It will be hard indeed, if just as we are reaching
Greece, we should not only be debarred from the praise and honor which
we anticipated, but should be degraded even below the level of others,
and shut out from the Grecian cities."

After this speech from the philo-Laconian[101] Xenophon--so significant
a testimony of the unmeasured ascendency and interference of the
Lacedćmonians throughout Greece--Agasias rose, and proclaimed, that what
he had done was neither under the orders, nor with the privity, of
Xenophon; that he had acted on a personal impulse of wrath, at seeing
his own honest and innocent soldier dragged away by the traitor
Dexippus; but that he now willingly gave himself up as a victim, to
avert from the army the displeasure of the Lacedćmonians. This generous
self-sacrifice, which at the moment promised nothing less than a fatal
result to Agasias, was accepted by the army: and the generals conducted
both him and the soldier whom he had rescued, as prisoners to Kleander.
Presenting himself as the responsible party, Agasias at the same time
explained to Kleander the infamous behavior of Dexippus to the army, and
said that towards no one else would he have acted in the same manner;
while the soldier whom he had rescued, and who was given up at the same
time, also affirmed that he had interfered merely to prevent Dexippus
and some others from overruling, for their own individual benefit, a
proclaimed order of the entire army. Kleander, having observed that if
Dexippus had done what was affirmed, he would be the last to defend him,
but that no one ought to have been stoned without trial--desired that
the persons surrendered might be left for his consideration, and at the
same time retracted his expressions of displeasure as regarded all the
others.

The generals then retired, leaving Kleander in possession of the
prisoners, and on the point of taking his dinner. But they retired with
mournful feelings, and Xenophon presently convened the army to propose
that a general deputation should be sent to Kleander to implore his
lenity towards their two comrades. This being cordially adopted,
Xenophon, at the head of a deputation comprising Drakontius the Spartan
as well as the chief officers, addressed an earnest appeal to Kleander,
representing that his honor had been satisfied with the unconditional
surrender of the two persons required; that the army, deeply concerned
for two meritorious comrades, entreated him now to show mercy and spare
their lives; that they promised him in return the most explicit
obedience, and entreated him to take the command of them, in order that
he might have personal cognizance of their exact discipline, and compare
their worth with that of Dexippus. Kleander was not merely soothed, but
completely won over, by this address; and said in reply that the conduct
of the generals belied altogether the representations made to him
(doubtless by Dexippus), that they were seeking to alienate the army
from the Lacedćmonians. He not only restored the two men in his power,
but also accepted the command of the army, and promised to conduct them
back into Greece.

The prospects of the army appeared thus greatly improved; the more so,
as Kleander, on entering upon his new functions as commander, found the
soldiers so cheerful and orderly, that he was highly gratified, and
exchanged personal tokens of friendship and hospitality with Xenophon.
But when sacrifices came to be offered, for beginning the march
homeward, the signs were so unpropitious, for three successive days,
that Kleander could not bring himself to brave such auguries at the
outset of his career. Accordingly, he told the generals, that the gods
plainly forbade him, and reserved it for them, to conduct the army into
Greece; that he should therefore sail back to Byzantium, and would
receive the army in the best way he could, when they reached the
Bosphorus. After an interchange of presents with the soldiers, he then
departed with his two triremes.

The favorable sentiment now established in the bosom of Kleander will be
found very serviceable hereafter to the Cyreians at Byzantium; but they
had cause for deeply regretting the unpropitious sacrifices which had
deterred him from assuming the actual command at Kalpę. In the request
preferred to him by them that he would march as their commander to the
Bosphorus, we may recognize a scheme, and a very well-contrived scheme,
of Xenophon; who had before desired to leave the army at Herakleia, and
who saw plainly that the difficulties of a commander, unless he were a
Lacedćmonian of station and influence, would increase with every step of
their approach to Greece. Had Kleander accepted the command, the
soldiers would have been better treated, while Xenophon himself might
either have remained as his adviser, or might have gone home. He would
probably have chosen the latter course.


§ 16. The army crosses the Bosphorus to Byzantium; false promises of
Anaxibius and their results.

Under the command of their own officers, the Cyreians now marched from
Kalpę across Bithynia to Chrysopolis (in the territory of Chalkędon on
the Asiatic edge of the Bosphorus, immediately opposite to
Byzantium,[102] as Scutari now is to Constantinople), where they
remained seven days, turning into money the slaves and plunder which
they had collected. Unhappily for them, the Lacedćmonian admiral
Anaxibius was now at Byzantium, so that their friend Kleander was under
his superior command. And Pharnabazus, the Persian satrap of the
northwestern regions of Asia Minor, becoming much alarmed lest they
should invade his satrapy, despatched a private message to Anaxibius;
whom he prevailed upon, by promise of large presents, to transport the
army forthwith across to the European side of the Bosphorus.
Accordingly, Anaxibius, sending for the generals and the captains across
to Byzantium, invited the army to cross, and gave them his assurance
that as soon as the soldiers should be in Europe, he would provide pay
for them. The other officers told him that they would return with this
message and take the sense of the army; but Xenophon on his own account
said that he should not return; that he should now retire from the army,
and sail away from Byzantium. It was only on the pressing instance of
Anaxibius that he was induced to go back to Chrysopolis and conduct the
army across; on the understanding that he should depart immediately
afterwards.

Here at Byzantium, he received his first communication from the Thracian
prince Seuthęs; who sent Medosadęs to offer him a reward if he would
bring the army across. Xenophon replied that the army would cross; that
no reward from Seuthęs was needful to bring about that movement; but
that he himself was about to depart, leaving the command in other hands.
In point of fact, the whole army crossed with little delay, landed in
Europe, and found themselves within the walls of Byzantium. Xenophon,
who had come along with them, paid a visit shortly afterwards to his
friend the governor Kleander, and took leave of him as about to depart
immediately. But Kleander told him that he must not think of departing
until the army was out of the city, and that he would be held
responsible if they stayed. In truth Kleander was very uneasy so long as
the soldiers were within the walls, and was well aware that it might be
no easy matter to induce them to go away. For Anaxibius had practised a
gross fraud in promising them pay, which he had neither the ability nor
the inclination to provide. Without handing to them either pay or even
means of purchasing supplies, he issued orders that they must go forth
with arms and baggage, and muster outside of the gates, there to be
numbered for an immediate march; any one who stayed behind being held as
punishable. This proclamation was alike unexpected and offensive to the
soldiers, who felt that they had been deluded, and were very backward in
obeying. Hence Kleander, while urgent with Xenophon to defer his
departure until he had conducted the army outside of the walls,
added--"Go forth as if you were about to march along with them; when you
are once outside, you may depart as soon as you please;" Xenophon
replied that this matter must be settled with Anaxibius, to whom
accordingly both of them went, and who repeated the same directions, in
a manner yet more peremptory. Though it was plain to Xenophon that he
was here making himself a sort of instrument to the fraud which
Anaxibius had practised upon the army, yet he had no choice but to obey.
Accordingly, he as well as the other generals put themselves at the head
of the troops, who followed, however reluctantly, and arrived most of
them outside of the gates. Eteonikus (a Lacedćmonian officer of
consideration, noticed more than once in preceding Grecian history)
commanding at the gate, stood close to it in person; in order that when
all the Cyreians had gone forth, he might immediately shut it and fasten
it with the bar.

Anaxibius knew well what he was doing. He fully anticipated that the
communication of the final orders would occasion an outbreak among the
Cyreians, and was anxious to defer it until they were outside. But when
there remained only the rearmost companies still in the inside and on
their march, all the rest having got out--he thought the danger was
over, and summoned to him the generals and captains, all of whom were
probably near the gates superintending the march through. It seems that
Xenophon, having given notice that he intended to depart, did not answer
to this summons as one of the generals, but remained outside among the
soldiers. "Take what supplies you want (said Anaxibius) from the
neighboring Thracian villages, which are well furnished with wheat,
barley, and other necessaries. After thus providing yourselves, march
forward to the Chersonesus,[103] and there Kyniskus will give you pay."

This was the first distinct intimation given by Anaxibius that he did
not intend to perform his promise of finding pay for the soldiers. Who
Kyniskus was we do not know, nor was he probably known to the Cyreians;
but the march here enjoined was at least 150 miles, and might be much
longer. The route was not indicated, and the generals had to inquire
from Anaxibius whether they were to go by what was called the Holy
Mountain (that is, by the shorter line, skirting the northern coast of
the Propontis), or by a more inland and circuitous road through
Thrace;--also whether they were to regard the Thracian prince, Seuthęs,
as a friend or an enemy.


§ 17. Mutiny of the army in leaving Byzantium.

Instead of the pay which had been formally promised to them by Anaxibius
if they would cross over from Asia to Byzantium, the Cyreians thus found
themselves sent away empty-handed to a long march--through another
barbarous country, with chance-supplies to be obtained only by their own
efforts,--and at the end of it a lot unknown and uncertain; while, had
they remained in Asia, they would have had at any rate the rich satrapy
of Pharnabazus within their reach. To perfidy of dealing was now added a
brutal ejectment from Byzantium, without even the commonest
manifestations of hospitality; contrasting pointedly with the treatment
which the army had recently experienced at Trapezus, Sinôpę, and
Herakleia; where they had been welcomed not only by compliments on their
past achievements, but also by an ample present of flour, meat, and
wine. Such behavior could not fail to provoke the most violent
indignation in the bosoms of the soldiery; and Anaxibius had therefore
delayed giving the order until the last soldiers were marching out,
thinking that the army would hear nothing of it until the generals came
out of the gates to inform them; so that the gates would be closed, and
the walls manned to resist an assault from without. But his calculations
were not realized. Either one of the soldiers passing by heard him give
the order, or one of the captains forming his audience stole away from
the rest, and hastened forward to acquaint his comrades on the outside.
The bulk of the army, already irritated by the inhospitable way in which
they had been thrust out, needed nothing farther to inflame them into
spontaneous mutiny and aggression. While the generals within (who either
took the communication more patiently, or at least, looking farther
forward, felt that any attempt to resent or resist the ill-usage of the
Spartan admiral would only make their position worse) were discussing
with Anaxibius the details of the march just enjoined--the soldiers
without, bursting into spontaneous movement, with a simultaneous and
fiery impulse, made a rush back to get possession of the gate. But
Eteonikus, seeing their movement, closed it without a moment's delay,
and fastened the bar. The soldiers on reaching the gate and finding it
barred, clamored loudly to get it opened, threatened to break it down,
and even began to knock violently against it. Some ran down to the
sea-coast, and made their way into the city round the line of stones at
the base of the city wall, which protected it against the sea; while the
rearmost soldiers who had not yet marched out, seeing what was passing,
and fearful of being cut off from their comrades, assaulted the gate
from the inside, severed the fastenings with axes, and threw it wide
open to the army. All the soldiers then rushed up, and were soon again
in Byzantium.

Nothing could exceed the terror of the Lacedćmonians as well as of the
native Byzantines, when they saw the excited Cyreians again within the
walls. The town seemed already taken and on the point of being
plundered. Neither Anaxibius nor Eteonikus took the smallest means of
resistance, nor stayed to brave the approach of the soldiers, whose
wrath they were fully conscious of having deserved. Both fled to the
citadel--the former first running to the seashore, and jumping into a
fishing-boat to go thither by sea. He even thought the citadel not
tenable with its existing garrison, and sent over to Chalkędon for a
reinforcement. Still more terrified were the citizens of the town. Every
man in the market-place instantly fled; some to their houses, others to
the merchant vessels in the harbor, others to the triremes or ships of
war, which they hauled down to the water, and thus put to sea.

To the deception and harshness of the Spartan admiral, there was thus
added a want of precaution in the manner of execution, which threatened
to prove the utter ruin of Byzantium. For it was but too probable that
the Cyreian soldiers, under the keen sense of recent injury, would
satiate their revenge, and reimburse themselves for the want of
hospitality towards them, without distinguishing the Lacedćmonian
garrison from the Byzantine citizens; and that too from mere impulse,
not merely without orders, but in spite of prohibitions, from their
generals. Such was the aspect of the case, when they became again
assembled in a mass within the gates; and such would probably have been
the reality, had Xenophon executed his design of retiring earlier, so as
to leave the other generals acting without him. Being on the outside
along with the soldiers, Xenophon felt at once, as soon as he saw the
gates forced open and the army again within the town, the terrific
emergency which was impending: first, the sack of Byzantium--next,
horror and antipathy, throughout all Greece, towards the Cyreian
officers and soldiers indiscriminately--lastly, unsparing retribution
inflicted upon all by the power of Sparta. Overwhelmed with these
anxieties, he rushed into the town along with the multitude, using
every effort to pacify them and bring them into order. They on their
parts, delighted to see him along with them, and conscious of their own
force, were eager to excite him to the same pitch as themselves, and to
prevail on him to second and methodize their present triumph. "Now is
your time, Xenophon (they exclaimed), to make yourself a man. You have
here a city--you have triremes--you have money--you have plenty of
soldiers. Now then, if you choose, you can enrich us; and we in return
can make you powerful."--"You speak well (replied he); I shall do as you
propose; but if you want to accomplish anything, you must fall into
military array forthwith." He knew that this was the first condition of
returning to anything like tranquillity; and by great good fortune, the
space called the Thrakion,[104] immediately adjoining the gate inside,
was level, open, and clear of houses; presenting an excellent place of
arms or locality for a review. The whole army,--partly from their long
military practice, partly under the impression that Xenophon was really
about to second their wishes and direct some aggressive operation--threw
themselves almost of their own accord into regular array on the
Thrakion; the heavy-armed foot-soldiers eight deep, the light-armed
foot-soldiers on each flank. It was in this position that Xenophon
addressed them as follows.


§ 18. Xenophon's speech to the soldiers.

"Soldiers, I am not surprised that you are incensed, and that you think
yourselves scandalously cheated and ill-used. But if we give way to our
wrath--if we punish these Lacedćmonians now before us for their
treachery, and plunder this innocent city--reflect what will be the
consequence. We shall stand proclaimed forthwith as enemies to the
Lacedćmonians and their allies, and what sort of a war that will be,
those who have witnessed and who still recollect recent matters of
history may easily fancy. We Athenians entered into the war against
Sparta with a powerful army and fleet, an abundant revenue, and numerous
tributary cities in Asia as well as Europe--among them this very
Byzantium in which we now stand. We have been vanquished in the way that
all of you know. And what then will be the fate of us soldiers, when we
shall have as united enemies, Sparta with all her old allies and Athens
besides,--Tissaphernęs and the barbaric forces on the coast--and most of
all the Great King[105] whom we marched up to dethrone and slay, if we
were able? Is any man fool enough to think that we have a chance of
making head against so many combined enemies? Let us not plunge madly
into dishonor and ruin, nor incur the enmity of our own fathers and
friends: who are in the cities which will take arms against us--and will
take arms justly, if we, who abstained from seizing any barbaric city,
even when we were in force sufficient, shall nevertheless now plunder
the first Grecian city into which we have been admitted. As far as I am
concerned, may I be buried ten thousand fathoms deep in the earth rather
than see you do such things! and I exhort _you_ too, as Greeks, to obey
the leaders of Greece. Endeavor while thus obedient, to obtain your just
rights; but if you should fail in this, rather submit to injustice than
cut yourselves off from the Grecian world. Send to inform Anaxibius,
that we have entered the city, not with a view to commit any violence,
but in the hope, if possible, of obtaining from him the advantages which
he promised us. If we fail, we shall at least prove to him that we quit
the city not under his fraudulent manoeuvres, but under our own sense of
the duty of obedience."

This speech completely arrested the impetuous impulse of the army,
brought them to a true sense of their situation, and induced them to
adopt the proposition of Xenophon. They remained unmoved in their
position on the Thrakion, while three of the captains were sent to
communicate with Anaxibius. While they were thus waiting, a Theban named
Koeratadas approached, who had once commanded in Byzantium under the
Lacedćmonians during the previous war. He had now become a sort of
professional general looking out for an army to command wherever he
could find one, and offering his services to any city which would engage
him. He addressed the assembled Cyreians, and offered, if they would
accept him for their general, to conduct them against the Delta[106] of
Thrace (the space included between the northwest corner of the
Propontis[107] and the southwest corner of the Euxine), which he
asserted to be a rich territory presenting great opportunity of plunder:
he further promised to furnish them with ample subsistence during the
march. Presently the envoys returned, bearing the reply of Anaxibius;
who received the message favorably, promising that not only the army
should have no cause to regret their obedience, but that he would both
report their good conduct to the authorities at home, and do everything
in his own power to promote their comfort. He said nothing farther about
taking them into pay; that delusion having now answered its purpose. The
soldiers, on hearing his communication, adopted a resolution to accept
Koeratadas as their future commander, and then marched out of the town.
As soon as they were on the outside, Anaxibius, not content with closing
the gates against them, made public proclamation that if any one of them
were found in the town, he should be sold forthwith into slavery.

There are few cases throughout Grecian history in which an able
discourse has been the means of averting so much evil, as was averted by
this speech of Xenophon to the army in Byzantium. Nor did he ever,
throughout the whole period of his command, render to them a more signal
service. The miserable consequences, which would have ensued, had the
army persisted in their aggressive impulse--first, to the citizens of
the town, ultimately to themselves, while Anaxibius, the only guilty
person, had the means of escaping by sea, even under the worst
circumstances--are stated by Xenophon rather under than above the
reality. At the same time no orator ever undertook a more difficult
case, or achieved a fuller triumph over unpromising conditions. If we
consider the feelings and position of the army at the instant of their
breaking into the town, we shall be astonished that any commander could
have arrested their movements. Though fresh from all the glory of their
retreat, they had been first treacherously entrapped over from Asia,
next roughly ejected by Anaxibius; and although it may be said truly
that the citizens of Byzantium had no concern either in the one or the
other, yet little heed is commonly taken, in military operations, to
the distinction between garrison and citizens in an assailed town.
Having arms in their hands, with consciousness of force arising out of
their exploits in Asia, the Cyreians were at the same time inflamed by
the opportunity both of avenging a gross recent injury, and enriching
themselves in the process of execution; to which we may add, the
excitement of that rush whereby they had obtained re-entry, and the
farther fact that, without the gates they had nothing to expect except
poor, hard, uninviting service in Thrace. With soldiers already
possessed by an overpowering impulse of this nature, what chance was
there that a retiring general, on the point of quitting the army, could
so work upon their minds as to induce them to renounce the prey before
them? Xenophon had nothing to invoke except distant considerations,
partly of Hellenic reputation, chiefly of prudence; considerations
indeed of unquestionable reality and prodigious magnitude, yet belonging
all to a distant future, and therefore of little comparative force,
except when set forth in magnified characters by the orator. How
powerfully he worked upon the minds of his hearers, so as to draw forth
these far-removed dangers from the cloud of present sentiment by which
they were overlaid--how skilfully he employed in illustration the
example of his own native city--will be seen by all who study his
speech. Never did his Athenian accomplishments--his talent for giving
words to important thoughts--his promptitude in seizing a present
situation and managing the sentiments of an impetuous multitude--appear
to greater advantage than when he was thus suddenly called forth to meet
a terrible emergency. His pre-established reputation and the habit of
obeying his orders, were doubtless essential conditions of success. But
none of his colleagues in command would have been able to accomplish the
like memorable change on the minds of the soldiers, or to procure
obedience for any simple authoritative restraint; nay, it is probable,
that if Xenophon had not been at hand, the other generals would have
followed the passionate movement, even though they had been
reluctant--from simple inability to repress it. Again--whatever might
have been the accomplishments of Xenophon, it is certain that even _he_
would not have been able to work upon the minds of these excited
soldiers, had they not been Greeks and citizens as well as
soldiers,--bred in Hellenic sympathies and accustomed to Hellenic order,
with authority operating in part through voice and persuasion, and not
through the Persian whip and instruments of torture. The memorable
discourse on the Thrakion at Byzantium illustrates the working of that
persuasive agency which formed one of the permanent forces and
conspicuous charms of Hellenism. It teaches us that if the orator could
sometimes accuse innocent defendants and pervert well-disposed
assemblies--a part of the case which historians of Greece often present
as if it were the whole--he could also, and that in the most trying
emergencies, combat the strongest force of present passion, and bring
into vivid presence the half-obscured lineaments of long-sighted reason
and duty.


§ 19. The army finally leaves Byzantium; Seuthęs offers to hire them.

After conducting the army out of the city, Xenophon sent, through
Kleander, a message to Anaxibius, requesting that he himself might be
allowed to come in again singly, in order to take his departure by sea.
His request was granted, though not without much difficulty; upon which
he took leave of the army under the strongest expressions of affection
and gratitude on their part and went into Byzantium along with Kleander;
while on the next day Koeratadas came to assume the command according to
agreement, bringing with him a prophet, and beasts to be offered in
sacrifice. There followed in his train twenty men carrying sacks of
barley-meal, twenty more with jars of wine, three bearing olives, and
one man with a bundle of garlic and onions. All these provisions being
laid down, Koeratadas proceeded to offer sacrifice, as a preliminary to
the distribution of them among the soldiers. On the first day, the
sacrifices being unfavorable, no distribution took place; on the second
day, Koeratadas was standing with the wreath on his head at the altar,
and with the victims beside him, about to renew his sacrifice--when
Timasion and the other officers interfered, desired him to abstain, and
dismissed him from the command. Perhaps the first unfavorable sacrifices
may have partly impelled them to this proceeding. But the main reason
was, the scanty store, inadequate even to one day's subsistence for the
army, brought by Koeratadas--and the obvious insufficiency of his means.

On the departure of Koeratadas, the army marched to take up its quarters
in some Thracian villages not far from Byzantium, under its former
officers; who however could not agree as to their future order of march.
Kleanor and Phryniskus, who had received presents from Seuthęs, urged
the expediency of accepting the service of that Thracian prince: Neon
insisted on going to Chersonese, to be under the Lacedćmonian officers
in that peninsula (as Anaxibius had projected); in the idea that he, as
a Lacedćmonian, would there obtain the command of the whole army; while
Timasion, with the view of re-establishing himself in his native city of
Dardanus, proposed returning to the Asiatic side of the strait.

Though this last plan met with decided favor among the army, it could
not be executed without vessels. These Timasion had little or no means
of procuring; so that considerable delay took place, during which the
soldiers, receiving no pay, fell into much distress. Many of them were
even compelled to sell their arms in order to get subsistence; while
others got permission to settle in some of the neighboring towns, on
condition of being disarmed. The whole army was thus gradually melting
away, much to the satisfaction of Anaxibius, who was anxious to see the
purposes of Pharnabazus accomplished. By degrees, it would probably have
been dissolved altogether, had not a change of interest on the part of
Anaxibius induced him to promote its reorganization. He sailed from
Byzantium to the Asiatic coast, to acquaint Pharnabazus that the
Cyreians could no longer cause uneasiness, and to require his own
promised reward. It seems moreover that Xenophon himself departed from
Byzantium by the same opportunity. When they reached Kyzikus, they met
the Lacedćmonian Aristarchus; who was coming out as a newly-appointed
governor of Byzantium, to supersede Kleander, and who acquainted
Anaxibius that Polus was on the point of arriving to supersede him as
admiral. Anxious to meet Pharnabazus and make sure of his bribe,
Anaxibius impressed his parting injunction upon Aristarchus to sell for
slaves all the Cyreians whom he might find at Byzantium on his arrival,
and then pursued his voyage along the southern coast of the Propontis to
Parium. But Pharnabazus, having already received intimation of the
change of admirals, knew that the friendship of Anaxibius was no longer
of any value, and took no farther heed of him; while he at the same time
sent to Byzantium to make the like compact with Aristarchus against the
Cyreian army.

Anaxibius was stung to the quick at this combination of disappointment
and insult on the part of the satrap. To avenge it, he resolved to
employ those very soldiers whom he had first corruptly and fraudulently
brought across to Europe, cast out from Byzantium, and lastly, ordered
to be sold into slavery, so far as any might yet be found in that town.
He now resolved to bring them back into Asia for the purpose of acting
against Pharnabazus. Accordingly he addressed himself to Xenophon, and
ordered him without a moment's delay to rejoin the army, for the purpose
of keeping it together, of recalling the soldiers who had departed, and
transporting the whole body across into Asia. He provided him with an
armed vessel of thirty oars to cross over from Parium to Perinthus,
sending over a peremptory order to the Perinthians to furnish him with
horses in order that he might reach the army with the greatest speed.
Perhaps it would not have been safe for Xenophon to disobey this order,
under any circumstances. But the idea of acting with the army in Asia
against Pharnabazus, under Lacedćmonian sanction, was probably very
acceptable to him. He hastened across to the army, who welcomed his
return with joy, and gladly embraced the proposal of crossing to Asia,
which was a great improvement upon their forlorn and destitute
condition. He accordingly conducted them to Perinthus, and encamped
under the walls of the town; refusing, in his way through Selymbria, a
second proposition from Seuthęs to engage the services of the army.

While Xenophon was exerting himself to procure transports for the
passage of the army at Perinthus, Aristarchus, the new governor, arrived
there with two triremes from Byzantium. It seems that not only
Byzantium, but also both Perinthus and Selymbria, were comprised in his
government as governor. On first reaching Byzantium to supersede
Kleander, he found there no less than 400 of the Cyreians chiefly sick
and wounded; whom Kleander, in spite of the ill-will of Anaxibius, had
not only refused to sell into slavery, but had billeted[108] upon the
citizens, and tended with solicitude; so much did his good feeling
towards Xenophon and towards the army now come into play. We read with
indignation that Aristarchus, immediately on reaching Byzantium to
supersede him, was not even contented with sending these 400 men out of
the town; but seized them,--Greeks, citizens, and soldiers as they
were--and sold them all into slavery. Apprised of the movements of
Xenophon with the army, he now came to Perinthus to prevent their
transit into Asia; laying an embargo on the transports in the harbor,
and presenting himself personally before the assembled army to prohibit
the soldiers from crossing. When Xenophon informed him that Anaxibius
had given them orders to cross, and had sent him expressly to conduct
them--Aristarchus replied, "Anaxibius is no longer in functions as
admiral, and I am governor in this town. If I catch any of you at sea, I
will sink you." On the next day, he sent to invite the generals and the
captains to a conference within the walls. They were just about to enter
the gates, when Xenophon, who was among them, received a private
warning, that if he went in, Aristarchus would seize him, and either put
him to death or send him prisoner to Pharnabazus. Accordingly Xenophon
sent forward the others, and remained himself with the army, alleging
the obligation of sacrificing. The behavior of Aristarchus--who, when he
saw the others without Xenophon, sent them away, and desired that they
would all come again in the afternoon--confirmed the justice of his
suspicions, as to the imminent danger from which he had been preserved
by this accidental warning. It need hardly be added that Xenophon
disregarded the second invitation no less than the first; moreover, a
third invitation, which Aristarchus afterwards sent, was disregarded by
all.

We have here a Lacedćmonian governor, not scrupling to lay a snare of
treachery, as flagrant as that which Tissaphernęs had practised on the
banks of the Zab, to entrap Klearchus and his colleagues--and that too
against a Greek, and an officer of the highest station and merit, who
had just saved Byzantium from pillage, and was now actually in execution
of orders received from the Lacedćmonian admiral Anaxibius. Assuredly,
had the accidental warning been withheld, Xenophon would not have
escaped falling into this snare; nor could we reasonably have charged
him with imprudence--so fully was he entitled to count upon
straightforward conduct under the circumstances. But the same cannot be
said of Klearchus, who manifested lamentable credulity, nefarious as was
the fraud to which he fell a victim.

At the second interview with the other officers, Aristarchus, while he
forbade the army to cross the water, directed them to force their way by
land through the Thracians who occupied the Holy Mountain, and thus to
arrive at the Chersonese; where (he said) they should receive pay. Neon
the Lacedćmonian, with about 800 heavy-armed foot-soldiers who adhered
to his separate command, advocated this plan as the best. To be set
against it, however, there was the proposition of Seuthęs to take the
army into pay; which Xenophon was inclined to prefer, uneasy at the
thoughts of being cooped up in the narrow peninsula of the Chersonese,
under the absolute command of the Lacedćmonian governor, with great
uncertainty both as to pay and as to provisions. Moreover it was
imperiously necessary for these disappointed troops to make some
immediate movement: for they had been brought to the gates of Perinthus
in hopes of passing immediately on shipboard; it was midwinter--they
were encamped in the open field, under the severe cold of Thrace--they
had neither assured supplies, nor even money to purchase, if a market
had been near. Xenophon, who had brought them to the neighborhood of
Perinthus, was now again responsible for extricating them from this
untenable situation; and began to offer sacrifices, according to his
wont, to ascertain whether the gods would encourage him to recommend a
covenant with Seuthęs. The sacrifices were so favorable, that he
himself, together with a confidential officer from each of the generals,
went by night and paid a visit to Seuthęs, for the purpose of
understanding distinctly his offers and purposes.

Mćsadęs, the father of Seuthęs, had been apparently a dependent prince
under the great monarchy of the Odrysian[109] Thracians; so formidable
in the early years of the Peloponnesian war. But political commotions
had robbed him of his principality over three Thracian tribes; which it
was now the ambition of Seuthęs to recover, by the aid of the Cyreian
army. He offered to each soldier one stater of Kyzikus (or nearly the
same as that which they originally received from Cyrus) as pay per
month; twice as much to each captain--four times as much to each of the
generals. In case they should incur the enmity of the Lacedćmonians by
joining him, he guaranteed to them all the right of settlement and
fraternal protection in his territory. To each of the generals, over and
above pay, he engaged to assign a fort on the sea-coast, with a lot of
land around it, and oxen for cultivation. And to Xenophon in particular,
he offered the possession of Bisanthę, his best point on the coast. "I
will also (he added, addressing Xenophon) give you my daughter in
marriage; and if you have any daughter, I will buy her from you in
marriage according to the custom of Thrace." Seuthęs farther engaged
never on any occasion to lead them more than seven days' journey from
the sea, at farthest.


§ 20. The army enters the service of Seuthęs.

These offers were as liberal as the army could possibly expect; and
Xenophon himself, mistrusting the Lacedćmonians as well as mistrusted by
them, seems to have looked forward to the acquisition of a Thracian
coast-fortress and territory (such as Miltiadęs, Alkibiadęs, and other
Athenian leaders had obtained before him) as a valuable refuge in case
of need. But even if the promise had been less favorable, the Cyreians
had no alternative; for they had not even present supplies--still less
any means of subsistence throughout the winter; while departure by sea
was rendered impossible by the Lacedćmonians. On the next day, Seuthęs
was introduced by Xenophon and the other generals to the army, who
accepted his offers and concluded the bargain.

They remained for two months in his service, engaged in warfare against
various Thracian tribes, whom they enabled him to conquer and despoil;
so that at the end of that period, he was in possession of an extensive
dominion, a large native force, and a considerable tribute. Though the
suffering from cold was extreme, during these two months of full winter
and amidst the snowy mountains of Thrace, the army were nevertheless
enabled by their expeditions along with Seuthęs to procure plentiful
subsistence; which they could hardly have done in any other manner. But
the pay which he had offered was never liquidated; at least, in requital
of their two months of service, they received pay only for twenty days
and a little more. And Xenophon himself, far from obtaining fulfilment
of those splendid promises which Seuthęs had made to him personally,
seems not even to have received his pay as one of the generals. For him,
the result was singularly unhappy; since he forfeited the goodwill of
Seuthęs by importunate demand and complaint for the purpose of obtaining
the pay due to the soldiers; while they on their side, imputing to his
connivance the non-fulfilment of the promise, became thus in part
alienated from him. Much of his mischief was brought about by the
treacherous intrigues and calumny of a corrupt Greek from Maroneia,
named Herakleidęs; who acted as minister and treasurer to Seuthęs.

Want of space compels me to omit the narrative given by Xenophon, both
of the relations of the army with Seuthęs, and of the warfare carried on
against the hostile Thracian tribes--interesting as it is from the
juxtaposition of Greek and Thracian manners. It seems to have been
composed by Xenophon under feelings of acute personal disappointment,
and probably in refutation of calumnies against himself as if he had
wronged the army. Hence we may trace in it a tone of exaggerated
querulousness, and complaint that the soldiers were ungrateful to him.
It is true that a portion of the army, under the belief that he had been
richly rewarded by Seuthęs while they had not obtained their stipulated
pay, expressed virulent sentiments and falsehoods against him. Until
such suspicions were refuted, it is no wonder that the army were
alienated; but they were perfectly willing to hear both sides--and
Xenophon triumphantly disproved the accusation. That in the end, their
feelings towards him were those of esteem and favor, stands confessed in
his own words, proving that the ingratitude of which he complains was
the feeling of some indeed, but not of all.

It is hard to say however what would have been the fate of this gallant
army, when Seuthęs, having obtained from their arms in two months all
that he desired, had become only anxious to send them off without
pay--had they not been extricated by a change of interest and policy on
the part of all-powerful Sparta. The Lacedćmonians had just declared war
against Tissaphernęs and Pharnabazus; sending Thimbron into Asia to
commence military operations. They then became extremely anxious to
transport the Cyreians across to Asia, which their governor Aristarchus
had hitherto prohibited--and to take them into permanent pay; for which
purpose two Lacedćmonians, Charmînus and Polynîkus, were commissioned by
Thimbron to offer to the army the same pay as he had promised, though
not paid, by Seuthęs; and as had been originally paid by Cyrus. Seuthęs
and Herakleidęs, eager to hasten the departure of the soldiers,
endeavored to take credit with the Lacedćmonians for assisting their
views. Joyfully did the army accept this offer, though complaining
loudly of the fraud practised upon them by Seuthęs; which Charmînus, at
the instance of Xenophon, vainly pressed the Thracian prince to redress.
He even sent Xenophon to demand the arrear of pay in the name of the
Lacedćmonians, which afforded to the Athenian an opportunity of
administering a severe lecture to Seuthęs. But the latter was not found
so accessible to the workings of eloquence as the Cyreian assembled
soldiers. Nor did Xenophon obtain anything beyond a miserable dividend
upon the sum due:--together with evil expressions towards himself
personally--an invitation to remain in his service with 1000 heavy-armed
soldiers instead of going to Asia with the army--and renewed promises,
not likely now to find much credit, of a fort and a grant of lands.


§ 21. Xenophon crosses over with the army to Asia.

When the army, now reduced by losses and dispersions, to 6000 men, was
prepared to cross into Asia, Xenophon was desirous of going back to
Athens, but was persuaded to remain with them until the junction with
Thimbron. He was at this time so poor, having scarcely enough to pay for
his journey home, that he was obliged to sell his horse at Lampsakus,
the Asiatic town where the army landed. Here he found Eukleidęs, a
Phliasian[110] prophet with whom he had been wont to hold intercourse
and offer sacrifice at Athens. This man, having asked Xenophon how much
he had acquired in the expedition, could not believe him when he
affirmed his poverty. But when they proceeded to offer sacrifice
together, from some animals sent by the Lampsakenes as a present to
Xenophon, Eukleidęs had no sooner inspected the entrails of the victims,
than he told Xenophon that he fully credited the statement. "I see (he
said) that even if money shall be ever on its way to come to you, you
yourself will be a hindrance to it, even if there be no other (here
Xenophon acquiesced): Zeus (the Gracious[111]) is the real bar. Have you
ever sacrificed to him, with entire burnt-offerings, as we used to do
together at Athens?" "Never (replied Xenophon), throughout the whole
march." "Do so now, then (said Eukleidęs), and it will be for your
advantage." The next day, on reaching Ophrynium, Xenophon obeyed the
injunction; sacrificing little pigs entire to Zeus the Gracious, as was
the custom at Athens during the public festival called Diasia.[112] And
on the very same day he felt the beneficial effects of the proceeding;
for Biton and another envoy came from the Lacedćmonians with an advance
of pay to the army, and dispositions so favorable to himself, that they
bought back for him his horse, which he had just sold at Lampsakus for
fifty darics. This was equivalent to giving him more than one year's pay
in hand (the pay which he would have received as general being four
darics per month, or four times that of the soldier), at a time when he
was known to be on the point of departure, and therefore would not stay
to earn it. The shortcomings of Seuthęs were now made up with immense
interest, so that Xenophon became better off than any man in the army;
though he himself slurs over the magnitude of the present, by
representing it as a delicate compliment to restore to him a favorite
horse.

Thus gratefully and instantaneously did Zeus the Gracious respond to the
sacrifice which Xenophon, after a long omission, had been admonished by
Eukleidęs to offer. And doubtless Xenophon was more than ever confirmed
in the belief, which manifests itself throughout all his writings, that
sacrifice not only indicates, by the interior aspect of the immolated
victims, the tenor of coming events--but also, according as it is
rendered to the right god and at the right season, determines his will,
and therefore the course of events, for dispensations favorable or
unfavorable.

But the favors of Zeus the Gracious, though begun, were not yet ended.
Xenophon conducted the army through the Troad,[113] and across Mount
Ida, to Antandrus; from thence along the coast of Lydia, through the
plain of Thębę and the town Adramyttium, leaving Atarneus on the right
hand, to Pergamus[114] in Mysia; a hill town overhanging the river and
plain of Kaikus. This district was occupied by the descendants of the
Eretrian[115] Gongylus, who, having been banished, for embracing the
cause of the Persians when Xerxes invaded Greece, had been rewarded
(like the Spartan king Demaratus) with this sort of principality under
the Persian empire. His descendant, another Gongylus, now occupied
Pergamus, with his wife Hellas and his sons Gorgion and Gongylus.
Xenophon was here received with great hospitality. Hellas acquainted
him, that a powerful Persian, named Asidatęs, was now dwelling, with his
wife, family, and property, in a tower not far off on the plain; and
that a sudden night march, with 300 men, would suffice for the capture
of this valuable booty, to which her own cousin should guide him.
Accordingly, having sacrificed and ascertained that the victims were
favorable, Xenophon communicated his plan after the evening meal to
those captains who had been most attached to him throughout the
expedition, wishing to make them partners in the profit. As soon as it
became known, many volunteers, to the number of 600, pressed to be
allowed to join. But the captains repelled them, declining to take more
than 300, in order that the booty might afford an ampler dividend to
each partner.

Beginning their march in the evening, Xenophon and his detachment of 300
reached about midnight the tower of Asidatęs. It was large, lofty,
thickly built, and contained a considerable garrison. It served for
protection to his cattle and cultivating slaves around, like a baronial
castle in the Middle Ages; but the assailants neglected this outlying
plunder, in order to be more sure of taking the castle itself. Its walls
however were found much stronger than was expected; and although a
breach was made by force about daybreak, yet so vigorous was the defence
of the garrison, that no entrance could be effected. Signals and shouts
of every kind were made by Asidatęs to procure aid from the Persian
forces in the neighborhood; numbers of whom soon began to arrive, so
that Xenophon and his company were obliged to retreat. And their retreat
was at last only accomplished, after severe suffering and wounds to
nearly half of them, through the aid of Gongylus with his forces from
Pergamus, and of Proklęs (the descendant of Demaratus) from Halisarna, a
little farther off seaward.

Though his first enterprise thus miscarried, Xenophon soon laid plans
for a second, employing the whole army; and succeeded in bringing
Asidatęs prisoner to Pergamus, with his wife, children, horses, and all
his personal property. Thus (says he, anxious above all things for the
credit of sacrificial prophecy) the "previous sacrifices (those which
had promised favorably before the first unsuccessful attempt) now came
true." The persons of this family were doubtless redeemed by their
Persian friends for a large ransom; which, together with the booty
brought in, made up a prodigious total to be divided.

In making the division, a general tribute of sympathy and admiration was
paid to Xenophon, in which all the army--generals, captains, and
soldiers--and the Lacedćmonians besides--unanimously concurred. Like
Agamemnon at Troy, he was allowed to select for himself the picked lots
of horses, mules, oxen, and other items of booty; insomuch that he
became possessor of a share valuable enough to enrich him at once, in
addition to the fifty darics which he had before received. "Here then
Xenophon (to use his own language) had no reason to complain of the god"
(Zeus the Gracious). We may add--what he himself ought to have added,
considering the accusations which he had before put forth--that neither
had he any reason to complain of the ingratitude of the army.


§ 22. Xenophon takes leave of the army. Conclusion.

As soon as Thimbron arrived with his own forces, and the Cyreians became
a part of his army, Xenophon took his leave of them. Having deposited in
the temple at Ephesus[116] that portion which had been confided to him
as general, of the tenth set apart by the army at Kerasus for the
Ephesian Artemis, he seems to have executed his intention of returning
to Athens. He must have arrived there, after an absence of about two
years and a half, within a few weeks, at farthest, after the death of
his friend and preceptor Sokratęs,[117] whose trial and condemnation
have been recorded in my last volume. That melancholy event certainly
occurred during his absence from Athens; but whether it had come to his
knowledge before he reached the city, we do not know. How much grief and
indignation it excited in his mind, we may see by his collection of
memoranda respecting the life and conversations of Sokratęs, known by
the name of Memorabilia, and probably put together shortly after his
arrival.

That he was again in Asia three years afterwards, on military service
under the Lacedćmonian king Agesilaus, is a fact attested by himself;
but at what precise moment he quitted Athens for his second visit to
Asia, we are left to conjecture. I incline to believe that he did not
remain many months at home, but that he went out again in the next
spring to rejoin the Cyreians in Asia--became again their commander--and
served for two years under the Spartan general Derkyllidas before the
arrival of Agesilaus. Such military service would doubtless be very much
to his taste; while a residence at Athens, then subject and quiescent,
would probably be distasteful to him; both from the habits of command
which he had contracted during the previous two years, and from feelings
arising out of the death of Sokratęs. After a certain interval of
repose, he would be disposed to enter again upon the war against his old
enemy Tissaphernęs; and his service went on when Agesilaus arrived to
take the command.

But during the two years after this latter event, Athens became a party
to the war against Sparta, and entered into conjunction with the king of
Persia as well as with the Thebans and others; while Xenophon,
continuing his service as commander of the Cyreians, and accompanying
Agesilaus from Asia back into Greece, became engaged against the
Athenian troops and their Boeotian allies at the bloody battle of
Korôneia. Under these circumstances, we cannot wonder that the Athenians
passed sentence of banishment against him;[118] not because he had
originally taken part in aid of Cyrus against Artaxerxęs--nor because
his political sentiments were unfriendly to democracy, as has been
sometimes erroneously affirmed--but because he was now openly in arms,
and in conspicuous command, against his own country. Having thus become
an exile, Xenophon was allowed by the Lacedćmonians to settle at
Skillűs, one of the villages of Triphylia, near Olympia in Peloponnesus,
which they had recently emancipated from the Eleians. At one of the
ensuing Olympic festivals,[119] Megabyzus, the superintendent of the
temple of Artemis at Ephesus, came over as a spectator; bringing with
him the money which Xenophon had dedicated therein to the Ephesian
Artemis. This money Xenophon invested in the purchase of lands at
Skillűs, to be consecrated in permanence to the goddess; having
previously consulted her by sacrifice to ascertain her approval of the
site contemplated, which site was recommended to him by its resemblance
in certain points to that of the Ephesian temple. Thus, there was near
each of them a river called by the same name Selinűs, having in it fish
and a shelly bottom. Xenophon constructed a chapel, an altar, and a
statue of the goddess made of cypress-wood: all exact copies, on a
reduced scale, of the temple and golden statue at Ephesus. A column
placed near them was inscribed with the following words--"This spot is
sacred to Artemis. Whoever possesses the property and gathers its
fruits, must sacrifice to her the tenth every year, and keep the chapel
in repair out of the remainder. Should any one omit this duty, the
goddess herself will take the omission in hand."

Immediately near the chapel was an orchard of every description of
fruit-trees, while the estate around comprised an extensive range of
meadow, woodland, and mountain--with the still loftier mountain called
Pholoę adjoining. There was thus abundant pasture for horses, oxen,
sheep, and also excellent hunting-ground near, for deer and other game;
advantages not to be found near the Artemision[120] at Ephesus. Residing
hard by on his own property, allotted to him by the Lacedćmonians,
Xenophon superintended this estate as steward for the goddess; looking
perhaps to the sanctity of her name for protection from disturbance by
the Eleians, who viewed with a jealous eye the Lacedćmonians at Skillűs,
and protested against the peace and convention promoted by Athens after
the battle of Leuktra, because it recognized that place, along with the
townships of Triphylia, as having the right of self-government. Every
year he made a splendid sacrifice, from the tenth of all the fruits of
the property; to which solemnity not only all the Skilluntines, but also
all the neighboring villages, were invited. Booths were erected for the
visitors, to whom the goddess furnished (this is the language of
Xenophon) an ample dinner of barley-meal, wheaten loaves, meat, game,
and sweetmeats; the game being provided by a general hunt, which the
sons of Xenophon conducted, and in which all the neighbors took part if
they chose. The produce of the estate, saving this tithe or tenth and
subject to the obligation of keeping the holy building in repair, was
enjoyed by Xenophon himself. He had a keen relish for both hunting and
horsemanship, and was among the first authors, so far as we know, who
ever made these pursuits, with the management of horses and dogs, the
subject of rational study and description.

Such was the use to which Xenophon applied the tithe voted by the army
at Kerasus to the Ephesian Artemis; the other tithe, voted at the same
time to Apollo, he dedicated at Delphi in the treasure-chamber of the
Athenians, inscribing upon the offering his own name and that of
Proxenus. His residence being only at a distance of a little more than
two miles from the great temple of Olympia,[121] he was enabled to enjoy
society with every variety of Greeks--and to obtain copious information
about Grecian politics, chiefly from philo-Laconian informants, and with
the Lacedćmonian point of view predominant in his own mind; while he had
also leisure for the composition of his various works. The interesting
description which he himself gives of his residence at Skillűs implies a
state of things not present and continuing, but past and gone; other
testimonies too, though confused and contradictory, seem to show that
the Lacedćmonian settlement at Skillűs lasted no longer than the power
of Lacedćmon was adequate to maintain it. During the misfortunes which
befell that city after the battle of Leuktra (371 B.C.), Xenophon, with
his family and his fellow-settlers, was expelled by the Eleians, and is
then said to have found shelter at Corinth. But as Athens soon came to
be not only at peace, but in intimate alliance, with Sparta--the
sentence of banishment against Xenophon was revoked; so that the latter
part of his life was again passed in the enjoyment of his birthright as
an Athenian citizen and Knight.[122] Two of his sons, Gryllus and
Diodorus, fought among the Athenian horsemen at the cavalry combat which
preceded the battle of Mantineia, where the former was slain, after
manifesting distinguished bravery; while his grandson Xenophon became in
the next generation the subject of a pleading before the Athenian court
of justice, composed by the orator Deinarchus.

On bringing this accomplished and eminent leader to the close of that
arduous retreat which he had conducted with so much honor, I have
thought it necessary to anticipate a little on the future in order to
take a glance at his subsequent destiny. To his exile (in this point of
view not less useful than that of Thucydidęs) we probably owe many of
those compositions from which so much of our knowledge of Grecian
affairs is derived. But to the contemporary world, the retreat, which
Xenophon so successfully conducted, afforded a far more impressive
lesson than any of his literary compositions. It taught in the most
striking manner the impotence of the Persian land-force, manifested not
less in the generals than in the soldiers. It proved that the Persian
leaders were unfit for any systematic operations, even under the
greatest possible advantages, against a small number of disciplined
warriors resolutely bent on resistance; that they were too stupid and
reckless even to obstruct the passage of rivers, or destroy roads, or
cut off supplies. It more than confirmed the contemptuous language
applied to them by Cyrus himself, before the battle of Kunaxa; when he
proclaimed that he envied the Greeks their freedom, and that he was
ashamed of the worthlessness of his own countrymen. Against such perfect
weakness and disorganization, nothing prevented the success of the
Greeks along with Cyrus, except his own paroxysm of fraternal antipathy.
And we shall perceive hereafter the military and political leaders of
Greece--Agesilaus, Jason of Pherć, and others down to Philip and
Alexander[123]--firmly persuaded that with a tolerably numerous and
well-appointed Grecian force, combined with exemption from Grecian
enemies, they could succeed in overthrowing or dismembering the Persian
empire. This conviction, so important in the subsequent history of
Greece, takes its date from the retreat of the Ten Thousand. We shall
indeed find Persia exercising an important influence, for two
generations to come--and at the peace of Antalkidas an influence
stronger than ever--over the destinies of Greece. But this will be seen
to arise from the treason of Sparta, the chief of the Hellenic world,
who abandons the Asiatic Greeks, and even arms herself with the name and
the force of Persia, for purposes of aggrandizement and dominion to
herself. Persia is strong by being enabled to employ Hellenic strength
against the Hellenic cause; by lending money or a fleet to one side or
the other of the Grecian parties, and thus becoming artificially
strengthened against both. But the Xenophontic Anabasis[124] betrays her
real weakness against any vigorous attack; while it at the same time
exemplifies the discipline, the endurance, the power of self-action and
adaptation, the susceptibility of influence from speech and discussion,
the combination of the reflecting obedience of citizens with the
mechanical regularity of soldiers--which confer such immortal
distinction on the Hellenic character. The importance of this expedition
and retreat, as an illustration of the Hellenic qualities and
excellence, will justify the large space which has been devoted to it in
this History.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] =Kunaxa=: see Introduction.

[3] =Heralds=: officers who proclaimed war or peace, challenged to
battle, and were bearers of messages from the commander-in-chief or
king; here, messengers.

[4] =Sacrifice=: it was the custom of the Greeks to examine the entrails
of the animals they sacrificed, in order that from their appearance they
might learn the will of the gods; and next, that they might gain a
knowledge of coming events.

In all important undertakings these signs were carefully consulted,
before any decisive action was taken.

[5] =Hellenic=: pertaining to the Hellenes, or Greeks; Grecian.

[6] =Array=: disposition of forces with reference to defence or attack.

[7] =Herald=: here used apparently in the sense of a public crier.

[8] This seems to have been a standing military jest, to make the
soldiers laugh at their past panic.

[9] =Talent=: about 57 pounds avoirdupois; or, taking silver at its
present value, about $1250.

[10] =Phalanx=: a body of troops in compact array, with their shields
joined and their pikes or spears crossing each other, so as to present a
firm, unbroken front to the foe.

[11] =Irrigation=: during the long dry summer the crops in this region
would have perished from drought if the fields had not been watered.
This was done by a system of canals, in which the supply of water, drawn
from the overflow of the Tigris and Euphrates during the spring floods,
was stored up to be used when needed. So abundant was the growth of
grain on this rich soil that Herodotus did not dare state the amount for
fear that he would be thought guilty of exaggeration.

[12] =Corn=: any kind of grain used for food.

[13] =Satrap=: the governor of a Persian province.

[14] =Cyreian Greeks=: those Greeks who had engaged in the expedition of
Cyrus in his attempt to seize the throne of Persia. See Introduction.

[15] =Covenant=: a solemn agreement or treaty which both parties bound
themselves to keep by oath, calling on their respective gods to punish
them if they violated the compact.

[16] =Convention=: treaty or agreement.

[17] See note on p. 38.

[18] =Tribute=: this was an annual tax so heavy and so cruelly extorted
that it kept the great body of the people in a state little better than
that of slavery.

[19] =Cyreian Persians=: those Persians who had espoused the cause of
Cyrus in his attempt to seize the throne.

[20] =Amnesty=: pardon.

[21] =Strike our tents=: take down our tents.

[22] =Barbarians=: the Greeks called all foreigners "barbarians." This
word, however, did not generally express contempt, or necessarily imply
lack of civilization, but was used to designate those who spoke another
language than Greek.

[23] =Ionia=: see note on p. 21.

[24] =Wall of Media=: a wall supposed to have extended from the
Euphrates to the Tigris. It cannot now be traced with certainty.

[25] =Bitumen=: mineral pitch or asphalt. It is now much used for
cement, for making pavements, and for covering flat roofs.

[26] =Pontoons=: light framework or floats on which a platform or
roadway is laid for a temporary bridge. Boats or canoes, placed side by
side, and covered with planks, are not infrequently so used.

[27] =Inflated skins=: bags or vessels made of the skins of sheep and
other animals. They are quite commonly used in the East for carrying
wine and other liquids. When inflated they are also employed as above
mentioned.

[28] =Mysians and Pisidians=: see note on p. 35.

[29] =Ionia=: the central part of the western coast of Asia Minor. Here,
at a very early period, flourishing Greek colonies were planted, and
Ionia became celebrated for its art, its literature, and its cities,
such as Ephesus and Miletus. But the country could not maintain its
independence against the Eastern kings, and was at this period tributary
to Persia. If the Ten Thousand could reach Ionia they would be among
fellow-countrymen and friends, and within easy sail of all parts of
Greece.

[30] =Tiara=: a flexible cap worn by the Persians. The king alone had
the right to wear it erect and high, as a badge of royal authority. Some
suppose that when Tissaphernęs says that though he cannot openly place
the high tiara on his head, but shall wear it on his heart (feeling like
a king if not looking like one), that he purposely uses the language
"the better to blind Klearchus," and make him think that if the Greeks
will aid him with their arms, he will revolt and aspire to become king
in fact.

[31] =Philhellenic=: Greek-loving.

[32] =Miletus=: a city of Ionia, subject in a measure to Athens,
revolted in 412 B.C. The next year the Lacedćmonians, or Spartans, who
were the enemies of Athens, sent over a fleet to aid the people of
Miletus. Tissaphernęs, the Persian satrap, desiring to see the power of
Athens completely overthrown, promised to pay the Spartan soldiers (of
whom Klearchus was one), but afterwards made up his mind not to do so,
and left them to fight at their own expense.

[33] =Arcadian=: an inhabitant of Arcadia, a district of the
Peloponnesian peninsula, Greece.

[34] =Democrat and philosopher=: Xenophon (431?-355 B.C.) belonged to
that party in Athens that maintained the principle of government "of the
people, by the people, and for the people," in opposition to the party
that, like the Spartans, believed that all political power should be
monopolized by a favored few. Xenophon was also the disciple and friend
of Socrates the philosopher, of whom some account will be given later
on.

[35] =Oneirus=: the god of dreams and messenger of Zeus (Jupiter),
father of gods and men, sometimes called Zeus the Preserver, Saviour, or
Deliverer.

[36] =Zeus=: see note above on Oneirus.

[37] =Boeotian dialect=: the inhabitants of the Greek province of
Boeotia were considered by the Athenians to be a dull and unprogressive
people. They spoke a broad, coarse dialect.

[38] =Cashier=: to dismiss from service.

[39] =Ears bored=: this was an Eastern (Lydian) custom, which the Greeks
despised as only befitting slaves, since with them it was a mark of
servitude. Agasias intimates that Apollonidęs either had been a slave or
at least ought to be one.

[40] =Kilikia= (also spelled Cilicia): Asia Minor.

[41] =Sneeze=: any sudden, involuntary outburst, like sneezing, was
considered a sign of the divine will for good or evil. As it occurred
here just as Xenophon pronounced the auspicious word "preservation," it
was regarded as a favorable omen sent by Zeus himself. The accustomed
invocation was like the old English custom of crying "God bless you"
when one sneezed.

[42] =Pćan=: war-song, song of triumph; originally addressed to the god
Apollo.

[43] =Mysians and Pisidians=: rude tribes inhabiting mountainous
districts of Asia Minor, and maintaining their independence in spite of
the efforts of the Persian kings to subjugate them.

[44] =Lotos-eaters=: the lotos is a date-like fruit, fabled by Homer in
the "Odyssey" to be so delicious and possessed of such marvellous
properties that those who once tasted it forgot home and friends and
wished only to remain where they might continue to eat it forever. See
"Odyssey," Book IX., and compare Tennyson's poem of the "Lotos-Eaters."

[45] =Achćans=: inhabitants of Achaia, in the Peloponnesian peninsula.

[46] =Peloponnesians=: inhabitants of the Greek peninsula of the
Peloponnesus (or so-called Island of Pelops), now known as the Morea.
They were considered the best soldiers in Greece. Sparta, the rival and
enemy of Athens, was the ruling city of this district.

[47] =Athenian catastrophe=: in 415 B.C. the Athenians sent out a
powerful expedition to conquer Syracuse in Sicily. They met with a
disastrous defeat, both by land and sea, many thousands being taken
captive and sold as slaves. Alkibiadęs, an Athenian who had taken refuge
in Sparta, now urged the Spartans to attack Athens, their old rival and
enemy. His vehement eloquence was eventually successful.

[48] =Periklęs=: leader of the party of the people in Athens, and for a
long time governor of the city; he was perhaps the greatest statesman
that Greece produced.

[49] =The war=: the Peloponnesian War, 431-404 B.C. This was a desperate
struggle for supremacy between the two chief powers of Greece, Sparta
and Athens. The Spartans were a rough, military people, despising all
intellectual culture and maintaining a narrow and tyrannical form of
government from which the body of the people was wholly excluded. The
Athenians, on the contrary, wished to maintain a republic in which all
citizens should take part; they represented the highest civilization of
Greece, and were in one sense the schoolmasters of the world.

[50] =Sophists=: a class of philosophers or teachers who gave
instruction in rhetoric and the art of disputation. They went about from
city to city, and, contrary to the general custom of Greek philosophers,
took fees from their pupils. "What the Sophists, among other things
conducive to success in life, really taught the people, was the art of
conducting their own cases before the great citizen-juries, where every
man was forced to be his own advocate." [See Myers's "Outlines of
Ancient History."]

[51] =Javelin=: a light spear.

[52] =Carbines=: short muskets, or rifles.

[53] =Rhodian=: pertaining to the island of Rhodes, off the southwest
coast of Asia Minor.

[54] =Nineveh=: "an exceeding great city" (Jonah iii. 3), larger, says
Strabo, than Babylon, having walls with 1500 towers 200 feet high.
(Diodorus.)

[55] =Cuirass=: defensive armor, covering the body from the neck to the
girdle.

[56] =Sacrificed=: not only to propitiate the gods, but to obtain omens
or signs for their future guidance.

[57] =Cubit=: a measure of length; the distance from the elbow to the
end of the middle finger, or about eighteen inches.

[58] =Corselet=: armor covering the front of the upper part of the body.

[59] =Reins=: the small of the back, or the kidneys.

[60] =Burial=: the Greeks believed that so long as the corpse remained
unburied the spirit would roam about restlessly in the dreary
under-world or common abode of departed souls.

[61] =Kretan=: or Cretan (from Crete).

[62] =Augury=: omen or sign.

[63] =Libations=: wine or liquor poured out on the ground or on a victim
in honor of the gods.

[64] =Bivouac= (biv-wak'): an encampment without tents or shelter, or
one in which the whole army is on guard against surprise; here, the
former is probably meant.

[65] =Sesame=: an Eastern plant from whose seeds an oil is obtained,
which is used for food and other purposes.

[66] =Boreas=: the god of the north wind.

[67] =Demagogues=: leaders of the people, popular orators. (The word now
means those who mislead the people or who pretend to be interested in
public affairs and reforms merely to gain their own ends.) In Greece
these orators usually addressed assemblies or bodies of citizens who
acted as judges.

[68] =Judges= (dicasts): these sometimes, as in the case of the trial of
Socrates, numbered five and six hundred persons, who acted as judge and
jury combined.

[69] =Greaves=: armor for the front of the lower part of the leg.

[70] =Daric=: a Persian gold coin worth about $5.00.

[71] =Heraklęs= (Hercules): the exploits of this god in his numerous
encounters with wild beasts and robbers led to his worship on perilous
journeys.

[72] =The altar=: probably that where they had been sacrificing.

[73] Xenophon.

[74] =Mercenaries=: hired soldiers.

[75] =Milesians=: inhabitants of Miletus, Asia Minor.

[76] =Megarian=: pertaining to Megara, a district of Greece northwest of
Athens. It was famous for its commerce.

[77] =Thunny fishery=: the thunny, or tunny, a large fish abundant in
the Mediterranean and highly esteemed both for food and for the oil
which it yields.

[78] =Thurian=: an inhabitant of Thurii, a city of Lower Italy, founded
by a colony from Athens.

[79] =Odysseus=: as Homer in the "Odyssey" represents Odysseus, or
Ulysses, to have done.

[80] =Byzantium=: the modern Constantinople.

[81] =Merchant ships=: small, one-masted vessels, not larger than our
fishing-smacks.

[82] =Kerasus=: this place is the native home of the cherry, and the
origin of its name. The fruit was introduced into Italy from Kerasus
about 70 B.C., and thence to England, France, and other countries
conquered by the Romans.

[83] =Targeteers=: troops carrying a light target, or shield.

[84] =Turrets= (or small towers): the name of the
people--Mosynoeki--means the "tower-dwellers."

[85] =Paphlagonian horse=: meaning the Paphlagonian cavalry.

[86] =Hellas=: Greece.

[87] "The gods (says Euripidęs, in the Sokratic vein) have given us
wisdom to understand and appropriate to ourselves the ordinary comforts
of life: in obscure or unintelligible cases we are enabled to inform
ourselves by looking at the blaze of the fire, or by consulting prophets
who understand the livers of sacrificial victims and the flight of
birds. When they have thus furnished so excellent a provision for life,
who but spoilt children can be discontented and ask for more? Yet still
human prudence, full of self-conceit, will struggle to be more powerful,
and will presume itself to be wiser, than the gods."

It will be observed that this constant outpouring of special
revelations, through prophets, omens, &c., was (in view of these
Sokratic thinkers) an essential part of divine government; indispensable
to satisfy their ideas of the benevolence of the gods; since rational
and scientific prediction was so habitually at fault and unable to
fathom the phenomena of the future. (Grote.)

[88] =Traverse=: thwart.

[89] Though Xenophon accounted sacrifice to be an essential preliminary
to any action of dubious result, and placed great faith in the
indications which the victims offered, as signs of the future purposes
of the gods,--he nevertheless had very little confidence in the
professional prophets. He thought them quite capable of gross deceit.
(Grote.) Thus Silanus (see p. 92) pretends to find some unfavorable
indications in sacrifices which supported Xenophon.

[90] =Phasis=: on the Euxine; means the town of that name, not the
river. (Grote.)

[91] =Minć=: the Mina was about one pound by weight of silver, or $20.
Twenty minć would be therefore $400.

[92] =Pipe=: a fife or flute-like instrument.

[93] =Carpćan dance=: perhaps because one of the dancers represented a
sower of grain (from _karpos_, fruit), or possibly from _karpos_, wrist,
the wrists of one being bound.

[94] =Mysian=: from Mysia, Asia Minor.

[95] =Pyrrhic dance=: a kind of dance accompanied with every gesture of
the body used in giving and avoiding blows.

[96] This appears to have been said jocosely in reference to the Persian
King.

[97] Xenophon.

[98] =Trireme=: a war-vessel propelled by three ranks of rowers placed
one above the other.

[99] =Three thousand staters=: about $11,500; ten thousand staters would
be in round numbers about $38,000. The stater was a Greek gold coin; its
value is usually given at about $5.00, but Grote here makes it
considerably less.

[100] =Cities=: cities then were generally built with walls and gates,
so that it was easy to exclude any whom they did not wish should enter.

[101] =Philo-Laconian=: Sparta-loving (Sparta being in the district of
Laconia). Compare what is said of Xenophon on p. 41.

[102] =Byzantium=: this city (the modern Constantinople) was founded by
a Greek colony B.C. 657. It had a mixed population, and was at this time
under the rule of a Lacedćmonian or Spartan governor.

[103] =The Chersonesus= (the peninsula): a peninsula of Southern Thrace,
opposite Asia Minor, having numerous Greek cities, and noted for its
abundance of grain, much of which was exported to Athens.

[104] =Thrakion=: probably an open space or square near the Thracian
Gate of the city.

[105] =The Great King=: the King of Persia.

[106] =Delta=: so named because it resembled the Greek capital letter
Delta, [Greek: D], corresponding to the English D; hence a
triangular-shaped piece of land.

[107] =Propontis= (now, the Sea of Marmora): between Asia and Europe.

[108] =Billeted upon the citizens=: assigned them quarters among the
citizens, who were thus bound to provide for them.

[109] =Odrysian=: from Odrysć, a numerous and powerful people of Thrace.

[110] =Phliasian=: from Phliűs, a city of Peloponnesus

[111] It appears that the epithet (the Gracious) is here applied to Zeus
in the same conciliatory sense as the denomination _Eumenides_ (Well or
Kindly-disposed) to the avenging goddesses. Zeus is conceived as having
actually inflicted, or being in a disposition to inflict, evil: the
sacrifice to him under this surname represents a sentiment of fear, and
is one of atonement, expiation, or purification, destined to avert his
displeasure; but the surname itself is to be interpreted so as to
designate, not the actual disposition of Zeus (or of other gods), but
that disposition which the sacrifice is intended to bring about in him.
(Grote.)

[112] =Diasia=: a Greek festival, celebrated in honor of Zeus (Jupiter)
the Gracious.

[113] =Troad=: the plain around Troy, the scene of the famous Trojan
war, celebrated in Homer's Iliad.

[114] =Pergamus=: a city noted for its library of over 200,000
manuscript rolls, which were eventually removed to Alexandria, Egypt.
Parchment, a name derived from this place, was invented here.

[115] =Eretrian=: pertaining to Eretria, a city of Ionia, Asia Minor.

[116] =Temple of Ephesus=: sacred to the goddess Artemis, or Diana, twin
sister of Apollo. This temple ranked among the Seven Wonders of the
world. It was held so sacred that it was used as a "safe-deposit" for
treasures, which were secure here against robbery or war. See the
interesting reference to it in Acts xix. 24-41.

[117] =Sokratęs=: the philosopher and moralist, and the friend and
instructor of Xenophon, had publicly taught, in the streets of Athens,
for thirty years. His method was to convince people how little they
really knew, by asking a series of searching questions which eventually
led those whom he interrogated to confess their ignorance. "He taught
that it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong; and that the gods
wished men to know them, not by beliefs and observances, but by doing
good." This teaching, which was misunderstood by many, together with the
dislike--not to say hatred--which such a "cross-examining missionary"
would inevitably excite, caused his trial for impiety or rejection of
the popular deities. He was then over seventy. When asked whether he had
prepared his defence, he replied "that his whole life had been a
preparation, since he had spent it in studying what was right and
endeavoring to do it." Condemned by the judges to drink poison, he spent
the last hours of his life conversing with his friends on the
immortality of the soul. Xenophon has left an entertaining and valuable
sketch of his beloved master.

[118] =Banished=: Xenophon was banished for attachment to Sparta against
his country--Athens. (Grote.)

[119] =Olympic festivals=: the greatest of the religious festivals among
the Greeks. It was held at Olympia every four years in honor of Zeus
(Olympian Jove), and was celebrated by games and contests lasting
several weeks. All Greece sent delegations to attend and take part in
the festival.

[120] =Artemision=: the temple of Artemis or Diana.

[121] =Temple of Olympia=: the magnificent temple of Zeus (Olympian
Jove). It contained a colossal statue of the god, seated, and holding
the globe and the sceptre as emblems of his power. The work was by the
celebrated sculptor Phidias, and was carved in gold and ivory.

[122] =Knight=: originally one of an upper class of citizens ranking
second in point of wealth and political power.

[123] Alexander the Great encouraged his soldiers before the battle of
Issus by referring to the bravery of the Greeks in the "Retreat of the
Ten Thousand."

[124] =Anabasis= (The March Up-country): the name given by Xenophon to
his account of the expedition of Cyrus the younger in his march from the
shore of the Mediterranean against the King of Persia at Babylon. The
narrative of the "Retreat of the Ten Thousand" forms part of the
"Anabasis." Strictly speaking, this portion of the work should be called
the Katabasis, or "The March Down"; that is, from Babylonia to the Black
Sea.




SKETCH OF NAPOLEON.

(INTRODUCTORY TO THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.)


Napoleon Bonaparte was born at Ajaccio, Corsica (then recently ceded to
France), in 1769. He was of Italian descent, and up to the age of ten
could speak no French. In 1779 he was sent to the military school of
Brienne, in France, and there began his education for the army. As a
lieutenant of artillery he did good service in behalf of the French
revolutionary government at the siege of Toulon, which had revolted in
1793.

Two years later that government was threatened by the rising of the
people of Paris, headed by the National Guard. General Barras gave
Napoleon an opportunity of showing his military skill in defence of the
authorities, and the young officer, with his well-directed volleys of
grape-shot, speedily quelled the insurrection. From that time Napoleon's
name became familiar to the French people.

In 1796 he married Madame Josephine Beauharnais, a West Indian lady,
whose husband had been guillotined during the Revolution. About the same
time Napoleon received the command of the French army of Italy, and with
his successful Italian campaign against Austria his reputation as a
general began.

From that date until his final abdication in 1815, he was almost
constantly engaged in active war, or in preparations for it. During that
period of twenty years he fought nearly the whole of Europe; and up to
his fatal Russian campaign in 1812, he was victorious in every great
battle which he personally directed in the open field. This constant
success inspired him with the belief that he was invincible. As one of
his friends said, "He appeared like a man walking in a halo of glory";
and as an eminent statesman declared, "France gave herself to him,
absorbed herself in him, and seemed, at one time, no longer to think,
except through him." From a simple artillery officer Napoleon had risen
to be the greatest military commander in the world. His adopted country
had placed him at the head of the government, and ended by making him
Emperor. By his conquests he had enlarged France so that his imperial
dominions extended to the Baltic on the north, and beyond Rome on the
southeast.

To increase his glory and strengthen his power, he established a circle
of dependent thrones and principalities, occupied by his brothers and
his favorites, who were bound to obey his will and extend his sway.

Of all the nations of Europe, England alone had been able to withstand
him; and in 1812 London, Moscow, and St. Petersburg were the only
leading capitals whose streets his triumphant armies had not entered.

It was when he was at the apparent summit of his power that Napoleon
divorced his faithful Josephine, in order that he might marry the
Princess Maria Louisa, daughter of the emperor of Austria. His object
was to found a reigning family allied by blood with one of the oldest
and proudest dynasties of Europe. In this, as in all other things, he
seemed to accomplish his purpose, for from this union a son was born
who, under the title of the "King of Rome," promised to perpetuate his
father's name and power.

Having secured an heir to his crown Napoleon now determined to
rigorously carry out his "continental policy" of humbling England by
shutting out her trade from every port of Europe. If this could be done
effectually, as he believed was possible, he might hope to starve his
old enemy into submission.

The attempt to accomplish this design was the chief cause of the
campaign against Russia, and of Napoleon's ultimate downfall. The Czar,
contrary to the provisions of the treaty of Tilsit, made in 1807, was
now opposed to continuing the blockade which excluded English commerce
from the Baltic. Not only did the Russian sovereign refuse to yield on
this point, but he went so far as to form an alliance with Sweden, in
order to resist the French Emperor's demands more effectually.

Napoleon accordingly declared war, and in the spring of 1812 began
gathering a force of over 600,000 men for the invasion of Russia. The
Grand Army was chiefly French; but the Emperor compelled his
allies--Austria, Prussia, Italy, and the German States--to furnish large
numbers of troops; and he also received help from Poland. Besides the
Imperial Guard, a body of picked men over 50,000 strong, under the
command of Marshals Lefebvre, Mortier, and Bessičres, there were 13
corps. The French were led by Marshals Davoust, Oudinot, Ney, Murat,
King of Naples; the Italians by Prince Eugene; the Poles by Poniatowski;
the Austrians by General Schwartzenberg; the Germans and Prussians by
St. Cyr, Regnier, Vandamme, Victor, Macdonald, and Augereau.

The Poles fought for Napoleon in the belief that, if successful, he
would secure their independence against the power of Russian oppression;
the other nations because they dared not refuse.

This enormous force, which was double that of the Czar's, gradually
collected on the banks of the Niemen, a river emptying into the Baltic,
and forming part of the western boundary of Russia. The army crossed it
in three divisions, at a considerable distance from each other.[125] All
were to meet at Wilna, a Polish city which Russia had seized in the
dismemberment of that country, and which was about fifty miles southeast
of the Niemen.

Napoleon himself, at the head of one of the three divisions, with a
force of over two hundred thousand, crossed the river at Kowno on the
23d of June, and began his march for Wilna.[126] The weather was
intensely hot, and in the course of a few weeks many thousand men fell
out of the ranks through sickness and fatigue, and great numbers of
horses died. The French hoped to encounter the Russian forces in a
decisive battle before advancing far into the country. But it was the
policy of the Czar not to fight, but to keep falling back, destroying
all supplies as fast as he retreated, and so compelling the French to
depend wholly upon their own resources.

Napoleon himself confessed that the Russians had the advantage. They, he
said, would be animated by love of their native land to repel invasion,
and all private and public interests would unite them. The French, on
the other hand, had nothing to urge them on but the love of conquest and
of glory, without even the hope of plunder, for in those desolate
regions there was nothing they could seize.

The first real encounter was at Smolensk, a walled city on the Dnieper,
about half way between Wilna and the ancient capital of Russia. After a
day of hard fighting, the Russians fired the city and abandoned it. The
French entered the smoking ruins. They were victors, but such a victory
was almost as disheartening as a defeat. From that place a weary
seven-days march brought the Grand Army to the village of Borodino, on
the banks of the Kologa, a tributary of the Moskwa.[127] Here the
Russian general, Kutusoff, had determined to make a stand in defence of
that holy city of Moscow, not many leagues distant, for which every
peasant stood ready to lay down his life. The result of the battle was
in favor of Napoleon, but it cost him the lives of thirty thousand men
to gain it; and though the Russians lost double that number, they knew
that the time was coming when the elements and the great barren spaces
of their country would fight for them. This was the 7th of September.
From that date the Russians resumed their old tactics and continued to
slowly retreat, burning the villages and the crops as they fell back. At
length, at noon of the 14th, the French emperor came in sight of "the
city of the Czars."

What followed from that time until Napoleon, baffled and beaten, reached
Paris, leaving the wreck of the Grand Army behind him, may best be
learned from the ensuing narrative of Count Ségur,[128] who was one of
the generals in that army, an officer of the imperial staff, and an
eye-witness of what he describes.[129]

His faithful history of that terrible disaster must necessarily be
painful. It is in most respects the very opposite of Xenophon's account
of the Retreat of the Ten Thousand, which precedes it. But the reader
should reflect that the dark and sorrowful scenes of history may have
lessons as salutary as the brighter ones; and that the story of a great
failure, involving the ruin and death of thousands, may be as
instructive and as helpful as the story of a great success. In
Xenophon's case, we have the spectacle of a man of more than ordinary
ability, stimulated by difficulty and peril until he rises to real
greatness of achievement. In Napoleon's career we see a naturally "great
mind dragged to ruin by its own faults"; but such a man could not fall
alone, and it was inevitable that a multitude should suffer with him and
for him.

D. H. M.




NAPOLEON'S RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.


§ 1. Description of Moscow; arrival of the Czar.

The ancient capital of Russia, appropriately denominated by its poets
"_Moscow[130] with the gilded cupolas_," was a vast and fantastic
assemblage of two hundred and ninety-five churches, and fifteen hundred
palaces, with their gardens and dependencies. These larger mansions of
brick, and their parks, intermixed with neat houses of wood, and even
thatched cottages, were spread over several square leagues of irregular
ground. They were grouped round the Kremlin, a lofty triangular
fortress. The vast double enclosure in which this was situated was about
two miles in circuit. It contained, first, several palaces, some
churches, and rocky and uncultivated spots, and secondly, a prodigious
bazaar,--the town of the merchants and shopkeepers,--where was displayed
the collected wealth of the four quarters of the globe.

These palaces, these edifices, nay, the very shops themselves, were all
covered with burnished and painted iron. The churches, each surmounted
by a balcony and several steeples, terminating in golden balls, then the
crescent, and lastly the cross, reminded the spectator of the history of
this nation: it was Asia and its religion, at first victorious,
subsequently vanquished, so that finally the cross of Christ surmounted
the crescent of Mohammed.

A ray of sunshine caused this splendid city to glisten with a thousand
varied colors. At sight of it the traveller paused, delighted and
astonished. It reminded him of the prodigies with which the Eastern
poets had amused his childhood. On entering it, a nearer view served but
to heighten his astonishment: he recognized the nobles by the manners,
the habits, and the different languages of modern Europe, and by the
rich and airy elegance of their dress. He beheld, with surprise, the
luxury and the Asiatic form of that of the traders, the peculiar
costumes of the common people, and their long beards. He was struck by
the same variety in the edifices; and all this was tinged with a local
and sometimes harsh coloring, such as befitted the country of which
Moscow was the ancient capital.

When, lastly, he observed the grandeur and magnificence of the numerous
palaces, the wealth which they displayed, the luxury of the equipages,
the multitude of slaves and of obsequious menials, the splendor of all
these gorgeous spectacles, and heard the noise of those sumptuous
festivities, entertainments, and rejoicings which incessantly resounded
within its walls, he fancied himself transported to a city of
kings--into the midst of an assemblage of princes, who had brought with
them their manners, customs, and attendants from every quarter of the
world.

These princes were nevertheless but subjects, still opulent and powerful
subjects: grandees, vain of their ancient nobility, strong in their
collected numbers and in the general ties of blood contracted during the
seven centuries which this capital had existed. They were also landed
proprietors, proud of their vast possessions; for almost the whole
territory of the government of Moscow belonged to them, and they there
reigned over a million of serfs.[131] Finally, they were nobles, resting
with a patriotic and religious pride upon "the cradle and the tomb of
their nobility"; for such is the appellation they give to Moscow.

To this ancient capital necessity brought the Czar[132] Alexander. His
first appearance was in the midst of the assembled nobles. There
everything was great: the circumstances, the assembly, the speaker, and
the resolutions which he inspired. His voice betrayed emotion: no sooner
did he cease speaking, than one simultaneous cry burst from all hearts:
"Sire, ask what you please! we offer you everything! take our all!"

One of the nobles then proposed the levy of a militia, and for its
formation, the gift of one peasant or serf in twenty-five. But a hundred
voices interrupted him, exclaiming that "the country required a greater
sacrifice; that they should grant one serf in ten, ready armed,
equipped, and supplied with provisions for three months." This was
offering, for the single government of Moscow, 80,000 men, and a great
quantity of warlike stores.

The latter proposition was immediately voted without discussion; some
say with enthusiasm; and that it was executed in like manner, so long as
the danger was at hand. Others attribute the consent of the assembly to
a sentiment of submission alone; which, indeed, in the presence of
absolute power, is apt to absorb every other.

They add, that on the breaking up of the meeting, the principal nobles
were heard to murmur among themselves against the extravagance of such a
measure. "Was the danger, then, so pressing? Did the Russian army,
which, as they were told, still numbered 400,000 men, no longer exist?
Why deprive them of so many peasants? The service of these men would be,
it is said, only temporary; but who could ever hope for their return?
and was not even this an event to be dreaded? Would these serfs,
habituated to the irregularities of war, bring back their former habits
of submission? Undoubtedly not; they would return full of new sentiments
and new ideas, with which they would infect the villages; they would
there propagate a refractory spirit, which would give infinite trouble
to the master by spoiling the slave."

Be this as it may, the resolution of the assembly was generous, and
worthy of so great a nation. The details are of little consequence. We
well know that it is the same everywhere; that everything in the world
loses by being seen too near; and, lastly, that nations should be judged
by the general mass and by results.

Alexander then addressed the merchants, but more briefly: he ordered the
proclamation to be read to them, in which Napoleon was represented as "a
perfidious wretch; a Moloch, who, with treachery in his heart and
loyalty on his lips, was striving to blot out Russia from the face of
the earth."

It is said that, at these words, his auditors, to whose strongly-marked
and flushed faces their long beards imparted a look at once antique,
majestic, and wild, were inflamed with rage. Their eyes flashed fire;
they were seized with a convulsive fury, of which their stiffened arms,
their clenched fists, the gnashing of their teeth, and their subdued
execrations, expressed the vehemence. The effect was correspondent.
Their chief, whom they elect themselves, proved himself worthy of his
station: he put down his name at once for 50,000 rubles.[133] It was
two-thirds of his fortune, and he paid it the next day.

These merchants were divided into three classes, and they proceeded to
fix the contribution for each; but one of the assembly, who was included
in the lowest class, declared that his patriotism would brook no limit,
and he immediately subscribed a sum far surpassing the standard
proposed: the others all followed his example more or less closely.
Advantage was taken of their first emotions. Everything was at hand that
was requisite to bind them irrevocably while they were yet together,
excited by one another and by the words of their sovereign.

The patriotic donation amounted, it is said, to two millions of rubles.
The other governments repeated, like so many echoes, the national cry of
Moscow. The emperor accepted all; but all could not be given
immediately; and when, in order to complete his work, he claimed the
rest of the promised succor, he was obliged to have recourse to
constraint, the danger which had alarmed some and inflamed others having
by that time ceased to exist.


§ 2. Alarm in Moscow at the advance of the French army; preparations for
destroying the city.

After the reduction of Smolensk,[134] and when Napoleon reached Viazma,
a town about one hundred and seventy miles from Moscow, consternation
reigned in Moscow. The great battle had not yet been lost, and already
people began to abandon that capital.

In his proclamation, the governor-general, Count Rostopchin,[135] told
the women that "he should not detain them, as the less fear there was,
the less danger there would be; but that their brothers and husbands
must stay, or they would cover themselves with infamy." He then added
encouraging particulars concerning the hostile force, which consisted,
according to his statement, of "one hundred and fifty thousand men, who
were reduced to the necessity of feeding on horseflesh. The emperor
Alexander was about to return to his faithful capital; eighty-three
thousand Russians, recruits and militia, with eighty pieces of cannon
were marching towards Borodino, to join Kutusoff."[136]

He thus concluded: "If these forces are not sufficient, I will say to
you, 'Come, my Muscovite[137] friends, let us march also! We will
assemble one hundred thousand men; we will take the image of the Blessed
Virgin, and one hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, and put an end to
the business at once!'"

It has been remarked, as a purely local singularity, that most of these
proclamations were in the scriptural style, and highly poetical in their
character.

At the same time, a sort of balloon of prodigious size was constructed
by command of Alexander, not far from Moscow, under the direction of a
German artificer. The destination of this aerial machine was to hover
over the French army, to single out its chief, and destroy him by a
shower of balls and fire. Several attempts were made to raise it, but
without success, the springs by which the wings were to be worked always
breaking.

Rostopchin, nevertheless, affecting to persevere in the plan, is said to
have caused a great quantity of rockets and other combustibles to be
prepared. Moscow itself was destined to be the great infernal machine,
the sudden nocturnal explosion of which was to destroy the emperor and
his army. Should the enemy escape this danger, he would at least no
longer have an asylum or resources; and the horror of this tremendous
calamity, charged to his account, as had been the disasters of Smolensk,
Viazma, and other towns, would not fail to rouse the whole of
Russia.[138]

Adverse, therefore, to any treaty, this governor foresaw that in the
populous capital, which the Russians themselves style the oracle, the
exemplar of the whole empire, Napoleon would have recourse to the weapon
of revolution, the only one that would be left him to accomplish his
purpose. For this reason he resolved to raise a barrier of fire between
that great captain and all weaknesses, from whatever quarter they might
proceed, whether from the throne or from his countrymen, either nobles
or senators; and more especially between a population of serfs and the
soldiers of a free nation; in short, between the latter and that mass of
artisans and tradesmen who form in Moscow the commencement of an
intermediate class; a class for which the French Revolution was
especially brought about.

All the preparations were made in silence, without the knowledge either
of the people, the proprietors of all classes, or perhaps of their
emperor. The nation was ignorant that it was sacrificing itself. This is
so strictly true, that, when the moment for execution arrived, we heard
the inhabitants who had fled to the churches execrating this
destruction. Those who beheld it from a distance, the most opulent of
the nobles, deceived like their peasants, charged us with it: and, in
short, those by whom it was ordered threw the odium of it upon us,
having engaged in the work of destruction in order to render us objects
of detestation, and caring but little about the maledictions of so many
unfortunate creatures, provided they could throw upon us the weight of
them.

The silence of Alexander leaves room to doubt whether he approved this
dreadful determination or not. What part he took in the catastrophe is
still a mystery to the Russians: either they are ignorant on the
subject, or they make a secret of the matter: the effect of despotism,
which enjoins ignorance or silence.

Some think that no individual in the empire, excepting the sovereign,
would have dared to take on himself so heavy a responsibility. His
subsequent conduct disavowed without disproving it. Others are of
opinion that this was one of the causes of his absence from the army,
and that, not wishing to appear either to order or to forbid it, he
would not stay to be a witness of the catastrophe.

As to the general abandonment of the houses all the way from Smolensk,
it was compulsory, the Russian army defending them till they were
carried sword in hand, and describing us everywhere as destructive
monsters. The country suffered but little from this emigration. The
peasants residing near the high-road escaped through byways to other
villages belonging to their lords, where they found accommodation.

The forsaking of their huts, made of trunks of trees laid one upon
another, which a hatchet suffices for building, and of which a bench, a
table, and an image constitute the whole furniture, was scarcely any
sacrifice for serfs who had nothing of their own, whose persons did not
even belong to themselves, and whose masters were obliged to provide for
them, since they were their property and the source of all their income.

These peasants, moreover, in removing their carts, their implements, and
their cattle, carried everything with them, most of them being able with
their own hands to supply themselves with habitation, clothing, and all
other necessaries: for these people are still in but the first stage of
civilization, and far from that division of labor which denotes the
extension and high improvement of commerce and of society.

But in the towns, and especially in the great capital, how could they be
expected to quit so many establishments, to resign so many conveniences
and enjoyments, so much wealth, movable and immovable? and yet it cost
little or no more to obtain the total abandonment of Moscow than that of
the meanest village. There, as at Vienna, Berlin, and Madrid, the
principal nobles hesitated not to retire on our approach; for, with
them, to remain would seem to be the same as to betray. But here,
tradesmen, artisans, day-laborers, all thought it their duty to flee as
well as the most powerful of the grandees. There was no occasion to
command: these people have not yet ideas sufficient to judge for
themselves, to distinguish and to weigh differences; the example of the
nobles was sufficient. The few foreigners remaining at Moscow might have
enlightened them; some of these were exiled, and terror hindered the
rest.

It was, besides, an easy task to excite apprehensions of profanation,
pillage, and devastation in the minds of people so cut off from other
nations, and in the inhabitants of a city which had been so often
plundered and burned by the Tartars. With these examples before their
eyes, they could not await an impious and ferocious enemy but for the
purpose of fighting him: the rest must necessarily shun his approach
with horror, if they would save themselves in this life or in the next.
Thus obedience, honor, religion, fear, everything, in short, enjoined
them to flee, with all that they could carry with them.

A fortnight before our arrival, the departure of the records, the public
chests and treasure, and that of the nobles and of the principal
merchants, together with their most valuable effects, indicated to the
rest of the inhabitants what course they should pursue. The governor,
already impatient to see Moscow evacuated, appointed superintendents to
expedite the emigration.

On the 3d of September, a French woman, living in the city, ventured to
leave her hiding-place, at the risk of being torn in pieces by the
furious Muscovites. She wandered a long time through extensive quarters,
the solitude of which astonished her, when a distant and doleful sound
thrilled her with terror. It was like the funeral dirge of this vast
city: fixed in motionless suspense, she beheld an immense multitude of
persons, of both sexes, in deep affliction, carrying their effects and
their sacred images, and leading their children along with them. Their
priests, laden with the sacred symbols of religion, headed the
procession. They were invoking Heaven in hymns of lamentation, in which
all of them joined with tears.

On reaching the gates of the city, this crowd of unfortunate creatures
passed through them with painful hesitation: turning their eyes once
more towards Moscow, they seemed to be bidding a last farewell to their
holy city; but, by degrees, their sobs and the doleful tones of their
hymns died away in the vast plains by which it is surrounded.


§ 3. Departure of the Russian governor from Moscow.

Thus was this population dispersed in detail or in masses. The roads
were covered to the distance of forty leagues by fugitives on foot, and
several unbroken files of vehicles of every kind. At the same time, the
measures of Rostopchin to prevent dejection and preserve order detained
many of these unfortunate people till the very last moment.

To this must be added the appointment of Kutusoff, which had revived
their hopes, the false intelligence of a victory at Borodino, and, for
those of moderate means, the hesitation natural at the moment of
abandoning the only home which they possessed. Lastly, the inadequacy of
the means of transport, either because at this time heavy requisitions
for the exigencies of the army had reduced the number of vehicles, or
because they were too small, as it is customary to make the carriages in
this country very light, on account of the sandy soil, and of the roads,
which may be said to be rather marked out than constructed.

Kutusoff, although defeated at Borodino, had sent letters to all
quarters announcing that he was victorious. He deceived Moscow, St.
Petersburg, and even the commanders of the other Russian armies.
Alexander communicated this false intelligence to his allies. In the
first transports of his joy he hastened to the altars, loaded the army
and the family of his general with honors and money, gave directions for
rejoicings, returned thanks to Heaven, and appointed Kutusoff a
field-marshal of the empire.

Most of the Russians affirm that their emperor was grossly imposed upon
by this report. They are still unacquainted with the motives of such a
deception, which at first procured Kutusoff unbounded favors, that were
not withdrawn from him, and afterward, it is said, dreadful menaces,
that were not put in execution.

If we may credit several of his countrymen, who were perhaps his
enemies, it would appear that he had two motives. In the first place, he
wished not to shake by disastrous intelligence the little firmness
which, in Russia, Alexander was generally, though erroneously, thought
to possess. In the second, as his despatch would probably arrive on the
very birthday of his sovereign, it is added that his object was to
obtain from him the rewards for which this kind of anniversaries affords
occasion.

But at Moscow the delusive impression was of short continuance. The
rumor of the destruction of half his army was almost immediately
propagated in that city, from the singular commotion produced by
extraordinary events, which is known frequently to spread almost
instantaneously to prodigious distances. Still, however, the language of
the chiefs, the only persons who dared to speak, continued haughty and
threatening: many of the inhabitants, trusting to it, remained; but they
were every day more and more tormented by a painful anxiety. At nearly
one and the same moment, they were transported with rage, elevated by
hope, and overwhelmed with fear.

During one of these periods of dejection and dismay, while, prostrate
before the altars, or in their own houses before the images of their
saints, they had abandoned all hope but in Heaven, shouts of joy were
suddenly heard: the people instantly thronged the streets and the public
places to learn the cause. Intoxicated with delight, their eyes were
fixed on the cross of the principal church. A vulture had entangled
himself in the chains which supported it, and was held suspended by
them. This was a certain presage to minds whose natural superstition was
heightened by extraordinary anxiety: it was thus that their God would
seize and deliver Napoleon into their power.

Rostopchin took advantage of all these movements, which he excited or
checked according as they were favorable to him or otherwise. He caused
the most diminutive to be selected from the prisoners taken from the
French, and exhibited them to the people, that the latter might derive
courage from the sight of their weakness; and yet he emptied Moscow of
every kind of supplies, in order to feed the vanquished and to famish
the conquerors. This measure was easily carried into effect, as Moscow
was provisioned in spring and autumn by water only, and in winter by
sledges.

He was still attempting to preserve, with a remnant of hope, the order
that was necessary, especially in such a flight, when the effects of the
disaster at Borodino were fully manifested. The long train of wounded,
their groans, their garments and linen dyed with blood; their most
powerful nobles struck and overthrown like the rest: all this was a
novel and alarming sight to a city which had for such a length of time
been exempt from the horrors of war. The police redoubled their
activity; but the terror which they excited could not long make head
against a still greater terror.

Rostopchin once more addressed the people. He declared that "he would
defend Moscow to the last extremity; that the courts were already
closed, but that was of no consequence; that there was no occasion for
tribunals to try the guilty": he added that "in two days he would give
the signal." He recommended to the people to "arm themselves with
hatchets, and especially with three-pronged forks, as the French were
not heavier than a sheaf of wheat." As for the wounded, he said he
should cause "masses to be said, and the water to be blessed, in order
to their speedy recovery. The next day," he added, "he should repair to
Kutusoff, to take final measures for exterminating the enemy."

The Russian army, in their position in front of Moscow, numbered
ninety-one thousand men, six thousand of whom were Cossacks,[139]
sixty-five thousand veteran troops (the remnant of one hundred and
twenty-one thousand engaged at the Moskwa),[140] and twenty thousand
recruits, armed half with muskets and half with pikes.

The French army, one hundred and thirty thousand strong the day before
the great battle, had lost about forty thousand men at Borodino, and
still consisted of ninety thousand. Some regiments on the march, and the
divisions of Laborde and Pino, had just joined it: so that, on its
arrival before Moscow, it still amounted to nearly one hundred thousand
men. Its march was retarded by six hundred and seven pieces of cannon,
two thousand five hundred artillery carriages, and five thousand
baggage-wagons: it had no more ammunition than would suffice for one
engagement. Kutusoff perhaps calculated the disproportion between his
effective force and ours. On this point, however, nothing but conjecture
can be advanced, for he assigned purely military motives for his
retreat.

Thus much is certain, that Kutusoff deceived Rostopchin to the very last
moment. He even swore to him "by his gray hair that he would perish with
him before Moscow," when all at once the governor was informed that, in
a council of war held at night in the camp, it had been determined to
abandon the capital without a battle.

Rostopchin was incensed at this intelligence, but his resolution
remained unshaken. There was now no time to be lost; no farther pains
were taken to conceal from Moscow the fate that was destined for it;
indeed it was not worth while to dissemble for the sake of the few
inhabitants who were left; and, besides, it was necessary to induce them
to seek their safety in flight.

At night, therefore, emissaries went round, knocking at every door and
announcing the conflagration. Fuses were introduced at every favorable
aperture, especially into the shops covered with iron, in the
tradesmen's quarter, and the fire-engines were carried off. The
desolation had now attained its highest pitch, and each individual,
according to his disposition, was either overwhelmed with despair or
urged to a decision. Most of those who were left formed groups in the
public places; they crowded together, questioned each other, and asked
each other's advice; while many wandered about at random, some depressed
by terror, others in a frightful state of exasperation. At length the
army, their last hope, deserted them: the troops began to traverse the
city, and in their retreat they hurried along with them the still
considerable remnant of its population.

They departed by the Kolomna gate,[141] surrounded by a multitude of
women, children, and aged persons, in the deepest affliction. The fields
were covered with them. They fled in all directions, by every path,
across the country, without provisions, and laden with such of their
effects as, in their agitation, they had first laid their hands on.
Some, for want of horses, had harnessed themselves to carts, and in this
manner dragged along their infant children, a sick wife, or an infirm
father; in short, whatever they held most dear. The woods afforded them
shelter, and they subsisted on the charity of their countrymen.

On that day a terrific scene terminated this melancholy drama. This, the
last day of Moscow, having arrived, Rostopchin collected together all
whom he had been able to retain and arm. The prisons were thrown open. A
squalid and disgusting crew tumultuously issued from them. These
wretches rushed into the streets with ferocious joy. Two men, a Russian
and a Frenchman, the one accused of treason, the other of political
indiscretion, were selected from among this horde, and dragged before
Rostopchin, who fiercely reproached the Russian with his crime. He was
the son of a tradesman, and had been apprehended while exciting the
people to insurrection. A circumstance which occasioned alarm was the
discovery that he belonged to a sect of German religious and political
fanatics. His audacity had never failed him in prison. It was imagined,
for a moment, that the spirit of equality had penetrated into Russia. He
did not, however, disclose any accomplices.

At this crisis his father arrived. It was expected that he would
intercede for his son; but, on the contrary, he insisted on his death.
The governor granted him a few moments, that he might once more speak to
and bless him. "What, I! I bless a traitor!" exclaimed the enraged
Russian, and, turning to his son, with a horrid voice and gesture he
pronounced a curse upon him.

This was the signal for his execution. The poor wretch was struck down
by an ill-directed blow of a sabre. He fell, but wounded only, and
perhaps the arrival of the French might have saved him, had not the
people perceived that he was yet alive. They forced the barrier, fell
upon him, and tore him to pieces.

The Frenchman, during this scene, was petrified with terror. "As for
thee," said Rostopchin, turning towards him, "being a Frenchman, thou
canst not but wish for the arrival of the French army: be free, then,
and go and tell thy countrymen that Russia had but one traitor, and that
he has been punished." Then, addressing himself to the wretches who
surrounded him, he called them sons of Russia, and exhorted them to make
atonement for their crimes by serving their country. He was the last to
quit the doomed city, and he then rejoined the Russian army.

From that moment the mighty Moscow belonged neither to the Russians nor
to the French, but to that guilty horde whose fury was directed by a few
officers and soldiers of the police. They were organized, and each had
his post allotted to him, in order that pillage, fire, and devastation
might commence everywhere at once.


§ 4. Napoleon's first view of Moscow; the French enter the city.

That very day (September the 14th), Napoleon, being at length satisfied
that Kutusoff had not thrown himself on his right flank, rejoined his
advanced guard. He mounted his horse a few leagues from Moscow. He
marched slowly and cautiously, sending scouts before him to examine the
woods and the ravines, and to ascend all the eminences to look out for
the enemy's army. A battle was expected, and the ground favored the
opinion: works also had been begun, but they had all been abandoned, and
we experienced not the slightest resistance.

At length the last eminence only remained to be passed: it is contiguous
to Moscow, which it commands. It is called _The Hill of Salvation_,
because on its summit the inhabitants, at sight of their holy city,
cross and prostrate themselves. Our scouts soon gained the top of this
hill. It was two o'clock: the sun caused this great city to glisten with
a thousand colors. Struck with astonishment at the sight, they paused,
exclaiming, "Moscow! Moscow!" Every one quickened his pace; the troops
hurried on in disorder; and the whole army, clapping their hands,
repeated with transport, "Moscow! Moscow!" just as sailors shout "Land!
land!" at the conclusion of a long and toilsome voyage.

At the sight of this gilded city, of this splendid capital, uniting
Europe and Asia, of this magnificent emporium of the luxury and arts of
the two fairest divisions of the globe, we stood still, in proud
contemplation. What a glorious day had now arrived! It would furnish the
grandest, the most brilliant recollection of our whole lives. We felt at
this moment that all our actions would engage the attention of the
astonished world, and that every movement we made, however trivial,
would be recorded by history.

At that moment dangers and sufferings were all forgotten: was it
possible to purchase too dearly the proud felicity of being able to say
during the rest of life, "I belonged to the army of Moscow!"

Napoleon himself hastened up. He paused in transport: an exclamation of
delight escaped his lips. Ever since the great battle, the discontented
marshals had shunned him; but at the sight of captive Moscow, at the
intelligence of the arrival of a flag of truce, struck with so important
a result, and intoxicated with all the enthusiasm of glory, they forgot
their grievances. They pressed around the emperor, paying homage to his
good fortune, and already tempted to attribute to the foresight of his
genius the little pains he had taken on the 7th to complete his victory.

But in Napoleon, first emotions were of short duration. He had too much
to think of to indulge his sensations for any length of time. His first
exclamation was, "There at last is that famous city!" and the second,
"It was high time!"

His eyes fixed on this capital, already expressed nothing but
impatience: in it he beheld in imagination the whole Russian empire. Its
walls enclosed all his hopes, peace, the expenses of the war, immortal
glory: his eager looks, therefore, intently watched all its outlets.
When would its gates at length open? When should he see that deputation
come forth, which would place its wealth, its population, its senate,
and the principal of the Russian nobility at his disposal? Henceforth
that enterprise in which he had so rashly engaged, brought to a
successful termination by dint of boldness, would pass for the result of
a deep combination; his imprudence for greatness: henceforth his victory
at the Moskwa, incomplete as it was, would be deemed his greatest
achievement. Thus all that might have turned to his ruin would begin to
decide whether he was the greatest man in the world, or the most rash;
in short, whether he had raised himself an altar or dug for himself a
grave.

Anxiety, however, soon began to take possession of his mind. On his left
and right he beheld Prince Eugene and Poniatowski approaching the
hostile city; Murat, with his scouts, had already reached the entrance
of the suburbs, and yet no deputation appeared: an officer sent by
Miloradovitch[142] merely came to declare that his general would set
fire to the city if his rear was not allowed time to evacuate it.

Napoleon granted every demand. The troops of the two armies were for a
short time intermingled. Murat was recognized by the Cossacks, who, with
the familiarity of the wandering tribes, and curious and ardent as the
people of the south, thronged around him: then by their gestures and
exclamations they extolled his valor and intoxicated him with their
admiration. Murat took the watches of his officers, and distributed them
among these barbarous warriors. One of them called him his chief.

Murat was tempted to believe that among them he should find a new
Mazeppa,[143] or that he himself might become one: he imagined that he
had completely gained them over. This momentary armistice, under the
actual circumstances, sustained the hopes of Napoleon, such need had he
of self-delusion. He was amused in this way for two hours.

Meanwhile the day was declining, and Moscow continued dull, silent, and
seemingly inanimate. The anxiety of the emperor increased, and the
impatience of the soldiers could scarcely be repressed. Some officers
ventured within the walls of the city. Moscow was deserted!

At this intelligence, which he angrily refused to credit, Napoleon
ascended the Hill of Salvation, and approached the Moskwa and the
Dorogomilow gate.[144] He paused once more, but in vain, at the entrance
of that barrier. Murat pressed him to permit his soldiers to occupy the
city. "Well!" he replied, "let them enter, then, since they wish it!" He
recommended the strictest discipline: he still indulged hopes. "Perhaps
these inhabitants," he said, "do not even know how to surrender, for
here everything is new; they to us, and we to them."

Reports now began rapidly to succeed each other: they all agreed. Some
Frenchmen, residents of Moscow, ventured to quit the hiding-places which
for some days had concealed them from the fury of the populace, and
confirmed the fatal tidings. The emperor called Daru.[145] "Moscow
deserted!" he exclaimed: "what an improbable story! We must know the
truth of it. Go and bring me the boyars."[146] He imagined that those
men, stiff with pride or paralyzed by terror, remained motionless in
their houses; and he, who had hitherto been always met by the submission
of the vanquished, would encourage their confidence and anticipate their
prayers.

How, indeed, was it possible for him to persuade himself that so many
magnificent palaces, so many splendid temples, so many rich mercantile
establishments, had been forsaken by their owners, like the paltry
hamlets through which he had recently passed? Daru's mission, however,
was fruitless. Not a Muscovite was to be seen; not a particle of smoke
arose from a single chimney; not the slightest noise issued from this
vast and populous city: its three hundred thousand inhabitants seemed to
be struck dumb and motionless by enchantment: it was the silence of the
desert!

But such was the incredulity of Napoleon that he was not yet convinced,
and waited for further information. At length an officer, wishing to
gratify him, or persuaded that whatever he willed must necessarily be
accomplished, entered the city, seized five or six vagabonds, drove them
before his horse to the emperor, and presented them to him as a
deputation. From the first words they uttered, however, Napoleon
detected the imposture, and perceived that they were only poor laborers.

It was not till then that he ceased to doubt the entire evacuation of
Moscow, and gave up all the hopes that he had built upon it. He shrugged
his shoulders, and with that contemptuous look with which he met
everything that crossed his wishes, he exclaimed, "Ah! the Russians do
not know yet the effect which the taking of their capital will produce
upon them!"

It was now an hour since Murat and the long and close column of his
cavalry had entered Moscow: they penetrated to the centre of that
gigantic body, as yet untouched, but inanimate. Struck with profound
astonishment at finding a solitude so complete, they replied to the
stillness of this modern Thebes by a silence equally solemn. These
warriors listened, with a secret shuddering, to the sound of their
horses' steps among these deserted palaces. They were amazed to hear
nothing but the noise they themselves made amid such numerous
habitations. No one thought of stopping or of plundering, either from
prudence, or because highly civilized nations respect themselves in
enemies' capitals.

Meanwhile they were silently observing this mighty city, which would
have been truly remarkable had they met with it in a flourishing and
populous country, but which was here in these deserts still more
astonishing. It was like a rich and beautiful oasis. They had at first
been struck by the sudden view of so many magnificent palaces, but they
now perceived that they were intermingled with mean cottages: a
circumstance which indicated the want of gradation among the classes,
and that luxury had not been generated there, as in other countries, by
industry, but had preceded it; whereas, in the natural order, it ought
to be more or less its proper consequence.

Amid these reflections, which were favored by the slowness of our march,
the report of firearms was all at once heard: the column halted. Its
last horses were still crossing the fields; its centre was in one of
the longest streets of the city; its head had reached the Kremlin. The
gates of that citadel appeared to be closed; ferocious cries issued from
within it; men and women, of savage and disgusting aspect, appeared
fully armed upon its walls. In a state of drunken fury, they uttered the
most horrible imprecations. Murat sent them amicable proposals, but to
no purpose. It was found necessary to employ cannon to break open the
gate.

We penetrated, partly without opposition, partly by force, among these
wretches. One of them rushed close to Murat and endeavored to kill one
of his officers. It was thought sufficient to disarm him; but he again
fell upon his victim, threw him to the ground, and attempted to
suffocate him; and even after his arms were seized and held, he strove
to tear him with his teeth. These were the only Muscovites who had
waited our coming! and who seemed to have been left behind as a savage
and frightful emblem of the national hatred.

It was easy to perceive, however, that there was no unison in this
patriotic fury. Five hundred recruits, who had been forgotten in the
Kremlin, took no part in this scene: at the first summons they
dispersed; and farther on we overtook a convoy of provisions, the escort
of which immediately threw down its arms. Several thousand stragglers
and deserters from the enemy voluntarily remained in the power of our
advance guard. The latter left to the corps which followed the task of
picking them up; these, again, to others, and so on; and thus they
remained at liberty in the midst of us, till the conflagration and
pillage of the city reminding them of their duty, and rallying in them
one general feeling of antipathy, they went and rejoined Kutusoff.

Murat, who had been stopped but a few moments by the Kremlin, dispersed
this despicable crew. Ardent and indefatigable as in Italy and Egypt,
after a march of twenty-seven hundred miles, and sixty battles fought to
reach Moscow, he traversed that proud city without deigning to halt in
it, and pursuing the Russian rear guard, he boldly and without
hesitation took the road for Vladimir and Asia.

Several thousand Cossacks, with four pieces of cannon, were retreating
in that direction: the armistice was at an end; and Murat, tired of this
peace of half a day, immediately ordered it to be broken by a discharge
of carbines. But our cavalry considered the war as finished; Moscow
appeared to them to be the goal of it; and the advanced posts of the two
empires seemed unwilling to renew hostilities. A fresh order arrived,
but the same hesitation prevailed. At length Murat, incensed at this
disobedience, gave his commands in person; and the firing, with which he
seemed to threaten Asia, but which was not destined to cease till we had
retreated to the banks of the Seine, was renewed.


§ 5. Napoleon takes up his quarters in the Kremlin; the city discovered
to be on fire.

Napoleon did not enter Moscow till after dark. He stopped in one of the
first houses of the Dorogomilow suburb. There he appointed Marshal
Mortier governor of that capital. "Above all," he said to him, "no
pillage. For this you shall be answerable to me with your life. Defend
Moscow against all, whether friend or foe."

That was a gloomy night: sinister reports rapidly followed each other.
Some Frenchmen, resident in the country, and even a Russian officer of
police, came to give intelligence respecting the conflagration. He
related all the particulars of the preparations that had been made for
it. The emperor, alarmed by these accounts, strove in vain to compose
himself to rest. He called every moment, and fatal tidings were repeated
to him. Still he persisted in his incredulity till about two in the
morning, when news was brought to him that the fire had actually broken
out.

It was at the Exchange, in the centre of the city, in its richest
quarter. Instantly he issued orders upon orders. As soon as it was
light, he himself hastened to the spot and threatened the Young Guard
and Mortier. The marshal pointed out to him some houses covered with
iron; they were closely shut up, still untouched and uninjured without,
and yet a black smoke was already issuing from them. Napoleon dejectedly
entered the Kremlin.

At the sight of this half-Gothic, half-modern palace of the Ruricks and
the Romanoffs, of their throne still standing, of the cross of the great
Ivan, and of the finest part of the city, which is overlooked by the
Kremlin, and which the flames, as yet confined to the bazaar, seemed
disposed to spare, his former hopes revived. His ambition was flattered
by this great conquest. "At length, then," he exclaimed, "I am in
Moscow, in the ancient palace of the Czars, in the Kremlin!" He examined
every part of it with pride, curiosity, and gratification.

He required a statement of the resources of the city; and, in this brief
moment given to hope, sent proposals of peace to the Emperor Alexander.
A superior officer of the enemy had just been found in the great
hospital: he was charged with the delivery of this letter. It was by
the baleful light of the flames of the bazaar that Napoleon finished
it, and the Russian departed. He was to be the bearer of the news of the
disaster to his sovereign, whose only answer was the conflagration of
his capital.

Daylight favored the efforts of the Duke of Treviso to subdue the
flames. The incendiaries kept themselves concealed. Doubts even were
entertained of their existence. At length, strict injunctions being
issued, order restored, and alarm for a moment suspended, each took
possession of a commodious house or sumptuous palace, under the idea of
finding comforts that had been dearly purchased by long and excessive
privations.

Two officers had taken up their quarters in one of the buildings of the
Kremlin. The view from thence embraced the north and west of the city.
About midnight they were awakened by an extraordinary light. They looked
out and beheld palaces filled with flames, which at first merely
illuminated, but ere long totally consumed these superb and noble
structures. They observed that the north wind drove these flames
directly towards the Kremlin, and they became alarmed for the safety of
that fortress, in which the flower of their army and its commander
reposed. They were apprehensive also for the surrounding houses, where
our soldiers, attendants, and horses, weary and exhausted, were
doubtless buried in profound sleep. Sparks and burning fragments were
already flying over the roofs of the Kremlin, when the wind, shifting
from north to west, blew them in another direction.

One of these officers, relieved from apprehension respecting his own
corps, then composed himself again to sleep, exclaiming, "Let others
look to it; 'tis no affair of ours"; for such was the unconcern
produced by the multiplicity of events and misfortunes, such the
selfishness arising from excessive suffering and fatigue, that they left
to each only just strength and feeling sufficient for his personal
service and preservation.

But it was not long before fresh and more vivid lights again awoke them.
They beheld other flames rising in the direction which the wind had
again taken towards the Kremlin, and they cursed French imprudence and
want of discipline, to which they imputed this disaster. Three times did
the wind thus change from west to north, and three times did these
hostile fires, as if obstinately bent on the destruction of the imperial
quarters, appear eager to follow its course.

At this sight a strong suspicion seized their minds. Could the
Muscovites, aware of our rash and thoughtless negligence, have conceived
the hope of burning, with Moscow, our soldiers, heavy with wine,
fatigue, and sleep; or, rather, had they dared to imagine that they
should involve Napoleon in this catastrophe, believing that the loss of
such a man would be a full equivalent for that of their capital; that it
was a result of sufficient importance to justify the sacrifice of all
Moscow to obtain it; that Heaven, perhaps, in order to grant them so
signal a triumph, had decreed so great a sacrifice?

Whether this was actually their plan we cannot tell; but nothing less
than the emperor's good fortune was required to prevent its being
realized. In fact, not only did the Kremlin contain, unknown to us, a
magazine of powder, but that very night, the guards, asleep and
carelessly posted, suffered a whole park of artillery to enter and draw
up under the windows of Napoleon.

It was at this moment that the flames were driven from all quarters,
with the greatest violence, towards the Kremlin; for the wind, drawn
towards this vast conflagration, increased every moment in strength. The
flower of the army and the emperor himself would have been destroyed, if
but one of the brands that flew over our heads had alighted on one of
the powder-wagons. Thus upon a single spark out of the multitudes that
were for several hours floating in the air, depended the fate of the
whole army.

At length the day, a dismal day it was, appeared; it came only to add to
the horrors of the scene, and to take from it all its brilliancy. Many
of the officers sought refuge in the halls of the palace. The chiefs,
and Mortier himself, who had been contending for thirty-six hours
against the fire, there dropped down from fatigue, and in despair.

They said nothing, and we accused ourselves. Most of us supposed that
want of discipline on the part of our troops and drunkenness had begun
the disaster, and that the high wind had completed it. We viewed
ourselves with feelings of disgust. The cry of horror which all Europe
would not fail to set up, terrified us. Filled with consternation at so
tremendous a catastrophe, we accosted each other with downcast looks. We
were roused only by our eagerness to obtain intelligence; and every
account now began to accuse the Russians alone of the disaster.

In fact, officers arrived from all quarters, and they all agreed on this
point. The very first night, that of the 14th, a fire-balloon had
settled on the palace of Prince Trubetskoi, and consumed it: this had
been the signal. Fire was now immediately set to the Exchange; and
Russian police soldiers had been seen stirring it up with tarred lances.
In some places, shells, perfidiously placed in the stoves of the
houses, had exploded and wounded the military who crowded around them.
Retiring to other quarters still standing, they sought there for fresh
retreats; but when on the point of entering houses that were closely
shut up and uninhabited, they had heard faint explosions within; these
were succeeded by a light smoke, which immediately became thick and
black, then reddish, lastly fire was seen, and presently the whole
edifice was involved in flames.

All had seen hideous-looking men, covered with rags, and women
resembling furies, wandering among these flames. These wretches,
intoxicated with wine and with the success of their crimes, no longer
took any pains to conceal themselves: they proceeded in triumph through
the blazing streets; they were caught, armed with torches, striving to
spread the conflagration; and it was necessary to strike down their
hands with sabres to oblige them to loose their hold. It was said that
these banditti had been let loose from the prisons by the Russian
generals for the express purpose of burning the city; and that, in fact,
a resolution so extreme could only have been conceived by patriotism,
and executed by guilt.

Orders were immediately issued to shoot all the incendiaries on the
spot. The army was on foot. The Old Guard, which exclusively occupied
one part of the Kremlin, was under arms: the baggage, and the horses
ready loaded, filled the courts; we were struck dumb with astonishment,
surprise, and disappointment at witnessing the destruction of such
admirable quarters. Though masters of Moscow, we were forced to go and
bivouac,[147] without provisions, outside its gates.

While our troops were yet struggling with the conflagration, and
disputing their prey with the flames, Napoleon, whose sleep none had
dared to disturb during the night, was awakened by the twofold light of
day and of the burning city. His first feeling was that of irritation,
and he would have stayed the devouring element by the breath of his
command; but he soon paused, and yielded to impossibility. Surprised
that when he had struck at the heart of an empire he should find there
any other sentiment than that of abject submission, he felt himself
vanquished, and surpassed in heroic determination.

This conquest, for which he had sacrificed everything, was like a
phantom which he had eagerly pursued, and, at the moment when he
imagined he had grasped it, he saw it vanish from him in a mingled mass
of smoke and flame. He was then seized with extreme agitation: he
seemed, as it were, consumed by the fires which were around him. He rose
every moment from his seat, paced to and fro, and again sat abruptly
down. He traversed his apartments with hurried steps: his sudden and
vehement gestures betrayed a painful uneasiness; he quitted, resumed,
and again as suddenly abandoned an urgent occupation, to hasten to the
windows and watch the progress of the flames. Short and incoherent
exclamations burst from his laboring bosom! "What a tremendous
spectacle! It is their own work! So many palaces! What extraordinary
resolution! What men! These are indeed Scythians!"[148]

Between the fire and his quarters there was an extensive vacant space,
then the Moskwa and its two quays; and yet the panes of the windows
against which he leaned felt already burning to the touch, and the
constant exertions of sweepers, placed on the iron roofs of the palace,
were not sufficient to keep them clear of the numerous flakes of fire
which were continually lighting upon them.

At this moment a rumor was spread that the Kremlin had been mined; and
the fact, it was said, was confirmed later by the declarations of the
Russians, and by written documents. Some of his attendants were beside
themselves with fear, while the military awaited unmoved what the orders
of the emperor and fate should decree; but he replied to their alarm
only with a smile of incredulity.

Still, he continued to walk about in the utmost agitation: he stopped at
every window, to gaze on the terrible, the victorious element that was
furiously consuming his brilliant conquest; seizing on all the bridges,
on all the avenues to his fortress, enclosing, and, as it were,
besieging him in it; spreading every moment wider and wider; constantly
reducing him within narrower limits, and confining him at length to the
site of the Kremlin alone.

We breathed already nothing but smoke and ashes: night approached, and
was about to add darkness to our other dangers; while the equinoctial
gales, as if in alliance with the Russians, increased in violence. Then
Murat and Prince Eugene hastened to the emperor's quarters: in company
with the Prince of Neufchâtel they made their way to him, and urged him
by their entreaties, and on their knees, to remove from this scene of
desolation. All was in vain.

Master, after so many sacrifices, of the palace of the Czars, he was
bent on not yielding that conquest even to the conflagration, when all
at once the shout of "the Kremlin is on fire!" passed from mouth to
mouth, and roused us from the contemplative stupor into which we had
been plunged. The emperor went out to ascertain the danger. Twice had
the fire communicated to the building in which he was and twice had it
been extinguished; but the tower of the arsenal was still burning. A
soldier of the police had been found in it. He was brought in, and
Napoleon caused him to be interrogated in his presence. This man was the
incendiary; he had executed his commission at the signal given by his
chief. It was now evident that everything was devoted to destruction,
the ancient and sacred Kremlin not excepted.

The gestures of the emperor bespoke disdain and vexation: the wretch was
hurried into the first court, and there the enraged soldiers despatched
him with their bayonets.


§ 6. The fire compels Napoleon to leave the city.

This occurrence decided Napoleon. He hastily descended the northern
staircase, famous for the massacre of the Strelitzes,[149] and requested
to be conducted out of the city, to the distance of a league on the road
to St. Petersburg, towards the imperial palace of Petrowski.

But we were besieged by an ocean of fire, which blocked up all the gates
of the citadel, and frustrated our first attempts to escape. After some
search, we discovered a postern-gate[150] leading between the rocks to
the Moskwa. It was by this narrow pass that Napoleon, his officers and
guard, made their way from the Kremlin. But what had they gained by this
movement? They had approached nearer to the fire, and could neither
retreat nor remain where they were; and how were they to advance? how
force a passage through the billows of this sea of flame? Those who had
traversed the city, stunned by the tempest and blinded by the ashes,
could no longer find their way, since the streets themselves were not
distinguishable amid smoke and ruins.

There was no time to be lost. The roaring of the flames around us became
every moment more terrific. A single narrow winding street, completely
enveloped in fire on either side, appeared rather the entrance than the
outlet of this hell. The emperor, however, on foot, and without
hesitation, rushed into this frightful passage. He advanced amid the
crackling of the flames, the crash of floors, and the fall of burning
timbers, and of fragments of red-hot iron roofs which tumbled around
him. These ruins impeded his progress. The flames, while with impetuous
roar they consumed the edifices between which we were proceeding,
spreading beyond the walls, were blown out by the wind, and formed an
arch over our heads. We walked on a ground of fire, beneath a fiery
canopy and between two walls of fire. The intense heat burned our eyes,
which we were nevertheless obliged to keep open and fixed on the danger.
A consuming atmosphere parched our throats, and rendered our respiration
short and difficult; and we were already almost suffocated by the smoke.
Our hands were burned, either in endeavoring to protect our faces from
the insupportable heat, or in brushing off the sparks which every moment
fell upon our garments. In this inexpressible distress, and when a rapid
advance seemed to be our only means of safety, our guide stopped in
uncertainty and agitation. Here probably would have terminated our
adventurous career, had not some pillagers of the first corps recognized
the emperor amid the whirling flames: they ran up and guided him towards
the smoking ruins of a quarter which had been reduced to ashes in the
morning.

It was there that we met the Prince of Eckmühl. This marshal, who had
been wounded at the Moskwa, had desired to be carried back among the
flames to rescue Napoleon, or to perish with him. He threw himself into
his arms with transport; the emperor received him kindly, but with that
composure which in danger he never lost for a moment.

To escape from this vast region of desolation, it was farther necessary
to pass a long convoy of powder which was defiling amid the fire. This
was not the least of his dangers, but it was the last, and by nightfall
he arrived at Petrowski.

The next morning, the 17th of September, Napoleon cast his first look
towards Moscow, hoping to see that the conflagration had subsided. But
he beheld it again raging with the utmost violence: the city appeared
like one vast column of fire, rising in whirling eddies to the sky,
which it deeply colored. Absorbed by this melancholy contemplation, he
maintained a long and gloomy silence, which he broke only by the
exclamation, "This forebodes to us great misfortunes!"

The effort which he had made to reach Moscow had expended all his means
of warfare. Moscow had been the limit of his projects, the aim of all
his hopes, and Moscow was no more! What was now to be done? Here this
decisive genius was forced to hesitate. He who in 1805 had ordered the
sudden and total abandonment of the expedition prepared at an immense
expense, for the invasion of England; and determined at Boulogne on the
surprise and annihilation of the Austrian army, in short, on all the
operations of the campaign between Ulm and Munich exactly as they were
executed; this same man, who in the following year dictated at Paris
with like infallibility all the movements of his army as far as Berlin,
the day of his entrance into that capital, and the appointment of the
governor whom he destined for it; he it was who, astonished in his turn,
was now in perplexity what course to pursue. Never had he communicated
his most daring projects to the most confidential of his ministers but
in order for their execution; he was now, however, constrained to
consult and put to the proof those who were around him.

But, in doing this, he still preserved the same show of confidence and
of determination. He declared that he would march for St. Petersburg.
This conquest was already marked out on his maps, hitherto so prophetic:
orders were even issued to the different corps to hold themselves in
readiness. But this was all only a feint: it was but a better face that
he strove to assume, or an expedient for diverting his grief at the loss
of Moscow; so that Berthier, and more especially Bessičres, soon
convinced him that he had neither time, provisions, roads, nor a single
requisite for so distant an expedition.

At this moment he was apprised that Kutusoff, after having fled towards
the east, had suddenly turned to the south, and thrown himself between
Moscow and Kaluga. This was an additional circumstance against the
expedition to St. Petersburg. There was a threefold reason for marching
upon the beaten army, and endeavoring to extinguish it: to secure his
right flank and his line of operation; to possess himself of Kaluga and
of Tula, the one the granary, the other the arsenal of Russia; and,
lastly, to open safe, short, new, and untouched retreat to Smolensk and
Lithuania.[151]

Some one proposed to return upon Wittgenstein and Witepsk.[152]
Napoleon, however, remained undecided between these different plans.
That for the conquest of St. Petersburg alone flattered him: the others
appeared but as ways of retreat, as acknowledgments of error; and
whether from pride, or policy which would not admit itself to be in the
wrong, he rejected them.

Besides, where was he to halt in case of a retreat? He had so fully
calculated on concluding a peace at Moscow, that he had no
winter-quarters provided in Lithuania. Kaluga had no temptations for
him. Wherefore lay waste fresh provinces? It would be wiser only to
threaten them, and thus leave the Russians something to lose, in order
to induce them to conclude a peace by which they might be preserved.
Would it be possible to march to another battle, to fresh conquests,
without exposing a line of operation covered with sick, stragglers,
wounded, and convoys of all sorts? Moscow was the general rallying
point: how could it be changed? What other name would have any
attraction?

Lastly, and above all, how could he relinquish a hope to which he had
made so many sacrifices, when he knew that his letter to Alexander had
just passed the Russian advanced posts; when eight days would be
sufficient for receiving an answer, so ardently desired; when he
required that time to rally and reorganize his army, to collect the
relics of Moscow, the conflagration of which had but too strongly
sanctioned pillage, and to draw his soldiers away from that vast
infirmary.

Meanwhile, scarcely a third of that army and of that capital now
existed. But himself and the Kremlin were still standing: his renown was
still entire, and he persuaded himself that those two great names,
Napoleon and Moscow, combined, would be sufficient to accomplish
everything. He determined, therefore, to return to the Kremlin, which a
battalion of his guard had unfortunately preserved.


§ 7. Napoleon returns to the Kremlin; plunder of the city.

The camps which he traversed on his way thither presented an
extraordinary sight. In the fields, in the midst of the mud, were large
fires, kept up with mahogany furniture, windows and gilded doors. Around
these fires, on litters of damp straw, imperfectly sheltered by a few
boards, were seen the soldiers and their officers, splashed all over
with mud, and blackened with smoke, seated in arm-chairs or reclining on
silken couches. At their feet were spread, or heaped together, Cashmere
shawls, the rarest furs of Siberia, the gold stuffs of Persia, and
silver dishes, off which they had nothing to eat but black dough baked
in the ashes, and half broiled and bloody horseflesh. Strange
combination of abundance and want, of riches and filth, of luxury and
wretchedness!

Between the camp and the city were met troops of soldiers dragging along
their booty, or driving before them, like beasts of burden, Muscovites
bending under the weight of the pillage of their capital: for the fire
brought to light nearly twenty thousand inhabitants, previously
concealed in that immense city. Some of these, of both sexes, were well
dressed: they were tradespeople. They came with the wreck of their
property, to seek refuge at our fires. They lived pell-mell with our
soldiers, protected by some, and tolerated, or, rather, scarcely
remarked by others.

About ten thousand of the enemy's troops were in the same predicament.
For several days they wandered about among us, free, and some of them
even still armed. Our soldiers met these vanquished Russians without the
slightest animosity, and without thinking of making them prisoners;
either that they considered the war at an end, or from thoughtlessness
or pity, or because, when not in battle, the French delight in having no
enemies. They suffered them to share their fires; nay, more, they
allowed them to pillage in their company. But when some degree of order
was restored, or, rather, when the officers had organized this marauding
as a regular system of forage, the great number of these Russian
stragglers attracted notice, and orders were given to secure them; but
seven or eight thousand had already escaped. It was not long before we
had to fight them.

On entering the city the emperor was struck by a sight still more
extraordinary: a few houses scattered here and there among the ruins
were all that was left of the mighty Moscow. The smell issuing from this
vast city, overthrown, burned, and calcined, was horrible. Heaps of
ashes, and, at intervals, fragments of walls or half-demolished pillars,
were now the only vestiges that marked the sites of streets.

In the suburbs were found a few Russians of both sexes, covered with
garments scorched and blackened by the fire. They flitted like spectres
among the ruins; some of them were scratching up the earth in gardens in
quest of vegetables, while others were disputing with the crows for the
relics of the dead animals which their army had left behind. Farther on,
others again were seen plunging into the Moskwa to bring out some of the
grain which had been thrown into it by command of Rostopchin, and which
they devoured without preparation, soured and spoiled as it was.

Meanwhile the sight of the booty in the camps, where everything was yet
wanting, inflamed the soldiers, whom a sense of duty or stricter
officers had hitherto kept with their colors. They murmured. "Why were
they to be kept back? Why were they to perish by famine and want, when
everything was within their reach? Was it right to allow the enemy's
fires to destroy what might be saved? Why was such respect to be paid to
the conflagration?" They added, that "as the inhabitants of Moscow had
not only abandoned, but even endeavored utterly to destroy it, all that
they could save would be fairly gained; that the remains of that city,
like the arms of the conquered, belonged by right to the victors, as the
Muscovites had turned their capital into a vast machine of war for the
purpose of annihilating us."

The best principled, and the best disciplined were those who argued
thus, and it was impossible to reply satisfactorily to them. Exaggerated
scruples, however, at first preventing the issuing of orders for
pillage, it was permitted, unrestrained by regulations. Then it was,
urged by the most imperious wants, that all hurried to share the spoil,
soldiers of the highest class, and even officers. Their chiefs were
obliged to shut their eyes: only such guards as were absolutely
indispensable remained with the colors and the piled arms.

The emperor saw his whole army dispersed over the city. His progress was
obstructed by long files of marauders going in quest of booty or
returning with it; by tumultuous assemblages of soldiers grouped around
the entrances of cellars, or the doors of palaces, shops, and churches,
which the fire had nearly reached, and which they were endeavoring to
break into.

His steps were impeded by the fragments of furniture of every kind which
had been thrown out of the windows to save them from the flames, or by
rich pillage which had been abandoned from caprice for other booty, for
such is the way with soldiers; they are incessantly beginning their
fortunes afresh, taking everything indiscriminately, loading themselves
beyond measure, as if they could carry all that they find; then, after
they have gone a few steps, compelled by fatigue to throw away
successively the greatest part of their burden.

The roads were obstructed by these accumulations; and the open places,
like the camp, were turned into markets, whither every one repaired to
exchange superfluities for necessaries. There the rarest articles, the
value of which was not known to their possessors, were sold for the
merest pittance; while others of little worth, but more showy
appearance, were purchased at the most exorbitant prices. Gold, from
being most portable, was bought at an immense loss with silver that the
knapsacks were incapable of holding. Everywhere soldiers were seen
seated on bales of merchandise, on heaps of sugar and coffee, amid
wines and the most exquisite liquors, all of which they were offering
in exchange for a morsel of bread. Many, in a state of intoxication
aggravated by hunger, had fallen near the flames, which, reaching them,
put a miserable end to their lives.

The houses and palaces which had escaped the fire served as quarters for
the officers, who respected whatever was found in them. They beheld with
pain this vast destruction, and the pillage which was its necessary
consequence. Some of our best men were reproached with being too greedy
in collecting whatever they could rescue from the flames; but their
number was so small that they were all mentioned by name. In these
ardent men war was a passion which presupposed the existence of many
others. It was not covetousness, for they did not hoard; they spent
lavishly what they had thus picked up, taking in order to give,
believing that one hand washed the other, and that they paid for
everything with the danger they encountered in acquiring it.

It was amid this confusion that Napoleon again entered Moscow. He had
allowed the pillage, hoping that his army, scattered over the ruins,
would find much that was valuable; but when he learned that the disorder
increased; that the Old Guard[153] itself had yielded to the temptation;
that the Russian peasants, who were at length allured thither with
provisions, for which he caused them to be liberally paid, that they
might induce others to come, were robbed of what they brought to us by
our famished soldiers; when he was informed that the different corps,
destitute of everything, were ready to fight each other for the relics
of Moscow; that, finally, all our existing resources were wasted by this
lawless freebooting, he then issued severe orders, and forbade his guard
to leave their quarters. The churches in which our cavalry had sheltered
themselves, were evacuated, and restored to their religious uses.[154]
The business of plunder was ordered to be taken in turn by the different
corps, like any other duty, and directions were at length given for
securing the Russian stragglers.

But it was too late. These soldiers had fled; the affrighted peasants
returned no more; and great quantities of provisions were wasted. The
French army have sometimes fallen into these faults, but on the present
occasion the fire must plead their excuse; no time was to be lost in
anticipating the flames. It is, however, a remarkable fact, that at the
first command of the emperor perfect order was restored.

Most of our men behaved generously, considering the small number of
inhabitants who remained, and the great number of enemies they met with.
But if, in the first moments of pillage, some excesses were perpetrated,
ought this to appear surprising in an army exasperated by such urgent
wants, such severe sufferings, and composed of so many different
nations?

Misfortunes having since overwhelmed these warriors, reproaches, as in
such circumstances is ever the case, have been raised against them. Who
can be ignorant that similar disorders have always been the bad side of
great wars, or, so to speak, the inglorious part of glory; that the
renown of conquerors casts its shadow like everything else in this
world? Does there exist a creature however diminutive, on every side of
which the sun can shine at once? It is a law of nature, therefore, that
great bodies shall cast great shadows.


§ 8. Rostopchin sets fire to his country-seat; anxiety of Napoleon at
not hearing from the Czar.

Meanwhile Kutusoff, on leaving Moscow, had drawn Murat towards Kolomna,
the point where the Moskwa intersects the road. Here, under favor of the
night, he suddenly turned to the south, proceeding by the way of Podol,
to throw himself between Moscow and Kaluga. This night march of the
Russians around Moscow, the ashes and flames of which were wafted to
them by the violence of the wind, was gloomy in the extreme. They were
lighted on their march by the baleful conflagration which was consuming
the centre of their commerce, the sanctuary of their religion, the
cradle of their empire! Filled with horror and indignation, they kept a
sullen silence, which was unbroken save by the dull and monotonous sound
of their footsteps, the roaring of the flames, and the howling of the
blast. The dismal light was frequently varied by livid and sudden
flashes. The brows of these warriors might then be seen contracted by
intense and unutterable grief, and the fire of their sombre and
threatening looks answered to these flames, which they regarded as our
work; they already betrayed the ferocious revenge which was rankling in
their hearts, which spread throughout the empire, and of which so many
Frenchmen were the victims.

At that solemn moment, Kutusoff, in a firm and impressive tone,
addressed his sovereign, and informed him of the loss of his capital. He
stated that, "in order to save the fertile provinces of the south, and
to keep up his communications with Tormasoff and Tchitchakoff, he had
been obliged to abandon Moscow, but emptied of its inhabitants, who were
its life; and," said he, "as the people are the soul of every country,
so where the Russian people are, there will be Moscow and the empire of
Russia."

It is said that on receiving this intelligence Alexander was
thunderstruck. Napoleon, it was known, built hopes on the weakness of
his rival, and the Russians themselves dreaded the effects of that
weakness. But the Czar disappointed as well these hopes as fears. In his
addresses to his subjects he exhibited himself no less great than his
misfortune: "No pusillanimous dejection!" he exclaimed; "let us vow
redoubled courage and perseverance! The enemy is in deserted Moscow as
in a tomb, without means of domination or even of existence. He entered
Russia with three hundred thousand men of all countries, without union
or any national or religious bond: he has already lost half of them by
the sword, by famine, and by desertion: he has but the wreck of this
army in Moscow: he is in the heart of Russia, and not a single Russian
is at his feet.

"Meanwhile our forces are increasing and closing around him. He is in
the midst of a mighty population, encompassed by armies which are
waiting his movements and keeping him in check. To escape from famine,
he will soon be obliged to direct his flight through the ranks of our
brave soldiers. Shall we then recede, when all Europe is looking on and
encouraging us? Let us, on the contrary, set it an example, and kiss
the hand which has thus led us forth to be the first among the nations
to vindicate the cause of independence and virtue." He concluded with an
invocation to the Almighty.

This circuitous march of Kutusoff, whether made from indecision or as a
stratagem, was much in his favor. Murat lost all traces of him for three
days. The Russian general employed all this interval in studying the
ground and in intrenching himself. His advanced guard had nearly reached
Woronowo, one of the finest domains belonging to Count Rostopchin, when
that nobleman proceeded on before it. The Russians supposed that he had
gone to take a last look at this splendid mansion, when all at once it
was wrapped from their sight by clouds of smoke.

They hurried on to extinguish the fire, but Rostopchin himself repelled
their aid. They beheld him, amid the flames which he was encouraging,
smiling at the demolition of this magnificent edifice, and then with a
firm hand penning these words, which the French, shuddering with
astonishment, afterwards read on the iron gate of a church which was
left standing: "For eight years I have been embellishing this
country-seat, where I have lived happily in the bosom of my family. The
inhabitants of this estate, to the number of 1720, leave it on your
approach, while I have set fire to my house, that it may not be polluted
by your presence. Frenchmen, I have relinquished to you my two houses at
Moscow, with their furniture, worth half a million of rubles. Here you
will find nothing but ashes!"

It was near this place that Murat came up with Kutusoff. On the 29th of
September there was a smart engagement of cavalry and another on the 4th
of October. Murat fought till nightfall, and repulsed the Russian
force.

Meanwhile, the conflagration at Moscow, which commenced in the night of
the 14th of September, suspended through our exertions during the day of
the 15th, revived the following night, and, raging with the utmost
violence on the 16th, 17th, and 18th, abated on the 19th: it ceased
altogether on the 20th, and on that day Napoleon returned to the
Kremlin. To this point he attracted the looks of all Europe. There he
awaited his convoys, his re-enforcements, and the stragglers of his
army; certain that his soldiers would all be rallied by his victory, by
the allurements of a rich booty, by the imposing sight of captive
Moscow, and, above all, by his own glory, which, from the summit of this
immense pile of ruins, still shone attractive like a beacon upon a rock.

Twice, however, on the 22d and 28th of September, letters from Murat had
wellnigh drawn him from this fatal abode. They announced a battle; and
twice the orders for departure were written, and then burned. It seemed
as though the war was finished for the emperor, and that he was only
waiting for an answer from St. Petersburg. He nourished his hopes with
the recollections of Tilsit and Erfurt.[155] Was it possible that at
Moscow he should have less ascendancy over Alexander? Then, as is common
with men who have long been the favorites of fortune, what he ardently
wished he confidently expected.

His genius possessed, besides, the extraordinary faculty of being able
to throw aside the most important occupation whenever he pleased,
either for the sake of variety or for rest; for in him the power of will
surpassed that of imagination. In this respect he reigned over himself
no less despotically than he did over others.

Thus Paris diverted his attention from Petersburg. His accumulating
affairs and the couriers, which in the first days succeeded each other
without intermission, served to engage him. But the rapidity with which
he transacted business soon left him again with nothing to do. His
expresses,[156] which at first came from France in a fortnight, now
ceased to arrive. A few military posts, placed in four towns reduced to
ashes, and in wooden houses rudely palisaded, were wholly insufficient
to guard a road of nearly two hundred and eighty miles; for we had been
able to fix only these few steps, and at so great a distance apart, on
so long a ladder. This too lengthened line of operation was consequently
broken at every point where it was touched by the enemy: a few peasants,
or a handful of Cossacks, were quite sufficient for the purpose.

Still no answer was received from Alexander. The uneasiness of Napoleon
increased, while his means of diverting his attention from it
diminished. The activity of his genius, accustomed to the government of
all Europe, had nothing with which to occupy itself but the management
of one hundred thousand men; and then, the organization of his army was
so perfect, that this was scarcely any occupation to him. Here
everything was fixed: he held all the wires in his hand: he was
surrounded by ministers who could tell him immediately, at any hour of
the day, the position of each man in the morning or at night, whether
with his colors, in the hospital, on leave of absence, or wherever else
he might be, and that, from Moscow to Paris: to such a degree of
perfection had the science of a concentrated administration been then
brought, so experienced and well chosen were the officers, and so much
was required by their commander.

But eleven days had already elapsed: still Alexander was silent, and
still did Napoleon hope to overcome his rival by obstinacy: thus losing
the time which he ought to have gained, and which might have been made
so serviceable against attack.

From this period all his actions indicated to the Russians, still more
strongly than at Witepsk, that their mighty foe was resolved to fix
himself in the heart of their empire. Moscow, though in ashes, received
a governor and municipal officers: orders also were issued to provision
it for the winter: and a theatre was formed amid its ruins. The first
actors of Paris, it is said, were sent for. An Italian singer strove to
reproduce in the Kremlin the evening entertainments of the Tuileries. By
such means Napoleon expected to dupe a government which the habit of
reigning over ignorance and error had rendered an adept in all these
delusions.

He was himself sensible of the inadequacy of these means, and yet
September was past, and October had begun. Alexander had not deigned to
reply! it was an affront! he was exasperated. On the 3d of October,
after a night of restlessness and irritation, he summoned his marshals.
"Come in," said he, as soon as he perceived them; "hear the new plan
which I have conceived: Prince Eugene, read it." They listened. "We must
burn the remains of Moscow, and march by Twer to St. Petersburg, where
we shall be joined by Macdonald. Murat and Davoust will form the rear
guard." The emperor, all animation, fixed his sparkling eyes on his
generals, whose rigid and silent countenances expressed nothing but
astonishment.

Then exalting himself in order to rouse them, "What!" said he, "and are
_you_ not inflamed by this idea? Was there ever so great a military
achievement? Henceforth this conquest is the only one that is worthy of
us! With what glory shall we be covered, and what will the whole world
say when it learns that in three months we have conquered the two great
capitals of the North!"

But Davoust, as well as Daru, objected to him "the season, the want of
supplies, a sterile desert, and artificial road, that from Twer to St.
Petersburg runs for a hundred leagues through morasses, and which three
hundred peasants might in a single day render impassable. Why keep
proceeding north? Why go to meet, to provoke, and to defy the winter? it
was already too near; and what was to become of the six thousand wounded
still in Moscow? Were they then to be left to the mercy of Kutusoff?
That general would not fail to follow close at our heels. We should have
at once to attack and to defend, thus marching to a conquest as though
we were in flight."

These officers have declared that they themselves then proposed various
plans: a useless trouble with a prince whose genius outstripped all
other imaginations, and whom their objections would not have stopped,
had he been fully determined to march on St. Petersburg. But that idea
was in him only a sally of anger, an inspiration of despair, on finding
himself obliged in the face of Europe to give way, to relinquish his
conquest and to fall back.

It was more especially a threat to frighten his officers as well as the
enemy, and to bring about and to promote a negotiation which
Caulaincourt was to open. That officer had made himself agreeable to
Alexander; he was the only one of the grandees of Napoleon's court who
had acquired any influence over his rival; but for some months past
Napoleon had kept him at a distance, because he had not been able to
induce him to approve of his expedition.

It was nevertheless to this very man that he was now obliged to have
recourse, and to disclose his anxiety. He sent for him; but, when alone
with him, he hesitated. Taking him by the arm, he walked to and fro for
a long time in great agitation, his pride preventing him from breaking
so painful a silence: at length he yielded, but in a threatening manner.
Caulaincourt, who had formerly been minister to Russia, was to persuade
the enemy to solicit peace of him, as if it were by his condescension
that it was to be granted.

After a few words, which were scarcely articulate, he said that "he was
about to march to St. Petersburg. He knew that the destruction of that
city would give pain to General Caulaincourt. Russia would then rise
against the Emperor Alexander; there would at once be a conspiracy
against that monarch; he would be assassinated, which would be a most
unfortunate circumstance. He esteemed that prince, and should regret
him, both for his own sake and that of France. His disposition," he
added, "was suited to our interests: no prince could replace him with so
much advantage to us. He had thought, therefore, of sending General
Caulaincourt to him, to prevent such a catastrophe."

General Caulaincourt, however, more obstinate than disposed to flattery,
did not alter his tone. He maintained that "these overtures would be
useless; that, unless the Russian territory was entirely evacuated,
Alexander would listen to no proposals; that Russia was sensible of all
her advantage at this season of the year; nay, more, that this step
would be detrimental to himself, inasmuch as it would demonstrate the
need which he had of peace, and betray all the embarrassment of our
situation."

He added, "that the more particular he was in the selection of his
negotiator, the more clearly would he show his anxiety; that, therefore,
he (Caulaincourt) would be more likely to fail than any other,
especially as he would go with the certainty of failing." The emperor
abruptly terminated the conversation by these words: "Well, then, I will
send Lauriston."

The latter asserts that he added fresh objections to the preceding, and
that, being urged by the emperor, he recommended to him to begin his
retreat that very day, by way of Kaluga. Napoleon, irritated at this,
sharply replied, "that he liked simple plans, less circuitous routes,
high roads, the road by which he had come, yet he would not retrace it
but with peace." Then showing to him, as he had done to General
Caulaincourt, the letter which he had written to Alexander, he ordered
him to go and obtain of Kutusoff a safe conduct to St. Petersburg. The
last words of the emperor to Lauriston were, "I want peace, I must have
peace, I absolutely will have peace only save my honor."

The general set out, and reached the advanced posts of the Russians on
the 5th of October. Hostilities were instantly suspended, and an
interview granted, at which Wolkonsky, aid-de-camp to Alexander, and
Beningsen were present, without Kutusoff. Wilson asserts that the
Russian generals and officers, suspicious of their commander, and
accusing him of weakness, had raised a cry of treason, and that the
latter had not dared to leave his camp.

As Lauriston's instructions purported that he was to address himself to
no one but Kutusoff, he peremptorily rejected any intermediate
communication; and seizing, as he said, this occasion for breaking off a
negotiation which he disapproved, he retired, in spite of all the
solicitations of Wolkonsky, with the intention of returning to Moscow.
Had he carried this into effect, no doubt Napoleon, exasperated, would
have fallen upon Kutusoff, overthrown him and destroyed his army, as yet
very incomplete, and forced him into a peace. In case of less decisive
success, he would at least have been able to retire without loss upon
his reinforcements.

Unfortunately, Beningsen desired an interview with Murat. Lauriston
waited. The chief of the Russian staff, an abler negotiator than
soldier, strove to charm this monarch of yesterday by demonstrations of
respect; to seduce him by praises; to deceive him with smooth words,
breathing nothing but a weariness of war and the hope of peace; and
Murat, tired of battles, anxious respecting their result, and, as it is
said, regretting his throne, now that he had no hope of a better,
suffered himself to be charmed, seduced, and deceived.

It was soon demonstrated that the chief point in which they were all
agreed was to deceive Murat and the emperor; and in this they succeeded.
These details transported Napoleon with joy. Credulous from hope,
perhaps from despair, he was for some moments dazzled by these
appearances: eager to escape from the inward feeling which oppressed
him, he seemed desirous to deaden it by resigning himself to an
expansive joy. He therefore summoned all his generals, and triumphantly
announced to them a speedy peace. "They had but to wait another
fortnight. None but himself was acquainted with the Russian character.
On the receipt of his letter St. Petersburg would be illuminated." But
the armistice[157] proposed by Kutusoff was so unsatisfactory to him,
that he ordered Murat to break it instantly; it nevertheless continued
to be observed, the cause of which is not known.

This armistice was a very singular one. If either party wished to break
it, three hours' notice was to be sufficient. It was confined to the
fronts of the two camps, but did not extend to their flanks: such, at
least, was the interpretation put upon it by the Russians. Thus, we
could not bring up a convoy, or send out a foraging party, without
fighting; so that the war continued everywhere excepting where it could
be favorable to us.

As for the emperor, who was not so easily deceived, he had but a few
moments of factitious joy. He soon complained "that an annoying warfare
of partisans[158] hovered around him; that, notwithstanding all these
pacific demonstrations, bodies of Cossacks were prowling on his flanks
and in his rear. Had not one hundred and fifty dragoons of his Old Guard
been surprised and routed by a number of these barbarians? And this two
days after the armistice, on the road to Mojaisk, on his line of
operation, that by which the army communicated with its magazines, its
reinforcements, and he himself with Europe?"

Our soldiers, and especially our cavalry, were obliged every morning to
go to a great distance in quest of provisions for the evening and for
the next day; and as the environs of Moscow and Vinkowo became gradually
more and more drained, they were daily compelled to extend their
excursions. Both men and horses returned worn out with fatigue, that is
to say, such of them as returned at all; for we had to fight for every
bushel of rye and for every truss of forage. It was a series of
incessant surprises and skirmishes, and of continual losses. The
peasantry took part in it. They punished with death such of their number
as the prospect of gain had allured to our camp with provisions. Others
set fire to their own villages to drive our foragers out of them, and to
give them up to the Cossacks, whom they had previously summoned, and who
kept us there in a state of siege.

Thus the war was everywhere: in our front, on our flanks, and in our
rear. Our army was constantly weakening, and the enemy becoming daily
more enterprising. This conquest seemed destined to fare like many
others, which are won in the mass, and lost piece-meal.

Murat himself at length grew uneasy. In these daily skirmishes he had
seen half the remnant of his cavalry melted away. At the advanced posts,
the Russian officers, on meeting with ours, either from weariness,
vanity, or military frankness carried to indiscretion, exaggerated the
disasters which threatened us. Showing us those wild-looking horses,
scarcely at all broken in, whose long manes swept the dust of the plain,
they said, "Did not this tell us that a numerous cavalry was joining
them from all quarters, while ours was gradually perishing? Did not the
continual discharges of firearms within their line apprise us that a
multitude of recruits were then training under favor of the armistice?"

And, in fact, notwithstanding the long journeys which they had to make,
all these recruits joined the army. There was no occasion to defer
calling them together, as in other years, till deep snows, obstructing
all the roads excepting the high road, rendered their desertion
impossible. Not one failed to obey the national appeal; all Russia rose:
mothers, it was said, wept for joy on learning that their sons had been
selected for soldiers: they hastened to acquaint them with the glorious
intelligence, and even accompanied them to see them marked with the sign
of the Crusaders, to hear them cry, _'Tis the will of God!_

The Russian officers added "that they were particularly astonished at
our security on the approach of their frightful winter, which was their
natural and most formidable ally, and which they expected every moment:
they pitied us and urged us to fly. In a fortnight," said they, "your
nails will drop off, and your muskets will fall from your benumbed and
half-dead fingers."

The language of some of the Cossack chiefs was also remarkable. They
asked our officers "if they had not, in their own country, corn enough,
air enough, and graves enough: in short, room enough to live and die?
Why, then, did they come so far from home to throw away their lives, and
to fatten a foreign soil with their blood?" They added that "this was a
robbery of their native land, which while living it is our duty to
cultivate, to defend, and to embellish; and to which, after our death,
we owe our bodies, which we received from it, which it has fed, and
which, in their turn, ought to feed it."

The emperor was not ignorant of these warnings, but he would not suffer
his resolution to be shaken by them. The uneasiness which had again
seized him betrayed itself in angry orders. It was then that he caused
the churches of the Kremlin to be stripped of everything that could
serve for a trophy to the Grand Army. These objects, devoted to
destruction by the Russians themselves, belonged, he said, to the
conquerors, by the double right conferred by victory and by the
conflagration.

It required long efforts to remove the gigantic cross from the steeple
of Ivan the Great, to the possession of which the Russians attached the
salvation of their empire. The emperor determined that it should adorn
the dome of the Invalides[159] at Paris. During the work it was remarked
that a great number of ravens kept flying round this cross, and that
Napoleon, weary of their hoarse croaking, exclaimed that "it seemed as
if these flocks of ill-omened birds meant to defend it." We cannot
pretend to tell all that he thought in this critical situation, but it
is well known that he was accessible to every kind of presentiment.

His nights, in particular, became irksome to him. He passed part of them
with Count Daru. It was then only that he admitted the danger of his
situation. "From Wilna to Moscow, what submission, what point of
support, of rest, or of retreat, marked his power? It was a vast, bare,
and desert field of battle, in which his diminished army was
imperceptible, insulated, and, as it were, lost in the horrors of an
immense void. In this country of foreign manners and religion he had not
conquered a single individual: he was, in fact, master only of the
ground on which he stood. That which he had just quitted and left
behind him was no more his than that which he had not reached.
Insufficient for these vast deserts, he was lost, as it were, in their
immense space."

He then reviewed the different resolutions of which he still had the
choice. "People imagined," he said, "that he had nothing to do but
march, without considering that it would take a month to refit his army
and to evacuate his hospitals; that if he relinquished his wounded, the
Cossacks would daily be seen triumphing over his sick and his
stragglers. He would appear to fly. All Europe would resound with the
report! Europe, which envied him, which was seeking a rival under whom
to rally, and would imagine that it had found such a rival in
Alexander."

The letter of which Lauriston was the bearer to the Czar had been
despatched on the 6th of October, and the answer to it could scarcely
arrive before the 20th: still, in spite of so many threatening
demonstrations, the pride, the policy, and perhaps the health of
Napoleon induced him to pursue the worst of all courses, that of waiting
for this answer, and of trusting to time, which was destroying him.
Daru, as well as his other officers, was astonished to find in him no
longer that prompt decision, variable and rapid as the occurrences which
called it forth: they asserted that his genius could no longer
accommodate itself to circumstances; and they placed it to the account
of his natural persistence, which had led to his elevation, and which
seemed destined to cause his downfall.


§ 9. Napoleon determines to leave Moscow.

Napoleon, however, was completely aware of his situation. To him
everything seemed lost if he receded in the face of astonished Europe,
and everything saved if he could surpass Alexander in determination. He
appreciated but too well the means that were left him to shake the
constancy of his rival; he knew that the diminishing number of his
effective troops, that his situation, the season, in short, everything,
would become daily more and more unfavorable to him; but he reckoned
upon that magic force which his renown gave him. Hitherto that had lent
to him a real and never failing strength: he endeavored, therefore, to
keep up, by specious arguments, the confidence of his army, and perhaps,
also, the faint hope that was still left to himself.

Moscow, empty of inhabitants, no longer furnished him with anything to
lay hold of. "It is no doubt a misfortune," he said, "but this
misfortune is not without its advantage. Had it been otherwise, he would
not have been able to keep order in so large a city, to overawe a
population of three hundred thousand souls, and to sleep in the Kremlin
but at the hazard of assassination. They have left us nothing but ruins,
but at least we are quiet among them. Millions have no doubt slipped
through our hands, but how many thousand millions is Russia losing! Her
commerce is ruined for a century to come. The nation is thrown back
fifty years, which of itself is an important result; and when the first
moment of enthusiasm is passed, this reflection will fill them with
consternation." The conclusion which he drew was, "that so violent a
shock would convulse the throne of Alexander, and force that prince to
sue for peace."

In reviewing his different corps, their reduced battalions now presented
so narrow a front that he was but a moment in traversing it, and this
palpable diminution of their numbers evidently vexed him; either,
therefore, to deceive his enemies or his own soldiers, he declared that
the practice hitherto pursued of ranging the men three deep was wrong,
and that two were sufficient; and he ordered his infantry in future to
be drawn up in two ranks only.

Nay, more: he even insisted that the inflexibility of the regimental
returns should give way to this illusion. He disputed their results; and
the obstinacy of Count Lobau could not overcome his. He was desirous, no
doubt, of making his aid-de-camp[160] understand what he wished others
to believe, and that nothing could shake his resolution.

Meanwhile the attitude of his army seconded his wishes. Most of the
officers persevered in their confidence. The common soldiers, who saw
their whole lives in the present, and expected but little from the
future, were for the most part unconcerned about it, and still retained
their thoughtlessness, the most valuable of their qualities. The
rewards, however, which the emperor bestowed profusely upon them in the
daily reviews, were received at best with a sedate joy, mingled with
some degree of dejection. The vacant places about to be filled up were
yet freshly dyed with blood: these favors were menacing.

On the other hand, when leaving Wilna, many of them had thrown away
their winter garments, that they might load themselves with provisions.
Their shoes were worn out by the length of the march, and the rest of
their apparel by the successive actions in which they had been engaged;
but, in spite of all, their attitude was still lofty. They carefully
concealed their wretched plight from the notice of the emperor, and
appeared before him with their arms bright and in the best order. In
this first court of the palace of the Czars, full sixteen hundred miles
from their resources, and after so many battles and bivouacs, they were
anxious to appear still clean, alert, and prompt, for herein consists
the pride of the soldier; and here they piqued themselves upon it the
more, on account of the difficulty, in order to astonish, and because
man prides himself on whatever requires extraordinary effort.

The emperor complaisantly affected to know no better, catching at
everything to keep up his hopes; when all at once the first snows fell.
With them fell all the illusions with which he had endeavored to
surround himself. From that moment he thought of nothing but retreat,
without, however, pronouncing the word, and yet no positive order for it
could be obtained from him. He merely said that in twenty days the army
must be in winter quarters, and he urged the departure of his wounded.
On this as on other occasions, he would not consent to the voluntary
relinquishment of anything, however trifling: there was a deficiency of
horses for his artillery, now too numerous for an army so reduced; but
it did not signify, and he flew into a passion at the proposal to leave
part of it behind. "No; the enemy would make a trophy of it;" and he
insisted that everything should go along with him.

In this desert country he gave orders for the purchase of 20,000 horses,
and he expected forage for two months to be provided on a tract where
the most distant and dangerous excursions were not sufficient for the
supply of the passing day. Some of his officers were astonished to hear
orders which it was so impossible to execute; but we have already seen
that he sometimes issued such orders to deceive his enemies, and more
frequently to indicate to his own troops the extent of their
necessities, and the exertions they were called on to make in order to
supply them.

His distress manifested itself only in paroxysms of ill-humor, and this
most frequently in the morning, at his levee. There, amid his assembled
chiefs, in whose anxious looks he imagined he could read disapprobation,
he seemed desirous to awe them by the severity of his manner, by his
sharp tone, and his abrupt language. From the paleness of his face,
however, it was evident that Truth, whose best time for obtaining a
hearing is in the stillness of night, had annoyed him grievously by her
presence, and oppressed him with her unwelcome light. Sometimes, on
these occasions, his bursting heart would overflow, and pour forth its
sorrows without any restraint. His agitation was manifested at such
times by movements of extreme impatience; but, so far from lightening
his griefs, he only aggravated them by those acts of injustice for which
he reproached himself, and which he was afterwards anxious to repair.

It was only to Count Daru that he unbosomed himself frankly, but without
any weakness. He said "he should march upon Kutusoff, crush or drive him
back, and then turn suddenly towards Smolensk." Daru, who had before
approved this course, replied that "it was now too late; that the
Russian army was re-enforced, his own weakened, and his victory
forgotten; that, the moment his troops turned their faces towards home,
they would slip away from him by degrees; that each soldier, laden with
booty, would try to get the start of the army, for the purpose of
disposing of it in France." "What, then, is to be done?" exclaimed the
emperor. "Remain here," replied Daru; "make one vast intrenched camp of
Moscow, and pass the winter in it. He would answer for it that there
would be no want of bread and salt: the rest foraging on a large scale
would supply. Such of the horses as they could not procure food for
might be salted down. As to lodgings, if there were not houses enough,
the cellars might make up the deficiency. Here we might stay till the
return of spring, when our re-enforcements and all Lithuania in arms
would come to relieve, to join us, and to complete the conquest."

After listening to this proposal the emperor was for some time silent
and thoughtful: he then replied, "This is a lion's counsel! But what
would Paris say? What would they do there? What have they been doing
there for the last three weeks that they have not heard from me? Who
knows what would be the effect of a suspension of communication for six
months? No: France would not accustom itself to my absence, and Prussia
and Austria would take advantage of it."

Still Napoleon could not make up his mind either to stay or to depart.
Though overcome in this struggle of pertinacity, he deferred from day to
day the avowal of his defeat. Amid the threatening storm of men and
elements which was gathering around him, his ministers and aids-de-camp
saw him pass whole days in discussing the merits of some new verses
which he had received, or the regulations for one of the French theatres
at Paris, which he took three evenings to finish. As they were
acquainted with his deep anxiety, they could not but admire the strength
of his genius, and the facility with which he could take off the whole
force of his attention from, or fix it on, whatever subject he pleased.

It was merely remarked that he prolonged his meals, which had hitherto
been so simple and so short. He seemed desirous of stifling thought by
repletion. He would then pass whole hours half reclined, and as if
torpid, awaiting with a novel in his hand the catastrophe of his
terrible history. In contemplating this obstinate and inflexible
character thus struggling with impossibility, his officers would observe
to each other that, having arrived at the summit of his glory, he no
doubt foresaw that from his first retrograde step would date its
decline; that for this reason he continued immovable, clinging to, and
lingering a few moments longer on, his proud elevation.

Kutusoff, meanwhile, was gaining the time which we were losing. His
letters to Alexander described "his army as being in the midst of
plenty; his recruits arriving from all quarters, and being rapidly
trained; his wounded recovering in the bosom of their families; the
whole of the peasantry on foot, some in arms, some on the look-out from
the tops of steeples or in our camp, while others were stealing into our
habitations, and even into the Kremlin. Rostopchin received a daily
report of what was passing at Moscow as regularly as before its capture.
If they undertook to be our guides, it was for the purpose of delivering
us into his hands. His partisans were every day bringing in some
hundreds of prisoners. Everything concurred to destroy the enemy's army
and to strengthen his own; to serve him and to betray us; in a word, the
campaign, which was over for us, was but just about to begin for them."

Kutusoff neglected no advantage. He made his camp ring with the news of
the victory of Salamanca. "The French," said he, "are expelled from
Madrid. The hand of the Most High presses heavily upon Napoleon. Moscow
will be his prison, his grave, and that of the whole of his Grand Army.
We shall soon subdue France in Russia!" It was in such language that
the Russian general addressed his troops and his emperor; and still he
kept up appearances with Murat. At once bold and crafty, he contrived
gradually to prepare a sudden and impetuous warfare, and to cover his
plans for our destruction with demonstrations of kindness and honeyed
words.

But at length, after so many days of illusion, the charm was all at once
dispelled. A single Cossack dissolved it. This barbarian fired at Murat,
at the moment when that prince came as usual to show himself at the
advanced posts. Highly exasperated, the king immediately declared to
Miloradovitch that an armistice which had been incessantly violated was
now at an end, and that thenceforward each party must look only to
itself.

At the same time he apprised the emperor that the woody country on his
left might favor the enemy's attempts against his flank and rear; that
his first line, being backed against a ravine, might be precipitated
into it; that, in short, the position which he then occupied, in advance
of a defile, was dangerous, and rendered a retrograde movement
absolutely necessary. But Napoleon would not consent to this step,
though he had at first pointed out Woronowo as a more secure position.
In this war, still in his view rather political than military, he
dreaded above all things the appearance of receding. He preferred
risking everything rather than acknowledge to his enemies the slightest
irresolution.

Amid these preparations, and at the moment when Napoleon was reviewing
Ney's divisions in the first court of the Kremlin, a report was all at
once circulated that the sound of cannon was heard towards Vinkowo. It
was some time before any one dared to apprise him of the circumstance;
some from incredulity or uncertainty, and dreading the first movement of
his impatience; others from weakness, hesitating to provoke a terrible
explosion or apprehensive of being sent to verify the assertion, and
exposed to a fatiguing excursion.

Duroc at length took courage to inform him. The emperor was at first
agitated; but, quickly recovering himself, he continued the review. An
aid-de-camp, young Béranger, arrived shortly after with intelligence
that Murat's first line had been surprised and overthrown, his left
turned by favor of the woods, his flank attacked, and his retreat cut
off: that twelve pieces of cannon, twenty ammunition wagons, and thirty
wagons belonging to the train were taken, two generals killed, three or
four thousand men lost, as well as the baggage; and, lastly, that the
king himself was wounded. He had not been able to rescue the relics of
his advanced guard from the enemy but by repeatedly charging their
numerous troops, which already occupied the high road in his rear, his
only retreat.

Our honor, however, had been saved. The attack in front, directed by
Kutusoff, was feeble; Poniatowski, at some leagues' distance on the
right, made a glorious resistance; Murat and his resolute men, by almost
superhuman exertions, checked Bagawout, who was ready to penetrate our
left flank, and restored the fortunes of the day; while Claparčde and
Latour-Maubourg cleared the defile of Spaskapli, two leagues in the rear
of our line, which was already occupied by Platoff. Two Russian generals
were killed, and others wounded: the loss of the enemy was considerable,
but the advantage of the attack, our cannon, our position, the victory,
in short, was theirs.

As for Murat, he had no longer an advanced guard. The armistice had
destroyed half the remnant of his cavalry. This engagement had finished
it; the survivors, emaciated with hunger, were so few as scarcely to
furnish a charge. Thus had the war in earnest recommenced; and it was
now the 18th of October.

At these tidings Napoleon recovered the fire of his youth. A thousand
orders, general and particular, all differing, yet all in unison and all
necessary, burst at once from his impetuous genius. Night had not yet
arrived, and the whole army was already in motion. The emperor himself
quitted Moscow before daylight on the 19th of October. "Let us march
upon Kaluga," said he, "and woe be to those whom I meet with by the
way!"


§ 10. Departure from Moscow; the first battle.

On the southern side of Moscow, near one of its gates, is an extensive
suburb, divided by two high roads; both run to Kaluga: that on the right
is the more ancient, the other is quite new. It was on the first that
Kutusoff had just beaten Murat. By the same road Napoleon left Moscow on
the 19th of October, announcing to his officers his intention to return
to the frontiers of Poland. One of them, Rapp, observed that "it was
late, and that winter might overtake them by the way." The emperor
replied "that he had been obliged to allow time to the soldiers to
recruit themselves, and to the wounded collected at Moscow, and at other
places, to move off towards Smolensk." Then, pointing to a still serene
sky, he asked "if in that brilliant sun they did not recognize his
star." But this appeal to his fortune, and the sinister expression of
his looks, belied the security which he affected.

Napoleon entered Moscow with ninety thousand fighting men, and twenty
thousand sick and wounded, and quitted it with more than a hundred
thousand combatants. He left there with only twelve hundred sick. His
stay, therefore, notwithstanding daily losses, had served to rest his
infantry, to complete his stores, to augment his force by ten thousand
men, and to protect the recovery or the retreat of a great part of his
wounded. But on this very first day he could perceive that his cavalry
and artillery might be said rather to crawl than to march.

A melancholy spectacle added to the gloomy presentiments of our chief.
The army had, ever since the preceding day, been pouring out of Moscow
without intermission. In this column of one hundred and forty thousand
men and about fifty thousand horses of all kinds, the hundred thousand
combatants marching at its head with their knapsacks and their arms,
upward of five hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, and two thousand
artillery wagons, still exhibited a formidable appearance, worthy of
soldiers who had conquered the world. But the rest, whose numbers were
in an alarming proportion, resembled a horde of Tartars after a
successful invasion. They formed three or four files of almost infinite
length, in which there was a confused mixture of chaises, ammunition
wagons, handsome carriages, and, in short, vehicles of every kind. Here
trophies of Russian, Turkish, and Persian colors, and the gigantic cross
of Ivan the Great; there, long-bearded Russian peasants carrying or
driving along our booty, of which they constituted a part; and some
dragging even wheelbarrows filled with whatever they could remove. The
fools were not likely to proceed in this manner till the conclusion of
the first day, and yet their senseless avidity made them think nothing
of battles and a march of two hundred leagues.

Among these followers of the army were particularly remarked a multitude
of men of all nations, without uniform and without arms, and servants
swearing in every language, and urging by dint of shouts and blows the
progress of elegant carriages, drawn by pigmy horses harnessed with
ropes. These were filled with provisions, or with booty saved from the
flames. They carried, also, many French women with their children.
Formerly these females had been happy inhabitants of Moscow; but they
now fled from the hatred of the Muscovites, which the invasion had drawn
upon their heads, and the army was their only asylum.

A few Russian girls, voluntary captives, also followed. It looked like a
caravan, a wandering nation, or, rather, one of those armies of
antiquity returning loaded with slaves and with spoils after a great
devastation. It was inconceivable how the head of this column could draw
and protect such a prodigious mass of equipages in so long a route.

Notwithstanding the width of the road and the shouts of his escort,
Napoleon had great difficulty in obtaining a passage through this
immense throng. No doubt the obstruction of a defile, a few forced
marches, or a handful of Cossacks would have been sufficient to rid us
all of this encumbrance; but fortune or the enemy had alone a right to
lighten us in this manner. As for the emperor, he was fully sensible
that he could neither deprive his soldiers of this fruit of so many
toils, nor reproach them for securing it. Besides, provisions concealed
the booty; and was it for him, who could not give his troops the
subsistence he should have done, to forbid their carrying it along with
them? Lastly, in case of the failure of military conveyances, these
vehicles would be the only means of preservation for the sick and
wounded.

Napoleon therefore extricated himself in silence from the immense train
which he drew after him, and advanced on the old road leading to Kaluga.
He pushed on in this direction for some hours, declaring that he would
go and beat Kutusoff on the very field of his victory. But all at once,
about midday, opposite to the castle of Krasnopachra, where he halted,
he suddenly turned to the right with his army, and in three marches
across the country gained the new road to Kaluga.

The rain, which overtook him in the midst of this manoeuvre, spoiled the
cross-roads, and obliged him to halt in them. This was a most
unfortunate circumstance. It was with difficulty that our cannon were
drawn out of the sloughs.

At any rate, the emperor had masked his movement by Ney's corps and the
remnants of Murat's cavalry, which had remained behind the Motscha and
at Woronowo. Kutusoff, deceived by this feint, was still waiting for the
Grand Army on the old road, while, on the 23d of October, the whole of
it had been transferred to the new one, and had but one march to make in
order to pass quietly by him, and to get between him and Kaluga.

On the first day of this flanking march, a letter was sent from Berthier
to Kutusoff, as a last attempt at peace, or perhaps merely as a ruse. No
satisfactory answer was returned to it.

On the 23d the imperial quarters were at Borowsk. That night was an
agreeable one for the emperor: he was informed that, at six in the
evening, Delzons with his division, who was four leagues in advance of
him, had found the town of Malo-jaroslavetz and the woods which command
it unoccupied: this was a strong position within reach of Kutusoff, and
the only point where he could cut us off from the new road to Kaluga.

The emperor wished at first to secure that advantage by his presence:
the order to march was even given, but shortly after withdrawn, we know
not why. He passed the whole of that evening on horseback, not far from
Borowsk, on the left of the road, the side on which he supposed Kutusoff
to be. He reconnoitered the ground in the midst of a heavy rain, as if
he anticipated that it might become a field of battle. Next day, the
24th, he learned that the Russians had disputed the possession of the
town with Delzons. Either from confidence or uncertainty in his plans,
this intelligence appeared to give him very little concern.

He quitted Borowsk, therefore, late and leisurely, when the noise of a
very smart engagement reached where he was; he then became uneasy,
hastened to an eminence and listened. "Had the Russians anticipated him?
Was his manoeuvre thwarted? Had he not used sufficient expedition in
that march, the object of which was to pass the left flank of Kutusoff?"

The emperor was still listening: the noise increased. "Is it then a
battle?" he exclaimed. Every discharge agitated him, for the chief point
with him was no longer to conquer, but to preserve, and he urged on with
all possible speed, Davoust accompanying him; but he and that marshal
did not reach the field of battle till dark, when the firing was already
subsiding, and the whole was over.

The emperor saw the close of the battle, but without being able to
assist the viceroy.[161] A band of Cossacks from Twer had nearly
captured one of his officers, who was only a very short distance from
him.

At this time an officer, sent by Prince Eugene, came to him and
explained the whole affair. "The troops had," he said, "in the first
place, been obliged to cross the Louja at the foot of the town, at the
bottom of an elbow which the river makes in its course, and then to
climb a steep hill. It is on this precipitous declivity, broken by
pointed crags, that the town is built. Beyond is an elevated plain,
surrounded with woods, from which run three roads, one in front coming
from Kaluga, and two on the left, from Lectazowo, the seat of the
intrenched camp of Kutusoff."

After crossing the Louja by a narrow bridge, the high road from Kaluga
runs along the bottom of a ravine which ascends to the town, and then
enters it. The enemy in mass occupied this hollow way; Delzons and his
Frenchmen rushed upon them pell-mell; the Russians were broken and
overthrown; they gave way, and presently our bayonets glistened on the
heights.

Delzons, conceiving himself sure of the victory, announced it as won. He
had nothing but a pile of buildings to storm; but his soldiers
hesitated. He himself advanced, and was encouraging them by his words,
actions, and example, when a ball struck him in the forehead, and
extended him on the ground. His brother threw himself upon him, covered
him with his body, clasped him in his arms, and was striving to bear him
out of the fire and the fray, when a second ball hit him also, and both
expired together.

This loss left a great void, which required to be filled. Guilleminot
succeeded Delzons, and the first thing he did was to throw a hundred men
into a church and the yard around it, in the walls of which they made
loopholes. This church stood on the left of the high road, which it
commanded, and to its possession we owed the victory. Five times during
the day was this post passed by the Russian columns as they were
pursuing ours, and five times did its fire, seasonably poured upon their
flank and rear, harass them and retard their progress: afterward, when
we resumed the offensive, this position placed them between two fires,
and ensured the success of our attacks.

Scarcely had that general made this disposition when he was assailed by
a host of the enemy: he was driven back towards the bridge, where the
viceroy had stationed himself in order to judge how to act and to
prepare his reserves. At first the re-enforcements which he sent came up
but slowly one after another; and, as is almost always the case where
there is this tardy movement, being singly inadequate to any great
effort, each was successively destroyed without result.

At length the whole of the 14th division was engaged; and the combat was
carried for the third time to the heights. But when the French had
passed the houses, advanced beyond the central point from which they had
set out, and reached the plain where they were exposed, and where the
circle expanded, they could advance no farther; overwhelmed by the fire
of a whole Russian army, they were daunted and shaken; fresh columns
incessantly came up: our thinned ranks gave way and were broken; the
obstacles of the ground increased their confusion; and at length they
retired precipitately, and abandoned everything.

Meanwhile, the shells having set fire to the wooden town behind them, in
their retreat they were stopped by the conflagration: one fire drove
them back upon another; the Russian recruits, wrought up to a pitch of
fanatic fury, closely pursued them; our soldiers became enraged; they
fought man to man; some were seen seizing each other with one hand and
striking with the other, until both rolled down the precipices into the
flames without quitting their hold. There the wounded expired, either
suffocated by the smoke or consumed by the flames.

The 15th division was still left. The viceroy summoned it: as it
advanced, it threw a brigade into the suburb on the left, and another
into the town on the right. It consisted of Italians, recruits, who had
never before been in action. They ascended, shouting enthusiastically,
ignorant of the danger or despising it, from that singular disposition
which renders life less dear in its flower than in its decline, either
because while young we fear death less from the feeling of its distance,
or because at that age, rich in years and lavish of everything, we are
prodigal of life as the wealthy are of their fortune.

The shock was terrible: everything was reconquered for the fourth time,
and speedily lost again in like manner. More eager to begin than their
seniors, these young troops were sooner disheartened, and returned
flying to the old battalions, which supported them, and were obliged to
lead them back to danger.

The Russians, imboldened by their constantly increasing numbers and by
success, descended by their right to gain possession of the bridge and
to cut off our retreat. Prince Eugene had nothing left but his last
reserve: he and his guard, therefore, now took part in the combat. At
this sight, and in obedience to his call, the remains of the 13th,
14th, and 15th divisions resumed their courage: they made a last and
desperate effort, and for the fifth time the combat was transferred to
the heights.

At the same time, Colonel Peraldi and the Italian troops overthrew with
their bayonets the Russians who were already approaching the left of the
bridge: infuriated by the smoke and the fire through which they had
passed, and encouraged by their success and the havoc which they made,
they pushed forward without stopping on the elevated plain, and
endeavored to make themselves masters of the enemy's cannon; but one of
those deep clefts with which the soil of Russia is intersected stopped
them in the midst of a destructive fire, their ranks opened, the enemy's
cavalry attacked them, and they were driven back to the very gardens of
the suburb. There they paused and rallied: all, both French and
Italians, obstinately defended the upper avenues of the town, and the
Russians, being at length repulsed, drew back and concentrated
themselves on the road to Kaluga, between the woods and
Malo-jaroslavetz.

In this manner did 18,000 Italians and French, crowded together at the
bottom of a ravine, defeat 50,000 Russians, posted over their heads, and
seconded by all the obstacles that a town built on a steep declivity is
capable of presenting.

The army, however, surveyed with sorrow this field of battle, where
seven generals and 4000 French and Italians had been killed or wounded.
The sight of the enemy's loss afforded no consolation; it was not twice
the amount of ours, and their wounded would be saved. It was moreover
recollected, that in a similar situation, Peter I., in sacrificing ten
Russians for one Swede, thought that he was not sustaining merely an
equal loss, but that he was gaining even by so terrible a bargain. But
what caused the greatest pain was the reflection that this sanguinary
conflict might have been spared.[162]


§ 11. Napoleon holds a council of war and decides to retreat northward.

Do you recollect, comrades, that fatal field? Can you still figure to
yourselves the blood-stained ruins of that town, those deep ravines, and
the woods which surround that elevated plain, and mark it, as it were,
for a field of combat? On the one side were the French, quitting the
north, from which they sought to fly; on the other, at the entrance of
the wood, were the Russians, guarding the south, and striving to drive
us back upon their all-subduing winter. In the midst of this plain,
between the two armies, was Napoleon, his steps and his eyes wandering
from south to west, along the roads to Kaluga and Medyn, both which were
closed against him. On that to Kaluga were Kutusoff and one hundred and
twenty thousand men, ready to dispute with him sixty miles of defiles;
towards Medyn he beheld a numerous cavalry: it was Platoff and those
same hordes which had just penetrated the flank of the army, traversed
it through and through, and burst forth, laden with booty, to form again
on his right flank, where re-enforcements and artillery were waiting for
them. It was on that side that the eyes of the emperor were fixed the
longest; it was principally in regard to it that he listened to reports
of his officers, and consulted his maps: until, oppressed with regret
and gloomy forebodings, he slowly returned to his headquarters.

Murat, Prince Eugene, Berthier, Davoust and Bessičres followed him. This
miserable habitation of an obscure artisan contained within it an
emperor, two kings, and three generals. Here they were about to decide
the fate of Europe, and of the army which had conquered it. Smolensk was
the goal. Should they march thither by Kaluga, Medyn, or Mojaisk?
Napoleon was seated at a table, his head supported by his hands, which
concealed his features, as well as the anguish which they no doubt
expressed.

A silence fraught with such imminent perils was for some time respected,
until Murat, whose actions were always the result of impetuous feeling,
became weary of this hesitation.

"Give him but the remnant of his cavalry and that of the Guard," he
said, "and he would force his way into Russian forests and the Russian
battalions, overthrow all before him, and open anew to the army the road
to Kaluga."

Here Napoleon, raising his head, extinguished all his fire by saying
that "we had exhibited temerity enough already; that we had done but too
much for glory, and it was now high time to give up thinking of anything
but how to save the rest of the army."

Bessičres, either because his pride revolted at the idea of being put
under the command of the King of Naples, or from a desire to preserve
uninjured the cavalry of the Guard, which he had formed, for which he
was answerable to Napoleon, and which he exclusively commanded, finding
himself supported, then ventured to add, that "neither the army nor even
the Guard had sufficient spirit left for such efforts." The marshal
concluded by giving his opinion in favor of retreat, which the emperor
approved by his silence.

The Prince of Eckmühl then immediately said that, "as a retreat seemed
decided upon, he proposed that it should be by Medyn and Smolensk." But
Murat here interrupted him; and, whether from enmity, or from that
discouragement which usually succeeds the rejection of a rash measure,
he declared himself astonished "that any one should dare propose so
imprudent a step to the emperor. Had Davoust sworn the destruction of
the army? Would he have so long and heavy a column trail along in utter
uncertainty, without guides, and on an unknown track, within reach of
Kutusoff, presenting its flank to all the attacks of the enemy? Would
he, Davoust, defend it? When in our rear Borowsk and Vereďa would lead
us without danger to Mojaisk, why reject that safe route? There
provisions must have been already collected, there everything was known
to us, and we could not be misled by any traitor."

At these words, Davoust, burning with a rage which he could scarcely
repress, replied that "he proposed a retreat through a fertile country,
by an untouched, plentiful, and well supplied route, where the villages
were still standing, and by the shortest road, that the enemy might not
be able to cut us off, as on the route by Mojaisk to Smolensk,
recommended by Murat. And what a route! a desert of sand and ashes,
where convoys of wounded would increase our embarrassment, where we
should meet with nothing but ruins, traces of blood, skeletons, and
famine!

"Moreover, though he deemed it his duty to give his opinion when it was
asked, he was ready to obey orders contrary to it with the same zeal as
if they were consonant with his suggestions; but that the emperor alone
had a right to impose silence on him, and not Murat, who was not his
sovereign, and never should be!"

The quarrel growing warm, Bessičres and Berthier interposed. As for the
emperor, still absorbed and in the same attitude, he appeared insensible
to what was passing. At length he broke up the council with the words,
"Well, gentlemen, I will decide."

He decided on retreat, and by that road which would carry him most
speedily to a distance from the enemy; but it required another desperate
effort before he could bring himself to give an order of march so new to
him. So painful, indeed, was this effort, that in the inward struggle
which it produced he lost the use of his senses.

It is a remarkable fact, that he issued orders for this retreat
northward at the very moment that Kutusoff and his Russians, dismayed at
their defeat at Malo-jaroslavetz, were retiring towards the south.

From that moment Napoleon had nothing in his view but Paris, just as on
leaving Paris he saw nothing but Moscow. It was on the 26th of October
that the fatal movement of our retreat commenced. Davoust, with
twenty-five thousand men, remained as a rear-guard. While by advancing a
few paces, without being aware of it, he was spreading consternation
among the Russians, the Grand Army, in astonishment, was turning its
back on them. It marched with downcast eyes, as if ashamed and humbled.
In the midst of it, its commander, gloomy and silent, seemed to be
anxiously measuring his line of communication with the fortresses on the
Vistula.

For the space of more than two hundred and fifty leagues it offered but
two points where he could halt and rest, the first Smolensk, the second
Minsk. He had made those towns his two great depôts, where immense
magazines were established.

Napoleon, however, reckoned upon the Duke of Belluno and his thirty-six
thousand fresh troops. That corps had been at Smolensk ever since the
beginning of September. He relied also upon detachments being sent from
his depôts, on the sick and wounded who had recovered, and on the
stragglers, who would be rallied and formed at Wilna into marching
battalions. All these would successively come into line, and fill up the
chasms made in his ranks by the sword, famine, and disease. He should
therefore have time to regain that position on the Dwina and the
Borysthenes, where he wished it to be believed that his presence, added
to that of Victor, Saint-Cyr, and Macdonald, would overawe
Wittgenstein,[163] check Kutusoff, and threaten the Czar Alexander even
in his second capital.

He accordingly announced that he was going to take post on the Dwina.
But it was not in truth, upon that river and the Borysthenes that his
thoughts rested: he was sensible that it was not with a harassed and
reduced army that he could guard the interval between those two rivers
and their courses, which the ice would speedily seal.

It was therefore a hundred leagues beyond Smolensk, in a more compact
position, behind the morasses of the Berezina--to Minsk, that it was
necessary to repair in search of winter quarters, from which he was then
forty marches distant.


§ 12. Napoleon's attempt to destroy the Kremlin: view of the
battle-field of Borodino.

Napoleon had arrived quite pensive at Vereďa,[164] when Mortier
presented himself before him. But I here discover, that, hurried along
in the relation just as we then were in reality, by the rapid succession
of violent scenes and memorable events, my attention has been diverted
from occurrences worthy of notice. On the 23d of October, at half past
one in the morning, the air was shaken by a tremendous explosion, which
for a moment startled both armies, though amid such mighty anticipations
scarcely anything then much excited their astonishment.

Mortier had obeyed his orders: the Kremlin was no more.[165] Barrels of
powder had been placed in all the halls of the palaces of the Czars, and
one hundred and eighty-three thousand pounds under the vaults which
supported them. The marshal, with eight thousand men, had remained on
this volcano, which a single Russian shell might have exploded. Here he
covered the march of the army upon Kaluga, and the retreat of our
different convoys towards Mojaisk.

Among these eight thousand men there were scarcely two thousand on whom
Mortier could rely; the others were dismounted cavalry, men of different
countries and regiments, under new officers, with dissimilar habits,
with no common recollections, in short, without any bond of union,
forming a rabble rather than an organized body, and who could scarcely
fail in a short time to disperse.

This marshal, therefore, was looked upon as a doomed man. The other
chiefs, his old companions in glory, had left him with tears in their
eyes, as well as the emperor himself, who said to him "that he relied on
his good fortune; but still, in war, we must sometimes make part of a
sacrifice." Mortier resigned himself without hesitation to his fate. His
orders were to defend the Kremlin, and on retreating to blow it up, and
to burn what still remained of the city. It was on the 21st of October,
that Napoleon sent him his last commands. After executing them, the
marshal was to march upon Vereďa, and to form the rear guard of the
army.

In this letter Napoleon particularly recommended to him "to put the men
still remaining in the hospitals into the carriages belonging to the
young rear guard, those of the dismounted cavalry, and any others that
he might find. The Romans," he added, "awarded a civic crown to him who
had saved a citizen: so many soldiers as he should save, so many crowns
would the Duke of Treviso deserve."

At length, after four days' resistance, the French bade a final adieu to
that fatal city. They carried with them four hundred wounded, and, on
retiring, deposited in a safe and secret place a firework, skilfully
prepared, which was already slowly consuming: the rate of its burning
had been minutely calculated, so that it was known precisely at what
hour the fire would reach the immense collection of powder buried among
the foundations of these devoted palaces.

Mortier hastened his flight; but as he was retiring, some greedy
Cossacks and miserable-looking Muscovites, allured probably by the
prospect of pillage, approached: they listened, and, imboldened by the
apparent quiet which pervaded the fortress, they ventured to penetrate
into it: they ascended; and their greedy hands were already stretched
forth to lay hold on their plunder, when in an instant they were all
hurled into the air with the buildings they had come to pillage, and
with thirty thousand stand of arms that had been left in them; and soon
their mangled limbs, mingled with fragments of walls and shattered
weapons, thrown to a great distance, descended in a horrible shower.

The earth shook under the feet of Mortier: at Fominskoé, thirty miles
off, the emperor heard the explosion; and in that indignant tone in
which he sometimes addressed Europe, he published the following day a
bulletin, at Borowsk, announcing that "the Kremlin, the arsenal, the
magazines, were all destroyed; that that ancient citadel, which dated
from the origin of the monarchy, and was the first palace of the Czars,
no longer existed; that Moscow was now but a heap of ruins, without
importance either political or military. He had abandoned it to Russian
beggars and plunderers, in order to march against Kutusoff, to throw
himself on the left wing of that general, to drive him back, and then to
proceed quietly to the banks of the Dwina, where he should take up his
winter quarters." Then, apprehensive lest he should appear to be
retreating, he added that "there he should be within eighty leagues of
Wilna and of St. Petersburg, a double advantage; that is to say, twenty
marches nearer to his resources and his object." By this remark he hoped
to give to his retreat the air of an offensive movement.

It was on this occasion he declared that "he had refused to give orders
for the entire destruction of the country which he was quitting: he felt
a repugnance to aggravate the miseries of its inhabitants. To punish
the Russian incendiary, and a few wretches who made war like Tartars, he
would not ruin nine thousand proprietors, and leave two hundred thousand
serfs, innocent of all these barbarities, absolutely destitute of
resources."

On the 28th of October we again beheld Mojaisk.[166] That town was still
full of wounded: some were carried away, and the rest collected together
and abandoned, as at Moscow, to the generosity of the Russians. Napoleon
had proceeded but a short distance from that place when the winter
began. Thus, after an obstinate combat, and ten days' marching and
countermarching, the army, which had brought from Moscow only fifteen
rations of flour per man, had advanced but three days' march on its
retreat. It was in want of provisions, and now overtaken by the winter.

Some leagues from Mojaisk we had to cross the Kologa. It was but a large
rivulet: two trees, the same number of props, and a few planks were
sufficient to ensure the passage; but such was the confusion and
inattention that the emperor was detained there. Several pieces of
cannon, which it was attempted to get across by fording, were lost. It
seemed as if each corps was marching separately, as if there were no
staff, no general order, no common tie, nothing, in short, that bound
them together. In fact, the elevation of the chiefs rendered them too
independent of each other. The emperor himself had become so exceedingly
great, that he was at an immeasurable distance from the details of his
army; while Berthier, holding an intermediate place between him and
officers, all of whom were kings, princes, or marshals, was obliged to
act with a great deal of caution. He was, besides, incompetent to his
situation.

The emperor, stopped by the frivolous obstacle of a broken bridge,
confined himself to a gesture expressive of dissatisfaction and
contempt, to which Berthier replied only by a look of resignation. On
this particular point he had received no orders from the emperor: he
therefore conceived that he was not to blame; for Berthier was a
faithful echo, a mirror, and nothing more. Always ready, clear, and
distinct, he, so to speak, exactly repeated the emperor, reflected him,
but added nothing of his own; and what Napoleon forgot was never
supplied.

After passing the Kologa we marched on, absorbed in thought, when some
of us, raising our eyes, uttered a cry of horror. Each one instantly
looked about him, and there lay stretched before us a plain trampled,
bare, and devastated, all the trees cut down within a few feet from the
surface, and farther off craggy hills, the highest of which appeared
misshapen, and bore a striking resemblance to an extinguished volcano.
The ground around us was everywhere covered with fragments of helmets
and cuirasses, with broken drums, gun-stocks, tatters of uniforms, and
standards dyed with blood.

On this desolate spot[167] lay thirty thousand half-devoured corpses;
while a pile of skeletons on the summit of one of the hills overlooked
the whole. It seemed as though Death had here fixed his throne.
Presently the cry was heard, "It is the field of the great battle!"
forming a long and doleful murmur. The emperor passed quickly by. No one
stopped. Cold, hunger, and the enemy were urging us on: we merely turned
our faces as we marched along to take a last melancholy look at the vast
grave of so many companions in arms, uselessly sacrificed, and whose
remains we were obliged to leave behind, unheeded and uninterred.


§ 13. Napoleon reaches Viazma. Battle near that place.

At length the emperor reached Viazma.[168] He here halted to wait for
Prince Eugene and Davoust, and to reconnoitre the road to Medyn and
Yucknow, which at this place unites with the high road to Smolensk. It
was this cross-road which might possibly bring the Russian army from
Malo-jaroslavetz on his passage. But on the first of November, after
waiting thirty-six hours and seeing no indications of that army, he
again set out, wavering between the hope that Kutusoff had fallen
asleep, and the fear lest he might have left Viazma on his right, and
proceeded two marches farther to cut off his retreat. He left Ney,
however, at Viazma to collect the first and fourth corps, and to
relieve, by forming the rear guard, Davoust, whom he judged to be
fatigued.

He complained of the tardiness of the latter, and wrote to reproach him
with being still five marches behind, when he ought to have been no more
than three: the genius of that marshal he considered too methodical to
direct, in a suitable manner, so irregular a march.

But this delay was accounted for by the fact that Davoust had found a
marsh without a bridge, and completely encumbered with wagons. He had
dragged them out of the slough in sight of the enemy, and so near them
that their fires lighted his labors, and the sound of their drums
mingled with that of his own voice. For the marshal and his generals
could not yet resolve on abandoning to the enemy so many trophies; nor
did they make up their minds to it until after fruitless exertions, and
in the last extremity.

The road they were traversing was crossed at short intervals by marshy
hollows. A slope, slippery as glass with the ice, hurried the carriages
into them, and there they stuck fast: to draw them out it was necessary
to climb on the opposite side a similar slope, where the horses, whose
shoes were worn entirely smooth, could obtain no footing, and where
every moment they and their drivers dropped down exhausted together. The
famished soldiers immediately fell upon these luckless animals and tore
them to pieces; then at fires, kindled with the remains of their
carriages, they broiled the yet bleeding flesh, and devoured it.

Meanwhile the artillerymen, a chosen corps, and their officers, all
brought up in the first military school in the world, kept off these
unfortunate wretches whenever they could, and took the horses from their
own carriages and wagons, which they abandoned to save the guns. To
these they harnessed their horses, nay, even themselves; while the
Cossacks, observing their disasters from a distance, though they dared
not attack, with their light pieces mounted on sledges, threw their
balls among these disorderly groups, and increased the confusion.

On the 3d of November, Prince Eugene was advancing towards Viazma,
preceded by his equipages and his artillery, when the first light of day
all at once discovered to him his retreat threatened by an army on his
left, behind him his rear guard cut off, and on his left the plain
covered with stragglers and scattered vehicles, fleeing before the
lances of the enemy. At the same time, towards Viazma he heard Marshal
Ney, who should have assisted him, fighting for his own preservation.

At the same time, Compans, one of Davoust's generals, joined the Italian
rear guard with his division. These cleared a passage for themselves,
and while, united with the viceroy, they were warmly engaged, Davoust
with his column passed rapidly behind them, along the left side of the
high road, then crossing it, as soon as he had got beyond them, he
claimed his place in the order of battle, took the right wing, and found
himself between Viazma and the Russians. Prince Eugene gave up to him
the ground which he had been defending, and crossed to the other side of
the road. The enemy then began to extend himself in front of them, and
endeavored to outflank their wings.

Miloradovitch, the Russian general, left to himself, now tried to break
the French line of battle; but he could penetrate it by his fire alone,
which made dreadful havoc in our ranks. Eugene and Davoust were growing
weak; and, as they heard another action in the rear of their right, they
imagined that the rest of the Russian army was approaching Viazma by the
Yuknof road, the outlet of which Ney was defending.

It was only, however, an advanced guard: but they were alarmed at the
noise of this engagement in the rear of their own, threatening their
retreat. The action had now continued ever since seven in the morning,
and night was approaching: the baggage must by this time have got away,
and the French generals began to retire.

This retrograde movement increased the ardor of the enemy, and but for a
memorable effort of the 25th, 57th, and 85th regiments, and the
protection of a ravine, Davoust's corps would have been broken, turned
by its right, and destroyed. Prince Eugene, who was not so briskly
attacked, was able to effect his retreat more rapidly through Viazma;
but the Russians followed him thither, and had penetrated into the town
at the very time when Davoust, pursued by 20,000 men, and overwhelmed by
eighty pieces of cannon, in his turn attempted to pass.

Morand's division first entered the place: it was marching on with
confidence, under the idea that the action was over, when the Russians,
who were concealed by the windings of the streets, suddenly fell upon
it. The surprise was complete, and the confusion great: Morand
nevertheless rallied and encouraged his men, retrieved matters, and
fought his way through.

It was Compans who put an end to the affair. He closed the march with
his division. Finding himself too closely pressed by the bravest troops
of Miloradovitch, he turned about, dashed in person at the most eager,
overthrew them, and having thus made them fear him, he finished his
retreat without farther molestation. This conflict, glorious to each,
was in its result disastrous to all. It was, unhappily, without unity or
order. There were troops enough to conquer had there not been too many
commanders. It was not till near two o'clock that the latter met to
concert their manoeuvres, and these were even then executed without
harmony.

When at length the river, the town of Viazma, night, mutual fatigue, and
Marshal Ney had established a barrier between them and the enemy, the
danger being adjourned and the bivouacs established, the numbers were
counted. Several pieces of cannon which had been broken, the baggage,
and four thousand killed or wounded were found missing. Many of the
soldiers, too, had dispersed. Their honor had been saved, but there were
immense gaps in their ranks. It was necessary to close them up, to bring
everything within a narrower compass, to form what remained into a more
compact whole. Each regiment scarcely composed a battalion, each
battalion scarcely a platoon. The soldiers remaining had no longer their
accustomed places, comrades, or officers.

This sad reorganization took place by the light of the conflagration of
Viazma, and during the successive discharges of the cannon of Ney and
Miloradovitch, the thunders of which were prolonged amid the double
gloom of the night and of the forests. Several times the remnants of
these brave battalions, conceiving they were attacked, crawled to their
arms. The next morning, when they again fell into their ranks, they were
astonished at the smallness of their numbers.


§ 14. Dreadful snow-storm on the 6th of November; its effects upon the
troops.

The spirits of the troops were nevertheless still supported by the
example of their leaders, by the hopes of finding all their wants
supplied at Smolensk, and still more by the aspect of a yet brilliant
sun, that universal source of hope and life, which seemed to contradict
and deny the spectacles of despair and death that already encompassed
us.

But on the 6th of November the heavens changed. Their azure disappeared.
The army marched enveloped in a chilling mist. This mist became thicker,
and presently a blinding storm of snow descended upon it. It seemed as
if the sky itself were falling, and uniting with the earth and our
enemies to complete our destruction. All objects rapidly changed their
appearance, becoming utterly confounded, and not to be recognized any
more: we proceeded without knowing where we were, without perceiving the
point to which we were bound; everything was converted into an obstacle
to stop our progress. While we were struggling with the tempest of wind
and snow, the latter, driven by the storm, lodged and accumulated in
every hollow, concealing unknown abysses, which perfidiously opened
beneath our feet. There the soldiers were ingulfed, and the weakest,
resigning themselves to their fate, found their grave in these
treacherous pits.

Those who followed turned aside; but the tempest, driving into their
faces the snow that was descending from the sky and that which it raised
from the earth, seemed resolved to arrest their farther progress. The
Russian winter, in this new form, attacked them at every point: it
penetrated through their light garments, and their rent and worn-out
shoes. Their wet clothes froze to their bodies: an icy envelope encased
them, and stiffened all their limbs. A piercing and violent wind almost
prevented respiration; and, seizing their breath the moment it was
exhaled, converted it into icicles, which hung from their beards all
about their mouths.

The miserable creatures still crawled shivering along, till the snow,
gathering in balls on the soles of their shoes, or a fragment of some
broken article, a branch of a tree, or the body of one of their
comrades, encountered in the way, caused them to stumble and fall. There
their groans were unheeded; the snow soon covered them; slight hillocks
marked the spots where they lay: there was their only grave. The road,
like a cemetery, was thickly studded with these elevations; the most
intrepid and the most indifferent were affected; they passed quickly on
with averted looks. But before them and around them there was nothing
but snow; this immense and dismal uniformity extended farther than the
eye could reach; the imagination was astounded: it seemed a vast
winding-sheet which Nature had thrown over the army. The only objects
not enveloped by it were some gloomy pines, trees of the tombs, with
their funereal verdure and their gigantic and motionless trunks
completing the solemnity of a general mourning, and of an army dying
amid nature already dead.

Everything, even to their very arms, still offensive at
Malo-jaroslavetz, but since defensive only, now turned against our men.
They seemed to their frozen limbs an insupportable weight. In the falls
they experienced, they dropped almost unperceived from their hands, and
were broken or buried in the snow. If they rose again it was without
them: they had not thrown them away, but hunger and cold had wrested
them from their grasp. The fingers of others were frozen to the muskets
they still held, depriving them of the motion necessary to keep up some
degree of warmth and of life.

We soon met with numbers of men belonging to all the different corps,
sometimes singly, sometimes in troops. They had not basely deserted
their colors: it was cold and exhaustion which had separated them from
them. In this mortal struggle, at once general and individual, they had
parted from each other, and there they were, disarmed, vanquished,
defenceless, without leaders, obeying nothing but the most urgent
instinct of self-preservation.

Most of them, attracted by the sight of by-paths, dispersed themselves
over the country in hopes of finding bread and shelter for the coming
night; but on their first passage all had been laid waste to the extent
of seven or eight leagues: they met only with Cossacks and an armed
population, which gathered around them, wounded and stripped them naked,
and then left them, with bursts of savage laughter, to perish in the
snow. These people, who had risen at the call of Alexander and Kutusoff,
and who had not then learned, as they since have, to avenge nobly a
country which they had been unable to defend, hovered on both flanks of
the army under favor of the woods. Those whom they did not despatch with
their pikes and hatchets, they drove back to the fatal and all-devouring
high road.

Night then came on: a night of sixteen hours! But on that snow, which
covered everything, where were they to halt, where sit, where lie down,
where find even a root to satisfy their hunger, or dry wood to kindle a
fire? Fatigue, darkness, and repeated orders nevertheless stopped those
whom their moral and physical strength and the efforts of their officers
had still kept together. They strove to establish themselves; but the
tempest, not yet subsided, dispersed the first preparations for
bivouacs. The pines, laden with frost, obstinately resisted ignition;
while the snow, which still continued to fall from the sky, and that on
the ground, which melted with the effect of the first heat, extinguished
their kindling fires, and, with them, the strength and spirits of the
men.

When at length the flames gained the ascendancy, the officers and
soldiers around them commenced preparing their wretched repast: it
consisted of lean and ragged pieces of flesh torn from the horses that
had given out, and at most a few spoonfuls of rye flour mixed with
snow-water. The next morning circular ranges of soldiers extended
lifeless marked the sites of the bivouacs, and the ground about them was
strewed with the bodies of several thousand horses.

From that day we began to place less reliance on one another. In that
vivacious army, susceptible of all impressions, and taught to reason by
an advanced civilization, despondency and neglect of discipline rapidly
spread, the imagination knowing no bounds in evil any more than in good.
Henceforward, at every bivouac, at every difficult passage, nay, every
moment, some portion separated from the yet organized lines and fell
into disorder. There were some, however, who were proof against this
widespread contagion of insubordination and despair. These were
officers, non-commissioned officers, and the firmest among the soldiers.
They were extraordinary men; they encouraged one another by repeating
the name of Smolensk, which town they knew they were approaching, and
where they had been promised that all their wants should be supplied.

It was thus, after this deluge of snow, and the increase of cold which
it foreboded, that each one, whether officer or soldier, either
preserved or lost his fortitude, according to his disposition, age, or
constitution; while he who of all our leaders had hitherto been the most
strict in enforcing discipline, now paid but little attention to it.
Thrown out of his established ideas of regularity, order, and method, he
was seized with despair at the sight of such universal confusion: and
conceiving, before the rest, that all was lost, he felt himself ready to
abandon all.

From this point for some distance, nothing remarkable occurred in the
imperial column except that it was found necessary to throw the spoils
of Moscow into the Lake of Semlewo; cannon, Gothic armor, the ornaments
of the Kremlin, and the cross of Ivan the Great, were all buried in its
waters. Trophies, glory, those acquisitions to which we had sacrificed
everything, all now became a burden to us: our object was no longer to
embellish life, but to preserve it. In this vast wreck, the army, which
might be compared to a mighty ship tossed by the most tremendous of
tempests, threw without hesitation into that sea of ice and snow
everything that could burden or impede its progress.

The attitude of Napoleon was the same that he retained throughout the
whole of this dismal retreat. It was grave, silent, and resigned:
suffering much less in body than others, but far more in mind, and
brooding with speechless agony over his misfortunes. At that moment
General Charpentier sent him from Smolensk a convoy of provisions.
Bessičres wished to take possession of them; but the emperor instantly
ordered them to be forwarded to the Prince of Moskwa, saying that "those
who were fighting must eat before the rest." At the same time, he sent
word to Ney "to defend himself long enough to allow him some stay at
Smolensk, where the army should eat, rest, and be reorganized."

The Russians, however, advanced under favor of a wood and of our
forsaken carriages, whence they kept up a fire of musketry on Ney's
troops. Half of the latter, whose icy arms froze their stiffened
fingers, became discouraged; they gave way, excusing themselves by their
want of firmness on the preceding day, and fleeing because they had
before fled, which but for this, they would have considered as
impossible. But Ney, rushing in among them, seized one of their muskets,
and led them back to action, which he was himself the first to renew;
exposing his life like a private soldier, with a firelock in his hand,
the same as though he had been neither possessed of wealth, nor power,
nor consideration; in short, as if he had still everything to gain, when
in fact he had everything to lose. But, though he had again turned
soldier, he ceased not to be general: he took advantage of the ground,
supported himself against a height, and covered his approach by
occupying a palisaded house. His generals and colonels, among whom he
particularly remarked Fezenzac, strenuously seconded him; and the enemy,
who had expected to pursue, was obliged to retreat.

By this action Ney afforded the army a respite of twenty-four hours; and
it profited by it to proceed towards Smolensk. The next day, and every
succeeding day, he displayed the same heroism. Between Viazma and
Smolensk he fought ten whole days.


§ 15. Defeat and entire dissolution of Prince Eugene's corps at the
passage of the Wop.

On the 13th of November Ney was approaching that city, which he was not
to enter till the ensuing day, and had faced about to beat off the
enemy, when all at once the hills upon which he intended to support his
left were seen covered with a multitude of fugitives. In their terror,
these unfortunate wretches fell, and rolled down to where he was upon
the frozen snow, which they stained with their blood. A band of
Cossacks, which was soon perceived in the midst of them, sufficiently
accounted for this disorder. The astonished marshal, having caused this
horde of enemies to be dispersed, discovered behind it the army of
Italy, returning completely stripped, without baggage and without
cannon.

Platoff had kept it besieged, as it were, all the way from
Dorogobouje.[169] Near that town Prince Eugene had quitted the high
road, and, in order to proceed towards Witepsk, had taken that which,
two months before, had brought him from Smolensk; but the Wop, which,
when he had crossed it before, was a mere brook, and had scarcely been
noticed, he now found swollen into a river. It ran over a muddy bed, and
was bounded by two steep banks. It was found necessary to cut a passage
in these precipitous and frozen banks, and to give orders for the
demolition of the neighboring houses during the night, for the purpose
of building a bridge with the materials. But those who had taken shelter
in them opposed their being destroyed; and, as the viceroy was more
beloved than feared, his instructions were not obeyed. The
bridge-builders became disheartened, and when daylight, with the
Cossacks, appeared, the bridge, after being twice broken down, was at
last abandoned.

Five or six thousand soldiers still in order, twice the number of
disbanded men, the sick and wounded, upward of a hundred pieces of
cannon, ammunition-wagons, and a multitude of vehicles of every kind,
lined the bank and covered a league of ground. An attempt was made to
ford the river through the floating ice which was carried along by its
current. The first guns that were attempted to be got over reached the
opposite bank; but the water kept rising every moment, while at the same
time the bed of the stream at the place of passage was continually
deepened by the wheels and by the efforts of the horses. One carriage
stuck fast, others did the same, and at length the stoppage became
general.

Meanwhile the day was advancing; the men were exhausting themselves in
vain efforts: hunger, cold, and the Cossacks became pressing, and the
viceroy finally found himself compelled to order his artillery and all
his baggage to be left behind. A distressing spectacle ensued. The
owners were allowed scarcely a moment to part from their effects: while
they were selecting from them such articles as they most needed, and
loading their horses with them, a multitude of soldiers came rushing up:
they fell in preference upon the vehicles of luxury; these they broke in
pieces and rummaged every part, avenging their poverty on the wealth,
and their privations on the superfluities they here found, and snatching
them from the Cossacks, who were in the meantime looking on at a
distance.

But it was provisions of which most of them were in quest. They threw
aside embroidered clothes, pictures, ornaments of every kind, and gilt
bronzes for a few handfuls of flour. In the evening it was a strange
sight to behold the mingled riches of Paris and of Moscow, the luxuries
of two of the largest cities in the world, lying scattered and despised
on the snow of the desert.

At the same time, most of the artillerymen spiked their guns in despair,
and scattered their powder about. Others laid a train with it as far as
some ammunition-wagons, which had been left at a considerable distance
behind our baggage. They waited till the most eager of the Cossacks had
come up to them, and when a great number, greedy of plunder, had
collected about them, they threw a brand from a bivouac upon the train.
The fire ran, and in a moment reached its destination; the wagons were
blown up, the shells exploded, and such of the Cossacks as were not
killed on the spot dispersed in dismay.

The army of Italy, thus completely dismantled, soaked in the waters of
the Wop, without food, without shelter, passed the night on the snow
near a village where its officers expected to find lodgings for
themselves. Their soldiers, however, beset its wooden houses. They
rushed like madmen, and in swarms, on every habitation, profiting by the
darkness, which prevented them from recognizing their officers or being
known by them. They tore down everything, doors, windows, and even the
woodwork of the roofs, feeling but little compunction in compelling
others, be they who they might, to bivouac like themselves.

Their generals attempted in vain to drive them off: they took their
blows without a murmur or the least opposition, but without
desisting--even the men of the royal and imperial guards; for,
throughout the whole army, such were the scenes that occurred every
night. The unfortunate fellows kept silently but actively at work on the
wooden walls, which they pulled in pieces on every side at once, and
which, after vain efforts, their officers were obliged to relinquish to
them, for fear they would fall upon their own heads. It was an
extraordinary mixture of perseverance in their design and of respect for
the anger of their superiors.

Having kindled good fires, they spent the night in drying themselves,
amid the shouts, imprecations, and groans of those who were still
crossing the torrent, or who, slipping from its banks, were precipitated
into it and drowned.


§ 16. The Grand Army reaches Smolensk.

At length the army once more came in sight of Smolensk: it had reached
the goal so often announced to it of all its sufferings. The soldiers
exultingly pointed it out to each other. There was that land of promise
where their hunger was to find abundance, their fatigue rest; where
bivouacs in a cold of nineteen degrees would be forgotten in houses
warmed by good fires. There they would enjoy refreshing sleep; there
they might repair their apparel; there they would be furnished with new
shoes, and clothing adapted to the climate.

At this sight, the corps of picked men, the veteran regiments, and a few
other soldiers alone kept their ranks; the rest ran forward with all
possible speed. Thousands of men, chiefly unarmed, covered the two steep
banks of the Borysthenes: they crowded in masses around the lofty walls
and gates of the city; but this disorderly multitude, with their haggard
faces begrimed with dirt and smoke, their tattered uniforms, and the
grotesque habiliments which they had substituted in place of them: in
short, with their strange, hideous looks, and their impetuous ardor,
excited alarm. It was believed, that if the irruption of this crowd,
maddened with hunger, were not repelled, that a general pillage would be
the consequence, and the gates were closed against it.

It was also hoped that by exercising this rigor these men would be
forced again to rally about their standards. A horrible struggle between
order and disorder now commenced in the remnant of this unfortunate
army. In vain did they entreat, weep, threaten, strive to burst open the
gates, and even drop down dead at the feet of their comrades placed to
repel them; they found the latter inexorable, and were forced to wait
the arrival of the first troops that were still officered and in order.

These were the Old and the Young Guard; and it was not till after them
that the disbanded men were allowed to enter: the latter, and the other
corps which arrived in succession, from the 8th to the 14th, believed
that their admission had been delayed merely to give more rest and more
provisions to this favored guard. Their sufferings rendered them unjust:
they execrated it. "Were they, then, to be forever sacrificed to this
privileged class; fellows kept for mere parade, who were never foremost
but at reviews, festivals, and distributions? Was the army to put up
with their leavings, always to wait till they had glutted themselves?"
It was useless to tell them in reply, that to attempt to save all was
the way to lose all; that it was necessary to keep at least one corps
entire, and to give the preference to that which in the last extremity
would be capable of making the most powerful effort.

At length these poor creatures were admitted into that Smolensk for
which they had so long ardently wished, while the banks of the
Borysthenes were strewed with their expiring companions, the weakest of
whom impatience and several hours' waiting had brought to that state.
Others, again, were left on the icy steep, which they had to climb to
reach the upper town. The rest ran to the magazines, where many fell
exhausted while they beset the doors; for here also they were repulsed.
"Who were they?" it was asked. "To what corps did they belong? What had
they to prove it? The persons appointed to distribute the provisions
were responsible for them: they had orders to deliver them only to
authorized officers bringing receipts, for which alone they could
exchange the rations committed to their care." These poor famished
creatures had no officers, nor could they tell where their regiments
were: two-thirds of the army were in this predicament.

These miserable men then dispersed themselves through the streets,
having no longer any hope but in pillage. But horses dissected to the
very bones everywhere denoted a famine; the doors and windows of the
houses had been all broken and torn away to feed the fires of the
bivouacs; they found no shelter in them, no winter quarters prepared, no
wood. The sick and wounded were left in the streets, in the carts which
had brought them. It was again, it was always the same fatal high road,
passing through a town which was but an empty name: it was a new bivouac
among deceitful ruins, colder even than the forests they had just
quitted.

Then only did these disorganized troops seek their colors: they rejoined
them for a moment in order to obtain food; but all the bread that could
be baked had been distributed; and there was no biscuit, no butcher's
meat. Rye flour, dry vegetables, and spirits were dealt out to them. It
required the most strenuous efforts to prevent the detachments of the
different corps from murdering each other at the doors of the magazines;
and when, after long formalities, their wretched fare was at last
delivered to them, the soldiers refused to carry it to their regiments;
they fell upon their sacks, snatched out of them a few pounds of flour,
and ran to secrete themselves till they had devoured it. The same was
the case with the spirits; and the next day the houses were found full
of the bodies of these miserable creatures.

In short, that Smolensk, which the army had looked forward to, as the
term of their sufferings, marked, as it were, only their commencement.
Inexpressible hardships still awaited us: we had yet to march forty days
under that yoke of iron. Some, already borne down by present miseries,
sank under the frightful prospect of those which were before them.
Others sternly resolved to battle with their destiny; and, finding they
had nothing to rely on but themselves, they determined to live at all
hazards.

Thenceforward, according as they found themselves the stronger or the
weaker, by violence or stealth they plundered their companions of their
subsistence, of their garments, and of the gold with which they had
filled their knapsacks instead of provisions. These wretches, whom
despair had thus made robbers, then threw away their arms to save their
infamous booty, profiting by the general confusion, an obscure name, a
uniform no longer distinguishable, and night: in short, by every kind of
concealment favorable to cowardice and guilt. If works already published
had not exaggerated these horrors, I should have passed over in silence
such terrible details; for atrocities so extreme were, after all,
comparatively rare, and justice was dealt to the most criminal.

On the 9th of November the emperor arrived amid this scene of
desolation. He shut himself up in one of the houses in the new square,
and never quitted it till the 14th to resume his retreat. He had
calculated upon fifteen days' provisions and forage for an army of one
hundred thousand men; but there was not more than half this quantity of
flour, rice, and spirits, and no meat at all. Cries of rage were now
directed against the principal individual appointed to provide these
supplies; and the commissary saved his life only by prostrating himself
on his knees at the feet of Napoleon, and remaining in that posture for
a long time. But the reasons which he assigned for his failure did more
for him than his supplications.

Many of these reasons were well founded. A chain of other magazines had
been formed from Smolensk to Minsk and Wilna. These two towns were, in a
still greater degree than Smolensk, centres of provisioning, of which
the fortresses of the Vistula formed the first line. The total quantity
of provisions, indeed, distributed over this space was incalculable; the
efforts for transporting them thither had been gigantic; while the
result was little better than nothing. Scattered over such a vast
extent, immense as they were, they were found wholly insufficient.

Thus great expeditions are crushed by their own weight. Human limits had
been surpassed: the genius of Napoleon, in attempting to soar above
time, climate, and distance, had, as it were, lost itself in space;
great as was its measure, it had gone beyond it.

Napoleon had been at Smolensk for five days. It was known that Ney had
received orders to arrive there as late as possible, and Eugene to halt
for two days at a point near Smolensk. Then it was not the necessity of
waiting for the army of Italy which detained him! To what, then, must we
attribute this delay, in the midst of famine, disease, and when the
winter and three hostile armies were gradually surrounding us?

The emperor no doubt fancied that by dating his despatches for five days
from that city, he would give to his disorderly flight the appearance of
a slow and glorious retreat. In the same spirit, no doubt, he had
ordered the destruction of the towers which surrounded Smolensk, from
the wish, as he expressed it, of not being again stopped short by its
walls! as if there were any idea of our returning to a place which we
were not even sure that we should ever get out of.

The emperor, however, made an effort that was not altogether fruitless.
This was to rally under one commander all that remained of the cavalry;
when it was found that of this force, thirty-seven thousand strong at
the passage of the Niemen, there now remained only eight hundred men on
horseback. He gave the command of these to Latour-Maubourg; and, whether
from the esteem felt for him, or from the general indifference, no one
objected to it.

This army, which left Moscow one hundred thousand strong, in
five-and-twenty days had been reduced to thirty-six thousand men, while
the artillery had lost three hundred and fifty of their cannon; and yet
these feeble remains continued as before to be divided into eight
armies, which were encumbered with sixty thousand unarmed stragglers,
and a long train of cannon and baggage.

Whether it was the encumbrance of so many men and carriages, or a
mistaken sense of security, which led the emperor to order a day's
interval between the departure of each marshal, is uncertain; but most
probably it was the latter. Be that, however, as it may, he, Eugene,
Davoust, and Ney, quitted Smolensk in succession; and Ney was not to
leave it till the 16th or 17th. He had orders to make the artillery
dismount the cannon left behind, and bury them; to destroy the
ammunition, to drive all the stragglers before him, and to blow up the
towers which surrounded the city.

Kutusoff, meanwhile, was waiting for us at some leagues' distance,
prepared to cut in pieces, one after the other, those remnants of corps
thus extended and parcelled out.


§ 17. Napoleon leaves Smolensk; battle of Krasnoë.

It was on the 14th of November, about five in the morning, that the
imperial column at last quitted Smolensk. Its march was still firm, but
gloomy and silent as night, like the mute and sombre aspect of the
country through which it was advancing.

This stillness was only interrupted by the cracking of the whips applied
to the horses, and by short and violent imprecations when they met with
ravines, and when down these icy declivities, men, horses, and artillery
were rolling in the darkness one over the other. The first day they
advanced five leagues, and the artillery of the guard took twenty-two
hours to get over that distance.

Kutusoff, at the same time, with the bulk of his army, moved forward,
and took a position in the rear of these advanced corps, within reach of
them all, felicitating himself on the success of his manoeuvres, which,
after all, would inevitably have failed, owing to his tardiness, had it
not been for our want of foresight; for this was a contest of errors, in
which, ours being the greatest, we narrowly escaped total destruction.
Having made these dispositions, the Russian commander must have believed
that the French army was entirely in his power; but this belief saved
us. Kutusoff was wanting to himself at the moment of action; his old age
executed only half, and that badly, the plans which it had wisely
combined.

During the time that all these masses were arranging themselves round
Napoleon, he remained perfectly tranquil in a miserable hut, the only
one left standing in Korythnia, apparently quite unconscious of all
these movements of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, which were
surrounding him in all directions; at least he sent no orders to the
three corps which had halted at Smolensk, to expedite their march, and
he himself waited for daylight to proceed.

His column was advancing without precaution, preceded by a crowd of
stragglers, all eager to reach Krasnoë, when, at two leagues from that
place, a line of Cossacks, extending from the heights on our left across
the great road, appeared before them. Seized with astonishment, these
stragglers instantly halted: they had looked for nothing of the kind,
and with their first impressions were led to believe that relentless
fate had traced upon the snow between them and Europe that long, black,
and motionless line as the fatal term assigned to their hopes.

Suddenly a Russian battery began firing. Their balls crossed the road.
The German corps became confused and made no attempt to meet this
attack. But a wounded officer who chanced to be there assumed the
command of the Germans, and the men obeyed him as if he had been their
rightful leader. On seeing this advanced column of Germans march forward
in such good order, the enemy confined himself to attacking it with his
artillery, which it disregarded and soon left behind. When it came to
the turn of the Old Guard to pass through this fire, they closed their
ranks around Napoleon like a movable fortress, proud of the honor of
protecting him. Their band of music expressed their satisfaction. When
the danger was greatest, it played the well-known air, "_Where can one
be happier than in the bosom of his family?_" But the emperor, whom
nothing escaped, stopped them with the exclamation, "Rather play, '_Let
us watch for the safety of the empire!_'" words much better suited to
the feelings which then occupied him, and to the general condition of
affairs.

At the same time, the enemy's fire becoming troublesome, he gave orders
to silence it, and in two hours he reached Krasnoë.

On the 17th, before daylight, Napoleon issued his orders, armed himself,
and going out on foot at the head of his Old Guard, began his march. But
it was not towards Poland, his ally, that he directed it, nor towards
France, where he would still be received as the head of a new dynasty,
and the Emperor of the West. His words on grasping his sword on this
occasion were, "I have sufficiently acted the emperor; it is time I
should become the general." He turned back upon eighty thousand of the
enemy, plunging into the thickest of them, in order to draw all their
efforts against himself, to make a diversion in favor of Davoust and
Ney, and to rescue them from a country, the gates of which were closed
against them.

Daylight at last appeared, exhibiting on the one part the Russian
battalions and batteries, which on three sides, in front, on our right,
and in our rear, bounded the horizon, and on the other Napoleon, with
his six thousand guards, advancing with a firm step, and proceeding to
take his place in the centre of that terrible circle. At the same time,
Mortier, a few yards in front of the emperor, deployed,[170] in the face
of the whole Russian army, with the five thousand men still remaining to
him.

Here, then, it was made evident that renown is something more than a
vain shadow, that it is real strength, and doubly powerful from the
inflexible pride which it imparts to its favorites, and the timid
precautions it imposes on those who venture to attack it. The enemy had
only to march forward without manoeuvring, or even firing; their mass
alone was sufficient to crush Napoleon with all his feeble battalions;
still they did not dare come to close quarters with him. They were awed
at the presence of the conqueror of Egypt and of Europe. The Pyramids,
Marengo, Austerlitz, Friedland, a host of victories seemed to rise
between him and the astounded Russians. Might we not also fancy that, in
the eyes of that passive and superstitious people, a renown so
extraordinary appeared like something supernatural? that they regarded
it as wholly beyond their power, or, at least, believed that they could
safely assail it only from a distance? and, in short, that against that
Old Guard, that living fortress, that column of granite, as it had been
called by its leader, human efforts were impotent, or that cannon alone
could demolish it?

But every moment strengthened the enemy and weakened Napoleon. The noise
of artillery, as well as Claparčde, apprised him that in the rear of
Krasnoë and his army Beningsen was proceeding to take possession of the
road to Liady, and entirely cut off his retreat. The east, the west, and
the south were flashing with the enemy's fires; one side alone remained
open, that of the north and the Dnieper, towards an eminence, at the
foot of which were the high road and the emperor. We fancied we saw the
enemy already covering this eminence with his cannon. In that situation
they would have been just over Napoleon's head, and might have crushed
him at a few yards' distance. He was apprised of his danger, cast his
eyes for an instant towards the height, and uttered merely these words,
"Very well, let one of my battalions take possession of it." Immediately
afterward, without giving farther heed to it, his whole attention was
directed to the perilous situation of Mortier.

Fortunately, some troops which Davoust had rallied and the appearance of
another troop of his stragglers, attracted the enemy's attention.
Mortier availed himself of it. He gave orders to the three thousand men
he had still remaining to retreat slowly in the face of their fifty
thousand enemies. "Do you hear, soldiers?" cried General Laborde, "the
marshal orders ordinary time! Ordinary time, soldiers!" And this brave
and unfortunate troop, dragging with them some of their wounded, under a
shower of balls and grape-shot, retired as deliberately from this field
of carnage as they would have done from a field of manoeuvre.


§ 18. Napoleon reaches Dombrowna and Orcha; he holds a council.

As soon as Mortier had succeeded in placing Krasnoë between him and
Beningsen, he was in safety.

The next day the march was resumed, though with reluctance. The
impatient stragglers took the lead, and all of them got the start of
Napoleon: he was on foot with a stick in his hand, walking slowly and
hesitatingly, and halting every quarter of an hour, as if unwilling to
tear himself away from that old Russia, whose frontier he was then
passing, and in which he had left his unfortunate companions in arms.

In the evening he reached Dombrowna,[171] a wooden town, and inhabited
as well as Liady: a novel sight for an army, which had for three months
seen nothing but ruins. At last, then, we had emerged from Russia
proper, and her deserts of snow and ashes, and were entering into a
friendly and inhabited country, whose language we understood. The
weather just then became milder, a thaw began, and we received some
provisions.

Thus the winter, the enemy, solitude, and, with some, famine and
bivouacs, all ceased at once; but it was too late. The emperor saw that
his army was destroyed: every moment the name of Ney escaped from his
lips, with expressions of the deepest grief. That night he was heard
groaning and exclaiming "that the misery of his poor soldiers cut him to
the heart, and yet that he could not succor them without establishing
himself in some place: but where was it possible for him to stop without
ammunition, provisions, or artillery? He was no longer strong enough to
halt: he must reach Minsk as quickly as possible."

He had scarcely spoken the words, when a Polish officer arrived with the
news that Minsk itself, his magazine, his retreat, his only hope, had
just fallen into the hands of the Russians, Tchitchakoff having entered
it on the 16th. Napoleon at first was mute, and completely overpowered
by this last blow; but immediately afterward, elevating himself in
proportion to his danger, he coolly replied, "Very well! we have now
nothing to do but to clear ourselves a passage with our bayonets."

Napoleon then turned to his Old Guard, and, stopping in front of each
battalion, "Grenadiers!"[172] said he, to them, "we are retreating
without being conquered by the enemy; let us not be vanquished by
ourselves! Set an example to the army. Several of you have already
deserted your colors, and even thrown away your arms. I have no wish to
have recourse to military laws to put a stop to this disorder, but
appeal entirely to your sense of duty. Do justice to yourselves. To your
own honor I commit the maintenance of your discipline!"

The other troops he addressed in a similar style. These few words were
quite sufficient to the old grenadiers, who probably had no occasion for
them. The others received them with acclamations; but an hour afterward,
when the march was resumed, they were entirely forgotten. As to his rear
guard, throwing the blame of this wild alarm mostly upon it, he sent an
angry message to Davoust on the subject.

At Orcha we found rather an abundant supply of provisions, a bridge
equipage of sixty boats, with all its appurtenances, which we burned,
and thirty-six pieces of cannon, with their horses, which were
distributed between Davoust, Eugene, and Latour-Maubourg.

Napoleon entered Orcha with six thousand guards, the remains of
thirty-five thousand! Eugene, with eighteen hundred soldiers, the
remains of forty-two thousand! and Davoust, with four thousand, the
remains of seventy thousand!

This marshal had lost everything, was actually without linen, and
emaciated with hunger. He seized upon a loaf, which was offered him by
one of his comrades, and voraciously devoured it. A handkerchief was
given him to wipe his face, which was white with frost. He exclaimed
"that none but men with constitutions of iron could support such trials;
that it was physically impossible to resist them; that there were limits
to human strength, the utmost of which had been exceeded."

The emperor made fruitless efforts to check this general despondency.
When alone, he was heard compassionating the sufferings of his soldiers;
but in their presence, even upon that point, he wished to appear
inflexible. He issued a proclamation, "ordering all who had deserted
their ranks to return to them: if they did not, he would strip the
officers of their commissions, and the soldiers should be shot."

A threat like this produced no impression whatever upon men who had
become insensible, or were reduced to despair, fleeing not from danger,
but from suffering, and caring as little for the death with which they
were menaced as for the life that was offered them.

But Napoleon's confidence increased with his perils: in his eyes, this
handful of men, in these deserts of snow and ice, was still the Grand
Army! and himself the conqueror of Europe! nor was there any affectation
in this firmness: we were certain of it, when in this very town, we saw
him burn, with his own hands, everything belonging to him that might
serve as a trophy to the enemy, in the event of his fall.

But everything was now changed: two hostile armies were opposing his
retreat; and the question to be decided was, through which of them he
should cut his way. As he knew nothing of the Lithuanian forests into
which he was about penetrating, he summoned such of his officers as had
been through them, in order to obtain information.

The emperor began by remarking that "too great familiarity with victory
was often the precursor of great disasters, but that recrimination was
now out of the question." He then mentioned the capture of Minsk, and,
admitting the skilfulness of Kutusoff's persevering manoeuvres on the
right flank, he said that "it was his intention to abandon his line of
operations on Minsk, unite with the Dukes of Belluno and Reggio, cut his
way through Wittgenstein's army, and regain Wilna by turning the sources
of the Berezina." Jomini combated this plan.

Finally Napoleon decided upon Borizoff.[173] But he said, "that it was
cruel to retreat without fighting, to present the appearance of flight.
Had he only a magazine, some point of support which would allow him to
halt, he would prove to Europe that he still knew how to fight and how
to conquer."

All these were mere illusions. At Smolensk, where he arrived first, and
from which he was the first to depart, he had rather been informed of
his disasters than witnessed them himself. At Krasnoë, where our
miseries had been more fully unfolded before him, the peril by which we
were surrounded had diverted his attention from them; but at Orcha he
could contemplate, at one view and leisurely, the whole extent of his
misfortunes.

At Smolensk, thirty-six thousand combatants, one hundred and fifty
cannon, the army-chest, and the hope of life, and of breathing at
liberty on the other side of the Berezina, still remained; here there
were scarcely ten thousand soldiers, almost without clothing or shoes,
entangled amid a crowd of dying men, with but a few cannon, and a
plundered army-chest.


§ 19. Arrival of Marshal Ney.

Being at length, on the 20th of November, compelled to quit Orcha, he
left there Eugene, Mortier, and Davoust, and halted after a march of six
miles from that place, still inquiring for Marshal Ney, who was
advancing by a different route, and still expecting him. The same
feeling of grief pervaded the portion of the army remaining at Orcha. As
soon as the most pressing wants allowed a moment's rest, the thoughts
and looks of every one were directed towards the Russian bank. They
listened for any warlike sounds which might announce the arrival of Ney,
or, rather, his last desperate struggle with the foe; but nothing was to
be seen but parties of the enemy, who were already menacing the bridges
of the Borysthenes.

After exhausting all their conjectures, they had relapsed into a gloomy
silence, when suddenly they heard the steps of horses, and then the
joyful cry, "Marshal Ney is safe! here are some Polish cavalry come to
announce his approach!" One of his officers now galloped in, and
informed them that the marshal was advancing on the right bank of the
Borysthenes, and had sent him to ask for assistance.

When the two corps, Eugene's and Ney's, fairly recognized each other,
they could no longer be kept in their ranks. Soldiers, officers,
generals, all rushed forward together. The soldiers of Eugene, eagerly
grasping the hands of those of Ney, held them with a joyful mixture of
astonishment and curiosity, and embraced them with the tenderest
sympathy. They lavished upon them the refreshments and brandy which they
had just received, and overwhelmed them with questions. Then they
proceeded in company towards Orcha, all burning with impatience,
Eugene's soldiers to hear, and Ney's to relate, their story.

The officers of Ney stated that on the 17th of November they had quitted
Smolensk with twelve cannon, six thousand infantry, and three hundred
cavalry, leaving there five thousand sick to the mercy of the enemy; and
that, had it not been for the noise of Platoff's artillery and the
explosion of the mines, their marshal would never have been able to draw
from the ruins of that city seven thousand unarmed stragglers who had
taken shelter among them. They dwelt upon the attentions which their
leader had shown to the wounded, and to the women and their children,
proving upon this occasion that the bravest are also the most humane.

At the gates of the city an unnatural action struck them with a horror
that they still felt in all its force. A mother abandoned her little
son, only five years old: in spite of his cries and tears, she drove him
away from her sledge, which was too heavily laden. She exclaimed, at the
same time, with a distracted air, that "_he_ had never seen France! _he_
would not regret it! but _she_ knew France! _she_ was resolved to see
France once more!" Twice did Ney himself replace the unfortunate child
in the arms of his mother, and twice did she cast him from her on the
frozen snow.

This solitary crime, amid a thousand instances of the most devoted and
sublime tenderness, they did not leave unpunished. The unnatural parent
was herself abandoned to the snow from which her infant was snatched,
and intrusted to another mother: this little orphan was then in their
ranks; he was afterward seen at the Berezina, then at Wilna, again at
Kowno, and finally escaped from all the horrors of the retreat.

Frustrated in his plans Ney instead of advancing to join Napoleon was
compelled to order his men to return towards Smolensk. At these words
they were struck motionless with astonishment. Even his aid-de-camp
could not believe his ears: he remained silent, like one who does not
comprehend what he hears, and looked at his general in amazement. But
the marshal briefly repeating the same order in a still more imperative
tone, they were no longer at any loss, but all recognized in it
resolution taken, a resource discovered, that self-confidence which
inspires others with the same feeling, and a spirit which rises superior
to its situation, however perilous it may be. They instantly obeyed,
and, without the slightest hesitation, turned their backs on their own
army, on the emperor, and on France. Once more they returned into that
fatal Russia. Their retrograde march had lasted an hour: again they came
to the field of battle marked by the remains of the army of Italy; there
they halted, and the marshal, who had remained with the rear guard, then
joined them.

Their eyes followed all his movements. What did he intend doing? and,
whatever might be his plan, where would he direct his steps, without a
guide, in an unknown country? But, while they were thus perplexing
themselves, he, with his warlike instinct, had halted on the edge of a
ravine of such depth as to make it evident that there was a stream at
the bottom of it. By clearing away the snow and breaking the ice, this
fact was soon established: and then, consulting his map, he exclaimed,
"This is one of the streams which flow into the Dnieper: this must be
our guide, and we must follow it; it will lead us to that river, which
we must cross, and on the other side we shall be safe." Accordingly, he
immediately proceeded in that direction.

A lame peasant was the only inhabitant they could discover; but even
this was an unlooked-for piece of good fortune. He told them that they
were within the distance of a league from the Dnieper, but that it was
not fordable there, and could not yet be frozen over. "It must be so,"
the marshal remarked; but when he was reminded that a thaw had just
commenced, he added, "it does not signify; we must pass, as there is no
other resource."

At last at about eight o'clock, after passing through a village, they
soon came to the termination of the ravine, and the Russian, who walked
before, halted and pointed out to them the river.

Finally, about midnight, the passage began; but the first persons who
ventured on the ice called out that it was bending under them, that it
was sinking, that they were up to their knees in water; and immediately
after that frail support was heard cracking and splitting, as in the
breaking up of a frost. All halted in consternation.

Ney ordered them to pass only one at a time: they proceeded with
caution, not knowing sometimes in the dark whether they were placing
their feet on the ice or into a chasm; for there were places where they
were obliged to clear large fissures, and jump from one piece to
another, at the risk of falling between them and disappearing forever.
The first hesitated, but those who were behind kept calling to them to
make more haste.

When at last, after several of these dreadful panics, they reached the
opposite bank and fancied themselves safe, a perpendicular steep,
slippery as glass, opposed their landing, and many were again thrown
back upon the ice, either bruised by it, or breaking it in their fall.
It would seem, indeed, as though this Russian river and its banks had
contributed with regret, by surprise, and by compulsion, as it were, to
their escape.

But what they spoke of as being the most painful of all, were the
trouble and distraction of the females and of the sick, when it became
necessary for them to abandon, along with the baggage, the remains of
their fortune, their provisions, and, in short, all their resources both
for the present and the future. They were seen stripping themselves,
selecting, throwing away, taking up again, and falling at length through
exhaustion and grief upon the frozen bank of the river. The narrators
appeared to shudder again at the recollection of the horrible sight of
so many men scattered over that abyss, of the continual noise of persons
falling, of the cries of such as sank in, and, above all, of the wailing
and despair of the wounded, who, from their carts, which could not be
trusted to this weak support, stretched out their hands to their
companions, and entreated them not to leave them behind.

Their leader at length determined to attempt the passage of several
wagons, loaded with these poor creatures; but in the middle of the
stream the ice sank down and separated. Then were heard proceeding from
the gulf, first cries of anguish long and piercing, then stifled and
feeble groans, quickly succeeded by an awful silence. All had
disappeared!

But at length Ney had succeeded in reaching Orcha; from this time
forward he was the hero of the retreat.

When Napoleon, who was two leagues farther on, heard that Ney had again
made his appearance, he leaped and shouted for joy, exclaiming, "Then I
have saved my honor! I would have given three hundred millions from my
exchequer sooner than have lost such a man."


§ 20. Capture of Minsk by the Russians.

The army had thus for the third and last time repassed the Dnieper, a
river half Russian and half Polish, but having its source in Russia. It
runs from east to west as far as Orcha, where it appears as if it would
penetrate into Poland; but there the high lands of Lithuania oppose its
farther progress, and compel it to turn abruptly towards the south, and
to become the frontier of the two countries.

Kutusoff and his eighty thousand Russians halted before this feeble
obstacle. Hitherto they had been rather the spectators than the authors
of our calamities; but from this time we saw them no more, and were at
last delivered from the punishment of their joy.

On the 22d of November the army had a disagreeable march from Orcha to
Borizoff, on a wide road skirted by a double row of large birch-trees,
the snow having melted, and the mud being very deep. The weakest here
found their graves; and those of our wounded who, in expectation of a
continuance of the frost, had exchanged their wagons for sleighs, were
left behind, and fell into the hands of the Cossacks.

It was during the early part of the march to Borizoff that the news of
the fall of Minsk[174] became generally known in the army. The leaders
themselves now began to look around them with consternation; and, after
witnessing such a succession of frightful spectacles their imagination
depicted a still more fatal futurity. In their private conversation they
did not hesitate to say that, "like Charles XII. in Russia, Napoleon had
carried his army to Moscow only to destroy it."

Deploring, then, the rash obstinacy of the stay at Moscow, and the fatal
hesitation at Malo-jaroslavetz, they proceeded to reckon up their
losses. Since their departure from Moscow they had lost all their
baggage, five hundred cannon, thirty-one standards, twenty-seven
generals, forty thousand prisoners, and sixty thousand dead: all that
remained were forty thousand unarmed stragglers and eight thousand
effective soldiers.

With respect to the loss of Minsk the governor of that place had been
negligently chosen. He was, it was said, one of those men who undertake
everything, who promise everything, and who do nothing. On the 16th of
November he lost that capital, and with it four thousand seven hundred
sick, the warlike stores, and two million rations of provisions. It was
five days since the news of this loss had reached Dombrowna, and the
news of a still greater calamity came on the heels of it.

This same governor had retreated towards Borizoff. There he neglected to
inform Oudinot, who was only at the distance of two marches, to come to
his assistance; and failed to support Dombrowski, who made a hasty march
thither: the result was that the latter was overpowered by the fire of
the Russian artillery, which took him in flank, and, attacked by a force
more than double his own, he was driven across the river, and out of the
town as far as the Moscow road.

This disaster was wholly unexpected by Napoleon. Finally, when the
emperor learned at Dombrowna the loss of Minsk, he had no suspicion that
Borizoff was in such imminent danger, as when he passed the next day
through Orcha he had the whole of his bridge-equipage burned.

It was on the day immediately subsequent to that fatal catastrophe, at
the distance of three marches from Borizoff, and upon the high road,
that an officer arrived and announced to Napoleon this fresh disaster.
The emperor, striking the ground with his stick, and casting a furious
look to heaven, pronounced these words: "Is it, then, written above that
we shall now commit nothing but faults?"

Meanwhile Marshal Oudinot, who was already marching towards Minsk,
totally ignorant of what had happened, halted on the 21st. In the middle
of the night General Brownkowski arrived to announce to him his own
defeat, as well as that of General Dombrowski;[175] that Borizoff was
taken, and that the Russians were following close at his heels.

In fact, every disaster which Napoleon could anticipate had occurred;
the melancholy conformity, therefore, of his situation with that of the
Swedish conqueror, threw his mind into such a state of agitation that
his health became still more seriously affected than it had been at
Malo-jaroslavetz. Among the expressions he made use of, loud enough to
be overheard, was this: "See what happens when we heap faults on
faults!"

His orders, however, displayed decision. Oudinot had just sent to inform
him of his determination to overthrow Lambert: this he approved of, and
he also urged him to make himself master of a passage across the
Berezina, either above or below Borizoff. He was desirous that by the
24th the place for this passage should be fixed on and the preparations
begun, and that he should be apprised of it, in order to make his march
correspond. Far from thinking of making his escape through the midst of
these three hostile armies, his only idea now was to beat Tchitchakoff
and retake Minsk.

It is true that, eight hours afterward, in a second letter to the Duke
of Reggio, he resigned himself to crossing the Berezina near Veselowo,
and by retreating directly upon Wilna, by Vileika, to avoid the Russian
admiral.

But on the 24th he learned that the passage could only be attempted near
Studzianka; that at that spot the river was only fifty-four fathoms
wide, and six feet deep; and that they would land on the opposite side
in a marsh, under the fire of a commanding position strongly occupied by
the enemy.


§ 21. March through the forest of Minsk; passage of the Berezina.

All hope of passing between the Russian armies was thus lost: driven by
the armies of Kutusoff and Wittgenstein upon the Berezina, there was no
alternative but to cross that river in the teeth of the army of
Tchitchakoff, which lined its banks.

After having made his preparations, Napoleon plunged into the gloomy and
immense forest of Minsk, in which there was only here and there an open
spot surrounding some wretched hamlet or single habitation. The noise of
Wittgenstein's artillery filled it with its echoes. The Russian general
came rushing from the north upon the right flank of our expiring column,
and he brought back with him the winter which had quitted us at the
same time with Kutusoff. The news of his threatening march accelerated
our steps, and our motley array of from forty to fifty thousand men,
women, and children hurried through the forest as rapidly as their
weakness and the slipperiness of the ground, from the frost again
setting in, would allow.

These forced marches, commenced before daylight, and not terminating
until after its close, dispersed all who had previously been together.
They lost themselves in the double darkness of the forest and of the
night. They halted in the evening, and resumed their march in the
morning, in obscurity, at random, and without hearing the signal: the
dissolution of the remains of the corps was now completed; all were
mixed and confounded together.

In this last stage of helplessness and confusion, as we were approaching
Borizoff, we heard loud cries before us. Some rushed forward, fancying
it was an attack. It was Victor's army, which had been feebly driven
back by Wittgenstein to the right side of our road, where it remained
waiting for us. Still, quite complete and full of animation, it received
the emperor, as soon as he made his appearance, with the customary but
now long-forgotten acclamations.

Of our disasters it had heard nothing: they had been carefully concealed
even from its leaders. When, therefore, instead of that grand column
which had conquered Moscow, its soldiers perceived behind Napoleon only
a train of spectres covered with tattered vestments of every kind,
women's pelisses, pieces of carpet, or dirty cloaks, half burned and
riddled by the fires, and with nothing but rags on their feet, their
consternation was extreme. They seemed terrified at the sight of those
unfortunate soldiers, as they defiled before them, with emaciated
frames, faces black with dirt, and hideous bristly beards, unarmed,
shameless, marching confusedly, with their heads bent, and their eyes
fixed on the ground and silent, like a troop of captives.

But what astonished them more than all was to see the number of generals
and officers of every grade, scattered about and insulated, seemingly
only occupied about themselves, and thinking of nothing but to save the
wrecks of their property or their persons: they were marching pell-mell
with the soldiers, who did not notice them, to whom they had no longer
any commands to give, and of whom they had nothing to expect, all ties
between them being dissolved, and all distinctions of rank obliterated
by the common misery.

It was, indeed, merely the shadow of an army, but it was the shadow of
the Grand Army. It felt conscious that nature alone had vanquished it.
The presence of Napoleon animated it. To him it had long been accustomed
to look, not for its means of support, but to lead it to victory. This
was its first unfortunate campaign, and it had had so many fortunate
ones: it only required to be able to follow him. He alone who had
elevated his soldiers so high, and now sunk them so low, was yet able to
save them. He was still, therefore, cherished in the heart of his army,
like hope in the heart of man.

Thus, amid so many beings who might have reproached him with their
misfortunes, he marched on without the least fear, speaking to one and
all without affectation, certain of being respected as long as glory
could command respect. Knowing perfectly that he belonged to us as much
as we to him, his renown being, as it were, common national property,
we should have sooner turned our arms against ourselves (which was the
case with many), as being a minor suicide, than against him.

Some of the men fell and died at his feet; and, though they were in the
most frightful delirium, their sufferings never gave its wanderings the
turn of reproach, but of entreaty. And in fact, did not he share the
common danger? Who of them all risked so much as he? Who had suffered
the greatest loss in this disaster?

If any imprecations were ever uttered, it was not in his presence; for
it seemed that, of all misfortunes, that of incurring his displeasure
was still the greatest: so rooted was their confidence in, and their
submission to, that man who had subjected the world to them; whose
genius, hitherto uniformly victorious and invincible, had assumed the
place of their free-will; and who, having had so long in his hands the
book of pensions, of rank, and of history, had found wherewithal to
satisfy not only covetous spirits, but also every generous heart.

At the close of the night of the 25th of November, Napoleon made them
sink the first trestle in the muddy bed of the Berezina River. But to
crown our misfortunes, the rising of the waters had made the traces of
the ford entirely disappear. It required the most incredible efforts on
the part of our unfortunate engineers, who were plunged in the water up
to their mouths, and had to contend with the floating pieces of ice
which were carried along by the stream. Many of them perished from the
cold, or were drowned by the cakes of ice being violently driven against
them by the current and wind.

On the 27th, Napoleon, with about five thousand guards, and Ney's corps,
now reduced to six hundred men, crossed the Berezina about two o'clock
in the afternoon: he posted himself in reserve to Oudinot, and secured
the outlet from the bridges against the efforts of the Russians.

He had been preceded by a crowd of baggage and stragglers, and numbers
of them continued to cross the river after him as long as daylight
lasted.

But Partouneaux with his division was not so fortunate. At every point
where he attempted to pass, he encountered the enemy's fires, and was
obliged to turn back: in this way he wandered about for several hours
altogether at random, in plains covered with snow, in the midst of a
violent tempest. At every step he saw his soldiers pierced through by
the cold, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue, falling half dead into
the hands of the Russian cavalry, who pursued him without intermission.

This unfortunate general was still struggling with the heavens, with
men, and with his own despair, when he felt even the ground giving way
under his feet. In fact, deceived by the snow, he was marching upon a
lake, which not being frozen sufficiently hard to bear him, he had
fallen in and was on the point of being drowned, and then only did he
yield and give up his arms.

While this catastrophe was accomplishing, his other three brigades,
being more and more hemmed in upon the road, lost all power of movement.
They delayed their surrender, however, till the next morning, first by
fighting, and then by parleying: at length they all fell, one after the
other, and a common misfortune again united them with their general.

Of the whole division, a single battalion only escaped.

During the whole of that day, the 28th, the situation of the ninth corps
under General Victor, was so much the more critical, as a weak and
narrow bridge was its only means of retreat; in addition to which its
avenues were obstructed by the baggage and the stragglers. By degrees,
as the action became warmer, the terror of these poor wretches increased
their disorder. First of all they had been alarmed by the rumors of a
serious engagement; then their terror was increased by seeing the
wounded returning from it; and, last of all, they were thrown into the
utmost consternation by the batteries of the Russian left wing, some
shot from which began to fall among them.

They had been already crowding one upon the other, and the immense
multitude heaped upon the bank pell-mell with the horses and carriages,
formed there a most alarming encumbrance. It was about the middle of the
day that the first Russian balls fell into the midst of this chaos, and
they were the signal of universal despair.

Then it was, as in all cases of extremity, that the real dispositions of
men exhibited themselves without disguise, and actions were witnessed,
some of them the most base, and others the most noble and even sublime.
In accordance with their character, some furious and determined, with
sword in hand, cleared for themselves a horrible passage. Others, still
more cruel, opened a way for their wagons by driving them without mercy
over the crowds of unfortunate persons who stood in their way, and
crushed them to death. Their detestable avarice made them sacrifice
their companions in misfortune to the preservation of their baggage.
Others again, seized with a pusillanimous terror, wept, supplicated, and
sank under the influence of a passion which completed the exhaustion of
their strength. Some were observed (and these were principally the sick
and wounded) who, renouncing life, went aside, and, resigned to their
fate, sat themselves down, gazing with a fixed and motionless eye on the
snow which was shortly to be their winding-sheet.

Numbers of those who started first among this crowd of desperadoes,
missing the bridge, attempted to scale it by the sides, but the greater
part were pushed into the river. There were seen women in the midst of
the stream and among the masses of floating ice, with their children in
their arms, raising them by degrees as they felt themselves sinking, and
when completely submerged, their stiffened arms still holding them above
the water.

In the midst of this horrible disorder, the artillery bridge gave way
and broke down. The column entangled in this narrow passage in vain
attempted to retrograde. The crowds which were following behind,
ignorant of the calamity, and not hearing the cries of those before
them, kept urging them on until they pushed them into the gulf, into
which they in their turn were precipitated.

Every one then attempted to pass by the other bridge. A great number of
large ammunition wagons, heavy carriages and cannon crowded to it from
all parts. Pressed on by their drivers and carried rapidly along over a
rough and unequalled declivity, in the midst of masses of men, they
ground to pieces the poor wretches who were unfortunate enough to get
between them, until at length the greater part, furiously encountering
each other, were overturned, killing in their fall those who were around
them. Multitudes pressed against these obstacles, and becoming entangled
among them, were thrown down, and crushed to pieces by other multitudes
as they successively stumbled upon them.

Thus these miserable creatures were rolling one upon the other, and
nothing was heard but cries of rage and of anguish. In this frightful
confusion, those who were trodden and crushed under the feet of their
companions, struggling to lay hold of them with their nails and teeth,
were, like so many enemies, trampled upon without mercy.

Among them were wives and mothers, calling in tones of distraction upon
their husbands and their children, from whom they had been separated but
a moment before, never again to be united. Stretching out their arms,
they entreated to be allowed to pass in order to rejoin them: but they
were hurried backward and forward with the crowd, until at length,
overcome by the pressure, they sank without being so much as noticed.
Amid the howling of a violent tempest, the discharge of cannon, the
whistling of balls, the explosion of shells, vociferations, groans, and
frightful oaths, this infuriated crowd heard not the cries of the
victims it was swallowing up.

The more fortunate gained the bridge by scrambling over heaps of
wounded, of women and children thrown down and half suffocated, whom
they again trampled beneath their feet in their attempts to reach it.
When at last they reached the narrow defile, they fancied that they were
safe; but the fall of a horse, or the breaking or displacing of a plank,
again arrested everything.

There was also at the outlet of the bridge, on the other side, a morass,
into which many horses and carriages had sunk, a circumstance which
greatly embarrassed and retarded the entrance. Then it was that, in that
infuriated column, crowded together, on a single plank of safety, there
arose a terrible struggle, in which the weakest least fortunately
situated were plunged into the river by their more powerful or more
successful comrades. The latter, without so much as turning their
heads, and hurried along by the instinct of self-preservation, pushed on
towards the goal with unabated fury, regardless of the imprecations of
rage and despair uttered by their companions or officers whom they had
thus sacrificed.

But, on the other hand, how many noble instances there were of devotion!
and why are time and space denied me to relate them? Soldiers, and even
officers, harnessed themselves to sledges, to snatch from that fatal
bank their sick or wounded comrades. Farther off, and out of reach of
the crowd, were seen soldiers, motionless and watching over their dying
commanders, who had confided themselves to their care: in vain did the
latter conjure them to think only of their own preservation; they
refused; and sooner than abandon their expiring leaders, resolved to
take their chance of slavery or death.

Above the first passage, where young Lauriston had thrown himself into
the river, in order more promptly to execute the orders of Napoleon, a
little boat, carrying a mother and her two children, was upset and sank
under the ice: an artilleryman, who, like the others, was struggling on
the bridge to open a passage for himself, observed the accident, and all
at once, unmindful of his own life, he threw himself into the river, and
by great exertion succeeded in saving one of the three victims. It was
the youngest of the two children: the poor little thing kept calling for
his mother in tones of despair, when the brave artilleryman was heard
telling him "not to cry; that he had not rescued him from the water only
to desert him on the bank; that he should want for nothing; and that he
would be his father and his family."

The night of the 28th added to all these calamities. Its darkness was
insufficient to conceal from the artillery of the Russians its miserable
victims. Amid the snow, which covered everything, the course of the
river, the black mass of men, horses, and carriages, and the noise
proceeding from them, were enough to enable the enemy's artillerymen
unerringly to direct their fire.

At about nine o'clock in the evening their desolation became complete,
when Victor commencing his retreat, his divisions opened for themselves
a passage through these despairing wretches, whom they had till then
been protecting. A rear guard, however, having been left, the multitude,
benumbed with cold, or still anxious to preserve their baggage, refused
to avail themselves of the last night for crossing to the opposite
shore. In vain were their wagons set fire to, in order to tear them from
them; it was only the appearance of daylight which brought them again,
but too late, to the entrance of the bridge, which they once more
besieged. At half past eight in the morning, seeing the Russians
approaching, General Eblé set fire to it by Napoleon's orders; then
those who were left on the eastern side of the river "realized that they
had lost their last chance."

A multitude of wagons and of cannon, several thousand men and women, and
some children, were thus abandoned on the hostile bank. They were seen
wandering in desolate troops on the borders of the river. Some plunged
into it in order to swim across; others ventured themselves on the
pieces of ice which were floating along; and some there were who threw
themselves headlong upon the timbers of the burning bridge, which,
sinking under them, exposed them at the same time to the horrors of a
twofold death. Shortly after, the bodies of many of these unfortunate
creatures, wedged in the ice, were seen collecting against the trestles
of the bridge. The rest awaited the Russians. The Russian general did
not show himself upon the heights until an hour after Eblé's departure;
and without having gained a victory, he reaped all the fruits of one.

Napoleon remained till the last moment on these melancholy banks, near
the ruins of Brilowa, unsheltered and at the head of his guard,
one-third of which was destroyed by the storm. During the day they stood
to their arms, and were drawn up in order of battle; at night they
bivouacked in a square round their leader; and there the old grenadiers
incessantly kept feeding their fires. They sat on their knapsacks, with
their elbows planted upon their knees, and their hands supporting their
heads; slumbering in this manner, doubled upon themselves, that one limb
might warm the other, and that they might feel less the emptiness of
their stomachs.

About these bivouacs were collected men of all classes, of all ranks, of
all ages; ministers, generals, administrators. Among them was remarked
an elderly nobleman of by-gone days, when light and brilliant graces
held sovereign sway. This general officer of sixty was seen sitting on
the snow-covered trunk of some tree, occupying himself with unruffled
gayety every morning in adjusting the details of his toilet: in the
midst of a hurricane he had his hair elegantly dressed, and powdered
with the nicest care, amusing himself in this manner with all our
calamities, and with the fury of the elements which assailed him.

Near him were officers of scientific corps, still finding subjects for
discussion. Imbued with the spirit of an age which a few discoveries
have encouraged to hope for explanations of everything, these
individuals, amid the acute sufferings we were enduring from the north
wind, were seeking to divine the cause of its unvarying direction. The
theory was advanced that, since his departure for the antarctic pole,
the sun, by heating the southern hemisphere, had rarefied all its
currents of air, elevated them, and left on the surface of that zone a
vacuum, into which the currents of air of ours, which were lower on
account of being more dense, were violently rushing. That thus the
northern pole, loaded with these denser vapors, which had been
collecting and cooling since the preceding summer, was discharging them
by an impetuous and icy current, which swept over the Russian territory,
and stiffened or destroyed everything it encountered in its course.

Others of these officers were remarking with curious attention the
regular six-sided crystallization of each one of the flakes of snow
which covered their garments.

The phenomena of the simultaneous appearance of several distinct images
of the sun, reflected to the eye by means of the icy particles suspended
in the atmosphere, was also a subject for observation, and several times
momentarily diverted their thoughts from their sufferings.


§ 22. Napoleon abandons the Grand Army and sets out for Paris.

On the 29th the emperor quitted the banks of the Berezina, pushing on
before him the crowd of disbanded soldiers, and marching with the ninth
corps, which was already disorganized. The day before, the second and
ninth corps and Dombrowski's division presented a total of fourteen
thousand men; and now, with the exception of about six thousand, they
had no longer any form of division, brigade, or regiment.

Night, hunger, cold, the fall of many of their officers, the loss of the
baggage on the other side of the river, the example of such a number of
runaways, and the much more revolting sight of the wounded abandoned on
both sides of the river, and left weltering in despair on the snow,
which was dyed with their blood: everything, in short, contributed to
discourage them; and they were now confounded with the mass of disbanded
men who had come from Moscow.

The whole still formed sixty thousand men, but without the least order
or unity. All marched pell-mell, cavalry, infantry, artillery, French
and Germans: there was no longer either wing or centre. The artillery
and carriages drove on through this tumultuous crowd with no other
instructions than to proceed as rapidly as possible.

On the 3d of December Napoleon arrived in the morning at
Malodeczno,[176] which was the last point where the Russian general,
Tchitchakoff was likely to get the start of him. Some provisions were
found there, the forage was abundant, the day beautiful, the sun bright,
and the cold bearable. There also the couriers, who had been so long
kept back, arrived all at once. The Poles were immediately directed
onward to Warsaw through Olita, and the dismounted cavalry by Merecz to
the Niemen; while the rest of the army was to follow the high road,
which they had again regained.

Up to that time Napoleon seemed to have entertained no idea of quitting
his army. But about the middle of that day he suddenly informed Daru and
Duroc of his determination to set off immediately for Paris.

Daru did not see the necessity of it. He objected "that the
communication with France was again opened, and the most dangerous
crisis passed; and that at every retrograde step he would now be meeting
the re-enforcements sent him from Paris and from Germany." The emperor's
reply was, "that he no longer felt himself sufficiently strong to leave
Prussia between him and France. And besides, what necessity was there
for his remaining at the head of a routed army? Murat and Eugene would
be sufficient to direct it, and Ney to cover its retreat.

"His return to France had become indispensable, in order to secure her
tranquillity and to summon her to arms; to take measures there for
keeping the Germans steady in their fidelity to him; and, finally, to
return with fresh and adequate forces to the assistance of his Grand
Army.

"But, in order to effect these objects, it was necessary that he should
travel alone over four hundred leagues of the territories of his allies:
and that he might do so without danger, his resolution should be there
unforeseen, his passage unknown, and the rumor of his disastrous retreat
still uncertain; that he would, in short, precede the news of it, and
anticipate the effect it might produce on them, and the defections to
which it might give rise. He had, therefore, no time to lose, and the
moment for his departure had already arrived."

Such were the motives assigned by Napoleon; and General Caulaincourt
immediately received orders secretly to prepare for his departure. The
rendezvous was fixed at Smorgoni,[177] and the time the night of the 5th
of December.

When Napoleon reached Smorgoni all the marshals were summoned. As they
successively entered, he took each one aside in private, and first of
all secured their approbation of his plan, gaining some by his
arguments, and others by confidential communications.

His manner was kind and flattering to them all; and afterward, having
assembled them at his table, he complimented them for their brilliant
actions during the campaign. As to himself, the only confession he made
of his temerity was couched in these words: "If I had been born to the
throne, if I had been a Bourbon, it would have been easy for me not to
have committed any faults."

When their interview was over, he made Prince Eugene read to them his
twenty-ninth bulletin; after which, declaring aloud what he had confided
to each of them privately, he told them "that he was about to depart
that very night with Duroc, Caulaincourt and Lobau, for Paris; that his
presence there was indispensable for France as well as for the remains
of his unfortunate army. It was there only that he could take measures
for keeping the Austrians and Prussians in check. These nations would
certainly pause before they declared war against him, when they saw him
at the head of the French nation, and a fresh army of twelve hundred
thousand men."

He added, that "he had ordered Ney to proceed to Wilna, there to
reorganize the army; that Rapp would second him, and afterward go to
Dantzic, Lauriston to Warsaw, and Narbonne to Berlin; that his own guard
would remain with the army; but that it would be necessary to strike a
blow at Wilna, and stop the enemy there. There they would find
re-enforcements, provisions, and ammunition of all sorts; that afterward
they would go into winter quarters on the other side of the Niemen; and
that he hoped the Russians would not pass the Vistula before his
return."

He said, in concluding, "I leave the King of Naples to command the army.
I hope that you will yield him the same obedience that you would to
myself, and that the greatest harmony will prevail among you."

As it was now ten o'clock at night, he rose, affectionately pressed
their hands, embraced them all--and departed.

Napoleon passed through the crowd of his officers, who were drawn up in
an avenue as he passed, bidding them adieu merely by forced and
melancholy smiles: their good wishes, equally silent, and expressed only
by respectful gestures, he carried with him. He and Caulaincourt shut
themselves up in a carriage.

His escort at first consisted only of Poles, afterwards of the
Neapolitans of the Royal Guard. This corps consisted of between six and
seven hundred men when it left Wilna to meet the emperor: it perished
almost entirely in that short passage, though the winter was its only
adversary. That very night the Russians surprised and afterward
abandoned a town through which the escort had to pass; and Napoleon was
within an hour of falling into that affray.

He met the Duke of Bassano at Miedniki, a village about thirty miles
west of Smorgoni. His first words to him were "that he had no longer an
army; that for several days past he had been marching in the midst of a
troop of disbanded men, wandering to and fro in search of subsistence;
that they might still be rallied by giving them bread, shoes, clothing,
and arms; but that the duke's military administration had anticipated
nothing, and his orders had not been executed." But upon Murat replying,
by showing him a statement of the immense stores of provisions and
clothing collected at Wilna, he exclaimed "that he gave him fresh life;
that he would forthwith give him an order to transmit to Murat and
Berthier, to halt for eight days in that capital, there to rally the
army, and infuse into it sufficient heart and strength to continue the
retreat less deplorably."

The remainder of Napoleon's journey was effected without molestation. He
went round Wilna by its suburbs, crossed Wilkoski, where he exchanged
his carriage for a sleigh, and stopped during the 10th at Warsaw, to ask
the Poles for a levy of ten thousand Cossacks, and to promise them that
he would speedily return at the head of three hundred thousand men. From
thence he rapidly traversed Silesia,[178] visited Dresden and its
monarch, and finally reached Paris, where he suddenly made his
appearance on the 19th of December, two days after the arrival of his
twenty-ninth bulletin.

From Malo-jaroslavetz to Smorgoni, this master of Europe had been no
more than the general of a dying and disbanded army; from Smorgoni to
the Rhine he was an unknown fugitive, travelling through a hostile
country; beyond the Rhine he again found himself the master and the
conqueror of Europe. A brief blast of the gale of prosperity once more
and for the last time swelled his sails.

Meanwhile, his generals, whom he left at Smorgoni, approved of his
departure, and, far from being discouraged, placed all their hopes in
it. The army had now only to flee; the road was open, and the Russian
frontier at a very short distance. They were getting within reach of a
re-enforcement of eighteen thousand men, all fresh troops, of a great
city, and immense magazines. Murat and Berthier, abandoned to
themselves, fancied they were quite competent to direct the flight. But
in the midst of such frightful disorder, it required a Napoleon for a
rallying-point, and he had just disappeared. In the mighty chasm which
he left, Murat was scarcely perceptible.

It was then but too clearly seen that a great man is not to be replaced;
either that the pride of his followers can no longer stoop to obey
another, or that, having always thought of, foreseen, and ordered
everything himself, he had formed good instruments, skilful lieutenants,
but no commanders.

The very first night a general refused to obey. The marshal who
commanded the rear guard was almost the only one who returned to the
royal headquarters. Three thousand men of the Old and the Young Guard
were still there. This was the whole of the Grand Army, and of that
gigantic body there remained nothing but the head. But at the news of
Napoleon's departure, these veterans, spoiled by the habit of being
commanded only by the conqueror of Europe, being no longer supported by
the honor of serving him, and scorning to act as guards to another, gave
way in their turn, and voluntarily fell into disorder.

Henceforward there was no longer fraternity in arms; there was an end to
all society, to all ties; the excess of misery had completely brutified
them. Hunger, devouring hunger, had reduced these unfortunate men to
that brutal instinct of self-preservation which constitutes the sole
understanding of ferocious animals, and which is ready to sacrifice
everything to itself; nature, wild and barbarous around them, seemed to
have communicated to them all its savageness. The strongest despoiled
the weakest; they rushed about the dying, and frequently waited not for
their last breath. When a horse fell, you might have fancied you saw a
famished pack of hounds: they surrounded him, they tore him to pieces,
and quarrelled among themselves for his remains like ravenous dogs.

The greater number, however, preserved sufficient moral strength to
provide for their own safety without injuring others; but this was the
last effort of their virtue. If either leader or comrade fell by their
side or under the wheels of the cannon, in vain did they call for
assistance, in vain did they invoke the names of a common country, a
common religion, and a common cause; they could not even obtain a
passing look. The merciless cold of the climate had passed into their
comrades' hearts: its rigor had contracted their feelings no less than
their features. With the exception of a few of the commanders, all were
absorbed by their sufferings, and terror left no room for compassion.

There were a few, however, who still stood firm, as it were, against
both heaven and earth: these protected and assisted the weakest; but
their number was deplorably small.


§ 23. Sufferings of the Grand Army after Napoleon's departure. Arrival
at Wilna.

On the 6th of December, the very day after Napoleon's departure, the sky
exhibited a more dreadful appearance. Icy particles were seen floating
in the air, and the birds fell stiff and frozen to the earth. The
atmosphere was motionless and silent: it seemed as if everything in
nature which possessed life and movement, even the wind itself, had been
seized, chained, and, as it were, congealed by a universal death. Not a
word or a murmur was then heard: there was nothing but the gloomy
silence of despair, and the tears which proclaimed it.

We crept along in the midst of this empire of death like doomed spirits.
The dull and monotonous sound of our steps, the cracking of the frost,
and the feeble groans of the dying, were the only interruptions to this
doleful and universal silence. Anger and imprecations there were none,
nor anything which indicated a remnant of warmth; scarcely was strength
enough left to utter a prayer; and most of the men fell without even
complaining, either from weakness or resignation, or because people
complain only when they look for kindness, and fancy they are pitied.

Such of our soldiers as had hitherto been the most persevering here lost
heart entirely. Sometimes the snow sank beneath their feet, but more
frequently, its glassy surface refusing them support, they slipped at
every step, and tottered along from one fall to another. It seemed as
though this hostile soil were leagued against them; that it
treacherously escaped from under their efforts; that it was constantly
leading them into snares, as if to embarrass and retard their march, and
to deliver them up to the Russians in pursuit of them, or to their
terrible climate.

And, in truth, whenever, for a moment, they halted from exhaustion, the
winter, laying his icy hand upon them, was ready to seize his victims.
In vain did these unhappy creatures, feeling themselves benumbed, raise
themselves up, and, already deprived of the power of speech, and plunged
into a stupor, proceed a few steps like automatons: their blood froze
in their veins, like water in the current of rivulets, congealing the
heart, and then flying back to the head; and these dying men staggered
as if they had been intoxicated. From their eyes, reddened and inflamed
by the constant glare of the snow, by the want of sleep, and the smoke
of the bivouacs, there flowed real tears of blood; their bosoms heaved
with deep and heavy sighs; they looked towards heaven, at us, and on the
earth, with an eye dismayed, fixed, and wild, as expressive of their
farewell, and, it might be, of their reproaches against the barbarous
nature which was tormenting them. It was not long before they fell upon
their knees, and then upon their hands; their heads still slowly moved
for a few minutes alternately to the right and left, and from their open
mouths some sounds of agony escaped; at last, they fell flat upon the
snow, burying their faces in it, and their sufferings were at an end.

Their comrades passed by them without moving a step out of their way,
that they might not, by the slightest curve, prolong their journey, and
without even turning their heads; for their beards and hair were so
stiffened with ice that every movement was painful. Nor did they even
pity them; for, in fact, what had they lost by dying? what had they left
behind them? They suffered so much, they were still so far from France,
so much divested of all feelings of country by the surrounding prospect
and by misery, that every dear illusion was broken, and hope almost
destroyed. The greater number, therefore, had from necessity, from the
habit of seeing death constantly around them, and from the prevailing
feeling, become careless of dying, sometimes treating it with contempt;
but generally, on seeing these unfortunates stretched on the snow, and
instantly stiffened, contenting themselves with the thought that they
had no more wants, that they were at rest, that their sufferings were
over. And, indeed, death, in a situation quiet, certain, and uniform,
may be felt as a strange event, a frightful contrast, a terrible change;
but in this tumult, this violent and ceaseless movement of a life of
action, danger, and suffering, it appeared nothing more than a
transition, a slight alteration, an additional removal, which excited
little alarm.

Such were the last days of the Grand Army: its last nights were still
more frightful. Those whom they surprised marching together, far from
every habitation, halted on the borders of the woods: there they lighted
their fires, before which they remained the whole night, erect and
motionless like spectres. They seemed as if they could not possibly have
enough of the heat: they kept so close to it as to burn their clothes,
as well as the frozen parts of their body, which the fire decomposed.
The most dreadful pain then compelled them to stretch themselves on the
ground, and the next day they attempted in vain to rise.

In the meantime, such as the winter had almost wholly spared, and who
still retained some portion of courage, prepared their melancholy meal.
It had consisted, ever since they left Smolensk, of some slices of
horseflesh broiled, and a little rye-meal made into a sort of gruel with
snow-water, or kneaded into paste, which they seasoned, for want of
salt, with the powder of their cartridges.

The sight of these fires was constantly attracting fresh spectres, who
were driven back by the first comers. These poor wretches wandered about
from one bivouac to another, until, struck by the frost and despair
together, and giving themselves up for lost, they laid themselves down
upon the snow behind their more fortunate comrades, and there expired.
Many of them, destitute of the means and the strength necessary to cut
down the lofty fir-trees, made vain attempts to set fire to them as they
were standing; but death speedily surprised them, and they might be seen
in every sort of attitude, stiff and lifeless about their trunks.

Under the vast sheds erected by the sides of the high road in some parts
of the way, scenes of still greater horror were witnessed. Officers and
soldiers all rushed precipitately into them, and crowded together in
heaps. There, like so many cattle, they pressed upon each other around
the fires, and as the living could not remove the dead from the circle,
they laid themselves down upon them, there to expire in their turn, and
serve as a bed of death to some fresh victims. In a short time
additional crowds of stragglers presented themselves, and, being unable
to penetrate into these asylums of suffering, they completely besieged
them.

It frequently happened that they demolished their walls, which were
formed of dry wood, in order to feed their fires: at other times,
repulsed and disheartened, they were contented to use them as shelters
to their bivouacs, the flames of which very soon communicated to the
buildings, and the soldiers who were within them, already half dead with
the cold, perished in the conflagration. Such of us as survived in these
places of shelter found our comrades the next morning lying frozen and
in heaps around their extinguished fires; while to escape from these
tombs effort was required to enable us to climb over the heaps of those
who were still breathing.

Yet this was the same army which had been formed from the most
civilized nation of Europe: that army, formerly so brilliant, which was
victorious over men to its last moment, and whose name still reigned in
so many conquered capitals. Its strongest and bravest warriors, who had
recently been proudly traversing so many scenes of their victories, had
lost their noble bearing: covered with rags, their feet naked and torn,
and supporting themselves with branches of fir, they dragged themselves
painfully along; and the strength and perseverance which they had
hitherto put forth in order to conquer, they now made use of only to
flee.

The army was in this last state of physical and moral distress when its
first fugitives reached Wilna. Wilna! their magazine, their centre of
supplies, the first rich and inhabited city which they had met with
since their entrance into Russia. Its name alone, and its proximity,
still supported the courage of a few.

On the 9th of December, the greatest part of these poor soldiers at last
arrived within sight of that capital. Instantly, some dragging
themselves along, others rushing forward, they all precipitated
themselves headlong into its suburbs, hurrying obstinately on, and
crowding together so fast that they formed but one mass of men, horses,
and chariots, motionless, and deprived of the power of motion.

The capital of Lithuania was still ignorant of our disasters, when, all
at once, forty thousand famished soldiers filled it with groans and
lamentations. At this unlooked-for sight, its inhabitants became alarmed
and shut their doors. Deplorable then was it to see these troops of
wretched wanderers in the streets, some furious and others despairing,
threatening or entreating, endeavoring to break open the doors of the
houses and the magazines, or dragging themselves to the hospitals.
Everywhere they were repulsed: at the magazines, from most unseasonable
formalities, as, from the dissolution of the corps and the mingling of
the soldiers, all regular distribution had become impossible.

There had been collected there sufficient flour and bread to last for
forty days, and butchers' meat for thirty-six days, for one hundred
thousand men. Not a single commander ventured to step forward and give
orders for giving out these provisions to all who came for them. The
commissaries who had them in charge were afraid of being made
responsible for them; and the others dreaded the excesses to which the
famished soldiers would give themselves up when everything was at their
discretion. These commissaries were, besides, ignorant of our desperate
situation; and when there was scarcely time for pillage, had they been
so inclined, our unfortunate comrades were left for several hours to die
of hunger at the very doors of these immense magazines, filled with
whatever they stood in need of, all of which fell into the enemy's hands
the following day.

At last, the exertions of several of the commanders, as Eugene and
Davoust, the compassion of the Lithuanians, and the avarice of the Jews,
opened some places of refuge. Nothing could be more remarkable than the
astonishment manifested by these unfortunate men at finding themselves
once more in inhabited houses. How delicious did a loaf of leavened
bread appear to them, and how inexpressible the pleasure of eating it
seated! and, afterward, with what admiration were they struck at seeing
a scanty battalion still under arms, in regular order, and uniformly
dressed! They seemed to have returned from the very extremities of the
earth, so much had the violence and persistency of their sufferings
wrested and torn them from all their habits, so deep had been the abyss
from which they had escaped!

But scarcely had they begun to taste these sweets, when the cannon of
the Russians were heard thundering over their heads and upon the city.
These menacing sounds, the shouts of the officers, the drums beating to
arms, and the wailings and clamor of an additional multitude of
fugitives which had just arrived, filled Wilna with fresh confusion.

Every one thought much more of disputing his life with famine and the
cold than with the enemy. But when the cry of "Here are the Cossacks"
was heard (which for a long time had been the only signal which the
greater number obeyed), it was instantly echoed through the whole city,
and the rout again began.

This city contained a large proportion of the baggage of the army, and
of its treasures, its provisions, a crowd of enormous wagons, loaded
with the emperor's equipage, a large quantity of artillery, and a large
number of wounded men. Our retreat had come upon them like an unexpected
tempest, almost like a thunderbolt. Some were terrified and thrown into
confusion, while consternation kept others motionless. Bearers of
orders, soldiers, horses, and carriages, were seen hurrying about in all
directions, crossing and overturning each other.

In the midst of this tumult, several of the commanders pushed forward
out of the city towards Kowno, with all the troops they could contrive
to muster; but at the distance of a league from the latter place this
heavy and frightened column encountered the height and the ravine of
Ponari.

During our conquering advance, this woody hillock had only appeared to
our soldiers a fortunate accident of the ground, from which they could
discover the whole plain of Wilna, and take a survey of their enemies.
Its rough but sharp declivity had then scarcely been remarked. During a
regular retreat, it would have presented an excellent position for
turning round and stopping the enemy; but in a disorderly flight, where
everything which, in other circumstances, might have been of service,
became injurious; where, in our precipitation and disorder, everything
was turned against us, this hill and its defile became an insurmountable
obstacle, a wall of ice, against which all our efforts were powerless.
It arrested everything, baggage, treasure, and wounded; and the evil was
sufficiently great, in this long series of disasters, to form an epoch.

Here, in fact, it was that money, honor, and all remains of discipline
and strength were completely lost. After fifteen hours of fruitless
effort, when the drivers and the soldiers of the escort saw the King of
Naples and the whole column of fugitives passing them by the sides of
the hill; when they heard the noise of the enemy's cannon and musketry
coming nearer and nearer every instant, and saw Ney himself retreating
with three thousand men; when, at last, turning their eyes upon
themselves, they beheld the hill completely covered with cannon and
carriages, broken or overturned, and men and horses fallen to the
ground, and expiring one upon the other--then it was that they gave up
all idea of saving anything, and determined only to anticipate the enemy
by becoming plunderers themselves.

One of the covered wagons of treasure, which burst of itself, served as
a signal; every one now rushed to the others; they were immediately
broken open, and the most valuable effects taken from them. The soldiers
of the rear guard, who were passing at the time of this disorder, threw
away their arms to join in the plunder; they became so eagerly engaged
in it as neither to hear, in fact, the whistling of the enemy's balls,
nor to pay the slightest attention to the howlings of the Cossacks, who
were at their heels.

It is even said that the Cossacks got mixed among them without being
observed; that for some minutes, French and Tartars were confounded in
the same greediness; forgetting they were at war, and pillaging together
the same treasure-wagons. Two millions of gold and silver then
disappeared.

But amid all these horrors there were noble acts of devotion. Those
there were who abandoned everything to save some of the unfortunate
wounded by carrying them on their shoulders; while others, unable to
extricate their half-frozen comrades from the throng, sacrificed their
lives in defending them either against their own countrymen, or from the
blows of their enemies.

On the most exposed part of the hill, an officer of the emperor, Colonel
the Count de Turenne, repulsed the Cossacks, and in defiance of their
cries of rage and their fire, he distributed before their eyes the
private treasure of Napoleon to the guards whom he found within his
reach. These brave men, fighting with one hand, and collecting the
spoils of their leader with the other, succeeded in saving them. Long
afterward, when they were out of all danger, each man faithfully
restored what had been intrusted to him. Not a single piece of money was
lost.

This catastrophe at Ponari was the more disgraceful, as it might easily
have been foreseen, and no less easily prevented: for the hill could
have been turned by its sides. The property we here abandoned, however,
was at least of some use by arresting the pursuit of the Cossacks. While
these were busy in collecting their plunder, Ney, at the head of a few
hundred French and Bavarians, supported the retreat as far as Évé. As
this was his last effort, we must not neglect to describe the close of
that retreat which he had continued uninterruptedly, and in the most
methodical manner, ever since he left Viazma on the 3d of November.


§ 24. Conclusion.

Finally Ney and his men arrived at Kowno, which was the last town of the
Russian empire. On the 13th of December, after marching forty-six days
under the most terrible sufferings, they once more came in sight of a
friendly country. Instantly, without halting, or looking behind them,
the greater part plunged into, and dispersed themselves in, the forests
of Prussian Poland. Some there were, however, who, on their arrival on
the friendly bank of the Niemen, turned round; and there, when they cast
a last look on that land of horrors from which they were escaping, and
found themselves on the same spot whence, five months before, their
countless eagles[179] had taken their victorious flight, tears gushed
from their eyes and they broke out into exclamations of the most
poignant sorrow.

"This, then, was the bank which they had studded with their bayonets!
this the allied country which had disappeared, only five months before,
under the steps of their immense army, and which then seemed to them to
be metamorphosed into moving hills and plains of men and horses! These
were the same valleys from which, under the rays of a brilliant sun, had
poured forth the three long columns of dragoons and cuirassiers,
resembling three rivers of glittering iron and brass. And now, men,
arms, eagles, horses, the sun itself, and even this frontier river,
which they had crossed replete with ardor and hope, had all disappeared.
The Niemen was now only a lengthened line of masses of ice, arrested and
chained to each other by the increasing severity of the winter. Instead
of the three French bridges, brought from a distance of five hundred
leagues, and thrown across it with such audacious promptitude, a Russian
bridge alone was standing. Finally, in place of those innumerable
warriors, of their four hundred thousand comrades, who had been so often
their partners in victory, and who had dashed onward with so much pride
and joy into the territory of Russia, they now saw issuing from these
pale and frozen deserts only a thousand infantry and horsemen still
under arms, nine cannon, and twenty thousand miserable wretches covered
with rags, with downcast looks, hollow eyes, cadaverous and livid
complexions, and long beards matted with frost; some disputing in
silence the narrow passage of the bridge, which, in spite of their small
numbers, did not suffice for the eagerness of their flight; others
fleeing dispersed over the rough ice of the river, toiling and dragging
themselves along from one point to another: this was the whole Grand
Army! and even many of these fugitives were recruits who had just joined
it!"

Two kings, one prince, eight marshals, followed by a few officers,
generals on foot, dispersed, and without attendants: finally, a few
hundred men of the Old Guard, still armed--these were the remains of
the Grand Army--these alone represented it!

Or rather, I should say, it still breathed only in Marshal Ney!
Comrades! allies! enemies! here I invoke your testimony; let us pay the
homage which is due to the memory of an unfortunate hero: the facts
alone will suffice.

All were flying, and Murat himself, traversing Kowno as he had done
Wilna, first gave, and then withdrew, an order, to rally at Tilsit, and
subsequently fixed upon Gumbinnen. Ney then entered Kowno, accompanied
only by his aids-de-camp, for all besides had given way or fallen around
him. From the time of his leaving Viazma, this was the fourth rear guard
which had been worn out and disappeared in his hands. But winter and
famine, far more than the Russians, had destroyed them. For the fourth
time he remained alone before the enemy, and, still undismayed, he
sought for a fifth rear guard.

Several thousand soldiers covered the market-place and the neighboring
streets; but they were laid out stiff before the liquor-shops which they
had broken open, and where they drank the cup of death, from which they
had vainly hoped they were to inhale fresh life.

Such were the only succors which Murat had left him; and Ney found
himself alone in Russia, with seven hundred foreign recruits. At Kowno,
as it had been after the disasters of Viazma, of Smolensk, of the
Berezina, and of Wilna, it was to him that the honor of our arms and all
the peril of the last steps of our retreat were again confided.

On the 14th, at daybreak, the Russians commenced their attack. One of
their columns made a hasty advance from the Wilna road, while another
crossed the Niemen on the ice above the town, landed on the Prussian
territory, and, proud of being the first to cross its frontier, marched
to the bridge of Kowno, to close that outlet upon Ney, and completely
cut off his retreat.

Ney, though abandoned by all, neither gave himself up nor his post.
After vain efforts to detain these fugitives, he collected their
muskets, which were still loaded, became once more a common soldier,
and, with only four others, kept facing thousands of the enemy. His
audacity stopped them; it made some of his artillerymen, too, ashamed,
and they imitated their marshal: besides it gave time to his aid-de-camp
and to General Gérard, to collect thirty soldiers, and to Generals Ledru
and Marchand to collect the only battalion which remained.

But at that moment a second attack of the Russians commenced on the
other side of the Niemen, and near the bridge of Kowno: it was then half
past two o'clock. Ney sent Ledru, Marchand, and their four hundred men
forward to retake and secure that passage. As for himself, without
giving way, or disquieting himself farther as to what was passing in his
rear, he kept on fighting at the head of his thirty men, and maintained
himself until night at the Wilna gate. He then traversed the town and
crossed the Niemen, constantly fighting, retreating, but never flying,
marching after all the others, supporting to the last moment the honor
of our arms, and for the hundredth time during the last forty days and
forty nights, putting his life and liberty in jeopardy to save a few
more Frenchmen. Finally, he was the last of the Grand Army that quitted
that fatal Russia, showing to the world how courage battles with ill
fortune, and proving that with heroes even the greatest disasters turn
to glory.[180]

General Dumas was seated in the French headquarters on the Prussian side
of the Niemen when a man entered wrapped in a long cloak. His face was
blackened with gunpowder, his hair singed with fire. "At last," said he,
"I am here." "But who are you?" asked General Dumas in astonishment. "I
am the rear guard of the Grand Army--I am Marshal Ney. I have fired the
last shot on the bridge of Kowno, I have thrown my musket into the
river, and I have walked here across the forest."

Napoleon had entered Russia with an army of over six hundred thousand
men. Not more than eighty thousand recrossed the Niemen, and many of
them did not live to reach their homes.[181]

Thus ended the Russian campaign. Thus did the star of the North triumph
over that of Napoleon.

Comrades, my task is done; it is now for you to bear your testimony to
the truth of the picture. Its colors will no doubt appear pale to your
eyes and to your hearts, which are still full of these great
recollections. But who does not know that an action is always more
eloquent than its description; and that, if great historians are
produced by great men, the former are still more rare than the latter?

FOOTNOTES:

[125] Namely, at Kowno, Pilony, south of Kowno, and Grodno, still
further south. At Kowno a monument bears the following inscription in
Russian: "In 1812 Russia was invaded by an army numbering 700,000 men.
The army recrossed the frontier numbering 70,000."

[126] See map facing p. 1. The upper dotted line represents the advance
to Moscow; the lower, the line of retreat from that city.

[127] =Moskwa=, =Kologa=: these and other Russian geographical names are
variously spelled.

[128] Count Ségur was elected a member of the French Academy, and his
history of the retreat has not only passed through many editions in
France, but it has been translated into all the leading languages of
Europe.

[129] The history of Napoleon after the Russian retreat will form the
subject of a note at the close of Count Ségur's narrative.

[130] =Moscow=: the ancient capital of Russia is situated on the Moskwa
river (a tributary of the Oka), from which the city derives its name. It
first appears in history in the middle of the twelfth century. It early
became the metropolis and seat of government, and continued so until a
short time after the founding of St. Petersburg by Peter the Great, in
1703.

For centuries Moscow was both the political and religious centre of the
empire. Here the Czars were crowned, here they resided, here they were
buried. Here, too, the patriarch, or former head of the Russian church,
had his residence, amid cathedrals, monasteries, and shrines, which have
always been regarded with peculiar reverence.

To the Russian peasant the city still remains sacred. It is the heart,
as it were, of his native land. He cherishes toward it the same feeling
which the devout Mohammedan does for Mecca, or the devout Catholic for
Rome. He calls it "Our Holy Mother Moscow"; and when he comes in sight
of its gilded spires and cupolas he makes the sign of the cross, falls
upon his knees, and utters a prayer.

In the centre of Moscow stands the Kremlin, or fortress--for so the
Tartar name is usually translated. This famous stronghold marks the
original settlement. It covers nearly a hundred acres, and is situated
on an eminence on the left bank of the river. It is triangular in shape,
and is surrounded by a lofty stone wall, considerably more than a mile
in extent, which is pierced with five gates and surmounted by eighteen
commanding towers.

The Kremlin is almost a city in itself. Besides extensive barracks and
an arsenal, with other government buildings, it contains the ancient
palace of the Czars, a monastery, and several noted churches, one of
which is the oldest and most venerated in Russia.

Formerly the entire fortification was encompassed by a broad, deep moat.
This has been filled up, and now forms a spacious boulevard, with
pleasure gardens, a library, a museum, and the great bazaar or market,
where all kinds of merchandise are offered for sale.

At the time of the French invasion Moscow is supposed to have had a
population of at least 325,000; at the present time it has more than
double that number.

Napoleon entered the city September 14, 1812. That very night it was set
on fire, and the conflagration continued until the whole place, outside
the Kremlin, was practically a heap of bricks and ashes.

During the fire Napoleon was obliged to leave his quarters in the
fortress and establish them in a suburb of the city, but later he
returned to the Kremlin.

He evacuated Moscow on October 19, not quite five weeks after he entered
it. He found it a great metropolis. He left it a mass of ruins, where
nothing any longer existed to support life.

[131] =Serfs=: these serfs were slaves in all but name, and were bought
and sold like cattle. They were emancipated by law in 1861, the whole
number throughout Russia then being over 21,000,000.

[132] =Czar=: the correct Russian spelling of this word is said to be
Tsar, which is now gradually coming into use in English. The title was
first assumed by Ivan IV. (Ivan the Terrible) in 1533.

[133] =Ruble= (or Rouble): a Russian silver coin worth about
seventy-five cents.

[134] =Smolensk=: see Introduction, "Napoleon."

[135] =Rostopchin=: (Ros-top-chen').

[136] =Kutusoff=: commander-in-chief of the Russian army.

[137] =Muscovite=: a native of Muscovy, an old name for Russia.

[138] Rostopchin denied, in a work which he published, that he set fire
to the city. He insisted that it was done by the French, together with
the rabble of Moscow. It is now thought that the governor began the work
of destruction, which was completed partly by the Russians and partly by
the French.

[139] =Cossacks=: a race of people inhabiting the south of Russia. On
account of their great skill in horsemanship they are largely employed
in the Russian army as cavalry.

[140] =Moskwa=: the French often spoke of the battle of Borodino as the
Battle of the Moskwa, though it is not on that river, but on the Kologa,
a tributary of it. The accounts of the number killed differ.

[141] =Kolomna gate=: a gate leading to Kolomna, a town on the Moskwa
River.

[142] =Miloradovitch=: a Russian general.

[143] =Mazeppa=: a Pole, who having been detected in a crime was bound
to the back of a wild horse and carried by the animal to the country of
the Cossacks. There he became head of the Cossack forces, and when Peter
the Great attempted to seize that country, Mazeppa formed an alliance
with Charles XII. of Sweden for the independence of the Cossacks.

[144] =Dorogomilow=: the name of a quarter of the city.

[145] =Daru=: a distinguished French author and statesman who
accompanied Napoleon in his Russian campaign.

[146] =Boyars=: nobles, or men of rank.

[147] =Bivouac= (biv-wak'): to encamp without tents or shelter.

[148] =Scythians=: a race of fierce barbarians, formerly inhabiting the
country north and east of the Black Sea. Napoleon intimates that these
men are their descendants.

[149] =Strelitzes=: a body of military guards that revolted under Peter
the Great.

[150] =Postern-gate=: a small rear or side gate.

[151] =Lithuania=: a province of Russia bordering on the Niemen and
hence near supplies.

[152] =Witepsk=: a point passed on the march to Moscow, about midway
from the Niemen; here the Russian general, Wittgenstein, appears to have
been stationed.

[153] =Old Guard=: the emperor's body-guard, composed of a large force
of veterans.

[154] "Napoleon also took measures for relieving the unfortunate of all
classes. He ordered lists to be made of all the citizens whom the
conflagration had deprived of the means of subsistence, opened houses of
refuge for them, and supplied them with food."

[155] =Tilsit and Erfurt=: at these places Napoleon had negotiated
treaties, greatly in favor of the French, with the Czar of Russia.

[156] =Expresses=: messengers.

[157] =Armistice=: a temporary suspension of hostilities.

[158] =Partisans=: soldiers detached to intercept convoys of provisions
and the like.

[159] =Invalides=: one of the great public buildings at Paris; a
soldiers' home and hospital. Napoleon is buried here.

[160] =Aid-de-camp=: an officer who carries orders and directs movements
for a general.

[161] =The viceroy=: Prince Eugene.

[162] The indecisive battle of Malo-jaroslavetz, a town about fifty
miles southwest of Moscow, compelled Napoleon to give up his original
plan of retreat, which would have taken him through an unexhausted
country to the southward, and forced him to go back to the north,
retracing his steps by the route he came.

[163] =Wittgenstein=: commander of one division of the Russian forces,
held a position on the Dwina River and later on the Berezina, a
tributary of the Dnieper.

[164] =Vereďa=: a village about twenty-five miles northwest of
Malo-jaroslavetz.

[165] =Kremlin=: it was afterward found that the fortress was but
slightly injured.

[166] =Mojaisk=: about ten miles northwest of Vereďa and seventy west of
Moscow.

[167] The battle-field of Borodino, which Napoleon had fought on his
march to Moscow. See Introduction.

[168] =Viazma=: about fifty miles west of Borodino.

[169] =Dorogobouje=: a town about fifty miles west of Viazma and nearly
two hundred west of Moscow. It is situated on the river Wop, a branch of
the Dnieper.

[170] =Deployed=: formed a more extended front or line.

[171] =Dombrowna=: a town about fifty miles west of Smolensk and two
hundred from Moscow.

[172] =Grenadiers=: these were men of long service and acknowledged
bravery. Originally these soldiers threw hand grenades or small
explosive shells. When these grenades went out of use the name
grenadiers was still retained.

[173] =Borizoff=: a town on the Berezina River, about 320 miles
southwest of Moscow, and about 75 west of Orcha.

[174] =Minsk=: a town on a tributary of the Berezina River, about 400
miles southwest of Moscow. Here Napoleon had immense stores of
provisions, clothing, and ammunition. He was pushing forward to reach
this place.

[175] Polish generals in Napoleon's Grand Army.

[176] =Malodeczno=: a town about seventy miles west of the Berezina
River.

[177] =Smorgoni=: a village about thirty-five miles northwest of
Malodeczno, and four hundred and fifty southwest of Moscow.

[178] =Silesia=: a province of southeastern Prussia.

[179] =Eagles=: Napoleon's colors were surmounted by the figure of an
eagle.

[180] Marshal Ney, whom Napoleon called "the bravest of the brave,"
fought under the emperor in several subsequent battles. When Napoleon
abdicated and was exiled to Elba, Ney supported the government of his
successor and enemy, Louis XVIII. On the escape of Napoleon from Elba,
in the spring of 1815, Ney was sent with an army against him, but
instead of fighting for Louis XVIII., he took service under his old
commander. At Waterloo he led the Old Guard, those men who could die but
never surrender. After the final fall of Napoleon, Marshal Ney was tried
and sentenced to be shot for treason to the government of Louis XVIII.,
whose cause he had deserted. Wellington tried to save his life, but in
vain. If courage can expiate faults, then his are buried in his grave.

[181] On Napoleon's arrival in Paris he began at once to raise a fresh
army. It has been said that it was "an army of boys," for France had
lost most of her fighting men on the battle-field, or in Russia. In 1813
he was defeated at Leipsic, and obliged to retreat across the Rhine. The
next year he abdicated and retired to Elba.

In the spring of 1815 he escaped from Elba, and raising an army fought
and lost the battle of Waterloo.

After his second abdication he was sent an exile to St. Helena, where he
died about six years later (1821). His remains were brought to Paris in
1840, and interred under the dome of the Hotel des Invalides, or
Soldiers' Hospital. Above his tomb one reads these words: "I desire that
my ashes shall repose on the banks of the Seine, among the French
people, whom I have so greatly loved."




INDEX TO NOTES.

WITH PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES.[182]


A-chć´ans, 37.

A-ch[=a]´i-a.

Ad-ra-m[)y]t´ti-um.

[=Ć]-n[=e]´as.

[=Ć]-ni-[=a]´n[=e]s.

[=A]-g[=a]´si-as.

[=A]-g[)e]s-i-l[=a]´us.

[=A]´gi-[)a]s.

Aid-de-camp, 217.

Ajaccio (A-yat´ch[=o]).

Alexander the Great, 149.

[)A]l-ki-bi´a-d[=e]s.

Altar, 75.

Amnesty, 13.

Am-ph[=i]p´o-lis.

A-nab´a-sis, 150.

[)A]n-ax-[=i]b´i-[)u]s.

An-tal´ki-d[)a]s.

An-t[)a]n´dr[)u]s.

An-t[)i]l´e-[)o]n.

[)A]p-ol-l[)o]n´i-d[=e]s.

Arcadian, 27.

[=A]-ri-ć´us.

[)A]r-is-tar´chus.

A-r[)i]s´te-[)a]s.

A-ris´ton.

[)A]r-is-t[)o]n´y-m[)u]s.

Ar´me-n[=e].

Ar´mis-t[)i]ce, 211.

Array, 7.

Ar´te-m[)i]s.

Ar-te-m[)i]s-[)i]´[)o]n, 146.

Ar-tax-erx´[=e]s.

A-si´da-t[=e]s.

A-tar´ne[=u]s.

Athenian catastrophe, 38.

Augereau ([=O]zh-r[=o]´).

Augury, 57.


Banished, 145.

Barbarians, 14.

Barras (Bar-rah´).

Bas´i-as.

Beauharnais (B[=o]-ar-n[=a]´).

Béranger (B[=a]-ron-zh[=a]´).

Berthier (Ber-te-[=a]´).

Bessičres (B[)e]s-s[=e]-air´).

Billeted, 132.

Bi-san´the.

Bi-th[)y]n´i-a.

Bi´ton.

Bitumen (Be-tu´men), 15.

Bivouac (B[)i]v´wak), 60, 187.

Boe-o´ti-a.

Boeotian dialect, 31.

Bo-is´kus.

B[=o]´re-[)a]s, 62.

Borizoff, 271.

Borodino, 242.

Bo-r[)y]s´the-n[=e]s.

Bos´pho-r[)u]s.

Boulogne (Boo-l[=o]n´).

Boyars, 179.

Br[)a]s´i-das.

Bras-i-di´as.

Brienne (Br[=i]-[)e]n´).

Burial, 56.

By-zan´ti-um, 80, 116.


Carbines, 43.

Car-pć´an dance, 103.

Cashier, 31.

Caulaincourt (K[=o]-lan-koor´).

Chal-k[=e]´don.

Chal´y-b[=e]s.

Char-m[=i]´nus.

Charpentier (Shar-pon-t[=e]-[=a]´).

Cheir-is´o-ph[)u]s.

Cher-so-n[=e]´sus, 119.

Chry-s[)o]p´o-lis.

Cities, 113.

Claparčde (Clap-ar-aid´).

Compans (Con-pan´).

Convention, 12.

Corn, 9.

Corselet, 52.

Cossacks, 171.

Covenant, 11.

Cubit, 52.

Cuirass, 48.

Cy-re´ian Greeks, 10.

Cy-re´ian Persians, 13.

Czar, 160.


Dance, Carpćan, 103.

Dance, Pyrrhic, 104.

Dar´da-n[)u]s.

D[)a]r´ic, 71.

Da-ri´us.

Daru´, 179.

Davoust (Da-voo´).

De-in´ar-chus.

D[)e]k-e-l[=i]´a.

Delta, 125.

Delzons (Del-zon´).

Demagogues, 66.

D[)e]m-a-r[=a]´tus.

Democrat and Philosopher, 29.

De-mok´ra-t[=e]s.

Deployed, 265.

Der-k[)y]l´li-das.

Dex-ip´pus.

D[=i]-[=a]´si-a, 139.

D[=i]-o-d[=o]´rus.

Dnieper (Nee´per).

Dombrowna, 268.

Dorogobouje, 254.

Dorogomilow, 178.

Dra-kon´ti-[)u]s.

Dri´lć.

Dumas (Du-mah´).

Duroc (Du-rok´).


Eagles, 308.

Ears bored, 32.

Eblé (Eb-l[=a]´).

Eckmühl (Ek´m[=i]l).

Ek-b[)a]t´a-na.

E-le´i-ans.

Ephesus, Temple of, 143.

E-pis´the-n[=e]s.

E-r[=e]´tri-a.

E-r[=e]´tri-an, 141.

Erfurt, 204.

Es-th[=o]´ni-a.

[=E]-te-o-n[=i]´kus.

E[=u]-klei´d[=e]s.

E[=u]-r[)y]l´o-chus.

Évé ([=A]-v[=a]´).

Expresses, 205.


Festivals, Olympic, 145.

Fishery, Thunny, 76.

Friedland (Freed´land).


Gérard (Zh[=a]-rar´).

Glűs (Gloos).

Gods, The, 89.

Gon´gy-l[)u]s.

Gor´gi-[)o]n.

Gracious, Zeus The, 139.

Great King, The, 124.

Greaves, 69.

Grenadiers, 269.

Guard, The Old, 199.

Guilleminot (Gweel-me-n[=o]´).

G[=y]-l[)i]p´pus.

Gym´ni-as.


Ha´lys.

Har´pa-s[)u]s.

Hek-a-ton´y-mus.

Hellas, 89.

Hellen´ic, 3.

H[)e]r-a-klei´d[=e]s.

H[)e]r-ak-l[=e]´ot-ic.

H[)e]r´a-kl[=e]s, 74.

Herald, 7.

Heralds, 2.

He-rod´o-tus.


Inflated skins, 19.

Invalides (An-val-eed´), 214.

I-[=o]´ni-a, 21.

Irrigation, 9.


Javelin, 43.

Jomini (Zho-me-ne´).

Judges, 67.


Kć´nć.

Ka-[=i]´kus.

Kal´p[=e].

Kal-lim´a-chus.

Kar-du´ki-a.

Ken-tr[=i]´t[=e]s.

Ker´a-s[)u]s, 83.

Ki-lik´i-a, 32.

King, The Great, 124.

Kle-an´der.

Kle-[=a]´nor.

Kle-ar´chus.

Kle-ar´e-tus.

Kle-on´y-m[)u]s.

Knidus (N[=i]´dus).

Knight, 148.

Koe-ra´ti-das.

Kolomna gate, 173.

Kor-o-n[=e]´a.

Kor´y-las.

Ko-rys-the´ni-a.

K[=o]-ty-[)o]´ra.

Krasnoë (Kras-no´e).

Kretan, 56.

Kremlin, 238.

Ktesias (T[=e]´si-[)a]s).

Ku-nax´a, 1.

Kutusoff, 163.

Ky-nis´kus.

K[)y]z´i-k[)u]s.


Laç-e-dć´mon.

Laç-e-dć-mo´ni-ans.

Lamp´sa-k[)u]s.

La-ris´sa.

Latour-maubourg (La-toor´-m[=o]-boor´).

Lebure´.

Ledru´.

Lefebvre (L[)e]-f[)e]v´vr).

Libations, 58.

Lithuania, 194.

Lobau (L[=o]-b[=o]´).

Lon-ti´ni.

Lotos-eaters, 35.

Lyd´i-a.

Ly´kon.


Machiavel (Mak´i-a-vel).

Mć-sa´d[=e]s.

Mag-n[=e]´t[=e]s.

M[=a]-kr[=o]´-n[=e]s.

Malodeczno, 292.

Malo-jaro-slavetz, 233.

Man-ti-n[=e]´a.

Man-ti-nei´a.

Marchand (Mar-shon´).

Ma-ri-an-d[=y]´n[=i].

Mar-o-nei´a.

Marshal Ney (Nay), 311.

Mazeppa, 178.

Media, Wall of, 15.

Me-dos´ar-des.

M[)e]g-a-b[=y]´zus.

Meg´a-ra.

Meg-a´rian, 76.

Mercenaries, 75.

Merchant ships, 80.

Mi-le´sians, 76.

Mi-l[=e]´tus, 24.

Miloradovitch, 177.

Mil-t[=i]´a-d[=e]s.

Mil-to-ky´th[=e]s.

Mi´nć, 99.

Minsk, 277.

Mith-ri-d[=a]´t[=e]s.

Mojaisk, 241.

Mortier (Mor-t[=e]-[=a]´).

Moscow, 157.

Moskwa, 171.

M[)o]s-y-noe´k[=i].

Munich (Mu´nik).

Murat (Mu-rah´).

Muscovite, 163.

M[)y]´si-a.

Mysian, 104.

Mysians, 35.


Ne´on.

Neufchâtel (N[=u]f-shah-t[)e]l´).

Ney, Marshal (Nay), 311.

Niemen (Nee´men).

N[=i]-kar´chus.

N[=i]´ki-as.

Ni-kom´a-ch[)u]s.

Nineveh, 44.


[)O]d´ry-sć.

[)O]d-rys´ian, 135.

O-dys´seus, 80.

Old Guard, 199.

Olympic Festivals, 145.

O-l[)y]m´pi-a, Temple of, 147.

O-neir´us, 29.

Oph-ry-n[=e]´um.

O´pis.

O-ron´tas.

Oudinot (Oo-de-n[=o]´).


Pć´an, 34.

Paphlagonian horse, 87

P[=a]´ri-um.

Partisans, 211.

Partouneaux (Par-too-n[=o]´).

Pa-rys´a-tis.

P[)e]l-o-pon-n[=e]´si-ans, 37.

P[)e]l-o-pon-n[=e]´sus.

Per´ga-m[)u]s, 140.

Peraldi (Per-al´d[)i]).

Pe-rin´thus.

Per´i-kl[=e]s, 39.

Phalanx, 8.

Pha-li´nus.

Phar-na-b[=a]´zus.

Pha-si-[=a]´ni.

Pha´sis, 93.

Ph[=e]´rae.

Phi-l[=e]´si-us.

Phil-hellen´ic, 22.

Philo-Laco´ni-an, 113.

Phli-a´si-an, 139.

Ph[)o]l´o-[=e].

Phry-nis´k[)u]s.

Phys´kus.

Pino (P[=e]no´).

Pipe, 103.

Pi-sid´i-a.

Pisid´ians, 35.

Pol-y-ć´n[)u]s.

Po-l[)y]k´ra-t[=e]s.

P[)o]l-y-n[=i]´kus.

Poniatowski (P[=o]-ni-a-tow´ski).

Pontoons, 18.

Postern-gate, 190.

Pr[=o]k´l[=e]s.

Pro-pon´tis, 125.

Pr[)o]x´e-n[)u]s.

Pyrrhic Dance, 104.


Reggio (Red´j[=o]).

Regnier (R[=a]-ne-[=a]).

Reins, 52.

Rhodian, 43.

Rostopchin, 163, 164.

Ru´ble, 162.


Sacrifice, 2, 91.

Sacrificed, 50.

St. Cyr (San Seer´).

Sam´o-las.

Sar´dis.

Sa´trap, 10.

Scu-ta´ri.

Scythians, 188.

Ségur (S[=a]gur´).

Se-l[=i]´nus.

Se-l[=y]m´bri-a.

Serfs, 160.

Ses´a-me, 61.

Se[=u]´th[=e]s.

Sikon´yan.

S[=i]-l[=a]´nus.

S[=i]-l[=e]´si-a, 296.

S[=i]-n[=o]´pe.

S[=i]t´ta-k[=e].

Skil´lus.

Skins, Inflated, 19.

Sky-thi´ni.

Smorgoni, 293.

Sneeze, 34.

Sok´ra-t[=e]s, 143.

So-phćn´e-t[)u]s.

Sophists, 40.

So-t[)e]r´i-das.

St[=a]t´ers, 107.

Strelitzes, 190.

Strike our tents, 14.

Sy-ko´ni-ans.


Talent, 7.

T[=a]´o-chi.

Targeteers, 83.

Tchitchakoff (Chich´a-k[)o]f).

Te-l[)e]b´o-[)a]s.

Temple of Ephesus, 143.

Temple of Olympia, 147.

Th[=e]´b[=e].

Th[=e]´ch[=e]s.

Ther-m[=o]´don.

Tho´rax.

Thra´ki-on, 123.

Thunny fishery, 76.

Thu-ri´an, 79.

Ti-[=a]´ra, 21.

T[)i]b-a-r[=e]´n[=i].

Til´sit, 204.

T[=i]-m[=a]´si-[)o]n.

Ti-me-sil-a´[)u]s.

T[)i]m-e-s[=i]th´e-[)u]s.

T[=i]r-i-b[=a]´zus.

Tis-sa-pher´n[=e]s.

Tra-p[=e]´zus.

Traverse, 90.

Tribute, 13.

Tri-ph[)y]l´i-a.

Tr[=i]´r[=e]me, 105.

Tr[=o]´ad, 140.

Tuileries (Tweel´re).

Turrets, 84.

Twer (Wer).


Ve-re´i-a, 238.

Viazma, 243.

Viceroy, 229.


Wall of Media, 15.

War, The, 39.

Witepsk, 194.

Wittgenstein, 237.


Xan´thi-kl[=e]s.

X[)e]n´o-ph[)o]n.


Z[)a]b´a-t[)u]s.

Za-kyn´thus.

Ze[=u]s, 29.

Ze[=u]s, The Gracious, 139.


FOOTNOTES:

[182] In the classical names _ch_ has the sound of _k_, e.g. Achaia
(A-k[=a]´i-a); the diphthong _ć_ has the sound of long _[=e]_, e.g.
Ćneas ([=E]-n[=e]´as), Kćnć (K[=e]´n[=e]); _[=e]s_ at the end of a word
has the sound of _eez_, e.g. Apollonid[=e]s ([)A]p-ol-l[)o]n´i-deez);
_ti_ in Boeotia has the sound of _she_, e.g. (B[=e]-[=o]´she-ah). The
Russian names may be pronounced as English.




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Choice Literature; Full Notes; Large Type; Firm Binding; Low Prices.

_=Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales.=_ *FIRST SERIES: Supplementary to the
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*_=Ćsop's Fables,=_ with selections from Krilof and La Fontaine.

*_=Kingsley's Water-Babies:=_ A Story for a Land-Baby.

*_=Ruskin's King of the Golden River:=_ A Legend of Stiria.

*_=The Swiss Family Robinson.=_ Abridged.

_=Robinson Crusoe.=_ Concluding with his departure from the island.

*_=Kingsley's Greek Heroes.=_

*_=Martineau's Peasant and Prince.=_

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_=Tom Brown at Rugby.=_

_=The Two Retreats.=_ Xenophon's and Napoleon's.


GINN & COMPANY, Publishers,

BOSTON, NEW YORK, AND CHICAGO.




    +-----------------------------------------------+
    | Transcriber's Note:                           |
    |                                               |
    | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the  |
    | original document have been preserved.        |
    |                                               |
    | Typographical errors corrected in the text:   |
    |                                               |
    | Page 180 soltitude changed to solitude        |
    | Page 192 Echmühl changed to Eckmühl           |
    | Page 212 Winkowo changed to Vinkowo           |
    | Page 296 Maret changed to Murat               |
    | Page 315 Augerau changed to Augereau          |
    | Page 315 Charpontier changed to Charpentier   |
    +-----------------------------------------------+





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